#itoshi sae fluff
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kaiser1ns ¡ 18 hours ago
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"If I hear Hakuna Matata one more, I swear..." Being a father also meant spending time with his child and doing whatever she wanted, even if that included watching The Lion King for the 10th time this week. And there she was, Itoshi Sae's pride cuddled beside him under the soft blanket as she hugged her Simba plushie.
"It means no worries for the rest of your days!" she sang along with the young lion cub on the screen, swaying side to side with a bright, toothy grin. But when she glanced up at her father, she saw no such enthusiasm. "Daddy, why aren't you singing with me?" He knows this expression very well, this specific manipulation through the eyes and the sad smile, making everyone feel guilty for doing what she wants—she got that from you.
Sae sighed, annoyed and on the verge of his limits for tonight when he started at his daughter and then back at the TV screen, regretting all his life choices. "It's our problem-free philosophy..."
"HAKUNA MATATA!" she screamed jumping from the couch to the wooden coffee table holding her plushie high up, twirling in her dress as she danced to the rhythm of the song. Sometimes he wonders if she has his DNA because she has the same personality as her mother. Even though she was a carbon copy of him with the same hair and eye color, and the six lower eyelashes... Well, she was yours as much as she was his.
You come back from doing the laundry to find your husband and daughter having fun together. She’s giggling as he picks her up from the table and into his arms, saying, “It’s time to go to bed, little lion because the lion should sleep tonight in the quiet jungle.” You can’t help but laugh softly—oh, the lines from the movie have clearly gotten to him already. But then, he stops mid-step when he notices you standing there, a gentle smile on your face, filled with love at the sight of your little family.
Your daughter, however, is quick to wiggle in his arms, demanding, “I want Mama!” Sae lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes before handing her over to you. The moment she’s in your embrace, the four-year-old menace transforms, instantly calming down. It doesn’t take long before she’s snuggled up against you, eyes fluttering closed, falling asleep in the comfort of her mom’s hug.
Together, you and Sae carry her to her bed, kissing her forehead and tucking her in. She clings tightly to her beloved Simba plushie, a tiny smile on her face as she drifts deeper into sleep. With a final glance at your sleeping daughter, the two of you step back into the living room, collapsing onto the couch.
The Lion King is paused on the TV, but neither of you moves to unpause it just yet. You’re too wrapped up in each other, cuddling close as Sae starts talking about how much your daughter loves the movie. “It’s all she talks about,” he says sounding tired when his hand brushes against yours and you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. “You should enjoy it,” you say softly. “She won’t be a little kid forever.”
His arms tighten around you at your words, and you sit there cherishing the quiet moment together when he starts humming something, a familiar melody that is definitely not from the movie. Yeah, you can definitely feel the love tonight.
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Š2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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lumiambrose ¡ 2 days ago
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୨♡୧ Don't lie to me
Sae Itoshi x reader, fluff
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Romance trope mini series - Rivals to lovers
Sae doesn't seem to appreciate your uptight attitude and habit of avoiding him during BM and Re Al's friendly match. So, of course, he takes matters into his own hands... 0.9k wc
C.ai bot by LinhDao
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Being Bastard München’s PR manager isn’t an easy job: the hot-headed football players, the fangirls—it’s all chaos. Of course, the boys do their best to make work easy for you, but even they have their limits. Especially today.
The meeting hall buzzes with restless energy, the crowd of fans and journalists packed too tightly into the space. Your job as Bastard München’s PR manager is to keep this chaotic event organised, but with Re Al Madrid’s under-20s in attendance, it feels more like refereeing a rivalry than hosting a professional PR event.
Your gaze flits across the room, settling on Sae Itoshi, Re Al Madrid’s superstar midfielder. He stands slightly apart from his team, arms crossed and expression as unreadable as ever. Sae doesn’t waste time with the crowd or the media. No forced smiles, no effort to charm anyone. Just a detached, almost clinical focus, as though the event is beneath him.
You can’t stand him. Frankly, you’d call him bratty and ignorant if you could. He has a type of arrogance that feels dismissive of everyone around him. And being a member of the New Gen XI only makes it worse. It’s as though he’s been put on a pedestal, and he seems content right where he is, looking down on the rest of the football world.
“Need a second to calm down?�� Ness’s soft voice interrupts your train of thought. He’s at your side, his usual amused smile tainted with a bit of worry as he follows your gaze to Sae.
“Ahh, Ness.” Your consciousness quickly jolting back to the meeting room, your gaze softening ever so slightly. “I’m calm,” you reply sharply, adjusting your outfit, making sure you’re the epitome of professionalism once the event starts. “I just hate how full of himself he is.”
Ness shrugs. “He’s good enough to back it up.”
You swallow back the retort in your throat as the event finally kicks off. The Q&A session goes smoothly enough—until Sae speaks, of course.
When the mic is handed to him, he doesn’t play to the crowd, nor does he deflect any uncomfortable questions. His responses are blunt and to the point, what you would expect from him. So when a fan asks about his feelings toward Bastard München, his response is as cutting as it is dispassionate: “They’re fine. Good players. Not the best.”
You glare at him from the front row, your professionalism threatening to crack next to your manager's. He meets your gaze, his teal eyes sharp and unwavering, but his expression gives nothing away. He doesn’t care what you think, nor does he need to.
As the Q&A wraps up and the players prepare for the friendly match, you focus on keeping everything running smoothly. Taking multiple photos and videos here and there for social media.
On the field, Sae is everything you would expect from a New Gen XI member. He doesn’t waste movements, doesn’t bother with flashy plays—everything he does serves a purpose.
It’s not until after the match that you have the chance to reunite with your players. “Not bad, huh?” Ness says, sidling up to you again as he finishes his water bottle, clearly exhausted from what was supposed to be a “friendly” match.
You cross your arms. “He’s good. Doesn’t mean he’s not insufferable.”
Ness chuckles. “I think that’s just him being honest.”
You don’t have a response for that. Sae’s honesty isn’t what irks you; it’s the lack of warmth behind it. He’s not arrogant in the traditional sense; he’s simply detached, too detached. As though none of this—including you—really matters.
When the day finally comes to an end, you’re gathering your things when Sae approaches. You fail to notice him until he’s standing directly in front of you, inches apart. His imposing presence catching you off guard.
“You don’t like me.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement, delivered in his usual blunt tone.
You blink, startled. The audacity of this man. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve been glaring at me all day,” he continues, his teal eyes boring into yours. “If you have something to say, say it.”
He raises an eyebrow, cutting off your denial. “Don’t lie. It’s a waste of time.”
You’re too stunned to respond. What the fuck? Your carefully constructed professionalism crumbling under the weight of his unflinching gaze and a couple of words. Sae doesn’t wait for you to recover.
“I don’t care if you like me,” he says, his voice holding zero emotion to it. “But if you want to keep up, you’ll need to be honest with yourself.”
And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, mouth agape and clearly at a loss for words. You’re not sure what just happened, but one thing is clear: Sae Itoshi isn’t someone you can ignore, no matter how much you want to.
And he doesn’t plan on letting you either. It’s only once you’ve made it back to the safety of your apartment that you open your bag to find a neatly folded piece of paper.
You’re too easy to read. If you have something to say, don’t hold back.
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Taglist: @sky-casino, @bbladie (join my taglist here)
©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
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yuquinzel ¡ 8 months ago
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— nobody’s business.
feat. itoshi sae. a little sensual. 700+ wc. self indulgent :> publicizing your relationship with japan’s star player.
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itoshi sae is holding onto your hand, a little more firmly than ever before. teal eyes out ahead on the field in front of you both searching for something you can’t name. you follow his gaze— it’s on the bleachers first, then hastily eyeing every player on the pitch. it’s on the spectators one second, then it’s on the cameras panning and zooming in from every direction.
sae grimaces when one such camera directs at the two of you, pulling you behind and away from the prying eyes of the media eager to catch just a glimpse of japan’s prized player and his partner who he keeps oh so hidden from the world.
he’s never denied being in a relationship. never tried to refute dating allegations with a non-celebrity, never once fazed to address the blurred pictures of him making out with someone in his car, never tried to hide the bruises on his neck that catch the eye of every fan leaving nobody wondering what it really is. he knows what they’ll do once they really know who you are— the paparazzi wouldn’t fucking leave you alone, following you everywhere. magazines would be willing to kill to get just one word from you and twist it to their likings. sae’s discreet with his words though, never gives them something to work with.
it was not until you addressed it to him yourself. just another article surfacing all around social media. something that had left a bitter taste on your tongue. ‘ itoshi sae and his supposed girlfriend ! ’ — it’s a picture of sae with a model you don’t know the name of, attending an event you weren’t invited to. he looks clearly unimpressed. but it helps little when every single comment under the article is how of well the two look together.
how well itoshi sae looks with someone who’s not you.
“you’ve already denied the rumours, so then why...” you’d said, avoiding his gaze for reasons you can’t pinpoint. “they always make up shit to write when their lukewarm ass doesn’t have real shit to sell.” he’d answered, “don’t think much about it. they’ll forget about it soon.”
when you didn’t say anything back, sae had known what he was to do. he’d known what it was you were asking of him with your silence. and for you, he was more than willing.
he’s sure a few cameras would’ve captured him with you by now, your face clear and beautiful for everyone to see and engrave on their papers and headlines. they’ll adorn you with pretty words and pretty adjectives, and he’ll have to share you with the eyes of the world now. something about it leaves a bitter flavor on his tongue, so he kisses you instead to taste the sweetness of your lips.
“don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasps between the kisses, one hand coming to cradle your jaw while the other hooks around your waist. “look at only me.”
“only you.” you say and sae breathes you in. he leans down closer, lips moving against yours more desperately than ever. he’s pleased with your answer. phantom touches of his hands slithering under your shirt and tracing the skin of your abdomen.
you forget about the match about to start in a mere minutes, about the cameras still desperate to get one glimpse of this very scene, and if you do remember that his teammates would march out any second now— sae makes you forget about everyone else when he tugs on your bottom lip lightly, “afraid? ” he challenges you with a long, languid glide of his tongue, “of what? I’m the only thing on your mind. ”
later when the game ends with the final pass from sae leading to a goal, the camera pans to you sitting in the vip section and cheering for sae and his team. another pans to sae when he notices you on the screen. sae ignores the roars of the crowd, ignores his teammates gathering around him, screaming for their win. he looks at you, waiting intently. you know what he’s asking of you — did you watch? he shifts forward ever so slightly — was i good?
you’re smiling as you mouth a clear I’m so proud of you — and only then does sae feels like he’s won.
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Š yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
why am I posting this it's a year old 🧘🏻‍♀️🧘🏻‍♀️
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rindreamery ¡ 13 days ago
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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 𝜗𝜚 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)
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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. 
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Š rindreamery, 2024
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saerins ¡ 6 months ago
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ᯓ ᝰ CRAZY GOOD .ᐟ — itoshi sae
hold up, netizens. you’re in for a treat this time because guess what? out of all people, it’s time for itoshi sae to hard launch his girlfriend: you.
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itoshi sae x female reader. content tags pro-player!sae, established relationship, profanity, kissing, kind of a tease here, he likes showing you off, oliver is the matchmaker. word count 1.5k
ᯓ notes .ᐟ hi guys i finally have some sae content for you all !!! >:) yes i’ve missed him , and no i didn’t abandon him :’) heh i hope all my sae lovers that are still here will like this mwah <3
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there are many things that itoshi sae is good at.
soccer skills, one of them. snubbing people, the second. (that’s how he got the reputation of being rude—even if it’s not really true!) and three, not last and not least (but still substantially), it’s causing a buzz.
he caused a buzz the moment he debuted on the soccer field. his first game and he already made a name for himself. people started asking where he’d been his whole life (even if he was introduced to the people very early on), equating him to soccer megastars like cristiano ronaldo.
ever since that day, he’d been caught in the spotlight numerous times. mostly related to soccer, but some due to his personal life. more specifically, the media loves to take a guess on who he’s dating.
yeah, he’s had more than his fair share of dating rumours. if it were up to the media, sae would have had about thirty-four girlfriends by now and he’s only twenty-six this year. (go fish!)
but as many people do, almost everyone who consumes media content about sae is particularly interested in one thing that is shrouded in mystery: his dating life.
because despite all the rumours and whatnot, there’s never been any confirmation of any relationships at all. and no one in his circle has ever coughed anything up, so anything in that regard has been strictly hush-hush.
well, until tonight, when your boyfriend of six months invited you to one of his teammates’ high-profile birthday party.
“what, are you nervous?”
your boyfriend’s ever unbothered tone is still the same as when you first heard it a year ago. somehow you find it funny that one year later you’re living with the same guy you’d first found to be somewhat intolerable.
sighing, you try and zip up the back of your dress, looking into the mirror, making sure you have your best face on. “sae, you have fans that number in the millions, of course i’m nervous,” you comment, watching from the reflection in the mirror as sae saunters over to you, taking his hands out of his pocket.
he smirks at you through the mirror, his body pressed against you as he helps you zip your dress the rest of the way up, his lips right next to your ear. “i’ve never even seen you this nervous in front of me,” he says, poking a little fun at you as he gives you a light kiss on your temple.
a soft chuckle comes from him as you deadpan, obviously in much more distress than he’ll ever know. not that he’ll blame you; he’s used to the fame, you’re not. “relax, they’ll love you.”
“sae, they won’t.”
he shrugs. “yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees, earning a small slap on the arm—and he’s laughing again, though this time he tilts your chin up and gives you a long, slow kiss. the kind that takes your breath away everytime he does it. “but who cares? i love you.”
and there he goes, saying that as if it’s no big deal. making your heart beat so quickly it’s not funny. and before you know it, he’s whisking you away into the lobby where a personal towncar is ready and waiting, with the chauffeur and everything.
“geez, oliver sure loves to go over the top, huh?”
sae gives a sharp exhale at your comment. “hey, that’s your friend right there.”
you roll your eyes, getting in first and sticking your tongue out at him. “and you should be thanking him, without him we’d never have met.”
you look away from him right after saying that so you don’t see it, but sae’s smiling to himself, already thanking his lucky stars.
he thinks meeting you and getting to love you is the luckiest he’ll ever get in this lifetime.
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by the time you’ve arrived at the venue—a hotel in the heart of the city—swarms of paparazzi already litter the streets outside. they’ve no doubt had their fill of the other soccer players and mega celebrities that have already arrived and are now ready for the real star of the night (aside from the birthday boy himself): itoshi sae.
of course, everyone’s expecting to see sae all by himself because that’s what usually happens; sae attending any and every event alone and unbothered by the scene. it’s never a surprise anymore, but sae’s a good payday and they’d never miss a single shot.
the moment sae exits the car, it sounds like there’s a million shutters pressed all at the same time, give or take a few milliseconds. (it’s nothing you’re used to.) he stands right where he got out for a few seconds, and even inside you can hear the amount of photographers just begging sae to look straight at them.
and if you think that’s rowdy enough, oh boy you’re in for a treat. because the moment the paparazzi realise that sae’s not, in fact, headed for the hotel just yet, you can hear just a few confused noises before it turns into even more pleading the moment they realise he’s opening your side of the door.
when he opens it and holds his hand out for you, that ever handsome smile on his face (which you forget that he only ever shows to you), you feel like you’re nearly blinded by all the flashes. you brave through it though, taking his hand and getting out of the town car, being greeted by the mass of photographers yelling out to you and sae.
“sae, who is that!”
“hey, girl! look over here! yes right there!”
“what’s your relationship?”
“obviously that’s his girlfriend! hey you!”
you’re a little wide-eyed, stunned at how chaotic this scene is. it’s easy to lose yourself in it, but as it always is, sae realises it whenever you are, and he’s quick to pull you back in.
in this case, he pulls you into his arms, a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he rests his forehead against yours.
“hey, focus on me, just me,” he whispers to you, eyes looking into yours, eyelashes fluttering against one another’s.
(the paparazzi are having a field day.)
“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you ask him, chuckling because you only now realise what a fucking tease he is.
sae shrugs, pulling your hair away from your face. (he’s actually just really grateful to you for doing this for him when you don’t need to—when you’re happy to just be able to support him behind the scenes but he really just wants the world to know that you exist, because it’s a blessing, really.) “maybe i am.”
and this time your heart’s beating faster than you know it ever could, his teal blue eyes melting into your gaze, lips getting closer and closer to your own, his calloused hand on the back of your neck.
like clockwork, his lips sink into yours, his tongue snaking its way in. (and the crowd goes absolutely wild.) you’re both laughing at the panicked and hurried yells from the photographers, slowly pulling away from each other.
you reach your hand out to wipe your lipstick stain off his lips but he doesn’t let you, winking at you and leaning in to whisper, “let everyone know who i belong to.”
such a fucking tease.
not that you’re opposed, so you let him be, shaking your head and following him as he holds your hand and leads you in.
within the next hour, pictures of you and sae flood the internet. (notifications come flooding into your phone too.)
itoshi sae hard launches new relationship with mystery woman!
soccer world loses another bachelor—everything we know about itoshi sae’s presumed girlfriend
most of them are pictures of your kiss, with a good chunk of it being his lipstick-stained lips.
as you scroll through some of the articles your friends texted to you, you’re probably never going to be used to it. you’re probably going to be anxious over everything you do in public now.
a slight panic bubbles up in your chest, but then sae comes over, pulling you backwards into his embrace, looking over your shoulder at your phone.
“that quick, huh?”
and suddenly it’s like anxiety has never existed. because even if it may not seem like much, a year of knowing itoshi sae has made you feel safer than you ever did, knowing that he’s always there to catch you, to never make you feel alone.
you melt into his embrace, turning your head and giving him a kiss, your lipstick stain still on his lips.
“i fucking love you, itoshi sae.”
his eyes widen a little before they grow soft, arms pulling you even closer. “i love you too, stupid.”
(and while the two of you are getting all lovey-dovey at his party, oliver’s just slightly—a lot—upset that sae upstaged him during his own birthday party.)
“i fucking hate the both of you,” oliver groans.
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rinnstars ¡ 2 months ago
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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?
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sheyfu ¡ 6 months ago
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𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?
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— 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅!𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
— 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽’𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗌𝖾.
— 𝖼𝗐: 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖨𝖬 𝖲𝖮𝖱𝖱𝖱𝖸𝖸𝖸𝖸𝖸𝖸𝖸 😭😭😭😭); 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗍 (?) 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 (𝗌𝖺𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝖿𝗋); 𝖻𝗋𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 (𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽); 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗀𝗈 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾 (𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅); 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗌 (𝗅𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗒); 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗈𝖼 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝗁𝗆
— 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗂 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖧𝖨𝖴𝖠𝖥𝖲𝖠𝖥𝖩 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒𝗒𝗒!! 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖴𝖲𝖣𝖧 𝖧𝖮𝖯𝖤 𝖨 𝖣𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖣 𝖬𝖬𝖬𝖧𝖬𝖧𝖧𝖬𝖬; 𝖨 𝖧𝖮𝖯𝖤 𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱𝖸𝖮𝖭𝖤 𝖤𝖭𝖩𝖮𝖸𝖲 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖲 𝖳𝖮𝖮𝖮 <33333; 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋??; 𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝗒 @joeys-piano!! 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖪 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖲𝖮 𝖬𝖴𝖢𝖧 𝖧𝖲𝖨𝖣𝖩𝖩; 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖫𝖬𝖠𝖮𝖮𝖮 𝗆𝗒 𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗋𝗋 🤞🤞🤞
𝗐𝖼: 700+
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the smell of pancakes and coffee wafts through the air as you cook breakfast. the morning sun hitting all the right spots in your home makes you feel relaxed and comforted—your unconscious humming being the proof of that. 
you fall into a state of peace and calm as you spoon pancake batter on the pan; its quiet sizzles distract you from all the stress you’ve been collecting from the past week.
and because of your good mood, the fluffiest and most perfect pancakes come out as you flip them; little dances being performed by you to celebrate your small achievement.
your serenity, however, is short-lived by loud and heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs.
“what the fuck is this?” a rough voice, laced with sleep, soon interrupts your quiet morning. 
so much for peace and quiet. 
sighing, you turn the stove off as you prepare to face the magenta-haired parasite you’ve been living with.
“oh me, oh my! looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today. what’s got your lashes in a twist anyway?” you say as you turn around to face your one and only itoshi sae, who’s currently dressed in nothing but his boxers and a very noticeable scowl on his face. 
typical. 
“so? care to explain what this is?” his phone is suddenly shoved into your face in the midst of your daydreaming. you focus your eyes on the device, seeing an edit of a woman wearing sae’s jersey—arctic monkeys playing in the background.
hm? what’s this? another attention seeking who- wait. 
you bring your face closer to the phone, making sure what you’re seeing is true. 
holy shit is that me?!
“what the fuck…” you cover your mouth in disbelief. 
zoning in on the face in the edit, your suspicions are confirmed to be true, with the tags giving you that double confirmation you’re looking for.
“oh my god that is me…” slowly raising your head to look at your boyfriend, expecting him to still have that stupid scowl on his face, only to be met with a look of pure disgust and hints of jealousy on his face.
“oi! why the fuck are you lookin’ at me like that?” you say offended by just looking at his face.
“oh please!” his dramatic ass says as he removes the phone from your face. “just imagine having to see edits of your girlfriend on your fyp and people thirsting over her.” he says, closing and slamming his phone on the countertop. “even having the audacity to say shit like “oooo she’s so fuckin’ hot” or “the things i’d let her do to me” oh and even asking stupid questions like “can your boyfriend fight?” the man child says with a high-pitched mocking voice as he flails his arms around while rolling his eyes.
“like what the fuck. i mean, don’t get me wrong, hermosa. i know you’re hot as fuck but damn their comments are fuckin’ unnecessa-”
you cut his rant off by grabbing his cheeks and shutting him up with a kiss. you pull away moments after, laughing at his wide eyes and parted lips.
“don’t be so mad now, guapo. after all, it was your idea to invite me to the game.” you laugh, letting go of the man as you turn back to the stovetop. 
“oh and also,” looking back once more to face sae who’s now sporting a pout and furrowed eyebrows. “before acting all pissy, make sure to tone your voice down, yeah?” you snicker at his dumbfounded face. “could hear you giggling all the way down here.” his face flushes, possibly putting chigiri hyoma’s hair to shame.
wish i could’ve taken a picture of it. 
“shut up.” he says as he grabs his phone. “i’m breaking up with you.” grumbling, he proceeds to go back to your shared bedroom, stomping like a little child.
my dear sae. you’re so cute.
“yeah right. breakfast will be ready in a bit. also, you love me too much. pretty sure if you break up with me you’d waste your time re-watching my edits instead of playing soccer.” you say loudly, a teasing lilt to your voice. 
“shut up!” you hear your boyfriend shout from upstairs.
laughing at his antics, you shout an “i love you!” to him, only to be met with silence.
you shake your head, a smile growing on your face.  
and as you begin plating your food, you hear the same song faintly playing upstairs, and small, yet resounding giggles from your boyfriend.
he’s fuckin’ obsessed with me. 
you chuckle at the thought, going back to preparing breakfast with a big smile on your face.
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uzurakis ¡ 7 months ago
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BLUE LOCK REQ!! SOMETHING WITH SAE'S GF WEARING HIS JERSEYY?? THANKYOUU
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“isn’t that my jersey?” he remarks, face deadpans as he emphasizes the my in his tone. you stroll into the living room wearing your beloved boyfriend’s jersey; the fabric soft against your skin and the oversized fit adds a comfortable charm to your appearance
knowing exactly how he’ll react, you pridefully boast him. “yep, the one and only itoshi sae’s jersey,” you confirm, flashing him a playful wink. “thought i’d borrow it for the day.”
“tck tck,” sae shakes his head, sneering at you. “always stealing my clothes,” he mutters, standing up from the chair and walks straight to you. “give it back,” trapping you in his cuddle while you giggle at his attempt to show his kind of affection.
“orr what? besides, it’s not stealing if you’re willing to share,” you counter, playfully trying to break free from his smothered trap, “get off ‘f me or i’m not giving this back, itoshi sae.”
sae chuckles softly, letting you free as reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately. “it’s still my jersey,” he concedes, tugging your shirt like a lost kid, a smile hugging at the corners of his lips. “but just remember, that jersey belongs to the best midfielder in the league.”
you roll your eyes playfully, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “i’ll keep that in mind,” you promise, enjoying the banter between you two. but as you attempt to retreat, sae catches hold of the fabric, tugging you gently back toward him.
“no, seriously, give it back,” he protests, his face back being expressionless. “i need that for practice tomorrow.”
leaning back slightly to avoid his grasp, you chuckle. “i’ll give it back later,” you assure him, dancing out of his reach. “right now, it’s mine.”
sae narrows his eyes in seriousness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “is that so?” he challenges, taking a step closer to you. “i guess i’ll just have to take it back then.”
you squeal with laughter, darting away as he lunges playfully after you. the two of you chase each other around the room, the sound of your laughter filling the air. and as you finally collapse onto the couch together, breathless and giggling. only when you mouth i win, sae flops down beside you, his chest rising and falling with exertion.
“alright, you win. one day, just one day and i’m taking back whatever’s mine.”
“of course, you included, stupid.”
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@uzurakis
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saetoru ¡ 2 years ago
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tee you know what would he so funny and i keep thinking about? is if you were seen with one of the blue lock men’s friends or teammates, and then there’s a picture on the news like “y/n cheating on ___?” 💀 idk i just giggle into my hand at the idea
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BLUE LOCK + RUMORS THAT YOU’RE DATING SOMEBODY ELSE
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✩ — characters ⋮ itoshi sae, mikage reo, shidou ryusei ✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationships, rather pouty and salty boys <3 ✩ — notes ⋮ nauurr this is actually so cute so i decided to turn them into kind of short drabbles w a few boys <3
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。ITOSHI SAE.
sae stares at his screen and blinks. you fight back a grin as he rereads the title, trying not to let out a small giggle.
“itoshi sae bested by little brother in love,” he reads blankly, and you almost think he doesn’t care if not for the way his hand clutches his phone a little tighter.
“sae, it’s not our fault, okay?” you chuckle, shuffling closer on the bed, wrapping yourself around him, “the paparazzi just caught us off guard. you know how they twist things for the headlines.” he does know—but still, he eyes you from the side before scrolling along the article and staring at more pictures of you and rin walking out of the convenience store.
“you went with rin? really?” he grumbles, eyeing a picture of you both laughing as you walk out the store. why is it so easy for rin to laugh at your jokes? more importantly, why is it so easy for you to laugh at his?
“well technically you were supposed to go with me, but you were being grumpy,” you huff, looking at him with raised brows.
it’s rare for both the brothers to be at their old childhood home at the same time, they never really get vacations that overlap enough to visit their parents together—and it’s never really been a priority for either of them with such an…estranged relationship. but this year’s a rare stroke of luck, and sae’s mother insists he brings you along with him for the ‘full family effect.’
except he rarely leaves the room if not to go for his jog or the gym—and you’re tired of being cooped up indoors all day. so when he opts for staying in to rewatch a match when you practically beg him to go to the convenience store around the corner with you, and rin so graciously offers to walk with you to grab a few things himself—how could you decline?
“i wasn’t being grumpy,” he says bitterly, “i was busy. it’s different.”
“well, me and rin had a blast,” you tease, pointing at the pictures on his phone, “as you can see.”
“shut up,” he scowls, locking his phone and crossing his arms. it’s cute to see him like this—slightly jealous and petulant as he tries to shrug it off like he doesn’t care. you giggle, leaning to peck his cheek.
“so? how does it feel to have your brother steal the love of your life?”
“i don’t know,” he rolls his eyes, “seems to me like you came crawling right back to me in the end.”
“not taking it well, huh,” you say amused—and finally, he wraps a loose arm around your figure as you sprawl yourself on his chest, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “you know how you can win me back over? taking me to the store next time i ask.”
“oh trust me,” he says with a sour look on his face, making you snort as you poke his nose, “you’re not walking past that door without me next time.”
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MIKAGE REO.
reo is distraught.
“look at these comments,” he cries, shoving his phone in your face.
“reo,” you try to fight back a giggle, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately as you try to soothe his crisis, “it’ll blow over, don’t worry. me and nagi were just getting snacks.”
“yeah but they’re completely trashing me,” he whines, eyes all but popping out of his sockets as he reads the comments on the twitter post, “‘you know you’re lame when even your money isn’t enough to keep someone?’ what does that even mean?”
“it means you’re losing your charm,” you tease, cackling when he throws you a soft glare from his spot on the couch. he’s scooches away from you, sitting on the opposite end as he holds up a hand.
“you stay on your half,” he huffs, “i don’t want to sit with a cheater.”
“i didn’t cheat!” you snort, “we went to get snacks for you too—”
“yeah and you forgot them,” he glares.
“i said sorry!”
“well, it doesn’t help,” he pouts as he turns back to his phone, glaring at his screen as he reads the way some of the comments are now claiming you and nagi are a cute couple. it makes his brows furrow as a vein all but pops in his forehead, making you bite your lip so as not to laugh and hurt your boyfriend’s already painfully bruised ego.
“baby, you know you’re the only guy for me,” you grin, shuffling over to his side of the couch, giggling as you cling to him while he tries to (gently) shove you off.
“i don’t know,” he grumbles, “clearly i’m not since you haven’t even defended me in these comments.”
“i’ll make sure to tell them your money still has all the appeal,” you grin, earning a sharp look from him as you throw your head back and laugh. “i’m kidding.”
“you’re not,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. he looks cute like this—makes your heart soar as you lean closer and cup his cheeks and press soft kisses along his face. and even as he tries to fight it, he can’t help but smile a little and lean into your touch.
“i’ll make sure to defend your honor in the comments,” you murmur, biting his cheek playfully. he turns, leans in for a peck to the lips as he sighs.
“you better,” he mutters, “these people are ruthless.”
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SHIDOU RYUSEI.
shidou is a nightmare if you’ve ever met one—makes your life increasingly difficult because how dare someone write an article that hints that what’s his could be anyone else’s?
“what do you want for dinner?” you ask, sighing as he shrugs.
“oh, i don’t know,” he grins condescendingly, “why don’t you let your other boyfriend decide?”
“ryusei—”
“if i see him, he’s gonna be one with the concrete, i’ll tell you that.”
“don’t even think about getting into trouble. that’s your teammate,” you pinch your nose, trying to be the one and only voice of reason there evidently is, “we just saw each other at the store and said hi—”
“why did he need to say hi?” he growls, crossing his arms as he stares at his screen again, eyeing the title of the article that’s single handedly spoiled your afternoon with a moody boyfriend in your hands. “i should teach him a lesson—”
“you should do no such thing—”
“you know what? i don’t even care,” he says suddenly, and there’s too much of a wicked grin on his face for you to feel at ease about his sudden turn of mood.
“ryusei.” your voice comes out as a warning, but he pays it mind.
“yeah, babe?” he says sweetly, scrolling through his phone and making your stomach churn as you walk over.
“what are you—” and then there’s a buzz of your phone, cutting you off as you hesitantly glance at it in your hand, noticing the mention you have from him. “what did you do?” you narrow your eyes.
“nothing,” he shrugs, “just cleared the air.”
and if you were unsettled before, you’re certainly concerned now because shidou ryusei taking matters into his own hands can only mean a headache for you and serious damage control for his team. you groan, rubbing your temple as you prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.
“what could you possibly—are you kidding me, ryusei? are you out of your mind?” you stare at the picture he’s posted, one of him practically sucking your face off in the middle of god knows where—when did he even get this picture? and who took it? but as quickly as the questions pop into your head, you decide just as fast that you don’t even want to know.
“that’ll teach ‘em,” he grins darkly, and he has the audacity to look proud of himself, earning himself a harsh glare from you. he only snickers, grabs you by the wrist and tugs you onto his lap on the couch. “wanna recreate the picture?” he grins widely.
“no i want to delete the picture,” you grumble.
“not an option,” he says smugly, and then his lips are on yours—and even if he’s shaved ten years off your life, you think it’s at least a good thing that he’s back to his usual self.
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i want to have a lil salty sae in my bed immediately.
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xinghius ¡ 2 months ago
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There Is A Place For You
"Saeee?"
It's supposed to be on for another three minutes, the face mask he's wearing — given how much he paid for it, he sure as fuck planned on getting his money's worth — but if the way you call out for him from the bedroom isn't enough to get him to peel the soaked sheet off his face in haste, he isn't sure what else would be. "Coming," he intones.
Four minutes earlier than planned, Sae steps out of the bathroom, his footsteps silent as he crosses over the threshold, the towel in his hand soaking up excess droplets of water forming puddles in his hair. Hanging it over his shoulders when he's finally done, his forehead puckers at the sight laid out in front of him.
You're huddled up in bed, blanket tucked underneath the dip of your chin, your arms spread over its surface — like melted butter over toasted bread.
He almost melts, too.
It's nothing out of the ordinary, seeing you like this. The only stroke out of place in this picture of normalcy is the fact that you're still awake; you've usually tilted to sleep by now.
(Despite valiant efforts to stay up to welcome him with open arms, with how demanding his schedule is — and how often it translates to him staying overtime to take showers in musk scented locker rooms — it's no more than an exercise in futility.)
"I got lonely," you confess
You pat down the area beside you in invitation — the space you reserve for him, despite how often vacancy occupies it in his stead. "Join me?" you say, your lips just out into a pout. The same one that never fails to get you what you want.
He rolls his eyes, slipping on a fresh shirt over his head — an action you respond to with a whiny protest — before reprimanding you on the importance of routine.
His, at least.
Still, he ends up lying next to you anyway, the final step of his skincare neglected, his shirt long abandoned on the floor, and your fingers tracing arbitrary shapes on his chest.
Wherever the fuck his towel went, he has no idea either.
You hum in content, pressed warm against his skin. He has half the mind to say something, but he's never been much of a talker, and the whirring of the ceiling fan above feels sufficient enough to inhabit the silence.
For you, not too much.
"Can I kiss you?" Your voice slices a clean cut right through it, reaching his heart as well.
He glances at you askance, raising an eyebrow. Inquisitive. Maybe a tad vexed. Flipping onto his side and propping up against an elbow, he looks almost betrayed. "That's a stupid question," he arraigns, the accusatory inflection in his tone unmistakable.
"There's no such thing as a stupid question," you say.
He scoffs.
"Coming from your mouth, there's always plenty."
You feign hurt like the liar you are, pressing a hand over your heart as if guarded. "So mean, Itoshi-san," you scold. "Watch your mouth before I throw you on the couch," you warn, inching away.
"Last name basis?" he teases with guile, closing the new distance you created. "You're going to be an Itoshi someday, too," he reminds, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
The warmth of it sends a lick of heat creeping up your spine. You tell him to shut up, maintaining feigned annoyance for a good minute. Twenty seconds after that you're melting into him again, falling victim to his spell. He squeezes your thigh and you frown.
"You suck."
He laughs. "I know, baby."
"And you're mean."
This, he clicks his tongue at. His eyes crinkle at their corners and he lets out a noise of dissent. He wouldn't call himself the beau ideal of a lover, per se — then again, no one would — but for all his imperfections, his actions make up for the lack of honesty he can't seem to put into words.
"You're the mean one."
He doesn't struggle, dragging your weight to drape you across his chest. Your thighs cage the sides of his own in the blink of an eye and you can't help letting out a gasp at the suddenness of it all. This contact. Where you press against. Where he allows you to.
A millimeter of distance occupies the gap separating you and him; you still, unsure whether you can move, or even breathe.
He thinks it's cute, your hesitation. On the other hand, it can be annoying at times, how shy you are. How you always feel the need to hold back. To ask, when he's always been willing to give you anything. Anything. Even his last name.
It's offensive how you have yet to see it.
"Look at me," he says.
Wordless, you obey.
He cradles your head in his hands, swiping his fingers along the length of your jaw and reveling in the way you shudder at his touch.
"I told you last time—" he whispers. Still, it remains as sharp as a reminder, one he prays will stick "—you don't need to ask."
It's delicate, this line he treads. He has always been one for taking, after all. Never giving. And often, he is wary just how much generosity he can offer before it turns into some sort of weakness. But when he kisses you and you reciprocate in kind, if not with more desire, he understands why Caesar surrendered himself into the hands of Cleopatra, understands why Antony devoted himself to that love, too.
Maybe it's a horrible analogy, and maybe he's got his facts wrong — he doesn't know much about history, doesn't care enough to, either — but if you can learn to take, and he can learn to give, maybe one day he can learn to be a suave romantic.
But for now, he's content with interrupted giggles and pleads to resurface for air.
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seravphs ¡ 2 years ago
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ITOSHI SAE x FEM READER
Sae might have rethought putting a ring on your finger if he knew husband duties included losing sleep to your overactive imagination. 
wc — 500
tags — married au 
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“Can you stop squirming?” 
Sae’s annoyed with you, but you can’t help it. You’re not normally afraid of the dark, but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. 
Around you, the night stretches on like a kitten, soft and velvet. Your eyes have long adjusted to the dark, but your room is poorly designed. Inky shadows collect in every corner, crated by awkwardly shaped shelves and random divots in the wall. 
Like any normal, well-adjusted adult, you have no problem being in darkness. Just a few hours before, you ran a load of laundry without turning the lights on because you didn’t feel like it. But as you’re trying to fall asleep, your idle mind grows restless. 
It starts whispering the kinds of things that make you pull your feet away from the edge of the bed and shrink towards Sae’s comforting, warm body. 
“If you keep this up, I’m going to get my own bedroom,” he tells you. 
You both know it’s an empty threat. How could it not be when you wake up to his arms around you every morning? 
Still, it’s not nice of him to say that, and you let him know. 
“Don’t be mean, I’m scared!” Your grumbling is childish, but there are certain indulgences you’re allowed. 
“You’re too old for this,” he sighs, exasperated, but he lifts his arm so you can tuck in closer along his body. 
Just then, you feel something brush along your leg. You barely stifle a shriek as you forcefully push your body into Sae’s. It’s a hard collision that would knock the breath out of him if he wasn’t a professional soccer player. As it is, he makes a sound of discomfort when your elbow bumps into him. 
Up until now, you’ve been facing outwards, keeping an eye out for anything that might roam in the dark. At this moment, you peek out from under your covers, turning to look at Sae.
His face is entirely unamused. 
You try for a sweet smile, hoping he’ll relent and forgive you as he usually does. To his credit, he only cracks after he forces you to endure a prolonged, awkward stare-off. Then he groans, pinches his nose, and bodily drags you closer so you’re all but on top of him. 
Your head rests against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, tucking you into the line of his body. Your legs tangle with his. 
“That better?” He says. “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here.” 
“Now that you mention it,” you say jokingly, “you are a big, strong football player.” 
A peek at his face reveals what you already suspected. Sae’s cool exterior is hard to crack, but he’s always weak to compliments from his wife. He’s fighting a smile that’s apparent anyway, or perhaps you’re just good at reading him. 
“But you’ve trapped my legs,” you complain. “How am I going to run away if anything happens?” 
“Oh my god-“ Sae shoves a hand over your mouth and muffles any further commentary. “Go to sleep.”
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kaiser1ns ¡ 1 month ago
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Itoshi Sae rolled his eyes as he saw Michael Kaiser flirting and trying to be more touchy with you—twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, holding eye contact just a bit longer than usual, leaning slightly towards when you speak, typing something on your phone.
“Oh, so do you like centre-forwards?” he’d ask looking back at Sae, smirking, and the Japanese player was never more annoyed. Kaiser's gaze returned to you and as you opened your mouth to say something, someone else grabbed your hand, fingers interlaced with yours, leading you away from the cocky striker.
“Sorry,” you said, looking over your shoulder at the blonde man with a teasing smile. “I’m more into midfielders.”
Kaiser's smirk faltered for the first time, clearly taken aback. He watched you blow him a playful kiss, stunned as he realized you'd been using him to get a reaction out of Sae this whole time. Clearly, he was not used to being played with like this or at all. This was a game he hadn’t expected to lose, but it’s not game over yet.
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Š2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
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lumiambrose ¡ 2 months ago
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Sae Itoshi never strays from his morning routine.
From opening the window to his morning kombucha, it’s always the same. That is, until you came around.
Golden sunlight filters through the curtains as Sae shifts awake. His body clock wakes him up relatively early, so he’s not surprised to find you still fast asleep, nestled gently in his arms.
He takes in your slumbering form—the way your chest rises and falls softly, your hair messy, and your arm resting ever so lightly holding his own. You’re perfect, he thinks to himself. His beautiful lover, lost in the land of dreams, all for his eyes to take in.
Although he doesn’t allow himself to linger any longer. The grasp you once held on his arm slowly loosens as he wriggles out of your hold, gently to not disturb you.
It pains him to see you cling aimlessly to the air instead of him, but he has a busy day ahead of him and can’t afford to waste time.
That is, until he hears a faint whimper from across the room. To his dismay, he instantly recognises the sound. Putting his clothes down and turning around only to find your slumbering figure writhing slightly, letting out small sounds of discontent.
He curses himself inwardly. Putting you in such a painful situation makes his heart clench. Is he really that heartless? Not for you. He vowed to never make you sad, awake, or asleep.
“Mierda, amor,” he murmurs, slipping off the clothes he’d just put on before quietly sliding back into his spot beside you. Pulling your restless body into a warm embrace, one that assures him that he made the right decision.
“I’m sorry, angel. Didn’t know you’d be that restless without me.” He whispers, tracing soft patterns on your arm. “I’ll stay as long as you need me here.” He places a soft kiss on the back of your head, allowing himself to fall back into slumber for the first time he can remember.
All because of you.
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©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
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retroaria ¡ 1 month ago
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✮⋆˙ itoshi sae
~ how he'd be after a break up :(
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⸝⸝ written for aria's 1.5k follower event! ‧₊˚✩彡
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⸝⸝ i don’t see sae as being a cheater or a bad partner in general so (not to be cliche but) the breakup would probably be because of him having a poor work/life balance and his career getting in the way.
⸝⸝ after the breakup he’d totally immerse himself in his career, kinda like subconscious avoidance of his feelings on the matter. you guys would go full no contact. eventually it would catch up to him and hit him like a truck.
⸝⸝ it would start with little things. he’d miss the smell of you on his sheets, he’d miss having your things in certain places: your shoes at his door, your food in the fridge, your clothes in his closet. he’d realize that it’s already been over a month since you’ve left and he still hasn’t taken your pictures off his night stand, or your shampoo bottle out of his shower.
⸝⸝ he'd find himself longing again for the home you guys had together. he misses the comfort of going to bed next to someone and waking up the next morning, knowing you're still there next to him before he even opens his eyes.
⸝⸝ he ponders on what he had taken for granted. the lunches you'd make for him, your face in the stands during his practice and games. sae had been alone for so long before you, he never thought he'd find himself hating it if ever you were to leave - but here he is, grasping so desperately to mere remnants of you.
⸝⸝ he'd take it out on himself. he could've put in the effort to better balance his life, the only two things he's ever loved are you and soccer, surely it couldn't have been that hard to keep both successfully. he chalks it up to another of his short comings.
⸝⸝ on a select few nights he finds himself hovering over your contact in his phone, wondering what he would say to you, what you would say to him, if any of it would matter or give him any form of closure.
⸝⸝ he allows himself to yearn and experience the sadness of the situation once it truly dawns upon him, but no matter what he has sworn to not beg you to take him back.
⸝⸝ decides that if your paths are meant to cross again, then they will. he cares for you and wouldn't want to put you through the turmoil of being strung along his hectic life again, especially not after he chose to leave you. he believes you deserve better than that.
⸝⸝ sae didn't meet you while specifically looking for a partner, and he doesnt intend to try making his way into the dating scene after you.
⸝⸝ if you two were to see each other by chance after the breakup, he would be respectful about it. he'd let you lead the conversation, knowing he'd have a hard time not bringing up the separation, or how much he's missed you.
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saerins ¡ 2 months ago
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birthday wish;
itoshi sae x female reader. wc 2.4k
content: fluff. some profanity. slight making out. birthday fic for sae <3
summary: it’s itoshi sae’s birthday. the world hates you. you’ve never been a lucky one. being “shit out of luck” is the only thing you know. the tables must turn.
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if higher beings do exist, they really must hate you. they must. you can’t fathom your bad luck otherwise.
not only did your cab to the airport run into an hour long jam, your connecting flight also got delayed and now you’re running a day late.
all you get to see is the group chat blowing up, people sending pictures of others, of each of their antics. there’s a photo of everyone together except you.
because your business trip is a pain in the ass.
because it made you miss a weekend getaway with your friends in hokkaido.
because even when they made the effort to convince the birthday boy to make a little side trip back to tokyo, you’re still too late for that.
if it was anyone else, you’d have been fine with it. as much as you feel guilty about that.
but it’s sae. it’s itoshi fucking sae and you can’t even remember the last time you saw him in person because everyone else’s schedules match except yours. the world has driven a constant wedge between you and sae and you hate it.
is there any other emotion to be reserved when that happens to you and a boy you’ve had a crush on since forever?
meeting itoshi sae as a kid was exciting, hopeful. falling for itoshi sae when he was a teen leaving japan for opportunities elsewhere was giddying. sometimes you can’t believe that someone you know is that successful, and other times you hate the fact that he’s so far away because of it.
more than half the time, he’s in spain. he’s never where you are at least ninety-nine percent of the time. the one occasion he was, which was three years ago over new year’s, you were fucking sick.
and all he sent you was a text telling you to get better while the rest of your group of friends get to hang out with him.
though, you suppose that’s a good thing. he barely ever texts anyway, and you don’t initiate, if only out of fear for getting in his way. (as if small speech bubbles could get in his way at all.)
you sigh helplessly as you reach the immigration hall, even more irritated as you look at the time. already past midnight, sae’s flight would’ve already left by now—or, actually, an hour ago because he doesn’t have your bad luck—so you don’t even have the chance of bumping into him at the airport.
whoopee.
your phone finds itself tossed into your duffel bag at your irritation. unwarranted but it is what it is. by the time you finally get your luggage and exit, you’re exhausted. from the disappointment, the delays, everything.
it’s only when you walk a couple more steps, lugging your things behind you when you stop in your tracks, your boots suddenly feel like they’re one with the marble below them.
“didn’t think your luck could get any worse.”
is it possible for your heart to feel like it isn’t functioning properly after hearing a voice? a voice that you haven’t heard physically for who knows how long now?
you have to take a deep breath to even get his name out. “sae…?”
his brows furrow before he cocks one, sighing as he propels himself forward from against the railing, hands in his jacket pocket as he takes a few steps towards you. his face is hidden behind a black mask, his hood pulled over his head but you can still see the clear piercing teal of his eyes and the same nonchalant expression he always wears in his interviews.
you’ve seen a bunch of them.
“who else would i be?” he sighs again, like he’s exasperated, before he grabs the luggage handle from you and starts tugging it behind him.
it occurs to you seconds later that he expects you to follow him when he doesn’t even turn behind.
“wait wait.” you nearly trip over your own feet as you scramble to catch up to him, feeling out of shape the moment you fall into step beside him. “didn’t you have a flight to spain, like, an hour ago?”
you couldn’t have gotten the timing wrong because you triple checked it in the group chat.
sae makes a confused noice in his throat before shrugging. “pushed it a day later.”
he doesn’t elaborate. like he always does. or doesn’t.
“but why? don’t you have training right after you land? or, when you were supposed to land?”
his body brushes your side when he sidesteps someone on his right. you’re ashamed of how your heart skips a beat.
“i have training the day after. i just wanted to get a day to nurse my jet lag if i could. i could still make training if i leave tomorrow.”
he’s always to the point. but he’s intentionally evading a part of your question.
“but why—”
“i’m hungry. you hungry?” he asks, and you can only blink. you can’t even say anything before your stomach growls and answers for you and sae doesn’t have to wait for your response.
he holds your luggage with his right, and his left hand reaches out for you, warmth enveloping as he tugs you beside him into the nearest izakaya, swiftly getting a table for two in the privacy of their special corner table and all he had to do was remove his mask.
“it’s a little late but… happy birthday,” you whisper to him across the table.
sae’s gaze flicks over to you, blank expression as he just stares at you for a moment. “no it’s not,” he says, and upon your confused expression continues, “i got your text.”
right, because you used the shitty in-flight wifi to try and get your message to him. looks like it worked.
“oh, good then,” you heave a sigh of relief as you let yourself relax, subtly slinking lower against the booth.
over supper, sae purposely asks you questions, about your work, your days, life in general, overloading you with them so you don’t even have a chance to ask him anything thus far.
neither of you even realise that it’s not a 24-hour place, but it’s not a surprise that being itoshi sae has its privileges. before long, the only customers are you and the boy you like and your impatience that puts its foot down and bites the bait.
“why did you push your flight back, sae?”
his bowl is long cleared and all he has to busy himself with is the hot ocha on his side. he looks out the window for a moment, as if contemplating something before he spots the waiter and asks for the bill.
another attempt at shaking the question off that won’t earn him any points because the moment you step out of the airport and into the chilly air outside, you question him again.
“sae, tell me.”
sae takes a deep breath, and you can see the bare hint of a flush in his cheeks. it’s not that obvious, but you can see it.
he finally lets up for the first time tonight, the life granting a glint in his eyes. he chuckles, and he shakes his head, though his smile is subtle—just barely visible.
“you’re still as irritating as when you were a kid, you know?” he remarks, and you find yourself crossing your arms before he finally relents.
after a small pause, he takes a step towards you, his body barely inches from yours. he leans down to your ears, with a voice that’s barely a whisper, “i wanted my birthday wish to come true.”
this isn’t fair, itoshi sae.
“and what’s that?” you ask because he’s still there, his neck right next to your lips and sucking the energy out of you because it’s always nerve-wracking being near him even if you’ve known him most of your life. l
“i wanted…” he pauses, hesitant to say, “to see you. in person.”
and he finally straightens back up, giving you room to breathe.
is it greedy of you to not be satisfied? you feel like this could be a fever dream. are you sick?
“why?” you ask again, and you find yourself trailing after him when he refuses to answer.
sae flags down a cab, telling him your address, word for word correctly and it doesn’t register to you that despite never having been there, he remembers it like the curve of the soccer ball, like the arc of his passes.
nothing is ever too much effort if it’s worth it.
you’ve just never thought you were ever in sae’s head.
by the time you reach your apartment, the both of you are shriveling in awkwardness, too stubborn and stupid for too long that you’re too used to it.
“this one, right?” sae asks when he gets to your unit, the one in the corner of the top floor.
you nod weakly, and sae purses his lips before he pushes the luggage towards you.
“get some rest. you must be tired,” is all he tells you before he starts to make a move, heading back towards the elevator.
but you’re sick of it. sick of the chances you never take and sick of how you’re too scared to even try. your fingers reach out to grab the hem of his jacket sleeve, holding him back.
“i wanted to see you too,” you declare, even if he never asked. you get greeted by the sight of his widening eyes, by the slight upward tug of his lips. “you’re never free when i am and i just—fuck—i hate it. and you’re so accomplished and i’m happy for you, really, but i… i miss you.”
(sae looks at you, looking at the floor, looking guilty as if saying you miss someone is a sin. he feels the way his heart aches in his chest—fuck, did he really miss you this much too?
he’s used to having the upper hand, always having you squirm in embarrassment, but why does he feel like it’s slipping with every instance he’s about to tell you how he really feels about you? why is it slipping every single time he sees you smile? in your photos, your stories, even the emojis you send in your fucking texts.)
“yeah, missed me that much?” he asks, teasing you a little as he sees your feet shift nervously.
what you do next catches him completely off-guard, his eyes snapping shut the moment you grab his jacket lapel, pulling him close and kissing him, tasting so sweet he would be tempted to ask you to do that all night.
by the time you pull away, sae isn’t ready. he’s not ready anymore. to leave you. not so soon. you’ve always been one of the few reasons he couldn’t bear to leave japan and not seeing you all this time has helped him tolerate it. now that you’re here, in the flesh, his fingers digging into your hips, he doesn’t think he can leave.
“you- um- what time’s your flight tomorrow?” you ask, breathless when you finally manage to pull away.
sae groans, shaking his head. “don’t wanna talk about that, doesn’t matter it’s fine, i’ll make it,” he mutters, eyes shutting close again because the next second he’s chasing your lips, swallowing your chuckles as you stumble to open your apartment door.
he makes the effort to kick your luggage inside before he feels his back hitting the back of the door, eyes flying open and being greeted with a smirk on your face.
so you have this kind of side to you too.
sae smiles a little wider now, shaking his head when you wrap your arms around his neck, jumping up with your legs around his waist as you drown him in kisses that would probably last him at most a few days.
“sorry, i know this is more than you wished for,” you laugh weakly in between kisses.
sae shakes his head. “i don’t mind a bonus,” he jokes, and you hit him playfully on the chest.
it’s a little surreal to you that the boy you’ve had a crush on for half your life is actually reciprocating. you’ve watched him play pro-soccer since he was a teen until now, when you’re both full-fledged adults. you’ve never thought that anything would work out. not when you’re just barely navigating through life while he has his whole career figured out.
not when you’re always shit out of luck. but if this is the kind of luck that you get, you’ll take it.
“i… i’ve always liked you, itoshi sae,” you confess, foreheads pressed against one another’s as he continues to hold you in his arms, stronger than you remember.
a low hum leaves his throat. “i know, rin told me the first time i came back to japan from spain.”
you might actually kill rin.
(sae bites back a chuckle. he never thought of it much at all back then. he barely cared for anything except soccer. he can’t even remember when he started to think of you more. miss you. wish to see you on birthdays, on new year eves, on new years, christmases, whatever occasions there are in a year.)
“i think i might love you,” he confesses, and it takes your breath away.
you can only blink, slowly letting it sink in. you get down off his arms, both of you locking gazes and never looking away.
“think you could do that from halfway across the world too?” you ask.
it dawns on him what you’re afraid of, but after years of pining for you, sae has no doubt in his head.
“think i could do that forever, no matter where we are,” sae assures you, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “could you grant me one more wish?”
you swallow the lump in your throat. “what is it?”
“be mine.”
and this is his birthday (it’s still not 11 october in other parts of the world!) but you feel like it’s your lucky day.
“i think i’ve always been yours, itoshi sae.”
and for the first time since you’ve known him, you see him smile. wider than you’ve ever seen. you finally see the path clearing, you can finally tell, somehow—itoshi sae will be yours for life.
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rinnstars ¡ 1 month ago
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good luck charm!
things they do before a (winning) match
bllk boys x reader (reo, rin, sae): fluff, drabbles, pro!player, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!
reo mikage:
reo’s always thought of superstitions stupid: the way his parents ask fortune tellers about specific dates and time for certain events from business investment to even when to host meetings, the way his friends would follow superstitions told by their parents from crossing their fingers before receiving their results to avoiding cracks at the pathways in school, the way he recluntantly follow them because its “tradition”. but maybe he’s no different from them, he thinks. its the big match: one that will decide whether he’ll prove his father wrong - the world cup finale. he’s anxious: his hands are all sweaty and shaky as he puts down his water bottle, water still dripping from it from the mouth of it, his heart is beating the fastest its ever had as though he’s about to have a heart attack, and his mind is hazy with self-deprecating thoughts that practically chain him to the seats. he closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, he has only a few more minutes left before he has to get on field, a few more minutes before he either makes it and becomes a professional footballer or break it and be enchained to his family company for the rest of his life.
superstition. good luck charms. reo’s getting desperate, he’ll take whatever at this point. whether its removing that polaroid of you from the back of his phone to trace with his shaky fingers and press his lips against, or placing the cold matching necklace with you against his palm to cool his nerve down to focus onto the freezing sensation over the beating o his heart, or even taking your spare candies from his bag to chew on one or two. and he’ll let the sweetness burst in his mouth: ignore the drying of his mouth as he walks out on field, ignore shakiness of his entire being, ignore his heart failing him.
and when reo kicks the last goal, his eyes instantly search for yours in the crowd of people, recognising you within a few seconds amongst the millions cheering. and he thinks: you might just be his guardian angel, after all its with you that hes able to win. and perhaps, that cold necklace might calm him down more if it was a ring on his fingers, he gets real fidgetive before a match after all.
itoshi rin
in contrast to what others think, rin’s a nervous wreck before a match, especially one where hes now competing against his brother: no longer part of blue lock, but in a team, on the global stage. hes insecure, he knows he’ll never compare to sae, hes aware of that since he was a little kid he thinks by the countless of golden awards that people credit sae for rather him, countless of opportunities only given to sae and never to him. and his usual routine is thrown out of the window: he cant just rely on just motivsting himself to perform by thinking of those burning feelings im his chest, cant just rely on pure instincts he thinks as his legs turn into jelly, cant rely on himself solely. its not the first time either he feels like this: in his first match thst he won the night sae came back home for the first time, in his match at blue lock against u20 japan team, and now in his match against real madrid in the world cup finale. proving sae wrong: thats what hes been working on for the entirety of his teensge life, but for once, hes not so certain anymore. rin feels like a little kid, he feels lost, and he could run away: the door has always been open, and its not as though sae hasnt cursed him to this.
and rin’s spiralling again, the ring of his braclet that he bought with you the day before he first ever entered blue lock brings him back to reality: sitting on the bench in the locker room all alone when his other teammates are all chatting amongst themself a little further away from him. rin should go soon, he looks up at the clock, a few more minutes before showtime. and as always, like clockwork, he opens his phone and plays his favourite voice memo: one where you simply wish him good luck, telling him you believe he’ll win in that same cheery tune that he misses.
and when rin kicks the final goal, the world stops. silence, before the chant of the crowd overwhelms his ears and his teammate throw him on his shoulders: he made it. and yet, for the first time, instead of looking at his brother for validation, for his praise, for his reassurance: he finds you in the crowd and all he can think is now hoping you can rerecord that good luck message, maybe a video this time. after all, if your voice recording can help him to score two goals, he might just ace his next match with a personalised video from you: but for now, he’ll dedicate this win to you with a kiss to yours and his necklace.
itoshi sae
its just another match for sae: and yet he feels totally drained out compared to usual. no doubt, he’s lost his spark and passion that he used to hold on to tightly when he was a teenager, and he’s been playing simply for the sake of it. and maybe its tthe back to back matches that weighs him down like stones, or maybe its homesickness, missing everything he wants to chase back now that hes all grown, or maybe its simply the usual nervousness before a match. deep down, depsite his ambitions, hes insecure: hes no genius, he knows, it was a bitter revelation he finds out when he leaves, crying silently in the bathroom with no one around him but geniuses, and maybe it lingers in him: that hes never truly accepted his mediocrity. yet, he knows every and any match matters: he should get up now, join his teammates in those cheers, or at least get himself ready for the match starting in a few minutes instead of wallowing in his own misery, hogging the seats in the locker room. hes got all his usual routine done too: wearing the socks you bought him when he first came back from spain, stretched the way he was taught to, drank the water he needed to in the cute little water bottle he matches with you — but hes still missing something.
sae thinks its silly, he only does this ritual whenever its a big match, and this match is nothing special. logically, the opponents are much weaker and even at his current state, he’ll likely win them still. but he supposes he can indulge a little, after all its almost 6 months since hes seen you: with the season having started at the start of your internship. a minute before the match begins, and he hurriedly presses yours and his promise necklace onto his forehead as though a prayer and he walks with his teammates onto the field.
and when sae assists in the final goal, he smiles unconsciously in contrast to his usual self: he wonders if youre watching and he knows the answer when he opens his phone and sees you send a photo of news article speculating of his and yours promise necklace debut to the football world. he looks at the date, one more week, one more match until he gets to see you again — he cant wait already, but maybe while hes here in spain, maybe he should get you something special.
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