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itoshiexx · 2 months

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running your fingers through their hair

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

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

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

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

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

“excuse me?”

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

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

“that’s absolutely not true.”

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

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

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

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

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

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

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

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

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

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

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

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

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

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

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

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

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

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

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

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

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

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

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

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

“liebling? you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it’s always been you, too.”

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ana-chan164 · 3 months

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• Blue lock boys with their kids ♡.

< part 1 >

{Nagi seishiro, Mikage reo, Isagi yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Itoshi sae and Itoshi rin}

Artist in twitter: _nnt0k

@vampirenightmare

I'm really, really, really sorry because I was away for so long 😭😭, and I'm sorry for implementing your request so late. I was very busy with school and didn't have time to translate anything due to the difficulty of our studies and the school stage I am in now, in addition to the pressure on us with exams.. Finally, after much trouble, I took a 17-day vacation to rest from school ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ.

(I will post the second part now)

Hope you enjoy ♡.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #mikage reo x y/n #bachira x y/n #itoshi sae x reader #isagi x y/n #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #mikage reo #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi #nagi seishiro

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saekkas · 8 months

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𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.

notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike

"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"

at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.

it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.

fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.

"dad says he likes both!"

you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.

"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"

"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"

he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.

"and then we-"

"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.

rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.

keyword: trying.

"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"

rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."

"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."

"uncle sae can wait, i can't."

sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.

they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.

you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.

"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"

"she's my wife, you little squirt."

you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.

"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"

"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.

you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"

you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"

you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.

"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"

"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.

your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."

rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.

sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.

"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."

rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.

"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"

"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."

he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.

he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.

and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.

"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"we shall."

he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin imagines #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x you #rin fluff

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mybelovedrin · 11 months

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✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, established relationship. reader talks a lot and rin listens. this is actually pointless. warnings: the writing is kinda messy, i think. note: i just really think that rin <3 ! sorry if there's typos.

"shut up."

rin probably says these two words to you more than he says 'i love you'.

yet, he really, really does not want you to shut up.

it's been twenty minutes since you came from your dinner with your friend. twenty whole minutes of you rambling. twenty whole minutes of rin lying in bed, his arms feeling empty since you're too busy turned away from him as you change into more comfortable clothes. twenty whole minutes of him having to listen to your friend's husband's family's problems while his eyes stay locked on you as you throw on one of his shirts and then start removing your make up.

and again, he really, really does not want you to shut up.

but he would really prefer holding you while you ramble, and the fact that it's been twenty minutes and he hasn't even gotten a kiss yet is kind of starting to get to him.

"so anyway, she's basically hated by everyone from his side of the family— and i told her over and over that she should talk to him about it, but she just won't listen to me. god, why am i blessed with such stubborn friends?"

at this point, he feels like he's skipped eight chapters.

and yet he still listens, humming thoughtfully as he shifts in bed a little, pulling the covers over him just a bit more as he sighs in defeat, staring up at the ceiling as he mumbles, giving his own opinion. "shouldn't pressure her into it, though."

you groan, giving him a look as you still stand in front of the mirror while doing your skincare now. "i'm not, i swear! those people suck. she shouldn't be letting them do what they want and i'm sure that her husband would do something if he knew how salty they are."

his eyes go from the ceiling to you, blinking sleepily as he stares at the way his shirt looks on you. "when are you coming to bed?"

"almost done, rinnie."

he yawns quietly, turning around so that his back is to you. if he couldn't hold you yet, he could at least listen to your voice. "then does she really plan to just endure that treatment?" his voice is muffled by the pillow as he asks, setting you off on another talking spree.

"i guess she does. i hope everything goes well for her. but personally, i would not tolerate stuff like that." you say, shrugging as you finally finish your business, before going into the bathroom to wash your hands and brush your teeth.

the few minutes of you being gone and quiet make rin feel as miserable as ever.

he waits and waits, eyelids heavy.

when the mattress finally dips next to him and he smells the familiar scent of your skin products, he swears he's never moved this fast to turn around in bed and latch onto you.

you chuckle as he buries his face into your neck, holding him close as your little giggle turns into a quiet laugh when he groans in annoyance. "you took too damn long."

his hair tickles the side of your face. it's getting longer, you realise as you play with it gently, smoothing over some soft strands on the back of his head while he sighs softly into your skin.

"i talked a lot earlier, didn't i?" you ask quietly, your lips curling into a sheepish smile.

rin stays quiet for some time, his arms around you tight and firm as he presses himself against your side, even going as far as to place his muscular leg over you, caging you in against the soft mattress of the bed. "y'know i don't mind that."

"yeah, but im sure there's a limit—"

"there's no limit when it comes to you. 'kay?" he says quietly, his voice groggy and deeper now as he gets closer to drifting off— almost as if he was ending that discussion right there, not wanting to hear you talking about yourself in such a way.

"yeah, but—"

"shut up." he cuts you off, and you stop talking, only to let out another soft laugh. "if you're gonna complain about yourself, that is. now, more sleeping and less talking. i'll listen to the remaining part of your friend's story during breakfast tomorrow."

you snort at his devotion to listening to your silly stories, a slight wave of warmth creeping up your neck. "fine."

he nods a little, before holding you tighter.

"and i didn't get a single kiss from you ever since you came, by the way."

"oh, i am so sorry. my most sincere apologies." you speak, clearly joking as you shower him with light pecks on the side of his face that's peeking out from the crook of your neck.

he grunts, not being able to hide the redness under his warm skin as he feels your soft lips. his eyes stay closed shut. "ok. good night."

"no 'i love you' or anything?"

he sighs heavily. "shut up."

"...and i love you." he adds, before letting himself relax into his sleep when you let out a satisfied sound and say it back to him sweetly, your soft voice partially responsible for putting him to sleep.

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sanzu-sanzu-sanzu · 9 months

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Hungry Hearts 6

Itoshi Sae X F!Reader

You are Itoshi Sae’s Manager. Fielder of dumb reporter questions and keeper of his schedule. Among many others.

Timeskip. Sae is 24 and is officially a representative of Japan.

slowburn + idiots in love + romance + friendship/gen

MASTERLIST

<< prev

Chapter 6: Real Talk

Sae keeps his head settled back against the couch, lifting his phone screen, once again, to his eyes. 09:59 PM, it says, and zero new messages. Not that he’s been expecting anything of the sort, in fact, he’s the one who’s left you on read for about twenty minutes now.

He hovers a thumb over your message before clicking it open for the third time since.

> i know it’s late, and you’ll probably see this in the morning, but thank you again for the tickets. my friend says thank you too, though she watches tomorrow. (9:35 PM)

A message you’ve sent in quiet mode expecting he’d be asleep by now, because you know, of course, that he’ll have an early start in the morning. Not a white lie this time.

> it was a wonderful performance. (9:37 PM)

The sudden beeping noise of the tabletop clock awakens him anew, and when it does, he finally pushes himself off the chair, his awareness re-emerging with that same, steady sense of certainty, a clarity that resonates with the dull current he feels under his skin, the tingling at the tips of his fingers.

How unamusing this helpless sensation is, how discomforting the feel of all this empty space all of a sudden—

He wants to see you.

—how pleasant.

About an hour ago, there was a different woman seated at the other end of this couch. A friend, an acquaintance who happened to be in town. A nice dinner, she’d said, for old time’s sake? And if Sae had said yes, it was out of the implicit agreement that it was not going to be anything more.

What they had, before then, were the occasional hook-ups. A couple of times; it’s not important, you wouldn’t have known because they were never in his calendar. Besides, it had been way before he’d met you. What mattered was that neither had felt the need to ask too many questions and there was no making a big deal out of who he was and what they had going on. It was convenient and it was fleeting, and the both of them got what they signed up for to get.

It had been over a year since they’d last seen each other like this. There’d been a dinner, too, much like tonight, but unlike tonight, there was no coming back to his place because he’d lied that he needed to be up early the next day or else his manager was gonna kill him. Tonight, she’d asked this time, will the manager be around to scold him if he got in any trouble? A question that was said with a twinkle in her eye he imagined saw more than she was letting on. A question he’d let hang, he had let stick in his mind even as the conversation had dulled into something more pleasant—the same stories that were safe to share, safe to explore, safe to navigate.

Even, and especially, when his mind kept telling him maybe he’d messed up somewhere because, at every turn, he’d find you—in the quiet lull of the classic Yoko Kanno blues that permeated the restaurant air; in the soft chimes of laughter from someone at the next table; in the passenger seat of the woman’s car, sleek and cramped and not made for him. There was, in every space that was occupied and every doorway he crossed, the ever-present reminder that you were somewhere else and not here.

It’s becoming pathetic.

It’s a Saturday, she’d pointed out, at one point, when the matter of the unusual volume of traffic was brought up. It’s a Saturday night and everyone’s out with there friends—or out at their friend’s—just like she and him.

Yeah, but there’s that Tokyo Ballet event, too. Right around Meguro, that’s why, Sae supplied from his kitchen as he poured them both a drink.

Oh, is there? Didn’t realize you’re into ballet now.

Not at all. But my manager is, he said before he caught himself. That’s where she’s at right now.

Her champagne was handed without meeting each other’s gazes, good enough segue towards a stretch of light conversation that no longer mentioned you.

“You good, Sae?” None of the few women he’d ever slept with had to bother with courtesy, and yet he still blinked, as if roused from a light stupor, upon the sound of his name. Too personal and too familiar; an intimacy that felt misplaced, despite the casualness of the hour, despite the lack of inhibition in bare feet folded up on the couch.

Sae looked up to her rose-lacquered smile, an all-seeing pair of eyes. Eyes that, despite how opaque, held understanding and friendship.

“Good.” He did something between a sigh and a grunt, stretching an arm over the back of the couch as his gaze landed on the clock on the side table. “Didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

She held his eyes for only a moment, fully understanding what that meant. What it entailed for the both of them. “Indeed,” she murmured, carefully placing her champagne glass on the center table, as carefully as she stretched the moment out in forming her words. “I do need to get home, too, though. Early trip tomorrow.”

But Sae didn’t mind. If this was the end of something, the both of them could take their time.

“Let me drive you.”

“There’s no need,” she smiled at the offer, getting up. “I’d like a long drive myself. And besides, I barely drank.”

It was at right by his doorstep wherein she finally turned to ask, and before she’d even opened her mouth, Sae somehow knew what it was going to be about.

“Can I take a guess who she is?”

“Guess who?”

“I hope you don’t actually play me for a fool, Itoshi Sae,” she leveled him with a coy stare. “You never had that look when we were ever together, you know that?”

Maybe it’s the bit of alcohol, maybe it’s the light prodding at the remotest idea of you, but something in him felt like protecting this part of him. “No idea what you’re trying to say.”

She barked out a laugh, folding her arms as she rested a shoulder against the doorframe, temporarily halting her exit. “You know, and I’ve told you this before, you may be a genius but you’re the dumbest in at least one of these two things: outright lying or handling your feelings.”

“Have you?”

“If not both.”

To that, Sae offered no real response; he simply closes his eyes, tilting his head away, seemingly conceding this one. Not as much as she might like, but conceding, nonetheless. “Don’t have much use for either on the field.”

One could only roll their eyes at Sae’s stubbornness. But, then again, if this were the end of something, should he be able to get away so easily? “So, may I? I think I might have a good idea on who she is.”

“I think you’ve had more than a bit of a drink. You sure you could get yourself home just fine?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll shut up. You don’t need me to tell you anyway.”

“What look?” He did, however, stop her just before the door completely closed between them.

“I don’t know.” She had to laugh at the suspicious, attentive look his expression morphs into. But then maybe that’s also part of his charm: chronically indifferent to the world and everyone else, except for the things he truly, strongly cared for—football; his brother; a girl he suddenly didn’t know what to do with because if there was one thing Sae knew what to do best, it’s to win.

“I don’t know, Itoshi, but something tells me that you already know that this isn’t a game you get to play, that she isn’t a prize you get to win.”

Maybe this was the part of Sae she chose to speak to, in the end.

“Make of that what you will. You don’t get that look in your eyes for someone so often.”

He stares back at his own gaze on the dark glass window, illuminated by the sparkle of city lights, alive and noiseless from this side of the glass. He wonders if you’d still reply back after how long.

> Great to know. (Sent)

He waits a minute, and then two, before his fingers are typing again.

> You ate yet? (Sent)

Your reply comes sooner than he might’ve expected.

> hahahaha

He blinks at his phone screen once because even though you’re not above jokes and offbeat banter in person, your written communication, however, has always been very dry. As dry and as utilitarian as his, which works just fine, but which could also very well be the reason for your near-insistence, whenever allowed, on voice and/or cam-on calls. A principle that was easy to grasp right from the start, but, he feels, is just now only being further unravelled in his mind, a truth that is being magnified as if for the first time—all from a single line of ‘hahahaha.’

How mundane, how illuminating, the way Sae can already picture you shaking your head at his constant pestering—has it gotten so constant now?—to never forget to eat, prompting him to roll his eyes.

It’s easy to forget that that’s another person at the other end of the line, he remembers overhearing your words to a sponsor rep once, that one time you had to make an emergency call while in Spain and you ended up having to do it in his Madrid living room. An issue that could’ve gotten bigger but was eventually smoothed out by you and your diplomatic in-person talking it out with the right people. That you’re a person, too.

He wishes he’s seeing you now.

> i will be eating, i promise. just trying to catch a cab at the moment.

He realizes that you must’ve been waiting for a ride for over twenty minutes already, a thought that makes him frown.

> Stranded? Where are you? (Sent)

When you reply, your words are back to sounding matter-of-fact and reassuring:

> kind of. long queue at cab booth, but it’ll pass. meguro persimmon hall, exit 2.

10:10, his phone says, but then he decides not to think it through.

> Let’s get something to eat. (Sent)

He stays standing in front of his glass window across his crossed-armed reflection, waiting for your reply. After a significant amount of time of no word from you (roughly five minutes), he realizes one important thing and flicks his phone open to send you another quick message.

If you like, of course. I know it’s late. It’s a Saturday, after all. He cannot be subjecting his manager to his whims on a Saturday night and on your day off, much less. Why did he not think this through?

But then,

i’d love to, goes your reply. it’s just cab is difficult right now. will you have time to wait for me?

Sae’s response comes easy, intuitive, almost unconscious. Except as he types his message out, he becomes very much conscious of the constraints and the limits of a medium devoid of a physical you, confines through which the words he intend to say but which no one can hear almost bleed out, like he’s saying them out loud in the moment. And taste them in his mouth. An honesty, a sense of earnestness in words that almost reach over your tiny screens.

Stay where you are. I’ll pick you up.

In his car, he catches the very simple fact that you no longer adjust his passenger’s seat because he never really has to accommodate anyone else but you, a small thing you also notice because the cute bear patterned headrest pillow that you’d once dug out from the backseat—a random purchase of his—that looks very much out of place in his car’s slick black refinement, and yet, somehow, has always stayed there, is still attached at just the right height and position as you’ve left it last time. The last time, and the many other times he’s driven you in his car.

It had been a sort of predicament, the first time, his driver being unavailable so Sae had to be the one to drive the both of you around the city, and you hesitating to get in the backseat like he’s your own personal driver…as opposed to the more personal, reserved-for-the-more-important front passenger seat. Sae had seen through your quiet dilemma though, had watched you deliberate silently for a few seconds before himself speaking up with a quick nod to the seat beside him:

Up front with me. I’ll be your driver, either way.

This time, there’s no more hesitating as you fasten your seatbelt; “You don’t get a lot of passengers in here, huh.”

He confirms with a reply, more to himself, as he reverses the car with one hand, but with him twisting his body and placing his other arm over the back of your seat to look behind, his words come out a little quiet—a little strained—but very clear near your ear.

“No—just you.”

You spend a good thirty minutes deciding on where to eat because, as it turns out, you’ve been hard-pressed on finding a place that caters to his current training diet. When Sae realizes this, you’re both standing at the receiving area of what looks to be an authentic Thai restaurant, you with your nose pressed on a hand-held board menu, forehead scrunched in focus at the rows of items of foreign cuisine.

He ignores the ogling—both blatant and not—of passersby and the handful of servers maintaining their best not to crowd at reception; the uninvited eyes are the least of his concern at the moment.

“Whole steamed fish sounds good…”

“Let’s eat where you’d like to eat,” he says as he carefully lowers the board out of your face with two fingers. “No diet; I’m on my day-off.”

“You sure?”

He shrugs. “And I’m the one who asked you out, so pick wherever you want.”

You do not question anymore the logic behind his reasoning, nor dwell too much on the sentiment behind the gesture; you only look up for a brief moment at the whole place, past the staring eyes and the extent of the interior you could manage from the outside. Place looks pleasant and airy enough, not too noisy, not too many people—just enough you know he’d be able to manage (like he’s always able to). He would like it here.

“How about here?”

Sae’s gaze follows yours, narrowing in thought, before he fully lifts the menu board out of your hand. He takes a second to scan through the items himself, eyes diligently noting the spiciness level of each dish and, not to mention, the ever-present Authentic Thai spices and seasoning! tagline. Great place, great food, but considering how this place obviously does not play around with their spices, he spares a moment to recall, very quickly, the few instances he’s ever seen you with spicy food, and the most striking instance that comes to mind was that one time after a joint training in Barcha a couple of months back, when someone had brought in a spicy dish for sharing, and there was Meguru Bachira holding his full plate that was good enough for two as far away from you as possible, a look of warning on his face and a very pointed, ‘This paella is Level 12 spicy, ma’am! So you better watch out.”

Bachira was eating what was supposed to be your share, was also the point, but which you supported no problem.

“You think you can handle their spicy level?”

Your eyes flicker a few times before lighting up with recognition, and then you’re breaking into a shy, contained smile, red freckling your cheeks, not expecting him to catch on to the fact that you have extremely low tolerance to spiciness. “You’re right. Not for me.”

Sae wills his eyes away, clearing his throat.

“Let’s go where you wanna go,” he says, stepping aside so you may lead the way.

“Actually, I know a good burger stall around—over there.”

Right around the street food stalls is a park that he’s never been to before. He’s a little surprised by the amount of people and life still up this late keeping the place awake, a little grateful when you lead him to a row of benches on the quieter side of the area. You don’t know what time it closes, you tell him, but it doesn’t matter, it’s not like you need the place open ‘till 5 AM anyway.

Seated on the bench, you finally get to ask him.

“So, how was your day?”

He flicks his diet soda open before answering, his other hand inching the large fries he didn’t ask for closer to you. He was doubting earlier whether to get them or not, but then he remembered that you’re not as averse to potato fries as he is.

“Uneventful.”

You follow with a quiet nod before he realizes you must be quickly running his schedule over in your head, schedule you always have mentally penned no matter the day. “That’s fair. Today was rest day for you.”

“Yours, as well,” he reminds you. “Suppose this should count as overtime, shouldn’t it?”

Light laughter spills through your half-opened mouth, interrupting what is supposed to be your first bite. “Well, since it’s technically outside of both our work hours, then I guess I’m not required to play manager, am I? So then, there’s no need.”

He gives his double cheeseburger a very brief inspection—“Then I’m just your regular guy—“ satisfied upon seeing that nobody forgot to put in the spicy sauce and pickles.

“How does it feel to be ordinary, Itoshi Sae?” Finally, you both get your first bites at the same time.

“Lib’rating,” he says through a stuffed mouth, pausing before he takes his next one. “You shouldn’t be letting any random guy buy you food, though.”

“Except you’re not just any random guy,” you say, smiling. “You’re a friend, of course.”

A friend. It’s a Saturday night and everyone’s out with their friends. Before he can fully process your words, though—and the burger is good—he sees you turning to him with a slightly wary look on your face.

“We could move your early morning run, too, you know. Coach wouldn’t mind, since you’re out so late tonight…”

“It’s your call. Coach wouldn’t object to you.”

“Oh, so you’re making me work.”

“No.” He quietly groans at the sight of your goofy grin. “Well, what ever’s your friendly counsel?”

You shake your head as if you’ve already told him so. “My friendly advice would always be to clear off your Sunday schedule because Sundays should be for sleeping in.”

“Alright, don’t push it. My manager’s gonna kill you and then me if I skip on my workout altogether.”

“Hey—!”

“She’s way too crazy with this Spartan training.” In spite of the empty look he schools his face into, there’s humor that softens the corners of his eyes at the sound of your fruitless protest.

Across the park and in front of you, there’s a group of children running about, being kids, doing cartwheels in the grass. There’s at least five of them kicking a football around and Sae idly wonders if any of them are, by now, as big a dreamer as he had been at that age. Wonders whether that’s a good thing or not; wonders, too, if that should be relevant. Even at this hour, the park stays bright and alive, even though the spot you’ve picked seems to be pretty divorced from much of the loudness and attention.

He catches you smiling at one or two things from the scenery across, if not because of the burger you look to be happily devouring. As if the taste is somehow attached to a memory he’s unable to gleam out of your eyes. Maybe he should ask you; maybe he shouldn’t. Does this make you happy?

“Well,” he considers for just a moment, “as your friend, I suppose I could tell you that I was out with a girl tonight. Are you proud?”

“‘Fat’s good!” You slowly nod as you place a hand over your mouth, courtesy in the middle of your chewing. “I am pwoud!”

He snorts, waits for you to finish your food, noticing the way you pat the paper bags on your left and right, searching for something.

“So, how was it? And how was she?” Your face suddenly freezes, your hands pause over your mouth. “I hope you did not ditch anyone on account of me, Sae-kun.”

“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” he says, shaking his head as he places his clean stack of paper napkins beside your lap for you. “Silly woman.”

“I did not think so,” and, for a brief, scary moment, Sae entertains the idea that maybe it’s not a question of whether he would or would not ditch anything on account of you, but it’s what could he possibly not ditch on account of you. “Thank you.”

There’s a period of comfortable silence for some time and the both of you let it stretch on for a bit, the varied, lively view in front providing enough distraction along with the food you’re both happily, quietly devouring. He does, however, feel that looming sense of question in the air, the way he’s somehow always able to tell whenever you’re deep in thought. Like the precursor to a piece of music he’ll always recognize. Always, always, in his head.

Why did he even think of telling you this, again? He suddenly doesn’t know, and he hears you sigh before you speak.

“You don’t have to tell me if you choose not to, but I am curious about this girl, though.” He cannot help but be amused at your careful wording. “So, how was it, how was she like?”

Sae squints over his burger before he takes another bite. “There’s nothing much to say. It’s over.”

“No way…that can’t be real.”

He shrugs. “Real. It simply won’t work out. We might’ve already known for a while.”

You gasp softly at this and Sae realizes that he likes it. Taking you by surprise. “Elaborate…”

“So interested, aren’t you.” He finally places his food down, crosses his legs and sits a little more comfortably with one arm over the back of the bench. “I could tell you. We’ve known each other for a while now, have gone out together a few times, too. But I enjoyed the company more than anything else; more than what it could’ve been, or even just the prospect of it, if that makes sense.” He folds his arm, bringing his knuckle to his cheek, angling just right so he could see your reaction. “You could say it was over before it even began,” which is, in a way, not false.

“Oh,” you begin to say, cradling your drink with both hands as you look on straight ahead. “That’s too bad.” But even as you don’t say anything else for a few good seconds, Sae’s staring does not waver, stays waiting for when you do look back with your question. “You think she felt the same way?”

“You think she might’ve?”

“I don’t know.” Your smile is honest, more open now. “I don’t know enough about this girl, as you see.”

He hums in thought as he closes his eyes, the wind blowing softly on his face. “She works in a magazine, big fan of football since she was a kid. We’ve met at a media event in Madrid a couple of years ago. She’s got some interesting views about football in Japan; some I agree with, some I don’t. She moves around a lot because of work, Tokyo, Madrid, Paris…you’ve probably even seen her in one of our events, I don’t know. Or maybe not.”

Sae thinks he’s memorized your expressions by now, your gestures, but nothing of the unreadable eyes you point straight ahead help him anticipate the way you adjust your seating so now you’re propping your head against your hand, too, crossing your legs, close to mirroring his posture. “But those are just things. You could say that about anyone and still don’t know them.” Your other hand absently moves to the base of your throat, fingers lithe over the band of your swan necklace that peeks out of your neckline. Facing him, but also not. “The same way…you might tell someone that I’m your manager, and you’re a football player. Or just a regular guy.”

He gives it a moment of thought. “I guess I don’t remember. Not sure if I even knew her at all.” To which you let out another quiet gasp.

“No, you can’t not remember…That’s a little sad.”

He mentally files your unexpected response, before closing his eyes once again. “Then, I don’t remember anything important, anything of value. We were cool, but I bored her to death, she bored me to death.” He steals a glance through a cracked eye, however, searching for your expression. “I’m not such a good talker, as you know.”

This makes you laugh. “That’s not true.” Sae was right, you do not mind eating up his fries, as well. Something about this strikes him as endearing, you sharing his food, whether you’re aware of it or not, but he gets no time to ponder it over. “We’ve had plenty of fun and worthwhile conversations as far as I’m concerned. About football, or otherwise.”

“No, I get what you mean.” And he does. And he hopes he’s saying enough to help you see that he really does understand. “I don’t forget people so easily.”

There’s another stretch of silence, of zero words filling the air between you, and in this short moment, he decides whether to let you in on one more thing. One last bit of truth, because it’s late and inside him is a strange sense of lack of inhibition. A sense of wonder as to how much he could push this little space further.

Maybe it’s the lateness of the hour. Or maybe it’s you. And is it enough? The glances he gets to steal as he sits on the other end of this tiny bench, good enough for two? The vague sentiments he gets to put out there in the world?

“I suppose, I meant to say,” he tilts his head just slightly, just enough so he’s able to make out your face out of the corner of his line of sight, “that I was more preoccupied than interested. Because I might like someone else.”

You don’t answer back right away, not fast enough, leaving just the tiniest room for an invisible thought behind your eyes. When you open your mouth to speak, it’s with a smile, but this one without meeting his gaze.

“Well. Then, that’s great—“

He can’t help but wonder what he’d see if he sees your eyes this time.

“—that you like someone. And I am happy for you.”

And that, if you ask him, right now, who this person is—the way a friend might—would he tell you the truth?

Somewhere, he hears the distant chiming of a clock tower eleven, twelve times, he does not count, nor bothers to find out. In the playing field across, one of the children tries to make a serious attempt to goal but then he sends the ball flying way past the post and fails. He rolls to the ground in despair while the other kids run to him in easy laughter. It’s all good fun.

Despite the hour, there does not seem to be any plans on any of the people leaving.

Sae takes a beat before clearing his throat. “That’s enough about me,” he begins, absently picking from the fries—his fries—you left between the two of you. “How was your day?”

You catch him frowning at the taste of french fries and you almost laugh because Sae, as far as you’re concerned, has no business eating french fries.

“Apart from tonight’s ballet, nothing much happened.” He squints at you in disbelief. “Well, things did happen, but nothing as colorful as yours.”

“Like I said: it was pretty much uneventful.”

“You should’ve watched with me.”

Sae’s smirk comes unbidden. “And watch you sparkly-eyed over dancing I wouldn’t understand while I do my best not to sleep.”

You look aghast. “Oh, but it’s different when you do get to watch it. There’s a lot more similarities between ballet and football than you might think, you know?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. And you’d be amazed by how effortless it all looks, how easy they make them all look.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“It might be hard to imagine the impressive power and strength behind their action because a ballet dancer jumps with a lot of grace. And beauty, of course.” Your gaze turns soft. “All that mental focus, the core and abdominal muscle strength, the footwork—“ you suddenly clasp your hands close, just now realizing the unwieldy gestures you start making with your hands, and you purse your lips into an awkward smile. “—You know all those things, too, of course.”

But Sae does not want you to stop, does not ever want you to curb the love you wish for him to see, as he realizes, with startling clarity, that he might and he would give anything a chance just because it has you. Just because it is you.

“Not in the same way that you do.” He shifts in his seat to face you more fully now, his undivided attention tinged with the amusement at your unusual excitement and wordy enthusiasm. “Well, so, mind sparing me some ballet wisdom that I could use out there on the field?”

And he listens, watches, as you slowly unravel this thing that you love with so much heart, his attention held captive, his eyes drawn by the delicate gestures you once again start to unthinkingly make with your hands, like you’re forming words you can hold along with the movement of your lips, the curl of the corners of your mouth, the clasping and unclasping of your fingers, in harmony with the flutter of your eyes, the softening of your gaze, the rise and fall of your voice. Romance, you’re explaining now—ballet, by the very nature of the dance, is very romantic.

And, like a stray eyelash on your cheek, he plucks out the delicate word with careful fingers—

“Romance—” holds it at the tip of his tongue. “You think that I…could benefit with a little romance—is your ballet expert’s advice on how to be No. 1 on the field.”

He catches the humor in your eyes. “Yes, I suppose you could be a little more romantic.”

“Elaborate on what this ‘romantic’ means.”

“It’s like…it’s like when you bring someone to the ocean to see the sunset, and the sunset stops being the point.”

He narrows his eyes at your analogy, but then amusement tugs at the corners of his lips. “That sounds like a random string of words, but…weirdly enough, I get what you mean.”

“Oh, I just thought…well, I know you enjoy the ocean a whole lot so I thought of explaining in terms you might appreciate more.” At his expression of wonder, you chuckle. “I’m the one who books your vacations so I know where you like to go, okay.”

He shakes his head at the triumphant expression your face melts into. “Romance, I get that. I hope as my manager you’re taking this down—“ a faux incredulity at your glee,“—but tell me: you think if I gave you a pass you could score a goal for me?”

This one, you take a serious moment to give some real thought, like you’re asked a critical question you’ve never asked yourself before. And then you’re smiling, pursing your lips.

“I doubt that,” in your brief laughter he’s able to catch that hesitant gleam in your eyes—“I don’t have that killer instinct—“ the sheepish, almost self-conscious contact of your hand to your face, a gesture he’s come to know means you’re embarrassed, and Sae no longer resists the laughter that rises out of him. He used to spend a good amount of time wondering what you could be thinking, in whatever situation the two of you are thrown into, in the rare times that he allows his thoughts to stray to where they rarely go—in the quiet of the car; in the chaos of the dugout in the middle of an important match and he catches your eye by sheer coincidence; in the silence with which you mask the unease behind your eyes in certain moments he’s yet to figure out the reason behind of. If he no longer loses as much sleep over the rationality that is you as he had had before, it is less out of disinterest but more because two years worth of constantly being in each other’s orbits have given your relationship—this Player/Manager partnership/friendship, or whatever you’d like to call it—a certain fundamental reliability; your self a level of predictability, for lack of a better term. Like how he’s learned to avoid saying or doing certain things out of a nagging itch, that is, knowing how they might make you feel. So much of you might require a little more stretching of the imagination still for him to understand, but it’s maybe that same fundamental knowing, as well, that has earned Sae this unwarranted and, admittedly, mind-boggling predisposition to keep learning. To keep learning more.

(Of you.)

Because a part of him knows, in the same vein as having learned to know you, that you’ll always be able to surpass his imagination. A realization he has no idea what to do with.

And now you’re smiling to yourself and he doesn’t even completely know why, and the pleasant stirrings of warmth he feels from his stomach to his chest and up his neck to his face tells him he’s fine with this puzzlement.

Because you’re not a prize or a ‘trophy’ to be won, and this isn’t a game he gets to play. There are games he gets to crush, outcomes he gets to control to the utmost perfection, and then there is you—

You give a little laugh when you catch his eyes.

—this is where his rationality stops, where his head empties of all the cold calculation and certainties he arms himself with against the world—

“What?”

“You aren’t such a bad talker as you say you are—see?”

—and be left with nothing more than the simple truth of who and what he wants, along with the clarity of your image:

You, sparkly-eyed, beside him in a park one night, telling him who you are.

MASTERLIST

taglist: @kunikame @ac-koryu-13 @dioscuridios @kiyohdasimp @ririgards @saeitoshithoughts @simpx123 @silly-ez @jwhwbwhwh @yoimyas @imhererighthererightnoe @luvjiro @wifeofgeto @nxxagent @xoyumiqls @oosden @shiinobu-x @francinethings23 @beabeemu @ashen-sky @arminseas @lostinbeidou @bluerskiees @sagejin @whotaooo @nanami230 @li28zi @gemoyo @ari-maccha @kiopanxp @exatse @tears-dnt-fall @saenora

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE’S PATIENCE 🥲

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yuquinzel · 11 months

Text

“what did you just call me?” rin asks, whipping his head faster than an owl turning to you.

“i asked if you wanna order pizza, or if you're in the mood for chinese?” you repeat.

“no, that's not what you said.” he raises an eyebrow.

“i did though? that's all i said.” you seem to be enjoying this, whatever you're trying to do. rin knows you're messing with him, with your amused little smile and the way you're tilting your head to the side to feign innocence tells him enough.

“i was sure i heard you call me something...” his voice trails off, gaze slowly going back to the tv screen.

you're trying not to snicker at the poor man, who was peacefully watching a soccer match until now when you called out to him.

“dunno what you're talking about... bro.” you say with a casual shrug and rin shoots you a look with eyes as wide as saucers, lips parting slightly with mild surprise and utter disbelief.

he's now fully turned to you, eyes narrowing with each word, “dont. call. me. that.”

“hmm? what do you mean?” you chuckle playfully, and rin's glare darkens ten times more.

“you know what i mean, y/n.”

you almost feel guilty, with the way he's frowning at you like a pouting child. it's cute really, because you know exactly what he's talking about.

“oh, you mean ‘bro’? you don't like that? why not?” you bring a hand to caress his cheeks.

“what if i called you ‘sis’ huh? then what? you wouldn't like it either,” he grumbles, grabbing your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“valid point,” you laugh, and it soothes rin's frown to a much softer stroke of his lips. he breathes against your hand, closing his eyes and pressing a few more kisses to the tips of your fingers.

“well then, what do you want for dinner babygirl? ”

it's hilarious— the way his eyes shot open, the slight twitch of his eyebrows and the look of pure horror on rin's face. he's puzzled, eyeing you up and down, “what the fuck?”

“c'mon, it's cute! it's full of affection and endearment,” rin's frown is returned with ten times more intensity, he's actually scowling now, “i mean look at you—” you bring you other hand to cup his cheeks, “you're so babygirl.”

“i. am. not.” he says, cheeks sweetly puffed against your palms in annoyance but there's also a faint glow of strawberries, “you're insufferable.”

“whatever you say babygirl” you kiss him.

and he kisses you back, “shut up.”

6K notes · View notes

ode2rin · 4 months

Text

all my flaws

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. post-argument fluff | suggestive themes | established relationship | new boyfriend!rin

in which: people say new relationships supposedly need a breakthrough fight to level up, but rin swears he would rather go through hell than do this again.

Your first fight as a couple freaked Rin out, even though he appeared stoic during the argument.

In the heat of the moment, Rin abruptly left your apartment, not uttering a word. Instead, he left you with a lingering glance filled with apathy—a look he'd never cast upon you before. His eyes turned void once again, when you were just getting used to it being bright and free.

What began as a simple disagreement, like any other couple's quarrel, escalated into rhetorical questions, accusing tones, and suddenly, it was him against you.

Silently, he rose from his seat, walked to the door, and vanished like a shadow that had never existed. To Rin, it felt like the right thing to do. You can't leave him if he does it first, he convinced himself. A twisted logic, fueled by emotions creeping from his past.

Yet apparently, his logic seems to be in total shambles when mixed and driven by emotions concerning you, because ten minutes later down the road, he wanted nothing more but to turn the car around.

Even so, in Rin’s true self-sabotaging fashion, he refrained. Because he’s awful, selfish, and couldn’t even fix insignificant arguments like a normal person would. Convinced of his own flaws, he believed you shouldn’t be with him— shouldn’t give him that chance after all.

The next thing he knew, the ten minutes he could’ve made to retreat back and apologize turned into 27 hours and 48 minutes of misery, spent in non-speaking terms with you.

It sucks. Everything sucks.

That night, he slept in his own bed. The next day, the in denial and emotionally constipated side of him made himself believe that the expensive yet seemingly useless mattress felt responsible for the raging tension in his shoulders and back. Of course it wasn't because of the absence of your messages or the unfamiliarity of his own bed. Of course, it’s the bed’s fault.

Life isn’t what it used to be. The sun didn't shine properly if it didn't come through the window of your room he spent the night in, his usual protein drink tasted like absolute shit because you didn’t make it for him, and not to mention the lack of cuddles before he gets up in the morning— it was bound to be the worst day of his life ever since you happened.

To make things even worse, he’s disassociating in practice, even missing a goal making everyone stop in their tracks. It was an unusual sight, Itoshi Rin doesn’t miss, after all.

He was acting so gloomy that Bachira even pointed out how there’s a storm cloud looming over his head. A statement that earned a curt ‘fuck off, bobcut’ from the striker.

Meanwhile, Isagi took a more rational approach of expressing his concern toward his friend’s atypical behavior by taking out his phone and sending you a message.

Isagi: Did something happen between you and Rin? He's being tenfold more insufferable. [1:13 pm] Isagi: Please do something about this. - Chigiri [1:15 pm]

On the receiving end of these messages, you couldn't help but admit to yourself that you felt a peculiar sense of relief, knowing Rin was grappling with the same turmoil after he left.

You'd had your share of arguments before—petty disagreements that were easier to fix due to forced proximity. It was simpler when you were obligated to walk together on the way home from school; otherwise, he would stand in the same spot outside your classroom if you decided to be petty and ignore him. Annoyed but still caring, he insisted on confirming you got home safely, reasoning that your houses were next to each other.

Rin was still hard-headed, much like all these years. A testament to this was his silence over the past 24 hours.

Reading Isagi’s text messages once more, you let out a sigh and made up your mind – you will force him to fix things with you. You will express your displeasure at his abrupt departure, insist he not repeat it if he wants to do this right with you, and convey that it should always be the two of you against any problem.

It might be a blow to your pride to give in first, but it is what the two of you needed. It is what he needed.

It just happened that you loved that man enough to provide what he needed, despite all flaws.

A day of missing you must have driven him to hallucinate, Rin concludes. You, perched on his couch, delicately peeling oranges and chuckling at a whimsical show on the screen, are just a hallucination.

“You’re home.”

And would you look at that, hallucinations even speak.

From your vantage point, Rin looks like he's seen a ghost greeting him with his unblinking teal orbs and brows slightly arching upwards. You notice the subtle tightening of his grip on the strap of his gym bag as he takes measured steps towards you, as though cautiously approaching a dream he fears might dissipate.

“Rin?” you whisper in confusion. It was meek, barely a whisper of his name, yet it was all that he needed to close the gap between you in mere seconds.

You gape at him from how determined his strides were. Surprise is instantly replaced by warmth as your lover basically throws himself over you for a well-sought embrace the moment you're within his arms’ reach.

You’re real, and you’re here.

And he can’t even begin to tell you how much tension finally left his body with that realization.

“I thought…” he trails off, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

As shallow as one might say, each passing hour of being away from you has fully convinced Rin that it might have been the end to what the two of you had.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you whisper softly in his ear, your fingers finding solace in the familiar texture of Rin’s hair, tenderly tracing paths down to his nape. Rin responds with a gentle kiss along the side of your neck, a silent affirmation of his gratitude for the comforting gesture.

Unspoken sentiments hang in the air, but neither of you feels the need to verbalize them just yet. The minutes stretch, and you both savor each other’s warmth that has been sorely missed.

As minutes gracefully slipped away, you initiated the release from his embrace, much to his chagrin. Rin openly displayed his disapproval by gently yet firmly wrapping his arms around you. But you were resolute in your purpose and slightly pushed him back.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, holding his face to look at you.

“No.”

“I’ll make you some food, then. Stay here.”

Before your intentions could take you to the kitchen, Rin pulled you back making you fall back to his lap. “don’t want you to go,” he confessed.

“But dinner–”

“No.”

“No? You don’t want to eat?”

“No,” he firmly replied, “Later. I want to hold you first.”

You didn’t respond to Rin, and just took it upon yourself to make yourself more accessible for him to hold by facing him while still seated in his lap. The shift in position sent a shiver of anticipation through both of you, and Rin, consumed by the moment, reveled in the exquisite sensation of your body pressed closely against his.

Slowly, his fingers reached the side of your jaw, tracing and guiding you closer to meet him halfway. With closed eyes, you felt his lips approaching, delicately and purposefully, until his lips were a breath away from yours. The distance between your lips diminished as Rin closed in, capturing your mouth in a sweet, lingering surrender.

Rin’s strong hands explored every inch of you it could reach. You felt his touch on your neck, shoulders, down to your thighs. The teasing fingers paid extra attention to your waist, their grip subtly teasing the hem of your shirt. You melt into him more when you feel said teasing hands slide inside.

He was everywhere— your mind, your body, your very soul. Rin had them well occupied with all of him.

A soft gasp escapes you when he nips the familiar spot on your neck just below your ear, each kiss that follows tracing a path to your collarbones. Another gasp, louder this time, as Rin gently sucked the skin beneath your collarbones, mending the sweet sting with his feather-light kisses.

It was getting harder to think when a feeling of desire ran from your chest down toward your inner thigh from how impossibly hot Rin’s lips were consuming you.

And just when you thought he had had enough of you, Rin’s hand once again cradled your jaw, guiding your gaze to meet his. Shivers danced down your spine as you absorbed the sight of his half-lidded, glossy teal eyes.

“I need you, baby,” he breathed, “please.”

It seemed as though there was a lot to make up for in the past twenty-four hours that he couldn't hold you.

You stirred from your sleep to the sensation of lingering kisses scattered from your forehead down to your jaw.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you found your lover gazing at you with those bright and free teal eyes, and you swore you never had a better way to start the day than this.

A smile graced your lips as you prepared to reciprocate the affection, intending to reach for him and plant a kiss on his jaw. However, your gesture was momentarily halted by his unexpected outburst.

“I love you.”

Professing to you used to terrify Rin – it used to knock all the air from his lungs and make the room seem so small. Now, with a few years ahead to gather enough backbone to escape the misery of pining, professing to you— loving you, felt as easy and natural as breathing.

And he hoped, with every beat of his heart against yours, that he would be breathing just fine in the many years to come.

“I love you,” he tells you again. Just for good measure, to ensure you heard him right, and just to make sure you know he does love you.

You heard him well. His words were clear enough, and the rapid beating of his heart against yours was loud enough to attest.

“Say it back, please,” he pleaded against the soft skin of your neck.

“I love you, Rin.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

He offered no verbal response, but a palpable sigh of relief emanated from him. For a man of few words, he sure does need a lot to feel better.

His warm breath lingered on your skin as a brief silence enveloped you both. Then, with a deliberate yet gentle gesture, he gathered both your arms, placing them above his shoulders, and pulled you closer by your thigh, guiding it above his own.

He loved holding you this way. He wasn’t a big believer, but he wondered if this, right here, was the closest he would ever come to heaven.

“But we have to unlearn those bad habits, Rin,” you asserted, your voice carrying a firm resolve, “No more leaving. We will sit through it, and we will talk, baby.”

Rin’s arms around your waist tightened, as if silently acknowledging your words. You knew he was listening— Rin could be hard headed and all, but he always listened. To you, and only you, that is.

Minutes passed in silent communion, the world outside fading away as you and Rin held each other. Eventually, drowsiness began to cast its gentle veil over your senses. You couldn't tell if Rin had fallen asleep because his face was buried in the curve of your neck, hiding away in your scent. Yet, the soft and steady rhythm of his breath made you think so.

As you closed your eyes, allowing the realm of dreams to envelop you, Rin’s voice, muffled and quiet, broke the silence.

“Are we going to be fine?”

Barely audible, his question carried a hint of hesitation. And perhaps, if you listen a little closer, you could almost hear the 11-year-old Rin behind his lucid words.

Lucky for him, you had known that little boy throughout your life, enough to love him just as he needed, despite all flaws.

“We will be.”

note. hi, my life ain't life-ing lately soooo here !! i hope all of you are fine and having a blast. but if you aren’t, i’m sending you all of my love. we’ll have better days ahead, trust 🤞🏻

#☁️ my ode to you #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi

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saerins · 4 months

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[ ೀ pucker up, buttercup | itoshi sae ]

ೀ content: female reader, fluff, sae and reader are adults, pet names (sae’s choice of words are stupid/idiot, calls reader ‘my girl’), alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end. | wc 1.5k | notes: okay did a very quick drabble for sae for christmas !! merry christmas to you guys <3

ೀ summary: being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.

it’s christmas eve and you’re at your company function, looking at the fruits of your hard labour.

the event hall is decked with christmas decorations; stockings lining the walls and corresponding to different names for everyone’s secret santa to gift accordingly, christmas lights surrounding every table, everyone getting their fair share of the catering you’d arranged.

“this is amazing,” your boss gushes as she excitedly throws her arms around you. she’s only a few years older than you, so it’s not all too surprising that she’s always super friendly with you.

“relax on the alcohol, okay?” you joke with her, smelling the liquor already.

she pouts at you, batting her eyelashes. “oh c’mon, are you still upset that your boyfriend couldn’t make it for christmas?”

you sigh, though you keep a strong front, smiling through it. being the private girlfriend of an international soccer superstar is tough; he has to miss holidays and special occasions and more often than not you can’t even get your calls through because he’s just that busy. you’d been excited for this year’s christmas though, because he had said he’d be able to fly back home this time.

but as it turns out, his manager—who so happens to love overworking him—has other plans. so all of that excitement just went down the drain. still, what else can you say to him other than good luck with it? you knew being his girlfriend was going to be tough, but it’s starting to take a toll after feeling like you barely exist in his world.

still, you stare at the message he last sent you.

i love you.

and you go soft. soft, because you know he means it. soft, because despite everything, you believe in the man you fell in love with. the one who gave you your first kiss back in high school, the one who’s so awkward that even initiating to hold hands last time had his entire face beet red. the one who never fails to assure you that in spite of the distance, he’s always still thinking of you.

you fiddle with your necklace, the promise ring sae gave you when you were back in high school sitting around your neck like it always has.

in between all the long distance arguments and the time differences and the i miss you, wish you were here with me, you still find yourself hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. even when your friends say they can’t imagine being in your shoes, even when numerous tabloids love to put models or athletes as your competition, you know there’s still no one else you’d rather be with than him.

“i’m fine, really,” you assure your boss, prying her off of you and then adjusting her so her arm is around your shoulder as you lead her to her stocking. “here, why don’t you busy yourself and see what your secret santa got you?”

you really just want to distract your boss so she wouldn’t accidentally end up throwing you a pity party. all you want to do today is to make it through it, spend the first hour of christmas day rounding up the party and then get home and sleep your day away. it’ll distract you from the absence of your boyfriend anyway.

as you watch your boss happily open up whatever’s in her stocking, you wonder if your secret santa got you anything. (of course, some secret santas are dicks and end up not getting their person anything.) so count yourself lucky when you open up your stocking to find both a gift and a card.

amused, you rip the card out of its envelope, your heart skipping a beat when you see that inside of it, there’s a picture of you and sae as high school kids, beside each other, his face deadpan while you’re grinning from ear to ear, resting your head against his shoulder. the message reads: i love you so much it’s stupid.

you’re still in shock but you open up the little gift box, maroon with a green bow on it. when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but chuckle.

holding it above you, under the light, you can see the words hey, stupid engraved on the side of the fake mistletoe before feeling a warm pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, cold lips catching you off guard as they press themselves against yours.

it fills you up inside, takes all the weight off your shoulders. you’ll recognise him anywhere, without having to look or hear, the way his lips feel against yours, how he holds you gently against him, laughing softly against your lips as you pull him closer to you by the collar.

never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see your boyfriend in japan, let alone at your work party of all places, and now here you both are, kissing under the mistletoe.

“woah relax there,” he teases you, pulling away but still holding you close.

he’s here, he’s actually here. his hair’s in a mess, and there are circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling. he’s smiling at you and he’s here with you and you don’t even feel the tears forming in your eyes because you’re too busy relishing in the moment.

“itoshi sae,” you call out to him, your hands patting on his body, his black coat and his scarf are real and he’s here—he’s really here. “i thought you were too busy to come back…”

how long has it been now since you’d last seen him? a year? perhaps longer? he’s been so busy nowadays that you wondered at one point if he would even come back to you at all.

sae sighs, holding your cheeks in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says tensely, shaking his head slightly. “i was away for so long, and i just…” his teal eyes stare into yours, both your eyelashes dancing against one another. “i missed you, and i just wanted to see you.”

you’re laughing in disbelief, still holding him close because you’re just that afraid that this’ll all be an illusion that might soon slip away. “and they just let you off like that? that simple?”

he presses his lips into a firm line, averting his gaze. “let’s just say that they weren’t happy about it but i’m the important one, so…” he smiles, genuinely, putting an arm around. “they don’t have a choice but to let me come home to see my girl.”

turns out, he’d called in a favour to your boss, asked her about christmas plans because he knew from your texts that you were in charge of putting it all together. and then he asked her to put the gifts in your stocking. and you laugh hearing about it, because you’re thinking of how your life could’ve gone a totally different way. you could’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else who wouldn’t do this much for you, wouldn’t make time for you, wouldn’t travel across the world and put their own things down all in the name of meeting you.

“what’re you thinking about, stupid?”

you look into his eyes, shaking your head. “nothing, it’s nothing, i just- i love you, itoshi sae.” you smile, and sae smiles too because he loves how your smile reaches your eyes. and he loves being the reason you smile so he’s going to keep being that—and he makes a promise to himself to make you happy for life. but maybe that’s a gesture for next time. right now, he just wants to spend the rest of the holidays with you.

the clock strikes twelve, and he steals the mistletoe from you, holding it up between the two of you again, wincing from how cheesy it is after he does it, earning a chuckle from you.

“merry christmas, idiot.” and he kisses you again, long and slow and completely oblivious to everyone else that’s there who are staring and clapping—half of them still in awe that the itoshi sae is here and half of them in shock after putting two and two together that he’s your special guy.

“so, you’re gonna be here till new years’?” you ask in between kisses.

sae nods, “at least, why?”

you grin, pulling him by the belt as you lead him out of the event hall. “think it’s time we get home and just spend it between the two of us, yeah?”

sae laughs, letting you drag him along, wondering whether by this time next year, will he be lucky enough to call you his wife?

but when he sees that promise ring he gifted you still nestling snug around your neck, he has no doubt. you’re each other’s for life. and you’re worth every single risk he has to take.

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #sae fluff #sae x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae imagines #sae imagines #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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icyhottodo · 11 months

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[9:51 pm] ━ ITOSHI SAE

wc: 200> | genre: fluff

“sae…”

kiss

“can you…”

kiss

“stop…”

kiss

“kissing me,” you say exasperated, gaining another kiss from your dark blush-haired boyfriend. sae has been repeatedly kissing you on the lips for the past hour, what caused this was you buying a new chapstick that tasted good, at least according to sae.

“i'm home,” sae announces, after opening the door to your shared apartment. his smile lightens up when you come rounding the corner to greet him, kissing sae on the lips.

the man widens his teal-colored eyes. there was just something different about you, was it a haircut? no, it can’t be, you never told him if you ever wanted to change your hair. new clothing? no, you were just wearing his hoodie like usual. then it hit him, you got a new chapstick and he loves the flavor of it.

sae immediately drops the bags he was holding earlier to cup your face with both of his hands, pecking your lips every five seconds or so. so you two have been sitting there on the couch in the living room the past thirty minutes, being too preoccupied to do anything because of sae.

“’m sorry, mi amor. your lips just taste too good.”

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nariism · 4 months

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another sunny day — i. rin

handcuffed together + matchmaking gone wrong

synopsis. rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. or: blue lock tries to play matchmaker with a flustered loser and their terribly unfriendly teammate.

wc. ~1.1k

— for @jenoutof10 🤞 | event masterlist ✉️

"don't be mad, but..."

rin's eye twitches.

4 words. 4 measly words is all it takes for his blood pressure to start rising. that, and the fact that isagi can't meet his bloodthirsty gaze.

in all the time that he's had the displeasure of knowing these morons, he's come to know one simple fact: nothing good ever happens when they break news starting with 'don't be mad'.

before his teammates can even get a chance to explain further, rin interjects.

"you lost it, didn't you? you fucking lost it."

bachira's lips just press into a thin line, mischief missing from his expression where it usually permanently dances. now, he just looks utterly terrified and a little guilty.

"hey, but there are worse people to be cuffed to!" bachira nervously states. and at that, all eyes land on you.

you'd been hoping that maybe rin's temperment would have drawn all attention away from you right now—that they at least wouldn't have to witness the absolute despair in your face realizing you've been cuffed to your long-term crush for an indefinite amount of time.

but their eyes are heavy on you, trying to scrutinize your reaction. you want nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

the chains connecting you jingle impossibly loud as silence fills the room. you flounder slightly, caught off guard by the collective weight of everyone's eyes, and rin seems to understand how dire your situation is. he quickly gathers everyone's attention back to himself.

"you all better crawl on your hands and knees until you find that fucking key."

to think that an entire group of people could have gone through with something so stupid—rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. handcuffing the two of you together as a last ditch attempt to solve the last puzzle of their escape room? he would probably be laughing at their idiocy if he wasn't the one locked to your side right now.

and why him, of all people? was it so obvious that he was maybe, kind of, sort of a little into you? no, impossible. he's incredibly good at hiding his feelings for you, so much that he's completely stone-faced while you're busy panicking beside him.

what should have been an innocent team-building exercise put together by their calm and collected manager has suddenly turned you into a blithering fool and him into a cranky asshole.

he'd always had suspicions that you'd liked him, never able to look him straight in the eye without fidgeting and messaging him out of the blue for seemingly insignificant reasons. ("did you try the new garigari-kun flavour?" or "i saw this cat that reminded me of you," and even "did you eat dinner yet?")

if you had told his teammates, you made a grave error. a fatal mistake. because they were all half-wits who would want nothing more than to try playing cupid, and he knows that only they could come up with a plan so stupid and still claim it to be foolproof.

frantically searching for the key, they get to work scouring the floor and drawers—anywhere they could have left it in the last twenty minutes. he takes the opportunity to focus on his breathing, as his therapist had advised him to do when he was feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

"you okay?" rin asks quietly, lathering a hand down his face in exasperation. you hum nervously, clutching yourself instinctively. it draws his hand closer to your body but he doesn't mention it, instead letting it dangle limply in front of you. the warmth emanating from you makes him realize just how frazzled you are.

he decides he should guide you to the next room where it's quieter, all the puzzles already solved and abandoned. he sits you down on the sofa, standing in front of you with your hands connected in the middle.

"what if we're locked together forever?" you murmur.

rin looks at you in confusion, perplexed by your sudden loss of functioning brain cells. you were always so rational, it's strange to see you so...

you meet his intense stare and the rest of his train of thought derails into a disastrous dumpster fire.

"i... don't think that'll happen."

"but what if we are?"

"there are worse people i could be locked to."

silence suffocates you. rin blinks at you, but doesn't back down as you fumble over your own tongue.

"you think so?" you finally manage out.

god almighty, you need to break this eye contact before he shrivels up and dies. okay, so maybe his feelings for you aren't entirely miniscule, but that doesn't mean he's going to get any enjoyment out of this.

he scoffs, gesturing to the next room. "at least it's you and not them."

you sputter in embarrassment, hand yanking toward your face as you try and cover your cheeks with your palms. his hand follows, nearly smacking you in the nose but you don't seem to care or even notice.

he slowly seats himself beside you, dragging your conjoined hands back between your bodies and settling on the couch.

"i hate this," you admit. "it feels claustrophobic."

rin knows exactly what you mean. your hand is inches away from being in his—he can hardly breathe. he would rather eat natto every day for the rest of his life than come to terms with that, though, so instead he just sneers at you funny.

"you have claustrophobia?"

"i just mean that we're so close right now."

"so?"

you gulp loudly. "and—" you sigh, breaths shaking. "well, you're sort of right. i guess it could be worse."

"...you're weird," he tells you.

your lips quirk up into a tiny smile, so small that he would have missed it if he weren't chained to your side right now. for a moment, he almost forgets all about why he's even in this situation in the first place.

"sorry," you stammer, fingers fumbling around with the hem of your sweater. "i hope they find that key soon."

he stares at you for a few more seconds, tries to trace the outline of your face with his eyes and memorize the curve of your smile.

"yeah," he lies. "me too."

("is it working?"

"i don't know, i can't hear them!"

"shh," chigiri hisses. "i'm trying to listen!"

rin puts his head into his hands at their volume, bringing your hand along with his motion. he glares in their direction, catching a glimpse of his team stacked on top of each other as they peer into the room.

"idiots..." he mutters. you look at him, puzzled. "i'm surrounded by idiots.")

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