#itoshi sae fluff

[saerins]

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.

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

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.

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.

[emmyrosee]

emmy i’m begging (on my knees, in front of my emmy rose shrine) for sae fluff 🙏🏻

Itoshi Sae is by far the most blunt person you’ve ever met.

Granted, he has his moments where he’s a bit more playful, more “human,” as you like to tease him, but for the most part, Itoshi Sae has no qualms busting out the most blunt, out of the blue phrases that come to his mind.

You’ve called him a blabbermouth before. He merely shrugs and says his opinion is the only important one, other than yours, and the universe deserves to hear his unfiltered thoughts.

But even now, as you’re folding his practice clothes for the week, you feel his presence down the hallway, as if he’s stewing in his thoughts. You’d been having a tough day, not in the mood for anything he’d have to bluntly blurt out, and in your search for peace, you decide against searching him out until you’re done. You’ll bother him for cuddles after folding his clothes, hoping to feel better after accomplishing the task.

Footsteps stalk down the hallway and you sigh softly before continuing to fold.

“You know that we can get people for that,” he says, blunt as ever. “You don’t have to fold my underwear, just say the word and we’ll find someone.”

You shrug, “I like folding your underwear,” you confess. “It makes me feel better.”

“To fold my drawers?”

“To take care of you,” you correct. “It gives me something I can do for you. Something that makes me feel good for doing. Just like cooking you a hot meal after practice or vacuuming the rugs on weekends.”

Sae pauses, letting you continue as he lowers his eyes in thought, and you’re bracing yourself for the small fight you’re about to endure in an attempt to try and not convince Sae to hire someone to take care of everything you just mentioned.

“You know,” he says softly, leaning against the doorway and looking you up and down, and you brace yourself for the words that are about to be thrown your way.

“I’m grateful for you. Thank you for letting me into your life, for taking care of me regardless of how much I feel like I don’t deserve it, and thank you for loving me.”

“Huh?”

Your cheeks blaze in a heat as your eyes widen at him, butterflies in your stomach suddenly distrusting and fluttering around wildly. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs, “I love you. I love that you take care of myself and others, and you do it with grace. You’re wonderful, you’re kind, and I’m grateful you let me in your life to also be taken care of and loved by you.”

“Sae, what the hell?” You groan, hands coming up to cover your face firmly pressing your eyes to try and dull the throbbing in your head that’s brewing from your embarrassment for his words. “You can’t just say that.”

You practically hear him smirking in satisfaction, “why not? Am I not allowed to tell you how great you’re doing, how much I love you?”

“No!” You whine, and before you know it, two big arms are wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you in for a big hug. “You’re so weird about it!” You smell his cologne, something expensive that he splurges on, but something that will always be Sae’s scent of choice, and you take deep inhales of the scent to try and ground yourself from his ridiculous and out of pocket phrases.

His body is warm as he embraces you, cradling you close and letting you huff about how dumb he is and how much you hate him and his weirdo tendencies. “Just be normal about it, tell me you love me and leave it out that? Freak.”

“I’m a freak?” He snickers.

“Yes,” you grumble.

“Maybe im not a freak,” he begins, pressing a kiss to your head. “Maybe you just need to hear it more.”

“Please no.”

“Loving you is the best decision I’ve ever made, and it was only made possible with your patience with me.”

“Sae, please.”

“Thank you for loving me.”

You angle your head to blink up at him, and he gently cups your cheek in his big hand, thumb stroking over the swells. You sigh through your nose, “thank you for letting me love you.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you before pulling you back in for a hug. “Guess we can be grateful for each other.”

“I guess so,” you say, smiling into his chest.

“Tomorrow I’m going to tell you how proud I am of you, so be ready for that.”

“Please don’t.”

[inloveinsickness]

❝ SHE’S THE TEAR IN MY HEART ❞ — itoshi sae

tags: smau shot, f!reader, established relationship, fluff, slight crack, pet names, implied engagement in one of them, extremely self indulgent and selfship coded i’m sorry </3 he makes me sick i love him sm — ignore timestamps

boyfriend texts with sae

masterlist

taglist. open (link to form) @saucejar @vellicrose @returntothefae @daisy-room @stellar-headquarters

@whatisnureotypical @haruhi269 @ayatakanosstuff @cyxjz @irethepotato

@mwezieclipze

© inloveinsickness. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[mreowsu]

I'd like to think that you and sae would have the most atrocious digital footprint

summary · you're fifteen and chronically online. sae's fifteen and annoying. together, you're a PR team's worst nightmare.

series masterlist

you have exactly seven drafts saved on tiktok. six are you dancing. one is sae telling you to shut up.

“can you not,” he mutters, turning his face away from your phone. you’re filming him, of course. again.

“the people need to know the real you.”

“no one needs to see me brushing my teeth.”

you zoom in closer. “he’s camera shy.”

he flips you off with the toothbrush still in his mouth.

you cackle, tapping save to drafts like it’s muscle memory. it is. you’ve been doing this since the dorms started assigning roommates. and even though you technically aren’t rooming with him, you still manage to worm your way into every piece of content that’ll get you both publicly humiliated someday.

not that you care.

you set the phone down on the counter, careful lest sae splash it with tap water, plop on the closed lid of the toilet seat, and lean your elbows on your knees. “we’re gomna be international one day.”

sae snorts.

“no, really,” you insist. “and when that happens, our managers are gonna comb through every post, every comment, every digital crumb of personality we’ve ever left online and regret ever signing us.”

he spits into the sink and pats his mouth dry meticulously, vaguely amused. “you mean they’re gonna regret signing you. i’m normal.”

“sae,” you deadpan, “you started a twitter war with a fan account because they said jude bellingham was better than you.”

“they were wrong.”

you stare at him. “they were twelve.”

“wrong,” he repeats, tone final.

you’re too tired to argue, so you snatch the phone beside yours on the sink and open his barely-used tiktok account. well. barely-used by him. you made it when he refused to download tiktok and you wanted to piss him off.

he squints. “why do i have a video?”

you turn the screen to show him the lone post: a blurry mess of you running, the microphone catching nothing but wind and your wheeze-laughs. in the background, sae sprinted after you, blur of red hair and fury.

amidst the rush of air catching, your voices managed to still be distinctly heard.

“give. it. back!”

“say you love me first!” your shriek echoed through the speaker.

he groans. “delete it.”

you throw him a convicted smile. “no.”

— — —

you don’t get to keep them all.

a year or two later, just as your names start making headlines, your PR manager politely asks—read: forces—you to delete everything. your posts, his posts, your shared posts, even the cute ones where you and him were just innocently trying funny filters.

you used to joke that if either of you ever made it big, your teenage digital footprints would be your downfall.

you were half-right.

your pages were a goldmine of post 2016 cringe. you’d hop on every trend like it was the last oxygen tank on earth—heart-beat-beat-beat dances, slow-mo transitions, and god-awful povs that somehow always featured you looking out a rainy window mouthing “you said you’d never leave…”

sae with his twitter wars, unprovoked beef with strangers about him vs jude bellingham: who's more handsome??? anime opinions, and once, an argument about whether mint chocolate ice cream deserved rights.

they all got wiped up.

both your socials? nuked.

tiktoks: gone.

twitter: locked, deactivated, incinerated.

instagram? scrubbed.

except… they missed one.

sae’s old instagram account that's just floating in the void, quietly haunting the web while the polished, verified one gets all the attention.

it's completely bare, no posts, no profile picture, and a simple username. one might even think it was a spam, random, fan account—unless they did a double take, because just right below the cut was a highlight. just one. titled with a single white heart emoji. you werent sure if you were the one that placed that. you didn’t even know it was there.

it was a photo from your dorm days in madrid. sae still looked boyish then, still had that awkward teenage charm that clung to him in the tail-end of puberty. and you were just as young, just as wide-eyed. he still wore those stupid blunt bangs that refused to grow out no matter how many times he tried. but what caught everyone, even you off guard was the picture itself: sae pressing a kiss to your cheek, and you frozen in an over exaggerated, comical shock—one hand covering your parted lips like a silent film actress. no context. no caption. no explanation.

the internet lost its mind.

the account got unearthed after someone on football twitter went, “wait… did itoshi sae have an old IG?”

the tiktok posts came next.

“he was soft once. ONCE.”

“idk what’s worse, the highlight or the 2016 vibrance filter.”

“someone tell BOTH their PR teams tht account exists.”

“NO WAY SHE USED TO DO TIKTOK POVS AND HE DATED HER ANYWAY.”

you got a text from sae at the crack of dawn, since a handful of your fans were a bit more prominent internationally:

(3:09 AM) sassy man: did you forget to delete my old account?

(3:09 AM) fine shift: did you forget you kissed me on camera and let it live in a highlight captioned with a 🤍

(3:09 AM) fine shift: you're so sappy, sae

read (3:11 AM)

typical. he left you on read. (and you knew he was pacing around the hotel room muttering “shit.”)

but the damage was done. “sae itoshi’s secret soft era” became the fandom’s latest obsession.

you were mortified. but somewhere, deep down—beneath the grown-up layers, the career polish—you were kind of glad. because no matter how far you both got from who you were back then, that little ghost of your digital past still lived on.

and it was kind of nice, being remembered like that:)

[wingeddestinypanda]

in health and sickness - itoshi sae x sick!reader

"Mom," The rare sound of Sae’s voice in the Itoshi family kitchen startled Mrs. Itoshi, who was busy organizing the pantry. He wasn’t usually one to linger around at home or chat unnecessarily, so when he walked in and cleared his throat, she turned with mild surprise.

Sae was leaning against the counter, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yes, Sae?” she replied with a gentle smile, minds spiralling on the possibilities of what could his eldest son needed

“Do you still have that soup recipe you used to make when Rin and I got sick?” He avoided her gaze, his tone casual but the slight furrow of his brow betraying his concern.

Mrs. Itoshi raised an eyebrow, now thoroughly intrigued. “The chicken and vegetable one? With ginger and garlic?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that one. Can you... make it today? Or I don't know, write it down?”

Her expression softened with realization. “Is someone sick?”

Sae hesitated, then sighed. “Y/N's not feeling well,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I think it’d help.”

Mrs. Itoshi felt a rush of affection for her eldest son, who had always been distant but showed his care in the most understated ways.

“Of course,” she said warmly, already moving to grab ingredients from the fridge. “I’ll make it fresh for you so you can bring it to her when it’s done”

Sae nodded curtly. “Thanks,” he muttered, retreating to the living room to avoid further conversation.

Later, as the comforting aroma of the soup filled the house, Mrs. Itoshi handed him a neatly packed container with a knowing smile. “Tell her to drink this while it’s hot. And remind her to rest.”

Sae took the container, his usual indifferent expression softening just slightly. “I will.”

Mrs. Itoshi watched him leave with a fond smile, shaking her head. “For someone so stoic, he really wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to her.”

[itoshhi]

𝜗𝜚 itoshi sae | sweet coffee after break up

❕fluff, sfw. ex, regret bf!sae.

when you open the door, the first thing you think is, i wish i had tied my hair up. ridiculous.

it’s been two months, and you’re still trying to look presentable in front of sae. it’s like you haven’t slept at all.

because the last time you spoke to him, your voice had trembled. you were hurt, you had swallowed your pride. you said, “stay.” and he had left without saying anything. that’s why you had never expected him to come back.

but right now, when you haven’t even entered the house, he just looks at you for a moment and says, “can we talk?” his tone is familiar, calm, considered.

but there’s none of that sharpness you’re used to. this time, he’s tired.

you don’t answer, just step aside. when he realize you’ve let him pass, he quietly enters.

─────═━┈┈━═─────

the house… was still full of his things, none of which you had the courage to throw away. the cup he drank coffee with is still at the back of the cupboard, his favorite gray and cold blanket is still in the corner of the couch.

he sits with his hands in his pockets, bowing his head, still silent. you stand there waiting. because you are still unsure of what to do. but he finally starts talking, just when you think everything is over.

“i felt like i had to go,” he says. “as if i would have hurt you more if i stayed. and i guess i’ve already hurt you a lot.”

your eyes fill with tears, this sentence was the sentence you wanted to hear months ago. if he had told you months ago that he was not leaving of his own free will, you would have tried harder to stop him. even though you think it is too late to think about these things right now.

“i realized something,” he says, his eyes clouded but his voice unchanging. “i’m too late to change that, but maybe I didn’t deserve you.”

he raises his head to look at you. his eyes are tired but clear, as if he will not run away this time and as long as you do not silence him, he will tell you clearly.

“i never showed you how much i loved you.”

shut up, you thought. shut up and don't make me dependent on you again.

“until irealized that i had truly lost you, love was a difficult thing for me. i learned that the difficulty of loving without you was easy, but the weight of losing was something else. “

he doesn’t approach you. he doesn’t try to hug you. he doesn’t kneel down to apologize.

beachsw this is sae. always distant, always plain. but this time… he’s being very open about every piece of himself that he can’t feel or make others feel.

“one morning i woke up and tried to collect the things you left in my closet.

“i don’t know, but my hand always went back. the idea of ​​everything being with you felt much safer than nothingness. that’s when i realized,” he says.

“i never forgot you.”

you swallow. beacusw if you made a sound, you would cry. and you don’t want to cry.

it wasn’t about looking weak… it was about still being so soft towards him that bothered you.

“coming back to this house wasn’t easy for me. but what was even harder was the idea of ​​never being able to talk to you again.”

after a short silence, he takes a deep breath, puts his hands on his knees and stands up, but he doesn't walk to the door.

"i’m not someone who will tell you to come back. i’ve no right to tell you what to do. but... i’m here. and if one day, one morning, you want to share your breakfast with someone, or if you just want to sit quietly... i can learn to drink that coffee with sugar like you do this time."

he smiles slightly for the first time after saying that sentence. but that smile screams how incomplete he is inside. he stops for a moment as he walks to the door. and without turning around, sae leaves you one last sentence,

"you know my place."

the door closes. this time, you don't have to run after him. because now you know that he also left the door ajar to return.

─────═━┈┈━═─────

sae didn't like to express his feelings with words. but one day, he would realize that his heart was weakening to find what he had lost. and maybe silence would tell more than his apology.

he was drinking the sugary coffee he hated, right in front of you, longing for you so much that he didn’t care that you put sugar in his coffee.

© itoshhi 2025 {do not copy, translate, steal, modify without permission.}

[uzurakis]

BLUE LOCK REQ!! SOMETHING WITH SAE'S GF WEARING HIS JERSEYY?? THANKYOUU

“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.”

@uzurakis

[rindreamery]

to be loved is to be seen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

itoshi sae remembers the small details about your routine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

michael kaiser has all your subtle behaviors memorized.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oliver aiku is always willing to listen to you ramble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© rindreamery, 2024

[saeist]

“you’ve got an eyelash right… here”

sae visibly stiffens the moment your hand made contact with his face. he felt his insides turn into mush when your delicate fingers gingerly pluck off the stray eyelash on his cheeks.

“make a wish, sae-kun” you chirp, showing off the little stray eyelash on your fingertips.

almost as if it was reflex, sae rolls his eyes

“that’s just childish”

you could only pout at his cold and blunt response but you were used to it at this point

sae couldn’t pinpoint why he felt the feeling of regret the moment he saw you pout for a second.

“i’ll make a wish for you then” you shrug, placing said eyelash on the back of your hand, ultimately getting ready to blow and make a wish

“hold it” sae grabs your hand and blows it instead

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN GET TO MAKE A WISH!” you react, pouting once again since you already made a wish in behalf of sae— for him to achieve all his dreams

“i did” was all he says back, jabbing a finger at your forehead. sae walks away, probably going back to training but you don’t miss the faint smile he had on his face

[retroaria]

✮⋆˙ itoshi sae

~ how he'd be after a break up :(

⸝⸝ written for aria's 1.5k follower event! ‧₊˚✩彡

⸝⸝ 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.

[escapenightmare]

sae itoshi was not a nonchalant boyfriend or a chill guy, despite how much he tried to seem like he was. you don’t ask him for his opinion on your outfit? do you not want him (to compliment you and ask you to do a small twirl so he could see the ensemble properly and then pepper your cute face with kisses)? you don’t want him to share his food with you? okay, so basically you’re saying you want him to go to hell.

you tell him to quit liking flirty comments from random people under your posts? what’s wrong with that, he agrees with them— you’re absolutely stunning. and no, he isn’t doing it just so those randoms get a notification that saeitoshi, with a silly picture of you and him with your cheeks smushed together as his profile picture, has liked their comment so that they now know you aren’t single and looking for some sleazy jackass who thinks they can get your undivided attention just by commenting ‘🔥🔥’. seriously, how dare you accuse him of such pettiness?

but really, none of that is compareable to how he feels right now; damp hair sticking to his forehead, towel over his shoulder, one hand buttoning up his loose shirt while he’s looking at his phone, fresh out of the shower after the usual training. his teammates are yapping about something like they always do but it’s all silent in his head as he takes in what feels like utter blasphemy on the screen.

zero notifications.

well, actually, he had a shit ton of texts messages from his teammates and people he considered somewhat his friends but none of them really matter— only you do.

and you hadn’t texted him since yesterday (almost 24 hours ago!), when he was on his way home and asked you if you wanted him to bring you extra snacks or something.

do you hate him?

he clicked out of the messages app and checked instagram, where you’d usually have flooded his dms with chronically online shit that he had no idea how you found funny. seriously, what the heck is all that about divers going into small spaces and eye of dih? he visibly deflates when he sees you hadn’t sent anything on there either (the last text was from him, when he’d said ‘???’ to your text that read ‘what is a father?’).

Sae [16:43pm]: Do you hate me

nah. scoffing to himself, he deleted the words, exited the app and pocketted his phone. since when was he such an attention deprived, needy little shit? whatever.

by the time he opens the front door to your shared home, there’s still no text, no call, no reel, nothing from you. “angel?” he calls out in his usual, casual tone, nudging the door shut with his boot. “’m home.”

“in here, sae,” you call out from the bedroom and he quickly takes off his shoes, drops his duffel bag onto the couch and trudges into the bedroom, feeling as if if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging harshly behind him. “i was just about to text you.” you tell him with a small smile from where you’re sitting on the office chair behind the desk, your laptop in front of you and notes strewn all over the desk. you were.. studying.

ah, right. no wonder you hadn’t texted him.

you barely register his silent footsteps and fast pace until he’s right behind you within the time it took for you to blink, one hand on the arm of the chair to turn it around before he’s half hunched over you, his other hand pressing on your back to tug you into a hug. “missed you,” his voice is muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, the soft tufts of his moist hair tickling your chin and neck. “thought you hated me.”

“what?” it was said so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you do and now you’re pulling back a bit to look at him properly. “what gave you that idea?”

“forget about it,” he tries to avoid the question in a painfully untactful manner, attempting to hug you again, but faltering as he sees the look on your face. god, this was so humiliating. “y‘didn't text me today— or call, or send me stupid reels,” he points out with an embarrassed grunt, standing up to his full height and running a hand through his hair. “thought you were pissed at me for beating you in monopoly or something.”

huffing, you grin up at him. “you didn’t have to bring that up, jerk. but no, as you can see,” you gesture to your table and he notices the splotches and lines of dried ink on your fingers from your pen. “i’ve been studying. or trying to, at least.”

“huh.” he lets out, grasping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers before untangling them again so he could toy around with them. his brows furrow and he scoffs when you continue, saying something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you’d notice.’ “yeah, well, i noticed. i dunno. kinda hard to miss the zero texts from the only person i reply to, yeah?”

your eyes brighten at that, but you tease, “ohh, yeah, right. sorry, i forgot you’re a friendless loser.”

“look who’s talking,” he shoots back, and you’d almost be offended if it wasn’t for the playful look in his eyes. he sighs and dips his head to press a kiss to your temple before walking over to the closet.

“were you really sad that i didn’t send you stupid reels?” you ask him with a curious look while watching him pick out a random t-shirt and sweats, not making fun of him like you’d usually do, just genuine curiousity in your tone.

he hums in response, undoing a few buttons of his shirt before tugging it off his head and glancing at you, with his teal eyes narrowed in contemplation, shirt still hanging around his elbows. “guess so. ’s stupid, huh?”

“nah,” is your immediate reply, followed by a small shrug. “i think it’s sweet, actually. in a pathetic sort of way. you’re kinda sweet.”

during his 10-minute break from training the next day, he finds himself on the bench of the locker room, resting his aching legs with his half empty water bottle next to him as he’s scrolling through your dms with a soft smile. a shit ton of reels and one ‘good luck at practice!!’ message stares back at him.

yeah. he thinks you’re (kinda) sweet too.

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[emmyrosee]

“Just one more,” you mewl.

“Oh my god.”

Sae has to leave. It’s past the point of him responsibly leaving, to now, where there’s no choice of him having to leave now, if he wants any chance of making it to practice on time.

But you, however, are seemingly far from getting your Itoshi Sae fix, not wanting to be far from him at all: you whimpered and whined when he got up for his run, you snuck into his shower with him, you looped your arms around his waist while he made his lunch, now you’ve got his face gripped in your hands, sponging kisses over him.

At first, sure, he loved the attention.

But Itoshi Sae has to leave. Four minutes ago.

“Hey,” he sighs softly, trying to push your shoulders back to peel you off of him. “You know I have to go. Don’t make this harder for me.”

“You don’t have to go,” you say simply. “You and I can just be hermits forever, hide here for the rest of our lives and cuddle forever.”

Tempting. Not that he’d ever tell you that.

“Don’t you want to stay here forever with me?”

He clicks his tongue, “you know I absolutely would if I could. But,” he makes a move to step away, and you whine and squeeze tighter. “I have to go. Then, when I come home, I’ll be able to tell you all about my day while we lay down. You like that.”

“I know I do, but,” you peer up at him with your lethal pout, “I like you being here more.”

Sae looks at the clock on the stove. Then back at you. Then he sighs and leans down to steal another kiss from you, slotting your lips with his. They move in harmony, eliciting small pants from you, and his hand cradles the back of your head lovingly. You mewl and rest your hands on his hips, letting the few seconds of heaven be savored between you.

When he finally pulls away, you’re smiling dopily, giddily, and Sae knows he hit the nail on the head.

You’d wanted a goodbye kiss. Sae always knows what you want from him, and in the morning, it just so happens to be a firm, loving, assuring goodbye kiss.

“Okay,” you purr, letting your hands roam over his back, compliant and melted in his arms. “You can go now. I’m happy.”

“You’re done with me?” He asks.

“Yeah, until tonight anyways,” you hum, kissing his chin. “Better go before I change my mind.”

He cracks a smirk, “you’re a real piece of work, you know that right?”

“What can I say?” You sigh dramatically. “I know how much you love a challenge.”

You’re right.

He really, really does.

[rinnstars]

youre my world!

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

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

reo mikage:

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

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

nagi seishiro:

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

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

itoshi rin:

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

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

itoshi sae:

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

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

[kaiser1ns]

#. A KISS TO PROVE IT

featuring 𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight suggestive. for him kissing wasn't special, but his actions told you otherwise.

You are thirteen. A teenager—well, at least at the start of teenage life. Watching movies where the main characters share their first kiss has become fascinating. What’s so special about kissing, anyway? Do you just walk up to a random boy and kiss him, or do you tell the friend sitting next to you that you want to try it?

"Sae, do you know anything about kissing?" you ask, glancing at him as he remains glued to the TV, watching yet another football game.

"Huh? You mean that disgusting thing adults do when they love each other?"

Love each other? The thought rolls around your mind. Do you really have to love someone to kiss them?

“Well, I think it’s romantic,” you counter.

He finally looks at you, leaning slightly closer. “What’s so romantic about swapping germs with someone else?”

Typical boy—he doesn’t get it.

But what if? What if you kissed someone you really, really liked? What if he was the boy sitting next to you, holding your hand like he is now, his curious gaze waiting for an answer? Would it still be disgusting? Or would it be... something else?

“When a boy and a girl fall in love, they do more than just hold hands or visit each other’s houses,” you murmur, your cheeks heating under his stare.

At your words, Sae lets go of your hand, and you suddenly wish you hadn’t said anything, but then he speaks.

"Do you want to try?” he asks but you don’t answer. You can’t. Your heart is pounding, but he leans in before and... It’s quick, awkward, and ends almost before it begins—a brush of lips that leaves your mind with questions.

“That’s it?” he asks, skeptic and unimpressed by the mere act of kissing. You’re stunned silent, your lips tingling. But Sae, who is never satisfied, leans in again. “Let me prove it—kissing is gross.”

This time, it’s slower, more deliberate, and definitely less awkward. It’s warm, it’s strange, and you can’t help but think he’s wrong. It’s not gross at all. This time, the kiss lingers, as if he’s trying to understand why you find it so fascinating. The world seems to fade away for a moment, until—

The front door slams open.

“I’m home!” a familiar voice echoes through the house, followed by hurried footsteps. Sae pulls back instantly, his expression blank as if nothing happened.

Rin appears in the doorway, stopping dead in his tracks. He blinks at the two of you, then points at you and Sae accusingly. “Why is Nii-chan eating her face?”

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

Sae groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Rin, stop saying stupid things.”

As Rin bounds away, laughing, you sit frozen, your cheeks on fire. Sae exhales, leaning back on the couch like it never happened. “See? Disgusting,” he mutters, though his tone sounds less sure now but he still reached out to hold your hand.

Some things, it seems, are better left in theory.

When Sae left for Spain, it felt like your heart had been ripped out. The boy you’d spent so many afternoons with, arguing, laughing, and most importantly sharing your first kiss, was gone. And the distance between you, one thing remained certain: Sae was your first love, and you fully intended for him to be your last.

Now you are seventeen, in a cozy hotel room, sitting on the plush couch, it feels like no time has passed. He’s here again, leaning into you, and the world-famous athlete—Itoshi Sae the pride of Japan, playing for Re Al is nowhere to be seen.

To you, he’s just Sae. The same annoying, sarcastic boy who always got under your skin, except now.

His lips are on yours, firm and demanding, as if making up for lost time. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and you don’t resist. How could you, when you’ve been missing him just as much?

His mouth trails down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you let out a soft sigh, tangling your fingers in his hair. “You’ve been gone too long,” you whisper, between kisses. Sae pauses just long enough to smirk against your lips. “Not my fault you’re terrible at long-distance relationships.”

You roll your eyes, but the playful retort dies on your tongue as his lips find yours again, hungrier this time. He’s missed you—he doesn’t need to say it; it’s in the way he kisses you, the way he is finally claiming his most important prize.

“Still gross?” you tease, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, his expression softens. “Very gross,” he says, before pulling you back into another kiss, as if trying to prove his point all over again.

You melt into him, your heart pounding as your hands clutch his shirt, desperate to close the space between you. It’s overwhelming, messy, and intense, but neither of you care.

Right now Sae isn’t Japan’s treasure. He’s yours.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[lumiambrose]

sae x reader, fluff, part two

sae's soft launch of your relationship was completely accidental. to protect you from his diehard fans and the relentless paparazzi, he had kept your relationship almost completely secret. it was during an interview with the young prodigy that the incident happened. when asked about his ideal type, he casually replied with 'my girlfriend.'

you were viewing the live interview at home. sae looking as stoic as ever, answered the lukewarm questions of the interviewer with his usual mix of attitude and detachment. you knew there was a softer side to sae. a softer side he kept hidden from everyone else. of course on live television though, you were used to seeing the way—the famous football star and his icy attitude.

the interviewer was left in absolute surprise, clearly taken aback by his response. "your girlfriend?" she repeated his last words, eyes widening slightly.

sae nodded, "yes, my girlfriend," he said simply, his expression unchanging, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. he had never mentioned you publicly before. you knew it was to protect you, but hearing him acknowledge you so openly filled you with a mix of pride and fear.

sae had finally made it home later that evening and thank god, you were filled with anticipation. as you heard the door unlock, you stood up from your spot in the living room and made your way to him, hear pounding, unable to contain yourself.

"sae!" you squealed. "did you really say that on live television?" you asked full of curiosity. of course, you already knew the answer, but you needed to hear it again, from him this time.

he simply nodded, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, protective embrace. "i did. it just slipped out," he admitted, his voice calm. "but i don't regret it. the world should know that you're my ideal."

he gave you some time to contain yourself before nodding ever so casually. he then wrapped his arms around you in a warm and firm embrace. "i did. it just slipped out," he admitted, his voice surprisingly calm considering the fact that you were, respectfully, losing your shit. "but i don't regret it. the world should know that you're my ideal."

finally getting that confirmation to the eventful series of event that kept you on your toes this evening, you looked up at him, eyes glistening with happiness. "i was so surprised, but... it made me really happy," you confessed, leaning your head against his chest.

his fingers ran gently through your hair as he tightened the embrace he had you in. "i'm glad," he murmured. "it’s going to bring you some unwanted attention, but i’ll protect you. i promise."

in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of love and security. sae had always been your rock, and now, even with the whole world watching, you knew he would stand by you.

sae has always been able to give you butterflies but now you also felt an overwhelming sense of love and security from him. he’s always been your rock, and now, even with the whole world watching, you knew he would forever stand by you.

an: aaa i kept seeing this prompt and i just had to try it myself! pt 2 where you get hard launched maybe??