#but rin made it for them and that means something to them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hainge · 2 months ago

Text

While mama is away...

bllk!dads summary:You’re off on a well-deserved vacation, and it’s Dad’s turn to take care of the morning school/daycare chaos (but not for everyone). But don’t worry, they are trying.

characters: Michael Kaiser, Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Nagi Seishiro, Shidou Ryusei, Chigiri Hyoma and Isagi Yoichi

Michael Kaiser and Felix (5)

"Your hair looks like a mop with regrets."

Kaiser wakes to the rhythmic sound of tiny fists slapping wood, not his face, thankfully, but his bedroom door. Each knock is punctuated with a little voice that sounds way too calm for this level of passive aggression.

"You forgot to prep my uniform like you promised."

Kaiser groans, dragging a pillow over his face. "That can’t be right. I swear I laid it out." His voice is hoarse. His brain is not yet connected to his limbs.

"You didn’t. Mama always does it the night before. Organized people do that. You are not one of them."

He peeks out from the pillow. Felix is standing there in blue footie pajamas, arms crossed like a tiny HR rep preparing to file a complaint. His hair is somehow perfectly brushed, probably brushed it himself. Probably judged Kaiser in the mirror while doing it.

Kaiser stumbles up and scans the room. There’s no sign of a uniform. Just a mountain of track pants, training jerseys, and a rogue shin guard sitting on a chair like a depressed accessory.

"Okay, okay. We’ll find it. Let me just—"

Felix sighs with the kind of disappointment that ages a man ten years. "This is why I schedule things. Mama says time is a tool, and you're just swinging it around like a sword in the dark."

"You're a kid" Kaiser squints at him.

"And yet, I'm thriving."

Breakfast is chaos, wrapped in good intentions and sealed with failure.

Kaiser, in boxers and one sock, confidently pours chocolate chip cookie cereal into a bowl like it’s a gift to mankind.

"No," Felix says immediately, deadpan.

Kaiser blinks. "What do you mean no?"

"I want the star cereal. With the astronaut bear on the box."

"We don’t have astronaut cereal. I checked."

Felix picks up his dinosaur cup, takes a long, judgmental sip of water, and sets it down like he's a seasoned divorce attorney about to deliver a verdict.

"Then you failed twice."

"Okay, I’m improvising!" Kaiser declares, dramatically. "That’s called flexibility. Champions adapt."

"You made me a bowl of disappointment"

The kid turns on his heel and stomps toward the living room.

"Play Paw Patrol."

Kaiser sighs and flips it on. The theme song blasts while he toasts bread and slices a banana, trying to channel his inner domestic god. Felix sulks under a blanket on the couch, his face barely visible, eyes fixed on Sky like she’s the only creature who gets him.

"Are you mad at Papa?" Kaiser asks, creeping over with the toast like a peace offering.

"disappointed."

Kaiser recoils. "That’s worse!"

In the car, the silence is palpable until Felix decides to reopen the case file.

"Your hair looks weird."

Kaiser glances in the rearview. "It’s bedhead. I didn’t get to do anything to it."

"You look like a mop with regrets."

Kaiser nearly swerves into a dramatic spiral. "You’re still young and vulnerable. You’re supposed to love me unconditionally."

Felix shrugs. "Love doesn’t mean enabling."

Kaiser stares at him for a moment too long at a red light. "Are you sure you’re five?"

"I’m advanced."

He squints. "You don’t have, like, dwarfism or something? Because your tongue is ancient."

Felix tilts his head, unbothered. "Maybe you just need to grow up."

Kaiser exhales. "This is why your mama needs to come home."

Itoshi Rin and Masako (7)

“You’re brushing my spine. My hair is higher than that.”

Rin Itoshi was not ready.

And he’s been in World Cup finals. He’s played in front of millions of people. He’s stared down some of the best strikers in the world. But none of that prepared him for the soft pink battlefield that is Masako’s bedroom at 7 a.m.

He’s standing there, clutching a hairbrush like it personally offended him, staring down his tiny opponent: a seven-year-old in a unicorn nightgown, legs swinging calmly over the edge of her bed, smiling like she’s about to give him performance feedback.

"Morning, Papa," Masako says sweetly, eyes shining with innocence and a hint of dread.

"Hey, baby. Let’s get you dressed, yeah?"

"Okay. Mama usually does it while I tell her about my dreams, and then we do affirmations. But you can do it your way."

Rin pauses. "Affirmations?"

"You know. ‘I am brave, I am strong, I am smart, I am kind.’" She tilts her head. "Mama says it rewires my neurons."

Rin has no idea what that means. He awkwardly clears his throat. "You are… all of those. Very… neuron-y."

Masako beams. "Good try."

He opens the dresser drawer and grabs a blue dress with little daisies on it.

"That’s the Tuesday dress," she says without even looking.

Rin blinks. "It’s… Friday?"

She points. "Mama folds them in day-order. See the little tags?"

There are labels. Actual tiny labeled dividers — "MONDAY," "TUESDAY," "WEDNESDAY" — staring up at him like proof he’s unfit for this mission.

He stares into the drawer like it betrayed him. "I feel lied to by fabric."

Masako pats his arm gently. "It’s okay. I’ll help you. You’re learning."

He finally gets her into the Friday dress after a mild struggle involving backward tights and a missing sock (it was on her hand, pretending to be a puppet named Alice).

Now: the hair.

He lifts the brush, cautiously. Masako gives him a look.

"That’s not the detangle brush."

"It’s a brush," Rin replies flatly.

"The detangle one is the purple one with the soft bristles. And Mama uses the pink spray first. It’s in the cabinet behind the scary face cream."

"My shaving cream?"

"Yes. It’s foamy. I don’t trust it."

He sighs, finds the spray, and squirts half of it into his own eye. Masako blinks politely and hands him a towel like this is routine.

He starts brushing, gently.

"Papa," she says after a few strokes. "You’re brushing my spine. My hair is higher than that."

"I’ve played against international strikers," Rin mutters.

"And now you're brushing the wrong bones."

By some miracle, he gets one (1) braid done. It is crooked. It is struggling. It looks like it just came back from a very windy jog. Masako looks at herself in the mirror, then turns to him with a soft smile.

"You tried. I’ll tell Mama you tried."

"That bad, huh?"

"No. It’s a fashionable tornado. Very abstract. Very… movement."

"You’re so much like your mom, it’s terrifying."

"She said that too."

"Do you do this every morning?" he asks, exhausted, watching her munch on heart-shaped cereal pieces.

"Yup." She chews thoughtfully. "But Mama makes it feel less like a crisis."

"Cool. Cool cool cool."

When he ties her shoelaces and gets them both into the car, both dressed, fed, semi-composed, he lets out a breath like he just finished a 90-minute match in overtime.

From the backseat: "You did good, Papa."

He smiles, warmed.

"Except for my braid. I feel like I can hear it."

"Thanks for your support."

"You’re welcome. You tried really hard. But maybe… don’t quit your day job."

Rin glances in the mirror, mock-offended. "Why are you like this?"

Masako shrugs.

Itoshi Sae, Kimiko(6) and Haruki (4)

“Papa: useless.”

Sae wakes up to the sound of war.

Not actual war, just the six-year-old kind.

"GET UP! WE’RE GONNA BE LATE AND I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING IF I HAVE TO PACK MY OWN LUNCH—"

The voice echoes through the apartment with the fury of a kindergarten general. Sae blinks at the ceiling, sighs, and reaches blindly for the mug already on his nightstand. Cold coffee. He knew this would happen.

A door slams. Feet stomp. A high-pitched rant about someone putting the purple lid on the pink cup.

Welcome to morning with Kimiko.

He shuffles into the kitchen where his daughter, dressed in blue pajamas and righteous purpose, is furiously spreading jam onto toast. She’s standing on a stool, her hair already brushed and braided, a sparkly headband angled with extreme precision.

Her little brother Haruki is laid out face-first on the couch like he passed out mid-protest, blanket over his head, legs kicking idly in the air.

Sae sips his coffee. "Is he breathing?"

Kimiko glances over her shoulder. "Barely. He won’t eat the eggs, and I did the smiley face ketchup thing. Just like Mama. I even gave the eggs eyebrows."

Sae leans on the counter. "You’re terrifying."

Haruki lifts his head an inch. His hair is flattened on one side like a soggy croissant. "I want bread."

Kimiko slaps a hand to her forehead like this is the fourth trial she’s endured today. Sae tosses a slice of bread in Haruki’s direction. It lands on his back. He grunts in approval and flops back down like a tranquilized cat.

Kimiko chugs her milk like it’s a stress reliever. "Hair: brushed. Water bottle: filled. Math homework: complete. Papa: useless."

Sae raises an eyebrow. "At least one of us is thriving."

"I did your and Mama’s job today."

"Should I pay you?"

"Yes. A LOL surprise."

Sae thinks about it, nods slowly. "Only if you stop yelling at Haruki."

"Deal."

Ten minutes later, Kimiko is doing a last-minute inspection of her backpack like a TSA agent. Haruki is under the table, still eating his bread one crumb at a time.

Sae walks over and crouches down. "You gonna make it, champ?"

Haruki gives him a slow, sleepy thumbs up. "Papa’s cool."

"Wow. That’s the highest rating I’ve ever gotten from you."

Kimiko calls from the hallway. "He only compliments people once a week."

On the way out the door, Sae looks down at his son, bed-headed, shoeless, still munching.

"You and me are the same, huh?"

Kimiko turns back around, arms crossed. "you’re both boring."

Sae shrugs.

Kimiko lets out a long, exhausted sigh like she’s raising both of them. "I hope Mama never finds out how bad this was."

"Too late," Sae says, unlocking his phone and pointing at the camera. "I recorded everything. Gonna show her you braided your own hair."

Kimiko gasps. "That’s illegal!"

Haruki looks up. "Tell mama I brushed my teeth."

"You didn’t." she yelled.

Sae sighed. "I thought about it." he smiles faintly as they head out, Kimiko already bossing her brother down the hallway.

Sometimes being a dad felt like being on a team where the coach was six, the star player was asleep under the coffee table, and he was just there to drive the van.

But hey. They were dressed, fed (kind of), and on time. That’s a win.

Nagi Seishiro and Shizuku (4)

“You said that three times already.”

Nagi wakes up to a presence.

Not noise. Not shaking. Just…vibes.

He opens one eye and sees Shizuku standing silently at his bedside, holding her bunny and staring like a tiny, polite ghost. Her hair is a waterfall down her back, too smooth to be legal at this hour.

“…You okay?” he mumbles.

She nods once. Then whispers, “It’s wake-up time now.”

Nagi grunts. “Five more minutes.”

“You already said that three times,” she says, barely audible, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed to correct him.

He flops back down dramatically. “Tragic.”

But she climbs into bed beside him and waits like a quiet judge. Two minutes later, she gently pokes his face.

“...mommy said we can’t be late.”

He groans into the pillow.

In the kitchen, he burns the toast again. Shizuku just blinks at it. She picks up a slice, takes one polite bite, and slowly sets it down like it offended her ancestors.

“I like it less when it’s… smoky,” she says, after a pause.

“Same,” Nagi mutters, already Googling “how to not burn toast.”

The apple slices go untouched. He side-eyes her. “You asked for apples.”

She nods shyly. Then whispers, “I meant the crunchy green ones. Not the sad red ones.”

“Noted. I’ll fire the fruit guy.”

But the real boss fight? Her hair.

Nagi stares into the mirror. Shizuku sits on the bathroom counter in her unicorn pajamas, legs swinging. Her long hair spills behind her like it’s mocking him. The brush is already stuck and it’s been ten seconds.

“Okay,” he says. “This is fine. We’ve trained for this.”

They have not trained for this.

He tries to gather it all into one neat ponytail. It slips through his fingers like magic. Her bangs fall into her face again. He brushes them aside. They fall again. He lets out a single defeated sigh.

“You okay, Papa?” she asks quietly.

“Not really.”

She watches as he tries again. The elastic flies off his fingers and hits the mirror. They both freeze.

Shizuku slowly offers him a second hair tie from her lap like she’s handing over a weapon in a movie.

He attempts a braid. It ends up looking like a sad pretzel.

After thirty exhausting minutes, he gives up.

“…Let’s go wild today.”

She nods. Then whispers, “Like a lion?”

He blinks. “Uhh...yes. A little lion"

They head to the front door. Shizuku, bundled up in her puffy coat, stands quietly while Nagi struggles to zip it all the way. The zipper catches twice. He mutters something about the universe being against him.

“Almost got it,” he says.

Shizuku stares at him. Then carefully holds out one mittened hand and says, “You have to push it up first.”

Nagi blinks. Tries it. It works immediately.

“…When did you learn that?”

She shrugs. “Mama does it.”

Of course.

He grabs her tiny backpack. She reaches up for it like a sleepy executive going to an important meeting. Just as he’s opening the door, she suddenly stops.

“Wait,” she says, frowning. “You forgot your kiss.”

Nagi freezes mid-step. “My what?”

She reaches up, stands on tiptoe, and plants a tiny kiss on his cheek.

“For luck,” she whispers.

He melts.

But as he buckles her into the car seat, she turns serious again.

“Papa?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re still wearing your bunny slippers.”

He looks down. Loafers: missing. Bunny slippers: present.

He groans.

She just nods, calm and composed.

“I won’t tell Mama,” she says quietly.

Nagi stares at her, utterly amused.

Shidou Ryusei and Shoko (6)

“That’s called fashion, babe.”

Shidou kicks open his daughter’s bedroom door like he’s breaking into a villain’s lair.

“RISE AND SHINE, BABY GREMLIN!”

There’s a silence. Then the blanket rustles. A pillow sails through the air like a missile.

“YOU RISE, LOSER!” comes the response, shrill and feral.

She hurls herself off the bed in a flying tackle. Shidou catches her midair and spins her.

“AHHH—MY BONES! I’M TOO YOUNG FOR THIS!”

“YOU’RE 28, ACT YOUR AGE!”

“NEVER!”

Their mornings are less "routine" and more "WWE meets glitter daycare." And today is no exception.

The kitchen smells like chaos.

Shidou is flipping neon pink pancakes with a spatula in one hand and mixing syrup with food coloring in the other.

“We feast like royalty today!” he declares, sliding a plate onto the table with the flourish of a man who’s proud of his crimes.

“Royalty who eats sugar for breakfast and cries at the dentist,” Shoko mutters, unimpressed but already loading up on whipped cream.

“This is called culinary art, thank you very much.”

“You put candy eyes on everything.”

“Because everything should have a soul.”

She snorts, kicking her feet under the table. Her purple unicorn onesie is still half-zipped, and her hair looks like she fought a wind god. Which means—

“Hair time,” Shidou announces ominously.

In the bathroom, she climbs onto the counter while he gets to work. And this is where Shidou actually shines.

You wouldn’t know it by the rest of his lifestyle, but when it comes to his daughter’s hair? He’s a machine.

He sections, detangles, and smooths with laser focus. He could probably braid blindfolded. The final style includes two delicate braids, glitter strands, two color-matching bows, and, at her request, a tiny butterfly clip "for intimidation purposes."

She stares at herself in the mirror with satisfaction.

“I look like a fairy who could commit war crimes,” she says, hands on hips.

Shidou nods. “Exactly the vibe.”

She leans in closer, turning her head from side to side. “It’s giving… magical girl"

“Ten outta ten.”

Speaking of lunch, that’s a whole other thing.

Shidou’s idea of a balanced meal is… questionable. Today, her bento includes: three mini meatball sliders, heart-shaped cucumber slices, rainbow gummy worms, and a juice pouch labeled “Liquid Victory” in marker.

She peeks into the box.

“You forgot the sparkle jelly.”

He gasps. “Oh my god. I’m a disgrace.”

He literally runs to the fridge, grabs a cup of blue sparkle jelly, and slides it in with a bow like he's handing over a rare gem.

They high-five.

Shoko zips up her jacket while Shidou is still trying to put on sneakers with mismatched socks. The morning sun hits her like a spotlight, her glittery hair practically glowing, lunchbox swinging, war-ready energy at max level.

“Alright, tiny menace,” Shidou says, tossing her backpack over her shoulder. “Go wreak some controlled havoc, yeah?”

She grins.

They do a complicated secret handshake that ends in jazz hands.

Then she squints up at him.

“…uhh"

“Yeah?”

She steps forward and gently tugs the hem of his hoodie. “Your pants are inside out again.”

He looks down. Pauses.

“Intentional,” he says confidently. “That’s called fashion, babe.”

She exhales the way a mother does when her child disappoints her.

“You’re welcome.”

They march to the car like a superhero duo. As they approach the school gate, the teacher sees them and visibly braces herself.

Shoko waves sweetly. Shidou throws finger guns.

Chigiri Hyoma, Mayu and Himari (twins, 6)

“Let’s go, bitch!” The morning had started with harmony.

Chigiri was plating up breakfast like he was filming for a cooking channel, tiny waffles with chocolate syrup swirled into art, strawberries fanned out on the side, and little heart-shaped forks placed neatly on matching plates.

“Breakfast is ready” he called out as the twins marched into the kitchen in matching fuzzy slippers.

Mayu slid into her seat with a soft “thank you, Papa,” immediately picking up a strawberry with delicate fingers. Himari, however, stared at her plate like it had personally insulted her.

“Papa,” she said, squinting. “This syrup is… attacking.”

Chigiri turned from the sink. “Attacking?”

“It’s too much. My waffle is drowning. It looks like chocolate soup.”

“It’s the same amount as always,” Chigiri said, tilting his head. “Maybe the syrup bottle was just feeling generous today.”

Himari poked her waffle with the fork like it might explode. “It’s gross.”

Mayu, ever the diplomat, offered sweetly, “I can trade with you if you want. Mine doesn’t have as much—”

“I DON’T WANT YOURS” Himari snapped, eyes wide and brows scrunched. “Why do you always talk when I’m mad? It makes it worse!”

Mayu blinked. Her lip quivered slightly, but she said nothing. Just put down her fork, slipped off her chair, and walked quietly out of the kitchen.

Chigiri froze, one hand holding the juice jug. “Himari…”

She was still glaring at her plate, mumbling, “I didn’t mean it"

Chigiri sighed. “That was pretty harsh. You okay if I go check on her?”

Himari shrugged, then grabbed her waffle with both hands and took an angry bite. “Fine.”

He found Mayu sitting cross-legged on her bed, hugging her stuffed dolphin, blinking very fast.

Chigiri sat beside her, gently brushing her bangs back.

“She didn’t mean it,” he said softly.

Mayu nodded. “I know.”

“But it still hurt,” he added.

Mayu’s chin wobbled. “A little.”

He kissed the top of her head. “That’s okay. You don’t always have to be the nice one, you know. You're allowed to feel things too.”

“I didn’t want her to be more mad,” Mayu whispered. “So I didn’t cry.”

Chigiri smiled and pulled her into a hug. “You’re strong, Mayu. But you don’t have to carry everything alone.”

Back in the kitchen, Himari had eaten her entire waffle and was now staring down the empty plate like it was to blame. She looked up guiltily when they returned.

Mayu gave her a tiny smile.

“I saved you a strawberry,” Himari muttered, sliding it across the table without looking up.

“…Thanks,” Mayu replied, quietly taking her seat again.

Chigiri clapped his hands. “Okay, drama queens. Time to get gorgeous.”

Ten minutes later, Chigiri had perfectly braided Mayu's hair and gave Himari her usual high pigtails. “There, perfect,” he said, fluffing them both up.

Mayu beamed at her reflection. “Thanks, Papa!”

Himari gave a little nod. “can you make them bouncier next time?”

“Of course,” Chigiri said with a sigh.

With their outfits on, Chigiri gave a final once-over. “Clothes: 10/10. Hair: flawless. Now, let’s avoid a glitter explosion before school, yeah?”

Himari huffed. “Fine. No glitter.”

They walked out, looking like a Pinterest-perfect family. Chigiri handed them their lunchboxes and led them to the car.

Ready for the day?” Chigiri asked with a smile.

“Ready!” Mayu said calmly.

“Let’s go, bitch!” Himari cheered.

Chigiri froze, eyes wide, his mouth slightly agape. “Excuse me?”

Himari looked at him with a judgemental look. “What? I’m just hyped for the day!”

Chigiri blinked, still processing the words. “Where... where did you hear that?”

Himari shrugged, unfazed. “From that film we watched this weekend. You fell asleep halfway through, but I watched the rest.”

Chigiri’s face went a shade paler, his mind racing. “What exactly were they saying?”

“Uh, I don’t know... some stuff,” Himari said nonchalantly. “It was funny.”

Chigiri closed his eyes for a brief second, imagining the chaos. He could already picture your reaction if you find out Himari picked up that word. A small shiver ran down his spine.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, mentally preparing for the inevitable fallout. “Just...fantastic.”

Isagi Yoichi and Isamu (7)

“I don’t get school,” Isagi had made a to-do list the night before. He was determined to make this morning perfect.

To-Do:

Wake up by 6:30

Eggs & toast

Soccer uniform ready

Water bottle filled

Motivation speech (brief)

He wakes up at 6:42. Panic hits like a red card.

His son, Isamu, is sprawled out in bed like he’s auditioning for a starfish role in an ocean documentary.

"Isamu, buddy, time to get up," Isagi says, shaking him gently. "Big day ahead!"

"Ugh," Isamu groans, barely opening an eye. "I want to drop out."

"You’re seven."

"Exactly," Isamu says, rolling over and curling into a blanket burrito.

Isagi’s internal monologue screams as he rushes to the kitchen. Breakfast needs to be perfect. The eggs are half-scrambled, and the toast? Slightly burned. He slides it onto a plate like it's the Mona Lisa of breakfast, though it looks more like abstract art.

"Breakfast, Isamu. You’ll need energy for school!" Isagi says, trying to sound motivational.

Isamu eyes the toast like it’s a science experiment. "What is this...? It’s... not pizza."

"Eat it, or no soccer later," Isagi threatens.

Isamu rolls his eyes dramatically and takes a bite. "You’re so dramatic. I still don’t care about school."

"School is important!" Isagi insists, getting flustered. "You need education to—"

"I’m gonna play soccer," Isamu interrupts, chewing with all the intensity of a man who’s just been told he has a free pizza pass. "Who needs school when you’ve got soccer?"

Isagi ignores the comment and rushes to get his son’s clothes. He’s sure he left them right there on the chair. He checks the chair. Nothing. He checks the floor. Nothing. He checks under the bed, under the table, in the laundry basket.

"Where the heck are they?" Isagi mutters, sweating now. "I swear I put them here."

"Maybe the ghosts took them," Isamu offers nonchalantly from the kitchen, barely glancing up from his toast.

Isagi freezes. "Ghosts? Why would—"

Before he can finish, Isamu shrugs, "I don’t know. Could be."

After a few more frantic minutes of searching (and Isamu offering absolutely no help), Isagi finally finds the soccer uniform under the couch.

"Found it!" Isagi declares, holding it up triumphantly like a knight retrieving a sword.

"About time," Isamu says, unbothered, chewing slowly as if he were watching paint dry.

They race to get out the door. Isagi grabs the water bottle, zips the bag, and notices Isamu’s shoes are mismatched. He doesn’t have time to fix it.

"Teeth brushed?" Isagi asks as he grabs his keys.

"Close enough," Isamu replies with a yawn.

“I love you” Isagi says, feeling a mix of exhaustion and love.

"I love soccer," Isamu replies, not even looking up from his phone game.

Once dressed and vaguely clean, Isamu plops into the car seat like it personally offended him. Isagi starts the engine, already five minutes behind schedule.

The car is quiet until Isamu sighs like he’s been carrying emotional weight since birth.

“I don’t get school,” he mutters.

Isagi glances at him. “What do you mean?”

“I sit in a chair for hours while the teacher tells me triangles are important. For what? Triangles have never scored a goal in their lives.”

Isagi stifles a laugh. “Triangles are used in passing formations.”

“Not emotional triangles. That’s different.”

He stares out the window dramatically. “And you know what else? People lie. Yesterday, this kid told me we were best friends. Then he passed the ball to someone else.”

Isagi hums sympathetically. “Harsh.”

“I’m starting to think school is just a government distraction from my true potential.”

“Which is…?”

“Becoming the best striker”

There’s a pause. Then Isamu adds, “Also, I don’t trust teachers who wear shoes indoors. That's villain behavior.”

Isagi parks in front of the school with a slow breath. “Okay. Big day. Deep breaths.”

Isamu opens the door and mutters, “Time to enter the battlefield.”

bllk!dads

1K notes · View notes

mikurinkuwu · 6 months ago

Text

something funny i noticed about them

(ramble below)

its fun how they're both so different yet so similar, their personalities are nothing alike but the way they process things, their decisions and reactions are nearly identical, both went through a "roleplaying" phase in their youth, adopting the roles those around them wanted them to play

miku has never been mean or evil, but people, the circumstances, forced him to adopt a role he was never made for playing, same case with rin, she was forced to turn into this flawless being who makes no mistakes and is always kind to everyone

in the end, both took the decision to play along to protect themselves, to fit in just like anybody else, to have a role, a set position, something stable to hold onto, but it wounded them deeply, and it takes them a long time to heal and learn to be themselves again

#vocaloid #hatsune miku #kagamine rin #mikurin #art #my art #miku x rin #rin x miku #sorry about the ramble #i just love them that much #i take this hc shit seriously LMFAO

3K notes · View notes

eclipixels · 5 months ago

Text

Casual

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

Content: "Casual relationship with the boys but it’s just you getting ahead of yourself and planning to talk to them about getting serious until you saw a headline about 'your' man going official with another lady." - @captainshindo

Yoichi Isagi

You weren’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Isagi Yoichi was never officially yours, not in the way that mattered. Sure, he kissed you like you were the only person in the world, pulled you into his arms like he had no intention of letting go, and whispered things at night that made your stomach flip. But there had never been a label.

It was fine. You were fine. Until you saw the headline.

"Blue Lock’s Rising Star Isagi Yoichi Goes Official With Mystery Beauty!"

Your stomach dropped. The article featured blurry paparazzi shots of him with some woman—her face obscured, but her hand was clearly clutching his wrist. You read every line, dissecting every word like it held the key to your survival of your heart. The journalist speculated, fans freaked out, and suddenly, it felt like the whole world was deciding where Isagi’s heart belonged.

Except, no one had asked you.

You slammed your phone down, anger bubbling up, not just at him but at yourself. You had been ready, so ready, to have the talk, to define what this thing between you really was. But now? What was the point?

When Isagi came home later, he immediately noticed something was off.

"You’re mad at me."

"Really?” You scoffed.

"Yeah, you are." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Is this about the article? I have no idea who that woman even was, I’m pretty sure it was a fan."

Your eyes snapped to him. He looked guilty. Good.

"Why would I care?" you asked, voice tight. "We’re not dating, right? I mean, not really. So why should I care?"

His heart cracked when you said that. Did this mean nothing to you? Truth be told, he was planning to talk to you soon about your relationship. He wanted to be yours officially, now he feels dumb for not doing it sooner. Because now, his baby’s heart was broken and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"Come on, you know that’s not—"

"Not what? Not true?"

And it wasn’t like he could just announce to the world that he was taken. Right? But still, he could’ve done something. At least that's what you told yourself.

Isagi sat in bed that night, phone in hand, searching for ways to subtly (or not-so-subtly) let people know he was taken.

What he found was… questionable.

“Give her your hoodie, post her on your story, make it obvious.”

Okay. Normal enough. What else, though? He wanted to do something more than that.

“Hickeys are the ultimate mark of possession.”

His face burned. He thought about it for half a second, then realized they were temporary. That wasn’t enough.

And then he saw it.

A tattoo. Permanent. Undeniable. Forever.

It was impulsive, but so was he.

Isagi came home, a slight wince on his face as he rolled his shoulder as he began experiencing the weak symptoms of a tattoo flu.

"Hey."

You barely looked up from your phone.

He hovered for a second, then sighed dramatically. "You’re still mad."

Silence.

"Okay, well, can you at least look at me?"

With an exaggerated eye-roll, you glanced up and immediately did a double take.

"What the hell is that?" you asked, pointing at the fresh ink on the side of his neck.

Bold, black letters. Your name. Right there for the world to see.

"A tattoo," he said casually, like he hadn’t just done the most insane thing in history.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. "No, yeah, I can see that. Why?"

Isagi scratched the back of his head, suddenly sheepish. "Well, I wanted people to know I’m taken."

"That’s the way you went about it?"

"Yeah, but this way, they can’t argue about it." He grinned, a little too pleased with himself.

“Check my socials” He said with a smug expression. You gave him a puzzled but cautious look as you slowly opened your social media.

He posted you. Not just that, he put your name in his bio with a heart emoji.

You blinked. Slowly.

"You’re insane."

"Maybe." He stepped closer, tilting his head with a smirk. "But now you can’t say I’m not serious."

“That is a good picture of us,” You hummed, squealing on the inside at the gesture. He really did that.

“Match bios with me before it looks like I’m embarrassing myself.” He said sternly and you laughed, your eyes falling past from his lips to the fresh tattoo on his neck.

“That’s permanent”

“So is this,” He smiled slyly, pulling you in for a kiss.

Damn him. Damn him and his stupid, reckless, insanely hot commitment.

You exhaled, shaking your head. "You’re lucky I love you, Isagi Yoichi."

That was the first time you said those words to him. I love you.

"I know. I love you too.” He grinned. Yeah, and so does the whole world know now too.

Meguru Bachira

You weren’t the type to rush into things.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you first started seeing Bachira Meguru. It had been casual, fun, and effortless. The kind of relationship where dates blurred into late-night calls, where teasing turned into lingering touches, and where stolen kisses didn’t come with strings attached. You liked him. A lot. Maybe too much.

That was the problem.

You told yourself it was just fun. That the way he’d tug you close after a match, sweat still dripping from his bangs, meant nothing. The way he sent you voice notes about the most random things, like how the vending machine near his training center always stole his coins. It wasn’t anything special.

But you wanted more. And after weeks of convincing yourself it wasn’t just one-sided, you’d decided it was time to have the conversation. The ‘what are we?’ talk. The ‘I think I want to be with you officially’ talk.

You had it all planned out. You’d meet him after practice, maybe go for a walk, maybe grab something to eat. You’d be subtle about it, ease into it the way you always did with him. No pressure. No big declarations.

Then, fate decided to punch you in the gut.

Your phone screen lit up with a notification, the kind you usually ignored. But the name caught your eye. Bachira Meguru.

It wasn’t a text. It wasn’t even a message from him. It was a headline. A big, bold, soul-crushing headline plastered across a sports gossip site.

“Blue Lock Star Bachira Meguru Goes Official with Rising Model Hana Yoshida!”

The article was filled with pictures, ones you’d never seen before. Bachira with his arm draped over her shoulders, grinning like he had no worries in the world. Her hand playfully on his chest. Them standing too close, their body language screaming intimacy.

You stared at your phone, the weight of your own naivety sinking in.

Had he ever mentioned her? No.

Had he ever given you any reason to believe it was just you? Also no.

You had assumed. And that was your mistake.

The realization was sobering. The night before, he had sent you a voice note about his latest match, his usual excited rambling filling your ears. It felt normal. Easy. Safe. But now, the words rang hollow in your memory, like they belonged to a different story altogether.

You inhaled sharply and forced a laugh, the sound bitter in your own ears.

Wasn’t this a blessing in disguise? If you had spoken to him any sooner, you would’ve made a fool of yourself.

Dodged a bullet. Saved yourself from embarrassment.

You locked your phone and tossed it onto the couch, letting out a long breath. Maybe it was time to let go of the idea of ‘what could’ve been’ and accept what was staring you in the face.

Bachira Meguru was never yours to begin with.

You had ignored his calls. His texts. His voice notes. Bachira was starting to panic. Had he done something wrong? Had he messed up what you two had, without even realizing it?

The overwhelming feelings he had for you were impossible to express, no matter how hard he tried. He never quite knew the right words, but he knew this. He couldn’t lose you. After years of isolation, of feeling like no one truly understood him, you had come into his life. You got him. And now, the thought of that slipping away, of you slipping away, was unbearable.

So, in the dead of night, with anxiety clawing at his chest, Bachira showed up at your door. A bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand, a bag of your favorite snacks in the other, and an apology for whatever the hell it was he had done to make you pull away. He wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for, but he knew he couldn’t stand this silence between you two any longer.

When he stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, the words he blurted out took you by surprise, and all the anger you had been holding onto melted away in an instant.

“Are you breaking up with me or something? What did I do?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Meguru, you really don’t know? You didn’t see the articles and— wait, you thought we’re together?”

“Well, yeah," he said, frowning, his eyes wide with confusion. "I’m your boyfriend, right? Or did… Oh no, did I assume wrong?” He looked at you in a mix of worry and uncertainty, and something in your chest tightened. He looked so lost, so vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

“No, no, it’s not that,” you said quickly, trying to explain. “I just saw you with that model, and I thought—”

“It was for a commercial for Chris Prince’s brand,” he interrupted, his expression softening slightly. “Wait… people are thinking it’s more than that?”

“The article says it’s official,” you said, biting your lip, unsure how to explain the confusion that had swept over you.

He froze, processing what you said, then his face shifted to a mix of disbelief and determination. “The hell? No, no way. I’m fixing that. But first,” he said, his gaze locking onto yours, “I need to fix this.” The cool night air swirled around him, his features glowing in the soft light, giving him an almost ethereal quality.

You blinked, momentarily speechless.

He stepped closer, leaning in as he looked into your eyes with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. “We are together. Yes?”

You felt your heart race. “Okay,” you answered, the tension in your body easing with the words.

Without another word, Bachira leaned in and kissed you. Soft, sweet, but with a warmth that melted away any remaining uncertainty. When he pulled back, he glanced up at you with a shy grin.

“Good. Can I, uh, come in?”

You blinked again stunned from the kiss before quickly stepping aside. “Oh, yeah! Sorry, come in!”

Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri was great—amazing, even. Every moment spent with him was effortless. The two of you didn’t define things; it was simple. Casual. Late night skin care dates, movies, shopping, boba. No pressure, no expectations. Or so you thought. But somewhere between laughing over late-night games and the quiet mornings at his apartment, you’d started to wish for more. You didn’t just want him in your life—you wanted him. And not just as a casual companion, but as someone who would be there in the long run. So, you had decided to talk to him about taking things a step further.

You reread your draft one more time.

“Hey, Hyoma. I know we’ve been having a lot of fun, but... I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I think I’m ready for something more serious. What do you think?”

You bit your lip, ready to send it, but then the familiar buzz of a notification caught your attention. A headline. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Hyoma Chigiri Goes Official with Miku Takeda”

Your breath caught. The picture accompanying the article was of Chigiri, smiling brightly beside a woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a radiant expression. She looked happy. And he was happy, too. You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the wave of disappointment, but it was too much. The words blurred before your eyes as a dull ache settled deep in your chest.

You blinked rapidly, trying to piece everything together. You two hadn’t exactly made anything official, sure, but... hadn’t the connection felt special? You had been special, hadn’t you? There had been nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, mornings where you stayed in bed a little too long, stealing kisses between sleepy grins.

A dark thought crept in, taunting you, Was he even serious about me?

Without thinking, you grabbed your things, leaving the coffee shop in a daze. The cold wind bit at your skin, but you barely noticed. You didn’t know what you were feeling anymore. You had imagined a future with him, and now it was slipping through your fingers like sand.

The next day, the confusion still gnawed at you. It was hard to focus on anything other than the image of Chigiri standing next to someone else. The woman was probably sweet, charming, someone who could give him everything you could never offer. Was that why he hadn’t wanted to make things official? You were a fool to have expected more.

You were lost in your thoughts when your phone buzzed again. A text from him.

“Hey, can I see you later?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You stared at the message, reading it over and over. He wanted to see you? What could he possibly want to talk about?

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your apartment door. You hesitated for a moment before opening it, only to find Chigiri standing there, his usual calm expression now tinged with uncertainty. His eyes softened when he saw you.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“I can't,” you replied, trying to sound neutral, but your voice wavered.

“Why?”

“I have to um, walk my pet fish.” You gave a poor excuse.

“Princess, you don’t have a fish.” He bluntly said, giving you a pointed look. Your heart fluttered at the nickname. Why was he here? Why was he calling you that? Why was he playing with you like this? You defeatedly let him in, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on you. There was an awkward silence between you two. He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly unsure of where to start.

“You saw the article, didn’t you” he said finally, his tone a little more serious.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I did. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”

“I am,” He said defensively and you gave him a confused look. Was he here to break your heart all over again?

“If that's all you came here to say then—”

“You.” He interrupted you. “It’s you. I’m serious about you.”

“What?”

“It’s not what you think,” he replied quickly, his voice tense. “That woman in the photo, she was just a fan who asked to take a picture. Nothing more. I don’t know how that rumor even got started.”

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood through you. Of course, you hadn’t asked him about her. You’d just jumped to conclusions, letting insecurity take hold of you.

“Oh.” you murmured, guilt creeping into your voice.

Chigiri ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated with himself. “No, this is my fault. I should’ve made it clear our relationship so you’d never have to feel this way.” His eyes softened as he stepped closer to you. “But what I’m saying is, I’ve only been focused on you.”

Your heart skipped in your chest, and you met his gaze at last. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes.

“Yeah, um, me too.” You awkwardly answered, suddenly feeling small under his gaze.

“Can I be your boyfriend? Officially?”

“Yes.”

Rin Itoshi

You had always known that Rin Itoshi wasn’t the type for deep emotions. His cool demeanor, sharp gaze, and the way he carried himself on and off the field. it all screamed that he was in control, always. And when you found yourself in a casual relationship with him, it was easy to slip into that mindset.

For weeks, it had been nothing more than stolen moments. Quiet, private conversations after practice, a few casual dinners here and there, and the occasional late-night texts. You were often there for him during his more emotional problems. You knew Rin wasn’t big on showing affection, and in return, you respected his boundaries. But in the back of your mind, you started to wonder if there was something more. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, but you couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at you, there was a flicker of something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to share.

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. You were enjoying the moments you shared with him, and that was enough, right? But as the days went by, something inside you told you that you wanted more. You had no idea how he would respond, but the thought of asking had you nervous.

You planned it all out. You’d wait for the perfect moment, maybe after one of his matches when his energy was high, and then you’d talk. Just the two of you, no distractions. You’d explain how you felt.You hoped he wouldn’t brush you off, maybe, just maybe, he’d feel the same way.

But of course, life had a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expected them.

It all started on a random afternoon when you were scrolling through your phone. You were at home, taking a much-needed break from work and from your thoughts of Rin. The screen flickered to a news headline that made your stomach drop.

"Rin Itoshi Goes Public with New Girlfriend—Is the Blue Lock Star Finally Settling Down?"

Your eyes went wide, and your heart skipped a beat. There, on your screen, was a picture of Rin and a woman, someone you had never seen before.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. Your mind raced as you scrolled through the article, each sentence tightening the knot in your stomach.

Was this it? Had you been just a casual fling for him all along? Was this the end of whatever bond you thought you had? The thought of Rin moving on with someone else. Someone so glamorous and perfect for him, of course. It lleft you feeling small and foolish. You had been planning to have that conversation, and now, it felt like everything was too late.

With trembling fingers, you dropped your phone on the couch and buried your face in your hands. It was the ultimate slap to your pride, the crushing reality that your feelings were never going to be returned the way you had hoped.

What had you been thinking? You had let yourself get carried away, fantasizing about something more than what was real. You had never asked him where you stood, and now it was too late to fix it. You laughed bitterly at yourself, feeling the sting of embarrassment.

The next day, you avoided Rin. You weren’t ready to confront him, not yet—not with the painful sting of the news still so fresh in your mind. It hurt more than you expected, this grief, and you needed space to think. You decided to take a walk, but somehow, your feet led you to the one place you always went when you were hurt—a quiet pond tucked away near the park.

You hadn’t expected to find him there.

As soon as you spotted him, your breath caught in your throat. You froze, a sharp pang of discomfort settling in your chest. You considered turning and walking away before he noticed you, but it was too late. He saw you.

"Y/n..." Rin's voice broke through the silence, and there was something in his tone that made you pause. Relief. You didn’t know how to explain it, but it was unmistakable.

You took a step back, instinctively wanting to retreat, but he caught it. Panic flashed in his eyes, and the urgency in his voice grew. “Don’t go.”

You stood still, unsure of what to say or do, as he closed the distance between you. The cool air felt heavier with the weight of the moment. Rin’s usual composure was gone. He looked almost vulnerable as he started to speak again.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it before. “The woman in that article... I’ve known her for a while, but we’re not dating. It was just a misunderstanding.”

You blinked, your mind racing to process his words. "Oh... okay."

You didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between you, thick with all the things unsaid. Now didn’t feel like the right time to voice your feelings, not with everything still so raw.

Rin seemed to sense your hesitation, though. He took a deep breath, his gaze steady but intense. "I think... we should be together."

Your heart skipped, confused by the sudden shift. "What?"

“I don’t like the thought of us not being together,” he continued, his voice firm yet vulnerable. He was a mess. His emotions were all over the place. He was so scared of messing this up with you. “So, will you...?”

You blinked again, unsure if you heard him correctly. “You’re asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His expression softened, the edges of his usual coldness melting away. “I am.”

You hesitated, the doubts swirling in your mind. "I don’t want to get hurt."

Rin stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that took you by surprise. “I promise, I won’t do that to you.”

You took a shaky breath, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "Okay."

As soon as you responded, he shocked you with a chaste kiss, his face heating up immedietly afterwards.

Seishiro Nagi

It had been an unusually calm week for you and Seishiro Nagi. Despite the usual chaos that surrounded him, whether it was from Blue Lock’s relentless competition or his fanbase constantly buzzing about his status, you and Nagi had settled into a nice routine. There was no commitment, no promises. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s company in a casual, laid-back way. He’d show up at yours some nights, you'd binge-watch youtube or play video games, and the occasional kiss was exchanged, but it was never anything too serious.

It was comfortable. Simple. And deep down, you felt like it was enough for you.

But lately? Lately, something has shifted. Maybe it was the way his hands lingered just a bit longer when they brushed yours, or the way his smile made your heart beat faster than it ever had before. He didn’t say it, but you could feel something brewing underneath the surface. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was time to talk to him about what this was, what you two were.

You stood in front of your mirror one morning, nervously adjusting your hair. The moment had to be right. You’d already rehearsed what you were going to say. “Seishiro, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could try something more serious?” The words sounded perfect in your mind, a perfect reflection of your growing feelings. No turning back now.

However, fate had other plans.

While scrolling through your phone that afternoon, you stumbled upon an article. The headline hit you like a ton of bricks:

"Seishiro Nagi Officially Goes Public with New Girlfriend!"

Your heart stopped. You felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Your hands trembled as you read the article further. There was Nagi, smiling in a photo with some unknown woman. The words “new girlfriend” loomed over the image like a cruel reminder that whatever you and Nagi had shared, whatever you had hoped for, wasn’t real.

You had been overthinking things. This was just a casual thing to him, wasn’t it? You’d misread everything.

Suddenly, the message you had planned to send him felt ridiculous. Why bother talking about getting serious when clearly, he was already with someone else?

At that moment, the emotional whiplash was too much. You needed space. You couldn’t face him. You locked your phone screen and pushed all thoughts of the conversation aside.

For the rest of the day, you tried to distract yourself. You threw yourself into your work, watched mindless videos, but it was all in vain. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw that headline. Your Nagi, someone you had been secretly falling for, was with someone else.

Meanwhile, Nagi had no clue that his whole world had just fallen apart.

He was sleeping soundly, sprawled out in his bed, his phone discarded on the nightstand.

The evening sunset pierced through his window as he blinked his eyes open, groggy but still content. He missed you, he wonderd if you were busy. A small smile tugged at his lips as he sent you a message. You always knew how to cheer him up after a long day.

But there was no reply.

Weird.

Nagi tilted his head, frowning as he locked his phone and stretched his arms above his head. He figured you were just busy or had fallen asleep early. Still, he felt a little disappointed. You two hadn’t played together in a while.

He got out of bed, grabbing a quick snack before going back to his room to play a few rounds of valorant on his pc. Yet, something gnawed at him, something felt off. He decided to call you.

But you didn’t pick up.

Weird.

He tried again. Still, no response.

Now, Nagi was starting to get that feeling in his gut. It wasn’t like you to ignore him like this. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed again.

This time, it was an article. The same one from earlier, only now it was everywhere. Nagi’s eyes widened as he saw the headline about him and the new “girlfriend.” He froze.

What the hell was going on?

His first instinct was to brush it off as some stupid gossip, but his feelings quickly turned into panic as he realized you must’ve seen the article.

You were sitting on your couch, trying to make sense of everything, when you heard a knock at your door.

Your heart skipped a beat. Part of you wanted to believe it was him, but the other half knew that was unrealistic. Even if he was here, you didn’t want to face him. Not like this. You didn’t want to explain the mess in your mind, the whirlwind of emotions, and the jealousy that had sprung up when you saw that article.

You opened the door and there he was. Nagi.

And before you could say anything, he kissed you—firmly, his lips pressing against yours in a way that made your mind go blank. His hand cupped your cheek, and when he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. He hoped you could feel all of his love for you through it.

“You’re mine. Not anyone else,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “That news article? Fake. All of it.”

You blinked, completely shocked. “What… what do you mean?”

Nagi sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what was going on until just now. I didn’t even realize you saw it. But I wasn’t with her. I was never with her. It’s all some stupid misunderstanding.”

You could hardly process his words. Your heart pounded in your chest, and suddenly the flood of emotions that had built up came rushing in. But before you could speak, Nagi kissed you again before pouting.

“Now that we’ve cleared that, can we play Overwatch?”

It was absurd. You were still trying to digest the fact that he’d kissed you that passionately and now he was asking to game? Your face was still red from the gesture.

“...Okay,” you finally muttered, still a little dazed.

“Good, I’ve missed playing with my girlfriend.” He smiled, ruffling your hair as he walked past you to get to your room. You almost choked. You’ve been his girlfriend? Since when?

Reo Mikage

You had always known your relationship with Reo Mikage wasn’t exactly typical, but that never stopped you from dreaming. Reo had a way of making everything feel effortless. He was charming, with an enigmatic allure that seemed to make everyone gravitate toward him. And yet, he always found a way to make you feel special. Whether it was through a text, spoiling you with gifts, late night walks, a shared glance during class, or a quiet dinner date at one of the many upscale restaurants his family frequented, Reo knew how to make you feel like you were the only one in his world.

You weren't from the same social circle as Reo, and that difference stung every time you allowed yourself to think about it. Reo was the heir to a vast fortune, a golden boy in the world of soccer, destined for greatness. His family’s wealth and influence were legendary. Meanwhile, you were just another girl trying to make it through school, scraping together money for lunch while juggling part-time jobs. You didn’t feel like you belonged in his world, even if Reo never seemed to care about that. He had a way of looking past the things that defined people’s worth in the eyes of the world. But the reality of your difference in status was something you couldn’t fully ignore.

It wasn’t as if Reo was outwardly dismissive about your life or background. No, Reo was sweet, considerate, and—frustratingly—always seemed like he genuinely enjoyed your company. But lately, you were starting to wonder if you had been kidding yourself. Maybe you were just another fleeting thing in his life, a distraction before he inevitably moved on to someone more suited for him. Someone from a wealthier, more established family. Someone who could fit seamlessly into his world.

That was why, after months of casually seeing each other, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed one evening, staring at your phone screen and rehearsing what you were going to say to him. You’d been thinking about it for weeks now. Maybe it was time to have the conversation, to ask him where you stood and if there could be something more between you. You had convinced yourself that it was the right time. Reo was always warm toward you, his touches tender and his words soft. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move.

But then, as you scrolled through your social media feed while absently flipping through notes for your upcoming exam, you saw it.

The headline nearly knocked the breath out of you: "Reo Mikage Goes Official with Korean Chaebol Heiress, Seung Hae."

Your heart dropped into your stomach as your finger hovered over the screen. Was this some kind of joke? You blinked twice, then read the article again. It showed pictures of Reo with a beautiful, tall woman at a high-profile event. Her arms draped around his, smiles exchanged, the kind of chemistry you never seemed to get from him.

The worst part? The woman was breathtaking, with long black hair, flawless skin, and a designer outfit that screamed money. Her family was a significant part of the Chaebol world in Korea, and she fit perfectly into the realm of Reo’s lifestyle. Someone his family would approve of.

A strange mix of anger, sadness, and embarrassment bubbled up inside you. You could feel your face flush with humiliation. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about the possibility of Reo seeing someone else, but this felt different. It felt real.

Reo had been so kind to you, so sweet, that you thought maybe you were building something together. But now it all felt like a lie. You had been foolish to think he could ever be serious about someone like you. Maybe this was his way of showing you that your relationship could never be more than a fleeting thing.

I guess I was just a phase, you thought bitterly.

The next day, you avoided Reo. It wasn’t easy, especially since he always found ways to pick you up after school or find a day to hang out but you kept your distance. Whenever he texted you, asking if you could meet, you came up with a vague excuse about needing to study or work. Every time your phone buzzed with his name, you winced.

But despite all your avoidance, Reo never seemed to give up. His persistence only fueled the fire of your insecurities. What could he possibly want from you now?

Then came the day he appeared at your school’s courtyard, standing by a bench, watching you from afar. His expression wasn’t one of frustration or confusion; it was one of pure determination. It was oddly nostalgic back from when he used to go to school here.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” he called out.

You froze, clutching your bag tighter as you forced a tight smile. “There’s nothing to talk about, Reo.”

“Don’t give me that,” he said, closing the distance between you. “You’re avoiding me, and it’s clear something’s wrong.”

Your breath hitched. You could feel the tears starting to prickle at your eyes as the weight of it all hit you.

“I saw the article,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw the pictures of you and her.”

Reo’s face paled for a second before his usual calm demeanor returned. He raised a hand, gently cupping your face. “Love,” he began, his voice steady. “She’s just a family friend.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked up at him, uncertain. “Then why was she wrapped around you like that? You and her, together like that... it didn’t look like business.”

“She was posed up like that with several other sons of prestigious families there. I promise you, you’re my only one.”

You swallowed, the tightness in your throat easing slightly. “But I’m not... I’m not like you. You have your world, Reo, and I’m just... me. It’s not the same.”

Reo stepped even closer, his eyes soft and focused on you. “You are my world, and that is more than enough for me. Don’t ever think it isn’t.”

The sincerity in his voice hit you like a wave, and suddenly the weight you had carried for so long felt like it was lifting.

“I’m sorry I didn’t explain it sooner,” Reo said, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “I should’ve told you about the event but I didn’t know the press would spin a story like this.”

“Oh”

Reo chuckled softly, his hands still gently holding your face. “I hope you know that you’re it for me, Y/n.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. This was real. In that moment, all your insecurities seemed to vanish. Maybe you didn’t come from the same world as Reo, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t share a future with him.

“Does that mean we’re together?” You asked.

“My heart was yours since the day we met.” He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

2K notes · View notes

kxsagi · 25 days ago

Text

“𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧”

a/n: everyone say thank you, landon! he hurt me and now i wrote angst. i’ll never forgive his bitchass for cheating on liz (yes i’m still mad about it) and i pray that she heals fast and thoroughly 🙏

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, bachira meguru, ness alexis

itoshi rin

he doesn’t say he misses you. instead, he shows it by keeping everything the same. your mug is still by the sink. your shampoo still in the shower.

he trains harder than ever, but there’s a hesitation in his eyes, like he’s searching for something beyond the net, like scoring without your "good luck" feels hollow.

he deletes your contact but memorizes your number. blocks you, but checks your socials with a burner. his pride won’t let him reach out, but gosh, he wants you to notice he’s suffering.

sometimes he thinks about bumping into you “by accident.” at a café. bookstore. anywhere. but he never goes because he’s scared you’ll already be with someone else.

he dreams of you. and in those dreams, you always leave again.

isagi yoichi

he blames himself. rewatches every conversation in his mind like game tape. where did i go wrong? where could i have passed better? loved better?

he still talks about you like you're part of his life. "she loves that song." "she would’ve liked this." even though the room goes quiet after.

he keeps every gift you gave him. your first silly drawing, the bracelet you made at some street fair. it’s tucked in his drawer like sacred things.

you told him once he overthinks everything, so now, ironically, he overthinks that, too. did you mean it as a joke? were you serious? were you already halfway out the door?

he wishes you’d just tell him you hate him. because silence is worse. silence is hope’s cruel cousin.

itoshi sae

he lets you go with a poker face. you’d think he didn’t care. but it’s the first time in years he misses a penalty kick.

he deletes your pictures. not because he doesn’t care, but because he does. too much. and seeing your smile in that yellow-tinted light makes his chest cave in.

he scrolls through your old texts when he's drunk. replies to them like you're still there. never sends them.

he never begs. never asks you to stay. but every time someone mentions your name, there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes, like grief dressed in quiet clothes.

he used to be bored of everything. now, he’s just tired. especially of pretending you didn’t matter.

kaiser michael

you were the first person to tell him he didn’t have to perform all the time. that you liked him even when he wasn’t loud, golden, brilliant.

he didn’t believe you. not really. until after you left. now the silence around him feels unbearable, like a stage with no audience.

he flirts more now. louder, emptier. it’s all performance, a desperate echo of who he used to be when you were around to bring him down to earth.

he keeps expecting you to walk in, roll your eyes, say "you’re so dramatic." but you never do.

sometimes, he talks to you when he’s alone. not the real you, the memory version. and she’s always a little kinder than he deserves.

shidou ryusei

he doesn’t cry. he doesn’t talk about it. but suddenly, the fire in him feels more like self-destruction than passion.

on the field, he’s a menace. fouls more. gets carded more. you were the only one who calmed him down, reminded him of softness. now there’s no balance.

people call him reckless. a lunatic. but they don’t know he’s trying to feel something. anything.

he won’t admit it, but your absence tastes like metal in his mouth. bitter. sharp.

sometimes, he punches the wall and pretends it’s not because he remembered your birthday and realized he has nowhere to send the gift.

mikage reo

he’s always had money, always had power. but losing you? it’s the first time he couldn’t buy his way out of pain.

he tells himself you’ll come back. that it’s just a break. that if he levels up, scores more, shines harder, you’ll notice.

goes to the places you loved together, always ordering your favorite drink and leaving it untouched. “just in case.”

he practices apologies in the mirror, over and over. never sends them. because every version feels too small for what he broke.

his smile is still perfect, still charming, but if you look too close, it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.

nagi seishiro

he doesn't understand why you're gone. he replays the breakup like a confusing side quest with no clear ending.

sleeps way more than usual. not because he’s lazy, but because dreaming of you is easier than being awake without you.

when he plays games now, he keeps losing. rage quits more often. "it's boring," he says. but it’s really because the person who used to sit beside him is missing.

keeps your shirt. cuddles it like a plush. doesn’t say a word when reo comments on it.

still texts you sometimes. “this meme reminded me of you.” “you’d laugh at this.” you never reply. he still sends them.

karasu tabito

he jokes more than ever. laughs louder. flirts harder. but his humor has a sharpness to it now, like he’s constantly daring the world to notice he’s hurting.

people say he's “the same as always,” but they don’t see him standing outside your apartment for 30 minutes just to walk away with a heavier heart.

started journaling again. you told him once that writing helped with healing. he writes like you’ll read it one day.

won’t admit it, but he plays dirtier now. more aggressive, less patient. “love made me soft,” he says. like it’s a curse.

he misses your voice. not just your words. the sound of you saying his name like it meant something.

bachira meguru

he paints you. over and over. sometimes with wings. sometimes with broken glass in your smile. always with love.

still talks to his "monster" about you. "you think she hates me now?" "do you think i scared her off?"

he’s still sunshine to everyone else, but when he's alone, the silence is suffocating.

your absence changed his art. darker colors. messier strokes. people praise his “emotional evolution,” but he just misses being happy.

he goes to the park where you first kissed and sits on the swing for hours. waiting. just in case you remember, too.

ness alexis

he always said you made him feel seen, not just as a shadow to kaiser, but as his own person. now that you’re gone, he forgets how to exist without comparison.

overcorrects. becomes louder, flashier, more dramatic. like if he’s impressive enough, you’ll regret leaving.

still wears the cologne you bought him. even though it makes him nauseous with memories.

he swears he’s over you. but the second someone mentions your name, his hands start to shake.

keeps your photo as his lock screen. “aesthetic,” he says. “nostalgic,” he means.

563 notes · View notes

everrinsly · 2 months ago

Text

life with rin vibes.

the utter objectification of rin's biceps.

biceps with rin. fluff. slight nsfw. very suggestive. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more reads!

~~~~~

Your first mistake was attempting to keep Rin company while he exercised—

"You wanna watch me, baby?"

He kissed your forehead softly before moving around the basement, collecting the scattered dumbbells from his sets the day before.

"Y-Yeah, I-I can keep you company," you stuttered, cheeks warm. Because even though you've been together for two years, he never failed to make your heart flutter.

He hummed. "You might get bored. You wanna watch something?" he asked, glancing back at the TV mounted on the wall.

"Mm... it's okay, Rin, I'll be fine—"

(Such lies).

—so now, you were here. On the floor, your back against the foot of the couch.

You should’ve looked away.

You really, really should’ve.

But the sight of Rin working out made you crumble—sweat glistening down his neck, sleeves shoved up over his shoulders, and those arms (let me repeat, those arms) were on full display as he curled the dumbbells like they were nothing.

Thick, veined, flexing with every movement.

You eyed him through your lashes, pretending to scroll through your phone, cheeks red, thighs pressed together like that might help the intrusive thoughts crawling through your mind.

(It didn't).

You bit your lip. The taste of your strawberry chapstick graced your tongue.

Rin didn’t speak. He rarely did during workouts. But you knew he was aware of you. The smug, silent... dangerous... kind of aware, like he could feel you watching him, soaking in every contraction of his biceps like you were starving.

And god—you tried not to imagine what it would feel like to sit on them. To grind on them. To ride—

(You failed. Miserably).

Your face burned hotter, red as a beet.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, finally. Casual, like he didn’t already know exactly what kind of nasty filth you were thinking.

You looked up quickly, snapped out of your trance but the feeling of heat in your core still lingering. “N-No.”

His eyebrow lifted, teal eyes scanning from your eyes to your bitten lips. “You sure?”

You nodded. "Mmhmm."

He didn't believe you.

He set the dumbbell down with a soft thud, stretching one arm behind his head—his bicep flexed, bulging, perfect. And fuck, you looked again. You couldn’t not (like it'd be rude to not stare).

Rin tilted his head.

“You’ve been staring at my arms for ten minutes,” he said, voice low and deep. “You wanna say something, pretty?”

You shook your head furiously, tucking your face behind your phone again.

He smirked.

“I’ll say it for you then, yeah?”

You froze. Well... shit.

“I know you think about it,” Rin said, voice dropping to that teasing hush that made your stomach twist. “Don’t pretend you haven’t imagined what it’d be like. Sitting on them. Grinding down. Making a mess while I flex for you.”

Your phone slipped out of your hands.

God—he loved watching your cute, flushed face scrunch up, so he continued.

"You're wet. Aren't you, baby." It wasn't posed as a question. It didn't need to be. Because he knew and you knew. It was a fact.

“I—!” you gasped, utterly mortified. “I d-didn’t—I mean, I—!”

He laughed softly, rising to his feet and stepping towards you. He towered over you now. You couldn’t even look at him.

Rin crouched down, tilting your chin up with one finger, his other arm flexing just barely. Taunting. Teasing.

"You think they're the perfect size too, huh? Perfect for riding. Because my thighs are just too big, right? Too big for your tiny pussy to get off on? So you wanna rock on my biceps instead, isn't that right, pretty baby?"

Holy shit.

You short-circuited, brain stopping completely, all mushy and melting.

He leaned in closer, nose brushing yours, glazed eyes trailing down to your lips.

“Sweet little thing,” he murmured. “So shy, but you’ve got the dirtiest imagination.”

Your face was on fire.

“Maybe...” he whispered, leaning in just enough to brush his lips on yours.

You held your breath.

“I’ll let you test that theory after I finish my sets. So... be a good girl and keep watching me."

738 notes · View notes

itoshiexx · 1 year ago

Text

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you.

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair.

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you.

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them.

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend.

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions.

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone.

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear.

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you.

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?”

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen.

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one.

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more.

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom.

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes.

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours.

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining.

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

4K notes · View notes

peaktora · 9 days ago

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ˚◞♡ ⃗ bluelock!boys

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ where they let the media believe the rumors about their so-called girlfriend

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊ ft. rin itoshi, seishiro nagi, and micheal kaiser. not proofread bc im too tired to do so. in rin’s part, you’re not actually dating (yet). beware of the tooth rotting fluff (gosh i need to write some angst).

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊man i got so carried away .. this was supposed to be a couple of quick headcannons for a character analysis. yet, individually these headcannons are all so long that they might as well be a one shot 😭 but enjoy !

𝜗𝜚₊˚ 𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you didn’t know much about his sport—only knew for certain that rin was good at it. he was passionate about his goals and made sure to reflect that in the games he played. whenever he won a game, it was practically an instinct for you to lavish him in compliments. you’d bathe him in things like “good job!” or tease him by saying, “look at you, all pro.” but for rin, winning wasn’t just about the final score on the scoreboard. it wasn’t simple. to him, a victory meant nothing if it wasn’t clean.

two goals. no errors. as he walked off of the pitch, rin replayed each shot in his head. his jaw was set tight, and his hair was irritably damp from sweat—the wind only helped it stick to his face. by now, the crowd should’ve died down, atleast a tone or two. yet, as he took a look at the crowd, he could still see people holding up their signs high for him to see. they were loud—obnoxious, even. he hated that he could still hear the crowd’s roars.

he didn’t look for you. not right away. not while the cameras were still following his every move, not while the spotlight was hot on his back and the (quite frankly: annoyingly persistent) reporters were shouting loads of questions at him from each of every direction. he wouldn’t risk putting you in that kind of attention—not when you both knew how quickly the media could twist up something as simple as a glance.

but that didn’t mean he didn’t know where you were.

he always knew.

you stood in the same spot after every game—half-hidden behind the media barricade. it was just far enough back to stay out of view, but always close enough for him to find you. hell, he was the one who recommended you this spot. and true to the routine, you were tucked into the sleeves of a hoodie far too big to be yours.

his hoodie.

it was always one of his, but never the same. at some point you made a game out of it.

somewhere down the line of you two’s friendship, it became a tradition that before his games, you’d come over to his apartment. just to hangout of course. yet somewhere in between the time you were together, when he wasn’t looking—you’d sneak into his closet, pick a hoodie of your choosing, and not tell him which one you’d taken. you liked keeping it a surprise. he never knew which hoodie had gone missing until he saw you wearing it the next day.

like now.

you stood just where he expected, pretending as if you hadn’t been waiting for him this whole time. you were wearing one of his favorite hoodies—it was gray, soft—and it’s sleeves swallowed your hands.

he would never tell you, but because of this gesture? but he loves game day. he can’t help but notice you.

and apparently the media noticed you just as much.

he didn’t care if they did. but he didn’t want them asking.

“mr. itoshi! just a quick one—” a reporter cut in, jogging alongside him with a mic already raised—talk about desperate. “two goals again. i mean, you’ve been unstoppable lately! what’s changed?”

rin didn’t slow his pace. “nothing.”

which isn’t necessarily true, but while his performance may be their business, his personal life is not.

you’d think the reporter would back off by now, yet he didn’t budge. he increased his pace. “right, right—but you can’t deny the fact there’s been a shift, no? all your fans are talking about it. you seem… calmer? more collected. more grounded, maybe?”

rin chose not to respond, hoping his silence would be enough to make the reporter give up. thankfully, it worked. the man slowed to a stop in favor of standing still, awkwardly watching as rin continued to walk away.

then it happened.

one of his teammates—loud and face holding a (god awful) smirk, slapped him on the back mid-walk.

“probably because of that girlfriend of his,” the guy pointed and laughed in your direction. “she’s been at every match. guess that makes a difference, huh?”

rin stopped walking.

before he could even say his side of the story, the camera had aimed itself towards you. you who were in his hoodie. you who looked at him for any idea on how to handle this situation. you who still stood in the spot he asked you to all those weeks ago—a spot that was supposed to be secure and safe. fuck, it feels like he failed you.

the reporter instantly lit up. he directed the cameraman towards rin, and they both made a jog to his side. “so, rin… a girlfriend? can you confirm?”

the only thing rin could do was blink. because, he could say no. he could shut it down. easy.

but memories of you flashed in his mind. you sitting on the couch waiting for him after late practices, folding his laundry without being asked, brushing the hair out of his eyes when he got too tired to care. never demanding. never asking for more than he could give.

you were the only person in the world who didn’t take his silence personally.

and now everyone wanted a label. a headline?

at the thought, he looked straight into the camera as he flatly said “no.”

the reporter hesitated to ask. “so… you’re not dating?”

“i mean i’m not commenting,” rin replied. “that’s different.” rin likes to think he never really needed a media team.

because with this answer, he didn’t have to explain. he didn’t have to clarify. and most importantly? he didn’t say no.

the interview wrapped quickly after that. the mic lowered when the reporter realized Rin wouldn’t give more. one by one, the crew dispersed.

and now, finally—finally—rin could openly walk towards you.

as soon as he was close enough, you smirked and said, “you didn’t deny it.”

he leaned against the barricade, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, “nope.”

“you could’ve just said i wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“i could’ve.”

for a while, silence filled the space before you now softly asked, “then why didn’t you?”

he exhaled through his nose, irritated—not with you, but with himself.

“i don’t like interviews,” he muttered.

“i know.”

“i don’t like assumptions either.”

“i know.”

“but i didn’t deny it,” he said, looking up at you, “because they weren’t wrong.”

you blinked, “huh? you do know we’re not even togeth—“

“i didn’t say anything,” he added, voice quiet now, “because i’ve never had to explain what you are.”

he heard your breath hitch.

“you’re something that i guess i hold…close to me. something that’s mine,” he said, more certain now. “if people assume that, i’m not going to correct them.”

you hummed, “so… you’re one hundred percent okay with them knowing?”

he nodded once. “i’m okay with them assuming.”

you smiled. it didn’t reach your eyes—it was that small, soft one that never failed to break him, and gently nudged his arm.

“y’know, you’re terrible at this.”

he groaned, “i’m trying here.”

“i know,” you giggled, slipping your fingers into his. “and that’s why it counts.”

𝜗𝜚₊˚ 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

nagi yawned and lazily scratched the back of his head. with the help of his sweat, his jersey clung to his back and his legs still burned from the run he didn’t even want to make for that last goal.

he let out a deep breath at the sight of a reporter pointing over to him. the match was barely over, and there was already duo—a cameraman and a reporter—hustling over to him.

within two seconds, he noted that this was a bother. the reporter was talking so fast, he could barely decipher what she was saying. the bright lights of the camera following him made his eyes sting. the game took so much energy out of him, he couldn’t even muster up a sentence if he’d wanted to. safe to say, this interview was not worth his time nor energy.

“nagi, you were just incredible tonight! that assist? it was just—just was insane—i mean no one saw it coming. what were you thinking in that moment.”

he rubbed his eye, muttering, “i wasn’t.”

following his words was a pause. the reporter nervously laughed, and like most—he’s sure that she assumes he was trying to land a joke. he wasn’t.

he spotted you standing on the sidelines, tucked off to the side. you gave him a wave, and he wiggled his fingers back as a response.

you looked so cute. so comfortable. all he wanted to do now was stand next to you and lean his weight against your shoulder. the only thing stopping him was a mic still being pointed at his face.

hm.

“right, well,” the reporter continued, “there’s a lot of talk about your change in attitude this season. you seem more focused motivated. the people are wondering: is there someone on the inside keeping you in check?”

nagi tilted his head. “huh?”

“like a girlfriend,” the girl clarified, a smile among her lips. “rumor has it that there’s someone important in the crowd tonight.“

the camera panned out to the stands and the surrounding area before nagi could say anything. straight to you. your smile wavered into a nervous chuckle, and a slight furrow creased your brows.

nagi followed the camera’s direction, gaze landing on you.

you’re so obvious.

for a second, he didn’t move. but then he shrugged—and he walked off.

the reporter fumbled. “w-wait—”

it was a lost cause. nagi’s mind was made up, he ignored the calls behind him and made his way towards you. reaching you, he lazily settled an arm around your shoulders.

he sighed dramatically, allowing his entire body weight to lean into yours. “you’re warm,” he mumbled.

you looked down at him “… you just walked out of an interview.”

“yeah,” he mumbled. “boring. but they asked about you.”

your heart did that weird little stutter. “they what?”

“kept saying girlfriend this, girlfriend that…” he shrugged. “i dunno…didn’t feel like lying.”

you stared. “you didn’t deny it?”

he turned his head slightly, chin resting against your hair. “why would i?”

“because we haven’t… told anyone?”

his fingers toyed with the hem of the sleeve.“feels like a lot of effort,” he replied. “lying about you. avoiding questions. hiding. ugh.”

you swallowed. “so you just… left?”

“figured it was easier to show ‘em.”

he leaned in, pressing his forehead against your temple.

“plus i wanted to see you,” he muttered.

you lips parted. “nagi…”

his thumb lightly brushed over your hand. “if you don’t want people to know i I won’t say anything,” he continued, voice quieter. “but ‘m not gonna act like you’re not mine when you’re standing right there.”

you locked your fingers with his.

“you’re mine too, right?” he asked.

you nodded.

“good.” he exhaled, eyes closing. “then i don’t get what the big deal is.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “you’re so lazy.”

“mm,” he agreed, “but i’d carry you off this field if it meant we didn’t have to talk to anyone else.”

he straightened up just enough to glance back at the crew still filming in the distance. that same lady from earlier was still talking. how much did she have to say? “think they’ll chase us if i just walk off with you?”

you snorted, “they definitely will.”

“how annoying,” he sighed. “let’s go anyway.”

𝜗𝜚₊˚ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

the crowd outside of the stadium could only be described as loud—obnoxious—and chaotic. but then again, when wasn’t it?

you signed at the sight, and slouched even further in the backseat of kaiser’s private car. you opened your phone to instagram—a mistake you knew not to make—but did it anyways.

instantly, a knot formed in your stomach. there it was again—those damn rumors. your feed was full of it. what caught your attention this time was a recent photo of you two. granted it was blurry, but you two were obviously close. it was taken the day he took you out shopping. he’d insisted on carrying all your bags, leaving your hands free. you were thankful for that—especially when you suddenly heard saw a flash of a camera, allowing you to quickly raise your hands to shield your face.

the headlines were relentless:

“michael kaiser’s mystery girl—exactly who is she?”

“has the emperor found his queen?!”

when kaiser asked you about revealing your relationship to the public, you told him to be careful. to keep things quiet. private. in response, he only grinned at you like he always did when he planned on doing the opposite. and you hoped, you really hoped he would listen.

sighing, you opened up the sports app and began to watch the live post-match feed of what was going on outside.

on screen, the cameras zoomed in on kaiser walking out from the locker room tunnel. surrounding him were his security members. his hair was messy, his jersey was slung over his shoulder, and he had that arrogant smile on his face.

you made a mental note to tell him how he should seriously consider getting that patented.

reporters called out his name left and right—to which, he paid no mind to. it’s only when one says, “you’ve been seen with the same girl three times in the past two weeks—the mall, hotel lobby, even at the training grounds. does she happen to be your girlfriend?” that he gives them a reaction.

still walking, he flashed a slow smirk as he adjusted his sunglasses. “you people really don’t get tired, huh?”

“is it true?” another voice pushed through. “are the dating rumors real?”

kaiser stopped just for a second—it was just long enough for every mic to shove forward.

you leaned closer to your phone. he wouldn’t. he can’t be serious. he wouldn’t, right? he wouldn’t—

his grin widened. “if i had a girlfriend, i’d show her off every chance i got.”

almost as if the entire thing was staged, a chorus of gasps and shouts erupted from the crowd.

“but is that a yes?!”

he shrugged. “i try to not make a habit of denying good taste.”

then, he waved his way through the crowd. so casually too, as if he didn’t just obliterate the entire internet.

seconds later, the door to the car opened and you watched as he slipped in.

“you didn’t deny it,” you say. although it’s more of a question than anything.

he reached up to pull off his shades. “hm, should i have lied?”

“i thought we agreed to keep it…y’know…lowkey?”

kaiser laughed, then leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. “you think i’d let them call you a ‘mystery girl’? that’s boring. pretty girl is better.”

you pushed him away, “kaiser—”

“i would say liebling is even better but that’s reserved for me.” he pulled you closer, one arm slung around your waist with ease.

“kaiser—“

“shhh. i didn’t even say your name. ‘jus gave ‘em enough to sweat.”

you squinted at him. “so what am i, then?”

he smirked, pushing a kiss to your cheek. “the emperor’s girl.”

your phone buzzed like crazy, notifications from every app you owned. kaiser didn’t just not deny it—he made sure the whole world hoped it was true.

808 notes · View notes

lostazuree · 13 days ago

Note

heyy lostazuree!! i saw your requests are open so i’m here with a lil bllk idea 😌 you can pick whoever you want, but if you could add chigiri and kunigami i’d love u forever 🥺💗

so like—reader’s a virgin, totally inexperienced but curious about making love, and they want the bllk boys to be their first. they trust them and just really wanna experience it with them, and the boys are 100% down to show them exactly how it’s done 😮‍💨😌🔥

also your fics?? INSANE. like actually unreal. i don’t know how you do it but they’re always so hot and addictive 🔥 pls make sure you're taking care of yourself too though!! rest, hydrate, all that—your comfort matters too 💕 thank u for feeding us always!!!😘💋

𖦹₊˚✗౨ৎ— First Time.ᐟ

ᯓ♡-Friends to something more?

✦ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ ʙᴏʏꜱ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Losing your virginity to your best friend! Soft, fluff-ish smut, NSFW, Implied confession at the end!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: Michael Kaiser, Kunigami Rensuke, Chigiri Hyoma, Itoshi Rin, Isagi Yoichi.

ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇʀ .ᐟ

You were sprawled out on his bed, lazily twirling your fingers around your hair, consumed in your thoughts: Damn, Micha's neighbors are loud as hell, I can hear them across the walls. You thought, while he stood infront of his mirror, drying his hair with a towel, another wrapped around his waist, having returned from a shower. You wondered if he was thinking the same too, till a voice disrupted your thoughts. "Yeah! Pound into her harder, We're cheering." and you froze. Did this man just..?!

And after that, the noises stopped, due to embarrassment or semblance of dignity. "So fucking loud." He said with a casual smirk while you looked at him wide eyed, "Micha, what the actual fuck?" you asked, flustered, he shrugged. "What? You wanted to hear them moan more?" No, surely not, you were...imagining, imagining how it must've felt like. "I bet it was good if she was this loud.." you blurted without a thought and he raised an eyebrow, "Sure. Sounded like rabid animals.", you huffed out at his incredulous attitude, "You say like you can do better.", he cut you short, "I can, could show you if you want.", He said, of course he was joking, but you definitely hoped he wasn't, you wanted that. "I've never done it before.." He looks at you, still holding the towel, "Can see that, and I was just kidding, but if you don't mind-", "I don't." His eyes widened as he registered, and of course, he needed further explanation. But look where that got you? Caged beneath his arms as he leaves hickies down your neck, lips traveling further down, your gasps while he works his tongue truly make him rethink how lucky he is, while he's pounding into you, letting you feel him, not too rough, but throbbing with restraint. He's sure now his neighbors would be the one to be bothered, he doesn't mind. He lets you know exactly how you should be fucked, no, made love to. Gripping your thighs while his dick plunges in and out, your sputtered gasps and moans punctuating his movements fueling him. By the time he's done, he can't help but look at you, his heart fluttering more at the sight than the actions, his arm wrapping around you lazily, zoned out. "What'cha thinkin'?", "You." He whispered, diving in for a kiss far sweeter and lasting. "Us." and he realises how much he wants to be the only one who sees you like this. "Mhm, us."

ᴋᴜɴɪɢᴀᴍɪ ʀᴇɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ (Pre-W/C) .ᐟ

You two were lounging in your living room, he had come over like the usual. He was shitting on one of his friends, whom he caught fucking a girl in the restroom. "Can you believe that? That bozo thought no one would find out." You listened in, wondering how it all really feels like..sex, you mean. "I've never done it before." You blurted while zoning out in your not so divine thoughts. He raised an eyebrow as he looks at you while you continued, "And I wanna know how it feels like." you said like it's the most natural thing ever. He looks at you, blink, blink, blink, before a flush creeps up his neck. "Good for you, i guess." He coughed out. Boldly, very boldly you snapped your head towards him, "Rensuke, Can we do that?" And he froze, genuinely. Kunigami.exe has stopped working. He asked you why you wanted to do it with him, and very innocently you explained that you trusted him the most, and you want him to be your first, because..reasons. Soon enough, you were under him on your couch, he hovered over you with slight hesitation, "Are you sure, (Y/N)?" He asked you in a hushed tone, hoping you wouldn't turn away now, and of course, you didn't. He lifted your shirt up, tossing it away before he did the same to his, sliding his hands down your body, adoringly, wanting to make this session the best. He whispers praises in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, and that he'd definitely wanted this. His mouth finds it's way on your neck, trailing kisses down from your collarbone to chest, hands spreading your legs apart, "Tell me to stop when it gets too much." And gets lost just as much as you do, spreading you apart as he pushes his inches in, slowly, and you see stars just by the size, gripping onto his shoulders. After like hours of getting dicked down by him, "Rensuke...thanks..", his arm tightens around your waist as he pulls you over his chest, "I think I..", "Yes. Me too, Ren." That got him redder than the sex.

(Note: I think post w/c Kunigami would be the same, just less talking, less blushing and more faint smiles.)

ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ ʜʏᴏᴍᴀ .ᐟ

You're at his place, sat on a stool as he's deciding his flamboyant hairstyle, while you two are bitching about your friends getting railed at clubs like another friday, "Seriously, can't imagine being such a hoe." He flipped his hair lazily, since he knew you were eyeing it. "Can't imagine...I've never done it before." and he shoots you a not-so-amused gaze from the mirror with a sassy, "Don't you think I can tell?" Borderline offensive but he's just being upfront. "Wow, Princess. Who hurt you?" You retorted and he just smirked, rolling his eyes. God, he looks so great, hair scattered-no. You cut your thoughts off. "I kinda wanna try it though.", you admitted, looking at the mirror at his reflection and he just hummed, "Well, you could always go-..", you cut him off sharply, sheepishly, "With you, Chigiri." His hairtie snapped as he did an animated turn towards you. Then again, after a little admission from your side, he agreed, because that is something he wanted, but thought the better. Things escalate fast with Chigiri, if you didn't know. He is soo deliberate with his actions, even whispering in your ear, describing what he's doing to your body, absolute 4K experience. He lets you grip his hair as he lowers himself into you, liking the way your hands felt on his head. He kisses you over and over, deep, purposeful, like he's trying to engrave himself to your brain, he lets you breathe between the thrusts, not wanting to overstep on the first time, hands gripping your waist and breast, his eyes falling onto your disheveled state, and he realises, he likes this, not just this, but everything, he doesn't see himself anywhere else at the moment. His movements are so worshiping, yet absolutely ruining your weeping cunt while he lowers in, his own body shaking as your nails dig into him. After he's done, "Hey, you good, hun?" and he realises what he said a little too late, his mouth now shut, yet when you giggle at that, his lips twitch into a soft smile, and the next kiss you get, speaks a lot more than what he could phrase Maybe he does want you to be the one who gets to hold him like this, more often, always.

ɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ ʀɪɴ .ᐟ

You're both on his couch, tucked under a blanket, popcorn in hands as you two watch a horror movie only he's interested in, as you're in your own little wonderland when some lewd scene plays out. "Ew, tch. Don't know why every movie now has to be pornographic." He comments with a deadpan, eyes flicking over to you and he notices. He notices you've been staring at the scene for far too long. "Stop gawking at it like a virgin.", And your head snaps towards him, "Well, because I am one. I've never done it before. Let a girl dream, experience." And guess what? His dense ass after a little admission starts..verbally explaining sex. "No, Rin, like-..like the real thing. Let's do that." And he's blushing furiously, he genuinely doesn't understand why you'd wanna do it with him, not that he minds. He'll show you exactly what it means to have a good time. His bed is neat as he lays you down, sliding both your and his clothes off, his hands raking over your skin like he's memorizing every inch, like he may not get another chance. He whispers you assurances that are so sweet, so unlike him, he just wants to make you feel good, good with him, and only him. He's giving you full verbal explanations like he's teaching how to sin, spreading your legs, pressed against your entrance as he holds you. "Now, I'm gonna-" he cuts himself off with a thrust, your gasp syncing with his grunts as he brushes your hair away. He likes this a lot more than he'd say. As he's trenching deeper, he tells you how pretty you look, and actually tells you how giddy this is making him feel. Now he's the one acting like a virgin. When he's done after hours, you are marked red thoroughly, back aching, but he volunteers for a massage as you two talk it out, and for once, he doesn't care about his ruined sheets. "You were...amazing. Any guy would be lucky to have you, to be with you." The words tasted bitter in his mouth as soon as the last sentence left his lips, you could feel his grimace. "I guess you're really lucky then.", you finally said something you've been meaning to, your chest a little lighter. His eyes widen, before just a faint, imperceptible smile crosses his lips, "You're right, maybe I am, extremely lucky. And I'd like to keep it that way."

ɪꜱᴀɢɪ ʏᴏɪᴄʜɪ .ᐟ

You're at your place with Isagi, of course he's shooting a football while you two trash talk about some of his teammates. "Yeah, like, he is so bitchless, I swear. No way he ever got laid before." and his comment, which was supposed to make you giggle, reminds you that you, never got laid as well. So you very boldly admit it infront of him, "Well, I never got to do it too.", and his feet halted, stopping the ball as he looks at you, slightly flustered and sheepish as he clears his throat, "That's not a bad thing-" and of course, you cut him off. "I wanna change that." And during this whole conversation, he's praying for the ground to swallow him. "That's-..that's great! I hope you you-" "With you? Maybe? If you're-", and he blurts out immediately before realising, "What? Of course." And you both stare at eachother for a while in disbelief of your own words. He asks you over and over if you're sure while he carries you to the bed, "Push me away when it gets too much.", He says, and he's hoping you'd let him show you just how well he can do you. He hovers over you, lips crashing against yours as his hands knead your mounds as he's whispering some absolutely, insanely filthy shit in your ear, his thrusts are slow, yet slightly bruising, his mind hazy from the way your nails rake his shoulders, tug at his hair, and soon enough, it hits him on how much he really wanted this, how much he thought about this before, how he wished you'd let him hit—but now, he wants something more than that, something real and not fleeting. He wants to be the only one who holds you like this. He's thriving on your sounds, they're so unfiltered, so unpracticed, he's enjoying this more than he'd admit. When he's done, you two are a mess of tangled limbs, and he still insists on kissing you. But the way he holds you is so unhurried, so soft, like he's silently praying you get the message. "I don't understand." Liar. You do. "You're so mean." he whines with a blush and a small smile. "I love you too."

OMG SWEETHEARTTT 😭 😭 I LOVE YOU SM. You don't know how much this means to me. You are sooo sweet, I feel giddy when I read such compliments. Thank you sooo much for your words, genuinely so heart touching. It makes me feel sm better about my works, ILYSM anon, take care of yourself too. 💋 💋 I wrote more of a fluffy smut since I'm suffering from a writers block. 😭

Thanks for reading!

Reblogs would be highly appreciated! 🎀

504 notes · View notes

airybcby · 1 month ago

Text

જ⁀♡⊹｡° it was like slow motion

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — go listen to the moment i knew by taylor swift right now

♡ word count — 1.5k

♡ content — sae x fem! reader, all characters 18+, made sae friends with most characters, mention of smoking (once), bad bf! sae, it's readers birthday, reader having no "real" friends, sae forgets readers birthday AND party, angst

♡ synopsis — you looked beautiful for someone who was abandoned on their birthday by the one person you wanted there. and you weren't sure if you could take any more.

── .✦ what do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn't show?

You were never someone who asked for much.

Especially not from him.

You knew who Sae Itoshi was when you fell in love with him.

You understood what came with dating someone whose eyes were always trained forward—on the goal, on the next game, on some impossible version of greatness only he could see.

But still, you thought you’d earned today.

Just today.

Not even all of it. Just the evening.

Just one promise he made this morning, murmured through sleepy lips while tugging his sweatshirt on, half-focused and half-yours.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You believed him.

You always do.

The party starts at 7:00.

By 7:40, most of the people are here.

Except him.

The apartment fills with a kind of hum—music, laughter, clinking glasses—and none of it sounds like yours.

You weave through bodies carrying trays of food and half-wilted party favors, your smile fixed and tight like a ribbon pulled too hard.

You barely hear the “Happy Birthday!”s anymore. They don’t mean much when they come from strangers—strangers who know you only as Sae’s girlfriend.

They come because he invited them weeks ago, told them “she’s planning something chill, just show up.”

And they did.

And he didn’t.

By 8:00, you’ve checked your phone seven times.

No messages. No missed calls. No “I’m on my way.” Not even a “Sorry, I’ll be late.”

The screen dies in your hand, finally surrendering to all the anxious flicks of your thumb. You put it face-down on the kitchen counter and open a bottle of wine you were saving.

It’s a celebration, right?

It’s supposed to be.

You keep yourself busy—refilling snack bowls, cleaning up spills before they stain the rug, making small talk about games you only half-understand.

Your dress is starting to choke you, the shoes pinching by now, but you keep moving.

If you sit down, you’ll think.

If you think, you’ll feel.

And if you feel…

No. Not yet.

The cake stays on the dining table.

Untouched. Intact. Like you.

Three candles, one for each year you’ve spent together.

You thought it’d be poetic. Sweet. Maybe even romantic.

You imagined him lighting them with that quiet smirk of his, teasing you for getting sentimental.

You imagined him singing—badly, off-key—while holding your hand under the table.

Instead, Otoya lights a joint in your bathroom, and Karasu sings something loud and off-beat from the hallway while someone throws popcorn at him.

Your birthday is a blur of people trying their best. And none of them are him.

You laugh at jokes that don’t land. You accept hugs that feel like bandages. You nod along to stories that aren’t about you.

And still, every time someone walks in late, your heart leaps.

Maybe this time.

But the door never opens for him.

At 9:23, Rin appears beside you.

You didn’t expect him to come. He’s not the social type. But he hovers near you now, quiet and heavy like an unspoken truth.

“You okay?” he asks eventually.

You nod. It’s a lie, but it’s an easy one.

Rin doesn’t press. Just looks at the cake and then back at you.

“You want to light them now? People are waiting.”

You shake your head. “He’s not here yet.”

Rin’s eyes linger on you for a moment. You can tell he wants to say something.

Maybe He’s not coming.

Maybe You deserve better.

But he doesn’t. He just steps back and lets the silence do the talking.

You wish someone would say it out loud. Just rip the bandage off.

He’s not coming.

He forgot.

He chose something else over you.

Again.

At 10:08, the party dies naturally.

Karasu helps gather the trash.

Otoya kisses your cheek and says you still look hot for someone abandoned on her birthday.

You laugh. It sounds hollow, but it passes for humor.

Someone tells you to save them a slice of cake. You nod, though you know you won’t.

You can’t imagine cutting it without Sae here.

And when the last person leaves, when the apartment door finally clicks shut behind them—

You are alone.

Utterly, achingly alone.

The cake is still there. The candles, still unlit.

Your dress crumples as you sit down on the couch, arms wrapped around yourself, trying to hold something in—tears, hope, the sharp sting of understanding.

This was the one thing you asked for.

The one day.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world

You lean your head back and stare at the ceiling.

Maybe the world called louder.

At 11:43, the door opens.

You don’t look up. Not right away. You know that sound too well.

The key in the lock. The soft scrape of shoes on the mat. The sigh.

You turn your head slowly.

There he is.

Sae, in his training jacket, hair damp from a shower, duffel bag slung over his shoulder like this is any other day. Like he’s just coming back from work. Like this is normal.

His eyes sweep the room—over the mess, the balloons, the faint outline of people who were once here but are gone now.

His gaze stops on you.

Then the cake.

And you can see it.

The moment he realizes.

The way his shoulders fall slightly, the regret that flickers too late.

“I tried to make it,” he says.

You don’t move.

“I got held up—”

“Don’t,” you say, voice quiet, steady. “Please don’t.”

He stops mid-sentence. You can hear him swallow it down.

You stand up, slowly, the hem of your dress brushing your ankles as you do.

“I told everyone you were probably just stuck in traffic. That you’d be here. That you’d walk in at the last second like in the movies.”

You laugh under your breath, and it sounds more like a sob.

“I kept looking at the door like an idiot.”

Sae says nothing.

You look at him now—really look at him—and all you can see is a promise broken so gently it almost doesn’t leave a scar. But it does.

It will.

“I didn’t need a grand gesture,” you whisper. “I didn’t need flowers or surprises. I just… needed you to show up.”

And he didn’t.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it?

You can’t keep loving someone who keeps making you feel like this.

Like your needs are unreasonable.

Like your expectations are weight.

Like your love is something optional.

You don’t cry.

Because this is the moment.

The exact moment you knew:

You’ll always be the one waiting.

And he’ll always be the one chasing something else.

The silence stretches, thick with all the things you wish he’d say but know he won’t.

Sae steps further into the room, slowly, like he knows he doesn’t belong here anymore.

His gaze flickers again to the cake—still untouched, still waiting—and he opens his mouth.

“Traffic—”

Your eyes close.

“Training ran late—”

A breath escapes you, heavy and trembling.

“Coach just—”

“Sae.”

Your voice stops him like a wall.

You lift your head and meet his eyes, mascara slightly smudged beneath your lashes, your gaze glassy, distant, and unbearably tired.

“I just want the truth.”

For a moment, he looks at you like he wants to give it.

And then, quietly—so softly you almost miss it—he says:

“...I forgot.”

And your world splits open.

You don’t flinch, don’t scream.

There’s no dramatic breakdown. Just the softest, stillest silence—so loud it rings in your ears.

Because you knew, didn’t you?

Somewhere deep down, buried beneath all your hopeful excuses and quiet reassurances.

You knew.

But hearing it—hearing him say it, standing in the wreckage of your birthday, the only day you asked for—

It guts you.

Like a knife twisted slowly.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he breathes out, reaching toward you like that means something now.

You shake your head.

“No,” you whisper. “It’s fine, just… just—”

Your voice catches, and you swallow it down.

You look at him then, really look.

For a split second, it’s like the years rewind.

Like you see the boy who used to text you after every game, who kissed your forehead before long flights, who held your pinky like it was sacred.

Apologetic.

Meaning it.

In love with you too.

But it’s not enough.

Not anymore.

You step back.

“I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

He stares at you, eyes wide. “What—?”

“And in the morning…” Your voice cracks, a choked whisper. “I’m leaving.”

Something in him breaks.

You see it. You feel it.

He moves forward again, reaching like he could hold you here with his hands alone.

“No. Please, I—”

“I can’t…” you say, tears finally slipping down your cheeks. “I can’t keep waiting for you, Sae. I won’t.”

It’s not just about tonight.

It’s about every time he made you feel like you were asking for too much when all you wanted was him.

You step past him, slow and quiet, and disappear down the hall, leaving him in the soft wreckage of what could’ve been.

He stays in the kitchen for a long time, unmoving, staring at the cake with three unlit candles.

Outside, the city keeps moving.

Inside, all that’s left is a silence that tastes like regret.

airy write sae a happy fic for once challenge GO!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato ❀ @kiyy0mei ❀ @x3nafix ❀ @sugacor3 ❀ @ohagiyoo ❀ @reigensuperstar ❀ @nevvynevnev ❀ join the taglist here !

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk sae #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #bllk sae itoshi #sae angst #sae x reader fluff #itoshi sae x reader

491 notes · View notes

saetiate · 2 months ago

Text

itoshi rin x f!reader smut, portal sex, lowk witchcraft (sigils mean that his sex toy = your pussy basically), very slight semi-public don't get caught stuff (you don't actually get caught), oral f!receiving, p in v word count: 1.75k author's note: please save me i'm deranged

Rin has loved you for years.

He twists his phone in his hand, your contact name right at the top of his notifications. Just thinking about confessing to you has his insides turning, makes him want to slam his head into the nearest wall. He'd rather waterboard himself than say something.

He almost runs into the old lady that holds a hand up to stop him in his tracks.

She tells him that he "seems to be in a bit of a predicament," which he doesn't get at all. But then he looks up as she lead him into a little store right next to a sex shop, handing him something in one hand, the other hand holding up the little machine for making a payment.

Imagine her whilst you use this.

That's easy enough. He's been imagining having you for years. Memorized what your laugh sounds like, twinkling windchimes; how your face looks when you smile.

The toy part is new though. He turns it around. There's a little image near the base of it, like a drawing of some sort.

God, this is so dumb. He knows it even as he lays down in bed and closes his eyes. But then he finds himself all-too-easily imagining your thighs clasped around his head, the taste of you fresh on his tongue.

You're at work when it starts.

You're in the pantry getting a necessary pick-me-up coffee between lunch and the end of the work day when you start to feel something between your legs that makes all your movements stop. Something that has wetness blooming immediately. You try to shake it, keep the thought boxed up in the back of your mind, but you- you can feel it. Can feel something between your legs even when you know logically there's nothing there.

The only thing you know is you've got to get out of here. Away from your coworkers and their gossip session in the corner, the girl kicking the printer at the end of the corridor as you stumble into your office. You quickly pull on the blinds to shut them, only half-registering locking the door before you're falling into your seat.

What the fuck.

It feels like a searing hot, wet tongue is cleaving right between your folds. Your hand clamps around your mouth with a slap, hyperaware of the feet you can see walking by your office right at the bottom of your blinds. Hyperaware that anyone could still knock, have a question or need an update.

You've always been glad to have your own office, but you've never been quite so grateful now. When your legs are clasped together so tight they ache, and slick drips down your cunt.

The worst part might be that the only person that's running through your mind throughout all this is Rin.

Rin, who you've known for years. Who has been a stable friend. Who you know is attractive to the point of model-beauty, successful and busy and you're being forced to come to terms with the fact that this is not the first time you've thought of him like this. Clear blue eyes that peek past your inner thighs and lap at your cunt with so much fervor you're almost embarrassed.

You swear you can feel the tap of the tip of his tongue over your clit, the precise way it circles around that has you leaning over your desk, gripping it tight. It's a miracle you haven't made a loud enough sound to disturb. You feel the wave of your orgasm coming to you fast. How long has it been since you've had someone eat you out so vigorously? How is it so clear in your mind to the point where you can feel every movement, unpredictable even to you?

You feel a tongue lap over your clit again and again, the noise of the office outside turned background as the coil in your gut turns tight and you're keening over, coming hard in your chair, so wet you're half worried about whether it's seeped through your work clothes.

You think that's it, and then —

It gets so much worse.

You can feel something entering you, a hardened phantom-cock that slides past your wet folds with ease, every inch sinking in. You squeal behind your hand, shutting your eyes tight.

This you can't just be imagining, not when you can feel the stretch of your pussy accommodating for what's entering you. It slides back out of you just a little before pushing in even further, so big it feels like it's bullying you. You think you can almost feel the warmth radiating off of it from between your legs.

You can't help but moan when you finally reach what you think (hope) is the base, cock head pressed so deep in you that you feel stuffed full.

Rin half-thinks he's losing his mind, crazy with how hot and wet what is supposed to be a toy feels as he slides it over his cock. Are sex toys supposed to feel like this? It's so tight around his cock, contracting on its own, he feels like he's being pushed out. He tries to pull out just a little, only to feel like he's being sucked in instead. Like even you can't decide how you want him.

He gives in to his own temptation, pressing in despite the way it feels like a vice wrapped around his cock, and resistance gives way to slick, wetness dripping over and coating his member.

He feels dizzy with need as he presses in close, until the toy is around the whole of his cock, right at the base, the head of his cock hitting the back of it. Everything is warm and wet as he can't help the way his hips thrust up into it anyways.

You feel the phantom cock lodge deeper inside you even as you mentally beg to no one that you're so full, that there's no way you can take any more.

The way it fucks into you is with an intensity you've never experienced before, pressing into you over and over again. Your heart beats fast in your chest; the thrusts a little too fast, too deep to what you're used to. You want them to slow down and keep going all at once, slumping over your desk in a silent scream.

He imagines you in different ways, clear like sunlit water, something that both scares him and makes his dick throb. Underneath him, pressing your thighs close to your chest, slamming into you with his mouth against the column of your neck, and then lapping up your sweat in the valley between your breasts. On top of him, his hands on your waist as he brings you up and down over his cock.

All Rin can think about is how good it feels, your pussy wrapped around his cock. How you'd look under him, flushed and pretty. He wants to drop his head in the crux of your shoulder, breathe you in, listen to you moan and whine. He can feel your slick drip down his cock, how you're clenching around him so hard it makes him hiss and grit his teeth.

"Fuck," the words leave him in a heated exhale. "Gonna-"

The way his cock fucks into you is so pointed, something that feels like lithe fingers circling your clit until stars burst into your vision. Another heated hand feels seared to your side, pulling you down over his cock.

Your hand is wrapped around your mouth so tightly, afraid to make a noise, your breath coming hard and fast as starlight sparks up your spine, a desperate mewl leaving the back of your throat.

Hearing Rin groan next to your ear, more real than you have ever imagined before — that has you crashing hard into an orgasm.

Rin feels your walls get impossibly tighter around him. He wants to see you like this in reality. Wants to see if you really arch your back in exact way he's imagining, wants to press a long kiss to your lips as his hot breath pants over your skin.

Your cheek pressed against his cheek, saying his name. The details all come together. An embarrassing dream he will never admit to anyone, something as soft as his name on your lips and your skin pressed against his, enough to run him entirely speechless, making him rut into the toy, and has him spilling into it.

Fractured breaths make their way up your throat as you come to your senses, spell like a fog descending and dissipating into the ground.

You're in your office. You can make out the click-clacking of keyboards outside the room, light chatter, the sound of your emails coming in.

Oh, fuck. How long were you out for? You can feel the mess between your legs, your pussy both is dripping and isn't, your slick soaking your panties, damp against your inner thighs.

But somehow it's… not as much as you initially thought it was? How it felt?

Your hands find your phone before you can think it through, tapping Rin's contact, something both impulsive and natural.

Rin's vision finally blinks into reality, the vision of you still like a lingering dream, toy still in his hand. He touches the inside of the toy curiously, a finger tracing the inner wall.

He swears it didn't feel like that when he had his dick inside of it. It felt softer, warmer, slick with need.

Whatever. He probably just imagined it, in his insanity of want for you. He cleans the toy out and chucks it in a box, a dark hidden corner where he doesn't have to see the scam he bought ever again.

And then his phone starts buzzing.

He picks up on fifth ring, after the shock leaves his system.

"Rin?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat, gulping down the emotions he brought up just moments ago.

"Hey! Hey, um. Haha. So I get off work in like, just over an hour ish? Do you wanna- um," he swears your voice sounds almost shaky, out of breath. "Do you wanna get dinner or something? I mean, it's been a while since we met up, hasn't it? And you're like, off-season or something, right?"

Rin spins around to eye where he just threw the toy.

"Yeah." His back hits the wall behind him, a small, soft smile tilting up the corners of his mouth just slightly. "Okay."

hi hello here's the rin version! so the diff between the sae and rin versions is that rin isn't really thinking about why or how this is happening in the moment HAHA he's much more pleasure chasing than sae going what the actual hell is happening and continuing anyways :> OKAY sorry for the wait for this and i hope you enjoyed!!!

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #fragments of memories #fragments of memories: fic #fragments: bllk #fragments: bllk: rin #x reader #blue lock x reader

549 notes · View notes

itoshiierae · 2 months ago

Text

when you accidentally say you hate them ⊹˚.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: rin itoshi, sae itoshi, oliver aiku, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

ᡣ𐭩 notes: not proofread! finished this entire drabble in 30 minutes heh

ᡣ𐭩 cw: angst, hurt with no comfort, (technically it’s not considered ‘accidental’ for oliver’s lol)

update: here’s part two <33

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

౨ৎ RIN ITOSHI ౨ৎ

you didn’t mean it.

you were tired, frustrated, and his silence always made you feel like you were losing a battle you weren’t even allowed to fight.

“maybe i hate you, rin. ever think of that?”

it was quiet. too quiet.

he didn’t blink, didn’t even flinch, but instead he just stared at you like something inside him had quietly… cracked. and then he said, voice flat:

“...okay.”

he turned away, walked down the hall and headed straight to the guest bedroom in your shared apartment. he didn’t slam the door, but he didn’t look back at you either. you waited in the hallway all night hoping he’ll come out but he never did.

he didn’t come out to turn off the lights or brush his teeth, not even when you waited in the kitchen after cooking his favourite meal just incase he got hungry. but mostly, you waited because you wanted to apologise for whatever that went down between the both of you earlier.

and somehow, his silence hit harder than anything else ever could.

──★

the next morning, you found his breakfast note on the coffee table.

[ “didn’t know if you’d want me around today. left early. don’t worry about it.” ]

and just like that — you hated yourself instead.

౨ৎ SAE ITOSHI ౨ৎ

it was the kind of argument that you thought would eventually blow over. but then it accidentally slipped out —

“i hate when you act like this — no… i hate you sometimes.”

you wished you could take it back, but it was already too late. the second you said it, the air froze. the tension between you grew heavier — thicker than it had ever been, if it wasn’t already before.

sae blinked once. then laughed — it sounded more reflex than real. there was no curve to his mouth. no softness in his expression. just that same unreadable stillness like he’d frozen mid-thought and didn’t care to finish it.

“you know… i could’ve taken it if you said i was cold, distant or even selfish.. but hate?”

his smile was hollow. “thanks for confirming it.”

afterwards, he grabbed his car keys — didn’t even bother with a jacket, and then he left.

the door closed behind him so gently you almost didn’t hear it. but the silence he left in his place? that was loud enough to echo.

౨ৎ OLIVER AIKU ౨ৎ

“i hate you, oliver!”

you said it during a party — the kind of atmosphere where bodies pressed too close, music thumped through the walls, laughter spilling from mouths belonging of people whose names you didn’t even bother to learn. everything felt loud and far away —

especially him.

and he’d been acting like it didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter to him at all. so you said it out loud — not to be heard, but to finally hurt.

he just froze, still holding the beer in his hand. then came the smile, halfway up his face like it had been taped there. and before you could say another word, he turned to the girl next to him and laughed way too loud at a joke she didn’t even finish.

you didn’t see him look back at you. and he didn’t came back that night. there was no footsteps in the hallway. no sound of his key turning in the lock, not even to grab the things he left behind.

it’s as if the whole apartment had turned into a place he didn’t want to remember you in.

and the next morning? there was no note. no message. just his name missing from your phone, like he was making it easier for you to pretend he was never there.

౨ৎ NAGI SEISHIRO ౨ৎ

he didn’t react the way you expected.

“you’re so infuriating, seishiro! maybe i should hate you after all!”

he didn’t get angry, didn’t even say anything clever back like how he usually would — instead he just stared at you for a second, like he couldn’t quite tell if you were serious or if it just hurt too much to ask.

“...oh.”

then he turned and went to lie down in your shared bedroom face-first into his blanket, like maybe sleep could erase the way your voice had sounded just now.

you stood there, waiting for him to mutter something lazy, or teasing — like always.

but instead, you heard him whisper into the pillow:

“… maybe you should.”

and that hurt more than any fight ever could.

౨ৎ ISAGI YOICHI ౨ৎ

you tried to be an understanding girlfriend.

keyword, tried.

but he’d been so obsessed with practice, with winning — with everything else but you.

and you just snapped.

“i hate you… you hear me!?? i hate how you never want to spend time with me anymore — with you, it’s always about practice & winning!”

he stared at you like you’d hit him.

“… you hate me? you knew what this meant to me — even before you chose to love me.”

“but alright, i got it.”

you shook your head — too late, too slow — and he was already grabbing his jacket.

the door closed softly. and the only thing left in the room with you was the echo of your own voice, repeating something you wished you could take back.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock sae #sae itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #blue lock rin #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #blue lock angst

821 notes · View notes

neeeooon · 5 months ago

Note

Hey! How would the bllk boys (Bachira, Isagi, Chigiri, Rin + your choice?) React to their SO trying to break up with them bc she's insecure about not being ambitious enough and she thinks they should be with someone 'better'?

omg this made me so sad 😭 hopefully you enjoy!

when you try to break up with them because you’re insecure ;

bf bllk x fem!reader

bachira meguru

-> watching bachira dance across the field was your favorite thing in the world, but it could be bittersweet. you saw how happy it made him, and it sucked to know that you’d never feel that kind of excitement

-> the thoughts about not being good enough finally got to you, and you caved. “meg? when you have a minute?” “what’s up, y/n?”

-> you didn’t think it’d be this hard. “i… i don’t think i’m ambitious enough to be your girlfriend. i don’t have a thing like you do, and i feel like maybe i’m distracting you? like instead of being on the field, you’re with me, and that’s not fair to you and your dreams.”

-> after a moment of staring and blinking and confused looks from bachira, he jumps up and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “just because you don’t have a ‘thing’, doesn’t mean i don’t want you.”

-> he releases you and flashes his signature head-tilt-smile combo that wrecks your heart. “i can help you find something that drives you as much as soccer drives me, if you want! and if you don’t, that’s okay, too! but whatever it is, i want us to do it together. okay? :>”

isagi yoichi

-> after watching team blue lock play against the u20 team and win, hearing how determined your boyfriend was during the interview, watching him celebrate with his teammates, you made up your mind

-> “yoichi? can we talk?” and he starts sweating because he hasn’t seen or heard from you except for a little “congrats!” text since his game

-> you sit him down and stare into your lap as you say, “i think we should break up.”

-> he leans forward to ask why, but stops when you look up to reveal tears in your eyes. “i don’t have a dream. i’m not ambitious like you, and i don’t want to hold you back from achieving your dreams. i want you to live a full, prosperous life with someone better—“

-> and he’s kissing you. “y/n, no. i don’t… there isn’t anyone better. yes, this is my dream, but it’s a dream with you in it! and no one says prosperous, babe.”

-> you laugh at that and he helps wipe your tears away. “do you promise?” “i promise.”

chigiri hyoma

-> you loved watching chigiri regain his dream of running and playing soccer, but there were times when you felt like he was going to pass you by and not look back

-> it made you insecure, knowing he was so happy chasing after this dream that had previously been out of reach, when you didn’t have anything to compare it to. you felt like he could do better with someone who understood his struggles

-> “hyoma?” “hm?” “can i talk to you about something?” “mhm!” “something serious?” “… okay.”

-> and you tell him everything. “i feel like you could do better. like if you were with someone who truly understood your struggles and dreams, that you’d be happier. i love you, but i don’t want to be a deadweight in your future.”

-> chigiri would look at you, know you’re not joking, but still think this is a huge prank. “y/n, i’m able to run toward my dream because of you. because in my head, you’re there at the finish line. you’re not holding be back, you’re giving me something to run to.” you cried after that for sure

itoshi rin

-> though you cheered for your boyfriend and encouraged him every step of the way, you didn’t think you’d ever amount to the love and passionate rin has for soccer

-> it made you doubt yourself, seeing him so ambitious to strive for this dream when you didn’t have anything close to amounting

-> when it finally got to be too much, you pulled your boyfriend aside and kept your hands at your sides. “you are the most talented person i know.”

-> and now he’s nervous. “what’s going on, y/n?”

-> “i feel like i’m pulling you away from that when i’m around. i think your career would be better off without me dragging you down. you’re such a skilled player, rin, and i’m just—“

-> he takes your hands in his and squeezes them, almost desperately. “don’t say anything else. i don’t want to hear it, y/n, please. i can’t do this without you. you aren’t pulling me away or dragging me down, so don’t—“

-> this time it’s you who cuts him off when you fling yourself against his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know… thank you for telling me.”

michael kaiser

-> omg he is terrified when you ask him to “talk” because he’s 98% sure he left the oven on and thinks you found out

-> but when you say, “i think we should break up,” his mind goes blank

-> “why.” “i just feel like you’re so focused on chasing your dream that you don’t need me… i can’t help you become a better player, and i don’t want to hold you back—“ “did i do something?” “huh?”

-> kaiser would look at you with such sad eyes, but accept this thinking that you want to leave him. “if you want to go, i won’t stop you. don’t stay with me if you aren’t happy anymore, y/n—“

-> you are confused, because how has the conversation changed this much? “what the heck, no! michael, i’m saying you can do better than me—“ “but i don’t want ‘better’! there isn’t ‘better’. i want you!”

#requested!#bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock angst #blue lock x reader #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi #itoshi rin #chigiri hyoma #michael kaiser #bllk x you #bllk bachira #bllk chigiri #bllk isagi #bllk rin #bllk kaiser

784 notes · View notes

neiptune · 5 months ago

Text

like real people do

cw: 2.8k wc, female reader, friends to lovers, literally black cat x labrador dynamic, you showed up one day and are still part of his life, it’s an axiom he would never expect to change. until one day you meet his brother for the first time and rin shits himself

“We should hang out tomorrow. Are you free?”.

“No”.

You frown.

“Would you have said yes, if you were?”.

Rin takes a moment to reply.

“Probably not”.

The grin you offer right away doesn’t surprise him, if anything it makes him roll his eyes with fake exasperation.

“I love how you never change”.

He nudges your shoulder with his arm, hands buried in the pockets of an expensive coat.

“You’re annoying”.

“I know, it’s my whole thing. You kinda agreed to it when you accepted me as a friend”.

“I never did such thing. You showed up one day and never left”.

Your giggle echoes across the empty street and Rin finds himself basking in your usual affection, something he’s well aware he hardly deserves.

It’s true, though. One day, back in high school, you were assigned to the same group project with two other classmates and that’s when the information of being in the same class in the first place was presented to him. You talked too much and smiled too often but when it came to doing actual work, you turned into a weirdly serious, responsible student. Instantly, too. Which would’ve been an interesting aspect of your personality, if he so much as cared.

You both ended up being the only two putting in real work to finish the project but the only thing Rin could think of was that he was relieved his perfect grades could stay perfect despite the dead weight. Except, you didn’t leave him alone ever since, apparently happy (always way too happy) to have found a new friend. He doesn’t remember how many times, throughout his high school years, he had to repeat that you two were not friends. Over and over again, the deterrent had failed miserably.

Rin has kinda made peace with your presence in his life by now, despite adulthood and your careers playing a significant role in keeping you apart, whenever he visits his hometown you’re there and whenever you happen to be where he is, you insist on seeing him. Stubborn as he’s always been, in his own mind Rin stands his ground that there’s nothing tragically wrong in allowing you to consider him your friend, still. There’s also nothing particularly dramatic in letting himself indulge in someone else’s obstinate fondness.

You’re a good person, he knows that much. Patient, generous, always the first to offer help and the last to ask for anything. You’re stupid. And gullible. Way too easy to take advantage of. It’s why he, to this day, still keeps an eye on you, walks you home in the middle of the night, doesn’t shut the door like he’d do with anyone else when you show up uninvited to his house. Sometimes he brings you something too, little mementos from his travels that hold no real meaning, despite the way your eyes shine with wonder when he begrudgingly hands them to you.

Rin knows you like him. Or at least you used to, so many years ago. He remembers hearing you confessing the secret to one of your closest friends. You never really told him, a good person but still too proud to give him the satisfaction of rejecting you, stood by his side when no one else would put up with his pissy attitude, always disregarding your feelings. Even when he had girlfriends you were there, feigning nonchalance. Stupid. He remembers how he immaturely tried to get you to admit it, shared petty details of his dates, told you he thought he was falling in love with other girls. Your smile barely faltered.

Why did you do that to yourself all that time, he still wonders. But then again he’d have to ask himself why his impatience, or rather lack of understanding, led him to kiss you when you were both visiting your families for the holidays, back from college.

Rin remembers the snow, the umbrella you were holding trying to clumsily cover him too. He remembers you were babbling some nonsense about how proud you were of him, of his career, the way you always knew he was destined to great things, his blue lock jersey still stored safely in the back of your closet. Rin remembers the way he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, dry and chapped from the cold. Was that truly the only way to get you to shut up? He doesn’t know. He just knows he didn’t expect you to take a step back, thank him for walking you home. The kiss was never mentioned again, the following day you acted like it never happened and he was glad he could carry on without the burden of weird expectations. Well, almost completely glad.

He didn’t kiss you because he liked you or desired something as unnecessary as a relationship, he’s sure of that. He just wanted to, in that moment. A stupid whim. And if the urge of shutting you up in the softest way has possessed him multiple times after that day and throughout the years, out of mere curiosity or simple convenience, he’s never really admitted it to himself.

You showed up one day, never left, are still part of his life. It’s an axiom he’d never expect to change. Perhaps he finds some comfort in it.

“You really can’t hang out tomorrow? ”, you’re doing that thing you always do when you’re disappointed, furrowed brows over big eyes that are rapidly losing their usual glow as you blink a few times. He sighs.

“I really can’t”.

“How long are you in town for?”.

“A few days”, he pauses for a second, then decides to concede, “we’ll have plenty of time”.

The way your lips immediately curl into a sweet smile almost makes him crack one too. Rin also loves how you never change.

“Oooh, you wanna hang out with me so bad!”.

“Shut up”.

“We’ll have plenty of time! Because I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world!”.

“Now you’re really pushing it”.

You laugh again, something tender settling over your features. He once more recognizes the affection in your gaze and has to look away.

Rin has hated October 10 for as long as he can remember.

It wasn’t always like that, as a kid it was a special day he got to celebrate his favorite person on. His brother went from being his personal hero and best friend, to a stranger he couldn’t recognize, to an adult he tries to have a decent relationship with, now. Still, October 10 is a hassle. If Sae is in town, something he tries to do for their sake, their parents always insist on having a small birthday celebration at home.

His mother spends hours decorating the living room, orders a cake so big it would require at least ten additional guests, they have so many gifts ready and wrapped by the table. For the past few years, Rin has been getting his brother a gift too. Not exactly a peace offering but the promise of getting there, perhaps.

It infuriates him that Sae still acts perfectly normal around him, never hostile, indifferent at best. They barely talk to each other but Rin doesn’t want to spend his entire life seething, he doesn’t want for one single feeling to define him anymore. So he also accepts the birthday gifts his brother sends him on September 9.

It’s just a day, he mentally repeats, it will be over soon. But he doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring, everything has already been delivered and they didn't invite anyone.

Rin certainly doesn’t expect you, standing on his doorstep with a million dollar smile and clearly hiding something behind your back.

“What are you doing here?”, he’s frozen, in disbelief. You’re not supposed to be there.

“Surprise!”, you grin, “look what I finally found!”.

You’re suddenly holding something so close to his face he has to take a moment to focus to understand what he’s looking at. It’s a horror game, one he’s looked everywhere for because they don’t sell those anymore. Rin only mentioned it once but of course you mentally took note and conducted your own, personal research. It must’ve costed you a fortune. You’re such an idiot.

“It’s not a good time”, he takes a step back, hoping you’ll get the hint and do the same. Your smile falls.

“I know. I just wanted to drop this off. Here”, you hand him the neatly packed gift. Rin takes it, then meets your gaze for a second. He wants to say something, apologize, but you’ve already turned your back to him and are quickly granting his wish of being left alone. He asks himself how much patience you have left, how close you are to abandoning him and his asshole ways for good.

“Who are you?”.

Rin freezes a second time, the voice behind him so close and oddly interested. You stop in your tracks, whip around to look at someone who isn’t him. Something hard flashes across your features but it’s quickly whisked away when you offer one of your usual, polite smiles.

“No one, I was just passing by”.

Something inside Rin cracks. No one? You can hardly ever shut up about being his friend.

Sae hums.

“You should come in. There’s extra cake”.

When their mom catches sight of you, she also invites you in and there’s really no turning back from that. You’re too well mannered, too acquainted with his family to refuse. So you indulge them.

From the kitchen, he observes something he never thought would (or should) happen. Sae, the most infuriatingly detached, impassive person on the planet, is sitting next to you on the couch, where you’re making polite conversation. He’s listening. Rin knows he’s listening because he keeps his eyes on you, stance relaxed. Who knows what nonsense you’re rambling about this time, unfinished cake in the paper plate balanced on your knees. He says something, you chuckle. Rin focuses on his own unfinished cake, suddenly nauseous.

All these years, this is the one thing he didn’t want to happen, you meeting his brother. It’s petty and childish and Rin isn’t even quite sure why the desire to keep you from him has burned ardently this entire time but the fact that his efforts have vanished in the space of one afternoon brings a strange weariness.

By the time you excuse yourself, his parents are begging you to stay over for dinner. You refuse, thank them, thank Sae the most and wish him the happiest birthday. He dismisses your formality with the vague wave of a hand, says he hopes to meet you again. You smile sweetly.

“There’s no need”.

Rin ignores your objection similarly to how you ignored him the entire afternoon, finishes buttoning up his coat instead. He always walks you home and today will be no exception.

The silence between you two is so uncharacteristic it irritates him, to the point of affliction. Are you that upset with him? Ah, the magic must’ve finally flickered out.

“So, how was it?”, he spitefully pushes, “meeting the legendary brother”.

You keep your gaze on the street.

“It was okay”.

Rin scoffs.

“Just okay? You two really hit it off”.

“He was kind to me”.

“I’m sure he was”.

You finally stop in your tracks to look at him.

“Just because we’re friends it doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole all the time, you know”.

Rin stops too, lips parted, breath condensating into a tiny cloud by his mouth. The serious look you’re fixing him with makes his shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. Your gaze softens and he hates it, how easy it is for you to cut him some slack.

“Can you tell me what’s really wrong, Rin?”.

He feels like throwing up.

“Nothing is wrong”.

You hum, pensive, take the time to kick a tiny rock with the tip of your boot.

“I really think you should give yourself some grace. You deserve some peace”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“It means you’re so focused on protecting yourself from imaginary threats, you can’t see”.

“See what?”.

You offer a sad smile.

“How bright you shine”.

Rin is so taken aback he doesn’t know what to say, surprise paralyzing his entire body. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, perhaps years. It’s not fair that you have access to such a vulnerable side of him, it’s not fair that he can suddenly sense a weird lump in his throat.

“I don’t shine-”, he spits the word out, disgusted.

You’re usually very careful about his boundaries, whether they’re a hoax or not. But this time? You do something you’ve never done before, roughly take his face in your cold hands to make sure he keeps his gaze on you instead of avoiding it like a coward.

“You shine, Rin. I’m so tired of you being the only one refusing to see it. You’re the most resilient, talented, hardworking person I know. You did good. But the challenge is over, there is no war anymore, you don’t have to persist in this stubborn seclusion”, your eyes are suddenly wet, tears precariously collecting in your lash line, “you get to rest, now. Please, be proud of yourself and rest. There’s nothing to be on your guard against”.

He doesn’t remember his heart ever squeezing as painfully in his chest before, the urge to take your face in his hands making the pads of his fingers itch. He doesn’t remember the last time he came so close to let a few tears fall.

He’s gonna take you too. Just like he takes everything from me.

The thought takes his breath away for a moment. He feels your thumb gently stroke his cheek.

“You’re the legendary brother to me, anyway”, you smile, then sniffle.

Has he split himself wide open for you or are you simply that good at reading him? Rin can feel his hands shake when they fist the fabric of your plush jacket.

“Why are you telling me this?”, he can barely recognize the desperation vibrating in his own voice, “why do you even put up with me?”.

You blink a few times, astonished. Then smile again, warm and bright like the sun. Oh, he doesn’t shine, you do.

“Because I love you, obviously”.

And Rin doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to wonder what you mean. He knows. He’s known all this time.

“Why did you never tell me?”.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me do it in peace”, you chuckle, “you don’t like me like that so you wouldn’t have let me love you. As if I needed something in return. As if loving you as a friend couldn’t possibly be enough, anyway”.

His fingers are hurting from how tightly he’s still fisting the fabric of your jacket. It feels like his insides are exploding with a million different emotions and he doesn’t have nearly enough time to interpret them. But does he really need that, after all? Time. He’s known you for so long.

“Stop putting up a fight, silly”, you let go of his face but flick his forehead, to which he grimaces, surprised, “let me love you. I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world after all! Who cares about your stupid brother? No wait, that came out mean, I just meant I care more about you than-”

Rin’s sudden embrace is suffocating, you’re pressed against him so tightly you genuinely struggle taking a single breath. You don’t remember him ever hugging you, the most noteworthy intentional contact you can recall is his arm around your shoulders when you insisted on taking a cute selfie, once. Every other hug, you had always initiated. His arms were always loose around you, cautious, despite his forehead often resting on your shoulder.

His clothes smell nice. He smells nice. You close your eyes, bask in a warmth so strange yet familiar. You don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him.

“You’re so stupid”, Rin murmurs against your neck. With a smile, you nuzzle your face further into his chest.

“So I’ve been told”.

He thinks his heart might be seconds away from slamming itself free from his ribcage.

“Can you tell me again?”.

“What, that I don’t care about your brother? Sure, fuck Itoshi Sae. Oh no, that was also way too mean, don’t tell him I said-”

Rin pulls away abruptly, hands kept on your shoulders to keep you there or maybe to steady himself. You shut your mouth, don’t comment damp cheeks dusted with pink. It may be the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

“Not that, you idiot”, his pitch is gentle, with a hint of amusement. One of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently skimming over your lips.

“I love you”, it comes out less bold now, timid. Something melts in his chest all the same.

“Will you pretend it never happened, if I kiss you now?”.

Your exhale is shaky.

“No”.

All these years and this is the first time you’re seeing Itoshi Rin truly, openly smile. The sight does something funny to your stomach.

“Good”.

#rin x reader #rin x you #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #itoshi rin x reader #I'm very nervous about his one please be kind lol

494 notes · View notes