#Itoshi sae x reader

[m0reighn4]

Screamed!

battle of wills by @seravphs (L <- R)

CHAT WE ARE SOOO BACKKKK. kind of. maybe.

[kaisaerinlover]

vampire sae

tw: blood obv

itoshi sae as your weird half-vampire boyfriend. he loves the taste of your blood, so sweet. like sugar. so delicious. you’re a great catch and he’s lucky he plucked you up right when he did; perfect and ripe for the picking.

but he does love you (even though sometimes you feel like he just wants you for your blood), he really does love you a lot. even when he bites at you so deeply with a hunger you’re sure you’ve only ever known wild animals to display, trying to get everything he can out of you. he’s usually one to savour his meals - not you though. you’re tantalising. there’s not enough words in the dictionary of any of the 3 languages he’s fluent in to be able to tell you just how fucking good you taste on the tip of his tongue, writhing underneath him. even when you’re simply sitting in the stands watching him play, god, he prays no one else is a creature like him; because if they could smell the sweet dainty scent of your insides, they would definitely try and steal you off of him. you’re the sole reason the midfielder tries so hard in his games. he’s undefeated, hell, he’s even gotten so impatient at his teammates for not playing well enough that he’s simply just gone to score goals himself. he is an undisputed champion - the best midfielder there’s ever going to be for a long while; but his motivation isn’t the fame, money or even legacy he knows the itoshi name will carry for years to come. no; it’s the pliant little snack he has sitting in the stalls all dolled up and dreading for the moment he gets her alone again ready to devour her whole.

you think he’s a greedy bastard, hell, he’ll drag you to the locker room and take you right there sometimes. you shudder at the memory of the last time that happened. gross; he had you pinned up inside of his locker as he sucked the everloving shit out of your neck and fucked so deep into you you were sure you wouldn’t make it out of there alive. you even begged him to turn you into a vampire too; you were absolutely convinced you would be a slumped over mess of cum and blood in the bottom of his locker by the time he’d finished having his way with you. he simply rolled his eyes and kissed you roughly, then shoved 2 fingers in your mouth and went right back to it. but hey, you didn’t die. that’s something at least.

you, begrudgingly, can admit that you love him too though. he has his charm, weird charm, weird nonchalant and non caring charm. it’s weird, but you enjoy it. his voice snaps you out of it. “hey, wanna go to the beach?” he backs you up against the wall as he asks this. it’s hard to think it through and give him a straight answer when he’s twirling your hair around his finger in a way that sends tingles down your spine. when he’s so close and licking his lips. he knows it too. that’s why he knows you’ll agree. and you do.

the sand feels nice against your feet and the smell of the sea is nice. you’re never quite sure what sae’s fixation on the beach is, maybe he’s a nostalgia merchant or something. you don’t pry in his private life; he likes that about you. you’re not nosey enough to intrude, but somehow know when he needs comforting. it’s not now though, you both know why you’re here. the beach is nicer at night - no one else is around to take you away from him, and it looks better (in sae’s opinion). he keeps you dressed up all dollish and sweet. white flowy clothes only, he won’t do any less for you. he likes the way it looks after he’s finished with you.

it’s hard to enjoy the beach when you’re waiting for what’s coming, scared of sae pouncing on you from behind. but he’d never do that, you know that too. don’t be paranoid. you lean into his touch and cling to him as he slowly pushes you down onto the sandy ground and starts kissing you gently. “you smell so good, wanna eat you so bad” sae talks in mumbles. so it’s a miracle you even heard him. he hates complimenting you too loudly, he cringes at his own words. but he knows deep down you deserve it. you deserve all the niceness for everything he forces you to go through, although he's not quite sure why you haven't left yet. he kept you captive at first; but now you're free to go. he's not exactly the most manipulative guy, so he is a little dumb to the fact you've probably just developed a learned dependency on him. you taste really good, he can smell your blood already and he hasn't even bitten down. he fucking loves it. it drives him insane. he's not sure if there's ever going to be a large enough quantity of it to quench his ravenous cravings for you. everything about you.

sae gets up to reposition himself closer to your nape, and the warm air of the beach just 10 minutes away from the hotel you're staying at is replaced by a considerably more bulky and muscular presence (itoshi sae of course), one that you know clicks with you like a missing piece of a puzzle more than you'd like to admit. you know what's coming, but you don't fight it anymore. sae sinks his teeth into your neck and lets out a low gutteral moan at the sensation of your dessert-esque blood entering his mouth. he's a clean guy usually, very well rounded, doesn't make trouble, good manners. a man of poise and grace. the mysterious guy that most girls would fantasise about in their wet dreams. but not here. he's a messy eater when it comes to your oh so sweet nectar that he can never seem to have enough of. his thirst for you is never satiated. you pant and whine a little in pain and his name passes your lips in a way you both know he loves to hear so dearly. "s-sae- hurts- slow down-" you choke out between sobs. he watches as droplets of your blood mix with the sand below. he likes the way it looks. he likes the way blood falls onto those stupidly elegant white dresses he always insists on you wearing. you look so pure still, even with your own essences running everywhere as he sucks you dry like always. but he's careful - he'd never want to harm you. he's greedy, but you are more important than his greed. he pulls back a bit and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. god, you're beautiful like this. arms next to your head looking all obedient like a stupid little fawn; some precious baby animal. all covered in the pretty red blood. he licks the wound and moves to kiss you. "love you, you taste so good baby" he whispers into your mouth before biting your tongue. you yelp as best you can but try to kiss him back.

itoshi sae is not a composed man when it comes to you, you think it's ironic how he's displayed in the media and in the eyes and hearts of teenage girls alike. because you know exactly how he is; he is a man who is quick to succumb to his desires. whether it's his greed, or the fact he (secretly) enjoys causing you pain just to elicit a reaction. he likes your squeals, likes how you're putty in his hands essentially. he knows he's completely in control, you're helpless. your dress is hitched up and you shiver a little as you feel the warm air get even closer to your core. spain is always warm, especially at night; but it's a comforting warmth. ironic to say since you're laying in your own blood as your boyfriend/vampire kidnapper moves your tiny white panties to the side and plunges 3 fingers straight into you whilst he bites at you anywhere he can. he nibbles your cheek and sucks it as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. your moans, they're almost as sweet as your blood on his tongue.

"p-please just fuck me" he likes when you beg. he knows what he's doing. he's calculated. he's not maliciously manipulative for the most part. but don't ever doubt that he's calculated. everything about him is meticulously planned. he only turns into a monster the same way the younger itoshi brother does when he gets a whiff of your blood's scent. he won't not indulge you though, not because he's nice; he simply just wants it too. so count yourself lucky for that one thing. you whine when he removes his fingers and the cooler air hits your most sensitive area again, but you moan his name out when his cock finally enters you. it's bliss. "stay still. don't writhe" he says into your cheek. he's demanding, but his tone is never harsh. it doesn't need to be; you're a good girl. you'll listen. he likes making it painful for you sometimes. today is just that: one of those times. it hurts when he thrusts into you hard enough that you feel the impact of his cock inside of your tight warmth throughout the whole of your body. he's chewing and sucking at your face wherever allows him to get the most taste of you without actually bleeding you dry anymore. he's a good fuck, it's like heaven with him even when it hurts so much. you whine and he pants as he brutishly fucks you. he thinks it's so hot, fucking you into the ground. blood all over you. you look a fucking mess. he probably does too. his baby bangs sticking to his head a bit from the sweat and blood he somehow managed to get on his forehead. he doesn't care though. your moans are fucking perfection.

he pushes your head further down and bites at you harder. you know he's about to cum. you weakly wrap an arm around his neck and pull him closer to you in a futile attempt to catch his lips in a gentle kiss as he finishes inside of you. he indulges you, nicely this time too. kisses you so sweetly like you're made of glass. like you're some princess and he's the knight. he finishes inside of your tight little pussy, the one he loves fucking so dearly, and gazes down at you. tears, blood, sweat, sand, drool. you're covered. you're filthy and disgusting. he loves it. "look at you, slut" he chastises you. but his words hold barely any malice. only love. you can't respond; poor thing, you're real fucked out, aren't you? you feel sae's cum threatening to leak out of you, but he moves his fingers down to your battered and abused pussy and scoops his cum back in there - shoves it even further inside of you with his 2 fingers, then brings them to your mouth so you can suck them clean. and you do, you open your mouth and suck his cum and your essence off of his long digits.

he's tired; but never too tired to tend to you. so he pushes himself up, brushes some sand ontop of the grains of it he already painted with your blood, and picks you up into his arms. and you're grateful he's like this. he doesn't really speak much; he's a man of very few words. you can appreciate that. but you know he cares about you at least. his actions tell you all that.

after he's laid you down on the bed of the pricey hotel room he just stares at you. you're his beloved. he doesn't know what to think really, just stares at your sleeping form. you're really pretty, and pliant, and docile, and not to mention tasty. you're the whole package. he just can't stop looking at you and thinking of your beauty. your hair is messed with a little by his long fingers. he twirls it around his fingers and stares you down in your sleep. you're really everything to him. he's not sure he appreciates you enough. you're not really asleep; you won't let him know that though. you'll let him have this. it's nice being blissfully aware of his rare, delicate touches towards you. especially when your neck still aches from his feral assault.

you're lulled into real sleep when he finally lays behind you and kisses the spot he bit at so hard earlier. and he is too. you're a real keeper, you really are. and itoshi sae is cold, and hard hearted, hard headed, everything that any best friend would tell you to steer extremely clear of if you had one, but you can't care. you love him and he loves you; you know he holds you dearly in regards inside of his slightly warmed up heart.

tags: @saetiate my sae fic........................ i hope this finds u well.................

[etherealrin]

✶⋆.˚ thinking about sae with an eyebrow piercing...

itoshi sae regrets ever giving into his intrusive thoughts—or more specifically—his and shidou's intrusive thoughts.

nothing was even supposed to happen that night. sae was only staying in japan for a few more days after the u-20s match had ended, and even though they had lost, he didn’t care. it wasn’t his reputation that had been damaged. however japan's under twenties team captain aiku had insisted on them all going out for drinks together, to "cheer up," which sae had reluctantly agreed to in order to appease his manager.

so yes, shidou had a few too many drinks in his system, and sae had drank as well. though the latter wasn't nearly as tipsy, it was enough to cloud his judgement.

that was the beginning of the end for sae.

"saeeeee," shidou slurred, a mischievous gleam in his pinkish eyes. "y'know what would look awesome on you?"

"huh?" the same disinterested tone that always came out whenever sae spoke.

"something 'bout your eyebrows, i dunno. like one of those eyebrow slits...wait, no! an eyebrow piercing, that would be an explosion!" although his words were barely coherent, the blonde seemed excited at the prospect, scrolling through his phone for something.

an eyebrow piercing? sae had never put much thought into that before, or any bodily piercing for that matter. would it really look good on him? he wasn't one to trust shidou's erratic taste, but...

sae recalls a conversation he had, not so long ago.

"i think guys with piercings are cool," you'd said over call a few nights back.

"huh?" sae had the same reaction to both your and shidou's insane suggestions. "no way, it'd probably mess up my soccer. and i'd look stupid."

you'd frowned at him through the pixels of his phone. "well, i'm not seriously asking you to get one, but it'd be hot, that's all."

"saeeee," in the short few seconds sae had been mulling over what you'd told him, shidou had come up to him again. sae raised an eyebrow, looking at the devilish boy pointedly. "we should totally do it. for fucks sake, we're in shibuya! there's loads of piercing studios around here!"

what happened next was enough to make the sober sae want to swear off alcohol for a lifetime.

he had actually agreed with shidou, and allowed himself to be dragged out of the bar, away from his teammates. the two stumbled into a brightly lit store, the employees giving them both questionable glances upon arrival.

"we want eyebrow piercings." shidou announced, showing them a reference picture—a silver, metal rod vertical against the eyebrow.

"...are you guys sure?" the girl working had asked. shidou nodded enthusiastically, and sae followed suit against his better judgement, somewhat dazed. the only thing that pushed sae to agree at that moment was the prospect of your reaction. would you think he was hot now? would your face turn bright red, would you gasp at-

a sharp pang drew sae back to reality, and he almost winced.

"it's done," the girl stated, handing them both a mirror. sae blinked. yeah, there was a thing in his eyebrow alright—the gleam of the cool metal was hard to miss. he didn't think too much of it, except that its angularity made his face and jawline appear sharper. if sae had to describe it, he might have chosen the word edgy, his hair was too pink for him to look emo.

"ooh sae, it's even better than i thought!" without warning, shidou snapped a selfie.

"delete that," sae's frigid glare should have been enough to scare him. unfortunately, it was shidou, and he was drunk.

"and...already posted, woohoo!"

sae was dragged out of the shop as quickly as he had came in, and the rest of the night was an alarming void in his memories. he hadn't the foggiest idea of how he made it back to his hotel, except that he woke up today after you had called him.

"morning, cariño."

"itoshi sae, are you possesed?" is that the start of some odd pick up line?

"i'm perfectly fine, thank you? did you really call me to ask that?" sae furrows a brow. he will never understand your train of thought, even after being with you for years.

"hello? do you not know what shidou posted? and i swear you said you'd never get any piercings..." your voice rings out loud and clear.

so that explains why sae awoke with a splitting headache.

"shit," he mutters, racing to the bathroom mirror. sure enough, that stupid piercing was still there, happily resting in his left brow. "i'll kill shidou," he groans, regret coursing through his body. surely last night was just a fever dream; he would have been insane to agree to match something so permanent with that blonde bug.

"don't you dare take it out, itoshi sae!" your sound is muffled now, given that sae had thrown the phone into his blankets.

"and why shouldn't i?"

"it's hot. also you might get an infection and that'd look bad." it's hot? it slowly dawns on sae the new leverage he holds over you.

"ohhh, so you like this," he starts, reaching back for the phone and bringing it up to his face. he's got a cocky smirk stuck to his lips, enjoying your flustered expression as he takes you up close and personal.

"stop it! i might die, you freak!" you actually sound pained, like he had sucked all the breath out of your lungs. sae snickers.

"let's see how you hold up when i come home, amor."

bonus: you could not wait for sae to come back to spain now. sure enough, when you finally greet him at the airport, he's got the same shit-eating grin on, sporting that damn piercing like he was the finest man alive (you think he is.) "sae!" you begin running towards him, and depsite trying to act nonchalant before, his feelings win and sae finds himself headed towards you as well. "missed you," you mutter into his arms after the collision. he doesn't say anything except pull you closer to his chest. when you look up, you think you might faint right there at the baggage claim area. "like what you see?" he's smirking again. "SAE!" you're bright pink now, curse your boyfriend for being too attractive!

a/n: i think i'll just evaporate now thanks...whatever possesed me to have this thought and write it out omfg. sae and rin with piercings haunt me on the daily

masterlist!

[emichanted]

➷ BAD HABITS ft. Sae Itoshi (MDNI)

Synopsis: Sae is your ex. But you somehow always end up back in his bed.

Contains: Sexual Content (MDNI), a little bit of angst.

Warning: NOT proof read (I apologise for any mistakes)

Word Count: 2.8k

You found yourself in Sae's bed again, your legs were wrapped around his waist as he slid in and out inside of you. God you missed this. You missed him.

Sae is your ex. You had closed that door month ago when he made it very clear he would always put soccer above you. Which you did understand. It was his career, his dream. But what about you? Where did you fit in? Because he surely never made the time or effort to show you that you meant anything to him.

But you never locked that door. And that was a mistake on your part. You were hoping, praying, he would come back and tell you how much he loved you. But instead, you somehow ended up finding yourself entangled in his bed, just like right now. It was a bad habit of yours. One that you loved and hated at the same time.

You were mad at yourself, but you also couldn't imagine letting any other man fuck you. Sae just did it sooo good.

But you were also mad at him. Why did he let this happen? A part of you was hoping that maybe, just maybe, he missed you, too.

You throw your head back as you feel your orgasm coming, you feel Sae's heavy breaths agains your neck, he was about to finish too. Both of you cling onto eachother as you reach your climaxes. Sae drops down beside you, relaxing his breath, your head spinning.

You feel Sae's hand come up and rest on your stomach. You turn your head to look at him and see him already staring at you.

"What?"

That annoying smirk of his appears on his face as he uses his finger to trace little circles on your stomach, sending shivers down your spine.

"Nothing. You're just very beautiful like this."

You roll your eyes at him and turn your head away from him. Because, what the fuck?

"Hey, Y/N?"

You don't look at him. You simply answer with an annoyed "what?" As you sit up from his bed, grabbing your clothes.

He grabs your wrist, stopping you. That's when you finally turn around and look at him again.

"Don't... Don't go just yet..."

Was the Sae Itoshi who doesn't give a fuck about anything literally asking you to not leave just yet? You weren't sure if your mind was playing tricks on you.

"What?" Your words come out quieter than intended.

He lets go of your wrist and sighs, rolling onto his back. God, he was beautiful.

"I've just been thinking, Y/N... We've been broken up for months now."

Yeah, you have been. And yet, here you are, in his room, naked, sitting on his bed.

He turns his head to face you again.

"But yet, we always find ourselves back in each others arms."

Was that a smile you saw on his face? A genuine smile? You gulp, wondering what's coming next, not wanting to let your hopes up.

"I mean... I may just be hoping for too much but... Maybe, you still love me?"

Same props himself up on his elbow, staring into your eyes. You feel so... Bare... Under his stare. Even though you are still naked, you feel like he's staring right into you.

You gulp. "And what would that change?"

"Everything."

Before you know what's going on, Sae grabs your arm and pulls you on top of him. You stare down at him underneath you, your hands on his chest. You feel like you're about to explode.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Is all he says before he pulls your face to his and kisses you with more passion than ever. After a few seconds, he pulls away and stares at you again. "Can you give me another chance? I promise to do better this time..."

Andyou just couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you kissed him. Harder than ever before. The words you've been longing to hear. He finally said it. You felt like you could die right this moment.

Maybe this bad habit of always ending back up in his bed was not such a bad habit after all if it ended like this? You couldn't be more happier.

A/N: pls I love Sae sm I could write fics about his every day, all day 🤧

Masterlist

[myotherblogforrin]

Plushie Stranger

Warning: May be OOC for whichever one you choose.

"No, no, no!" You half growled half pled with the claw machine.

After an hour and an obscene amount of money you still couldn't get the plushie you wanted. Sighing, you knew you had to meet up with your friends.

"Here."

The same plushie you wanted was thrust in your face by a complete stranger. You looked up to your left, a guy with teal eyes and killer eyelashes standing there. He wore a ball cap pulled down and a black mask covering his lower face.

Part of you was ready to cry for such a sweet gesture. The other part was about to throat punch him if this was some kind of sicko trying to lure you in.

The stranger sighed annoyed placing the plushie in the back of your hoodie before walking off.

"Wait!!! I need to pay you..."

He completely ignored you walking out onto the street. You rushed to catch up to him, but before you could your four best friends surrounded you squealing and talking excitedly.

"Interesting place to keep a plush. You get so many of them your bag is full?" Nao teased you.

You took the plushie from her hand and hugged it against your chest. A huge grin appeared as you squeezed it tighter.

From afar, the stranger observed you and his own lips formed a small smile when he saw yours.

He hoped you didn't think he was a creep or anything. He saw how hard you tried to get that plush and on your last attempt the claw froze up as if it was broken before dropping the plush away from the tube.

He hadn't expected you to be as beautiful close up, but he was happy. Especially when your eyes lit up at the plushie he offered you.

The stranger hoped he'd see you again.

[sugarwarachan]

random horny thoughts about bllk men - pt 1

(･ω･)�� andy's notes: still trapped in horny writer block jail!! every single one of them is a menace - mdni

characters: itoshi sae, michael kaiser, isagi yoichi, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, barou shoei

cws: nsfw, smut, all characters 18+, f reader, s/d undertones to some of these but nothing specifically outlined, can sae be his own warning, masturbation, predator/prey kink, dirty talk, consensual filming, breeding kink, creampie, edging, oral m receiving, lingerie kink

when he catches you pleasuring yourself, sae enacts a very specific form of punishment. he pulls you to the edge of the bed, crouches down, and inspects your pussy up close, humming under his breath with stern disappointment that sends a bolt of arousal through your belly. “you couldn’t even wait an hour for me?” he abruptly pushes you away. “go on then if you’re so desperate. let’s see if you can actually get yourself off.”

kaiser likes to chase you down the streets of his hometown. his legs quickly close the distance; he can hear your strained panting, see the flash of fear in your eyes whenever you turn your head to see how close he is to you. he maneuvers you into a corner easily, using his body to cage you in further. your heartbeat races under his palm; he squeezes tight and laughs when you gasp. "told ya I'd find you, sweetheart."

isagi has a hidden album of videos you’ve made together that he revisits whenever he’s away. he’s gotten really good at filming, angling down to his cock sliding in and out while your embarrassed little squeaks sound off camera. “yoichi, it’s too loud,” he hears you say, followed by his own reply, “I know, baby, this slutty fuckin’ pussy of yours always gets so talkative when I film her. wonder why that is?”

shidou has the nastiest breeding kink known to man. he doesn’t think of it in terms of knocking you up—although when he has your legs folded behind your head, he thinks fucking a little brat into you might not be so bad—he just loves stuffng creampie after creampie into you. the milky ring that forms around his cock when he’s plugged inside your cunt makes this man go fucking feral.

he won’t admit to it, but rin loves it when you edge him. it’s the fourth time you’ve brought him close to orgasm with your tongue and fingers alone and he’s panting and whining on the bed. his hands tangle in your hair, mouth open in a mixture of pleasure and pain. he can’t stop his hips from snapping forward, searching out release along the warm column of your throat. every whimper and moan sounds like it's being dragged from his lips until finally, finally, you hear him say, "please let me cum."

barou loves to see you in lingerie, but has a terrible habit of shredding every piece you own the second he sees it on your body. he's a big guy and he's usually considerate with his size and strength around you (until he isn't swoon), but with those tiny little scraps of lace barely covering your nipples, what else do you expect from him? always makes up for it by taking you shopping for new sets, but inevitably ruins each piece.

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate, or steal any of my works. reblogs and comments always appreciated my lil bbs <3

[saeishi]

── ₊ ✶⋆.˚ down bad !

02. karma is a bitch

previous ◈ masterlist ◈ next

── ⟡

a/n: i was suppose to update last night but i remember i deleted some of my apps to fix my storage, so i had to redo the profiles and chats 😓

SUMMARY. you just wanted to prank your friend by giving him a love letter as "payback" for not lending you his notes. it should be easy— writing it and sending it to him. but why is his brother the one that's reaching out to you the next day?!

── ⟡

TAGLIST. (open)

I. @anqelkoz @ihsoti @yorubl1d3 @hellothere9597 @nomyimi @saeglazer @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @captainshindo @xxbookloversworldxx @vaelils @sugacor3 @vashyuu @tojirin @ohagiyo @kaz-0e @yoshinocherries @acrylicxu @prdoe @kaikaidenkai @90s-belladonna @blvdmrcnry @jeonggukimagines @bub-ss @zayqw @kyutiipie @realrintaro @nevvynev @arslansenkai @bvttersywt @ruchimochi @dontmindtheevie @haruhi269 @chuurinnie @jeagermika @noecyan @lavzxx @mo072806 @ewsnup @swagkittybear @lizbix @aluraveil @levihanmyotp @sapph1r3x @emichanted @arwawawa2 @cookiesandcreammy @heartbrii @samthesimp1 @n0tviv @bubybubsters

[dollbrbie]

sae itoshi ʚ ɞ texts with mma!sae

cw. pretty suggestive so mdni

♡ mma!sae masterlist

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹🪽♡

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[rei-plswork]

BRUH I CAN IMAGINE HOW FUNNY THIS SCENE WOULD TURN OUT

ex bf! sae x reader who likes to play around w/ him pt 5

m.list

rin stared down at his phone— eyes slightly wide, yet there's an unmistakable glimmer of amusement.

he feels almost happy that you sometimes share pictures of your little jokes. he even let out a chuckle at the video from the night earlier— he’s never seen sae look like that.

so, it’s obvious that rin would feel just a little giddy when you invite him to join in on a prank.

now, don’t tell anyone— but he always wanted to help out! he was just a little shy. however, he knows that you have his back— you’re his basically-sister-in-law, after all!

so, he finds himself standing outside sae’s house— wearing one of your dresses and wearing a cheap wig that’s supposed to match you.

rin looks nothing like you— so it’s obvious sae won’t believe it. but you insisted that it’ll be funny.

especially with you wearing the younger brother’s clothes, smiling excitedly to yourself. brother-sister bonding time is always fun, huh?

you prance up to ex bf! sae’s door, knocking on it before quickly stiffening. your expression hardens, and you do your absolute best to get into character as rin steps up behind you.

just like you practiced. he sighs, his lips curving into an awkward smile— acting like you is a little hard. especially with the way his heartbeat speeds up slightly when the door opens. this is so embarrassing, rin thinks. but he’s oddly happy to be doing something with you.

“name?” ex bf! sae says, raising an eyebrow at you— the real you. but right now, you’re not ‘name’. you’re rin! so you shake your head, folding your arms over your chest.

“i’m rin and i’m the best striker.” you state matter-of-factly, straightening your posture. the real rin’s smile falters just slightly, and he swears he has a sinking feeling creeping up on him as he steps closer.

he clears his throat, the tips of his ears flushing a soft pink as he speaks. “..hi sae.” he greets, trying his absolute hardest to keep the same higher pitched tone you instructed him to use. it’s not too difficult— he’s sure he had a voice crack or something.

“what?” ex bf! sae blinks, unimpressed at your little show. “are you kidding me?”

“no!” you say quickly, your usual voice slipping through your rin facade for a moment, before you quickly cough and get back into character. “didn’t you miss me, big bro?!” you huff, stepping closer— just barely pushing the boundaries of stepping right into his house.

“what about me, sae?” rin says, batting his eyelashes and tilting his head. he’s a surprisingly good actor— big sis knows best!

ex bf! sae just stares. if the question mark was a human it would be him at the moment.

“let us in!” you insist, raising a fist at your ex boyfriend— and rin nods eagerly, stepping closer behind you. it’s been a while since he visited sae— not that he wants to, or anything. he’s just really in character.

“no— hey,” ex bf! sae sputters, eyes widening as he looks back at your fists. he’s so confused. what is this? how many srupid ideas can you come up with?

“whatever. i’m going to go train and play soccer!” you announce, turning around and stomping down the pathway— yes, you’re still walking how you think rin walks. staying in character is the most important part!

rin just smiled shyly, surprisingly in character as he waves back at his brother. he turns, following after you as you leave— and ex bf! sae is left, completely confused and standing in his doorway.

note: this was originally meant to be a half part with rin, so sorry if it’s a bit confusing :(

[vandal-flower]

Imagine coming home late, only to find your significant other perched on the couch, caressing your pet/ or holding the house plant in their lap. He glares at you,

"Where have you been?"

As if he didn't travel across the world, only telling you last minute just two weeks ago.

[chevxyn]

conflicted feelings.

continuation; after your 'break up' with sae, your producer helped you to make a new album, and as you were having a hard time finding a model for your cover, isagi just happens to have a friend.

an itoshi sae & yukimiya kenyu smau series

act 0, introduction iii; yukimiya’s group.

yukimiya kenyu.

pretty boy

- 18

- lethal face card but can’t see it (get it)

hiori yo.

gamer girl (man)

- 17

- good luck beating bro in a pvp game

kurona ranze.

secretly a shark

- 16

- don’t let him bite (srs)

karasu tabito.

“assassin”

- 18

- wants to be called the corny ahh nickname

nanase nijiro.

cutie

- 16

- the most rational one (nicest one)

aryu jyubei.

glamourista

- 18

- chigiri please answer his dms

isagi yoichi.

kind one (to them)

- 17

- do not let bro use his alt account

extras : yukimiya’s priv

taglist (open) : @kaz-0e, @sxftiebee, @levihanmyotp, @5-laska, @anqelkoz, @nensi, @sorasushik1, @dontmindtheevie, @skylight-was-here, @luvynii, @nomyimi, @tojirin, @sellomaybe, @90s-belladonna, @mivqko, @saiongfs, @viscoolreal, @ihsoti, @kyutiipie, @seishroo, @yiiscorner, @orphicarchive, @kenyuukissme, @yuiearyi, @xiavbi, @realrintaro, @ashiraismyname

©chevxyn

[cheqorb]

Savour the Fugacious Pleasures in Life.

Life is full of fleeting moments that you want to capture and cherish eternally; to display in a frame for all to see.

FEAT. Itoshi Brothers

NOTES. Hiiiii so erm yes Im not Dead i know iknow i was as devaastated as you probably are rn. Needed to #expand my horizons or whatever people say, so I tried writing for these two losers. idk if this fits on tumblr sooo i may delete this and jusy keep it on ao3

WORD COUNT. 7.1k

It’s when you’re overlooking her corpse that the thought first roots itself in your mind: she is gone and eventually the memory of her face will blur. You stare unblinkingly, as if your gaze alone could will her features into permanence. But no matter how hard people try, eventually they’ll forget the beauty of those they have lost.

The only remnant of your mother is some cheap polaroid and you couldn’t help but think, is that really it? A person who lived and breathed one time would have their life rendered to some flimsy photograph. It feels like an insult. You hate it. The thought claws at you as the lid is placed over the casket.

You decide right then and there that you will not be like her. You will not fade into obscurity. You will capture everything in your life until you are certain you have existed.

────

The camera feels a little heavier than usual, but that alone does not deter you from pointing it towards the flowers in bloom. They are beautiful, fragile things, and you’ll be sad once they disappear (even though they always return when Spring returns). In the time where they do not exist, you will have the evidence to prove they once did.

You consider yourself quite busy, too busy to listen to the teacher calling everyone back inside.

The cooing of pigeons draws your attention soon after. You follow it carefully, stepping lightly across the pavement. Birds are difficult. They startle too easily, dissolving into the sky before you can even press the shutter. But you are quiet, deliberate, the way one must be to catch something before it vanishes.

You position the camera in your small hands, and steady your breath. And then—

Something crashes down, right in front of you. The only thing you capture is the blur of pigeons scattering, wings beating frantically against the air.

You lower the camera, staring with mild disdain at whatever has interrupted you. Upon further inspection, it is a boy. He lies sprawled beneath the monkey bars, blood trickling from his nose, his arms stretched out like a fallen puppet. He does not cry. He does not call for help. He just blinks up at the sky, unfazed by the sight of himself.

It fascinates you.

You lower the camera slightly, tilting your head as you observe him. The blood from his nose drips steadily and it stains the collar of his shirt, yet he makes no move to wipe it away. You wonder if he even notices it at all.

Slowly, you step closer. The pigeons are gone but this is still something worth capturing. An audible click sound is heard. “You should clean your face,” you finally say, not necessarily out of concern, but curiosity.

The boy finally looks up at you, then lifts a hand to his nose, which smears the blood across his cheek. He examines his fingers, tilting them in the light as if he, too, finds the sight interesting. Footsteps hurry over, stopping just beside you. They’re quick and uneven, a complete contrast to your earlier movements. You bet they wouldn’t be able to capture anything with that sort of clumsiness.

A panicked voice follows.

“R-Rin! Y/N, tell me what happened! You didn’t push him, did you?”

You shake your head calmly. “He pushed himself over. I just wanted to take a look at the pigeons that were just here before he fell on top of them.”

She gives you a passing glance, the kind adults like to use when they’re weighing the truth of a child’s words, before turning her attention back to Rin. Without another word, she takes his hand and with the other, gestures for you to follow. You don’t protest as she drags you both back inside.

“I have proof,” you continue. “I have pictures of the pigeons. And a picture of him on the ground.”

She blinks at you, obviously thrown off as she finishes dabbing at Rin’s nose, pressing more tissues into his hands. Odd doesn’t even begin to describe either of you but she makes the effort to smile in spite of this fact, though you don’t really care. People can think of you as a weirdo all they like. Succumbing to their ideals to fit in is such a cheap way to live.

Once the woman leaves to deal with some other children’s reckless behavior (albeit less extreme compared to Rin’s), you sit in silence. He doesn’t speak, and you don’t feel the need to either. The quiet is comfortable, or at the very least, tolerable.

Then a thought strikes you. Without hesitation, you shove the camera in his face.

He stares at it blankly.

────

You take a picture of the house before waving your father goodbye, as is common practice. The Itoshis seem well-off. Their home is a very nice building, much like your own, but because it is unfamiliar it holds a novelty your house could never dream of having.

At the door, Rin’s parents greet you with warm smiles. One of them leans slightly toward the other, their voice dropping just enough for you to catch the words. “You know, I think this is the first time Rin’s had a friend over.”

“I’m so glad! Is he finally starting to act like other kids his age? I was worried he’d never…”

This denial of ‘otherness’ perplexes you still.

You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you don’t. Instead you focus on toeing off your shoes and letting the words settle somewhere in the back of your mind. They can be used another time. In the meantime, something else catches your eye; a tuft of magenta peeking around the corner, gone just as quickly as you notice it.

You pause, your thoughts turning toward something much more serious. A monster. It would be a furry beast lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. That said, if it does eat you, you’ll be sure to take a picture of it doing so. That way at least someone will know what happened to you.

The moment of troubling distress does not last long, however. A woman — with a similar shade of magenta in her own hair — gently guides you into another room. Rin is already there, sitting on the floor with his eyes fixed on the television.

You follow his gaze.

On the screen is a deer being hunted, its neck caught between sharp teeth, tendons straining before they snap. Blood pools in the grass. The narrator's monotone voice carries on as if this is nothing out of the ordinary. Rin watches in quiet awe.

You sit down beside him, mirroring his posture. He glances at you, as if only now registering your presence.

You think for a moment before speaking. “Is watching this fun?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” You nod, shifting your attention back to the screen. The deer stops moving. Humming thoughtfully, you then ask, “Do you have a monster living in your house?”

Rin hesitates this time, his brows furrowing slightly. “…No?” It sounds more like a question than an answer.

You suppose you’ll take his word for it.

The floor is beginning to grow uncomfortable, the dull ache in your legs making itself known. You decide it’s time to relocate. The couch looms above you like a mountain waiting to be conquered, and with the help of a few pillows nearby serving as stepping stones, your ascent is successful. Once at the top, you sprawl out, satisfied, letting your body sink into the cushions. Sleep sounds nice.

Time passes, though you’re not sure how much, until Rin’s voice calls out, “Nii-chan.”

Your eyes flutter open.

Standing before you is yet another person with unnervingly long under lashes. Though unlike Rin’s, his eyes lean more toward green than teal. His expression is unreadable, and he holds eye contact with you for not even a second longer than necessary before turning back to Rin.

They begin talking. You don’t really pay attention to their words, just the fact that Rin is speaking. A lot. That’s strange. Very strange.

… Or maybe it’s not. Maybe it makes sense, actually. They’re related, after all.

────

Football is a topic that doesn’t particularly interest you. It doesn’t affect your life positively or negatively — it simply exists.

The same cannot be said for Rin or Sae.

Part of you wonders if there’s some sort of psychological explanation for their affinity for the sport but you’re not one to judge, so you leave it be. They’ve badgered you into coming to watch occasionally, and you comply when it seems easier than arguing. Today is one of those days where the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pavement.

“I don’t get it,” you say idly, kicking a loose pebble along the sidewalk. “What’s so fun about football anyway? You just kick a ball around and then get tired while people scream at you to score.”

Sae barely spares you a glance. “I don’t get what’s so fun about clicking a camera all day either. You’re the bigger weirdo here.”

You think he’s only being harsh because he lost the popsicle draw. His tone is telling.

If there’s one thing you know with absolute certainty about Sae, it’s that he detests losing. And losing to Rin? Unacceptable. Rin seemed to care but not in the way you thought he would. He actually tossed the popsicle away soon after, mumbling something about “not wasting his luck.”

You’re almost positive that’s just a lie Sae fed him to make himself feel better. Rin is awfully gullible when it comes to his brother.

────

Sae knows the only thing he’s good for is football. That much has been made clear to him time and time again. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that when you glance at his phone, a look of dissatisfaction flickers across your features.

“These pictures are kinda shit,” you say nonchalantly, “Just let me do it.”

Under normal circumstances, this would be quite insulting to the average person but this is just the way you both talk to each other. Sae prefers to not mince words and it’s not like you bother sugarcoating things either. This mutualistic relationship you both have works, so it’s fine in his eyes.

His hands aren’t as steady as yours so his attempts at photography result in shaky frames, missed angles, or entire chunks of your face cropped out of existence. He scrolls through them absentmindedly (each one worse than the last) until he hands the phone over.

He doesn’t argue. This is your forte after all. You eagerly snatch it up like it’s your life’s purpose to correct this failure.

Sae doesn’t really get why you care so much. But as you adjust the settings, reposition the shot, and press the shutter with a precision he lacks, he has the revolutionary thought that maybe some things just come naturally to certain people.

For him, it’s football.

For you, it’s being an annoyance.

“I’m going to leave soon.” Sae tilts his head back as he watches you. Your eyes move to his direction briefly, as if to say, “Yes. And?”

You nod. “I know that.”

Another thing he’s no good at is small talk.

“Whatever happens, happens,” you say slowly, inching closer towards him. “I’m not going to pretend that you leaving isn’t a big deal, because I think it is, but you’ll come back someday so it’s fine. You’re better off being there.”

────

Your parents are almost never home, Rin notes as he slips off his shoes. It’s not something he ever mentions out loud, but he always notices. Your mother’s absence makes sense (he understands her… situation) but even your very much alive father has a similar problem. Every time he comes over, it’s the same. The house is empty aside from you.

He doesn’t ask about it, of course. If it’s complicated then there’s no point in making you explain it.

Rin wanders through the house, hands tucked in his pockets, moving from room to room in search of you. Not here. Not there. Nowhere, seemingly. It’s become a habit of his to come seek you out since his brother left.

Right. Sae is in Spain now.

Every time Rin remembers this, a complicated feeling settles in his chest. There’s the ache of being left behind, sure, but more than that, there’s pride.

Pride that his brother made it to where he wanted to be. He’s going to become the number one striker in the world and Rin will become second best with him. Together, they’ll win the World Cup and the news is going to use a picture you’ve taken of them both to celebrate the victory.

This outweighs the momentary pity he could allow himself.

Today was supposed to be your horror movie marathon together. He had planned it days in advance before telling you, picking out movies you had never heard of because you clearly weren’t interested with the genre but agreed to nonetheless. There’s already snacks laid out on the table so you definitely hadn’t forgotten.

Besides, you aren’t that kind of person. You’re too sentimental to forget these kinds of things and he’s already mentally prepared himself for the inevitable photoshoot you’ll do to remember the occasion. It’s something he both admires and finds weird about you.

Rin wonders what he should do now. He’s checked every room and you’re still nowhere to be found. With a quiet sigh, he settles onto the couch. You’ll come back eventually. You wouldn’t just leave without a word.

But then something catches his eye from the corner of the room.

It’s barely visible, shoved haphazardly between books, bad test scores, and other random trinkets he bets you’ve kept on purpose. The sight of it unsettles him. Not because it’s out of place, but rather because it feels too in place, like it’s been buried beneath all these things for the sole purpose of being found.

Should he…?

No, that’s bad, right? Rummaging through other people’s stuff is a blatant invasion of privacy. But curiosity gnaws at him, and having nothing better to do, it wins. All he has to do is not get caught. He hopes you can forgive him anyway.

When he pulls it free, the first thing he notices is the layer of dust coating the cover. That’s surprising. He figured a photo album would be something you — of all people — would keep pristine. But this looks practically untouched.

Carefully, he peels back the cover and flips through the pages.

There are a lot of pictures. More than he expected. Some are faded, their edges curled with age. Others are clearer but still old. He recognizes some of the subjects. Flowers from your garden, birds native to the area, city streets among many others, are all here.

And then there are the people. There’s even a few bits and pieces of his own life scattered throughout the album, which in theory, he should probably find a lot creepier than he does. You’ve even gone as far as to date them, as if they were worth remembering.

For a reason unbeknownst to him, Rin continues flipping through the pages. He’s not sure what he’s looking for, if he’s even looking for anything at all, but then his fingers pause.

He almost misses it. A picture.

It catches him so off guard that he backpedals, flipping the page back just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

It’s not a particularly interesting photo. He recognises that the background is just the street a few blocks down from where you both live, nothing special. It must’ve been an uneventful day. That’s not what makes him pause, it’s you.

You’re smiling at him.

Rin blinks, his grip on the album tightening slightly. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you smile before. Not even when you were kids. You always wore a detached expression, as if you never truly acknowledged that you were living in an actual body.

But here, in this one fleeting moment captured on film, you almost look content with yourself.

Not amused, just genuinely happy.

He doesn’t know why it unsettles him. That doesn’t make it an unwelcome sight, though. Rin’s eyes linger on it for much longer than the others.

────

You are no stranger to waking up at odd hours of the night, but even this is a little much. The harsh glow of your phone screen stings your eyes as you squint at the notification. Blue light is no joke. Did Sae’s brain get switched out for a football or something while in Spain?

“It’s 2 AM on a Monday. What do you want?” you type, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

The reply comes instantly.

”? What.”

You stare at your screen, wondering why you even bother.

“It’s only 6 PM, and it’s Sunday for me,” he finally clarifies.

You shift under your blankets, debating whether this conversation is worth staying awake for. He still hasn’t answered why he’s texting you. Well, whatever. “Is Spain fun? Send me pics if you got any, I wanna see what it’s like.”

He leaves you on read.

One minute turns into two.

Then, finally, a response.

“No.”

What an asshole.

────

To everyone’s shock and horror, Sae does manage to find it in himself to take a picture of a drink he’s had served to him in Spain. He felt more than a little stupid positioning his phone and sending it to you, but maybe this is one of the few things aside from football he'd consider ‘worth it.’

────

The weight of their stares presses heavy against the back of your neck, a feeling so sharp it almost feels like stabbing pains. You grip your camera a little tighter, debating whether to just ignore them and keep walking. But something in you — stubbornness, irritation, whatever it is — makes you turn around.

“Can I help you?”

The girl in the middle tilts her head, a saccharine smile pulling at her lips though her eyes remain cold. “What are you even taking pictures of? It can’t be that interesting, right?”

Her voice is loud. Loud enough to make sure her little entourage hears every word.

Then she gasps. It’s mocking and incredibly exaggerated. Turning to her friends with barely concealed glee, she exclaims, “Wait, could it be that you’re taking pictures of people? You’re such a fucking creep!”

They burst into laughter. The sound is terribly high-pitched and shrill. You don’t get it. It’s not even that funny.

There’s nothing to say that won’t make it worse, so you turn away, walking off as if the words don’t stick to your skin like grime. You should be used to this by now. It’s nothing new. Just another moment you’ll forget about in a day or two.

Still, there’s something about it that makes you feel smaller.

A little embarrassed.

And embarrassed of being embarrassed.

────

For the first time ever, you think twice about hanging the camera around your neck.

────

You’ve always had the idea throughout your life that there was something fundamentally different about you, only making itself more apparent as time passes. To go back to when you truly didn’t care what people thought. That, you believe, is the best part of childhood.

You just want to connect with people. Why can’t you connect with them? What’s wrong with you?

At any rate, you understand this type of idealistic pandering won’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Life won’t change on a whim and this inexplicable sense of loneliness will always be a thorn in your side.

People like Dad who spout off unhelpful shit like, “just be yourself, and friends will come naturally,” are so full of themselves. Either you have enough money for people to overlook your flaws, or you’re just plain attractive enough to negate your rotten self. There is no in-between. It’s so hard to understand others and to be understood.

────

The incessant sound of your alarm ringing drills itself into your skull and it takes everything in you to lift a hand to shut it off. The moment your fingers graze the button, you let your arm fall limp against the mattress. If someone had taken a hacksaw to your limbs overnight, you’re not sure you’d even be able to tell the difference.

Your life is boring. Maybe it always was, only in the past you were able to ignore it, but somehow it feels even more intense now.

You rifle through your camera roll sometimes, flipping through old pictures of flowers, of birds, of bright faces caught mid-laughter — and you feel nothing. There’s no nostalgia, just the vague notion of having wasted your time.

… You think you’ll take the day off today.

────

With every day that passes, you feel more like simply doing nothing is the easier way to live. It’s only when you get up to fetch a glass of water that you realise how much dust has accumulated on your camera. Should you do something about it? Or, at the very least, make an attempt to clean it?

On one hand, you think it deserves attention since it’s the physical embodiment of what your life has amounted to, it’d be nice to pay it homage. On the other, you think it deserves a new owner entirely.

────

You hear Rin outside the door again.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary — he’s been coming around more often lately, though you’re not sure why. Maybe he thinks if he stays for long enough, you’ll crack and let him in. Part of you wants to be courteous and at least acknowledge his efforts, but even that feels like too much work. Perhaps if you close your eyes and let exhaustion lull you to sleep, he’ll get bored and leave.

“It’s been five months since you last were in school.”

It takes you a moment to process the words. Rin’s voice is definitely more deep, rougher than you remember. Has he been counting? You shift under your blankets, feeling your muscles ache as you push yourself up. Slowly dragging yourself out of bed, you begin to crawl towards the door because walking feels like a whole ordeal you’d rather avoid.

“Already?” In all fairness, your voice isn't any better, it’s sluggish and cracks from disuse. You rest your head against the wood. “It hasn’t been that long.”

”When are you coming back?”

You look downwards in shame, even though he can’t see it. Time seems to just slip through your fingers these days; it’s been a while since you’ve strung together a thought that feels whole. The future terrifies you. You’d rather stay and remain within the comfort of your room.

Lying, you mumble, “Soon.”

Silence.

“… Do you even want to get better?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “I’m not going to force you.”

“Not really.”

That’s answer enough.

You exhale slowly, feeling the already minuscule desire for conversation crumble completely. Talking to people about your problems is absurd and only triggers your degenerate, self-pitying mind to come up with more excuses. You think you’re ready to retreat back into bed, and let the weight of your body sink into the mattress until you disappear completely. Rin will eventually leave. He always does.

But then the door creaks open.

You don’t even have time to react before you lose your balance because the hand that was gripping the doorframe to steady yourself suddenly has nothing to hold onto.

You hit the floor with a dull thud.

A sharp, momentary pain spreads through your body but you don’t move. You just stare blankly at the floorboards, hoping to feel something beyond the exhaustion pressing down on you.

Rin stands over you. You can’t see his expression from this angle, but you can imagine he’s not thrilled with your filthy appearance.

You thought you both mutually understood why you weren’t keen on leaving the room, and you never bothered to lock the door because you assumed he knew better than to open it. Apparently, you were wrong.

It’s awkward and stiff but then Rin leans down, closer than you expect. You hear the faint tap of his phone, followed by the artificial click of a camera shutter.

Not even bothering to lift your head, you groan. “Seriously?”

His response is quite painfully obvious to have been rehearsed, his voice stilted and unnatural as he says, ”… You look terrible.”

Wow.

Unsure on whether to be flattered or offended, you simply reply with, “I know.”

The sound comes out muffled with your face still pressed against the floorboards. You don’t know why, but seeing an actual living person again after so long makes something crack inside of you.

────

News of Sae being back home doesn’t excite you. Your indisposition to this can likely be attributed to your lifestyle nowadays. You’d rather be seen as a victim in some freak accident than in your current state.

You don’t bother reaching out and neither does he.

────

The last time you were in a stadium must have been when you were a child and, evidently, it hasn’t gotten any easier.

Everything is loud. Your seats are crammed uncomfortably close to complete strangers, who are just as obnoxiously noisy as you expected. And to even get here, you had to wade through a sea of fans crowding the merch stands, everyone pushing and shoving as if their lives depended on getting a jersey first. Frankly, it disgusts you.

You almost feel embarrassed to have bothered coming to watch. The journey of leaving your house and arriving here after all that time spent indoors felt treacherous. You can’t believe you seriously used to do that all the time.

The crowd erupts into cheers as the players from both sides walk in. You quickly raise your camera before either brother notices you, snapping a picture just as they step onto the field.

On the screen, Rin looks irritated — his usual scowl only deepening as if someone’s already pissed him off. His older brother, meanwhile, is as unbothered as you remember him being.

You lower the camera and wave languidly in their direction. Rin returns the gesture, though it’s much stiffer than you expected. Trying to act tough in front of his friends, you see. Did he make friends in Blue Lock? Was that even allowed? You’re not ignorant to the controversy surrounding the project and haven’t forgotten the comments about it being a ‘glorified prison.’

Sae merely gives you a passing look.

Is he not happy to see you or something? Then again, the Itoshis aren’t exactly known for vivid facial expressions so you let it slide. It’s possible you’re overthinking things again. In a humorous way. Forget that.

Anywho, he can’t place the sole responsibility of losing contact on you. That’s what you’re going to tell yourself so the guilt doesn’t swallow you whole.

Rin was being polite by waving back but you’re sure he hates you for not checking up on him like he did for you. Sae won’t be as inclined to showing kindness and part of you feels glad about that. You fantasise about a world where they both despise you and everything you are. In this reality, they’d stand over your corpse and laugh. It’d sound like a lovely sonnet.

────

“So what did I miss? Are you a jerk now or something?” You’ve somehow managed to corner Sae after the match in the locker rooms of all places, and with what you perceive as having nothing to lose, you decide to simply talk at him as your reunion after so long. Words spill from your mouth like how oil drums pollute the ocean until it’s an unlivable vessel of darkness.

“Judging by Rin’s sudden personality switch, I’m going to guess that your reunion didn’t go as planned. Did you ignore him? Did you say anything about me? Is this what Spain does to a person? I don’t get you football players one bit.”

He is unfortunately subjected to hearing you rant further.

“—you haven’t even bothered to leave me on delivered for the past year. Can you pull your shit together and respond to me? Or at least read them?” Like a narcissistic piece of trash, you blame everything on him.

Sae scoffs, and there’s something oddly reassuring about the sound. “… Is that all you have to say to me?”

You huff out a breath, but something close to delight tugs at the corner of your lips.

It almost makes you smile.

────

The attempt to sneak up on Rin fails miserably. His head snaps toward you so fast you half-expect to hear the crack of his neck breaking. So much for being stealthy.

You huff in mild defeat and plop yourself down beside him on the cool concrete, stretching your legs out in front of you. The salty sea breeze nips at your skin but the view makes up for it. The waves roll in a steady, rhythmic fashion. The kind of sight that’s supposed to be calming.

“How are you doing these days, Rin?” you ask, voice lighter than you feel. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you after the match. Would’ve had this conversation with you earlier if I did.”

He barely reacts, just keeps his gaze fixed on something you can’t see. “It’s fine.”

That only makes you feel worse. “It’s not fine,” you see, “I feel bad about it.”

This time, he actually turns to face you. Eyes so unwavering that it hurts to look back at them. “Then don’t.”

────

You know it’s going to be tiring to clean everything up, but you’ve accepted that everything is exhausting when you’re feeling as shitty as you are. Besides, if you don’t do it today, you’ll do it eventually, so why wait?

You start with the easy things. Empty bottles, crumpled papers, things that have been sitting on your floor so long they almost feel like part of the room. As you clear them away, a nervous feeling settles in your stomach.

Your hand hovers over the mess still left behind, but instead of stopping, you keep going. You wipe down your desk, tossing away things you don’t need.

Your future seems so obvious now, you feel stupid for letting it slip your mind for even a second. Even if it’s a little short notice, you’ll have to start building your portfolio. To do that, you’ll travel around the country for a little while then see where it takes you from there.

You reach for a piece of paper and scratch these notes down. Although when you look closer, you realise it’s the back of a photograph.

────

Graduating gave you a sense of énouement, in which you wondered if your past self would be happy to hear that everything worked out in the end. Alternatively, perhaps they’d be disappointed by such a happy ending after all that misery. Who’s to say.

You think you’ve seen most of what Japan has to offer you, so it was by huge coincidence (and perhaps sheer dumb luck) that you got chosen for some fancy apprenticeship in a foreign country. Not to brag, but you’d say you’ve earned it.

Sipping on a bottle of ridiculously overpriced airport water, you let your thoughts drift to everyone’s reactions when you shared the good news.

Dad congratulated you. Sae didn’t say much, but he did offer to cover any expenses abroad so you’re pretty sure that means he cares. Rin seemed reluctant but in the end, he agreed and was happy for your sake. Even some old classmates reached out to you. You ignored every single one of them.

Your gaze flickers to the departure board. Still some time left.

You wonder how things will go with them now that they’ll be together again at Re Al. You like to think you know the Itoshis better than anybody. They won’t hold this grudge forever. If only they weren’t both idiots with the combined communication skills of a rock, you conclude. Exhibit A: when Sae told you he thought Rin’s entire attitude was simple teenage angst.

Your phone buzzes and when you pick up, Sae’s voice comes through the speaker, flat and unimpressed. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you reply, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “I decided to be considerate of the people around me and put my phone on silent for a bit.”

He glares at you coldly. At least, you’re sure he would be if you were face-to-face.

“Why? Do you miss me already?”

“…I’ll hang up on you,” he says, deadpan.

You roll your eyes. Doesn’t it ever get tiring, always having a retort ready? “Don’t be a dick. You called me, remember? Now, where’s Rin? Doesn’t he want to say something?”

There’s some muffled noise on the other end, a brief shuffling, before Rin’s quieter-than-usual voice filters through.

“Hey.”

“You good?” you snort.

“Fine.” He pauses. “When are you boarding?”

You glance at the time. “Soon,” you sigh, “Any last words before we go our separate ways?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Rin mutters. The Itoshi brothers have no tolerance for the whimsical. You worry how they’ll ever find friends outside of yourself. “You could always get a shooting gig in Spain, can’t you?”

“I could. Seriously though, I wanted to tell you—”

The airport intercom crackles to life, interrupting whatever you were about to say. “Passengers, please begin boarding for the flight.”

“Okay, I’ve got to go now. Bye.” You hang up before either of them can respond.

────

Today is like any other. Sae wakes up to the sound of his alarm (though he’s already half-awake by then). He reaches over, turns it off, and pulls himself upright. The first thing he does is open a window. He takes a deep breath, then another, to allow the coolness to seep into his lungs. He does nothing but exist in the stillness.

Then, he grabs a mat to begin his usual stretching routine. His body follows the motions automatically, years of habit making it second nature. After stretching, he transitions into some yoga. This lets himself focus entirely on the stretch of his muscle and bone. It’s the kind of discipline he enjoys. One of the few things in his life that doesn’t feel like an obligation.

Once that’s done, he meditates. This, too, is routine. It keeps him grounded before the day properly starts.

Afterwards, he drinks the salted kombucha his parents send him. Rin tends to skip this step most of the time. Sae figures it’s because his brother has less patience for anything he doesn’t deem strictly necessary.

The rest of the day is just as ordinary.

Training is the same as always, intense but predictable. A cycle. Something that repeats day after day with little variation. He doesn’t think about it too much. He prefers it that way.

By the time evening rolls around, he heads back home, showering off the sweat and exhaustion before settling down with a book. Something light, nothing that requires too much investment. The night stretches on, and eventually, he goes to bed, knowing tomorrow will be more or less the same.

And that’s fine.

He bets you’d have something to say otherwise. ‘Such monotony doesn’t fit me,’ or something like that.

From what he’s heard, you don’t enjoy staying put. The moment he thinks you’ve finally settled somewhere, you pack your bags and disappear to another country. At this point, he’s just accepted that you have the same restless tendencies as a seagull. Always migrating, never quite content with one place for too long. As admirable as that kind of lifestyle is, it sounds equally exhausting to him.

Anyways, Sae decides this book isn’t worth his time and shuts it quickly. He should’ve known better than to waste an evening on something that barely has a plot.

Like the old man he is at heart, he pulls out his phone and scrolls the news. Thanks to the wonders of algorithms, it’s mostly sports-related. He skims through a few headlines. Transfer rumours, match results, and injury reports. Most of it is either predictable or irrelevant to him, but he reads anyway, just to pass the time.

“ARTnews: Y/N L/N, Rising Star, Dies at 24.”

He blinks. Against his better judgment, Sae clicks on the article.

“The young photographer had unfortunately passed due to an accident on-site whilst shooting, sources say. After hours of surgery, the hospital regretfully notified that it was unsuccessful and Y/N was announced deceased after.

We have not yet received a formal statement from the company, however, compensation is expected to be provided for their family.”

The words don’t register at first. They exist on the screen, glaringly obvious in bold letters, yet his mind refuses to piece them together into something comprehensible. He stares at the article for what feels like an eternity, rereading it over and over again as if expecting the words to change. As if expecting someone to correct this blatant mistake.

His fingers move on their own, and without thinking he pulls up his contacts.

He doesn’t have to scroll far. Your name is the same place it’s always been, at the top. No matter how mundane, you love to tell him about every detail of your life and he supposes he’s never done anything to combat this. His finger hovers over it. He shouldn’t. He knows that. He presses it anyway.

The line rings once. Twice.

A pre-recorded message plays in your voice. “Probably busy at work. Call again at a later time, thanks.”

He tries again.

And again.

And again.

Each time he’s met with the same automated response and the same unbearable silence that follows.

His grip tightens around the phone.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

It has to be some kind of mistake, some sick joke the media pulled out of nowhere. People don’t just disappear overnight. You were just— what, last month? Last week? Complaining about how overpriced European taxis were and how your newest camera lens got scratched. And the gallery. You told him you were going to get your own exhibit at a gallery.

You can’t just forget about that.

He exhales sharply and drops his phone onto the table, suddenly unable to hold it any longer.

────

Sae can’t believe he actually subscribed to this shitty news outlet just to see if your story would get an update.

“On Monday, the company issued the following: Words cannot express our deepest apologies for the accident, causing the loss of a brilliant young mind and moreover, a human being. Changes will be made accordingly and more safety measures will be put in place to ensure a tragedy like this won’t even happen again.

Our condolences to their loved ones.”

────

Funnily enough, it doesn’t hit them until a couple of weeks after your funeral that you’re really gone.

The service had been quiet and reserved (not that you ever specified having some grandiose event should the unthinkable happen), acting more like an event that happened around them rather than to them. People offered polite condolences and time continued in tedium.

They still wait.

A notification. A missed call. Anything.

Sae finds himself checking his phone more often than he’d like to admit. Rin, too, though he’s worse at hiding it. Every so often, they catch each other doing the same thing: glancing at their screens, scrolling to your contact, staring at it before putting it away like they’d been burned.

It’s a habit that lingers for days, weeks even.

And then, one uneventful night, Sae glances at his phone out of instinct, expecting silence as per usual when it finally, finally settles in.

Nothing is coming.

There will be no more snarky complaints about the bad clients you have to work with. No more stupid “Guess where I am?” riddles followed by some ridiculous location in the middle of god knows where. You’re gone. He wonders if he had managed to convince you to stay with him in Spain back then, this wouldn’t have happened.

… Who is he kidding? You’d be miserable if you were confined to him for the rest of your life. You’d be alive.

────

The dream always starts the same way.

Rin stands in a place that feels both familiar and strange. The sky is a rather bright shade of azure blue and the horizon blurs where the sea meets the shore. The air is thick and suffocating, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. His eyes are only on you.

You stand only a short distance away, with your camera raised and the lens pointing out toward the endless ocean. The wind plays with your hair and your posture is relaxed like you have all the time in the world.

Before he can stop himself, he’s running.

“Y/N!”

You don’t react.

“Y/N, listen,” he gasps, chest heaving. He’s a pro athlete. Running over shouldn’t have been a problem but that’s the least of his concerns for now. “I’ve missed you so much. Can you come back with me? I-I’ve got my own place now.”

Something drips onto his clothes.

He disregards it completely, too desperate to get the words out before you disappear again.

“—and, and—”

His mind blanks. What was he going to say after that? The dream’s details become clearer and suddenly he sees you.

Your head tilts unnaturally to one side, like your neck can no longer support the weight. There are gaping wounds across your face, skin peeling away in places where there shouldn’t be exposed flesh. Your limbs twist at impossible angles, bent inward.

But the worst part is that you’re still smiling. The very same smile from an old photograph tucked away in a dusty album. The camera slips from your broken fingers and drops to the ground, shattering on impact. You open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out.

Rin usually wakes up after that point.

Heart pounding. Sheets damp with sweat. Chest aching like someone has their hands wrapped around his ribs and is constantly squeezing. He presses a shaking palm over his face, trying to erase the image from his memory.

All those horror movies he’s watched have clearly led to his imagination going wild over grief. That, or he needs to stop thinking about the descriptions of what they found left of you. They said your body alone couldn’t be used for visual identification. He doesn’t see the point in bringing any of this up to Sae.

[bowtiepasta]

PUMP IT UP WITH BLUE LOCK! pov: you take the boys to pilates, and let’s just say.. they’re not as tough as they look.

FEAT. oliver, sae, reo, shidou, isagi, bachira, rin

INDULGING: SFW. gif from the substance but the fic itself has nothing to do with it. est. relationships, a crackfic at times, obviously physical touch, some petnames here and there, language.

ROMY’S NOTE: I know they’re suuuper sore after and I know someone who can kiss them better (me. I’m talking about me.) these are all pretty cute but my favorites are shidou + isagi’s <3 enjoy

OLIVER AIKU ﾉ TALKS A BIG GAME BUT…

his legs shake in a downward dog, thighs tensing, arms burned from the reformer machine. the instructor corrects his form for the third time today. she reminds him, “engage your core.” — voice a stark contrast to the absolute war happening in his abs right now.

“my core is engaged,” he grits out, barely holding a plank while beads of sweat roll down his temple.

you shoot him a look from your own mat, perfectly stable in your pose. “no, it’s not.”

aiku huffs, trying to shift his weight off his trembling arms. “stop being a show-off.”

the single leg bridge was the final straw. the second he lifts one foot, his other leg betrays him, and he nearly collapses onto the machine.

you bite back a laugh. “tough guy, huh?”

aiku groans, staring up at the ceiling like it held all the answers. “next time we do this, you’re training with me on the field. see how you do on my turf, sweetheart.”

ITOSHI SAE ﾉ A BIG BABY ABOUT IT AFTER

sae was laying flat on the couch when you found him, arm draped over his eyes, the other resting limp on his stomach. he looked like he had just fought in a war. you stood in the doorway, shaking your head, watching the aftermath of one pilates class take its toll on your world-class athlete boyfriend.

you nudge his leg with your knee. “dramatic much?”

“I’m in pain.” his voice muffles against the leather as his back muscles flex beneath the jersey he chose.

you roll your eyes, walking over and settling beside him. “you’re acting like I dragged you through an obstacle course.”

sae turns his head enough to shoot you a deadpan look. “would’ve preferred that.”

you smile, reaching out to push his hair away from his face. he lets you, barely reacting except for the way his eyes flutter closed and his shoulders relax.

“you’ll survive,” you murmur, fingers trailing down to his traps, kneading lightly at the knots there.

he sighs, tension melting under your hands. you felt it before you heard it — the way his breath evened out, the weight of him sinking into the cushioning.

“not fair,” he grumbles into a throw pillow. there’s a drool stain on the corner of it where the tassels are.

you hum. “what’s not?”

“this.” he cracks an eye open, squinting at you. “putting me through hell and then acting all soft like it’ll make me forget.”

you smirk, fingers pressing a deeper into his back, earning you another quiet exhale. “will you?”

sae’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t answer. yeah.. you knew he’d be at the next class.

MIKAGE REO ﾉ ONLY FOR YOU

reo sat beside you on the edge of the studio floor, forearms resting on his knees, chest rising and falling in surprisingly steady breaths. the rest of the class were packing up, rolling up their mats and stuffing gossip down into their aritzia gym bags. he himself hadn't moved — just sat there, hands loose between his legs, like he needed a second to process.

his shirt clings to his skin, the soft fabric damp where it stretches across his chest and back. strands of violet hair sticks to his temples, beads of sweat trail down his adam’s apple before disappearing under his collar. you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to swipe across his chin, revealing a glimpse of toned abs, flushed slightly from exertion.

you lean onto his shoulder, still people watching. “penny for your thoughts?”

he let out a breath, half a laugh. “I knew it’d be hard, but damn.” he tilts his head toward you, eyes bright despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs. “can’t believe you do this for fun.”

you grin, “I like seeing you like this.”

he raises a brow. “on the brink of death?”

“all worked up,” you correct, running a hand down his arm, feeling the way his muscles still tense beneath his skin. “‘s cute.”

“always complaining,” you continue, nails tracing lazy patterns onto his wrist, “still let me drag you anyway.”

“because you whine if I don’t go.”

you gasp, smacking him. “I do not whine.”

reo side-eyes you, unimpressed. “and I quote, ‘If you love me, you’ll go to pilates with me.’”

you laugh, fingers ghosting down the back of his neck. “and? you went.”

he laughs with you. “you’re lucky I love you.”

SHIDOU RYUSEI ﾉ LIKE A WARM UP

shidou casually leans against the reception desk, one arm draped over the counter as he smirks at the instructor behind it. he was still glowing from the class, tank top clinging to his torso in a way that made it obvious how ridiculously well he’d handled everything.

unlike the rest of the guys, who had groaned and limped their way out, he looked thrilled — like he could go another round if you let him.

the receptionist, a young woman who had definitely been watching him more than necessary during class, beams. “I have to say, you were reaaally impressive for your first time.” (dragging out the syllables more than necessary. over the top customer service voice)

you scoff, knowing he was about to run with this.

shidou grins, running a hand through his damp hair. “yeah? thought I did alright.”

you groan, smacking his arm. “don’t feed into it. he already thinks he’s god’s gift to pilates.”

she ignores you, the bitch.

“you were so natural at the movements,” another instructor chimes in. “most people struggle with control at first, but you were so — what’s the word? fluid?” you throw up in your mouth a little.

he preens, grin razor-sharp, eyes flicking towards you just to rub it in. “d’you hear that, babe?”

he turns, slinging an arm around your shoulders and tugging you in, all smug and pleased with himself. “guess I’m just built different.”

you exhale through your nose, sarcasm dripping. “guess so.”

the receptionists giggle. “you should come to our advanced class sometime.”

shidou clicks his tongue, tilting his head like he was seriously considering it. “that does sound fun.” then he nudges you, voice dropping enough for only you to hear. “wouldn’t mind seeing you all worked up again.”

you shove his arm off, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “let’s go, ryu.”

he laughs, waving to the staff before catching up to you. as you walk out, he leans in,

“you jealous?”

“never letting this go, are you?” you mutter.

shidou presses a lazy kiss to your temple, smirk never fading. “never.”

ISAGI YOICHI ﾉ EMERGENCY ROOM ?!

isagi sits in the waiting room, fingers drumming lightly against the plastic armrest. you’re next to him, watching his slightly hunched posture, damp sheen of sweat still visible on his neck as he wipes a hand across his forehead. the soreness was starting to set in.

“didn’t think you’d need a visit to the ER today.”

he shoots you a sheepish grin, rubbing his side like he pulled something. “‘m fine, only overdid it a little.”

you give him a pointed look. “you were on the floor for, like, more than half of the class.”

isagi’s lips twitch, embarrassed. you could tell he wasn’t used to being out of his depth. “it wasn’t like that. I was just — uh — working on my form.”

“form?” you ruffle his hair before sitting next to him, regretting it when you realize how much sweat he really had on there. “that what we’re calling it now?”

“yeah, well..” he massages the back of his neck, eyes darting between you and the bland hospital decor. half a warning sticker is chipped off of the window next to him. “there were some moves that were a little more difficult than I thought.”

you fight a smile. “got all cocky ‘cause you’re good at soccer, huh? thought this was going to be the same?”

he laughs, it sounding akin to relief. “guess I’m not invincible after all.”

you lean back, shake your head. “you’re just human.”

isagi shifts next to you, eyes soft. “I’m learning to respect the process. even if it kicks my ass.”

“you’ll survive,” you said as the nurse calls his name from the speaker. he stands up with a groan, wincing a little while you help him up, arm around your shoulder.

“yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle. “but I’m definitely going to need a massage after this.”

“I’ll be sure to take good care of you, hero.”

his grin was back in full force. “counting on it.”

MEGURU BACHIRA ﾉ A SOCIAL EXPERIMENT

this dude. he was better than the instructors. sure, bachira didn’t know the terms nor the names of the poses, but did that stop him from replicating them immediately after demonstration? no.

you leave the studio with not only a stack of coupons, but a stack of coupons and a JOB OFFER for this man to be an instructor himself, the application forms stuffed into the complimentary tote bags given (obviously to bribe him and you to somehow accept). they also smell like a weird combination of humidifier oils. emphasis on weird.

“you know,” he starts, eyes glinting as faces you, elbows resting on the couch beside you, “I think that was the most fun I've had in forever.”

you glance at him, mental image of him doing a backbend of the reformer failing to leave your brain. “really? more fun than soccer?”

he let out a dramatic sigh, sinking into his hoodie like it was the most important decision he’d made all day. “well, soccer’s great and all, but there's something about getting all bendy and flexible that really speaks to me.” his eyes flick to your lips. “plus, I got to see you struggle. that was pretty adorable.”

you roll your eyes. “I wasn’t struggling, I was,” you reply with mock offense. “just had-”

“mhm, sure, sure,” bachira interrupts, reaching over and brushing a lock of hair from your face. “anyway, I was actually thinking.. you know, we should do this more. not pilates. well, maybe pilates, but just.. us time.” his fingers linger on your cheeks, pinching.

“us time?” you mumble, scowling while you swat his hands away. “does this mean you’re taking me to your next soccer game?”

he leans in closer, hand brushing against yours, the warmth of his skin against yours somehow feeling more familiar than anything else. his thumb traces slow, deliberate circles over your knuckles as his voice drops to a softer, more sincere tone. “I just like being with you. only you, none of the boys or anything. seriously just us. today was nice.”

“you’re a real sap, you know that?”

he chuckles, hands settling on the armrests to jump up and kiss your forehead. “only for you.”

ITOSHI RIN ﾉ LOCKER ROOM CLOWN SHOES

rin’s muscles ache in places he didn’t even know existed, and the soreness, compounded by the intensity of the soccer game earlier, was making him seriously regret not just letting you have your way with the whole pilates thing.

he leans back, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes narrowing as the pain shot through him. the guys — scattered around the locker room, were laughing and teasing as they got dressed, but it was hard to focus on them with the phone call vibrating softly in his hand.

“hey, I’m here,” rin says into the speaker, trying to sound casual, though the subtle groan in his voice gave away more than he intended. “-game just ended.”

the background noise blurs as you speak on the other end, voice soothing his exhaustion. “feeling okay?”

rin rolls his eyes, glancing over at the group making their way towards the exit. he could hear them snickering, probably about something they noticed — most likely the fact that his walk was a bit stiff, his posture not as fluid as it usually was.

“‘m fine, just sore from.. you know..” he winces, trying to stretch his arm without making a sound, though it was practically impossible to hide the discomfort. “from everything, really.”

in the background, someone — likely one of the forwards — shouts, “yo, itoshi! you good? looks like you’re getting soft.” rin pinches the bridge of his nose, a fraudulent attempt to ignore them.

you laugh, the sound clear and warm through the phone, and rin’s lips lift into a reluctant smile.

“they’re giving you a hard time?”

“they’re assholes,” he corrects, before switching the subject. “come over and take care of me later?”

romy 🐰 is typing… hi from march 16th. as of today at hour 12:15 in the afternoon I am head over heels for itoshi sae

© bowtiepasta: do not copy edit or repost anywhere

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

some of the attractive things that the blue lock men do. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu ─ content: fluff, suggestive

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[emichanted]

➷ BLUE LOCK MASTERLIST

➷ Rin Itoshi

Scary Love

Stalker!Rin (18+)

➷ Sae Itoshi

Bad Habits (18+)

➷ Chigiri Hyoma

Boyfriend!Chigiri

➷ Nagi Seishiro

Safe Space

... More Coming Soon ...

[rose-nympho]

I’ve been staring at him for so long that I feel pregnant