#itoshi rin fluff

[rinnstars]

youre my world!

in which they accidentally reveal your relationship to the public (and confirms it)

bllk boys x reader (reo, nagi, rin, sae,): fluff, crack, pro-athletes bllk boys, drabbles, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!

reo mikage:

sometimes, contrary to what reo believes, he’s simply impulsive and childish in the face of love - excitedly posting a story of you and him at your favourite cafe, beaming at the way your hands merged with him so well - so well that he posted it to his main public account associated with both mikage corporation and his soccer career in manshine city where everyone witnessed it up for 12 hours before he wakes up to his PR calling him freaking out. to be honest, he thinks it shouldn’t be such a big deal right? its not as if the media hasn’t speculated over his relationship status for months now - from every little jewellery that fits perfectly onto his wrist, neck and fingers, from every visits to designer clothes store, to designer jewellery store, to designer shoe stores bringing out huge shopping bags that make his frame look petite in comparison, from every single photo he posts on his feed that they scruntised from the angle, to the place, to the clothes that seem to belong to a matching set somewhere somehow. its expected some thinks - he’s rich, he’s got a decent career, he’s charming both in looks and personality publicised in front of television for many to swoon over, there’s no way he isn’t taken just yet. but now, the focus that he’s so used to shifts to you, who’s only half a face is revealed but has gathered just as much attention a selfies he posts on social media at the request of his managers. and perhaps he now feels it - the jealousy that runs green at his heart as if its always been there tugging at the red muscle, and suddenly all he wants to do is to keep you in his treasure chest of things only he can have, keep you caged in his warm embrace like after practice forever, keep you safe away from the public side of the world that he’s practically born to face. but right at the same time, he wishes nothing more than to parade you in front of the world that he’s sure he loathes secretly in his heart, to share with the world of hte blessing that the world has given him in the bitter and harsh world, to express his love in the way he knows how to.

he thinks it was fate that he accidentally posted it on the wrong account, and who is he to go against the universe that have led you to him in this lifetime. and so, he posts a photo dump of you and him right on his main account - filled with pictures gathered and kept by him in his phone in a folder, whether that be a picture of you eating that sugary-sweet treat that he can still taste from the kiss he shared with you right after that photo, picture of you with him right after his first ever win in his career beaming ear-to-ear hat he looks at like its his lucky charm till this day, picture of you and him wearing that matching chikawa pajama at his apartment studying late into the night together for your finals together. and next time the reporter asks him, he doesn’t hesitate to profess his love of you to the world as though he’s waited his entire life to confess it out to the world.

nagi seishiro:

nagi seishiro is practically on the hunt list by paparazzis - infamously hard to capture on film not because of his bright white hair that seems to avoid flashes but rather that he rarely goes out of his apartment - and when he does, does the paparazzi goes crazy especially when he leaves his house on a blue moon, hands tangling with someone else’s. to him, it was just another day - dragged by you to go to wherever you want for the day that you surely deserve after sleeping over at his place for the past few days cramming for your assignments and whatnot in a quiet environment that just so happens to be his room whilst he lazes around in his bed playing his game with his earphones on glancing at you unbeknownst to you. it was supposed to be just another lunch date just like any others you’ve been with him, wearing whatever to go to your nearby cafe that practically recognises you and nagi and hides you at the corner booth where he first confessed to you out of pure impulse after seeing you chat excitedly about your interest with such passion he can’t help but feel his heart skip multiple beats at once. and yet here you both are giggling at the edits and theories his fans have came up with in defence against a dating rumour as you two lie on his bed, body practically melted together, limbs tangled with his — whether that be deeming you as his little sister that hes strangely close to, to deeming the photo as a breach of privacy, to deeming the photo as straight up edited. he thinks its sort of funny, isnt it clear you two are clearly together romantically? with his hands wrapped around yours that fits just right like a puzzle piece fitting into one another. his eyes glancing at you as though youre his entire world, his smile that rarely appears on his face as he listens to another of your passionate chats.

and he supposes he must be a pretty passive or straight up bad partner when on his next win, a reporter asks about you in such a demeaning and insulting way that ticks his brain the wrong way. he thinks its too much of a bother to get fired up, he thinks its useless to get all upset and red in the face, he thinks its only fools that let their emotion overtake them — yet its against that comment that he suddenly stands up that surprises his members, the reporters around and even the crowd, his mouth leaning onto the microphone that for the first time speaks of something other than mediocre and uninterested responses but the same passionate tone that he thinks you must be rubbing off him, announcing your relationship with him with nothing but love and pride in his voice. and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t regret it and its no bother to defend you to the world - its you and him against the world anyways.

itoshi rin:

all of this started simply because of rin’s first win in the world cup - pulling at the promise ring attached to his necklace to kiss in celebration that went trending on social media. its not uncommon for football players to celebrate on field or have lucky charms - but for fans to see the logical and detached itoshi rin to indulge in such superstitious habits is unnerving, completely out of character of the cool and calm player that practically overwhelms the field completely. he doesn’t think much of it, youre his lucky charm anyways - every game he makes sure to kiss that polaroid of you that he took of you badly with your new digicam that is slightly blurry and slightly way too bright but he kisses that beam of yours anyways, every game he makes sure to hear that voice message of you wishing him luck in that cheery tone that just makes him replay it over and over until time is up and he practically runs out to the field for the game, and every game he makes sure to dedicate each and every step. kick, turn all to you. he doesn’t get why the reporters keep asking him the same old question - “are you dating someone?” the answer is obviously yes, but that doesn’t mean he can say it - whether it be due to his PR manager, whether that be due to not wanting the media in his personal life, whether that be simply to protect you from the spotlight. its irritating, standing under that spotlight as questions gets thrown at him again and again - all he can think about is you on the stand still waiting for him probably getting cold from the harsh and ruthless wind that your sweater might not be able to keep you warm despite it all, all he can think is the congratulationary kiss you give him after each game that melts both yours and his lips together that makes his entire face go uncharacteristically bright red and his eyes go wide, all he can think about is you so close to running off mid interview again like hes a spoiled child throwing a tantrum as the media described it just to see you a little earlier and spend a little more time with you rather than these irrelevant people. really, not even the harsh critics by the media and fans that compares him to a clone of his brother that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, not even his PR manager’s scoldings and nagging can deter him from running away from all of these to you, and hell hes sure not even if the world ended right in front him right now would he hesitate before running with all hes ever known, even faster than he runs during these matches to get to you, to at least kiss you once last time before you two turn into mash like those zombie movies that perhaps have gotten a little too into his head.

and he ticks his tongue again at that same question. are you dating someone? he sees you from the corner of his eye, walking away from the venue likely going to his car to get some warmth at least, and he cant stand to see you walk alone and so it leaves before he realises. “yes.” one word before he runs as though he’s back right into another life-or-death situation on the field. runs as though that is his only way of salvation, runs as though hes chasing after world - you. and its with you he thinks that he loses that logical and cold persona that everyone forces on him - because with you, hes just itoshi rin, your boyfriend and not any of the names the media and the world wants to throw on him whether positive of negative.

itoshi sae:

every time he goes back to japan, he swears his luck goes all the way down - first time where he goes home and finds out that his middle school had closed down where he went there the morning after, second time where he realises the convenience store he goes to closed down for the very week he was staying, and third time where he finds a photograph of him buying a ring for you going viral online. and he finds out when he sees you giggling hunched over on the other side of the red. his right side feels awfully ice cold without your arms wrapping around his body drooling in your sleep that he’s much more used to. if anything, he’s more surprised that youre awake - he doesn’t know what time it is, a stark contrast to him in spain that’s practically like a robot to the way he automatically wakes up at six on the dot and automatically does his exercise routine on auto pilot - all he knows is that its certainly too early for you to be leaving his side to laugh at god knows what. its only in your apartment that he gets to act all grumpy as though he’s back to been thirteen sleeping over at your house where he spends the night completely awake at your tight embrace on him as though he’s your plushie that’s now on the floor abandoned for his warmth and wakes up completely sleep-deprived that’s remedied by your bright grin. he doesn’t hesitate to turn a little to your side and snake his hands around your waist, his hands fitting right with your body, earning a flinch from you from his ice cold hands that contrasts with your warmth. its only then he realises his surprise has been completely spoiled - its not the only thing the media has pretty much put a dent in his life, constant comparison that drove a wedge deeper into him and his brother relationship, flip-flopping between praise and criticism of each and every of his gameplay on the field that makes him secretly doubt his own self that he doesn’t wish to admit, and now spoiling a surprise he was excited thinking of spending the two of your life together for the rest of eternity. your laugh clears any of the black cloudy joke that hazes over his mind with negative thoughts of self doubt, of insecurities, of irrational fear in your eyes, you don’t hesitate to hold him in your embrace, turning him back to his previous sleeping position - away from your phone, away from any distraction, away from the outside world. and he knows, he knows, even with that surprised spoiled, he’s sure you might just say yes to the diamond ring he still has kept in a dark red box right in his luggage tonight for a home-cooked dinner.

and he supposes he can give the media a glimpse of his life once in a while, playing the disappearance act for a few months as per usual before he posts a photo of you and him - draped in white cloth surrounded by white flowers with you and his friends and family at the side away from the camera, draped in jewelleries that he’s surprising not well-known to in the media that’s picky about the picture-perfect facade of itoshi sae that they have long decided on, draped in each others tugging at each other with nothing but love between both of you. in this world, its you and him whether or not with the media included or not, but he can’t help but to show you off to the world his angel can he?

[rindreamery]

to be loved is to be seen.

the little things that the blue lock men do for you as their way of saying, "i love you." featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku ─ content: fluff

note. spreading down bad bllk men agenda 🫦 finals is this week, so that means i will not be able to write at all for 3-4 days, so i just wanted to pop this out rlly quickly (event fics will be written as soon as i wrap up this sem, PROMISE)

itoshi rin picks out the things you don't like in your food.

not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but rin has a folder in his notes app about you— things you like, things you dislike, and every little thing you’ve mentioned to him in passing. he wants to know every little detail about you, to write it down and memorize it until the knowledge becomes stuck in the back of his head. to the point that it becomes like common sense to him (if there were ever a pop quiz on facts about you, he would pass with flying colors.) at the end of every date, or every time he hangs out with you, he’ll update his notes with another little thing he’d learned. you will never catch him admitting it out loud, but it definitely shows in how he treats you.

there is one thing he’d memorized about you, by now, though. it’s written in bold, italicized, and underlined in his notes: you hate mushrooms. 

rin catches himself looking at the ingredients of certain meals whenever the two of you would eat at a new restaurant, or order food from an unfamiliar place. it’s not that he’s necessarily a picky eater because, frankly, he really doesn’t care. but he wants you to enjoy it, he wants you to be able to eat without stressing about having to pick it out. his eyes are always scanning through the print, actively checking if mushrooms are one of the ingredients listed. 

but, there are times when the ingredients aren’t listed, and there are times when you end up ordering something with mushrooms in it. 

he may be dense in certain aspects, but it’s hard for him to miss the disappointed look on your face. the way your expression falls ever so slightly, and your smile falters for half a second. before you could dig in, before you could even put yourself through five minutes of digging through the food— he’s swiftly grabbing it from you. 

truthfully, he does it without thinking. he’s acting on his thoughts before he could even process what he’s doing. rin tries to fight the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks, the way the heat crawls up his neck and to his face at the realization of what he’d done, and he fails. but he’s committed to the act now, and he’s not going to give it back to you until he’s done what he needed to do.

he tries to ignore the somewhat perplexed look on your face, and the way you watch him closely as his fingers make quick work of moving the mushrooms from your plate to his. (he tries to sneak in some of your favorite food from his plate to yours, but he’s not slick, and you definitely notice.)

“here,” he says, pushing the plate closer to you after a few minutes. “you can eat it now.”

he sees you glance at the plate, and then back up at him— he looks away as you beam at him with a grateful smile, trying to ignore his ever-increasing heart rate. 

itoshi sae remembers the small details about your routine.

it is almost guaranteed that sae will wake up before you do. his alarm is set to go off at the crack of dawn, right as the sun starts to peek through the horizon, and he's starting his day while you're still in deep sleep. there’s a set routine that he follows, to a tee: wake up (and then contemplate staying in bed, just to cuddle with you a little longer), stretch, do morning yoga, and then go on a jog. it’s something he’d been doing for years, and he has never gone out of his way to add anything new to his routine— that is, until one morning. 

at first, it started with a random thought. as he was getting ready to leave the house, to go for his morning jog, he had unsystematically decided to set out your favorite mug and go-to morning snack. 

sae didn’t think it would be that significant to you, and he, initially, had no plans of doing it again. he simply had extra time to spare, and he knew that making your morning drink was always the first part to your routine, so he decided to get the first step out of the way for you.

truly, he wasn’t planning to make a habit out of this. but then, you told him, “that was a sweet way to start off my morning,” with that sleepy, morning smile of yours. he tries to not pay attention to the way his heart softens at the sight, and the realization that that had made him happy. yet now, he does it every time.

from then on, his alarm was always set to go off two minutes earlier. it’s rewarding, in his opinion, to come home to you— sitting at the dining table, messy hair and still in your pajamas, eyes half-lidded from sleep, with a smile on your face as you take a sip from the mug. and then you greet him with a thank you and a kiss, without fail, even when he tries to lightly guide you away because he’s sweaty.

it never works, because he folds the second you tell him, “g���morning. i missed you.” and he finds himself adding another part to his schedule. 

before sae’s even aware of it, much of his daily habits had been molded to fit with yours. 

on days where he’s far from home, in another country, he finds that his morning just never feels right without you. it feels weird not having to set out your favorite mug, and it feels even weirder not having you there to smother him in kisses. his routine had always determined his mood, and without you, he’s extra sour. 

“i miss you,” he ends up texting you. (that, too, becomes part of his routine when he’s far from you.)

michael kaiser has all your subtle behaviors memorized.

if kaiser were to be asked to name one annoying habit of yours, it would be the fact that you, sometimes, say things that contradict how you truly feel. he calls you pesky, he tells you that he’ll take your word for it and not read too deeply into whatever you’re saying— but, in a way, he’s contradicting himself too by saying that. he’ll always read into it; he’ll always analyze you, gaze narrowed, and watching for every subtle sign in your body language. he knows you, all too well. 

but there’s one thing you always say, one contradictory statement that you always make, that he’d memorized at this point. “it’s okay, i’m not cold,” even when you visibly are.

it irks him to no end. he doesn’t understand why you would say that even when there are goosebumps scattered all over your skin, when you have your arms wrapped around yourself, and you’re visibly trembling. he can practically see the bones under your skin, rattling, making some comical, cartoony noise in his head. you know that he can see you, and yet, you still lie to him.

and, at times, he does this on purpose— he puts the air conditioning in the car on full blast, all vents pointed at you, just to see how far you’re willing to go. and every time, it’s always the same, with the same answer.

kaiser isn’t completely cruel, however. he’s tucked one of his spare hoodies (your favorite, actually) into the backseat, existing purely for your use. first, he’ll scoff at you, roll his eyes, and let you suffer for a few more minutes. but eventually, the guilt will catch up to him, and he’ll constantly be glancing at you through his periphery, shaking and looking absolutely miserable in your seat.

he’ll think to himself for a second, as if contemplating whether he’ll actually help you out (he always does, he does not want you to actually suffer). and then, he’ll internally sigh, before speaking up. “stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “i have a spare hoodie in the back, take it.”

it’s almost laughable, the way you quickly turn your body around to reach for the backseat, visibly seeking warmth. he sees the look of pure joy in your eyes when you realize that it’s your favorite, and he smiles to himself.

“you’re the best,” you always tell him, as you pull the fabric over your head, and he's content. 

he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t reprimand you— he lets you do this, every single time.

oliver aiku is always willing to listen to you ramble.

it doesn’t matter if aiku’s had an exceptionally long day, it doesn’t matter if he feels as if he’s on the verge of succumbing to sleep— he will always make time for you. he will never pass up a chance to call you, to listen to you talk about whatever you want, whenever you want. you could talk for hours, going on and on about something that he doesn’t quite understand, and not a single complaint will slip past his lips. then again, he thinks to himself, why would he complain? hearing your voice is the best part of any day, good or bad. and every night, he finds himself waiting by his phone, waiting for your contact to appear on his screen.

he finds no shame at the speed in which he accepts your call, which is immediately, nor does he try to mask the anticipation in his voice.

and if he were to look into a mirror at that exact moment, he would also see the lovesick smile that had started to tug on the corners of his lips. you can’t see him, but he’s sure you can hear it in his voice. the way it softens, the way it loses its rough edges and lightens up ever so slightly, when he greets you. you probably know he’s grinning from ear-to-ear. (he doesn’t think he is, but when it comes to you, he’s completely transparent.)

it doesn’t take long before you’re divulging into another one of your endless tangents. but aiku’s attention remains undivided, only for you. he sits on the other side of the phone, silently, only responding when you want him to. it doesn’t matter if his own thoughts are clouded with exhaustion, his mind racing with the weight of the day—when you call, everything else fades into nothingness.

“did you know that venus is an evening star for 263 days out of the year?” he can hear the excitement in your voice, he can practically see the sparkle in your eyes, even without seeing you. it’s been three hours, and he’s sure that he should’ve been in bed one hour ago. but you’re still as energetic as ever, so he fights the way his body craves for sleep. he locks his jaw, and bites back a yawn, and listens. “and then, the fact that it disappears from the sky for 50 days, before returning as a morning star?”

there’s silence on your end, and aiku takes that as his cue to talk. “no,” he responds, and there’s an amused lilt in his tone. “i didn’t, actually. you should tell me more.” and you do. 

one look at the clock to his side tells him that, at this point, he won’t be getting enough sleep. he’s sure he’s going to be exhausted when he wakes up in the morning— though, he doesn’t really care, and he’s sure he won’t regret it. he’ll let you ramble about the stars for as long as you want, even when the stars themselves start to fade into the morning sky. 

© rindreamery, 2024

[ode2rin]

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!” 

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ in which: itoshi sae feels inferior to itoshi rin; even if for just a moment

includes: itoshi sae! x fem reader. 1.7k wc. fluff and humour (i promise the title is just dramatic). silly itoshi brothers but we love them. kind of ooc rin. includes some swearing but it's meant to be lighthearted <3

itoshi rin being sick was somehow more of an inconvenience to sae than it was to rin himself. his brother falling ill during his stay at sae’s place was already a disgusting coincidence. now, sae had to watch the unfortunate scenes unfold in front of him without a choice.

“woah, you’re burning up, rin,” your voice filled the room, holding the thermometer up to check it again, your voice laced with concern. rin only nodded, his quiet nature amplified by the haze of his fever. his half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks made him look pitiful, almost drowsy.

to sae, it was nauseating how pathetic he looked—and worse, how effective it was.

“here, i got you medicine,” you said, helping him sit up from a lying position. “say ahh,” you sang sweetly, holding an ibuprofen capsule to rin’s lips and following up with a glass of water. he obediently parted his lips without a word, swallowing with a slight grimace but no complaints.

meanwhile, sae stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, scowling like a cat. rin must have it so damn good right now, he thought bitterly. crashed out on his bed, coughing like a mess, and worst of all—being pampered by you! him spreading germs all over the room was annoying enough, but the fact that you were doting on him? that was the real problem. sure, rin was sick, but did you have to treat him like royalty? it made sae feel almost childish how much it irked him. he knew you were just being you—kind, caring, and attentive. you weren’t a complete jerk like sae; of course, you’d take care of your boyfriend’s little brother.

but still, the sight of you meticulously adjusting rin’s pillow, tucking him snugly into the blanket you and sae usually shared, and gently brushing his hair out of his face like he was some spoiled kid—it was enough to drive sae up the wall. and if all that wasn't bad enough, now you were feeding him. feeding him.

rin opened his mouth again without so much as a sigh, his quiet compliance somehow making the scene even worse. sae glared as you dabbed the corner of rin’s mouth with a tissue, your expression always remaining soft and tender.

sae’s patience finally cracked as he scoffed. “pick up your own damn spoon,” he muttered under his breath.

you finally tore your gaze from rin to look at sae, laughing lightly. “it’s okay, sae. he’s sick. it doesn’t bother me.” it didn’t bother you, but it sure as hell bothered him. watching rin quietly accept another spoonful while sae fumed in the corner felt like a fresh insult every second.

“is the soup good? i tried my best,” you asked, giving the bowl another stir, awaiting his answer. your expression was so stupidly expectant that it effortlessly tugged at sae’s heart. rin, naturally, noticed the way his older brother’s jaw tightened from the corner of his eye, sae’s glare sharp enough to cut through steel—nonverbally screaming at him to be nice. rin wasn’t dumb—he knew better than to even consider giving a bad review of your cooking, especially with sae simmering in his spot by the door. and besides, the soup was actually delicious. “it’s good,” rin said, glancing at you. he took another spoonful for good measure, his movements deliberately slow, before adding, “it’s like our mom’s cooking.”

your face lit up instantly, a warm smile spreading across your lips. “i’m glad! good thing i asked for her recipe,” you shared, feeling accomplished. then, after a thoughtful pause, rin continued, “nii-chan should try some.” that last line, paired with the smallest, almost imperceptible smirk tugging at rin’s lips as he subtly shifted his posture toward sae, was so perfectly calculated it could’ve been a soccer play. rin didn’t even bother looking at his brother; he didn’t need to. the strained silence from sae’s corner was reward enough.

sae’s knuckles flexed against the doorframe, his patience wearing thinner than ever. try some? was rin actually inviting him to participate in this ridiculous display? no way in hell. you turned to sae with an inviting smile, completely oblivious to the brewing tension. “sae, you can have some if you want. i made more just in case…” his eyes flickered to you for a moment, and he opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a quiet, disgruntled, “i’m fine.”

rin didn’t look up, but his breath released ever so slightly faster—barely perceptible—like he was holding back laughter. and yet, rin wasn’t done being petty. he shifted slightly under the blanket, letting out a low sigh that seemed almost contemplative. “my back hurts.”

he murmured quietly, drawing out the words just enough to give them weight. his gaze flicked briefly to sae—long enough for him to notice—before turning to you with a soft, almost too-casual tone.

“i think i need a massage.”

before sae could even process the audacity, you were already setting the soup aside. “oh no! here, turn around—” “it’s fine,” sae absolutely snaps, stepping forward and snatching you up from the bed. he firmly guided you toward the door. “i got him. just bring a hot towel, will you?” “huh? oh, okay…” you blinked, a bit startled by his sudden intervention, but nodded. “if you need anything—anything—just call, okay?”

you shot rin a sympathetic look as you left, sae’s hand still firm on the small of your back until you were out the door.

the moment the door clicked shut, it was as if rin’s back was in pristine condition—like he was born with the perfect spine. he sat up straight, stretching with ease, his back suddenly requiring nothing but a headboard to rest on. sae responded with nothing except his expression, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. without a word, sae lifted his leg and dug a kick square to rin’s back. “what the fuck?!” rin hissed, flinching forward. “back pain, huh?” sae asked flatly, mocking his claims. “you’re too old to be attention-seeking, dumbass,” he said, giving him another shove with his foot. “go back to okaasan, since you like being babied so much.” “fuckin’ hypocrite,” rin kicked back with both legs, shoving sae’s leg away with surprisingly good strength for someone whose supposed bones were crackling just a second ago. “you’re the one fuming for her attention.” sae rolled his eyes, unable to accept the fact that he was probably right. “she’s my girlfriend, you fucker,” despite the possibility, he defends, his voice sharper now. “and yet here you are,” rin said smugly, leaning back against the headboard, “competing with a sick kid.” sae opened his mouth to retort but froze. damn it. he was competing. and somehow, rin was winning.

“here’s the towel—” you finally walked in, but not without sensing the tension hanging in the air. “did something happen?…” you quickly remarked, in a suspicious manner. “no.” both rin and sae responded in perfect unison, their tone almost too quick, too practiced. you couldn’t help but feel like you were the only one who wasn’t in on whatever strange, silent competition they were having.

“rin’s feeling better,” sae suddenly spoke out, his voice way too casual, as he bolted for the door. “call if you need anything.” “ah, okay…” you blinked, eyes lingering on him watching him go before shaking your head. maybe you did imagine that awkwardness.

you quickly turned your attention back to rin and handed him the towel. “you should get some rest. i’ll attend to some chores.” rin gave a quiet nod, already looking more comfortable with the towel draped over him. you gave him a smile, relieved to see him at least looking better, before stepping out of the room. you found sae in the kitchen, carefully dishing out a bowl of soup. the act was too adorable; you couldn’t resist. you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a gentle backhug. “what do you want?” sae asked, his voice trying to sound neutral, but you could hear the softness underneath it. you rested your chin on his shoulder, feeling his warmth, and smiled. “why are you sulking?” you asked softly, your tone full of concern. “i’m not,” sae replied, though the words came out more quietly than he intended, a little hint of frustration still there. you could feel his tension, so you just squeezed him a little tighter, letting the silence settle for a beat. “i know you’re worried,” you said, voice gentle and sincere, “but it’s okay. he’ll be fine. i’m making sure of it.” sae remained quiet for a moment, but there was something different in the way his shoulders eased under your touch. he wasn’t used to this kind of reassurance, but somehow it always worked.

there was always something disarming about your presence, the way you seemed to understand him without asking for anything in return. he didn’t quite know what to do with this feeling—this overwhelming need to just be close to you. without making any effort to break the hug, sae's hands gently moved to rest on yours. he turned slightly so he could look at you, his eyes soft and filled with something tender you couldn't quite place. there was a subtle shift as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. he paused, just for a moment, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. the kiss lingered longer than usual, a silent reassurance in the simple gesture. “i’m not worried,” sae whispered firmly, trying his best to rely his feelings. “since you’re taking care of him, i’ll just take care of you.” you blinked, your chest tightening with warmth at his words. it was rare for sae to lose his guard, and in these moments, his affection always spoke far louder than anything he could say. you could feel the space between you narrowing as he moved even closer, his lips brushing near yours. “isn’t that right?” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a quiet confidence.

AH-CHOO! a loud sneeze rang through the hallway, shattering every sense of peace in the house. sae froze, his entire posture stiffening, as he shot a death glare toward the room where rin was.

god he’s gonna kill him.

a/n: this is such an old draft omg...finally got inspired to publish it bcz i currently feel like sae lmao. still figuring out my writing style so i hope nobody minds the randomness of my works T-T

[reocidal]

"rin, i'm sleepy."

it's two in the morning; you're barely awake, and so is he."so go back to sleep again." his indifferent answer comes out in an instant, shadowed teal eyes still fixed on one of the replays he's always watching on his phone.

"but i want you!" your voice is whiny, almost needy, an unusual occurrence in this household. you're like rin; neither of you are ever clingy except on those hot and humid nights when it's late and the covers have been thrown haphazardly onto somewhere on the floor, and he's peeling off his shirt because it's hot as fuck but he still wants to feel you. and you obviously share the sentiment every single time, sinking wholeheartedly into his arms, even though you know it'll make the heat worse.

the screen goes black.

"something wrong?" he asks. you're swaying slightly, balancing on the balls of your feet as you consider the question

."mmm... nah, not really."

"then?"

"is it a crime to want my boyfriend?"

"that's new." the words slip out before he can stop himself; rin braces for an impact that never comes.

you shrug. "i guess."

concerning.

"okay," he sighs, getting up. his phone is slid into the pocket of his shorts. "let's get you to bed."

you pad up the stairs before him, but refuse to get in.

"rin, the covers."

it's hot tonight; your bedcovers are still lying perfectly on the bed, and he huffs — although without any hint of malice — at the sight. rin steps forward silently, picking you up effortlessly with one arm and pulling the covers back with the other. without warning, you're being tossed onto the bed; you land gently with a shriek.

a rare, wide grin stretches across his face when he hears you giggle — yet another uncommon occurrence. "no way you liked that."

"no comment, itoshi," you grumble, and he actually laughs as he crawls into bed.

© reocidal 2025. repost from other account.

[megumismyhusband]

“how long was the bet supposed to last?”

rin freezes.

your voice is calm. too calm. the kind of calm that feels unnatural, like the quiet before a storm. but there’s no storm in your face—no anger, no hurt, nothing at all. just an empty, unreadable expression that makes his stomach churn.

“who told you?” his voice comes out rough, forced.

you shrug, like it doesn’t even matter. like he doesn’t even matter. “does it make a difference?”

it doesn’t. he knows that. he also knows that this is bad. really bad.

“was it a week? a month?” you tilt your head slightly, staring him down. “or were you just gonna keep going until you got bored?”

his jaw tightens. “it wasn’t like that.”

“really?” you let out a breathy laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “because from where i’m standing, it kinda seems like it was.”

rin clenches his fists, frustration curling in his chest. frustration at himself, at shidou, at the whole stupid situation that never should’ve happened in the first place.

“you weren’t a joke to me,” he says, voice low.

“that’s funny,” you murmur. “because i kinda feel like one.”

he wants to fix this. to reach out, to grab your wrist, to tell you the truth—how the bet stopped meaning anything the second he got to know you, how he tried to find the right moment to come clean but was too much of a coward to risk losing you.

but he waits too long.

“say something, rin,” you say quietly. “anything.”

he opens his mouth. closes it. because nothing he says right now will be enough.

so you nod, like you expected this, like you already knew how this would end.

“got it.”

and then you walk away.

rin lets you. because what else can he do?

—

the next day, your favorite drink is waiting on your desk.

you don’t touch it.

the day after, rin is standing by your locker, holding out your books.

“you don’t have to do this,” you mutter, not even looking at him.

“i know.” but he still shoves them into your arms before walking away.

the day after that, he shows up at practice late because he spent an hour in line getting that stupid pastry you like.

“you think buying me stuff is gonna fix this?” you ask, raising a brow.

“no.” he stares at the bag in your hands. “but i know you like them, so just take it.”

you sigh, but you don’t give it back.

on friday, he carries your bag before you can complain, waits for you after school even though you ignore him the whole walk home, and when you finally snap and ask what the hell he’s doing, he just says, “making it up to you.”

saturday morning, you open your door to find him standing there, hair messy, dark circles under his eyes, holding a stupidly large bag of snacks.

“seriously?” you cross your arms. “you’re still on this?”

“yeah.”

“why?”

he exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “because i’m not giving up on you.”

you blink, caught off guard by how sure he sounds. how raw he looks.

he looks tired. frustrated. desperate.

like this actually means something to him. like you actually mean something to him.

you chew on your lip, eyes flicking between him and the bag in his hands.

“…you got my favorites?”

“obviously.”

“did you get the right drink this time?”

he exhales, shoving it into your hands. “yes.”

you stare at it for a moment. then sigh, stepping aside.

“fine. come in before you start looking even more pathetic.”

rin doesn’t need to be told twice. he steps inside, and for the first time all week, his chest feels a little lighter.

he still has a long way to go—he knows that. but if you’re letting him in, even just a little, then maybe, just maybe, he still has a chance to prove that this was never just a bet to him.

[emmyrosee]

Rin Itoshi cannot stand when you surprise kiss him and run away, because his brain can’t process fast enough and he’s left a sputtering, blushy mess while you’re giggling halfway down the hall.

“You nuisance!” He manages, but his voice is squeaky and uncontrollable, very different from his usual monotone- he hates it. He hates how often he takes your bait, how much he’s at your mercy, and he hates the way his heart rate spikes at your affection.

But most importantly, Rin Itoshi hates when you kiss him and run away, because he doesn’t get a chance to kiss you back.

And that annoys him most of all.

[sweetheartsaku]

(BLLK) this life, this one

𝜗𝜚 ITOSHI RIN: CHAENOMELES.

a/n: [fem!reader] me when dad rin dad rin i. i am so weak for him this will not be the last of it. YOU WILL BE FED RIN KISSERS

the alarm clock that sat on your bedside table blinked 2:13 a.m. as you stirred from an uneasy sleep. you roll toward the empty space beside you for rin's familiar comforting weight to fall protectively across your arms, but the space was cold.

you frown, sit up and carefully listen. then you hear something. downstairs, someone giggling.

you slipped out of bed carefully and padded down the hall toward the soft glow emanating from the kitchen. with every step, the sounds grew clearer: your baby's bubbly laughter and rin's unmistakable soft chuckle.

curious, you peeked into the kitchen and the image that graced your eyes almost burst your heart.

rin was sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor, his hair adorably messy from sleep and his hoodie slightly askew. in front of him was a tub of neopolitan ice cream, flavours all mixed up. sitting in his lap was your baby fuyumi clutching a tiny spoon, babbling excitedly between bites.

"itoshi rin. itoshi fuyumi." you sternly whispered, leaning against the doorway, your arms crossed but a fond smile tugging at your lips. "care to explain what's going on here?"

rin looked up, evidently startled for a moment, lips agape, before offering a rare grin. "'yumi woke up." he said simply, nodding toward the tiny human in his lap. "and she was hungry."

"so naturally, you thought ice cream at two in the morning was the solution?" you teased, raising an eyebrow as you stepped closer.

"of course," he deadpanned, gently wiping a smudge of chocolate off your baby's cheek with the pad of his thumb. "but... look at her. worth it." he says the latter part under his breath.

your baby let out a squeal of delight, waving her spoon triumphantly in the air as if in agreement.

you shook your head, unable to hold back a laugh. "unbelievable."

rin smirked, and held out the tub of ice cream, "want some?"

regardless of how much you scold them for it, you're also not able to resist it. with a drawn-out sigh, you took a spoon out from the drawer, plumping yourself down beside them onto the floor. "only because."

the three of you sat there, sharing ice cream and stealing quiet moments of joy in the stillness of the night. your daughter fuyumi, thoroughly energized-by-the-sugar-rush decided that her small pink plastic spoon made an excellent drumstick, causing her to start tapping it against rin's knee and giggling uncontrollably at the sound.

rin played along, tapping his own spoon in rhythm. "we have a small musician..." he said, his eyes soft as they met yours.

"or a troublemaker,"

"takes after their mom."

you gasped in mock offense, and rin laughed a rare, unguarded sound that made your heart skip a beat.

as the minutes ticked by, the ice cream tub slowly emptied, and your daughter began to yawn, their tiny fists rubbing at their sleepy eyes. rin scooped them up effortlessly, cradling them against his chest as he stood.

“i’ll put 'yumi back to bed,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

you followed him upstairs, watching as he carefully tucked your daughter into her crib. his movements so gentle, like he was handling the most precious pearl in the world.

he walks out with a faint smile. the smile you fell for when you were 16. "thanks for not killing me over the ice cream," he whispered.

you smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. "you're just lucky you guys are cute."

he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. resting your head against his shoulder as you both stood there, watching your baby rest.

and in that quiet moment, with the warmth of rin's arms around you and the peaceful rise and fall of your baby's breaths, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

it has to be this life.

with this one.

[ka1rin]

Tension

Sae Itoshi x Reader , wc: 3.1k , genre: smut

MDNI! contains & themes: hate sex, enemies to lovers, p in v, teasing

It was a well known fact at your school that you and Sae Itoshi absolutely hated each other. No one could pinpoint exactly when it started, but the mutual disdain had been there for years.

Maybe it was the way Sae thought the world revolved around football, completely ignoring everything else. School events? Group projects? Cleaning duties? Sae was always absent, choosing to spend his time practicing or playing matches. It infuriated you how he'd get away with it, just because he was the star player.

Meanwhile, you were the complete opposite. You threw yourself into every school event and project, often leading committees and organizing programs. So every time Sae's name would pop up on a list and he wouldn't show, you'd end up picking up the slack. And oh, you let him know about it.

"You could at least pretend to care about something other than football," you snapped at him once after an event where you ended up staying late because he didn't show up to help.

He didn't even glance up from his phone. "Not my problem."

That nonchalant attitude of his made your blood boil. Meanwhile, Sae hated you for entirely different reasons. In his eyes, you were nothing more than an annoying perfectionist who constantly nagged him. Every time you got in his face about responsibilities or schoolwork, it only reinforced his belief that you were too uptight, too controlling.

"You should stop trying so hard," he told you once, his tone flat and bored. "It's pathetic."

The animosity between the two of you was so obvious that even the teachers knew better than to pair you up for anything. But fate, or your English teacher had other plans.

The sun blazed through the classroom windows as your teacher's voice echoed in the room. You were already annoyed, scribbling notes while Sae sat at the back of the class, leaning back in his chair, looking half-asleep.

"Sae Itoshi, see me after class," the teacher said sharply, snapping her fingers to get his attention.

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder. For once, it looked like karma was catching up with him.

When the bell rang, you were packing up your things when your teacher called your name. "(Y/N), stay for a moment, too."

You froze, narrowing your eyes. Whatever this was, you already didn't like it.

Sae stood in front of the teacher's desk, his arms crossed, his usual stoic expression firmly in place. You joined them reluctantly, your annoyance bubbling at the thought of having to deal with him for even another second.

"Alright, Sae," the teacher began, folding her arms. "Your grades in English are unacceptable. If you fail another test, you'll be ineligible for the football tournament."

You suppressed a laugh, but the smirk on your face was hard to hide. Sae's expression, though subtle, faltered for just a second.

"And you, (Y/N)," the teacher continued, turning to you. "Since English is your strongest subject, I'm assigning you as Sae's tutor."

"What?" you and Sae said in unison.

"This is ridiculous," Sae muttered, his voice cold.

"And I don't have time to babysit him," you added, crossing your arms.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by either of your protests. "You'll make time. This is non-negotiable. I expect you two to work together every afternoon until Sae's grades improve. That's final."

The classroom fell silent as your teacher walked out, leaving you and Sae behind with an awkward air of tension. You sat on one end of the desk, arms crossed, glaring at him. He, of course, looked completely unbothered, as if this was all a waste of his precious time.

"Okay," you began sharply, "we'll meet at the library tomorrow after class. Be there by 4 PM, and don't be late."

Sae raised an eyebrow, his tone as flat as ever. "The library? No thanks."

You scowled. "What do you mean, 'no thanks'? That's where people study."

He shrugged. "Too many people. It's noisy, and I don't want anyone seeing me being babysat."

Your irritation flared instantly. "Babysat? This is tutoring, not babysitting. And maybe if you actually cared about school, we wouldn't even have to do this!"

Sae ignored your outburst, pulling his phone out of his pocket lazily. "Let's just do it at my place. It'll be quiet, and I can focus better."

Your eyes narrowed. "Your place? Are you kidding me?"

He met your glare with a bored look, like you were the one being unreasonable. "What's the problem? You scared or something?"

That last comment struck a nerve. "Scared? Of you? Not in a million years."

"Good," he said with a faint smirk. "My place. 6 PM. Don't be late."

Before you could argue further, he turned and walked off, leaving you fuming in your seat.

By 6 PM, you stood outside Sae's house, clutching your bag and muttering complaints under your breath. This was not how you envisioned spending your evening. When the door finally opened, there he was, leaning casually against the frame in his hoodie and sweatpants.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"You said 6 PM. It's 6 PM," you snapped, brushing past him as you stepped inside.

His house was annoyingly perfect, modern, clean, and minimalistic. It looked like a magazine photo shoot, which only irritated you more.

"Nice place," you muttered sarcastically, dropping your bag on the coffee table.

Sae ignored your tone, sitting on the couch and grabbing a pen. "Let's just start."

You sat across from him, pulling out your notes. "Alright, let's review your grammar mistakes from the test. Here's what you got wrong—"

"Do we really have to go over every single one?" he interrupted, leaning back.

"Yes, because you clearly don't understand the basics," you shot back, already losing patience. "You can't just skim through this stuff and expect to pass."

"And you can't just lecture me like I'm some clueless idiot," he replied, his voice calm but sharp.

"Well, if the shoe fits," you said, unable to stop yourself.

He sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. "You know, you're really annoying."

"Funny, because you're really disappointing," you snapped. "Do you even care about anything other than football? Do you even realize how much everyone else has to pick up the slack because you can't be bothered to show up or help?"

Sae's jaw clenched, and for the first time, you saw something like anger flash in his usually calm eyes. "I didn't ask for anyone to pick up my slack. I didn't ask for your help, either. If you hate this so much, then why are you even here?"

"Because I was forced to help you!" you yelled, standing up and glaring down at him.

He stood up too, towering over you slightly. "You think I wanted this? You think I need you to save me? If I wanted to, I could pass this class on my own."

"Oh, please," you scoffed. "If you could pass on your own, we wouldn't even be here right now. Just admit it—you're all talk, no action."

Sae's expression hardened, his voice dropping to a quiet, almost dangerous tone. "And you're so obsessed with being in control that you can't handle it when things don't go your way."

His words hit like a slap, and you opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, he continued, his voice softening in a way that threw you off completely.

"You're exhausting," he muttered, his gaze flicking to yours briefly before dropping. "But... I guess I don't hate it when you're around."

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. "What did you just say?"

Sae's eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, he looked genuinely flustered. "Nothing. Forget it," he said quickly, turning away and sitting back down. "Let's just finish this."

Your mind raced, and you sat down slowly, unsure of what to make of what just happened. The tension in the room was suffocating, but neither of you dared to say anything about it.

The session had spiraled into chaos—or at least, that's what it felt like. Sae had been working through his workbook, and you had been mindlessly scrolling on your phone. That's when you stumbled upon the clip of his last game, where he'd scored the winning goal. Of course, the caption sang his praises: "Sae Itoshi: MVP, the genius striker!"

You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you double-tapped the post.

"What's so funny now?" Sae's voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

You looked up at him, irritated by his tone. "Nothing. Just people hyping you up again like you're some kind of god or something."

His expression darkened. "Let me see."

"Why do you even care?" you shot back, standing up and walking over to him. "Here. It's just this post. Chill out." You leaned over, holding the phone toward him.

But he didn't look at the screen. Instead, his sharp eyes locked onto yours. "You're always like this," he said, his voice low but laced with irritation. "Always in my face, always acting like you know everything."

"Maybe if you weren't so hopeless, I wouldn't have to!" you snapped, standing up straighter.

"And maybe if you weren't so annoying, I wouldn't ignore you half the time," he fired back, standing up as well, towering over you now.

The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken words. You didn't back down, stepping closer. "You think ignoring everything makes you better than everyone else, don't you?"

"Maybe it does," he said, his tone sharp. "Better than someone who can't stop running her mouth."

You glared at him, your heart racing as your faces were now just inches apart. "God, you're so—"

Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward, his other hand gripping your jaw as his lips crashed into yours. It was messy, desperate, and caught you completely off guard.

For a moment, your mind blanked. All the anger, the frustration, the years of clashing with him—they all melted away as his lips moved against yours, firm and unyielding. His hand slid from your wrist to your waist, pulling you closer.

You froze for a second, shocked, but then something inside you snapped. Without thinking, you kissed him back, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as you pushed against him with just as much intensity.

The chair behind him scraped the floor as he backed up, pulling you with him. His hands tightened on your waist, guiding you closer, until your body was flush against his. The kiss deepened, his lips parting slightly as his tongue brushed against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping tightly as if you needed something to ground yourself. The kiss was heated, every ounce of pent-up frustration pouring into it. You didn't care about the argument anymore, didn't care about why you hated him or why this was happening, you just didn't want it to stop.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing uneven. His eyes were half lidded, the usual coldness in them replaced by something much more intense.

"You're infuriating," he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.

"Right back at you," you shot back, your voice just as unsteady. But instead of pulling away, you leaned in again, pressing your lips to his once more.

This time, it was slower but just as fiery, his hands exploring your sides as yours tangled in his hair. The heat between you was overwhelming, and you couldn't bring yourself to care about how far things had escalated.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen from the intensity. The room was silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing.

"...So," you said after a long pause, trying to catch your breath, "was that supposed to shut me up?"

His lips curved into a small smirk. "It worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the small smile tugging at your lips.

The air was thick with tension, the heat between you and Sae undeniable after the kiss you'd shared. But it wasn't over. Neither of you could quite look away, as if the intensity between you was drawing you in further.

You took a step back, still a little rattled, but your body didn't quite follow the command of your mind. The silence hung in the air until Sae broke it, his voice a low growl.

"Fuck this studying," he muttered suddenly, pushing the workbook aside.

"What?!" you sputtered, staring at him, incredulous. "We were supposed to—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he yanked you toward him. "Shut up," he commanded, his grip firm as he pulled you down onto his lap. You gasped in surprise, your heart pounding as his hand pressed firmly against your back to keep you in place.

Your breath caught in your throat as you found yourself perched on his lap, your face dangerously close to his. The heat between your bodies was undeniable, your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Sae! What the hell?" you snapped, trying to push him away, but his hands quickly cupped your face, holding you still.

"I'm done pretending," he muttered, before his lips descended on your neck, kissing you with unexpected urgency. Your body froze as you felt the warmth of his mouth against your skin.

"Stop, Sae!" you gasped, but his lips didn't stop moving, trailing down your neck, and you felt yourself give in to the sensation, your heartbeat accelerating. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and all at once, you felt like you were drowning in the tension.

Then, before you even realized what he was doing, he pressed a quick peck to your lips—teasing, fleeting, as if to remind you of how easily he could break your resolve.

"Now we're talking," Sae whispered, his voice low and gravelly as he looked at you, his eyes darkened with something more intense than annoyance.

You were still trying to catch your breath, heart racing, as his smirk only grew. "What the hell is wrong with you?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, his fingers gently caressing your jaw. "I could ask you the same thing." His smirk softened, and before you could react, his lips were on yours again, this time without hesitation.

You kissed him back, the intensity of it surprising you both. His hand slipped down your back, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel every muscle in his body tighten. The kiss grew deeper, his lips exploring yours as if trying to stake a claim.

You felt something hard and firm shift beneath you as you sat on Sae's lap. Your face flushed crimson, knowing exactly what it was, his considerable length stirring against you through his pants. Sae's smirk deepened, his hands firmly planted on your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

As Sae pulled you closer, your hips instinctively began to move, rubbing your wet panties against his now throbbing length. You moaned softly into his mouth as he captured your lips again, his smirk turning into a deep, hungry kiss.

Sae's right hand left your waist to reach between your thighs, his fingers deftly flipping up your short skirt to expose your soaked panties. He rubbed your sensitive clit in slow, deliberate circles as you continued to grind your core against his hardness, your moans and whimpers music to his ears.

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you onto the nearby table. His hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it with a clink. He slowly pulled down his pants, revealing boxers that strained against his impressive size.

With one smooth motion, he removed his boxers, revealing his massive, throbbing member glistening with precum. He stepped closer, lining himself up with your still-covered pussy. Teasingly, he rubbed the head of his cock along your wet panties, causing you to whimper. "S-Sae...please.."

What do you want me to do?' Sae asked teasingly, his voice low and husky as he continued rubbing his hard cock against your soaked panties. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear, 'Say it, y/n. Tell me exactly what you need.

"I need you inside me, Sae..." you whimpered desperately, your body aching with desire. Sae flashed you a devilish grin, 'Good girl,' he praised, his voice dripping with desire. In one swift motion, he tore your panties off, exposing your soaked pussy

He then rubbed his cock on your clit, moving down slowly till he reaches your hole. "Fuck"Sae groaned as he slowly pushed forward, the head of his thick cock easing past your tight entrance. Your pussy clenched around him, hot and slick. He paused, letting you adjust to his size before slowly sinking deeper with each inch, stretching you deliciously.

He began with a slow, steady pace, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein as he stretched you open. 'Fuck, you're so tight,' he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

As Sae quickened his pace, his thick member pounding into you, he reached down to tease your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circled his fingers around your swollen bud, rubbing in slow circles as he thrust into you deeper and faster. "Sae... Sae..." you whined, chanting his name like a prayer.

"...Sae! Sae! Oh god, Sae!' you whined, your voice rising to a desperate chant as he fucked you senseless. Your hands scrabbled at the table, your back arching as he hit that sweet spot inside you over and over.

Your pussy began fluttering around Sae's cock again, signaling another impending orgasm. 'Close already?' Sae murmured teasingly in your ear. Without waiting for a reply, he whispered urgently, 'Cum for me, baby. Soak my cock with your juices.'

As soon as those words left his lips, your body betrayed you, convulsing with another powerful orgasm. 'Fuck!' you cried out, your nails digging into his arms. With one final deep thrust, Sae let out a guttural moan, 'I'm fucking cumming..."

Both of you collapsed against each other, chests heaving as you shared labored breaths. A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Sae's face as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

Sae slowly pulled out, watching your release trickle down your thighs. He looked around at the scene - books you meticulously prepared for his lessons thrown everywhere, pages wrinkled and wet with your arousal.

Sae teased, picking up a book and flipping through the soggy pages. 'So, are we still studying?' You rolled your eyes and muttered a curse under your breath. 'Fuck you,' you said, but Sae just chuckled and said, 'Stay here, it's late.

[nessbunnie]

pro soccer player!rin x #1 rin fan!reader is such a fun concept !!

like on tiktok ur known as the itoshi rin girl. people tag u in rin edits & make edits dedicated to u ! 30 minutes after a pxg game ends ur seen on tiktok analyzing the entire match, people even ask u to analyze other teams or players ! u’ve posted countless tiktoks of you at actual pxg matches, cheering the loudest for rin.

but what no one knows is that rin’s biggest fan is also his girlfriend of 4 years !! rin can’t help but crack a smile when he sees ur newest tiktok fawning over him or ur reactions to edits of him ! people comment “petition to get this girl a meet and greet with rin 😭���” not knowing that he sleeps in your arms every night <3

it gets even cuter when u film a tiktok finally “meeting” rin for the first time after a game ! tho he’s sure ur reaction is a little bit exaggerated for the views, he still thinks its so adorable <3 you shake his hand excitedly, asking for a picture with him, recording the entire interaction. 

he remains his usual calm self and agrees, putting on a small smile as the shutter goes off. u wave goodbye to him, yelling out a, “i love you!!” as u walk away. rin’s face gets hotter, though he doesn’t know if its because of u or the stuffy almost-autumn air. 

the clip of rin blushing profusely after ur profession of love goes viral almost immediately ! u find urself smiling at ur phone as edit after edit with the same intro plays, rin’s red face probably burnt into the pixels of ur phone. 

but after a couple days, the switch-up comes. some people start commenting on your tiktoks and edits with you in them that your “parasocial relationship” with rin is getting a little strange, and that maybe you should tone the obsession down. for every person defending u, the hate train only grows.

you complain about this to rin during breakfast, stating “how’s it a parasocial relationship if i’ve been dating you for years?” with sighs. rin says the obvious.

“just tell them that.”

you look at him with a mischevious glint in your eye. “should i actually?”

“go for it. i can take care of the PR stuff.” rin takes a bite out of his breakfast before continuing.  “been wanting to call you mine for a while, too.”

you giggle. “aye aye, as you say captain!”

rin is called into your shared bedroom minutes later, a ringlight set up with your phone in the middle. “c’mere rinnie, wanna make a tiktok with you!” rin sits down beside you. you scroll through a couple of examples of the trend, showing them to rin. it’s mostly of couples; one person applying lipstick or lipgloss before smudging it and the other person with kisses on their face wiping it off. 

it looks simple enough, so rin agrees. 

you press kisses onto rin’s face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “you always like when i kiss you, rinnie,” you remark.

rin hums in response, melting into your touch. you kiss him one last time on his cheek before finishing. “i’m gonna record now, ‘kay?”

k. by cigarettes after sex plays as you film yourself applying lipgloss before smudging it. rin reaches towards you and wipes it off as you pan the camera towards his lovesick gaze. you lean into him and kiss him a last time before you stop the recording. 

you hand your phone to rin, showing him the end results. he approves of them, and you caption it with “🩷🩷🩷” before posting. 

safe to say the 1.5 million likes proved your parasocial relationship wrong.

this was supposed to be a little blurb why is it 621 words long oml. and ik the k. trend is old as hell but it’s so cute i luv it ! the pacing is so terrible i’m crying um probably ooc i’m sorry guys i love soft rin !!!! reblog comment and follow for more bangers guys ily all <3

[suksatoru]

rin itoshi has a very special skill, one where he can predict when you're about to spew absolute nonsense. he says he has a sixth sense reserved just for your antics, and he also swears you're going to be the reason he has a full head of gray hair before he turns twenty.

"rinnie," you try again—pouting when rin exhales sharply from his nose, refusing to meet your gaze. rin sits on the ground at the end of his bed, and you sit perched on top of his blankets—hanging your head upside down to stare at him like the cheshire cat.

"no." he replies, short and curt as you drape yourself over his shoulder with a sigh. he shifts the slightest bit so you can comfortably curl your head against his form. you nose at his throat before speaking up again, quieter this time.

"pretty please? it's really all i want, rinnie. it would make my day—no, my life! please?"

rin thought you were the idiot in this relationship, but he knows he's the real lovesick fool. it wasn't impossible to say no, he says it to other people all the time. but your eyes are hopeful and round. and truthfully, the sight of your frown was truly his undoing.

rin lets out a dramatic sigh, loud and annoyed—and you know he accepts his defeat when he hands you his hair brush with a grumble. you roll off of the bed, sitting criss cross on the ground across him in an instant as you grab the nearby rubber bands laying on the floor with a dopey grin

"you just relax while i work rinnie! i promise, you won't even know i'm here!"

rin's deadpan expression only makes you laugh quietly, and you lean forward to place a gentle peck onto his lips. you hover over his mouth after pulling away an inch, taking a moment to admire his face before grinning

"grumpy," you muse as you gently brush your nose against his. rin mumbles something about you knowing nothing about personal space as he tugs you onto his lap

"if i'm bald by the end of this—"

"oooh rinnie your hair's so soft! i'm stealing your shampoo later," you interrupt with a giggle, pressing soft kisses onto the crown of his head as his shoulders slump. his broody expression is far too adorable to not kiss, and after peppering enough kisses onto his cheeks to leave them tinted pink—you get to work.

rin doesn't know why you want to style his hair. he regards your sparkly pink hair clips with an eye roll. but your fingers are gentle and soothing as they work to brush and style his hair, and he can feel the exhaustion slowly dispersing from his muscles as he leans into your touch.

"it feels...nice. thank you," he murmurs softly, gently rubbing your thigh as you hum in response. he moves to take a glance at you, and his heart skips a beat when he sees your tongue poked out in concentration as you work on tying his hair. cute.

it takes another fifteen minutes for you to finish your assault on his head. rin's practically putty beneath your fingers now, and there's a barely visible furrow between his brows when you pull your touch away from him.

"you look like a prince... you should totally let me style your hair more often, rinnie!" you gush, smiling softly as you admire your work on him.

"i'll be the judge of that," he mutters with a small smile, reaching onto his bed to grab your phone. he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling when he sees your wallpaper being his back and jersey number, but the smile is wiped off his face in an instant as he lets out a startled yelp—staring at his reflection in the camera app.

"yeah. not happening, you cheeky brat." he scoffs, pointing at his head with a scowl

"y/n, tell me where you got five hundred charms of hello kitty clips... what damned store did you rob? and why are there pink extensions in my hair? are they—is that fucking glitter in them?"

rin eventually fell victim to a photoshoot, though he shouldn't be surprised. did he really think he'd escape you that easily? he's not very amused by your new wallpaper of him afterwards, but he can't even try and stop the amusement glimmering in his emerald eyes.

"not a soul will see those pictures. or i swear, i'll stick you in a gold fish tank y/n." rin mutters later that night as you two lay in bed, pressing feather soft kisses onto your shoulder blades as he silently admires the way your lips jut out in an adorable pout. his threat isn't very scary when he holds you like you're the most precious thing in his life, but you nod anyway.

"okay," you sigh in defeat. rin's eyes narrow suspiciously as he wraps his arms around your waist, settling in for the night as he turns off his bedside lamp.

"night, y/n." he whispers gently, his lashes brushing against your cheek as he kisses you softly. your hand gently brushes his bangs away from his eyes, and his face softens at your giggles

"night, rinnie. tomorrow you can style my hair! and then, we can be twins..." you affirm quietly. it's dark in the room, the night outside blanketing you two. there's a sliver of moonlight pouring through the window, and it's the only reason you're able to see the gentle smile on rin's face before you fall asleep.

blue lock masterlist :P

[rinnstars]

jealousy jealousy!

when hes just a little (very) jealous of someone else

bllk boys (nagi, rin, reo) x reader: insecurities, fluff!!!!!!!, established r/s except for rin (but you two get into one by the end!), nagis part was deleted and rewritten TT, not proof read + likes n reblog r appreciated <3

nagi seishiro:

“eh… you cleared this level already…? i thought you were struggling with it..?” nagi’s voice muffled against the pile of blankets his face was smushed in, looking up at you confusedly from your phone, displaying the game level cleared.

its not that he doesnt believe you cleared it all by yourself, if anything youre pretty good at this game despite only playing it for him. its simply because you were complaining on call with him about it, and all of the sudden youve finished it? he doesnt quite believe it, hes gone through that level too and he knows its pretty challenging, taking a little more energy than it really should have even for nagi himself.

“ah.. my seatmate cleared it for me this morning when he saw me playing it!” its strange: your bright voice always wakes him up a little, bringing light into his otherwise dull and boring life. yet this time, he feels his heart pang a little.

its troublesome. he doesnt like feeling this way: his heart tightens at your words, he unconsciously grips your phone a little, only realising when the screen protector cuts him a little, and he feels as though hes getting all fired up strangely the same way he gets on the field. if anything, nagi doesnt even know who this mysterious seat partner is, and he sure doesnt want to know: its troublesome to socialise with others after all. and yet, if there’s anything he’s now set on doing as though his life depends on it, as though your relationship with him depends on it, as though his ego depends completely on this: he wants to confront this guy and challenge him in an actual game competition. he knows he’ll win, he has spent his entire life in bed playing mobile game or spending late hours of the night on grinding back to immortal on different variety of games from valorant to league of legends to overwatch. he’s covered his grounds he thinks, that maybe all those time wasn’t wasted at all other than the fact that you weren’t with him during those time: lending him your lap to lie down on when he plays his switch or phone, lending him your support when you sit on his lap on his chair squirming to keep it a challenge to win and carry his team still, even more lending him your accounts when he plays with you, helping carry you in any game you want or even just building your islands together on animal crossing or minecraft on more chill days.

nagi doesn’t get it - really, its the same ego that drives him in football, not wanting to lose. his eyes flicker with sudden fire and intensity that only burns whenever he plays games with you: whether that be when you die in a pvp game and him immediately straightening his back to avenge you, earning aces for rounds straight until the screen flashes with victory, or when someone talks bad about you in the voice channel and is immediately reacted with nagi’s voice that defends your honour as if he’s your knight in shining armour, or even simply the way his hands click on the mouse quickly whenever he sees a zombie go near you in the dark cave whilst playing something as chill as minecraft. if anything, nagi think it might just apply to real life too: his hands tugging at yours as though on instinct in record speed when you trip on another branch to prevent you from falling, his glare at others whenever they bother you too much that is visible through the awkward smile you give and your hands finding its way to fiddle with his shirt.

and the same ego is clear to him now: he doesn’t want anyone else to be yours, he wants to be the only one to help you. selfish maybe, but he’ll deliver - the way he tracks your figure in the map from valorant to minecraft to even genshin, the way he fights to protect you from the enemies, his hands animatedly clicking at his mouse and the other navigating his keyboard all at the same time in order to garner the best and most successful result that he knows will get you to smile oh so brightly that makes his heart pound, or even the way he charges his old switch just to help you play animal crossing on his own account, maintaining your village and neglecting his all to make a cute little house for you inspired by your pinterest board even though it takes him all night.

and to you, its clear: he’s upset at what you’ve done with the way he deflates even more than he already is. and it clicks. a routine and cycle you’ve unintentionally broken - you complaining about a level or rank you can’t get out of, he’ll listen and ask you about it the next day when youre back at his house, and he’ll fix it just as he always down: an unspoken agreement really.

“sorry sei… i still can’t clear the next level.. help me seiiii…” and suddenly he’s back lying right on your pillowy thighs: the way his eyes that was just seconds ago filled with intensity that you think simply doesn’t fit his face closes with comfort as you massage his scalp again with his fingers, the way his face smushes against your thighs comfortably rather than the weird feeling of him hovering on your thigh as though he wanted to get up, the way his hands no longer grip your phone tightly and instead holds your hand, fitting it right in perfectly.

“kay… its not bothersome with you..” he says, a confession of love from himself. he’ll never find it annoying if its you: he thinks he would play the dinosaur game from having no internet for hours on end if you liked watching him play it, he thinks he’d fight against the same boss for even days straight if you said you needed the materials for it for your character, and he knows he will most definitely help you finish any level you can’t. and something he wont say, a quiet confession springs in his mind: he loves you and most definitely he loves to play for you. and based on you willingly passing him your phone, maybe, just maybe, he wont give in to his impulses and actually find that guy - only shooting daggers at him that sends a shiver down his spine when he waits outside your class for you to release after school.

rin itoshi:

its not the first time rin felt this pang in his chest: he felt it when his older brother kicks the ball to any other member of the football team to shoot for the goal, he felt it when his teammates seems to be able to shoot he ball even more accurately than he does, he felt it when his brother praised yoichi instead of him. he’s always regarded that feeling as something football related: he’s never felt too much emotions outside of his passion and hobbies either way - but lately, he thinks he feels it a lot whenever he’s with you. perhaps, the seed from before blue lock has started blooming: the day you boarded the bus with him to the facility that was hours away from yours and his house that made his cheeks stain with pink as he sits right beside you, eating the filling breakfast you made for him, beaming at him so brightly as you wave him goodbye that makes him hesitate for the first time in his life.

and right now, he doesn’t get it. its not like there’s a lack of chocolates at his desk, if anything its quite the opposite. there’s practically a mountain of chocolates of different variety that would surely fulfill his secret sweet tooth - from dark chocolate in a heart shape mold bought from a fancy shop, from milk chocolates in squares sprinkled with heart shaped sweet bits on top, or even strawberries dipped in white chocolate. and yet, if looks could kill, that guy who’s holding YOUR chocolate box would have died, guts spilled right on the classroom door like those cliche horror games he plays. rin doesn’t get it: its not as if youre close witht that guy,youre his seat partner for all the years you’ve spent together since kindergarten, and he’s sure that that guys no one special right? and its out of character when rin thinks harder about a nobody in his class: do you like band kids like that lame guy? (he did learn the guitar for fun when he was younger, should bring it out from under his bed again?) do you like guys who are a little better at math? (maybe he should study for this weeks math quiz he thinks) or do you like guys who have leadership roles? (he’ll ask to be captain of the football team, its obvious anyways, he’s the best in this dull football club in his school)

usually, when he feels this same pang in his chest, he ignores it, keep mum about it and just work harder instead until the glass shards leave his heart - and yet he can’t do that strangely despite the routine between you two staying: where you and him sit together at the back of the class, playing your phone at the back oops the class unbeknownst to the teacher, giggling and whispering about whatever, your feet kicking his occasionally from the lack of distance that makes his face a little pink. yet, here he is eyeing that last chocolate underneath your table, its unlike the others he noted - unlike the mini chocolate cup you passed to that guy who he wishes to punch simply because of the smug smirk that was plastered on his face, unlike the small chocolate bars you presented to the other girls in the class, and even more special definitely from the chocolate candies you sneak into both his and yours mouth during class. its heart-shaped, reminiscent of the other chocolate now angrily thrown into one plastic bag that he plans to eat whilst crying about this the second he reaches home, a ribbon tied messily clearly with much effort too, and even pasted mini heart papers.

and its not until recess when youre alone with rin in class as per routine, everyone leaving for lunch does he do something about it for the first time in his life about this nagging and tugging feeling that makes him feel like a little kid again. and it just might have been the universe way of telling the two of you how connected you two are: as you struggle to find the courage to give him the slightly burnt chocolate brownies inside the heart shaped box.

“i.. like you.” “f-for you rin..!”

its simultaneous, at the exact same time, where the clock struck 1:00pm.

the confession he’s kept all these years, since the first day he’s met you at kindergarten where you two practically were fixed at the hips ever since: seat partners since primary school all the way up until now where youre both now seventeen and about to go to university and him to become a professional football player soon. ten years - ten years of looking at you as if he’s so far away when youre with anyone but him as he feels the friendship bracelet around his wrist for reassurance, ten years of writing confession letters after confession letters and poetries only to rip them all apart, yelling into his pillow and kicking his feet like a maiden in love, ten years of looking at you pass chocolates every single time during valentines except to him. its unlike rin, he’s never been good at expressing himself, believing in action over words - the way he carries your files and extra bags after school, the way he always listens and remembers what you say and even buy things you’ve mentioned offhandedly with his own pocket money, the way he never hesitates to carry you back home even when his leg is all jelly from football practice that he doesn’t tell you.

and its the same for you. the valentine gift you’ve made for him all these years: spanning from chocolate chip cookies you’ve made, to macrons you bought for him from his favourite bakery, or even his favourite blueberry pie your mother bought you - and yet all left underneath the table, secretly placed back in your bag for you to eat it whilst crying about your cowardice. and you hate it: these ten years of watching him carry a plastic bag full of physical confessions without any interest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even when youre staying over and opening a pack of these chocolates when you’re hungry, these ten years of looking bitterly at the friendship bracelet that is nothing more than a bitter reminder of how you’ll never be more because of your own cowardice, these ten years of looking at rin accept everyone’s chocolates but yours.

and for the first time in years, rin thinks it’s just right - when he places his lips on yours, melting into this sweet kiss with the brownie in his mouth. and he thinks you might just taste sweeter than the brownie melting between the two of yours mouth.

reo mikage:

he doesn’t get this tight feeling wrapping like thorns around his heart - seeing you so close with a classmate, smiling as he seems to be teaching you something through the windows of your classroom. it’s clearly not the exhaustion from climbing all the way from his class at the first level to yours at the fourth with this being the millionth time hes done this like a instinct every time the bell rings, its not the way your hands seems to linger so close to his practically touching someone’s else hands that gets reo sweating cold beads of sweat down his neck, and its not jealousy at how someone else might just be better than him. realistically he knows, you’re probably just having difficulties in your academics, a normal human thing but he can’t help the bitter bile that rises to his mouth - he can teach you too evident from the library dates where he helps you go through your homework and teach you the same concepts like hes made for it and hes definitely better than that classmate right? hes smarter, he tops the class every single exam without fail with his name always plastered on the results sheet as number one, he’s much more charming he would like to believe with your smile always reaching your eyes that he adores, and he’s much more useful with the way he can teach you whilst helping you with other things like while buying you food on his phone, fixing your broken pens, or something. he swallows the bitter bile, walking into the practically empty class with just you and that.. classmate, scruntising his every detail in his mind all whilst putting on the charming facade hes too used to having on - one that you can tell by the furrowing of your eyebrows at him as he grabs a chair and slides it beside you as though looking at your homework.

“haven’t i taught you this before?” its petty, he knows, its quite literally a new chapter, one that he knows your class just started on. but he thinks it does the job when he sees your classmate suddenly feel uncomfortable - perhaps its the tone of his voice that underlies irritation clearly meant for him, perhaps its the subtle passive aggressive smile aimed at him, or perhaps its the intimidation of having reo mikage right next to you clearly upset with you. he doesn’t really enjoy the title placed on him, if anything sometimes he loathes the reputation that comes with his family name, with people looking at him as only that and never as reo - but just this time does he thank the stars for his luck.

“huh?” he can tell, youre confused, and he thinks youre just so oblivious or maybe hes just weirdly jealous of something so insignificant that even your brain can’t comprehend him at all. but he doesn’t mind it as he glanced sideways at your classmate - awkwardly and quickly packing his bag, leaving just you and reo sitting at your desk.

and its awkward silence, with him looking at your homework that he just received just an hour ago and hasn’t started on too, and you looking confused at him. its not unfamiliar to see reo in your class, its practically routine at this point, except he usually just stands outside until youre done with packing your bag, taking it right from your hands the second you step out of your class.

“so.. who was that?” he cant help the way his voice suddenly sounds so soft, as though its about to crack, as if hes about to cry. he tries to clear his throat to even it out, and even so, he definitely sounded a little too out of character - out of character for how he presents himself: nothing short of perfect. and he knows youve caught it, the cats out of the bag, when he sees the sides of your mouth tug up a little as you zip your bag.

“just a classmate reo really…” your voice a little teasing, looking at him knowingly, as his hands tug at your bag, slinging it around his right shoulder where it should belong. and he thinks its alright: the way you ruffle his hair that feels just so right that he leans in even closer and even bends down a little like a dog desperate for a pat, the way you beam at him that he knows is meant only for him that shifts the rest of your class to be nothing more than just a blur, the way your bag fits snugly on his shoulder as it was meant to be.

“yeah? it better be!~” he chirps, jealousy no longer gripping onto him like a chain tugging at his neck, reminiscent of the feeling he feels in his stuffy and restrictive home. and he knows it’ll be that way until the end of time: the way your hands tugs at his tightly as though you never want to let go either, the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world, the way you understand him even through a few words. soulmates, maybe, and perhaps he has no reasons to ever feel this bitter feeling that burns his throat.

[rindreamery]

two hands on me.

you had agreed to keep your relationship with itoshi rin a secret. but after an important win, he decides he doesn't want to keep you a secret any longer. f1!itoshi rin x reader ─ fluff, angst if you squint, w.c. 1.6k+ ─ content: kissing/making out

note. watched that one f1 wag edit of nicole scherzinger and the helmet kiss, and i had to write about this IMMEDIATELY. just with a twist cuz i didn't know how to make a helmet kiss romantic LMAO

it’s late, but the roar of the crowd is lively and deafening around you. it's echoing in your ears.

you stand there in the midst of it, hands clasped together, behind the divider that separates you from the track. but you’re ignoring the noise as you focus on itoshi rin, the man of the hour. there’s tears of overwhelming joy and pride brimming in your eyes, and your heart is racing with excitement from the buzz of watching such a victory.

he’s just finished the race; he’s barely stepping out of his race car before he’s being bombarded by the people around him. you’re not surprised by this. this victory, it’s big. so big. one of the most important in his career, and the entire world is watching him, cheering for him. there’s people who have traveled from all over the world, just to be able to watch him. their phones are pointed at him, immortalizing this moment, and other people are fighting for a sliver of his time.

he deserves every second of this.

you’d been a witness to his hard work; you were there every step of the way. from the long training periods, to the excruciating workout regiment he had to endure to make sure his body was ready for this circuit, and the long hours spent doubting if he could really do it all. you (and him) know better than anyone else that he was meant to win.

you want him to shine. 

but the selfish part of you wants him to know that you’re also watching him, that you’re cheering for him too. that part of you that wants to run onto the track and join him, to hold his face in your hands and tell him how absolutely proud you are. to keep all his attention to yourself, to kiss him until neither of you can breathe. but you stay in your spot— you know you can’t.

all you can do is watch from afar.

your relationship is a secret, after all. a mutual, and carefully hidden truth between the two of you. it was agreed on, after a deep conversation, that it was probably within your best interest to keep it that way. he didn’t want you to get bombarded by his fans. he knew better than anyone else how it felt like to have random people poke their noses into his business, and he didn't want that for you. and you didn’t want to put a damper on his career, knowing that it could ultimately result in the loss of support for him. this is for the best, so you stay hidden.

(but, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck to not be able to publicly support him the way he deserves.)

it’s a given that you’re not expecting him to look your way— not here, not now. not when he’s basking in the glory of his victory in a crowd of thousands. his crew was crowding him, equally as thrilled as the audience, and paparazzis were swarming around with flashing cameras all asking for his attention.

right now, you weren’t itoshi rin’s girlfriend. you were just another fan in the crowd, standing there, heart filled with pride and joy.

you’re just about ready to leave, uninterested in going onto the track to watch the podium celebrations, ready to escape the crowd and go back to your shared home. you’ve set your mind on the fact that you’re content on congratulating him when he gets back, surprising him with his favorite meal.

but you don’t get far before the crowd erupts again, and this time, everyone’s pushing past one another to get into your section. you don’t even think about it. you just act on instinct, stepping closer to the barrier once again, curiosity getting the best of you.

and then you see him.

he’s breaking free from the chaos, his eyes scanning the crowd with an urgency you’ve never seen before. and there, in the middle of it all, his eyes land on you. your gazes connect, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. he stumbles for a second, momentarily shoved back by the crowd. and then, the next second— there’s no hesitation in his movements as he pushes past the people, ignoring the gasps of offense.

alarms go off in your head; he’s jogging straight towards you.

he still hasn’t stripped himself of his driving kit, not caring enough about that in that moment. he’s still wearing his helmet, face covered and unreadable, and his hands are still wrapped in his gloves.

but then he’s ripping his gloves off, haphazardly throwing them on the ground behind him as he makes a beeline for you. he’s undoing the clasp of his helmet with clumsy hands, and he doesn’t bother to push it fully off, awkwardly laying on top of his head. once his face is no longer blocked by the tinted plastic, you see that his eyes are staring straight at you. there’s a look of set determination on his face, and you can’t deny the feeling of nervousness that washes over you.

for once, it feels like you don't know what he's thinking of doing.

and then rin’s standing in front of you within seconds, and his breath is ragged and uneven from the jog. but he doesn’t wait to catch his breath. not when all he can think of this one thing: his second win of the night. he doesn’t wait for a word from you— no, he doesn’t have the patience. he doesn’t ask for permission. he’s jumping over the barrier, and his hands are gripping at your hips in a heartbeat, pulling you to him.

"tell me," he’s giving you an out before he does something he can’t take back. “tell me if you don’t want me, this, right now.”

you’re not sure what he means, but you answer anyway. “i want this.”

then everything becomes a blur; it all happens so fast. your mind is still reeling from the shock. from how rin’s acting. and you’re overwhelmed by thoughts of the cameras, now all pointed towards you, and rin standing right in front of you. real, and very much not a hallucination. you’re barely able to register anything before one of his hands is traveling up, pushing at the back of your head to pull you into a kiss.

you freeze, unsure of what to do.

you can't help but make a noise of surprise when you make contact with him. it’s soft at first. his lips are moving with yours in a shallow, but hungry, kiss. as if the words he couldn't say were being poured into it, into you. and then his hand is traveling to the nape of your neck, pressing gently against it, and he’s tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

one of your hands instinctively fly up to cradle his jaw, palm cupping his cheeks, gently. the other hand clings onto the collar of his tracksuit, knuckles turning white from your grip.

his hold on you is firm, grounding you, constantly pulling and clutching at you to keep you close to his body. you can feel the desperation, the way his lips stay locked on yours even as you both run out of breath. even when your mind starts to grow fuzzy, and your brain starts to signal for air. as if, in his mind, you would run away from this.

but you don’t. you would never.

in that moment, the world falls into silence around you. the noise from the crowd fades into the background, and it's just you and him. no cameras, no flashing lights. even the plastic of his helmet, digging into the skin of your head, doesn’t bother you. you know nothing but the feeling of his lips against yours, his two hands on you, and the way his heart is beating in sync with yours.

“rin–” you gasp, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. you're coming to your senses, and your palms are weakly pushing at his chest to pull away from him momentarily. but his hands keep you in place, not wanting to let go. “hold on— i thought we were keeping this a secret? so many people are watching us right now.”

you hate this feeling of being pulled back into the present. the fact that you can feel the overbearing presence of the cameras, and how you can practically feel the stares burning holes into the back of your head. but he’s quick to pull your attention back on him, one hand squeezing at your hip reassuringly, the other tilting your chin to face him. his face softens at your words, almost looking guilty, and his eyes filled with tenderness and vulnerability.

focus on me, you can almost hear him say. it's just me.

you're looking at him expectantly, and he can see the worry in your eyes. this is sudden, he's aware, and he knows you both made an agreement. but rin’s never cared much for the approval of the media— he'd only ever cared about you. it’s his, and your, life and no one else’s business.

he'd made up his mind already. he's willing to fight anyone who insults you, and he doesn't care if he loses the support of some fans. (he knows he'll gain more anyway.) he wants to show everyone who’s been truly supporting him.

his number one fan. the one who's behind all his successes.

rin doesn’t want to hide you any longer— he doesn’t want you to hide any longer. he wants the world to know what’s his.

“i don’t care if they're watching,” he breathes against your lips, forehead resting against yours. your breaths are still shallow, chests heaving against each others, but he’s leaning in again for another. “i want to show off my biggest win.”

and his lips are on yours once again.

© rindreamery, 2024

[ode2rin]

clingy!rin is my favorite rin <3

it’s 4:30 am, and rin is now wide awake.

rin woke up 30 minutes before his alarm went off. his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. he blinked a few times, his brain slowly registering that something was off.

that's when he saw your figure turning away from him, your back facing him. you weren't cuddled in his arms like how he remembered falling asleep.

he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed, a typical expression he held in his everyday life, but never towards you. never because of you. except now.

this was the first time it happened. or was it? did you always slip away from his hold when he was fast asleep? did you not like having him close like how he wanted you snuggled in him? or maybe he did something wrong last night? was it something he said? he couldn't recall.

all he knew right now was that he didn't like it. you don’t get to do this to him, rin thought. cuddles were a must for him to function properly! he will never tell you that but he knows you know that!

he laid there for a moment, staring at your back. as much as he hated what was happening right now, he didn't want to wake you up. because as much as you love and adore rin, the earliest of waking up as a part of the pro-athlete life was something you would never try. who in their right mind would wake up at the crack of dawn just to be tired all over again? definitely not you.

rin continued staring at you until his alarm went off. the loud blaring of his alarm stirred you from your sleep. slowly, you turned to rin, and your sleepy eyes blinked up to meet his narrowed ones.

uh oh. someone didn’t have a great sleep, you thought.

“your alarm, rinnie. time to start the day.” you said.

that’s all you could say? no explanation? fine. 

rin let out what seemed like a huff, causing you to open your eyes. lo and behold, rin was pouting.

rin itoshi was pouting. at 5 am.

curious as to what was making your lover sulk so early in the morning, you reached out to cup his jaw. “what’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly.

“you.”

it was now your turn to frown. “me? what do you mean?”

“you were turned away from me.” rin said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

you must be on a mission to completely infuriate him as you utter a “huh?” in response.

“i woke up and you were turned away from me.” rin replied, a little bolder and louder this time.

“oh.”

rin scoffed at your realization, completely opposite to the smile forming on your lips. 

you opened your arms, beckoning him closer. “come here, rinnie,” you said, your voice tender and soothing.

rin might be feeling a little grumpy, but who was he to decline such a sweet offer?

slowly, rin laid himself in your arms, his face buried in your neck as he took his time to get lost in your scent.

you stroked rin's hair, “i'm sorry,” you said, leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, kissing the grumpiness away, “i must have moved in my sleep.”

rin let out a sigh at your answer, accepting that it was out of your control.

he wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you close to him. “just don't do it again,” he said, his voice hot against your neck. “i need you close to me.”

you smiled at his words. even if your boyfriend might be frequently grumpy and unconventionally clingy, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.

[megumismyhusband]

“why are we buying this?” rin asks, holding up a jar of pickles with a frown.

“because we’re out,” you reply, tossing it into the cart.

he trailed behind you, scrutinizing every item you picked. “do we really need more snacks? and why are you getting two boxes of cereal?”

you turn, glaring at him. “why are you even here if you’re just going to criticize my shopping?”

“because last time you forgot the milk,” he said flatly, reaching over to grab a bottle and add it to the cart.

you roll your eyes. “okay, grocery expert, what else do we need?”

he paused, glancing at the cart before quietly sneaking in a pack of his favorite energy bars. you raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“hypocrite,” you teased.

“efficient shopper,” he corrected with a faint smile.

[emmyrosee]

Itoshi Rin has an ugly laugh.

Normally you’re greeted with a huff and a smirk, and that’s the extent of the amusement he likes to show to you. Occasionally, a little laugh manages its way out, and you relish in the rare sound as much as you can before he inevitably clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest to suppress it.

But every now and again… once in a moon, the facade slips. There’s a crack in the concrete, a flaw in the code, and Itoshi Rin’s laughter soars.

“Baby,” you snicker at your phone. “Look at this video of Isagi slipping on ice.”

It’s one from Bachira, they’d been walking around the city, and Isagi flashed the camera the biggest peace sign he could muster before absolutely eating it against the sidewalk, arms flailing and legs cartoonishly slipping out from under him. Bachria screams in laughter, camera shaking wildly before it cuts off.

You watch Rin’s lip twitch. Then, he snorts. Then the wall completely crumbles as Rin cackles.

It’s hideous, it’s terrible, it’s uncontrollable as Rin shakes with laughter next to you, it’s somewhere between a bird caw and a car that won’t start, and you’d think it would be painful.

But it’s also just so imperfectly delightful. Rin is so… Rin, there’s no showing of weakness or denial of strength, and when you’re finally able to indulge in the side of Rin that he tries to hide so desperately, you can’t help but be enthralled.

You smile and sink your teeth into your lip as he comes down from his laughing fit, giggles replacing the cackles from just moments ago. A hand covers his mouth, and his eyes soften from their intense, laugh-driven furrow, and it isn’t until his pretty lashes flutter open and he looks at you, that a bright blush spreads across his face, and he clears his throat to gain some decorum.

“I love you,” you say simply.

He looks at you, confused. “Okay. I love you too?”

“You’re just so perfect, my handsome, perfect man-“

“Alright, you’re obsessed with me, I get it,” he groans. “What brought this on?”

You reach up to gently pinch his cheek, and he grumbles and bats your hand away, “you’re just so cute. I can’t help it.” You rest your head on his shoulder, but he doesn’t try to move you, “and I love your laugh.”

He groans again in embarrassment. You smirk.

“Freak,” he spits. “My laugh isn’t anything you need to concern yourself with, let alone enjoy.”

“But it’s so perfect.”

“It’s not.”

“Is too!” You chirp.

“Is not!”

You skitter your fingers up his side, and he yelps a snort before sharply grabbing your offending hand, glaring at you.

“It is.” You lean forward to kiss the tip of his flushed nose. “You are.”

He clicks his tongue.

But says nothing else.