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lalunanymph · 7 months ago

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sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, unprotected sex, hate sex, oral sex, rough sex, petnames (princess, whore, slut, daddy's girl), power play between sae and reader, degradation, exhibitionism, sae's repressed emotions™

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

✯ chapter 2

Aiku was furious when he heard the truth.

“You slept with her?” he hissed. “With an investor?”

At 7AM, it was too early to be harassed and lectured by his long time friend. Sae could barely keep his eyes open.

“Yeah,” he muttered nonchalantly, picking up his cup of coffee and blowing steam off the surface, ignoring a vein popping from Aiku’s forehead.

“You asshole.”

Sae never did admit he was a particularly nice or smart guy. “Yeah, yeah. Pile it on me.”

“You don’t get it, huh?” the other man groaned. “Sae, this isn’t some floozy girl you took back home after a night out. This is L/N Y/N. Her family could buy us out ten times over! You’re messing with the wrong woman.”

Pausing the cup halfway to his mouth, Sae scrutinised his exasperated friend with a raised brow. When he didn’t say anything else, Oliver let out a heavy breath. The despair in his friend’s mismatched eyes almost made him feel guilty. Almost.

“Tell me you at least promised to see her again.”

Sae’s silence stretched on. Oliver’s expression crumpled in disbelief.

“Fuck,” Aiku groaned, like he was in pain. “We’re dead meat.”

“I will,” Sae insisted, frowning. He set his cup down and fixed his friend with a determined look. “I can still make this right for us.”

“You better,” Oliver warned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Or else we can say goodbye to the Ult Match and spend the rest of our lives in petty rings.”

Despite how apathetic he was on the outside, Sae wasn’t an asshole on the inside. Aiku was an inch away from ripping out his hair, and he wasn’t a sadistic bastard to sit back and watch him do it. Sae would try to make it right with you for his best friend’s sake.

“Fine. I’ll go to her office tomorrow and apologise.”

A pair of green and purple eyes fixated on his neutral expression. “Sae… you can’t fuck it up for us.”

Hard not to when Aiku was constantly harping on him to do better. But, his next words snatched Sae’s snark back before it had a chance to spew out of his mouth.

“The boys… they believe in you, Itoshi.”

Sae flickered his teal eyes to catch Aiku’s gaze. For once, his friend and manager was dead serious. “They see you as a way out of this life. Everyone is rooting for you to win. Don’t let them down.”

A pedestal truly was a lonely place. Sae had never given much thought to how daunting the burden on his shoulders were until Aiku pointed it out through his less-than-poignant warning. The other boys in U20 had their eyes on him. They were waiting for his move; the blueprint to their next actions in this violent world resting upon his unwilling pen.

Sae never asked for such idolisation or those inexperienced necks craned up towards him. He only wanted to fight.

“Fine.” A million plans were running through his mind, starting with how he could get an audience with you. “I’ll try to convince her. Though, I am not going to stoop low enough to lead her on. I can’t afford to be distracted.”

Returning to his bastard ways when it came to women, Aiku smirked. “I know you won’t fall for her. Just charm her enough till the purse strings loosen. You’ll succeed. “

His friend’s faith in him restored, Sae stood up, slinging his suit jacket over his rumpled button down.

“See you later.”

“Sae?”

He craned his head back to find Aiku struggling with his next words. Eventually, the heterochromatic-eyed man pursed his lips. Sae expected another warning or a threat. Not what Oliver said next.

“Good luck.”

Foreboding. Hopeful. Oliver’s hopes and dreams were hinged on this entire meeting.

A twitch appeared in the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks. Expect good news later.”

His knee was bouncing rapidly up and down, a nervous tick he had not managed to get rid off since his childhood.

Against his expectations, you had agreed to another meeting with him, the message relayed back to his stiff figure seated in the waiting room by your bored, matronly personal assistant. He wished he could pinch himself that this was real, but that witch behind the desk would judge him. Sae settled for looking around, drinking in your beige walls and calm lights.

He wasn’t an artistic person per say, but your expert eye was obvious from the tasteful furniture you laid around this calming office, down to the stack of timeless fashion magazines on the coffee table. Sae thumbed through the thick stack when your assistant called his name, gesturing to your slightly ajar door with a roll of her eyes.

Aiku’s voice chimed in the back of his head, lending him strength. Do this for the boys.

Sae stood up, nodding his thanks. He was dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, which in hindsight, was making him sweat like a sinner in church. Sliding his clammy palms down the acid wash denim, he squared his shoulders and pushed your door open further. Your office was designed in the same scheme as the outside decor; elegant beige and wooden furnishings with gold accents. He suddenly felt too shabby standing in the middle of this space.

He hated to admit how his mouth ran dry at the sight of you. You were clad in a simple A-line dress and stockings, heeled foot gently tapping a sprightly rhythm against your desk. The morning sun bounced off your skin, giving it an admirable inner glow. Your ruby red lips were set in a neutral pout and you nodded in greeting when you caught his eye.

“Hello again.”

Sae wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he stuffed them into his pockets. “Hey. How’re you?”

You shrugged, and he tried to not eye a loose strand of hair brushing your neck. “I’m fine. Tired, but nothing too bad.”

He hummed and hawed, unsure of how to break the ice. Just last night, he had you pressed into your own sheets and screaming his name. Apparently, you were recalling the same memories he was. Your face flushed, and you were no longer an unattainable woman; right now, you reminded him of a young girl speaking to her crush in broad daylight.

“What do you want, Itoshi Sae?”

A repressed shiver fought to run down his spine. He liked it whenever you said his full name.

“Funding,” he mumbled, not sugar-coating his real intention. The young man took a deep breath, not above begging for your help. “I know we had a rocky start, but I’m doing this for my team and would like to humbly request your backing during the next match.” Balling his hands into fists, he waited for your answer. Sae was never good with words so he hoped his honesty more than made up for his standoffish personality.

Those pretty lips of yours pursed into a deeper pout.

“Ego-san spoke to me this morning.”

At the mention of Blue Lock’s infamous coach, Sae struggled to hold back a grimace. Had you already struck a deal with that asshole? He hoped you didn’t—if not he would’ve wasted his time coming over here to convince you.

“And he shared with me Rin’s stats.” Scrutinising him from head to toe, you blinked. Innocent and curious. “That’s when I realised both of your last names match—Itoshi.”

Sae’s heart sank slightly. As much as his entire family history was left out in the open for investors to pour over, something about the thought of you being privy to it made him nervous. Like he was about to fail an exam he didn’t study for.

Your pretty, deep eyes met his, and in them was a world of curiosity.

“He’s your brother, right?” When he didn’t reply, you pressed on. “And you’re standing before me, asking for money to injure and potentially kill your own younger brother.”

His mind turned fuzzy, thoughts slowing down. You slid your gaze right to his tensed and closed fists.

“Why?”

Sae’s reaction was immediate. He pivoted on his heel and marched right towards the door.

“Wait.”

A dark, deep anger was unfurling in his chest, but your command that was spoken from a higher power than his own standing made him instinctively pause. Sae’s entire body was rigid, and if anyone were to look closer, they would find his clenched palms trembling.

He heard the crisp click-clack of your heels on the floor. Felt your hands sliding down his back in an empathetic touch. It took every ounce of his self-control not to turn around and bury himself in your embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Your tone was soft, regretful. “I only wanted to understand where you were coming from. I can give you the funds, but I want you to think this through. No matter what anyone says, a brotherly bond can never be destroyed.”

It was, Sae swallowed hard. It is destroyed beyond repair. But, he didn’t have the courage to put those thoughts into words.

“I can handle it,” he chose to reply in a gruff, aloof tone. You let your hands fall to your side, at an impasse with the notoriously stubborn prodigy.

“Okay,” you finally whispered. Sae turned around, and for a split second, you were graced with the rising sun of hope burning through his beautiful teal eyes. It was a breathtaking view, better than any scenic seaside you had seen throughout your life. “I’ll give you the money.”

Without a caveat or a requirement. You sat back down behind your desk and nodded towards the door. “Ask your manager to send me an email. I’ll make the transfer latest by tomorrow.”

Sae felt like someone had just punched him right in the noggin. Did this really just happen? His ears were ringing.

You had gone back to scribbling in your notebook, your brow furrowed and attention resolutely not on him. He couldn’t help but to admire the slope of your neck or how your messy bun made you look much younger than you were.

“Why’re you still standing here?”

You sounded amused more than hostile. Sae unwittingly took one step forward.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” the words tumbled free from his loose lips before he could stop them. “If I made anything awkward or I hurt your feelings… I’m sorry.”

Your forgiveness was given to him in a flash, a grace which he didn’t deserve.

“We’re fine.”

Till his dying day, Itoshi Sae would never know what compelled him to reach for your hand or for the next words to spill from his stiff lips.

“Let me make it up to you. Have dinner with me.”

Your wide, unblinking eyes spoke volumes of your shock. “Um. O-okay.”

Gingerly letting your hand go, he bowed his head forward. “Thank you. I’ll pick you up.”

“I can drive—”

“No,” his earnestness radiated beyond his exclamation, catching himself off guard. “Let me do it. It’s the least I… I can do.”

Your answering smile was both unsure and sincere. “Okay. I’ll send you my address again.”

Sae returned your grin with a brittle one of his own. Then, he turned on his heel and left your office, feeling lighter than he dared dreamed; filled with a dangerous sort of optimism.

And in his dark and bloody world, nothing was more lethal than hope.

As much as he liked to pretend that he was unaffected after every meeting with you, Sae could not lie to himself.

The days passed in a haze. One dinner became two, and then he was seeing you for the third time in a week, driving to your apartment where you always greeted him with a smile and a kiss. Sae found he liked how your mouth felt pressed to his own. It was like a sedative he could never get tired off, leaving his lips tingling and heart strangely full.

Maybe this was how addictions began.

First, it was an innocent need to try it out for the sake of his curiosity. Then, one hit became four, and before he knew it, he was drowning in your magnetic field. You were the sweetest addiction he had ever encountered. Better than cigarettes or alcohol—he actually liked how you tasted on his tongue.

“Sae,” your airy moan touched his neck. “Mhm… more… please…”

If you were his vice, he was your addiction.

No one had ever touched you the way Itoshi Sae did. Not like you were a relic or a fragile piece of glass. His rough palms clasped your hips in a bruising grip, tightened around your neck when you begged him to let you cum; giving your cheek a small slap whenever he noticed your eyes rolling too far back into your head.

“Yeah?” he licked his kiss-bitten lips. “Wish your daddy could see his little girl now—how much she’s begging for some low class cock.”

You preened and gasped, back arching at his taboo words. “Sae… d-don’t be mean…”

He nudged his face into the crook of your neck, adding another mark onto your already decorated throat. “You love it when I’m mean,” he whispered in between sloppy sucks and kisses. “Makes you cum harder.”

Your star-filled eyes strayed down his bruised chest in wonder, your own scratches and mouth leaving the same amount of destruction as his own marks had on your skin.

He was fucking you nice and deep in your own bed, a pillow wedged under your hips and his fingers laced with yours, bringing them to the side of your head as his hips continued to languidly snap forward. You bit your lower lip, undulating your hips in tandem with his thrusts.

“True,” you laughed breathily. “But, you’ve been—mhm—denying me.”

He had, hadn’t he? Everytime you whispered you were about to cum, Sae switched the pace or the position. Going deeper, going slower. Fucking you shallowly. Slamming his entire cock into you until you could feel his head ramming your cervix. Taking his time to rebuild and orchestrate your climax.

Your hands were released, and they wound up in his hair, pulling him closer. In this position, your hips were tilted high enough for his pubic bone to grind down on your clit. It was also a perfect position to kiss him deeply while he grinded his hips sensually against yours. Doing his best to make you cum this time.

He barely noticed your smaller palm sneaking in between your two bodies until he felt your knuckles graze his hip. Glancing in between your joined sexes, Sae sucked in a sharp breath when his eyes zeroed in on your index and middle finger rubbing your clit.

“Such a little slut,” he cooed, deep voice sending shockwaves into you. “G’na make me lose my fucking mind.” The last part was whispered under his breath, but you heard him all the same.

Your giggle was both light and profound. “Yeah? Am I gonna make the big, bad Itoshi Sae fall for me?”

His cool teal eyes appraised you, leaving no room for his mock displeasure when he circled his hand around your throat, choking you lightly till you gasped and your smile disappeared.

A shark-like grin and teeth flashing like knives lit up the dark room. “Don’t get too far up your head, Princess. This is purely physical for me.”

Despite getting the upper hand, you would never let him win without a fight. “Good,” you choked out, baring your teeth. “Makes it easier for me to watch you die in the ring.”

His thrusts sped up, fueled by your hatred. A thick thumb pried your lower lip down, pulling the plush flesh aside to run the calloused tip over your teeth. You sucked on his digit without prompting, earning a hazy flash of satisfaction in his softening teal eyes.

“Feisty,” he murmured. “At least I know you won’t miss me. I won’t feel bad when I do this—”

With raw, untameable strength, he hoisted you from the bed, carrying you in his arms as your legs locked around his waist.

“Sae!” you squeaked, but he was already moving towards the huge, glass windows. Setting you down back on your feet, his cock slipped out of you with a lewd ‘pop’, stained with your juices. His tall and broad frame crowded you against the cool glass, and you whimpered when he pressed his aching dick to your hip.

“Suck me in front of the city,” his order reached your heated ears as a silky whisper. “Show the world how much you truly hate me.”

For a split second, he could see a glimmer of surrender in your eyes. Maybe you would beg him to take you back to bed. Maybe you would promise him to be a good girl.

But, whatever your determination was made out of, it was the same as his. You would never back down from a fight.

Taking him up on his challenge, you slid to your knees, ferociously beautiful eyes devouring his whole body with the intensity of his opponents in the ring. You wanted to kill him; Sae knew that.

But, instead of driving a deathly fist into his sternum, you chose to wreck him in a different way.

Uncaring that you were naked and covered in sweat right in front of a set of high windows which anyone from the opposite building could peek into, you glanced up at him, and slowly parted your mouth. Your eyes rippled close at the first taste of yourself on his cock. Sae watched, deceitfully unfazed as you licked up and down the prominent vein on his length, gathering enough spit in between your pursed lips to smear it over his weeping dick.

The look in your eyes was breathtaking.

He could physically taste your discomfort, but your ego was feeding off his own. Despite you being naked and on your knees with submission, Sae knew the truth.

It was you who controlled the entirety of this scene.

You held the strings when you raked your nails down his abs, scraping your perfect manicured tips over his balls. It was your hot mouth and tongue he was succumbing to.

His thighs were starting to tremble. Your mouth stretched into a grin, despite his length impeding your devious joy. With one simple push, you had him pressed against the windows, shuffling on your knees slightly so that you were bracing your hands on the cool glass and fucking your throat up and down his cock.

Sae’s fingers tangled in your hair, roaming down your neck and shoulders. His expression was openly vulnerable, filled with an unravelling surrender which men had whenever they were at the precipice of their pleasure.

It took one flick of your tongue for him to spurt down your throat, thick and hot.

You pried your mouth off his length quick enough for his seed to splatter down your chin and neck. Some of it dribbled onto your heaving chest. Without his prompting, you locked eyes with him, drawing your trembling hands right to your tits and massaging his cum into them.

“Do you believe me now?” you whispered, voice hoarse and scratchy, kneading your tits in a way that had him hypnotised. You leaned forward to kiss his sensitive cock head, even as you spewed venomous words to contradict the tender gesture. “Do you believe how much I hate you?”

Not as much as he hated you the very second he yanked you off your knees and drove you back to the edge of your bed. Sae’s snarl would be terrifying if he hadn’t followed it up with his mouth on your denied and desperate pussy. Peering down the line of your body, his auburn hair was dyed black by the night’s shadows, its sharp edges tickling your bare thighs.

You tossed your head back, curling your fingers in his locks.

The pent-up anger and heartbreak pushed you down the teetering edge of your most painful orgasm. Your clit pulsed against his tongue, your abdomen contracting rapidly as your body expelled a gush of slick which stained his chin and nose. Sae continued to lap through your folds even in the throes of your orgasm. He didn’t care that your legs were shaking or if you were begging for him to slow down. He wanted your surrender to be as agonising as his own.

After the world had stopped spinning, you found yourself in his arms, your face pressed into his chest. Sae was fast asleep, knocked out from the potent oxytocin cocktail.

You stubbornly tried to stay awake for longer, not willing to let the fight go even if there were no winners between your bruised and exhausted bodies.

Eventually, your eyelids must’ve slipped close on their accord, and you nodded off to sleep, curling your hand over Sae’s left pec and nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, comforted by these simple signs of his steadiness and strength.

“You look like someone mauled you twice over.”

Aiku’s annoying lilt greeted Sae the moment he arrived into their makeshift gym. Setting his bag on the ground, he narrowed his eyes, not in the least bit embarrassed by the marks on his chest and neck.

“Shut the fuck up. It’s too early to deal with you.”

The heterochromatic-eyed man laughed. “Whoa, slow your roll, you usually leave the swearing for 10AM.”

Sobering up, his friend took one good look at him. “Were you with her?”

Sae stiffened. Why should this fucker care?

“Fuck off. And tell Shidou I’m ready for our training,” he mumbled coldly, completely ignoring Oliver’s innocent question.

Knowing how stubborn his starfighter could be, the other man sighed. “I’ll get that roach in. Just—” he pursed his lips, eyeing the marks you left around his pecs and nipples. “—you know what… never mind.”

Sae slipped on his gloves, ready to start the day. His schedule was easy to track: wake up, stretch, meditate, work out, lunch, workout, snacks, workout, tussle with Aiku or Shidou, and then hit the hay. Every wedge of the clock was decided for him to be as productive as he could.

But, he never factored in you.

Instead of a clear mind and fresh air, he started the day with your arms curled around him and the sight of your sleepy eyes cracking open. Where are you going? Your hoarse voice reached him from where you were swaddled in your blankets.

“Out,” he muttered curtly, unable to turn around and face you. Knowing he would see your crestfallen expression.

When Aiku told him to charm their biggest investor, he never expected to be wrapped up in her body almost every single night. Sae didn’t hate it per say—but it was encroaching a dangerous territory. He was starting to grow comfortable beginning his day with you.

The sandbag bore the brunt of his displeasure. He worked his muscles down to the ligaments, stopping for five minute water breaks and nothing else. The gym Aiku had rented for U20 was slowly emptying out, other fighters leaving for home or lunch. Even Oliver had packed up and left with a cheery wave, tossing the keys onto the counter and telling him to close up.

Sae grunted in acknowledgement, returning back to his heavy hits and feigns. He was half an hour into his workout when he realised he wasn’t alone.

Through the blurry exhaustion, he faintly made out your smile.

“Hey, champ,” you murmured, looking absolutely gorgeous in your tank top and linen shorts. So very different from the business-class woman he was used to.

Sae blinked, standing up straighter. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

Shooting him a smile, you shrugged. “I was driving by the area and decided to survey the U20 gyms… you know, to make sure my investment is sound.” You approached him, and Sae felt something in his chest bump up a notch. Without hesitation, you yanked yourself up the firm ring skirt and into the ring itself.

You surveyed the space with interest. Before Sae could open his mouth and gruffly tell you to leave, you rooted him to the spot with a sweet smile.

“Can you teach me some moves?”

This time, Sae was too stumped to refuse you. He nodded, unsure of what power you held over him to make him agree to something stupidly dangerous for his heart. He walked over to you, engulfing you in his heat when he adjusted your stance.

“Part your feet wider.” When you hesitantly did as he ordered, Sae clicked his tongue, and nudged your ankles apart further with the tip of his foot. “Get into a steady base. Keep a neutral spine.”

He taught you how to throw a hit, and almost smiled when you got it right the first time. Fighting comes naturally to you, he wanted to compliment, but the words were stuck in his throat.

Flushed and eager, you flashed him a smile that had his stomach flipping on itself. “How do you train everyday and not want to eat all the time? I’m starving!”

Sae pretended to look over his shoulder at a blinking exit light so he could hide his half-smile. Your innocence was infectious.

He turned back to you with his signature serious look, and said, “Let’s go for lunch, then.” You perked up.

“Okay,” with a small chirp, you walked to the edge, but Sae beat you to it. He got down the ring, parting the rope and offering you his hand.

“Some asshole broke his neck when he tripped,” he began to explain, in case you got the wrong idea, judging from your wide-eyed stare. “Don’t want you to end up dead on my watch.”

You fought back a smile, taking his hand. Sae surprised you by grabbing your waist, nudging an arm underneath your thighs to literally sweep you off your feet in a bridal style carry, until you were gently set back down onto the floor.

“Just how strong are you?” you managed to exhale when you got your breath and wits back. The imprint of his touch burned your skin and you swore you felt like your face was about to explode with heat.

In answer, he flashed you a grin. The first time he had ever fully smiled at someone.

“Really strong,” he bit on his tongue before he could add ‘princess’. He shouldn’t be calling you a pet name outside of the bedroom; not because it was wrong but because he would slip up and confuse you—confuse himself.

Killing the voices in his head, he gestured for you to follow him to his car, enticing you with an offer you couldn’t refuse.

“Ramen? My treat.”

Boy meets girl, boy falls in love.

At least, it was close to love as Sae could fathom.

Without even realising it, his days and nights with you grew longer. The meticulous hours he portioned during his day growing out of whack the longer he spent time with you. Sae used to think he was above petty distractions; that he had a will of steel.

Little did he know how much it started to creak and crumble whenever you reached out to touch him.

Yesterday morning, you had found him in your living room, perusing through your stack of paperbacks. When you called out his name, the auburn-haired fighter nearly threw your copy of Before The Coffee Gets Cold under your couch.

“You’re not very discreet,” you mumbled, coming over to him and pinching his blushing cheek. Sae huffed and withdrew the book from behind his back, scowling at the cover.

“Why do you have this book?”

His tone sounded almost accusatory, but, weeks of knowing him made you understand it was his embarrassment hidden behind his gruffness.

“Because I love it,” you mumbled, and somehow, found yourself sitting on his lap, flipping through the pages and reading out your favourite parts.

This little sliver of knowledge about your literary tastes gave Sae a burst of courage to invite you back to his own apartment. At first, he was worried it would be too threadbare for you, but you never commented on the lack of furniture or personality.

“As long as you have a bed and hot water, you’re better than so many others,” you told him bluntly. Sae quietly agreed, his childhood on the streets flashing into his mind.

The pile of romance novels he had saved from the old bookstore down the street was the subject of your intense scrutiny. He thought you could’ve dug up his past through those yellowing pages; unearthed his every insecurity from studying which book was the most weathered and annotated. His fists were clenched at his side, teal eyes rapt on your relaxed figure.

Then, you snapped your eyes back to meet his and smiled so brightly, he almost forgot what he was afraid of.

“Read this for me,” you gently pushed an old copy of Romeo and Juliet into his hands. Sae glowered, and he opened his mouth, about to refuse you when you stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You have a nice voice. Read to me, please?”

For the second time in his short life, Sae found another person bundled in his arms, enjoying the simple delight of reading a book out loud while rain pattered down the grimy windows.

There was a hollowness appearing in his chest, not from sadness, but an ache he couldn’t quite control. It reared its spiked head whenever you nuzzled his chest or kissed him softly. Demanded for him to devour every goodness in his path whenever he caught you smiling at him fondly.

Sae sensed you were falling in love with him.

And he was helpless to stop you.

Yet, there was a gaping hole right above that monstrous hollowness. It clashed heads with the beast, demanding for a piece of your attention. Demanding to hold you till you solidified within his grasp. Until he could finally get rid of the knives lodging in his lungs and breathe freely.

He curled a lock of your hair around his finger, tugging on it gently enough not to wake you up from your nap. You had nodded off to sleep when he was twenty pages into the book, curling into the crook of his arms.

Sae snapped the crumpled paperback shut, and set it on your thigh.

Your breathing was steady, lashes casting shadows over your cheeks. He ached to kiss each mark on your face, holding himself back from the monster looming in the back of his mind.

But, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to press his lips right to your cheek. He pursed his lips in his own awkward rendition of a kiss, leaning back immediately when he felt your breathing stutter. The scent of vanilla and coconut from your skin stung him like a sweet rush of electricity.

I love her.

Simple and kind. Those words did not strike him with fear, but a sense of realisation.

Swallowing hard, Sae tried to tame the butterflies exploding in his belly. They fought to escape, ramming past his ribcage with the ferocity of a stampede.

I love her.

He should’ve been afraid of such a revelation, but all Sae felt in this moment was pure, unadulterated peace.

Boy falls in love with the girl.

And so, the story begins.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#🦢 writes #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae x you #sae x reader #blue lock #sae smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #series: sucker punch #🥊 — bllk ufc verse

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lalunanymph · 5 months ago

Text

sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, rin is down bad for his gf, mentions of blood, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, sae's repressed emotions™, mentions of injuries, sae hurts reader (a bruise)

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

✯ chapter 3

“Where are you taking me?”

In hindsight, Sae would’ve thought it was ridiculous to keep you blindfolded when he was just taking you to the beach. But, this wasn’t just any beach. It was the one spot in this rancid city he found solace in everytime the clamour of staying alive got too loud for him to handle.

He chuckled wryly. “It’s a surprise.”

You huffed and crossed your arms, looking way too adorable in your pink spaghetti strap dress that he almost leaned over the console to peck your cheek, never mind he was speeding down a highway.

“People are going to think you’ve kidnapped me.”

“And not tie you up?” Sae mocked, oblivious to your face flushing warmly. “I’d be a pretty shitty kidnapper, don’t you think?”

He caught you shifting in your seat out of the corner of his eye. His smirk widened. “Don’t tell me you’re actually turned on by that?”

Your pout stretched across your pretty pink mouth, and he ached to swipe the expensive lip gloss off your lips. He restrained himself from diving headfirst into his lust, fixing his eyes back onto the road.

“Maybe,” you mumbled breezily, and jumped when you felt his large hand on your thigh.

“You really are a little freak, aren’t you?”

Your laughter reverberated in the car, but you didn’t deny him. Sae let it slide, focused on the horizon where the beach was coming up. Once he stopped the car, he helped you out, holding your hand and carefully guiding you, his face close enough for his voice and warm breath to touch your neck. It made the idea of this entire trip even more mysterious when you smelled the familiar scent of a sea breeze.

“Okay, stop here.”

There was a rustling sound, and you waited patiently for him to reappear, hands laced demurely in front of you.

“Take off your blindfold.”

You did as he said, blinking your eyes to the scene that greeted you.

A chequered mat was set down on a relatively empty stretch of beach, held down at the four corners by a few weights. On top of the mat was a simple spread of food and sparkling juice. The sun was just right at the horizon, casting a warm orange glow around the serene scene.

“Sae…”

His pinched frown turned into a secret relieved smile behind your back when you cooed at his efforts.

“This is so nice! And the beach is really pretty, too.” Eagerly you turned around to him, touched by his gesture. “Thank you.”

Sae caught you in his arms, taken aback by your fierce embrace. His face flushed warmly, a pink dusting on his cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

You untwined your arms from around his torso, beaming up at him with the brightest smile he had ever seen. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold!”

He had packed some sandwiches and a few pastries, a perfect accompaniment to the tart, sparkling juice he poured into two blue plastic cups. Afterwards, he read out the remainder of Romeo and Juliet to you as your head was pressed against his chest, drowsy eyes and flushed cheeks warmed from the day and your happiness.

Sae wished that it would never end. That the sky didn’t have to be dotted with the first sign of stars.

“How did you find this spot?”

He hummed, staring out into the waves. “I used to come here all the time after a fight. To just sit with the waves and my own thoughts. Didn’t matter if I won or lost. It’s peaceful here.” Turning to you, his teal gaze softened. “I found this place by chance. I got lost trying to get to the main beach and took a wrong turn. Best mistake I ever made.”

“Sounds like serendipity,” you mumbled back, tracing patterns onto his bare chest. The wind was picking up and you started to shiver.

Sae noticed your discomfort and reached into the basket, pulling a woven blanket out and wrapping it around your shoulders. You gave him a grateful smile, tugging the other end onto his chest to give him some of your combined warmth.

The last sliver of orange was in the sky, a deep inky blue splashing across the heavens and bringing out the faint specks of celestial light far away.

“Did you know that these stars are the same ones Cleopatra, Davinci and even our first Emperor used to gaze at?” you asked in a soft, reverent voice. You couldn’t see his expression, but you felt his curiosity pique.

“Are they?”

You nodded. “The stars we see now from our end are the same ones our ancestors used to see all those centuries ago. Cool, right?”

“Hmm.” He seemed like he was gathering his thoughts. “I never looked up at them long enough to know that.”

“Because you like to have your head firmly on the ground,” you teased.

“And you have your head up in the clouds,” he shot back, unafraid to go toe-to-toe with you. That was another thing you loved about Itoshi Sae. Where others would concede to your whims and ideas because of your status in life, Sae was not afraid to push back and remind you that you were just as human as him.

You smiled and kissed his jaw. “Fine. You win this round. The next time, I won’t be as easy.”

A playful smirk teased the corners of his mouth. “Good. Don’t. I like arguing with you.”

You smoothed your palm down his chest, admiring how firm his muscles felt underneath your touch. “Sae?”

“Hmm?”

“Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”

He paused to think your question through, a furrow appearing in his otherwise creaseless brow. “Since when did this become an interview?” he shot back, and nearly broke his irritated front to release a laugh when you pouted in annoyance.

“I just wanted to know you better.”

Lacing his fingers with yours, Sae pressed the soft underside of your wrist to his lips, contemplating your question.

“I guess… I see myself stable. Money in the bank, the boys happy and well-fed.” He added after a beat of silence. “No more fighting.”

“No more?”

He touched his gaze to yours, nodding firmly. “No more. It’s not a life I want to live.”

“Then what made you choose this life in the first place?”

I didn't have a choice, would be his honest answer. The less sappy one was, “The money is good.”

You flitted your gaze down to his hand holding yours. “You seem to care about money a lot, huh?”

“When you grew up not having it, yeah,” he countered back, ignoring the shock widening your eyes at his vitriol. “If you’re used to it, money can seem like nothing. But, if your whole life was empty of it, it’s everything.”

Dropping your gaze from his searing one, you nodded. “I… I understand.”

Do you? He wanted to bite back. What does a rich girl like you know about starvation? About living on your last thousand yen. Or, not having enough food to feed your little brother?

As if you could read his thoughts, you exhaled shakily, raising your palms to cup his face. “And I’m rooting for you, Sae. I want you to get through this.” A sad smile graced your lips. “I want you to be happy and live better.”

He swallowed down the heavy, greasy sensation of a choked sob. Turning his face away from you, he gestured to the setting sun. “It’s late. Let’s go home.”

Like the world slowly descending into night, Itoshi Sae drew the blinds on his past, cloaking you in its darkness. Unable to show you his real self.

You hesitantly peeled your cheek from his chest, eyes downcast. “Sae?”

He got up, trailing his gaze to the paisley blanket. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, fiddling with your fingers. “I only wanted to know you better. I didn’t mean to intrude or make you uncomfortable.”

The prickly defences he held close to his chest like armour fractured slightly at the edges. He looped his arm around you, drawing you to his chest. “It’s okay,” he mumbled into your hair. “I’m not mad.”

And it was the reassurance you wanted to know that Sae was still yours. That he still allowed you to stay in his life.

It was all the comfort you needed.

The U20 and Blue Lock match grew closer and closer, encroaching upon your calendar like a red circle of doom.

You had held your tongue so far with Sae, but you couldn’t keep the curiosity from overflowing. There were days when you came to terms with the fact that you didn’t know much about the man who shared your bed. All you understood was that he was determined and hardworking—never one for speaking much unless he was prompted.

He was pushing himself further with his training, putting in late nights and crawling back into bed in the early hours of a bleak morning. Like clockwork, your arms would always wrap around him, welcoming him home with a kiss on his forehead and a nuzzle into his shoulder.

Itoshi Sae had crept into your bloodstream, slotting himself into your life like your favourite cardigan. Those nights of falling asleep in your large bed alone seemed a distant memory whenever you woke up in the morning with his body pressed to yours. The dinners you took alone with all of Tokyo spread out from your balcony like a shimmering, lonely promise turned into lively conversations about books, pets and life.

Those paperbacks you were once too busy to read were perched on your knees every weekend, opened up to the last page you both left off for you to speak out those lines into the peaceful living room and his patient ears. Cooking was no longer a chore but a time for you to bond with Sae on his favourite childhood dishes. He loved the kombu salad you made a few days ago, shyly asking if you could pack it into his lunch bento box the next day.

And yet, no one else knew of this secret love affair unfurling behind closed doors.

Sae had not introduced you to his world beyond that time you had reached out to him in Oliver’s gym, and you were afraid to take him to places where your other rich friends would haunt in case he would feel uncomfortable. In a way, it was a half love affair lived through snatches of shadow where the sun could never touch.

But, like fantasy, it had to come crashing down to make space for reality.

It happened during one fight before the Ult Match. Sae was slated to go against a rookie from Blue Lock—a warm up match leading to the one with his brother.

He hadn’t even told you he was going to be in the ring, and you came back home to a nasty shock.

Trails of blood dotted your pristine floors, leading into the bathroom. You followed it, heart in your throat, gripping your pepper spray to your chest. When you opened the door, you found your auburn-haired lover bent over the sink, trying to wrap a piece of gauze around his ripped arm.

Your heart fell into your stomach, and you dropped the spray, alerting him with your gasp. “Sae!”

He averted his gaze from yours, concentrating on his wound. “It’s nothing,” he tried to reassure you, but it came off as cold and dismissive instead. “I’m patching myself up.”

You observed him struggling to wrap the bandage around his torn skin, conflicted if you should help.

Sae wanted to tell you that it was okay—to go and eat your dinner first as he fixed up what that rookie fucker gave him. But, he never expected your cool touch on his bicep. Or, your silence as you took over, gripping the end of the bandage and winding it around his injury. Sae leaned back against the sink, bare-chested and flushed with both agony and sweat.

“How did this happen?” Your voice was low and judgement-free. Filled with curious apprehension.

Sae grunted. “Asshole had a knife on him. I barely dodged it when he managed to catch my arm. Oliver gave me a pair of brass knuckles during half-time and I paid him back for the wound. On his face.”

You winced, but didn’t stop to work on him. “You have to be careful,” you urged softly, unable to look him in the eyes so that he wouldn’t notice the sting in yours. Tears started to well, threatening to spill from your lash line. “I-I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Hey.” As if sensing your composure about to go downhill, Sae brought you back from the brink by caressing your cheek with his cold fingers. He coaxed you to look at him, searching your gaze and growing sober by what he found there. “Don’t need to cry for me. Happens all the time.”

You dropped your gaze back to his wound, and he dropped his hand to his side. Despite your understanding of how sensitive this topic was to your lover, you just had to feed your destructive curiosity; trying to find a pulse of kindness in this man you desperately wanted to know inside and out.

“What if you had to give Rin a similar injury?”

A silence unlike any other stretched out; loud and fragile. You held your breath. Sae exhaled noisily.

“Then, I’ll do it. We’re fighters in the ring, not brothers—”

“I don’t understand you.”

To him, you sounded angry and irrational. But in reality, you were truly despairing because what kind of brother could stomach even thinking about physically wounding his own younger sibling?

It was impossible. Sae wasn’t made of stone. He was human, warm and vulnerable. You could tell he had the power to love if he just let his heart come out of the shadows. But, you had sorely overestimated him; Itoshi Sae was tainted with a cruelty that coated his true desire for love and comfort.

His stubbornness would be the malaise he bore onto his own shoulders; a self-sabotaging foe he mistook as a friend.

You bulldozed on as you viciously tightened the bandage around his arm a little too hard. “You’re so… so aloof. This is your brother you’re talking about and you’d be willing to hurt him. To kill him. It’s like you don’t have a heart, Itoshi. All you’re so focused on is being the best that you don’t care who you hurt along the way. I don’t think—”

Sae wrenched his arm away from you. You stopped in the middle of your rant, fixing him with wide eyes.

You had seen Sae disinterested, annoyed and even disappointed whenever he complained about how useless the other fighters were. But, you had never seen him in a complete red cloud of rage.

“Shut. Up.”

His unexpected rebuke left you cold all over. “W-what—”

“I said—shut up.”

He grabbed both of your wrists, dragging you close to his body. Ignoring your terrified squeak, he pushed you back into the wall, using his bulkier figure and strength to trap you against the freezing tiles. You bit back on a yell when he dug his fingers into your wrist, setting off sparks of pain running up your arms.

“Sae—!”

“You’re such a fucking pain,” he snarled, and you had never been as terrified of him as you were now.

“I wish you would just get the fuck away from me. I wish I never met you. All you fucking do is meddle in my life and try to play an important part in it. Don’t you see? You’re useless. I don’t need you to fight my battles. Stop fucking trying to butt your way into my problems. I only entertained your advances because we needed your money. You were a means to an end and I fucking swear I will never listen to Oliver’s plan again—he wanted me to do this. To trust you. He’s such a fucking pain—you’re such a fucking pain.” He released your wrists to deliver the death blow to your already shattered hopes, teal eyes gouging into your soul. “I never wanted you in the first place.”

The air in the bathroom became still. You smelled the rusted tang of his blood on your skin, on your sink. You heard him swallow loudly; your own breathing kicked up a notch, growing ragged. Dragging your eyes from his to the floor, you counted the splatters of red.

One, two, three… and you lost track.

Like scattered bloody stars dying across the universe of your bathroom floor, they were too hard to count.

Some of it smeared under your feet, staining your pristine white heels. A reminder that Itoshi Sae brought destruction with him wherever he went.

“Y/N—”

You flinched when he tried to reach out for you, drawing your throbbing wrists to your chest. The outstretched hand withered to his side, uncertain and despondent. His stare burned into your neck, your chest, trying to lap at your face. From the corner of your eye, you felt him open his mouth, his sudden regret like an unwelcome stranger rudely bumping into your shell-shocked body; their apologies had zero meaning and sincerity.

Smoke signals went off in your brain and the smog clogged your lungs. It felt like you could’ve dropped dead from asphyxiation, the entire room spinning in your periphery. So, you ran from the fire as fast as your legs could take you.

Turning around, you rushed out of the bathroom, ignoring his weak cries for you. You stumbled towards the fridge and rummaged for some ice, dropping it into a white cloth and pressing it to the part of your wrist that ached from his cruel grip.

The tears you held back trickled down your face, pinning you to the spot. You heard him come behind you. Felt his touch on your waist.

“Shit. I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I’m sorr—”

“Get out.”

Keeping your eyes fixed on a water stain ruining your otherwise pristine sink, you ignored his silent pleas; how he tugged on your arm gently to get you to look at him.

“I went too far—”

“Get out of my apartment before I call security on you.”

He dropped his hand like he had been scalded. “Baby—”

“Now, Itoshi.” You fought hard to contain the tremble in your tone. “Get out now. Before I change my mind and throw you out myself.”

An agonising minute passed where you both were at an impasse. Waiting for the other to give in first; Sae hoping that you would turn around, and you desperately wishing he would leave you alone.

Finally, he retreated after sensing you were too angry and terrified to give in.

Falling into your spiralling thoughts out of fear, you stood stock-still, hearing him rummage around your bedroom, trying to pack as quickly as he could. With his overnight bag of things, you let him up and leave your life. He put his shoes on, the scuffles of worn out rubber soles on the marble floor loud and grating.

Then, he walked out of your life for good.

The door slammed shut, and after what seemed like centuries, you defrosted. It felt like rain was pouring over your wounds, trying to remedy what was lost in the fire.

You unglued your lips, released your clawed grip around the soggy, lukewarm cloth in between your fingers. Your eyes closed, breath caught in your throat as you slowly turned around; completely afraid that his disappearance was a figment of your imagination and that he would still be there. But, when you pried your eyes open, he was gone.

For a second, you ached to call back for him. To tell him you didn’t mean it; that you wanted to try again.

He meant everything he said to you though, the chiming voice in the back of your mind gloated. He never even loved you. Ha! Love. You really thought he loved you, huh? That you two could be together. This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, you pathetic bitch. This is real life. Juliet didn’t have to pretend to die because it was Romeo who stuck a dagger into her chest first.

Sae killed us first… and I let him.

You slid to the ground, ignoring the splatters of water on the floor and blood still smearing the soles of your heels. Curling your knees to your chest, you pressed your forehead to them, choking back on the grief threatening to rise in your lungs.

Eventually, the forest fire that burned you down was engulfed in salty waves crashing into the wrecked trees, turning the world dark behind your watery lids.

For many years, the loveless turned their eyes to the stars to beg for the person of their affections to see them. They meticulously counted shooting stars, weaving desperate wishes of reciprocation on the still ones.

But, you couldn’t bear the thought of those celestial lights looming over you anymore. You never wanted to look at the stars again for as long as you were under the night sky.

There was nothing left in them to hope for.

His apartment had never felt this quiet and lonely.

Sae used to think he had filled up every crevice and space of this simple home he rented for a few thousand yen a month to keep the loneliness out. Books, cheap art, a creaky bed and even his threadbare collection of vinyls dotted the space from his measly effort of padding his life with meaning.

None of it felt familiar. He was a stranger surveying a foreign land.

Whose books were these? Who chose this colour for the bedsheets? Why weren’t the walls adorned with art?

This wasn’t his space. It had never been his.

But, this was where he belonged.

After setting his bag down on the couch and starting the kettle, he walked into the bathroom, trying to wash the grime and exhaustion off his face when he saw it. The tiny bottle of moisturiser you kept beside his sink.

Sae hadn’t even noticed it was there, evidence that you had wormed your way into his life without a single complaint from him because—for some unconscious reason—he had wanted you there.

Feelings were always a tricky subject with him, and the discovering of something deeper and tender filled him with a sorrow that was quickly trying to smother before it spiralled out of control.

Like a scientist stumbling upon signs of life on a once uninhabitable planet, he picked up the vial with the sombre reverence of making an earth-shattering discovery. Holding the tiny bottle in his comically large hand, he ran his thumb along the golden lettering and intricate design.

One second, it was in his hand, and in the other, the bottle flew out of his fist, shattering into a tiny million pieces against his bathroom tiles.

He had finally done it—what he was too afraid of doing a few weeks earlier.

Sae had effectively uprooted any signs of you—any signs of life—before it could fully bloom.

The hole you carried right under your ribcage continued to grow over the days when your phone remained empty.

Loving Itoshi Sae was hard, but you never expected it to be this difficult.

Sure, you both had your flaws (stubborn, short-fused, egotistic), but you expected him to at least try and sincerely apologise after hurting you. Nights of laying awake were wasted on bringing up his contact, typing out an angry paragraph only to delete it and switch your phone off. Exhaustion was your newfound friend, and you wore her like a badge of dishonour to everything your father had taught you about life, fighting and love.

No daughter of mine will ever have to get her hands dirty like I did just to feel welcome in this world.

You rubbed the spot over your wrist that had bruised over as you briskly walked down the hospital hallway in the direction of your father's grand suite. Once in front of his doors, you composed yourself, knocking on the wood three times.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm.”

“Come in.”

He was sitting up today, spooning some oatmeal around his bowl. The wrinkles on his face deepened when he smiled at you.

“Hi. You look well.” You sat on the chair next to his bed, hiding your bruised wrist behind your bag.

Your father chuckled. “Anyone would look good if they have nothing to do but eat, sleep and watch the news.” He shrugged and tipped his bowl over to give you a look. “And eat boring, bland oatmeal everyday.”

“It’s good for you,” you chided, taking over before he could protest and mixing the fruits into the beige sludge. “And you need to eat more fruits. I heard from the front desk that you sent them back to the kitchen. Twice.”

He kissed his teeth, making a face. “They taste salty.”

You chortled, putting the bowl back down on his hospital table. “It’s to preserve them better.”

Before you could retract your hands, your father took the left one, scrutinising the noticeable bruise on your wrist. “This wasn’t here the last time. What happened?”

Cautiously, you pried your hand away, hiding it behind your back. “I fell,” you lied, the corners of your mouth tight despite your smile. “Anyway, how have you been?”

You changed the subject and he frowned, remembering why he called you here in the first place.

“You remember Maeda-san? From my fighting days?”

“The one you destroyed with a Scorpion kick.” Your father’s legacy as one of the most lethal underground fighters in Tokyo left many in awe. It’s too bad his life of violence and brutality left him with untreated nerve damage that cost him his legs.

As if he could hear your thoughts, your father gently steered the topic back to safer waters. “Well, he has a son. Miyaki-kun. And I would like you to meet him.”

You blinked. The idea of your father orchestrating a blind date for you was definitely not in your cards when you mulled over why he suddenly wanted to meet you on a random Tuesday morning.

“What is the reason for this?” You proceeded to ask him slowly. As much as you were the apple of his eye, your father still ran the biggest underground ring in Tokyo. His word was law in your world.

“Miyaki-kun wants a wife,” your father’s bluntness left you speechless. “And we thought you would be the perfect candidate. The both of you are level-headed and he has a good professional background to support our endeavours.”

Money. Maeda Mikayi was loaded and your father wanted to leverage on that. Sometimes, you wondered if Sae was right: that money was everything and everything was money in this corrupted world.

At the thought of your (ex?) lover, you cringed, unable to separate your heart’s truest desire from reality. “I… I need to think about this.”

“Y/N,” your father’s wrinkled hand rested on yours. He coaxed you to look into his eyes, the paternal twinkle in them hard to ignore. “You’ve been alone for so long. Don’t you think it’s time to settle down? You’ll be so much more powerful with someone capable by your side.”

You are useless. I don’t need you to fight my battles. Stop fucking trying to butt your way into my problems. I only entertained your advances because we needed your money.

Sae’s words unexpectedly echoed in your mind and made your expression falter. Your father was quick to notice.

“Y/N?”

You struggled to recuperate your smile, though the sting behind your eyes gave it a watery quality. You hoped he didn’t notice. “Tou-san… how did you feel after mama divorced you?”

At the reminder of your mother who was currently in Seoul with her new husband, your father’s face deepened in regret.

He exhaled deeply, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Why’d you ask, darling?”

“I just…” you lost your words and he nodded, as if he understood you completely.

Kissing his teeth, your father began a familiar tale from his side of the narration, one you hadn't heard of before. “When your mother requested for a divorce, I was against it. I thought I could fight my way out of it—fight for her affection back—but she had her mind set.” He smiled again, but this time, it was tinged with sadness. “I knew it was my fault. I barely paid her any attention. Fighting and money took over my entire life. I didn’t know anything else but it. And she had had enough of me.”

You nodded, casting your eyes to the stark, white bed sheet. Your parent’s tale sounded awfully familiar. “Did you ever regret it?”

“Everyday,” he answered without a beat. “But—” his features softened. “—I would never hold her back from her true happiness. If it wasn’t with me, I’m glad she could find it with someone else, even at the expense of my own.”

You looked at your father—really looked at him. From a man who had a God-like build, he was now a frail husk of the legendary fighter you grew up loving and admiring. He was almost swallowed by the hospital blanket, the muscle loss making him look feeble and meek. Your heart broke all over again for him.

Unexpectedly, you leaned forward, kissing him on the forehead. “I still think you’re the strongest man in the world, tou-chan.”

He smiled at your childish honorifics for him. “Well, I guess that’s all that matters to me.” Sobering, he nodded, looping back to the question he asked you before. “So? What about meeting up with Miyaki? Maeda and I have huge plans for you two and we would love it if you both hit it off.”

You didn’t immediately respond to your father’s curiosity. A beat of hesitation passed where there were no noises in this room beyond your notched breathing. “You want me to marry him?”

A part of you prayed your father would say ‘no’. But, this was reality; wishing on stars led you to nowhere.

“Yes,” he said, and grinned. “But, it won’t happen tomorrow. If you both like each other enough, he will pop the question. And if he does, I want you to accept it. I want to see you happy, Y/N.”

I am happy, you wanted to argue, but it would be a lie. You couldn’t wait for wishes on a star to come true.

His name loomed in the back of your mind, dreary and bleak.

Sae…

He had revealed his real sentiments for you. He had shown you his true colours; how the man you fell in love with was nothing but a paper mache of your own projected desires and hopes. Despite what you wanted to believe, he didn’t like you.

He only tolerated you for your money and what you could bring to the table. Sae never saw you for who you were, or the potential you could have in his life.

It should’ve been the end of a story you knew very well.

Friends who had used you for your fame and wealth flashed in your mind. Men who chased after you because of the yen signs attached to your name made you internally curl up and want to cry.

I’m never loved for what I have but what I have to offer. You nearly sobbed at the thought. I’m never enough for anyone.

But, you had a choice. You had a choice to be valued differently and it started with taking the very first step in choosing you.

“Okay.” You gave your father a small grin. “I’m open to meeting Miyaki-kun, and if… if something good comes out of it, I might be open to more.”

Your father’s hopeful smile was infectious. There was no way you could deny him when he looked this happy.

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements,” he retorted and paused.

After a second of silence, he murmured:

“Give Miyaki-kun a chance. I believe he can make you so very happy if you open your heart to it, Y/N.”

The needle piercing the bulge of coagulated blood under his eye drew a sharp hiss from Sae.

In the corner of his hazy periphery, Oliver frowned. “Nanase got you real good there.”

No shit motherfucker, he wanted to snarl. As if he could read Sae’s mind, Oliver sighed. “You were sloppy in the ring. Your mind is not here, Sae.” A frown decorated his scruffy features. “What’s gotten into you?”

Despite knowing how much of a prickly person Sae was with his privacy, Oliver was still determined to discover what was making his starfighter lose his focus during fights.

Your name was right on his tongue, but Sae swallowed it down.

“Nothing,” he muttered coldly, wincing when more blood trickled down his cheek. “Mind your damn business.”

“Is it Y/N?”

Sae swore if he didn’t actually have a soft spot for the guy, he would’ve socked Aiku in the face. The other man wiped the stained needle on a white cloth, his frown turning into a smirk.

“Did she help you relax before the fight? Is that why you’re acting so damn floozy?”

Sae didn’t answer him, and Oliver continued with his monologue, used to his friend’s stony silence. “I heard some news about Y/N’s family. They’re about to sign a deal with the Maeda's. Dunno if you know.”

He had no idea what Oliver was talking about, but the sudden mention of your name was enough to draw the spark of interest back in his dull gaze. His friend must’ve noticed his perplexed eagerness, and chuckled.

“Bet your girl will tell you later. But, I heard it’s big news. Could mean something good for us.”

With those words, he patted Sae on the back just as the second halftime bell went off. “Go destroy that fucker.”

The spotlight burned through his swollen eye, and the dark-haired asshole opposite the ring had the audacity to throw him a wave.

“Sae-san! Good to see you are still up.”

His expression was ice-cold with indifference. Was this kid intentionally trying to get a rise out of him? Every year, these younger fighters got cockier and cockier, thinking they could win his attention because they had the privilege of going toe-to-toe with him.

Nanase Nijiro was a new fighter from Blue Lock, and if his stats were proven correct, he was as lethal as Rin and Isagi.

But, those numbers didn’t mean a thing when Sae had him knocked off his feet with a double throw, a first in the U20 ring history. Cheers and screams echoed around the dingy walls, and he gave the crowd a half-hearted wave, his expression of stony disinterest broadcasted across the screens.

Sae had been doing this long enough to feel numb. He had fought and defeated better men in his lifetime. Nothing brought him much interest in the underground fighting world anymore… except for the man who was hovering by the exit.

A twin pair of teal eyes locked onto his, and Sae realised he was staring into the face of his own younger brother.

“What are you doing here?” The words came out harsher than he intended, when he was just surprised at the sight of Rin.

The boy he abandoned on the day Child Services came to save them from their dreary lives stuck his hands in his pockets, his scowl matching his older brother’s. When did he get this tall?

“We’re gonna be fighting each other in two days’ time.”

Sae blinked, his constructed cold expression never faltering. “Yeah. And?”

“And I want to tell you that it’s okay to back out of it while you can.”

Rin’s words hit him like a freight train. Suddenly, your voice chimed in the back of his mind.

No matter what anyone says, a brotherly bond can never be destroyed.

Sometimes, the thought of you would leave him dumbfounded whenever it arose in his mind. It wasn’t like Sae was stupid. He distinctly felt a strange you-shape that had cut into his heart the moment you had told to get out of your apartment. He missed you. But, he was as stubborn as he was horrible with his emotions.

The only three people in his life who knew this were you, Oliver, and the brother he was supposed to beat in a deadly fight, standing right in front of him with his arms across his broader chest. Seeing how tall, stocky and well-adjusted Rin had become ever since the day he left that bright-eyed, hopeful boy behind filled Sae with elation, jealousy and a wistful regret.

Elation because it meant the woman Rin was dating loved him enough to heal the wounds his own brother left behind on his scarred heart.

Jealousy because he had better access to food, healthcare and love than Sae did on the streets which contributed to his better (god forbid he should ever admit that out loud) height and build.

And a wistful regret because if Sae could turn back time, he would’ve never stepped out of that window in the first place and left his own baby brother behind.

Rin was waiting for his reply. Sae let his pride and ego answer for him.

“No. Investment money has already come in. If we back out of this now, there’s no telling how they will destroy our careers.”

Rin dropped his gaze to the floor. He, too, understood the consequences if a fighter were to refuse a fight. They were tools of amusement for old, rich and bored men. Pawns didn’t retaliate or decide if they didn’t want to go to war. They had no choice.

Those teal blue eyes that reminded Sae so much of their mother turned to him. Something hollow caved in his chest, and if he were a weaker man, he would’ve started to cry. But, Sae wasn’t weak. His years of fighting made him strong; made him immune to emotions. He had to be strong for U20’s sake.

“Fine,” his younger brother murmured, removing his hands from his pockets. “I’ll see you in the ring, then.”

Before he could turn and walk away, Sae stopped him with a question that neither brother expected to hear tonight.

“Did she tell you not to do this? Your girlfriend?”

At the mention of the woman his brother loved in a tone he misinterpreted as contempt, Rin spun around, teeth slightly bared.

“Don’t you fucking make her sound like a nag. She only cares for me, that’s why she begged me to drop out from the fight. It’s not as if you would understand—you have no one you care for.”

Sae took one step forward, a red fog rolling over his thoughts. Rin was wrong—he was absolutely wrong. Sae did have someone he cared about, someone who had changed his life for the better. And it was entirely his fault that he had lost her. But, instead of expressing his jealousy or trying to make his brother understand, he did what he always did the best—strike where it hurt the most.

“I never took you to be such a doormat for a woman.”

“Fuck you, Sae.”

Rin retaliated, tensing into his full height. It took a lot of patience for him not to lash out at his older brother; Sae noticed his hands curled into fists at his side, trembling slightly. “I love her. She loves me. She cares for me. What would you know about love? You don’t have a heart to love anyone.”

Everyone who was anyone in the underground fighting world had heard about Sae’s notoriously detached personality. They saw him as a cold sleet of ice; no human heartbeat, a Prodigy, a genius who had no feelings. But, then, you came along.

And for a split second, Sae understood where Rin was coming from. It was his girlfriend’s love which fuelled him to make the right choices—not because she was trying to emasculate him, but because he loved her enough to consider her concerns; to value their shared life together and sacrifice his ego so their peace would be protected.

If Sae had healthier emotions, he would commend Rin for his bravery in facing down the one man who had abandoned him, turned him away when he tried to reach out to his nii-san, and destroyed his hopes of ever being a family again with his cold nature.

Whoever his brother was dating, Sae hoped she had the best that life could give her. It was the least she deserved for loving and healing a man broken by his own brother.

The older Itoshi watched the broad outline of his brother’s back disappearing behind a corner, Rin’s words latching onto his battered emotions.

What would you know about love? You don’t have a heart to love anyone.

It’s like you don’t have a heart, Itoshi.

Your voice seared through him again, leaking past the cracks of his defences. Luckily, there was no one to see him stagger into a wall, sliding down the grimy exposed brick as your face swam past his memory, pinched, scared and pleading for him to see reason.

She only cares for me, that’s why she begged me to drop out from the fight.

Weren’t you pleading for him to do the same?

Sae was suddenly hyper-aware of every memory he had of you in his mind. Your sweet smile, how the scent of vanilla seemed to be embedded in your hair; how you felt in his arms and the cadence of your tone whenever you tried to make him choose better for himself. It was like the gauze over his eyes was lifted and he could see again.

For the first time in days, he switched on his phone, shards of anxiety stabbing his soul when he scrolled through his empty call log.

There was no one who would reach out to him. Sae had effectively cocooned himself in his own detached world that he had no one else to drag him out of his misery. He only had his own breath; the blood rushing in his ears.

Through some miracle, Sae managed to stand onto his own two feet, and he staggered back home. Ignoring his car parked in front of the gym, he decided to take the scenic route to his apartment located 15 minutes away. As he walked in the fugue of his own thoughts, he passed a payphone booth. The thing was rundown, covered in graffiti and lewd imagery. But, its dial tone was still working.

The buttons sprung back against his heavy finger when he dialled a number he now only discovered he knew by heart. Another strand of evidence that you had managed to wrangle your way under his skin. Sae shot those nagging thoughts down, desperate to hear your voice.

“Hello?”

Sae swore he teared up when he heard your sweet tone (why hadn’t he noticed how mellifluous it was? How it drew him in with every cadence and lilt, entrancing him like a siren’s call?) His knuckles turned white against the receiver, the lump in his throat gagging him from answering you.

“Hello? Who is this?”

He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the smeared glass pane.

“Hello? Hmm… must be a wrong number.”

“Y/N—”

The dial tone echoed down the line like a bully’s taunt, resounding in his mind like twisted white noise.

Sae exhaled.

He didn’t have enough loose change to give you another call, and hung the receiver back with a choked sigh.

The night blurred into one long walk of neon colours, kombinis and deserted promenades, his mind stuck on a loop of his intense ruminations.

He reached his apartment, opening the door, and was struck by how quiet everything was. No one wished him a warm welcome home. No smell of food came from the kitchen. No warm hugs, smiles and you.

There was no you in his life anymore.

It had never dawned on him how terribly, eerily silent his world was without you to give it any light.

As if a ton of bricks were weighing him down, he threw his bag onto the floor, slumping onto the couch.

I miss her.

The memory of your terrified expression swam in his mind, how your hands trembled when he dug his fingers into your wrist. She was afraid of me. His shaking hands closed into fists. I hurt her… I can’t believe I hurt her.

Sae didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say to change your mind. He didn’t know how to say sorry because he never had to in his entire life.

On the other hand, his fight with Rin would be the day after tomorrow. If Sae pissed you off even more, there was no telling if you would withdraw your investment, leaving U20 in the lurch with no funds for their next season. He had to play his cards right.

Maybe he would reach out to you after the fight. That way, both of your minds would be clear and hopefully, open to reconciliation.

He glanced at his twisted fingers in despair.

I’m sorry Y/N. Let me make it up to you when the time is right.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#🦢 writes #:((#sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae x you #sae x reader #blue lock #sae smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #series: sucker punch #🥊 — bllk ufc verse

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lalunanymph · 2 months ago

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sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, fights, mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol, mentions of injuries, mentions of food, sae's repressed emotions™, arranged marriages (not between reader and sae oof), heavy angst

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

✯ chapter 5

“Miss Y/N, can I get you some lunch?”

It was a miracle you could hear your assistant’s meek voice from behind the door, considering you were currently curled up underneath your desk with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“No,” you weakly called out when you realised she was waiting for your answer. “I’ll be f-fine. Please, clear out my lunch schedule and close the main door behind you.”

If she heard your voice wobbling, she didn’t comment on it.

“Of course, ma’am.”

Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, and you heard the telltale click of the main office door closing. Your head thumped back against the lacquered wood, a sob greeting the still air underneath your desk. And another one. Then, you couldn’t hold back the flood.

Your vision went blurry, tears dripping down your cheeks. Fixating on a piece of dust near your right thigh, you poured your heart out for a man who could’ve been yours in a different lifetime. Stuttered sobs and gasping wails slipped past your open mouth, your knees pressed to your chest offering what little support you needed to get you through this heartbreaking spell.

You laced your fingers together, pressing them to your mouth to keep your cries from reaching the other end of the door, your engagement band searing your cheek.

Life was never fair, wasn’t it?

All you ever wanted was Itoshi Sae in his entirety. You could’ve lived with the prejudice, the gossip, and the snide remarks the upper class assholes in your life would throw your way. You could’ve lived without your father’s money if it meant you could wake up with him by your side.

But, he had hurt you. He had thrown your love back into your face when you thought it was the only thing you possessed that was worth offering to him.

Loving Sae was like a surrender. Which was an irony considering how you were always a fighter. It was an act of surrendering your flaws, your insecurities and defences right in his hands.

You had played all of your cards to get him to love you. But, like an idiot, you had lost this gamble, with your heart as the spoils of war.

You wanted to wrench your engagement ring off and toss it down the building. You had only agreed because you were tired of running towards love only for it to rebuke you. And your father looked so hopeful that you would say ‘yes’, you couldn’t possibly refuse him.

You’re such a fucking pain, I wish you would just get the fuck out of my life. More tears rushed down your face.

I wish I never met you. All you fucking do is meddle in my life and try to play an important part in it. Don’t you see? You are useless. I don’t need you to fight my battles. Stop fucking trying to butt your way into my problems. I only entertained your advances because we needed your money. I never wanted you in the first place.

You pressed your fist right into your mouth to silence your wails.

He hated you. Itoshi Sae hated you. But, why did he come back to you, then?

I was scared.

But, so were you.

Loving someone outside of your station was not easy. You had a huge responsibility on your shoulders, expectations to live up to. Your father would disown you. The society you grew up in would shun you. You were scared, too.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t survive on this rollercoaster.

Miyaki Maeda was a better prospect for you. He was smart, polite.

(He didn’t hate you).

He appreciated your efforts and genuinely seemed excited to marry you. There was someone right in front of you who valued you in your totality, not what you could offer him.

Unlike Sae.

You swiped your tears away, hearing your phone vibrate above your desk. Blindly reaching for it, your heart constricted when you saw the name on the screen.

Silently, you wondered what would happen if you entertained his advances. Perhaps it would fill that void in your bruised ego, but still leave you hungry for more love.

You couldn’t live on crumbs alone. You deserved a love willingly served to you on a platter.

Sae could never offer you his heart. He had chipped away at it the day he became The Prodigy. And like a fool, you had earnestly believed you could change his mind. Make him fall in love with you.

But, all that gave you was a broken heart and a wretched forlornness which disintegrated your soul like acid to metal. Your hopes in Itoshi Sae were gone.

His name stopped flashing across the screen, and then reappeared a few seconds later.

With shaky fingers, you declined his call. For added measure, you blocked his contact off your phone. It felt like you had committed a great, seismic sin.

The resounding silence had never been this loud.

Your entire world was crashing down, but somehow, nothing changed. The sun still filtered in through your yellowing blinds. The spot of dust by your thigh never moved despite your sobs stirring the air. The band around your finger wasn’t placed there by hands with calloused fingers and split knuckles.

Itoshi Sae’s love didn’t touch your outer world, and it hurts. It hurts to know that such a huge part of your devotion and love was given to a man who did not leave an indelible mark on you. There was no sign of his promise on your finger. No future growing inside your womb. It was like you opened your eyes one day and he never existed.

Was it your destiny to only fleetingly taste true love on your tongue and then never have it again for the rest of your life?

You had no answer to that.

So, you continued staring at the unmoving piece of dust, numbed by the neverending of your desolate inner world.

It was enough heartbreak and heavy thoughts for the day.

Alcohol has never been his best friend.

Unlike other fighters who loved getting drunk and knocking each other’s teeth out, Sae preferred matcha lattes over a whiskey on the rocks. This time, his preferences veered differently. Somehow, he found himself sitting on his own couch, staring at a water stain on his wall as he lifted the smeared glass to his lips. An old bottle of liquor which someone gifted him but he never opened was the victim to his loveless numbing.

After the fiasco in your office, Sae had crawled back into his shell, never to be seen for three days. All 27 calls he left on your phone went unanswered, and it didn’t take a genius to know you had blocked him.

He heard footsteps outside of his apartment, but they always faded away every time they got closer to his door. Sae had no motivation to see who it was.

His couch was his cradle, the ceiling his watchful guardian. He barely had an appetite for food, and spent his days staring blankly at the walls, waiting for his phone to ring.

It never did.

After the third day of his exile from the world, his stomach rumbled, and he decided to stand up and fix himself some instant ramen. It immediately took him back to the first unofficial date he had with you (he had never even taken you out on a real date), the savory broth bringing back memories of your sweet smile and chiming laugh.

He remembered how the lights of the ramen shop highlighted your hair, illuminated your grin. Even amidst the greasy fumes and jostling crowd, you fit in like a glove; a seamless part of his world that he took for granted.

The soup laid untouched, and he had curled himself back onto the couch.

A few hours later, he woke up from a fitful doze, deciding his stagnant body needed to move. It would be late, but Oliver had given him a spare key for the gym.

When he got there, the last car had just pulled out of the parking lot. His auburn hair was hidden underneath a hoodie, his hands fists in his pockets. The moment he stepped back into the ring, he was assaulted by a heavy feeling of loss he couldn’t ignore.

Sae couldn’t let his tears fall, not in such an open space. So, he strapped his gloves on and threw a few half-hearted punches onto the worn down sandbag. The room was spinning around the edges, but he pushed his body till failure; till sweat was running down his face, replacing his urge to sob.

His stomach was churning heavily, a greasy, disgusting sensation he couldn’t quite name rising from the pits of his soul.

He managed to close up the gym after an unfulfilling session, staggering out into the street.

A couple of twinkles dotting the inky sky caught his attention. Sae stared up at the stars, a faraway look in his eye. I wish she was here with me.

During this time, he would be home with you, cooking a hot meal or laying back on the couch as you both read a book together. But, here he was instead, sitting on the pavement outside the gym doors, knuckles throbbing and mind hazy with exhaustion.

His stomach grumbled, and he reluctantly picked himself up from the sidewalk, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. Deciding to walk back to his apartment to get some steps in after days of being glued to his sofa, Sae made his way down the familiar streets, the closing doors of shops and opening ones of bars beckoning him to stay and savor the night.

No one would nag him for coming home past 8PM. No one would even care if he even came home or not.

He dawdled along the streets, passing drunken groups of teenagers, avoiding giggling streams of women. His listless eyes scanned the different storefronts, lingering on one which caught his sights.

It was a wedding store, filled with poofy dresses lining the front windows. Stately mannequins were posed by the glass in the season’s latest lace and organza offerings, instantly attracting anyone’s attention. There was a slight movement in the store, and Sae squinted when he noticed the familiar sheen of someone’s hair.

His feet took him one step forward without his consent. And another. And another until he was standing right in front of the huge window undetected.

Numbly, he watched as you crossed the store with the clerk behind you, arms raised, clad in a sleeveless sleek dress, white as the first snow. The look on your face was demure, eyes lowered. The older woman stopped in front of the gilded mirror to adjust your hem and you dropped your arms primly. Through the reflection, he watched your face spread out into a soft grin, a sweet laugh slipping past your blush-painted lips.

An unknown cocktail of emotions filled his entire chest. Happiness at finally seeing you, disbelief at what you were wearing… and the crushing realization that came after.

Oh.

You weren’t here by coincidence. This wasn’t the universe’s providence in giving him a chance to see you again. It was a reality check that hurt harder than a slap.

Because you weren’t here for any random reason.

You were here to try on your wedding dress.

Sae stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over a ditch. He righted himself in time to see your face breaking out in a sweet smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling. The man who would be your husband wasn’t here, and you were very well alone.

If he took one step forward… if he burst through the door…

He kept his eyes on you, rapt and unwavering. You looked healthier. Your cheeks were filled with color again, like they were always meant to be—not pale from fright. Those eyes he loved were brimming with warmth, not glossy with tears.

The reality was you looked happier than he had ever seen you.

Sae’s shoulders slumped forward, the same sickly feeling he experienced in the ring creeping up his throat. It was expelled in a shaky sob, and he bit on his lower lip to keep the trembles from spiraling out of his control (his measured, stoic, ever reliable control).

But, the lingering agony wouldn’t let him go. It clawed straight into his soul, ripping whatever was left of his composure the more he drank in the sight of your body wrapped in that stunning white silk.

She would make such a beautiful bride, the thought rang through his mind like a gunshot.

The next one left him with a gaping wound wide enough to swallow his entire ego, bleeding through his consciousness like a dark stain.

I wish I could see it for myself when she walks down the aisle. He swallowed thickly, heavily.

I wish she was mine forever.

Sae couldn’t help but press his palm to the shop’s glass window, wishing he was close enough to grab your hand (man enough to win you back).

I wish I hadn’t fucked up and hurt the only person I love.

Love. The word tasted bittersweet on his tongue. What did he know about love?

Rin was right. He didn’t have a heart.

You were right.

He was heartless.

The best thing he could do in this situation was take a step back. Sae already had you; he already had your days and nights—and what did he do?

He crushed your hopes of ever loving him.

Dropping his eyes to his split knuckles, he exhaled shakily.

You hadn’t noticed him from the other end of the shop, chattering away obliviously. Sae took one step back, sinking into the shadows where he belonged.

Not beside you in the light, but in a far, unreachable place.

Like drawing the curtains close, the darkness crept over his eyes, clouding his once vulnerable features. He lifted those teal eyes towards you again, drinking in your sweet expression, memorizing it as the first face he had ever loved in this lifetime.

In the silence and darkness of the night, he shot you a secret, sad smile, one which you would never see and he would never show anyone again.

Taking one step back, he turned around and walked away, burying the future and past where it belonged—out of his reach.

Maybe in another life, you would both be together. Maybe you would’ve worn that dress for him. Smiled just for him as you walked down the aisle.

But, real life doesn’t work like the stories he read.

Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they fight and he loses her.

Boy stands a street away, unable to tear his eyes from her. He watches the girl step into her new life, while he’s left behind in the lurch.

She lives happily ever after.

While he just lives.

Normally, Sae would never follow Aiku on one of his drinking excursions, but today wasn’t a normal day.

They’d just sign a new contract to build up a dormitory attached to the gym so younger fighters with no homes could stay under their roof. It was a bittersweet, almost nostalgic throwback to their lives before this sudden win, and Sae finds it appropriate it should happen two weeks after the mythical U20 vs. Blue Lock match.

The other boys were causing mayhem as usual, Shidou terrorizing the dance floor while the rest of them heartily drank and lost themselves in the cheer of such an achievement.

It wasn’t everyday a man could see his dreams come true, and Sae took a second to savor it all, closing his eyes and inhaling the smoke.

“Oi. Stop dozing off and look after my drink. I’m gonna take a piss.”

Oliver’s grating voice over the music knocks Sae out from the moment, and he shoots the guy one quick, death glare. Not to be deterred, Aiku snorts, spinning on his heel and stalking to the men’s room, leaving Sae alone at the bar.

Out of habit, those quicksilver teal eyes scrutinize the dance floor and the establishment, sniffing for the first scent of danger.

Some boys were chugging beers, goading each other on to see who could drink the most. A few others congregated around the pool table, shooting sets and arguing over shoddy misses. Other than the riotous complaints and boyish thumps on broad backs, nothing was out of the ordinary.

Sae chuckles as their voices rise over the din and smoke; once a fighter, always a fighter.

The doors burst open and the air instantly changes.

Every eye turns to the entrance, where a man clad in a suit walks in with two other men, the scent of wealth and entitlement radiating off them in waves. Sae frowns, slinking closer into the shadows to assess this face he’s seen before.

It hits him like lightning on a stormy night, stirring his soul: this is Maeda Miyaki.

Outlandish as the idea was, he perks up; looks behind the men to see if you would be trailing after them.

As quickly as his hopes arose, it diminishes when he remembers this isn’t your scene anymore. You had passed on the baton of your father’s organization to your closest advisor on his encouragement, putting all of your focus into preparing for your wedding to Maeda-san.

Sae takes a good look at the guy. Your fiance is shorter than him, though his wide shoulders contribute to his stocky frame, giving him an imposing air. Maeda Miyaki has the uncanny ability to suck in the light of any room, and Sae scrutinizes him from head to toe, wondering what you saw in him; why you chose this man over him.

Ignoring the ache in his chest which flares up at the thought of you, Sae settles against the wall, lifting the cold glass of beer to his lips.

“... asked me what lingerie to wear.”

Despite his best efforts at trying not to eavesdrop on the group of men who were seated just a few feet away from him, his ears pricked up at the bastard’s voracious laughter.

“I told her not to worry—I’m g’na tear it all up, anyway.”

One of his lackeys, a hulking man who looks dumber than rocks, guffaws. “All that from an old woman? Why doesn't your wife just ask you?”

Miyaki snorts, shrugs and sticks a white cigarette between his teeth. “Fucking beats me. Daddy’s little girl’s scared of the big sharks.” He drags in a rich inhale, exhaling rings of smoke. “Little girl can’t even look me in the eye. Hope she isn’t this timid in bed.”

Lackey number two snickers. “I ‘eard from someone down the road—little missy had another UFC boytoy before daddy made her settle down.”

This intrigues Maeda, who scrunches his brow. Sae isn’t even pretending not to listen; he wants to know why this fuckwit has your name in his mouth and whether he should stand up and sock him in his smarmy face.

“Oh? Doesn’t surprise me. With how easy the family accepted my proposal. Had my hunch she was a cheap whore.”

One of those dimwits start to laugh, but abruptly stop when glass shatters on one of their heads, the man toppling to the floor. Maeda jerks up, looking around wildly, cigarette dropping to the sticky ground.

“What the—”

He doesn’t have the time to swear, not when another glass goes flying towards Lackey Two, taking out the meathead who crumples to the ground like a woman’s lacy thong.

“Fuck,” Miyaki whirls around, and barely has time to flinch when a fist is thrown right into his face.

One precise punch, and he falls to the ground, too.

Oliver returns back from his shit to find the dance floor swarming with men forming a ring. His stomach drops to his toes when he sees it's the exact same spot he had left Sae in just minutes ago. Pushing past the hulking bodies and ignoring the stench of alcohol burning his nose, he finds his friend engaged in a three-to-one fight, blood dripping down his bared teeth.

Swearing loudly, he breaks through the circle, hands raised and voice booming above the chants and hollers.

“Hold up! Hold up! Stop this!”

He narrowly misses a punch to the face, side stepping. A flurry of red hair sweeps past, fists pummeling on a huge man whose entire right eye was swollen.

“Oi—Sae!”

Someone tackles him to the ground, and he catches a fist to his sternum, locking the arm to the ground and kneeing the other man in the belly. The asshole howls, and he’s surprised to see a face from the news—Maeda Mikayki breathing hard over him.

“I’ll kill you both!”

More men join the fray. Someone drags Maeda off from him, and hustles him to his feet. He’s pushed past the crowd, almost stumbling on his tied laces.

“Hands off!” he snarls, but the men in black drag him by the back of his hoodie, pushing open the door.

Hard asphalt fills his mouth with blood and tar, and Oliver spits out the wad of blood, checking for any broken teeth with the tip of his tongue.

Grunts trail behind him, and he sees four more lumps ruthlessly disposed of out of the club, Sae and Maeda and his goons groaning and struggling to their feet.

Quickly, he grabs Sae by the back of his shirt, hauling him up to his feet and hurrying the asshole down a dimly lit alleyway.

“—this side!” One of the goons yells.

Aiku presses them both flat against the wall, trying hard to breathe past his bloody nose.

Once the sound of boots pounds away, he sags onto the ground, taking a moment to catch his breath.

“I could’ve ended them.”

He gapes, staring up at the fucker who got him into this mess in the first place; Sae was livid, nostrils flared, blood freely dripping onto the front of his shirt.

“They fucking spoke about my girl. No one talks about her like that.”

Aiku gets to his feet, easily towers over the other man and grips his shoulders, trying to stop himself from slamming this asshole face first into the dirty brick wall.

“You stupid ass,” he hisses, spit flying into the other man’s face. “That was Maeda, you fucking shit stain. He’s a big fish. Why’d the fuck you do this to us when we just got free from them? You could’ve destroyed all our plans!”

Equally as hot-headed, Sae pushes Aiku’s hands off him, trying to get him off his case.

“He made fun of my woman,” those stupid teal eyes were blazing with a terrifying rage. “No one talks shit about her—not even her fucking fiance.”

Oliver groans, slapping a hand to his forehead and dragging it through his scruffy hair. “Don’t tell me you tried to play a fucking white knight. You stupid piece of shit. He’s gonna bury us six feet under.”

“I’ll murk him if he tries,” Sae seethes. “I’ll wring him with my bare fists. No one—no fucking one—is allowed to speak about her that way.”

Dragging in deep breaths, Oliver finally gets his head straight.

Sure, Maeda was a top dogs’ son, but that’s all he is—a fighting legacy. He doesn’t have a team; hasn’t even stepped foot in a ring before. Besides his wealth and connections, he’s a useless stain on his father’s conscience. A man like that would never approach a seasoned underground fighter without backup.

“Just in case, I’m gonna move our operations somewhere else so he doesn’t come after us. We gotta protect the other boys, Sae.”

The red fog clouding Sae’s mind cools over and he plants his hands onto his knees, breathing in deeply.

“No need. We outnumber them and we’re free from their shackles, Oli. They can’t touch us unless they want trouble. Besides,” Sae turns grim. “They were in our territory. Maeda crosses past Odaiba. They’re not supposed to be here unless they want a good beating.”

Sae’s words made sense. Oliver inhales in deeply, wishing he hadn’t kicked his nicotine addiction to the curb. He could do with a stick—or ten. This motherfucker was gonna age him five years older in the span of a single night.

“You better hope your girl is as sweet on you as you are on her." Dragging in a heaving breath, Oliver pierces him to the spot with one, shattering glare.

"Because she’s the only thing keeping Maeda from turning our guts inside out.”

The day was dull, floating past without any sort of stimulant which would make it interesting.

Sae was no longer needed to train and he made himself useful by observing the younger boys during their drills. Correcting their stance and their forms, he hummed, wiping a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. Summer was upon them, and the days were growing warmer.

It had been a month since his fight with Rin, and his injuries were healing nicely, minus of course, that night he jumped Maeda Miyaki. But, since the spat, he hasn’t heard a peep from the Miyaki boy, and it was probably in thanks to you. There was no need for Oliver to move the operations or keep a high alert in case someone burned his gym down; everything on the other side of the fighting world barely affected them.

She must’ve managed to calm him down.

A part of him wondered what the fuck you saw in Maeda. He was pig-headed, disgusting and a fucking woman hater on top of it. Sae had half a mind to track you down and shake you till you came to your senses.

He had heard from the grapevine how that Maeda scumbag proposed to you.

Word on the street was that he had sent you three engagement rings to choose from, packaged perfectly in neat velvet boxes. If you refused his proposal, he had asked for the rings to be given back with cash on delivery to save his troubles.

How terribly unromantic.

Sae wanted to pretend that he hadn't stopped in front of the local jewelry store every time he walked out to buy groceries, wondering which type of ring you chose; which one would be perfect for you.

“Itoshi-san?”

He was shaken out of his reverie by a young, nervous looking fighter entering the gym.

“Hmm?”

“You have a visitor,” he stumbled, catching Oliver’s attention. The other man was busy looking through his records when the young fighter’s words piqued his interest.

Every man turned their eyes to the entrance, and Sae felt like someone had punched his gut.

There, standing with your hands clasped in front of you, looking like a goddess gracing unworthy mortals with her presence, you shone, blinding him.

As if drawn by a magnet, you lifted your eyes and met his own. Your gaze widened, mouth falling imperceptibly open.

Sae’s attention narrowed on you. He barely noticed the others; they melted to background noise and static when he drank in the sight of you. Someone clapped his shoulder, but he ignored them to drink you in.

The simple cotton sundress you wore highlighted your curves, and your hair was neat and sleek. You looked as healthy as he remembered, and it sent a wave of both relief and regret when your vitality was shadowed by a flicker of fear passing your wide-eyed gaze.

Oliver was the one who greeted you, breaking the sudden tension with his warm and welcoming words.

You shook your head slightly, laughing at something he said. Sae watched, hungry and unabashed as you turned on your heel, walking with Oliver into his office. His feet moved forward before he could stop them, taking him into the enclosed space.

Two pairs of eyes landed on him when he entered.

Oliver shifted from one foot to another when you nor Sae uttered a word.

Eventually, he barked a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I forgot something in the pantry. Y/N, Sae will handle any concerns you have. I’ll be back.”

He barely noticed his oldest friend walking out of the room, teal eyes latched unwaveringly on you.

When the door closed, it felt like he could breathe yet was choking at the same time.

You laced your hands together, staring at them. Sae swallowed heavily.

“Y/N—”

“Sae—”

The both of you stuttered into a fleeting silence, waiting for the other to go first. When you didn’t speak, he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled, the words burning his lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that night. I was overwhelmed, and scared and it was no excuse for what I did. Please… forgive me?”

Sae struggled to voice out his emotions, and he was sure he sounded like an idiot with his awkward words and even more exasperating countenance. But, you didn’t comment on his clumsy apology, hanging your head forward.

“I’m sorry, too,” you mumbled, and he opened his mouth, about to deflect your selflessness when you lifted your teary eyes to pin him to the spot.

Sae was striding towards you before he could stop himself, and you didn’t resist when he swept you into his arms.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he whispered, thanking whatever shitty deity above that he could hold you again. “It’s me who was at fault. Don’t feel sorry.”

“I’m engaged,” you mumbled into his shoulder, and he squeezed you tighter to him, willing the pain from your words to subside.

“I know.”

“I didn’t choose this.”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, curiosity heavy on the tip of his tongue. Your beautiful eyes were red-rimmed, and Sae believed he’s never seen you look this ethereal before.

“My father sort of forced us into this marriage,” you confessed, as if you were waiting for countless years to tell another soul this burdensome truth.

Sae nodded, dumbfounded. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ears, unable to resist running the back of his bruised knuckles down your cheek. You craned yourself further into his touch, a sticky sigh of longing slipping past your defenseless lips.

“It’s best if you don’t marry Miyaki-kun.” He was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. “He’s a piece of shit—”

“I know,” you took him by surprise, looking him right in the eye when you said, “I heard how you defended my honor in that bar. I… thank you.”

Sae grips your cheek a little harder, not wanting to hurt you, but also needing you to understand the depth of his concern for you.

“I would do it all over again. You don’t deserve anyone speaking like that about you.”

You fell silent for a single moment, pretty eyes lost in your thoughts. Sae wants to ask what’s troubling you, when the next question you exhale stuns him into a disquiet.

“Sae, I… I need to know…” You faltered and gathered your bravery to voice out this simple, yet vulnerable question:

“Do you love me?”

Your glossy eyes were pinned onto him, watching his every expression. Sae felt like someone had reached inside his gut to twist and squeeze his heart. He buys some time to answer, darting his eyes to the ground and licking his lips.

“Y/N… you know we’re from different worlds…”

Your eyes widened, the heartache behind them breaking his own heart. “It shouldn’t matter, Sae. I have always seen you as my equal,” you persisted.

Sae suddenly felt like a ton of spotlights were on him. His mind was blaring warning signs, and every fiber in his body was telling him to retreat. But, something held him firmly to the spot. Your depthless stare dug into his soul, waiting for his answer. Your cheek burns hotly in his palm.

His tongue heavily relinquished his defenses. “You won’t be happy with me… I can’t give you three diamond rings like Miyaki-kun can. I’m a lesser man compared to him.”

You grip onto his hand holding your cheek, keeping it there. “And do you think you don’t deserve to be loved because of this?” Your shock and agony seared through him as if it were his own.

“Because it’s not true. I love you, Sae. I love you so much, I don’t care about status or money. I love you so much that if you tell me to go now and marry another man, I will. But, I need to know first—do you love me?”

“I—” He lost his courage, taking one step back. The loss of your body heat against his felt like someone ripping the sun out of the fucking sky. He was cold all over, trembling from head to toe.

If he were a lesser, cowardly man, he would’ve tried to run by now.

“Itoshi Sae,” your voice kicked up an octave, and those tears broke free, spilling down your cheeks. “You’re a cruel, cruel man, you know that?”

He wants to reach out to you, wipe the tears away. His bloodless lips move, quietly asking, “Why would you say that?” filling the frigid abyss separating you two apart.

Your anguish becomes his own, searing through his chest.

“Because, you give me hope. And hope is a cruel thing if you don’t intend to make it come true.” Taking one step closer to him, your scent drowns him in waves of longing, and he wants nothing more than to inhale you until you’re one with his body.

“If you don’t love me, you—you need to say it right to my face.” His sweet, brave girl. Sae wants to kiss you so badly, he can’t stop looking at your lips, then your lovely eyes—eyes which held an unquantifiable amount of love just for him. “You have to tell me that I am completely going to be separated from you—that you don’t love me like I love you.”

There. It’s out in the open.

But, strangely, those three words coming from you don’t scare him.

It’s all the love in this world that he doesn’t deserve.

“I’m a poor man...”

“Do you love me?” Your breathing hitched, tears leaking past the corners of your eyes. Your heart felt like it could tear in two from the look of pure despair on his face. “Please, Sae… please tell me if I am truly alone in this.”

For a split second, neither of you spoke. The air was suppressed with tension; the entire office feeling too hot and yet cold.

The cracks of your disbelief melted into begrudging acceptance. Sae could count the stars dying in your eyes—how your hopes in him were diminishing as the embers of your devotion were flickered out by his perceived unreciprocated feelings.

He reached out for you, grazing the back of your hand with his fingers. Your skin was cold to the touch, your gaze growing even more colder.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, hanging your head forward. You took one step away from him. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Your voice broke on the last word, and Sae stood, rooted to the spot. Watching you leave him for the second time.

Before he could overthink it, he blurted the first thing that came into his mind.

“I’m an orphan.” The weight of the world crushes his shoulders. He almost sobbed, as if that truth alone was enough to dissuade your love.

“I ran away when I was eleven and left my brother behind. I pushed him away because I was so embarrassed of how I couldn’t take care of him—how much he starved under my care. I couldn’t protect him. I was useless. I don’t have an education. I’ve never… I’ve never lived in one place long enough to call it home. I am a coward. I—” his voice broke, and tore his gaze towards the ground before raising his eyes once more to meet yours, the anguish in those teal eyes breaking your heart. “I’m vile. I’ve hurt other men. I’ve hurt my own brother—”

“I don’t care!”

You were fervent when you rushed towards him, standing chest-to-chest with a wounded man hellbent on pushing away everything good in his life.

None of it mattered to you. Itoshi Sae was yours the second he entered your life and you wanted him forever.

“You did the best you could with what you had, Sae. You were a child.” You had one hand on his arm, encouraging him to look at you—to witness your sincerity and vulnerability. “You were forced into this life and no one told you otherwise. You were exploited when you should’ve been protected. You don’t have to do everything on your own—you don’t have to be alone. I’m here. If you can’t protect Rin, I will help you protect him. If you feel afraid, I will be there to tell you it’s all okay. I’m here, Sae. You’re not alone anymore.”

You faltered in your stance, heart on your sleeve and hope on your tongue when you asked him again, in a soft voice.

“So, please. Don’t keep me in the dark anymore. Don’t push me away.”

Sae could only stare at you with sick yearning in those beautiful teal eyes. You tasted his surrender, the cracks in his facade. Your touch on his cheek nearly made him moan in longing.

Your breathy whisper hit him like the force of a thousand and one bricks—the question no more terrifying to him than a luminous ray of moonlight breaking across a serene lake. Finally opening his eyes to his own truth.

“Sae.” Oh, how sweet it was to hear his name on your lips. His brimming teal eyes latched onto those plush, flesh-toned pillows, and then back again into your clear, determined and beautiful eyes.

As if a huge weight was hurtling down his shoulders, he met you in the middle, gripping your face in his unyielding grip.

He doubled forward, as if someone had punched him in the gut. You caught him, meeting his surrender halfway.

And after twenty over years of repressing his heart, the dam finally broke.

“I love you.”

He wept. “I love you with every fucking beat of my heart. From the moment you came into my life, looking so—so damn beautiful even in a fucking ramen shop, when you read my favorite book out to me. I’ve… I’ve never known—” he shuddered as if admitting his deepest secret. His wet, brilliant aquamarine eyes seemed to devour yours with unabashed yearning, love and fear.

“I’ve never known a home until I met you.”

Sae was sobbing, and so were you; huge relieved heaves which echoed around this dreary office. Your arms were an anchor around his taller frame, and you held him with such tenderness, Sae was sure he would disintegrate from such gentleness.

You carded your fingers through his hair, kissing his neck, his collarbone, his cheek. Finally, you reached his lips, and Sae poured his entire longing into that single kiss, afraid that if he opened his eyes, you would disappear.

But, you never let him go. Your fingers twined his hair, holding him tight to you. Your kisses taste like heaven reincarnated, and Sae wondered how he went this long without it.

The slot of your plush lips in between his yielded to a few inches apart, close enough that he could still breathe you in, but enough of a distance for a single, silvery strand of spit to connect both your lips together.

Sae broke it by pressing another kiss to your waiting mouth, melting into your embrace. Your touch was the sweetest balm, healing and restoring him after an eternity of endless horrors.

“You were right,” he mumbled in a thick voice, hiding his face in your shoulder like a terrified boy unable to face the truth. “You were right about everything. How heartless I am. I’m a monster—”

“Ssh,” you touched your forehead to his and he wished he could nuzzle in your warmth for an eternity. “You’re not a monster, Sae. You don’t have to be forced in this life anymore. We can make it a better one—together.”

Of all the love stories and sweet words he had devoured in his life, nothing could compare to the notion of ‘together’ with you.

He would’ve pressed you to the desk and took you there and then, but someone clearing their throat by the doorway gave you both pause.

Oliver, red in the face, shot an apologetic smile. “Um… before you two get at it… I left my notebook here.” He scurried to grab it, whispering a not-so-quiet “nice, Sae!” at his best friend and running away before the other man could club him on the head.

His mood untouched by Oliver’s interruption, Sae picked up your left hand, studying the obnoxious diamond ring adorning your finger. “What kind of fucking asshole sends a woman three pops and not even know what she likes?” He tsked, and your heart skipped a beat when he tugged the offensive band off.

You wanted to scold him, but found yourself grinning widely instead. “Sae—”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he promised, tossing that fuckwit’s band onto the desk. “And I’ll work my ass off to give you a home, baby—you know I will.”

“And my dad?” You hummed, cupping his face in your hands, smiling softly and beautifully. “What will you say to him?”

Sae was not a man for flowery words—or even any expressive words at all. But, he found them flowing effortlessly when it came to you, his entire heart offered to the woman who had put her name on it from the very first day.

“I’ll tell him that I fell in love with his daughter and I want to marry her right this instant,” he twined his arms around your waist, drunk off your giddy grin. “And I’ll tell him that I don’t have much money, but I have grit, and I can make a home for her—for our family.”

More tears clouded your eyes. “Family?”

He nodded, smiling softly. “You, me and a little squirt with my nose and your pretty eyes. Sounds perfect, hmm?”

The reality was scary; real life was filled with obstacles and challenges. But, with Sae beside you, you found that you could weather through any storm coming your way because he was the one meant to do it.

You were his home and his dream.

He didn’t have to save love stories from the bin anymore—save his happy ending—because it was right here in his arms.

Boy meets girl, they fall in love; they lose one another, and boy discovers he can’t live without the girl for another second.

Happy endings never followed a straight line; it ebbed and flowed like a river. But, no matter the twists and turns, fate would always find a way to bring what was meant to be back together again.

And so, the boy and girl lived happily, imperfectly ever after.

Forever.

THE END.

a/n. omggg i can't believe this is over frrrr 😭 when i started this series, i was honestly thinking of how fucked up it would be for rin and sae to actually fight each other (considering how they're always so close to beating each other up in canon hhshhd) and this idea kinda just went .... EVERYWHERE. i honestly enjoyed writing sae in this (peep the bridgerton ref at the end 👀) and im stoked to see what other ideas i can come up for him in the future because he's just SO fun to write for.

anyway, i hope you loved this little mini series, and don't forget to reblog and share your feedback as it keeps my little heart v happy and the creative juices going <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#🦢 writes #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae x you #sae x reader #blue lock #sae smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #series: sucker punch #🥊 — bllk ufc verse

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lalunanymph · 5 months ago

Text

sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, fights, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, mentions of medication, sae's repressed emotions™, rin is down bad for his gf, arranged marriages (not between reader and sae ouch), heavy angst

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

✯ chapter 4

The day of the fight brought a sleet of rain which caused a huge traffic backlog in Harajuku for close to an hour.

Sae arrived at the facility, soaking wet and scowling. His other teammates who were present in support of this momentous fight cheered the second he entered the room. Oliver was the one to shoo them away and get his starfighter ready for the night.

Suiting up his gloves and giving his shoulders a quick rub, Aiku flashed him a smile that was all teeth. “You ready, Sae?”

His bored scowl was the answer Oliver needed.

“Let’s crush this.”

Strangely, Sae’s heart was pounding behind his ribs. He had never felt this anxious for a fight, though his neutral expression gave nothing away as he strode over to the exit doors. On the other side of the door, he could physically taste the energy of the crowd; zinging on his tongue like sour lime, curdling his stomach and tantalising his bloodlust at the same time. Their chants, stomps, yells and thirst for violence fuelled him, that he almost forgot who he was facing.

Until they announced his little brother’s name.

“On the left side of the ring, standing at 6’2 with a wicked hook that will unlock anyone’s jaw—Blue Lock’s Itoshi Rin!”

The announcer dragged Rin’s name, and his brother’s flashing teal eyes were the first thing to captivate the crowd through the screen. The crowd cheered and jeered, depending on who they supported. A majority of them were neutral to Rin; they had only heard about his prowess but hadn’t seen it in the flesh yet.

“On my right, a 5 '11 machine with more hits than we can count—the one, the only—the Prodigy—U20’s Itoshi Sae!”

A similar pair of flashing teal eyes appeared on the screen. The crowd responded like a nest of snakes, writhing and hungry for two preys to feast on each other. Their murmurs of disbelief and awe were not hard to decipher.

Wait, they’re both brothers?

No fucking way.

Does this mean they have to kill each other?

Is this even legal?!

Sae could picture each of their curious, blank faces looking out at the scene before them; at two brothers who were slated to fight till the other was injured or dead.

He couldn’t rethink his decision; the bell had already rung.

Rin lunged at him first. Sae deflected, falling back, assessing his brother’s weakness. An opening he could dive into, or a faltering stance. Anything to make this fight quick.

A fast blur of fists rained around both of them. Sae got Rin in the stomach and he got his older brother right in the nose. Blood was pouring into his panting mouth, tasting of tangy grimness. Using a two step method perfected by The Prodigy himself, Rin executed a move that had his brother reeling. The hours each of them spent watching the replays of the other’s fights were put to the ultimate test.

There was also the intimate knowledge of their personalities. Sae knew how easily frustrated Rin could get. And Rin was familiar with how much his brother loved control.

A sweeping kick caught Sae off guard, his right knee faltering. Rin used the opportunity to drive his knee into his brother’s sternum, knocking him back a few steps.

The crowd moved like a wave. They booed and gasped, some cheered while others muttered behind their palms. The energy was infectious. Sae moved like a caged tiger prowling around the edges, ready to strike.

He caught Rin’s upper cheek with a flat blow, knocking his brother’s head back. Despite the younger Itoshi being the taller one, his height was at a disadvantage when Sae targeted his middle trunk. With his upper body compromised and lower one open to strikes, Sae jumped in to land his fists right onto Rin’s stomach over and over again. Till he fell to the ground; until blood coated his brother’s pale throat.

Someone in the crowd screamed. The roar that came after that was deafening.

Blurry teal eyes latched onto his older brother’s one and for a split second, Sae wasn’t in the ring with Rin anymore. They were both in a field, playing soccer together. The sun was shining hotly on the back of their necks and their laughter echoed through the trees and grass. Those same teal eyes were on a smaller, innocent face, shining with love and open admiration for his nii-chan. Sae wished they both had never left that field.

“Kill him!”

Their screams shattered the image of his younger brother in his mind, replacing it with the wounded, half-battered man before him.

Rin was fighting against unconsciousness, weakly driving his strikes into his brother’s chest. Sae felt like his chest would cave in from the blows, but he held on. He was going to win.

Then, some otherworldly force compelled him to raise his head.

Right in front of him, tears streaming down her face, was a dark-haired woman clutching her palms to her chest. It reminded him of the same motion you did the night Sae broke your heart.

Her sobs were both silent and loud with the piercing sounds of the crowd drowning her out. But, her eyes never left Rin. As if pulled by coincidence, she flitted her gaze to him. Sae almost crumpled at the look in her eyes.

Please, they seemed to scream. Please don’t hurt him.

Rin clutched onto his brother’s shoulders, trying to shake him off. Sae held on stubbornly.

She only cares for me, that’s why she begged me to drop out from the fight.

What if you were here, too? Would you cry for him the way Rin’s girlfriend was crying for him?

Would you openly and desperately beg his opponent with your wet eyes not to hurt him?

No, no… focus, Itoshi!

Sae snarled, landing one meaty punch into his brother’s face. Rin retaliated with a strike into his abdomen.

It’s not as if you would understand—you have no one you care for.

Sae felt her stare burn into his face. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of his entire life.

During his moment of weakness, Rin’s strike knocked his head back and he went tumbling backwards.

Gaining the upper hand, Rin straddled his brother’s lap, like they used to do when they were play-fighting as children. His strikes were not half-hearted or childish as before. They held weight, thundering echoes of his anger towards the older boy who left him behind like he didn’t mean anything.

Sae shielded his face, though it was nothing compared to the pure anger behind Rin’s pummeling.

The two brothers clobbered at each other for minutes, growing wearier and sustaining more injuries. In a fit of desperation, Sae grunted and used his elbow to drive it into Rin’s throat.

An alarm blared. Earning him a foul.

Eyes watering and coughing like a chainsmoker, Rin bared his teeth, the hard padding of his glove battering his brother’s cheek in revenge.

Blood coated his teeth, tasting of grim defeat. Above him, Rin’s broad shoulders blocked out the light of the ring, drenching him in darkness.

Sae wanted to close his eyes and never wake up again.

“Give up, nii-chan.”

Rin’s harsh whisper was followed by a box in his ears. Sae’s head spun around as if he was in a washing machine. However, he could never concede to his otouto’s wishes. His pride would never let him.

A clumsy strike right into Rin’s parted mouth caused a satisfying crunch to reverberate across the ring. Rin cursed and was knocked onto his sides, both brothers springing up onto their feet, unable to stay down.

The two of them were now heavily injured and Sae couldn’t breathe without the feeling of knives dragging through his lungs. Rin was clutching his chest, drawing in ragged breaths and wincing at every one of them.

They grasped at each other’s shoulders for the final showdown, a brutal boast of each other’s raw strength. Sae locked his muscles and core in place, praying that Rin would accept defeat so he wouldn’t have to hurt his brother anymore.

Nii-chan, you’re so strong and fast! Rin’s child-like laughter rang in his head. When I grow up, I want to be just like you.

Nimbly, Sae untucked his arm, the force of his elbow in Rin’s stomach knocking him to the ground. One more strike across his younger brother’s face and the lights went out.

Rin stumbled backwards, swaying on his feet. Fear sparked through Sae’s chest, dark and primal. If Rin managed to overcome that shot, there was no telling what he needed to do to put his brother temporarily onto the ground. One split second of agony danced across for an eternity.

Then, Rin folded onto his knees, collapsing to the ground. The crowd went berserk, screaming and chanting his name. Sae tuned them all out, taking one wobbly step towards his younger brother. Rin’s face was pale, the blood flecking his chin standing out like a child’s clumsy red painting.

A trilling voice announced his name as the winner, but all Sae heard was static. Someone thumped his back and tried to get him to stand so he could accept the winning title but Sae refused to get back onto his feet.

He stared at his brother, trailing one swollen eye onto the lacerations he left behind.

Realising he was protesting the fight and refusing to accept his winning title, the organisers had no choice but to end it here and now before the crowd could get testy at the lack of the drama they were promised; demanding for a refund. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae noticed his blown up expression on the screen, grim and sober.

A far cry from a man who was supposed to act like he won the fight of his life.

They had made him hurt his only brother.

Medics arrived on the scene, lifting his unconscious brother onto a stretcher. They helped him off the ring, despite his body protesting from every move.

Once in the safe cocoon of the medical tent, he switched—needing to make sure his brother was still breathing. With his blurry attention trailed on Rin’s limp body, Sae croaked hoarsely to the closest nurse, “Make sure he’s safe.”

She gave him a reassuring smile, nodding. “We will do our best, Sae-san. You should rest.”

The second those trusting words left her lips, Sae fell into a heap onto the hard bed and closed his eyes.

Someone called his name, but he was already out cold.

The next morning, he woke up in a hospital.

Sae blinked, and groggily turned his head to the side, surveying this new space. It was an upscale suite, one of the better ones Oliver had gotten him. Presumably funded by your priceless investment.

His entire suite was empty, and there was no one waiting for him to gain consciousness.

He had no idea how long he spent staring at the ceiling. The sunlight outside his window shifted higher, the shadows crawling across the beige panels. After a few minutes of silence, the door slid open.

A kindly looking nurse stepped in, her wrinkles deepened by her sympathetic smile. “You’re finally awake, Sae-san. Welcome back.”

“How long was I out?” he cringed at the roughness in his voice. The nurse tutted and fixed him a glass of water with a straw. She pressed a button to elevate half of his bed, giving him enough height to sip on his water safely.

“About 12 hours. We had to give you some stitches and fix your fractured ribs. Your otouto has a hard hit.”

Sae took a deeper breath, wincing at the sting in his sides. “Hmm.” Surveying the room with a bored gaze, he sighed. “When can I go home?”

“Impatient to see the world, huh?” the nurse joked. “Well, if you can be good for us and finish your medication, we can release you tomorrow itself.”

She abandoned Sae to his thoughts, the door left open by a crack.

A flurry of movement caught his eye, and Sae’s attention was taken by a young woman who rushed through the hallway. His position in the suite gave him a prime view of the pure panic on her expression. Something about her was familiar.

“... Itoshi Rin… where is he?”

Her voice carried over past his little voyeuristic crack, and he watched, mute with conflicting emotions as his brother’s girlfriend gave a teary nod, dashing towards the direction the nurse pointed her to. Straight to his injured brother.

The quiet in his suite seemed exacerbated.

Sae exhaled, the muted pain in his ribs kicking up a notch. It was accompanied by a deadened hum where his heart used to beat valiantly. The strange emptiness in him yawned wider, waiting to clamp him between its jaws.

Would you have rushed towards his room with tears in your eyes like she did?

Sae stared at the ceiling, numb and silent.

He guessed he would never know the answer to that.

An hour later, the door slid open again. This time, it was Aiku who walked in, his expression pinched and worried.

“Oi, fuckhead. Good to see you’re still alive.”

Sae couldn’t stop a sliver of happiness blooming in his chest at the sight of his oldest friend. Oliver sauntered to the chair beside his bed, pulling his leather jacket tighter across his broad chest. “Nearly gave us all a heart attack with your little fainting spell. You okay?”

“Yeah,” he rasped in a low tone. “Can’t wait to leave.”

“Yeah. You and I both.”

“Is Rin…?” Sae hesitated for a split second. Oliver’s dual-toned eyes landed on him struggling to articulate. “Is he okay?”

Oliver’s expression softened. “Yeah. He’s in a room down the hall. Thankfully, nothing’s broken though he suffered a mild concussion. Both of you have thick skulls.”

Sae mustered a limp twitch of his lips. “And our money?”

At the mention of the financial compensation U20 would get after this historic fight, Oliver quietened.

“Oi.”

Prompted by Sae’s bored frustration, he sighed. “I’ll tell you tomorrow when you’re better.” He stood up before the other man could voice out his displeasure. “You shouldn’t be stressing too much about the money. Just rest well.”

Sae held his tongue from an insult when Oliver brushed him aside. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was to be kept in the dark from results he worked hard to achieve. But, he had learned to trust Oliver over the years; the reality probably had nothing much to do with him, anyway.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he ingested the drowsy medication and nodded off into another long sleep.

The noise of twenty over boys yelling his name would never get old to Sae.

As soon as he entered the gym, limping slightly from his injuries, they exploded in expressive thanks and well-wishes, stars in their eyes at the sight of such a legendary fighter. Sae let them swarm towards him, giving his hand for them to shake and nodding at every gesture of gratitude.

“C’mon guys, let’s give him some space to breathe,” Oliver chided, and the boys reluctantly let them both retreat into their private office.

Inside, the AC was pleasantly cooling, and Sae sat on the small sofa by the door, wincing at his injuries.

“What I’d tell’ya? The boys are tossing in their names for the next big match” Oliver mumbled proudly. “They idolise you, Sae.” Those words would’ve once made him secretly elated. Now, they don’t hold much meaning.

Ever since the fight with Rin, Sae felt like his senses were dipped in cotton, clogging his ears and mind to any sort of stimulant from his old life which would’ve once given him meaning.

He went quiet, his eyes trailing to a modest bouquet on Oliver’s desk.

“Didn’t know your side pieces gave you flowers,” Sae stated bluntly, and if anyone would listen in closely, they could detect a note of bitterness in his tone. “Or, is one of them getting real desperate for you to settle down with her?”

Clocking his attention onto the flowers, Oliver snorted. “Oh, shit. Yeah. Those aren’t for me.” Sae never expected him to utter his next words. “It’s for you.”

Gingerly, he picked up the simple bouquet, fingering a small card attached to the base. Sae unfurled it, his heartbeat kicking up a notch when he read through the simple letter.

Dear Sae,

I have paid off the remaining investments to Oliver and gave 30% more than was stipulated. I hope you can finally live the life you deserve—one with no more fighting, food in your belly, and happiness. Good luck in your future efforts. I will always root for you.

— Y/N

Sae turned the card around, the written words bleeding into his mind.

“Aiku… how much did Y/N give us?” He cut right into the heart of the matter, and Oliver made a sound of surprise in the back of his throat.

“Eh, how’d you know she paid us?” Sae pinned him with a glacial stare that had the other man scrambling to answer. “¥42,665,900. Enough to—”

“Buy us out from the next season,” he breathed.

“Yes,” Oliver mumbled. “She’s been a wonderful investor. I think you really got us a good deal, Sae. I’m glad you managed to sway her decision.”

But, Sae didn’t hear him. His thoughts were on a loop, going from ‘she saved my life’ to ‘I need to speak to her’ over and over again till he felt like he could implode.

“When did she give this bouquet?” His voice was harsh and hoarser.

Oliver straightened. “Yesterday. When you were still in the hospital. Though I think she sent her assistant to give it to me. I thought it was just from one of your admirers.”

Sae’s quiet stretched out for what seemed like hours. Oliver watched, fixated, as his aquamarine eyes broke into wonder, regret, admiration and deep sorrow. Whatever was going on in Sae’s mind would be a mystery even to his close friend; that was how the oldest Itoshi brother worked. You would never know what was under the surface until it came to light.

And Oliver was incredibly confused when Sae’s next words breached through the usual iciness of his demeanour.

“I need to find her,” his feverish voice broke through the loaded silence with the weight of a bullet. Sae scrambled to his feet, ignoring his fractured rib to fix his wide eyes on an unmoving Aiku. “Need to apologise. Flowers. I think she loves flowers, I need—she saved me. She fucking saved me, Aiku.”

“What?” Oliver stood up, too, his expression incredulous. “Sae, what do you mean?”

“She saved me,” he muttered, a man on a mission as he scrambled for a piece of paper and pen to write down his request at the florist. “She bought our next year out for me. I need to go back to her. I need her. I need…” he trailed off, sounding like a lunatic who was hinging on his last thread of sanity.

That thread was to find you again so he could apologise; so he could crawl back to you and bask in your kindness and love once more. Sae loved you. He needed you more than you ever needed him. Sae loved you.

“Sae, wait—”

“Fuck—the florist down the street is closed today.”

“Itoshi—”

“Maybe Dinya’s is open—”

“Sae, stop.”

This call of his name wasn’t done in exasperation. Aiku sounded like he was about to recount someone’s obituary to him. Sae froze in his uncharacteristically frenzied panic, waiting for his friend to break the ice.

Unable to look him in the eye, Oliver hesitantly plucked a newspaper scrap from his stack and passed it to the underground fighter. Without a second thought, Sae grabbed it, quickly drinking in the headline.

The chambers in his heart suddenly constricted. Pain flooded through him, potent and poisonous, rooting him to the spot. His shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

He couldn’t stop scrawling his desperate teal gaze over and over the same headline, despite how its contents and devastating meaning never changed.

A legacy made! 1978’s League of Underground Fighting Champion’s daughter, L/N Y/N, is set to marry his old rival’s son.

The piece of paper crumpled in his fist. Sae’s unflinching gaze never left the ground, his pupils pinpricks.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver finally said, breaking the fractured silence. “I didn’t know you two were close… I thought you were just on casual terms with her. I didn’t know you loved her or else… I would’ve said something. But… but, she’s engaged, Sae.”

It couldn’t be. Don’t tell me it’s too late to win her back.

A million questions raced through his mind:

Were you engaged before you two met? Who was this man you were about to marry? Why didn’t you break this news to him? Were you happy? Did you want this?

Did he even mean anything to you in the first place?

His injuries and heartbreak were catching up to him, rendering him dizzy and mute with disbelief.

He had to leave; had to make it right by you.

Whatever Aiku expected him to do, it wasn’t this.

Without another word, Sae raced out of the gym and into his car, his heart in his throat. Oliver chased after him, calling out his name, but he didn’t turn around and respond.

The idea of you belonging to another man, wrapped in his arms, bearing his children, growing old with someone other than him…

He felt like he could throw up. Nausea skirted around the edges of his consciousness and he was sweating bullets.

A legacy made.

What is legacy compared to history? You both knew each other inside and out; Sae and you were a perfect fit. And he was sorry he never told you this on the day that he lost you.

You would be in your office today, and as he rushed down the familiar hallways he used to frequent when you were still his, Sae couldn’t help the lump forming in the back of his throat. He hadn’t meant the words he threw in your face. He was scared and angry and alone. Even if you wouldn’t see him again—and honestly, he understood why you wouldn’t—he had to let you know how sorry he was. If he could fix what was already broken.

He would pour molten golden repentance in between the cracks he caused on your surface, instilling your good faith back in him like how that same liquid made smashed cups and bowls whole and beautiful again. Sae would do it all for you.

“Sir—!”

He breezed past your wide-eyed assistant, going straight for your door.

“Y/N,” he knocked on the wooden surface urgently. “It’s me. Sae. Please open up. I need to tell you something.”

There was no answer.

“I’m sorry Itoshi-san, but you can’t come in here anymore,” the red-faced older woman tried to argue, positioning herself beside him like an annoying mosquito that wouldn’t stop buzzing in his ear. “Your access has been revoked. You have—”

“Shut up,” he snarled, startling both herself and him. He didn't have time to think through his horrendous manners, going back to pounding on your door, the hollowing desperation growing with every second of your stretched silence.

“Y/N. I’m sorry,” he pressed his face to the wood, hoping his muffled voice would reach your end. “I’m sorry I said those things to you. I was… I was scared. I’m sorry. Can we please talk—?”

A lunatic. People would talk and call him a goddamn lunatic. But, Sae had no shred of logic left in him. For the first time in his life, he let his heart win over—and what his heart wanted was you.

“Y/N—”

Two strong pairs of arms hauled him from your door, your pesky secretary lingering fearfully by the doorway. Outside, a group of workers were gathered, watching the spectacle unfold. Humiliation should’ve been curdling down his spine, but Sae was helpless to not let it consume him. Sounds of phone calls and beeps went unanswered, the air saturated with his hoarse cries.

“Y/N! Just let me explain myself—”

The burly guards jerked him back when he tried to lunge towards your door, nearly popping his arm sockets out. His cracked rib protested and he cried out in pain.

“Careful!” your secretary cried in her high, reedy voice. “Miss Y/N said he’s injured after his fight—don’t hurt him!”

If he was in his right mind, Sae would seethe at your unfairness. How you wanted to not hurt him when you were doing the very thing that was breaking his heart.

But, his rationale was a million miles away, and he was stuck on a desperate loop of trying not to break down and wail for you. Aiku would have a fit if he saw him like this. His teammates would think he had lost his mind.

They threw him out into the street unceremoniously. Sae wrapped one arm around his torso and struggled to get back onto his feet, his instinct to never stay down pushing him up to try again.

He took one step forward, and the door to your office entrance slammed shut. People were stopping to stare, muttering behind their palms when they noticed a dishevelled man with his shirt untucked, shaking from head to toe.

He had no idea why he stood in front of the closed door, staring at his own reflection gazing hauntedly back at him. Eventually, something snapped in him, and Sae turned on his heel, racing as fast as his feet could take him back to his car. It was parked recklessly and he had gotten a ticket tacked to his window, the fucking cherry on top of this vile day.

It took all of his strength not to ram his car into a pole or drive off like a hellion. He took a few breaths, hoping no one would force him out of this yellow box and back to the road; praying for a moment of silence. Mourning for the blooming love he had destroyed with his bare hands and venomous words.

Sae didn’t know what was worse.

Finding out that you had moved on quickly without him… or, realising he never meant anything to you in the first place.

He couldn’t find an answer right here or now.

So, he picked up the remnants of his dignity and composure and drove off before your gossiping employees could pick apart the fact that he shamelessly waited right in front of your door for minutes on end; hoping it would open.

It was enough humiliation and heartbreak for the day.

#🦢 writes #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae x you #sae x reader #blue lock #sae smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #series: sucker punch #🥊 — bllk ufc verse

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lalunanymph · 2 years ago

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𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘

syp — you wait for rin to come home and no matter what, he always does.

𖨆♡𖨆 itoshi rin x fem!reader

ೃ⁀➷ mentions of injury, blood, bruises, broken bones, suggestive content, slight nipple play, mentions of babies, angst, mentions of death, emotional piece, slight character study, rin n reader are in their mid 20s

ೃ⁀➷ back on my ufc-verse brainrot n i couldn't get this out of my head ugh i just want soft!rin to be all over me :///

The clock struck two in the morning and he still wasn't home yet.

The beds of your nails were chewed down to translucent skin catching on the edge of his too large black t-shirt, and your palms were clammy and cold.

It wasn't like you were afraid.

Rin could hold himself up well from any perceived threat.

Rather, it was your own agitated thoughts which kept you in a loop somewhere between mounting panic and forced tranquility.

A listless quality befalls you when you turn your eyes towards the ticking clock with the words 'Y/N's kitchen' engraved across its porcelain face. Rin had got you that little trinket from an antique store beside his old fight ring as an apology for coming home yet again with another split lip and busted eye.

You didn’t comment on the shake in his fingers or the clandestine winces he made behind your back. Not wanting to ruin his gift. The next day, he had taken you to a friend of his tattoo artist and got it engraved with your name.

A little memory of me in our home, he had spoken softly, handing you the precious object.

Like his presence did not perforate every inch of this tiny apartment you shared with him.

From the rickety table holding his favourite horror novels and your fiction paperbacks to the lopsided console which housed spotted pictures of the both of you—everywhere you turned to look, the comforting presence of him blanketed over your erratic heartbeat like dew drops on a rain-soaked field.

Rin's presence reminded you of the smell of petrichor; faint memories of carefree days long gone. Replaced by bills crammed in your letterbox every tail end of the month, and texts from your workplace every Sunday night. He was a sliver of comfort in your dreary, fixed life, and you were sure that no matter how many days you spent roaming the earth, you would not find a hearth as comfortable as the ones his strong arms offered.

They did say home was where the heart is and yours was firmly with Rin.

You wanted him. In his entirety.

For better or for worse.

The clock chimed and the door turned.

His tired gaze appraised you, taking in your throat lightly bobbing with a hard swallow. The circles under his teal eyes were faint but noticeable, enrapturing you to drink him in. There was a bruise forming on his right jaw, and his bandaged hands were fists by his side. A film of quiet weariness hung over him, which meant he had won this evening’s fight.

He stood by the doorway, fettered to the spot from his unspoken greeting, and the worry brimming in your eyes. There was a faint relapse of composure in the form of those pretty irises faltering for a split second, and you took it as your cue to stand. To welcome him home.

"Rin."

"You're not asleep yet?"

How could he ask such a question with such callous disregard? Did he truly believed you could nod off without knowing if he was safe? If he was still alive?

Your boyfriend sensed more than understood that he had offended you. The slight downturn of your lips and the quiver in your clenched fingers spoke as much. His own fists were tightening, anticipating another fight—this one more lethal than the last one he was in. Rin was sure that if he failed to win this, it would mean more than a loss of his ego.

He would lose you.

And Rin could never afford to lose you.

"Y/N, I—"

His words are lost in your hair when you rush into his embrace, a flurry of mumbling and hitched sobs.

The serrated edge of white-hot bloodlust he held onto for the whole night ebbs out of him like a dark poison receding from his veins. He shuddered, wrapping his sturdier arms around you. He detected a hint of strawberry shampoo from your hair, and picked up on a weak waft of his cologne coming from the collar of his old sleep shirt you were wrapped in.

Rin lets the heady warmth of your body seep into his own, and he breathed you in deeper; letting your sweetness heal his sin. The bloodstains on his shirt and his bruised knuckles could never compare to how much of a balm your touch was for him.

He closed the door, locking it firmly shut and lifted you into his aching arms. Your legs tangled around his waist obediently, and he doesn't lift his head from the crook of your neck—knowing the path from door to room to hallway to bathroom like it was imprinted with permanent ink on the back of his closed eyelids.

You helped him shrug off his jacket and peel his sticky black compression shirt off his sore frame. His pants were off next, falling into a heap beside the lump of violence-stained clothes. Your gaze, always full of warmth, was hollow and scared; quick to assess the injuries on his tall frame, and the furrow digging the curve of your lips deepens, dragging the edges down.

Rin wanted you to forget he looked like this; that he had let himself get hurt when he promised you hours ago he wouldn't.

"It's my fault—" he started to say, but you cut him off with a grin as fragile as glass.

"It's not as bad as last time. Don’t worry.”

He leaned down to kiss you before your memories could get swept up in a current of bloody noses and dislocated joints. You taste the blood on his tongue, the hot breath of desperation moulding around your lips with sure, deep caresses.

You let him drive you back into a cool wall, the contrast of his hot palms on your hips also driving you to the edge of insanity. You opened your mouth hesitantly, and he brushed aside any existing shyness when he coaxed your tongue to twine with his.

Rin kissed you languidly for another few more seconds, keeping you focused on his presence and not the potential of his absence. It wasn't until strings of spit were connecting both your chins and the throbbing between your legs was demanding for a reprieve that he gently broke it off.

His forehead was a tacky, warm press on yours, and your fingers drifted closer to his torso, brushing the aching muscles with feather light touches. Rin didn't push you away, or tell you stop—letting you feel him. Letting you commit him back to your safe haven.

You started with the bruises on his sternum, some fresh, others faded. He hissed when you applied more pressure, but barely made a move to stop you. Emboldened, you let your touch drag up his solid pecs, pausing to briefly brush your thumbs across his rock hard nipples.

Rin's moan catches somewhere between a groan and a curse when you start to tug the rosy buds gently, rolling them in between your fingers. He was powerless to evade your hold, especially not when you focused your attention back onto his obliques. Tracing the dip of his abs, you let your attention consume every rise and valley of his body; moulding the hills and plains with your bare fingertips until he shuddered and braced two palms firmly on the wall behind you.

"I love you."

Rin blinked, the ache spreading across his chest second to the feel of the heel of your palm gently massaging a large bruise across his right hip. He drowned himself in the wondrous hue of your eyes that were shaded with so much love, Rin thought he could've went blind from such ardour.

"I love you, too."

He caught your hands before they could wander down further, lips brushing soft kisses on each pulse point three times—once for luck, twice for love and thrice for reassurance. Rin smirked inwardly when he felt your heart rate kick up a notch, and he continued to nuzzle your palms with more reverent kisses.

The best underground fighter in Japan knows the last thing he should do is make promises when he couldn't even guarantee if he would come back alive from the Blue Lock arena every time he was summoned for a fight.

But, he find that he wants to. It burns in the back of his throat, nearly dousing him in impulsive laughter to take you into his arms and whisk you away from this hell city. Away from the men who would threaten to rip you both apart if he gave up this life of bloodied fists and broken teeth.

Promises are nothing but broken wishes.

But, if he did make one, it would sound something like this:

I promise I will make you happy, baby. No more tears, no more deliberation, no more uncertainty. Just pure fucking happiness. I'll give you a home (not a shoddy apartment, a real real home), and we'll finally have a family. Two kids. Maybe three. I could do four if you're up for it. I'll pursue my degree and you can finally go back to school to finish yours. We won't have to worry about putting food on the table. We don't have to worry about late night emergency calls. It'll be you and me, together. Us and the life we built. Until the very end, baby.

He doesn't say those words; lets them implode and immolate in the recesses of his chest. He wished his hands could convey the words; that his touch could write his most desperate wishes across the soft curves of your hips and thighs.

Your lips painted whispers of devotion across his collarbone and he yearns to hear every single one of them over and over again until his life inevitably ends.

"I'm so glad you're home, Rin."

And just like that, his inner world erupts in sparks of ecstasy. He doesn't reply—fears that if he does, his voice would tremble and break—but he does close his eyes for a few seconds to let the implications of your words sink in.

Home.

Here, with him.

Rin doesn't want to make a promise he can't keep, so he settles for a simple assurance: to always come home to you no matter what, because home wasn't four walls and a roof over its head.

Home was the woman before him, gently sponging his cuts with antiseptic with her teeth caught over her lower lip. Whose expression brightened minutely the moment she realised he was starting intently at her. So full of love and ready acceptance.

You and your laughter, your love your soul.

You in its complete, heavenly entirety.

Home was you.

#itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #bllk #itoshi rin #itoshi rin angst #rin angst #blue lock angst #bllk angst #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #🦢 writes #🥊—bllk ufc verse

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lalunanymph · 2 years ago

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⌦ bloodhound

⌖ shidou ryusei x fem!reader

tw. violence, blood, petnames, PDA bc shidou is a hellion like that, mentions of drugs, mentions of illegal activity, barely edited bc this was written in like half an hour DFGHJK

⌁ this is for you bby @katasstrophy mwah <33 ur tag gt me thinking many, many thoughts......

"I'm going to squash you like a bug under my toe."

Ryusei's taunts aren't anything new in the ring, but this close, you swore you could smell the bloodlust coming from him.

His bare abs flex and pulse under the clinical fluorescent light as he circles his latest opponent (victim, really), looking for the right moment to strike; the right chink in the armour to devour them whole.

Keeping up with his theme of scaring off every man before they had a chance to take a swipe at him, he plasters on a manic grin, one which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

In the ring, Shidou Ryusei was known as the demonic bloodhound. His opponents were wary of his unwavering stamina, acute hits and bullying taunts. Above all? They were scared shitless of his inexplicable ability to sniff out a man's weakness in a few minutes.

Not everybody could rise above his level—a Platinum—and he was one of the best bets any bored devil could root for.

You felt them behind you, in the shadows, humming like ants in your bloodstream.

Waiting for your lover to make the first move. To effortlessly win them some easy coke cash for the night.

Assuming his favourite front stance, he curls his fingers in a come-hither motion, a teasing smile tugging his lips as he goads the other man. It works.

The poor asshole's nostrils flare, and he charges without thinking—right into Ryusei's trap.

One swift roundhouse kick, a grapple and a deft movement which involved a blistering series of side kicks later, his opponent crashed into the opposing cage wall, completely out cold.

The silent crowd erupts in cheers, and Shidou jeers at his unconscious competition, tongue caught between his teeth and manic pink eyes circling the crowd. Searching for you.

He finds you and you find him again, arms vining tightly around his neck, his sturdy arms lifting you up for your thighs to hitch around his narrow waist. A smear of blood is on his cheek and his knuckles are split from Blue Lock's ruthless anti-protection gear rule.

It was protocol—every fighter worth his salt had to man up and face potential debilitating injuries head on. Thankfully for you, Shidou is not as beaten up as before, though you can't say the same for the other man being wheeled out into the medic bay.

"Did you see me?" he rasped, and in front of the entire crowd, grips your ass cheeks, kneading them with sure hands. "That third punch was for you, baby girl. I made it hurt a bit more—all dopamine and shit. Good stuff just for you, doll face."

"I did, Ryu, I did. I'm so proud of you." He grins and practically sucks your lips with his, kissing you with no hesitation; uncaring for the numerous voyeuristic eyes drinking in both your passion for the other.

"Say that again," he mumbles, and you don't have to look down to find his cock half-hard pressed right at your quivering entrance. "Say it, angel face. Say it again."

The desperation coating his tone makes your stomach flip and you fight back a moan when he starts to snap his hips up, impatient to have you. "I'm proud," you manage to whimper. "S-so proud of you, Ryu."

"That's my girl."

You try not to let your worry show and dampen the mood. Putting on a bright grin, your shaky fingers touch his cheeks, pulling him in for another kiss. And another. And one more before he brings you into the locker room for you to tend to his wounds nicely.

Those kisses which spoke volumes of the reassurance that he would be safe and sound by your side for one more day.

#I HOPE U ENJOYED THIS BC WHEEEWW #HE DOES SOMETHING TO ME #shidou ryusei #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #also this is my first time writing for him sry if i got him wrong ;--;#🥊—bllk ufc verse #🦢 writes

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lalunanymph · 2 years ago

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you ask underground fighter! rin to teach you how to throw a punch in self-defence and decide its a good idea to tackle him out of retaliation but duh, his reflexes are immaculate and he has you flushed on the mat, wrists pinned down on the floor. his teal gaze is indifferent to your flustered expression and breathless gasps, but the tent in his shorts say otherwise.

#itoshi rin x reader #bllk smut #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin thirst #itoshi rin smut #PUCNVGHJKLF I NEED HIM #I NEED HIMMMM #🥊—bllk ufc verse #play-fighting -> fucking #truly my favourite pipeline #pun intended #thirsty thots 🥃

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lalunanymph · 2 years ago

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"is it bad?"

underground fighter! isagi looks at his best friend and comrade in the ring with a grimace—the bulging bruise under his eye begging for attention. underground fighter! bachira hums, sterilising a needle before precariously hovering it over the sac of congealed blood.

"kinda. but hey—after i'm done, she shouldn't be too worried."

isagi thinks about how you would react when he comes home after yet another bloody fight and he shudders to think about the tears in your eyes. the muffled sniffles you tuck in between your bruised lip from your teeth clamping down too hard to stop yourself from bawling at the sight of his bruised face.

his sweet, innocent little crybaby of a girlfriend.

the needle lances through the swollen flesh and fresh blood spurts down his cheek. isagi hisses, but despite the sharp, agonising pain, he can't wait to go home to you; to bask in your kisses, to feel your soft fingers daintily brushing against the fresh lacerations on his body.

for you to ground him and remind him that he's home. that he's safe.

"sap," meguru chuckles as he wipes off the red rivulets on his friend's face with a spare towel. "you're getting your injuries drained and yet you're still smiling. only your girl can do that to you, huh?"

and isagi doesn't bother to refute him.

no matter how badly he was in pain, the mere thought of you would be a soothing balm enough to get him feeling like he could take on the entire world.

#I CAVED AND WROTE A LITTLE SOMETHING #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #isagi x you #bllk x reader #isagi fluff #tw. blood #tw. injuries #consider this the first post for the #🥊—bllk ufc verse #🦢 writes

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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you just said the words underground fighter sae and my legs opened like the gates of heaven bright white light and all oh my god I’m going to chew marbles

HE IS SO SCRUNKLY AND SAD LOOK AT HIM i mean canon!sae is already p tragic but i am AMPING up his soggy meter here

#🥊—bllk ufc verse #bllk angst #sae angst #dawn.replies

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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ufc!sae reads romance novels he secretly collects from this old bookstore near his apartment that throws them out because "romance doesn't sell" btw. make of it what you will

#LOOK I WILL SAY IT ONCE AND NEVER AGAIN #canon!sae is a romantic at heart #the fact that he spends his free time by the seashore #and still adores chibi maruko-chan after all these years #a nostalgic old romantic soul #who's kinda an asshole sometimes #🥊—bllk ufc verse

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lalunanymph · 2 years ago

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had the tastiest thot for fwb!underground fighter!sae </333

#ACKSJDJFJ WAHDJDH SNIFFLES #on a side note #hiiii hi hi #it’s been awhile #i miss yall #💞💞💞#🥊—bllk ufc verse #dawn.txt

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kyurizz · 3 days ago

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I WAS SO SCARED FOR THE ENDING THANK YOU FOR THW HAPPY ENDING