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cryinggirlnamedhelen · 6 months ago

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it’s you, it’s you, it’s always you ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

the blue lock boys who will only ever have one lover throughout their life…and the reasons why.

(a/n: this one can be cute but it can be just as humbling and cruel at the same time. i tried to be as realistically romantic as possible, remembering that the blue lock boys are still in the end, teenage boys)

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

the ones who have one lover simply because they’re loyal

isagi, yukimiya, kaiser

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ isagi - growing up with a loving family who loves him unconditionally, isagi is naturally someone who believes in monogamy and traditional dating values, such as loyalty. even if there is a hypothetical scenario where isagi falls out of love with his lover, he’ll still stay because he simply believes that it’s just “the right thing to do”. even if his lover breaks up with him, he’ll stay single because he doesn’t want the potential scenario where he falls back in love with his lover while dating someone else.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ yukimiya - loyalty and good morals is something that yukimiya shows a lot of in the series, so naturally, it’s the same when it comes to romance with him. cheating on someone is a clear “no” for yukimiya—why would he date someone in the first place if he’s just going to cheat on them anyways? and if his lover ever cheats on him? well, he’ll be far too heartbroken and insecure to ever go on a date with someone else ever again. he’ll probably try getting his lover back though.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ kaiser - i know, i know. kaiser, of all people, loyal? i think the biggest factor in this is his mother and also his constant needed desire for unconditional love. kaiser’s mother left him and his father, and kaiser is most definitely not wanting to follow in his mother’s footsteps. plus, kaiser canonically having studied psychology makes it clear that he probably knows that if he stays loyal to someone, that’ll make it easier to make them love him unconditionally. ultimately, kaiser’s sure as hell a red flag, but he’s not heartless.

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

the ones who have one lover because no one else wants them

bachira, nagi, hiori

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ bachira - i think we all know that bachira grew up pretty much alone. with such a lack of friends, the moment someone shows interest in him, he’ll latch onto them. it’s to the point where it gets unhealthy, as he’ll get into a nearly depressed state if someone he latches onto finds someone else, like his reaction when isagi and rin were ignoring him during the second selection. because of this, he’ll realize pretty damn quickly that if he wants someone else to be loyal to him, he’ll have to be just as devoted.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nagi - similar to bachira, he grew up with basically no friends until he met reo. although nagi doesn’t seem to care nearly as much, ever since meeting reo, he is much more attached. nagi is self aware that he’s not the most pleasant of the bunch, so similar to how he is with reo, if he meets someone who genuinely cares, he will latch onto them. sure, there will be times where he will leave for a little while; but in the end, he will always come crawling back to his lover because he knows that no one else would want him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ hiori - hiori is a weird one. a lot of people definitely have a crush on hiori; however, due to his childhood and the way that his parents treated him like more of a tool, hiori definitely just wants love—similar to kaiser. however, the biggest difference is that when hiori finds someone who loves him, he doesn’t realize that other people love him too. it very much matches the saying “love is blind” if you don’t understand what im saying. hiori is obsessed with the idea of being loved that he’ll do anything to help and stay loyal.

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

the ones who have one lover because they want no one else

reo, kunigami, barou

(a/n: remember kids, THESE are the MEN—not boys—who you should date)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ reo - reo is someone where if he falls in love with someone, there is no one else in the world except for him and his lover. just looking at the way that reo acted when nagi left him for isagi says enough already on its own; reo didn’t try to find someone else to replace nagi—he tried getting nagi back and grieved. when reo falls in love, he truly wants no one else. even if someone goes on their knees and begs for reo to give someone else a chance, he’ll just reject them. in fact, reo will do anything for his lover to stay.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ kunigami - walking green flag. growing up with younger sisters, he knows that being loyal and dating someone who he truly loves is extremely important. he always makes sure to not date someone or give someone who he doesn’t like the wrong idea because he doesn’t want to break their heart and make himself feel guilty. similar to reo, once kunigami falls in love, the world is just him and his lover. to him, falling in love is an eternal thing—something forever. and kunigami knows better than to take advantage of that.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ barou - just like kunigami, barou always grew up with younger sisters who he took good care of. he understands to be a loyal man—that it’s important to treat someone who he loves in a devoted and loyal way. it’s rare for barou to fall in love because this man KNOWS his worth. he doesn’t want someone who will take advantage of him and his housewife ways; so barou falling in love is—like kunigami—a lifetime thing. he’s dedicated to whoever his lover is because…why shouldn’t he? if he fell in love, he won’t fall out of love.

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cheralith · 3 months ago

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— all i breathe in is your life. feat. itoshi sae || wc: 1.1k contains: gn!reader, no pronouns used, secret relationship, just pure fluff :P

sae doesn't really tell people things about himself.

he thinks he doesn't need to—unless it involves soccer, he sees no use in people attempting to pry at his personal self other than to just scratch the surface level of itoshi sae, professional soccer player. all the masses need to know is that he's a midfielder, he's from japan, and itoshi rin is his little brother.

so shock comes as a severe understatement to his team when they find out that he's married after one of them overhears sae telling their coach he can't make to a press conference because he'll be celebrating his wedding anniversary.

sae understandably gets bombarded the moment he enters the locker room to his disdain. many of his teammates have coupled up with celebrities, models, and influencers—per modern athlete fashion—so they provoke him with who this mystery person is.

"none of your business," he snaps, clearly irritated.

some of them think it's a fluke, just his way to get out of dealing with the media, as sae bears no ring on his left ringer and has never been seen wearing it in public (though, arguably, sae is a hard figure to catch outside the field anyways). but all sae has to do is roll his eyes, take out a travel-sized jewelry holder, and put on his wedding ring to flash at them.

"well shit, man," one of his younger teammates, a notoriety amongst the media for being a bit of a playboy, laugh. "how long have you been chained down for?"

the phrase irks him a bit. to view marriage as a prison seems contemptuous to him—no wonder this guy can't hold down a relationship.

sae shuts his locker door, eyes still bored as ever as he makes his way to the exit.

"four years going on five," he mutters, a smidgen of entertainment for them just to shut them up for good. "you're lucky if your career ever lasts as long."

he gawks at him, ready to fire back an insult, but sae's already disappeared through the door. sae makes his way to the lobby of his team's training facility, where he sees you, their assistant manager, sitting patiently at one of the tables nearest to the window.

"ah, sae," you greet with a friendly smile, tablet with his stats on hand. "there you are."

he only gives you a silent nod of acknowledgement in return, sparing nothing for you but an ear to listen as you read off his comments given to them by their coach as you always do with each member. there's nothing much to improve on, seeing as how he's essentially the definition of perfection in regards to soccer, but he still clutches onto the occasional whisper of criticism to help him improve.

he bids you goodbye, reminding you that he won't be at the press conference this evening and to have a nice evening, before he exits out the doors and makes his way to his car. the silence that bestows upon him when he enters it makes him feel at peace... until his phone rings.

an audible groan escapes him; sae swipes at his phone, ready to curse out what was probably his teammate he insulted earlier or his coach, but the annoyance within him disappears the moment he sees a familiar name.

he picks it up carefully, staring straight ahead of him into the lobby of the facility.

a well-known greets him first. "hi there."

"hey," he mutters softly... a hint of affection in his voice.

"so, apparently the restaurant is all booked for tonight," you whisper into the phone, sae watching your lips move in sync from inside the safety of his car. "i got us this other restaurant near roppongi, is that okay?"

sae nods, hoping that you can see it through the lobby. "that's fine. what time should i start leaving the house to meet you there after the conference?"

a sweet, thoughtful hum passes through. "how 'bout 7:00? meet there at 7:30? conference ends at 6:30, but i'll leave a bit early to catch a cab and beat traffic."

disapproval seeps into his sigh. "i still think it's better if i pick you up."

"haha, no way. and risk being caught?" you laugh, giggling when you see sae's scrunched face through the window of the lobby from his car.

"i just don't like the thought of you being in a car alone with a stranger," he says, his tone droll as ever but you've known him long enough to detect that subtle worry in his voice.

"i appreciate the thought, my darling husband," you remark as you gaze upon your five-year-old wedding ring sae gave you. "but we've worked this hard to keep it under wraps. one cab ride won't kill me. it's just so that we don't have to take two cars home."

sae doesn't enjoy the feeling of defeat, but all his ego comes to humble itself whenever you were the one that bestowed it upon him. only the person he stood across the altar from half a decade ago would only be able to do such to itoshi sae.

"fine..." he grumbles, watching as you grin rather stupidly your gain. "send over the address. and don't be late."

"yessir," you give him a childish salute from the lobby, one that he has to fight cracking a smile at, your playfulness never once fading at the slightest from the moment he met you.

though he does admit it's hard trying to keep your relationship behind closed doors, especially since you're a non-celebrity, but it's all worth it when he gets to wake up to your face and kiss it right before he falls into a deep slumber, your body intertwined his with a tenderness being connected with his—a silent murmur of "i love you" to end off another day with you.

just before he ends the call, your voice reaches him once more.

"sae?"

he blinks, removing his hovering finger over the red button to let your words reach him, not wanting to waste any word that comes out of your lips go uncherished.

"yeah?"

you turn to face him directly from where you were in the lobby, only the window of it and the window of the his car being your only barriers between each other. affection spreads upon your features, one that makes sae mimic on his own.

"happy anniversary, my love," you profess tenderly to him. "i love you."

a warmth embeds itself within him when he admires you from his car. five years may not necessarily be the longest of time to some people, but to think that you and him have lasted this long together brings about a peace that he treasures on the daily and will continue to do so forevermore if you're by his side.

his eyes soften, staring at you in pure devotion.

"i love you too," sae confesses. "happy anniversary."

#lovesick men who cheered #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #gn!reader #✍︎ ; alice in writingland

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shoeistars · 1 month ago

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adrenaline rush !

incl. isagi, bachira, kunigami, reo, nagi, barou, rin, shidou

ʚଓ outline. there’s something different about the way he fucks you post match

ʚଓ w. 18+ content, minors dni, pro!characters, fem!bodied, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise

isagi !

It’s always the same. Not to say that Isagi had boring sex game— no, there is zero truth to that. Win, lose, draw, he had this primal feel to him once all was said and done on the pitch. Sweaty, a little flushed in the cheeks and ears, total tunnel vision because the one thing he wants after a game is a warm and wet pussy to sink into.

The hotel bed didn’t stand a chance, really. It has probably seen its fair share of fucking, has likely withheld many bumps and breaks. Each thrust caused an annoying creak to echo into the air, a small little cry for help that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t the type to settle for a quick fuck but home was miles away and he was an impatient man. The walls were blank, the sheets wrinkling and coming undone from each corner of the mattress, bunching right underneath your spent body as he works you out further.

“Is there a reason why you’re bein’ quiet?” The rough cut of Isagi’s voice questions into your right ear, body mounted on top of yours as if to mimic that sweet and victorious moment of a predator capturing his dinner. There’s a rhythm to his hips as he plows you from behind, not quite hitting deep and merely focused on speed alone.

His hand, the one not curled loosely around your throat and threatening to cut off your oxygen supply, kneads at the crease of your hip meeting your thigh. It would feel like a rather loving touch if he weren’t battering into your guts to chase his own high. It goes off course and dips between your thighs, pawing gently at the mound of your hot cunt before introducing his middle and ring finger in a slippery dance against your clit.

“That’s fine, you don’t gotta say a thing,” He drawls on, choking on a groan at the feeling of you pulsing so delicately around his cock. That egoist that the field loves to see so much shines through even hours after he’s left the grass, after he’s ditched the cleats. It seeps out of his pores, it leaves his throat in the form of snark and cockiness. You’ve always told him how much you adored it when he got into his flow, anyway. “This pussy tells on you every fucking time.”

bachira !

Endorphins flooding his brain, Bachira can barely see straight. Every single win under his belt has felt the same, gave him that same smile and that familiar rush. There was nothing like reaching the tip of the iceberg and collecting yet another accomplishment in his career. He’s always been the type to celebrate by stretching the party, by chasing drinks and good food and enjoying company.

One of his favorite ways to celebrate a good and clean win is to have you spread out on the bed. As much as he misses his funky room back at home, the one filled with colors and his personality— the provided living quarters would have to suffice. Door locked, plenty of activity going on just outside. Bachira wasn’t himself if he weren’t living on the very edge.

Lips suctioned to your pussy, he can only smile at the feeling of sharp tugs assaulting his long hair. He’s still damp with sweat but you never seemed to mind, surely not when he was sucking you up like his last meal. He’s gotten the hang of going down on his girl after plenty of years, twisting and turning his tongue against your throbbing clit with technique. “Meguru, don’t stop,” you mewl rather loud, thighs twitching and toes curling against his shoulders.

“So loud,” he snickers against your pussy with glossy lips and lidded eyes, moaning softly against your folds before he’s pulling back to spit a thick glob onto your hole. His thumb dips down to smear it along your lips, biting his own at the erotic view before pushing the mess right back into your cunt. “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

The beautiful thing about a man as patient as Bachira was that he could do this for hours, sucking and licking and kissing. Nothing got him harder than getting you off, than suffocating in your cream and your scent. He had time.

kunigami !

Blue Lock as a whole ruined your boyfriend. He was never the same, never would be. There was a lack of spirit in him that was once his one unique quality. Everyone who knew Kunigami grew to adore him because he really was just a friendly face. Now, soccer and everything to do with the sport only brought out this nasty side to him.

The first time you were able to reunite was messy. Post game, he would normally stick to something easy. Nice dinner reservation, a little bit of harmless fun afterwards. That Kunigami was left in the goddamn dirt, replaced with someone who still loved but in such a drastically different way.

He was mean. Of course, you’d adapt. He would still remain loyal and considerate, would still make sure you were taken care of after all was said and done. There was just an animalistic dominance to him in the bedroom that was so unrecognizable to what once was. He was ferocious in the way he guided you down to your knees, slapping his thick and heavy dick against your cheek once, twice, three times for good measure.

Grunts and groans filled the room, never a quiet guy. The old Kunigami was gentle and even a bit timid but the way he fucks your face now is the opposite. Spit dribbling down your chin, throat nearly bulging with the head of his cock, gags so forcibly loud that they’d be leaving your voice hoarse. Your hands are shaky as they attempt to curl around the thickness of his quads, begging for a break. The sight only makes him scoff.

“Make me cum,” He demands, quiet yet filled with a sharpness that made you squeeze your thighs together. “Earn it.”

reo !

The time and place doesn’t matter— Reo will always be a sucker for missionary. He’s a yearner, he loves so deeply and a hundred wins could never compare to watching your face when he’s laying it down good. The furrow in your brow, the scrunch of your nose. Bliss always looked best on you and he just wouldn’t be him if he didn’t spoil you rotten.

Stupidly expensive chain dangling right in your face, the metal swaying with each hard thrust. Reo hasn’t blinked once since getting you on the leather sofa, focused on what you respond best to. Not a single twitch could go unnoticed by him and he’d be damned if he doesn’t get your cross-eyed, if he doesn’t get you singing by the time he’s done making a sloppy mess of you.

“So cute,” He whispers sweetly, a little tipsy from the after party that the two of you returned from just shy of an hour ago. Your makeup left messy trails and streaks all over but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t add to it all. Liquor staining his lips, he can’t help himself from diving down for a needy little kiss. Lips sliding against yours, just a ghost of a touch, almost missing and pecking at the corner of your mouth instead.

Your legs ache from how high they’re settled, heels propped on his shoulders. He’s gotten big since his first big steps at chasing a professional career, the protein doing what it was supposed to do. Your ogling of his physique was cut so short as he snuck a hand between your legs, circling at your clit with percision. He had a one track mind and that was to get you squirting, to get you feeling just as good as today has felt for him.

“Show me how wet this pussy gets for me,” Reo punctuates his plea with faster circles, deeper thrusts, unable to help the satisfied grin that tugs at his lips when you only grow louder. “Make me proud. Nut on my dick, know you can do it.”

nagi !

Not a lot of things come to impress Nagi Seishirou. He’s hard to capture the attention of, going through life with simplicity and preferring to stick to his guns. It was a shock to everyone who knew him when he landed a girlfriend in the first place. The same guy who disregarded everything that required the bare minimum amount of attention managed to score? It was almost too good to be true.

It was fair to assume that after years of learning how to be present, how to be a fair and decent boyfriend, he could never go back. Not after getting a taste of you, not after feeling the highs that you managed to pull straight out of him like a puppet to your string. You opened so many new doors, you were good for his mental.

The best way to spend a good night is to make it even better. Your thighs straddle his, the fancy little number you wore for such a big game ridden up and out of his way. Pussy leaking like a faucet, the sounds of you bouncing your hips is embarrassingly loud in the backseat of your car. The two of you just couldn’t wait.

“Look so good tonight, baby,” He practically slurs, pussydrunk and successfully knocked from all of the theatrics of the night. He can never seem to think straight once you’re on top of him like this, tits bouncing right in his face, wrapped around him like a serpent. “Know that? Did I already tell you? I’ll tell you a million times.”

Oh, how he would. He would do whatever the hell you want if you’d just stay like this, wrapped around him like a vise, squeezing him hotly. You were his dime piece and he’d be an utter fool to not bend at your every beck and call.

barou !

Naturally, his first order of business after hours of playing on the same standing grounds as a bunch of sweaty neanderthals is to hit the showers. There’s nothing that he hates more than the way his jersey sticks to his back like glue, the skin of his forehead dewy. What he wasn’t expecting was his little plus one to trail on in after him, clothes long ditched as you slot yourself into the tiny compact stalls of the stadium’s complementary showers.

You know him by now. You know that whether he ate a loss or devoured a victory that he wasn’t much of a talker after exerting himself in the hot sun. Nearly running on empty, this was the one and only time that the stupidly buff man was dead silent. Zero complaints left him as he wrapped a wet palm around the nape of your neck, brushing lazily at the hair there with his thumb, angling upwards until he could latch his lips to yours.

Slow kisses and gentle touches, there wasn’t much energy left for a rough fuck. Barou was a thorough lover at the end of the day, showing his gratitude of your endless support by making your pussy soak him sloppy. The sensuality made up for the lack of output, so tender and passionate in ways that screams his love without making him verbalize it. God forbid he ever did that.

“Oh, I know,” he purrs against your swollen bottom lip as he sinks in, sheer strength keeping you held in his arms, back against the cold tile of the shower. Your hearty whimpers bounce off of the walls and he swears it’s his favorite sound. It’s always a challenge to take such a thick cock and he’s nothing if not a gentleman. “It’s so deep, huh? You’re taking it so well, though.”

It always makes him bite back a grin of pride when your nails claw at his shoulders, leaving nasty marks into the meaty flesh— a last resort at gathering your bearings before he fucks you so out of your mind that you threaten to pass out every single time. The sounds are filthy as he pours every last bit of his effort into you, tiring you out to match.

rin !

Soccer invokes plenty of strong emotions out of Rin as a whole. The pitch is the one place where he can unleash everything, where it genuinely counts. Post match? He gets rather passionate, in his feelings, raw and open like a fresh cut. It’s clear that he puts his full effort into every little detail of his day, that he considers everything a waste if not done to the fullest.

Simply put, if you aren’t shaking purely from overstimulation and pleasure, he isn’t done. A man akin to a machine, stamina blessing him with several rounds in the tank, there’s no telling just how long he’ll keep you in the same position. Body pressed into the bed, twitching against the wrinkled sheets, weakly holding onto a pillow as your final saving grace.

“Shit, that’s it,” He hisses as soon as he feels the tight, hot grip of your cunt wringing him. It’s the fifth he’s managed to pull out of you, keeping you perfectly bent until you physically give out. Times like these, sweat glistening down your back and thighs quivering as if they’re ready to snap are his favorite.

A hand reaches until it hits skin. It runs along the nape of your neck, sticky and dewy yet so intimate. His fingers dip down to cup your chin, light in the way he forces you to look over your shoulder. Your eyes connect and it has you breaking all over again, doing your best to keep them open as you cum almost on instant. Balls clapping your swollen clit with the sheer angle he’s hitting, so deep in your guts that it hurts. You didn’t stand a chance against him.

No, you were the love of his goddamn life. The one person he looked for in a room full of people, the only one who’s seen every inch of his body. He could never be worthy of you if he couldn’t fuck you to sleep with ease.

shidou !

Shidou on the field and off of the field are arguably the same person. Still eccentric, still too inappropriate for his own good. He brings levels of excitement that are otherwise hard to reach and truly, it’s difficult to keep up with him. Marching to the beat of his own drum and seeking fulfillment is what gives him his drive, its fuel for his fire.

The hospitality was his favorite part of the Blue Lock journey. He outperformed majority of the selected players and he was rewarded in turn, given luxuries and spoiled to the nines with catering and amenities. His suite was huge and he’s already fucked you in every corner of it, every surface. It’s not his until it’s tainted with him, after all.

“Shit, I needed this after today,” His voice rasps in your ear, the hard plastic edge of the hot tub that he’s got you bent over successfully digging into your ribs. Bubbles and suds clap into the air with each thrust, water gently rocking into a splash as it spills past the confines and drips onto the concrete of the balcony. It was a beautiful night after a beautiful win and nothing could make this better for him. “Water’s so warm. Do you like it too? Huh, gorgeous?”

When a dick that long was forcing itself into you, in and out like a sick song, kissing your cervix with each hit— words were hard to come by. Moans and gasps rupture from your throat as you try to muster a nod, grasping at the slippery corner of the hot tub for dear life, his pelvis smacking against the globes of your ass hard enough to sting.

He stops, so cruel and mean, dick still fully lodged in your walls. Pressing deep, hugging your aching sides and tugging you into his chest, he plants sloppy wet kisses along your cheek. “C’mon,” Shidou sneers with a smile, downright evil in the way he brings a hand up to grip your face between his fingers. “Good girls speak when they’re spoken to.”

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #isagi smut #bachira smut #kunigami smut #reo smut #nagi smut #barou smut #rin smut #itoshi smut #rin itoshi smut #shidou smut #blue lock smut

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sinsxo · 3 days ago

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luckiest fan. —blue lock

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro.

synopsis. your interactions with them may have gone viral, but what the world doesn’t see is what happens after the cameras stop rolling. the notifications, the dms, and the quiet moves they make.

cw. drabble, cussing, fan interaction stuff, lighthearted fic.

wc. 1k words, not proofread.

part 1 & part 2 here!

isagi yoichi ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

the world may have seen isagi yoichi’s fan interactions with you — helping you pick up the phone you dropped, and taking a selfie with you after his team qualified for the semi-finals. it was a heartwarming and sweet gesture from him. people reposted it with captions like “wholesome king” or “i want what they have.”

but that was only the surface of it.

no one saw the notification that popped up on your phone when he liked the instagram story you posted — the one where you thanked him for being so kind, paired with the selfie he'd taken of you two.

and no one saw the reply to your story either.

isag1yoichi replied to your story.

isag1yoichi you're welcome :) glad the pic turned out well

you stared at your screen with your mouth open, taking a couple minutes to run laps around your room before responding.

you omg you ?!?!?!??!?!?!? you you were awesome on the field!!

isag1yoichi haha thanks :D glad you came again

you it was worth it! semi finals next, right?

isag1yoichi yeah! isag1yoichi are you coming?

you if i can get a ticket LOL

isag1yoichi maybe this will help

attached was a photo of a jersey.

his jersey.

with his signature on it.

isag1yoichi got you a ticket too, just pick it up at the ticket window. left your name with the staff :)

you WHAT you THANK YOU!!!

after jumping around out of joy for a few minutes, you laid on your bed, back flat against the mattress and stared at the ceiling like your soul just left your body.

itoshi rin ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

you didn’t tag him in your instagram posts. you just posted casually — photos of your outfit, the view from your seat, a pic of the gift bag you handed him, and your poor isagi banner that got stepped on (accidentally).

then you forgot about it — forgot that you even posted anything until you were mentioned in an article that featured you and rin with the headline: “a mysteriously soft interaction from the usually cold itoshi rin.”

your instagram handle was there. his was too.

a few hours later, a notification lit up your screen.

itoshi_rin liked your post.

then:

itoshi_rin sent you a message.

itoshi_rin thanks for the protein bars. never thought the day i could eat them again would come

you hoyl fcuk you i mean you you’re welcome you but wtf

itoshi_rin you coming to the next match?

you yeah

itoshi_rin great. make sure you cheer for the correct player this time

you hey i am cheering for the right player

itoshi_rin clearly not itoshi_rin make sure your banner has my face on it itoshi_rin and try not to drop it

you why you will you sign it?

itoshi_rin if you’ll be my protein bar supplier, then yes itoshi_rin or teach me your ways at least

you only iffffffffff you you get me isagi’s signature too

itoshi_rin lame.

you so you won’t? you then im not cheering for you

itoshi_rin add your number to the deal then i will

you OMFG???????????????????

and guess who showed up to the stadium with a rin banner instead of their isagi one.

itoshi sae ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

you posted an instagram story of the banner that he signed. both of it — the one he ruined and — nevermind, he ruined both.

the first time he signed ruined your banner, a viral article came out, talking about itoshi sae’s “dry humour” and “hidden playfulness”.

you thought it was just pure pettiness.

but two can play that game, so naturally, you fought pettiness with pettiness.

you got a signature on his own banner so you could sell it.

but he ruined it once again.

you posted it on you instagram story anyway, with the caption: “might sell this for 5 digits. who wants it 😋😋 #profitoffpettyboys”

then you tagged him. as a joke.

and he replied.

itoshisae_10 seriously?

you stared at the message, panicking.

you wth you WTH you WHY DID U ACTUALLY REPLY

itoshisae_10 ? itoshisae_10 am i not allowed to interact with fans now?

you WELL U NEVER DO you seems like u didnt expect that me to sell it huh you shouldve signed it properly if you wanted me to keep it you mustve hurt your ego ☺️

itoshisae_10 next time, make a better one. itoshisae_10 maybe i’ll give you a proper autograph that you can sell.

you wait actually?? you like actually? you no ykw you i dont want your autograph anyway

then he sent you a photo of his jersey with a signature on it.

itoshisae_10 shame. itoshisae_10 could’ve earned 6 digits from this. itoshisae_10 if you show up, that is

you weren’t sure what surprised you more. that he actually replied to your story and offered you a signed jersey or that you were now crafting a new banner for the same man who ruined your last two.

nagi seishiro ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

nagi seishiro doesn’t really go on social media unless he has to, and he definitely doesn’t track articles or read his own press. he thinks it’s too much work — unnecessary work.

but he did bring candy to the next match.

so when he saw you again, waving from the stands, grinning like you’d just won the lottery, he blinked slowly and made his way over.

“you,” he mumbled.

you grinned. “me.”

he pulled out a bunch of different candies out of his pocket and handed it over. “for you.”

you looked surprised. “really?”

he shrugged. “you gave me good candy. figured i should give you something back.”

you laughed, feeling touched. “thank you!”

he mumbled something that sounded vaguely like you’re welcome before walking off — hands in his pockets, head tilted back, yawning.

that night, you posted the candy on your story.

nagi gave me candy 🥹💕 #luckiestfanever

you tagged him, not expecting anything.

but a few minutes later, a notification popped up.

nagiseishiro replied to your story.

nagiseishiro did u like it?

you @#$$@%!???? you YES I LOVED IT you thank you :))

nagiseishiro ok cool nagiseishiro what flavour do you want next time?

you NEXT TIME?!??! 😭

nagiseishiro idk

you im not picky with the flavours, anything works!

nagiseishiro ok nagiseishiro same time next match?

you fhbajijhfsjkqwpokisjk you i mean of course!!

and that was how your casual matchday tradition began.

somewhere in between, it became something more.

taglist. tagging everyone who wanted a part 3, thanks for your support! @lexiestea13 @itoshiabi @chewiebee @pinkytoxichearts

all images, aside from the dividers, do not belong to me. credit belongs to their original creators on pinterest & xhs.

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dior-luxury · 8 days ago

Note

Hum hey so its my first time requesting :)

Anyway, can you do a Rin version of "How'd They Handle Your Relationship Going Public" and basically he and the reader have been together for a long time since they were teenagers, like 6 years already and they're engaged? Thanks :)

𓂃 . 𐑞 How'd They Handle Your Relationship Going Public ⟢

Part 1 . Part 2

ꔫ��genre﹒⟢ -boyfriend stories/fluff/drama. f!reader

⏆﹒⿻ ch . rin . nagi . karasu . alexis . chris prince . bunny iglesias

﹙◞◟﹚﹒warnings ﹒Public Scrutiny & Media Exposure / Emotional Vulnerability / Relationship Dynamics / Mature Themes / Social Media/Press Impact / Positive Romantic Themes

[Note]: Part two, since. you guys loved it so much! Also I included my first ever writing for bunny 😋 I KNOW WE'VE ONLY GOTTEN ONE CHAPTER WITH HIM SO FAR BUT IM IN LOVEEEE

Rin Itoshi

Rin Itoshi had always prided himself on emotional discipline. Ever since Sae left for Spain, he taught himself not to rely on others, to be self-sufficient, to view vulnerability as weakness. So when he fell for you—quietly, stubbornly—it wasn’t part of the plan. You snuck into his life like a soft breath in winter, unnoticed until everything was already changed.

Your relationship wasn’t built on grand gestures, but small, powerful moments—your steady gaze when the world doubted him, the hand you always reached out with when he stood at the edge of frustration. To Rin, you became home. A rare place where his sharp edges didn’t slice someone open.

So when photos of you two together surfaced—just one, a candid shot of you lacing your fingers through his as you waited outside his training center—it sent shockwaves across social media.

The response was instantaneous.

The comments flooded in:

"Is that Rin’s girlfriend?" "He’s human??" "Didn’t think he had time for anyone other than football." "Damn, she’s lucky but brave. Rin looks like he'd chew your heart up and spit it out."

At first, Rin was livid. Not at you. Never at you. But at the world. For prying. For staining something so private, so sacred.

He showed up at your apartment that night, jaw clenched tight, fingers twitching as if caught between punching a wall or pulling you close. You opened the door before he knocked, already sensing his mood.

“What the hell is their problem?” he muttered, brushing past you, his presence like a stormcloud on the brink. “Why do they care?”

You reached for him—gentle, but grounding. “Because they didn’t know you could love someone.”

His silence stretched, taut like a bowstring. Then he turned, and his voice cracked just slightly. “They make it sound like... like I’m soft. Weak. Like being with you is a distraction.”

You stepped closer. “Is it?”

“No,” he answered immediately, eyes dark and unwavering. “You focus me. You remind me what I’m fighting for.” In the weeks that followed, Rin’s approach to the public scrutiny became calculated. He didn't flaunt the relationship—but he owned it. He didn’t let the press dictate the story.

In interviews, when asked about you, he gave short but clear answers.

“Yeah, she’s important to me.” “No, I’m not distracted. I’m more locked in than ever.” “If someone thinks love makes you weak, they’ve never fought hard enough for anything.”

Privately, Rin softened. The rare smile he gave you now lingered longer. He’d grip your hand a little tighter in public, not possessive—but proud. You were the exception to his isolation. The only one who saw him entirely.

And as the world gradually adjusted to this new side of Rin, so did he. His ice didn’t melt—but he carved space into it, just big enough for you.

Nagi Seishiro

Dating Nagi was like being with a cat who slowly learned to care where you went—and eventually started curling up next to you every night without realizing it. At first, it seemed like he didn’t take much seriously. He grumbled when he had to wake up early, complained about drills, and often called things “a pain.”

But your relationship with him changed something. He still complained—but now it was with his head in your lap. He still wanted to play video games, but only if you sat next to him. He didn’t say “I love you” often—but when he did, it was always when you least expected it, whispered into your hair like a secret he didn’t want stolen.

When your relationship became public—thanks to someone catching a picture of you two cuddled up during a post-match interview cooldown—Nagi barely blinked.

“Huh,” he said, chewing a rice ball as you scrolled nervously through social media. “Didn’t even know we weren’t public.”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “This is everywhere, Sei. Like, trending-everywhere.”

“Cool,” he said, flopping back on the couch. “Maybe now they’ll stop asking if I’m single.”

“But what if people harass you?” you asked, worry twisting your stomach. “Or say stuff about me?”

Nagi looked at you, his eyes sleepily serious now. “Then I block them. Or ignore them. Or dunk on them in-game. Who cares?”

But here’s the thing: Nagi did care. Not about the strangers—but about you. He noticed when your smile faltered reading the comments. He noticed when your phone lit up with unwanted messages. And he didn’t like it.

So, in the most Nagi way possible, he stepped up. Quietly, but unmistakably. He started tagging you in his casual stories—photos of takeout with captions like, “She chose this, pretty good tbh.” He posted a picture of your hands interlocked on his controller with the caption: “My lucky charm.”

And during a televised match, after scoring a ridiculous goal and being asked about what motivated him, he surprised everyone by saying:

“Wanted to win for her. She said I could do it. So I did.”

It broke the internet.

Suddenly, Nagi wasn’t just the genius with sleepy eyes—he was the genius in love, and soft, and real. And you—his S/O—weren’t just a side character. You were his tether, his cheerleader, the person who made life feel less like a chore and more like a game worth playing.

He didn’t care about the fame. Or the buzz. Or the hate. He only cared that you were still smiling, still beside him, still his. And late at night, when the world was quiet again and you were curled up beside him under a messy blanket, he’d whisper into the dark:

“Glad they know. Makes it easier to show you off.”

Karasu Tabito

Karasu was always the center of attention. With his untamed hair, sharp eyes, and a smirk that made girls swoon and rivals seethe, he thrived in the chaos of the spotlight. He invited it. Interviews, cameras, the gossip mill—Karasu handled it like a magician performing sleight of hand.

But you? You were different. Private. Grounded. A little more reserved, even if you could keep up with his banter. He loved that. The contrast between your calm and his chaos made you magnetic to him. You were his anchor. The only one who could call him out without losing his respect—and the only one he genuinely listened to.

The relationship started as a secret not because Karasu was hiding you—but because he wanted to protect you. “Let’s keep this just for us,” he’d say, nuzzling your neck with that wolfish grin. “The world’s nosy. And kinda gross.”

But all secrets crack eventually. A blurry video surfaced of you two at a club—Karasu’s hand tucked casually around your waist, your body pressed to his as you whispered something in his ear, smiling. It wasn’t scandalous. But it was intimate.

Social media exploded:

“That Karasu’s girlfriend? Damn, she’s got nerves of steel.” “Why’s he cuffed now? Did hell freeze?” “Not gonna lie, kinda hot couple.”

At first, Karasu laughed. He loved the drama.

"Looks like we're trending, babe," he smirked, flashing his phone. "You're famous now. Want me to teach you how to sign autographs?"

You rolled your eyes, but you could see the storm brewing behind his playful expression. He wasn't worried about himself. He was worried about you. Because suddenly people were digging into your life. Old photos. Your friends. Your job.

That night, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder while you scrolled through some of the invasive posts, his voice unusually serious.

“They’re jackals,” he muttered. “Feeding off things that don’t belong to them.”

“Why does this feel like more your world than mine?” you asked, a bit overwhelmed.

He looked at you for a long moment. “Because I’ve played this game longer. But I’ll teach you the rules.”

The next day, Karasu took control of the narrative. He posted a single, stunning photo—just you, laughing, wind in your hair, eyes closed—and captioned it:

“Mine. No apologies.”

It went viral.

People expected him to act cocky, but he surprised them. He started shutting down disrespectful fans. He mentioned you in interviews—briefly, but proudly.

“Yeah, she makes life better. Keeps me sane. And she’s hotter than most of you, so chill.”

What shocked people most wasn’t that Karasu had a girlfriend—it was how tender he was when he was with you. Still sarcastic, still teasing—but visibly grounded.

He even started skipping some afterparties. Choosing nights on the couch with you instead. “They’ve got lights and music,” he said. “I’ve got you. I win.”

Publicly, he was bold. Privately, he was yours—completely.

Alexis Ness

Alexis Ness was beautiful in the way a flame is—graceful, luminous, but never to be underestimated. A master of elegance and strategy, Ness moved like a dancer and thought like a tactician. He knew how to read the field—and people.

Your relationship with him started in quiet places: late-night cafés after practice, his soft laughter in whispered corners of the dorms, his fingers lacing with yours when no one was looking.

He adored you. But he also feared the world’s judgment. Not because he was ashamed—Ness wasn’t afraid of love—but because he knew exactly how cruel the world could be to something delicate.

“I want to keep you safe,” he whispered one night, tracing your fingers with his own. “Like a song only I know the words to.”

But one day, the veil lifted.

A professional photographer at a team event captured you both off-guard: Ness had just tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a soft smile blooming on his lips. The photo was ethereal—almost staged in how perfect it looked.

Except it wasn’t. It was just real.

The internet lit up:

“Who’s the lucky one Ness is looking at like that?” “He has someone? Makes sense. No one looks that gentle unless they’re in love.” “Kinda jealous. Kinda obsessed.”

Unlike Karasu, Ness didn’t panic. But he did retreat. That night, he came to you, anxious fingers threading into his hair.

“I wanted more time before they saw,” he said softly. “You’re the one thing I didn’t want them to touch.”

You took his hand. “Then let’s give them only what we want them to see.”

That’s what you did.

Together, you crafted boundaries. He posted a photo of your joined hands—rings gleaming, simple and serene—with the caption:

“Some things are too beautiful to hide.”

Ness didn’t speak much to the press, but his actions were louder than any words. He’d take your hand in public now—elegantly, with poise. He didn’t flaunt your relationship. He honored it.

In matches, he played more focused than ever. Your presence didn’t distract—it centered him.

His teammates noticed it, too.

“You’ve changed,” one of them said.

Ness smiled faintly. “No. I’ve just found someone who makes me more myself.”

He started inviting you to team events, walking in with pride—not to show off, but to show you belonged by his side. The fans fell in love with this new side of him—still dazzling, but now softened, like silk that shimmered even brighter in daylight.

Chris Prince

Chris didn’t plan on your relationship going public. If it were up to him, it would’ve stayed quiet, private, safe—just for you and him. But the world had other plans.

A sneaky journalist caught the two of you in a quiet Parisian café, hands intertwined over untouched lattes. The headline?

“Golden Boy Chris Prince Spotted with Mystery Woman—Girlfriend Confirmed?”

At first, he panicked. Not in a messy, flailing way—this was Chris, after all. But in that smooth, refined way where you could feel the tension behind his eyes even as his voice stayed calm.

“I’ll have my team handle it,” he said, jaw tight. “No one needed to know about this. They’ll twist everything.”

You felt a sting at that. “Are you ashamed of me?”

He blinked, stunned. “What? No. God, no. I’m trying to protect you.”

But he saw the doubt in your face. And that—that—hit him harder than any tabloid ever could.

Chris had spent his entire life curating perfection. His image, his body, his brand—each a sculpture carved from relentless discipline. You? You were the one thing he didn’t want to sculpt. You were warmth and laughter and chaotic midnight ice cream runs. You were soft kisses in elevators and falling asleep during his skincare routine.

So when the press didn’t let up—when articles came out dissecting you, speculating on your past, judging your appearance, your career, your “suitability”—Chris snapped.

He posted a video. Simple. Elegant. A full shot of him sitting in a clean, bright room, wearing a navy suit. No music. Just his voice:

“This is for the press, the fans, and anyone else with an opinion. Yes, I’m in a relationship. And no, it’s not up for debate. You don’t get to decide who’s worthy of me. Because she already is—and more.”

The video went viral. Not because it was scandalous, but because Chris Prince—the immaculate, polished poster boy—broke his silence. For you.

And when he came home that night, kicking off his expensive shoes and collapsing next to you on the couch, he looked at you like you were everything.

“I don’t care if it messes with sponsorships or press tours,” he murmured. “I just care that you still want to be here.”

You kissed him. Of course you did.

From that point on, Chris didn’t just accept the public side of your relationship—he embraced it, with grace. But in his way. Controlled, intentional, classy.

Matching outfits at public events. Glances shared across the room. Gentle hand touches in front of cameras. And yes—every now and then, a quote in an interview that made fans melt:

“My greatest achievement? Winning her heart.”

He made loving you look like the most elegant decision he’d ever made. And in private, it felt even better.

Bunny Iglesias

When your relationship with Bunny Iglesias went public, it wasn’t subtle. No whispered confirmations or vague Instagram stories. It was front-page material—literally. A stolen kiss captured by a paparazzo during his victory lap after a big international match. Your arms around his neck, his fingers tangled in your hair, the kiss not just a peck but a declaration. And Bunny? Oh, he loved it.

“I always said I’d make headlines,” he chuckled the morning after, sitting shirtless in the hotel bed with the tabloid spread open in his lap. “But I didn’t think I’d be sharing the spotlight with the love of my life.”

That was the thing about Bunny—he wasn’t the type to hide. If anything, he was annoyed it took this long for the world to catch on. He immediately leaned into the chaos. His next Instagram post? A photo of you both in sunglasses, sipping champagne, captioned:

“For those wondering—yes, I won the match and their heart. 🐰❤️”

But public love wasn’t without its claws. The internet had opinions. Some praised your chemistry, calling you a “power couple.” Others… not so kind. “Why her?” “He could do better.” “She’s just a clout chaser.” The usual venom that slithered into any spotlight romance.

You tried to ignore it at first—but it got to you. One night, scrolling through your DMs, you stumbled on one that made your breath hitch. It was vicious, cruel. You didn’t even realize you’d gone quiet until Bunny looked up from his phone.

“Mi amor,” he said gently, plucking the device from your hands, “don’t give trolls the honor of your attention.”

“But they’re everywhere, Bunny,” you whispered. “What if it gets worse?”

He slid closer, arms wrapping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Then let them scream. You think I care what they say? I’m Bunny Iglesias. I chose you. They’re just jealous they weren’t worth writing love songs about.”

He didn’t just say it—he proved it. Every match after that, he made sure to blow a kiss to the camera and wink. Interviewers asking about his “spectacular form” would be met with smug answers like, “Must be love. Try it sometime.”

He turned your relationship into a bold performance—but behind closed doors, he made sure you felt real. Protected. Worshipped.

“You’re not just someone I’m dating,” he whispered one night while you danced barefoot in the kitchen. “You’re my favorite part of the spotlight.”

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bloomseishiro · 16 days ago

Text

rin knows boyfriend duties include doing whatever his girlfriend asks ₊˚ෆ⊹.ᐟ

“My head hurts,” you whine, resting your chin on Rin’s shoulder.

“When’s the last time you drank water today?” he asks dryly, not a hint of surprise in his voice.

You sniff haughtily but don’t say a word.

“That’s what I figured,” says Rin, standing up to grab your water bottle on the dining table before returning to you. “Here.”

“Thanks, babe,” you say as you smile sheepishly at him.

You take a sip of water before frowning, shaking it around to show the water is mostly gone.

“Wait, before you sit down,” you begin as soon as Rin takes a seat beside you, “could you fill this up for me? The water’s almost out and what’s left isn’t icy cold anymore…”

He sighs but stands back up. “Of course, only ice water for you. How could I forget?”

“You know it!”

Grabbing the water bottle, he heads back to the kitchen to fill it up with ice and fresh water. As soon as Rin returns once more, you ask him for another favor.

“Can you also grab me a snack? Maybe an orange?”

He blinks, eye twitching slightly. “You couldn’t have asked me that while I was still in the kitchen?”

“I only remembered now,” you pout.

Heaving another sigh, he hands you your now filled water bottle and goes to the kitchen once more.

“Clementine or orange?” he calls from the other room.

“Orange. Sliced please.”

“Yes, I know,” says Rin sardonically.

Soon he comes back to you again, a small plate of sweet oranges in his hand. He gives it to you, expression unamused.

“Anything else, princess?”

You tap your cheek thoughtfully. “Well, since you’re asking, could you grab my laptop? It’s all the way upstairs…”

Rin groans at your other request, grumbling as he dutifully trots up the stairs. You giggle to yourself. You don’t even need your laptop, you just thought it would be funny to push his buttons.

This time, when he hands you what you asked for, you smile at him and say, “What a good doggy. You fetch so well.”

An annoyed grumble comes from his throat as his the scowl on his face deepens. Wordlessly, he takes the laptop back from you, then plucks the orange slice you were eating straight out of your mouth.

“Hey!” you cry in surprise, reaching for it back.

“I’m not a dog,” Rin mutters.

“Of course not, puppy,” you tease.”

This time, Rin takes the whole plate from your hand, then snatches your water bottle away too.

You can’t control the laughter that escapes your mouth at his silent protest. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’m only kidding, I promise.”

He rolls his eyes at your giggles, but you spot the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know. But you love me anyway,” you sing, opening your mouth and waiting for him to feed you an orange slice. Which Rin does. Because of course he does. He would do anything for you, no matter how much he fusses about it.

“Unfornately, I do,” he murmurs, pinching your nose teasingly.

“And I love you, too,” you say. “Now give me a kiss.”

“Whatever the princess wants.”

#🌸.writings #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x you #blue lock x you #blue lock #bllk #bllk x you #bllk fluff #rin fluff #bllk drabbles #bllk oneshot #bllk fanfic

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narcissistshandler · 14 days ago

Note

hello! this is my first time to request something, can you write overstimulation for sae or rin? (or other bllk characters if you want). like make them get soo ruined, leg shaking, crying, and begging something like those :) thank u in advanced !

　⸸ .ᐟ S ' G O O D FOR Y O U

「 pairing 」 male reader x itoshi rin / itoshi sae [separately] 「 content 」 overstimulating the Itoshi brothers 「 tags 」 amab!reader, top!reader, sex toys, anal sex, overstimulation (obviously), use of "daddy" (to refer to the reader) on Rin's part

a/n I love the Itoshi brothers, unfortunately Sae's part is more of a bonus and the focus here is more on Rin, but hope you like it! [unedited]

RIN always wants your touch, your complete attention and love so much that it feels like an empty hole unable to be filled. Like a cat, he slides into bed as soon as you push him, no questions asked. So complacent to you. And damn flexible. You can push his legs up to his ears after he can't keep them open any longer, spread wide above his head. Hold them there with one or two hands, the position giving you better access to his hole, and allowing you to see the bulge in his stomach whenever your hips move forward ── your dick rearranging his insides. He's fully exposed like this.

God, yoga really did wonders for your relationship.

Unlike his workouts or stretching, at this moment Rin gasps, seeming to struggle with each breath. "You’re making such a mess. Do you even remember how many times it’s been?" you say. But Rin's tear-filled eyes have already lost focus, his bad habit that you thought was adorable taking over too: his tongue lolling out of his mouth, drooling over himself. He was too far away to hear you.

Rin isn't the type to beg because he simply loses himself in the pleasure. You fucked him for hours on end, cum accompanying each thrust, dripping from his full insides. He can only mumble nonsensically, a complete mess, shaking all over when the heat is suddenly there again, in the pit of his stomach, ready to explode. And he doesn't want to cum again, even though his body throbs and yearns. He doesn't want to, no—

His cock jumps into his stomach, the head an angry red where blood pools. There's a growing pool of fluids collecting there; the last two orgasms haven't gotten anything out of him but a few splashes, his balls too tight to give you something—anything. But he couldn't anymore. He was so sensitive. He was always too sensitive to bear the provocation.

But you push him anyway, feeling his entire body tense, the already relaxed hole around you barely squeezing. "I-I'm gonna—" Rin whimpers, tries, the words barely pronounced. "[n-n-name]... I-I can't— I can't— ahhh..."

"Just one more? Just one more, come on, for me. Come for me again, bunny." You, cruel as you are, smile at him, gyrating your hips in a way that makes you perfectly hit that sweet spot inside him. The stimulation is so much it hurts, so good it hurts his stomach, where your cock seems to reach. Pushing inside him, forcing his insides, over and over and over.

"It’s too much, it’s too much, I— I’m gonna—" he's babbling, toes twitching, shaking his head as if in denial. But his body is obedient and responsive to you.

"What was that? 'Too much?' Come on Rin-chan, you want to be good, don't you? Yes, you do, sweetness," you smile as Rin nods, sweat running down his chest. "You can take it. Just. One. Ngh. More." You keep your grip on his heels, keeping him open as you pound into him, mercilessly, grunting at the delicious heat and the fluttering of the walls as he comes again.

Rin is now crying for real, lips trembling, a drool laced mess. His poor penis twitches and throbs and tenses, but nothing comes out of it. It starts to go limp, having nothing left to give. It looks painful. Rin reaches between you to hold him, his hands shaking like the rest of his body.

You think he'll try to ease the tension, maybe rub the burning away from his sensitive urethra, but he doesn't. Your obedient bunny is masturbating for you. Gritting his teeth, grunting and whimpering, something between a wild animal and sweet prey as he obeys and tries to make himself come again for you, trying to keep his cock hard and ready for your demands.

His green eyes roll back in his skull, his muscular legs bounce and spasm, but you hold them in place, abusing his prostate as Rin pulls himself through the pleasure and pain. For you. Wetting his entire chest and chin, squirting for what feels like an eternity as his entire body struggles to escape his control. Too much. Too much.

Rin gasps, seems to be relearning how to breathe, so out of breath that you fear he's going to pass out, "No more, I c-can’t feel my legs..."

"Every time you whimper it makes me want to keep going just to see how much longer until you break. Although, from the way your lovely cock is dripping, your hole all stretched and smooth, I might already have."

"Plewse—"

His hips buck and he swallows the rest of the word. Oh, he's going to pass out──

"Just a little more, bunny, daddy's so close to cumming, you're not going to let me down, are you? It's okay to cry, baby, you can let your dick go. Obedient thing. Just a little more and I'll let you rest."

Even if in the end Rin was completely in pain and unable to feel his own body, the ultra-sensitive hole and his cock dripping with no sign of pause, he would never stop you from taking your pleasure from him.

He was so good to you.

Tears, begging, obedience and everything.

+ B O N U S: SAE ITOSHI

It's been hours since you started playing with his body, as you lewdly called it. Destroying him, was how Sae preferred to put it. Some people often claimed to enter some sort of subspace when under continuous stimulation, but Sae was hyperaware the entire time. Unable to escape from your hands.

He lost count of how many there were. The toys pushed through the smooth ring of muscles, some so small they barely gave satisfaction, some long ones, which reached so deep that they took his breath away. One was as thick as your fist and Sae might have torn the sheets as he writhed from the overwhelming stretching sensation.

He's already forgotten how to breathe when you pull the powerful little vibrator out of him. It feels like his hole continues to vibrate even now that it's empty, the sensation doesn't go away. The tight ring at the base of his cock didn't help, only making it more cruel. Sae was at your mercy, taking an indecent variety of toys inside him, balls tight with release denied.

"[name]." His voice was low, rouca, the warning clear as day, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the way his hole fluttered weakly against a cabeça de seu pau. "You promised." Sae was shaking like a leaf. You tried to pull him to his knees, but he couldn't stay in position, having slipped down onto the dirty, sticky sheets.

He no longer remembered the promise very well, but it probably had to do with letting him cum after he took the monstrous dildo inside him. And nothing about you pushing your cock against his swollen, sensitive hole.

"Just a little more, I promise. I'll let you cum as soon as I have my cock buried deep inside you."

"[name]," He gasps, not believing you. You would finish off what was left of him.

"Yes?"

Sae's hole throbbed, his cock felt like it was about to explode beneath his body, and everything about him was sweaty and hot. The denial, the stimulation, hurt. But he still wanted your cock so badly──

"Yes... Please."

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neeeooon · 4 months ago

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hi hi this is my 2nd time requesting alrdy 🥶😅😅.... lol anyway, I wanna I request for bllk boys meeting reader's parents unexpectedly. like reader's parents catch them being very undeniably couple-y. Very very awkward situation 😋☝️☝️

I rlly wanna see this specifically with Isagi, Reo, Shidou, Yuki, and Rin. Other characters would be fun too if you want🔥🔥🔥

hihi welcome back 😈 okay i think i gotchu I HOPE YOU ENJOYY

when your parents walk in on you ;

bf bllk x gn!reader. 16+ cw: suggestive!!! kms jokes in isagi’s + reo’s

isagi yoichi

-> isagi just scored the winning goal in the final nel game, and he still hadn’t come down from that high hours later

-> your fingers dragged through his hair and down his neck, scraping the back of his jersey as he shoved you against your bedroom wall. your parents were out for date night, giving you plenty of time alone with your boyfriend

-> it was supposed to give you plenty of time alone with your boyfriend

-> isagi groaned against your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips. and then you heard it. “y/n? are you alright, sweetheart?”

-> you barely had time to shove isagi off before your bedroom door was pushed open, and your mother let out a loud gasp upon seeing you, lips swollen and t-shirt rumpled. “m-mom! what are you doing home?”

-> “your father got food poisoning. hi! you must be yoichi!” your face burned as she approached your boyfriend with an outstretched hand. “mom!” “uh, y-yes ma’am.” he greeted as he shook it with two hands. “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

-> you wanted to die. after taking way too long to talk to your boyfriend, your mom finally left. “door open, kids!” you dropped your face into your hands and groaned, “i am going to kill myself.” “suicide pact?” “deal.”

mikage reo

-> you had study sessions with reo all the time. your parents knew he was intelligent, and though they’d never met him, they trusted the two of you to keep things innocent when he was over

-> and yet your homework was long forgotten as you sat comfortably in your boyfriend’s lap, back pressed against the desk as he kissed you hard

-> you didn’t hear the door open. you didn’t know your parents were home until you caught a glimpse of your mother’s stance from behind reo’s head, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she tapped a manicured finger against her forearm

-> you practically fell out of reo’s lap and landed with a thump. “mom! uh, what are you doing home so early?”

-> she isn’t impressed. “i already have a headache. i’m assuming i don’t have to stay up any later to give you both the talk, do i?”

-> aaaaand you’re ready to curl in on yourself and die. “oh my god.” “guessed not. nice to meet you, reo. make sure you’re home before tomorrow.” “you too, mrs l/n. i’ll be leaving now.”

shidou ryusei

-> “my parents are going to be home any minute…” you sighed when shidou slipped one hand beneath the waistband of your sweats, the other slowly making its way under your shirt. “lucky for you, cutie, i only need one to make you—”

-> “l/n y/n?!” you scrambled out from under your boyfriend, clutching your hands to your chest as you gaped at your parents standing in your doorway

-> “haven’t you heard of knocking?!” “this is our house. and we were coming to wish you a goodnight! who’s he?!”

-> you knew for a fact that your parents knew you had a boyfriend. however, you always described him as someone sweet who takes care of you and makes you laugh. your parents seemed caught off guard by the spiky pink hair and heavy eyeliner

-> your silence gives shidou the chance to reach a hand out for your mother to shake. “it’s a pleasure. i’m shidou ryusei.” your mother eyes his hand warily before shaking it. “hm. mrs. l/n.”

-> thankfully your father has enough trust in you to gently pull your mother from your room. he quietly greets shidou, compliments his hair, and wishes you both a goodnight

-> “i cannot believe that just happened,” you groan as you flop back onto your bed. shidou falls beside you and places a soft kiss to your neck. “oh well. your dad seems cool, at least. want me to leave?” “uh uh. you promised me a minute.” “😈”

yukimiya kenyu

-> you’re watching a movie with your boyfriend, parents visiting your uncle and aunt, when you’re suddenly bored with the film on screen

-> quietly, you slip from the couch into a kneeling position, yukimiya’s eyes following you the whole way down. “uh, y/n?” “mhm?” “what are you doing?” “nothing~” “what if your parents—“ “i checked their location. they’re still forty-five minutes away.”

-> you move directly in front of your boyfriend, hands sliding up from his shins to his knees when the door suddenly opens

-> your dad freezes when his eyes land on you and yukimiya. “dad!” you shout, jumping to your feet as your boyfriend hurridly throws a blanket over his hips. “why didn’t you knock?!”

-> he has a hand over his eyes in a tired fashion. “i bought this house. why did you decide to do that in the living room?” “… oh.” “yeah, oh.” “.. this is my boyfriend, yukimiya.” “i figured.”

-> yukimiya doesn’t trust himself to stand, so he waves as your dad from the couch. “n-nice to meet you..?” your mother finally appears, smiling brightly and cluelessly when she spots your boyfriend. “oh! you must be kenyu!” “hello, mrs l/n.” “we were just heading to bed. enjoy the rest of your movie!”

-> your parents leave, not without your father giving you “the look” before trailing after your mother. you drop onto the couch with a sigh. “your house next time?” “definitely.”

itoshi rin

-> you were innocently teaching rin how to cook. alone. while your parents were at work. they only agreed since you promised to introduce your boyfriend to them (and cook dinner)

-> it starts out that way. you and rin, side by side, mixing ingredients and making sauces. however, your fingers are now running over your boyfriend’s shoulder muscles as he carefully lifts you onto the counter, never breaking your kiss

-> you weren’t quite sure what set you off, but you suddenly needed to be as close to your boyfriend as humanly possible. he didn’t have any objections, hands trailing from your hips to your back when the soft jingle of keys breaks you apart

-> “was that—“ “no… no way, right?” wrong. the door swings open, and rin flies to the other side of the kitchen as he pretends to read the recipe book

-> “y/n!” your mother greets, heels in hand as she comes over to kiss your cheek. she pauses in front of you, wiggles her eyebrows at your flushed face, and shoots a secretive smile in rin’s direction. “aw, my little lovebirds~ i’m so happy to finally meet you, rin!”

-> rin waves awkwardly from his side of the kitchen, earning a little laugh from your mother. she sighs, “oh, to be young and in love again! i’m headed to the store. i’ll be back in twenty minutes for dinner. twenty.” she winks at you before vanishing out the front door, leaving you shocked to the core

-> “i—“ “so that really just happened?” “well, at least my mother likes you..?” you finish dinner as quickly as possible, keeping a safe distance away from each other, and groan in embarrassment when your mom jiggles her keys and kicks the door before opening it. “let’s eat!”

pt 2

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i2rizz · 3 months ago

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You're so welcome! Anytime you get hate, just photoshop that message over it.

As for request: If Isagi, Kaiser, Rin and Sae turned into children for a day, how would they act with Reader trying to care for them until they changed back?

This gives off "dont worry kitten, daddy will take care of them" AND IM GIGGLING SO HARD RN

Anyways I wasn’t sure if you wanted them to retain their memories but in a child’s body, or if you wanted them to fully become children with no recollection of anything. I went with the first option where they keep their personalities and memories, but they’re in a child’s body with the mindset of a child. If you were thinking of something different, let me know and I can redo it!

Also, don't mind the reader not being shocked when seeing them like this. If I added her reaction, the scenarios would get way too long (i was lazy) , so just pretend she was confused and shocked when she first saw them or smth :>

Bllk boys turned into children

Isagi Yoichi

You wake up to the sound of something crashing in the kitchen. Rushing in, you’re met with… a child. A little boy with wide blue eyes, holding a shattered cereal bowl and looking very guilty.

“Who are you!?” you gasp.

“It’s me! Isagi!” the kid wails.

And yup—there’s that panicked overthinking in his voice. It’s him. Just… tiny.

Turns out, Isagi is the kind of child who overanalyzes EVERYTHING.

“Do you think the cereal ratio was wrong?”

“Should I have taken the left path instead of jumping off the couch?”

“Am I… still a genius?”

He follows you around like a duckling, refusing to let go of your hand and insisting he needs “tactical support” to climb onto the couch. He keeps trying to explain football strategies using stick figures and crayons, and by the time he falls asleep curled up in your lap, whispering something about being your number one player, you’re emotionally wrecked.

Michael Kaiser

Kaiser doesn’t cry when he turns into a child. No. He struts out of the bathroom wearing your sunglasses and dragging your blanket like a cape.

"Still hot," he says, throwing you a wink.

You nearly pass out from a mix of confusion and secondhand embarrassment.

Kaiser as a kid is a menace. He draws on the walls (signing it King Michael I), steals your snacks, and demands to be carried like royalty.

“You’re lucky to have me like this,” he says while getting chocolate on your favorite shirt.

But then he trips trying to show off, scrapes his knee, and suddenly he’s crying and reaching for you like the world’s ending. You kiss his forehead, whispering that he's okay, and he sniffles:

"Don’t tell anyone I cried. Not even adult me"

Later, he insists on sleeping in your bed because “there are monsters in the dark, and you’re the only one who can protect me”

Itoshi Rin

Rin is not having it. He’s tiny, mad, and glaring at you from under your hoodie because everything else is “ugly”

“You’re ugly,” he mutters.

You raise a brow. “Rin”

He sighs. “…I didn’t mean that”

Child-Rin is introverted and pouty but clings to you when no one’s looking. He refuses to eat unless you make it, refuses to nap unless you’re holding him, and glares at the mirror like it's personally responsible for turning him into a toddler.

You catch him watching your every move with those moody ocean eyes, and when you ask what’s wrong, he finally admits in a tiny whisper:

“Didn’t want to be small… Can’t protect you like this”

Your heart melts. You kneel, brushing his bangs aside, and say, “You’re still my Rin. That’s all I need”

Cue him hiding his face in your shoulder.

Itoshi Sae

Sae, as a child, is… exactly the same. Just smaller. And ruder.

You find him in your kitchen drinking milk from a wine glass, legs crossed, acting like he’s judging the entire world.

“Why are your floors so cold?” he asks like it’s a personal offense.

You gape. “Sae!?”

He sighs dramatically. “I know. I’m adorable. Don’t touch me”

He absolutely refuses to wear anything that doesn’t match, brushes his hair with your fancy brush, and scolds your cat for not respecting his “space”

But under all that salt? He’s so soft for you.

He tugs your sleeve while you’re washing dishes and mutters, “...Carry me”

You oblige, and he curls into you like he’s never been held before.

Later that night, he falls asleep mid-conversation on your chest, clutching your shirt and mumbling, “Don’t leave me alone when I’m big again either…”

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rosierin · 3 months ago

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some things never change │ suna rintarou

synopsis; the twins & suna decide to watch a horror movie, much to (y/n)'s disdain. later that night, when the darkness stares back at her, she's unable to sleep and asks to stay in her childhood friend's room—suna.

a/n; hi guys!!! thanks so much for the support you've been giving me lately! im starting to recognise some of my regular likers & reposters hehe, y'all are sick <33

this fic is only a short one, but i feel like i've been focusing a lot on atsumu lately, even osamu's got his own story but I haven't given suna any attention whatttt

so anyway here ya go hehe, a lil fic focusing on (y/n) and suna's relationship

also!! this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

She shouldn’t have watched that horror movie.

She didn’t even like them in the first place. Whether it was a mere thriller, downright gory, or whatever lay in between, (y/n) avoided them like the plague.

But on a random Saturday night, when boredom seeped into the apartment like a wet blanket, someone (Atsumu) decided it’d be a good idea to liven things up by putting on Rings.

Now—allegedly—this movie wasn’t actually scary. That’s what Suna had said, anyway.

“It’s corny. Barely makes it as a horror film, to be honest. More like a bad comedy.”

Bullshit.

There was absolutely nothing corny, let alone comedic, about an undead lady possessing old VHS tapes and crawling out of TVs to MURDER someone.

Didn’t matter what the twins or Suna thought.

It was terrifying.

And now—in the dead of night, when everything was silent—it was even worse.

The room was pitch black, save for the tiny red dot on her television, staring back at her like the sight of a sniper.

(Y/n) glared at it, unblinking, unwilling to look away.

Because if—God forbid—it turned blue on its own, that meant the TV had somehow switched on.

That meant she was coming.

That meant (y/n) was done for.

Her heartbeat thumped against her ribs, heavy and panicked.

Then—

Creak.

A floorboard groaned against the stillness of the room, nearly sending (y/n) into a full-blown panic attack.

Nope. Nope.

Enough was enough.

She tossed the covers aside and bolted.

Her feet barely touched the floor as she sprinted into the hallway, the cool air hitting her like a slap.

She stopped there, pressing a hand over her racing heart, trying to collect herself.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Her pulse slowly settled, but her pride took a hit. Because realistically, was she being dramatic?

Absolutely.

But could she be blamed?

Not even a little.

From a safe distance, she cautiously peered back into her bedroom—half-expecting to see Sadako standing in the corner, her long, raven hair hanging lifelessly over her face.

Instead—darkness.

Eerie. Looming. Suffocating.

A shiver crawled up her spine.

Nope.

She was not going back in there.

The twins were most likely asleep. No way was she waking Atsumu up—he’d never let her live it down. And she felt too guilty waking up poor Osamu.

That left only one option.

Suna.

He was the only one who would still be awake. And the only one who wouldn’t judge her too hard.

Well— that was debatable.

Regardless, she turned toward his room—the floor suddenly feeling way too open, way too exposed.

She scurried up the stairs to his loft.

And then, standing outside his door, she hesitated.

Would he think she was being ridiculous?

Would he even let her in?

She inhaled. Then—knock, knock.

A long pause.

Then, finally, a sleepy, unimpressed voice from inside:

“This better be a life-or-death situation.”

(Y/n) pressed her lips together, second guessing her choices.

“Rin— it’s me.”

Soft footfalls came from the other side, then it opened, revealing a very tired, very unamused Suna.

She should have known he wouldn’t be so sympathetic.

She barely had the chance to shuffle inside before he hit her with that unimpressed, half-lidded stare, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, blocking the way in.

"To what do I owe the pleasure..."

His low, sarcastic drawl, paired with the slight twitch of his eyebrow made (y/n) shift uncomfortably.

Despite knowing each other for so long, growing up side by side, she had never grown immune to those eyes of his— always tired, always unreadable, but never oblivious.

He held her gaze in silent question, only to huff out a laugh when (y/n) picked absently at a loose thread on her sleeve, blatantly ignoring him.

“Lemme guess," he droned. "You can’t sleep after watching that movie, can you?"

(Y/n) sighed, accepting her fate.

Of course he knew.

“Yes,” she admitted plainly. She knew there was no point in lying—Suna could read her like a book. Knowing him, he probably saw this coming before she did.

“Can I sleep in your room?”

A smirk tugged at his lips, lazy and taunting. “What are you, ten?”

A pout.

An eye roll.

Then, after a dramatic sigh, Suna stepped aside. “Fine. Get in.”

(Y/n) wasted no time, practically diving into Suna’s bed before he could change his mind. She refused to spend another second alone in her room, haunted by the thought of someone crawling out of her TV.

She tugged the blankets up to her chin, peeking at Suna as he climbed back into bed beside her, moving like he’d been seconds from sleep before she knocked. His hair was slightly tousled, his expression drowsy as he got comfortable.

Then, as soon as the room settled into silence—

Creeeeak.

(Y/n) flinched so hard she nearly jumped out of bed.

Her breath hitched. “Did you hear that?”

Suna didn’t even look up from his phone. “No.”

(Y/n) swallowed, fingers clutching the blanket. “…It came from your closet.”

A slow blink.

Then, finally, Suna dragged his gaze toward her. “Don’t tell me—“

“Can you go check?”

A stare.

A beat of silence.

“Please?”

“You seriously want me to go look inside my closet?”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide and pleading.

Resigned, Suna let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

He threw off the covers and stood up, trudging over to the closet with the enthusiasm of a man being sent to war. Normally, she would’ve bit back, tossed a jab right back at him—but right now, she couldn’t even register his teasing. Her focus was locked entirely on the closet, her pulse ticking anxiously in her throat as she braced for whatever unspeakable horror lurked inside.

She held her breath.

Suna grabbed the handle.

Opened the door.

Stared into the darkness.

Then—his body suddenly jolted back, his face twisting in alarm.

(Y/n) nearly screamed.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, her soul halfway to the afterlife—

And then, completely deadpan, Suna turned back around.

“Just kidding.”

Silence hung in the air. The tense kind.

Then, (y/n) launched a pillow straight at his head.

Suna snickered, catching it effortlessly before crawling back into bed. “You make this too easy.”

(Y/n) groaned, pulling the covers over her head, sinking into the plush mattress. “You suck. That was so mean.”

“You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes at his sass, peeking from the duvet. “I should’ve gone to Osamu’s room instead.”

Suna hummed, lazily scrolling through Instagram reels with slow flicks of his thumb. “You say that, but you never do.” His eyes remained on the screen, the faint glow casting shadows across his face, but the amused lilt in his voice told her he was fully aware of her reaction.

(Y/n) frowned slightly, opening her mouth to respond—but then, something about his words lingered.

Because… he was right.

She always ended up here.

Even as kids, she had always ended up with him.

(Y/n) shifted slightly, glancing over her shoulder. “…We used to do this all the time, huh?”

Suna exhaled, his expression softening into something quieter— softer. “Yeah.”

Suna’s quiet confirmation made warmth bloom in her chest. And that’s when the memories came flooding in—hazy, golden images of their childhood. All the laughs and secrets they shared.

She could almost smell the summer air, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint smokiness of a dying bonfire clinging to her clothes. She could almost feel the heat of a cup of hot chocolate warming her palms, the crinkle of sleeping bags shifting beneath them as they huddled close in the dim glow of a flashlight. She remembered staying up for hours, making up stories, daring each other to peek outside into the dark, until exhaustion finally took over.

The memory was so vivid in her mind, so innocent and sweet that she couldn’t help but smile. Her heart swelled with a bittersweet kind of warmth—the kind that only came with remembering something you could never quite return to.

“Remember that one time we slept in your backyard in a tent?” (Y/n) asked, her voice light with nostalgia.

Suna didn’t answer right away. She watched as he lowered his phone onto the nightstand, screen dimming to black. For a moment, his face was illuminated only by the moonlight pouring through the window, his expression almost pensive. He lay sprawled on his back, one arm resting lazily over his stomach, the other tucked beneath his head. Then, a small huff of laughter escaped him, almost like the memory had tugged it out against his will.

“Yeah,” he murmured, stretching one arm out into the darkness, fingers splaying lazily before curling back in. His hand hovered there for a second, as if feeling the weight of the air, then flopped onto his chest. “You got scared of an owl and made me go inside with you.”

(Y/n) gasped, scandalized. “That’s not how it happened!”

She sat up a little, but Suna only chuckled, slow and amused. His other hand drifted absently over his bedsheets, fingertips tracing the fabric in lazy patterns. His lips twitched, but he didn’t correct himself.

“Go on, then. Tell me what happened,” he drawled, eyes glinting faintly in the dark.

(Y/n) propped herself up on her elbows, clicking her tongue. “First of all, the owl was fine. The real problem was a certain someone telling me stories about a serial killer who targets campers.”

Suna let out a quiet noise of vague acknowledgement, tilting his head back against the pillow. “Hm. I don’t recall.”

(Y/n) scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “You specifically said he only goes for ‘the one who falls asleep last,’ so then I felt so stressed to the point I wasn’t even tired anymore.”

At that, the corner of his lips twitched, like he was trying—and failing—not to laugh. “That does sound like something I’d say.”

(Y/n) huffed, flopping onto her back again. “You’re such a bully, honestly.”

“Did I not wait until you fell asleep first, though?”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, but the gesture lacked any real annoyance. A coy smile crept onto her lips, the hush of an old memory settling over her. “I guess you did.”

“There you go.” He stretched an arm over his head, voice laced with smugness. “And yet I hear no ‘thank you, Rin. You’re the best.’”

“It was literally years ago.”

“And yet here you are, still asking to sleep in my bed.”

(Y/n) turned her head just in time to catch the flicker of satisfaction on his face, the way he barely concealed his smirk in the dim light. She squinted her eyes at him, reaching over to shove his arm, but he barely reacted—just let it happen, too used to her antics to be fazed.

Then the conversation faded, the teasing melting into quiet. The air shifted into something softer, something more intimate. Because really, it didn’t feel like much had changed at all.

They were older now, sure. But they still ended up here, side by side, whispering into the quiet.

(Y/n) exhaled, letting her gaze drift over the ceiling. “Feels like we never really grew up.”

Suna hummed lowly, shifting just a little. His hand twitched like he might reach for something but thought better of it. “Nope.”

Silence settled between them, rich with lingering memories of the past. If (y/n) closed her eyes, she could almost hear it—the sharp, carefree laughter echoing off sun-warmed pavement, the rhythmic splashing of pool water as they tried to dunk each other under, the rustling of grass beneath their backs as they gazed up at the clouds, pointing out shapes only they could see.

Things were different now.

They didn’t spend summers chasing each other through sprinklers or racing bikes until the streetlights flickered on.

Now, their time together looked a little different—late-night drives with the windows down, sitting in parking lots sharing fast food, trading woes about the weight of adulthood over the rim of coffee cups. Deadlines, expectations, the quiet pressure of figuring out who they were supposed to be. Their conversations had shifted from debating which anime protagonist was the coolest to venting about work, school, and the creeping realization that growing up wasn’t as exciting as they once thought.

But beneath it all, they were still the same kids who never ran out of things to talk about, the same unshakable duo who could sit in silence and still feel understood. Some things had changed, but their friendship never had.

The thought made her pleasantly sleepy, wrapping around her like a worn-in sweater.

Maybe it was the weight of nostalgia, or just the way comfort made habit so easy to slip back into, but (y/n) shifted closer without much thought, hooking an arm around Suna's torso like it was second nature. Nothing dramatic. Nothing to overthink. Just something she always did—or rather, used to do.

Suna huffed out a quiet laugh, glancing down at her with a rare kind of fondness. “Aren’t you a little old for this?”

(Y/n) only hummed, unbothered, her grin never wavering. “Maybe. But I don’t see you pushing me away.”

He didn’t. Instead, he smiled, shaking his head in quiet amusement as she nestled into the fabric of his oversized t-shirt. His body was warm—solid, safe, the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat a tune she was long accustomed to.

Without a word, Suna reached over, resting an arm over her waist like it was the easiest thing in the world.

(Y/n) let out a slow breath, her body finally unclenching from the tension that stupid horror movie had left behind.

And for the first time that night, she felt safe.

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