#rin itoshi series

[lalunanymph]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐆𝐎

↳ a foul-mouthed, aggressive, pro-soccer player on the verge of being disqualified from the biggest game of his life, is tossed into a fake relationship with a spoiled heiress to salvage their bad public reputation. what exactly could go wrong?

𖨆♡𖨆 itoshi rin x fem!reader

cw. fake dating, mentions of alcohol, explicit smut, unprotected sex, angst, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, violence (not towards reader), arguments

masterlist | playlist

#4: BABY BOY

Soccer superstar, Itoshi Rin, and influencer, L/N Y/N, debut their brand new relationship—exclusive photos and interviews here!

The headline in Anri’s grasp could’ve burned your retinas off. The editors really went above and beyond to design it such that anyone passing by a newsstand could catch sight of it even when they were a few feet away. Not to mention the searing image of you and Rin brazenly locking lips on the cover.

Your social media was blowing up with mentions, and so were your group chats. Junni herself hadn’t stopped calling you since this morning. You had let every single one of her calls go to voicemail; it was far too early to deal with her shrieking and endless questions.

No doubt she would scold you for leaving her in the dark, and comment on how you were such a bad friend for not telling her the truth. 

Your eyes darted around the meeting room, landing on Rin’s who quickly averted his gaze. His long lashes cast shadows onto his placid expression, and next to him, Ego looked extremely pleased as he peered into his iPad. 

“The organisers are asking me whether this news is real,” the megalomaniac behind Blue Lock chortled. “I suppose we’ll see a new surge of investors for the Silver Strikers soon, huh, L/N-san?”

Your father’s discomfort was palpable, and you could sense how hard he was trying to not glance at the front spread of you passionately kissing Rin, preferring to clear his throat and look Ego in the eyes instead. “Yes, Ego-san. We’ve received a few interesting queries.”

“Good, good.”

Anri picked the magazine up and stuffed it into her briefcase. The PR manager who had roped the two of you into this mess in the first place excitedly waved his phone.

“Y/N-san and Itoshi-san are trending on Twitter!” 

Everyone scrolled through their phones, excited to witness the fruits of this unexpected arrangement, except you and Rin.

The silence was suffocating in this tiny room, and you could hear the gears in every player’s head spinning, wondering how they were going to orchestrate the next appearance of their two favourite pawns. 

“Well,” Daichi pursed his lips and set his phone down. “It appears our plan has worked, Ego-san.”

You tried not to flinch when he patted your shoulder heavily. “Y/N, are you still comfortable resuming this fake relationship for a little while longer?” 

Unbidden, your eyes darted straight to Rin’s who was staring at you from across the table. Silently waiting for your answer. You were tongue tied, caught between selfish desire and the uncertainty of Rin’s true feelings for you. He hadn’t exactly told you what he thought about this sudden wrench thrown into the fake relationship, and you didn’t want to presume anything.

“U-um… what does Itoshi-san have to say about it?” 

Everyone expected Rin to rebuke your words with a rude remark as characteristic of his blunt nature. But, to everyone’s surprise, he just scoffed and leaned back into his chair, turning his impassive eyes towards the outside window. “You can make that decision yourself, Y/N. You don’t have to look to me for guidance.”

This day was spinning deeper and deeper down the web of confusion. Your pretend lover had on a black turtleneck to hide the marks you left on his pale throat the night before, and you had slapped on so much concealer on your own neck, you were terrified that the heat might’ve made the makeup run down; revealing the stark truth of how you and Rin had both slept with each other the night before.

You could not imagine the mortification your father would face if he found out. 

Despite Rin’s hot and cold attitude, and the sudden dizzying reality of the ball he placed firmly in your court, you did not possess an ounce of common sense when you nodded, forsaking rationality for the sudden impulsion to continue on with this charade. To stoke the curiosity burning within you to see what would eventually happen if you and Rin were given more time to get to know each other. 

“I’m okay with carrying on this relationship.”

The meeting was shortly adjourned. Your father stayed back to speak to you, and you noticed the fine lines on his face; the stress from this unprecedented deal showing up on his expression, clear as day.

“Is he treating you well?”

The marks on your neck seemed to burn, reminding you of the debauchery you and Rin participated in before this untimely meeting. You nodded meekly.

“He’s nice, tou-san. He respects my boundaries.”

Daichi could only purse his lips and nod. After all, you were a legal, consenting adult and this was your contribution to help the Silver Strikers regain their footing back in the soccer world.

There was little he could do to dissuade you from changing your mind, and he had a good sense that you were not going to until your duty was done. 

“Your freakishly long arms are taking up half the bed—”

“No, they’re not,” he scowled fiercely, and the effect would’ve been more severe if he wasn’t dressed in a grey shirt with an owl motif embossed on his right pec. Fresh from the shower after practice, it was customary for Rin to cuddle up to you throughout the night until you both fell asleep, and on most days, you were grateful for his broad frame and warmth. But, on days like these when you were prickly from a lack of sleep and the piling deadlines, you chose to complain about his tall physique. 

“You are, too! I can't even breathe at night with you smothering me.”

His scowl deepened when he noticed your lips curving upwards into a smile; until it hit him that you were only teasing. 

“Like you were complaining last night when you told me to go quote unquote harder please.”

Your cheeks warmed and you tittered, unable to look him in the eye. “That was last night. This is now. Please move a little to the side, I need some space to breathe.” 

Rin rolled his eyes, but did as you asked him to. You rewarded his gruff acceptance by slinging your arm around him and scooting closer to his side of the bed, sighing in contentment when you curled into his embrace.

Though he was the shyer of you both, and did not initiate physical contact much, you were the bolder one with your desires and demanded he sleep with you in the bedroom after what had transpired between the both of you two weeks ago. No more transiting to the couch or alternating between it. 

Itoshi Rin was glued to your hip whether he liked it or not. 

And in this  instant, he wasn’t sure if he did.

“I give you the damn blanket every night,” he mumbled under his breath, expression souring. You poked at his mounting temper, kicking it up a notch with a giggle.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” You kissed his cheek in apology and he scoffed, but begrudgingly nuzzled his face into your neck. 

Affection was an unfamiliar language to Itoshi Rin. It mocked him with twists and turns he could not quite keep up with; a fleeting butterfly he often lost in the thick foliage which hid his true heart from the world. Unlike soccer where he was well-versed with its techniques and numerous quirks, love was something Rin failed to grasp; it was something which his fast legs and swift mind could not conquer. Love did not have a score nor did it have a goal. It existed outside of his talent and conceited achievements. 

The last time anyone had remotely even paid any attention or affection to him was when he was too young to understand anything but his determination to bask in Sae’s shadow. 

That was before the incident. 

Before Rin found out that even the biggest of stars in the universe can seem small when its back was turned away from him.

Your close proximity remedied some pockets of the numbness. Gave him back a smile or two thrown in your direction when you weren’t looking. The steadiness of your affection. Your open acceptance of his temper, sour behaviour and snappish mannerisms.  

You didn’t judge him when he woke up in the middle of the night, back ramrod straight and a faraway look in his eyes as the memory of that snowy night replayed through his subconscious mind like an insidious record player. Reminding him of his inferiority; his lack of worth. Reminding him of the brother he lost. 

Rin? Are you okay? You mumbled in the thick of the night, reaching for him. He didn’t respond, and all you did was bring him back into your arms, letting him rest his head in the crook of your neck. The effect was immediate: his rigid shoulders loosened; his breath steadied and the nausea churning anxiously in his stomach calmed at your touch. S’bad nightmare, that’s all. Your steady fingers massaging his scalp brought him back down to the ground. You were just dreaming. 

Sometimes, Rin wondered just what you saw in him. 

He ruminated on those thoughts when you were sitting opposite of him, preparing breakfast, or when you were rattling on about another campaign which you were hesitant to take up. You would always look at him, gauge his reaction, and wait for his response. Sometimes, you would smile at his retort or roll your eyes. 

Rin didn’t care about anything else like Ego’s barely veiled threats for him to sharpen his form before the World Cup or Anri chasing him down for yet another pointless interview which took precious time out of training. As long as you kept on looking at him like he meant something to you. Like he was someone important. He didn’t care what life threw at him so long as he could come home and shed off the unbearable weight of his world in your arms. 

You understood how demanding his career as a soccer superstar was, and didn’t question him whenever he came home late, bruises and cuts littering his calves. With this blossoming relationship, it was easier to commit to the charade when altruistic actions started cropping up. Like when you would dab medication onto his open wounds and ice his sore muscles until he was no longer achy. Or, when he would come back home from the gym, sweaty yet still incredibly good-looking, leaving you tongue-tied on the couch when he asked you what was wrong. 

Rin knew the emotions were piling up. He knew he could no longer hide them. 

But, he was hopeless to even try. 

In public, Rin and you no longer hesitated to take the other’s hand, solidifying this front of two individuals madly in love with one another. The paparazzi went wild, predictably, and the conversation of Rin’s bad behaviour on the fields and your raging drunk scandal went under the radar. Sometimes, a sceptical netizen would bring up the untimely coincidence of this relationship with Rin’s mounting disrepute in the soccer world, but Ego and his team managed to shut it down by downvoting the comment until it was forced to be removed from forum boards.

During the day, you and Rin would lead your own separate lives, but nights were when you both found each other again. 

A comforting routine began to grow: wake up beside each other, drink coffee in companionable silence, and head out to work or practice. At night, you would either prepare dinner with his help or order takeout. Sometimes, you two would make love, and the other times, you would just rest in each other’s embraces, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Rin would let you do most of the talking, preferring to listen. You discerned which topics were safe to bring up (soccer, his annoying teammates), and which ones you should never touch with a ten foot pole (Sae, his parents, his earlier years). As infuriating as it was to try and get to know Itoshi Rin, you respected his boundaries and didn’t demand for more than you were given.

The lines of both your lives grew even more intertwined, and what stemmed once from deception soon grew into something you feared was real. 

You couldn’t imagine waking up in the mornings without Rin’s mop of dark green hair splayed out across your pillow, or not feeling the warm puffs of his breaths on your shoulder. Neither could you fathom who you were as a person months ago without his signature cup of coffee on the kitchen island to greet you after your morning shower. 

Didn’t someone say once that the more time you spent with a person, the more of their mannerisms you would adopt? 

You had started to adapt to Rin’s morning routine of jogging for an hour, but you did it in the comfort of your home gym once he was out for practice. You started to notice your expensive conditioner leaving your shower shelf into his own, a telltale effect from a bout of bickering when you were mortified he did not condition his hair after shampooing it. 

More often than not, you found yourself missing him a little too much, and resorted to wearing his soccer jersey around the house while you cleaned up and perused your social media for more content ideas.

The door clicked open at the same moment you glanced up from your phone, suddenly panicking. Rin didn’t know all about your sneaky tactics in wearing his jerseys (since he has so many around this house, anyway) and it was too late for you to change. He walked in and found you about to stand from the sofa, wide-eyed and frozen to the spot. His teal gaze raked down your figure, immediately recognising his Blue Lock jersey.

“Huh,” he murmured, setting his gym bag down onto the floor. “What’re you doing with that?” 

You brought your legs to your chest, suddenly feeling defensive. “I-I didn’t have enough shirts because… because—you! You forgot to do the laundry. So, I was forced to wear this.”

Rin narrowed his eyes at your accusation, not believing a single word of it. “Oh, yeah? Guess what, dummy? You were the one who was supposed to do laundry this week.”

Hook, line and sinker. 

He had you cornered and unable to give another flimsy excuse. 

You huffed and stood up, which was a mistake because his sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on your bare thighs. 

“Are you… not wearing…?”

He couldn't finish his words. You scoffed, and foolishly lifted the hem of his jersey to show him the tiny shorts you wore underneath. “No. Did’ya think I’m that much of a flirt? Calm your horniness down, loser.”

Were you intentionally trying to get a rise out of him? 

His cock throbbed behind his gym shorts, and Rin was painfully aware of how pretty you looked, glaring at him in nothing but his jersey; your pebbling nipples catching his sharp eyes and stealing his last coherent thought.

Well, if you were trying to get him mad, it was working.

Adrenaline and testosterone from today’s training session reared its head again, and he made it to your side of the room in swift strides, sweeping you into his embrace and crashing his lips down on yours. 

Rin kissed you like he was deprived of oxygen, and you reciprocated with a sharp gasp, your smaller fingers twining in his hair. He lifted you into his arms, and in a dizzying haze of his freakish strength, he held you with one arm while the other ripped your shorts off—actually ripped it, the fabric burn searing your skin—and filled you in one quick thrust with his cock.

He bounced you up and down his length using his sheer size, bringing out your sweet noises that rattled around the room. 

“Rin!” you moaned into his ear and he grunted, thighs starting to shake. “Oh, fuck—so good! You—mhm—fuck me s’good!” 

He finished you on the couch and you rode him till your thighs burned, still clad in his jersey and with his thumb lodged in your mouth. When you finally reached your high, you slumped onto his chest, tired and sated. Rin was breathing hard, unable to open his eyes, mind running on a cocktail of oxytocin and calm. 

“Can I keep this?” your small mumble knocked him back to reality. He opened his eyes to find you fingering the hem of the polyester shirt which was drenched with your sweat. Rin merely nodded, not sure why the sight of your warming face made his stomach flip like he had just scored a risky goal. 

“Go ahead.” It looks better on you, anyway. He didn’t have the nerve to utter that last part out loud. 

Rin and you were growing much more comfortable around each other that it started to scare you; you had no doubt it was scaring him, too. 

One day, you woke up to find the bed empty, and you scoured the penthouse in search of him only to find your cup of coffee in the kitchen, standing forlornly without Rin’s curt good morning greeting attached to it. He had texted you that he had to head to the training centre earlier, and you didn’t see him until midnight.

The dinner you prepared for him was left untouched in the microwave the day after, and you fumed as you cleaned up the mess, poisonous thoughts swirling in your mind. Most of all, you felt unappreciated. Was it so hard for him to clean up after himself? 

But, you tried to be patient; you really did. 

Rin was busier than you were now with the World Cup approaching, and his training was often rigorous and time-consuming.

He became more snappier with you, sour mood darkening the walls of this penthouse that it often left you suffocated. 

You were halfway glad when your manager gave you a campaign which had to be shot in the next week before the launch of the World Cup. At least it gave you the excuse to escape these insufferable walls. 

The moment you stepped into the studio, you were surprised to find a familiar face.

“Aiku?” 

The famous Munchen player who you once had lunch together with during a soccer conference snapped his head up from scrolling through his phone, a bright smile growing on his face when he realised it was you; his dual-hued eyes sparkling in recognition. 

“Eh, Y/N. What’re you doing here?” 

You set your bag down with a tight smile and gestured to the setup. “I’m the talent for today. What about you?”

His chuckle was warm and welcoming, taking you back with its familiarity. “I’m one of the talents, too.” 

Oliver Aiku, according to Junni, was a flirtatious red flag walking on two legs. And you could see why; he had the charm and looks, his status as one of Japan’s top players leaving little room for his confidence to falter.

In short, he was a man who had it all. 

You were halfway embarrassed to stand before him in a skimpy dress while he was in his soccer gear; the both of you making small talk as the production house rushed around to get the set fit for filming. According to your manager, this was a commercial to boost Munchen’s brand presence as the World Cup date approached. 

Though you were tied to Rin in a fake relationship, there was nothing in your contract which stated you could not work with another team. Besides, you were sure Rin wouldn’t mind you play-acting as his teammate’s love interest.

The filming began, and you had to take a few shots with Aiku, which led you sitting on his lap, clapping for joy when he scored a goal on the fake TV screen they were going to superimpose with his image of a fantastic bicycle kick later on in post-production. 

The shoot dragged on, bottomless and exhausting. I want to sleep. You were completely tired by the end of it when Oliver entered your dressing room. He leaned against the door, smiling at you with his arms crossed as you slipped your earrings back on and grimaced from a sudden pang of hunger.

“Heard about your relationship with Sae’s lil bro. Congrats, by the way.”

You shot him a smile, relaxed in his presence. Oliver had an aura about him that you could trust, despite his reputation with women. 

“Thank you. We’re really happy.”

Perhaps it was the slight crack in your tone or the flickering glimmer of your eyes which made it easy for Oliver zeroed in on your true unhappiness. “Hey,” he frowned, dual-colour eyes shining with concern. “Is everything alright?” 

You don’t dare to speak in case you may break down and place an unfair burden on a stranger’s shoulder. Oliver and you weren’t exactly close, and despite how comfortable you felt with him, it gave you no right to spill the secrets of your relationship to a man who was, for all intents and purposes, Blue Lock’s rival. You were sure you would be in deep trouble with your father and Ego if word got out about the true nature of your connection with the youngest Itoshi. 

In answer, you smiled brighter and nodded. 

Oliver sensed through your brooding silence that this topic was off limits and offered you his help in other ways. “Can I walk you back to your car?” 

You had parked in the basement of this building and night was already here. Nobody would bat an eye if he escorted you back to your car, concerned for your safety. Oliver remained a safe distance from you, and you were grateful for his silence, suddenly lost in the workings of your inner thoughts.

“Hey,” Oliver spoke up suddenly. You turned to find his roguishly handsome features speckled with a teasing smile. “If Rin ever gives you hell, tell me, ‘kay? I’ll put in a word with Sae to straighten him out.”

Despite your apprehension on talking about your fake relationship with someone intimately in Rin’s world, you smiled. “Rin is a gentleman,” you rebuked his offer with a dainty laugh. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Aiku smiled. “Okay.” He opened the door for you and you slid in with a nod of thanks. “Drive safe, Y/N. I hope we’ll meet each other soon.” 

Your answering grin was doused with warmth, and you nodded again. “See you soon, Oliver.”

The moment you stepped into the penthouse, exhausted from the heavy traffic and today’s shoot, you sensed something pugnacious in the air. The sensation curled in your stomach like a dreadful cold tendril, and it was exacerbated when you noticed Rin sitting on the sofa, his features hidden by the half-light. He didn’t greet you, awfully silent; toying with his phone, its dim screen casting shadows on his defined face. 

When he heard the door close, he stood up. 

You paused in the hallway, unsure if you should approach him. If it was even safe to do so. 

The distance he put between you two yawned like a chasm, beckoning you to be consumed by the abyss. You wanted to stare into it, to goad it into a reaction so he could at least tell you what was bothering him inside.

“Heard you had a video shoot with Aiku,” he muttered without preamble. Even wrapped in the shadows, his teal eyes shone brightly, though you weren’t privy to the smouldering emotion behind them. 

“Yeah,” you frowned and set your keys down on the console table. “It was for Munchen’s promo. Why?” 

You sensed he was struggling with some huge emotion he could not put into words. Rin’s passive expression twisted into a glare, but it wasn’t the scowls you were used to which were given in a playful context. He genuinely looked pissed at the thought of you together with Aiku. 

“Isn’t it in breach of the contract?” 

You inwardly flinched from the vitriol in his tone. 

Your mind raced in circles, palms going clammy. Confrontation was not your forte.

“It’s not,” you tried to argue back feebly. “I checked the contract with my father. He said it was okay for me to—”

“Didn’t you think to ask me, too?” Rin demanded.

You took a step back, shocked from his sudden outrage. “Rin. W-Why should I ask you for permission? We’re not together. I can do anything I want and so can you.” The second you spoke those words, regret washed over you like a huge tidal wave. Rin’s expression, once brimming with anger, shut down on itself. Losing its spark. 

His neutral gaze raked over your sweatpants and hoodie-clad figure, teal eyes inscrutable. “I see.”

Rin did not say anything else. You watched, rooted to the spot when he picked up his keys and wallet, heading for the front door. Something irrational clawed up your throat, and you took one step forward to grip his elbow. 

To your surprise, he tugged it back with a huff, spinning around to glare at you. “Fuck off, Y/N,” he snarled, his words leaving a huge blow to your composure. Your lower lip wobbled, and your eyes misted over with tears.

“R-Rin—”

“Don’t fucking cry for me,” he continued in his noxious anger. “You said it yourself. We’re not together. So, don’t cry for me like I’m your lover.”

You thought it would be the extent of his spiteful actions, but Rin bulldozed through your emotions, barely caring where his hostile words landed.

“You’re nothing but a nuisance to me. I can’t believe I let this agreement go on for this long. I should’ve ended it in that meeting room. You make me want to fucking puke.”

A sob slipped past your lax lips, and you were trembling from head to toe. “Rin… stop this—w-we’re still a team.” Your words were faint and feeble, easily swept aside by his venomous anger. 

“Maybe you believed we had something special but to me, you’re nothing but a pathetic little brat who relies on daddy for everything. Sickening. Get the hell away from me. I want this arrangement to end now. Get out of my sight.” 

Your soul was aching, your entire body hurting like someone had put you through a hurricane.

“Rinny… please don’t say that,” you mumbled tearfully, reaching for him again, only to be pushed aside. His pretty features were contorted into such a terrifying glare, you were sure your chest would cave in from the agony.

He didn’t bother to reply. Turning around sharply and wrenching the door open, he slammed it closed, leaving alone in your crumbling despair. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there, staring at the door. Waiting for him to come back. Waiting for him to apologise for his unfair treatment. Just waiting for him to reappear again so you could give him a piece of your mind.

When you finally snapped out of it and staggered onto the sofa, eyes still peeled on the door, you noticed the wall clock telling you it was close to three in the morning.

And he still had not come home.

���I heard him say she was an inconvenience,” the voice from the locker room stopped you short. 

You hadn’t slept a wink the night before, and your swollen eyes were hidden behind a pair of shades. When morning came, and Rin was still missing, you convinced yourself to try again; to apologise for your rashness when the voices of his teammates stopped you short. 

Perhaps it was a mistake to search for him at the Blue Lock facility. 

“Can’t believe he ended it so suddenly.”

“Heard he went to a bar last night—that’s a first,” another man snorted. “But then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if he went back home with another chick. Itoshi has always been a bastard.”

Someone clicked their tongue. “She deserves better. Anyway, what’s for lunch—?”

You took a step back, suddenly feeling out of place. How easily your budding emotions for Rin were cast aside as gossip for the day. 

The fluorescent lights were far too garish, tunnelling into your blurry vision. Holding back your tears, hoping they would not fall, you had the worst luck to bump into Anri herself. She chirped a hello, only for you to push past her with a low mumble of how busy you were.

Uncaring that you would be perceived as a rude bitch, you hurried back to your car, slamming the door closed as you finally let the dam burst. Your loud sobs ricocheted around the interior, hidden behind the heavily tinted windows, and you held onto your torso, bleeding out the pain you held on for the whole night. 

While you were tossing and turning, trying to reach him and apologise, Rin had discarded you like you didn’t mean a thing; running into the arms of another girl. Running away from you. 

But, what did you expect? 

Itoshi Rin was a cruel bastard on and off the field. He didn’t care about anyone else but himself. An egotistical man through and through. 

A man incapable of love. 

Why did you even think he would care for you? 

That this whole thing was real? 

You were surprised he did not evict you from the penthouse. At the thought, you summoned enough inner strength to straighten your glasses back on and slowly reverse out of the facility, heading straight to your father’s office. 

The moment you entered, he could tell something was wrong. Daichi set down his pen, gazing at you in concern. 

“Darling?” 

From your rumpled clothes to your swollen cheeks, every line on your weary figure spoke of a palpable heartbreak.

“I want to end this arrangement.” You didn’t care if Rin had reached out to him first. Or, if Ego would skin your father alive for prematurely dashing their grand plan. You wanted nothing to do with Itoshi Rin anymore.

Daichi removed his glasses and set them down on the desk, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess. A fight?” 

You stared at the carpet underneath your sneakers, saying nothing.

After a few more moments of your stubborn silence, Daichi relented. “Fine. I will tell Ego this is over. I—”

“I’m sorry,” you finally mumbled, at least having the face to apologise for ruining your father’s carefully constructed plan to save the Silver Strikers. “I tried, tou-san. I really did. But, he’s—we’re—not able to pretend anymore.”

Daichi’s expression fractured in concern when tears started to bead on your lash line. “Darling, I’m not angry with you. Screw the investors. If you’re unhappy, we’ll end this stupid fake relationship.” He stood up, and the scent of his Old Spice cologne made your nose tickle as he got closer, especially when he pulled you into his tight embrace. “I was against this in the first place. Itoshi is not a good man. I’m sorry for forcing this on you. This agreement is over.”

You sniffed, and nodded, grateful for his swift compassion. It was the least you deserved after last night’s ordeal. “Thank you, tou-san.” 

Your father let you go, and scrutinised your expression. “What do you need now?” 

What did you need now? 

You could not think clearly, your thoughts replaying his snarl in your mind, your chest achingly empty. But, Daichi was a man of action, and he needed to know what to do next. 

“I want to remove my things from that penthouse,” you decided in a soft, hoarse voice. “Then, I’ll figure out my next move.”

Daichi peered at you without a hint of emotion on his weathered face. Eventually, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll get the movers to help out. Do you want me to inform Ego?”

Honestly, you couldn’t give two shits if Rin’s coach found out the truth. You wanted nothing more than to remove yourself from this situation as fast as you could. So, you shrugged, and your father knew it was wise not to push you into making any more decisions. 

He let you leave the office without another word, and you tearfully went back to the penthouse, unsurprised to find Rin still missing. Pain wore you down when you figured out that he was actively avoiding you. Sure, it made things easier, but you wished—on some level—that he would fight for you. Come back to you. 

Was it a lot to ask for? 

Stuffing your clothes in your luggage bag, you paused when the soft material of his jersey grazed your fingertips. Such a simple, innocuous item had the power to flood you with memories; the time he came back home and found you lounging around in this same shirt, the nights you cuddled next to him wearing this jersey.

If we were just pretending, why did it feel so real? 

The answer to that question would elude you. 

Just like Rin’s presence and how easily he took back his affection like it didn’t matter—like you didn’t matter. 

Maybe some things in life would remain indecipherable.

So, you packed his jersey with your clothes, and switched off the lights on your way out the front door, leaving this arrangement behind—leaving him behind.

After all, you weren’t obligated nor welcomed to keep on trying when he had made it abundantly clear he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. 

The sound of clashing metal on metal rang loudly in his ears.

Rin caught the ball before it could evade his pass, and aimed for another goal. A buzzing sound went off when it careened right into the net, and his overall score increased, albeit slower than his performance yesterday. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could distinguish a figure making its way down the artificial green grass, and paid them no mind. His thoughts were tangled up, bunched together into one Gordian knot. Rin slipped a little on a wet patch on the ground and the ball skidded from his grip, his distracted thoughts causing his unwavering composure a great price.

He missed the inside of the goalpost by a few inches.

“Fuck,” he spat, straightening his wonky leg.

“You okay?”

Rin tried hard to not roll his eyes. Of course, it would be fucking Isagi Yoichi who came to check up on him. He did not reply, preferring to retrieve the ball and start on a few dribbles, pretending Isagi was not even there. 

“Is your leg working right?” 

What a dickhead. Rin was forced to swallow down his anger, Ego’s voice echoing in the back of his mind. 

One more foul, Itoshi, and you’re bench warming the World Cup until I say you can hit the field.

The warning was clear—play nice or get the fuck out of Blue Lock. And Rin could not lose his golden ticket to beat Sae at his own game. 

“Yeah,” he grumbled, loud enough for the dweeb to hear him from his corner of the field. 

“The other guys are worried.”

Rin didn’t stop bouncing the ball between his two nimble feet, aiming it straight for the goal—and missing it again.

The blood roared in his ears, and he was close to snapping someone’s neck. That someone being Isagi if the other man did not stop talking. He needed to fucking focus, for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t anyone figure that out? 

No. All they were obsessed about was to get him to open up about his stupid fucking feelings and how he was handling this stupid breakup which wasn’t even a breakup in the first place because he wasn’t even together with that lukewarm loser and she had the fucking nerve to walk out without telling him—take her shit and leave their home like he fucking owed her an explanation and—

Rin missed the goal again.

A loud, frustrated roar ripped past his throat, and Isagi was far too close—caught up in the eye of his storm. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Rin’s fists were balled on the front of his shirt, and Isagi’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Itoshi—”

His words were cut off from a swift crack to his jaw. Isagi sputtered and staggered back, holding his bloody nose. “What the fuck—?!” 

Someone tackled him to the ground and more men joined in the fray to stop this brawl from fleshing out. 

Rin was hauled onto his feet, a pair of steel arms holding him back. He could see nothing but red; taste nothing but the need for revenge coating the back of his throat. Mikage fucking Reo had pushed himself in between the two men, rapid calls for a ceasefire clamouring above Isagi’s snarls to let him go. 

The bloodlust wafting from the other man should’ve given him pause, but Rin was ready. He wanted Isagi to snap—to land a swift blow either on his face or gut. He was waiting for a strike so he had an excuse to batter the shorter man to the ground. Get an excuse to take out the horrible, sticky grief in his soul which could not find an outlet from his scarred heart.

Nagi was the only one strong enough to hold Rin back, and for a split second, he resented how that lazy white-haired fucker could put in the effort when he wanted to. 

Their imminent brawl was stopped by Anri’s panicked voice stretching across the field.

“Boys! Calm down!” She managed to take over Reo’s part, though her efforts were in vain when Isagi and Rin did not stop staring the other down, teeth bared, trying to rough out of the arms holding them back.

“Itoshi. Isagi. Stand down—both of you.”

Ego’s drawl reached both their heated ears, and knocked some semblance of rationalism into them both. Isagi was the first one to take a step back, the rivulet of red running down his face standing out harshly like a cracked fissure on his skin. Bachira eventually let his friend go, and Isagi deflated, sighing.

His kick came in a flash. 

Pain exploded in his stomach and Rin grunted loudly, doubling down; if it weren’t for Nagi’s sudden tight grasp around him, he would’ve embarrassingly curled up on the ground in agony.

“For the sake of your fucking fangirls, I spared your stupid face, Itoshi.”

The ground shook, his vision turning red, and the boys were in a riot when Rin lashed out, breaking free from Nagi’s grip and thundering towards Isagi’s susceptible turned back. All the sudden, his warpath was disrupted by Ego himself, with Anri at his helm. The both of them wore twin looks of uneasiness, the feat incredible considering how this lukewarm four eyed asshole’s default reaction was to act like a cheesy anime villain half of the time.

His mentor and coach’s usual composure went out the window at the sight of his violence, knocked Rin’s anger down a few pegs and he took a step back. 

The field was silent, the other men gaping at him; Rin felt his ears burning.

“Fuck this,” he spat, turning on his heel.

“Two strikes, Itoshi,” Ego’s voice trailed after him like a ghostly rabid dog nipping at his heels. “One more time and I’m destroying your contract with Blue Lock.”

Rin had the patience enough to not flip his coach off as he left the verdant fields and straight home.

The anger pulsed in his mind, festering a hurricane from somewhere in his right temple. Beyond fatigued, he wished he had the nerve to at least attack Isagi when he was facing him. Only a coward struck from the back. His mind ran in constant circles, dragging his impending guilt and silent seething behind like a heavy ball and chain that he did not happen to notice his car idling in a garage he swore he would never return to.

His own apartment in the city centre was a long distant hum, and in a single second, he wondered just what the fuck had gotten in him.

Did his anger and impulsiveness lead him back to a place which was growing to be as familiar as his own home? 

Rin did not know the answer to that. He merely thumped his head back onto the NSX’s headrest and took a deep breath. I guess I should go up, he finally reasoned with himself. Slowly, he opened the car door, stepping into the elevator leading him straight towards the penthouse right at the top. Rin did not know what he would expect when the door fell open, but the pressing silence was a well-known guest.

He walked amongst the untouched furniture like a living ghost, staring at the couch which held the indents of his body and yours. Together; cradled in an embrace, coddled from the world. Rin should’ve never kissed your forehead, or held your hand. He never should’ve entered this agreement in the first place. If he didn’t, he might be blissfully unperturbed, spared from the horrible, serrating pain blooming fresh in the innermost parts of his soul. 

His life would still be drenched in shades of monochrome and stillness, but at least, he would be safe.  

Rin would never have to wonder if the fractured silence would shine like gold the moment your voice touched the air. He didn’t have to turn the question of your wellbeing over and over in his hands until his fingers were numb with trepidation. He wouldn’t wake up the first thing in the morning and scroll through his phone log, as if terrified he had missed a call of a lifetime. The taste of ochazuke wouldn’t be tainted with your smile. Sunrises would be just minute occurrences in the morning, and not the exact moment when you would turn in his arms and press your lips to the hollow of his neck.

His nights in watching horror movies would go back to his soiree of one, and not a chance for him to pull you closer and kiss your forehead; hold you tight while you flinched and yelped from every jumpscare. 

Most of all, every inhale he took did not come with the thought of you pressed in the back of his mind; boxed in like a neon sign on loop, demanding his every attention. 

You were suddenly a stranger who knew his secrets—how his kisses taste, how his nightmares left him susceptible to seeking out your touch. How his rancid mood could be remedied by your tinkling laugh and soothing touch.

He feared how much of him you held in your palms. How easily you left him behind without another word.

The top three worst nights of his life were when he came home to find your things missing and the rest of your items neatly in a box, ready to be shipped out to wherever in the world you were right now. 

Rin didn’t know your exact location; he didn’t dare visit your Instagram profile, keeping off the voyeuristic app for the sake of his sanity. He did watch Oliver’s feed for the brand video, and it wasn’t half as bad as he expected it to be. You were innocently sitting on Aiku’s lap, acting your part as a doting girlfriend who cheered and clapped when he scored a goal on the little TV playing in your make-believe living room. 

He took in a deep breath, looking around this corporeal, imaginary living room which held nothing but your memories. 

He wished he had spoken to you—tried to speak. But, Rin’s tongue was sharpened not from loving sentiments and dripping in honey, but spiked with toxic constipated sentiments he could never bring out from the depths of his mind. Any time he mustered the courage to call your number, he chickened out and put his phone back onto the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He rubbed his sore sternum where Isagi’s forceful kick could still be felt, and winced. 

Since he was here, he decided to stay the night; after all, Ego hadn’t yet asked him to return the keys. 

Rin settled on the sofa, exhaling lowly, watching the twinking city lights splayed before him with exhausted, hooded teal eyes. A sudden click from the door made his heart explode into a thousand frenzied flutters, and he quickly scrambled to his feet, daring himself to hope, to dream—that you would come back to him.

But, it was your father who paused by the threshold when he registered who it was in this home. A hard look passed over the older man’s face, and Rin straightened, wishing he wasn’t in his muddied jersey and sweaty jacket when he finally came face to face with the solemn man; wishing he had a better explanation for why he had turned up unannounced to this penthouse he once shared with you. 

“Itoshi-kun,” Daichi sounded disapproving. “What’re you doing here?”

“I…” he could not tell him the truth. Rin let the question sink into the silence, taking the older man’s perception down a stream of realisation when he noticed how the young soccer star could not look into his eyes.

“She’s not here,” he finally said in a soft voice. Rin nodded, a hasty bob of his head.

“I-I know, L/N-san. I was… just about to leave.”

He realised a second too late his presence would be considered a breach of privacy to this penthouse under Daichi’s name and quickly picked up his things. “I didn’t mean to step back here,” Rin paused, internally withering from how awkward this meeting was. “I’ll be going… sir.”

The younger man was about to scamper away in awkwardness with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, when Daichi stopped him. 

“Did you regret whatever you did to her, boy?” 

Rin froze in mid-step, and this time, he turned around with a wary look in his teal eyes. The two men waited in the bated silence, and for the first time in his life, Rin could not find it in the depths of his foul soul to be callous to a man who clearly wanted an explanation of why his daughter discarded this agreement with such forlorn haste.

“I… yes.” 

He finally uttered. “I did not mean the words I said to her.”

Daichi’s lips thinned and Rin did not know where to look. He suddenly felt too wide open, like there were too many blindspots surrounding him, filled with players ready to jump at his jugular. 

“I knew you had a rotten personality, but I didn’t know how much it could’ve affected my daughter,” Daichi finally said. Rin bowed his head, taking the older man’s scoldings with barely a grimace—another first in his life. 

“I’m… I apologise, sir.” 

Daichi didn’t say anymore, and was about to brush past the dazed soccer player when Rin’s sudden, desperation-laden question coated the air with disquiet ashes; an aftermath of a bomb going off in your father’s festering soul.

“Sir, could you please tell me… what happened to Y/N’s mother?” 

Rin didn’t care if such a blunt question would gain him your father’s further distaste. His stinging thoughts locked on your very first fight with him when you had stormed off to a club. He had managed to bring you back then through the divine force of another influencer’s incompetence in taking care of her own friend.

This time, he surmised fate would not be as kind to hand him a leverage when he did not deserve one in the first place.

“Why do you ask?” Daichi flitted his eyes to Rin’s furrowed brow; the evident regret weighing the young man’s features down.

“I… was just curious. It was not in her profile and she never mentioned anything about her.”

Whether by divine intervention or Daichi's quickness in putting two and two together to understand an aspect of what contributed to this rocky fake relationship, he sighed, swaying back on his heels.

Finally, he shook his head, looking Rin in the eye with a barely-concealed grimace which he tried to mask as an absent smile.

“Y/N was two when her mother passed away in a car crash. She was coming back from a party and was slightly intoxicated.” 

Daichi was ignorant to how Rin’s shoulders stiffened; how his teal eyes flashed with an unnamed emotion he himself could not decipher.  

“She died upon impact and the other driver who did it ran off. It’s been years, but there are moments when I feel like it just happened—like I’m still relieving it.” His weathered face deepened with regret. “If there is one thing I can tell you, boy, is that life is too short to have regrets and be in constant denial of your true emotions. If you have someone you love—someone you want to cherish—do it. Because when death takes them away from you, you’ll find yourself completely alone except for those memories to keep you company.”

Daichi finished his quiet words with an even quieter sigh. “Take care of yourself, Itoshi Rin-kun.” 

He left the penthouse, the door falling close softly behind him, leaving Rin alone once more with his thoughts and regrets.

The barrage of chirps from his phone woke him up from a doze.

Rin hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the sofa again, but he had found himself once more at his penthouse the day after his fateful meeting with Daichi; as if his soul was tied to these four walls, he could not escape them. A spectre revisiting every crevice, speck of dust and memory which lingered in the nooks of this familiar yet foreign space.

He squinted at the dim glow of his phone and straightened, rubbing his bare chest to stifle a big yawn. When he finally fumbled with his phone’s password and unlocked the string of messages, his heart stopped in its tracks.

Isagi (Work): Yo, bro, I think you need to check this out. 

Bachira (Work): Wtf…….. Damn, that’s cold.

M. Reo (Work): Can’t believe she moved on that quick….

Na.gi Sei (Work): And with your brother too?? What a pain. Sorry, bro.

Rin shakily clicked on the link Isagi shared in their internal group, and he was immediately faced with his worst nightmares come to life.

Drama on the fields? Promiscuous heiress trades her striker heartthrob for his older, hunky midfielder brother. 

Your face was splashed across the tabloids, warmed from what he recognised as a few drinks in your system. The little black dress you wore could barely cover your thighs, and the neon pink heels you paired them with gave off a strong impression that you had dressed up half-heartedly. The Y/N he knew would never let herself step out looking this simplified, and he was caught up absorbing the little details, he almost failed to notice you in the arms of someone who made his breath hitch. 

Disbelief, cold and sticky, flooded his empty stomach, and Rin sat up straighter, hunching forward with his elbows on his knees to scrutinise the image in clearer detail. 

His older brother barely looked fazed with his arms around you, a small smile on his face. Rin swallowed the ball of bile forming in his throat and scrolled down, breath lodged somewhere underneath his aching heart. 

You in Sae’s arms. Laughing. Holding onto his brother while a moment of unadulterated happiness flusters across your warm features. The strong grip his brother had around your tinier figure; how you looked like you could be swallowed by his defined biceps and overbearing presence.

The casual way you had your fingers twined around his neck.

Rin knew that easy-going intimacy—having had a hit of it back when you were still his. And now, you no longer belonged to him, but to his brother.

— feedback and reblogs are immensely appreciated <33

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[lxcalmenace]

I Was Wrong, If Only I Knew.

When the usually so cold and reserved Rin Itoshi agreed to go out for dinner with you, you couldn't help getting excited but also a part in you was awfully suspicious of his sudden change in his behavior. You finally learnt the despondent truth when it was time to meet for the dinner.

A Rin Itoshi series (on-going)

Highschool AU

Chapter 3 Masterlist Chapter 5

Chapter 4: You and your filthy 'sorrys'

Gn! Y/n

Tw: Swearing, Slight angst

Taglist (open)

@hellothere9597 @ririgards @legoome @dtaliah @qyuvna

-----------------------------------------☆

Why? Why now out of all times? Can't he just leave me alone? I've seen enough already. Don't want to see his face, hear his voice. Just be gone already! I hate him- I hate you Rin Itoshi

.

.

.

You and Shidou were having breakfast when someone rang your doorbell. Getting up from your chair, you made way towards the door and opened it. The happiness on your face was now replaced with something representing bitterness. Eyes now wide, your body froze in its place. You never expected this, not once.

There was Rin. Standing at your door, rain pouring down as his wet clothes clinged to his toned body. He knows that he messed up and he also knows that you won't forgive him, but nevertheless, he decided to visit. After what felt like years, your eyes met his. No one uttered a word as the sound of rain pitter-pattered around you. He tried to avoid your gaze, unable to muster up the courage to say anything. Silence followed until finally you muttered something.

"Do you need anything?," You tried to sound calm

"Uhm I'm....I'm sorry I guess. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," you cut him off, "I forgot about it honestly"

You shrugged your shoulders and stared at him, internally hoping that your voice didn't give away your nervousness and pain. You heard Shidou behind, he was probably coming to check for the reason of your absence. If Shidou saw Rin he would definitely make a scene, so it was better if Rin left right now. You said a quick 'goodbye' to Rin and tried to close the door only for it to be blocked by Rin.

"Hey wait up! Do you forgive me?"

Too late. The damage has already been done.

"Yeah it's alright. You can leave now."

Too late again. Shidou was already opening the door wide open.

.

.

.

Silence.

The tension in the air crackled like static. Every breath you took seemed strained, as if the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions bore down on the room. Anyone who knew Shidou well could easily tell that Shidou was pissed; Really pissed. Jaw clenched and his sharp gaze fixed on Rin. Heart now pounding hard against your chest, you swallowed the lump formed in your throat. The two taller males just stared down each other, no one daring to utter a single word. Heart now pounding hard against your chest, you swallowed the lump formed in your throat. The two taller males just stared down each other, no one daring to utter a single word.

"You seriously had the audacity to show up today after all the shitty things you did??" The blond's tone laced with poison, "Y/N doesn't need you and your filthy 'sorrys' so get the fuck out from her life."

And even before the Itoshi could say anything, the door was slammed shut. Your eyes widen as Shidou stormed inside. Practically frozen, you stood there motionless because you never saw this side of Shidou. The situation got even more worse and honestly, you didn't want to face neither of them.

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A/n: Omg I am so busy with college that I forgot that I had a Tumblr acc. so sorry for the long absence. I'll try to post atleast one post every 2 weeks. Really sorry because yall had to wait for so long. Have a great day <3

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex���s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL

From: fumiko.gima@apextalentgroup.com To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: wfitch@everlanefitch.com, mai.sasaki@apextalentgroup.com, hideakitakeda@titansecuritysolutions.com, benji1968@gmail.com + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]

All — 

Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule. 

Fumiko Gima

Get Outlook for IOS 

Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off. 

At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.) 

You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you. 

“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit. 

The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms. 

By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.

You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.

The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty. 

Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts. 

At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.

juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u 

It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words. 

juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment] 

Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.

juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason 

You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.

Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.

Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested. 

So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?

At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media. 

“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.” 

The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.

You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know, 

“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.” 

You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.” 

You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming. 

At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything. 

Late in the afternoon, you get another text. 

kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now

A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense. 

You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out? 

At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world. 

Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity. 

You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living. 

At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days. 

You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home? 

Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too. 

you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :) 

When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.

Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.

Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:

Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM. 

This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her. 

You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend. 

In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words. 

You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.

When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be. 

One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.

“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her. 

A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you. 

“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”

All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table. 

“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day. 

At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her. 

“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.” 

“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy. 

“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.” 

“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress. 

“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could. 

“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.” 

Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?” 

Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation. 

“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?” 

Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him. 

Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?” 

You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks. 

Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together. 

But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.

If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers. 

“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend. 

Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.” 

You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion. 

“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk). 

“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”

“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.

What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you. 

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned. 

“Never better.” 

“Do you have a ride home?” 

What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say. 

“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking. 

“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge. 

(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.) 

When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly. 

“Let me take you home.” 

You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.” 

He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early. 

“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.

“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”

No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.

“I’m taking you home, [Name].” 

You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever. 

“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car. 

No. 

Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…

To Isagi groping you?

You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.

He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up. 

“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!” 

“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!” 

“Then why were your hands all over me?” 

“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”

Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet. 

“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”

Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint. 

He blinks. “What?” 

“What?” You repeat back, innocently. 

“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”

“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back. 

“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”

“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup. 

“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.” 

Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks. 

You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway. 

It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back. 

Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces. 

And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.

You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.

“You’re leaving, too?” 

Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps. 

He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.” 

“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets. 

“Do you really want me to stay?” 

At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.

[dira333]

Cats in the Cradle - Itoshi Rin - Part 1

Baby Series - part 2

It’s not that he didn’t think about having kids before it happened. Rin was everything if not thorough and though he did not bring up the topic on your first date - truthfully, he had been too flustered to think properly in your presence that night - he brought it up soon after.

He wanted children, but he would not let them go through what he’d gone through.

“An only child,” he said, “and I’m not willing to compromise on that.”

He was willing to compromise on a lot of things. Where to live, when to get married - and how - or if you wanted to keep working or not after the wedding or the birth of said child. 

This decision could make or break your relationship, but luckily it was one you could compromise on.

“They’ll find lots of friends at school,” you agreed, “and we can adopt some pets to play with.”

Pets were another thing Rin wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

But, as it turned out, he could be convinced to keep the little furry thing you’d found on your way home from work, a kitten that liked to sleep on his stomach, purring up a storm.

-

It’s not that he didn’t think about having kids before it happened, but as the red line appeared on the pregnancy test everything shifted, like an earthquake had hit his home and his home alone.

And even if he might have wanted to wait another year or two, enjoy the comfortable Silence only interrupted by Kita’s purring or your giggling, the breathless wonder on your face made all of that irrelevant.

-

“Vitamins?” is a daily question in his household now, popping one out of the package for you each morning.

There’s a pile of books on his nightstand and he spends most evenings reading now, your body curled into him, Kita snuggled in between, purring so loud he can barely hear the TV in the background.

“We’re going to have to cut back on the coffee,” he says one day, never once phrasing it as something only you’re going to go through. If you have to miss out on something, so will he.

At least until they tell you to cut back on sports. That’s non-negotiable for now.

“What do you think of Mana?” You ask over a cup of tea on Sunday, going through your own books. “For a girl? Or Yoichi for a boy.”

“Not Yoichi,” he groans, “Anything else.”

“Megumi?” Your giggle betrays you.

“Not Megumi either,” he still plays along, leaning in to kiss your nose.

-

“Now you’ll hear the heartbeat,” the doctor announces, Rin’s hand squeezing yours so hard it hurts. The sound fills the room, new and somehow familiar at the same time.

“Oh,” the doctor blinks, “There’s a second one.”

“What?” Rin’s voice breaks on that single-syllable word. You repeat it for him.

“Congratulations, you’re having twins.”

[calypsocolada]

SEVEN MONTHS | r. itoshi

synopsis: a seven month relationship has it's turbulent moments... author's note: hello! this will be part of a three part series. first part will be rin, second nagi and third Isagi. I'm gonna try and tie them all together like a little bow. anyways enjoy this first part! this was lots of fun to write and ended up a bit longer than I intended but ya know. wc: 5.2k cw: fluff, use of y/n, not proofread, fem reader, angst click here for my masterlist!

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In high school you dated this boy. It lasted seven months. Being young makes everything feel so heightened, so… pressing. The love you felt and the hurt towards the end was nothing you’d ever felt before. Like something from the books you’d read or the movies on screen. It felt that important. That serious. Seven months turned you cynical. Because the heart you handed out was taken and never returned. And what’s a body without a heart? 

When you graduated high school you went into the world like that. Closed off and careful. You’d been burned once with no way to properly heal. You wouldn’t make that mistake again with someone new. 

Rin Itoshi had already ruined that for you.

And when a couple months passed after graduation and snow had started to fall that last thing you expected was Rin on your doorstep. Black hair dusted with snowflakes. It was obvious he’d walked to your house. His cheeks red from the cold, shoes and the cuffs of his pants wet and partially frozen. You had months to sit and stew with your feelings. With the hurt he’d left you. With the good memories that liked to cloud the bad ones. When you met him he was a completely different person from the one you fell in love with to the one you barely knew as he stood on your porch. 

“May I please come in?” He asked politely, a slight tremor in his voice. It was obvious he was cold. 

“You should’ve called.” You answered coldly. He shivered, from the cold or your tone you weren’t sure. 

“Would you have answered?” He asked, a sickeningly hopeful look on his face. But behind that, resignation as you answered the way he expected. 

“No.” It was a resolute answer. But you surprised him as you moved to the side, an unspoken invitation to come inside. Your Mom was out for the weekend, she’d be back Monday to see you off to the airport and off to college you’d go.

You pushed the door shut behind him, clipping off the cold air. Rin’s back was to you, broad shoulders fitted with a black suede jacket, snow sprinkling across it. The walk from his house to yours could’ve easily been an hour. And although this was someone you felt strong negative emotions for he was also someone you would’ve given your own jacket to months before. Letting yourself face that cold alone just so he wouldn’t know what it felt like. But this was also someone who just… wouldn’t do the same for you. He might’ve cared in his own way but… you were always going to be second in his mind. 

“Go sit by the fireplace, I’ll make some tea.” You said, brushing past him towards the kitchen, not looking back. You fell into a routine as your mind drifted. Traitorous thoughts pouring in because this exact moment had happened before but the circumstances were different.

~

You used to study at a park near your house. Had been going to it for a little bit, at least two or three months since you moved back here with your mom. Your mom worked as a saleswoman so throughout most of the day she was arguing with people over the phone and since your apartment has thin walls you could barely focus. The park was usually very quiet. The occasional few kids playing at the jungle gym or jogger passing by, the gentle pat of their shoes on the pavement. The only thing as punctual as you was the determined boy practicing soccer across the field. He went to school with you but was a grade above you so you didn’t have any classes with him. You’d only see him in passing periods and occasionally out in the courtyard during lunch. But now almost everyday at the park around 5:30. The boy was wildly punctual. You’d be engrossed in your studies and suddenly hear the sound of a cleat smashing a ball into the goal. That’s how you’d know you had about thirty minutes left to study. You didn’t like being out when it got dark so you usually left by 6. 

This particular day you were reading homework chapters from a book. You heard the usual cleat smashing the ball and flipped your page. Thirty minutes left. The wind picked up as your papers on the picnic table were carried from the table. You jumped to your feet, grabbing them as they hit the grass. You straightened, your eyes naturally falling across the field. You spotted the boy sat in the grass, wrapping something around his ankle, his face twisted in silent discomfort. You sucked in a breath, placing your papers back on the table sliding your book atop them so they didn’t fly away again. You watched as the boy pushed himself to his feet, he wobbled for a moment then took a step. You could hear the curse fall from his lips across the field as he fell to his knees in pain. You gasped slightly, swallowing nerves as you jogged across the field towards him. 

“Hey! Hey are you okay?” You called out to him as you approached from behind. It was a silly question since you’d seen him fall to his knees in pain. The boy with the black hair waved his hand dismissively. 

“I’m fine.” His voice was clipped, you didn’t have to be a master in body language to know he was not fine at all. You walked around towards the front of him and met his eyes. 

“I don’t think so. Did you hurt your ankle?” You asked, searching his face. You’d never been this close to him, never looked at his face this long. His eyes were sharp, like a cat’s, sharp and blue with long lashes and a downturned mouth. Must’ve been used to frowning. 

“No.” He answered shortly, his hand lingered by the wrap on his ankle. For a moment you just stared at him, surprised by his attitude. He was sort of an asshole. Slowly you nodded your head in understanding, you knew when your presence wasn’t wanted. 

“Ah, must’ve just imagined you falling to your knees in pain, my mistake.” You answered back just as shortly, walking on past him back towards your picnic table. You got about ten steps away before…

“Wait.” His voice just barely carried over the wind. You turned, his eyes drilled into the grass, not meeting yours. “Could you help me to my car?” He asked but his voice was still a bit sharp, as though it physically pained him to ask for help. You grew up with manners, you knew how to say please and thank you, there was no shame in asking for help. But there was shame in being a dick about it. 

“Please.” You said and his eyes cut to yours, the wind blowing his hair slightly, his dark brows furrowed softly. 

“What?”

“Ask nicely.” You said evenly. You watched his lips part in surprise. He clearly wasn’t used to someone sticking up to him. You could see it in his face, the annoyance he felt over your two words. You raised your brows expectantly and turned to remind him you could just leave. He raised a hand to you, an outstretched hand. 

“Wait,” he said again, swallowing dryly. He sighed, letting his hand fall to the grass. “Could you help me to my car… please?” He pouted. Actually pouted. 

“That sounded more painful than your hurt ankle.” You regaled, walking towards him. He raised his hand again and your freezing fingers slid into his warm palm. You gripped him tightly, pulling him with all your might to his feet. The man was a giant, at least two heads taller than you. He leaned heavily against you, his right arm sliding over your shoulders as you wrapped your left arm around his hip, your right hand reaching up and holding his hand by your shoulder. You helped him towards the parking lot, listening to his try to hide the pain he felt. He’d suck in a quiet breath or you’d feel his hand tense. 

“You gonna make it?” You asked, turning and craning your neck to meet his eyes. He stared straight. 

“Of course.” He said through gritted teeth. It almost made you laugh. This boy was a stubborn creature.

“Lean more on me. I’m here for a reason aren’t I?” You asked, hearing the boy swallow dryly. 

“I’ve seen you… before.” Changing the subject? He wasn’t sly. 

“I come here to study.” You answered, tightening your hold on his hip. 

“Not here. School.” He amended. 

“Yeah… yeah I’ve seen you too.” You answer nonchalantly. “You hurt that one girl's feelings the other day.” You felt him stiffen. 

There were a few whispers about the boys in your school, you were never one for gossip but you had ears and sometimes that’s all the girls in your grade wanted to talk about. The soccer prodigies, Rin, Isagi and Nagi. There was a girl in your grade that decided she wanted to be different from the other girls that had asked Rin out. She got him flowers and chocolates, and made a big embarrassing show of it. You didn’t know Rin that well but you had a feeling it wouldn’t go well. The girl did it during a passing period so a lot of kids were passing by. Your locker just happened to be in view of the whole thing. You didn’t want to watch but most kinds were blocking your path. You missed the first bit of her speech but caught the obvious question. Will you go out with me? You peered behind a couple students, just barely catching Rin’s response as well as the completely uninterested look he gave her. Who’re you? He had asked. The hall was silent. Forty, no fifty kids all surprised and embarrassed into silence. The tears came first and then the girl was pushing through the laughing crowd. The girl was in your next two periods but she didn’t show up. Rin had completely embarrassed the girl. She didn’t show up the rest of the week.

“What… was I supposed to say?” He asked. You furrowed your brow.

“If you weren’t interested you could’ve been polite about it.”

“I wasn’t interested. And I didn’t know her.” He says as though that gave him reason to embarrass the poor girl. You sighed. This was none of your business, you’d talked to the girl maybe once or twice in passing. You just simply shook your head. Who were you, a girl he didn’t know, to lecture him on turning down another girl he apparently didn’t know.

“She was just hurt, that’s all.” You said dismissively as you crossed over from the grass towards the parking lot, you two paused as you gathered up your book bag and papers, shoving them into your bag. You pulled him towards your car as he slowed, showing some resistance. 

“My car’s that way.” He pointed. 

“I’m aware.” You continued walking. “But you hurt the foot that you drive with so I’ll give you a ride.”

“I live across town.” He said as though it was too far.

“Then give me gas money.” You groaned, fishing out your keys from your pocket.

“I… I can’t.” He stuttered. He sounded… nervous?

“I’m joking, it’s fine. I have gas.” You informed him as he pulled you both to a stop.

“I can’t go home just yet.” He said quietly. You looked up at him.

“What?” 

“I can’t go home just-”

“I know what you said.” You sighed. “What do you mean you can’t go home?”

“I practice until ten, every night. I can’t go home. Or he-” Releasing he might’ve been revealing something too personal Rin stopped talking. You stared up at him, brows curved in confusion.

“You’re hurt, you can’t practice.”

“Please.” His eyes met yours imploringly and for a split second you saw what that girl who made a big show of asking him out saw. A handsome boy, whose eyes weren’t as sharp as you initially thought. You blushed and looked away towards your car. 

“Okay…” You trailed off. “Do you have any friends you could go to?” You looked back up at him, his silence was an answer in itself. “My mom usually makes dinner around this time… I guess you could come with me?” You felt like that girl in the hallway suddenly more than ever. You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him, if he showed the slightest bit of discomfort you’d think of something else. But instead… he blushed, looking out towards your car.

“Okay.” He said simply, voice soft and low. 

“Okay?” You questioned.

“Okay… please take me home-… with you.” You both blushed this time.

Your mom wasn’t home, you were actually pretty thankful. The last boy you had brought home to her had left your house in tears and stopped speaking to you at school. You were mad at first but later found out he was texting multiple girls while seeing you. You asked your mom then if she had any idea and the older woman had just shrugged her shoulders and claimed, ‘he just seemed weak and not fit for my little girl’. She’d probably saved you from a lot of heartbreak. 

You pulled Rin in through the front door and kicked it closed behind you, helping him towards the living room. You helped him to the couch and sighed an exhausted breath when you lost his added weight. 

“Here,” You said as you helped him prop his ankle on the coffee table, placing a pillow underneath it so it was elevated. “I’ll get some ice.” You said, pushing to your feet. 

“Wait, Y/n?”

“Hm?” You hummed, pausing in the doorway towards the kitchen.

“Uh… thank you… for your help.” He said and once again you watched the poor boy blush. You gave him a soft smile, nodding your head as you disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later you were back by his side, doting on him for reasons you did not want to understand. You help the ice pack on his ankle and bite back a laugh at his red face. What was he so nervous about? He spied that reaction.

“What’s funny?” He asked as you met his eyes, shrugging. 

“Nothing.” You answered simply. “Want something to eat?”

“I’m okay.”

“Drink?” 

“N-no thank you.” 

“I could fetch a blanket, or maybe turn on a movie.”

“Just your company is fine.” He answered before his brain could stop him. You raised a brow at him and watched that pretty face turn even more red. 

“Just my company is fine?” You teased.

“Please stop talking.” He sighed, hand over face. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” You obliged, leaning back on the couch beside him, balancing the ice pack on his ankle. It was quiet for a moment but surprisingly it wasn’t uncomfortable. “...Why didn’t you wanna go home?” You cautioned, he could very easily shut your question down but… he didn’t.

“My brother’s back from college for a bit.” He answered. You knew his brother, a big shot soccer guy, played for japan.

“Oh?” 

“He’s… good at what he does. Too good. He used to practice everyday. From 5:30 to 10 pm.”

“Just like you.” You smiled, rolling your head to face him as he spoke. You thought he was reminiscing but he looked… sad. 

“Sae never got hurt. He could practice for hours and not work up a sweat.”

“Yeah… he’s good. I watched a few of his matches with my cousins. They’re big fans.” You said, Rin turned, insistent eyes meeting yours. “What?”

“What do you think?” He asked, his eyes searching your face. You raised your brows.

“About what?” 

“Sae.” He said, there was sadness in his eyes. A deepness to his words that you didn’t understand. You pouted slightly in thought.

“Hm… I… I think he’s good? I honestly don’t know too much about him.” You responded. His eyes were expectant of something you were unsure of. “The girls in school like him.”

“Oh.. And you?” He asked a little too quickly to sound natural. Something clicked then. He was… jealous? No… no that couldn’t be it. 

“Honestly?” You asked as Rin immediately nodded his head, he really needed to know your answer. “Not a fan of red heads.” You shrugged, not exactly true, you had nothing against them but you couldn’t exactly say that Sae seemed like a stuck up prick. Or maybe you could because the genuine, albeit, small smile that spread across Rin’s face was surprising. He chuckled, it was a warm sound that filled your chest. 

“Is that so?” He murmured as you smiled, giggling. “What is your type then?”

“Hm…” You trailed off, pretending to think. “Blondes.” You teased and laughed when Rin’s smile turned into a small pout. “I’m joking… I don’t really have a- mhm!” His lips cut off your sentence, you hadn’t noticed how close you two had drifted as you spoke. You hadn’t thought about what the boy's lips felt like until this very moment as his lips pressed against yours, his hand sliding desperately on your face, thumb stroking your cheek as his hand rested on your jaw. At this very moment there wasn’t much going through your mind. It was confusing but warm, shocking but your insides were twisting and fluttering as the kiss deepened and his hand slid past your face into your hair. Your hand feebly gripping the front of his shirt as the front door cracked open. You jolted back away from Rin, wide eyed and blushing, the same expression reflected on Rin’s face.

“Honey, you home?” Your mom called out from the front entrance. 

“Yeah!” You called out shakily, forcing some room between you and Rin. “I’m in the living room… my-- my friend was hurt at the park so he’s here too.”

“He?” Your mom echoed as your heart felt right into your stomach. You pushed to your feet, rushing towards your mom. She gave you a strict look. “You have a boy over? Alone?”

“It’s not… like that. He-- Mom he sprained his ankle.” You explained as your mom raised her brow as if to say ‘so what?’.”Please… please don’t embarrass me. Nothing was happening.” You whispered back imploringly. Your Mom squinted her eyes as she pushed past you to the living room.Sure enough Rin sat there, the blush on his cheeks still apparent. You hoped she wouldn’t notice.

“Sorry, Miss… my brother’s on his way to pick me up. I’ll be out of your hair.” Rin answered. You lips parted in silent protest as your Mom huffed. 

“It’s fine. You sure you're okay?” She asked as you breathed out a sigh of relief. Rin nodded his head. 

When Sae showed up you helped Rin to the front door, you reached for the handle but Rin barely grabbed your hand, making you give pause. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you… like that. I’m sorry.” He said, eyes on the floor. You pursed your lips, brows furrowing. 

“Like that? So you had another way planned?” You asked as his cheeks pinkened in an instant, even his ears turned red. 

“What? N-no.” He stuttered. Where was the cool, suave boy that hurt that girl in the hallway over a week ago? He was a blushing stuttering mess around you and had been like that since the parking lot.

“I’m just teasing.” You smiled, but he hadn’t let go of your hand and your mom had gone upstairs for bed and the way he was looking at you right now was the same way he looked at you earlier before planting one on you. You felt your heart speed and wondered if your face was gradually matching the same blush ratio as his. He looked away.

“There’s… a park closer to my house.” He stated.

“Hm?”

“God… this is embarrassing.” He sighed, swallowing and gently biting his bottom lip. “There’s a park closer to my house but I… like the park you go to better.”

“That’s… nice, Rin.” You said confusedly, not following this one bit. Rin sighed frustratedly. 

“I like it better because… because I get to see you. Only if it’s for half an hour.” You sucked in a breath.

Oh.

Oh.

He liked seeing you. If only for half an hour. He turned that girl down in the hallway because he liked seeing you. He caught your eyes in the hallway because you caught him staring without even realizing it. He kissed you. This entire time… Rin Itoshi had a fat… major crush on you and you were none the wiser. The poor boy probably wasn’t trying to be an asshole when you offered him help earlier he was probably embarrassed out of his mind, Then when you offered to take him home with you and he blushed like a schoolgirl. And just your company was fine? Yeah… it sure was fine. Probably more than fine. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Rin asked and you felt bad because you had let him stew for a few probably long seconds as everything dawned on you. 

“You have a crush?”

“I… I--,” He stuttered, obviously embarrassed. “Yeah…” He sighed, resigned to his fate. “I do.”

“Wow. That’s… cute.” You laughed. His eyes snapped to yours, defensiveness in his posture.

“It is?” He questioned. 

“Yeah. It’s cute. I mean we… barely know each other. Today was probably the most we’ve spoken in the last three months.”

“I know…” He said, a sickeningly sad look on his handsome face. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have kissed you… I shouldn’t have-”

“Hush.” You chirped. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” That shut him right up. “I’m just saying… we don’t know each other that well… but I didn’t say it couldn’t change, did I?” You looked up at him and he nodded at your words.

“Practice with me.” He said suddenly.

“What?”

“When my ankle heals, I could teach you some soccer.”

“That’s how you're going to ask me out?” You asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“I think you’d be good at it.” He recovers slightly. “If you beat me in a game I’ll take you out.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed at his audacity. He’s the one who was crushing on you! And he wanted you to play for his affection?

“I am.” He smirked and Christ did that little action make your heart skip a beat.

~

You’d forgotten what it felt like to feel your heart in your throat, to feel it skip a beat. To feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Here,” You handed Rin his tea as he warmed by the fire. 

In hindsight seven months wasn’t the longest but he was your first relationship. Your first love. You knew after four months. Knew after he let you beat him in a practice match when you scored the final goal and he rushed to you, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around until you were dizzy and giggling only sitting you back down to press and even more dizzying kisses to your lips. But after six months his practices were getting longer. Some nights he’d be out there until midnight. You had once found him passed out on the field after his mom had called you and asked you where he was. It scared the shit out of you. That was your first fight. He was consumed, not with soccer, but with being better than his brother. He’d lost sight of the game he loved and had twisted into a game of jealousy. He didn’t like hearing that from you. Didn’t like that you saw right through him. You drove him home that night and he didn’t speak to you for almost an entire day. A rock in the road that seemed insistent. You tried to move past it, you loved him. But when he missed your birthday dinner, where he was supposed to meet your entire family, you decided it was better to let him be. Let him do what he said he really loved to do. But really he was just running himself ragged in the pursuit of bettering himself to challenge his brother. You weren’t really the type to settle for second best and you wouldn’t let something like this grow out of control. You wouldn’t let yourself fall any deeper because then you’d just be lost. A lost fool chasing after another lost fool.

“Thank you.” Rin replied softly, his cold hands crushed yours as you passed the cup to him. He looked… different. Bigger, like he’d somehow grown another inch or so. His hair was a bit longer, his eyes tired as they stared into the fire. You almost reached out to him, almost ran your hand through his hair. It always calmed him before. But that wasn’t your thing anymore. He wasn’t yours to care about. “You leave monday?” He asked as you swallowed, taking a seat a foot or so away from him.

“Yeah. Mom’s dropping me off.” 

“That’ll be a mess.” He remarked. You almost laughed. He knew your mom, he knew she’d be a mess the entire drive to the airport. Just like she’d been for the past few months after you graduated. She was proud to say the least.

“Rin,” You sighed. “Why’re you here?”

“I didn’t come to mess things up further, if that’s what you're thinking.” He sipped his tea before setting it down.

“It’s too late for an apology.”

“It’s never too late.” He rejoined but you shook your head.

“In this case it is.” You sighed tiredly. “You can say what you want but… don’t expect anything.”

“I didn’t come here to make myself feel better. I came here for you.” He implored, his tone switching from tired and defeated to beseeching. “I… should’ve never gotten involved with you.”

“That is a horrible fucking apology.”

“Let me finish, Y/n.” He sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I... I knew how insanely driven I was. I knew and I still chased after you. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess. I should’ve let you be but instead I was… I was selfish. I always have been when I came to things I wanted. And god… Y/n… I wanted you more than anything else.”

“Rin, come on. Let’s be truthful. You may have wanted me but not more than anything else. Not more than being better than Sae.” You cut in as Rin’s eyes darted away from yours. You thought about the few times you got into it with Rin’s older brother after Sae carelessly put him down. What a wasted effort. 

“I entered this competition, called Blue Lock.” Rin said suddenly. You sighed.

“I know. I heard. You mom still texts me.”

“I was top in the competition. I was picked to play against my brother. The games tomorrow.”

“You better not be asking me to come.”

“I dropped out.” You sucked in a breath, your brows immediately going up, your lips parted in surprise.

“You…what? You dropped out?”

“Uh huh.” He confirmed. “I joined Blue Lock to prove I was better than my brother but over time I found myself not really even thinking of him but… of you. I worked harder and harder to punish myself for losing you. I thought if I could make it to the end… be the best striker, win the trophy, that losing you wouldn’t have been for nothing. But I was only at my best when I had you. And I don’t mean my best on the field, I mean my best as a person.” Rin turns to you, he reaches for your hands and you let him take them. “I loved soccer once but I lost it. I never stopped loving you, not even for a second. You were never second, I was just an idiot. I’m not expecting you to forgive me because I don’t deserve it… but I just had to let you know.”

“You just had to let me know.” You echo, sighing into your cup. “Seriously Rin, I despise you.” Rin’s eyes cut to you as you place your cup on the floor. He watches you closely, your words hurt him clearly. 

“I know… I’m sorry-”

“Hush.” You say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him against your lips. He gasped against your lips, surprised but soon second hand nature set in and his hands were sliding over your hips and drawing you closer to him. He didn’t need an explanation, he'd settle for anything little scraps you’d give him. “I’m gonna need much more groveling by the way. You broke my heart.” 

“I beg on my hands and knees for your forgiveness.” He breathed out against your lips sending shivers down your spine.

“Go on then.” You encouraged and although he hated the idea of unlatching from your kiss he moved to his knees in front of you, gently taking your hand. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

“Please… please forgive me for being a massive fucking idiot.” He begged, voice soft like the fire glow that caressed his face. Your stomach twisted, it was a feeling you thought you’d never feel again. 

“If you hurt me again that’ll be the last time, Rin.” You caution as Rin swallows, nodding his head. He understood, but there wouldn’t be another time, he wouldn’t squander this chance. “It wouldn’t even be me that you’d have to worry about it’d be-”

“Your mom.” Rin shivers at the thought. You laugh at that and Rin almost sobs, he didn’t think he’d hear that ever again, let alone see that soft loving smile on your face. You stood suddenly, stretching. 

“Alright, let’s go.” You said as Rin blinked up at you in surprise. 

“What?”

“What? You think I’m just gonna let you throw away all your hard work? Fuck that.” You said, brushing past him as he pushes to his feet. 

“Y/n… What’re you-”

“The game. I’m not letting you drop out, Rin.” You said over your shoulder as you marched towards your room to get changed. You had a long drive ahead of you if you were going to get Rin to the stadium before tomorrow. Rin’s spending fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. 

“I dropped out, baby, I can’t play.”

“Your team needs you. You can’t let them down.” You said as Rin’s face softened. “Plus,” You pulled him to you. “I wanna see you play.”

“You do?”

“Uh huh.”

“And what if I’m shit? What if we lose?”

“It won’t change a thing, Rin.” You say, bringing him down to meet your lips. 

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips as you smiled into the kiss. 

“I know. Now get in the damn car."

[24hlevi]

— THE IDOL

itoshi rin x male!reader

summary: y/n is a famous pop idol, and rin is his biggest fan. what happens when y/n announces his brand new album "mood swings in this order" along with a tour to be held later in the year? surely, nothing too bad. right?

warnings/tags: language, nsfw implications (cum is said)

wc: 2.6 k

chapter one of the PAPARAZZI series

Being a pop star was difficult at times. From dealing with promotions, tours, and interviews, to crazy fans, trolls, and stalkers. But, none of that fazed you. Should it? Compared to some other idols, you went through a bit more than others, purely because of you embracing your sexuality in both the romance aspect and the performance aspect. You weren't afraid to do crazy concepts that would make fans turn and hate on the idol immediately. You definitely weren't afraid to express how you liked men, and while that may have caused a ruckus during your debut, it all worked out in the end somehow.

At the current moment, you were doing a photo shoot for your new album that you were soon to release the first single for. You had been taking photos for at least two hours, and you were getting irritated by the photographer telling you to do the same pose you’d already done fifteen times. After one last shot, you clasped your hands together.

“Can we take ten?” You said it loud enough for everyone to hear.

Murmurs of yes and thank gods came from the staff at your words, and everyone immediately split off into different areas of the house. With a sigh, you got up off the bed and walked outside where the balcony was, looking down at your backup dancers practicing the routine.

“So, how do we feel about the shoot, Y/n?”

You turned your head to see your assistant and best friend, Mikage Reo standing beside you. “Well, I’ve been taking the same photos for hours, how would you feel?”

Reo chuckled and nodded. “I know.” He followed your gaze towards the dancers before speaking more. “How do you feel about the choreo? Is it too hard? Do I need to make any adjustments? Do you not like any of the backup dancers?”

“Reo,” You said, placing both your hands on his shoulders. “Everything is fine, I swear. As long as things don't go shitty, everything will work out amazingly.” You reassured him.

Reo sighed and nodded again. “I guess,” he said. “I just want this album to be your biggest yet, and that's what Anri wants as well. She’s been super stressed recently trying to put all this together.”

“I understand,” You acknowledged, removing your hands from his shoulders. “But everything is going to be fine, stop worrying so much.”

“Okay,” He sighed again and nodded.

Meanwhile, your manager, Anri was dealing with a big problem with some of the other staff.

“What the fuck do you mean?” The woman spat out angrily at their social media manager.

“Look,” They handed Anri the phone.

She looked at the picture and her eyes went wide. “Has this hit the public yet?”

“Yes.”

“Shit,” Anri cursed, handing the phone back. “We have to tell him.”

“Are you serious?” The social media manager looked at her with shock. “What if it causes a breakdown of some kind?”

“He can deal with it. Follow me.” Anri told them, starting to walk to where you and Reo were.

“Y/n!” Anri called your name. “We have a big problem!”

You and Reo both turned to look at Anri speed walking towards you two, making you look at her in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“This.” Anri shoved the photo in your face. “What the hell were you thinking going to a club with Ryusei and having this happen?!”

Looking at the photo, your eyes widened at the image. “I thought- he told me he deleted it!” You defended.

“And you believed him?!” Anri exclaimed. “Y/n, this is already trending on all social media, and not in a good way. You and Ryusei are not together. But now that everyone has seen this image, it's chaotic. His management isn't responding and either we have to say it's not real or you admit it and we pray this doesn't fuck anything up. So what do you want to do?”

“I guess I should admit-”

“We’ll say it's fake,” Reo cut you off before you could finish, making you look at him with confusion. “This will damage everything if we say that it's real. Can you imagine what the public will think? How are we supposed to hold a tour when they have seen someone's fucking cum on his face?”

“It’s not like Ryusei is some stranger,” You said.

“It’s still not good, Y/n,” Reo replied. “We have to say it’s fake, and hope his management says the same thing.”

“This is the best decision, Y/n,” Anri told you. “This also means you cannot see Ryusei anymore, he is going to damage your whole career if you go out with him again. Do you understand?”

You felt cornered. It was rare for Reo to take this kind of side in things, and it made you feel like you were being cornered into doing what they thought was best. While, usually they were right in matters like this. It was like you had no real control over anything anymore. With a short nod, you responded. “I understand.”

“Good, now get back to finishing the shoot while I figure out how to deal with this,” Anri said before walking back inside the house.

As soon as Anri was out of hearing distance, Reo quickly turned to you. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What?” You asked, looking back at him. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You look like a whore!” Reo whisper-yelled to you. “Do you understand that? This is not good! Ryusei is going to ruin this whole album! You need to stop seeing him!”

You stared at your friend in slight shock. Yet, you knew he was right. Consistently time after time again Shidou Ryusei has done something to fuck over your reputation leaving you to rebuild it again and again. But, you couldn’t stop seeing him. It was hard. But, you had to stop now. “Okay,” You said quietly, nodding your head.

“Now let’s get back to the shoot,” Reo said, grabbing your arm and pulling you along with him back inside the house.

You sat back down on the bed, adjusting your robe as the photographer came back and stood in front of the bed. You stared at the camera with what they later called a “killer look” that you should’ve had from the very beginning in your debut album. But, they didn’t understand what that look really meant. Not even Reo, who had been your best friend since you two were in middle school. They said the distant look in your eyes was perfect for the album, but they didn’t realize that this was going to end up being just the beginning of things. It was just that no one knew it yet. Not even you.

…

“Y/n, wake up,” Reo’s voice woke you up as he opened the curtains of your room.

You groaned lightly, covering your face with your hands as Reo sighed, walking over to you.

“Come on, you have to get up. We have to talk with PR,” He said, handing you a cup of coffee.

“Oh, great,” You mumbled, sitting up and taking the coffee from him. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Not yet,” Reo shook his head. “Ryusei’s management finally responded an hour ago.”

“What did they say?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee after.

“Well, they are with us on saying the picture was fake,” Reo started. “Which is good, but…”

“But?” You tilted your head to the side.

“But, they also want to say it’s for your concept of this album,” Reo finished.

“What?” You questioned.

“Anri already told them how terrible of an idea that is so hopefully that won’t happen. But, it’s obvious Ryusei is trying to work his way around things. You must not let him, do you understand?” Reo told you.

You nodded your head slowly. “I understand.”

“Good, now get up.”

…

After finishing the long meeting with your PR team, you were finally able to go back home. You sat at the pool with a drink in your hand, sunglasses on with your eyes closed when you heard footsteps approach you.

“Yo! Y/n!”

You opened your eyes and turned your head to see your best dancer for your career so far, Hyoma Chigiri. “Chigiri! What’s up?” You replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“Do you wanna go out tonight?” Chigiri asked you. “There’s this new club I checked out last week and it was killer. You should come with me tonight.”

“Will Ryusei be there? I’m not really allowed to hang around him anymore.” You said, stirring the straw around in your drink.

“Nope,” Chigiri shook his head. “But who knows! Maybe you’ll meet someone better.” He smiled.

“True,” You acknowledged with a nod. “Sure, why not?” You eventually answered.

“Awesome, I’ll be here at 8 to pick you up then,” He said, patting your bare shoulder before walking away.

You hummed shortly in response, waving your hand and taking a sip of your drink. Hopefully, this would be nice for you. If not, it at least couldn’t hurt to go out with your friend. You finished your drink in another sip and set it down beside you, putting your arms behind your head as support and closing your eyes again.

…

Chigiri showed up a little late, which you didn’t mind since you weren’t even ready in the first place. You put your shoes on and heard your phone buzz, making you look at it to see Chigiri’s message that he was there. You put your phone in your pocket and left your house, immediately spotting the car near the front gate and you hurried towards it, the cool air freezing through the light materialized shirt you were wearing.

You opened the door and climbed inside the car, seeing Chigiri and he smiled at you.

“Hey! Looking good,” He said to you.

“You too,” You responded, putting the seatbelt on. “So, where’s this place at?”

“Only where the best clubs are,” Chigiri answered, pulling out of your driveway and back onto the road.

“Awesome,” You said, leaning your head against the headrest.

By the time you two arrived, it was half past nine, and the club had just opened at nine. When you stepped out of the car, your eyes squinted at the bright neon lights saying the name of the club that you were unable to read.

“Come on,” Chigiri grabbed your arm and pulled you inside with him.

You were immediately met with the loud booming music and neon lights, making you look around in awe at the place. “This place looks wicked,” You said.

“It is,” Chigiri answered, pulling you along more to get drinks.

While waiting for the drinks, you felt eyes on you. You turned your head to see a man staring at you. He quickly looked away once you noticed his gaze on you, and you watched as one of his friends started talking to him. You looked away when the drinks arrived, and Chigiri took his and went off somewhere, leaving you alone at the bar. You took a sip of the drink and made a sour face.

“Not your taste?”

You turned your head at the voice, seeing the male who was staring at you now standing in front of you. “Not really,” You shook your head. “I like harsher drinks.” You answered.

“Hey! Rufio!” The man called for the bartender, who hurried over to you two. “Get this lovely man here a new drink. Let’s say, a double jack and coke?” He said, glancing over at you for confirmation.

“Yeah, that works,” You nodded your head.

The bartender quickly made the new drink and handed it to you. You took a sip and looked at the male in front of you. “You can sit, if you want,” You offered, gesturing to the chair.

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to dance,” He said.

“Ah,” You let out. ‘Well, I usually like a drink or two before dancing.”

“But-”

“Hey!” A voice echoed throughout the club.

The man looked away from you and at the younger male approaching the two of you at a fast-paced walk, and he looked terrified.

“What the fuck did I say about you coming back here, huh?!” The younger male exclaimed when he finally reached you two, smacking him in the face.

“I-I’m sorry! I th-thought-”

“Thought what? Get the fuck out!” The male kicked the older man a few times, watching him scurry away.

You stared at the new male in front of you with shock on your face, not knowing entirely what the hell just happened. When he looked at you, his face dropped, making you look at him confused.

“Uhm, do I know you?” You asked politely.

“No,” He shook his head. “But, I know you.” He answered. “You-You’re L/n, Y/n.”

Ah. A fan, great. “Don’t tell anyone, please,” You said quietly, holding your finger up to your lips. “I really just wanted a night out with my friend.”

“I won’t say anything,” He quickly shook his head. “I’m Rin,” He held his hand out to you.

“Nice to meet you, Rin,” You shook his hand.

“Do you maybe wanna dance?” He asked.

Looking at your drink, you took another big sip and set it down, nodding your head and standing up. “Sure.”

Rin grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to the main dancefloor. His hand let go once you both were in the middle of everyone, starting to dance to the electronic music blasting throughout the club. You generally weren’t one for electronic music but you didn’t mind it at the current moment. You felt hands wrap around your waist from behind and a body press against you, turning your head to see Rin towering over you while behind you. His gaze was stuck on you as he moved against you to the rhythm of the music.

He leaned down to your ear and quietly whispered. “Is that your friend over there?”

You followed his eyes to where Chigiri was talking to someone else and started walking towards the exit, and you nodded. “Yeah,” You said.

“Looks like he’s ditching you,” Rin spoke quietly. “Is he your ride?”

You nodded again.

“Hm,” Rin hummed, his hands gripping your sides tightly. “How about you let me take you home?”

You looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and shock. “What?”

“You have no way home now, right?” Rin asked. “You can’t get an Uber cause of your status, and I’m the only one who knows a famous idol is in my club right now. So, I say you have no other choice.”

You stopped dancing by now, his hands keeping you in place as you thought. He was right in all sorts of ways. You couldn’t afford to let anyone else know that you were here, and who knows what would happen if someone took a picture of you out clubbing just after the issue with Ryusei? You were stuck. “Okay,” You nodded.

“Come on,” Rin said as soon as you spoke, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the club through the back entrance where his car was.

You followed him out to the back, mentally praying that you wouldn’t die on this ride back to your house as he opened the passenger side door for you. You hesitated for a split second before getting in the car, letting Rin close it behind you. He got in a few seconds after and started the car.

“So, what way to your house?”

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[kitorin]

LOVE ALL PLAY. - ITOSHI RIN

FOUR - SARDINES AND DEBT SARDINES.

contents. unproofread , reader is unhinged ( some dark humour , but i've said much worse tbh ) , written at the time of the 2024 thomas cup so there's stuff about that , sexual humour once again but really subtle

The chime of the bell finally announces break, your sign to finally sit up and to stop napping. With a groan or two accompanied by a groggy yawn, you stretch and you swear something in your back cracks. Multiple times.

“Shut up already, will you?”

Rin grumbles, and even from your peripheral vision you can notice him scowling while shoving everything in his pencil case with an odd fury.

Another yawn claws itself out of your throat, your insolence amplifies it, the exaggeration earns an annoyed but entertaining glare from Rin, and a cheeky grin from you. He doesn’t say anything, his chair yelling as it’s dragged along the floor when he leaves.

“Where are you going?” You intercept his path, pushing your chair backwards too.

Rin walks sideways, slipping between the back of the classroom and your chair. “Bathroom.”

“Can I come?” His features scrunch up in disgust, an amused sneer pounces on your lips as he stalks away with a firm ‘no’.

“Bye bye~” To which, Rin points up the middle finger towards you without so much of a glance, and soon he disappears out the classroom door along with other students.

You gaze remains on him until he’s completely out of view, then it’s rediverted to the bag resting under Rin's table.

With ease, the zip exposes its contents, you scoff to yourself while making use of this opportunity.

His money that he (tried) to pay back makes its return to his possessions, into a random pocket which held nothing but tissues and a box of mints. There goes his two thousand yen.

What part of ‘it’s my treat’ did he not get? You’ll acknowledge his timing and how he managed to slip the money into your bag without you noticing; maybe even applaud him, but if you say you’re paying, then you’re paying.

“Um.” Isagi approaches you, greeting you with the slight tug of your sleeve. “l/n, what are you doing to Rin’s bag.”

The worry on his face tells you that you’ve behaved too suspiciously (a fair reaction, you just snooped into another’s bag). “Givin’ Rin his money back.” Hands go up in the air, opened. “Don’t worry, I’m not stealing shit from anyone.”

To this, Isagi sighs with relief, his features relax into a polite smile. “Sorry for suspecting you.” You wave it away, leaning on your desk. “Speaking about money, I need to pay you back too.”

His hand digs around his pocket, but you interfere, placing yours on his wrist. “No you don’t.”

“But—”

“Shhhh.” A finger goes on his lip. “Pay me back with your time, I’ll be spending the money.” The wink was the cherry on top, and you swear Isagi goes pink.

“I knew you said you were acquainted with y/n, but not in that way.” Anri observes from behind Isagi, who yelps and immediately waves his hands.

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” You swallow a giggle, almost trembling from amusement. Anri still gazes at him with doubt, but nods anyways.

“I just came up here to ask you about how soccer’s been going. Coach wanted me to ask you about anything you wanted to improve on.”

Aaaand that’s your queue to leave. “I’ll see you later ‘ichi! I’ll leave you guys to it.” You skip out of the room, leaving a flustered Yoichi explaining the situation to a confused Anri.

Rushing past people and down the stairs (and barely dodging Yukimiya, who was carrying a large stack of books precariously), you make your way to class B, where Hiori resided. He’s your victim for today.

You peek through the open sliding door, and immediately met with a disgusted look from him.

“Do you sprint here or something?” He opens his lunchbox. “Don’t you have other friends to bother?”

A chair groans loudly as you drag it across the floor. “You’re my favourite.”

Hiori deadpans. “Great. What an honour.”

“Have you been watching highlights?” You unwrap your own lunchbox, noticing how Hiori had rested his phone against his pencil case.

"Yeah." Hiori turns his phone and its temporary stand towards you.

"You should've stayed up to watch it with me." Watching games live with Hiori was always a blast, screaming at the TV together through a phone call and placing bets (which consisted of free passes to yell at each other). But with Hiori insisting that he has to sleep more, you refrained from talking about the results. "I mean, you'd make it to school even if you slept in."

He unplugs his headphones, stuffing them into the pocket of his trousers. "I was exhausted. I would've passed out midway as well."

"I didn't even tell you about that—"

"You didn't have to. You sounded like you were going to drop dead during Malaysia and Japan's match last night."

"My bed was comfortable."

Hiori sighs as he gets out his chopsticks out. "Sure buddy." He frowns. "Maybe I should stay up next time. First result on youtube spoiled the result for me."

"Seeee?" China had emerged victorious, 3-1, a shame since the two of you were cheering on for Malaysia, after they defeated Japan the previous night.

"Was each game at least close?"

"Not really. In the singles games Lee Zii Jia seemed to struggle, and Leong was close in the first set." It was a shame, especially when Lee had been playing so well the night before, and was close to winning the first set. You also swore you noticed a point of his not being counted, but with Shi Yuqi's significant advantage, realistically, it wouldn't've made much of a difference. "I passed out for Goh and Izzuddin though."

Hiori shoots you a glare, one that screams I told you so.

"Shi Yuqi plays so well...even if Lee Zii Jia was in his best form I doubt it would've been easy." Hiori keenly watches his phone. "Makes sense because he's second in the world but wow."

You nod. "I should watch more of his games."

Watching full matches had never occurred to you, you viewed highlights and compilations of the sport's best shots, but watching the full game seemed like a hassle. You followed Coach's recommendation, and enjoyed it much more than expected.

The two of you watch in silence, while eating, as Shi Yuqi's score rose rapidly. "Shame they didn't add the part with his abs." Hiori chokes on his rice, coughing and gulping down tea from his water bottle.

"They're very nice abs." You add on, as if clarification was really necessary.

Hiori finally swallows, hand on his throat just to be sure. "We were told to watch professionals to learn. I don't think you're learning."

"I'm learning of this man's beauty. Besides there's no harm in appreciating how hot these people are as well."

"You only use 'as well' when you do both things."

"I did."

He doesn't seem to mind when you pull out your phone and vigorously type. "Name at least one takeaway then."

"Aim at the opponent's dominant side's hip."

The video gets paused. "You already do that."

"Not as well as the pros do." Your thumb eagerly taps the right constantly, in search of the point you were searching for. "I hit in the right side, but at the body or between the arm and hip is better."

"At least you learnt something." He mumbles.

You turn off your phone, placing it under your bottom lip and letting it rest there. "There was also how easy it is for someone to break."

Curiosity blooms across his features. "What do you mean?"

"When we played Malaysia, Nishimoto was in first singles against Lee Zii Jia."

"Right."

"And he didn't do that well. At first I thought it was just a significant difference in skill. But he's only one rank below him, and I saw a reel the other day and he only lost a set by two points and won the next one."

Hiori nods, letting you continue.

"He must've been flustered. And the next game Lee Zii Jia played the same thing happened to him. I guess Shi Yuqi was a lot higher ranked but y'know. There were a lot of shots I swear he could've returned. And in previous games even when he lost he was still close."

"I guess the same thing happened. Being nervous and losing confidence during a match. It's the sort of thing you'd only get through experience too. Or having a therapist that specialises in sports psychology." He absentmindedly plays with his rice, gathering the final bits into one bite. "There was a lot of pressure too, quarter and semi finals. Not to mention it's their career."

You nod, staring at the wooden floor.

"Why? Are you worried the same will happen to you?"

"I wanna do that to our opponents at national qualifications."

Hiori shoots you a disgusted look. "Oh my god you don't know how weird that sounds."

"What? The Stasi did that to political opposition and it worked—"

"Don't compare the fucking GDR secret police's psychological torture to a sport."

"Fine, fine—but my point still stands. If we can pull that off then it'll make stuff easier."

"We can talk to Coach about it. Also, did she tell you about the playing order?"

She hadn't. "Nope, what happened?"

Hiori sighs, as if it's difficult news. "We can't do doubles together."

"What do you mean??"

It comes out much louder than intended, as you stand up hurriedly and everyone turns towards the yell of your chair, almost capsizing. You mumble out a 'my bad' and an awkward slight bow.

"She wants to swap me and Nanase for first singles. Since he needs to focus on studying for college, and she reckons I can do well in singles as well." He counts off each member. "You're in first singles, Kurona's good at predicting stuff and setting up attacks, but he's struggling with offense. Kiyora's already doing third singles and only because he's the best option available. Nanase's done fine, he just wants to focus on getting into college so he asked to swap with someone."

Hiori also playing in singles simply means it's against the rules for the two of you to do doubles together.

"I see." It's been a dream for you to compete properly alongside Hiori, but there's nothing you can do about it, and you have plenty of opportunity as a first year. "It's fine, we have the next two years left."

"Yeah, we'll play together eventually. Plus, I'm looking forward to singles too. It's a win either way, Nanase can play and study and I get to learn more."

"Mhm, we're doing everyone else an honour."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We're the strongest. We should at least give others a chance before we go dominate the country."

Hiori blinks. "I can't believe you."

"C'mon, you know I'm right." You tease and prod, but deep down believe in. As long as Hiori's by your side, you feel as though nothing appears to be a challenge. "We'll give them a chance this year."

"I can't with you." But Hiori grins. "We'll win either way."

You nod, high fiving him in agreement. "Also, this is the highlight I was talking about." You had finally found the moment you were talking about, before discussing strategy; pointing the phone at him.

"Fine. He does look good though. Really good." You raise an eyebrow at Hiori staring for a bit too long, to which he shoos you away and mutters something about you influencing him negatively.

Why did I have to be separated from Hiori...?

You stare at the front without a thought, disappointed and still hungry (It's not your fault your mouth had better things to do), and dreading history. Your head goes back to rest on your arms, preparing for another long, nice nap before training.

"I thought you were a good student."

Rin comments, seating at his usual spot next you, a bit of sweat framing his face with his hair.

"I'm smart. There's a difference."

"A smart person would be listening."

"A smart person doesn't need to listen to a teacher waffle on about dead people and whatnot."

"There's more to history than dead people—" He's silenced by a familiar scold from the front.

"Itoshi, how many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?" You swallow down laughter, but don't bother concealing the proud grin on your face. "And y/n, you haven't even opened your book." Now it's Rin's turn to smirk.

"Sorry sir." Confident but not arrogant, you apologise, earning a mumble but sir returns to his lesson anyways. You'll do the bare minimum of pretending to take notes, you open up your textbook, then your pencil case. A two thousand yen note falls out.

You know exactly where this is from.

"Idiot."

"Fucking bastard." You mumble back.

You'd wrestle your way to his bag and shove it right back into his wallet, where it belongs, but with your teacher already sick of your shit you resort to something else.

With an annoyingly loud (but not too loud) rip, a page comes out of your notebook.

Take your fucking money you idiot.

its yours i owe you

I never said you needed to pay me back, did I?

and i never said i cared about that

I'm going to punch you.

sure have fun in detention and never competing

To be honest, he had you there.

You're a debt sardine.

Rin stares at your with disgust, as he continues to scrawl and pass the sheet to you. Quite aggressively, too.

what the fuck is that

Like a debt shark But reversed Since you keep thinking you're in debt And sharks are pretty fucking cool so you're not a reverse debt shark

Sardine isn't the right fish. At least those are yummy. If Rin were a fish he'd be dry, obnoxiously salty and bad for your skin (eating him would make you break out).

you sound like a kindergartener

And you sound like a debt sardine.

Rin's left fist tightens, lividly.

then your just a sardine no debt a miserable sardine

Of course he would. Of course Itoshi Rin would make such fatal mistake.

*you're just a sardine

He slams his fist against the table, and sir does the same with chalk against blackboard.

"Why are you like this?"

Hiori punctuates his words with light pants, whereas you don't find the breath to, thanking god for the final lap reaching it's conclusion.

"Not my fault he keeps trying to pay me." He gives you a moment to pant a bit. "I'm going to shove this right up his ass if he doesn't stop." As annoying as it is, bill remains in your pocket, you grip it from outside with frustration.

"You sound happy." Kurona murmurs. "I've never seen someone so insistent to not be paid back."

You grab him by the shoulders and gently shake him. "I told him it was my treat. It's not a treat if he pays me back."

Kurona agrees with a hum and a nod. "I guess that's irritating. At least you have good reason. Reason."

Kiyora peers over Kurona, doing a cross arm stretch with his racket in one hand. "It's a free two thousand yen. If you don't want it I'll have it." He eyes your pocket, and you instinctively turn your right thigh away.

"If I do anything other than return it then he wins—"

"Two thousand yen is two thousand yen."

"He called me a sardine—"

Kiyora doesn't counter, he's too busy stifling a laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah—"

"Whitebait suits you more. Sardines are too big for you."

He's lucky you don't have your racket, nor a shuttlecock. "Come here you little shit, you're only five centimetres taller." You lunge forward for a (gentle) kick but he dodges, delivering a flick to your forehead.

"Five centimetres is five centimetres. That's massive, no?"

Kiyora's fast, probably the fastest in the club. You counter it by pouncing on him. "Not even average."

He yells. "Coach, it's attacking me again."

"Kiyora, good luck fighting whitebait then." Coach Akiba doesn't bat an eye, checking if each net was set up correctly.

"Coach are you agreeing with him?" The betrayal. She's strict yet gets along well with everyone, but you never expected her to side with Kiyora.

"If it'll get you off of him yes, c'mon, you're here to practice. Go join wrestling if you want to jump on other boys." She calls everyone else other (in other words, Kurona, Hiori, and Nanase) and you release Kiyora.

"For someone so short you weigh so much..."

You shrug. "I like food."

"And I'd like it if you guys would shut up because I don't want to run anymore laps." Hiori says, not very quietly. "Hurry up you idiots."

Coach shoots a glare, that's more than enough for you and Kiyora to scramble towards everyone else.

"Right. Now that we're adjusting our playing order, we're going to get Hiori and l/n to try out different pairs." You and Hiori share a glance. "Play a set, write down who wins, then swap. I'll do drills with whoever's not on. Sounds good?"

Strong and united, a confident 'yes' echoes in the gymnasium.

"Hioriiiin I'm ready to off myself and go see jesus."

He ignores your whining, swallowing a large gulp of energy drink. "You're not even religious."

Hiori stares at you with disappointment, while you lie on the gym floor. You muster up the strength to roll over onto your stomach. "So it's you and Nanase, me and Kurona..."

You roll back around, sitting up and accepting a drink from Hiori's. "Called it. They're the most balanced options too."

Nanase's tactical and defensive style compensates for your impulsive offense, which makes up for his fear of risk taking. Getting into nationals should be in the bag, you cover Nanase's weaknesses and he covers yours.

The only worry is singles.

"Good job y/n, you did great. Great." Kurona pats your back, settling down next to you to stretch. "Summer really sucks, doesn't it? My hair feels all sticky 'n gross." He eyes his braid, holding it up with his fingers in disgust.

You lean forward to touch your toes. "You too, Kurona. I hate you for making me run so much though." The amount of trickshots he had under his sleeve was impressive, you'd sell a kidney to do them half as well as him, or at all. "Only two months until qualifiers start..."

"We'll be fine." Nanase joins the small circle of you, Kurona, and Hiori. "Haven't known ya long but ya improving a lot already."

"What are the opponents like?" Hiori pushes against Kurona's back after he asked. "How come our school's never been to nationals?"

"I've never been to qualifications. Before you two it was just the three of us."

"Actually?" You whip around to Nanase. "Then it's also Kurona's first time competing for a place at nationals."

Nanase nods. "Before Kurona there were a bunch of third years. They got close but Kamakura High beat them in semi finals."

"Are they the powerhouse of our province?" If that's the case then they would've went to nationals at least once in recent times. There should be something online to analyse if you dig around hard enough. You pirate plenty of shows, footage of national comps shouldn't be that bad.

"Exactly. We lost 3-2. Coach only put on the best members." Nanase takes off his headband, about to wring it out for sweat before deciding that'd be too gross for now. "There was a really good player that was my age though. He played in doubles, he's definitely going to be a big threat now."

"What his name, name?" Kurona pulls out his phone. "We could find something about him online."

"Ryuusuke? Ryuuji? It's been a while I've completely forgotten." Your senior scratches his head.

"Eh. We can ask someone else no?"

"y/n, ya know I'm the only person left from the club since three years ago."

Your jaw drops. "Actually?"

He nods. "Actually. I was the only first year that joined. That's why I was relieved that we just had enough to enter a competition thanks to you guys."

Silence prevails for a while. Kurona stares at god knows what in the distance and Hiori fiddles with his fingers. Nanase seems fine though, smile remaining without falter.

"Is our sport really that unpopular?" Hiori's brow furrows. "I know soccer and volleyball are massive but we only have the bare minimum. Which is like, crazy."

"And Kiyora had to go home early." Kurona adds.

"If we don't do well it'll be the end for us." You vocalise what everyone's been thinking, an uncomfortable truth. The school won't bother with a team that's barely counted as one and doesn't produce any results.

"That gives us more reason to train hard, doesn't it?" Nanase still grins without a sign of it fading soon. "Bare minimum or not I'm grateful to have you guys here, I want to the best we can for my upperclassmen's sake.

You slap your cheeks, to which Hiori flinches out of surprise. You jump to your feet. "Nanase's right, we have to make the most of what we've got. I'll destroy Kamakura High and that Ryuuji guy."

Nanase chuckles. "Pretty sure it was Ryusei."

"Ryusei's the energetic one on our soccer team." Hiori corrects. "But yeah, you're right. No point in sulking. Why'd you stand up to say that though?"

You shrug. "It just happened."

Hiori laughs, a giggle cascading into almost wheezing.

"Shut up." He doesn't, you're ready to tackle him.

"Oh, Coach!" Nanase waves to her, and never mind, tackling Hiori will be for another day. "Is everything okay?"

She hurries to where the four of you sat. "Just a couple of phone calls with other schools."

"About national qualifications?" You can't name anything else it could be, maybe joint training.

"You could say that." She glances at her watch. "I'll have to lock up soon, you all ready to go?"

"Yeah, we just finished with stretching." Everyone else nods in agreement, you stand up and they do the same. "Thank you for today."

"Good work today, take it easy and rest plenty on the weekend, okay? Get home safely."

"I don't like where this is going."

Hiori complains, but follows you to the classroom anyways.

"What are you on? Now is perfect. They're still in the middle of a practice match." And you're spot on, you can see them play from the window, tiny dots chasing around an even tinier dot; black and white blurring into grey.

Nanase and Kurona were long gone, going their respective ways while you went on your little side quest; returning the money.

"You look like you're trying to rob him." Yet here he is, accompanying you as you make your way to where you sit together. "You guys are lucky, the view's nice from here."

"Yeah but to look at the view I have to look at Rin, to look at Rin means to declare war against him." Rin had left his stuff on his table, so had Isagi, the muscular friend of Isagi and the hyper friend of Isagi (you never learnt their names).

Hiori nods, definitely to get you to shut up rather than out of understanding. "What's this?" He grabs the sheet of paper near the bottom of your desk, opening it. "Oh my."

Without looking up from Rin's bag, you reply. "That's what I was talking about. When he got yelled out then sent out."

"I can see why he's so angry all the time now..." Hiori skims through the 'conversation' you and Rin were having in class. "By the way, won't he know if you just put it into his bag again?"

"That's why." You pull out his lunchbox, wrapped in fabric. "I'll slip it into the fabric. So he won't notice until he gets home."

"Should I be impressed or disappointed at the amount of effort you put into this?"

You pack up Rin's stuff. "Disappointed. At Rin, not me." There you go, it's as if you never snooped around. "C'mon, let's get out of this place."

Hiori nods, readjusting the strap of his bag on his right shoulder in the hallway.

"Gimme that." Hiori tries to protest, but it's easy to take away from him. "My bag's lighter than yours anyways."

"But still—"

"Nope. You pushed yourself a lot during training."

"I wonder who's fault that was." You both know it was you; always aiming for any neglected areas of the court, forcing him to run and dive everywhere. You shrug, rushing ahead of him anyways. "Thanks though." He rolls his right shoulder a few times before catching up.

"No worries." It's not heavy, not remotely if it's for the sake of him. "By the way, didn't coach seem off today?"

"Yeah. But I'm not sure if I've known her long enough to make that sort of observation."

Good point, maybe you'll check with Nanase. "That's true."

"You look awfully happy." Hiori comments simply. "Was returning his money that important?"

"Nope! I just feel excited for qualifications. I mean we finally have a coach and have a team now. High school's so good."

It's thrilling, even if it's a bare necessity for any athlete it's a luxury in your eyes. Gourmet you've never tried, grandeur that you couldn't afford.

And there's Hiori.

You stare at the roof in awe, for no apparent reason; just caught up in fantasy. Scoring a beautiful match point and moving onto nationals, screaming in triumph and running into Hiori's arms. "I'm going to soar higher than ever and I get to do it with you."

"I like that." His pink lips curl into a smile, eyes squinting with joy. "We'll beat Kamakura High."

"Then to the nationals we go! Let's go get shaved ice today! We deserve it. Just because."

"Just because." Hiori echoes with a smile.

THREE | MASTERLIST | FIVE

pairing. itoshi rin x reader

synopsis. all itoshi rin ever wanted was a peaceful high school career, his plans go to ruin thanks to the school's badminton genius; entangling their lives—and emotions together.

contents. rivals to lovers, badminton player!reader, sports romance, fluff, high school au

a/n. malaysia v china has made me a shi yuqi fan (haven't watched him before but GOD DAYUM he's so cool and yes i'm projecting onto reader). also i tried to depict the kansai dialect the same way english manga does (idk what i'm doing)

taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz, @kaiserkisser, @httpshujii, @saesins , @yoimyas , @saetorinrin, @hxniplayz , @certaindreamchopshop , @rroxii , @jar-03m, @celestair , @satoruukisser , @kaitfae , @biaonww , @hellothere9597 , @its-ur-pillow, @saesofficialwife, @miyanaranagikenmal-intp , @popponn , @kascar-chronicle , @junberrry , @sereniteav , @raphsimp, @lectris00

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[boolittlebean]

POSER | blue lock v! x gn! reader

chapter 1: poser (pilot)

✎

Honestly, you really didn’t know why you were here. If you were to ask any of the other two hundred and ninety-nine boys in the same room as you, they could probably give you a pretty accurate answer of why they were there. You stared at the lanky man standing on the stage in front of you all, scrunching your nose in distaste.

        His hair needs some work, was the conclusion you came up with as you observed his awful bowl cut. The man kept ranting about football things you really didn’t care about—something about becoming the best striker in the world and being the last man standing. Thinking back, you remembered how you got into this situation in the first place.

        “Play for me, [name].” You stared blankly at your best friend of many years, wondering what on earth was going through his head. Your eyes drifted up and down his form, observing his body language for any sign he was joking around. He wasn’t.

        “And why exactly would I do that?” You raised a brow at him. “You know I could care less about football.” You raised your hand to your head, scratching it in a spot that had been itching for a while now.

        “Well, yeah, I know that… But, please hear me out, [name]!” [best friend] begged. Your eyes shifted to his expression, and you sighed, urging him to go on. “This… This is my dream! To become the best striker in the world, I’ve been working hard all my years of high school.” You couldn’t help but feel like he was being a bit overdramatic. “But…I can’t fulfill it anymore.” You knew why: just a day after he had gotten the letter, [best friend] had overworked himself and tore his ACL.

        You gripped the letter in your hand. “Even if I agree to this, how am I supposed to get by as you?” You questioned your friend, and he grinned.

        “Well, remember how people always believed me and you were twins?”

        You narrowed your eyes. “Yeah…” [best friend] smirked at your response.

        “Well, all you need is a few touch ups, and then you’ll be me!” You deadpanned, staring at him in disbelief. It’s not that easy, you groaned at his naiveness. You hesitated, taking a step back as [best friend] noticed your expression.

        “Please, [name], this is my dream, and whether I accomplish it or not, I don’t want it to go to waste. Do it for me?” You gave in the moment you saw tears in his eyes.

        You shook off the memory, glancing around at all the boys surrounding you. Your [e/c] eyes shifted, making contact with brown ones from across the room. The boy was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall with a video game console in his hands. You quickly shifted your eyes away, but you could still feel his stare on the back of your head.

        You decided to tune back in to the bowl-cut man standing in front of the huge doors. Man, can’t we just move on already? My legs are cramping up from standing here.

        Fortunately, your wishes were granted as the tall man—his name was Ego, how ironic—grinned at you all, announcing, “If you desire that rebellious egoism, then step through the gate!”

        Finally, you cheered to yourself before you took a step forward, and then another, until you were bolting through the crowd of people. I hope there’s somewhere to lie down when I get inside, you hummed to yourself as people jumped out of your way. You turned your head to the side, making eye contact with bright blue eyes. You sped past him, and you could faintly register his footsteps behind you as he sprinted after you.

…

        You were lost, you finally concluded, sighing at your own idiocy. After that pretty lady—what was her name again? —handed you your number, you completely zoned out, waddling around randomly. You huffed as you turned right at a corner, observing the corridor for any doors with your number labeled on them, brightening when you saw a glimpse of the letter you were looking for.

        Once you had approached the door, you tried your best to open the door quietly, only for it to screech when you opened it wide enough to step inside the room.

        Your eyes were met with a variety of different faces that all stared at you blankly. You stared back. “Well…” You glanced at the big screen with the giant egg headed man staring at you. “This is awkward.” You awkwardly shuffled to one of the lockers, opening one next to a tall boy with (emo looking) dark hair and bright green eyes. He side-eyed you for a second before stepping away.

        Am I that unpleasant to be around? You questioned your own worth as you quickly finished changing. Once you were done, you turned around with an expressionless face, only for the screen to switch slides as Ego declared, “Now, let’s play tag.” Before you knew it, a football had dropped straight onto your head.

✎

[all rights reserved to boolittlebean/theultimatebean/bxbblebxba]

[eclairsnme]

♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4

An introduction to the oldest sibling

you are a very popular idol in Japan (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵)

tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw

notes: well… being popular and also being the eldest of the Itoshi siblings, you are undeniably very dramatic, sassy and gorgeously demanding in every way.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•

“Why isn’t he answering my calls!”

You scowled and threw your phone across the room, scaring your manager in the process.

“C-calm down,” your manager scurried to pacify your tantrum.

Pouting cutely as Mr manager massages your back with nervous peals of laughter, you complained, “Does he not love me anymore?”

You just completed your commercial shooting for the day and were looking forward to surprising your cute youngest brother. Why? Well, it is obviously not because you are the most loving sister but because you saw Rin and this blue lock thingamajig on the news by chance٩( ᐛ )و .

It just hit you that you’ve never really stayed in contact with your family members being so busy with your line of work. Being popular is no easy task sigh suffering from success ✌︎('ω')✌︎.

So, seeing your youngest brother in the news instead of yourself prompted you to feign the “concerned-older-sister” role.

In your Versace heels, you sauntered towards the strewn phone. Very bothered and annoyed by how Rin is not picking up the call, you continuously and unyieldingly called him.

And finally, the call went through.

“Rin-”

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME?! STOP IT!”

Your eyes twitched, “and who are you supposed to be?”

“YOU ARE THE ONE WHO CALLED ME, AREN’T YOU SUPPOSE TO KNOW WHO I AM?”

*BEEP*

The stranger on the other side of the call aggressively put down the phone.

Oh… you got the wrong number. After years of having no contact with Rin obviously, he would have changed his number. Ehe ~

Blushing at your silly mistake, you gripped your phone and quickly dialled another saved contact which you know will definitely be the right number… hopefully ╮(╯▽╰)╭

As soon as you pressed the call button, the other side of the line quickly picked up the call.

“Sister.”

How you missed that deadpan voice that brought you butterflies to your stomach so much that it hurts.

“How can you be so heartless to your sister, Sae,” you dramatically whined at him, “but it flatters me that you picked up the phone so quickly. I think I just fell in love! Aren’t you in Spain right now?”

A quick calculation on Japan and Spain’s time zone, Sae should still be asleep right now. Was it because he is always waiting for his deadly gorgeous sister to call him\(//∇//)\?

But his next sentence brought you out of your delusion.

“I’m in Japan right now, didn’t you see my text?”

“Oh,” you managed to blurt out. You definitely did not see that text. (・・?)

“Why did you call? You rarely call,” Sae broke the silence with a fact.

Yes, a FACT that you never bothered to contact either Sae or Rin since pursuing your dream of becoming an idol at the tender age of 12 years young. It’s been years since you have spoken to them, therefore it’s a fact that you have been a very absent sister.

That does not mean you were not aware of the inner workings and happenings of the Itoshi household. Be it the brothers having some drama between them or Sae finding success in Spain or whatever. You have your own sources, it only depends on how fast or slow news reaches you, an example being the ever-so-elusive Rin.

You quickly cleared your throat and proposed, “Let's go on a date to catch up since you are in Japan!”

At the very corner of the room, Mr manager stumbled upon the very word “date”.

“That’s impossible,” Sae said word for word leaving you extremely astonished.

“Why?”

Sae mentally sighed at you —his sister. He always knew you weren’t the brightest star in the sky but he did not want to explain that you being the most popular idol in Japan and him being the best football player in Japan casually hanging out together in public despite being siblings is just a present for the media —literally making it Christmas for them.

He could already imagine the headlines.

“Are you embarrassed by your sister, Mr hotshot,” Sae's lips drew a line at your overly dramatic tendencies.

“No… let’s just not meet in public,” he tried to compromise.

There was a silence on the other side of the line until you spoke up, “Alright then, 12:30pm at my house.”

“Ok. When- ”

“Today.”

Sae looked at his watch: 11am. He didn’t really have any plans today too.

“Ok.”

“I’ll send you the location!” With that, you hung up the phone.

Yet again, Sae let out another long mental sigh. He got some explaining to do to his manager.

You on the other hand, mentally cheered.

Whatever you want, you got it. Talk about being extremely demanding — thank goodness your little brother was extremely compliant.

~

Hearing the doorbell ring, you wasted no time opening the door and embraced the person in front of you not caring about personal space.

Sae could only stand still hands still on each side of his body — stood rooted on the ground.

“You’ve grown so tall!” You took a good look at Sae. Oh, what a handsome young man he has grown into! You wondered how many girl's hearts he has broken with his devilish looks, especially with that deadpan expression of his.

“That goes the same for you too.”

That is true, you were above the average female height making companies want to hire you to be their model. Perfect body, perfect face — the perfect recipe for being the most popular idol! ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

“Don’t you miss your sister?” You smiled cheekily awaiting his response.

“Not really,” as expected from your younger brother.

“Don’t be so cold~ I prepared some of your favourite dishes.” You led Sae into the dining room. The table was filled with delivery food.

She must’ve rushed to order all these, Sae thought to himself.

Despite being a cold and arrogant football player, Sae still knows how to respect his elders. He sat on the chair and slowly helped himself.

“Eat up!” You cheered.

You took a sit in front of Sae eyeing him as he elegantly ate the food with the most immaculate posture.

The reason why you called Sae out or more accurately over to your house was to obviously get Rin’s number.

You could have easily gotten his number from your parents but before your brain could get to that idea, Sae was already in front of you. So uh why not just ask him. (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

You wouldn’t consider yourself stupid, and some people might even call you a bimbo oh the audacity, but that’s beside the point!!

“Do you have a girlfriend?” That was your way to break the ice. Ehe~ ✌︎('ω')✌︎

“No time for that.”

“Does Rin have a girlfriend?”

“Sister.” Sae stopped and eyed you.

“So does he?” Ignorance was a blessing so you keenly eyed Sae waiting for his response.

“…”

“Can I have his number then?” You shamelessly took out your phone and gave it to Sae not caring if he was uncaring or not.

To be honest, you weren’t too sure if Sae had Rin’s number due to their damn drama going on but part of you were confident Sae had it. After all, he’s an older brother to Rin.

And true enough, he did have Rin’s number. Sae took your phone and inserted Rin’s number without referring to his phone, meaning he knew his number by heart.

Oho~

You took back your phone and smiled, “what a good brother you are.”

Sae did not say a thing to that.

“So where are you staying while you are here in Japan?”

“Hotel.”

Hotel? Hmmm, you could finally be a good older sister if you allowed him to stay in your penthouse. That is right! What a great idea from my brilliant mind!

“Come stay with me,” you offered, or more like you demanded, “Don’t reject me please, Sae.”

You held both of his hands with a good grip and looked at him with your best puppy eyes that won the hearts of millions. No way he can say no right? PLEASE JUST SAY YES.

Sae wavered and thought about it. He would immediately leave after the U-20 Japan vs Blue Lock match, so it’s just a temporary adjustment.

“Ok.” He surrendered.

Plus, he could never win against his only older sister.

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Rin looked at the unknown number and decided to ignore the call.

“Who was that?” Isagi, who was beside him doing yoga, asked him.

“Unknown.”

“What if it’s someone or something important?”

“If it’s so important then I would already have the number saved already, no?”

-

“Rin-” you sobbed (crocodile tears ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ), “he really don’t care about me anymore…”

It’s nighttime, and you are in your silk pyjamas still trying to get through Rin to no avail. Sae who is on the sofa highly entertained, listening to your ruckus like it’s a soap opera.

Then it really dawned on you — the realisation that what if Rin really hates you. But you quickly dismissed the idea.

Nah no way~ Rin doesn’t even hate Sae. He’s just being a tsundere, plus, he’s still going through puberty!♪(´ε｀ )

You looked over to Sae and asked him, “How am I supposed to get close to cute little Rin Rin?”

Sae thought to himself about the upcoming U-20 Japan vs Blue Lock match. He was about to suggest to you to watch them play, however, he soon realised that you aren’t just a normal person — you, Miss Top Idol, watching a football match. Let that sink in.

-

-time skip-

Murmurs and excitement filled the stadium on match day.

Although it’s not summer, you dressed in all black — black fedora, black jacket, black pants, black sunglasses and black mask — it was a portable sauna. All that trouble to disguise yourself to not garner attraction.

Breathing heavily under the mask, your sunglasses began to fog up. You swear you looked like the most suspicious person right this second.

Not only that, sweaty spectators were all around you. How could a renowned celebrity like you stand this kind of treatment?

You stared long and hard at the empty football field. Where are they?

This was taking too long and you were starting to get very impatient and uncomfortable.

Slowly you took out your fedora, letting out your silky dark hair to flow out of its restraints.

The next second, you took out your jacket. Underneath was a simple white shirt that revealed your smooth skin.

As the time ticked away, you also took out the mask — that to be very honest, was starting to annoy you, your sunglasses kept getting fogged up! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Not knowing when the match was going to start, you tapped on the shoulder of the young boy right next to you.

“When is it going to start?”

The young boy turned and felt something stuck in his throat. The moment he laid eyes on you he thought you were a celebrity. Even though the sunglasses were hiding half of your face, he really thought you looked like someone famous.

“E-eh,” he stuttered.

“Eh?” You repeated after him.

“There! They are about to come out!” His attention was immediately drawn to the field.

The roars of the crowd erupted throughout the stadium as U-20 Japan and Blue Lock emerged to the field.

You squinted as hard as possible trying to take a good look at the players.

Sae and Rin then appeared in your line of sight, both of them in different jerseys.

SAE! RIN! You felt yourself feeling more excited than you should.

-

Sae’s eyes course through the crowd to your allotted seat (that he assigned you to). Rin, who was right beside Sae, followed his brother’s line of sight.

Rin found out that his brother was looking at a woman. She was waving at Sae (or someone else, it was hard to tell with the crowd) animatedly. But the more he looked at the woman in sunglasses, the more she looked awfully familiar.

“Sister?” Rin finally spoke up.

Rin momentarily reminisce the days when he would be in the warm embrace of his sister whenever he cried.

But before any sappy sibling reunion, the match between the two brothers was just about to start.

-

Aww~ Rin also grew up so handsomely, and to think he is taller than Sae. You thought to yourself, happy.

As the match went on, you were met with a conundrum. Which team should you be supporting?

When U-20 Japan scored a goal, you cheered. When Blue Lock scored a goal, you cheered.

The young boy beside you was also confused as to who you supported.

The match continued with great intensity. You continued with your cheering in spite of not knowing too much about football.

In the end, Blue Lock won and the crowd went crazy.

You saw Sae talking to Rin in the middle of the field. Sae looked impassive as usual and Rin, you noticed, had an expression on him that caused your elderly sister's instinct to activate.

-

Turns out, what you witnessed was the part where Sae was gassing up Isagi instead of acknowledging Rin’s growth as a striker.

“-and,” Sae continued, “your sister has been calling out for you. Don’t ignore her.”

Rin stared at Sae’s back as he parts from him.

True enough, when he turned back to the crowd, he saw you mouthing his name.

Rin jogged towards your seating area and as he approaches, his right hand rubbed the back of his neck feeling bashful.

-

Up top at the spectator's seat, you saw Rin jogging towards you.

You hasten your steps down the stairs and gave your littlest (and very sweaty) brother the warmest embrace.

“You did great,” you softly whispered.

No matter how big he gets, he is still a kid.

“H-hey, isn’t that the popular idol?” The murmurs in the crowd continued, interrupting your reunion.

The spectators soon became privy to the idol in the stadium.

How did this come to be?

Well, to put it simply, you carelessly took off your last remaining “cover-up” —your sunglasses— in the heat of the moment as soon as the match ended. ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

To say the least, the very next day news began pouring out about the Itoshi Siblings.

☆〜（ゝ。∂）the end (for now) ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

<;no pairings yet! *evil laughing* I plan to create a blue lock harem>

Part 2

[lalunanymph]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐆𝐎

↳ a foul-mouthed, aggressive, pro-soccer player on the verge of being disqualified from the biggest game of his life, is tossed into a fake relationship with a spoiled heiress to salvage their bad public reputation. what exactly could go wrong?

𖨆♡𖨆 itoshi rin x fem!reader

cw. mentions of injuries, angst, mentions of food, the itoshi brothers and their horrible communication skills, mentions of medication, arguments, shidou being a menace, language

masterlist | playlist

#6: HIS CONFESSIONS

Rin didn’t know what compelled him to open his mouth, or for those words to tumble freely from his loosened lips. He liked to think it was grief which compromised his unwavering pride for a split second. Or, the guilt for what he did and said to his brother when he exhaled—

“Teach me how to win her back.”

Sae’s expression betrayed a hint of surprise when those cold features morphed into begrudging curiosity. 

His deadened stare sparked to life with a flicker of interest, and he regarded his younger brother for a long moment. When the silence got too much for Rin to bear and he wanted to walk away and play it off as the after effects of a mild concussion, Sae tilted his head to one side. 

Another agonising moment later, he nodded.

“Fine,” his older brother mumbled. “On one condition.”

Rin waited for him to counter-offer something humiliating which his ego and pride would never consent to him doing. He anticipated the other shoe to drop, and tensed, shoulders squared and ready to take back his foolish question, replacing it with spat hatred into Sae’s face.

But, his nii-chan’s next words shook him to the core, and he thought he might actually be suffering from a concussion when Sae said: “Play soccer with me again.”

Rin’s shoulders slumped, and something achy and hot pressed in the back of his throat. It crept into his eyes, burning a stinging path which bubbled over into beads of tears forming right on his lash line. Sae, too, could not bear to look at him; like he was a mirage and if he stared too long at his little brother, Rin might vanish.

“Oh.” Rin spoke past the lump in his throat, ignoring Shidou who hovered in his periphery like a gnat, batting its wings and waiting to float back to Sae’s side. “... okay.”

Their moment was interrupted by Shidou’s loud gagging. “What is this? A fucking Hallmark movie? You both are corny as fuck. Lame.”

He jammed his large hands into his hoodie and rolled his vermillion eyes, stalking back towards whichever hell hole he came from. “See you later, Sae. Don’t get too weepy.”

“Man, fuck you,” Sae murmured mildly.

“I would if you gave me a chance.”

Rin’s disgusted grimace broke the fine film of tension between the two men and Sae shook his head absentmindedly. Looking back at his brother, he motioned to a nearby field which was empty this afternoon save for a shoddy goalpost and one discarded, almost deflated soccer ball. 

“One on one?”

Unlike that wintry night when Sae challenged him to the same thing, Rin didn’t feel a sense of foreboding or dread. He welcomed the sunshine shimmering in his vision, almost blinded by the faintest glint of sincerity in his brother’s irises. Sae picked up the ball, and just like when they were both teenagers again, he shot his brother a challenging smirk. 

“Ready?”

Rin nodded, stepping forward out of his shell and into the man he already was today; a champion and a worthy opponent. A man who had proven himself multiple times in the big field. A man enough to go against Itoshi Sae. 

“Ready.”

It was time to put old ghosts to rest. 

The thunderous applause echoing across the gilded palace rooms vibrated through your very soul. 

Its ardour would’ve scared you if it was not directed towards your creations waltzing down the catwalk, validating your belief in your designing prowess. The spectators called you Japan’s next best underground fashion designer, and many heiresses, too, wanted you to dress them for their next event.

Your works encapsulated a mix between ornamental opulence and sleek simplicity; kimono-inspired suit sets made from spun golden silk, body-hugging cashmere and luxurious sleeves showcasing models of every ethnicity and body size as their godlier versions. A true spectacle considering the palace’s heavenly aesthetics which complimented your creative touch. 

You took one shaky step up onto the stage, and the lights almost blinded you; you were wrapped in a simple black corset dress from your collection, its sleeves trailing down to your knees and almost covering your hands when you humbly clasped them in front of you, bowing lowly to the applause.

The fashion critics remained impassive, and you had no doubt they would try to find an opening to diss a relatively unknown fashion designer. They may call you a nepotism baby, never mind that your father was famous in the sports world and this was the first attempt for the L/N name to breach through the fashion industry.

You let the naysayers whisper behind your back, already feeling like you achieved something because you took the first step—trusted yourself to put your abilities forward when the whole world saw you as nothing but a spoiled rich brat. That was considered a win in your book. 

“Congratulations, Miss L/N!” Every designer and model you worked with bore a bright smile when you went backstage to speak to them. 

Warmth suffused across your cheeks, and you shook your head, giving them back the credit. “No, it is all of you who deserve the recognition for bringing my designs to life.” Bowing low to each of them, you said, “Thank you for putting your trust in me.”

The talented individuals were touched by your acknowledgement, and it showed in their bright smiles and shiny eyes. 

“Tonight, drinks are on me,” you announced to the whole room through your cupped palms. Everyone cheered and the legendary near frenzied post-party after a fashion show began with manic cleaning up and rapid-fire jokes going off across every room.

Someone touched your arm amidst the chaos, and you turned to find Damara, her light eyes twinkling with mirth. 

“A gentleman is outside of the building and he’s requesting a one-on-one with you. Fair warning, he’s rather good-looking.”

You blinked, retracing in your mind who would have expressed interest in your works and stifled a gasp. Was it perhaps Itachibana-san himself who promised your father he would drop in for this show? Junni’s dad always did have a soft spot for you, and his contacts extended towards the top fashion conglomerates in the world. You pictured the mature, but still attractive man waiting for you with his carefree smile, and thanked Damara for sending the message.

Heart beating hard in your chest, you swiftly moved towards the backstage exit and out into the cool wind, forgetting to bring your jacket in your excitement. The streets were filled with activity, and you blended right into its motion, keeping your eyes peeled for your best friend’s father.

But, it wasn’t him standing underneath a pool of orange street lamp light, holding a rose bouquet.

Rin tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, teal eyes bright despite his impassive expression.

You faltered and took one step back when you noticed him. 

The bruise around his eye was stark across his pale skin, and his smile was paper thin with nerves.

“Hey. C-Congratulations on the show. Here—” He walked over to you and handed you the arrangement. You gingerly took it by the hefty stem, cradling the burst of roses to your chest, your heart doubling in speed from how heartbreakingly handsome Itoshi Rin looked tonight.

Glossy dark green locks tinted black from the darkness were pushed from his face, stray bangs falling across his forehead and brushing his chiselled cheek. Even with a blooming black eye, it could not compare to the delicate jut of his nose bridge or the elegant curve of those thick lashes framing his beautiful eyes.

Your voice was stuck in the back of your throat, and you stared at him in silence for a few seconds.

“I… heard from your designer that the show went well.” Rin shoved his hands into his slack pockets, dropping his gaze towards the grey pavement shyly. “I’m—that is to say, I… you did good.”

You suddenly felt too hot around your neck, and like there were far too many eyes on you. Shifting your weight from one Louboutin heel to the other, you managed to exhale a small laugh.

“Thank you.” Glancing at the bouquet, you gestured to it. “And thank you for these. Red roses are my favourite.”

“Yeah, you told me that before.”

You blinked. Like a mirage, the memory of that conversation sparked in your mind; the both of you sitting across the table having a simple dinner of ochazuke and tempura—where it felt like aeons ago that you could sit in such casual affection with a man you once held such strong feelings for. 

Feelings which were resurfacing back despite your efforts to keep a lid on them. 

“I guess I did,” you mumbled, smiling weakly. A beat of awkward silence passed between you two, and you desperately wished he would say something. Do something rather than blink owlishly at you, as if he were trying to find the right words to say. You settled for wrapping this conversation up, deciding it was time to put an end to your contact with Itoshi Rin.

“Thank you for the flowers. I have to go back in. My colleagues are waiting for me,” your smile grew tighter.  “I assume you’ll be heading off to France soon?” 

It stung him how you still remembered despite everything. How his schedule was etched in your memory. When he didn't reply, your smile waned around the edges and you bowed your head forward slightly. “Good luck with your game, Rin. I’ll be rooting for your win against your brother.”

Your best efforts at hiding the wobble in your voice was masked by your bright smile and you almost turned around to leave when his choked rendition of your name stopped you short. 

“W-Wait…”

Never in a million years did you anticipate Itoshi Rin wrapping his fingers around your wrist to anchor you to his side, a slight tremble in his grasp. The bouquet tumbled out of your arms in surprise, hitting the pavement in a rush of falling blooms, mimicking the blood roaring in your ears.

As if on instinct, your body flinched from his, and you backed away, unable to look into his beautiful teal eyes which were brimming with such a sharp emotion, you feared one glance would cut you up for life.

“Don’t,” you managed to whisper, tightening your arms around your torso. “Don’t… don’t play with my heart like this, Rin.”

The pain in your hushed voice drew him up short. 

Tell her you’re sorry, Sae’s voice echoed in his head. Apologise for what you said to her. Y/N’s feelings are hurt and if you try to make peace first, she will be open to hearing your words. 

But, what came out of his mouth was completely different from the words Sae coached him to repeat. 

“You did this to me.” 

Amidst the twinkling lights of the Milanese streets and the adrenaline pumping in your veins, no one could fault you for taking a step back; wanting to preserve what sliver of inner peace you still had left.

Those that he hadn’t taken from you just yet.

You puffed your chest and squared your shoulders, meeting Itoshi Rin’s glare head-on even though you felt like dissolving into sniffling sobs. He truly was the bane of your existence—not even a few days ago, you were glad to be away from Tokyo; away from the man who had taken every inch of your thoughts, but did not reciprocate it.

“It’s all your fault.” You had never heard Rin sound this angry. 

Your words were tripping over each other, spluttering out into indignant sentences which raced to fly off your acidic tongue when you suddenly stopped. 

He had closed his eyes, pretty eyelashes casting shadows onto his chiselled cheekbones and took the final step so your chest was pressed to his. 

“I hate you.”

He swept you into his arms, holding you fast to his heart while his face was buried in your hair. The anger you held for him died in the back of your throat, and you froze, unable to believe he was touching you on his own free will. 

“Can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued to murmur into the softness of your hair. “Lost so many goals because of you. My pass rate dropped by 45%. I got a foul. I punched Isagi in the face.”

Your mind was blaring sirens of overwhelming response to his sudden touch and barrage of information. “Rin,” you gasped. “You did what to Isagi—?!” 

“Stupid,” he growled, stopping your influx of words. Tall and imposing, his body heat was heady and made you want to curl up in his embrace forever. A sob bubbled from the roaring depths of your heart and you hiccuped it back, refusing to fall into his embrace and deception again. “You’re such a fucking pain, Y/N.” 

You swore you would never be that same girl who cried on the plane to Italy while wearing the jersey you stole from his closet. 

You swore you would never let Itoshi Rin kick your heart around as if it were a spare ball. 

But, you couldn’t pull away, not even for one second. 

“Yeah?” your voice quaked from disbelief. “If you hate me, then why are you here?” 

His rough palms slid up the bodice of your dress, feeling the ridges of the corset you wore which barely concealed how your heartbeat was quickening; his lips touching the rapid pulse ticking under your jaw. 

Itoshi Rin was never a man who minced his words, so what else did you expect when he exhaled— 

“Told you. Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Rin—”

“Y/N.”

He gave you no time to second-guess his intention when he leaned closer to you, one palm cupping your cheek to hold you in place. You could not look at him, not when the words he uttered behind your back still scarred your trust.

You had shown him, didn’t you?

Showed him how you finally found the courage to stand on your own two feet; how you did something crazy and stupid and took a chance on your dreams which landed you on one of Milan’s hottest runways.

He knew that, didn’t he?

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered, unable to look directly into his eyes; afraid of what you might find. The truth, perhaps, that your doubts were real. “Said I was nothing but a spoiled brat.”  

“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered after a beat of silence. “I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. My ego—”

“Is fucking huge,” you quipped which earned you the softest glimmer in his teal eyes even if his expression remained impassive.

Eventually, he agreed.

“Yeah,” Rin muttered softly. “It is fucking huge. And it nearly cost me someone I care about.” 

Were you hallucinating?

Did his team put him up to this so they could record your reaction and laugh at it later in the locker rooms? 

Whatever hope you buoyed that Rin actually reciprocated your feelings curdled in your chest like sour milk from the bitter memories, and you stepped back from him, unable to look into his gorgeous aquamarine eyes which clouded over with confusion when he noticed the tremble in your lower lip. 

“I should go,” you mumbled, willing the tears not to break down your cheeks, and spinning around so he couldn’t see your expression. Gathering what was left of your composure, you dipped your head low and mumbled: “We don’t have to fake anything anymore, Rin. You can hate me out loud now. I won’t mind. It’s your sentiments. It’s just—”

I wished you didn’t.

But, you had no courage to tell it to his face. 

In the end, you were as much of a coward with your emotions as he was, and your skin suddenly flashed hotly, goosebumps prickling your arms; the world was spinning slightly in your periphery, the lights too loud and the people rushing down the streets sounded like a roaring waterfall and you haven’t eaten anything yet this whole evening so you could fit into this stupid, vintage dress and you were so sure your curling iron was still switched on in your hotel room and—

His strong grip on your wrist nudged you back into his chest. Halting your thoughts right in their frenzied tracks.

You did not get to fight him off, not when he was fueled with desperation and contempt for his stupidly big ego.

Not when he gently spun you around, lifted your chin and fixed you with a look of hunger and yearning which softened the hard edges of his once diamond-like yes and definitely not when—

The world screeched to a stop.

Soft as a cushion, Itoshi Rin’s lips pressed onto yours, stealing the last of your protests and breath away.

Nothing in your existence mattered beyond the curve of his mouth rasping against your own; the hot press of his hands roaming up and down your back, bringing you closer to him—Rin’s courage solidifying from such an ensconced location away from the ruthless eyes of cameras, fangirls and Ego’s scheming. 

Is this really happening? 

Rin tilted his head to the right to slot the jut of his bottom lip in between your parted, panting mouth, and you almost shied away from the tip of his tongue touching yours, coaxing you to come out and meet him in a reciprocal dance of devotion. 

He ruthlessly overpowered his opponents on the field as easily as he overwhelmed you with his tenacity on this dimly-lit street, and you did not protest when one hand came to cradle the nape of your neck, holding you in place while the other tentatively squeezed your waist, committing your curves back into his memory.

Ever a quiet gentleman, Rin let you break off the kiss first; a single strand of spit connecting both your lips together flashed like a silver thread from the hazy orange glow the streetlamps above casted over two uncertain lovers.

You licked your bottom lip, tasting his musk and something minty, breaking the final connection between both your parted mouths. A dust of pink glowed on his cheeks, and his azure eyes—usually boring into yours with sullen distaste—were almost overshadowed by his black pupils, only a thin ring of blue left.

It was endearing how he could not even meet your gaze, uncharacteristically timid for someone so sure on the field.

A smile burst forth onto your face, illuminating the scenery with a sweet luminosity which took his breath away.

“So,” you started, a teasing glint in your eye. “I take it this means you miss me and you want me to come back?” 

Rin’s first instinct was to roll his eyes and scoff. But, strangely, the same contagious happiness stole the muscles on his face, curving his thin lips into a smile against his will.

There she goes again—making me act like a fool with no self-control.

He didn’t have to reply. That little grin was the only answer you needed.

The city lights continued to sparkle and a cool breeze nipped both your noses, but Rin’s hand in yours is as warm as ever. 

“—and that’s another spectacular goal from Itoshi Rin!”

“He’s on fire this season!” 

“The finest soccer legacy from Blue Lock is right here, ladies and gentlemen!”

You chanted his name along with the crowd, the cameras panning towards his impassive face with those fired-up teal eyes you knew and loved.

His number blazing across your chest, and pride overflowing in your soul—you were surprised when he lifted his head and noticed you right in the heart of the crowd. 

Nothing could compare to how the entire stadium went wild when they saw his eyes softened infinitesimally in real time; their clamour rocking straight into your bones when it kicked up a notch from his small smirk and wave in your direction. You shyly waved back at him, and this time, it was your lovesick grin splashed over the huge LED screens for the world to see.

But, Rin and you didn’t care. 

You were past faking anything, anyway. 

He doubled back after the ball went careening into the opponent’s goal, jersey soaked with sweat, and he gave a small fistbump when the crowds roared his name. You leapt to your feet with the rest of Japan’s supporters, and clapped, pride blooming hotly in your chest.

As if you had him in a trance, Rin glanced up at you, and disregarding the pitch etiquette, he jogged over to where you were separated by the touchline barriers and pushed his bangs from his forehead in time for you to flounce closer, hands extended towards him.

“Are you hurt?” you said in dismay, recalling the ball which accidentally smashed into his face, leaving him a smear of dirt on his cheek which you wiped it away with your thumb. He beamed up at you, drawing a gaggle of surprised reactions from his teammates who had never seen this side of Rin before; his broad shoulders relaxed, brow smooth, Captain armband stretched across his defined bicep. He looked far too enticing for such a crowded area. 

God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. But, you reined in your reactions, biting your lower lip to keep your face from splitting into a wide grin. 

He took your hand and squeezed, nodding. 

“After this game, baby, I’m bending you over the couch and I’m not going to go easy on you.” 

You gaped at him, unsure if he said what you thought he said in the middle of the most important game of his life. He’s insane. Your heart flipped and your stomach exploded in a rush of butterflies when Rin grinned at your stumped silence and ran back into the action, kicking up dirt from his quick sprint, leaving your melted heart gooey with affection.

He’s insane and he’s all mine. 

When Blue Lock scored 2-1 against Bastard Munchen, you swore you had never seen your boyfriend look this ecstatic; brows shooting up to his hairline, mouth parted in a raucous yell when he scored the final goal—his teammates lifting him up in the air as triumph blazed their happiness like a second skin.  

A familiar bob of reddish-brown hair made its way to the field, and you couldn’t see what the older Itoshi was saying to his younger brother, but Rin wore a small smile, and nodded. You had faith it was something good.

Later when the frenzy died down, you were admitted into the premium lounge where you found him sitting on the edge of the plush leather sofa, conversing with Isagi in low tones. At the sight of you, he paused, raising a brow. Quietly asking for you to come over to him. 

You did, and Isagi beamed when he noticed how easily you sat next to Rin, no longer tense nor fidgety. He took your hand and rubbed gentle circles onto the rise of your knuckles, and to everyone else in the Blue Lock, the sight must be completely alien for a few other players were smirking in your direction.

“Hey, Isagi, do you think I should get a girlfriend, too?” Bachira asked innocently from his perch on the floor, holding an isotonic drink pack in one hand. Ego was in the corner, speaking to a team of managers that he did not overhear Meguru’s innocent question which would land him in hot water.

Taken aback by his friend’s question, Isagi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. If it’s anyone you should ask, it would be Rin.”

To everyone’s surprise, the unsmiling, aloof and cold Itoshi Rin scoffed fondly, flitting his calm teal eyes towards you.

“Go for it,” he murmured while tightening his grip on your hand, secretly enjoying the feel of his fingers laced with yours, and the sight of his name and number on your chest. Everyone knew without a shadow of a doubt that you belonged to him. 

The corners of your eyes crinkled from your wide grin which was so full of life and unaffected by anything else. Completely enamoured with the fact you could wake up everyday and call Rin Itoshi yours. But, no one could say you were still not the same teasing girl who had melted the ice-cold walls around his heart. 

“Try it if you dare, Bachi. Rin should be able to give you some pointers off-field if you get stuck thanks to my training.”

Your charming quip was met with raised brows and surprised smiles, least of all from the one man who could make you melt into a puddle of your own glee when he scoffed a quiet laugh.

“Yeah, I’ll give you some real advice alright,” he grumbled to appease Bachira’s sudden onset of relationship questions.

He tuned his teammate out. 

No one else existed in the room to Rin at this moment; not Ego calling for the team to regroup and debrief on the latest match, or Bachira who bravely thumped Isagi’s back to cajole him to help get me a girlfriend, Yoichi-kun! I wanna see what the hype is all about! 

It was just you and Rin in this split second of time, and he could not stop those stupid muscles on his face from ticking upwards in a shy smile. Completely honest and truthful when he showed the world how much you had him head over heels in love. 

After all, he was done pretending, too.

hihi this is finally done and though i admit my interest in bllk has waned, im happy i wrapped this up and this little story has made everyone feel good :'> im not so sure what my future in the bllk fandom would be but your support and love for my work will always be the highlight of my time here &lt;;33

p.s: pls listen to this song as the closing credits for a little serotonin boost as much as i had when i wrote this hehe

xoxo dawnie

©️ all rights belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[lxcalmenace]

I Was Wrong, If Only I Knew.

A Rin Itoshi Series

Highschool AU

Summary: When the usually so cold and reserved Rin Itoshi agreed to go out for dinner with you, you couldn't help getting excited but also a part in you was awfully suspicious of his sudden change in his behavior. You finally learnt the despondent truth when it was time to meet for the dinner.

Gn! Y/n X Rin Itoshi

Status: On-going

Taglist: Open

Chapters ◇

1. The Dinner

2. Reo's party

3. Always By Your Side

4. You and your filthy 'sorrys'

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[dira333]

Cats in the Cradle - Itoshi Rin - Part 2

Baby Series - part 1 - part 3

To find Sae at your front door is never a good sign, but to find him there today is the worst of all signs.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say like he’s the evil you need to protect him from.

“No,” Rin shakes his head, “I’ll deal with him. You go inside, okay?”

One look tells him that he’s serious. He might not have fully grasped the news yet, but he’s firm on his stance here.

“Okay, love you.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and shuffle along, bidding Sae the shortest greeting you’re able to. The fact that he doesn’t try to stop you on your way in tells you anything you need to know.

He’s Rin’s brother after all.

But you wouldn’t be his wife if you didn’t know to leave the door open a smidge. Just in case you need to come to his rescue in whatever way he could need.

-

“Mom said you’re expecting.”

“So what?”

“Listen,” Sae’s voice is low, urging, “I’m not a good brother. Probably never have been, but I… I have been thinking about it, lately, if things could have been different. And if there ever had been a sign to try again, this is it, right?”

“Just because we’re having a child?” 

You’re clutching the doorframe now, wishing, hoping, begging Sae to say the right thing.

“No, Rin, the kid’s not even here yet. But yeah, I don’t want your kid to only know me as some guy you can’t help but be related to. I don’t have to be an uncle if you don’t want me to-”

“The hell you mean you’re not going to be an uncle?!” Rin snaps, the sign for you to push the door open, to call out his name.

His head snaps over, concern cutting through the anger in an instant.

“Be nice,” you tell him softly, making the way back to lean into him, “Sae’s offering. You can do with it what you want.”

Rin sinks into you, heavy with emotions you can’t even begin to understand. But you try, for his sake. 

“How about…” You start, peering up at Sae who looks so unusually insecure, “How about you come inside and we have a cup of tea? Just to catch up. We can go from there.”

-

The weeks pass.

You can tell that Rin’s slowly, slowly starting to grasp reality.

Not one child. Two. 

“What if they end up hating each other?” He asks more than once, mostly when you’re about to fall asleep, his most vulnerable spots hidden in the darkness.

“We’ll help them through it. Most siblings have fights. It’s how you get out of those fights that define you, you know.”

“When do we know the gender?” He asks next.

It doesn’t take long to figure out why. In his head, daughters will not go through what he went through. Daughters, sisters, will not turn their backs on each other.

Your arguments fall on deaf ears but at least he listens to your wish, shakes his head when the doctors asks if he wants to know instead of making it a surprise.

He’s still a bundle of nerves on the way to the Gender Reveal.

You can only hope that Bachira and the boys don’t poke the bear.

[chodzacaparodia]

Blue Lock Birthday Cards

because someone will definitely have a birthday someday

Link Click Birthday Cards

Haikyuu!! Birthday Cards

[24hlevi]

— PAPARAZZI

an itoshi rin x male!reader series

genre: angst

summary: y/n is a famous pop idol, and rin is his biggest fan. rin would do anything to just have five minutes with his idol, anything.

warnings: language, stalking, borderline yandere!rin, nsfw content in later chapters, all characters are aged to 21+, each chapter will also have warnings

author's note: im so excited that this is my first series! ive never done anything like this before so bare with me! be mindful of the warnings in each chapter thank you :3

tag list is open!

CHAPTER INDEX -

profiles pt 1 | profiles pt 2

chapter one - the idol

chapter two - his biggest fan

chapter three - jealous guy

more tba!

[kitorin]

LOVE ALL PLAY.

synopsis -> in which, itoshi rin's plans to have a peaceful high school career is ruined by the carefree genius of his school

contents. itoshi rin x badminton player!reader, rivals to lovers, sports romance, high school au, fluff

a/n. first time doing a (written) series! it was initially a oneshot but since it ended up getting really long i've decided to make it a mini series <(￣︶￣)>

MASTERLIST.

001. new found irritation

002. annoyance

003. two idiots, a genius, and their companion

004. sardines and debt sardines

005. you and me, by the sea (coming soon)

taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate