Fic Recs - Blog Posts

If you have any love for Code Geass, even if you don't read fanfiction, read this.

Are you in the mood to perhaps compile fics with that specific dadzawa & dadmic situation? ♡

:O!! YES ALWAYS??? OMG OKAY

For anyone who hasn’t seen it this ask is in reference to this comic I made about one of my favorite types of bnha fanfic: Aizawa and Yamada having already adopted Shinsou and Eri, realize Bakugou might also need some help.

It’s not entirely clear in my comic lmao but I feel like if you know, you know. Anyway here are some of my favorites!

note: because of the subject matter, most if not all of these contain themes of physical/emotional abuse and neglect. Check the tags for details

pump the break by stolenbythewestwind

this one is first because this fic. oh this fic eviscerates me. I really like Shinsou's characterization here, and the attention given to how he adjusts to Bakugou's presence. Also it can be so hard to write Mitsuki in a way that feels real in a situation like this, I swear to god this fic this fic is the blueprint. If I ever shut up about pump the break I am dead and gone from this earth.

this family of ours by ghostoutofhisgrave

A one-shot from Mic's pov about how they got all their kids. This one also includes Todoroki and is so fucking sweet. I love how Eri is so happy to have new brothers and they immediately roll with it.

It's Called: Freefall by poddunkk

This one is like good parenting slowburn because Bakugou doesn't move in until deep into the fic but god I love this one. The way Bakugou and Shinsou go from awkward, annoyed, mutuals to brothers is fantastic. There's mention of Eri being introduced soon!

Okay moving away from my comic just a bit! Here some of my favs where their family is generally already established, but still feature Bakugou, Shinsou, and dadzawa/dadmic:

Our House, Our Lives. (Part four of Homemade Families) by Heroesloverofbooks

This is a short series of fics! Including Todoroki, but no Eri in these ones. I picked part four because this one is my favorite; I like the silly sibling banter and Bakugou's dramatic ass.

Silent Treatement (Part two of Learning to Juggle) by SmartiMart

Another fantastic series, it's different from most other I've read because this time it's Shinsou, Bakugou, and Midoriya in the house (No Eri). The situations that get Bakugou and Midoriya into the erasermic fam are also unique, it's not usually what I go for with them, but the characterization has me by the throat.

Special Note: I HIGHLY suggested reading part two first. The plot of Silent Treatement is Bakugou and Midoriya have a fight and no one else can figure out why. I won't spoil it, but there's this scene where Bakugou admits something and Aizawa has this oh shit moment that hits so much harder without the context from part one.

now by theghoulinyourattic

A one-shot that's on the shorter end but I adore the characterization here. He would fucking do that omfg.

Lavender Tears (Series) by dreamsoflovingness

Another series, fourteen parts and complete! Once more featuring Todoroki but not Eri. I love this one so much I can't pick a favorite. My favorite part of this series is seeing the boy's relationships develop over the course of it. Especially how the author writes Bakugou suddenly being someone's brother.

a mix of six (Series) by Argentina

I'm obsessed with this authors mind. Y'all not only is this series twenty-seven parts, it includes Todoroki and Eri! I love the episodic style of these and OUGH there is just something about these kids developing the instinct to protect one another that gets me. There's one where Eri puts glitter in their hair and the next day at school the three of them are bragging about how cool their little sister is and I fucking can't. I love it.

Bonus Round: Some fics that don't technically fit the prompt but I hold so dear to my heart.

baby steps. by nitroglycerin_and_paraffin

Included because it involves Aizawa getting Bakugou out of his house. I fucking love this one. The way the author slowly gives you more information about why Aizawa acts the way he does and the way he finds out about little tidbits of Class-A's relationship dynamics I'm soooo normal about it. Also I LOVE the back-and-forth dialogue I'm eating that shit up.

Best Jeanist Acquires A Son (Series) by Sif

OH THESE ONES. Bakugou gets out of his house but it's Jeanist that takes him in! I love how the author developed Bakugou and Jeanist and don't even get me started on the quirk meta they did for Bakugou it's the coolest shit ever.

That's my list, thank you so much for the ask :)

may i ask for some more bkdk fic recs because ypur last one was SO GOOD

sure!! the theme for today is (relatively?) short, sfw, and sweet. read the tags etc etc

starting with some of my mutuals !! penny for your thoughts, wait for me, "whats your type?", you got a boyfriend?, the chosen of the dragonborn, and autumn metamorphosis

then from some of my absolute fave writers that arent my mutuals ((YET💪💪💪)) Romeo and Romeo, play it cool, a nerd's guide to flirting, but the entrails are the best part!, they took the wisdom with the teeth, and boom badoom boom

honorable mentions! how ikea sells all their beds, a challenger appears, and child's play

i'm curious- i just saw the post mentioning fics, if ur comfortable sharing, what are some of ur favorite mha/bkdk fics you've read?- ps i absolutely love everything abt your art it's amazing 🫶

tysm !! All the recs I've shared are under the tag "fic recs" and I've made two posts so far here and here but I'm happy to share more !

once forgotten, twice removed by blueh - 42k complete - AFO from a universe where deku is a villain, brings over deku from a universe where he's a pro hero assuming he's a villain in that universe as well, things do not go well for AFO. Super great, it's pretty popualar but I wanted to include it cause it's a favourite of mine :)

dogs days by keyhimura - 14k complete - Bakugou gets hit with a quirk which slowly turns him more and more into a wolf, he has a soft spot for deku :') This one is bkdk and I love it a bunch ! (off topic but I always forget that the title is plural dogs not singular dog so it took me a hot second to find it)

mortality by jojojonah - 34k complete - Deku has a quirk that he didn't know about that's essentially an immortality quirk, he can come back to life after dying, but it takes a bit longer for his memories to come back. Little angsty and was fun to read !

call me izuku (orphan account) - 5k complete - Deku's hit with a quirk that makes it so nobody can remember who is is and he can't tell people who he is. He spends time at shikestu, short and sweet :')

ask for kacchan - deadwriter16 - 21k complete - quirkless!deku who's a big hero nerd and ph!bakugou. Kind of a new girl au, Deku's searching for an apartment and finds an ad looking for a fourth roommate, little does he know, they're all pro heroes. It's silly and great <3

YyyOOO so the fics you linked for the other anon were LIT 😳👉👈 c-could i ask for some bkdk specific fic reccs as well?? 😭

sure I’d be happy to share more recs !

this is not an advertisement for gorilla glue by bi_focal - 11k complete - deku’s about to do something stupid and bakugou decides to prevent whatever disaster is about to happen by asking awase to weld their hands together, they’re both such little shits in this it’s great

wonder duo, ua bestselling authors by minfresh - 11k complete - after getting in trouble one too many times, aizawa and nedzu decide that instead of house arrest, bakugou and deku have to participate in ua literary club’s creative writing project as coauthors, together they write a action romance buddy cop slowburn <3 10/10

lose it all (with eyes wide open) by ghostwriterofthemachine - 5k complete - bkdk get kidnapped, bakugou’s blinded and deku can’t talk, they’re forced to rely and be codependent with one another by their kidnappers, a bit of brainwashing and lot’s of angst, I enjoyed it bunch!

worm by icythot - 3k complete - “would you still love me if a was a worm?” and quirk accidents,,,, need I say more ?

penny for your thoughts by ladyofsnails- 7k complete - bkdk have been passing a penny back and forth each other since they were kids, whoever is given the penny has to share their thoughts out loud, it’s a very cute fic :’)

sink to swim by cinnabee - 35k complete - bakugou and deku get kidnapped and gotta go through saw like puzzles, not so fun time for them but very fun for me, it’s one of my favourites

I love Phandom and phanfiction because y’all put greater emphasis on the ghostliness than the original show did.

I love when Batman and Spider-man are treated as the main identities, and Bruce and Peter are the alter egos. So likewise, I want Phantom to be the main identity and Danny to be the alter ego.

The TV series (as much as I love it) mostly focuses on Danny, and being Phantom gets in the way of real life. Like oops, Danny can’t do this normal teen thing because he has to fight ghosts. Oh no. And my favorite episodes are ones that focus more on his ghostliness, like Public Enemies. But in so many fics, being Danny gets in the way of ghost activities, or they highlight how much he has to suppress ghostliness while in human form. I frikkin LOVE it.

Furthermore, apparently in Butch’s imagination ghosts aren’t actually dead people, but basically just a kind of monster. Fanon is like no, he’s half dead. Let’s focus on how dead he is and his struggle with being both dead and alive. I LOVE it. That’s the angst I want. That’s the whump fodder I want.

Tldr I love the Danny Phantom series but fanon gives us a ghost-focused, half-dead angsty hero whose humanity gets in the way of his ghost life, and I love it.

There will never be enough "regular human unfamiliar with Amity Park's nonsense has the misfortune of doing crime around local cryptid Danny Fenton" content out there.

Don't get me wrong there are some absolute gems:

Shots Fired by @things-i-cannot-do-in-amitypark

Things Just Happen Sometimes by Thatweirdointhecorner

Poor Life Choice by @princessfanonanona

maybe one day I'll be home again by anthrop

Suffocation by @sapphireswimming

This post by @lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks

(and a few more that I can't find / are escaping my memory right now. feel free to reblog with additions!)

...But there will never be enough

2020-2021 DP Fic Recs

Are you tired of reading and re-reading the same fics? No? Me neither. BUT STILL It’d be nice to know what’s new in the realm of Danny Phantom fanfictions. (Long post)

⭐ = particularly tasty read

Posted / updated 2020-2021 on AO3 (in no particular order):

FOCUS ON CHARACTERS / ONESHOTS

⭐ Maybe We’ll Find Each Other | DP_Marvel94 // worldbuilding, AU Full ghost to half ghost Danny, Fenton Family, parental support, ONESHOT (for now)

Phantom, the adoptive son of Clockwork, doesn’t remember his life but wishes he did. Jack Fenton, ghost hunter, lost his only son at a young age. When the portal activates, a newly half-human Phantom stumbles into Jack’s lab, bearing a painfully familiar blue-eyed, black haired form.

⭐⭐ How to Mentor a Troubled Ghost Child | Ectopal (bodingly) // Vlad & Danny mentor fic, heartwarming, parental, great plot! multi-chapter, COMPLETE

He and Daniel aren’t just accidents, aren’t just freaks anymore. They’re a species, and Vlad doesn’t want to spend the rest of their unnatural lives fighting over a mistake he made. He’ll find a way to make it work. He’ll earn Daniel’s trust and he’ll make it work. (read more)

⭐ Identified | VampireBadger // Valerie & Danny & Dani, identity reveal, alternate ending to D-Stabilized, ONESHOT

Danny and Valerie decide that no, actually, letting a recently unmelted Dani fly off on her own is probably not a good idea.

(What Danny doesn’t quite understand is how this comes to have such a dramatically bad effect on his ability to keep his secret identity a secret.

Keep reading

Rec List for Fandom Newbies

One of my mutuals on my main asked me about DP and so I recced them some fics that I thought might help explain the main ideas of the fandom. SO here is that list (and also just some other fun fics I like because). 

Under the cut because this is kinda long!

Keep reading

Because Floral suggested I do this- Have some Fic recs!!!

@floralflowerpower

The Apprentice of Thanatos: DP/PJO https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169744/chapters/71614422

Ghost in the NYC: DP/Marvel https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045206

The ColdHands Project: DP/Rise of the Guardians (2012) https://archiveofourown.org/series/1364842

Uncle John: DP/John Constinie  https://archiveofourown.org/works/33598900

Wattson Wraith: DP https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186578/chapters/63723802

Ectoplasmic Educational Employment: DP https://archiveofourown.org/works/33500500/chapters/83231269

Spooky Monochrome Vigilantes Gotta Stick Together: DP/Venom https://archiveofourown.org/works/32941786/chapters/81756826

Something’s Wrong With Danny Fenton Vol. 1: DP https://archiveofourown.org/works/33428749/chapters/83039059

To Breathe: DP https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947537/chapters/71029983

College Shenanigans: DP https://archiveofourown.org/series/2231343

Fangs or No Fangs: DP https://archiveofourown.org/works/30890915

Furry Paws and Achy Jaws: DP https://archiveofourown.org/works/31449242

Catch these fuckin’

Danny Phantom One-Shot Recs

I’m gonna plug my own one-shot in here first, then go in reverse through my history. This list is probably gonna have more fics, so buckle up. There’s (surprisingly) only one crossover, and I’ve also put the GothMoth fics into a section by themselves. Because they’re special.

Coincidentally by Dragoknitter - Miles and Tucker are cousins, and Tucker basically says, “Y’all need a support system, lemme hook you up.”

Is This Just A Thing that Girls Do? by newdog14 - Middle school girls are terrifying, and this is definitely something I might’ve done if given the right motivation.

Pushing Buttons (Until They Break) by ObsidianCreates - Danny’s parents aren’t the best at feelings, and press on way too many sore spots. But! There’s a sequel and they make up for it!

Day Three: Cryptid by JadeNoRyuu - Astraphobic Danny + supernatural thunderstorm + helpful senior student = a fun little story that is just *Pacha 🖐👌Meme*

The Green Gremlin by NikaylaSarae - Some top-notch character building for Dash, although this author mostly writes for Sanders Sides

Parental Woes by DarkNymfa - Very nice premise! Clockwork and Pandora are awesome, but don’t really Get human stuff. Danny is embarrassed.

Of Tweets and Twats by DarkNymfa - Twitter convos discussing Amity Park, featuring people from Amity Park!

Flickering Yellow and Green by dragonrayy - Danny gets hit with something by Technus that messes up his eyes, so he goes to a ghost optometrist.

Grabbing Smoke by thatgirl_youknowtheone - Lovely characterization for Kitty! Also has Jewish Sam!

Growing Pains by ayjayar - Ghost puberty! Ghost puberty! But not for Danny

What Can Be Found by ajility - Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt. Or, in this case, a dream ship in the Ghost Zone.

Facing Facts by ajility - I get the feeling this author just likes writing Danny in denial about his parents’ neglect…

The Things We Hold Dear by Alana_Kitty - Nice little story about Danny fixing Ember’s guitar!

Bang Babies got nothin’ on the Ghost Kid by anthrop - Look. I loved Static Shock as a kid and seeing him completely overwhelmed by Danny’s OP ass is wonderful.

Core by GhostWriterGirl1 - F in the chat for Danny. Boi gets messed up by a solar flare. The author added in the reasoning behind the headcanon too, so that’s neat!

Shots Fired by RedGhost1010 - This is definitely NOT what you should do in the event of a school shooting, but who cares about that when you’re immortal?

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears by GoingDeceased - A little angsty, but hey! Danny finally has some adults on his side!

Electricity by lexosaurus - Danny has PTSD, and peer pressure is a bitch

GothMoth Fics

Spooky Sin Scholar - Danny is a polyglot and teaches classmates to swear in Ghost.

The Fright In Halloween - Danny is a little shit, but what else is new?

Mimicry - Mostly just shitting on radical Christianity’s policy of “unnatural things must be eradicated, we must send them back to Hell where they belong”, at least that’s my takeaway

Fashion Flame War - Uniforms are only convenient for schools, and are a crime against expression of self. Casper High can never do things the easy way, though.

In My Veins Flows Chaos, But I Could Do Without It Being This Obvious - *plops ectoplasm into Danny’s hands* He glows!

Nip Trips Nips - Ah, ghost nip. And implied Val/Ellie! (Ellie is my preferred name for her because Dani and Danny is just so confusing)

Ecto Upgrade Start - Ghost puberty, for Danny this time!

Gala Glamour - Richness and pettiness are a given combination, after all, why shouldn’t Vlad use his ridiculous wealth for the entertainment of teenagers?

Poised To Go Splat - Don’t drink glow sticks, kids. Or let your insane ghost-hunting parents make an anti-ecto fog machine for the school dance.

What Qualifies As A Few Too Many Words? One - Ah, the unfortunate circumstance of a ghost needing Danny’s help, luckily (or unluckily) the ghost doesn’t speak English.

Would You Like Some Bullets With That, Sir? - Vlad is insanely rich. People don’t like him. Failed assassinations are just annoying when you’re immortal.

Phabulous Phashion - Danny should not be allowed to shop for clothes by himself.

Little Nibblers - Accidental ghost edible consumption, and baby fangs.

Do u have any ducktales fic/author recs 🥺

I got this ask so long ago asjdkfs but here's part one in case you haven't seen it. I probably won't have as many on this list but here's what I've got!! If anyone wants to add to it/self-promote feel free :]

Lullabies by BennyDwight

Rule Number 87 by orphan_account

Talking it Out by LadyStina2

I'd Move Mountains (To Hold You In My Arms Again) by Buckets_Of_Stars

You'll Always Be Safe by Cinnabunni

Mom's Favorite by CaptainLlewellyn

One Week After by ReesieReads

The Ornament by AnimationNut

Time Flies (Back) When You're (Not) Having Fun by AkozuHeiwa

Absence by RadarsTeddyBear

That's all I've got for now!! Make sure to check the tags before reading to make sure that there's nothing that will bother you <33

Do you have any DK17 fic recs? I have a need to read more of the Duck family

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!!! :D

(Also a lot of the fics I'm about to list were written by authors who have a lot of other good DT fics, so check those out, too! I'm just listing a few of my favorites here :] )

On Our Own by Godsliltippy

Unintended Consequences by Godsliltippy

Keeping the Balance by Sand_wolf579

Rose By Any Other Name Still Has Thorns by Seiicubus

help us to hear you by phillipAsoo

always here by phillipAsoo

thank you for being here by phillipAsoo

you're not broken by phillipAsoo

DT17 Magic AU by twilighteve

louie’s christmas list: reasonable, boring, scarves by Humanities_Handbag

hear these words and have faith by Rehearsal_Dweller

Stars Above by Rehearsal_Dweller

Problem Children by mandaree1

I'm a little sick right now... by ToshiChan

Huey Duck's Non-Comprehensive, Ever Growing List of Reasons Why Being a Triplet is Awesome by Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste

AND NOW MY FRIENDS CAUSE THEY'RE AMAZING:

Turbulence by CalamityOfColors

Build a Bridge, then Burn it Down by sodaschemes

Truth Serum by ReesieReads and sodaschemes

Stargazing by ReesieReads

Sacrifice 104 by ReesieReads

Shovels, Spiders, and Corn, Louie Duck’s Recipe For Disaster! by ReesieReads

Bad kid by Lunellyn

Blank by cookies_loves_duckies

Sewing. by cookies_loves_duckies

back to who I was, on to find my future by AuthorUnkind

Soaring, flying by AuthorUnkind

Crushing by Josecarioca

I'm sure that there's a lot of other great fics out there, but this is what I came up with this time! Again, make sure to check out the other DT fics that these authors have written!! And if anyone wants to, feel free to add more to this :]

(Hi @staarshiine @ninja-go-to-therapy @reesiereads @lunellyn @cookies-loves-duckies @nblaunchpad @nonbinaryboyd ily all <33)

hi! I’m so sorry if this is a bother, but i thought you might be a good person to ask. i recently rewatched danny phantom as an adult - i loved it as a kid and wanted a good dose of nostalgia. after typing in the tag it was wild to find the phandom still up and kicking (honestly with more passion than i’ve seen from any fandom in my 8 years of tumblr). i immediately came across fanart for phantom of truth which i devoured along with its sequel in just a few days. i also read pits by cordria and loved it, but in the last week i’ve hit a bit of a research lull. i was wondering if you could fill me in on some details - maybe point me in the direction of popular fics or material? also, could you please explain wes weston to me - is there a particular fic he was born from or did he just sort of appear in fan lore? if not no worries, but i’d appreciate anything you had to offer!! thanks :)

Welcome to the phandom!

So the phandom in general is SUPER big on events. We have a year round event's calendar of which we're currently celebrating Ectober Month! You can find the details to that in the calendar along with other upcoming events!

In general, you'll find a LOT of incoming dp fan media through events and their tags, and that's where I tend to find new writers/artists to follow each year.

I've made two in depth posts on Wes Weston, so I'll just link them here [1: the older detailed wes] [2: a more updated wes]. The basic intel though is that yes he's entirely a phandom made OC that we've just adopted to fill a social hole in the dp universe.

There are tons of amazing DP writers and fics. I'll link you a few of my faves! In no particular order,

1. @imekitty (her ffn) is an older phandom writer who is kinda my personal gold standard for angst. She's also done some awesome slash fics though! Her current most popular series is the Disparaged/Dissembled series and fair warning, it's pretty dark!

2. @ecto-american (ghostanimal on ao3) is another older phandom writer who's still super active! He's currently most known for his fic Broken Ectoplasm, which is a bit darker than his usual pieces. Regardless, he has a pretty good range!

3. @five-rivers (marsalias on ao3) is an absolute writing fiend. I literally can't think of a genre of fic that they haven't written. They're currently best known for their monster of a longfic Mortified, which is ongoing and currently sits at a 258 chapters, or a little over a half million words. I personally am a big fan of their Exhumed series.

4. @wastefulreverie (her ao3) doesn't write a ton for dp anymore, but her archive of fics is AMAZING. Every so often I'll just go binge her writing, it's seriously fantastic. I think she has written some of my favorite angst fics that I've found so far.

5. @ladylynse (lynse on ao3) is another really big writer who also does a fair amount of crossovers if you're into that. Currently, her biggest fic is The Trouble With Ghosts which is an extremely popular fic currently. Good stuff!

6. @things-i-cannot-do-in-amitypark (their ao3) has several extremely popular fics on ao3 and ffn. I definitely recommend checking out their stuff. They've been writing DP for years and really have a great grasp on narration and building an exciting story.

7. @kinglazrus (UnluckyAlis on ao3) is actually one of the fastest writers I've ever freaking met. They're most known for their fic The Survivalists which is about Danny's class disappearing only to be found stranded on an island. Overall, really fun writer and also a cool person as well.

8. I know you said you read Pits, but @cordria has a TON of oneshots on her Tumblr as well as her ffn and ao3. I've been following her works for years and she really is an absolute S tier writer.

9. Shift by CaptainOzone is literally my favorite dp fic ever written. The basic premise is that Danny didn't grow up in Amity, and is revealed as Phantom right before he moves there. Oz is an outstanding writer and I'm super pumped they dipped their toes into DP for this fic.

10. when im dead, my dearest by redrobin1989 is only three chapters long, but i think honestly it really exemplifies an incredibly well written Valerie-centered fic. I go back and reread it every so often because wowowow.

11. Roughing It by Haiju is a big phandom favorite. You already read PoT/SOAD, so I know you'll like this one hahaha.

12. The Ghost Of Heroes by Enigmaris and ScarletNightFury is a really popular DP/MCU crossover starring an amazing bond between Danny and Spiderman. It's a pretty lighthearted fic, but it's super fun and the storylines are really engaging.

13. Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time by MissMegHolden is a DP/Young Justice fic that's very popular right now if you like that crossover. It's ongoing and updates semi-regularly. I've been following it for a while and I love it, though this is one of my fave crossover types (and I'm a big fan of DP crossovers lmao).

14. In The Eye of a Needle by mystyrust is an extremely popular DP/BNHA crossover fic that is completed. This is another one of those fics I go back and reread a lot.

Okay I could keep going but I'm going to stop here for now. All in all, I definitely recommend scouring event tags for new writers/artists. The phandom also has a discord that you can always DM me for an invite. The phandom in general is extremely chill. We're an older fandom so we really don't have drama or anything.

Once again, I welcome you and I hope you have fun!

(oh quick plug my own ao3 i write a lot of angst)

Hello! I'm not sure if you do fics recs and if you don't you can just ignore this, but I was wondering if you have any recommendations for Danny with either the Batfam or Justice League? You seem like you're pretty well versed in the fics of this phandom lol

oh I've been reading a few lately! I'll give you a list of the ones I'm subscribed to currently ~

The Phantom and the Knight - by savya398

Resurrected? - by Playedcrowd5610

Phantom Children - by apotheosis_avaritia

Operation I'm Totally 300 - by I_Am_Toast

Dressed for Death - by Nohvarrs

have fun!

guys do we need to have the "sam wilson is not [insert romantic interest]'s therapist" talk again 😕? Because I'm seeing many fics about sam comforting bucky but almost none the other way around. Especially with karli literally dying in his arms yall the opportunities are there you just don't want to take them atp 😭 (btw if anyone could reccomend some authors that write sam being taken care of that would be much appreciated)

ooh more prompts! How about speechless for the disaster trio?

yes, haha!!! thanks for the proompt!! // from these prompts 

speechless: ahsoka can’t talk because of a sore throat

Anakin knew that Ahsoka was miserable, although he wasn’t sure what she was more miserable about—the fact that she had a sore throat, or the fact that she had a sore throat and was still at this stupid party with kids who were Ahsoka’s age and unable to make any real conversation.

That was harsh, Anakin thought, annoyed. To have them both be here when Ahsoka could hardly say two words together without her face twisting or needing to drink water. And it wasn’t exactly easy for Anakin either—he hated the silence that stretched between them, one that was only punctured by Ahsoka’s occasional cough or a yes/no question.

“You holding up okay?” Anakin asked now.

Ahsoka looked at Anakin, her lips pressed together as though to say, what do you think?

“I don’t think she liked that question,” Obi-Wan said. He had returned with drinks—well, tea. Ahsoka took it with a halfhearted smile.

“I know, I know,” Anakin said. “Figured it was worth a shot.”

“Seems like a terrible shot,” Obi-Wan commented.

Ahsoka nodded.

A few kids passed them, one of them a girl who turned once to Ahsoka. Anakin noted the girl’s shy smile before she joined her friends. When Anakin looked at Ahsoka, she was pointedly staring up at the ceiling. Anakin looked over to Obi-Wan, who he noticed had been watching too. They locked eyes for a moment, and Anakin wondered what Obi-Wan would say—but Obi-Wan just looked at his drink.

“You know,” Anakin said after a few moments, “you don’t really have a lot of opportunities to meet other people your age.”

“I—” Ahsoka started, her voice cracking. She turned away, coughed. She glared at Anakin.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said.

“Sorry,” Anakin said, looking between his former master and apprentice. “I didn’t know you’d try to defend yourself.”

When Ahsoka kept glaring, Anakin smiled. “Listen—what I mean is, you don’t have a whole ton of opportunities to meet other people your age and have fun.” He pointed to himself. “Now, me? I’m plenty fun—”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes.

“—but I have a feeling that you might need other friends,” Anakin said.

Ahsoka looked at him. She pressed her lips together again. Then opened her mouth, ready to say something, and then closed her mouth.

She walked away, and Anakin blinked. He turned to Obi-Wan. “Was that offensive?”

“Not particularly, but she might just be trying to avoid conversation,” Obi-Wan said, sipping his drink.

“Very funny.”

But no, Ahsoka was just tapping a waiter’s shoulder. She held her hand out, and after a few gestures, the waiter passed Ahsoka a notepad.

Anakin smiled to himself. Of course she would figure it out.

Ahsoka marched right back, already scribbling something on the notepad. She turned it to Anakin, and in her scrawling handwriting, Anakin read: AND WHAT ABOUT YOU?

“I have friends,” Anakin said easily.

Ahsoka frowned, then scribbled something else on her notebook. She turned it back around to Anakin: OBI-WAN’S OLDER THAN YOU

“Hm,” was Obi-Wan’s only comment.

“Rex and I are around the same age,” Anakin replied.

FAIR, BUT THAT’S ONLY ONE. YOU SAID FRIENDS, PLURAL.

“I thought we were talking about you, not me,” Anakin said. He plucked the notepad out of Ahsoka’s hand, ripped out the first few written pages. He passed it back to Ahsoka. “And anyways, it seems like you’ve figured it out—go…talk to someone. Write to someone.”

Ahsoka blinked. She started to write something down, but Anakin shook his head.

“Go,” he said, shoving Ahsoka lightly. “Pretty sure that girl’s dying for some conversation right now.”

Ahsoka’s cheeks deepened in color. She looked at Anakin, already opening her mouth again, closed it. She looked at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin looked at him in surprise, but his former master was smiling at Ahsoka. Okay, then.

Anakin cleared his throat, turned back around to Ahsoka.

“That’s an order, Snips,” he said. “Go make friends. I swear I won’t get lonely.”

Ahsoka hesitated. Then, with a small smile, she turned around and walked away.

Anakin smiled a little after her. She’d be better than him with the whole people thing, he knew. As he watched Ahsoka talk—well, write—to the girl (and the girl, to Anakin’s relief, only smiled and spoke back), he figured that would be a good thing.

Ooh, I see fever prompts! Sickfics are my jam because I always think of the times I got sick and I know how it feels to have high fevers (seriously, they suck) and sore throats among other things, so the sympathy runs high, I love seeing the hurt/comfort that can come out of them, and I’m just rambling now!

Prompt: “ let me feel your forehead. ” with, once again, anyone you feel like writing for because I love them all? Thanks in advance! ❤️

of course!! thank you for the prompt!! // from these prompts 

Obi-Wan had a feeling something was wrong with Anakin, but it was difficult to actually catch him when he seemed so intent on being anywhere Obi-Wan wasn’t.

But now Obi-Wan heard the clatter of too many things falling, followed by a series of mumbled apologies, and Obi-Wan knew that this was the time to finally corner his former apprentice. Anakin could argue with him later.

Obi-Wan walked forward, finding Anakin clumsily shoving tools back into drawers. They weren’t even going in the right places, and while Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was never one to be completely organized, he knew that Anakin at least attempted to keep at least similar tools in the same place—now, Anakin just dumped everything into a single drawer.

“You’re going to regret that later,” Obi-Wan commented.

Anakin turned around—well, almost turned around. More of the tools went scattering back to the ground.

“Great,” Anakin muttered. He got down on his knees, started picking them off the ground.

Obi-Wan knelt down next to Anakin, ignoring how Anakin scooted backwards.

That didn’t matter too much—Obi-Wan still caught the slight flush in Anakin’s cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat on his face. The slightest tremble in his hands.

Together, they put the tools back in the drawers. When Anakin wasn’t looking, Obi-Wan shifted some of them into places he knew Anakin would have usually put them.

They were almost finished when Anakin suddenly staggered, one hand on top of the drawers to steady himself. He was breathing hard, but when Obi-Wan turned to him, Anakin was already pushing himself away.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “You should get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Anakin said. He was already sitting back down by the starfighter. “Don’t you have a meeting to go to?”

“Haven’t you said that before?” Obi-Wan asked. He sat down next to Anakin and gestured. “Let me feel your forehead.”

“I’m not—” Anakin started to squirm away, but Obi-Wan had already pushed his hand up to Anakin’s forehead. As he’d suspected, Anakin’s face was too warm, and even though Obi-Wan knew Anakin hadn’t meant to, his former apprentice still relaxed under the sudden touch.

Obi-Wan smiled briefly. “I thought so.”

“Know-it-all,” Anakin muttered, but he didn’t move away.

“Only when it’s in your best interest,” Obi-Wan replied. He stood up, offering Anakin a hand. “Come now.”

Anakin hesitated.

He took Obi-Wan’s hand, and the two of them walked out of the hanger.

Must Read explicit DNF fics

In no particular order, I just wanted to share the best NSFW fics I've had the chance to read lately. 🫶

there was something in everything about you by snakeinaboyband

Teasing words, “You like my face?” His hips are being squeezed, Dream fully pressing against him, hot breath on his neck. He tries again feebly, “Let’s go watch something.” One step and then Dream loops arms under his, pressing him into a hug from behind. Words against his jaw, the press of a smile there, “George, c’mon. You like me?” Or, George loses a Mr Beast challenge but wins something else instead.

 look up at me (i'll look down at you) by effervescentwolf

“You could- you could measure me,” George offers softly, giving permission, trying to keep his thoughts from chasing fantasies. “See how much bigger you are.” “Bigger?” Dream echoes, eyes roving down, stopping to linger on certain spots that make George’s heart beat frighteningly hard in his chest. “What, should I check every inch of you?” George’s mouth runs dry. “Yes,” and it comes out as a whisper. “You- you can.” - aka Dream likes being big. George likes being small. It's a good combination.

it could be worse by dizzy

Dream and George have been sleeping together since George showed up in the US, but George wants a definition for what they are that Dream just isn't giving him.

shifting lines by alisonsomething

It starts in L.A., this thing between Dream and George.

That's how we play it by jestbee

They both agree it's just until Christmas, just while they're in London. What could possibly go wrong?

ignore my heart and lie to the truth by minecraftbed

“I just think it would be a waste,” George reasons, like this is some kind of problem he has to solve, “to not keep doing this. If we know that it’s good, and we’re not seeing other people… I don’t see why we shouldn’t do it again.” “You wanna be like… friends with benefits?”

grown fluent by falsettodrop

Going back and forth as they always did, arguing for the sake of riling each other up, for the thrill of it—there weren't power plays here. It was just Dream-and-George, as it forever had been; it was both of them giving and taking in equal measure, sharing turns with it, revelling in the ease of which they spoke to one another. - A recurring 'joke' becomes reality.

come lay me down by jestbee

"Why are you still up?" George asks. Dream shrugs. If it seems noncommittal it's only because he doesn't really know. Before, when George had still been thousands of miles away, when time and a sleep schedule meant absolutely nothing beyond being in sync, Dream might have been able to answer that question. Now, he's without excuses, without a need for his disquiet. - Four in the morning is the perfect time for a confession

Close Enough by BirbWatcher

At first, Dream managed to halfway convince himself that his attraction to George was purely physical - a reaction to his late sexual discovery that guys could be hot, too, actually, combined with a longing to experiment with the nearest specimen. But after two months of unbearable tension followed by the first couple of times hooking up, Dream realised that he was doing George a huge disservice. George had never been someone to experiment with, even though he’d been more than willing from the first night he snuck into Dream’s room - no, the longer they spent in each other’s presence, the more Dream realised that George reached far deeper than he’d ever understood before. - Dream wants more than George is giving him, but maybe it's close enough.

For The Bit by biboyhalo

George always knew moving to Florida would bring changes into his relationship with Dream. He expected the changes to be minimal, though. Being able to talk more in person, being able to spend time in each other’s proximity, and, of course, being able to see him. What he didnt expect, was the changes that came with their usual jokes. What he didn't expect, was them being able to follow them through with actions. - or 5 times Dream and George get distracted during sex and the 1 time it actually matters.

Masterlist - Mario Anon (mpreg)

what sort of dnf fic recs blog would i be if i didn't make a mario anon reclist. this is a list of all their fics (which i can find at least).

hello mario anon if you are reading this. im kind of putting you on blast on the jumbotron rn. dorry

— Dream has loads of clout and he gets some non famous idiot pregnant by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 17k)

Apparently famous x non famous is far more beloved than I realised

— Dream and George VS Infertility (DNF mpreg but the m pregging takes a while) by Anonymous (mature | comp. | 28k)

Dnf mpreg and this time there are fertility issues.

— Dream gets George pregnant: pre-visa edition by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 32k)

What it says on the tin

Part 1 of pre-visa/post-visa dnf mpreg by mario anon (idk how to do series titles tbh)

— The Mario Apple DNF Mpreg Crossover Event by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 18k)

George is pregnant, but he has AMNESIA!

note: mario anon and apple anon collab !

— dnf mpreg kinkfic and I will try to make it kinkier than last time because we all know that got too fluffy by Anonymous (expl. | comp. | 21k)

Democratically elected by the Mario Anon Comment Section (as of the time I started writing this)

Part 1 of mario anon kinkfic part 1 and 2

— George gets pregnant but it's more dramatic than usual by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 21k)

i am writing all the time

— george and patches being pregnant at the same time by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 1k)

i cannot write a long fic rn but i CAN do 3 or 4 short scenes of this

— The DNF Mpreg Holiday Special by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 7k)

Dnf mpreg but make it christmas

— Dnf mpreg but sapnap is the main character by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 7k)

when i asked for ideas on my last fic one rlly stuck out to me and i had to write it immediately

— Ordinary Mario Anon Fic by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 3k)

I'm writing DNF mpreg. everything is exactly the same. nothing is different. it is all very normal

— George Agrees To Do YouTube Boxing, You Won't BELIEVE What Happens Next (NOT CLICKBAIT!!) by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 2k)

GNF says yes to boxing but finds out he has had his m pregged by dream

— Dream Steps Up (he is a stepdad) by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 26k)

dream becomes a stepdad to one kid and then george makes him another

— dnf mpreg: pov everyone except dnf by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 19k)

i am EXPERIMENTING

— dnf have a baby together "platonically" by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 28k)

Just guys being pals (bro got homie pregnant and they're keeping it but they're totally not dating)

— Two half finished works and an apology by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 13k)

im literally STruggling

— Uh oh George is pregnant by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 22k)

Same stuff as usual

— Dream and George and a Baby (and also Sapnap is there too) (sometimes) by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 22k)

The usuals

— Dream Knocks George Up by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 17k)

so tired but i can't stop

— mpreg fic but this time its at least 5% kinky by Anonymous (mature | comp. | 17k)

George: horny and pregnant edition BUT i forgot it was supposed to b kinky and it just gets gradually less and less horny and then its just a bunch of fluff instead.

— generic mpreg title by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 14k)

same plot as all the other ones idk

Part 1 of generic mpreg

— more dnf mpreg no one asked for by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 17k)

George has his m pregged by Dream.

— George is pregnant *not clickbait* by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 10k)

Fuck! *m's your preg* I wish this was crack but it's not.

Part 1 of whats wrong with me

— Mpreg (derogatory) but also sometimes its a chatfic not really though by Anonymous (teen | comp. | 9k)

Karl dnf is real :O congratulations!! ... dream dick? George no more. no more please. Quackity HE SENT ME A DICK PIC Karl WhaT WHAT WHAT WHAT Dream BY ACCIDENT Bad okay this is my cue to leave Sapnap DREAM WHY WOULD U DO THAT

Part 1 of how do i get rid of dnf. help

My Wattpad

It’s mainly Percabeth, however, there is some other shit thrown in there. 

SerinaTheNerd

literally need a man like them

how would bllk react to reader making them lunch for their practice?? would love to see it <3

Making Them Lunch For Practice

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] bllk 11 . isagi . rin . nagi . bachira . reo . barou . yukimiya . otoya . karasu . niko . aryu . chigiri . gagamaru . raichi . hiori . nanase .

- [𝐩:𝐬] long writing . cute headcanons . boyfriend blue lock >>>>

Note: These stories came out much cuter than I had expected 😭Also I LOVE the idea of giving the boys food before/after practice. And they honestly deserve it so much too!!

Isagi Yoichi

The morning sunlight poured through the kitchen window in soft golden rays as you packed up the final touches of Isagi’s lunch. The bento box was filled with all his favorites—grilled teriyaki chicken with sesame seeds, a neat pile of tamagoyaki, sticky white rice shaped into little soccer balls with nori patterns, and even a tiny corner for strawberries you’d carved into roses. You’d woken up extra early to get it all just right.

The moment he shuffled into the kitchen, hair still messy from sleep, your heart gave that little flutter it always did when he looked at you like you were his whole world.

"Good morning, Yoichi!" you chirped, hiding the bento behind your back.

He blinked blearily, then smiled when he saw you. “Morning, babe. You’re up early... whatcha hiding?” His tone was playful, suspicious.

You pulled the bento out like a magician revealing their final trick. "Ta-da! Lunch for my star striker."

His eyes widened, then softened into the kind of expression that made you melt—a warm, slightly crooked smile, the kind he wore only when he was overflowing with affection.

“No way,” he whispered, stepping closer. “You made that… for me?”

You nodded. “You’ve been working so hard lately. I wanted to make sure you had something homemade today. Fuel for the future World Cup hero.”

He looked at the bento, then at you. Then again at the bento. “This looks… insane. It’s so perfect I almost don’t wanna eat it. Almost.”

You handed it to him, and he cradled it like it was something precious. He leaned in, kissed your forehead, then your cheek. “You’re the best, you know that? I’m gonna score today with this energy. For you.”

Later that afternoon, when the team took a break, Isagi sat down, popped open the lid, and was immediately the target of jealous stares.

“No way—Isagi, that’s homemade?” Bachira peered over his shoulder like a curious raccoon. “Can I marry them too?”

Isagi shielded the lunch protectively, cheeks red but proud. “Back off. This is power-up food. You don’t mess with power-up food.”

As he ate, he took slow, thoughtful bites, tasting every little effort you'd poured into it. In that quiet moment, surrounded by teammates yelling and the distant thud of soccer balls, he felt grounded, loved. Reinvigorated. Every bite reminded him what he was fighting for.

That night, he sent you a selfie with a thumbs up and grass in his hair.

“Scored twice today. Guess who I was thinking about every time I aimed?”

Rin Itoshi

Rin wasn’t the kind of boyfriend who asked for much. He was quiet, intense, and fully immersed in his obsession with becoming the best striker in the world. But you saw the cracks in the armor—the subtle signs of stress, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his jaw clenched after practice when he thought no one was watching.

So, today, you decided to do something for him.

You made his bento with a quiet kind of love. Rin liked clean, balanced flavors—nothing too heavy. So you cooked salmon with lemon and herbs, roasted vegetables on the side, and soba noodles with a light sesame dressing. You added two little onigiri with umeboshi, shaped into tiny hearts. He would roll his eyes at that… but not really. Deep down, he’d like it.

You made your way to the training facility just as the sun started to climb. The field was already buzzing with movement. You found Rin stretching on the sidelines, alone, headphones in, brows drawn tight. Even in the chaos, he always seemed a little apart—untouchable.

You approached slowly and tapped his shoulder.

He turned, pulling out an earbud, and his expression shifted instantly from stern focus to a more relaxed surprise. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, holding up the lunch bag. “Thought I’d drop something off before practice.”

His eyes flicked to the bag, then back to you. “You made that?”

You nodded. “Didn’t want you running on vending machine sandwiches again.”

He reached out for the lunch, fingers brushing yours just slightly longer than necessary. His voice was low. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” you said. “But I wanted to.”

For a second, Rin didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, the corners of his eyes softening. He wasn't good with words, but this was one of those moments where the silence between you both said everything.

At break time, when he sat down alone near the bench and opened the bento, he actually paused.

Heart-shaped onigiri.

He gave the tiniest huff of a laugh, barely audible. Anyone else would’ve thought he was annoyed. But he wasn’t. It made his chest feel warm in a way that almost hurt.

He ate in peace, thinking about you. Thinking about how much steadier he felt today. How the food reminded him of something he didn’t often let himself dwell on: comfort, and care, and a sense of home. You were becoming all of that to him.

Later, when he got back to his apartment, you were already there, curled up on the couch.

He placed the empty bento box beside you and sat wordlessly next to you, his arm sliding around your waist.

After a while, he said quietly, “You made me feel... full today. Not just the food.”

You rested your head against his shoulder. “Good. That was the point.”

And in the rare warmth of his post-practice peace, Rin didn’t need to say he loved you. It was in the way he leaned into your touch, relaxed for once, just breathing you in.

Nagi Seishiro

Practice was brutal today. The sun loomed high, scorching the field, and sweat clung to every player's skin like a second layer. Nagi was sprawled lazily across the grass during break, one arm slung over his eyes to block out the light.

Everything felt like such a hassle — running drills, playing scrimmages, even standing up felt like climbing a mountain.

Until he heard the soft crunch of shoes against the grass nearby.

Peeking from under his arm, he saw you, standing there awkwardly, a shy smile on your face and a small, neatly packed bento box cradled in your hands. You knelt down next to him, the scent of something warm and savory immediately teasing his senses.

“Sei… I made you lunch for practice,” you murmured, holding it out toward him.

For a second, he just stared. His silver hair clung slightly to his forehead, and his golden eyes widened — not dramatically, but enough that you caught the rare flicker of surprise there.

"You made this... for me?" he said, voice low and lazy as always, but laced with something different — a softness that made your heart flip.

He sat up slowly, as if in a daze, and accepted the box from your hands. His fingers brushed yours — clumsy, warm, and lingering longer than necessary.

He opened the lid and blinked.

Inside, it wasn’t anything fancy: rice shaped into little onigiri, some grilled chicken, rolled omelet slices, and even a few heart-shaped carrot pieces tucked carefully at the side.

"...Such a hassle," he muttered under his breath — but there was no bite to it. None at all.

In fact, he looked at the lunch as if it was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

Nagi leaned back against the grass, pulling you with him so you sat between his legs. He rested his chin lazily on your shoulder, poking at the food with his chopsticks.

"You're... really nice to me," he mumbled, a bit drowsily, "Too nice."

He fed himself a bite, and his eyes closed immediately as he savored it. A low, pleased hum rumbled from his throat, like a cat curling into sunlight.

“Mm… tastes better ‘cause it’s from you.”

He tilted his head against yours, letting his heavy body lean almost completely on you, as if he trusted you to hold him up.

Nagi didn't need grand words. His affection lived in small things — the way he fed you a bite next, murmuring "open," or the way he let you steal his water bottle later, pretending not to notice how his cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink.

That lunch break, you weren't just his s/o.

You were his comfort, his peace, his favorite kind of "not a hassle."

And he made sure you knew it, even if it was only through the lazy way his hand never left yours for the rest of the day.

Bachira Meguru

The training grounds buzzed with energy — players laughing, balls thudding against nets, coaches barking instructions. Bachira was, as always, a chaotic blur, weaving between players during scrimmage with that wild, fearless grin that made him seem half-dream, half-nightmare to anyone trying to block him.

When the break whistle finally sounded, he jogged toward the benches, sweat sticking his messy hair to his forehead. He looked around immediately, almost instinctively searching for you.

When he spotted you standing there — lunch bag dangling from your fingers, eyes bright and excited — his face lit up instantly.

"Y/N!!!" he called, waving his arms dramatically over his head as he sprinted toward you, practically knocking over a cone on the way. A few of his teammates chuckled at his antics.

You barely had time to brace yourself before Bachira threw his arms around you, spinning you in a little circle before setting you down, laughing.

"You brought me something??" he asked, eyes gleaming with pure childlike wonder.

"Yeah," you said, a little breathless from his enthusiasm. You held out the bag. "I thought you might need some fuel!"

Bachira gasped as if you'd handed him a treasure chest.

"You’re the best! The BEST best!!" he sang, bouncing on his toes as he grabbed the bag. He dropped to the grass immediately, cross-legged, unpacking it with all the care of a kid opening presents on Christmas morning.

Inside was a box packed with fun, colorful foods — little sandwiches with funny faces drawn on them with seaweed, mini skewers of fruit, tiny octopus-shaped sausages. A lunch full of surprises, just like him.

"Woaaah!! Look!! They’re smiling!!!" he giggled, showing off one of the sandwich faces to his teammate as if it were a trophy. "Y/N made it!!!"

He grabbed a sandwich, took a huge bite, and immediately threw his head back with a loud, delighted groan.

"SO GOOD!!! IT'S Y/N-FLAVORED!!!" he shouted.

You nearly choked on your own spit. "That's not — that’s not how you say it—!"

But Bachira just laughed and patted the grass next to him until you sat down too.

As he ate, he kept sneaking glances at you, eyes soft and glittering, lips curled into the most genuine, easy smile. Every few bites, he'd lean against your shoulder, humming happily.

After he finished nearly the whole box in record time, he turned to you, sandwich crumbs still stuck to his cheek.

"You know," he said, voice softer now, "when you do stuff like this... it makes my monster real happy."

You blinked. "Your monster?"

He nodded seriously, tapping his chest. "The part of me that wants to play, that wants to keep moving forward — it gets even louder when you're around. 'Cause you're my favorite person. You're the one who sees me."

You didn't even have time to respond before he tackled you into a messy hug, knocking you both into the grass, laughing.

The afternoon sun burned golden above you. And in that moment, in Bachira’s arms, hearing his laughter rumble through your back, you realized something:

You hadn’t just given him food.

You’d given him joy. You'd become part of the very thing that made him run so fearlessly across the field.

Reo Mikage

At first, Reo hadn’t even noticed you arriving. He was too busy — barking plays at teammates, that sharp glint in his eye, moving with a natural grace that made it clear: Reo Mikage didn’t just play soccer, he commanded it.

But when his gaze swept across the field mid-break and landed on you — standing there in casual clothes, holding a sleek, pastel-colored lunch box in your hands — everything else faded into static.

He immediately jogged over, ignoring the coach's call for a quick team huddle, towel slung over his neck, sweat shining on his forehead. His violet hair was messy, sticking to his skin in a way that made him look both devastatingly handsome and ridiculously approachable at the same time.

"You... came?" he said, breathless, a tiny, rare note of uncertainty in his voice.

"I made you lunch," you said simply, lifting the box.

Reo stared at it, blinking once. Twice.

"You made it yourself?"

You nodded, a little shy. "Yeah. Thought it might help you out."

He exhaled a low, almost disbelieving laugh — like he couldn’t believe someone would choose to do something so earnest for him.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmured under his breath, before taking the box from your hands like it was made of glass.

He led you to a bench in the shade, wiping his hands with his towel before peeling open the lid. His eyes widened — you had packed everything meticulously: truffle rice balls (you remembered he liked a little luxury), grilled teriyaki chicken, pickled vegetables, and a few tiny sweets tucked into the corner for afters.

"You… remembered all my favorites," he said, voice thick with something heavier than gratitude. "You’re gonna spoil me."

He picked up a bite with his chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully. As the flavors melted on his tongue, his head tilted back slightly, and he let out the softest, most genuine sound you’d ever heard from him — a sound of complete bliss.

Then he turned that dazzling, megawatt grin on you.

"You’re dangerous," he said, resting his elbow on his knee and leaning toward you with lazy, flirtatious ease. "If you keep doing stuff like this, I’ll have to marry you."

He was joking — kind of. But you caught the way his cheeks flushed slightly pink under the midday sun.

Before you could answer, Reo leaned in, kissed your forehead, and whispered:

“Thank you, princess. I’ll make it up to you after practice.”

Later that night, he sent you dozens of texts planning your next date, determined to outdo your thoughtfulness with something that would leave you speechless instead.

Because Mikage Reo didn’t just receive love. He matched it, multiplied it, and sent it back tenfold.

Barou Shoei

Barou was the picture of intensity on the field — a storm wrapped in a man’s body, every move sharp and decisive. His presence was so overwhelming, sometimes people flinched just trying to meet his gaze.

You stood at the edge of the practice grounds, lunch bag clutched to your chest, heart hammering. How would he react? Would he even accept it?

When break was called, Barou stalked toward the sidelines, towel over his shoulder, glaring at the ground as if daring it to challenge him. He barely noticed you at first — until he caught your familiar scent carried on the breeze.

He stopped dead in his tracks, lifting his head.

You stepped forward nervously. "Shouei... I made you lunch."

The entire world seemed to go silent.

He stared. His red eyes locked onto yours — intense, unblinking — and for one terrifying moment, you thought you’d made a mistake.

Then, wordlessly, he closed the distance between you.

His hand — big, calloused, and impossibly gentle — took the lunch bag from yours.

He opened it without a word, revealing a sturdy bento box filled with hearty food: thick-cut beef with rice, roasted vegetables, a miso soup flask on the side, and a small, clumsy hand-written note tucked between the layers.

"Eat up, King. You deserve it."

Barou’s brows twitched. He picked up the note, holding it like it was made of precious metal.

He cleared his throat, glancing around to make sure no one was paying too much attention, before sitting heavily on the bench nearby. You hesitated, but he shot you a glare — not a mean one, but the kind that said: Don’t even think about leaving.

He dug into the food without fanfare, biting into the beef first.

A beat of silence.

Then a low, pleased rumble vibrated from deep in his chest, almost like a growl.

"This is... good," he muttered gruffly, eyes lowered like he didn’t want you to see the way they softened.

You smiled, cheeks burning.

Barou ate quickly, efficiently, every so often glancing at you like he still couldn’t believe you had taken the time to do this for him. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stood up, and loomed over you.

"You got guts, bringin’ somethin’ like this to me," he said, tone rough. But you could hear the pride underneath. "Good guts."

Then, awkwardly — very awkwardly — he ruffled your hair, so clumsily it almost knocked you backward.

"You’re mine," he said bluntly. "You got that?"

And before you could answer, Barou stalked off toward practice again, chest puffed out, moving like he had just scored a hat-trick — because deep down, he knew: no victory on the field could ever compare to winning your heart.

Yukimiya Kenyu

The sharp click of cleats on pavement echoed across the training center as Yukimiya wiped the sweat from his brow. Everything he did, he did with precision — from the clean dribble of his feet to the way he tied his hair up neatly after a scrimmage.

He moved with that serious, almost elegant grace that always made you want to watch him a little longer than you should.

And today, he was extra focused — his practices had been getting longer and harder, and you knew better than anyone that he pushed himself beyond exhaustion sometimes. That’s why you stood near the benches, holding a slim, stylish bento box — something you knew he would appreciate.

When Yukimiya spotted you, his steps faltered. His sharp, almost guarded eyes softened in an instant.

He approached, towel slung around his neck, posture still straight even as exhaustion weighed on him. His voice was low, a little surprised:

"You came all this way?"

You smiled and held out the bento.

"I made you something. Thought you could use a little break... and a little love."

The tips of Yukimiya’s ears turned pink — a detail so small, so fleeting, you might’ve missed it if you weren’t watching closely.

He accepted the box with a kind of reverence, like it was something priceless. Sitting down gracefully on the bench, he opened it carefully.

Inside, you had packed it beautifully: fresh salads with vinaigrette on the side, grilled fish, brown rice, slices of colorful fruit arranged like a painting. It looked healthy, but still indulgent — exactly what you knew he'd prefer.

Yukimiya set his chopsticks down for a moment, simply staring at it.

"You're... incredible," he said quietly, almost like he was speaking to himself. "Even the presentation is beautiful."

You sat beside him, a little shy.

Without a word, he picked up a piece of melon and held it up toward you.

"Say ah," he murmured, his lips curving in a soft, rare smile.

You blinked, heat rushing to your face, but you obeyed — and he laughed under his breath, his shoulders relaxing in a way that rarely happened during the tense, grueling days of training.

As he ate, he never once took his eyes off you — as if he was reminding himself that you were real, that this moment was real.

Between bites, he said softly:

"You're the only one who sees me like this... not as a player, not as a product... just me."

And when practice ended later, Yukimiya didn’t rush to leave. Instead, he pulled you gently into a hug, resting his forehead against yours, whispering:

"Stay close to me... okay?"

Because to him, you weren't just a break from reality. You were the only part of it he wanted to keep forever.

Otoya Eita

Otoya had been flirting shamelessly with his teammates during practice again — smirking, teasing, tossing careless winks like candy. It was part of his charm: that smooth, effortless charisma that could melt through defenses faster than any soccer tactic.

But the moment he caught sight of you standing near the fence, a small lunch bag in your hand, that playful mask slipped.

For just a heartbeat, his smile softened into something real.

He jogged over, running a hand through his tousled hair, his black earrings glinting under the sun.

"Yo, babe~" he drawled, flashing you that signature lazy grin. "Did you come just to watch me show off?"

You rolled your eyes, heart fluttering anyway.

"No, Eita," you said, holding up the bag. "I made you lunch."

That caught him off guard. His eyebrows shot up, a genuine, boyish surprise lighting up his whole face.

"For me?"

You nodded, pushing it into his hands. "Yeah. Thought you might need a little extra energy."

He stared at the bag, as if unsure he deserved it.

Otoya quickly masked the flicker of emotion with a smirk, but you saw it — the way his fingers clutched the handles tighter, how his gaze lingered on you with a rare intensity.

He pulled you into a quick, sneaky hug, murmuring into your hair:

"You're way too good to me, you know that?"

Otoya dragged you to sit with him on the grass, unwrapping the lunch like a kid unwrapping a birthday gift.

Inside, you had packed a bunch of fun, easy-to-eat foods: sandwiches cut into triangles, juicy karaage chicken bites, spicy mayo dip, and a few cookies you'd decorated sloppily with little hearts.

He laughed — this big, beautiful, real laugh — when he saw the cookies.

"You made these for me?" he said, mock-offended. "What if I get cavities, huh? Gonna pay my dental bills?"

But he popped one into his mouth without hesitation, chewing happily.

You sat next to him, basking in the late afternoon sun, the noise of practice fading into background static.

After a few bites, he leaned in close, bumping his forehead against yours.

"You're dangerous, babe," he whispered, lips brushing your ear. "Make me start thinking about things that aren't soccer."

His voice dropped lower, only for you to hear:

"Like how good you'd look sitting in my kitchen, making me breakfast in the morning."

You laughed, pushing him away playfully, cheeks burning — and he laughed too, catching your hand mid-air and bringing it to his lips for a quick, teasing kiss.

But behind all the flirting, you knew something real was blooming there — something a little scary, a little thrilling.

Because Otoya Eita was used to running.

And somehow, you were the one person he was sprinting toward.

Karasu Tabito

Training had been relentless today. Karasu’s shirt clung to him, black hair messy and sticking to his forehead, dark eyes sharp as ever as he lazily dribbled the ball between his feet even during breaks.

He was sharp, cocky — the kind of guy whose whole aura screamed "I don’t need anyone." And yet, the second he caught sight of you waiting by the benches, arms behind your back and a little nervous bounce to your step, something in him faltered.

He kicked the ball aside with casual precision and started walking toward you, every step slow, deliberate — the smirk playing at his lips giving nothing away.

"Yo," he said, voice low, almost teasing. "Came to see me break ankles, sweetheart?"

You rolled your eyes and held up a sleek black lunch box, matching his aesthetic a little too perfectly.

"I brought you lunch. Thought you could use it... since you're out here pretending you're invincible or whatever."

For a split second — and it was so fast you almost missed it — Karasu's cocky front slipped. His eyes widened, blinking once. Then he chuckled under his breath, that deep, rough sound you loved so much.

"You're dangerous," he muttered, more to himself than to you.

He sat down right there on the grass, patting the spot beside him without a word. When you sat, he immediately pulled the box open.

Inside, you'd packed some high-protein onigiri, grilled chicken, pickled sides, and a few extra things you knew he liked — even tucked in a mini dessert. Nothing too flashy, but thoughtful. Personal.

Karasu stared at the food, silent.

Then he said, quietly:

"You know me too well."

He ate slowly at first, savoring it — and every once in a while, he'd glance sideways at you, like he couldn't believe you were real.

"You didn't have to do this," he murmured between bites. "I mean... I can take care of myself."

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "Maybe I want to take care of you sometimes."

That shut him up fast.

For once, Karasu didn't have a smartass comment ready. He just stared at you, mouth slightly open, chopsticks frozen mid-air.

Finally, he set them down, turned fully toward you, and leaned in — not smirking, not teasing — just... looking at you with this rare, intense sincerity.

"You’re lucky I’m crazy about you," he said, voice low, rough around the edges. "Otherwise, I'd never let anyone see me this soft."

And when practice resumed, Karasu played sharper, faster — like he had something more precious to protect now. Because he did. He had you.

Niko Ikki

Niko wasn't flashy. Where others shouted, flexed, and demanded attention, he operated like a ghost on the field — quiet, tactical, always watching.

Which made him pretty good at noticing things others missed. Like you, standing by the fence, nervously adjusting the strap of the small cooler bag you brought.

His green eyes caught yours almost instantly. He hesitated, brushing the hair from his face awkwardly, then jogged over, wiping his hands on his shorts.

"Y/N?" he asked, voice soft, a little breathless.

You held up the bag, heart hammering. "I... made you lunch. For after practice. If you want it."

Niko froze. Like, actually froze.

You could see the gears turning in his head, short-circuiting. Was this some dream? A prank? Did he accidentally hit his head during drills?

"You made this... for me?"

You nodded.

Slowly — so slowly, it was almost shy — Niko reached out and took the bag from your hands. His fingers brushed yours, and his ears immediately turned a vivid pink.

He led you over to the edge of the field, sitting on the grass cross-legged, handling the bag like it was fragile.

Opening it carefully, he found a simple, cozy meal: Tamago (egg) sandwiches, some homemade rice crackers, a few veggie sticks, and a neatly wrapped banana muffin for dessert. Nothing extravagant — but every part of it screamed "I know you."

Niko stared at the food. Then at you. Then back at the food.

You watched him, worried.

"Is it okay? I didn't know what you usually eat for practice days, so I kinda guessed—"

"It's perfect," he interrupted, voice so soft it almost got swallowed by the breeze.

He took a small, careful bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly.

And then — The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Barely there. Fleeting. But real.

"This... feels like a dream," he muttered, half to himself. "No one's ever done something like this for me before."

You blinked. "Really?"

He shook his head, still smiling that barely-there smile that made your chest ache a little.

"...You're special," he said simply. "You always make me feel like I'm worth noticing."

And as the other players called him back to drills, Niko stood slowly, setting the box aside for later, but not before gently — awkwardly — patting your head in thanks.

He jogged back onto the field with a little more spring in his step. Like somehow, your lunch had fueled more than just his body. It had fueled his heart.

Aryu Jyubei

Even in the middle of grueling practice, Aryu was… well, Aryu. Perfect posture. Every movement clean, elegant, as if he were modeling instead of sprinting drills.

You stood off to the side, nervously holding a gorgeous, ribbon-wrapped bento box you had painstakingly designed to look good — because you knew, with Aryu, it was always about beauty.

When he finally caught sight of you, his silver hair catching the sunlight like a halo, his entire demeanor shifted.

He slowed down, almost like he was gliding across the field rather than walking.

When he reached you, he smiled — dazzling, flawless — brushing imaginary dust off his jersey before he spoke.

"My lovely," he said smoothly, voice like honey. "Is this a gift for me?"

You nodded, a little breathless, and held out the lunchbox.

"I made you lunch. I tried to make it... you know... aesthetically pleasing, too."

Aryu's lavender eyes widened ever so slightly — a flicker of real surprise. He took the box from your hands with exaggerated care, like it was an ancient artifact, holding it delicately between long fingers.

"You tailored it... for my beauty standards," he said softly, his voice dropping a few octaves. "You're too perfect."

He moved to a shaded bench and beckoned you to join him with a graceful tilt of his head. Sitting with one leg elegantly crossed over the other, he opened the box slowly.

Inside? You had arranged everything meticulously: — Color-coordinated vegetables, — Heart-shaped tamagoyaki, — Rice balls with edible flower petals pressed into them, — Grilled salmon cut into neat, symmetrical strips.

It looked like something out of a high-end magazine shoot.

Aryu's lips parted slightly in amazement.

"This..." he whispered. "This is art."

You sat down beside him, heart hammering.

He took a bite, still poised and elegant — and then he actually closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. When he opened them again, his gaze locked onto you with something deeper than gratitude — something raw, real.

"You nourish my soul," he said seriously, resting a hand lightly over his heart. "You nourish my beauty."

Then — and you swear your heart actually stopped — Aryu reached out and gently, so gently, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Perfect," he murmured under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself.

From that day on, he posted about your lunches online (with your permission) — captioning them with things like, "True beauty is made with love. #Blessed #LunchGoals."

And every time he practiced, he pushed himself a little harder — because how could he not? The most beautiful thing in his life was already cheering for him.

Chigiri Hyoma

Chigiri Hyoma was a storm bottled inside a porcelain frame. Fast, sharp, and achingly beautiful — like something that wasn’t meant for this world.

You stood near the track where he was finishing his sprints, heart pounding, clutching the small thermos and bento box you'd packed just for him.

His long crimson hair streamed behind him like a banner as he raced past — so fast it took your breath away.

And then — As if sensing your gaze — Chigiri skidded to a graceful stop, turning his head slightly, strands of hair framing his delicate, sharp-edged face.

When he saw you, something subtle shifted in his expression — a softening that few ever got to witness.

He jogged over, light on his feet, wiping sweat off his brow.

"Hey," he said, voice low and a little surprised. "You’re here?"

You nodded, shy but determined, holding out the food.

"I made you lunch. For after practice."

Chigiri blinked. His gaze flickered from your face to the lunch, and back to your face again.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

You saw it — the walls he kept so carefully built up wobbling ever so slightly.

"You made this for me?" he asked, voice dropping even softer, like he was almost afraid to say it too loud and scare the moment away.

"Yeah," you said, smiling. "I figured you'd need something good after training so hard."

Slowly — hesitantly — Chigiri reached out and took the bento box from you. His fingers brushed yours, and you felt how slightly his hand was trembling.

He led you over to a quiet corner where he could open it away from the others. Sitting on the grass, he peeled open the lid — and his eyes widened slightly.

You had packed light but hearty food — udon noodles with fresh vegetables, marinated tofu, slices of sweet rolled omelet, and fresh strawberries, knowing he loved them. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was everything he needed.

He looked at it. Then at you.

"...You know me better than anyone," he said quietly.

He took a bite, chewing slowly — and for the first time in a long time, you saw it: The way his entire body relaxed, the way his shoulders dropped from their usual tense coil.

When he finished eating, Chigiri set the box aside and leaned back on his hands, face tilted toward the sky, crimson hair catching the breeze.

Then, in a voice so soft you almost missed it, he said:

"You're my favorite reason to run."

And when he looked at you, eyes shining like rubies, you knew: He wasn’t just running for himself anymore.

He was running toward you.

Gagamaru Gin

Practice was brutal today — the kind where even the air feels heavy, and the turf sticks stubbornly to the soles of your shoes. Gagamaru had thrown himself at every shot, dove at impossible angles, muscles aching in ways he didn't even realize possible. The coach finally blew the whistle for a break, and the players scattered to catch their breath.

Gagamaru wiped the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt and wandered toward the benches, his mind already halfway gone to food — anything, at this point. Maybe the vending machines still had something halfway edible.

But then he saw you.

Standing awkwardly near the sidelines, clutching a lunchbox like it was some kind of sacred artifact, you waved the moment he noticed you. His eyes lit up instantly — not in a loud, dramatic way, but in that quiet, stunned Gagamaru way, like a puppy realizing its favorite person was in the room.

He jogged over to you, hair bouncing slightly with each step, a rare grin spreading across his flushed face.

"You… made me lunch?" he asked, voice rough from shouting during drills, but so, so soft when speaking to you.

You nodded shyly, handing it over. It wasn't anything crazy — just simple food you knew he liked: grilled onigiri, karaage, some tamagoyaki, and fresh fruits tucked in the corners like tiny bursts of color. You had even slipped a tiny handwritten note between the compartments ("Eat well, dummy! ❤️").

Gagamaru took the box in both hands like he was afraid he'd crush it if he wasn't careful. He dropped onto the bench right there and ripped off the lid with boyish excitement, inhaling the scent.

"Whoa... it smells so good," he mumbled, practically bouncing on his seat. Without hesitation, he popped a rice ball into his mouth, his eyes going wide mid-bite.

"Thish ish... amazhing," he said, voice muffled through a full mouth.

You laughed, sitting beside him. He offered you a bite like it was instinct — holding out a piece of chicken with his chopsticks toward your mouth, utterly earnest.

"Eat with me," he said, grinning in that slightly dopey, infinitely sweet way only Gagamaru could.

And for the rest of the break, the two of you sat side by side, sharing bites, his knee bumping against yours every so often. He kept sneaking glances at you, a quiet, contented look on his face that said more than words ever could: Thank you. Thank you for thinking of me. Thank you for caring.

He even insisted on carrying the empty box himself after, carefully tucking it into his duffel like it was treasure.

Before jogging back to practice, he paused, turned, and with a sudden rush of boldness pressed a quick, clumsy kiss against your temple.

"I’ll score one for you today," he promised, eyes bright with the kind of simple, fierce devotion only Gagamaru knew how to give.

Raichi Jingo

The locker room still smelled like sweat and metal, even with half the windows cracked open. Raichi Jingo slammed his locker shut, his foot tapping out a restless rhythm against the tile floor.

Today’s drills had been intense — too many scrimmages, too many chances for him to lose his temper at some idiot who didn't pass when they should’ve. He was on edge, frustration bubbling under his skin, needing an outlet.

So when he stepped outside and saw you waiting by the field gates — holding a lunch bag, looking nervous but hopeful — it almost didn't register at first. He blinked, a scowl still half-formed on his face, until it clicked.

You. Lunch. For him.

He stomped over, face flushing a deep red not from the heat, but from the unfamiliar cocktail of emotions tangling in his chest.

"W-what the hell are you doing here?!" he barked instinctively — too loud, too harsh. But then he caught the slight falter in your smile and cursed himself mentally.

You lifted the bag toward him. "I, um… thought you might want something homemade before the next scrimmage?"

He stood there for a second, hands balled into fists at his sides, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him. Then, wordlessly, he grabbed the bag from you — not roughly, but like he didn’t trust himself to be gentler.

He turned his back for a second, breathing out hard, before plopping down right on the grass. He cracked open the bag and froze.

Inside was his favorite: katsudon, hot and fragrant, with the egg perfectly runny and the pork golden-crispy. You had even packed a side of miso soup in a thermos, and a small pudding cup (with a stupid little smiley face sticker on the lid).

Raichi swallowed hard. His throat felt too tight for some reason.

"You're... really trying to kill me, huh," he muttered, not looking at you. But when you laughed — that soft, genuine laugh — he peeked up, ears red, and finally cracked a small, crooked smile.

He ate like he was starving, shoving spoonfuls into his mouth, muttering how "this was the only good thing that happened today" under his breath. Every now and then he’d glance sideways at you, trying to be subtle but failing miserably, cheeks tinted pink.

After finishing, he set the empty container down carefully. He didn't say thank you — not in words — but he shifted closer to you, bumped his shoulder into yours roughly, like a kid asking for attention.

"Tch. Next time... bring two portions," he grumbled. "You barely get any if you just sit there watching me, dumbass."

It wasn’t the smoothest thanks. It wasn’t even close. But from the way Raichi sat a little closer after that, from the way he picked at the grass nervously while sneaking glances at you — it was clear:

He was grateful. So, so much more grateful than he could ever put into words.

And when he got up to head back to practice, he ruffled your hair — quick, rough, affectionate — before stomping off, barking at his teammates like usual. But his voice had a little more warmth to it now. And every now and then, he’d shoot a cocky, almost-boyish grin back at you from across the field.

Hiori Yo

The sun barely peeked through the heavy gray clouds overhead. It felt like the whole world was weighed down, sluggish and quiet — matching the mood inside Hiori Yo’s chest.

Practice today was grueling, but it wasn’t just the drills that exhausted him. It was the constant gnawing voice in the back of his mind, whispering that he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t moving fast enough, wasn’t shining the way he should. He hated that voice. He hated that it still had power over him sometimes.

As he trudged off the field toward the benches, his head low, he saw a small figure waiting for him. You. Standing there, shifting your weight nervously from foot to foot, holding a lunch bag decorated with little blue stars — the color you knew he liked.

At first, Hiori thought he was hallucinating out of exhaustion. But when you lifted the bag shyly and waved at him, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You... came here for me?" he asked quietly, disbelief plain in his voice.

You nodded, smiling a little, though your hands trembled just enough for him to notice. "I thought… maybe you could use a break. A good one."

For a long moment, Hiori just stared, his usually guarded expression slipping away. And then — like a dam breaking — the softest smile curled onto his lips. A real one. The kind that was rare, precious, like sunlight after a long rain.

He walked over, taking the bag almost reverently from your hands.

Sitting beside you on the bench, he opened it carefully — and when he saw the neat little arrangement inside, his throat tightened. You had packed everything he loved without being over-the-top: a homemade sandwich with fresh, crisp veggies and chicken, his favorite kind of potato salad, and even a tiny matcha-flavored sweet tucked in the corner.

You even remembered to include a tiny packet of hand wipes — because you knew how meticulous he was about not feeling "sticky" when he ate.

"You…" he started, then stopped. His voice cracked embarrassingly.

Instead, he set the lunch down, leaned toward you, and pressed his forehead gently against your shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered, so soft you almost missed it under the breeze.

He ate slowly, savoring every bite, and he kept glancing at you — like he couldn’t believe you were real, sitting there next to him, just for him. When he finished, he carefully tucked everything back into the bag, his movements almost tender.

Then, without warning, he turned to you fully, his ocean-blue eyes clear and steady.

"When I’m on the field today," he said, voice steady, "I’ll remember this feeling. I’ll remember that someone believes in me."

And he said it like a promise — not just to you, but to himself.

Before heading back to practice, he surprised you by reaching out and taking your hand — fingers sliding between yours, gentle but sure — and giving it a small, grateful squeeze.

Nanase Nijiro

The energy on the field was electric today — shouts, laughter, the slap of cleats against the turf. Nanase Nijiro was everywhere, darting around like a bright bolt of energy, even as sweat soaked through his practice jersey.

Still, there was a tiredness under his smile. The kind you only saw if you knew him well — the kind where he pushed himself harder than he should, afraid of falling behind.

As the whistle blew for a break, he wiped his forehead with his sleeve, heart hammering in his chest. He was about to make a beeline for his water bottle when he saw you standing just beyond the field.

The moment his eyes landed on you, his whole face lit up.

"(Y/N)!!" he shouted, waving both arms above his head like an overexcited kid. He sprinted toward you, practically skidding to a stop in front of you, his grin so wide it almost hurt to look at.

"What’re you doing here?!" he beamed. Then he noticed the lunch bag in your hands.

His eyes widened comically. "Wait. Is that... is that for me??"

You laughed, handing it to him. "Yeah. Thought you might be hungry."

"Hungry?? I'm starving!" he groaned dramatically, clutching the bag to his chest like it was a lifeline.

Without any hesitation — like it was the most natural thing in the world — he plopped down cross-legged right there on the grass, pulling you down beside him with a happy tug on your wrist.

He opened the bag with the kind of reverence most people reserved for opening presents on Christmas morning. Inside was a bento box you had carefully arranged: fluffy rice topped with sesame seeds, grilled fish, sautéed vegetables, and a few carefully cut fruit slices in the shape of little hearts. You had even tucked in a tiny note that said, "For my favorite striker!" with a doodle of a tiny soccer ball.

Nanase stared at it for a second, then looked up at you, his green eyes wide and glassy.

"You made this? Like, actually??" he said, voice cracking slightly.

When you nodded, he clutched the bento to his chest again dramatically. "This is... the greatest day of my life," he announced solemnly, making you burst into laughter.

He dug in with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn't eaten in days — humming happily at every bite, practically bouncing in place. Every now and then he would pause, shove a piece of fruit toward your mouth, insisting you eat too.

"This is insane," he said between bites. "You're insane. You're amazing. I'm gonna score a hat trick today, I swear on this lunch."

After he finished (and licked the lid of the bento clean, because Nanase was nothing if not shameless when it came to food you made), he turned to you, practically vibrating with energy.

"Stay and watch, okay?" he pleaded, cheeks flushing. "I’m gonna play my heart out. For you."

He looked so earnest, so absolutely bright, you couldn't help but promise you would.

And when he ran back onto the field, he turned around once — just once — to shoot you a grin so dazzling it could’ve powered the floodlights on its own.

need this, need him, need your writing

being with you doesn't feel like drowning,

from vi

ᰔ pairing . . . m. townsend !

ᰔ with . . . a f!reader

ᰔ category . . . angst. hurt with comfort. one - shot. requested.

ᰔ in which . . . when you saw michael's injuries, everything falls apart. trust is broken, & the connection you two had is tested. michael attempts to keep the truth from you, but it's too late▰the damage is done. now, both of you have to deal with the repercussions of your actions.

ᰔ tags . . . 5.4k. major spoilers. reader is not a natural but not invisible. raised in the house, still feels like a guest. trust issues ft. too many secrets. blue-purple bruises. “i never asked you to love me” <— okay jane austen boy, ouch. the slow burn of breaking down walls. everyone knows but no one says it. fbi = feelings buried indefinitely. friends who read you like crime scenes. windowsill confessions. love, interrupted. trust issues but make it cozy. held together by forehead kisses. he reads you better than his files. love in lowercase. statistics say he shouldn't love this hard (he does). he’d classify you as essential personnel. ooc. grammatical errors.

ᰔ look around . . . m. list , m. townsend & the naturals m. list

────── vi whispers . . . ᰔ

001. AAAAA, nonnie,,, this was supposed to be 7k but it DIDN'T save💔 im sorryyyyy😭😭

002. you sent this around three am ish & i was LOCKED in❕❕

003. idk if i did you justice, nonnie 💔💔

004. horrible writing because i started writing this at,,,, 3 am

005. also... i couldn't keep this spoiler free😭😭 my head was blank because WHAT WOULD THE TOPIC OF THEIR ARGUMENT BE????? so i js... tweaks & tweaks..

006. as i said in note four,, this is badly written so don't expect much 😭 I CAN'T WRITE ANGST

you weren't supposed to be here.

judd had instructed you to remain where you were, michael would return tomorrow.

& sure, perhaps you were snooping, perhaps you shouldn't have gone into his room without knocking, but you were missing him, and the jacket he'd left behind still smelled of him.

besides, you've done the groceries.(that usually takes you all day because the group chat keeps adding more things to the list.)

so you'd gone in.

& hell broke loose.

because the moment you laid eyes on the bruises, the cut on his jaw, the way he winced when he reached too far▰your breath caught in your throat.

you weren't a profiler, hell, you're not even a natural but you weren't stupid either.

you knew what a beating looked like. & michael could lie with a smile, but his body was always honest. especially to you.

he turned just as you walked in.

froze.

like a deer in headlights.

like he hadn't meant for anyone to see him this way.

you didn't speak.

he didn't either.

just stood there, half-shirted, ribs smeared with ugly blue-purple marks.

& god, it was like someone injected ice water into your veins.

because he told you it was a family business.

he told you he was fine.

& you believed him.

"what the hell," you said, hushed. too hushed.

he hauled down the hem of his shirt. "it's nothing."

"don't," you said, & your voice broke in a way you despised.

"don't do that."

he sat on the edge of the bed like this was normal. like you didn't just interrupt something that made your chest too tight to breathe.

"you're back early," he said, staring at the floor.

"& you're bruised," you snapped. "so maybe we both have bad timing."

he sighed. "it's not a big deal."

"not a big deal?" you had said, voice rising before you pushed it back down. "michael, what the hell are you even saying right now?"

he didn't glance your way.

didn't blink.

just kept his eyes fixed on the floor as if he remained silent long enough, all of this would disappear.

"you went back there," you told him. "to your dad."

"i told you i was visiting family."

"you lied."

he glanced up then, and sure, maybe you did wait for that. maybe you needed to see his face.

because he didn't look angry.

he looked exhausted.

so exhausted it curled your stomach.

"what do you want me to say?" he asked.

you blinked. "i want you to say something."

he got up, & you resented how slow & deliberate his movements were.

you resented that he was accustomed to pain like this.

like it was normal.

like it was a habit.

"i'm fine."

"you're not fine."

"this happens," he said. "it's not new."

you stepped forward, fists curled at your sides. "you've been my boyfriend for months. & i never knew."

"because i didn't want you to know."

that line hurt more than it should have.

"why?"

"because it's my problem," he stated, finally, like something in him cracked open.

"it's not yours. it's not anyone's. i've been dealing with this my whole life▰"

"that's the problem," you cut in, voice low. "you deal with it like it's your fault."

he paced slightly, running a hand through his hair. "don't psychoanalyze me."

"i'm not," you said. "i'm begging you to talk to me."

he fell silent again.

& you hated that.

because he was so good at this▰retreating into silence, allowing you to talk until you quit.

but you weren't quitting. not today.

"do you even trust me?" you asked.

his jaw clenched. "don't do that."

"don't do what?" you snapped. "don't ask if my boyfriend▰who's keeping this from me▰trusts me?"

he remained silent.

"you didn't tell me," you breathed. "you didn't tell anyone, but▰"

"lia knows," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

you stiffened.

you glared at him like he slapped you.

"what?"

he gazed away once more. "she figured it out. it's not like i told her."

"but she knew," you replied. "and she didn't say anything."

"that's not her job."

"it's not yours either, apparently," you snarled.

the silence that hung between you afterwards was colder than anything else.

you didn't weep. you wouldn't.

but god, you wished to scream.

"do you have any idea how dumb this makes me feel?" you asked, voice trembling though you resented that it was. "do you have any idea how it feels to be excluded from everything because i'm not one of you?"

his eyes grew cold. "this has nothing to do with you not being a natural."

"doesn't it?" you asked. "because you tell them things. they know things. & i'm just the girl who was raised in the house & still gets treated like a guest."

he opened his mouth. closed it.

& that was the worst part▰he didn't argue.

he didn't fight back.

because maybe he knew you were right.

"i've been here since i was eight," you said. "i grew up with you people. judd raised me. hell, tanner used to read me silly bedtime stories, i cleaned up after sloane when she spilled powdered sugar all over the place, i held lia's hand when she got stitches, i taught dean how to braid hair because his kept falling in his eyes, i let cassie stay in my room because that stupid locke haunts her every time.”

your voice cracked again.

you're no natural, just someone scarlett hawkins took in before she died. & judd didn't send you to an orphanage because he knows that this is what his daughter wants. you don't know what she sees in you, but there was something. you had skills, enough to be qualified in the fbi. if it weren't for your age.

"but i'm not a natural. so i'm not one of you."

michael didn't look at you.

& that only made it worse.

"you were the only one who made me feel like i belonged," you said softly now. "you were the only one who didn't look at me like i was on the outside. so i don't get why you shut me out too."

he finally looked up.

& he looked destroyed. wrecked.

"because it's not about you," he told me, & his voice wasn't angry. just tired. "it's about me. it's about not wanting to see your face change when you look at me. it's about keeping the only good thing in my life safe."

"safe?" you echoed. "from what? the truth?"

"from me."

you looked at him.

& this time, you said nothing.

he exhaled & sat back down, as if standing was now too much work.

"you weren't supposed to see," he said. "i know how to handle it. i've done it before."

"& how's that working out for you?" you asked, frustration boiling. "you keep going back, michael. you keep getting hurt. what, you think that's brave? you think it's strength?"

"i think it's survival," he said harshly.

"then perhaps you should learn a new means of survival."

he didn't say anything.

you took a trembling breath, pacing now, because if you stood still the room felt like it was closing in on you.

"you should've told me," you said. "even if you didn't want to be helped. even if you didn't want me to make it better. i'm not asking to be your savior. i'm just asking to know."

he nodded once, slowly.

but it did not feel like an honest answer.

it felt like he was folding in again on himself.

closing off.

retreating.

"you don't get to make choices about me," you said, coming closer again. "you don't get to choose what i can or cannot handle. if you didn't want me on board, then maybe you should not have gotten me to fall in love with you."

his head jerked up.

you hadn't intended to say it like that.

but it was out now, & you weren't backing down.

"i never asked you to love me," he said, voice low but cutting.

& wow.

that hurt more than it should've.

you blinked. "no. i guess you didn't."

he shut his eyes. ran his hands through his hair once more. "that's not what i meant."

"but it's what you said."

he glared up at you again. "i didn't mean it like that. i just▰this▰"

he pointed vaguely at his ribs.

"this is ugly. & i didn't want you to see it."

"well, i did," you said. "so now what?"

he didn't speak.

you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity.

neither of you saying a word.

& perhaps that was worse than the words.

because it meant you were both suspended in the in-between.

not broken up.

not fine.

just there.

distant, angry, & unsure what was next.

the ssilence between you & michael was heavy for days.

it wasn't just the fight anymore▰it was the way it landed in the space between you.

you weren't broken up, but the air was thick with things unspoken, with questions still hanging, unasked.

you tried to concentrate on the work.

attempted to bury yourself in homework, in assisting the team, despite your heart feeling as if it were walking around with a pain you could not rid yourself of.

didn't help that everyone else seemed to be able to tell something was wrong.

lia saw someone was off first, naturally.

she always did. she knows you. & that isn't because she's a lie detector or anything of the sort.

she was a lie detector, & even when you tried to smile, she was aware.

the way your shoulders stiffened every time michael entered the room. the manner in which you always averted your gaze before anyone had time to ask. you could sense her gaze upon you, could sense her attempting to read you & send shivers down your spine.

but you never allowed her to ask.

you couldn't.

not yet.

cassie. oh, cassie. she noticed. when she came to your room that night, asking for comfort, your eyes looked puffy. red.

you looked like you didn't want to talk about it. so she didn't. only hoping her embrace will at least make you feel better. hoping that the next time she enters your room, your eyes won't look tired or puffy or red or sad.

& then there was dean.

dean. someone who knew you since you were twelve.

dean. someone whom you thought of as a brother in every sense that counted.

dean, who observed you going in & out of the safe house with michael, who guarded you with a look that made his eyes keen & his fists even keener.

you noticed it in the way he looked at you now.

the way he questioned you with his eyes, with the way he stayed too long when you entered the kitchen for breakfast.

you detested that look.

you hated that he could see through the cracks, but you didn't want to speak up.

so you didn't.

instead, you concentrated on the people who didn't ask the questions▰like sloane.

sloane, who always had a way of seeing things without mentioning them.

she was quiet in her noticing.

but she could sense the tension, & she was there when you needed her most.

you were sitting at the kitchen counter, doing your best to ignore the glaring emptiness in your chest, when sloane came over, sitting beside you, her hand casually brushing yours.

you didn’t flinch.

you didn’t pull away.

but it was comforting.

it was sloane.

“you okay?” she asked quietly.

you swallowed.

“yeah. i’m fine.”

sloane didn’t buy it.

& she didn’t press either.

she simply left her hand hovering close to yours, a gentle pull, a comfort that didn't demand anything back.

it was in these small moments that you felt the cracks in your heart start to mend▰slowly, agonizingly, but they mended.

but even the tiniest crack won't go undetected.

not when lia's around.

the instant you walked into the room, lia raised an eyebrow.

you attempted to escape her stare, but she saw you anyway.

she rose to her feet, approaching you, her expression impossible to read.

"tell me," she told you, voice soft but slicing all at the same time. "what happened?"

you stalled.

you knew she knew.

you just didn't know what to say.

"nothing's wrong," you grumbled, attempting to brush it off, but lia was not accepting anything.

"nothing?" she repeated, folding her arms. "then why do you look like someone stole your soul?"

you bit your lip.

you couldn't lie to her, not like this. "we fought," you said, voice strained. "that's all."

lia's expression softened, but her frown grew deeper.

"about what?" she asked. you shook your head, already knowing what would happen if you told her.

she knows. you were upset at first. but you knew it's not her fault for knowing.

she didn't need to know everything. "it's just. it's complicated." lia looked at you for a long time.

& for a moment, you'd hoped maybe she'd let it drop.

but no.

lia wasn't the kind of girl to let something go.

particularly when it involved you.

"so. he hurt you," she stated, not a question, but fact.

you bristled, heart skipping a beat in your chest.

you couldn't meet her gaze. because pergaps she wasn't wrong.

"no," you asserted hastily, shaking your head. "not like that."

but lia could see right through you.

she always had. she moved a little closer, voice low & guarded.

"i won't help you unless you tell me."

you groaned.

"i'm not hiding anything. i just. i don't know how to put this into words. i just need space."

lia gazed at you for a moment, & you could see her considering her words.

then she just said, "just don't push him away. whatever it is, it's not worth losing him over." you nodded, feeling the heaviness of her words hit you.

you didn't want to lose him. but you didn't want to hurt him either.

you and michael were moving around like strangers.beyes not meeting. words few and far between. but it wasn't easy to forget. not when you shared a house full of people who noticed everything.

at dinner one evening, judd sat beside you, observing you with his characteristic silent watchfulness.

you were fiddling with your food, shoving it round your plate, hardly eating it. he didn't tell you what was the matter, but you could sense him looking at you▰like he was waiting for you to talk. & at last he spoke.

"you have to talk to him," judd said, his tone as quiet as ever. he doesn't know what happened. & he won't ask.

you shook your head hastily.

you're not even surprised that he knows.

"i can't."

"why?" he asked.

you bit your lip, not meeting his eyes.

"because i don't know how. because everything's all screwed up, and i'm. i'm afraid. i'm afraid that whatever this is, it's gonna ruin everything we have." judd sighed, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

"you've been through worse, kid. you know that, right?" you glanced at him.

which is correct. you not being a natural doesn't excuse what you've been through. scarlett hawkins. lacey locke. your past.

when scarlett died, judd knew he wasn't the only one struggling.

yes, he had lost a daughter, & you have lost a sister. not by blood. & blood wasn't a necessity for scarlett when it came to you.

briggs making the program was what saved the both of you. dean saved the both of you. not just dean. he saved veronica sterling.

"yeah, but. this feels different."

"of course it does," he whispered. "but you can't keep running from him. you have to figure this out."

you were quiet for a long time, taking in his words.

he was right.

you couldn't just hide from him forever.

you had to confront him. just… when?

it was late when michael appeared in your room that night.

the door creaked quietly as he pushed it open, & you looked up from where you sat at the window. you didn't say anything at first. didn't know what to say. he didn't wait for an invitation.

just walked in and shut the door behind him, standing beside it for a moment. "can we talk?" he asked, voice low.

you nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek.

michael leaned against the edge of your bed, a couple of feet from you.

you remained by the window, uncertain if you should approach.

the tension between you was thick once more.

both of you being so cautious, as if anything wrong would break it all. "i'm sorry," he broke the silence.

his voice low, too quiet. "i know i messed up. i didn't mean to hurt you. i just. i didn't want you to know. i didn't want you to see me like that." you at last turned to look at him.

"but you lied. you kept things from me, michael." he nodded, downcast eyes.

"i know. & i'm sorry. i just. i didn't think you could handle it."

"you don't get to decide that," you breathed, moving in close to him.

"you can't shut me out like that."

he stared up at you, his face filled with regret.

"i know. i messed up." you sat beside him, the gap between you still too great.

but you couldn't help it. you were afraid.

"i'm just angry," you confessed quietly. "i'm angry that you didn't trust me enough to share. i'm angry that you think i can't handle it. but i don't despise you, michael. i could never despise you."

his hand crawled out, touching your fingers softly.

you did not jerk away. you let him.

"i know i've been stupid," he declared. "but i never had any intention to hurt you. i just. i'm just so used to facing it all alone. i don't even know how to ask for things to be easier."

you took a jerky breath, eyes dropping from yours to fall upon your other hand, still clenching his.

"i'm sorry," you explained, voice shaky.

"i'm probably being selfish. i just. i just need to know you're okay. i don't want to keep pretending like everything's fine when you're falling apart." he shook his head softly.

"you're not being selfish. i'm just stupid for not seeing how much you care." you paused for a moment, gazing at him.

"are you okay?" he closed his eyes, tightening his grip on your hand.

"yeah. i'm getting there."

"it's okay," you whispered softly, reaching up to brush his cheek.

"it's okay to not be okay."byou overanalyzed every little touch, making sure not to hurt him.

but michael drew you in, holding you tight, his head against yours. "stop overthinking it," he whispered. "you're not hurting me. you never will."

& for the first time in days, you felt the tension finally release.the evening following your conversation with michael, things were quieter, more gentle. the air between you two wasn't as stifling, but it wasn't completely healed either. nonetheless, there was a shift.

the house was quiet that evening. everyone was in bed or otherwise occupied, leaving you & michael alone in the living room. the gentle hum of the fridge & the muffled sounds of traffic somewhere outside were the only things disrupting the silence.

michael sat on the couch, the same spot where you’d spent so many nights together. this time, though, it was different. there was no tension, no walls between you. just a quiet, comfortable silence.

you sat at the edge of the couch, uncertain at first, not wanting to know what to do after all that happened. you did not want to intrude upon him, did not want to make matters worse by pushing his limits.

but michael, as ever, appeared to be reading you like an open book. without uttering a word, he eased slightly to the side, opening up space for you to sit beside him. his eyes were warm, the slightest suggestion of a smile pulling at his mouth, as if he was promising you something.

"come here," he breathed softly, his voice gruff but gentle.

you bit your lip, nervousness rising up in your chest. "are you sure?" you asked softly, still not knowing if your touch would hurt him.

he smiled at you, the kind of smile that was only for you, & nodded. "yeah, i'm sure. you're not gonna hurt me, y'know."

you paused for another second, then slowly walked towards him. as you sat beside him, his arm fell naturally across your shoulders, drawing you closer.

but you tensed slightly, still overthinking every little thing, every small touch. you weren't accustomed to feeling so guarded, so attuned to everything.

"i don't want to hurt you," you breathed, voice so soft it was barely audible. "i'm just. i don't know how to do this without hurting you more."

michael smiled gently, the warmth of the sound enveloping you like a blanket. "you're not going to hurt me, angel. you're not.”

he tugged you a little nearer, & this time you let yourself slip into his side. being close to him felt so normal, so comfortable, that you couldn't help relaxing slightly, allowing your head to lean on his shoulder.

"i just▰" you'd begun, but michael interrupted, raising his hand to tilt your chin up carefully so that you were facing him. his eyes were so soft, so knowing. as though he could penetrate right through your fears.

"it's all right," he whispered. "i know that you're being careful. but you're not going to break me, you know that?"

you nodded, but the knot in your chest did not completely dissipate. you still wished to ensure that you were not doing anything wrong, even in a momeent such as this, when all you wished for was to feel close to him.

michael appeared to sense the restlessness still present within you, & his hand softly cupped your cheek. "hey," he whispered, "if you're not comfortable with anything, you can let me know, okay?"

you smiled softly, grateful for his patience. “i’m okay now. just. just scared of hurting you.”

he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “you’re not going to. just trust me.”

you blinked your eyes shut for a second, allowing the heat of his hand seep into your skin, & gradually, all your tension dissolved. you felt the calm rhythm of his breathing, the way his pulse beat in sync with yours in perfect harmony.

"i'm sorry i was acting weird earlier," you mumbled, voice hardly above a whisper.

"don't apologize," he told you, his thumb making little circles on the back of your hand. "you've got nothing to be sorry for."

he was right, but the guilt still hung in your chest. you couldn't help it. you cared too much. you just wanted to protect him, even when he wasn't asking for it.

you moved closer, not bothering to be cautious anymore. the way his arms were wrapped around you was stabilizing, like

"thank you for not giving up on me," you whispered, your fingers tracing across his arm. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

michael pulled you nearer, his arms tightening around you in a warm grasp. "don't worry about that. i'm never leaving, angel. you're stuck with me." he doesn't know what he'd do without you either.

you smiled quietly, running your fingers over & over his chest in gentle, soothing patterns. "good," you breathed. "i think i prefer to be stuck with you."

he leaned down, his lips brushing the top of your head as he sighed contentedly. “same here.”

you stayed like that for a while, just existing in the quiet, the soft rhythm of each other’s breathing the only sound that mattered. there was no rush. no pressure. just the warmth of his body, the comfort of his presence.

soon, michael moved a little, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch & draping it over both of you. his hand migrated to your waist, & he pulled you in closer, as if too close did not exist when it came to the two of you.

"you know," he mused softly, now teasing, "you're the cuddling champ."

you smiled softly, rolling your eyes. "oh, really? is that so?"

"yeah," he said, his fingers running along your side in that special way that always made you shiver. "if i had a dollar for every time i thought about how perfect it feels when you're in my arms, i'd be rich." well, he already is. but you know what he means.

you smiled, your heart filling with love. "you're cheesy, you know that?"

"perhaps," he grinned, "but you adore it."

"perhaps i do," you confessed, the tension in your chest melting away now entirely. "just a little."

he leaned against you, the sly grin on his face as his lips whispered against yours in a soft kiss. "just a little?"

you smiled against his lips, the sense of his warmth spreading through you like the gentlest kind of comfort. "okay, perhaps a great deal."

"that's what i thought," he whispered, kissing you again, this time deeper, slower. like he was tasting the moment, like he was ensuring you both knew this was real, this was something you were going to cling to.

you smiled & leaned back a little, your forehead against his. "you know," you whispered, barely above a sound, "if i could spend every night like this, i'd be happy."

"me too," he said, his fingers running through your hair, drawing you back into his arms. "me too."

the gentle glow of the tv danced around the room, illuminating soft shadows on the couch where you & michael were snuggled together. all was calm, so calm that you nearly forgot the world existed outside of this moment. the soothing sound of his breathing & the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat against your ear made everything seem right.

until, of course, you heard the distant sound of footsteps from the hallway.

you blinked, the serene moment interrupted. michael must've heard it too because his body stiffened slightly, his hand reaching out to lightly rest on your back as he turned his head towards the door.

there was a gentle tap before the door groaned open, & there, in the doorway, was sloane. her dark eyes were opened wide in a mixture of sleep & curiosity, & she rubbed her eyes as if by accident.

you blinked in shock, but a gentle smile curled your mouth. "hey, sloane," you whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful moment. "what's going on? why are you up so late?"

sloane shifted her weight, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. "i. um. i couldn't sleep. i was just. thinking about things," she stammered, her voice still heavy with sleep.

you raised an eyebrow, worry flashing in your chest. sloane wasn't typically one to struggle to sleep, & when she did, it was typically because something was wrong. you could tell she was holding something back, not wanting to confess why she was actually awake.

"sloane," you said quietly, your tone full of love, "you know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

she paused for a moment, but then nodded slowly, although she still did not look entirely at ease. "yeah. i just. i don't know. sometimes it's just hard to sleep."

you knew there was something more to it, but you didn't push her. instead, you shifted slightly on the couch & gestured to the space beside you. "come here, lovely. let's talk."

sloane didn't budge immediately, but after a moment, she crept over, crawling onto the couch next to you. you put an arm around her, drawing her into a hug. the hug was nearly motherly, & it came so instinctively to you that it was like second nature.

michael moved a bit, but he didn't look uncomfortable. he knew the relationship you had with sloane, just like he knew the relationship you shared with everyone at the house. you weren't just a friend to them▰you were like their secret garden, the one they could rely on.

"hey," you murmured softly to sloane, "you know you're not pestering me, right? if something's troubling you, tell me. we'll sort this out."

sloane let out a deep sigh & leaned against your shoulder, wrapped in your embrace. "i know. i just. i don't want to intrude on you & michael. you two look like you're snug as a pair of bugs.

you chuckled, gently stroking her hair. “don’t worry about us. you’re never a bother. but you should probably head back to your room, huh?”

sloane looked up at you with a small frown. “i don’t want to sleep alone.”

you smiled softly at that, the protective instinct inside of you flaring. “you’re not alone, sloane. you’ve got cassie, remember? she’s in the room with you.”

“yeah,” sloane muttered, “but she’s already asleep.”

you smiled softly & glanced at michael. he nodded slightly, understandingly, his hand on your back as if he were giving his silent approval to the moment. "how about this," you told sloane, "you go to your room, & i'll escort you there. if you're still upset, we can discuss it tomorrow, okay?"

sloane paused, but then nodded. "okay." she murmured.

you got up, still holding sloane gently by the shoulders, & began to lead her towards the door. when you reached it, you turned back to her. "sloane, it's all right to be vulnerable sometimes. you don't have to keep that from me. okay?"

sloane's face relaxed, & she smiled at you weakly. "yeah. i guess so."

you smiled back, hugging her quickly before she turned to go towards her room. "get some sleep, s," you whispered. "i'll check on you in a bit."

she nodded, a bit more at ease now as she headed toward her room. "goodnight, you two," she said softly, just before heading down the hall.

you faced back toward the couch, your heart feeling a bit lighter now that sloane was at least going back to her room. you headed back to michael, who had waited patiently for you to finish soothing her.

he looked at you as you came back to sit at his side, a warm smile on his face. "everything alright with her?”

"yeah, just. a bit disturbed," you told him, getting back into your seat beside him. "but she's going back to her room now."

michael nodded, his arm instinctively coming around you as you leaned back against him. the heat between the two of you still lingered, constant &,,, unchanging even after all that had occurred.

"you're good at this," he murmured, his lips feathering across the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. "good at taking care of everyone."

you smiled up at him, your heart filling with his words. "well, i am their emergency contact, so,, it's easy." you whispered. "but. it's not always easy, is it?"

he sighed, wrapping you closer so that you were snuggled under his arm. "no. it's not. but i'm glad you're here with me."

you curled into his chest, the beat of his heart calm you like a lullaby. "me too. i don't think i could do it without you."

there was silence for a moment, and then michael kissed your forehead, the touch so soft that you hardly felt it. but you did, and you dissolved into it, sensing the gentleness in the way he wrapped his arms around you.

"you're not doing it for them, though," he whispered, his voice low & seductive. "you're doing it for yourself too. & that's what makes you unique."

you gazed up at him, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "you're cheesy, you know that?"

"you adore it," he smiled, his fingers stroking along your jawline.

you smiled & drew him into a kiss, slow & deep. michael kissed you right back, his lips against yours like he couldn't get enough of you. the kiss was sweet at first, but then it deepened, becoming more desperate, more urgent. your hands wandered to his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you drew him in closer, desperate to feel the connection between you two, to drown out everything else in the world.

when you finally broke away, gasping, you gazed up at him, your vision misty with love.

"more?" he whispered, his voice a little hoarse.

you nodded, your forehead pressed against his. "always.

© MINORLYATFAULT 2025

Can i pls request some face sitting headcanons for bllk guys? Specifically Sae, Rin, Shido, Oliver and Bachira solely because i think they're the nastiest 😆🫣 thank God!

𝐒𝐈𝐓.

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ face sitting with blue lock boys! ~

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐒𝐀𝐄 & 𝐑𝐈𝐍. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔. 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑. 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀.

cw — gn!reader. afab!reader. so much oral sex. edging. overstimulation. spanking. spitting. squirting. full on tongue fucking. denied orgasms. pervy behavior. shidou being an animal.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : FUCK—this too me way too long to finish, but here it is! apologies nonnie for taking forever ;-;

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

slow n steady always wins the race. a motto sae keeps firm when it comes to sex, no matter what he’s doing. when it comes to oral though..god. the agonizing drag of his tongue while he holds you by your hips, moving them against his mouth as he kissed your sensative clit before prodding his tongue against your hole. everytime you try to speed up your pace, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and waist to keep you in your place. he might as well be edging the fuck out of you until you finally feel the knot snap in two and gush all over your boyfriend’s mouth. sae, bedroom eyes and all, would admire your fucked out face and trembling body before flipping you onto your back and continuing where he left off. safe to say, you aren’t getting out of his grip until you squirted every last drop.

“s-sae..quit being a tease..” you stuttered, trying your hardest not to buck your hips. if it wasn’t for sae’s strength, you would’ve gone wild and full on rode his face like a madman. his whole arms wrapped around your thighs, gripping tighter then usual while he switched from your clit to your sensitive pussy. sae’s sharp, jade eyes staring up at yours. his pupils were blown with a burning desire all too clear to you, as if his tongue movements didn’t say enough. god, he was a patient one and it was getting on your last nerves. a thought he promptly smacked you out of with a simple strike to the ass.

“paitience, darling. or i’ll leave you like this, i can’t stand whiny whores who get greedy.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

rin is more needier then his older brother, encouraging your carnal desires and egging you on as you rode his face as fast n hard as you please. the guy was basically making out with your cunt, open mouthed kisses and his tongue prying through your pussy had you gripping on the headboards or his hair. his hands roamed your body as he pleased, tracing his fingers against your stomach up to your sensitive nipples where he pinched and squeezed between his fingertips. don't think he'll stop either! long after you squirt all over his mouth, he'll only pull away just to take one long look at your fucked out face before he dives right back in again. rin gets pussydrunk a bit too easily, but why complain?

“rin..m-more, please..! i need more!” you begged and pleaded with a whine ripped straight from the jugular as you grinding your pussy against your boyfriend’s mouth. rin cracked open his eyes, through the blurred chaos, he admired your fucked out expression as you clung onto the wooden headboard for dear fuckin’ life. it was all too addictive to simple get off, how desperate and downright pussydrunk this man was, it’d be too cruel to pull away now! your thought process only strengthened when rin began to tug away at your sensative and soaked nipples from when he was mouthing at them earlier. he simply couldn’t get enough.

“stay with me..please, fuck! jus’ a little more, you can do that for me? please..?”

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

so much of a sloppy eater, it’s downright disgusting. shidou’s hands are unpredictable, switching from caressing and squishing the soft flesh of your ass to swatting away at it with quick strikes. don’t get me started on his oral anticts. this man is fucking eating away at your poor pussy, flicking his tongue against your sore clit while suckin’ n kissing at your abused hole. you couldn’t even move your hips with how much he’d just forced you down onto his mouth again, thus you had to sit there and simply take what he gives you, and god, the noises. besides your own moans and sobs for him to slow down, shidou’s downright animalistic growls and groans fill your ears and go straight into your cunt. don’t think he’s done either after you squirt into his mouth, oh no no! he’ll only push you onto your back with the hopes of you crushing his head with your thighs. he can’t get enough of you.

“haah..ah..r-ryu..” was all you could mutter out of your sore throat. after much whining and sobbing from the overstimulation, you could only make small noises of pleasure while shidou ate away like a man on death row. lapping up the remains of your last orgasm, he pried and pried at your hole until you swore he was tongue fucking you. grabbing fist fulls of his blonde hair only fueled the maniac to fuckin’ nip at your clit, an action that forced another intense orgasm out of your abused cunny and soaked his face even more then before. you could feel a smirk form of his lips before he landed a barrage of sharp slaps onto the flesh of your ass, dragging you out of your euphoric afterglow in time to feel his tongue pushing itself back in.

“c’mon sugar, don’t lose me now! we’re just getting started..! now, keep those pretty legs open..”

₊˚ෆ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

mister aiku here pays attention to both puss and ass with glee. when he told you to sit on his face, he meant it. there's nowhere that his mouth didn't touch, meaning you couldn't run from this man either. similar to shidou, he eats like a starved animal in front of a piece of meat. fingers pumping you full while he pays special attention to your poor clit with the occasional nips that would have you mewling and whining like a bitch in heat. but sadly, he's a greedy bastard when it comes to sex, pulling away right before you could have you sweet orgasm. heterochrome eyes staring daggers at your fucked out face while you pleaded for him to let you cum. you were almost in tears when oliver finally stuffed your twitching cunt with his fingers once again and went to town on your clit again. did i mention he pays attention to ass? that poor thing was covered in handprints and crecent shaped dents from how hard he was grabbing it. maybe, even a little bite mark for good measure.

“oliverrrr!” you whined out. "let me cum already! pleasee!" through tears, you could still see that bastard's shit eating grin. he was fucking enjoying this, getting off at your desperation while you bucked your hips at nothing. down there, oliver was enjoying the show he put together for himself and himself alone. his thumb ghosting over your neglected clit, his eyes flicking up to your own, pleading ones. you looked like a kicked puppy who didn’t get it’s owner’s attention, just like how oliver liked you. a shit eating grin stretched across his lips as he promptly gave your ass a hard slap before finger fucking your cunny at a furious pace. the noises it made sounded straight out of a porno as the pro player flicked his tongue around your clitty. it was all too much to handle at once, or so you claimed. you knew damn well oliver could see right through your teary eyes, and sniff out your disgusting, whorish fantasy.

“keep cryin’ like that and i’ll stop again, you hear me? i know you can pretty thing..i fuckin’ know you can.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

what a pervert, a proud one at that too! he couldn’t keep his grabby hands to himself all day, something the grew more and more dangerously obvious as the day went on. sneaky hands up your skirt or down your pants, gentle squeezes on your inner thighs inching too close to your wet cunt. the final straw was when you caught him trying to look up your skirt/down your loose pants. dragging him all the way home where he couldn’t even wait to get to the bed and pushed you against the wall, kneeling in front of you while patting his cheek eagerly. clinging onto whatever door frame or counter was nearby as bachira pressed open mouthed, tongue heavy kisses against your spread pussy. he was a messy eater as well, going as far as to even spit on your cunny before diving back in with the intention of drowning in your juices. bachira was full on obsessed. nothing could tear him away from your cunny, no matter how hard you yanked his hair or tried to push his head away. he’ll always come back for more!

“o-oh god..bachira, baby..!” you sighed, clasping a hand over your mouth in a feeble attempt to not alarm the neighbors. bachira quickly noticed and yanked your hand away, staring up at you with the same crazed look he had all day. he didn’t tear his eyes off of you, forcing to maintain eye contact with him as he licked and macked with your ruined cunt. your knees felt weaker and weaker, probably because of the last orgasms your monster of a boyfriend gave you, yet he just refuses to quit! not the stinging pain of you gripping his hair or even your efforts to straight up push him away so he doesn’t suffocate to death in your pussy. bachira, in retaliation, forced your wrists against the wall and gives your cunt a mean spat. you flinched in shock, watching as he simply goes back to eating you out like a madman. fuck, thank god you made it home in time.

“don’t shy away from me! i’m only getting started, my love..don’t you want me to please you? hm?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

can you ask a nagi version of the bachira “no way he pulled that” !! thank you sooomuch

Absolutely!!! And npp!!

Also shoutout to the other people asking for a Nagi version in my requests-you've got taste.

And not to be dramatic, but I love how literally all my current requests revolve around this "No Way He Pulled That" beach idea. Like yeah, I made that concept while pacing around my room, headphones on, blasting my saved TikToks and imagining the wildest daydream ever. I was fully in my own world and now it's lowkey becoming a whole saga.

No Way He Pulled That Pt.5

Ego had declared a rare break from the brutal training sessions of Blue Lock—a full beach day, no drills, no strategy talks, no footballs (unless you brought one yourself). Just the sun, the sea, and your fellow egocentric maniacs trying to figure out how to relax without turning everything into a competition.

Nagi arrived last, of course. Board shorts hanging off one hip, hair messier than usual, a towel draped over his head like a cloak. He made it exactly ten steps before collapsing under the nearest palm tree with a soft groan and his signature phrase:

"Too much effort…"

No one paid much attention to him—because no one ever believed a word that came out of his mouth. Especially not when it came to the mystical, possibly imaginary girlfriend he always mumbled about.

"She's real," Nagi had said one night, mouth full of instant ramen. "Really pretty. Soft, too"

“Is she your body pillow?” Isagi asked, deadpan.

"...No"

Reo had stopped believing months ago. Rin never believed to begin with. And Bachira? He was convinced Nagi had made her up after watching too many romance animes while half-asleep.

But then the beach volleyball game started. And that’s when everything changed.

A group of players had set up a net near the far edge of the shore, and laughter rang out as the match heated up. But one particular sound cut through the air like a melody.

Your laugh.

It was light, breezy, warm like honeyed sunlight—too charming to ignore.

Someone spiked the ball too hard. It shot over the net and landed dangerously close to the lazy white-haired boy under the palm tree.

You chased after it, completely unaware of the dozen Blue Lock boys who had just stopped whatever they were doing to stare at you.

And how could they not?

You were a vision—skin kissed by the sun, hair tossed in a high ponytail with strands flying free, your swim top peeking through a loose-knit tank, shorts that hugged your curves, legs dusted with sand. You radiated sweetness, like something out of a summer dream. A soft energy that clashed entirely with the high-strung testosterone-choked beach.

Reo dropped his smoothie.

Chigiri blinked like he was buffering.

Rin narrowed his eyes, confused and slightly annoyed by the way the sun hit your smile so perfectly.

You bent to grab the ball, tucking it under your arm. When you glanced toward Nagi, your entire face lit up.

"Sei!" you called, practically bouncing as you jogged toward him.

The boys followed your gaze like it was a horror movie reveal.

And Nagi?

He looked up, blinked twice, then broke into the laziest but fondest little grin.

"Hey. You're here" he said, voice low and soft, like you were the only thing in his world.

You reached him, tossed the ball aside, and flopped onto the sand next to him, curling up like it was your usual spot. Then, casually, you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"Missed you" you said sweetly.

Silence.

Crickets.

Barou’s eye twitched. Otoya took off his sunglasses like he needed to confirm reality. Karasu mouthed "WHAT THE—"

Rin’s glare was sharp enough to slice metal. Bachira looked like he’d just discovered aliens were real.

:Waitwaitwaitwait," Isagi stammered. "That’s her?! That’s the girlfriend?"

Reo nearly combusted. "No way he pulled that. No—no way"

"You said she plays Animal Crossing!" Chigiri accused.

"She does," Nagi replied, already resting his head on your lap.

You?

You just smiled, oblivious to the mayhem behind you, fingers carding lazily through his hair as you fed him slices of cold watermelon from your cooler.

"God, she’s nurturing him," Reo whispered, devastated.

"Like a sea goddess nursing a shipwreck survivor" Karasu added mournfully.

Rin stood, muttered something about touching grass, and walked directly into the ocean.

Nagi yawned, totally unaffected. "Told you she was real"

Hiii, first of all i want to say that your writing is sooo good.like you're literally my fave author in this app and I love how you characterize the bl boys. Anyways can I request blue lock guys with a single mom reader and how the guys react to the fact that she's a single mom(maybe the father left reader when she got pregnant or you can write whatever scenario you want regarding the bio father) and their interaction with reader's child. If you could, pls include isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin and sae.

Also take care and have a great day<333

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩”

a/n: OMG TYSM??? AAA THAT IS SO SWEET! take care and have a great day as well you pretty soul ❤️

i love the domestic fluff behind this request + reader def has another kid with them after

ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae

isagi yoichi

he’s surprised at first, but not in a bad way, just wide-eyed, taking it all in. 

“you’re a mom?” he blinks. “like… a real one? like… diapers and everything?” 

once he processes it, he’s all in. 

isagi grew up with supportive parents, so he has a lot of respect for the strength it takes to raise a kid alone. 

if you tell him the father walked out on you, he gets super serious, quiet and tense in a way you haven’t seen before. 

“you don’t have to tell me everything now, but if he ever tries to come back, you let me deal with him.” and the way he says it? dead serious. 

when he meets your kid for the first time, he brings a little soccer ball and awkwardly crouches down like he’s meeting royalty. 

“hi! i’m… yoichi. i kick balls for a living.” 

you: “okay let’s… rephrase that.” 

but it works. he’s silly, energetic, and so patient – your kid absolutely adores him. 

he’ll start doing commentary while the kid’s eating cereal, like it’s a world cup final. 

“AND HE SCORES THE LAST FROOT LOOP! WHAT A LEGEND!” 

you catch him googling “how to be a good stepdad” at 3 AM. you don’t bring it up. but you definitely screenshot it. 

bachira meguru

bachira lights up when you tell him. 

“you have a little gremlin too?!” 

he’s thrilled. he doesn’t ask anything about the father unless you bring it up. he’s more focused on how he can be a fun and loving person in your child’s life. 

he sees your kid and immediately goes “wanna see my monster voice?” and makes the weirdest, funniest noise ever. 

the two of them are chaotic together. 

you walk into the living room and there’s glitter everywhere, paper hats on both of them, and he’s letting your kid draw a mustache on his face. 

“we’re pirates now,” bachira says, completely serious. “you have to pay the glitter tax.” 

when your kid calls him “meguru,” he beams. when they accidentally call him “dad” one day? he tears up a little. 

you: “you okay?” 

him, teary-eyed: “i would die for that child.” 

also probably teaches your kid to climb furniture and you have to ban them from the couch for a week. 

nagi seishiro

“oh,” he says when you tell him, blinking slowly. “that’s kinda cool.” 

nagi doesn’t react big. he just accepts it immediately, like it’s just another part of you. 

but inside? he’s kind of in awe. like you raised a tiny human? by yourself? sounds exhausting. 

“you must be really strong,” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. 

he’s surprisingly good with kids. laid-back, unbothered, and doesn’t treat them like they’re fragile. 

your child is obsessed with sitting on his shoulders while he walks around the apartment like a lazy giraffe. 

he lets them play games on his phone, and one time they accidentally deleted a rare gacha pull. he just shrugged. 

“they’re more fun to hang out with than reo.” 

he naps with them on the couch and sleeps through them using his hair as a blanket. 

he gets attached without even noticing. one day he buys a switch for them and says it’s “because they’re annoying when they’re bored” but you find it in his shopping history under “gift for my mini me.” 

itoshi rin

freezes when you tell him. 

absolutely panics inside but tries to stay stoic. 

“oh. okay. i see.” (he doesn’t see anything. his brain is buffering.) 

but once he calms down, he starts asking thoughtful, gentle questions. 

“what do they like to eat?” 

“do they know their father?” 

“are you… okay?” 

when you explain your ex bailed after the pregnancy, he clenches his jaw and gets really quiet. 

he just nods and says, “that’s not your fault. he’s pathetic.” 

rin’s not the best with kids at first. he’s awkward, stiff, stands like a statue, but he’s trying so hard. 

your kid hands him a toy and rin just… holds it. like it’s a grenade. 

“do i… do i play with it?” 

but one afternoon, your kid falls asleep on his lap and something in him just softens. 

from then on, he’s all in. buys extra snacks for them, watches their shows even if he doesn’t get them. 

“this blue dog… why is he emotional?” 

“it’s bluey, rin. let it happen.” 

itoshi sae

you expect him to be judgmental. he’s not. at all. 

he hears “i’m a single mom” and just says “okay.” 

“you’re still hot. and you’re a good mom. sounds like a win to me.” 

he doesn’t ask about the father unless you bring it up. when you do, he’s indifferent on the outside, but furious on the inside. 

“he left? while you were pregnant?” 

you nod. 

he just hums and says, “if he shows up, tell him to meet me. i’ll ruin his life.” 

when he meets your kid, he keeps his usual cool attitude, but your child’s the only one who gets to see him smile freely. 

your kid: “can you make silly faces?” 

sae: “no.” 

also sae, five seconds later: pulling the most cursed expression you’ve ever seen. 

he buys expensive stuff for your kid without blinking – custom sneakers, private tutors, limited edition toys. 

“i like spoiling them. deal with it.” 

you catch him once, watching your kid sleep while he absentmindedly brushes their hair out of their face. 

he looks at you and says, “this is the only family i’ve ever actually wanted.” 

yeah. you cry. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

i’m so lonely it’s not even funny bye 😞

i like you, i do, from vi

ᰔ pairing . . . m. townsend !

ᰔ in which . . vi shows you random chats between the emotion reader & his partner

ᰔ . . . michael townsend + bf texts !

ᰔ category . . . fluff , smau , requested!

ᰔ tags . . . emotionally unreadable but secretly soft. sarcastic flirting. established relationship. smug boyfriend lol. reader being done™ but smitten. cereal is not soup discourse. emotionally intelligent teasing. chaotic texting. “shut up” means “i love you”. michael knows your tells. flustered!reader agenda. late-night banter. slowburn energy but post-burn. michael being annoying in love. use of "and" because "&" did not look good.

ᰔ look around . . . m. list && the naturals m. list

────── vi whispers . . . ᰔ

001. i only made four bc it's three in the morning rn💔💔

002. the naturals girlies... wake up... your uh. idk. mommy is back

003. tbh lercyswlrd is the mom

004. but let's pretend it's me..

005. im sorry for leaving y'all... i bought wine..

© MINORLYATFAULT 2025

woah woah woah this is so so good ml !!!!!!

PIPILIIN KA.. SA ARAW-ARAW!

m. townsend x f!reader

𝓢ynopsis: he'd choose you every day. he'd choose you so much he couldn't care less about the day to celebrate his birth.

𝓦arnings: grammatical errors. ooc(?). reader wears earrings. flirty!reader. drunk!reader. whipped!michael.

𝓝otes:

001. second part of thiissss!!

002. don't ask me ab how they arrived at the bar. there's a car. js imagine michael didn't know even tho he ws the one driving. oh & they parked it in a parking area where they still need to ealkto the bar lmdaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaoaooa

003. I HAVE NO IDEA HOW A BAR WORKS IM SORRY

004. there might be a p3z,idkdkidk

005. lets..... ignore the part in all in the casino,,,,, heehheeeee,,,, ws drinking(??? im pretty sure??? or ws it lia.. short-term memory 💔)

006. OHOH, & this shows what happened before he found you next to him, still asleep btw (like,,, the ending of p1)

michael wasn't even sure how it happened. one minute, you were changing into your dry clothes, the next thing he was being dragged through the darkened streets by you, your fingers digging into his wrist like you had a purpose. & now, here you guys are. you were in front of a bar, a wicked grin spreading across your face.

"this is a bad idea," he grumbled, but you only laughed, already pulling him in.

"hey, now, townsend. live a little."

getting in would have been impossible, but you had a plan. a thoughtful one, a worryingly thought through plan. you whipped out a fake id like you'd done it a thousand times(you made sloane make you one.), the bouncer hardly giving it a second look before nodding you past. michael only sent you a sigh.

inside, the music was deafening, the lights were low, & it reeked of booze & poor choices. you made straight for the bar, ordering drinks before michael could object.

"you know we shouldn't be drinking, right?" he asked, observing as you raised the glass to your lips.

"you worry too much." you leaned in close, mouth inches from his ear. "loosen up, birthday boy."

& and that's how he found himself here, in a booth together, with you sprawled over him, laughing like you'd just heard the world's greatest joke.

"you're sooo cute," you state, poking his cheek. "like, really, really cute. like▰if i didn't know you, i'd totally hit on you."

michael gulped, his ears reddening. "you do know me."

"i knooow," you drew the word out, your head rocking back in laughter. "& i did hit on you. worked out pretty well, huh?"

his heart was racing a mile a minute. he was used to your flirting, but not this way. not when your lips were so close, your body pushed up against his as if you never wanted to budge.

"you're drunk," he tells you, even as his hands settle into your waist, holding you up when you almost stumble over.

"so?" you pouted, running a finger down his chest. "doesn't mean i don't mean it. you're hot, townsend. stupidly hot."

michael groaned, leaning his head back against the booth. "you're gonna be the death of me."

"hmmm." you tilted your head, weighing. "nah. you're too tough for that." then, out of nowhere, you reached up & kissed him.

michael melted instantly, hands clenching on your waist as he kissed you back, slow & deep. he tasted the alcohol on your lips, but it was more than that, taste you▰warm & familiar & so fucking intoxicating.

when you finally broke away, you were smiling, eyes glassy. "told you. best birthday ever."

he gasped sharply, forehead to yours. "you're gonna regret this in the morning."

your lips kept meeting his cheek, & his cheek kept meeting your lips. honestly, those were the only things running in his mind.

"nope," you burst the "p," still grinning. "because i love you.” kiss. “like, lots. “ kiss. “like▰oh my god, michael▰like, tons.” kiss. “you're my favorite person in the whole world." kiss. kiss. kiss. you & your dumb handsome face & your▰"

michael laughed, raking his hand through his hair. "okay, time to take you home."

getting you out of the bar was a easy. getting you to release him? not quite.

"lemme walk," you complained as he picked you up in his arms, bridal style, & swept you towards his car.

"nope. you'll trip & bring me down with you."

"but it'd be so funny," you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "admit it, townsend, you'd laugh."

michael just rolled his eyes, putting you gently in the passenger seat & buckling you in. "you're ridiculous."

"but you love me," you sang songed, kicking your feet. "you loooove me."

michael let out a sigh, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he began the car. "yeah, yeah. i do."

halfway home, you turned to him, eyes half closed but still shining. "you're my favorite, you know that?"

he looked at you, something warm in his chest. "yeah?"

"yeah," you nodded, dead serious. "like, in the whoooole world."

michael swallowed over the sudden constriction in his throat, leaning over to squeeze your hand. "you're my favorite too."

when you finally returned, he carried you in, laying you down on the bed.

"michael," you muttered, pulling on his sleeve. "too many accessories. take 'em off."

he huffed a laugh but indulged you, removing his watch, then your earrings, placing them on the nightstand with care.

"better?"

"mhmm," you sighed, eyelids drooping. "you're so good to me. i don't deserve you."

michael stroked a lock of hair from your face, his fingers impossibly gentle. "you deserve everything, sweetheart."

he kissed your forehead, tucking the blankets around you. as he settled in beside you, your hand wrapped around his, squeezing softly.

"best birthday ever." you whispered.

michael smiled against your hair. "yeah. best one yet. thank you, princess."

© minorlyatfault, 2025

—he loves her!

↪ rin is a private lover, not a secret one. but unfortunately for him, yoichi isagi still manages to figure out that his grumpy teammate has a girlfriend!

pairing: itoshi rin x fem!reader

if there was one thing all the teenage boys at blue lock were able to collectively share (besides their obsession for soccer) it would be the fact that none of them had a girlfriend. as talented as they were with soccer, their dating life wasn't exactly...on par.

at least, that's what they thought. it's late one night after practice when isagi is coming back from the showers, a towel wrapped around his hips and another thrown over his shoulders. he's yawning loudly—expecting to return to an empty room all to himself. but as he's shuffling around in the dark to find a shirt to slip into, he hears it.

the sound is soft and muffled, so quiet he almost misses it completely at first. he's not sure if his ears are playing some sort of a trick on him or what—but then he hears it again

a giggle.

albeit a little scared, isagi turns towards the direction of the sound. rin's bed is tucked into the corner of the room, and his back is facing isagi as he lays curled up under his blankets. they were draped loosely over his shoulders, and there's a dim light shining on the other side of him. isagi realizes he's on a call a second later when he hears rin speak

"i miss you."

isagi freezes, his body rigid with horror as he hears rin's tone—one he has never heard before. it was so sweet and so soft that he wondered if maybe it was someone else laying in rin's bed instead. perhaps an alien pretending to be his stoic teammate? that had to be it, right? since when did rin itoshi sound so sappy?

"i miss you too, rinnie. i still can't believe they won't let me visit you! maybe it's because they know you won't have enough space for all the gifts i want to bring you."

rin's response is quiet enough where isagi can't hear from his spot across the room—but he hears you laugh again. you have a pretty laugh, and isagi's lips twitch at the sound of it.

huh. out of all the people he deemed able to score a girlfriend, the last person he actually expected it to be was rin. the boy seemed more emotionally constipated than everyone else at blue lock combined—but you sound happy talking to him, and rin's back is relaxed from where isagi can see. curiously, he takes a step closer to rin's bed.

"soo! tell me about your new roommates! and the new guys on your team—i can't keep up with them now. anyone you like?" he hears you ask, and rin scoffs. isagi can't see rin's face, but he can imagine he's rolling his eyes. he doesn't want to admit it, but he does want to hear rin's response. praying he doesn't accidentally make a sound, isagi takes a tentative step closer to rin's bed.

"no. everyone is pissing me off—especially isagi. he has such a kickable face, y/n. you'll understand what i mean when you see him at the u-20 match." rin grumbles, and isagi doesn't even have the time to be offended by rin's words before he mistakingly perks up

"you're inviting her to the u-20 match?!"

isagi's eyes widen, and he slaps a hand over his mouth—mortified—as if he could pluck the words out of the air and quickly push them back down his throat. rin's back has gone absolutely stiff now, every muscle tensing up within a split second. he looked about a moment away from turning around before he hears your curious voice speak up

"rinnie, who is that?!" you question, and isagi can hear rin counting under his breath—a tactic he uses to calm himself down whenever shidou tries picking a fight with him—before he gently bid you goodbye.

"i have to go, y/n. i'll call you later, okay?" rin says, his voice scarily calm as you hum in response

"promise? i won't go to sleep until you do, rinnie! that bowl headed guy said i got at least an hour a day with you! who knew spamming him with so many emails a day would—"

"y/n."

"...yeah?"

"i love you. please hang up."

"...i'll be waiting patiently for your next call! please don't kill the guy who interrupted you. bye bye, rinnie!"

isagi hears the gentle ping! of the facetime call ending. rin sits up slowly from where he was once comfortably laying down, and he turns off the ipad before placing it on his bedside table. he turns to meet his teammate's gaze, and isagi swallows the lump in his throat at the sight of rin's face—holy shit he's so dead.

isagi most definitely wasn't supposed to interrupt rin's call with you—but he'd clearly intruded. honestly, he felt bad, but it was an honest mistake!

maybe it was just the sound of rin's voice that threw him off so much—isagi's never heard him talk like that. rin sounded....sad, saying he missed you. it was a moment of vulnerability for him, and the light pink dusting rin's cheekbones gave isagi a clear indicator that he was embarrassed.

"i'm going to count to five, isagi." rin says calmly, standing up slowly as isagi's eyes widen. as composed as rin was trying to appear, it looked like the vein on his forehead was about to pop with how hard he was clenching his jaw and burning a hole into isagi with nothing but his angry eyes

"h-huh?! wait—what happens when you get to five?!"

"i'm going to kill you."

"okay—if you're afraid i'm going to tell anyone about her, you're wrong! i won't, your secret's safe with me!" isagi laughs nervously, holding up his hands in surrender as rin blinks owlishly—before picking up the soccerball that had been resting idly by the foot of his bed

"i was counting to five in my head by the way."

the resounding sound of the ball bouncing off of isagi's skull and ricocheting off the walls was near comical. that night, rin doesn't try too hard to hide his ipad from isagi as he recounts the whole story for you, ignoring isagi's chirps in the background of that's not true! and how he took the soccer ball to the head like a champ!

regardless, isagi kept true to his word and kept rin's secret safe. sure, now he'd pop up behind rin every now and then in the middle of your calls, waving enthusiastically before promptly getting shoved out of frame by rin—his cameos were short lived, but pretty funny to you.

"—i'm hiding under my blankets. i wish the utensils in the cafeteria weren't plastic, otherwise i would've stabbed half the lukewarm idiots here already." rin grumbles as you laugh, watching him shuffle around in the dark

"so gory. ah, that reminds me! remember that horror game you were talking about rin-rin? right before you left? it's out! we can play together when you finish your training, okay? we can pull an all nighter on the weekend when you aren't busy—it'll be a blast!"

rin allows the smallest of smiles to grace his face. he pulls the blankets around him closer, thankful bachira had whisked away isagi for the night so he could talk to you freely once again—that idiot really liked popping into his calls, but rin managed to make a bunch more while unsuspecting isagi was out and about the facility.

"okay." rin says softly, blinking back the water building up in his eyes as he turns up the brightness of his ipad in the dark—your face shows up more clearer and brighter on the screen, and he listens to you talk about your day while you get ready for bed.

you're too busy putting on some sort of a face mask to see the hearts for eyes rin has while he watches you—he'll ruin his eyesight and gladly go blind if it means he can watch you through his screen like this. it was one of the reasons he called you on his ipad rather than his phone—so your face could be projected on a bigger screen for him to admire.

"rinnie? are you tired?"

rin yawns quietly with a nod, rubbing his eyes with a hum

"yeah. but don't hang up, we can just..."

"stay on call again?"

he nods quietly, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. he hears you shuffling around before you're all tucked into bed too. you hold your phone close to your face—and rin bites the inside of his cheek at the sight.

no one knew it, but rin had trouble falling asleep at the blue lock facility the first night he arrived. the beds weren't too his liking and he was having trouble finding his way around the hundreds of halls that surrounded him—it was a maze, and his body would be tense with unease just about all the time.

the moment he scored enough goals to get electronic privileges, he ignored the weird stares he got and opted for his ipad rather than his phone—the first night he fell asleep soundly was when he fell asleep on a facetime call with you. while it was purely accidental, it worked out for both of you—and now it was your new mini ritual until he was out of here

"night, rinnie. dream of world domination and me, 'kay?" you whisper, and rin smiles with his eyes closed

"goodnight."

isagi wanders back into the shared room an hour later, quietly kicking off his cleats and slipping into his pajamas. he's about to go to sleep when he sees the telltale sign of the dim ipad light glowing from rin's side—he'd fallen asleep on call with you. again.

with a grin, isagi taps the end call button on the dark screen and carefully plugs rin's ipad into the charger, making sure not to wake his sleeping teammate. once that's done, he crawls into his own bed on the other side of the room with a yawn.

isagi was definitely going to tease rin about this in the morning, no doubt. but...it was nice to know his teammate wasn't as heartless as he once thought.

blue lock masterlist :P

i'm here - joey lynch x reader

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

warnings: flufffffff, swearing + a lil angst

a/n: BELLE BELLE BELLE DO YOU SEE ME?? IM WRITING JOEY LYNCH FICS FOR YOU!! LOVE YOU POOKIE <33 (i've kept this surprisingly spoiler free as well!!) also pls ignore my delusional ass over here writing fics late at night-

joey lynch is a protector.

its his way of being. he's been that way all his life. constantly looking after his siblings when their parents couldn't.

so you take it upon yourself to be joey's protector - much to his disgruntlement.

so when you find the space next to you on your bed empty and cold. you know he's having nightmares again.

fighting with your very sleepy brain - which should shut up by the way - you roll out of bed, wrap a discarded blanket from your shrek movie marathon earlier and go in search for joey.

the nightmares aren't a regular thing - not anymore at least, that you are very grateful for - but when they do plague joey he falls into the downward spiral of think he's not good enough for you. which of course is absolute nonsense.

pulling the blanket tighter around you, you slip out through the balcony door and out into the crisp night where a shirtless and haunted looking joe sits with his head in his hands on a half broken chair - curtsey of the hotel you were staying in.

"hey you," you say softly approaching him. you're eyes definitely don't stray down to his bare chest... not at allllll.

joey's head snaps up, noticing you for the first time. "hey, what are you doing out here? go back to bed baby."

shaking your head you determinedly open the blanket and wrap it around him wincing at the coldness of his skin. how long has he been out here?

"nahh, if you're out here so am i."

joey already knowing that there is no point in arguing with you, stands up and picks you up bridal style, blanket and all bringing you back inside and gently places you back on your bed before closing the door again.

he busies himself fixing the duvet cover and pillows on the bed ignoring the knowing looks you're sending him.

"joe."

he looks at you. "y/n."

"do you want to talk about it?"

"no."

"joe."

he's quiet for a bit probably contemplating what he should tell you.

"it was the same one." his voice is quiet, soft. you know joey doesn't like talking about these dreams so you don't push it. "but different this time." he takes a deep breath and looks at you with resigned eyes. "i lost you. cause of the... cause of the...."

"i know," you whisper. unwrapping yourself from the blanket, rounding the bed and coming to stand in front of the broken boy in front of you.

"but hey," your eyes fill with tears as you look at the defeated look in his eyes. he really believes that it could be true. he really believes that you would- could leave him. "i'm here. and i'm not going anywhere. joe- joe look at me." when he refuses you step closer between his legs and cup his face. "joseph lynch, you look at me."

joey's pained eyes meet yours and your heart breaks for him. for the amount of shit he's been through. for all the years he had no one to turn to. now he has you, and you have every intention of making sure that joey lynch is fucking loved and cared for.

"i love you. and it would take a very very very big group of people to take me away from you- even then don't get your hopes up because believe it or not joey there is something in my soul that is connected to yours and in every life time, every life time i will find you." you press a soft kiss to his forehead. "so don't even think for one second that i'm going to leave you. you're my joey. and i don't plan on giving you up. so im sorry but you're kinda stuck with me."

joey's eyes shine with barely restrained love as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, squeezing your waist tightly.

"i love you baby," he whispers against your midriff. "so much."

running your hands through his blonde hair you press a kiss to his head, "love you too baby."

you stay that way for a while, joey wrapped tightly around you and you pressing soft kisses to his head until joey leans back taking you with him.

"joey!" you laugh toppling over on top of him.

"yes?" he hums as he adjusts you both so you're facing each other with your legs intertwined.

"nothing," you smile and press a kiss to the tip of his nose, his green eyes shining beautifully in the moonlight.

joey grins and pulls you closer by the waist pressing a soft, yearning kiss to your lips.

you both fall asleep to your hushed whispers in the dark, promises and loving kisses.

"love you baby..."

[taglist] @lxvebelle

a/n pt2: THE WAY I NEED ME SOME JOEY LYNCH IS UNFORGIVABLE sleep delusion reaaaally got to me at the end there- hope you liked it babes <33