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Summary: How the Blue Lock boys would react if you got sick!
Characters: Rin Itoshi, Isagi Yoichi, Reo Mikage, Nagi Seishiro, Barou Shoei, Bachira Meguru, Michael Kaiser
(F!/m)
Rin Itoshi
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
It happened before you could prevent it. One day, you walked home in the rain just a little too slowly—the next morning, you were bedridden.
It annoyed Rin. He had things to do, and soccer practice couldn’t wait. He’d mutter things under his breath like, “You seriously couldn’t take better care of yourself…?” Yet despite that, he’d still be standing at your bedside—holding out your medicine because, apparently, you’d “spill it if you did it yourself.”
Even if his exterior screamed that he didn’t care—that you were “too irritating” to deal with while sick—he never actually left.
He lingered quietly.
Checking your temperature while you slept, bringing you warm broth ramen—claiming it’d help you recover faster, tucking the blanket tighter around you when you shifted in your sleep…
And if you called him out on it?
He’d deny it instantly, a sharp scowl pulling at his lips—though the faint blush at the tips of his ears said more than enough.
⸻
Isagi Yoichi
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The moment Yoichi found out you were sick, he rushed to your house without a second thought—arms full of anything he thought you might need.
Isagi was incredibly attentive, taking care of you the same way his parents had taken care of him growing up. He’d gently remind you, “You need to rest so you can actually get better,” or sigh softly with, “C’mon, Y/N… you know I could’ve gotten that for you,” whenever you tried to get up on your own.
If you started feeling even a little better, he’d insist you stay in bed. “It’s better for your immune system,” he’d say…In reality, he just wanted an excuse to stay by your side a little longer.
⸻
Reo Mikage
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The moment you so much as sniffled around him, Reo was already on the phone—ordering a room to be prepared for you in one of his many spare bedrooms.
Reo cared deeply about you—arguably even more than he did Nagi—and the second he realized you were sick, he went into full action mode. To him, this was a big deal.
Everything had to be perfect.
Your foot hurt? He’d already called the best massage therapist he knew, you sneezed once too many times? Suddenly, there were multiple boxes of tissues lined neatly beside your bed, too cold? The room temperature was adjusted immediately.
He didn’t miss a thing.
Even after you recovered, Reo would continue to pamper you—partly because he didn’t want you getting sick again…
…and partly because taking care of you was something he genuinely loved doing.
⸻
Nagi Seishiro
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
If he were being honest…Nagi thought it was a hassle. He already hated putting in effort—and now you were sick?
Still…you always took care of him. So, reluctantly, he returned the favor.
Nagi would settle beside you without much complaint, lazily pulling you closer as he rested against you. “You’re warm… it’s comfortable,” he’d mumble, shifting slightly closer.
Was the boy even aware you had a fever?
Even so, if things got serious, Nagi would step up.
Slowly.
He’d bring you soup, remind you to take your medicine, and make sure you were at least somewhat comfortable before returning to his game.
Though…you didn’t need to know how often his eyes drifted back to you—quietly checking if you were okay.
⸻
Barou Shoei
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The fact that you got sick genuinely baffled him.
How? When he was this clean?
The moment your text—“I’m sick”—came through, Barou’s expression twisted into a deep scowl. He wasn’t mad at you, exactly…more like irritated at what he considered your “lack of hygiene.”
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Barou went completely overboard.
Mask? Check.
Gloves? Obviously.
Disinfectant spray? Always in hand.
It was practically a full PPE setup.
Even with his excessive precautions, Barou made sure you were properly taken care of—whether it was bringing you food, keeping your space spotless, or making sure you rested.
And even after you got better? The precautions didn’t stop. For at least a month, he stayed just as cautious, brushing it off as “standard procedure.”
Yet somehow…he always found himself lingering near you anyway
—
Meguru Bachira
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
The moment Bachira found out you were sick…he didn’t even hesitate.
He showed up. Unannounced. Uninvited. Completely unbothered. “Y/N! I heard you’re sick!” he’d chirp, already making himself comfortable in your space like he belonged there—because at least in his mind he did..
Bachira wasn’t the most organized caretaker—but he made up for it in energy. He’d sit way too close, resting his chin on your shoulder or laying half on top of you while poking your cheek. “You feel warmer than usual…” he’d hum, completely fascinated rather than concerned.
If you complained, he’d just grin.
“It’s okay, I’ll keep you company so you don’t get lonely!”
Despite his playful behavior, Bachira did take care of you—just in his own way. He’d bring you snacks…even if they weren’t always what you needed, attempt to help with your medicine, and ramble on about anything and everything to keep your mind off feeling sick.
And if you looked even a little too tired?
He’d quiet down.
Just slightly.
Resting beside you, fingers loosely intertwined with yours, he’d mumble,
“Don’t worry… I’ll stay right here.”
—
Michael Kaiser
─ ⊹ ⊱ ⊰ ⊹ ─
When Kaiser found out you were sick…he didn’t panic.
He judged.
“You got sick? How unfortunate,” he’d sigh, brushing his hair back with mild annoyance—as if your illness was an inconvenience to him.
But don’t get it twisted…He still showed up.
Kaiser wasn’t the type to fuss over you openly—but everything he did was…intentional.
Your favorite drink? Already placed beside you, medicine? Set out before you even asked, room? Suspiciously cleaner than before.
“You should feel honored,” he’d smirk, crossing his arms. “I don’t just take care of anyone like this.”
He’d sit nearby, not too close—but not far enough to ignore you either. Occasionally glancing your way, making sure you were actually resting.
If you tried to get up? A sharp click of his tongue. “Sit. You look pathetic,” he’d mutter—yet gently push you back down onto the bed anyway.
And if you dared thank him?
He’d scoff. “Don’t misunderstand. I just don’t want you getting worse.”
…Yet he never left. Not until you were fully better—and even then, he lingered just a little longer than necessary…
𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹
Author Note: Hi! I decided I wanted to try something new with the whole “mini” oneshot deal, if this does well then I’ll make more…
Requests are open if you guys have anything specific!!
i know low quality, yes, but they’re golden. adam saying "yeah" to the sex scene and britt laughing shyly. then we find out he asked the question on purpose and adam giggles. look at britt’s gaze.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
AN: This is the product of a conversation with @copper-locks about Mr. Concrete on his knees and 1,5 hour of free time. I take no responsibility... hehe. Also, if I didn't tag you and you have asked to be tagged its because I assumed that it was only for my ongoing series "Somewhere down the line"! Also not proofread because I just can't with smut. Ok thats it, hope you'll enjoy. <3
Warnings: NSFW! 18+, MDNI, hand job, masturbation (f), voyeurism, slight dom/sub dynamic (kinda switch I guess but m sub), established relationship, unprotected sex. I think that's it? It's filth, basically.
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x F! reader.
Words: 2.8 k
The party had finally started to thin out sometime after 1 AM. Music still pulsed faintly behind the closed doors of the venue as the two of you stepped out into the cool night air, the summer heat finally giving way to something easier to breathe.
“Taxi’s two minutes away,” Noah said, glancing down at his phone.
You only hummed in response. You knew exactly what you were doing. You'd known it all evening.
The dress wasn’t something you would normally wear. It hugged your figure more than what you would normally reach for, the neckline lower, the hem shorter. You had found it two days earlier when you were out shopping for the release party for a friend's album. Every time you’d caught Noah looking, only for him to immediately look somewhere else, it had sent a little thrill through you.
He’d been unusually quiet all night. Not distant. Just… tense.
The taxi pulled up to the curb and you slid into the back seat together, the driver greeting you before pulling away into the sleeping city. For the first few minutes, neither of you spoke. Streetlights flashed across the windows, illuminating Noah’s face. His jaw was tight enough that you wondered if it hurt.
“You’ve been quiet,” you said eventually, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
His eyes flicked towards you for half a second before returning to the window.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
You crossed one leg over the other, deliberately casual, smoothing a hand over the fabric of your dress. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him noticing. Just for a second. You rummaged in your little hand bag, pulling your lip gloss out. You reapplied it unnecessarily slowly.
Noah looked away again, exhaling slowly through his nose.
“…You’re making this really difficult.”
You tilted your head, pretending innocence.
“Making what difficult?”
He laughed once, it was short, quiet, almost disbelieving, before dragging a hand over his face.
“You know exactly what.”
You smiled sweetly at him, uncrossing your legs and keeping them spread apart. You stopped pretending, letting your hand settle on the top part of his thigh. He looked down at your hand, and then back at you with a warning look in his eyes. You moved your hand higher, squeezing his thigh through his dress trousers before flexing your hand. Noah pinched his nose, letting out a deep breath.
You knew exactly what you were doing, and you loved every minute. You kept patting his thigh, making sure your movements were slow enough not to catch the attention of the driver. You moved your hand higher up, casually looking out of the window of your side of the car. Noah caught your wrist. You looked at him with disapproval. He met your gaze, eyes pleading for you to stop.
It became clear to him that his attempt was futile. He let go of your wrist and you allowed your hand to settle right over his crotch. For a moment, you didn’t move. You could almost feel Noah letting out a breath of relief. The streets outside looked familiar now, you must only be around ten minutes from home. Plenty of time. You bit your lip to hold back a chuckle as you started to palm him over his pants. He was already hard. Poor guy’s probably had a semi since you stepped out of your walk-in closet earlier that night. You shuffled closer at the pretence of putting your bag down on the floor.
You glanced at the rearview mirror. The driver was totally oblivious. Good. You turned your attention to Noah’s face. His jaw was clenched tight and his eyes closed. His chest rising and falling rapidly. It was obvious that he was using every ounce of restraint in him. Your nimble fingers reached the zipper of his pants, slowly unzipping it. You let the button stay buttoned. With a sly grin, you slid your hands into the opening, letting it settle on the fabric of his boxers. His hips jerked involuntarily.
“Good boy,” you cooed quietly.
Your palm found his pulsating arousal, taking a hold of it. You continued to slowly, casually palm over his hard length. You could feel him becoming harder by the second. When you closed your fingers around him, it only took a few pumps before you could feel his whole body jerk. Noah exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw still clenched as he came. As you felt the sudden wetness of the fabric, you withdrew your hand with a satisfied hum. Noah kept his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.
You leaned forwards, mouth just by his ear.
“Did you make a mess in your pants, hmm?” your whisper scarcely more than a breath.
He just nodded as he reached down to zip his pants back up.
The second the front door closes behind you, you feel his body pressed against yours. His large hands found your hips, his lips on the side of your neck. You exhale, melting into him.
“You think you can get away with that?” he hummed against your neck.
“I know I can.”
His grip on your hips hardened. He spun you around so that you were facing him. A second later he had effortlessly scooped you up on his shoulder.
“Put me down!”
“Nu-uh.”
He held onto you with one large hand in the ditch of your knees. Your hands found his broad back, banging on it to let you down. You suddenly felt a sharp smack against your ass, the sensation making your pussy throb. The effort not to moan out loud felt ridiculous. As if he knew, Noah chuckled as he made his way up the stairs with you over his shoulder.
“Motherfucker…” you mumbled.
“Hmm?”
The smirk on his face faltered for a second when he put you down and got a good look at your face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his face down to yours. The kiss was a mess of clashing teeth and the two of you trying to catch the same breath.
The tip of Noah’s tongue traced your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance. You let him in, and met his tongue with your own. You lightly bit down on his tongue the moment you felt him challenge you. He whimpered.
Breaking the kiss, you placed both hands on his chest.
“You think you’re in charge?” you purred. “With that mess in your pants?”
You shook your head as you pushed him up against a wall, your fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. Your mouth found his lips again, smashing against him. He rewarded you with a quiet moan when you bit down on his lower lip. You trailed messy, open mouthed kisses from the corner of his mouth down to his neck. He groaned as you bit down on the tattooed apple on his neck, directly soothing the marks with the tip of your tongue.
You felt his hands travel from your hips down to cup your ass. You allowed it. That was until he gave your ass a firm squeeze.
You pressed your lips to his earlobe, leaving a small kiss behind. You tut-tutted.
“Have I given you permission to touch me?” you whispered.
Noah gulped and withdrew his hands immediately.
“No…” he whispered.
You continued to kiss the spot right under his ear, sending shivers down his spine.
“So…”
Kiss.
“Why are you…”
Another kiss.
“Taking liberties?”
He let out a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry.”
You chuckled, a hand lazily traveling down his body to the button of his trousers. You undid it before reaching for the zipper. The fabric fell to the floor, pooling around his feet. You placed your fingertips over his boxers, against the outline of his throbbing cock. The touch was feather light, yet he still twitched under your hand.
“I think…” you cooed. “I think you need a lesson.”
He let out a shaky breath.
You pointed to the armchair in the corner of your bedroom, the one you curled up to read books in.
“Put that in front of the bed.”
Noah unwillingly walked away from you, but he did what he was told and placed the armchair at the end of your shared bed.
“Sit.”
He did. Such a good boy.
You slipped your thong off and climbed into bed, still in your dress and heels. You settled at the end of the bed, both feet coming to a rest on his knees. You hoisted your dress up just an inch.
“You don’t get to touch me,” you stated.
He nodded.
“Or yourself.”
He almost looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t. Noah closed his eyes for a second, as if bracing himself.
“Okay,” he said as he opened his eyes.
You smiled sweetly at him before letting one of your hands run down your body, gliding against the fabric of your little black dress. You leaned back on your other arm, keeping your eyes locked on him as your hand reached your chest. You moved your fingers in circular motions over your breast before giving your tit a squeeze. Then you slid the shoulder straps of your dress down, the top part of the dress bunching around your waist.
Noah gulped as you bared your chest to him. You returned your hand to your breast, squeezing and massaging it. You brought your fingers to your mouth, wetting them, before starting to roll your nipple between your fingers. A soft moan escaped you as you started to roll it between your fingertips. Noah’s eyes widened. You let your head fall back as you continued to pinch and roll the sensitive bud, making the prettiest little sounds that went straight to Noah’s head. He wanted nothing else than to reach out, to touch you. But he didn’t.
The sight of you leaning back on your elbows, playing with your tit and bringing the fingers of your other hand to your lips made him gulp. When you stuck two fingers into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks around them as your eyes bore into his, Noah felt like he could cum again right there and then.
You pulled the fingers from your mouth with a pop, smiling slyly at him. You let your hand wander down your body. His eyes followed it until it reached your core. You ran two fingers against your slick folds. You were practically dripping.
Noah groaned as you started to circle your clit.
“What’s the matter baby?” you breathed. “Don’t you like what you see?”
His pupils were blown wide when he lifted his gaze from your dripping pussy to your eyes.
“Please…” he begged.
“You’re gonna watch. You’re gonna be a good boy and watch.”
He flexed his neck and looked down again. You rubbed faster and faster circles on your bundle of nerves, it made you clench around nothing. With your other hand, you pushed two fingers into yourself, curling them to find that perfect spot.
Noah twitched, reaching out for you. You stopped moving directly.
“If you move… If you touch me… If you touch yourself, I will stop. Understood?”
He swallowed.
“Understood.”
“My sweet, pretty boy,” you cooed as you started fucking yourself again. “I bet you're desperate for me to touch you.”
Noah just nodded, gaze transfixed on the way your fingers moved in and out of yourself. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, the tight coil about to snap. You circled your clit faster, Noah’s name spilling from your lips as in prayer. The addition of his name made it almost unbearable for him, his cock straining painfully against the fabric of his boxers. You fucked yourself faster, chasing that high. One look at Noah’s face did it for you. Eyes completely black, jaw a little slack, desire etched into every millimetre of his features. Your orgasm washed over you, your whole body convulsing as you fell back onto the bed.
And then you felt a hand on your shin. Your head snapped back up.
“Did I say you can touch me?”
He was leaning forwards, shirt wide open to reveal the heavy rise and fall of his tattooed chest. You could see the outline of him in his grey boxers. A stain and a wet patch was prominent. For a second you wanted to lurch forward to relieve him. But you didn’t.
“Baby… Sweetheart… please.”
“Have you earnt it?”
“I have!”
“I’m not sure…” you teased.
He once again closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I need it so bad,” he said.
“Beg for it,” you spat.
“Please… Please sweetheart… Let me touch you.”
A crooked smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
“Take off your clothes.”
He did.
“On your knees.”
Noah looked at you for a moment, almost hesitantly, before standing up.
He took a step sideways before slowly sinking to the floor beside the armchair, arms slack against his side. The image before you made your breath hitch.
Noah’s knees dug into the soft rug under the bed, legs spread open as he came to rest on the balls of his feet. The muscles in his thigh flexed, making them appear bigger than usual. His erection laid as if glued to his abs. The tip was an angry red colour, precum making it glisten. He looked up towards you, neck exposed. Your eyes drifted over the little freckles on his broad shoulders. Your mouth went dry when he brought both hands together in front of him, flexing his lower arms.
He locked eyes with you.
“Please,” he said simply.
You tilted forward just enough to reach him. You cupped his cheek in one hand. Noah leaned tentatively into the touch. When you didn’t tell him off he pressed a small kiss in the palm of your hand.
“Back against the headboard,” you whispered.
You quickly slipped out of your dress and shoes as Noah made his way onto the bed. He looked at you with something close to reverence as you straddled his lap.
“Can I touch you?” he whispered.
You smiled.
“As much as you want.”
He cupped your face in both hands, bringing your face to his. The kiss was surprisingly sweet and tender. The two of you simply kissed for a moment, his soft lips massaging yours. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
You reached down between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. You stroked it slowly, your thumb brushing against his sensitive tip. He gasped into your mouth.
You lifted yourself up, guiding him to your entrance with your hand. Both of you shuddered as you lowered yourself down on him. The stretch was so familiar and so delicious. Noah closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards to the headboard as you started to move on his lap.
“Fuck…” he sighed. “You feel so fucking perfect.”
Both of his hands found your hips, helping you settle into a slow rhythm. He moaned your name as you circled your hips on top of him. You grabbed a hold of his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle under his skin move.
“So tight. So good.”
You clenched around him with every bounce. The only sound in the room was the squelching sound of your pussy stretching around him and both of your heavy breathing. You loved riding Noah, since the angle allowed him to get so deep, his tip hitting that perfect spot with every stroke.
He snaked a hand down to where your bodies met. His thumb found your clit instantly. He rubbed lazy, slow circles on it.
“Oh my god…” you moaned.
“I’m so close,” he said. “Not gonna… not gonna last.”
You moaned his name as he sped up, rubbing your clit with just the right amount of pressure. Your second orgasm washed over you without warning and you collapsed in his arms, his name spilling from your lips. Noah moved his hips more and more erratically before tensing up, shooting hot ropes of cum onto your walls.
You remained in his arms as the both of you tried to catch your breath. Your face was buried in his shoulder, one of his large hands cradling the back of your head whilst the other caressed your back.
“Fucking hell,” he croaked. “I don’t know where that came from sweetheart, but I’m down any day.”
You could only laugh, hiding your face in your hands.
