#blue lock fandom

[ii-shiro]

Fetishes.

+18! - SMUT .

! ft ; Meguru Bachira, Itoshi Rin, Mikage Reo, Ryusei Shidou, Itoshi Sae, Tabito Karasu, Shouei Barou, Seishiro Nagi.

• Omniscient narrator.

• Remember, this is a translation. I speak Spanish, but this is translated.

What is the fetish of...?

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Meguru Bachira !

Bachira is very playful, and one of his greatest fetishes is role-playing games. Knowing that Y/N would act as the game dictates, that he would always dominate. She may be a mere student, and he, her teacher, who has complete control over her, loves feeling dominant. He appears innocent, but his dominance doesn't diminish in the face of this appearance. He knows how to dominate, when to let Y/N dominate, and how to dominate specifically. But playing that role-play drives him crazy, it excites him so much. Thinking about Y/N, so defenseless, simply innocent, and him, the dominant one, the one who must defend her—that idea excites him.

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Itoshi Rin !

Rin's fetish is undoubtedly Y/N's body. He is overstimulated by every part of it, but he favors Y/N's thighs and butt; he sees them as so plump, so appetizing. Rin loves to lick, bite, kiss and leave his mark on Y/N, the way Y/N reacts, moaning, asking for more, Rin is excited to mark her and for her to ask for even more marks, more touch.

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Mikage Reo !

Reo's fetish is hitting his girlfriend, not out of violence, but rather, he likes slapping Y/N's breasts and butt. He loves watching them deform like a simple but delicious flan.While Reo loves this, he's torn between what he likes more: slapping Y/N's breasts and butt, or seeing the reddish marks it leaves on his lover's skin. It's a very difficult question for Reo.

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Ryusei Shidou !

Shidou's fetish is, without a doubt, Y/N's voice. While Shidou finds it difficult to explain this fetish, he backs it up in Y/N's moans, the way she asks him to do certain things to her, like moaning, panting, or sighing his name.

Shidou loves Y/N's voice, the way she begs him for more, the way she moans his name, or even the sounds she makes when he's choking her with his penis.

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Itoshi Sae !

Sae's fetish is talking dirty to Y/N, verbally humiliating her, and having her nod along to whatever he says. If he says she's a fucking whore, she'll just nod, humiliating herself. He also loves humiliating her by exhausting her and making fun of her for not being able to keep up with him. But talking dirty to her without complaining definitely turns him on. His superiority over her makes him eager for more.

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Tabito Karasu !

We all know that Karasu is extremely skilled with his hands. His fetish is keeping Y/N in the 69 position. This allows him to use his hands very freely, inserting one or two fingers of each hand inside her, while Y/N sucks his hardness. It's a fantasy he always manages to fulfill.

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Shouei Barou !

He's the king. His fetish is reminding Y/N that he's the king, that he's the one who decides whether to increase speed, strength, whether to stop doing it, in what position to do it. This fetish on Shouei's part excites him. He's excited by the thought that he controls whether Y/N is a pawn, the queen, or even the king, whether she can control him or he can control her.

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Seishiro Nagi !

Nagi's fetish might be Y/N's voice, her body, the way she moves. Nagi is a little lazy to think of anything that overstimulates him about Y/N.

But if he has to choose something, thinking about it carefully, he can say that his fetish is the way she moves when she's on top. He's too lazy to move on top of Y/N, but she makes him feel so good when she rides him, the way she bounces on him, the way she moves her pelvis and causes more depth. His arousal goes through the roof just thinking about that.

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a/n ; written by me! @ii-shiro

[uns4lted]

ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ

pairings: karasu tabito x gn!reader, otoyo eita x gn!reader, kenyu yukimiya x gn! reader tags/warnings: reader and karasu are already together, pre-relationship stage in otoya's and kenyu's! genre: fluff synopsis: the first time the boys realized that they're in love with you. boys being so giddy lol.

── .✦ karasu tabito

It was just a stupid crush, really.

At least, that’s what Karasu told himself in the beginning. Liking you had been easy. You made things fun, kept him entertained with your quick wit and little quirks. Being with you felt like a game he couldn’t lose, but he didn’t think too much about what it all meant. Love? That was too heavy for something that felt so light.

But then there was that moment.

It wasn’t anything big. Just an ordinary evening in his place. You were on the couch, reading a novel, while some random show played in the background. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with his own phone in hand, pretending to care about whatever it was on the screen.

You sighed, soft and quiet, but enough to pull his attention away. When he glanced up, you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was distant, you were caught in a thought you weren’t planning to share.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice casual, not expecting much of an answer.

“Nothing,” you said after a pause, your lips curving into a faint smile. “I just feel lucky, that’s all.”

You didn’t explain, didn’t even look at him for long. Instead, your hand found its way to his dark blue hair, brushing through it in a way that was both careless and comforting. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but something about the way you did it this time made his chest feel tight. You were so at ease that being with him was the most natural thing in the world.

He stayed quiet, watching as you went back to your book like you hadn’t just shifted his entire perspective. It wasn’t just what you said—it was how you said it, it wasn’t something you had to think about. Like being grateful for him was as simple as breathing.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. Usually, he’d have some smart remark ready, some way to brush off whatever you were making him feel. But now? He just sat there, staring at you, wondering how he hadn’t seen it before.

He couldn’t pinpoint when the shift had happened. Maybe it was gradual, something that had been building all along. But in that moment, he knew with absolute certainty: this wasn’t just some crush or infatuation. It was deeper than that. You’d become something he didn’t think he needed, something he couldn’t imagine letting go.

Karasu leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The warmth of your words lingered, settling into places he didn’t even realize had been empty.

Love wasn’t supposed to sneak up on him like this. Somehow, you’d done it anyway.

── .✦ otoya eita

This goofy womanizer doesn’t do love or some shit.

Otoya wasn’t the type to lose sleep over anyone. Flirting came easy, and leaving things just the way they were made it even easier. He knew how to have a good time, how to make someone laugh or blush, but feelings? Commitment? Nah, that wasn’t his thing. Relationships were messy, and Otoya didn’t stick around long enough to get caught in all that.

Or so he thought.

It was late, the kind of night where the city outside his window had shifted to a low hum. You were over, laid across his bed and flipping through a magazine you’d brought with you. He leaned against the headboard, half-listening to you ramble about something you’d found amusing in the pages.

“Look at this,” you said, your voice bright as you held up the magazine. The glossy picture was of some ridiculous piece of clothing—a neon-green sweater with feathers along the sleeves. “Can you imagine someone actually wearing this?”

Otoya smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging up lazily. “You’d pull it off.”

“Oh, please.” You laughed, the sound light and effortless, but your eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. “You’re just saying that so I won’t roast your fashion choices next.”

“Hey, my style’s flawless, thank you very much,” he shot back, nudging your leg with his foot.

The banter was easy, the kind he thrived on. But he's bothered with the look you gave him, your smile plastered on your lips, the sparkle in your eyes that paused just a moment longer than it should have. That did something to him.

“You’re so full of yourself, Otoya,” you said, shaking your head, but your smile didn’t waver.

“And you love it though,” he retorted, his grin widening.

But as the words hung in the air, he realized how much he wished they were true.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your magazine, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly pounding harder than it had any right to. He tried to shake it off, but it was no use. His gaze kept drifting back to you—how comfortable you looked.

He didn’t know what was worse: the way you didn’t seem to notice how much of a mess you were making of him, or the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

When you stretched out your arm, holding the magazine over to him, your fingers brushed his for just a second. It wasn’t anything special, just an ordinary moment. But for Otoya, it felt like everything else faded for a heartbeat.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head when he didn’t respond right away.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, his voice too casual. “Just tired.”

That night, after you’d left, Otoya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence felt too loud, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Heard your laugh. Felt the warmth of your smile.

“Damn it,” he muttered, rolling onto his side.

He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to want someone so badly it hurts. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.

You weren’t just another thrill. You’d become something that had him turning and tossing in bed, wondering how the hell he’d let himself fall this hard.

── .✦ kenyu yukimiya

Kenyu had always been focused. Soccer demanded it, and so did modeling. Juggling both wasn’t easy, but he never complained. He’d chosen this path after all. What he hadn’t chosen or even planned for was you.

At first, he thought your support was just a pure act of kindness. You’d always been there, cheering him on, listening when he talked about the challenges of balancing his passions. But over time, it became clear that you weren’t just being polite. You genuinely cared—about his dreams, his struggles, even the small things he sometimes overlooked himself.

The realization didn’t hit him all at once. It came slowly, building with every little thing you did. Like today.

The two of you were at the mall, your idea after he mentioned needing new clothes for an upcoming shoot. Kenyu wasn’t bad at picking out outfits but you insisted he deserved a second opinion.

“Try this,” you said, holding up a sleek black jacket. “It’s simple but classy. Totally your vibe.”

He took it with a small smile, letting your enthusiasm guide him. You had an eye for these things, and he trusted your judgment more than he cared to admit.

As he stepped out of the fitting room, you were waiting, your expression lighting up when you saw him.

“See? I told you it’d look good,” you said, giving him an approving nod. “The fit’s perfect, and it goes with almost everything.”

He turned to the mirror, studying the way the jacket fit across his shoulders. It was nice, sure, but what stuck with him more was the way you looked at him. You weren’t just proud of the outfit but of him too.

"Didn't know you had such good taste." he said, half-teasing. “Maybe you should be my stylist.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d love to, but I think your team would have a thing or two to say about that.”

The two of you wandered through the store for a while longer, you occasionally holding up shirts or accessories, and him silently appreciating the way you paid attention to the smallest details. You truly cared about how he felt in them, about making sure he was confident and comfortable.

At some point, as you stood next to him, you were holding up a scarf and debating its practicality, then it hit him.

This wasn’t just about being a fashion guru or supporting his career. It was about you—your thoughtfulness, your sincerity, and the way you noticed and valued even the smallest things about him.

His chest tightened for a moment that he forgot how to speak.

“Kenyu?” you asked, tilting your head at him. “Is everything alright?”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… thanks for helping me with this.”

“Of course,” you said, brushing it off like it was nothing. But to him, it wasn’t nothing.

After everything had settled, the two of you decided to leave the mall. His thoughts kept circling back to the moment. He couldn’t remember when it had begun, but he knew now that this was more than just appreciation for your support.

He is in love with you.

The realization was unexpected, but it left him feeling lighter, as if he’d discovered something he didn’t know he’d been searching for.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! masterlist

[starrydawnsleeper]

── .✦ aiku might act all tough and dominant, but he's just a needy boy after a long day of practice who just wants to bury his cock inside you. he wouldn't even move, just put you flushed close to his chest, his cock warm inside you, twitching sometimes.

but when he's too tired, he wouldn't even care to remove clothes cause he just wants to stay close to you.

he'd come back home in his white uniform, that's just slightly dull from working out the whole day. he'd then ask if you'd want to shower with him, cause he loves when you lather him up with soap and his abs would still be visible and you'd end up getting flustered, though he's literally your boyfriend.

and even if he's the tired one, he'd pick you up after shower and place you on the bed and dry you up. "don't want you to catch a cold. sex can wait." he said, as he continued drying your hair. as you both were done drying, he places a soft kiss on your head and lays you down.

your view is quite a sight to see. aiku's naked on top of you, his abs glistening from the after-shower. his hair was dried too, just a little damp, curling around his ears and the green strands at the back stayed unruly cause he didn't style it at night. his heterochromic eyes fixated right at you, his gaze wasn't lust, just pure love, "can i?" he mumbled, closing the distance and falling on you, really gently. you nodded, smiling slightly.

"you're so pretty...i need you."

"i'm already yours tho...?" you raise an eyebrow playfully, as he raises his head just enough to look at you.

"really? i still need you though, baby. can i put it in? or do you want me to loosen you up?" he asks straightening up, placing his cock at your entrance, waiting for your consent.

"it's fine. you can go in without prep..." you bite your lip at the end, unsure of what you just said cause his dick was definitely not the type to be taken in without prep.

taking his dick in his hand, aiku tilts his head, waiting for your confirmation once more. you nod in response, cause fuck, it did feel good.

he had gone in without prep multiple times before and then the mornings ended up lazy with him taking care of you but everytime he asked for your consent before going in like that.

"oh baby, you're doing so well, just hold on for a bit more." he praised, trying to insert his dick inside you. only the head was in and you were already red in your face from how sweet aiku was being. and it definitely didn't go unnoticed. "i see that blush baby. is that my doing?" he asks, smirking. "no." you respond sarcastically, pulling him in for a small kiss.

"hah—fuck—all in," he moans, sliding beside you after a while. you whimper, clutching his biceps.

"are you going to keep it in...the whole night?" you ask, voice shaking a bit from the pain and pleasure mixed with happiness.

"you don't want me to? i'll remove it after a while then." he nods, pulling you closer to him, one hand on your hip to keep his cock inside you while the other caressesed your cheek.

"no...i meant—you can...if you like..." you shrug, acting nonchalant but your cheeks were definitely not helping.

"mhm okay baby got it. now stay close." he rubs circles on your hips, his eyes already half lidded.

and before you both could realise, y'all had fallen asleep. it's not like sex always ended like this with aiku, only when you both were tired after a long day. but...this did feel way more intimate than having sex.✦──

[dumbpsique]

DATING OLIVER AIKU; how it feels.

|If by a miracle you won this man's heart, what kind of boyfriend would he be?

|Red stars: NSFW

☆ I disagree with those who say that Oliver is not jealous. He is absolutely very jealous, after all, he understands very well how the male mind works.

☆ lots of hugs in public, without caring if the entire press is pointing cameras at you.

☆ He wakes up early and plays on his cell phone, which means he will have lots of photos of you sleeping with your mouth open, drooling or even videos of you snoring.

☆ It absolutely makes you embarrassed. without wanting to? Don't be silly, it's a hobby.

☆ He eats while playing on his cell phone, so while you're complaining about all your problems, he's watching some tiktok at full volume.

☆ your dates are car trips where you can put your feet up, choose the music and adjust the air conditioning temperature.

☆ When he comes into contact with kids, he acts like an idiot, running after them, spinning them around, jumping, doing whatever they want. then you comment about wanting to start a family and he blanches "god, no."

☆ 100% needy when he wants something. holding onto your waist, sniffing your neck and whispering "pleeeeease" in your ear.

☆ calls you the most shameful petnames possible in public. Are you in front of a waiter? "my little parakeet." They are having lunch with his parents "cute baby, can you pass the salt?" Yes, he is ridiculous.

☆ He never knows how to give you gifts, he always buys the most expensive one.

☆ thinks you're the hottest woman in the world and loves showing off by your side. points to all the guys on the team "that's my girl"

☆ He stresses you out in fights because he doesn't respond to your insults. use sarcasm or just respond with "okok, if you think you're right"

☆ his parents adore him. Oliver is a natural extrovert and even gets along well with his grandparents. he talks about football, helps your mother in the kitchen, plays with your younger siblings and bothers your father.

☆ It cooks SO badly that it's depressing. Every romantic night ends with a burnt pan and a last-minute pizza order.

☆ squeeze your ass regardless of who you are in front of. zero embarrassment, every couple does this, right? in public or not, what changes?

☆ he says he's going to braid your hair (you always end up with knots, but you leave it because you think it's cute.

☆ 8 or 80. he will open the car door in a gentlemanly way or forget you outside and leave.

☆ the kind of guy who if you ask him to buy pads he will ask you what size your pussy is.

☆ makes jokes about having lovers, but would never trade you for anyone.

☆ double meaning jokes ALWAYS! this guy has no discernment of limits (he dies laughing at his own jokes.

☆ every event he takes you to, you end up on a couch with a glass of wine in your hand while cursing everyone there.

☆ he enjoys semi-public sex, he feels turned on by the fact that he can be caught or that he can hear you melting for him.

☆ tags you anywhere you consider hot. his fingers are marked on her waist, bites on her neck and breasts. That's why he thinks he's exceptional.

☆ "do you like this? oh you do, look at the way you're whining." damn, he's dirty.

☆ it will break your ego painfully, denying you orgasm and making you beg for it.

☆ I would ask to record. no one is made of iron, what would he do when he was horny and in another country without you? having videos made everthing easier.

☆ have rough sex and sleep spooning FR

[everythingbluelock]

IM SO SORRY I FORGOT YESTERDAYS POST

please forgive me 🙏🙏

[heartkaji]

baby blue 💭

cws : suggestive , nagi calls reader ‘mommy’, boob caressing , language

“mm, looks so good, mommy.”

nagi seishiro is dandelion locks strewn across the comforter & heavy palms gliding up his stomach. you twirl in front of him in knee high boots & a skirt so short nagi thinks it’s more micro than mini ; the swell of your ass cheeks threatening to jut out.

“you like it sei ? got it in baby blue just for you.”

truth be told, nagi seishiro thinks you look like a slut. your boobs peek out over a tight blue tube top & the lace stockings you don paint your thighs in a prayer. he thinks the netted lace would look prettier round your neck but you look up at him with jam smeared cheeks & bambi wide eyes. he’s bleary eyed & lungs tied & rosebud knuckles when he breathes,

“mhm, so pretty, angel.”

nagi seishiro never fails to plant cotton in your chest & poppies in your soul. your breathing slows as you crouch next to him on the sofa, his palms reaching out to drag against your cheeks on instinct. his thumb grazes your bottom lip, tugging on peach plush as you tease it with your tongue. your breath is warm like hot honey dripping off his fingers.

“d’you wanna see what else i got for you, sei ?”

“yes mommy,”

he says yes but his hands say otherwise—they creep down your lips & squeeze at your neck, glide off your collarbones & rest at your heart. his touch leaves burn marks on your soul. you hope your blood drenched cheeks are all but noticeable.

his palms glide over your soft breasts. it’s a light touch—a sweet tease. you watch him, doe eyed & mystified & mouth agape as he gently dips a finger between the plush mounds. you swallow before gripping his wrist just as he’s about to tug out your bra.

“not now, sei. don’t you wanna see my new lingerie first ?”

bleary eyes grow star-achingly bright. his voice is warm & heavy like french syrup when he breathes,

“fuck yeah, pretty. hope they’re baby blue f’me too.”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[kuronarnze]

a/n: i srsly love Charles sm! So sad that when NEL arc ends we can't see Charles (kaiser, ness, and others) much anymore sjoajeke :(.So heres another oneshot heh! Enjoy!

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Je Te Trouve Mignon

"y/n, repeat after me—‘Bonjour.’”

Charles leaned in slightly, his golden eyes filled with amusement as he watched y/n struggle to mimic his accent. She sat beside him, a notebook on her lap, her (e/c) eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Bon...jour?" she said hesitantly.

Charles grinned. "Très bien! You’re learning fast."

y/n huffed, puffing her cheeks slightly. "You're just saying that."

He chuckled. "Non, non. I'm serious. You’re doing great, ma belle élève."

She tilted her head. "What does that mean?"

"It means ‘my beautiful student.’"

y/n blinked, processing his words before looking away, pretending to jot something down in her notebook. Charles smirked at her reaction but continued his lesson.

They had been sitting in a quiet corner of the school library, Charles offering to teach y/n some basic French phrases. At first, she was reluctant, but he was persistent—too persistent. And now, here they were, going over simple greetings and common phrases.

"Alright," Charles said, tapping his pen against the desk. "Let's try something fun. Repeat after me—‘Tu es mignon.’"

y/n frowned. "What does it mean?"

He gave her an innocent smile. "You'll find out after you say it."

She sighed. "Tu es mignon"

Charles suddenly placed a hand over his heart, dramatically leaning back as if she had just shot an arrow through his chest. "y/n, mon cœur! You think I'm cute?"

Y/n stiffened. "What—?! Wait—! That’s what it means?!"

He laughed, his shoulders shaking. "Oui! You just called me cute!"

Her face turned red in an instant. "Charles!" she smacked his arm lightly, hiding her flustered expression behind her notebook.

"But you said it so naturally," he teased, leaning closer. "Maybe you really do think I'm cute, hm?"

"Shut up," she muttered, looking away.

Charles chuckled, utterly entertained by her reaction. He rested his chin on his hand, watching her with a smirk. "You know,y/n, if you want to keep learning French, I'm always happy to teach you. Especially if it means hearing more sweet words from you."

Y/n groaned. "This was a mistake."

But despite her embarrassment, Charles knew she would come back for another lesson. After all, she was too stubborn to quit now. And who knows? Maybe next time, he’d get her to say something even sweeter.

End.

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soooooo i used google translate hehe.. I ACTUALLY DONT KNOW ANY FRENCH WORDS. But im wanting to learn french hehe, anyways i hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for reading! Have a nice day or night! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[asaedw]

PINKLOCK Chapter 00/Prologue: You Belong Amongst The Best

Please read the author’s note and the characters' information at the end. (wc: 3153)

2025.

It was never a matter of fate. The position of this ball now, where it will land in the next second, and who will be the first to capture it. All of this must be a random selection of the universe. Or so I would have thought before PINKLOCK. Luck is one of the trillion factors that decide who gets to sit atop our corpses. Who gets to hold the treasure.

The ball flies across the field. I position myself, ready to be Queen. Maybe in one of the infinite universes that I exist in, there is a place where I can be chosen.

To the very right of my foot is a familiar warmth. I don’t get to process it or adjust to the nostalgic scent. The ball obeys her every command and falls to her foot like it's submitting. She read all of it. Every little trajectory, every twirl of the ball, and position of the players that I managed to analyze in these ninety minutes, she knew all of it before me. Her eyes darken as we meet once more, years later.

“Didn’t I tell you? You’re worth nothing here.” I want to deny, to reject like I've always done. Now she runs toward the goal after stealing my crown for the hundredth time while I'm frozen in shock. I became too arrogant. I thought I had evolved. Grown. But she always manages to prove me wrong.

And now, it’s my turn to do that.

November 18, 2018.

I wanted to go home while I was already in it. I reminisced about the times when I had a companion. My other half, who one day changed. It was an exhausting day for me. Waking up early to practice because I didn’t want my parents to know. It’s not like they didn’t know that I was playing soccer. They simply didn’t like it when I did. I hadn’t realized this when I was still younger, but now I do. I was meant to be a vessel for their dreams. So I left for the nearby field in the town.

They’re validation was my first reason to play, but soon, it was gone. The spark of excitement I used to feel when I’d score a goal. It had vanished. As soon as my brother was born.

“We have hope.” They’d cry out in bliss at the sight of him. I was eleven, and I was abandoned. I felt worthless.

I continued to play, however. It felt like the only reason I wasn’t a nobody yet was because I had some skill in the game. I would avoid letting them know, still. They didn’t like it when I had even a glimmer of faith in myself.

“You should focus on studying, he’ll be our champion.”

I had to prove myself to them.

The big game was the next day. Since we had moved to Japan when I was ten, I’d been playing here alone ever since. I had Kieymi at one point. She would reassure me, support me. I got too attached, perhaps. One random day, she changed. She grew hateful and even vengeful of me. I never shed a tear at the people who’d bully me. Not even many for the harsh words I’d hear at home. But a part of me died the day she became his way. We were soulmates. Now she’s a faint memory.

Now I stood there in the empty field from dusk till dawn, hearing an echoing cheer and wishing it were real. I would be playing against her the next day, and just the thought of it sent my heart dropping to my stomach. Kick after kick, I would score goals from different ranges and different angles. I practiced unique trajectories, imagining her begging face looking up at me from below. I wanted to crush her. Destroy her. Like she’d done to me.

Maybe that’s what got me to continue playing. The reminder that she’s better than me at something I began four years before her.

As I was panting from exhaustion and envy, I noticed a dark figure somewhere in the corner of the field. It was a woman’s body. She observed me closely. It wasn’t light enough to read her expression. But she looked almost malicious. I approached, and now I realize it could have been stupid of me to do so. She was harmless, however. She handed me a letter quietly and watched me take it. The now rising sun shed light on her glistening eyes.

“My name is Teieri Anri. My dream is to—“I wasn’t willing to hear a speech, so I turned around and hurried home to open the letter. I had a feeling I should keep it a secret, whatever it was. I felt that this ‘Anri Teieri’ was a genuine person, and she radiated the trust and faith I sometimes wished my parents did in me.

Things didn’t go as planned. They never do. My brother was four years old. He didn’t know any better, but I still almost resent him for that day. I was busy helping my mother with chores. Aman could walk at the time, like many four-year-olds. He saw the letter I had foolishly placed in his reach, which he brought out of my room, my comfort, and into what almost always feels like a battlefield.

“Asa, do you want to explain yourself?” My father stood, his arms to his side. He questioned why I had accepted such a letter. They never forced me to stop, but they disliked the idea of me playing professionally. Accepting a letter that was inviting me to play with real players was a sin in their eyes. My mother soon joined and began her rant. Both of their shouts were in a duet as they spat mild threats at me.  My ears rang from the noise.

“Shut up!” I yelled, and then I regretted it. Silence filled the room for a brief moment. Each second felt like an escalation towards an impending doom. I trembled, wondering about the consequences of my outburst. Then, with a sharp pull, the letter ripped apart in my father's hand. I swore I felt my heart rip in sync. The two pieces fell onto the floor.

“You will never play Soccer again. It was never for you.” With that, he turned to leave, my mother clicked her tongue. I remember falling to my knees, picking the two pieces up with trembling hands. She left the dining room, where the scene took place. I wondered why the neighbors weren’t outside our house after the noise and looked at the large window. Kieymi stood there, watching closely. I couldn't read her expression. The vulnerability lay in me because I was naked. She saw through me. She fled soon after a brief eye contact.

In that moment, I knew she’d gotten the letter too.

I clenched my fists, gagging at the thought. She left an imprint of her gorgeous fucking almonds for eyes, her expression so stoic it angered me to my core. I locked myself in my room. Planning to isolate myself permanently. This big stage was for Kieymi. Not a loser like me, I thought. I fell to the floor, my head bent like I was praying to some God for the same blessings he’d showered on her. After a good thirty seconds of choking myself till my face went blue, I ran around my room searching for tape. The letter looked fucked taped together. But I’d made up my mind. Obsession always beats talent.

I was going to go to this ‘Pinklock’ and nobody was going to stop me.

Was it an escape? Was it a dream? I don’t know. When I get there, I want to see her again. And I want to shatter every piece of hope or desire that she’s ever had in the palm of my hand. Maybe… it was revenge.

The next morning came quickly. I didn’t get much sleep, like usual. I had packed all of my essentials, including the now pathetic but signed letter the night before. The night that changed everything. I carried my stuffed schoolbag to the window, from where I climbed out. It wasn’t too high to jump, but my legs still needed a little work. My father probably thought it was another day of school. But little did they know, I was gone for good. I did steal a little cash and some food from the fridge.

I ditched the ‘big game’. My priority was now elsewhere. And I knew that Kiyemi was also not about to appear in today’s match either. There was a given time on the letter, which said that if you failed to show up within, you wouldn’t be accepted. Something about ‘lock off.’ It piqued my interest, and I knew I had to explore it. Today, I feel it was the best decision I could have made at the time. It was a catalyst for my career.

My heart raced as I got into the taxi.  I felt that I was doing something so wrong. So shameful. But I hushed the angry voices with music. Soon, I was outside a tall building. It was closed, as expected. The time on the letter says 1:00 p.m., and I was there at three in the morning. I waited outside, trying to get some rest on the bench. I fell asleep soon, in fear that I’d wake up dead. There was no turning back now.

“Asa! Asa-chan!” An annoying voice woke me up. The blinding sun was needles in my eyes despite the clouds following up behind. I rubbed my eyes. A light brown-haired girl stood before me, holding my belongings.

“Who the hell are you?” I rose from the hard bench.

“I watched you play in the sports day this year. Also, be a little more polite, would ya’?” Her voice was bratty yet sweet, matching the honey of her hair.

I finally grabbed the bag from her hand.

“It’s about to close, let's hurry.” She dragged me into the building with an arm. “I knew you wouldn’t show up to today's game.”

“I doubt we know each other.” My response was bland. I wasn’t aiming to make new friends.

“Yonago Kita High, right?” I wondered why this person was so excited to see me. “Ah- my name is Hoshino Tori.”

The gigantic doors behind us shut automatically, and I noticed many of us flinch. I looked around. It was an auditorium full of female players. I noticed a brown girl dressed in forest hues, and a young idol with cotton candy for hair. Then I even noticed two dark skinned women standing side by side. Some stares were intense, some were playful. I was dizzy from the earlier sun and now, the mixture of a hundred fragrances in the room.

Then… I saw Kiyemi. I wanted to hide. After what she’d seen last night, I can only expect that she’ll have a lot to tease me for. Her pin-straight, ash-brown hime cut gracefully blew by her sides as she approached me.

“What do you want?” I began. She ran a finger through my bangs, correcting my messy hair. My eye twitched. How could you be so composed? So… okay with yourself and so confident before me despite all you’ve done to me?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes skimming my features. Her voice was bland, like her expression. She looked as if trying to decode what had changed in me.

“I’m a fucking soccer player, what do you think I’m doing here?”

“Is that so?” Her voice was cold. Nothing like the warmth that once uplifted me. I didn’t grace her with a response.

Tori watched the scene unfold, stepping in. She was blissfully unaware of our past connections. “You wanna be an asshole? Go do it somewhere else, bitch.” She spat out at Kiyemi. She chuckled in response and fled, leaving a pat on my shoulder. I was a bit shocked at the pretty lady spitting such venomous words. But I was okay with it. I traced the place on my shoulder where Kiyemi had just done a moment ago, but then quickly stopped myself.

Then, the lights went out. A lanky man with a jet black bowl cut became prominent on the stage, the blinding spotlight fixated on him. We looked at him curiously. A bunch of gossips were heard before he began to speak.

“And test, test, test. Congratulations and welcome, diamonds in the rough. You are the 300 18 and under strikers who have been chosen due to my arbitrary and biased decision making. And I am Jinpachi Ego, the man who was hired to ensure Japan’s future victory at the World Cup.”

We looked at him like he was insane... Which was our first impression of him, anyway. Hired? By whom and where did the World Cup come from? He continued to speak.

“It’s simple, really. In order to outstrip the rest of the world, Japanese soccer requires just one thing. And that is the birth of a revolutionary striker. I’ll be performing an experiment to turn one of you 300 into the single best striker in the world.” The girls looked around, as if the man on the stage had just grown another head. Did he just say… experiment? We were all equally confused and even a little unsettled by the psychopathic man in front of us.

“Um… sir?” the brown girl in the crowd raised a shy hand, “By ‘experiment’, you mean real training, right? How is your training better than other training camps and team practices? And… who’s paying you?” Good questions, I thought. The man before us now was a freak, after all.

He scratched his bowl cut, “Paying me? Is that all you heard? The JFU will be paying me once a Japanese team wins the World Cup.” He shakes a hand, that money didn’t matter to him, “, and as for what makes my training more reliable than the coaches you’ve been playing with for so long... Let's just say, uh, everything. You will all play a survival style of soccer. Here, it's not just some game, but a battlefield. Your coaches focus only on the physical aspects of the game, whereas your psychology and play style are what truly create your games. I will put you through psychological warfare and break you down mentally. This will restructure you for better playing. Here at Pinklock, you will train in a hyper-modern facility with high-tech and robotic analysis, which you can find nowhere else in this country. Lastly and most importantly, your next games will not depend on your teammates or the power of friendship. But on your EGO. “

We were all suspicious of the man. And yet, we were all intrigued. He continued to speak for three to four minutes about some ‘EGO’ that we lacked. I remember him expressing some pity for the country with statements like, “Is the future of Japan really in your hands?” he looked down at us like we were trash.

“What exactly do you mean by EGO?” a girl with striped hair, who was twirling it around her finger, raised a question, “and how is it a reliable method of securing the World Cup?”

“Hm?” the man was puzzled, he scratched his bowl cut for the hundredth time. “Tell me, why is Japanese soccer still not worthy of a win? No, let me ask you this: What is soccer? Is it about the eleven players working together? The bonds you form? Self-sacrifice? Fighting for your teammates? That kind of thinking is why this country's game has remained weak. I’ll tell you the right answer: soccer is about one thing.” He paused for a brief second, which left us all anticipating his next words: “Scoring more goals than your opponent does.” He shouts out in a frantic scream, which causes us to flinch, his body bending in all sorts of weird ways. We all gasped at the sight of the freak show he was putting on.

I couldn’t help but wonder where this man picked up his ideologies from. And just why did they make so much sense? If all teammates are trying to better each other instead of focusing on creating their own goals, they’ll have minimal and luck-based goals depending on the positioning of players. But if all eleven were self-absorbed ‘egoists’ like this guy wants us to be, we’d create many and potentially legendary goals.

The man then quoted Cristiano Ronaldo, Eric Cantona, and Pele. About their selfishness. I didn’t want to believe him. He was right, but I didn’t want to. It was the opposite of everything I’d ever been taught. It was undeniable. Soccer, at its very core, was about being the one who scores the most goals. Even your teammates are competition.

“You can’t possibly become the best striker unless you’re the biggest egoist. Which is why you’re all here. So I can create a player who has what it takes. Someone to climb on top of 299 corpses. A solitary hero...” he continued. Everyone looked at each other. Some were left with their mouth agape, some frowning.

I felt a sense of disturbing belonging.

Maybe that one thing that put Kiyemi in front of me was this ‘ego’, I thought. Even if she didn’t know or put a label on it yet. Just maybe, if I could achieve something supernatural like she did on that day, I’d be able to demolish her. Surpass her. And that’s why—my foot, without my permission, stepped closer to the stage. The curtains behind him now were raised, and beyond a blinding white, I could not see. It was an unspoken invitation by the madman before us, asking to join him in his fantasies. he smiled like a maniac while he spurted what sounded like idiocy continuously. No one dared to step forward. Yet, I gravitated toward him.

“So what you're saying is...” A familiar voice claws at my nerves. “…Is that only one of us survives at the end?”

I turned to face her once more. Her almonds were now full of anticipation and the same anxiety that was coursing through my veins. I wanted to say nothing and everything to her at the same time. But I only said one, plain warning. I spoke, one last time, yet I knew a hundred more conversations were to come. I ran toward the man, like he was a savior. He did notice me, closest to the gates of what looked like heaven. What could be hell. His eyes widened as he watched me pace towards him, and all I hoped was that what she heard me say last was enough. Enough for her.  

“There can't be two bests now, can there... Kiyemi?”

Authors note and characters:-

Pinklock is situated in Japan hence, all characters speak in Japanese but writen in English unless stated otherwise. The first selection will be written in past tense as it falls all the way back to November 18, 2018. It is intended that Bluelock and Pinklock occur in the same universe because after the third selection, Pinklock characters will play against the boys team. The winning team will then play against Japan’s U20. Some characters will be eliminated and some will appear later. You must trust the process. One chapter will be written per month because I am also undergoing finals as I write this. All writing done here is solely by me alone. OCs and their backstory is written by tagged people mostly. Please do not translate, plagiarize or share my work without my permission. All chapters are more that 2k and less that 5k words. You may draw a scene or character but only after permission js granted which you may do in message or ask. Background characters are untagged as they will not have much of a role. I request that all people’s who sent a character tagged below send me their discord username (preferrably in tthe cmnts) so that we may have an open discussion for suggestions and feedback. If you want to add Characters submitted by readers so forth are tagged at the end. I would greatly appreciate if the OCs tagged in this series could reblog my post because that support would motivate me to write further!

🚬 I'm sorry it took a minute, girls, and also I couldn't fit all characters into chapter zero, but don't you guys worry because they will be mentioned when it is your characters' team's turn to play against Asa's. I will try my best to write them all justly and let all of them shine. Also, someone also asked about elimination. if I plan to eliminate a character, I will discuss it with you and justify. I won't do it out of the blue, I love your ocs lol. please enjoy my babes and tell me who's your fav so far.

Find the characters and their rightful owners in my PINKLOCK CHARACTERS post.

@kiyy0mei , @innvmorati , @minlahzz , @feliwnni , @alexiaray , @kacchans-waifu , @jwmiooa , @pinkymangacaps , @cafem3wcuryy , @prettyluvvs-ichi , @plutoplue , @serial-gooner-lain , @hygienic-law , @dollyrins , @onlykaiiisagiz , @t3chn0chan ,

[starrimoons]

i need him more than just physically.

i need him emotionally, spiritually, financially, artistically, religiously, universally—

[ii-shiro]

Yoichi Isagi - Type of Boyfriend!

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Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who isn't as accustomed to physical contact with loving intent as it is to verbal expressions of love.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who gets nervous when you tell him how much you love him.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who asks if he can kiss or hug you.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who gives you stuffed animals very often.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who cares a lot about you.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who is very sentimental, but has a hard time opening up about his feelings.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who invites you out with his friends.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who, when you meet his parents, begs them not to make him look bad in front of you. He doesn't want their words to influence the way you see him!

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who dedicates every one of his goals to you.

Boyfriend! Yoichi Isagi is the kind of boyfriend who asks you how you feel with him every month you spend together. He really wants you to be comfortable with him, with his way of being, of loving, and of caring for you.

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HIIIII, I'M BAAAAACKKK YAYY

yk, wrt by me! @ii-shiro !

[uns4lted]

ꜱᴏ ʜɪɢʜ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴘᴛ. 3 ᴡ/ ꜱᴀᴇ ɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ, ʀᴇᴏ ᴍɪᴋᴀɢᴇ, ʀɪɴ ɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ

characters: blue lock pairings: sae x gn! reader, reo x gn! reader, rin x gn! reader genre: fluff a/n: this was long overdue cause i'm so busy with my preboards review these days </3 let me make it up to you guys :')) drabbles series: So High School pt. 1, So High School pt. 2

── .✦ sae itoshi

It’s always the little things with Sae. It’s the way he walks you home after school or practice, even when he doesn’t say much. It’s the way he glances over his shoulder during a game, searching for your face in the crowd. It’s the way his hand brushes yours when no one’s looking, a quiet acknowledgment that, despite his cold exterior, you mean something to him.

Dating Sae feels like a secret shared between just the two of you. He’s not the type to broadcast his feelings, but in those rare moments, you see past the calm, distant look he always wears. You catch glimpses of the softer side of him like how he casually brings you a water bottle after his games, or the way he waits for you by the school gate without saying a word, just standing there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It’s Saturday night, and instead of hanging out with his teammates, Sae’s sprawled on the couch next to you, watching a movie. American Pie plays on the screen, but neither of you are really paying attention. The warmth between you two is enough.

“You know,” you say softly, “I didn’t think you were the type to watch cheesy movies like this.”

Sae glances over at you, his face still calm, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not.”

“Then why are you here?” you tease, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

He shrugs, eyes returning to the screen. “Because you are.”

And that’s all it takes to make your heart flutter. With Sae, it’s always like this: simple, straightforward, but the meaning behind his words is enough to keep you smiling for the rest of the night.

It’s never about big, flashy public display of affection or saying everything out loud. It’s the quiet moments, the way he leans in just slightly when you sit next to him, or how his hand finds yours when you’re alone together, as if he can’t help but reach out to you.

It’s the little things that make it real.

── .✦ reo mikage

You sit at your desk, staring at your math assignment for what feels like forever. The numbers and equations blur together, and no matter how many times you reread the problems, they just don’t make sense. Frustration starts to bubble up inside you, and you’re close to giving up when Reo drops into the seat next to you, his presence instantly making the air feel a little lighter.

“Need help?” he asks, his voice light and friendly as ever.

You glance at him, surprised he even noticed your struggle. “Derivative,” you mumble, feeling a little defeated. “I just… I can’t seem to get it.”

Reo smiles, not mocking but understanding. He leans in, eyes scanning the question that’s been causing you grief. “Looks like calculus,” he says thoughtfully, making it sound like it’s no big deal. “Derivatives? Chain rule?”

You nod, feeling a little more hopeful now that he’s here.

Without a word, he pulls your notebook closer, studying the problem for a few seconds. “Alright, let’s break it down. Here, you started off right, but this is where you went off track.” He points to the middle of your calculations, his finger lightly tapping the page.

You lean in to see what he’s talking about, and suddenly, you’re aware of how close he is. His arm brushes against yours, and you catch the faint scent of his cologne. Your heart races, but you try to focus on the math problem in front of you.

“So,” Reo continues, “instead of multiplying these two, you’re supposed to take the derivative of the function inside the parentheses first. Like this.” He takes your pencil, effortlessly writing out the steps in his neat handwriting. “See? Now it makes sense.”

You nod, trying to process the information, but it’s hard when all you can think about is how close he is. “Oh… right. That makes sense,” you say, even though your thoughts are split between calculus and how his voice makes everything feel a little easier.

Reo glances at you, noticing your silence. “You sure you get it?” he asks, his tone soft but a little teasing.

“Yeah,” you respond quickly, then hesitate for a second before adding, “How do you make it so simple? You're so good at everything.”

His grin widens, a subtle warmth lighting up his eyes. “I’m just good at helping you out, I guess.”

Before you can even react to the compliment, he reaches out and ruffles your hair gently, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Don’t overthink it. You’ve got this!”

Your heart skips a beat, your cheeks warming as his hand lingers for a moment before he pulls away. The motion is so casual, yet it leaves you flustered. “Thanks,” you mumble, hoping he doesn’t notice the way you’re blushing.

Reo stands up, his usual easy confidence back in place. “If you need help again, you know where to find me,” he says, flashing you that familiar, charming smile. Then, just before he turns to leave, he gives you a quick, subtle wink—so smooth you almost miss it, but not quite.

“Thanks, Reo. I really appreciate it!”

“Anytime,” he replies, and with a final ruffle of your hair, he walks away.

It’s hard not to admire him more. Not just for being great at soccer, but for being surprisingly smart too. As he leaves, the solved problem feels like a bonus compared to the quiet sweetness of the moment you just shared.

── .✦ rin itoshi

It all started when your seat was assigned next to Rin, and the group projects you were in also included him. At first, it felt strange to be so close to someone who often seemed so distant. But as time passed, those little moments in class turned into something special. Working together in groups naturally led to walking home after school, just the two of you. What began as a simple routine soon became a highlight of your day, feeling increasingly unforgettable.

You can’t deny the fact that you admired Rin, maybe because of how confident he seemed. But being paired with him in class changed everything. Those shared glances and casual conversations slowly built a connection you hadn’t expected. “Hey,” you say, beaming a little too brightly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rin looks over, maintaining his usual nonchalant expression. “Hey,” he replies.

Now, walking beside him feels like a dream. You take a breath, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness as you stroll along the familiar path. Each step feels charged with unspoken words and lingering glances, and even in silence, there's a sense of understanding between you.

Your hand brushes against his. It’s light, almost accidental, but it sends a jolt through you. Rin doesn’t pull away; instead, he subtly adjusts his hand, allowing your fingers to linger together for just a heartbeat longer. A flutter of nerves ignites in your stomach, but before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers intertwine with his. The simple gesture feels memorable, igniting a cozy feeling within you. There were no clumsy talks needed—just you and Rin, quietly savoring this newfound closeness.

As you walk, everything else around you fades away, creating a quiet space that’s just for the two of you. With every movement, it feels meaningful, like a treasured moment that brings you closer together.

a/n: fun fact: i had to open my old math book just so i could make up something in reo's part cause this man smart af and i feel like i had to be smart as well (so hard being dumb) LOOOOL. anw, still looking forward in making these drabbles for the other bllk chracters ;)) likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

[nana-mania]

“EXPECTING” she delivered a surprise to him

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ oneshot

࿐*ೃ feat : jinpachi ego

࿐*ೃ fandom : blue lock

࿐*ೃ extra : fem! reader, fluff

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ THE Blue Lock facility was just as imposing and intense as you remembered. Even with the countless visits you'd made to see Jinpachi Ego, your husband, the atmosphere inside never failed to make you feel like you were stepping into some grand, high-stakes war room. It was eerily quiet today, though. You guessed that meant the boys were out on the field, which made sense since Jinpachi was holed up in the observation room, glued to the giant screens monitoring each of their movements.

"Hey, Jin," you called out as you saunter into the room, casually leaning against the doorframe. Your voice cut through the silence, and you watched as his head snapped toward you, the ever-present dark circles under his eyes looking more prominent than usual. His focus wavered for just a moment, and you relished that little distraction.

"Shouldn't you be off doing something other than lounging around watching a bunch of sweaty teenagers kick a ball?" you teased, eyeing him up and down. As always, his fashion choices were... questionable at best. His lanky figure was dressed in his usual casual attire-black shirt, jeans, and the bolo tie that seemed to have permanently attached itself to his neck. His Crocs squeaked as he turned in his chair to face you fully, hands still poised over his tablet.

Jinpachi pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, raising an eyebrow at your entrance. "Shouldn't you be doing something more productive than pestering me in the middle of my life's work?"

You scoffed, flicking your hair over your shoulder. "Oh, please. Like I'd miss out on an opportunity to make fun of you. I mean, you're practically a caricature of a soccer coach at this point."

He narrowed his eyes, as if considering a comeback, but ultimately shrugged, his focus already returning to the monitors in front of him. "What brings you here, anyway? Don't you have things to do?"

"Oh, I do," you said. "But I figured I'd do my civic duty and check on my poor, neglected husband. Make sure you're still alive and not buried under a pile of instant noodle cups."

"Your concern is touching," he deadpanned, eyes still glued to the screen, tracking a particular player. "I haven't died of malnutrition yet, so you can stop worrying. Now, unless you have an actual reason for being here-"

You rolled your eyes, but a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips. The banter was fun, sure, but you hadn't come here just for that. This was a big moment, and the anticipation of revealing your news made your palms slightly sweaty.

"I have a reason," you admitted, stepping further into the room. You dug into your bag and pulled out a small plastic bag, nonchalantly tossing it onto his desk. Jinpachi didn't even look at it at first, too busy tapping something on his screen. Typical.

It took a few seconds before he glanced down at the bag. His hand froze mid-tap. His eyes flickered back and forth between the plastic bag and your face, obviously confused.

"What is this?" he asked flatly, eyebrows furrowing together in that adorably clueless way that you found so endearing.

You couldn't help the smirk that spread across your face as you crossed your arms, waiting for him to connect the dots. He was smart, but you knew he wouldn't get it right away.

"Well, dear genius husband of mine, I'd think it's pretty obvious."

His eyes narrowed again, this time studying the contents more closely. The realization started to dawn, and you saw his eyebrows lift just slightly. "Who's carrying the demon spawn?"

You nearly burst out laughing, but you managed to keep your composure long enough to reply. "Me, you idiot."

There was a brief moment of silence as Jinpachi just stared at you. His face, which usually bore the expression of someone who had seen too much in life, remained completely blank. Then, without missing a beat, he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Sucks to be you."

You let out a loud laugh, almost doubling over at the audacity. "Seriously? That's your reaction? 'Sucks to be you'? Unbelievable."

But he wasn't done. "Well, it's not my body that has to go through nine months of hell," he stated, almost smugly, though you could tell from the twitch in his cheek that he was just as stunned as you expected him to be. His cool exterior was probably the only thing stopping him from actually freaking out.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, leaning down to pinch his cheek-hard. "Listen here, you smug noodle-loving stick figure, you are not going to miss out on this. Every appointment, every scan, every time the doctor tells us what to expect-you're coming with me."

He winced slightly at the pinch but didn't pull away. "What if I'm busy shaping Japan's future soccer geniuses?" he quipped, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice now.

"Nope. Don't care," you responded, releasing his cheek but poking his shoulder for emphasis. "You are not skipping a single thing. We're in this together, Jinpachi."

He glanced away, scratching his neck-a tell-tale sign that he was annoyed, or more likely in this case, unsure how to process the information. "Fine," he muttered, his tone nonchalant, but you knew him well enough to catch the way his fingers curled just a little tighter around the tablet. "I'll come. Just don't expect me to, I don't know, do yoga or something ridiculous."

You snorted. "Yeah, like I'm going to let you anywhere near a yoga mat. I can barely trust you with a fork."

He gave you a dry look, but there was a faint smirk on his lips now.

You knew he was internally processing the magnitude of the news, even as he tried to play it cool. Jinpachi was never one to show too much emotion, especially not in a high-stakes environment like this. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, calculating how this would affect his meticulously structured life.

"Seriously, though," you spoke, trying to shift the mood a little, "I know this is a lot, but think about it. You'll have someone to mold into a future soccer star. It will take a while though."

He raised an eyebrow, an incredulous look crossing his face. "Mold? Is that really the word you want to use? I'd prefer 'cultivate' or 'develop.'"

You laughed again, shaking your head. "Whatever you want to call it, you know you'll be a great dad. Just look at how you handle the players here."

"Yeah, by constantly pushing them to their limits. I'm not sure that's the best parenting method."

"Oh, come on!" you shot back, amused. "It's either that or be a total softie. I'm sure we can balance it out. You can be the tough love dad while I take care of the cuddles."

He rolled his eyes but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching again. "That's a terrifying thought, honestly."

"Yeah? Well, get used to it. This is happening." You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're going to be a dad, and I can't wait for you to experience all the joys-and chaos-that come with it."

His expression softened for just a moment as he regarded you, the seriousness of the situation creeping into his usual façade of confidence. "I suppose there are worse things than being a dad," he admitted, almost begrudgingly. "I just hope this kid doesn't inherit my inability to function outside of soccer."

You chuckled, the warmth of the moment settling around you. "I think we both know they'll be a soccer prodigy with you as their dad. But maybe we can throw in some art classes or something, just to balance it out?"

He scrunched his nose in distaste. "Art? Ugh. I don't feel like producing a piece of art."

You nudged him playfully. "See, this is what I mean! You need to open your horizons. You can't just be all soccer all the time. What about cooking classes?"

"Cooking classes? Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "If I wanted to poison our child, I'd just let them eat my cooking."

"Oh, don't act like you can't cook." you challenged, smirking at him. "You're just too stubborn to learn anything outside of instant noodles."

"Instant noodles are an art form," he shot back, crossing his arms defensively. "Besides, if it's not in my contract, it's not my concern."

You rolled your eyes again, though your heart swelled with affection for him. His quirks and stubbornness were part of what made him so uniquely him. "Well, I think you'll have to make some adjustments in your schedule, Mister 'Nothing but soccer.'"

He sighed dramatically, though the corners of his mouth curled upward. "I'll think about it," he said, his voice dry as ever. But you noticed that glint in his eye, the one he always got when he was secretly pleased with something.

"Thinking about it isn't good enough," you countered, narrowing your eyes playfully as you leaned in closer. "You're going to be there for all of it. And when our kid asks you for help with their homework, you better know the answer. No slacking off with the whole 'I only care about soccer' excuse."

"No, you'll do the teaching."

You almost choked on your breath. "What a nightmare..imagine ME, teaching math? Do you want me to fail our child?"

You poked him in the ribs, enjoying the rare moment where you could tease him into a corner. "You better brush up. No instant noodles or spreadsheets will save you when that time comes."

Jinpachi sighed theatrically, pushing his glasses up again, a smirk barely visible at the corners of his lips. "I'll consider it a challenge. Though, I'm not responsible if our child grows up with a warped sense of humor."

"Oh, please," you snorted. "With me as their mom, they'll be perfectly balanced. It's you I'm worried about. You're going to corrupt them with your twisted soccer fanaticism."

He tilted his head, fixing you with a mock-serious stare. "And what, exactly, would be wrong with that?"

"Everything," you replied, matching his intensity. "Because if you think I'm going to sit through endless hours of soccer drills, you've got another thing coming. I'll make sure they're into something else, too. Maybe theater or art, just to mess with you."

The idea visibly made Jinpachi twitch. "Our child doing theater... Horrifying."

You grinned wickedly. "Exactly. And you'll love it."

Jinpachi shook his head, but the fondness in his eyes couldn't be mistaken. You could see it now, peeking through the cracks of his cool exterior. He wasn't just some cold, calculating football genius; he was also the man you fell in love with-quirky, egotistical, yes, but full of hidden warmth that he saved just for you.

A comfortable silence settled between you both for a moment. The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the monitors and the occasional scribble of his stylus on the tablet. You stood there, watching him work for a bit.

You were going to have a baby-his baby. You weren't sure what kind of father Jinpachi would be, but you knew one thing for certain: he would approach it with the same passion he had for everything else.

After a few minutes, you finally broke the silence. "So, when do you think you'll be free to come to the first appointment?" you asked, keeping your tone light but serious.

He glanced up at you, pushing his glasses up again-a nervous habit of his when he was thinking. "I'll make time," he said simply, almost nonchalantly, though you could tell he meant it. "I'm not missing it. I'll put it in my calendar. Between strategy meetings, of course."

You raised an eyebrow. "Between strategy meetings? Really? You're prioritizing strategy over me and your future child?"

"Don't twist my words," he shot back, smirking. "I'll be there. I can multitask."

"Sure, sure," you teased, though you knew he would keep his word. "And make sure to bring something that isn't noodles when we go. I'm not sharing my snacks with you."

He made a face, clearly displeased by the thought. "You're cruel."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room. "I'm just preparing you for parenthood, Jinpachi. You'll have to learn to share eventually."

He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Oh, absolutely," you replied, grinning. "I'm going to hold this over your head for the rest of your life."

Jinpachi sighed, leaning back in his chair again. "Of course you are."

You placed a hand on your stomach. It wasn't just about teasing him or watching him squirm, though that was always a fun bonus. You were building a life together, and this was just the beginning of something incredible.

"Ready for the ride, Jin?" you asked, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at him.

He glanced over at you. There was something real and sincere in his eyes, a flicker of emotion that he rarely let anyone see.

"Yeah," he said quietly, nodding. "I think I am."

You smiled, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. "Good. Because I'm not doing this alone."

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "As if I'd let you. I'll be there... every step of the way."

"Damn right you will be," you said, though your tone was softer now, more affectionate. You stepped closer, gently resting a hand on his shoulder, and he placed his own hand over yours.

Jinpachi squeezed your hand gently, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that caught you off guard. You could feel the warmth of his hand on yours, grounding you in the moment.

"You know," you murmured, stepping in closer, your voice low as you brushed a hand across his cheek. "I'm not always sassy."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. "Really? I've never seen the evidence."

"Shut up," you whispered, though you were smiling as you said it. "I'm trying to be sentimental here."

Jinpachi let out a small chuckle, but there was a tenderness in his expression that you rarely saw. He lifted his hand from your shoulder to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple gesture, yet from him, it carried so much meaning. Jinpachi was a man of few overt affections, but when he did show them, they were undeniable.

Slowly, he leaned down toward you, his movements almost cautious, as if he were afraid to break the moment. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as his face drew closer, your heart pounding in your chest. And then, with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his usual brashness, his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, tender-unlike the sharp-edged banter you usually exchanged. His lips were warm against yours, and for a moment, the world around you disappeared. His hand on your cheek was steady, grounding you, while your own hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him just a little closer.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his long fingers brushing the nape of your neck as he deepened the kiss, still slow, still deliberate. It was the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, both of you breathing a little heavier than before. His hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb still softly stroking your skin. Jinpachi's glasses had slightly fogged up from the closeness, but he didn't bother adjusting them this time.

"Sucks to be us, huh?" he murmured, his voice teasing but quieter than usual, as if he were afraid to break the delicate moment.

You smiled, still catching your breath, your fingers lightly tracing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Guess we're stuck together now."

"Not the worst fate," he replied, his smirk returning but his eyes soft.

You pulled him in for another kiss, this one quicker but just as sweet, before you leaned back, a playful grin tugging at your lips. "And just so you know, that baby's going to love theater. Deal with it."

Jinpachi groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically, but there was a fondness there that you couldn't miss. "Fine. But only if you handle it. I'll take care of soccer practice."

"Deal," you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

As you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this short scenario! likes, interaction and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[glamourscat]

GLAMOUR DIY: Step 1 – Condition(er) Your Soul | ARYU JYUBEI X READER

In which Aryu Jyubei appoints himself as your stylist, saviour and inevitable fashion soulmate and you really just wanted to do your job.

when I saw I’m obsessed w him? I literally mean it. My blog is named after Aryu. My glamorous king😭 he is so underrated

How glamorous. Thats the first thing that came to mind when Aryu saw you for the first time. Now, to be fair, glamorous wasn’t exactly a new adjective in his vocabulary, but if you knew him, you know that he doesn’t give it out so easily.

The moment he spotted you his eyes sparkled with a strange feeling. He could hear Aiku and Sendou snickering to each other in the background but that’s not what mattered. What mattered was you. You, so ever graceful individual, dressed in such a distasteful manner. Oh, his poor, innocent eyes.

What a shameful sight, a radiant being like you wrapped in a fabric catastrophe. Those colors? Clashing. That cut? An affront to symmetry. It was a sin against aesthetics, and he, Aryu Jyubei, the apostle of glamour had no choice but to act. It was his duty.

“Ah, my dear. You’re the new manager, isn’t it?” His voice smooth and elegant as always as his long legs carried him effortlessly towards you, towering over your frame, as his long fingers lifted a strand of your hair as though assessing the texture of rare silk. His face was far too close, and his pose naturally resembled a model in the midst of a photoshoot.

“Such… radiant warmth energy. Oh, how marvellous!” He said as his eyes traced every inch of your body, not stopping even at your confused expression.

“Thank you?” Your confusion held no weight to Aryu, as he continued with his train of thoughts.

“I just— don’t understand how someone as astonishing as you my dear, could dress in such… garments. Ow, my poor eyes!” He threw his head back dramatically while you stared at him unmoving.

“It’s 7am. I didn’t even have my breakfast yet because I still need to finish preparing the essentials kits for each player. My head is filled with 90% World Cup stuff and 10% of documents I still have to write. Trust me when I say, my hair or my clothes, are the least of my worries now” your voice calm, slightly tired, as you looked at him.

His eyes almost left his skull, as his expression morphs into something that resembles shock. How? Really? What in the world? But also… how intriguing. You didn’t even flinch. You didn’t awkwardly laugh like some of the others would have. Nor did you simply ignore him. You just stated your truth.

And he didn’t know whether to be pleased or absolutely horrified that someone could be so calm and collected in being so out of order. This… this was unacceptable. And yet… captivating. You had the nerve to dismiss fashion at the altar of duty and somehow made it look noble. Aryu was torn between fainting and offering to become your personal stylist. Maybe both. After all, he was the apostle of glamour, no?

There was a long pause. You had just rejected the sacred trinity: wardrobe, skincare, and morning aesthetics. Daring, bold. Maybe too much. Aryu blinked. Then finally sighed, a long tragic sound, which somehow he made it sound like a sweet melody.

“You poor, magnificent soul,” he said, shaking his head with genuine sorrow. “Your life… has been a series of poorly coordinated fabric choices.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a travel sized bottle, very expensive, of leave in conditioner?

“I cannot allow this to continue,” he declared. “Consider this the first step in your aesthetic rehabilitation. Courtesy of Aryu Jyubei. No need to thank me… yet.”

You stared at the bottle in your hand like it might explode. “You’re giving me… hair cream?”

“Correction,” he said, pointing his perfectly manicured finger at the bottle. “An ultra lightweight moisture formula with UV protection and anti frizz technology. It’s a lifestyle, not a product.”

From behind you two, Aiku’s voice cut through the confusing moment.

“Yo, Aryu, you flirting again or just trying to recruit another victim into your beauty cult?”

Aryu didn’t even look at him. “I’m saving a life, Aiku. A noble cause. Unlike you, who insists on wearing socks with sandals out in Shibuya and then argue on why girls break up with you.”

“HEY—!”

Aryu had already turned his full attention back to you, not bothering to respond to any of Aiku’s provocations.

His eyes narrowed, not unkindly. “I see greatness in you,” he whispered, dramatic as if he was a character in an Argentinian telenovela. “But you walk in shadows. You deserve to shine. To live, to breathe the essence of glamour”

“Thanks,” you muttered, already turning to escape whatever was going on. “But I really do have to go back to work—”

“Meet me at 8 p.m. sharp.” His voice cut through the air, demanding yet with an elegance that left you speechless. “My room is on the second floor, last to the right. Bring nothing. I’ll provide everything.”

You stopped. “Why?”

His smile was breathtaking. “Because, my dear manager, your glow up begins tonight.”

You blinked. What in the world did he just said? “My what now?” You asked, trying to push down that mix of panic raising in your voice.

What in the world did you get yourself into… certainly that’s not what you were expecting when you signed as a manager.

But as you were busy trying to make sense of the situation, Aryu was already walking away, the morning sun catching in his moving long hair, and you wondered for a moment… Is he even human? He has to be some sort of mythological creature. A siren maybe. How can a human being be so pretty? He turned only once, just before disappearing around the corner.

“Oh, and dear? Don’t wear beige. It’s a crime against your complexion.”

And just like that he made his exit. Leaving you speechless and holding what probably was 120 bucks worth of conditioner in your hands.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[everythingbluelock]

hey so, yall see this goober right here? yeah?

HIS NAME IS BUNNY.

im gonna cry thats actually kind of adorable i am LOVING HIM ALREADY 😋😋😋😋

[yukixnat]

Doctor: After twelve hours it finally succeeded. Congratulations Mrs. and Mr. Karas, you have a healthy son.*

the doctor gives y/n child*

*Y/n looks at the child*

Y/N: twelve hours of delivery and nine months in my womb ....

*Y/n raises the child and looks with irritation*

Y/N:AND HE LOOKS LIKE HIS STUPID FATHER?! 💢

*Karasu looks with stars in his eyes at his wife and child*

Karasu:✨👄✨

English is my second language. This Shot was inspired by fan arts on twitter

[gh0stly-mp3]

HIII I really like your work can you do this suggestion for me please ? The bllk boys reaction when they found out that Rin has s/o but not just any s/o but they're a famous footballer that every country want them to play for them and they're also the one who led France to victory in the world cup ! Thank you!!

Hi!! Thanks! Sorry for keeping you waiting! Well, I absolutely loved it! I really like the idea of badass reader, its one of my favorite tropes! Hope you like it! ♡

why choose him?! -> bllk fanfic

rin itoshi x soccer player gn!reader

synopsis: the bllk boys reactions to discovering that you, a badass player, is rin's partner

tags: kinda crack kinda cute, you're a badass, rin being rin (but in love), tried to be accured with the characters personalities but idk

warnings: none :D

masterlist.

It was supposed to be a normal, common and simple Instagram photo. You annoyed your boyfriend, Rin, until he finally let you take and post the damn picture. It was alright, the light wasn't the best, but there was a small smile on Rin's face that lit up the whole composition. You posted it. For you, everything was calm.

For Rin, everyone was chaos.

Isagi, Bachira and Reo were the first ones to talk to your boyfriend, dragging Nagi along. They were more than impressed, almost shocked that you would choose him.

"I didn't think that one of the best players in the world, would choose such a killjoy as a partner" - said Bachira. Rin almost murdered him that day, but since you would be mad at him, he chose not to go to jail (or worse, to disappoint you).

Reo and Isagi were much more polite, and showed their admiration. When leaving, Rin heard Reo say: "two very good players together, as partners... that sounds nice."

Then came Otoya who asked how did you both start dating and how long has it been. Karasu and Yukimiya complimented the picture and the relationship, but the first had a weird, curious look on his face, clearly jealous of you. Still, the three seemed quite excited to have someone so close to you right besides them.

Shidou obviously annoyed the hell out of Rin. He joked how he didn't know Rin could love another person, since he didn't know Rin could like anyone at all, but congratulated him on - "managing to seduce the all-mighty bringer of the world cup". - Charles, on the other hand, kept asking questions about the relationship, some quite invasive, some quite funny.

When discovering such a deed, Loki didn't know what exactly to feel. While it was good that Rin started dating, everyone was just... so excited. He almost felt jealous of your reputation. But if he wanted to surpass your abilities, he'd better keep working on that.

At the end of the day, pretty much everyone discovered your relationship. They either wanted to ask questions or were too surprised to say anything. Aryu did comment on how "glam" was your union, and Aiku complemented how much more "glam" it could become if a certain different player dated you instead of Rin.