#blue lock oneshots

[itoshiierae]

RIP CURRENT 🌊༄.°

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: lifeguard AU!barou shoei x f!reader

ᡣ𐭩 notes: sooo… my debut nsfw one-shot on this blog is lifeguard!barou 🥵🫦 don’t even ask me how this idea came to life — i saw the vision in my head and sprinted straight to google docs like my life depended on it. this man lives in my brain rent-free and now he’s dragging me into the ocean with him too. (no lifeguard on duty for your feelings. good luck <33)

ᡣ𐭩 cw: mdni 🔞, nsfw, emotional intensity, beach setting, slow-burn, enemies to lovers, near-death/drowning scene, light fear/panic, angst → comfort, possessive behavior, slight manhandling, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, soft dominance, rough sex, “you’re mine” energy, post-rescue intimacy, messy emotions

The sun was brutal. The kind of brutal that clung to everything — skin, clothes & most of all, your patience. It was so unbearably hot that quitting almost felt like self-care.

You hated working double shifts at the beach club. Hated the endless shrieks of drunk tourists, the sour reek of salt-crusted beer, the weight of heavy trays slipping in sweaty palms. But most of all, more than sand grinding in your shoes, more than stupid influencers live-streaming in the sun — you hated him.

Barou Shoei.

The so-called King of the Beach.

The way that you spotted him almost immediately — because how could you not when he was built like a damn statue. Black hair pulled into a messy bun, red lifeguard shorts slung low on his hips as he stood shirtless near the surf, arms crossed, sunglasses low on his nose — scowling at the horizon like he owned the ocean. You hated how his presence seemed to suck the oxygen out of the beach.

──★

For the past thirty minutes, you’d been running on fumes — dodging drunk tourists, juggling drink orders, and trying not to scream every time someone called you ‘sweetheart.’ Your patience was hanging by a thread. Your uniform clung to your skin, your shoulders ached, and the tray on your arm felt like dead weight.

You barely had time to breathe, let alone think. So when you jerked your tray higher onto your shoulder and turned on your heel — you didn’t expect to crash straight into someone.

A hand caught your waist — fast, steady. Unshakable.

And of course, there he was — Barou Shoei, in all his shirtless, overconfident glory. The self-proclaimed king of the beach and unfortunately, the last person you wanted to see.

“You should watch where you’re going, waitress,” he rumbled, voice low and annoyingly amused.

“I should throw this tray at your face,” you said sweetly.

He smirked — sharp, slow, and devastating.

“You couldn’t reach.”

You hated how your face burned under his gaze. Hated how he tapped the edge of the tray with his knuckle — like as if he owned you.

“You’re slippin’,” he said, nodding toward the drinks.

“I’m fine,” you snapped.

“You sure?” he teased, voice low.

“You’re an asshole,” you muttered, turning on your heel.

His laugh came after you — slow, smug, and way too pleased with himself like he hadn’t just caught you off-guard and hadn’t just touched your waist. Almost as if he already knew that he was going to be living rent-free in your head for the rest of the shift.

“Love you too, waitress.”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around, you didn’t need to.

His stare followed you like a tide — low, slow, and full of things he hadn’t said yet. It prickled down your spine, and stayed there long after his voice faded.

You hadn’t even planned to get in the water. Not until some drunken asshole tripped you, soaking you in sticky cocktails and cheap liquor.

Furious, humiliated, dripping in sticky cocktails with shattered pride. You didn’t think. Didn’t look back. Didn’t care that the entire bar had gone dead silent — eyes on you, laughter choking in their throats. You grabbed the tray nearby with shaking hands and launched it at him — metal slicing through the air, the drinks still clattering as they flew.

You missed, of course.

Of course you did. And then you walked. No — stomped straight past the gawking tourists, past the servers frozen in place, and went straight into the ocean like it could swallow your embarrassment whole.

The water met your calves, then your thighs, but you didn’t stop until you were chest-deep — salt stinging your skin, heart pounding loud enough to drown out the noise behind you. You let yourself enjoy it — just for a second. The salt, the stillness, the rush. But then something shifted beneath you. The current wrapped around your legs like it had been waiting. And you didn’t see it coming until it was already too late.

The rip current caught your legs — sudden, sharp, unforgiving. It yanked you off balance before you could even scream, the ocean wrapping around your body like it was meant to keep you.

Panic burst in your chest — fast and brutal — your breath hitching as the water dragged you deeper. You kicked. Gasped. Fought with everything you had. But the waves didn’t care. They just kept pulling, each second felt longer than the last — your muscles burning, lungs tightening, the surface blurring into sky as salt stung your eyes and panic turning into genuine fear.

Just when you thought you couldn’t fight anymore, there he was, cutting through the waves like he’d been looking for you the whole time. The way he slammed into the water like a freight train. You barely registered the shout of your name before his arm locked around your waist — steady, overwhelming — as he carried you straight out of the water.

When you finally broke the surface, you were gasping — crying — clinging to every ounce of breath like it might slip through your fingers. You stared at him — furious, breathless, and shaking with everything you didn’t have words for. It’s true that you hated him, but he did save your life. And before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him — clinging like you’d never let go, like he was the only solid thing in a world that had just tried to swallow you whole.

"You fuckin' idiot," he muttered into your hair. "You stupid, stubborn, reckless little—”

He bit the words down — just hugging you tighter.

“You should hate me,” you rasped.

Barou let out a broken laugh.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Should. Don’t.”

“Can’t”.

And you saw it — all of it. Not the king of the beach. Not the arrogant, untouchable, insufferable man who smirked like the sun answered to him. Just Barou Shoei wrecked over you like as if saving you had unraveled something inside him he didn’t know how to put back together. Like he didn’t care who saw — as long as you did.

You tipped your chin up — eyes wide, lips parted, a silent plea written all over your face.

And Barou snapped.

He kissed you.

Hard.

Desperate.

Like he needed to stake a claim before the moment disappeared.

There was no hesitation, no gentleness — just raw panic in the shape of his mouth on yours. His hands found your waist, grounding you like he couldn’t bear another second of distance. He kissed you like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. You still tasted like ocean and near-death & the version of you he thought he might’ve lost. You gasped against his mouth, fingers tangling in the soaked fabric of his wet shirt — clutching him, anchoring yourself.

And when your lips moved with his, something cracked wide open in his chest. He groaned — low, guttural — and dragged you closer, deepening the kiss like he couldn’t get enough, like there were a thousand things he didn’t know how to say, so he said all of it this way instead.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed gently against yours — damp hair clinging to his skin, chest still heaving like he hadn’t fully caught his breath.

And the kind of silence that said everything.

His voice was low — barely more than a breath, but it landed like a punch straight to the center of you.

“You’re mine.”

Not a question.

Not a threat.

More like a vow — raw and unshakable, like it had always lived in his chest, waiting to be spoken out loud. You blinked hard, lips trembling with a smile — small, shaky, stunned but certain.

“Yours.”

The word left your mouth like it had been there all along. Always had been — even when you didn’t want it to be. Without a doubt, you knew that you were meant to be his.

Barou didn’t give you time to think, didn’t give you time to second-guess the heat still buzzing between your lips. One moment you were kissing him — breathless, clinging — the next, your feet weren’t touching the ground.

His hands were under your thighs, arms locked tight around you like you weighed nothing. His mouth ghosted over your cheek, your jaw, your shoulder — but he didn’t stop moving. He was all motion and muscle and single-minded urgency, storming across the sand with you in his arms like you were something precious he refused to lose again.

He kicked open the cabana door — hard enough to rattle the frame — and carried you straight inside like he owned the place. Then, somehow, he managed to lower you onto the bed with a kind of gentleness that didn’t match the fire still burning in his eyes.

“You got any idea,” he rasped, voice low and wrecked, crawling over you like a storm ready to break.

“How many fuckin’ times I almost grabbed you?”

You whimpered — fingers digging into his shoulders — as his mouth found the curve of your throat.

He kissed you there, open-mouthed and hungry, tongue dragging along your skin like he was tasting months of frustration.

“You — in those little skirts,” he growled, breath hot against your collarbone, “actin’ like you didn’t know what you were doin’ to me.”

His hands slid beneath your clothes — rough palms against soft skin — tugging, pulling each piece of your clothing down your body, like it offended him just for being in the way.

“Not anymore,” he growled.

And then he kissed you again — hard, filthy, teeth grazing your bottom lip as if he wanted to taste your gasp. He didn’t kiss like someone who wanted permission, he kissed like someone who’d already decided you belonged to him.

He took his time, dragging his mouth down your chest, your stomach, pausing only to mutter curses under his breath — about how soft you were, how sweet you sounded, how fucking perfect you felt under him.

He lined himself up, his tip nudging against your entrance, teasing, dragging — and you were already shaking, already breathless, your hips lifting for more without even meaning to.

“Beg,” he muttered, voice wrecked, his forehead pressing to yours.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you’re mine.”

“You know I am,” you gasped. “Barou—please.”

That was all it took.

He pushed in slowly — inch by inch — deep and overwhelming, stretching you open until you were breathless. He didn’t rush, he wanted you to feel all of it — every second, every fuckin’ inch of him inside you. And when he bottomed out, your mouth dropped open on a silent cry.

He groaned low in his throat, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel… perfect.”

He set a rhythm — slow, deep, punishing. The kind of rhythm that made your toes curl, your fingers claw at his back, your legs tighten around his waist like he was the only thing keeping you from flying apart.

“You’re mine,” he growled again, thrusts sharper now, more desperate.

“You hear me? Mine.”

You nodded through the haze, gasping his name between every roll of his hips. And when you clenched around him, barely able to speak, he buried his face in your neck and whispered—

“Say it again. Say you’re mine.”

And, you did.

Over and over — like a prayer, a plea, a promise.

And when you came, it hit you like a wave — ripping through your spine, your stomach, your chest — and you swore he kissed you like he felt it too.

He chased his release right after, driving into you with a broken sound, like he hadn’t meant for it to be this intense, this messy, this real.

──★

You didn’t drown in the ocean.

You drowned in him — in his hands, his voice, his body, his need.

And you never wanted to be saved again.

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[kxsagi]

This feels like talking to a celebrity, and I'm not even joking

Could I please request some soft, cozy, sleepy, cuddle oneshots with my bllk boys? Specifically Gagamaru, Raichi, and Kuon if it's not too much trouble?

You can add others if you like too!

I love you, you're beautiful~♡

Do I get a good grade in requests?

“𝐲𝐨𝐮’��𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡”

a/n: AAAAAAAAA STOP ILYT

you are so beautiful too, and yes you do get a good grade in requests! 

and i don't like kuon, but i will write headcanons for him just for you <3

ft. gagamaru gin, raichi kingo, kuon wataru, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael

gagamaru gin

you’re not sure how it started. one second you were bored, the next gagamaru had built an entire pillow-and-blanket fort in the living room like a six-foot-plus-tall golden retriever on a mission. 

now you’re both lying inside it, watching a nature documentary on his tablet, snuggled up under two comforters. gagamaru’s head is upside down beside yours, his long hair tickling your face. 

“those frogs look like aliens,” he says thoughtfully. 

you hum, eyes half-lidded. “you look like an alien.” 

he stares at you. “but i’m your alien.” 

you laugh, turning your head to press your nose against his cheek. “yep. stuck with you.” 

he wraps an arm around you and yawns. “good. let’s fall asleep in the frog dimension.” 

raichi jingo

“hey, don’t get the wrong idea, okay? i’m just cold,” raichi grumbles as he pulls you into his side like a human space heater. 

you snort, already settling against him. “sure. totally not because you’re clingy when you’re sleepy.” 

“i’m not clingy,” he grits out, but he’s holding you tighter now, his hand rubbing lazy circles into your shoulder. 

you press your face into his chest and feel him sigh. his voice gets softer as the minutes pass, his usual loud energy melting into something warm and quiet. 

“… you smell good,” he mutters after a while, sounding a little embarrassed. “like�� home or somethin’.” 

your heart squeezes. “you big softie.” 

“shut up and go to sleep.” 

kuon wataru

the lights are off. the TV hums in the background, and kuon has one arm around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. 

you’re half-asleep when he whispers, “hey… sorry for earlier.” 

you blink slowly. “hm?” 

“for being snappy. i had a crap day and took it out on you. i didn’t mean to.” 

you turn toward him, eyes adjusting to the dark. his brows are furrowed, voice quiet like he’s scared to wake you too much. 

you reach out, cupping his cheek. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean it.” 

he leans into your hand and kisses your palm gently, like a thank you. 

“… can we stay like this?” he asks, almost shyly. 

you nod, and he pulls you into his chest, warm and protective. nothing else is said. just soft breathing, steady arms, and forgiveness in the form of a sleepy embrace. 

isagi yoichi

it’s raining. 

not the stormy, thunder-cracking kind. just soft, steady drops tapping against the windows like a lullaby, and the world outside is painted in a sleepy grey. your living room is dim, curtains drawn halfway, only lit by the soft flicker of the TV and the quiet warmth of the man curled up beside you. 

isagi’s arm is draped around your waist lazily, his face smushed into your shoulder. the blanket you’re sharing is slipping off his side, but he’s too comfortable to fix it. his breathing is deep and steady, eyelashes fluttering with every slow inhale. 

you shift a little, tucking the blanket tighter around both of you, and he hums. "mmm... 's warm," he murmurs, eyes still shut, voice low and sleepy. 

“you’re hogging all the blanket,” you tease softly, fingers brushing his fringe away from his forehead. 

he grins without opening his eyes. "you can have my hoodie next time," he mumbles, then pulls you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. 

you rest your head on top of his, his heartbeat thumping gently against your chest. neither of you move for a long time. not when the show ends, not when the rain stops. the world feels far away, and here, in this moment, you’re okay. 

"yoichi?" 

"mm?" 

"nothing. just... love you." 

he shifts just enough to press a kiss to your collarbone. "love you more. now nap with me." 

nagi seishiro

the sun filters through the curtains in soft golden streaks. it’s barely past 9 AM, but nagi has no plans of getting up, and neither do you. 

his legs are tangled with yours, one arm draped lazily over your stomach. his white hair is sticking up in all directions, and his cheek is squished against the pillow as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. 

"you're awake?" he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. 

"kind of. you’re heavy." 

he nuzzles further into your side in response, refusing to move. “then get stronger.” 

you laugh quietly, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. he hums, eyes closing again. his hand rubs gentle circles into your hip under the blankets, and the only sound in the room is the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. 

“we should eat breakfast,” you say, but your voice is too relaxed to sound convincing. 

“no need. let’s just lie here forever.” 

you don't argue. you stay like that for another hour – no alarms, no phones, just shared warmth and the steady rhythm of nagi’s sleepy breathing as he dozes off again, this time with your hand still in his hair. 

karasu tabito

it’s past midnight when you find yourself curled up on the futon with karasu. he’s wearing an old hoodie, the one you always steal, and you’re buried in the sleeves of it now, your legs tangled together under the thick covers. 

“you ever think about how weird dreams are?” he says suddenly, voice quiet but curious, eyes watching the ceiling. 

“like what?” you murmur, sleep clinging to the edges of your voice. 

“like, last night i dreamt i was a seagull. and i was fighting another seagull over a hotdog.” 

you laugh, nose squishing into his hoodie. “you’re so dumb.” 

“i’m serious!” he grins and finally turns to face you, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. “i woke up craving hotdogs.” 

you snort, letting your head rest against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. his hand rubs gentle circles into your back, and the room falls quiet again. 

“you make everything better, you know?” he whispers after a long moment, like it’s a secret. “even the weird parts.” 

you hum, smile soft. “same to you, bird boy.” 

his laugh is muffled as he buries his face in your hair. “shut up and sleep, you menace.” 

you do. and somewhere between his heartbeat and the warmth of his hoodie, you drift off. 

itoshi rin

it’s late. the kind of late where everything is still. and rin’s room is even quieter than usual. 

he’s lying on his side, facing you, his hand hesitantly resting against your back, like he’s still not used to touching someone so close. his face is flushed just slightly in the dim glow of the nightlight, eyes soft but a little tense. 

you yawn and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, and he freezes for a second. 

“… you okay?” you mumble, half-asleep. 

“… yeah. just… i’m not used to this.” 

you open one eye and smile sleepily. “used to what?” 

“… being this close to someone,” he says honestly, barely above a whisper. “but it’s nice. don’t go anywhere.” 

your hand finds his under the blanket and you intertwine your fingers. he squeezes them, quietly. like a promise. 

itoshi sae

you’ve both been traveling all day – planes, taxis, press things. the hotel room is finally yours and the king-sized bed has never looked more inviting. 

sae throws himself face-first into the mattress. “i’m never moving again,” he says, voice muffled. 

you giggle, pulling off your shoes and flopping down beside him. “we should shower.” 

“i should sleep,” he counters. but when you roll over and face him, he opens one eye, lazily reaching out to trace his finger down your nose. “you look cute like this.” 

you nudge his arm. “like what?” 

“like you’re about to drool on the pillow.” 

you groan and bury your face in his chest. he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. 

you fall asleep like that, his chin resting on your head, his heartbeat steady, your legs tangled together, and his hand slowly stroking your back until the world fades out. 

kaiser michael

“liebling,” he says, exasperated, already buried under three blankets. “why are you not snuggling me yet. i am cold. i am dying. i am abandoned.” 

you raise an eyebrow from across the room. “you’re literally sweating.” 

“not from warmth. from heartbreak,” he declares, patting the spot beside him. 

you sigh and crawl into bed. the second you’re close enough, kaiser wraps himself around you like a starfish, long limbs trapping you in a warm cocoon of boy and blankets. 

“see? heaven,” he mumbles smugly, nose pressed against your hair. 

“you’re clingy.” 

“you love it,” he says without hesitation, pressing a sleepy kiss to your cheek. “i’m your emotional support golden retriever.” 

you try to argue, but his grip tightens and his breathing evens out before you can even get the words out. and maybe you do love it. just a little. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[bloomseishiro]

IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU  — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — during your first year, one of your friends gets rejected by itoshi rin. during your second year, another one falls victim to the same fate. the same happens this year, your current and final year of high school. is the new saying fourth time's a charm? 

itoshi rin x fem!reader. fluff, crushes :3, high school au/no blue lock au, rin got big bro issues (duh), the slightest bit of i can fix him vibes ok sue me, reader and rin are both 3rd years — wrote a part 2 due to popular request !! find it here :>

word count. 4.0k 

Itoshi Rin is an egotistical asshole. 

At least, that’s what runs through your mind as you have to comfort yet another crying friend. 

“Does he really h-hate me that much?” sniffles Akemi, blowing her nose on a tissue you gave her. “He wouldn’t even let me f-finish saying my confession.” 

“He interrupted your confession?” you repeat with indignation, though you reminded yourself you shouldn’t be surprised. Just last year, your friend Emi was rejected by Itoshi Rin. And the year before that, he rejected your friend Hana. Both were left in a similar amount of snot and tears. 

There are only three years of high school, yet Itoshi succeeded in breaking three of your friends’ hearts in such a short amount of time! 

Total asshole status. 

Akemi sighs, resting her head against your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have expected anything different, huh? Even this past Valentine’s Day, he rejected so many chocolates from so many pretty girls. I don’t know what I was thinking. He’d never like someone like me.”

“Hey!” you chide, wagging your finger at her. “Don’t say that! Itoshi is an idiot for not liking you. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

She rubs her eyes wearily, exhaling loudly as she wipes her stray tears away. “I know you’re right, but it’s just not fair. Why does he have to be so cute and perfect?”

“He’s not,” you snort. “Perfect, that is.”

Even you couldn’t deny that Itoshi was attractive, though you would never admit that to Akemi. 

She shoots you a sideways glance, raising her brow in disbelief. “Now, that’s just a lie.”

“It’s not! I had math class with him last year. He was always at the bottom of the class for tests.” 

“So he isn’t the best with his studies. That doesn’t mean he’s not perfect!” 

You groan, throwing your head back dramatically. Is being totally delusional about Itoshi Rin a criterion for liking him?

“Fawning over your crush is no way to get over him,” you say matter-of-factly. “You know what does help? Eating your lunch. Look, you haven’t even touched the food on your tray!” 

“How can I possibly eat when my heart is in disarray?” whines Akemi, sticking her tongue out at you to let you know she’s only joking. 

You shake your head with a laugh, glad she is beginning to feel better. 

“I know I’ll get over it,” she promises, a downcast look on her face as she takes a bite of rice. 

“You will,” you assure her, finishing up your meal as well. “After food, the second best way to get over heartbreak is to find a new guy to obsess over! How about that guy?” 

“Too short.”

“Him?” you point at a second year who just walked into the cafeteria. 

Akemi makes a face. “I don’t like younger guys.”

“Even if they are just one year younger?” you ask incredulously. 

“Nope.” 

You get a feeling finding another guy for her to crush on may be harder than you thought. Instead of hunting for more cute boys, you resign yourself and say, “Someone will come around.” 

“Not soon enough,” she groans, but humors you nonetheless. “I have to get to my next lesson now. Science. Gross. Thank you for helping me feel better.” 

“Anytime!” you chirp, waving goodbye as she leaves the table. “It’s no biggie.”

After all, this isn’t your first rodeo. You have had plenty of practice comforting Itoshi’s unfortunate victims. By plenty, you mean two times before, but even that is already two too many times. 

The rest of your classes go by in a blur, and after attending your club meeting, you head over to the nearby train station to begin your commute home. 

You find a spot on the train near an exit and hold on to the railing above you. Over the years, you’ve learned not to bother racing for a spot on a seat. You would never secure one in the first place, and the few times you did, there was always an elderly person looking at you, subtly glaring until you gave the seat up to them. Standing by the exit is easier, anyway. And at least it forces you to work on your core strength. 

As the train begins to move along the tracks, you begin to zone out, eyes wandering around the coach to see if anything out of the ordinary is going on. Discrete people watching has always been one of your favorite ways to pass time. 

From the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar face on a nearby seat. 

Your lip curls. Itoshi. 

“Of course he got a seat,” you mutter under your breath. 

As if he knows you’re thinking about him, Itoshi’s gaze darts over to you. Your eyes lock together and you’re immediately mortified about being caught. Without explanation, you tear yourself away and face the other side of the train. 

You decide to simply ignore him and pretend that didn’t happen. It wasn’t like he was someone who would approach you or expect you to make conversation with him, anyway.  

After avoiding that potential nuisance, the remainder of your train ride goes by smoothly. The buildings from outside melt together in a blur of grey as the constant vibrations of the train hum through you. 

It’s a comforting sensation. Despite all the bodies on the train, you can still feel a sense of peace as you focus on the ride.

Unfortunately for you, the peace is shattered when a random stranger approaches as the train begins to slow down.

His eyes are wide and he looks slightly confused as he asks you something in a language you cannot understand. 

You blink, lifting your hands in an “I don’t know” movement. With his khaki shorts and floral shirt, you have to assume this man is a tourist. 

He makes the motion of eating food and points at the exit questioningly, mouthing short phrases to help you comprehend better. Alas, you aren’t very good at charades.

“I’m so sorry, but…” you try saying slowly.

The tourist interrupts with more English and it sounds like a warble in your ears. 

At a complete loss, you look frantically around the train. There has to be someone—anyone—here who knows at least some of what he is saying. You manage to lock eyes with a middle-aged lady who shrugs at you apologetically.

“I don’t know English,” she mouths and you nod in resignation. 

Just as you are about to lose all hope, you feel a looming presence behind you. You swiftly glance back and see Itoshi approaching you and the tourist. His eyes barely flit over yours before he directs his attention to the man in front of you.

They begin speaking for a short while, both in English, and the only words you are able to catch is a brief “thank you” at the end. 

Whatever Itoshi told him must have been confirmation enough, since the tourist leaves as soon as the doors open. 

Itoshi lingers behind you even after the situation is resolved.

“Are you still pretending not to see me?” he questions.

Your eyes widen at his accusation and you shake your head in denial. “I’m not pretending to do anything. I just have nothing to say.”

“Not even a ‘thank you’?”

You finally meet his eyes to see a knowing look on his face. Your fingers toy with the hem of your skirt sheepishly, mouth forming a small ‘o’. You were so busy ignoring his presence, you almost forgot your manners. 

“You’re right. Thank you,” you acknowledge. He nods. “What was he asking for?”

“He just wanted to know if this was the closest stop to the downtown food district,” Itoshi explains as if it’s that simple. Because to him, it really is that simple.

You groan to yourself. You should have been able to use his hand gestures as context clues to figure out something as simple as that.

“You didn’t understand any of that conversation?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Seems like you’re slacking off during English class.”

Your brows furrow as you place your hand on your hip. “At least I’m not flunking all my other classes.”

Itoshi rolls his eyes at you. “I’m not flunking. I don’t have any failing grades. They’re high enough to pass at least. Barely.”

You stifle a laugh.

“You, on the other hand, can’t say the same,” he says with a small smirk. “I heard the teacher talking to you after class the other day. Something about recommending you get a tutor before the next exam?” 

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and you let out a huff. All of your grades are amazing. Expect…for that one measly subject called English. 

“How do you even know about that?” you demand, folding your arms over your chest.

Itoshi raises his brow. “Because I was there.”

You give him a blank stare.

“Seriously?” he says, voice deadpan. “I’m in the same English class as you this year.”

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling the slightest bit guilty for not noticing. In your defense, you didn’t notice much in that class to begin with. “So, maybe I do slack off during English. But that class is right after lunch and I’m so sleepy! I kinda just mentally check out the moment I step inside.”

“I can tell.”

You throw him a glare but can’t refute. “Let’s go back to talking about your bad grades instead…”

Itoshi shrugs dismissively. “It’s not like I care about those classes. They’re not important for practical usage. When will we ever need to know the quadratic formula in real life? But English, as you could see just now, obviously is important.”

“But it’s hard,” you whine.

“Maybe if you paid attention it wouldn’t be.”

You whack his arm with the sleeve of your sweater, half-hearted enough so there is no actual blow, but you figure Itoshi would get the message. 

He snorts. “Ouch. I’ve never felt more pain in my life.”

“Shut up.” 

The two of you exchanged glares 

“What are you even doing here, Itoshi? I always take this train and I’ve never seen you board with me.”

“Just Rin is fine,” he almost hisses, face growing dark hearing his surname. 

You give him a sideways glance. What’s up with this guy? “Um, you want me to call you by your first name?” 

“Yes, but not for whatever weird reason you’re thinking,” he says with an eye roll. “I don’t consider you close or a friend. I just don’t like being called by my last name.” 

Your brow raises, but you don’t push him for more information. It’s not your place to. Nor do you care enough to. This is the guy who broke three of your friends’ hearts! You shouldn’t even be having this long of a conversation with him in the first place. 

“Okay. Rin, then,” you correct yourself.

Rin nods. “Yeah. And I normally take this way home, just at a later hour. I stay late to practice more soccer.” 

“You decided not to practice today?” you ask, tilting your head in question. Everyone in school knows Itoshi Rin is the best soccer player on your highschool’s team. That, along with his annoyingly handsome looks, is what makes him so popular in the first place. “That’s surprising. Why not?”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” he dismisses, ignoring all your questions. 

You blink, wondering how so many girls were entranced by this man who can’t even hold a decent conversation. “Alright, then.” 

Rin pulls out his phone as the silence lulls over the two of you. He browses around for a while before pocketing his device and looking back at you.

“Yes?” you prompt. 

“That girl earlier today was your friend, right?” His voice is awkward as he rubs the back of his neck. “I saw her talking to you in the cafeteria.” 

“You saw her sobbing onto my shoulder, you mean?” you say dryly. “Yeah, she’s my friend. Her name is Akemi.” 

He nods, but he doesn’t look pleased. “Tell her to stop crying over me. There are no hard feelings, alright? I just don’t care to have any sort of relationship in the near future.” 

“Well, do you explain that?” you ask with a bite. “To the girls you reject?” 

Rin blows air out of his nose in annoyance, closing his eyes. “Well, obviously. I tell them I’m not interested in relationships. But then they still want to give their speech on why they like me and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even know them most of the time. It’s uncomfortable.” 

While a part of you sympathizes with him—after all, it must feel awkward to have people you barely know confess their hearts to you—a bigger part of you still feels indignation for those who get rejected.

“It’s also uncomfortable to confess to someone, you know?” you chide, but your gaze softens as you continue. “They put themselves out there, not knowing what will happen in return, and the least you can do is let them down gently.” 

“What good is false hope?” he scoffs, shaking his head bitterly. “It’s better to be direct and sharp. No point in sugarcoating things. I’ve learned that the hard way. So can they.”

You frown, looking up as the train comes to a slow stop once more. “Do you really believe that?” 

Rin doesn’t reply.

You sigh, shaking your head softly. There is no way you would be able to understand him in one train ride. Or maybe even ever. “You don’t need to sugarcoat anything, but it doesn’t take much to be kind to people. Or to show people basic human respect. Like you showed that tourist earlier. And me earlier. It was nice of you to step in.”

“Whatever.” 

You make a face, trying not to roll your eyes at his shortness. You tried to be helpful and gave him a little encouraging speech, all for him to simply not care? He really is an asshole, after all.

“Whatever yourself, Rin,” you remark snippily, gathering your belongings and heading towards the exit. “This is my stop so, bye, I guess.” 

He hesitates before walking out after you. “I’m not following you, alright? I get off here, too.” 

“Hooray for me,” you sarcastically say under your breath. 

You and Rin maneuver your way through the crowded station in silence. It isn’t a comfortable silence, but it isn’t exactly awkward either. The two of you just…existed, acutely aware of the other’s presence.

He’s certainly easier to be around when he isn’t talking, you determine. 

“How close are you to failing English?” he suddenly says, immediately affirming your belief that Itoshi Rin is better silent. 

“Did you have to remind me about that?” you groan, letting out a heavy sigh. “But to answer your question, very close.  As in, fail one more big exam and I have to repeat the class, close.” 

He whistles in disbelief. “Sucks.” 

You remain straight-faced. “Thanks for the encouragement, Rin.” 

“Am I supposed to encourage you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. Shaking his head, he sarcastically continues, “Study hard, you can do it!”

You grimace at the forced cheer in his voice. Even he looks disgusted with himself after saying that.  Squeezing your eyes shut, you try not to gag internally. “Ew. No. Please, no. Never do that again.” 

Rin snorts, but you sense a hint of amusement on his expression. “See? Being encouraging and nice and gentle is not for me.” 

“Not if you fake it like that!” you say, looking both ways before you cross the street with Rin in tow. “People will feel if you are genuine.” 

“Sure, they will.”

“They will,” you insist, shrugging off his negativity. “Try it someday, maybe.”

“Maybe if someone’s actually worth my time,” he scoffs, and you could see just how big his head really is. 

Wow, this guy really is an egotistical asshole. 

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you find someone you think is worth your time. Maybe then you’d stop being such a sourpuss!” 

“Sourpuss? What are you, a grandma?”

“Obviously not,” you retort, throwing your hands up exasperatedly, “because if I were, I’d be your elder,  then you’d have to respect me.”

Rin huffs at your dramatics. “Alright, calm down, grandma.”

Your eye twitches.

“If you fail English, will you have to stay for summer school? It’s our last year. When else are you supposed to repeat it?” 

You nod miserably. “I try not to think about it,” you sigh. “Our teacher is nice though. She said she will let me retake my past exams before the year ends and use those grades instead.”

“So all you have to do is retake all the previous tests and ace them? Easy.”

“Easy for you!” you cry, jutting your lower lip out. “You’re the top of the class! And even your accent sounds good. How unfair.”

Rin snorts at the begrudging praise. The only time you would compliment him is when it’s about his English skills. 

When the two of you reach the next intersection, you finally begin to walk opposite ways. You become confused for a moment, you’ve gotten so used to him walking beside you, you forgot he actually is on his way home and not there to accompany you to your place. 

“My house is down this way,” you state, pointing left. “I guess this is where we say goodbye?”

He nods, but before fully turning away, he says, “Do you want help?” 

“Huh?”

“With English.” Rin rolls his eyes. “What else?”

You meet his gaze slowly and cautiously, eyes narrowing. “Yes, I want help. I don’t want to fail. Why?” 

“I’m busy with soccer most days after school, but I can tutor you during lunch. And some weekends.” 

Your eyes narrow even more. Suspicious doesn’t even begin to describe how you are feeling. Rin is offering to help you? There’s no way.  

“No…” you trail off with uncertainty. “No thanks.” 

“No?” he repeats, looking at you as if you’re an idiot. Which, maybe you are. 

“No, of course not! I can’t!” you cry in disbelief. “Three of my friends have been heartbroken by you. What would they think if they saw you tutoring me?” 

“Let me guess. Maybe, ‘Good job Y/N for getting help on English from the best English speaker in the grade?”

“Nope.” 

Rin scowls. 

“Well, maybe,” you relent. It has been a while since they had a crush on him, other than Akemi, of course. Feelings of rejection and resentment should fade with time… You hope. “I know they want me to pass the class.”

“Your best chance is standing right in front of you,” he supplies nonchalantly. “The deal’s off the table tomorrow. I think I filled my kindness quota for the rest of the school year by just offering.” 

You glare at him. A quota is just ridiculous. “That’s not how it works and you know it. But…okay.” 

He waits for you to elaborate, foot impatiently tapping the sidewalk. 

Taking a deep breath, you blurt out, “I’ll accept your offer. Please, tutor me, Rin. I don’t want to fail this stupid class!”

You recall the look of relief on the tourist’s face once Rin stepped in. Rin himself didn’t even look like he was struggling to understand the man. His other grades may be subpar, but his English truly is amazing. 

He shrugs dismissively as you finally agree to take on his offer. “You won’t fail with my help. Smart choice.”

“I hope you’re right,” you sigh, not allowing yourself to feel too optimistic yet. You would need to see an improvement in your test score before you would celebrate. “Thank you, Rin.”

“Sure.” 

“Still… I need to ask,” you begin, still feeling cautious. “What is it that you want in return?”

Rin gives you a blank stare. “Nothing?”

You give him an incredulous look. “You’re going to help tutor me with nothing in return? Are you sure? You don’t want me to tutor you in other subjects? I’m good at history and math and science!”

“No, I don’t care about them. They’re useless to me.”

You scrunch your nose as he disses your more favored subjects. Math, you could agree feels pretty useless. But science certainly isn’t! You use it everyday when you do something simple like cooking an egg. And history is even more important to learn about the world and where you’re from.

“If not tutoring, then what else do you want?”

His eyebrow shoots up as he exhales loudly. “Do you want to offer me something?” 

You fold your arms over your chest. “Not exactly, no. But if you don’t want something in return, why are you offering to tutor me? Why are you being…nice?”

Rin’s gaze locks onto yours and you find yourself holding your breath as you await a response. 

After five long beats of silence, he simply says, “Maybe I think you’re someone worth my time.” 

Your eyes widen at his words, trying to interpret it in every possible way. Is he being sarcastic? Is he serious? Is he flirting? Your brain whirs a million possibilities and you feel like your head is spinning. 

As if he senses your cogs turning in overdrive, Rin gives your forehead a light flick, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Stop overthinking, grandma.”

“Hey!” You blink, rubbing the middle of your forehead. 

He looks at you expectantly. 

You sigh. “Okay, no overthinking, then. I guess I’ll just say thank you for taking the time to help me.”

“I haven’t helped you yet,” he says, waving a hand. dismissively. “You can say thanks once you pass your next English exam.”

For the first time, you feel yourself smiling at him. It turns out Rin, for reasons unbeknownst to you, really is serious about you passing the class. 

Maybe you were wrong about him. 

He is egotistical. And he is an asshole. But not all the time. There’s a strangely kind and unexpectedly caring side to him you haven’t witnessed before this. But it feels…good. You know it’s in him. And you want to help Rin bring it out of himself, again and again and again. 

“It’s getting late now, so I’ll let you go,” you say in farewell. “But thank you again for offering to tutor me. See, Rin, this means you can be nice!”

“Only if I want to be,” he scoffs, but you catch the corner of his lip lifting upwards. “Goodnight, then. Meet me at the library tomorrow? We can start your tutoring sessions then.”

“I’ll be there!” you chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Goodnight.”

You begin the rest of your walk home with your head still spinning. The road ahead is long and endless. For a moment, you stop in your tracks and chance a glance behind you. Slowly, you turn and find Rin is already looking back at you, his expression completely disarmed. 

Your eyes meet with a look of shared surprise before you both spin back around at superhuman speed. A giggle of disbelief escapes you at the strange coincidence. Why did you both look back? At each other, no less. And why did he have that sort of expression on his face?

The thud of your heart beats faster in your chest as hopeful confusion overtakes you. Is Rin feeling the same thing? you wonder. You’re not even sure what feeling this is yourself, exactly. 

You sigh to yourself, body buzzing and brain feeling like total mush. And yet, you realize you kind of  enjoy this unfamiliar feeling. 

All this adrenaline for a guy who is a serial rejector and only thinks some people are worth his time? You laugh at the audacity. 

What is Rin doing to you? 

You shake your head. Whatever it is, you know you owe it to yourself to jump in, head first, and welcome it with open arms.

[anglbunny]

Jealousy ♡ streetracer!reo

cw: smut mdni, party, girl on girl action, cheetah!reader, street racer!reo, reader's outfit is very nonexistent

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

The bass is pounding, thick and filthy in your veins, matching the heat crawling up your thighs as you stalk across the party in your skin-tight excuse of an outfit. Your skirt is barely there, your mesh top leaves your tits on display, nipples hard and begging for trouble. And you know exactly where his eyes are.

 That damn argument still burned behind your ribs. His cocky fucking smirk. The way he brushed you off in front of his little crew like you were just another groupie orbiting his spotlight. You weren’t built to chase. You ran circles around guys like him.

Like Reo Mikage.

You can feel the weight of his stare the second you step into the room. You feel it even harder after that fight—his words still clinging to your skin like oil, slick and suffocating. You don’t lose, and you don’t beg. you play dirty.

You let the girl pull you in, the one you were dancing with. Let her mouth crash into yours, wet, messy, tongues tangling as her hands slide over your body like she owns it. She palms your tits, rough, teasing through the sheer fabric until you moan into her mouth, loud, wanton, on purpose. You tilt your head back, laughing, letting her suck marks into your neck, not caring who watches.

But you know he is. You don’t even have to check. You feel the burn of Reo's jealousy from across the fucking room. Not even 30 seconds later you can feel his presence behind you, And when his hand closes around your wrist? It’s bruising.

He doesn’t say a word as he drags you away, — leaving the girl confused — through the haze of smoke and neon, into the darkened hallway where the music fades but the tension sharpens like a knife.

He slams you back against the cold wall, breathing hard, his hand snapping to your throat, pinning you there like he’s staking his claim.

“Fuckin’ done?” he growls against your ear, voice tight, teeth gritted.

You grin, lips brushing his jaw. “Why? Didn’t like the show, Mikage?” His grip tightens. His thigh shoves between your legs, grinding hard, punishing. “You want my attention that bad, huh, doll?”

You gasp, but you don’t back down. You never do.

“You’re not the only one who can play games,” you whisper, licking your lips, taunting, breathless. But you know you’ve poked the beast. Reo leans in, breath hot against your throat, voice a dark promise. “Nah, but I’m the only one who’s gonna make you beg.” And you know he means it. You barely get a breath in before Reo’s hand is up your skirt, yanking the flimsy fabric aside like it’s nothing. His fingers are rough, calloused from the wheel, slipping over your soaked panties with a low, dangerous chuckle against your ear.

“Fucking dripping, huh? Bet you wish it was her fingers, doll?” His voice is venom, laced with that bitter jealousy you were begging for. You open your mouth to snap back, but he shoves two fingers inside you, deep and fast, swallowing the moan that rips out of your throat. Your back arches, head thunking against the wall, the cold doing nothing to tame the fire crawling through your skin.

He’s ruthless, fucking you with his fingers like he’s punishing you, like he’s reminding you exactly who you belong to. You try to hold on, try to act like it doesn’t get to you, but the way he curls his fingers—fuck—you can’t help it. Your hips grind down on his hand, chasing the friction like a desperate little thing. He laughs, low and mean. “Yeah, that’s it. Thought you were a big girl, making a show for me. But look at you now. Pathetic.”

You whimper, biting your lip, nails digging into his hoodie as he drags your mesh top up, exposing your tits to the cold air, to his hungry fucking eyes. He slaps one, hard enough to sting, then soothes it with his mouth, biting down just enough to leave a mark. “You think anyone else gets to touch you like this? You think I’m gonna let you pull that stunt again?” His voice is a growl, breath hot against your nipple as his fingers pump faster, wetter, meaner.

Your head spins, moans slipping past your lips no matter how hard you try to bite them back. “You’re mine,” he hisses, grinding his cock against your thigh through his sweats, hard and angry and leaking for you. “Say it.”

You shake your head, lips curling into a defiant smile, he can’t just claim authority on you when not even an hour ago, he basically called you a lame whore, but the moment you deny it, he stops. Fingers pulling out, leaving you empty, throbbing, aching.

“You wanna be a brat, doll? Fine. I’ll leave you dripping and desperate. See how long you last before you’re crawling back to me.” Your pride crumbles faster than you want it to.

“Fuck—Reo, please…i-i’m yours!” well that was fast, you didn’t wanna but his fingers were too good. His smirk is feral. “That’s more like it.” He doesn’t even bother pulling your panties off. He rips them off, unbuckling his hands, fat cock dripping in his palm. He splits you open on his cock in one brutal thrust, hand still wrapped around your throat, cutting off just enough air to make your head spin. “You wanted my attention?” he pants into your neck, thrusting up into you like he wants to ruin you.“You got it, baby.”

And you let him. Let him fuck you rough and mean, against the wall, where anyone could hear, where the bass hides your filthy moans, your broken little pleas for more. Because at the end of the day, you love the chase. But you love when he catches you even more.

TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mihyas-dieehefrau

A/n: well... i couldn't do reqs today unfortunately, was rlly tired, sorry guys

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[narcjsistx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐒 | OS

shidou ryusei x fem reader ; words: 6.7k (6723)

plot: if there's something you love it's the relationship you have with charles, the little player of PxG. one thing you hate is shidou ryusei, the stupidest boy in the entire universe. the positive negative thing is that charles literally considers you and shidou his parents

extra: spoiler from U-20 and NEL arcs, read at your own risk!! jk, but don't read if you don't want big spoilers, and don't complain to me

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

——— FIRST

"Could you be more precise in your throw? The ball goes where it's supposed to go, but you know that a mistake of even a millimeter can make it end up with the opponent. I want you to be precise" you say sitting comfortably on your bench, legs crossed, pen in hand and a notebook resting on your knees "How exactly? Do I have to go like, wah wah and then booosh?" the boy says, sprinting across the field, moving in a way that only he understands perfectly, but that you're now more or less starting to understand "Exactly. I want more mobility from you"

Charles nods "Okay, ma mère!" he says laughing, then goes back to his training. You roll your eyes pretending to be annoyed, but you can't suppress the little smile that appears on your lips: he's been using this nickname for months now, at first it was weird, but now it almost feels strange if he calls you by your name, your real name. It's just that little by little you've become fond of the idea of playing an almost maternal role for Charles, who is actually only a few years younger than you

"Yoo! Where's my favorite boy?" says someone you recognize by their usual shrill tone of voice

Oh, and here's Charles' father figure

What a shitty choice

"Shidou!" the boy shouts running towards the blond, who ruffles his hair as soon as they get close "Usual boring training?" he asks, and you watch them from afar annoyed. You know that Shidou asks this because he knows that you are almost always the one training the ftench genius, except for the rare times Loki does it. Shidou knows you're here, otherwise he wouldn't have looked at you and smiled that usual smile he does because he knows it annoys you

"I wouldn't say boring. I improved a few things with my coach" he says, and you like how Charles defends you in front of that parasite "Improved with Y/n? Then she blinded you too with those same old training sessions..." he says, even seeming sorry for the boy "Training is stupid, all you need is practice on the field" Shidou says starting to run towards the ball, which has remained further away from them. Charles chases him, and between them begins a 1vs1 that leaves you space to hate Shidou in your thoughts

You hate how sure of himself he is, how he always wants to prove himself better than you in front of Charles and everyone in general. You simply hate Ryusei Shidou, but you have to live with the idea that the little blond only listens to you and him in the whole Blue Lock, if not sometimes even Julian Loki. The last match of the Neo Genesis League was about to start, and in a few days PxG would face Bastard Munchen, who you knew were in a bit of a critical situation due to their players. Being on par with Anri in terms of organisation, it was up to you and her to manage the training sessions that Ego administered to the players, and as a result you knew practically everything that was going on in the teams, although you had to remain impartial due to your more present commitment to the french team. You were originally supposed to end up as Chigiri's assistant coach at Manshine City, but at the last minute you asked to coach Charles, and the role was given to you straight away. Charles was not in the Blue Lock training system, he came from a french city whose name you only sometimes remembered. He would not stay here in Japan, at the end of the NEL he would leave like all the other foreign players. Your heart ached a little thinking about it, but you wanted to make him strong first and then think about the separation

When you had the recording videos of the foreign players in hand, he had immediately caught your attention. After a few training sessions together he had already started to trust you: Charles was a child, but you had 9 younger brothers at home who had always given you problems, so managing him was like walking on already studied ground

You weren't sure how Charles had come to hear only you and the other two boys, but you didn't care so much actually. The ball lands a few meters from where you're sitting, and Shidou immediately arrives and picks it up, running back into the middle of the field, but not before staring at you for a few seconds. Here comes the parasite

Shidou had been in the Blue Lock since the beginning of the project, or at least, something like that. During the match against U-20 he had played alongside Sae Itoshi, thus appearing as an enemy. But there was much more underneath

At the beginning of the project, you and Shidou were actually friends, if that's what you could call the relationship. You were the practical part of Ego and Anri, the only one who watched the games on the bench and not through a screen like them. You liked your role, as you liked exchanging a few words with the players. In the end, you had become a bit of a friend to everyone, the only girl in a myriad of boys who only had soccer and food on their minds. And when you say friend to everyone, Ryusei also falls into this category

You joked, you rooted for him, and he rooted for you when you were called up by Ego after some little mistake you made. It happened that he would spend hours and hours on the field just to talk to you while he kicked the ball; if he had some free time after training, he would ask you to get some pink dye and redo the color in his hair. It was a strange relationship, damn strange, but beautiful in your opinion. At least that was before he was muzzled into silence, tied up in a room for Rin Itoshi's safety. You knew he was deadly, but on the one hand you thought, and still think, Ego's behavior was a little excessive. And so Shidou had been "bought" by the prodigy, moved to the U-20 team and brought back to the Blue Lock only at the start of the Neo Genesis League. And from that moment, everything had changed

The first few days after his return you tried to talk to him, thinking that everything was the same as before, but he seemed to be the same but far from you. And so, gradually, you started to hate him and he started to love your annoyed face because of him. And here you are again, trying to ignore the part where you were deeply disappointed when you heard he was leaving for another team. But you preferred that to be ignored, at least by you and the entire world

“ATTENTION!” Charles shouts, and before you know it, the ball lands in your face, knocking you off the bench. You lay there confused for a few seconds, before you see the boy in your field of vision, followed by the blond who doesn't even try to hide his laughter "Maybe the throw was a little crooked, Shidou" says the french kid, looking up at the other "If that's the result, the throw was perfect!" he says laughing. You stay on the floor, this time sitting up while you rub your aching head while listening to the bullshit Shudou says

"Oh no, ma mère, are you going to die?" Charles says smiling at you, and even though you're still in pain you can't help but laugh a little at his comment "I don't think so, Charles. I'd rather someone else die" you say looking up, and immediately the little one starts laughing, but it's not the same for Ryusei, who looks down at you "I guess you're the funny one in your family" he says with a raised eyebrow "Oh trust me, I am. I don't think I can say the same about you. Months after you've been here, you still suck at making people laugh" you say, and the child's laughter becomes louder as Shidou unexpectedly offers you a hand to stand up. You were confused "Huh?" you mutter "I may not be funny, but I'm still a gentleman" he says, and from the tone of his voice it sounds damn sure. You stare at his hand for a while, before deciding that sooner or later you'll have to get up off the ground if you don't want to stay here forever. You're about to grab his hand when he removes it, putting both of them in the pockets of his track pants as he starts walking towards the exit of the infield "I'm kidding. Not that I care about manners so suddenly"

"Oh, fuck you bastard!" you say, getting up from the ground by yourself, while he has already made his way to the exit. You hear him laugh at your comment, as he raises his hand, still with his back to you, waving it "See you, family!" he says in a friendly tone, and this only makes your blood boil even more in your veins

"Mère and Dad are arguing" Charles says, looking at you amused with the usual sharp tooth sticking out of his mouth. You turn to him with a huff, picking up your notebook on the floor before going back to sit on the bench "Let's continue"

——— SECOND

"You should seriously stop eating this crap" you tell the boy, whose mouth is completely full of the pink substance "It's not my problem if you don't like it" he says, continuing to gorge on inordinate amounts of the dessert. The cafeteria is almost completely empty, except for a few other boys from PxG who are sitting in silence eating. Charles always eats sweets before going to sleep, and for a few days now he's been obsessed with a strawberry jelly of who knows what off brand. You take a sip of your tea, ignoring the kid who continues to dirty his tray. It's almost 10pm and you're tired too, today has been a particularly tiring day due to your commitments: between various training sessions and Ego who asked you at least ten times to clean the team's locker room, you've had little time to rest. And you were so damn sleepy, but you knew Charles would keep you awake even past the time he was, technically, supposed to go to his dorm to rest

As the minutes pass, the cafeteria empties. Now there are only you and the boy left, who is on his third helping of his dessert

"I think that's enough" you say taking the container from his hands, throwing it in the bin at the side of your table. You see Charles's face go white, as if you had just told him he can't play soccer "What did you just do?!" he says in shock, moving to put a hand in the bin, probably to get the rest of the portion. You look at him disgusted, taking it from his shirt to lift it up "Take that thing back and I swear tomorrow I'll ask Loki to let you train with him for a whole week"

"You really wouldn't do that. You love me too much, right ma mère?"

"I have to educate you like a mother too, don't I?"

"LEAVE ME ALONE" the kid says kicking, and you let him go because of your tiredness. You watch him tiredly as he runs towards the exit of the cafeteria, rubbing your eyes from tiredness "Charles, come back here-" you say walking towards his direction, but are surprised when you hear someone fall. You walk towards the corridor, where you see Charles on the ground and, in front of him, Shidou on the ground too

With a hint of surprise you notice how, unlike always, Shidou's hair is down instead of straight up. Blonde and pink locks fall over his face, and looking further down you notice that he, like Charles, is not wearing his usual uniform, replaced instead by a gray tank top and blue pajama pants, provided by the Blue Lock. You can't say he's not a good looking, but that's not exactly the context in which you would say that

"Ooouch" the boy says, rubbing his head, probably in pain "Oh! Shidou?" he continues, noticing the boy "I was just looking for you" the boy says, then looks up at you, smiling cheekily "You always have your mommy with you, huh?"

You glare at him, bending down to Charles' height "You okay?" you ask, and he nods "I'd be better off with the pudding still in my hands" he says, and you snort in his face, making him laugh. Shidou looks at you confused, tilting his head "What do you mean?" he asks curiously, and as much as you don't want to explain, Charles is the one who immediately takes care of answering him "She threw a whole pudding in the trash!" he says offended, and you pull his ear "It wasn't a whole pudding, there were barely two spoonfuls left to finish it! And besides, it's not good for you to eat it" you say as if to scold him, and this time too the french kid laughs. Shidou watches you, getting back on your feet and then offering a hand to Charles to get back on his feet. He offers his hand to you too, but you avoid being teased this time too and get up on your own

"You mean the pink shit Ego always puts next to the cutlery?" the boy asks, putting his hands in his pockets. Charles nods frantically "That. You've tried it too, right? It's damn good, in France we don't have-" he says, but Shidou cuts him off "That sucks" he says in a disgusted tone, making you raise your face because you wouldn't have expected a sign of collaboration

"See? If Shidou tells you that too, you should really let that shit go" you say, nodding, ruffling the boy's hair "If you say so..." he says, now defeated. You laugh internally at seeing him so saddened by something like that, but you notice how Ryusei is also holding back a laugh

Your eyes meet for a few seconds, and soon neither of you can help but laugh. Charles looks at you in confusion as you laugh, but then suddenly a genius seems to pass through his mind, "You guys are getting along great!" he says emotionally, probably because of seeing you almost always insult each other. You immediately stop laughing, tugging on his ear again “Don’t talk nonsense. Now go to sleep!” you say, and he grumbles a bit before heading off to his dorm

You and Shidou remain in the empty hallway. You look down, while he has no qualms about staring at you brazenly: typical of him, he has never felt ashamed of anything, and you don't think he'll ever start. You stare at the floor for a bit too long, to the point of looking up "You were looking for Charles earlier, weren't you?" you ask crossing your arms. He seems to think about it "Yeah. But I don't think I need it anymore" he says, but the way he says it makes you curious "What did you need?" you ask, and he puts a hand on the back of his neck "I usually ask Karasu to help me dry my hair, but he went to practice. I wanted to ask Charles but he went to sleep, from what I understand" he says

Why are you thinking what you're thinking. What the fuck is going on with you to even think about asking him?. You should seriously visit a specialist, because it is impossible that just seeing him like this has given you all this courage, so much so that it overshadows the hatred you feel for him

"What if I helped you?"

——— THIRD

You shake your hand through the boy's hair, trying to see where it's still wet. The pink strands seem more faded now that they're in front of you, and you wonder when the last time he got his signature pink color was. You don't even know how you ended up in this situation, even though you explicitly asked to help him

Maybe you missed the feeling of being close to him, but admitting it would be like a defeat for yourself. So, inside, you say that it was just a kind act in a moment of kindness. And then, Shidou is surely going through a moment of simple kindness too: according to your reasoning, he should hate you too. This is just a moment of pause between the two of you, and when you're done, everything will be the same as before: just people who can't stand each other, linked by Charles exclusively as divorced parents

"Aren't you tired?" he asks, after a long time of being silent; tired? You could literally lie down on the floor right now and fall asleep immediately "No. I'm not" you say, because admitting it would be like handing him the fact that you have a limit on a silver platter. He chuckles to himself, but you don't bother asking yourself why: after all, he's Shidou, he does a lot of things for no reason behind it. The sound of the hair dryer echoes in the boy's room for a while longer, until you feel his hair finally dry. You indulge a little in touching it, because it is definitely softer than you ever imagined. Shidou gets up from the chair, walks towards the mirror and you watch him as he touches his hair, perhaps to check it. Next to his bed you notice a hair gel lotion, probably used for the usual hairstyle. "The pink streaks have faded a bit" you say, looking at him from a distance. This time it's you who speaks, and he turns to look at you for a few seconds, then looks at himself in the mirror again "I know"

You don't know why, but asking him seems like you've opened a conversation that you have to conclude. It's strange, because you have this impression with him since he was moved to the opposing team

"Aren't you going to get your hair colored again? Aren't you going to ask Anri for the dye?" you ask, getting closer, but you immediately stop, still keeping a little distance "I haven't gotten my hair colored in a while, maybe since before the game against Blue Lock"

Your heart skips a beat. If it's like he says, he hasn't had his hair dyed since you stopped doing it. It had become a habit of yours, after all

"I see" you stammer, suddenly feeling cramped in the large room "I think I'll go to my room" you say, and you scurry toward the exit door. Your cheeks are itchy with redness, and damn, why did you suddenly have this fucking reaction? He probably didn't do it again because he's busy with NEL games, you should consider yourself less important in other people's lives.

You walk down the empty hallway towards your room, when you hear Shidou pop out of his door again "Hey" he says, and you stop without turning around "What?" you ask "Do you like more my hair down or up?" he asks

"Down" you say

"I get it. See you, mother of the child"

Damn, he hadn't lost a bit of that side he knew made your knees weak. Fuck you, Shidou Ryusei

——— FOURTH

The folder in your hands is probably begging for mercy because of how tightly you're gripping it. NEL games always excite you, but watching the two current strongest teams clash is almost legendary. PxG has finally found a worthy opponent, who is giving them quite a few problems despite having some complete geniuses in their team: Rin Itoshi, Charles, Karasu Tabito... and, as much as I hated to admit it, Shidou himself was one of the strongest

"Are you sure the current formation is okay? Having Itoshi Rin so far forward could be a disadvantage for the defense" you say without taking your eyes off the game. Loki shakes his head, sitting next to you "The further back that boy is, the better. He must become a monster" he says confidently, and you can only accept his words and stay silent. The typical passages between Charles and Shidou begin, and from afar you can't help but admire them: even though they met for the first time months ago, they had a really efficient chemical reaction, something that not even other players have managed to have with the other external players

From a distance, they really do seem to have a relationship that goes beyond trust. Maybe not quite father and son, but more like older brother and younger brother. But by now, the idea of Shidou being Charles' father figure is so ingrained in your mind that the boy himself admits it from time to time. On the one hand, however, you are happy that the person who chose the blond is Ryusei. He is wild, loud, and outspoken. Charles is the same, and he needed someone who could understand him besides you, who however played more of a role in calming him down when he was at his best. If you and Shidou weren't in such a strange relationship, maybe you could have all spent more time together with Charles

The ball goes up in the air, Raichi Jingo of Bastard Munchen jumps to catch it. Shidou does the same, ending up bumping forehead to forehead with the other player. They both fall to the ground, and you immediately understand what is about to happen. Damn, him and his temper

"Don't even try" you say, walking briskly into the field. Shidou with an annoyed face has just gotten up from the ground, and from the way he moves you understand that he wants to grab Raichi by the collar and probably punch him. He notices you when you get closer, moving his hands away from where they were about to go, at the boy's neck "Huh?" he asks perplexed, as if he doesn't know

You don't even know why you're doing it, but when you heard the referee's whistle you relived a scene you've already seen. The last time something like this happened Shidou ended up playing against Blue Lock, and your relationship was ruined. It's like watching a movie on loop, but this time you want to change it

"If you punch him you'll get a red card, and you'll be lock off. Think about it, because I don't think you want to be" you say with a serious face, but with a hint of masked pity "You know too that you are at risk here, please don't make the same mistake from months ago" you say, and he seems seriously in difficulty in front of your words

"Why do you do this?" he asks, and you can't help but feel a little awkward. You don't want to tell him you're doing it because it would hurt to see him go away from you again, because you would still have to pretend to hate him even though you know you don't, and that it's just a way of putting it into practice because of his behavior since he came back, which has made you feel bad

"Because the team needs you. You have to stay here" you say, masking your words. Shidou sighs, looks at you, Raichi, then back at you; he walks away, returning to his starting position. You breathe a sigh of relief, and as you walk back to the bench you hear the whistle that signals the continuation of the match

You walk for a nanosecond next to Charles, who doesn't even look at you; but his words reach straight to your ears

"Evidently only ma mère can handle that demon"

——— FIFTH

The boy's calm breathing makes you smile almost spontaneously: seeing Charles so calm is strange, but satisfying. The little thread of drool that stains the pillow makes the scene even more tender than it already is, and your heart hurts a little to think that these are the last hours you spend with him. Because yes, tomorrow Charles will leave

The match ended with the teams drawing, which made both teams the two strongest in the NEL, which officially, has ended. From tomorrow the Blue Lock boys will have 6 weeks off and the foreign players will return home, to their countries so far away. Charles will return to France, to his home, with his real mother and his real father

From tomorrow, you will no longer have the usual annoying blond who calls you for everything, who always seeks your attention, who loves to be chased by you, who only listens to you, or almost. From tomorrow, the corridors of the french section will no longer have the laughter of the members and the smell of their bodies. From tomorrow, one of the most important chapters of your life will close

"Look, you can go to your room if you're sleepy. I don't think you can talk to Charles anymore even if you wanted to" says Shidou, sitting on the bed next to the blond boy "Don't worry" you say

Sitting on the boy's bed, you gently caress his head. After the game he specifically asked to spend the evening with both you and Shidou, and unable to refuse, you ended up in his dorm to spend the last hours with him. You had dinner together with some street food that you had brought from outside, making the boy happy

There is an awkward silence between you, while Charles snores lightly. Today's scene is still between you, which seems like yet another thing you have to conclude between you but which remains suspended in the air, like everything

Between you, everything started but never ended. You had started a relationship that never reached a decisive point because of his move to the U-20 team. You had started to have too much confidence between you, compared to everyone else. You had started, or rather, you had started, to believe that maybe with Ryusei it wasn't just friendship. But none of this was concluded, without a definitive answer

“Fuck” you say, your thoughts feeling a little too heavy for a moment like this, which should be focused solely on the fact that Charles won’t be here soon. You almost casually run your hand over your cheeks, finding them wet. Why? What?

"What the fuck is going on?" Shidou asks from the other bed, looking at your tears that haven't gone unnoticed. You look up, then look down almost immediately. You remain silent, even though you can still feel the tears silently falling

“I asked you what the fuck is going on” the boy asks again, getting up from the bed to sit on the floor next to Charles’ bed, his face inches from your knees. You don’t dare say anything, continuing to text the boy’s head as if you weren’t crying. It's just that everything that revolves around your relationship now seems to weigh more than it has in the past few months

“You say that like you care" you say proudly, sniffling as you glance over Charles’ sleeping face. “What’s wrong with you?” he huffs, resting his cheek against your knee “Don’t you think I should say it? Oh no, you rightly don’t give a shit. I don’t think you’ve ever actually cared, so I don’t see why you should start now all of a sudden” you roll your eyes, and for the first time you find yourself seriously explaining to him what’s been on your mind since this whole situation began

"I seriously don't know what's wrong with you, since I left you've become a different person" Shidou says sighing, and just hearing him speak makes you want to bang his head against the wall until he bleeds: how stupid must he be to not have understood that you're like this because of him?. Where is the Shidou who was always explosive with you but with a touch more affection than the others? What happened to the one you thought you seriously had a crush on?

Where did go the Shidou Ryusei you knew?

"Shit, I really don't know why I'm reacting like this. It's something I'm used to now and maybe thinking that tomorrow Charles will leave I've become more sensitive..." you say laughing sarcastically, even though you still have tears on your cheeks. The blond doesn't answer, continuing to remain a few inches from your leg while the only noise is the light snoring of the boy. "Can I ask you something?" the boy suddenly says, and you look at him a little perplexed. You nod. After all, they will be the same things you have already heard, the same ones he repeats to you so as not to make the strange situation between the two of you seem so obvious

"Can you talk to me honestly for a minute? Really, I need to know what's going on in your mind. I have my own thoughts, but I don't know yours" he says in one breath "because, let's be clear, we both know we don't talk to each other like we used to" he says, resting his mind on your knee, closing the distance that had been separating you for a few minutes now. You swallow a lump of saliva that is more bitter than usual, sighing and not knowing if you really want to talk

But you have to try. It's a 50-50 job, after all

"It's just... damn, I don't even know how to explain it to you in normal terms, because I don't even know how to explain it to myself. I just know that at some point you took another path and I continued on mine, but evidently you lack that path, because you've changed... changed too much, you're not the one I knew, or at least to me. You're still Shidou Ryusei to everyone in the Blue Lock, but to me? Why do we seem like two strangers, if you never treated me like a stranger before the match with the U-20?"

And finally, a part of your heart seems to have the ability to talk to the person directly concerned about everything that has been going through your mind for months. You speak, and each word seems to come out lighter than the last. Shidou looks at you, not daring to interrupt. He looks straight into your eyes, his pinks clashing with yours; it’s a gesture you’ve done a million times before, but why does it seem more human now? Maybe because you’re talking about something important again after months of silence?

"I think it was a situation mainly generated by the rivalry, well it's obvious, you remain a Blue Lock staffer and at the time I was a striker of an enemy team" says Shidou, his calm tone betrayed by a hint of uncertainty "It was natural to do what I did when I came back. On the field it's different, they can't judge me for my personality, but with you I don't kick a ball, and that's the problem" he admits, his gaze now focused on Charles "A problem?" you ask, widening your eyes, a little perplexed by his words "It's a problem. I don't care if that fanatic Rin Itoshi calls me 'bastard' during a game, or if Karasu doesn't pass me the ball in an assist, we're on the field. There's not always a field under my feet, especially when I'm talking to you who are like a bomb that's about to explode, because of me" he continue the conversation, and you start to connect some pieces of the puzzle that is slowly being put before your eyes

Maybe the situation is really deeper than you expected from someone like him. Maybe there really is something that was done by him just for a sensible reason, but just maybe

"What are you trying to tell me?" you say directly, and you see him laugh, almost sarcastically "Oh no, I won't say that out loud. Forget it" he says. "Ryusei, please" you say, practically begging him, and his resolve seems to waver "Shit, what am I supposed to tell you, what do I care what you think of me? That I seriously had a problem with how you were going to judge me after I came back from the match? Do you understand now?"

You would like to ask him to repeat the words, saying that you didn't understand them well, but you would be lying. His words, clear and strong, have arrived so directly in your ears that you suspect he is lying, because he is absolutely not the type to say things like that. Shidou Ryusei basically admitted that he cared about your judgment? He, who has nothing in the world to care about but himself?. "Oh" you just say, not finding the right words to say what you think, because it's too much even for you who are used to having discussions like that. Shidou looks at you, and noticing your embarrassment he lets out a light laugh "Oh? Oh, okay. Continue to pretend that I haven't practically exposed the most intimate part of myself to you" he says tilting his head, resting his cheek on your thigh

"No! It's just- shit, it's more complex than I could have imagined" you say, running a hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself. You hear a light chuckle coming from the boy's direction "I'll pretend to understand. I just need to know that you hate me a little less now, or at least I hope so" he says confidently, and this time it's you who interrupts him "It's not that I hate you, I don't think I ever have actually. It's just that being pushed into a corner hurt more than it should have" you admit, feeling a little embarrassed to tell him so freely. This time he is the one who is left speechless, even though he tries to maintain the usual facade of calm. You look at each other, maybe for minutes; it seems as if, slowly, everything is having a logical thread that was missing for both of you to understand the situation completely

"Honestly, I don't want to give Charles divorced parents" Shidou says, and you laugh lightly at his joke, mentally thanking him for at least trying to make the situation lighter. "I don't think he ever had them. All parents fight" you say, returning your gaze to Charles, in the dream world; out of the corner of your eye you notice how Shidou is looking at him too, and by doing so you really do seem like a family. "Yeah. All parents fight" he repeats, and the silence that is created between you this time is decidedly less tense

"They fight because they love each other" Shidou adds, and you're a little taken aback by his statement, even though it sounds so damn innocent. But like this, in the situation you're in, he doesn't exactly play an innocent role. You sigh, moving your hand through his hair, caressing it a little uncertainly "Yeah. Because they love each other. In a way only of friendship, at least in our case" add a little hasty, while still feeling your heart beating in a way that is decidedly not just about friendship. What is this boy doing to you?

"No. Because they love each other, stop"

——— SIXTH

The already soaked handkerchief remains tightly held in your hands, yet you do everything you can not to cry in front of the boy, who for his part is completely calm if not just a little sorry "Don't do that, come on! Don't do that, ma mère" says Charles pulling your already wet cheeks "Stop it. Let me be the childish one between us for once" you say pulling him to you, trapping him in a hug while he continues to laugh. The bus is slowly filling up with all the french members, who will be returning to France in a few hours. You hug Charles, so tightly that it probably takes his breath away. You've grown so fond of him, and thinking that he won't be here this afternoon makes your heart ache. He's really become like your baby, in one way or another

"You don't have to go away and pretend you never met me, okay? You have my number and call me whenever you want, even if it's just to explain what you did in training or to tell me stupid things" you say putting your hands on his shoulders, faces facing each other. You see him nod, smiling "I get it. But you will pay the phone fee for calls overseas" he says, and you roll your eyes pretending to be annoyed, then hug him again. He has to leave, you know that I'm actually already late, but you're waiting. You wait, because you know that Shidou also wants to say goodbye to him. But where the fuck is he?

You look around, and only after a few seconds you feel someone touch your shoulder. You jump, but you see the blond at your side, one arm around your shoulders and one on the kid's shoulders, holding you close "Were you thinking of leaving without saying goodbye to your family?" he says sarcastically, and they both burst out laughing while you look at them smiling, wiping away a tear

"But really, Charles. No matter what, you have me, Shidou, you have us. You're still our little pain in the ass, but we love you" you tell the boy, and you see him smile genuinely for the first time. He nods, scratching his chubby cheek "I know, ma mère. I have a home in France as well as here in Japan, with you two. Don't tell me things I already know" he says, making you laugh. You all look at each other, and the weight of detachment seems to be a little lighter knowing that he knows he always has the two of you. You look at Charles, who suddenly turns towards Shidou "You promised me something. Do it" he says, and you look at them confused "Huh?" you say, but Shidou ignores you and looks at Charles "You'll be the first to know, don't worry about that, kiddo"

Julian Loki calls Charles. You hug for the last time, this time all together, and you say goodbye to him as he gets on the bus, trying to hold back the tears that start to fall spontaneously when the bus finally leaves. He's gone. Charles is gone

With your face even more full of tears you use the handkerchief, but it no longer has any effect. You notice later that Shidou's arm is still around your shoulders, as you walk back into the Blue Lock facility. But it's a nice feeling, with this sadness. You walk until you reach the corridor that separates the street of your room from that of the boys' dormitories, who will also leave the facility this afternoon to finally have some free time. You only now realize that you won't see Shidou for a while, just now that you have clarified

You stop, but you don't let go

“So...” he begins, keeping the hype high “Do you have anything to do on your weeks off?”

"No. I'm free practically every day"

"I think you have every day busy from now, until you get back here. Busy with me"

——— SEVENTH

— Charles, your mother is officially back with me. I'll tell you more when you get back here, but just know that I kept my promise to tell her how I feel about her. We miss you, kiddo — 18:09

delivered, not yet read

— I have to say that she kisses well too — 18:09

delivered, not yet read

[shidoglazer]

sae itoshi who can’t sleep without a sleeping mask. no matter how pitch-black it is, or how calming the atmosphere is, he cannot sleep without something stuck onto his eyes.

and how cliché, the day before one of his most important games, it’s already well past his usual bedtime that he realised he forgot his sleeping mask on the airplane. he thought about calling his manager, no— it’s childish to ask for a sleeping mask. he thought about driving out to a store, no— it’ll take too long, he won’t get enough sleep when he’s back at the hotel.

sae groaned in frustration, cursing under his breath before you called out to him.

“baby? what’s wrong?” you stepped behind him, both hands landing on his shoulders before giving them a light squeeze.

he cleared his throat, though not looking at you, eyes still stuck on his bag that certainly did not contain his sleeping mask in.

“forgot my sleeping mask on the plane. i won’t- ahem, i can’t sleep without it.” he zipped up his bag, leaning his body onto yours as one of your hands trailed up to his head, caressing it softly before you pressed a kiss onto it. “i have an idea.” you mumbled against his head, to which he cocks his head to the side to show interest.

and thats how you both landed in this position. cuddling while facing each other, but this time sae was the little spoon. your arms would wrap around him protectively, just like how he’d do with you. his face was buried into your chest, providing the darkness and the physical contact to his eyes warmly while both of his arms wrapped around your waist. to this day, he still claims that it was purely for “efficiency.” but he’d rather die then tell anyone that it was the best sleep he’d ever had in his life.

masterlist

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who specifically always demands his managers to reserve a spot for you at every single one of his games.

you always go to support him, with him insisting he needs you there as some sort of “lucky charm” (he won’t actually admit he thinks those superstitions are bullshit), so imagine his shock when he finds out that your seat is empty on the day of one of the most important games of the season—the game that will decide who gets to compete in the german cup.

it’s ten minutes before the game starts and despite his coach’s pep talk to the team, all kaiser can focus on is your empty seat and the absolute betrayal you’ve bestowed upon him, your supposed “best friend.”

he hasn’t realized it—nor will he admit it if he ever were to come to such an epiphany—stubborn as he is, but the reason as to why he does so well in games that you’re present at is because of the fact it gives him more motivation to win and impress you rather than just solely being dependent on the faces of despair from his opponents. a unique sort of euphoria that he gets whenever he can spot you jumping up and down in your seat with his number #10 jersey on, that your praise belongs to him and him only.

so when he steps out on to the field and sees that your seat is still collecting dust, he seethes silently to himself, gritting his teeth, pissed that he even called you his best friend to begin with. because what sort of friend doesn’t show up to one of the most important games in germany’s football?!

he’s still planning to win, of course. he’s michael kaiser—he’s famous for doing so. and he plans to use all his rage that you’ve caused to do so, just in spite of you.

because he’s michael kaiser, number ten of bastard mündchen. he doesn’t need your help. he never did.

(see, what he doesn’t know is that you’re simply home sick with a cold and that you’re still dressed in his jersey, just also with a sweater and bundles of blankets on top to stay warm, but regardless, you’re still watching and cheering him on from behind the tv screen. you’ve sent him some texts and voicemails telling him so, but none have received a reply back yet and you can only imagine what this drama queen has in store for you once he wins the match.)

[neeeooon]

Heey ! Could I request the Itoshi brothers, Chigiri and Ness ( if you write for him ?) reacting to their s/o petting their hair for the first time while cuddling ? like, the relationship is still pretty new =3 Thanks !!!

aww YES thank you for the request!!

when you play with their hair for the first time ;

new bf!bllk x gn!reader. cw: slight angst in ness’s

itoshi sae

-> even after officially labeling your relationship as a relationship, sae never got touchy with you, so you didn’t push your bounds and kept mostly to yourself

-> however, after watching him lose a match on live tv, you wait at his place with snacks and flowers in an attempt to surprise and cheer him up

-> when sae saw you in his living room, he immediately walked through the door and into your arms, which hesitantly opened when you realized he was going in for a hug

-> your hand moved on its own, running along the back of his head and dragging lazy fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. “sad?” you asked, arms still around him. “mad. disappointed. i don’t know yet.”

-> you were going to step away, but sae’s arms locked around your waist. “stay.” “hm?” “i like when you pet my hair. it’s nice.”

itoshi rin

-> i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, rin loves the feeling of fingers in his hair

-> you’re watching a show together on the couch, fresh in your relationship and keeping a sliver of space between one another, when you suddenly brush his bangs out of his eyes

-> rin is embarrassed to say he sighed at the sudden contact and immediately blushed. you aren’t even looking at him, your eyes trained on the screen, but he makes no sudden moves as you continue petting his head like it’s some natural thing between the two of you

-> you tried to pull your hand away when you finally realized what you were doing, but rin just turned and gave you a look that made you melt. “you don’t mind?” you asked, and he scooted closer until he was able to lay his head in your lap for you to continue playing with his hair

chigiri hyoma

-> his little “don’t touch the hair” ?? that doesn’t apply to you

-> you just finished building a pillow fort (not his idea) so you could watch romcoms together and paint your nails (why does he let you talk him into this)

-> 13 going on 30 was playing as you finished chigiri’s nails and snuggled into his side. he didn’t know if this amount of physical touch was appropriate for a relationship as new as yours, but you never seemed to care

-> arms looped lazily around his neck, chest against the side of his arm, you slowly worked your fingers through his bright red hair. at first chigiri was going to tell you no, but unlike others, you didn’t pull or knot his hair as you played with it

-> “is this okay?” you quietly asked, and he blushed when your breath hit his neck. chigiri’s nod was all you needed to cuddle back into his side and finish your movie

alexis ness

-> your heart actually breaks in your chest when your boyfriend of two months flinched at the feeling of your fingers in his hair for the first time

-> you immediately withdraw your hand. “sorry,” you say while shifting across the bed and away from him. “i should have asked first.”

-> ness looks more flustered than anything else as he smiles shyly at you. “no, it’s just… no one’s ever pet my hair before..”

-> and your heart breaks again, because your mother used to play with your hair all the time when you were a child. “do you want me to do it again?” he just nods shyly and inches closer to you, beckoning for you to continue

[glamourscat]

MAKEUP AND KISSES | Shidou Ryusei x reader

synopsis: shidou doing reader’s makeup | 657 words

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end, a reader who’s terrible at makeup

“Stop moving,” Shidou hummed, his voice low and filled with concentration.

You were sitting on your bed, straddling his lap, while he worked on your makeup. Never in your life had you seen him so focused. His tongue poked out slightly as he applied the eyeliner with the precision of someone who’d done this a thousand times. He was determined to get it perfect, especially since it had to match his own eyeliner.

The thing is, you were terrible at makeup. You tried, you really did. But no matter how hard you practiced, your skills were nowhere near his level. Your boyfriend seemed to have a natural talent for it—knowing exactly what shades to use, which brush worked best and how to make everything come together perfectly.

And no surprise there, considering he wears a killer eyeliner on a daily basis. One that stays up perfectly intact even after long hours of training or an intense 90-minute football game. Still, there was something so endearing about seeing him so happy and concentrated. Fully immersed in something so... domestic.

“I’m being still,” you huffed, keeping your eyes closed as he finished the wing on your left eye. “You’re just taking too long.”

“I’m not, you’re just impatient,” he scoffed, flicking your forehead with his finger gently. “Stop moving, or I’ll have to do it all over again. And we’re already 20 minutes late.”

“You said we weren’t late earlier,” you shot back in surprise opening your right eye. A tinge of annoyance in your tone for the little flick.

“Well, I lied,” Shidou grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Let me finish my work. Eyes up.”

You opened your left eye too, meeting his gaze fully. The look in his eyes made it hard to stay irritated. You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

“Karasu, Charles and the rest will be annoyed at us again for being late. I can already feel Karasu’s screams incoming. The air is vibrating, we should hurry up.” you say, trying to keep a straight face, not letting the laugh out.

“Nah, they can wait. I’m doing something more important right now,” he said, his grin widening as he adjusted the angle of your head to get a better view. “Besides, you think I’d miss a chance to make my pretty girl look even more stunning?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the warmth in your chest at the way he complimented you so casually.

“Okay, done,” he finally said, leaning back to admire his work. “Look at you. Damn, I outdid myself. Such a pretty doll.”

You look in the hand mirror, glancing at your reflection. Your eyeshadow was flawless, the eyeliner perfectly sharp. In a way, it was you, but you could barely recognise yourself for how subtly the changes were. You were truly glowing.

“You are really good at this,” you said, turning to him with a smile.

“I know.” He shrugged, smirking confidently. “I’m pretty talented. And now you’re gonna look even more amazing in that tight maxi skirt you have on.” He hummed, his hand instinctively going to squeeze your ass.

You rolled your eyes again, used to the gesture, but your lips found it impossible not to curl up in a resemblance of a smile. “Alright, cmon, let’s go before we’re even more late.”

Shidou’s smirk softened into a grin, his usual cocky demeanor still present but mixed with a hint of pride. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go. But don’t forget, this look’s all thanks to me. And—“ he added “it will look even prettier tonight all running down your face while w—“

“RYUSEI” you says, smacking now his ass in retaliation “Control yourself. I swear, you’re incorrigible.” You huffed. Although you were unable to hide the smirk from your face as the both of you headed out the door.

“Yes ma’am” he says amused grinning as he takes your hand dragging you along to meet the others.

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

likes, reblogs and comments welcomed <3

[hrts4nagi]

texts with streamer! bf nagi

pairing. streamer! nagi x reader (f! implied)

warnings. league mentioned 💔💔💔 some swearing, nothing crazy!!!! slight crack, slightly suggestive??? slight ooc coping after chapter 298....

csing = creep score

[kuronarnze]

Hey, i don't know if you take request but if you do....can you please write a fluff oneshot with Kaiser where Reader learns German behind his back to surprise him and then Confess to him in German?

By the way i love your writing! I was so happy to find your Account and loved reading your Kaiser and Kurona Oneshots!♡

a/n: hihi anon! Yess i do take requests, so feel free to request (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)! Omg yes i love your idea so im here for it, hehe. Aww thank you smm! You seem so sweet, i absolutely love writing kaiser and kurona oneshots, two of my favs :)), anyways thank you for requesting, and enjoy the oneshot (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+.

Michael Kaiser x Reader !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Say It Again"

You had been planning this for months—spending late nights practicing pronunciation, watching videos, and even getting Ness to help (under strict orders to keep it a secret from Kaiser). It was all for this moment.

Kaiser was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone when you called his name. "Hey, Michael?"

He glanced up, raising a brow. "Hmm?"

You swallowed your nerves, then smiled. "Ich muss dir etwas sagen." (I have to tell you something.)

For a second, Kaiser froze. His phone slipped from his fingers and landed on his lap as he blinked at you in pure shock. "What...?"

Taking a deep breath, you continued, your heart hammering. "Ich habe Deutsch gelernt, um dich zu überraschen." (I learned German to surprise you.)

Kaiser stared at you like you had just grown wings. "You—you learned German?" His voice was quieter now, filled with something unreadable.

You nodded, nervous but determined. "Ja. Und…" (Yes. And...) You took a deep breath before finally saying, "Ich liebe dich, Mihya."

Silence.

Then—Kaiser let out a breathy chuckle, running a hand through his blonde hair as a slow, genuine smile spread across his lips. "You just—" He shook his head, almost disbelieving. "You really just did that."

You bit your lip. "Did I pronounce it okay?"

Instead of answering, Kaiser stood up, closing the distance between you in one step. His hands cupped your face gently, his blue eyes shining with something soft—something vulnerable.

"You’re unbelievable," he murmured. Then, before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you.

The warmth of his lips, the way he held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world—it made every hour of studying worth it.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, grinning. "You’re sneaky, you know that?"

You laughed. "Surprised?"

"Beyond." He brushed his thumb over your cheek, his voice softer now. "Say it again."

"Say what?" you teased, already knowing what he meant.

Kaiser chuckled, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "You know what."

Smiling, you said it again—this time with all the love you felt in your heart.

"Ich liebe dich, Mihya."

And when he kissed you again, you knew he felt the same.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Thank you for reading ! Oh and also feel free to request a oneshot or whatever! (⁠｡⁠���̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[cheqorb]

Sotto Voce.

Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.

FEAT. Bastard München ensemble

NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.

You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.

And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.

Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.

Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.

Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?

… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.

He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.

“Y/N-”

You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”

He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.

────

Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.

You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.

Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!

Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.

So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.

The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.

Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.

Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.

Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!

“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”

You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.

And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.

────

The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.

Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”

That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.

“Crazy. Crazy.”

Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.

Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.

And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.

────

Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.

You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!

And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.

You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”

You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.

“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”

He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.

…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?

You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.

When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.

“And who’s going to believe you?”

────

Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.

He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.

Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.

So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.

He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.

He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.

Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”

Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.

But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”

He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.

“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”

It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.

“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.

“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”

He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.

────

“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”

You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.

Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.

“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.

They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.

“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.

Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.

You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.

You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”

Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.

There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”

You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.

[kxsagi]

Hiii can I request some domestic fluff with Kaiser, Rin, Karasu, Barou, Kunigami and Shidou!! (With fem reader and preferably daughter!) Thanks!!!

“𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫”

a/n: this is so cute!!! (had a hard time choosing a header cover image it's always a struggle ugh)

(art credits go to niko2525_er on X)

ft. kaiser michael, itoshi rin, karasu tabito, barou shoei, kunigami rensuke, shidou ryusei

kaiser michael

kaiser is the type of guy that doesn't like people seeing him as "soft." but you’ve come to realize that when it’s just the two of you at home, things are different. this is his territory, and he's comfortable in it. and right now, he's sprawled on the couch, his legs stretched out, while your daughter is perched on his chest, asking him a million questions about his day. 

“daddy, did you score a goal today?” she asks with her little hands on her hips, brows furrowed in pure curiosity. 

kaiser groans playfully, his hand moving to rub her back, clearly exhausted. "liebling, i’m on break. can i not talk about soccer for like, five minutes?" but he’s already answering her, making up an exaggerated story about how he “single-handedly” saved the game for his team. she’s eating it up, of course, nodding along like he’s some kind of soccer god. 

you watch from the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “single-handedly, huh?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

kaiser rolls his eyes but gives you a mischievous grin. “what? i’m just telling her how it is.” 

you chuckle and shake your head, picking up a snack for yourself. “right. well, i’ll believe it when i see the highlights.” 

your daughter looks between the two of you, then giggles. “mommy’s laughing at you, daddy.” 

“she always laughs at me,” kaiser says, pulling her closer and tickling her under her chin. “but guess what? i’m still the coolest.” 

she giggles, squirming, and you just stand there, watching the scene unfold. for a guy who’s always putting on a show for the public, he really lets his guard down when he’s with you two. and you’re starting to realize you wouldn’t have it any other way.

itoshi rin

you’re pretty sure rin only knows two speeds: intense or completely checked out. today is no exception as he’s sitting on the couch, eyes glued to his phone, while you and your daughter are on the floor building a lego castle. you can’t help but glance up at him every now and then, noticing the slight frown on his face as he scrolls. 

“what’s up with you?” you ask, tossing a lego piece to your daughter. 

“just dealing with some stuff for work,” rin mutters, not really looking up from his phone. “they’re asking me about new training schedules. like, i have time for that.” 

you nod, pretending to listen, but your daughter interrupts by standing up and holding a lego brick in the air. “daddy, can you make the top of the castle? it needs to be big and strong!” 

rin looks at the tower of blocks, his eyes softening for a moment. “fine, fine.” he tosses his phone aside and gets down to her level, hands moving to start building the “strongest” part of the castle. “this castle’s going to be so strong no one can break it. i’m the master builder, after all.” 

your daughter’s face lights up, impressed. “you’re the best!” 

you watch the two of them, a smirk playing on your lips. “so you’re not too busy for legos after all?” 

rin gives you a brief glance, his lips quirking up in the smallest of smiles. “family first. work can wait.” 

you’re not sure if he realizes it, but you’ve already got him wrapped around your finger. well, both of your fingers, really. 

karasu tabito

it’s early evening when you hear it: karasu’s singing. you’ve come to expect it, but it always makes you chuckle. he’s not a bad singer, but he doesn’t exactly hit every note with precision. today, he’s performing 360 by charli xcx while stirring the spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. 

your daughter is standing on the counter, pretending to hold a microphone, and trying her best to mimic him. her tiny voice, though off-key, blends with his in a ridiculous harmony. karasu doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seems to be encouraging it, gesturing for her to hit the notes with him. you can’t help but laugh as you walk into the kitchen. 

“what are you two doing?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe with an amused look. 

“we’re having a brat concert!” karasu says, giving you a dramatic bow. “you should join us, babe.” 

you laugh, shaking your head. “do you even know the lyrics?” 

he pauses, looking genuinely confused. “am i singing 365 instead?” 

you smile and walk over, putting a hand on his shoulder as your daughter finishes her little song. “no, it sounds great. especially that unexpected high note she hit.” 

karasu looks at her, clearly impressed. “maybe we should start a band.” 

“yes! i’m gonna be the lead singer!” your daughter announces enthusiastically. 

karasu laughs, lifting her off the counter and spinning her around. “sure thing. i’m the guitarist, and mom is... our manager. deal?” 

you roll your eyes but smile. “deal. but only if i get a cut of the profits.”

barou shoei

you’re curled up on the couch with a book when you hear it: the unmistakable sound of your daughter arguing with barou. at first, it’s quiet, but then she starts raising her voice, demanding something from him. 

“daddy, i want the blue marker!” she exclaims. 

“no way. the red one is better,” barou responds, his voice a little too firm for a “marker disagreement.” 

you decide to intervene, but when you stand up, you see barou holding the blue marker high above his head, and your daughter is jumping, trying to reach it. both of them are so focused on their little back-and-forth that neither notices you. 

“guys,” you call out, trying not to laugh. 

barou glances over at you, then at his daughter, and you can see the tiniest bit of guilt flicker in his eyes. “she’s too small to appreciate quality.” 

“the blue marker is better for drawing hearts!” your daughter retorts, her arms still flailing in an attempt to reach it. 

you walk over, taking the blue marker from barou’s hand and passing it to your daughter. “there. see? problem solved.” 

barou rolls his eyes. “fine, but i’m still saying red is superior.” 

you smirk at him. “right. that’s because red is totally your ‘thing.’” 

he leans back against the couch with a huff. “don’t start with me.” 

your daughter smiles, holding up the marker like a trophy. “blue is the best.” 

barou looks at her for a second before sighing in defeat. “whatever you say, princess.” 

you sit back down with a smile. “you’re whipped, huh?” 

“shut up,” he grumbles, but there's a warmth in his voice that makes it clear he’s totally okay with it. 

kunigami rensuke

kunigami's the type of guy who’s overly organized, so you shouldn’t be surprised when you walk into the living room to see him organizing your daughter's toys. but the sight of him, sitting on the floor, glasses on, carefully arranging stuffed animals by size, still catches you off guard. he's so serious about it too, muttering under his breath as he moves things around like he's running a tight ship. 

"you know, they're just toys," you say, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. 

he looks up, not even a little fazed. "they need structure. this place is a disaster." 

your daughter, sitting on the couch with a piece of chocolate on her face, watches him in silence before turning to you. "why’s daddy organizing the toys like that?" 

you walk over and sit next to her, trying to hold in your laughter. "he’s making sure they're all in the right place so we don’t lose any, sweetie." 

kunigami stands up, dusting off his hands like he’s just completed a major project. “there. everything is in order now.” 

your daughter stands up, takes one look at the neatly organized toys, and immediately starts dumping them back out in a chaotic pile. "i think it looks better this way!" 

kunigami stares at the mess for a moment, blinking slowly. then he sighs and sits next to her. “you’re killing me.” 

“welcome to parenthood,” you say with a grin, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “it’s never going to stay perfect.” 

he lets out a long, exaggerated breath and looks at you with a smirk. “at least i tried.”

shidou ryusei

it’s one of those days when you and shidou just decide to have a lazy morning. you’re lounging in bed, half-watching tv, while your daughter is bouncing around in the living room, singing to herself. at one point, she runs in, her tiny voice high-pitched with excitement. 

“mommy! daddy! look, i made a fort!” 

you and shidou exchange a glance, both of you trying to hold in your laughter. he’s the type to go along with her crazy ideas just to make her happy, and you know he’s secretly enjoying it. 

“a fort?” shidou says, raising an eyebrow. “you know, if i’m going in there, it better be epic.” 

she drags him into the living room, where a massive pile of cushions and blankets is now a makeshift fortress. shidou crouches down, pretending to be skeptical, but you can see the glint of amusement in his eyes. 

“this fort better have snacks,” he says, sitting down inside it. 

your daughter nods enthusiastically. “there’s a secret snack stash!” 

you lean against the doorway, watching the scene unfold. shidou looks up at you, grinning. “maybe i’ll stay in here forever. no one can get me.” 

you laugh softly. “i don’t know if it’s big enough for both of you.” 

he leans back dramatically, wrapping himself in the blankets. “it’s a fortress, babe. it’s got room for all of us.” 

your daughter plops down beside him, proud of her creation. “we’re going to live here forever!” 

and as the two of them start bickering over who gets the “best spot” in the fort, you realize that maybe they’re right – this little fort could be their own perfect world. and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[bloomseishiro]

LOCKED OFF — NAGI SEISHIRO

౨ৎ — after returning from blue lock earlier than expected, nagi feels emotions of anger and despair for one of the first times in his life. thankfully, he at least has you to lean on.  

nagi seishiro x reader. fluff, established relationship, not spoiler free!!, nagi is taller than reader, just a small comfort drabble

a/n. has this been done already ?? probably HAHA but we all need more comfort after ch302 AND no more episode nagi?!?!!! ;-; hugs all around

You would think that reuniting with your boyfriend after months of being apart would be a joyous occasion, but for both you and Nagi, it was anything but. 

On the screen, you cheered him on in the U-20 match, going so far as to make t-shirts that said, “Nice to meet you Japan” on the front and distributing them to your classmates in school after the Blue Lock Eleven won. 

During Nagi’s downtime, he would use his phone to play his gacha games and watch videos, but also check in on you, giving small updates about his day and asking about yours. Even through the phone, you could see how much more invested he became playing soccer. Though he wouldn’t admit it at the time, you thought Nagi was enjoying himself there with Reo and his new friends. And that made you happy. 

But now, when he was here in front of you, the rush of happiness you felt at finally being about to hug him and hold him again was crushed the moment a few stray tears trickled down his face. 

“Sei,” you murmur softly, surprised as he buries his head into his hands and grits his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

Nagi shakes his head in defeat and you reach out slowly, gently stroking his hair in a continuous motion. There are no words you can say to help him feel better, but you hope that showing Nagi you’re there for him helps ease his frustration, if only a little. 

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” he sighs after more tears stream down his face. “Cleaning up will be a pain.”

You chuckle lightly, amused that is his most pressing concern at the moment. Wiping a droplet from his cheekbone, you say, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you clean up. So cry as much as you need, okay?”

He nods, shooting you a thankful look amidst his feelings of sadness. The glassiness in his eyes makes your breath hitch— He looks like a puppy that had just been kicked. You want to wrap him up in your arms and promise him everything will be okay, that he will return to Blue Lock like he wishes, but you know better than to cheer someone up through baseless words. 

You love being Nagi’s partner, but you recognize he has a lot of growing up to do. All you can do is be patient and support him through the process. 

“I want to say I quit soccer,” he says quietly, after moments of silence pass between the two of you. “I was to give it up forever and forget about it. But…I can’t.”

Taking his hand, you interlace your fingers between his and nod encouragingly. “You had fun playing soccer over there. With Reo. With Isagi. Do you enjoy playing it on your own?”

Nagi shrugs, face rubbed red but the wetness in his eyes finally showed signs of stopping. “I don’t know yet. I think so. But right now I just want to make it back to them.”

You smile sadly as he plops his head onto your shoulder. “I believe in you. That Wild Card person was able to make it back, right?”

“Kunigami,” confirms Nagi. “Yes. But I don’t think I want to make it back like that.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you push, “You don’t?”

“No.” He straightens, no longer leaning his head on you, but making sure your hands are still interlocked. “I don’t know how yet. Is that ridiculous?”

“Of course not, Sei!” you say indignantly. “You’ll figure out a way! We can figure out a way.”

Nagi’s gaze locks onto yours. His eyes are tired and weary, but it was better than how lifeless and void of emotion they looked when you first saw him back home. Now, with you by his side, there is the hint of hope in his eyes. 

“Choki can help, too,” you chime in, giving him a small side hug. “Both of us missed you while you were gone.”

He envelopes your body into a fuller embrace, his large frame engulfing yours as he just stood there and took in your presence. “I missed you, too. Thanks for cheering me on. I’m sorry I let you and Choki down.”

“Sei!” you scold, looking up at him with a fiery glint in your eye. “You did not let anyone down. You are talented and amazing and, one day, you are going to kick Ego’s ass and make him eat dirt for all he said to you!”

Nagi lets out a noise of surprise, a grateful expression on his face. “You sound so sure of that.”

“I am,” you say confidently. “Because Japan hasn’t finished getting to know Nagi Seishiro just yet.” 

[anglbnny]

Tequila like Tension ♡ Sae Itoshi

cw: smut mdni, exes hooking up, teaser for a potential series

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

The music is loud but maybe your thoughts are louder. Correction. Drunk thoughts. Because if you were in your right mind you wouldn’t even dare think about letting sae fucking itoshi tear your clothes off of you. But here you are, staring back at him from across the vip lounge. 

Throwing back a drink as he watches you, swirling his. He looks like ruin, temptation, like the only thing he’s here to do is ruin your life. And frankly, you might just let him cause fuck. 

It’s not long until he’s walking across, standing infront of you. No words are exchanged but everything’s been decided. Your arms are wrapped around his neck before your brain even processes anything. His are on your waist, then back and then on your ass. 

You end up at a fancy ass hotel somehow. Underneath him. Underneath your ex boyfriend, exactly the opposite of what you said you won’t do. But is your head even working as his soft lips trail down your body like they did years ago when you were his. 

The way his large hands glide up, grope you and flip you over to give a perfect view of your round ass. It’s clumsy. Hushed. Gentle, almost, until it’s not. He grabs your waist tighter than he means to. His lips linger on your neck too long. He mutters your name like it’s a question, then a curse, then a prayer.

His cock is lined against your cunt, pushing inch by inch inside until he’s buried inside. Warm and tight. He hold back, fingers digging into your skin. He moves his hips, thrusting in, the slow, soft thrusts turn into mean, angry pounds. Your back is arching, his fingers run down your spine, then his lips. He groans, hips slapping against the red skin of your ass. For a split second. It almost feels real. 

Almost. 

You bite your lip, fingers tangled in the sheets. Sae swears under his breath. The kind of breathy, desperate groan you’ll hear in your dreams for months.

He finishes with a low gasp of your name, but something in you breaks when he says it again, softer this time. Like he’s apologizing.

And maybe he is. Or maybe he’s making you believe he is. 

The next morning, he’s gone. Just a note on the pillow:

“Don’t fall too hard.

– S.”

Taglist:@samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella

A/n: MAYBE a litllleee sneak peak for a future seriest

ꨄ︎Anglbnny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[fumiscripts]

✦ BIRTHDAY PRINCESS

✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader

✦ content:: coming back from an overseas match, kaiser didn't expect to find you literally slide towards him to greet him for his birthday

fluff/crack, 1580 words

additional:: reader has ZERO shame, affectionate asf reader, slight suggestive joke but it's so corny we js ignore it, loving kaiser so hard he almost freaks out but the keyword is almost, author did not know what she was doing, semi-rushed ending but that's because author wanted to clutch this for his birthday, swearing warning though I believe people are already used to that

You had a card up your sleeve.

No, seriously. You had a card up your sleeve at the moment. Not a playing card, though. It was a birthday card. For who? Your not-so-lovely boyfriend: Michael Kaiser. Well, now that you think of it, you did have another card up your sleeve. You planned to be a little devious. Just a little. You swear you won't be a public nuisance by doing this.

It's December 24th, a few minutes before midnight. You were in a private lobby of an airport, equipped with a portable speaker and a semi-charged phone, waiting for Kaiser— who was returning from an overseas match— just so you could drive him back home and make him your passenger prince, as a sign of affection, of course.

You kept looking around, staring at the signs that showed flights, waiting for his flight's status to turn to ‘arrived’. It's been a good few hours of waiting, already. You swore you got here right when the sun finished setting. This shit is taking forever. Then again, it was the holidays, so it's to be expected that places like the airport were bustling with people and fully booked flights, which might be the cause of delays.

Right as you thought you might crash out from waiting, they finally announced the planet's arrival. You ascended in joy, proceeding to basically cheer to the heavens above inwardly. You burnt holes into the door of the lobby with just your gaze, going back to your plan of totally not embarrassing both of you in front of the team.

The entrance handle twisted, and the door opened. You see the iconic blond and blue locks as he walks through, and you're filled with familiarity. On cue, you press the play button on your phone, making his eyes snap to you as the audio plays obnoxiously loud through the room.

You catch a brief glimpse of a judgemental expression on Kaiser's face. He barely had any time to ask you what in the actual hell you were doing, before you were already sliding to him on your knees, in sync with the lyrics from the song that blasted from the speakers connected to your phone

“THERE GOES MY BABYYYY.”

“What the fuck–?” his curse was cut off by you making contact with him. He was utterly flabbergasted, and you were just calmly latching onto his torso, just like the clip of this trend you were referencing. Kaiser suddenly grows aware of what was going on, as well as his surroundings, and he suddenly felt like hissing and thrashing away from you like an angry cat that did not want to be picked up.

You were not letting go, though.

With your arms wrapped around his waist, you were completely content with staying like that beside him. He was comfortable to hold, anyway.

Yes, you were just completely ignoring the way he was attempting to peel you off of him like you were some disgusting tick that clung to him. You could tell some of his teammates in the room were staring at you two, too, but you could care less. Hey! At least you didn't do this in public public, right?

You acquired a minor bruise on your side because of that little stunt.

Kaiser accidentally kicked you while trying to shake you off of him. But you could say it was worth it. You wanted to try the trend on him, but he didn't agree like the killjoy he was, saying that ‘he wasn't gonna entertain any of your fantasies about being able to hold him like that, even though that desperate display might be amusing.’ This was the only opportunity you could think of. You definitely had no other choice, so fuck it, you went ball and did it.

Now, he was staring at you— practically scolding you silently. You smiled it off because you were just a chill guy. “I have another card up my sleeve,” you remarked. That sentence alone had him debating whether to question how he was into you or to play along. Kaiser decided to do both, with the former being to himself, and the latter being what he did to you.

“Don't you dare pull some weird shit,” he muttered under his breath, sounding a bit exasperated, before sighing and replying more forwardly. “And that is?” Kaiser prompted, waiting for you to reveal whatever you wanted to show him now. He watches you reach into your sleeve, pulling out an actual card. You took his hand, planting the parchment into his palm— facing down— before retracting your arms, wearing an innocent smile in your face that just screamed mischief.

He looked back and forth between you and the letter in his hands, like you just handed him a ticking bomb. “It's a card for you. Open it,” you urged, and Kaiser could notice how enthusiastic you were, eager to see him read whatever was written. He hesitantly turned his gaze back down at it, unfolding and reading it, purposefully not out loud because he just knows it’s some bizzare freak.

Happy Birth ay!

I’ll give you the d later. ;)

These words were bolded. Kaiser’s eyes went back to you— still smiling with faux innocence— and stared at you disapprovingly, as if you were some abnormality. “...What the fuck?” he asks, making you grin wider in your successful tomfoolery. It was too late for this— or rather, too early. It's already 12 in the morning.

“Isn’t it amazing?” you comment, being met with the card being thrown to you, lightly making contact with your face. You gasped in overdramatic offence, easily catching the piece of paper. “Wow, you have no taste in absolute art,” you remark, leading to Kaiser sneering at you.

“I do. You're the one who doesn't,” he replied, heading away from you and to the exit of the airport, acting like he doesn't know you once passing by a more crowded area. He wasn't gonna associate with your weirdness. 

You went after him with the straightest face you could muster. You were nonchalant like that.

Going to his car, he raised an eyebrow when you led him towards the side where the passenger seat was. He was skeptical about you driving. Who can blame him? He rarely sees you drive, plus it's late at night— though he figures you were less tired than him for still being this energetic. He can trust you with not crashing the car this one time, maybe.

You opened the door for him, really putting in effort into making sure he had full service. Inside the vehicle, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of blue roses on the seat. Then, he notices the little crocheted dog plushie beside it. He turns to look at you, a smirk etching on his face, but you could tell it almost resembled a genuine smile. “You've outdone yourself, huh? I'll give you an A for actually pulling this off.”

“How generous of you,” you say in return, gently closing the car door after him. Once you were in the car, yourself, you started the engine, doing all the necessary safety shit like buckling in your seatbelt and whatnot.

When you turned over to where Kaiser was, he was staring at you. Not in the cute affectionate way, more like he was observing you. “Don’t crash,” he instructs after a short, silent staring contest. You simply smile innocently in return— you've been doing that a lot for a while now— and look back to the steering wheel, putting your hand on it and stepping on the pedal.

How fortunate. You can actually drive decently. Enough to bring you two safely from one point to another.

The plush and flowers were placed on his lap, and he found himself fiddling with the blue petals. Usually, he hates surprises. As well as presents. But coming from you, he supposes it's an exception. It might even be endearing. But perhaps that was just his personal bias due to being your boyfriend.

Kaiser leans on the car window, feeling the cool glass against his skin. You could almost feel those azure eyes watching you while you navigate through the streets, but you kept your own on the road. You could see how his gaze is almost soft, and how the mask of confidence and self-assurance he refused to not wear around others wasn't plastered on his face. You could tell that it was a sight that only you had the privilege of seeing.

It was nice to see him be like this— genuine without hiding behind a constructed facade. It might be cheesy, but you’d forever cherish the way he willingly lets his guard down around you. You could say that that's one of the reasons you like to do things for him.

And to him, having you— someone he found himself genuinely trusting— around was alike to having found a solace. Like a place of refuge. Whenever it was just you and him, he didn't have to be Kaiser: the German prodigy, a football star. He could just be Michael.

Plus, though he might never admit it to you nor himself, he's found himself starting to like the way you give him affection. He's been deprived of it for too long, and you're willing and ready to give it to him with warmth. 

Maybe he could get used to gifts— especially when it's coming from you.

(a/n):: I can't do this I love him sm ANW happy birthday Kaiser ml my pretty wife <33 and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

taglist: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.