#bluelock fanfiction

[manias-wordcount]

Can u do a fanfic or headcanon for Rin itoshi. Reader has a calm collected personality like him. However she is not a full fledged introvert like him, she ismore of an ambivert typically. he is a brooding guy with a cold, aloof and aggressive personality while she is slightly opposite because she is more kind, friendly, gentle, soft spoken and rarely expresses anger. Sometimes she is a bit overly nice to Rin. He keeps on expressing annoyance to her but she continues being kind and gentle to him.

Focus (Rin Itoshi x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗰 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗴𝘂𝘆 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It doesn’t happen all the time. But it happens enough.

  It happens enough that others are starting to take notice when he’s lost in thought. It happens enough that others are starting to predict when it will occur. When he’s in one of his moods. When he’s in one of his funks. When his ears refuse to listen to what he needs it to. When his body refuses to do what he tells it to do. When his mind refuses to think about what he wants it to think about. When his mind refuses to do anything. Absolutely anything- but think of you. 

  Hi, Itoshi!  Let me know if you need anything, Itoshi!  Everything okay, Itoshi?  Hey, Itoshi!  How are you, Itoshi?

  You’re awful for him.

  It’s the conclusion he comes to while he’s sitting on a bench on the side of the soccer field. It’s off-season right now. That means no one is here with him. No one is here to get stronger with him. No one is here to get faster with him. No one is here to get better with him. Not right now. And not ever, really. Because no one wants to rise to the top as much as much as he does. No one trains as much as he does. No one wants it as much as he does. Not even the second most dedicated player on his high school soccer team. Not even him. And yet…

  Hi, Itoshi!  Let me know if you need anything, Itoshi!  Everything okay, Itoshi? Hey, Itoshi!  How are you, Itoshi?

  He can’t focus. He can’t focus because his mind is busy. Because his mind is reeling. Because his mind is on you.

  Truth is, you’re not one special. You’re supposed to be no one special. You’re little more than the prettiest, most sensible girl in the class. You’re little more than the girl who faithfully checks in on him, every now and then. The girl who watches from the sidelines for a couple minutes of each of his games. The girl who will sometimes help out at his practices because everyone thinks you’re pretty.

  But you’re the girl who smiles so softly at him, even when he snaps back so coldly. You’re the girl who never shouts back at him when he lets his ego get the best of him. The girl who never fails to greet him with the same sickenly sweetness she turns onto others, even when he’s obviously not in the mood. The girl who never pushes him too far socially. Never piled every hope, dream, and pressure onto his back. The girl who never fought for his attention or for the chance to get close to his brother. But most of all?

  You’re the girl who keeps enough distance from him to stay. But not enough to keep him from wanting more. 

  Hi, Itoshi!  Let me know if you need anything, Itoshi!  Everything okay, Itoshi? Hey, Itoshi!  How are you, Itoshi?

  He can’t focus. Not with you around. But not while you’re far either. Not while his mind is pulling itself away from the ball resting near his feet. You’re a distraction. That’s just what you are to him- a distraction. A distraction was a pretty voice, sure. A distraction that never fails to bring color to his cheeks and a cloudiness to his mind, yeah. But that’s all you are to him. A classmate who distracts him. A classmate who hinders his progress. Keeps him from reaching his potential. His fullest potential. 

  But…

  Rin looks out and in front of him, eyeing the open, empty space of the pitch. Before long, one of the home games from this past season enters his mind. And he’s able to perfectly imagine a particular scene- a kickoff that happened halfway through the game. A kickoff that was going to sail the ball perfectly in front of his awaiting frame. Just like he trained his teammates to do.

  A kickoff he almost missed because he swore the moment he heard his teammate’s foot make contact with the ball, he saw you.

  He cringes at that memory. At the reminder of how far he still has to go. Of how human he is. But it was your fault. It was all your fault. You told him good luck before his game. You told him you’d try to watch part of his game before you left school for the day. You told him. You promised him.

  And you did. But your presence- even now, it plagues him.  Or rather, your existence does. The thought of you being near. The thought of you being far. He hasn’t been able to escape it ever since you joined his class. He hasn’t been able to escape it since he first saw you. But you’re supposed to be no one. You are no one. No one to him. 

  So why does he want so badly to greet you as you do to him? Why does he want so badly to be the only one who feels special when you talk to them? Why does he want so badly to have you at his every practice and at his every game so you can watch him become great? And so that he could be the one that walks you home. The one that gets to hold your hand. The one that gets to keep you by their side. The one that gets all your attention. 

  The one that gets all of you.

Hi, Itoshi!  Let me know if you need anything, Itoshi!  Everything okay, Itoshi? Hey, Itoshi!  How are you, Itoshi?

  He drops his head and closes his eyes. With a heavy head hung low, he takes a deep breath in as he pulls his shoulders back. It only takes a couple seconds for him to hear and feel it: the satisfying pop of a stretch done properly. He then releases the breath he held slowly, minding every single second it passes through his lips. And then he sighs, once more.

  He thinks he hates you. He thinks, at least. Sometimes, he’s not sure. It’s not so simple. But more than anything, he wishes it was. He wishes it was simple.

  Because if it was, maybe he’d have the guts to do more than just send you a glare as you pass him just now. Because if it was, maybe he’d grow a pair and call out to you. He’d tell you that he’d walk you home. He’d talk to you properly. And he’d enjoy your smile and your voice and all those things you share freely with the world. He’d enjoy them all.

  But it’s not simple. So he doesn’t do any of that. And you don’t break your stride as you pass by him as he sits on the bench, going home with nobody to accompany you. You don’t need him. And he doesn’t need you.

  At least, he’ll tell himself that for as long as it takes to get off his feet and back onto the pitch. So he can focus on what's important. So he can focus on his future.

  So he can focus on something that just isn't you.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

i saw you in a dream a two-part Karasu Tabito x Filipina!reader story part two

Synopsis: The dreams of a distant war led you to believe that he could exist now. Maybe he did.

Word Count: 2.3K

Content Warning: Discussions of history (especially with how Japan teaches it), reincarnation au, reoccurring dreams, fluff, a little ooc (sighs again i know), mentions of Karasu's childhood experiences (lmao huhu)

Author's Note: Now, I know that the discussions of Japan's way of teaching their people about the history of WW II are quite different from how the rest of the world tells it and how it's still controversial, I dabbled lightly around this sensitive topic just to give an insight of how the reader and the other characters dealt with it. I just wanna give you a heads-up on that. If you have any insights about it, please let's discuss it together through replies, reblogs, dms, or asks. I want everyone who reads this part to have an open mind and be willing to give out their points in terms of writing and history. Thank you so much for reading the first part.

Read part one here!

@mininji @wannabepoeticischiya @x3nafix ✨

You were 8 years old.

The dream was always blurry like a camera lens that needed some wiping. The voices sounded underwater; only its tone was familiar to you. The song from the record player was oddly clear to you, but you never figured out what the song was. You can feel the grief in it... because, in the dream, you were the woman left behind by... what was his name again?

At a young age, you'd always read the story of the Japanese Occupation in the Philippines in your History Book almost every week, memorizing the events. However, to your knowledge, you know that there's something more than just the important date of when the Bataan Death March started and where the destination was or what McArthur said when he fled the Philippines for safety. 

You asked your teacher to tell you more when the class reached the lesson, being the only one awake and active in such a boring class. She was more than willing to tell you more after classes for a one-on-one session, further increasing your excitement. She warned you as you sat comfortably beside her desk that the deeper event of the colonization wasn't for children, to which you only responded, "I'm a big girl, teacher! I'm sure I can handle it." 

You did not.

Because who even knew that there were abuses against women, forcing them to bring men comfort? Who even knew that the Philippines suffered the most because of the battles between Japan and America? Who knew the country was almost erased from the map because of the war? Who knew that it was a bloody part of the country's history?

You struggled to sleep that night, and the dream didn't help you much.

By age 12, your parents took you to Japan as they worked there. It was better for everyone to be together; they told you to comfort you as you cried and cried not to let you leave your grandparents' house. They promised a complete family if you just go with them this time. The plane ride in a foreign country, the country that did so much damage to your homeland, made you feel nauseous. You didn't want to be with these people, you thought, as you sat in your seat, unable to understand anyone in class. It was a sad sight. You were thankful that your dad was patient enough to teach you basic phrases and Hiragana. "You'll get better when you make friends. That way, you can talk and learn from them," he told you one night after your nightly tutoring session.

Easier said than done. Until someone did approach you.

He was nice, at least. He didn't care much that you were different and quiet. He sat beside you one day and said, "Otoya." You replied with your last name, and he nodded. Then he started to talk. You tried to understand what he said, and he was patient enough to let you process what he said before saying more. He was so chill around you that you brought him home to introduce him to your parents, saying, "Ma, Pa, Otoya," then turning to Otoya, saying, "Otoya, Ma, Pa."

It was a weird sight that your parents talked to him more than you did to him, your parents translating what they just said in your native tongue. Slowly, he became a frequent visitor in your home, being around whenever your father gave you your daily language lessons. When you started to get the hang of the language, you finally had a proper conversation with him without writing your questions and responses on paper. There would be times that Otoya would correct you, and you'd roll your eyes at him at which he'd just shrug.

You told him about the dream, how it's connected to history, and how your country suffered. You and Otoya had a silent argument about what version of history was right, almost causing both of you to almost break off your friendship.

You decided to say sorry and to just drop the history thing. But Otoya was still intrigued by your dream.

"Might be reincarnation," he said as you two were taking a break from studying, lying on the hardwood floor of your living room. His silvery hair shone from the sunlight streaming through the window. You sighed and started to fidget on the hem of your shirt. "That would be weird. Why would I be a reincarnation of a sad lady?" you asked quietly. Otoya turned to look at you, his slanted eyes looking bored yet interested. "Maybe you'd grow into one," he teased, his tone unchanging. He always spoke nonchalantly, but you always picked up the intention of his words through the little quirks of his voice. You grabbed your notebook and slapped his head with it, earning a little "ow" from him. "And you'd grow up into a miserable old man who will never get a girlfriend."

Otoya laughed softly and shook his head. "You're wrong. I'm already on my sixth girlfriend this year," he said, his laughter fizzled into a small smile on his lips. "Eugh, we're in our second year of middle school and you had 6 girlfriends already? Gross." 

"If you aren't so hung up with your dreamscape husband, maybe you'd enjoy dating too," he replied, sitting up. The ends of his silver hair dropped on his forehead, then he fixed the green streak in front. "Are you really gonna grow your hair out?" you asked, ignoring his comment from earlier. Otoya nodded and messed his hair up a little. "I read somewhere that girls are into guys with longer hair. Might wanna try that out."

You let out another gagging noise before you sat back up. "Enough with the dating talk. You disgust me."

You noticed that the dreams were becoming clearer yearly, revealing more events. The conversations were a little audible, the faces of your dreamscape siblings were no longer a blur, and the song... you were finally able to figure out the tune of the song. The moment you woke up one day, you quickly hummed the song through your phone's voice recorder, hoping one day you'd find the title. 

By the time you reach the age of 17, you realize you've been having the dream more frequently than before, sometimes five times every couple of months. By now, you know how deep the man's voice was, comforting and warm despite the situation. He was caring, he was kind. You wondered if Otoya's guess years ago of this being a reincarnation was true because now, you only wanted to find someone like the man in your dreams. How much of a coincidence would it be when you find the same person as him?

Five years have passed, and you have slowly forgotten about the dream. Maybe it was just your busy life that made you forget how you had it for the past year. Now, it's just an afterthought, a memory of how you experienced a love story every time you closed your eyes at night. 

The classroom door opened, revealing Otoya and the security guard following behind him. "Eita! It's class hours, what are you doing here?" You asked, pushing him out of the room. The kids inside the room gasped and giggled, hushed conversations between them. "You're attracting too much attention now," you scolded him silently. Otoya shrugged and replied, "Come with me this weekend." Typical Otoya, not acknowledging the commotion he's causing. Now kids are lurking by the door, looking at the star footballer and wondering what he's doing with their beloved English teacher. You smiled at them and asked them to get inside, your sweet voice filling the hallways. The kids giggled and hid behind the door. "Eita," you said, returning your focus to your childhood friend, "you could've texted me that you're back in town."

"You could've been busy, and this is easier. I've invited some soccer friends to visit and take them around the city. Plus, they don't believe I have a best friend, so come with me," Otoya replied, his voice a little sing-song tune, but when he sounds like that, he's annoyed. You scoffed, reaching out to tug his green-streaked hair gently. "Alright, I'll accompany you and your friends. Just text me the details so I can clear my schedule, but only on the weekend. Okay?" 

As soon as Otoya nodded, you started to push him out of the hallway. "Now you have to leave. The kids might not be able to stop themselves from seeing more of you." Otoya nodded and waved at the kids peeking through the door, watching him leave. The moment you turned to tell the kids to get back inside, they started to bombard you with questions about your relationship with Otoya and how you knew him. You sighed, knowing that the lessons would be put aside for this.

The moment Karasu heard Otoya mention your name in the locker room after their last match, he knew.

The dreams, he knew this is what it meant. He knew that he was going to meet you one day. "Who?" he asked.

"Oh, interested?" Otoya replied, "Too bad 'cause she's in love with someone else."

He must be interesting, Karasu thought, but meeting you might change everything. Maybe. Chigiri chimed in, saying he doesn't believe that Otoya has a best friend when all he talks about are girls and how to pick them up. "How about we visit each other's hometowns while off-season?" Otoya suggested, throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder, and waiting for Karasu and Chigiri to finish up. Chigiri shrugged, saying he was okay with it. Karasu agreed too, saying it would be interesting to look around.

Your name has been on his mind for years, it's crazy. He has never told anyone about his dreams, how he sees himself as a soldier in high ranks, marrying a girl in a country he has studied so much about, learning as much as he could, even the parts he cannot accept at first but kept his mind open for the possibility that it might be true. It was crazy enough that people might start making fun of him for it, so he kept it to himself, kept it in his heart, and swore to find you, even if the possibility of meeting you were low. He believed that in his ordinary life, this dream made it extraordinary.

The dreams started when he was 8. Every night, it’s always so clear. Karasu could see the face of the lady, the way she smiled, the way she cried when he left, the way she looked when he danced with her. The sad lady, he once called her, became his favorite dream. Maybe that's why he rejected Marisa. He was too in love with her. 

It was sad when he dreamt of the lady less and less as he aged. He could remember her name, her face, and her voice. Karasu knew that this might have meant something.

He read about reincarnation in other religions and how it works. He read about it in fairytales and watched it in romance movies his sister loved to watch. Karasu knew he could be reaching, but if he kept dreaming of a certain woman, this might be it.

Now it seemed fate was working overtime as he and Chigiri waited for Otoya to pick them up at the station. It was a lovely day, too. The breeze was gentle and cool, and the sky was as blue as ever. 

He knew this would be the day he’d meet the sad lady.

"Sup," Otoya greeted as he arrived, walking towards the two. "Where's your best friend?" Chigiri asked, looking around, "You said your 'best friend' would be here."

"She will be here. She has some school things to do," Otoya responded.

"Student?" Chigiri asked.

"Nah, teacher."

The day went on as Otoya took Karasu and Chigiri to local spots to avoid a surge of tourists that day. Otoya was good at playing tour guide for the two, taking pictures of each other, noting places with great deals, and buying souvenirs for their families. It was not long before Otoya took Chigiri and Karasu to Sakae District, awaiting your arrival.

And Karasu knew you before you even spoke.

God, you looked exactly like how you did in his dream. The kind eyes, a smile that could take every worry away, and your hair, though longer, was the same. But you weren’t as sad as you were in his dreams. "Is that her?" Karasu asked, his eyes glued on you as you walked towards them. "Yep."

"Hi, guys! I'm sorry I joined you so late! Had to grade the kids' essay papers," you said, your cheerful voice somehow lifting their exhaustion. Otoya threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you to him. "It's alright. We had fun without you anyway."

"Rude," you scoffed, nudging his rib with your elbow. "Are you gonna introduce me to your soccer friends, Eita?"

"Ah, right. Karasu, Chigiri, Y/n. Y/n, Karasu, Chigiri."

Your mind somehow sparked at the name. Karasu. Where have you heard that name again? 

His eyes met yours, pretty blues that reminded you of something distant. A memory? His smirk reminded you so much of someone you met before. He was familiar yet a stranger, someone you want to know more and get close to. What was this feeling?

You held out your hand for Chigiri, which he was happy to shake, and turned to Karasu who held your hand firmly, and for a split-second...

You were taken back to the conversations in the dream about the war and the soldier telling you he loved you, how he told you he wanted you as his wife, and how his name was...

"Tabito?"

Karasu smiled at you as he stepped closer, meeting your gaze once more.

"So, it really is you, Y/n. I've been waiting to meet you for years."

[itlogricky]

~ 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

~ 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

You were having a high fever, this is quickly seen by Rin, who sets his computer aside and gets up. He approaches you and gets down on his lower legs. The question "How are you feeling?" He asks this with genuine compassion and a soft voice. Given that you were visibly shaking, it doesn't take him long to comprehend how horrible your current position is.

"Im not really feeling well today." you spoke, he acknowledges what you're going through with a nod. Rin goes past you as he takes some water from the refrigerator and a bottle of medicine from a nearby shelf. He says in a calm voice, "Take these,sit up and stay still for a while." "Mhm, alright." Rin then delicately puts the water bottle next to the pills on your tongue. "Don't move your tongue."

Before settling down on the bed next to you, he whispers. Still softly gazing over you, he envelops you in his arms and places his head on your shoulder. "Im really glad to have you Rinrin." as you call his nickname, even though Rin has heard you say this numerous times, he still finds it amusing. He gave you the opportunity to see him at his most vulnerable.

After that, Rin continues to smile but stays silent for an extended period as the room becomes silent. He appears to be a different person than the one who is typically so solemn and stern all the time since his countenance is softer and more gentle. Rin notices your shivering and sense of cold. He decides to say a sweet word to you after considering it some thought. He sits on the edge of your bed and whispers softly. "Cuddle with me?" You are asked this by him, which strikes you as an odd and unexpected question from someone of his type.

"Mhm,okay.." you softly whisper to him.

The moment you accept his offer, Rin smiled warmly. In order to keep you warm, he covers blankets around your body. He then moves forward and wraps his arms around you before enclosing you in a tight hug. He leans in close and begins to stroke your hair with his control. He mutters, "Comfortable?" When he sees how you've let yourself relaxing in front of him, Rin smiles as he watches you fall asleep. He begins to hold you close and stroke your hair before moving on to kiss your forehead and settling down next to you. He covers the two of you and wraps himself in the blankets before eventually dozing out as well.

[daebraeksan]

Scared to talk to Bachira about him hurting your feelings (but then you do it and he apologizes and you forgive him)

Genre: comfort, established relationship, pro player Bachira

Contents: anxiety, insecurity, implied trauma, trust issues, fear of confrontation

Wc: 1289

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

You’re in a little bit of a catastrophic spiral. You feel really tender and sensitive and like anything could send you over the edge. You feel like you’ve done everything wrong (what specifically? Everything. What more explanation could you possibly want?) and you feel like everything is going to be taken away from you.

You get like this sometimes. You try not to. But it’s hard to outrun a childhood. And you aren’t really trying to outrun it. You just want to be happy despite it.

Having Bachira in your life is one thing you have tried to remove from the list of things you have periodic freak outs about. You want to work on your trust issues, and you have, and you know Bachira is trustworthy. He has never done anything to prove otherwise. Logic doesn’t really help your anxieties or insecurities but you still feel the need to point out the facts.

You’ve been off kilter for a few days in a row, situations not going your way, some major, some minor, and you hate it. You hate that you can’t just coping-strategy all of this away—all of these feelings away. You pace around your house. You sit down at the dining table and rock yourself. You curl up on the couch in an incredibly uncomfortable position and don’t move. 

Normally, you are pretty good at feeling secure in your relationships with people. You’ve worked hard to get to this point. You don’t have to second guess their motives, when you’ve known them for a long time, and they’ve demonstrated nothing but respect and kindness towards you. But this week has been crazy for Bachira, too, or something—regardless of the reason, you felt ignored one too many times, felt like you were snapped at, and felt like you were expendable. You don’t blame him at all since it’s your interpretation but at the same time you know from experience that invalidating your emotions isn’t going to make any of this go away.

And then you’ve gone and wrapped yourself up in your old habits of being afraid to talk about something. Your classic fear rears its head: you’re too much trouble, way more trouble than you’re worth, and everyone is going to leave you.

Bachira comes home, drops his stuff off haphazardly in the front doorway, and makes a beeline straight towards you. He ruffles your hair and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I’m home,” he sings.

You smile at him, but you feel crazy. He must notice something is off—how could he not?—because he cups your cheek. It has the intended effect—you indeed feel soothed. You nuzzle your cheek into his palm. You want to be completely engulfed in his touch. You hate everything you’re feeling right now. It’s too hard. 

“What do you want to do tonight?”

You know sometimes he asks this as a formality. He always likes having something to do—but he is content to “compromise” with you and create an “event” for something very normal and calm and low-key that you also want to do (at home. Definitely at home.) (You hate that word because it still feels like both people lose something but whatever the word is for both people are happy with the outcome lol.) 

“I don’t know,” you half-lie—at the very least, you know you have to talk to him. The words coagulate like mucus in your throat. You’re so stupid. This shouldn't be that hard.  Bachira loves you and he’s going to listen to you and nothing is going to be wrong.

You can tell yourself these things. And it won’t help. But to be fair, being mean to yourself won’t help either, but. Yknow. You aren’t going to win every battle. Definitely not this one today.

Not that you want this conversation with  Bachira to seem like a battle. You don’t. 

He studies you for a bit. “We could…just relax together until we think of something?”

You like having a specifically-designated task, something delineated, and can make you feel like you aren’t a failure and aren’t causing a fuss or scene or trouble. You aren’t ruining everyone’s night, this still “counts” as “successful”—you give in to all your old habits, all your rigid, self-scaring habits. Why not? When it rains it pours, or whatever. Let the dam break. Etc. 

You hear him heating up food in the kitchen and he spreads everything out on the coffee table in the living room. You look at him adoringly. He knows you don't eat when you’re like this. That bastard. Loving you and taking care of you. 

How dare he?

You both start on your food, him digging in, and you nibbling. 

“Can we talk?” you ask. 

“Always,” he says, and a few pieces of rice fly out of his mouth onto the table. He picks them up and tries to feed them to you.

“No!” you bark jokingly as you twist your head away, scrunching up your face, trying not to laugh because then he will put the rice in your mouth.

“Don’t waste food!” he admonishes seriously.

“Stop!” you finally let out a giggle. He eats the rice himself and settles back down. 

You stare at him and he stares at you.

“Sorry,” he says. “It’s your turn again.”

“Thank you,” you say. You figure you might as well ease yourself into it. You don’t have to accuse yourself of manipulation or lying or whatever—you just need to let yourself be. You’re trying your best. You start off with talking about some random topics that were bothering you this week to set the scene. You explain the headspace you’ve been in and how you’ve been feeling.

He puts down his food. “I’m sorry that happened,” he says. “Can I hug you?”

You nod. You put down your food just as he throws his arms around you and squeezes you tight. He kisses your cheek. “I don’t mean for those actions to make you feel those ways.  Is there anything I can do to show you that  I didn’t mean any of that, and that I love you so much?”

You are very embarrassed. You hate to ask for anything—even normal boring stuff, and now, this feels like you are being asked to ask for something extra special. Asking someone to make amends to you feels so wrong. It feels like you’re not supposed to cause other people trouble. But anything you say, Bachira probably has already done before, and is okay with it, and some, he’s even done on his own volition before, and you  might not have even known it was what you liked or wanted before him.

You make your requests of how you want to spend some time with him doing your favorite activities and he happily acquiesces.  

“I’ve been wanting that, too,” he says. He peppers kisses all over your face. “I’m sorry you had a bad week,” he says. “That’s so stupid.”

“It was really stupid,” you say sadly. 

He shakes you. “Do you want me to beat them up?” he asks in the most chipper tone.

You sigh and shake your head. “No. Let’s just watch tv.”

He grabs blankets, and you finish the rest of your food while watching your comfort show, snuggled up next to Bachira, who waits patiently until you’re done eating so he can hold your hand. 

Nothing can make the bad events of this week less bad—but you also don’t have to carry your insecure energy into next week. You know you can do what you need to do and you know it’s okay to feel this way sometimes. And if there’s anyone who believes in you the most, it’s Bachira.

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: You swore grief followed you like a cloud. Losing those who you loved at every turn, but there was one positive at least you had Bachira to turn to for comfort. But you were soon to find out the mysterious deaths surrounding you werent such a mystery afterall. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Meguru Bachira (Blue Lock) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.9k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Yandere!Bachira. ⚠️NSFW Dark Content⚠️. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Knife play, stalking, NONCON, mentions of voyeurism, gas lighting, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, blood, oral (fem!receiving), pussy slapping, degrading, mind break.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: WE DID IT YALL! We have officially made it to the end of Kinktober!! This was my first time taking a stab (hehe) at this challenge and we may have had a few hiccups along the way, but we got here! I really wanted to end this month with a bang! So this is probably the most intense of the ones on this list. For this one more than all of the others, please be mindful of the tags. This is the most intense and dark fic I’ve done this month. You are responsible for the content you consume, if this is not for you please have a look at my complete masterlist for Kinktober here. This is also my second submission for the "No, You Hang Up" Ghostface server collab that I'm hosting with our other server owner @rindous-starlight I really hope you enjoy and thank you for sticking with me through it! Merry Samhein/Happy Halloween my loves!

Bachira’s eyes were locked on you, unblinking. His gaze was so intense he was surprised that you didn’t feel it through the glass of your window. You were so trusting, but oh so naïve. Not thinking for a moment that your sweet, ditzy, neighbor had such a deep-seated obsession with you. Couldn’t imagine that nearly nightly he sat by his window, the same one that was directly across from yours, eyes locked on your frame. As you changed, danced around, scrolled through your phone, and especially late at night when you let your hands roam your body. To Bachira, in his twisted mind, this was all intentional. Because for what other reason would you, in clear view with your blinds open, let your fingers sink into your delicious cunt? To Bachira he took it as you simply teasing him. Aching for him to make the first move.

You had moved to this neighborhood nearly a year ago. And you would be lying if you said it had been an easy year. The past year had tested you to the extreme. Within only a month your long-term boyfriend went missing. You and Reo had been together for almost ten years, high school sweethearts. You didn’t know what you would do, he had been all you’ve ever known. After spending weeks worried sick, never stopping looking for him, his body had turned up in the middle of the woods. Murdered. You couldn’t imagine who could do such a thing. Bachira had happened to return to his home when you were just wrapping up talking to the police, offering you a kind smile and a warm hug.

Bachira.

You don’t know what you would have done without him this past year. He had been there for you all through your grief, comforting you every step along the way. Despite what anyone said, you were eternally grateful for the sweet man. You best friend, Karasu, hadn’t liked him. Claiming something about “the guy’s vibe being off” and that he “seemed happy with your boyfriend out of the picture”. You two had gotten into an argument that night, after telling Bachira about your squabble the next day you were certain he was right.

Karasu had never liked Reo, claiming you could do so much better. That he and his best friend Nagi’s relationship was weird. But, no, Bachira was right he was projecting. Projecting that Bachira was the one happy Re was out of the picture when it was really him. That didn’t mean that he deserved what happened to him, however. You spent too many nights lying awake relaying the last conversation you both had on repeat. Screaming back and forth before he stormed out. Sure he had been so nasty to Bachira, who all he wanted was to be there for you, but he didn’t deserve…

He didn’t deserve to die.

Enough time had passed since Reo’s passing that you had begun to consider moving on. After Reo, and now Karasu, your late boyfriend’s best friend had begun checking on you more frequently. You weren't sure how it happened, maybe because you were missing Reo and being with Nagi felt like there was still a piece of him left behind. The both of you seek comfort in each other, eventually escalating, blossoming into a bit of an arrangement. The both of you weren't dating by any means, more seeking a body to keep the bed (and your cunt) warm. And it was working, going so well. It was nice having Nagi around, a familiar face you had known for so many years. Not having to rely on Bachira so much.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the sweet man’s presence, but you were starting to feel guilt for leaning on him so heavily. Bachira had been there for you through both tragedies this past year, now being your only friend in the world with the recent developments in you and Nagi’s relationship. When you had moved here, it was a distance away from your family. Having moved here to be closer to Reo’s work. Karasu was a good enough friend that he had found an apartment nearby, not wanting you to be so far away with no one. But, with him gone now too, it seemed like all you had was Bachira and Nagi. You were so grateful for Bachira’s presence, so lucky to have him in your life.

But oh how wrong had you been.

You wished you had listened to Karasu, that you had never moved here in the first place. Not as your feet slammed against the hardwood of the spacious home left to you in Reo’s absence. Not as you had come home that day to see your couch stained in his blood, his lifeless body being hovered over by the mysterious masked killer. And certainly not as the same man chased you throughout your home, his manic laughter seeming all too familiar. Once you were sure you had put enough distance between you both you ran toward your bedroom, slipping inside your closet.

That had been your first mistake.

The hand you had clamped over your mouth must have not been doing its job well enough

“Come on out, honeybee. I just wanna talk. I promise I wont hurt you, I’d never hurt you. I love you.”

You froze in place where you were hidden, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening …Bachira?

You let out an audible gasp, in hindsight that was most likely what had led him to your hiding spot. You let out a scream as the closet door is thrown open, mask discarded from his face now, allowing you to take him in. Crazed look in those honey-colored eyes you had grown to feel so safe when looking into, now causing bile to rise in your throat. Blood staining his hands and smeared on his cheek. Knife tossed aside somewhere on the bed as he collects you into his arms. An embrace where you once felt safe, now making you feel trapped, fear creeping up your spine. You let out a full body shudder as his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck.

“There you are my honey bee. Are you done hiding from me now?” His words come out muffled against your skin, tears pricking the back of your eyes.

“Bachira…why?”

His grip tightens on your figure, surely displeased with your words. His hand coming to your face in a harsh grip, eyes narrowed when looking into yours.

“Meguru.” He nearly growls. “You call me Meguru. People who are in love call each other by their first names. Now say it.”

You let out a hush whimper of his name and that seems to snap him back into his bubbly personality. Before you could comprehend what was happening his lips collided with yours, his tongue invading your mouth. Walking you backward until your knees hit the back of the mattress, causing you to fall back your body hitting the plush mattress with hm still on top of you You whimper, low and in the back of your throat, weakly trying to push him off of you.

“Please… Meguru, stop.”

This seems to upset him one again, his fingers curling around the bladed weapon that lay discarded on your mattress. You felt the cold blade caress the side of your face, cold metal, sliding down the column of your throat. His lips pressed to your ear as he speaks.

“It’s a shame what happened to your boyfriend.” Bachira purred, hand still coated in Nagi’s blood, caressing the side of your face. “All those muscles didn’t help much.”

You feel sick to your stomach, the knife against your throat a reminder of what could happen if you continue to disobey him. You shudder as his hand moves swiftly, cutting through the fabric of your dress and bra, eyes locked on your now-exposed chest. Hearing is mumbled ‘so beautiful. Before he ducked down, capturing one of your nipples between his soft lips. The hand not still holding the knife thumbs your neglected bud to a peak before pinching it between blood-stained digits. With every touch to your skin, more of the evidence of what he had down stains your body. He pays attention to your sensitive buds, grinding his hips into your own. You know you should feel appalled, feel disgusted that the very man who had caused you so much grief was on top of you. Touching you.

So why did it feel so good?

Why did you crave more of his touch?

Why were your hips meeting his own?

Perhaps it had been because it had been a while since you had been touched like this. Nagi found most things to be a hassle, often falling asleep almost immediately after he came. Whatever the reason you were mortified to find yourself craving more. Allowing him to slip your clothes properly off of your body. Not fighting when his lips traveled down your frame. And certainly not when he used his index and middle fingers parted your folds so he cold duck his head down and lick a fat stripe up your soaked cunt. Bachira’s body had a visceral reaction to your taste, burying his face in your cunt, his tongue alternating between licking fat stripes against your clit to pointed circles tracing shapes against the bundle of nerves. His hips grind desperately against the mattress in search of friction to his achingly hard cock. But his head was too pussy drunk already, your taste having his eyes rolling back in his head, eating you like a man starved. Like his life depended on the sustenance of your juices.

He leans back after a moment, admiring you being so exposed for him, hand rearing back to slap your exposed cunt. You cry out, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he dives back down, burying this face into your folds once more. His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. You whine, the warmth contrasting to the cold of the room. You’re shaking, trying to hold the position he’s placed you in.

Hands gripping your waist tighter than before, which you were sure would leave imprints, if not bruises on your skin in the morning. Lips attach to your clit, tongue flicking rapidly, only pausing to occasionally bite or suck on the sensitive flesh. Your hips pick up speed, practically riding his tongue as your hips buck against his face. The familiar feeling of warmth spreads throughout your stomach, your body hurtling toward your orgasm at an alarming rate. Bachira feels your thighs spasm, both hands now gripping your ass, to pull your cunt down further onto his face, head bobbing to coax you into cumming for him. You release with a scream, thighs trapping his head between your legs, only releasing once you’ve come done from your high. Your chest rising and falling with heavy pats, not noticing Bachira throwing the cloak off of his body, freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. Only snapping back into reality as you feel the drag of his cock between your folds, the tip of him nudging your entrance, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Now, be a good girl and scream for me, yeah?”

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[moechies]

Ur fav guy fucking his mom pls pls

౨ৎ ⋆ take it, mommy ! ꨄ shidou ryusei ꒰ DARK CONTENT ꒱

sypnosis: grimy shidou fuckin' his mommy :(

content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 1.4k words ꒱ ince$t, yandere themes, pwop, tons of kissing, groping, no prep, creampie, whiny needy ryu, name usage including . . mommy, mama

“ryusei ! get off me!”

“no.. i love you, love y’so much mommy. missed you soo much.” he purrs against your warm skin. his heavy body lays atop of you, keeping you still below him as he grabs at your face and pressing sloppy kisses anywhere he deems possible; like a bunny in heat.

“n-not now, ryusei, mommy’s got things to do, okay?”

“y’really can’t spend some quality time with your son?” he pouts, a sight you’re never used to seeing. it makes your heart ache, and you sigh.

“b-but, i have to cook—“

“i can help you with that later, ‘kay? jus’ miss you mama, don’t leave me.”

you shrivel under his touch, finding it hard to respond with anything other than your usual ‘yes, of course i won’t .’ he attempts to read into your expression, looking for any sign of reassurance. he sighs with relief when you smile, burying himself in the crook of your collarbone when you run a hand through the soft of his fluffy hair. because he knows, knows that you’ve fallen into his trap once again.

. . ♡

ryusei only loves you. maybe it’s the fact that you’re the only one out of thousands of individuals that he’s ever met, that has shown him unconditional love. spending the last 20 years of your life grooming him, nurturing him, regardless of anything that has happened within the span of his fucked up life, he’s never found another like his own mother.

he can’t help but love you more than a son should love his mother, clinging onto you at any moment given possible when he isn’t out solely to play soccer for his profession.

the brat almost always gets into dangerous situations after a bad game, rushing home to find comfort in his mothers presence, as well as in her sloppy cunt. you attempt to scold him, but everything simply goes in one ear and out the next when he’s desperate for some lovin’ from his mother.

“i know.. i know already, okay? jus’ missed you so much. couldn’t wait to come home..” he mumbles, pressing his hot lips against yours. it’s overwhelming, his soft hands roaming your body and groping the flesh of your tits from under your shirt, the soft fat of them falling in between his fingers. “really just missed you s’much mama. forgive me, ‘kay?”

how heartless would you be if you didn’t ?

♡ . .

“w’na make you feel good. can i , mommy ? please ? w’na have you so bad.” he whines, fingers tugging at your shirt, quickly pulling them above your tits causing you to squeal. he wastes no time listening to your complaints, whining about how he’s too crude, and how he needs to be patient, instead he quickly latches onto your swollen bud. his strained cock unwittingly humps into the sheets, the wet sticky patch that leaks from his cock head dirtying his boxers.

ones you’d have to wash later, and look back on the ‘guilt‘ of your two’s doings.

he’s messy, and his spit coats not only your puffy areola but the fat of your tit. he gropes at your tit simultaneously, causing you to arch your back away from the rough sensation.

“r-ryusei hnn— too rough.”

“sorryyy. . didn’t mean t’mommy.” he mumbles, catching your lips in a heated kiss.

meanwhile, his hand travels below, pulling himself out of the confinement of his boxers. he sighs into your mouth out of relief, the warmth of his shaft unintentionally rubbing against your naked thigh. it makes you whine, squeezing your eyes tight.

“ryusei..” you mumble into the kiss , catching his attention. “you’re such a good boy f’mommy baby.” you coo with a light smile. his gaze softens, an ill-intentioned grin that spreads across his face. he yearns for your free hand, intertwining his bigger fingers with yours.

“can i fuck you now ? please, can’t wait anymore. it hurts , mommy.” he whines, leading your gaze down below where he fervidly attempts to rub out the ache in his cock. it’s a sight you’ve seen many times before, but one that you’re never able to get used to.

he’s heavy, and thick, the rotund tip leaking of creamy pre. his balls swell with need, desperate for any sort of release. he’s thickest around the middle, veins bulging across the entirety of his fat shaft. you find yourself salivating at the sight, quickly tidying your appearance before he has time to make fun of your expression.

“such a pretty sight, baby.” you coo, hoisting yourself onto your forearms to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

“t-thank you, mommy.” he mumbles, a light blush of pink painting over his cheeks. he’s unable to look into you, embarrassed, but doesn’t waste time to press a kiss on the tip of your nose to show his appreciation.

he rubs the swollen head against the pudgy slit of your cunt waiting for approval, shivering when he feels his pre mix into the slick of your arousal. his grip on your hand grows tighter, attempting to press further into your silky cunt.

“mommy, please—“

“mhm, be good for mommy, okay? go ahead, p-put it in, ryusei.”

you find yourself barely able to breathe throughout the the desperation, watching as his pupils grow into large black voids, shaped into hearts.

he wastes no time, quickly guiding his cock into the depths of your cunt. the arousal caused upon his teasing causes a slip, his creamy head accidently nudging over your puffy clit, making you jolt against him. he mumbles out insincere apologies, head empty other than the thought of getting in his mother’s cunt.

he nearly cums when he successfully fucks into you, your tight walls pulsating and gripping around him like no other. you squeal at the stretch, free hand coming up to push at his chest in an attempt to slow his movements.

“wait— ryu !”

“mommy,” he whines, on the brink of tears. if his eyes hadn’t been rolled back into his fucking skull, you’d very obviously see tears beading in the socket of his rosy irises.

“r-ryu,” you cry. “feels s’ good. y-you’re making mommy feel so good..”

his chest swells with pride, yearning to hear more of your honey-like praises.

he humps into you lazily, his breaths heavy and to be heard from rooms away. minimal sweat beads across the crown of his forehead, his gaze pacing back and forth from your frenzied state to down below where you two connect.

your cunt accommodates his girth perfectly, fat folds stretching to painful limits just enough to fit his cock. every thrust leaves a coat of pearlescent cream around him forming a ring, slow dribbles of cum spilling down and coating the tight rim below.

“l-love you, only you, love your pussy s’much, i— thankyouthankyouthank—“ his rambles are stopped by a kiss, but to no avail as he continues chanting against your lips. his hands rub up on every inch of your skin desperately, roughly fondling your messy tits, eager to feel more.

“wan’ you to cum, please, cum ‘round me mama. please—“ he mumbles meekly into your neck, bodies held together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

his thrusts become heavy and sloppy, leaving no room for you to squirm away as he holds tight. “hnn— r-ryu, it hurts— think ‘m g-gonna cum,” you cry, shimmery tears dragging along your dewy cheek. red painful streaks paint the back of the football player, but he pays no mind.

“cum, mommy, cum on it.” he moans breathlessly.

you’d never miss a chance to. your cunt convulses around him violently, pushing him over the edge at the given moment. creamy cum coats the insides, painting your walls white as his fat load seems to be never ending, filling your little cunt to the brim.

“ryusei, t-too much! wait !”

“take i-it, pleasee hnn—, just be still and take it f’me—“

he holds you tight, hindering your attempt to scramble away from the feeling, being sure you feel every inch, every drop of his heavy load.

he withdraws his limp cock from you unwillingly, whining at the sensitivity when your cunt clenches around his swelled tip.

he light smile spreads across his lips as he watches his load leak out of you involuntarily, painting the sheets white. he does nothing to prevent the mess, simply watching from afar dreaming of doing it again.

“love you, mommy.” he speaks quietly, gently grabbing your face on both sides to pucker your swollen lips before pressing a heavy kiss. he adores your fucked out expression, barely awoke but still conscious enough to shoot him a smile, and a honeyed, “i love you too, ryusei. ♡”

“goodnight, mommy. sleep tight. ♡”

[rinsthighsweat]

The time they find out they have a crush on you

Rin, Sae and Shidou | masterlist

Word count: 3.1k in total, 1k each

g!n reader, fluff ... and that's it, I guess

۶ৎ Rin Itoshi

Rin Itoshi wasn’t the type to get distracted. His focus was razor-sharp, honed by years of relentless training and a desire to surpass his brother. He kept his circle small, rarely spoke unless necessary, and always had his eyes on the next goal. But lately, something, or rather, someone, was throwing him off balance.

That someone was you.

It started subtly, almost imperceptibly, with Rin catching himself glancing your way during training breaks. You were always talking to the others, your laugh easy and light in contrast to the tension that usually hung over Blue Lock. Rin had convinced himself it was simply because your energy was loud, too loud to ignore. But the more time he spent near you, the more he realized it wasn’t about the volume. It was about you.

He hated it.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The turning point came during a routine strategy meeting. You sat beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushed against his when you shifted in your seat. Normally, Rin would have ignored it without a second thought. But this time, he was hyperaware of every small movement, the warmth of your proximity unsettling in a way he couldn’t explain.

“You’re quiet today” you said, tilting your head toward him.

“I’m always quiet” he replied curtly, eyes fixed firmly on the field diagram.

You chuckled softly. “Fair point. But you seem extra broody.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“If you say so.” Your voice carried amusement, but you let it drop, sensing his mood. Still, that lingering warmth from your brief attention stayed with Rin long after the meeting ended.

Later that evening, Rin found himself alone in the locker room, replaying the conversation in his mind. It wasn’t significant by any means, just small talk, a blip in the day. Yet it clung to his thoughts like static, and he couldn’t shake the way his chest had tightened when you laughed.

He gritted his teeth. This is stupid.

But the more he tried to push the thoughts away, the more they crept back. Images of you smiling, laughing, standing close enough that your presence filled his senses, none of it left him alone. The realization struck him like a jarring collision on the field: I like them.

The very idea made Rin scowl. He didn’t have time for this, didn’t want to have time for this. But denying it was pointless. His heart raced whenever you were near, and for the first time in a long while, Rin felt unsure of himself.

When he stepped outside, hoping the cool air would clear his head, there you were, sitting on the steps by the entrance. You looked up and smiled when you saw him, your expression soft and inviting.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” you asked.

“Something like that” Rin muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable and easy. For once, Rin didn’t feel the need to fill it, or push you away.

“You’re not as scary as everyone thinks, you know” you said, breaking the quiet.

He raised an eyebrow. “Who thinks I’m scary?”

“Pretty much everyone.” Your grin widened. “But I don’t.”

Rin’s heart did that annoying skip again, and he looked away, hoping the night would hide the faint heat creeping up his neck.

“You’re different from what people see on the surface,” you continued. “I like that.”

Your words hung in the air, and Rin knew he should respond, but the weight of his newfound feelings made it impossible to speak. Instead, he glanced at you, taking in the sincerity in your expression.

“Thanks” he finally managed, his voice quieter than usual.

You nudged him lightly with your shoulder. “See? Not scary at all.”

Rin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Maybe this wasn’t something he could control, but for the first time, he didn’t entirely mind. And as you both sat in the quiet night, Rin found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, liking you wasn’t so bad after all.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Sae Itoshi

Sae Itoshi was not a man accustomed to losing control. Whether on or off the field, he prided himself on maintaining an air of effortless composure. His charisma, the cool indifference that wrapped around him like a second skin, it was all calculated. He didn’t need anyone’s approval. He didn’t want anyone too close.

But lately, there was one person who seemed to shatter that carefully crafted barrier, without even trying. You.

It started innocently enough, with casual conversations after practice. Sae would spot you laughing with the others, always so effortless and bright, your smile something that seemed to stay with him long after the day ended. He didn’t understand why it bothered him. It was just you, after all, someone who didn’t seem to need anything from him.

But then, the subtle shifts began. The way your gaze lingered a little longer when you caught his eye, the way your presence didn’t feel like just another part of the background anymore. Sae caught himself looking for you in the crowds, listening for the sound of your voice in the mornings.

That’s when he realized, he was waiting for you.

It was infuriating.

One night, after a particularly grueling training session, Sae found himself walking back to his room, his mind preoccupied with the usual thoughts of what he could do to continue surpassing everyone. But then, there you were, sitting on the bench by the field, reading something on your phone. The faint glow illuminated your face, and for a moment, Sae simply watched you.

Without thinking, he approached.

“Still here?” he asked, his voice a little colder than intended.

You looked up, a smile forming on your lips when you saw him. “Can’t sleep, I guess.” You shrugged nonchalantly, then tilted your head curiously. “What about you? Done with practice already?”

Sae didn’t answer right away. He simply leaned against the bench, looking down at you. He couldn’t explain the knot that had suddenly formed in his stomach, the way his usual self-assurance seemed to falter under your gaze.

“You should go inside and rest. You’ve been working hard” you said, voice soft but firm. There was no agenda, no hidden meaning in your words, just a simple suggestion.

Sae hesitated. There it was again, that feeling. The one that made him feel like he was actually being seen for once, beyond the famous Itoshi name, beyond the expectations and pressure. It was... strange. Unfamiliar.

He sat down beside you without saying anything, staring ahead at the empty field. The night air was cool, but it didn’t matter. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, though, it felt... comfortable.

“Can I ask you something?” Sae broke the quiet, his voice more vulnerable than usual.

“Sure” you replied, glancing at him curiously.

“Why are you always so... you?” He couldn’t find a better way to phrase it, but he didn’t need to.

You tilted your head, a little smile playing at the corner of your lips. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t care about all the crap everyone else thinks about. You don’t... try so hard to be someone you’re not.” His words were sharper than intended, but they weren’t meant to hurt. He was just... confused.

For a moment, you were silent, looking out at the field as if thinking about what to say. “I don’t see the point in pretending,” you said simply, your voice calm. “People are going to judge you no matter what you do, so I’d rather just be me.”

Sae’s chest tightened at your words, something in them resonating with him more than he cared to admit. He leaned back slightly, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You’re different,” he said quietly, his tone shifting. “And I don’t know if I like it or hate it.”

Your gaze shifted back to him, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “You don’t like it?”

Sae ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping him. “I don’t know. Maybe... maybe I like it more than I should.”

The words hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken tension. Sae didn’t look at you, too caught up in his own confusion to face what he was really feeling.

“Maybe you’re not as indifferent as you think you are” you said, a playful edge to your voice.

Sae’s head snapped toward you, his heart skipping a beat at the light teasing in your tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? Talking to me when you could be anywhere else. You’re not exactly the picture of indifference.”

His breath caught in his throat, the words echoing in his mind as if you’d just thrown down a challenge. But Sae didn’t know how to respond. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that his feelings for you had become more than just a passing thought. They were something deeper, something he didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t deny.

“You’re... frustrating,” he muttered, though the frustration wasn’t with you, it was with himself.

You laughed softly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “I could say the same about you.”

Sae’s heart pounded in his chest, the quiet warmth between you suddenly feeling too much, too overwhelming. He wanted to push you away, needed to keep his distance, but for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing,” he admitted, his voice softening for the first time that night.

“I’m not either.” you responded, offering him a small smile. “But it’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

Sae’s chest tightened at your words. The truth was, he didn’t know what this was, what you were doing to him. But for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like pushing it away. Maybe he didn’t need to have everything figured out. Maybe, just maybe, it was enough to sit there next to you, and let the warmth of the moment speak for itself.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

۶ৎ Shidou Ryusei

Shidou Ryusei wasn’t the type to get flustered. His confidence was his trademark, as unmistakable as his chaotic energy on and off the field. He had his charm, his loud, domineering personality that demanded attention, and he was used to having everyone in the room focus on him. So when he found himself thinking about you, and more importantly, finding himself thinking about you more than he’d ever cared to admit, it was a problem.

The whole thing started out of nowhere, as it always did with Shidou. At first, he barely noticed it,just a passing glance when you laughed, the way your smile had this warmth that caught his attention for a second too long. But after that, it was like something inside him snapped. Suddenly, he was aware of every little thing you did.

The way you’d scold him playfully when he took things too far. The way you made sure to give everyone in the room attention, but there was always something in the way your eyes lingered on him that made him feel… different. He couldn’t explain it.

One night, after a particularly grueling session on the field, Shidou found himself walking back to the locker room, and as usual, you were there. Leaning against the wall near the entrance, scrolling through your phone as if the world wasn’t moving a million miles an hour around you. Shidou paused for a moment, noticing how easily you blended in with the background yet somehow managed to stand out to him.

"You're always lurking around, huh?" he called out, voice loud and unbothered.

You looked up, your face lighting up with a small smile. "I’m not lurking. Just, you know, existing."

Shidou smirked, pushing off the doorframe to approach you. He’d always enjoyed getting under people’s skin, but this... this felt different. "You’re good at existing," he teased, walking closer with that cocky swagger of his. "But I didn’t know you were into the whole ‘looking at me’ thing."

You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "You wish."

“Is that so?” His gaze was playful, teasing, but there was a sharpness to it, something different in his tone that caught you off guard.

It had been a while since Shidou’s attention had ever really stayed on one person for long. People were either in his way, or they were irrelevant. But for some reason, you weren’t either of those things. You were different. And it was driving him crazy.

“So, what’s up?” you asked, pushing yourself off the wall, walking toward him. “Done tormenting everyone else for the day?”

"Someone has to keep them on their toes." he grinned, crossing his arms. But the grin faltered for a moment, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "But you? You’ve been acting weird around me lately."

You stopped in your tracks, tilting your head slightly, genuinely curious. "Weird? How so?"

Shidou couldn’t hide the glint of annoyance mixed with something else in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being so disoriented, especially when it came to someone like you. "You’ve been… paying too much attention. Normally, you just brush me off like everyone else. But now? You’re always there, watching me."

There was a brief silence between you two. Shidou’s eyes were searching yours, and despite the usual cocky attitude he wore like armor, you saw something more vulnerable beneath the surface,a hint of insecurity that he would never admit to anyone else.

“Well, I guess you’re a little… hard to ignore,” you finally said, your voice light but your eyes serious. “You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

Shidou’s face twitched. "You think I’m loud, huh?"

"A little bit..." you shrugged, trying to keep the teasing tone light.

Shidou scoffed, but his eyes softened slightly. He couldn’t help but laugh at your bluntness, even if it irritated him. "Tch, you’re not making this easy, are you?"

You smiled, taking a small step forward, and for the first time, you could see a flicker of something unguarded in his eyes, a quiet, unexpected softness that didn’t match the usual fire of his personality. "Not everything is easy, Shidou."

For a moment, he stood frozen. The usual arrogant and fiery Shidou Ryusei, the one who never let anyone in, was suddenly unsure, vulnerable even. He couldn’t quite figure out what was happening, but the way you stood there, calm and patient, was making him feel things he wasn’t used to feeling.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he muttered under his breath, his voice gruff.

You took another step closer, tilting your head slightly as you watched him, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. "You want me to stop?"

“No.” Shidou’s response was immediate, almost too quick. His gaze dropped to the ground for a split second, before snapping back to you. “You don’t get to mess with my head like this, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow. "Mess with your head?"

“Yeah...” he grumbled, looking anywhere but at you. “You’ve got me thinking about shit I don’t want to.”

The words hung between you, heavy with something unspoken. You could sense it now, the way his usual cocky exterior had cracked just enough to reveal the truth he hadn’t been able to face: he liked you.

Shidou let out an exaggerated sigh, his usual bravado coming back, but it was clear something had shifted. "You better not start acting all innocent now, alright?"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I’m not the one acting weird, remember?"

“Yeah, yeah” he muttered, rolling his eyes but still looking at you. For once, the grin on his face didn’t reach his eyes, he was still trying to sort out everything he was feeling. But at least now, he wasn’t pushing you away. He wasn’t sure what this was, or where it was going, but for the first time in a long time, Shidou wasn’t willing to walk away.

“I guess you’re stuck with me for now” you said lightly, smiling as you stepped back, preparing to leave.

Shidou watched you go, his chest tight with something unfamiliar but undeniably strong. For once, he didn’t want to chase you away. He didn’t want you to leave.

And as you disappeared into the distance, he muttered under his breath, his smirk returning but a spark of something real in his eyes. “Tch, you’ve got no idea what you’re getting yourself into, huh?”

© 2025 rinsthighsweat — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform!

[ryuzakistoe]

Conflicted (Michael Kaiser x Fem!reader)

angst, fem!reader, arguing, and uhhh basically all angst, childhood friends, swearing

a/n: after this I honestly have no idea who to do next. I'm kinda in between Isagi again or someone else🤷‍♀️

I also got this as inspiration

BTW IM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE

(omg I finally got it to work omg)

——

Experiencing someone you love deeply suddenly transform into a stranger can feel like the ground has fallen away beneath you. The trust you placed in them, the cherished memories, the laughter shared—all of it can vanish in an instant, leaving you grappling with an unbearable emptiness.

In the face of such devastation, some cling desperately to hope, convinced that the past can be reclaimed. They construct fragile illusions to shield themselves from the harsh truth, believing that everything will somehow return to the way it was. But these comforting lies only deepen the wounds, which lie temporarily closed, waiting to reopen with even more agony.

How long could you endure this torment? Some carry this weight for a lifetime, while others crumble under the pressure far too soon. For you, how long will you hold on, waiting for that moment when you perhaps see him again? How long until the heaviness of his “explanation” crushes you? In the end, when the truth finally pierces through the lies you've built around your heart, how will you cope with the devastation and lies?

Thats up to you.

…🥀…

Frequent moves were a normal part of your life, given that your father, a businessman, was always busy either supporting or establishing new companies. Over time, you became accustomed to the constant change, no longer feeling as upset or frustrated about leaving behind new memories and friends.

With your mother having sadly passed away, your father was the only family you had. However, his demanding schedule often kept him away, leaving you with too much free time. You would often wander aimlessly, your father always worrying since you were still so young.

One day, during one of these aimless walks, you noticed a boy around your age dressed in dusty, worn clothes, playing with an old, worn out soccer ball. You found yourself standing there, captivated, as he skillfully shifted the ball from one foot to the other. The fluid motion of his dribbling drew you in, sparking a sense of fascination.

Eventually, the boy noticed your quiet admiration.

"Can I help you, gnädige Frau?" he asked, his thick German accent coloring his voice as he stopped the ball under his foot.

Since arriving in Germany a few months ago, you had made steady progress with the language. Your father insisted you familiarize yourself with the formalities and learn a good number of words, as speaking German would be essential for getting by.

"I was just watching you play," you replied, mirroring his language and matching the casual energy in his tone.

He regarded you for a moment, as though sizing you up, before speaking again. "Do you know how to play? Fußball, meine ich," he said, his expression unreadable.

You hesitated briefly. While you were familiar with the basics and rules of football, you'd never actually played it. Your most significant experience with the sport had been attending a game with your cousin—an exciting memory, but that was as far as it went.

"I'm not sure how to play, but I understand the basics and the rules," you admitted, glancing briefly at the soccer ball.

"Only the basics, huh?" he murmured, flicking the ball up with the same foot that had held it steady. It flew in the air before dropping neatly into his arms.

The blonde boy began to walk toward you, his gaze fixed on you the entire time. Stopping just a few feet away, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Y/n L/n," you answered softly.

"Y/n L/n…" he echoed, as if testing the sound of your name on his tongue. His eyes drifted to the side, and he repeated your name again, his tone thoughtful, as though trying to commit it to memory or decipher some hidden meaning within it.

“And what's your name?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at his peculiar behavior.

The blonde boy seemed to snap out of his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours again. "Michael Kaiser," he replied.

Without warning, he tossed the ball toward you, giving you no time to react. It landed between your feet, and you glanced down at it slowly.

"Kick the ball," he instructed.

You looked back up at Kaiser, processing his words. Kick the ball? That sounded simple enough. You positioned your foot carefully, recalling how professional players did it, and swung your leg forward.

The ball rolled back to Kaiser with surprising smoothness, considering you had little experience with football.

Catching it effortlessly with his foot, Kaiser smirked. "Not bad for someone who doesn't know how to play," he remarked.

You weren’t sure if he was being genuine or just mocking you. "Thanks," you mumbled quietly, watching as he shuffled the ball between his feet.

He suddenly paused, then said something that caught you off guard. "Play with me."

You raised an eyebrow. "But I told you, I don’t really know how to play."

"I'll teach you," he responded almost instantly, his tone carrying a hint of urgency. There was a longing in his voice, and you could understand why. It had clearly been a while since he'd had anyone to play with.

Kaiser was always alone. The other kids avoided him, seeing him as an oddball because of his scruffy clothes, unkempt hair, and the bruises that covered him—marks left by his father. They treated him like an outcast, believing there was something wrong with him.

While they ignored him, Kaiser watched from a distance, wishing he could join in, longing for the kind of companionship they took for granted.

He would often imagine himself in the place of one of the other kids, letting his mind create a vivid scene of joining in and having fun. It was as if his consciousness played alongside them while his real body stayed behind, observing from a distance.

But now, he had a real chance to play with someone, no longer just imagining the experience.

Kaiser began teaching you everything he knew about football. You didn’t become an instant expert, but you quickly gained a better understanding of the sport. It started simply, with the two of you passing the ball back and forth while he explained the basics. Gradually, he introduced more advanced moves, each one more challenging than the last.

Before long, you had learned almost everything he had to teach, and Kaiser was genuinely pleased. Finally, he had someone to share the game with—a real companion, not just a daydream.

Day after day, whenever your father was busy with work, you met up with Kaiser. The two of you would play quick soccer matches, though Kaiser usually came out on top. It didn’t matter to him who won; having someone to share his favorite pastime with was all he had ever wanted as of right now.

You found yourself enjoying his company too. Since moving here, you hadn’t had anyone to talk to, spending most of your free time wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar places. Meeting Kaiser changed that. He had become an important part of your life, and you could tell that he felt the same.

The time you spent together brought you happiness, and the bond you shared grew stronger with each passing day. But then, a few years later, everything began to change.

…🥀…

Kaiser was well aware of his growing feelings for you. He wasn’t oblivious; he knew all too well the risks of letting them show. But that didn't stop them from deepening. It only made it harder to ignore.

After years of hard work, he finally secured a spot on Bastard München’s football team—a dream realized, and you had been there through it all. You were always by his side, ready to support him whenever he needed it. You were the person he could lean on, and that meant everything to him.

Over time, he came to depend on you. There were days when it felt like you were the only one who truly understood him, when he found himself seeking you out for solace. Your presence brought him a sense of calm that no one else could.

He began to rely on you.

It was inevitable, really. Being around someone as steadfast and caring as you, his feelings naturally began to shift and grow into something more.

He started to notice the way his gaze lingered on you whenever you spoke, how his cheeks would flush at the sight of your smile. He noticed how much weight your words carried with him, how the sun seemed to light up your skin in a way that drew him in. He couldn’t ignore the warmth that bloomed inside him just from seeing you.

He began to notice everything. And as much as he loved these feelings, he hated them just as much.

This was exactly what he was afraid of—this so-called "love" that threatened to unravel him. The thought of being vulnerable, of exposing that side of himself, terrified him. As his reputation as the "Emperor" grew, so did his fear of appearing weak.

His skills, his ego, and you—they had all shaped who he was and brought him to this point. He couldn’t afford to risk that. It was only natural that he didn’t want to gamble away everything he had worked for. Throwing it all away over a feeling seemed like the height of foolishness.

But was all the arguing and shared anger really worth it?

No, not at all.

…

"Y/n, is it really that hard for you to just listen to me?”

"But why…? Why now?"

The look Kaiser gave you was unfamiliar, his eyes now cold and distant. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

How did it come to this?

…

In the past few days, something had changed in him. The warmth that once lit up his face whenever he saw you had vanished, replaced by a faint scowl. The way he looked at you now—like you were just another bothersome fan—stung in a way you couldn’t understand. Sometimes he would just ignore your presence entirely, leaving you in silence.

"Y/n, I won't say it again. Please, for once, just listen and go. I don’t want to see you right now."

"But Michael! You still haven't told me why!" The desperation in your voice hung in the air, unanswered.

But It was as if Kaiser had just… snapped. Was it your endless questions? Your desperate pleas? Or maybe it was the look in your eyes each time he tried to brush you off.

"You want the truth, Y/n? Fine. Just looking at you makes me sick!"

His words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. What did he mean? Had he always felt this way? If so, for how long? Were you too much for him?

A storm of thoughts swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last, as you felt the sting of tears welling up.

"Michael… what…?" you whispered, your voice trembling and barely audible.

"You make me feel sick, Y/n. Nauseous." His tone was sharp, laced with irritation, as if the very act of saying it exhausted him.

A couple of tears managed to form in your eye sockets as you quietly murmured, “Michael…but why? Why do I make you feel like this? Was it something I did..—”

Kaiser clenched his jaw, frustration and bitterness seething beneath his words. How could you be so clueless?

“Yes, Y/N, you did do something—no, you did everything!” he burst out. “Every time you smile, I can’t look away. Your stupid hair falls just right and it’s distracting. Your annoying voice—it calms me, like some kind of spell. And your eyes, the way they look at me… I feel sick because of the warmth you put in my stomach. I hate that I look forward to your presence, that you’re all I think about, that I’ve developed these feelings for you—I hate it all!” His fists tightened, a mix of embarrassment and anger rising to his face.

Your eyes widened. Was this a confession? Were these compliments or just veiled insults? What was he trying to say?

You stared at him, speechless, before managing to whisper, “Michael… you… you have feelings for me?”

Kaiser glanced away, reluctant to admit it. But there was no denying it—this was, in its own way, almost a confession.

Mind you, Almost, a confession.

"I wish I didn’t." His voice was low, almost resigned, and you couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips. Why would he want to bury something as powerful as this? It didn’t make sense.

"Michael… " you spoke, your voice barely a whisper. "Why would you wish these feelings away? I… I could feel the same way about you, you know…"

He shook his head slowly, as if each movement was a struggle. When he spoke, his tone was firm but tinged with something that resembled sorrow. "It doesn't matter, Y/n. Even if you do, I can't accept it. I can’t accept us."

His words hit you like a cold gust of wind. "You mean… you wouldn't be able to return my feelings?" Your chest tightened as you forced out the question, though deep down, you already knew the answer.

Michael's silence was answer enough, but still, you couldn’t let it end there. "Well," you began, the words stumbling out before you could stop them, "I guess that’s just too bad because… I really do have feelings for you." Your voice wavered slightly, betraying how hard it was to admit, but the truth had taken root too deeply to be ignored.

You had begun to realize it months ago, maybe even longer. The symptoms of love crept in slowly, almost imperceptibly at first—the way his presence made you feel more alive, the longing to hear his voice even when he wasn’t around, the flutter in your chest with every small gesture. Now, standing in front of him, all those little moments coalesced into something undeniable. Yet, here you were, offering your heart to someone who refused to hold it.

You found yourself looking forward to every visit with him, craving the moments you could be near. Even though you saw each other regularly, it never felt like enough. You often caught yourself inventing excuses just to stay a little longer, clinging to each second as if it might be your last chance to be close.

Your gaze drifted toward him, hoping to catch his eye and find some sign of understanding there. But instead of meeting your gaze, he looked away, his expression guarded.

"As I said before, Y/n, I can't," he repeated, his voice steady but distant.

Frustration surged within you, a knot tightening in your chest. Why couldn’t he just explain? Why was he so determined to keep you at arm's length? "Michael, for heaven’s sake, just tell me why!" you demanded, your voice rising with a mix of irritation and desperation. "Why can’t you? We could figure this out… it doesn’t have to be this way."

You were exhausted—tired of the same vague answer, the same unyielding response. "I can’t" wasn’t good enough anymore. You needed the truth, a real reason to justify the wall he kept building between you.

Kaiser noticed the edge in your voice, and frustration flared in his eyes as he responded, his tone sharper than before. "Because I can't risk everything I’ve worked so hard for, Y/n! I’ve fought so hard to get where I am now, and I can't afford any distractions—not even love."

Distraction?

You blinked, his words hitting you like a slap. He thought this—whatever was between you—was just a distraction?

"H-huh…?" you breathed, the word barely audible as it slipped from your lips.

Kaiser tilted his head back, a bitter sigh escaping him as his jaw clenched in obvious irritation. "Did you not understand what I just said?" His voice dripped with exasperation, as though explaining himself was an exhausting chore.

You felt your brows draw together in a scowl, his words twisting in your mind. Of course, you heard him loud and clear, but all you could focus on was how cruel and dismissive he sounded. This whole "distraction" excuse felt like nothing but bullshit—a convenient shield to hide behind, rather than an honest reason.

"Is that what I am to you?" you said, your voice quivering with anger. It seems as if this was just another excuse of his.

His answer left you both hurt and furious, a bitter mix of emotions twisting inside you. Sure, you finally got the explanation you’d been pushing for, but this? This was what he had to say?

"Love… a distraction?" you echoed, your voice strained as you struggled to keep your composure. "Michael, are you serious right now?" You could barely recognize the man standing before you; this wasn’t the Michael Kaiser you thought you knew.

"Do I look like I'm making this up, Y/n?" he shot back, his tone icy and unyielding. "I can’t let anything interfere. I've worked too hard for what I have, and I won't risk losing it all just to chase after some fantasy. I can’t afford to be blinded by ‘love.’ I can’t afford to be weak. Not now." He took a step closer, his gaze piercing into yours.

You stared into those familiar blue eyes—eyes that once looked at you with warmth and admiration. Now, they were cold and hollow, carrying only frustration and something far more unsettling: emptiness. It was like staring into the eyes of a stranger, someone who had shed any trace of the person you thought you cared for.

"I want to be the best, and I can’t do that with emotions weighing me down," he said, his tone harsh and unyielding. "I need a clear path, free from distractions. Do you even realize how much I stand to lose if I let the smallest thing pull my focus? I could lose everything. I could end up weak… and that’s something I refuse to accept."

His words felt like a cold slap, each one slicing through you. "I’ve sacrificed so much just to get where I am today. So there it is, Y/n. I won’t let these emotions derail me. Not even for you."

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, a silent testament to the heartbreak squeezing your chest. Was this really it? Was he just going to leave you behind because you didn’t fit into his perfect, distraction-free life? It felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath you.

"This is bullshit, Michael," you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "You’re just going to drop me like that? After everything? After all the times I’ve been there for you, stood by your side, supported you through every step of your soccer career—this is how you repay me? Do you even realize how messed up that is?"

Your voice rose, trembling with the frustration and betrayal burning inside you. "You can’t just cut me out because I don’t fit neatly into your plans. Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Anger flared in his eyes, and his voice rose, laced with frustration. "Yes, Y/n, I’m going to leave you! Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for. I’ve come too far to let ‘love’ make me weak—I’ll lose it all!"

"Why can’t you see that love won’t make you weak?" you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.

"Tch. I already told you—it’s a distraction," he shot back, his tone cold and dismissive.

Each word felt like a dagger, piercing deeper as he repeated the same relentless argument, as if mocking the very idea of you. He was unyielding, his walls built so high that nothing you said could seem to reach him.

"So that’s it, then?" you murmured, your voice trembling as tears stung your eyes. "All of it? All of this—even me—it’s just a distraction?"

For a split second, something in his expression wavered. The guilt in his eyes betrayed him as he saw the hurt etched across your face. But just as quickly, he masked it, his pride and stubbornness locking him in place. He stayed silent, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out but refused to let himself.

The truth was, when you first told him how you felt, a spark of joy had flickered inside him—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. But now, with every pained word that left your lips, he buried that feeling deeper, forcing it down beneath the weight of his ambition. He couldn’t afford to let you see it. He couldn’t afford to let himself feel it.

It pained him to see you like this, knowing he was the cause. He never intended to hurt you like this—never imagined he’d be the one to break your heart.

Of course, his ambitions meant more to him than his "best friend." That was the cruel truth—his future outweighed everything, even you.

The silence stretched between you until you finally broke it, your voice trembling. "Is that a yes or a no, Michael? Please… just answer me."

His gaze softened at the sight of you, your face etched with desperation and pain. He truly felt bad—guilt clawed at him—but he couldn’t let it sway him. He believed this was necessary. He believed it was for the best.

"Yes," he said quietly.

The word hit you like a blow, and your head dropped, a broken breath escaping your lips. You never thought it would come to this—never imagined this was how the two of you would part ways.

Quiet sobs began to slip from you, growing louder with each passing second as tears streamed down your cheeks. Soon, the dam broke, and you were wailing into your hands, trying in vain to wipe away the endless flow of tears. Your heart ached with a hollow emptiness that spread through your chest—the same emptiness that Michael once filled, now torn wide open.

It felt as though a piece of you had been ripped away. You and Michael had been through hell and back together, always supporting and lifting each other up. Now, there was a cold, hollow place in your heart where he used to be, a void that felt unbearable.

After a moment, you forced yourself to look up, only to see him walking away, the distance between you growing with every step.

"Michael… mein Schatz… come back… please…" you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't do this without you…" But he was already too far to hear, your pleas swallowed up by the empty space between you.

Kaiser kept his eyes on the ground, watching his own feet carry him further away. He didn’t dare look back. "Goodbye, meine Liebe…" he murmured softly, the words escaping like a breath.

a/n: so I actually kinda took my time with this so I hope its better 😐

Also I just rewatched aot, tell me why I forgot how FINE jean was in s4🤧😫 (and Levi)

ANDDD IM ROCKING WITH BLLK S2🤤

I'm going to lick his tattoos bro

[aesterblaster]

Sleepin Demons

How Blue Lock characters wake up from nightmares/How you can comfort them [Gender neutral reader]

Tropes: Reverse Comfort, Fluff/Angst, Established Relationship, and general warnings for some gore and mentions of flashbacks along with implied sexual harassment

Characters: Almost All Of Them Lol

Songs: Insecure - Bren Joy // Coffee for Dinner - Orion Sun // Broken Clocks - SZA

The Silent Type + Actual Memories

It's the same one again. He's right back where he started. Unloved, unknown, left out of everything. The pangs of hunger run through him like a freight train as he desperately runs from room to room in his childhood home...But there's no nourishment. Someone calls his name but all he feels is fear at being recognized, he cowers as a figure rounds the corner and says his name again. "You think you could get away from me? Huh?" It could be anyone, a parent, someone he used to owe money to, an old abusive coach, all he knows is what comes next is going to hurt. "Are you fucking crying? You're so pathetic, soon everyone else will see that just like I always have!" The floor begins to sag and give way, everything creases in on itself. His brain feels like it's going to explode.

When he wakes up- his brain still feels as if it's too big for his skull, pushing against the edges like it's trying to find its way out. But he doesn't groan in pain, and he doesn't move. You're next to him after all, breathing softly. The moonlight grounds him, your hand against his side grounds him, he is safe now. The best thing you can do is stay asleep. He isn't ready to talk and admit that he's weak (or even worse...the fact that it is okay to be weak sometimes), not yet. For now he just snuggles against you and quietly brushes away any residual tears, thanking everything he believes in that he's here with you now.

Kaiser, Hiori, Naruhaya, Noa, Lorenzo

The Silent Type + More Abstract Fears

Slow. Everything was moving so fucking slow around him. His body was falling apart. Every sinew, every cell, every fucking atom of his being was breaking down and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Was this what he was truly destined for, dust to dust? Strangely enough, it didn't hurt, everything was calm. He was dying, so what? Every star burns out. And then, as sharp as a clap of thunder, the pain arrived. In his heart, not his body. Images of friends, family, trophies, all the things he hadn't done yet and you surged through his head. No, he couldn't die, not yet! He gripped his arm, but it was already turning to dust. Irrelevant and forgotten.

He's almost surprised when he wakes up, remembers that that would be impossible. Wants to scoff at himself for being afraid of something that could never happen. But the truth is, he is going to die someday, no matter how big of a star he is. He watches you twitch in your sleep, obviously disturbed by how he jerked awake, and curls his arms around you. He presses his face to the top of your head and breathes you in, silently begging you to drift back into a deeper sleep. He just needs to savor every moment with you and stop worrying, he tells himself.

Snuffy, Nagi, Ego, Aryu, Reo, Kuon, Chris, Jin

Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Reassurance

Why was this happening? You were in his arms, covered in blood, he was covered in blood; It was everywhere. The cheering from the fans turned into screaming, that's when he should've stopped and had the damn sense to look around. Instead, he kept running and dribbling down the field, confused why nobody was stopping him. He didn't see you falling from the stands until you were right in front of him. Your arm twisted first, then your neck, the rest of you followed. Why was this happening? "No, no, no, no...(Y/N). Get help! What the fuck are you all standing around for?!" He took off his jersey and tried to stop the bleeding but it wasn't enough, you were already going cold. He was powerless.

"I said get help-!!" he roared. "Oh..oh fuck." He suddenly wasn't holding your limp body anymore, he was in his- your room. The smell of blood disappeared. He glanced over and made eye contact with you. "Are you okay? You're shaking like a leaf!" "No..can you, can you just come here?" He crushes you in a bear hug as soon as you do. Even when he lets up, he opts to hold your hand instead. He makes you tell him about your day, because he got in late when you were already asleep. He tells you how much he loves you and recounts the day you two met just to stop his heart from bursting. "S-sorry I woke you up, I just- I needed that."

Ness, Niko, Aoshi, Sendo, Gagumaru, Igaguri, Kurona

Wakes Up Screaming + Needs Some Space

The first thing he notices is that he can't breathe. The second thing he notices is that he is in a hospital. "No, I don't think he will ever be able to speak or move again." a voice he doesn't recognize claims. Someone is choking him and he can't stop them. It's himself, rabid, foaming at the mouth. The doppelganger realizes he's been caught and tightens his grip. "That's right, that's what you fucking get for ignoring yourself. You don't even fucking eat enough and you want to be a star, huh? You keep betraying yourself." His neck is lifted from the cold pillow. "And betraying yourself!" It's slammed back down. He wants to tell him to stop, to say anything, but he can't.

He wakes up like he's been jolted back to life by electricity, doesn't even realize he's screaming. "Baby, baby you're okay! It's okay." He feels your hands around him and feels ashamed instead of relieved. What the fuck was that?! "Just go back to sleep, I'll be back." You open your mouth to argue but he shakes his head. "Please." This is nothing you can help him with, he needs to take care of himself and he knows it. Can't keep relying on others to pull him out. He takes a cold shower and comes back to bed hours later, slipping next to you. "I'm sorry I scared you." is all he says as his hands glide over your back. It's best if you just accept his apology, you'll never fully understand the war he's having with himself.

Chigiri, Kenyu, Kunigami, Kira, Sae, Barou

You Wake Him Up + It's Not Okay

Of course he knows this is a fucking dream, how could it not be? The overwhelming lights, the strange woman putting her hands on his chest. He knows exactly what this is about too. The paparazzi have gotten way too comfortable following both you and him around, they keep asking invasive questions and posting up outside of your house. The lack of privacy should be illegal. "You're famous now, you should like this you ungrateful piece of shit." a voice hisses in his ear as another pair of hands massages his shoulders. He tenses and struggles, but more hands appear, grabbing at his clothes. They tear pieces away from him with no remorse and something deep inside of him wishes it could end- Scratch that, every part of him wishes this would end, the violation, the rumors, the-

"Hey! Are you alright? I think..I think that you were having a nightmare." He gasps, so the feeling of hands on his chest were yours. Everything that was tensed relaxes, it was just you. That doesn't stop all his feelings from welling up along with tears. "Can you not touch me right now?" God, he wishes you wouldn't look at him like that. "Are you crying?" "No." He slips out of bed and checks the curtains, he can't shake the feeling of foreign hands on every part of him, not just his chest. Disgust curls and uncurls in his stomach. Why couldn't he just fight back on his own in his own damn head? "There's no one out there-" "How do you know!? Huh?" he demands, a whole lot louder than he meant to. "Fuck wait..I'm sorry. This week has just been a lot." You two end up having a long and needed talk that night.

Lavinho, Reo, Oliver, Rin, Raichi, Tabito

You Wake Him Up + It's Okay

He has been walking in circles for hours. Each loop, though, something changes. At first it was funny, (someone's head would balloon to an impossible size or a sign would read a curse word instead of an actual street name, for example) but now he was just tired. He couldn't sit down though or this burning pain would shoot through him...Just like in the real world, if he ever stopped shining, if he ever stopped moving forward, he'd get this feeling like he wasn't doing enough. Even on vacations there would be a gnawing sense that he was running from his rightful title. All he needed was the spotlight, even if it took so much fucking effort to get there. Practicing the same kicks over and over again, walking in circles, looking for what would excite him next-

"Please stop kicking me..." you groan and he wakes up instantly. Honestly, he didn't realize how terrifying his dream was until he's lucid. "Was I kicking you? Sorry... I just had the weirdest dream, it was like I kept walking in circles and I couldn't stop." "Maybe that's your brain telling you to take a break and stop treating my shin like a soccer ball." You two continue to make light of it and the more he talks about it with you, the more relaxed he gets. He's going to be just fine, especially with you by his side. "Mnh, good night." you finally whisper, cuddling up against him and tangling your leg with his in a final attempt to prevent any future attacks. "Good night." He watches you fall asleep with love in his eyes and wonders how a job obsessed weirdo like him managed to land someone as perfect as you.

Bachira, Loki, Isagi, Shidou, Nanase, Otoya, Zantetsu,

[mdsbabygirl]

ITOSHI RIN HEADCANONS

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Itoshi Rin x FEM!reader

Note: it's kinda rushed and overly cute but I like it, so that's what matters.. Anyhow, so sorry for my long hiatus, as I promised here's the rinrin headcanons and I'll try to do better when I'll have some more time.. istg those German classes are killing me ughhh

ALSO NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

Rin can come across as extremely aloof and stoic, but secretly, he’s really clingy and can be jealous when it comes to you. He’s the type to want all your attention on him.

He’s also super protective and tends to be pretty dominant over you as much as he can be, but also secretly likes when you pamper and spoil him.

He is cold and blunt towards others, but when it comes to you, you get to see a more gentle and softer side.

Rin tends to show his love for you through his actions rather than words. He'd always be touching you(not in a sexual way), caressing you, holding your hands,  whatever.. this man NEEDS to have his hands on you otherwise he'd feel like he's missing something.

Rin is also the type to enjoy spending quality time with you. It doesn't matter if it's on a cute date or just when you watch him training, Rin will always enjoy having you around. You're his anchor, you ground him and keep him in check, so obviously he wants you around him all the time.

He's the type to always make you sit on his lap when y'all are alone.. yes alone, I repeat alone, this man will not be showing any signs of PDA whatsoever, he has a reputation to keep lol. Anyways, he enjoys having you close, feeling your warm body pressed against his makes him feel a sense of calmness and belonging, makes him forget all his worries and just relax. It doesn't matter if you're sitting next to him or standing a few feet away from him, he will grab you and put you on his lap.

He'd also press gentle kisses on your skin, just soft pecks, before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet cutie scent. He'd slightly smile against your skin, he feels true happiness when he's with you, he's very grateful to have you.

Rin is the type of bf that enjoys being pampered and spoiled, but he'll never admit it ... NEVER.. but hey he still lets you do his skincare because he hates seeing you whining and pouting like a little brat.. yeah Rin.. ofc, it's just because you can't stand our fussing not because you secretly enjoy it.

Rin who loves cuddling you to sleep, his favorite position being the big spoon or embracing you face-to-face. Still no matter what position u guys are in, he always caresses your sides or your hair, and plants tender kisses on you, in silence. I feel like Rin would enjoy these calm moments because it gives him a break from all the action and competition of his soccer career, and gives him this feeling of safety and grounding; this man just adores having you in his arms.

But when it's late at night and, you're cuddling, embracing while facing each other, he'd press his forehead against yours, look you deeply in the eyes, and go on with the loveliest most romantic love confession you've ever heard.

"Babe, I'm so In love with you that I need you every second. You light up my world and my heart. I swear to keep loving you, to treasure you, and to always have your back. I love you, baby! I really do; and I can't wait to keep sharing our life together." You'd be surprised and you'd ask him if he really meant all that, and with the most honest and love struck look he'd say, "of course sweetheart, you're the love of my life! I meant everything I've just said" before kissing your lips and going to sleep.

He's such a sweetie when he wants to be ✨💞.

© mdsbabygirl do not copy or translate my works without my permission.

[fumiscripts]

🃁 IN THE SPOTLIGHT

fic masterlist . next chapter

You love the attention. You basked in it.

The ball slammed into the net, and people cheered. Cheered for you. It was another match where you hogged the spotlight, keeping everyone’s eyes on you. The adrenaline’s still pumped through your veins, and through the ring of all the acknowledgement, you catch the sound of the final whistle blowing, signaling the end of the game.

Your afterglow from that victory was too short for your liking. How disappointing. Then again, the opponents really weren’t all that.

Seeing the 6-1 in your favor was satisfying, though. All your goals. You expected nothing less from yourself.

That match was the regionals for the little tournament your team was in, and because of you, they’re making it to nationals. They should be glad you’re on their team. You, as their striker, practically carried them. In your opinion, the club would’ve been down the dumps if it weren’t for your presence. You found yourself hardly caring, despite it. As long as they continued their job of solely following you in the field, you’d gladly play the role of their savior.

After recollecting yourself, you trudged off the field. Everything that came after was a positive haze, a routine you’ve gotten used to, but can never get tired of. The praise from your teammates, coach, friends— to the present reporters pulling you aside to monopolize your time. Of course, you were ecstatic about the attention.

Microphones were shoved in front of you, recording every answer you gave out from their questions. Cameras flashed, and you gave your award-winning smile at every click of a photo. Amongst the blinding lights, you catch a pair of eyes staring at you. Of course, you knew there were always people staring at you— but this was different. She was assessing you. Perhaps a scout?

Whatever that look was for, you were sure it wasn't just a bystander staring.

You were right. It wasn't just a bystander staring.

〈 YOU’VE BEEN SELECTED FOR A SPECIAL PLAYER TRAINING PROGRAM.

– Japan Football Union 〉

The letter you received sure was interesting— why was it a letter, anyway? Couldn't it have just been an email?

But besides that, it was interesting. It was short and concise, with a brief explanation, a time, and a place in its contents. Very shady, but boredom really made you want to take it. It could be an opportunity for you to shine in an even brighter spotlight, an upgrade from a third-rate platform to the main stage. The location was very familiar to you, anyway, so this should be an official message.

You found yourself in the address given in the paper— a rather worn down building, but it was a place you grew semi-accustomed to— and entered the property. The halls were as plain as ever, you noted, as you stood in front of a set of dark double-doors. Opening it, you were greeted by what seems like an entire batch of people. Significantly more teenage boys in a single room than you can count.

Despite wanting to, you didn’t comment on it. You instantly felt their stares turn to you the moment you stepped into the room, and you remained unyielding under the pressure of the multiple gazes. In fact, you felt good that your presence was being seen, even more so when a good handful of them seemed to recognize who you were. You could say the vibes you gave off demanded attention.

“–Test. One, two,”

You heard a whisper through the speakers from who knows where, making you scan across the room to find where it came from. The moment you found it, though, you tried not to walk out the door right then and there.

“Congratulations, you unpolished gems,” the voice boomed through the room. Right at the same time, the lights closed, and a spotlight pointed towards the source: a lanky man who sported a bowl cut and rectangular glasses, Jinpachi Ego. Who, to you, was a very familiar face. “All you under 18 strikers have been chosen solely based on my criteria and biases to be here today. All 300 of you.”

You watched in silence as he introduced himself— really, you only watched, not listened— zoned out with most of his words going in one ear and out the other. He was saying something about making Japan capable of winning the world cup. Japan, winning, and World Cup in the same sentence was something you never thought you'd hear from someone like him. Is he being for real? Maybe you should actually start listening.

“I'll put it into simple terms,” it was then that you caught the projection behind him, showing the Japan flag. “Japan only requires one thing to become the strongest powerhouse in soccer,” he stated, bringing his arms out, in what you think is for adding dramatic effect. “And that is the creation of a revolutionary striker. From you three hundred players gathered here today, I will forge the best striker in the world through a certain project.”

He really talks a lot, you note. “Look here,” Ego prompted, stretching a finger up, “For this purpose, we have built a facility…” the projection behind him switched to a photo of a pentagonal-shaped infrastructure. “Called Blue Lock,” it was composed of what you could guess was five separate buildings, with a stadium in the middle of it. Above the image, ‘Blue Lock’ was a bolded text. A whole facility for this?

You tuned out most of the rest of whatever he was saying— something about living within the building, not being able to go home, and considering your football careers over— you didn't need much of those details, anyway. “If you manage to survive Blue Lock, and defeat the other two hundred ninety-nine players around you…”

Oh? That sentence made you stop tuning his words out. A last-man standing, huh?

“You, the last player standing… will have become the best striker in the world.”

Now, that got you interested.

“That is all for the details,” he remarked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching over. “Nice meeting you all,” he concluded, ready to end it with that. That was, until someone within the crowd raised his hand, retorting his speech.

“Hey! Sorry, but,” he put his hand down. The boy had blond hair, eyebrows stitched together into a frown. You notice that he seemed to have a friend beside him, a guy with black hair and blue eyes. “I can't agree with what you said just now,” he says. He tells of how he can't accept the terms, likely because of the nationals. You can't blame them— if some sketchy man you didn't recognize put you together in a room with hundreds of others, all the while spouting some rant about making the best striker— you'd be skeptical to go forward with it, too.

His words seem to put the crowd on his side. That wasn't surprising, he had a valid point. You watched as they raised their own thoughts too, before turning your gaze towards Ego, who scratched his head, before casually saying they were all fucked in the head, telling them to get lost.

Him and the blond guy had a back and forth. It resembled a heated debate on twitter, to you. Maybe your brain is just weird. Ego then proceeds to say how horrible the Japan football team is, to which you think he has a point. Compared to other countries, it is shit. Mister bowl cut then gave examples of exceptional players, linking them all with the same trait: ego.

The man almost looked like a lunatic— like he was someone who was absolutely insane.

You liked that look. It was something right up your alley.

“You will not become the greatest strikers in the world,” he prompted, an expression that seemed to cut right through all of you plastered on his face. “—unless you have the ego to match.”

Wow, you liked this vibe already.

“My purpose here, is to create such a player in Japan,” he added, lowering his head. “From the corpses of 299 players…” Ego brought a finger up as a gesture to his next words. “One hero will rise in all his glory,” he declared.

“Alright, you unpolished gems. Let me ask you one last question,” the noiret tapped on his temple, pointing to his brain. “Imagine this: you are at the very finals of the world cup,” he started. “Playing under the eyes of 80,000 spectators in the stadium… you are on that very field. The score? 0-0,” Ego added the details, and you noticed how most of everyone followed along with his words. “It’s the stoppage time of the second half. The very last play.”

“A teammate has managed to pass the ball to you. It’s a one-on-one with the goal-keeper,” the vision played in your brain, using the best of your imagination. “There’s a teammate six meters to your right. If you pass it to him, you’ll probably score that goal. The hopes of all of Japan lie on your shoulders. You are at a turning point at the world cup finals…” in your mind, you could see yourself kicking it in without reluctance.

You wouldn’t dare pass when the chance of scoring a goal was right in front of you.

“Without hesitation, you shoot.”

Of course you’d do.

Ego moves to turn his body, facing to the side. “If you desire that rebellious ‘egoism’...” the doors behind him opened, filling the room with light from what’s on the other side. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his free hand behind his back. “Then step through the gate,” a crazed grin stretched along his face. “I’ll say it once more, loud and clear.”

“Football is a sport to develop you all as strikers. Think of literally everyone else on the field as supporting you,” he pointed to the crowd in order to emphasize his point. “When you’re on the field, you are the star.”

Damn right you are.

“Your greatest joy is scoring points, and nothing else,” he said. “You live for the excitement of that very moment,” his grin got eerily wider, his eyes swirling with some sort of drive.

He was right with that. The sake of your goals are the only thing that gets your blood pumping in a game. Whatever drugs Ego’s on, you were starting to crave it, too. Even if you never thought you’d admit that to yourself. Maybe your past self was too judgy. He can be relatable, occasionally.

“Now that’s a striker, don’t you think?”

Suddenly, someone from the crowd steps out, rushing towards the gate— it was that boy next to the other guy that debated with Ego. He seemed to have enabled a chain reaction, as one after another, people rushed forward as well, before everyone was running towards the entrance, uncoordinated.

You knew better than to run along with the crowd and possibly bump into people, so you waited until most of them were a good distance away from you. And you say most, as in the corner of your eye, you spot someone walking the other way, towards the exit, with somebody else chasing after him. You ignored them.

Calmly, you strided over to the gate. You had no need to rush. As you passed by Ego, he spoke up, making you halt in your steps.

“I see you actually made it, [Name],” he remarked, making you glance at him. He was slouching, as always. Head looking down with his horrible posture. “Long time, no see.”

“Still the same as ever, huh, Ego-san?” you reply, adjusting the strap of your carry-on. You turn your head, fully looking at him. “You really gonna do allat?” you ask, referring to his earlier speech about making the best striker. It was a very ambitious goal, but since it was Ego, you could tell it might be possible. A lot less far-fetched if it would be you who remains the last one standing.

Ego nods. “Of course,” he answered. He leans back, looking at the ceiling above before heading to another topic. “You're here to be what the players aim to beat,” the man stated. You weren't sure whether you should be happy about the fact that he acknowledged that you're good enough to be the ideal model in this project, or be offended that he doesn't seem to consider you a contestant worthy of participating to be the best striker.

“Am I just here to set a standard for you?” you scoff, tearing your gaze away from him. You look back forward, walking towards the gates once again. “I’ll beat them all,” you state, confidence lacing your tone. “You know I will.”

He hums, muttering something incoherent under his breath. He tilts his head up, watching you move towards the door. “We’ll see,” he replies to your statement. “Prove yourself worthy of a main role, [name].”

You turn around, catching a glimpse of him looking at you with expectation. You raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging on your face.

“Don’t I already do?”

(a/n) tofumi is here with another fic. no, i'm not okay. I wrote this slop half asleep so mb for any mistakes.

I have plans for this fic TRUST. if you noticed, mc is a bit like gojo. I lowk wanted to try to do a cocky, extroverted mc because most of my mcs are introverted hhh

​​​​​​anw enough yap 👅 next chapter will be next year cause I still have more prep to do

thank you for reading!! 

taglist:: @atlas-atlantic, @shidousprincess, @lakeside-paradise, @shrii-kk

@neversam, @motchilyn, @tired-xyra-urstruly

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

[delulu4anime]

𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝕿𝖔 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖞𝖆𝖗𝖉

🪦𝙿𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚞𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚍.

🪦𝙸 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

🪦𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙰𝙵𝙰𝙱!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🪦 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

🪦𝙳𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚎’𝚜. 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

🪦 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙻𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙴𝚈𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙻𝚈 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙱𝙴𝙳. 𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙽𝙾𝚆.

🇵🇸 𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜🇵🇸

𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶 𝔗𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴋᴀɪ ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ⇥ʀᴏʟᴇᴘʟᴀʏ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔬⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴀᴋɪ ʜᴀʏᴀᴋᴀᴡᴀ⇥ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜰɪxᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴋɪʏᴏᴏᴍɪ, ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ, & ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ⇥ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ʜɪʀᴏᴍɪ ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ⇥ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴅᴀʙɪ⇥ᴄᴀʀ ꜱᴇx

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔖ℑ𝔛⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ ɢᴇᴛᴏ⇥ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔖𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ⇥ᴘᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ & ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʀɪɴɢ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔈𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴇɪ ʙᴀʀᴏᴜ⇥ᴀᴜᴅɪᴇɴᴄᴇ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔑𝔦𝔫𝔢⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ꜱʜɪɴɪᴄʜɪʀᴏ ꜱᴀɴᴏ⇥ᴛɪɢʜᴛꜱ & ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔗𝔢𝔫⇥ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴀɪᴊᴜ ꜱʜɪʙᴀ⇥ᴘʀɪᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔈𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫⇥ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴇᴛꜱᴜʀᴏ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ⇥ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔗𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢⇥ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏꜱʜɪɴᴏʀɪ ʏᴀɢɪ⇥ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ

🪦 𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫⇥ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴡᴀᴋᴀᴛᴏꜱʜɪ ᴜꜱʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ⇥ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫⇥ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴋɪꜱʜɪʙᴇ ⇥ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ

🪦𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔉𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫⇥ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴢᴇᴋᴇ ʏᴇᴀɢᴇʀ⇥ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀxꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ

🪦ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴛᴀᴋᴇʀ, ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴛᴀᴋᴇʀ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏʀ ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ.🪦

[itlogricky]

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Info drop!! :3 • Reqs open, Not fast at uploading because of personal matters, pls read rules !!

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[daebraeksan]

Nagi falls asleep before you because you’re hyped up from an exciting night

Genre: fluff, domestic, established relationship 

Wc: 809

~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*

You vibrate with excitement.

“Slow down,” Nagi says, as your foot gets heavier on the gas pedal as your favorite part of the song starts.

“Sorry,” you say, the normal anxiety you would get at criticism just a pinprick in the vast ocean of your joy.

“It’s okay,” he says easily. After all, he’s happy you’re happy. You think it comes few and far between. But he sees you. And he knows you. He knows you don’t have to be fake with him. It’s an honor he doesn’t take lightly. He knows how you feel happiness is hard to come by, and good memories feel few and far between. He loves seeing you like this. Duh. Of course he would hate to see you sad. But one of his favorite things about you is the expansive joy you feel from the (seemingly) littlest things. It makes life feel…larger than life. 

He also knows exactly how things are going to go down when you both get home. First, you’ll want a snack. If you don’t stop on the way home for drive through  or take out (and this time, you don’t) that means you have something in mind of what you want to eat already—probably something you’ve been thinking about for a while then, since you haven’t eaten in a bit. Far too caught up in the excitement, definitely. You’ll tell him he doesn’t have to stay up with you. You know he knows this. He knows you know. And if he’s left off at a good stopping place (if there is such a thing) in his game, he probably will stay up with you. He’s already half asleep on his feet, anyway. It’s not that he has a bedtime per se (he’s a gamer …so…) but his social battery gets used up a lot faster than yours. Also, you have a lot more energy and care so much more. He doesn’t know how you do it. But it’s all worth it of course. It always is with you.

After your snack, you’ll feel obligated to go to bed. You might even make it so far as to wriggle yourself under the covers with Nagi. By now, Nagi’s eyes will be closed and his head will be on the pillow, even if the lamp on your side of the bed is still on. If he’s not already asleep, he will be drifting into slumber. He’s only human—a very sleepy human to begin with, and now? It’s late. You both are cozy. Even if your energy is very often tangible, it’s still home to him. It’s still comforting, even if it’s electric and hyper and A Lot. You never ask him to stay up with you.  He wishes you would. He would try. He would at least cuddle with you while you watched a movie (and while he slept.) Galavanting on an adventure? At this hour? Maybe not. But hot cocoa and TV would be fine. He knows you don’t want the good days to end. He knows you never want to let go of happy feelings when you have them. He also knows that he’s always going to be there for you no matter what. You don’t have to be afraid of bad days anymore. You don’t have to be afraid of good days never coming back because they will. Nagi can’t “make” you happy—but you’re both happy together. You’re in this together and you’re here for each other. When you’re finally ready to let sleep claim you—and you will, eventually—it’s not as though it’s the night before Nagi goes abroad for a very, very long time and the scarcity mindset kicks in and isn’t technically necessarily wrong that time. That one time.

But now? Today? And tomorrow? You’ll both be here. You’ll both be together. You’ll wake up together—and we both know what that means is you will wake up first and he will wake up after—but you’ll be together, and that’s the point. 

On nights like this, sometimes Nagi falls asleep without telling you good night and that he loves you. He doesn't like doing that. He knows you know. You know. But he knows you like hearing it. He likes telling you. He knows you feel it coming off him in waves, always, enveloping you, enshrouding you, protecting you. Even if you know, it’s no excuse for him not to tell you, since he knows the doubts you’ve had in the past, with other people, and (when you first got to know each other) even with him.

So he will make it up to you in the morning, however you want. He is here for you always. He loves you so much. And that’s all there is to it. He might not always say good night, but he will be there tomorrow to say, “good morning, angel.” 

[lingeringdesires505]

maybe its for the best

rin itoshi x reader

angst

rin can’t stop blaming himself, he knows hes at fault, that hes the reason the two of you had broken up. rin’s life mainly revolved around soccer, until he met you. all his life, his only goal was to beat his brother, itoshi sae, and show him how he too could be good at soccer. little did he know, he would be so caught up in his obsession with competing against his brother would ruin a relationship he had cherished so much.

28 April, 10.58 p.m.

The night you two broke up, it was after one of his late night trainings. despite being tired and burnt out, he still stayed back after training, pushing himself to his limit, in hopes that his skill would be up to par with his brother’s.

you laid in your shared bed with him, wondering when he would come home. his soccer training should have ended at 9 p.m., yet he was still not home. seeing the clock almost striking 11, you became more and more worried about your lover. you had sent him multiple texts, but none were read.

“he must be staying back after training again,” you thought to yourself. despite the constant reminders not to overexert himself, and that he should rest more, rin never listened to you. he would either brush you off, saying it was no big deal and that he wasnt tired, or just ignore you. you understood that he was feeling lots of stress especially with the upcoming soccer match, but you just couldnt stand there and see him destroy himself like this. it certainly wasnt healthy and beneficial for his physical or mental health.

as you reached the stadium, you saw a familiar figure doing his routines.

“rin! ive been worried about you. its already 11 p.m., you should come home and rest!” you called out to him as you ran towards him.

“ just a few more minutes…im almost done. after im done, we can go home, okay? “ he said without looking back to you.

as much as you wanted to let him finish, you could already tell he was extremely tired. the sweat running down his forehead and muscles, the heavy panting that you knew all to well — he was already pushing his limits, if you were to let him continue, he might over exhaust himself, doing more harm than good to his body.

“ rinnie, please, youre at your limit already, please just stop! youre going to hurt yourself at this rate! “ you begged him to stop, but he wouldnt listen. tears started to well up in your eyes as you grew more and more anxious, why wouldnt he just stop hurting himself like this and listen to you?

it wasnt long before rin snapped.

“do you really think im that weak?! besides, what i do to my own body is none of your business! youre just another obstacle in the way of my success, just leave me alone you lukewarm piece of shit, god damn it!” he shouted, his eyes filled with anger as he finally looked over to you.

that was when he realised he fucked up.

his heart ached as he saw hot tears streaming down your red cheeks. no, wait, he didnt mean it!

“please baby, wait, i didnt mean it. im so sorry i said that, please..” he immediately stopped what he was doing to run towards you, forcefully hugging you, frantically apologising.

you didnt say anything. you couldnt say anything. you were in disbelief — the man that you had loved with all your heart, the man that you cared for so deeply, wanted you to leave him alone? was this truly the way he felt about you? just an obstacle? a lukewarm piece of shit?

“baby please, i didnt mean any of that… its all my fault, i know you want the best for me. forgive me please… please, say something!” this time, rin was the one of the verge of tears.

“so that’s how you feel about me?… you want me to leave you alone?…” you managed to stutter out, trying hard not to start bawling on the spot. how could he say something so hurtful?

“fine. if that’s how you want it, dont contact me ever again rin, it’s over between us.”

you ran back to your car before rin could react and slammed the door shut, driving off to your shared apartment to pack your things and move out. you weren’t just angry, you were upset.

you couldnt believe this was how your relationship with rin was going to end. you always thought of rin as someone you would continue to love and care for, someone you would grow old with.

that night, rin laid on the grass in the stadium, looking up at the night sky, head filled with regrets, heart aching.

present

was it really worth it? rin always asked himself. sure, he managed to show to his brother that his soccer skills were excellent, but that didnt make him happy. in fact, after the two of you had broken up, nothing made him happy. how could he be happy without you? he was struggling to even live a day without you.

rin would spend countless sleepless nights scrolling through his photo gallery, looking at photos you had forced him to take with you. the poor man couldnt even sleep without your scent. he would often try and find old articles of clothing you had left behind around the house — it was the only way he could sleep, with your scent.

he would spend many hours training, even if there wasnt any upcoming matches. he was desperate to find any sort of distraction to distract himself from thinking about you.

some nights after training, he prayed that you would still be there outside the stadium, waiting to drive him home. he prayed that he could see you again, hear your sweet voice and hearty laugh again. he was so desperate to hear your voice again, he didnt care if he had to hear your nagging or your complaints, he just needed to hear you again, to see that pretty face of yours.

rin always thought about how foolish he was. before he met you, he felt that unfortunate things always happened to him. he always thought about how terrible and unlucky his life was. that was until he met you. you were like a blessing from heaven, an angel that came and brightened up his dull, lukewarm life. he wished he had known how to appreciate you earlier. if only he had opened his eyes and see how much you had loved and cared for him.

it feels like torture scrolling through your instagram page, seeing you move in with your new boyfriend, seeing you have dinner dates with him. he knows your new boyfriend treats you way better than he ever did, and he feels happy that your being taken good care of, but deep down, his heart was being ripped into shreds. it felt so wrong, but he couldnt stand the thought of you laughing, or smiling for another man. you were already moving on with life, getting ready to marry your boyfriend, and there was nothing he could do about it.

rin accepted that he could never be at peace with himself, especially since he had fucked up the only good thing in his life. it was too late for regrets, the only thing he could do now was make sure that you were safe and happy from afar.

———————————————————————————

thank you for reading!

word count: 1.2k

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@lingeringdesires505 2024

[qinluofu]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤrhodochrosite 🫧 shidou ryusei x gn!reader

in which shidou tries his best to comfort you from your toxic ex rin + asshole rin is very real in this au so beware

sfw work + 400++ wc

"it's me or them"

You couldn’t even look at Rin, trying to hold your tears. You could feel his gaze upon you, as you waited for an answer.

Rin sighs, “don’t make this difficult for me”

“I just want to know”, in your heart you already knew a definitive answer, you just wanted to hear him say it, say it so you can know he doesn’t love you, so you can move on

“I’d choose them”

And that’s all you needed to hear to never look back at him ever again.

You know that feeling when something heavy falls onto your stomach and you start crying uncontrollably? Yeah something like that

During the first day, you lay in bed all day with no appetite for any food and especially the pastries from the coffee shop just down the street (he always bought you the egg tarts). You kept checking for your messages, never blocking Rin just to see what he had to say, staring at the chat histories.

During the second day, everything sinks down to you and you realize you have lost the only person that cared about you. Were you really not enough? You tried to find fault in everything, everyone, but at the end there was still no one by your side.

During the third day, you felt rage inside you. You wanted to ruin his football career, you wanted to ruin his new partner, you almost could feel the motivation to get out of bed and properly confront him, to get the closure you deserved.

because rin isn’t the type of person to just cheat out of nowhere. because rin isn’t the type of person to be able to fake his love for someone for 5 years because you can’t accept the fact that he doesn't want you anymore

shidou knocks on your door. he knows your home, he knows you broke up with rin, he knows your sad.

despite his external layer of brassiness he knows well that its time to invade your personal space and rescue you from the pits of your bed before you suffocate of emotional damage.

shidou has to juggle between beating rin up or giving you a hug, beating rin up can satisfy his personal needs but might intensify your sadness so the latter seems more promising.

you slowly opened the door after knowing it was him after seeing the cameras and he nervously holds out his hands to embrace you, unsure if you would accept his hug.

surprisingly you didn't push him away. his hug felt warm, warmer and more sincere than any hug rin itoshi could ever give you. shidou slowly closed the door and coo's at your crying.

"everything's gonna be fine from now on."

a/n: there's gonna be a part2, i think.. this has been sitting in my drafts for a considerable time so i hope this was fine to read