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#THERE'S TOO MANY CLUBS TOO MANY MATCHES TOO MANY PLAYERS
somedaytakethetime · 2 years
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Heyhey, I hope youre doing well altho, I guess you werent that happy with the whole last match week either. 😑 I havent watched any matches of Kaspers new club yet but I check the results. So they barely qualified for that European league thing but dont look too good in there own league, maybe Kasper should of checked out this club more thoroughly before going there and not relied on there name being a sign. 😩
To be fair I can’t complain about Milan they won most of their matches and were never going to win all 38 so thats perfectly okay. They even played well and won today but I just had to watch back some parts of the match to make sure I didn’t imagine that. 😆😆 Especially at the beginning of each half they looked a bit asleep but I guess Bologna were just bad. But I really dont get why they buy so many players for positions that already have 2 or 3 options, what do they need 50 defenders for they should get someone who can cover for the midfield back pair, I already dont like how Sandro is playing the 90 minutes every match even when he doesn’t appear fully fit altho maybe I’m just over protective when it comes to him, or not maybe thats 100% the case. 😅😅 But he already missed the first match because of an injury and ofcourse I want him on the pitch as much as possible but would be almost okay with him sitting out some matches over the season because he also looks so outrageously pretty watching in his sexy smartass glasses. 😍😍 Not too many tho, he can always coach Milan in sth like 20 years and look handsome on the sideline then. 🙂💕
I’ve been checking up on Insigne for you, he’s back and played really well today and also scored a goal. 🙂 Toronto even has another italian that I had no idea about, Federico Bernardeschi and he scored too, how are there suddenly so many Italians in this league?? Maybe I should watch it more but theres really not enough time for everything! 🤯 x
~S.A.
Hello hello!! I hope you have been well too friend! My clubs were specifically made, by the Demon himself, to cause me suffering and pain. So far with Nice I've gotten three red cards, only one clean sheet and MANY near heart attacks watching.. seeing the second leg of the play-offs for the Conference League nearly had me in tears. I almost died when Beka Beka scored that second one, I was so happy I couldn't believe my own two eyes had seen that with my own two eyes. Leicester has also kept on clowning.. the one match that they apparently did decently wasn't even televised so I didn't get to see Iversen, my other Danish keeper roll, defend penalties 😭😭😭
I have to watch Milan back later tonight yesterday I kept up with the scores only and was tickled to see they scored twice one for my own child and one for the big French Daddy, love that for Oli 😌 SANDRO LOOKED AMAZING IN THOSE GLASSES AND I DIE ON THE HILL THAT HE SHOULD *ALWAYS* WEAR THEM!! Not during matches off course, but every time he's not training? Everywhere he goes? I WANT THOSE GLASSES /ON/! I don't understand the transfers either, but this window has been a confusion and a nightmare so it's really hard for me to understand even 1/8th of the guys each team has brought in and WHY LORD?? EXPLAIN!!
GO MY LITTLE SHORT KING GO!! I'm so happy Insigne scored!! Also.. BERNA WENT TO THE MLS!?? WHAT?? WHO ALLOWED THIS!? Then again I'm happy you can peep on Berna from time to time he's... easy on the eyes you know? 👀😏
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sk2lton · 1 year
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we have a guest speaker in math class to talk to us about coping w stress as if this class isn’t the reason i felt like shitting myself this morning😭😭
#chant 𖦹 d’oiseau#‘what r things that stress u?’ THIS FUCKING CLASS THIS CLASS BRUH LET ME OUT OF HERE#I WANNA CRY CZ I GOTTA DO A STUPID FUCKING ONE ON ONE TALK WITH MY MATH TEACHER AFTER THIS SHIT AND SHE’S GONNA TEST ME ON SHIT#on the fuxking spot too. it’s like girl is it not enough that i finished ur fucking stupid assignment that made no sense#there’s literally videos there of me doing each fucking question too and i explain it while doing it#teachers who are like ‘i don’t wanna stress u guys’ then continue to fucking stress u the fuck out should burn i hare them#i js wanna watch the brazil vs switerland match#football is unfortunately my current hf if that’s not obvious and within the past week i’ve memorized most leagues and the teams within them#most players in these leagues. at least the notable ones. and it’s encouraged me to get back into football because growing up i really had —#— a talent for it but then my mental health came in and ruined everything#i was too anxious to do shit anymore so that’s such an L tbh but this isn’t meant to be depressing vent or anything i js wanna say i love fb#ive watched the wc and fb like since the day i popped out of the womb and i rmb the first wc i could rmb#i cheered for argentina so hard but got so upset when they were knocked out by brazil. now i’m cheering for brazil (argentina on the side)#so i feel like a trader to my younger self😭 little me would surely NOT appreciate me cheering for brazil#sk vs ghana was crazy cz i didn’t expect sk to comeback like that in the second half but it’s sad they didn’t tie. good game nonetheless#i’m so mad at team canada ngl cz we had good players but our defense was invisible😭 it doesn’t matter how good our midfielders or strikers r#as long as our def is shitty our team is shitty😭 that’s like building a house on poor foundation#it won’t last long and it’ll cause problems😭 davies goal was such a W and we have so many players from great clubs but i feel like—#— wasted them. i could go on and on and on and on about football#different teams. leagues. who fucked up by doing what😭 speaking of which… mexico’s fuckinf coach set them up idc#i rlly wanted to see lainez play. he’s a fucking game changer but mexico’s coach was like ‘how do i set us up…’ 😭#mexico was robbed by their own coach.. canada was robbed in the canada vs belgium match jts crazy 😭😭😭
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sporadicbeans82 · 27 days
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What Can't Be || Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Reader (Part Two)
Part 1 || Part 3
Summary: You think you're in love with your ex-girlfriend, Mapi León. You also think you're in love with her current girlfriend. Both of them are your new teammates, and you must continue to bury your feelings for both women and prioritize your career... It's a little bit harder than you thought. What a mess.
Warnings: A swear word probably, a loooot of angsty pining, self-hatred, lack of sleep on the part of the Reader
Word count: 5.1k words
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Your first day at Barcelona was spent in a haze of confusion and exhaustion. You’d spent most of the night restlessly rolling over and over until you’d gotten up and out of bed early, at around three in the morning. 
You were two coffees into the day, and you felt like your eyes had been glued open but still fought to close. Your very being was exhausted, given that the turnover between your last match, moving homes, and attending your first training for Barcelona had been a solid three days. It probably wouldn’t have been quite as draining if you’d been able to sleep at night, but each night was much the same. 
You spent much of your time trying to sleep. You’d never had very many issues with the task before, so you weren’t quite sure why you couldn’t sleep now. You blamed it due to the stress which had compounded within your life in the last few days. 
“Hola!!” Someone cried out in greeting to you, and you glanced up. You wore a plain jumper and trousers, both of which you’d tugged on in the dark that morning. 
“Hola.” You greeted back, trying to remind yourself not to be nearly as grumpy as you felt. You forced a kinder smile onto your face, eyes drifting up to find one of the Barcelona players walking besides you. You recognized them to be Claudia Pina, and looked around for her partner in crime. Alas, Patri was nowhere to be found. 
Noticing the way you glanced around, Claudia puffed her cheeks out and gave you a cheesy grin. 
“Ella tenía un interview con La Reiiiinaaaaaaa!” Claudia rolled the R in “Reina” exaggeratedly, rolling her eyes playfully. You wondered if the younger girl was always like this, happy and joyful, and naturally funny. You hardly felt like you yourself could be like that, given the pit of dread which culminated in your stomach at the prospect of having to face two specific women who’d been haunting your very thoughts the past few days. 
As much as you yearned to make a great “first” impression on the Barcelona players, you could hardly think straight, both literally and metaphorically. Over the last few days, you’d attempted to get your muddled and confused thoughts in order, but found yourself unable to. 
You always ended up thinking too hard about Ingrid Engens’ kind, concerned eyes or her soft fingers against your skin. Or, you were drowning in memories of your time with Mapi so, so many years ago. It was the last thing that you’d needed at the time, given how big this club transfer was to you, but you couldn’t force yourself out of this cycle of thought. 
“Estás bien?” Claudia’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, which you were incredibly grateful for as the two of you began to enter the locker room. Walking down the hallway together, you nodded at the younger player.
“Yeah just… estoy en mi mente, cabeza? Stuck in my thoughts.” You didn’t know how much English Claudia knew, but you were even more unsure about your own Spanish. How one could go through a decade of Spanish teams knowing only minimal Spanish had and always would be a mystery to you.
Claudia just grinned at you, however, and you supposed that she probably knew a decent amount of English. You remembered seeing a video somewhere that focused on a day in the life with Mapi and… Ingrid. You’d never watched the video for obvious reasons, but you’d seen a few snippets of it on various apps. 
Just like that, your mind was stuck on the way that the two communicated. You remembered hearing Ingrids’ accented English and Mapi’s Spanish, responding to each other in a flurry of different languages. It reminded you of the way that you and Mapi had communicated when you had dated, with you understanding the Spanish that Mapi spoke but responding back in English. The thought made you insanely jealous, but dread washed over you as you couldn’t figure out which girl you were jealous of. 
It should have been easy. You should have wanted to be Ingrid, right? Because you had dated Mapi in the past, and you’d be lying if you said that feelings were not still there for the Spanish defender. However, your thoughts always seemed to catch on Ingrids’ hands and eyes and… the way she’d spoken to you, calm and collected when you were everything but. You were confused.
Walking into the locker room with Claudia didn’t help that confusion. Most of the team was already there, and many of the girls greeted you and Claudia by name. You did your best to acknowledge each greeting with one of your own.
However, catching sight of Ingrid and Mapi talking to each other quietly by one of their cubbies in a far corner of the room caused a thick feeling of anxiety to choke the words back into your throat. You tried not to stare at the other two, but as you were shown to your cubby, your eyes drifted upward to take them in. 
Both women wore their training gear, and Mapi was getting her boots on while Ingrid sat beside her. One of Ingrids’ hands had fallen onto Mapi’s knee, stroking at the freshly-healed scars there from Mapi’s most recent surgery. 
The two whispered quietly back and forth, planting kisses on each others’ cheeks. They were, as it stood, the very definition of “public display of affection” but nobody on the team seemed to mind. At Real Madrid, or any of the other teams that you’d been on, you would have gotten shit from your teammates for so much as holding hands with someone you were interested in. It seemed different here, warmer and softer. It was an atmosphere which allowed these types of interactions with your significant other in a quiet locker room, a safe place to show affection and love for each other. 
Moreover, it seemed more like Mapi was talking to Ingrid and the tall, black-haired woman was simply listening with a fond smile on her face. It was good to know that Mapi was still a yapper, to put it simply. 
Even when the two of you had dated, Mapi had constantly had something to say. Being the quieter of the two, you’d always been more than happy to listen to Mapi’s near-constant string of commentary, jokes, and quips… it had been one of your favorite things about your ex-girlfriend. The way which she could fill even the quietest of rooms with laughs and smiles had always been such a talent of Mapi’s, and the realization that you were no longer the recipient of her words, and hadn’t been for a long time, hurt. Of course, you’d known that since you’d broken off your relationship with the other woman, but seeing the way you were replaced as her partner in ways that used to be so special to you… you swore your heart cracked painfully even more.
As Mapi’s fingers finished tying her laces, she looked up. She caught your dazed gaze, and the two of you met eyes from across the room. The glance startled you into movement, before you could get stuck in her eyes as you had with Ingrids’.
You were quick to look back down, of course, busying yourself with getting your own training gear on as you tugged your jumper over your head and replaced it with the Barcelona top that had been given to you.
When you looked up again, the two were gone. You took your time gathering your stuff together and shoving it back into your cubby. You started to walk out towards the pitch, in the direction that you’d seen the majority of your team go, before you thought better of it.
You circled back to your cubby and turned towards it, taking a deep breath and trying to center yourself as you did so. You knew that this team was important to you, and this transfer was one that you couldn’t fuck up. You realized all too well that the feelings of confusion you had towards your ex-girlfriend and her current girlfriend were ones that very well could fuck everything up, and so you fought to bury them one last time.
Then, you turned right back around. You tried to hold your head up high and expel all of the negative, exhausted energy that had held you down for the last few days. Pushing all thoughts of Mapi and her girlfriend right out of your mind with it. 
Walking out onto the pitch, however, you could still feel the multiple sleepless nights weighing heavy on your shoulders. 
You knew you were fucked the second that Mapi looked up at you. Your eyes meeting a second time had you blushing and turning away before you could control your reaction. Internally, you screamed. You felt like a fool, and you knew that your reaction was a noticeable one by the way you saw Mapi furrow her brows at you from across the field. 
No matter how hard you tried to bury your feelings, they just kept bubbling up to the surface. You reminded yourself that what you had with Mapi was old news. What used to be, but was no longer. 
It didn’t work, and your heart sat cracked in your chest as you kept your head down through the rest of the warmups in order to avoid eye contact with the woman you knew you still loved. 
-----
Your mission to avoid eye contact with both Ingrid and Mapi lasted for an entire five minutes before you were paired with Ingrid for a drill. 
The drill had you pressing up against a ball and trying to run in a straight line to control a ball which was kicked towards you by a third partner. Due to the fact that Mapi was still restricted due to her recent meniscus injury, she was the partner who passed the ball towards either you or Ingrid. 
The three of you fell into your positions almost silently, but as you picked up the large rubber ball to place between you and the taller Norwegian, you dropped the ball. It simply slipped between your shaking fingers, and as you went to pick it up again, the ball dropped out from between your hands again as it rotated awkwardly in your grip.
Sighing exasperatedly, you stooped to try a third time, only to be intercepted by a firm arm across your chest. The arm stopped you from bending downwards, and you glanced over to meet Ingrids’ eyes. 
Like during the match, you swore you could have drowned in her eyes, and cursed yourself for the way your heart stammered in your chest. You felt your throat dry up, feeling so many emotions for such a simple interaction. A combination of your lack of sleep, your small crushes on the girls, and the way that you absolutely couldn’t have those feelings for the two Barcelona players was becoming nearly overwhelming in its intensity. 
You quickly redirected your gaze, backing up so that Ingrids’ arm was no longer pressed against you. If you hadn’t done that, you swore you could have crumpled right then and there. Instead, you retrained your eyes on Mapi, which wasn’t any better as the girl met your eyes with her own, seeming to have been watching you the entire time.
A part of you wanted to go up to Jona and tell him that you couldn’t do this. Even better, a part of you wanted to hightail it back to Real Madrid. You weren’t made for this– the pressure, the pain, and the extra feelings on the side. It wasn’t something that you were used to, and the usual methods that you had to cope with how you were feeling weren’t working. 
Seeming to sense an impending breakdown, you felt the rubber ball pressed against your side. Ingrids’ shove nearly sent you flying, but you managed to catch your footing in time. You heard her giggle, and the sound was so much softer than you anticipated. It reminded you of the birds which had used to sit outside your home in England, chirping away as the sun rose above the horizon. 
Suddenly, you felt like you would have done anything to hear the noise again. It wasn’t unlike the way you felt about Mapi talking. You would have made a fool out of yourself, traveled to the moon and back an infinite number of times, jumped and heaved mountains over your shoulders just to hear Mapi speak to you like you were more than just a stranger… or to hear Ingrid laugh. 
Here you were, falling further and further for both women. You hoped, rather stupidly, that one of the girls would catch you before you fell too far.
The sound, like everything else Ingrid seemed to do, soothed your frayed nerves as a small smile returned to your face. You pushed back against Ingrid with all of your might, and that was when Mapi kicked the ball towards the two of you.
You tried to stick your foot out while also trying to maintain your balance, and ended up falling sideways. You heard someone squawk before there was a weight on top of you, and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know that it was the person who you really shouldn’t want to be on top of you.
You tried not to pay attention to the way Ingrids’ hand was splayed across your stomach, or the way she smelled like… trees, but sweet. Like tree scented candles, maybe. Instead, you forced yourself to pay attention to her bony elbow, which was digging into your ribs from how she was laying.
You grunted, trying to roll the girl off, and she allowed you to push her off with another giggle.
There it was again, the laugh that could have lit up a million dark rooms. 
Ingrid got up to her knees, showing Mapi a thumbs up as the other girl had begun to make her way over to check on the both of you. Just like she’d done at the match, Ingrid offered you her hand, and you took it. Once again, you forced yourself to stop liking the way the girls’ skin felt against yours. 
As you climbed back to your feet, you tripped over your own laces and stumbled. You expected yourself to fall right back down to the ground, but were instead met with two steadying hands on your shoulders. 
“I do not remember you being this clumsy.” Mapi said to you, and you tried not to look at her. You caught the barest of glimpses of her face, the small scar in her eyebrows that you did not recall her having when you’d dated. Her brown eyes, which held the slightest bit of concern as they took you in, and her lips– tilted slightly up despite the way which she regarded you.
The way she was touching you had your mind reeling once more. Mapi’s palms were firm against your shoulders, reminding you of so many different times which she’d held you just like this. The tips of her fingers just barely brush over the skin of your arms below your sleeves, alighting all new memories which you’d buried long ago.
A blush rose to your cheeks as you registered Mapi’s words. There was nothing to them, as they were spoken rather flatly and so unlike the Mapi you knew– the one full of energy and passion, no matter what she was doing or saying. Despite that, the way Mapi nonchalantly seemed to refer to the fact that she used to know you… you tried so hard not to think about it.
Your mind, however, has always been your greatest enemy. It replayed Mapi’s words and the meaning behind them again and again, even as you stepped away from your ex-girlfriend. Your entire body screamed to step back into her space, just to hear her talk to you again, to feel her touch against your skin.
You had more self-control than that, thankfully, and turned away from them. 
You were thankful for the whistle blowing, signaling the end of the drill. You saw Ingrid hold her hand out to you for a high five… or something, but a jolt of nerves overcame you. You were afraid of what you were feeling towards Ingrid, someone who you certainly should not have been feeling anything for. On top of that, despite how cold and neutral Mapi was towards you, you felt the same kind of attraction towards the Spaniard as you did for the Norwegian. 
As you continued through the training session, several things plagued your mind– Ingrid’s laugh, Mapi’s words, and memories of Mapi’s touch, as well as Ingrids’ hand against your abdomen. Your mind was quickly spiraling, faster than you could control it.
By the time the day was done, you were ready to go home and try to go to sleep early. You were, however, stopped by your captain in Alexia Putellas before you could leave.
“Tenemos… we have team bonding tonight. I will send you the address and information, vale?” Alexia had blocked you from leaving the locker room with her body standing in front of the door. The way which she had positioned herself, combined with the way she looked at you as though you were some caged animal made you feel as though she knew more about how you were feeling than you were ready to admit.
Instead of verbally responding, you nodded. Alexia looked like she wanted to say more, but instead awkwardly moved to the side. You brushed against her, but felt nothing like you had for Ingrid or Mapi. You knew that it was a good thing that you didn’t have feelings for your Captain, but a part of you was still… disappointed.
A part of you had hoped that you could blame your attraction to Ingrid and Mapi’s touches to the fact that you hadn’t been touched or comforted in a long time. The fact that you didn’t want to curl up in Alexia’s arms from the barest of touches had you feeling… wound up, almost. You were incredibly frustrated, because you knew you couldn’t find the relief that your body yearned for in another person who would be so much easier to confide in.
As you made your way out of the locker room, your mind continued to reel and ponder the thoughts which had kept you sleepless for days.
Mapi and Ingrid watched you leave, the barest of frowns on their faces. They had noticed how you’d been acting– first, at the match, and now at your first practice. It had been Mapi who had pointed out the way that you leaned into Ingrids’ touch, and the way that you seemed to avoid eye contact. The Spanish woman had noted the black eye bags which deepened below your eyes, and the way that your shoulders sagged.
Ingrid had noticed it, too, and both girls felt helpless. They’d discussed Mapi’s relationship with you prior to you joining the team, and had come to the agreement that they would act professionally towards you. Mapi couldn’t discard the anger that she felt towards you now, even years after the two of you had broken up. 
You’d been her first love, and when you’d broken up with her to be with someone else, Mapi had been torn in half for years. Even more so when she realized that you’d been cheating on her. 
Ingrid had helped fix the parts that Mapi had never trusted anybody else with after you, and Mapi was incredibly reluctant to allow you back in.
Even so, neither girl could get the way that you were acting around them out of their heads. You were acting strange, and while Ingrid didn’t want to bring it up with Mapi due to the fact that the girl was still hurt over you, she felt like you needed help.
Both girls were confined to simply watching from the sidelines, aware that there was something wrong with you. What they didn’t realize, however, was that they were what was wrong with you.
-----
Two hours later found you driving to your captains’ residence for a mandatory team bonding movie night. 
You were all too aware of the fact that you were late to the event, having been unable to decide what to wear. You wanted to look nice– for Ingrid and Mapi… and the rest of the team, of course, to make a good first impression on them outside of training. 
However, you continually shrugged off each article of clothing that you put on. Each piece was either too formal for a movie night, too informal, too baggy, too tight… nothing was making you feel like you needed to feel.
Finally, after half an hour spent debating, you settled on a Barcelona team hoodie which you’d received that morning and a pair of plain black shorts. You slid a pair of socks and sandals on, a style which you refused to drop despite many of your friends making fun of you for it. Then, you were out the door, jogging towards your car in the parking garage as you realized you should have been at your captains’ house five minutes ago.
You hummed along to whatever Spanish song was playing on the radio, as you couldn’t be bothered to waste time by connecting your phone to the bluetooth speaker of the vehicle. Your thumbs tabbed nervously against the leather of the cars’ steering wheel, and you tried not to think about how nervous you were.
You tried especially hard to not think about who was making you so nervous.
The minute that Alexia’s door was opened for you, however, you caught sight of the two girls who were, by this point, living in your head rent free. Really, you should have considered asking them for money for the way that they were in your mind most of the time.
Faintly, you registered the sound of Alexia shutting her front door behind you. Then, you felt her hand on one of your shoulders as she ushered you further into her home. Mapi and Ingrid’s gazes both tracked up to you, but as soon as they were looking at you, your gaze looked away.
You shuffled awkwardly towards the rest of the team, your gaze almost panicked in the way that it was trying to find a place for you to sit down. 
You’d never been so jumpy or nervous around other people before. Now, however, you felt like a fish out of water with the way you were struggling in front of these strangers. You could usually fit into any crowd like a glove, but were struggling to do so now, when it mattered to you and your career. You figured it was due to the tension between Mapi, Ingrid, and yourself. 
Your hands tapped nervously at your sides, fingers shaky. Your nervousness was obvious to everyone in the room, and each girl ached to comfort you. However, due to the fact that you were new and none of the girls really knew you, they didn’t know how.
Slowly, Mapi shifted over. The way you looked– so small and exhausted, was unlike the person she was used to seeing from you. She wanted to help you, despite the fact that she still held a grudge against you. She’d tried so, so hard to bury her feelings for you, but she couldn’t help but still care for you. 
She still noticed the small things that had made her fall in love with you in the first place. Your kind eyes, and your smile, as well as the way you always checked in on the people around you. You were always keeping an eye out for your teammates, your friends, and your family, and you had a passion about you and a stubbornness that reminded Mapi so much of her own. 
Before Mapi could think better of it, she was raising her hand for you to sit in the space that she’d cleared for you– a small space between her and Ingrid. If you sat there, it would mean that you’d be squished between your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend.
Ingrid tried not to let the surprise show on her face as Mapi moved and beckoned you to come sit between them. She watched your face carefully, however, and surveyed the nervous expression on your face. So many emotions flitted across your facial features– surprise, confusion, and an emotion that she couldn’t really recognize. 
You were conflicted, trying to figure out whether you physically and emotionally could sit between the girls. You knew what their touch did to you, and you felt like they would simply overwhelm you if you went to them. On the other hand, the space between them was the only one available, and you didn’t want to turn Mapi’s kind gesture down. 
You began to make your way over, all-too-aware of the way your nerves heightened as you stepped closer to the couple. Suddenly, though, someone grabbed at your ankle, nearly tripping you. 
You looked down and nearly screamed in relief as you recognized your England Lionesses’ teammates. Lucy and Keira were bundled up in a blanket on the ground, sharing a bowl of popcorn between them. 
You didn’t think either girl knew about your history with Mapi, but you knew Keira could sense your nerves in the way she was looking at you. It was similar to the way Alexia had treated you earlier– like a wild animal. 
Keira patted the seat beside her, going so far as to lift the edge of the blanket for you to scoot in. Gratefully, you sat down beside her, not daring to risk looking behind you.
If you had, you would have seen the way Mapi frowned at you. The Spanish woman had, despite herself, wanted to sit next to you and Ingrid. She didn’t know why, but she felt like it was right, and a part of you missed your touch… your presence, actually. 
When you’d smiled at Ingrid earlier, Mapi had been insanely jealous. 
At first, she thought she’d been jealous of you, because she’d always been rather protective of Ingrid. However, Mapi later realized that she’d been jealous of Ingrid. The older woman knew that she still had feelings for you, of course, but she was slowly beginning to realize that she had feelings for both Ingrid and you, which was sending her into a downward spiral of confusion. 
Ingrid, too, was in a similar position to you and Mapi. She had yet to broach the topic with her girlfriend but, as she watched Mapi look at you, she realized that she would have to talk to Mapi sooner rather than later. She recognized the emotion that she’d seen on your face only moments ago, because it was now on Mapi’s face and, more than likely, on her own. 
Love. No matter how shallow the feeling, Ingrid could recognize the flickering emotion within her heart– a shy nervousness that impacted her whenever she interacted with you, or Mapi. 
You were unaware of the conflicted thoughts that the couple was going through behind you, however. As soon as Keira wrapped her spare arm around your shoulders, you rested your head against the girls’ chest. You and Keira had always been close on your national teams, having played together for a very long time and had similar personalities that allowed you to understand each other. 
You felt safe enough in her arms, and that safety allowed you to fall asleep for the first time in longer than you cared to admit. As soon as Keira realized that your breaths had turned deep and that you’d become limp against her, Keira refused to move.
She’d recognized your exhaustion during practice and wanted you to sleep as much as possible. 
For an hour and a half, you slept fully and contentedly against one of your best friends’ shoulders. For an hour and a half, your thoughts were cleared of anything related to a certain Spanish or Norwegian woman. For an hour and a half, you knew peace.
Then, you woke up to Mapi shaking you awake. The girl was gentle with her grip, and you were confused for a moment. Your hand raised before you could think better of the motion, and you slapped her hand away.
Mapi backed up a step, her face speaking volumes for how hurt she was by the action. You saw pain behind her expression, and you felt instant regret for the way which you’d shoved her away. You could barely stand to be touched by the woman that you couldn’t have, because she made you feel things that you hadn’t felt for years.
Her girlfriend behind her gently took her hand, drawing her close to her. Ingrid looked at you over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t look angry, just confused and concerned, but she didn’t speak as she and Mapi walked away from your bundled form on the floor. 
You had half a mind to get up and run after them. You yearned to scream your feelings for them out loud, just to get them out of your head. 
You realized how ridiculous the idea was as soon as you thought of it. Instead, you were sentenced to watching the couple walk away from you, aching to comfort them and aching for them to comfort you. 
As it was, you weren’t apart of their relationship, and you knew that you didn’t deserve the comfort that you ached for. As the door shut behind them, you tried to blink away the tears which threatened to spill out of your eyes, dismissing yourself as well. 
You quickly got up, leaving the room to find Alexia’s bathroom. There, you rapidly splashed cold water on your face to try to break yourself out of the reverie you were in.
It did nothing but shock your system and, as you rested your forearms against the white porcelain of Alexia’s bathroom sink, your eyes observed your exhausted form in the mirror. 
There you’d gone, breaking the promise that you’d made to yourself– the promise you’d made to get rid of the feelings you’d had for the couple. 
As a tear flitted down your pale cheek, you wondered if ignoring your feelings would be the end of you. However, you reminded yourself that you would only make things worse by having feelings for the pair. 
You had to keep your promise, even if it meant feeling nothing at all ever again. 
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leahswife · 1 month
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"mira, alexia"
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summary: your national team is playing against spain and you can't help but tease your girlfriend and your club teammates before the game
the euro qualifications had been eventful, to say the least. you were proud you and your national team were able to qualify far enough to play against such a strong team like spain, but you knew your club teammates were going to be relentless and it was going to be no easy game for you.
nonetheless, you tried to keep the atmosphere light and playful, despite the anxiety filling in your chest and knowing how much this meant to everyone. but that didn't mean you couldn't have a conversation with your rivals during warm-ups, especially when you saw your girlfriend looking so focused. if it wasn't for the smile she gave you when entering the field with her team, you could swear she hadn't even acknowledged your presence.
you wouldn't take too long. besides, you were known for your teasing behaviour so it was no surprise to anyone for you to try to keep the light mood. you walked over to the spaniards, standing silently behind a stretching, clueless aitana. alexia immediately saw you when you were approaching and noticed the mischievous look on your face which prompted her to give you a stern look. that only made you snicker when you pushed your knee slightly against aitana's behind, throwing her a bit off her balance and plant her hands on the ground.
"mira, alexia. i'm gonna injure your players." you said, as you pulled softly on ona's braid, who quickly swapped your hand away. alexia rolled her eyes but didn't hide the amused smile on her face while she was focusing on her drills. aitana, however, quickly stood back up on her feet and turned around to look at you with a glare. you smiled and pinched her cheeks, "mi aitanita, no te enfades conmigo (my aitanita, don't get mad at me)". she couldn't help but smile at your accent when speaking spanish but was quick to put on her professional face again. "que haces aquí? go practice with your team, we have an important game, y/n." 
"i know baby, i just came to tell you how beautiful you looked." she scoffed, "no, you didn't." she crossed her arms. you weren't too much of a fan of pda but you don't know what it was about aitana, you've just always gravitated towards her and weren't shy to give her physical affection. you put your hands on her waist, not wanting to overstep in such a public place, with way too many cameras to count. "you're right, i came to ask you to let us win." you stuck your tongue out and she rolled her eyes at your statement with a smile, knowing you too well and when you were joking. you melted at the sight, aitana's smile never failing to make your heart flutter. "you wouldn't really want that." she said. you gave an exaggerated sight, "i knowww, sportsmanship and all, blah blah."
"you're such an idiota."
"you love it."
"i do."
you squeezed her waist and looked at her lips, frustrated you couldn't do more. so you blew her a kiss "i'm gonna kick your ass, bonmatí" "you better, y/l/n." she giggled and you let go of her waist, getting ready to go back to your team. she grabs your hand, "hey." "hmm?" "you'll do great, okay? i'm very proud of you." she said, with a soft smile on her face. of course aitana could see right through you and your jokes and see the anxiety within it all. that meant a lot to you and you made sure she knew that "thank you. really." you squeezed her hand before letting it go and running back to your team.
the match was ruthless, as one could expect when facing one of the best teams in the world, but you and your teammates fought hard and managed a goal in the back of spain's net. and no one could deny your defense definitely deserved a praise for the work they put in to defect all the shots spain got. still, that wasn't enough to put you in the lead, having lost 2-1. 
when the final whistle was blown, the crowd cheered for spain and the players who were on the bench quickly ran over to the rest of their team on the field to celebrate. you and your teammates were exhausted, some on the floor crying, but when your captain and coach called you to gather in a circle, you all came around. after a motivational speech from your coach and praising you for how far you've come, you couldn't help but feel the pride of your hard work. you played well, you knew you could improve but nonetheless, it was a good game. and you kept spain on their toes. that was fun.
after a bit, you all scattered around the field, thanking your fans for the support and congratulating your opponents. you reached alexia and congratulated her, about to tease her and call her 'la reina' but she cuts you off and wraps you tightly in her arms "you did well, nena". you couldn't help the tears that filled in your eyes. getting approval from someone you admired so much got to you and you were never really good at hiding your emotions. "heyyy" she cooed softly, cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that started to fall down. you wiped your nose on your wrist, "see? now i'm all gross. muchas gracias, ale." you tried to make light of the situation in order to control all of the emotions you were feeling, but whispered your thanks to alexia and hugged her once more before letting go.
you saw aitana standing at a small distance from you two, smiling. you could tell she was proud of you, but right now you wanted to praise her, this was about her. you ran up to her and lifted her up in your arms, aitana letting out a squeal of surprise and joy. you didn't care about the cameras anymore, aitana's happiness was contagious and nothing else mattered right now but her. you put her down and placed multiple kisses on her cheek. she giggled and pulled you closer by grabbing your shirt "you really did kick our ass, bebé" "hah, bet you were expecting a clean sheet, weren't you, ballon d'or?". aitana was quick to slap your shoulder, "callate, idiota" reprimanding you for using that terrible nickname. she was too humble for her own good. "hey! you're hitting your girlfriend who just lost. have some empathy." she rolled her eyes but couldn't help the chuckle she let out, "your defense was making our job really hard, i have to tell you." she smiled up at you, her eyes bright. you wrapped your arms around her to pull her into a warm hug, snuggling your face in the crook of her neck. 
you just wanted to enjoy this moment, and having aitana's body pressed against yours was enough to make you relax, although you can't deny you wanted, needed her closer after having spent weeks apart. 
"just make sure you kick the french's ass." she snorted and nodded, "you know i will, bebé."
"meet me back in there for some smooches?" you winked.
"you know i will, bebé." she exaggeratedly winked back.
"ugh, get a room!" you don't even register whose voice is it that complained. you were too busy making out with your girlfriend outside of spain's changing room to care, but still chuckled into the kiss and pulled way. both of your lips were swollen and you could see the desire in aitana's eyes as she tried to pull you closer, even if at the moment it was quite physically impossible.
"go celebrate, okay?" you pecked her lips, and she whined, frustrated.
"i'll meet you at your hotel later, sí?" 
"am i your booty call, aitana bonmatí conca?" you fake gasped.
she grunted and wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you for a passionate kiss. "you are mi novia, and i want to celebrate with mi novia too." she pouted. your cheeks might start hurting from the amount of smiles this girl was able to pull out of you. "you are too cute, amor, can't wait to have you over later." your fingers grabbed her chin and pulled her closer, your lips brushing over hers, "i'll make sure you'll feel like a proper winner tonight."
a/n: yes i am terrible with titles and endings, sue me. also pretend that's reader in the gif hehe
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barcaatthemoon · 2 months
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faint || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you push yourself a little too hard before a big match.
all you had wanted was the opportunity to start in a big game. jonatan had played you as a starter in a few smaller matches, ones that he knew the team could handle with ease. with a few injuries, a spot had opened up that you knew you could fill. and so, you had begun coming in for extra training throughout the weeks leading up to jonatan picking his squad.
everybody had noticed the extra work you were putting in, but they didn't seem to realize the cost it had come at. lucy had been a little in her own head, so you couldn't blame her. besides, it wasn't like the two of you had reached the point in your relationship where you spent every single day together.
"are you ready?" you glanced up to see ingrid standing in front of you. the two of you had become fast friends when you joined barcelona. she had been a big part of you and lucy managing to get your shit together long enough to go on a few dates.
"i don't know if i'm ready, but i want this so badly. don't tell lucy, but i don't think i've wanted anything like this in a long time," you admitted. ingrid laughed, knowing that they weren't the same type of situation, but lucy would have definitely taken it as such. for as stoic as she liked to come off, you had learned firsthand how gentle lucy truly was.
once you were on the pitch, you tried your hardest to let go of your nerves. there was definitely still something off, but you were fairly certain that it wasn't nerves. you played better than you had in a long time, hopeful that a good showing today would lead to more starts for your club. you could feel your benchwarming days slipping away as you passed the ball to one of your teammates for an assist quickly followed by a goal of your own.
at the half, you felt utterly exhausted. your endurance was generally better than that. you tried your best to hide it as everybody went back out for the last 45 of the game. you didn't try moving around as much as you had before, but you still tried your best. many of your teammates were all sending you concerned looks, including lucy.
"hey, are you okay?" lucy asked as she noticed you swaying on your feet a little. it was a corner kick, and you were usually great at clearing these. you jumped up to head the ball away from your goal, and instead of landing on your feet like you usually did, you went straight to the ground. ingrid and lucy were on your sides instantly to check on you, only to see that you were unconscious.
"what happened? did she hit her head?" ingrid asked the surrounding players. nobody had any sort of real answer for it, which was only causing lucy to panic even more. she had never seen anyone go down like that, not without cause.
"luce," you said weakly. she looked down at you at the first sign of you waking up again.
"what is it love?" lucy asked softly. she brushed her hand over your head as she cradled it in her arms.
"can you move a little? your boot is hurting me," you chuckled lightly. lucy immediately shifted around a bit so that you were more comfortable. despite your claims that you were fine, everybody was insistent that you sub out and go down to the trainer's to rest. they made you lay down and take sips from an electrolyte drink. you were supposed to have taken a bit of a nap, but you couldn't sleep wondering whether or not the game was going well without you.
you wanted to go to the bench at the very least, but the trainers kept you in the cool, air conditioned room. it wasn't until some of the color had returned to your face and you were truly speaking clearly that they let you go back to the locker room. you had a late start showering and changing, but lucy was more than happy to wait for you. she had been ready to go whenever you initially walked in, but she was still standing there when you came out to get your things.
"can i carry your bag for you?" lucy asked. she was a great girlfriend, but she had never asked to carry your bag before. a part of you felt like you were a teenager in school again with your old boyfriend, but lucy was a trillion times better than he could ever be.
"you don't even like carrying your own bag most of the time," you teased. the small smile on lucy's face fell to be briefly replaced by a small pout. you handed your bag over for her to take before you took her free hand. "it means a lot that you're here for me."
"i'd be a pretty shit girlfriend if i wasn't," lucy pointed out. still, you knew that she wasn't just doing it because she felt like she had to.
"you've come a long way from who you were when we started seeing each other. i'm proud of you, luce," you told her. lucy blushed and tried to turn away from you, but there wasn't anywhere for her to go. you pressed a kiss to her cheek, deciding to leave things there for the time being. you could get sappy and make her blush later whenever she was trying to take care of you at her place.
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overtrred28 · 2 months
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Watch my shattered edges glisten| Leah Williamson x young!reader (platonic)
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Summary; Being so good so young brings a lot of attention to you, especially when you make a simple mistake. Leah notices you struggling and helps you as you begin to crack under the pressure. Inspired by "Mirrorball" by my mother, Taylor Swift.
Pairings; Leah Williamson x young!reader (platonic), lionesses x reader (platonic)
Words; 2k
Warnings; sad, swearing, angst.
A/N; Is it too much to ask just to be comforted by Leah. Sorry about the sadness but it's so fun to write and play it out in my head. A little it rushed but I wanted to get something out and i'm off work sick so very clearly bored atm. Enjoy.
It was no secret that Leah felt a need to protect you and basically adopt you when you entered the senior team just a few months ago. You were quite young, like most of the other girls were when they got their first call ups, but there was a naivety and innocence to you that she felt the need to take you under her wing very quickly.
You had excelled very easily in the youth and U23 squads, becoming one of the best defenders for your age and following closely behind in the footsteps of the one and only Leah Williamson. So when you got that call from Sarina inviting you to your first senior camp, you were both excited and extremely nervous to be in the presence of your biggest inspirations.
There was a lot of press when your call up was publicly announced, people who had watched you in the younger squads cheering you on and other fans ready to see how you would fit within the senior team. A lot of the younger players in the squad were more than excited to hear of you finally moving up, most of you playing together and growing up together at national camps over the years. So there was no reason for you to worry about when arriving at St Georges park for the first time.
But the thought about being in an unfamiliar environment with new people and a new team still made you nervous. So it was understandable that you were quiet and reserved for the first day, still greeting everyone but unsure of where your place in the squad was just yet. The girls you had grown up with were lovely as always but it had been a few years since you were all together, so it was different. 
That's when Leah knew she had to make the effort and ensure your transition to the senior squad was smooth and easy, making you comfortable with the girls which would benefit your performance on the field.
"Hey, y/n!" A voice called out to you, making you turn your head to find the Leah Williamson waving you over to her table. You swallowed your nerves before walking over to her with your breakfast tray in your shaky hands. She shifted over to make a space for you between herself and Keira. That was the first and certainly not the last time Leah had made sure you felt welcome and  supported on the team. 
A few camps in and everyone was calling you a mini Leah, not that you minded. You and the older defender had a lot in common, making it easy to get along and create a sisterly bond quite easily. 
Despite being in a lower-ranked team of the WSL, many people already knew who you were and were ready to support you as you joined the senior squad. This helped with your nerves as you waited to sub on during your first national game, hearing the home crowd cheer as your number displayed beside Leah's.
"You've got this little one." Leah whispered as she hugged you, making your heart swell and your eyes roll at the nickname before you ran out and took her place on the field next to Millie and Lotte.
It's safe to say your run with the national team has been going quite well since your first game, finding yourself appearing in every match and even starting in the two in the previous camp.
Your impressive defensive skills and tactics had been noticed when you were on national duty and during regular matches, causing your agent to call you with many offers from many different clubs in the WSL and even other leagues. But there was one that stood out and would be a no-brainer to transfer during the January window, especially as a place to work on your skills ahead of the World Cup this summer.
So you officially left the club that started your professional career at 18 just three years ago and set off to North London, moving into Leah's flat; nice and close to the Colney.
It was in a friendly against Australia where you made a simple mistake that would impact you and your career so harshly, so quickly.
3 months out from the world cup and this one mistake almost cost you your spot in the World Cup squad... or so you were made to believe.
It was a simple mistake that plenty of players all over the world had made before; stepping out that little bit too much during a tackle and risking the player you were trying to mark, especially with the current weather conditions. That's all it took. But you knew the moment your studs hit Kyra's boot, your match was over.
The whistle was blown within seconds of her body hitting the floor and her grabbing onto her foot where your studs had accidently landed. You looked down to where her team was beginning to surround her, frozen in place until a hand on your shoulder shook you out of it and your head moved the ref who was reaching in her back pocket. The red card came into view and although you knew it was coming, your heart still sunk as she wrote your number on the back.
A few of the England girls began to start arguing with ref that it should have at least been a yellow, but you knew there was no point, anyone could see that it was a definite red and you were officially benched for the rest of the game and the next one coming. So with a hung head you walked off the field and over to the tunnel, the voices of your teammates and the disappointed home crowd blurring into the background, everything feeling as though it was in slow motion as the rain continued to fall.
"I'm sorry." You spoke to Sarina who silently nodded her head at you, both a sympathetic and disappointed look on her face as you passed by and walked down to the change room.
You sat down on the bench in front of your cubby and stared down at the boots that let down the team and left them a man down with 20 minutes still to go.
There was something bubbling in your chest that should have been anger at the situation but it was just bitter disappointment in yourself and that was ultimately worse. Water formed in your eyes and your throat began closing up as you bit back the tears that were trying to escape, but you couldn't let them.
You ended up showering and changing into your tracksuit as you waited for the match to end and what you presumed would be a lot of upset teammates ready to storm in and hurl their anger towards you. You curled up in your cubby, headphones on but no music playing, and closed your eyes as you waited.
You were so buried within yourself that you hadn't noticed all the girls coming in and spotting you making yourself so small, breaking all of their hearts as they could see how hard you were taking this.
It was Esme who eventually disturbed you, tapping your shoulder gently, silently nodding to the door of the once again empty changeroom after everyone began to leave for the bus.
She threw her arm around you, tucking you into her side as you walked out to the back and towards the bus where everyone was waiting. Once again you were left alone by the girls on the bus, they could see you were utterly disappointed and didn't want to accidentally make it worse. So although you were sat by yourself, you could feel 22 pairs of eyes on you every so often, but most intensely from a blonde captain further back on the bus.
It didn't take long for the press to have their say on the incident, immediately shaming you for your mistake and basically flushing your name and reputation down the toilet. So as you mindlessly scrolled through social media on the way back, your feed was filled with posts and comments about the incident. You knew better than to read what they wrote about you, but you couldn’t stop, obsessed with reading every article that featured your name. 
Most of the comments were the same, things like "how dangerous it really could have been" and that you were "young and reckless and irresponsible with your choices as a defender." Deep down you knew they were wrong about you but it was hard to fight through the voices saying they were right and that you were a bad footballer. 
Leah started to get worried when you were not only ignoring the other girls, but then you began distancing yourself upon returning home with her. You stayed in your room as much as you could and tried to stay away from Leah but it was hard when living in the same house. 
The night that you got back she barely heard from you, wanting to respect your privacy for as long as she could but when she heard your soft cries through the door she couldn’t ignore it any longer. 
“Y/N?” She knocked softly on the door, waiting for a response but you stayed quiet. “I’m coming in okay.” She gave a warning before opening the door softly, her eyes instantly finding you tucked into the covers facing away from the door. “Oh little one.” 
Her soft voice made a sob finally escape and you began properly breaking down for the first time. She hated seeing you like this, contrastingly different to the bubbly, mischievous person you were known to be. She crawled up under the covers, rolling you over and placing your head upon her chest.
“What can I do?” She began smoothing your hair with her fingers, she knew this is what came with becoming a footballer in the spotlight but she didn’t think it would get you this early in your career. 
“Just hold me please.” Your voice was soft and broken, trying to stop the images and words they were saying from spiralling in your mind. 
“None of what they say is true, I need you to know that.” Leah spoke again after a few minutes of silence, finally feeling your breathing slow and the tears stopping. “It was an accident and you know it, I know it, she knows it and they know it too.” She was referring to Kyra who you had already sent a message to, apologising for hurting her and the media who were riling up a story to fill their articles full of nonsense for more money.
“This does not change who you are as a person or a player, it happens to everyone and it will go away once they find something new to talk about. But you need to ignore them.” She continued, waiting for any kind of response. “Promise me you’ll ignore them.” Leah looked down at you, tapping your head as a signal to look up at her. 
“I promise.” You gave her a small smile while nodding. 
“Come on, let’s go eat some smileys.” She flung the covers off and pushed you up with a laugh, getting one out of you for the first time since it happened. 
“You have the pallet of a five year old.” You shook your head as you crawled out of your bed. 
“And what about it?” She wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you exited out to the kitchen, pressing a small kiss to your head as you walked together. 
It was at that moment you felt truly grateful for Leah and all she had given you since joining the Lionesses and Arsenal. She took you in and gave you an environment to thrive and be comfortable in a new place when she didn’t have any obligation to. But you would forever be in debt to her kindness and never reject anything she gave to you. 
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prettyboykatsuki · 11 months
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WON'T YOU LEND ME YOUR FAITH? | R. ITOSHI
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❁ tags ; fem!reader (reader dresses femininely + is referred to as a girl / with she/her pronouns), reader is shorter than rin , strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, rin is soo teenage boy (and makes some annoying teen-boy comments), slow-burn, making out is as suggestive as this gets, stereotypical shoujo romance, usage of honorifics, coming of age
❁ wc ; 21.4k (insane. most insane thing ive ever seen)
❁ a/n ; i'm genuinely appalled by the length of this fic. how did that happen. what in the world. this fic is truly just. every single shoujou manga trope crammed into one okay. my silly little self indulgent romance !!!!
also this fic is sfw + takes place in their third of hs so im not gonna say mdni that's silly. however if you're a minor please do not follow me i post heinous dark content and this fic is a fluke in the timeline dskffjkfd
❁ synopsis ; the love story of a sensitive, stoic soccer player and an eccentric wannabe journalist
or that time you confess to itoshi rin, knowing he'll reject you, and asking to befriend him in spite of it.
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“I like you,” 
A breeze of wind passes.
“What?” 
You confess to Itoshi Rin at the start of the Spring semester. On the school rooftop with your head down. Bent at a near ninety degrees as you hold out what looks like a love letter.
For a minute, he can’t do anything more than stare. He’s received countless confessions in highschool. Half of which he rejected immediately, not even stopping to hear the full extent of their feelings. Why would he? The lukewarm ideas of first love had never been of interest. Even before his fight with Sae, Rin was always focused on his goals. 
After his second year of high school was spent in Bluelock, Rin has only returned for his third. He promised his parents he’d graduate properly, and Bluelock was off-season until Ego could fully prepare for the next stages. 
And a lot has changed since then. But some parts of him, namely his feelings towards the idea of conventional relationships, haven't changed at all. 
It’s only been a little less than three weeks since school had started, and by now he’s received more confessions than he can really remember. All of which he’s rejected coldly, and blankly, because Itoshi Rin has never been in the business of coddling anyone. Most of those girls he’s never even met. Knows nothing about them because they’re first or second years he’d never even spoken to. 
Rin, however, does know you. You’ve been in his class in all 3 years of his highschool, and he’s seen you around more than once. You’re in the newspaper club, which he remembers because you covered their winning match back when Rin was a first year. He wouldn’t call you friends, but you’ve spoken to each other enough that he can remember your name with a little effort. 
He also  remembers you being sort of annoying. You’re one of those loud and earnest types that he can’t stand. 
A year ago, Rin would’ve denied knowing you at all. But now that things with Sae have cleared up just a little - he’s not inclined to take his anger out on you. He knows you. Not well, but enough.
And if his reputation precedes him at all, then you know Rin too. You know that he’s never once gone out with a single girl in his 3 years of highschool and that most of the guys in all three grades consider him an arrogant jerk. You know that he mostly plays soccer alone during breaks and that he only really hangs out with one person. 
Which means you must know that he doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. And that he’s going to reject your confession without thinking twice about it. 
In the first place, he was just curious if you were stupid enough to do it. If you really called him up here for a roof-top confession. The fact that you were is what’s stifling him. Your words are familiar. He’s heard them so many times. But it’s baffling. It’s ridiculous. 
You lift your head to face him. You’re still smiling, though there’s something more there that he can’t understand. He doesn’t do well with people like you begin with. He finds himself backing away when you jog up closer towards him. 
He’s taller than you, he notices. You pick your head up to look at him and smile, toothy and at ease. You hold the letter up again and shove it towards him, though you don’t seem like you’re expecting him to take it. He stares at you. 
“I like you,” You repeat, smooth and bubbly. He frowns. 
“I don’t like you.” 
He has expectations for this part. Normally he receives a saddened look like a dog whose tail he stepped on or a fit of crying (sometimes genuine, sometimes with the intent of guilt.) Sometimes he gets an awkward smile trying to seem unbothered by the whole situation. 
You don’t falter though. You don’t even flinch at the words, cold as ice and steely. It throws him off. 
“I know,” You say back,  prying the letter away from him. You turn the other way, walking towards the metal grates and for a minute Rin wonders if you’re going to do something drastic. You don’t though, instead sticking your the paper in the air “That’s why I have a proposal,” 
He stares, absolutely dumbfounded. You turn again towards him. 
“I want to get to know you. And keep confessing to you,” You say first, and Rin immediately goes to reject you until you put your hands up “And I want you to keep rejecting me.” 
He’s baffled. Really. 
“What?” 
“So I can gradually lose my feelings for you. Nothing that different on your end, honestly..” 
It sounds annoying. It really does. If it were anyone else, under any other circumstance he would scoff and tell them to deal with their own shitty feelings alone just like everyone else. But there’s no hidden intention there. Rin’s always been good at sniffing that out. Your words are pure as can be.
Frustratingly simple and twice as sincere, no matter how confusing the whole thing is. 
“Why should I?” 
“We can be friends,” You reply like it’s the best deal he could ask for. “Isn’t that enough? Not like you really have any right now.” 
He scoffs bitterly albeit he can’t counter you. 
“Friendship is lukewarm. I don’t care about any of that stuff,” 
“Lukewarm? Really? Then..think of it like I’ll be your shield. You hate when people socialize with you right? I’ll help you deal with it.” 
That doesn’t sound too bad actually. On top of that, he’s kind of curious what your deal is. He rolls his eyes at you, turning to face the other way. 
“Do whatever you want. It’s not like it matters.” 
His response makes you beam. He hears you shout from the otherside of the yard, followed by the sound of your footsteps noisily thudding against the concrete as you try to catch up with him. He walks faster than you just to spite you for earlier, but he hears your last words through a huff of breath. 
“Jeez, you’re fast. I’ll see you at lunch, be prepared!” 
Somehow, he feels like he’s crossed paths with something he shouldn’t’ve. 
__
You keep up with your end of the deal with Rin to the best of your ability. 
The upsides of your arrangement is that the usual annoyances Rin has to deal with have decreased significantly in the time you’ve been hanging around him. You’re very good at using your speech to sway conversations one way or the other without upsetting the other party.
Normally, Rin’s rejections for different things leave a bitter taste in the air. He’s never been good at mincing his words for anyone and while it doesn’t affect him - the strange stares and whispers he gets are a little annoying to deal with. People always take his disinterest personally. Rin has always hated that. He was probably a little gentler about the denial before but still. 
While other people are too stupid to pay it any mind, you’re clever at turning the tides your way. You always manage to completely divert their questions without making them feel uncomfortable. Rin has tried, many times, to actually break down how you’re doing it. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to replicate it, no matter how much he studies you. 
He’s reluctant to admit it, but really, your presence has significantly lowered the number of obstacles in his daily life and made him overall, less irritable. 
Instead of many annoying things, there’s only you. Which is tolerable in comparison. 
You also expect him to uphold his end of the deal. For the most part, this has just meant you inserting yourself into his usual activities. It started out small enough, mostly just you sitting with him during lunch. It draws too much attention to eat in the classroom so you both fuck off to the roof. 
(You often joke about how romantic it is, reminiscing on your rejected first love with as much melodrama as you can muster. 
Rin never laughs about it to your face, but he admits it’s funny. Your stupidity is mildly amusing, at least ) 
There, you eat lunch together. Rin learns you make yourself colorful bentos from time to time- though some days are much less elaborate than others. You like to unwind that way, your designated and nightly me-time. You work part-time, and you take care of your neighbors kids by helping them every morning and night. 
Rin doesn’t ask you for more, not willing to deliberately show interest. 
But you notice his curiosity for better or for worse and explain that she, the woman next door, used to make you dinner back when your parents were too busy. You have an older brother who's nearly twelve years your senior so you were alone for most of your childhood. She had children late, but they feel like your little siblings. So you help them in the mornings and in the evenings when you have time. 
Rin learns you, funnily enough, have a sense of obligation towards other people that he can’t fully comprehend. He forgot there were people like that. In an environment like Bluelock that is so dead set on fostering ego, it’s easy to forget something so simple. 
You haven’t confessed to him again since that time. Not like he’s expecting it, but given your personality he wonders why. He thought it’d be more of a daily occurence, something like a bit you did. But you never do. Even when at times, it’s so heavy in the atmosphere even he can tell you want too. 
Admittedly, Rin wonders a lot more about you than he cares to. He wonders why you spend so much time with him when you have plenty of other friends who seem to cherish you. He wonders why you care so much about the dying club you're in. He wonders if this, in some strange way, stems from some kind of obligation.
He wonders, sometimes, what about him you could even like. It’s probably something stupid. You’d probably think long and hard before going on to say that you like him because he’s handsome or cool. Something shallow and meaningless. 
He tells himself that when he starts thinking about it again. 
__
Rin gets roped into cleaning the classroom with you. 
He’s used to being paired with other people. But he’s never had to do with you before, even in the years prior. Or maybe he did. He doesn’t recall much of his first year. 
Still, now that it’s already mid-May, Rin has never been on cleaning duty with you. He’s conscious of the sound of your name these days. It’s not something he’s happy about. 
It’s a simple affair. Just 15 or 20 minutes. Nothing to talk about. Not really. 
But, today you’re alone with him. Alone in an empty classroom with light pouring through the windows and reflecting off of the wooden desks. You’re busying yourself with wiping down the chalkboard, humming quietly. Rin has the broom and dust pan, slowly working himself towards the front of the room. 
It’s mostly quiet. Just your humming. The soft thud of a dust pan, a gentle brush of the bristle. 
Rin feels a crick in his neck, half-way done with the task at hand. He stares at you, off in the front. In your own little world as you fix everything up diligently without turning your head to look up at him even once. 
The nape of your neck is visible from the way you’re standing. There’s a chain there. Do you wear a necklace under your uniform? He can see the slope of your shoulders. The light reflects on you. 
It stops him dead in his tracks. All he can hear is the quiet. The soft humming of your voice. The thud of the dust pan, the woosh of an eraser. The gentle bristle of a broom. The sound of his own heartbeat, a little louder than it was a minute ago. 
He shakes his head. He goes back to sweeping. 
__
“Why do you look like that?” 
You look depressed. For Rin, this expression on you is unusual. You do look sad sometimes.  Somber, occasionally but the look you have on your face right now is down right harrowing. You’re staring blankly out into the open, sitting in the usual spot the two of you have lunch at. But you’ve hardly touched your food and your favorite juicebox (a lunchtime staple) doesn’t have a straw in it yet. 
It’s freaking him out, quite frankly. He stares at you, waving a hand in front of your face until you click back into reality. You jump in your skin at the sight of him before taking a deep breath once you’ve realized who’s in front of you. 
“Oh. It’s just you. Sorry,” You say, immediately going for your juice. See? “What did you say?” 
He sighs, sitting down next to you with his own lunch. Nothing special, something his mom likes to pack when he’s at home - though he doesn’t often take it. He opens up his own tin, taking chopsticks out attached from the top. 
“I asked why you looked like that.” 
“Like what?” 
“Like someone just died.” 
You look at him morbidly, clasping your hands and leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. 
“My midterm grades,” You say solemnly, voice wavering ever so slightly “They’re detestable. A shame to my bloodline.” 
Rin looks at you plainly. 
“Aren’t you an idiot to begin with?” 
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m average. Super average. But I scored even lower than usual and I’m concerned. I need to do well on the next one and on my entrance exams.” 
Oh, right. Rin forgot since he has no plans to take any. 
“Do you know what you want to do for college?” He asks, mostly out of obligation. 
“I want to study journalism.” There’s a wispiness to your way of speaking. It gives the air a sentimental feel. “There’s a private university with a good program I want to get into but they’re kind of tough. So I have to focus and do well,” 
“What subject are you struggling with?” 
You deflate all over again. 
“Chemistry and Classical Japanese,” 
Rin does well in both subjects. He thinks it over, and decides he can consider this payback. That’s all it is. He’s never liked owing people for favors and while you say this much is enough - Rin can rest assured about your little deal if he’s actually been of use to you in return. He remains impassive as he takes a sip of water. 
“Do you want me to help you study?” 
You turn to him immediately, suddenly full of life. He doesn’t like the gleam in your eyes, an immediate regret settling in as he stares at you, eyes full of disdain. You don’t hesitate grabbing his hand, putting it to your forehead and bowing deeply as you face him. You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing around him. 
“Are you serious? Really? Forreal? Do you mean it?” 
“If you keep being  a dipshit I’m going to take it back,” 
You pull away, hands folded in your lap, going stone faced.
“I would be very grateful,” You say, hands clasped in front of your face. He rolls his eyes. 
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” He says bluntly, staring out into space “I just don’t want to owe you any favors.” 
This you laugh at, leaning back on the wall behind you - with your legs stretched out. 
“Don’t worry,” You reply, self-assured. “Somehow, you asking me to study with you so innocently really cements it in that you don’t have a shred of affection for me.” 
Something in him stirs. He ignores it. 
“Never in a million years.” 
You laugh light-heartedly. 
“You’re so cold to me, Itoshi-kun.” 
“You still call me that.” He grimaces. You stare at him confused. 
“How else would I call you?” 
“When you use my last name it reminds me of my brother,” 
“...Are you implying I should use your first name?” 
Oh. Shit. That is what he sort of said, isn’t it? 
“No,” He denies, somehow unable to come up with anything worthwhile “Don’t address me at all.” 
“Eh? But that’s impossible? I can try but,” 
Only an idiot like you would think to actually try. He shakes his head. It’s no good after all. 
“Shut up,” He decides, because there’s not anything else he can think to say “We can study at the library.” 
You’re quick to reject the proposal. 
“We have to pick somewhere else. Like a cafe or something,” You say, not looking at him. You have your phone pulled up now, looking for places nearby. He’s lost again. 
“What? Why? Isn’t it easier if it’s at school?” 
You glance over at him wide-eyed, before suddenly smiling. It’s a knowing smile, almost like you feel sorry for him. He wants to ask why you look like that. It’s weirdly guarded and he hates that from you. He stares at you, trying to will you to explain yourself. You’re good at reading his thoughts, frustratingly enough, so he’s not accustomed to asking. 
Which means your lack of answer is deliberate, and even with the pressure he’s putting on you, you don’t budge.
“Trust me on this one,” You voice light and airy. “It’s better if we find somewhere away from school, too. There’s still some time to look, so no rush.” 
He lets it go because he doesn’t have any other choice. Lunch passes and you talk like everything's normal.
The question lingers in the back of his mind. 
__ 
Rin spends most of his time between classes watching soccer. If he has some free time on his day off, he’ll look for a new movie to watch. There’s a new foreign film coming out from a director who he really likes and he’s just finished watching the trailer.
Thirsty, with nothing to do - he stands to his feet and briefly surveys the classroom. He wants a drink and there’s a vending machine down the hallway with a sports drink that tastes like..something. 
His airpods are close to being dead so there’s no music as he makes his way. He’s not a fan of being forced to listen to the chatter of the general populace so it’s not that hard to ignore.  
It catches his attention when he hears your name in passing before turning the corner of the hall. It stops him dead in his tracks, something tense left in the syllables after . He doesn’t know why he stopped, not exactly. He figured it’d be annoying if his presence caused a ruckus. 
He’s used to people talking about you, though they usually describe you as a busybody. The Senpai who’s everywhere. A hand in every jar, or something like that. But there’s a tone to that, mild amusement - never malice, that Rin is more than accustomed to. 
This is not that, he notices. He leans on the wall and listens. A group of girls. Some of the voices he recognizes. They’re from the third year classroom down the hall. 
“It’s like, I don’t know,”  Eto-san, he thinks. She’s come up to him before, more times than he can really count on one hand. Rin knows the type. Kind but not really. To the point it’s hard for anyone to call her out on it. “It’s weird how much she hangs around him. She’s not a bad girl or anything,” 
The addition makes Rin’s eye twitch. Yeah. He’s very familiar with this type. He keeps listening. Another voice, but he has no idea who this one is. 
“Really? But Senpai is pretty kind to me,” 
“Mm, I guess so. I just wonder if it makes Itoshi-kun uncomfortable, you know? With pushy people like that, it doesn’t matter how blunt you are. I just worry about him a bit.” 
If it wasn’t so annoying to listen in, Rin would laugh. He’s never understood girls. Especially not highschool ones. He doesn’t pay attention to that kind of social hierarchical shit to begin with, only forced to acknowledge it because other people do. None of it matters to him.
He does think back to what you said a week ago, about finding a place away from school to study. It clicks. You probably know they talk about you like this. Or you could surmise this outcome. Rin should expect that level of awareness from you. Sincere. Always attuned to everyone. Of course this is something you know but he doesn’t. 
Why didn’t you tell him? That’s annoying. It’s nothing he couldn’t deal with knowing. He would’ve got it if you explained it earlier. 
“Oh wow, you really care about him Eto-san,” 
There’s a soft chuckle that makes Rin annoyed. Is he supposed to feel grateful? They’ve barely spoken to each other.
“It’s not like that. It must be hard since he missed second year, that’s all.” 
With that, Rin decides to turn the corner. 
He’s a little pleased at the reaction. How everyone goes into complete silence when he arrives. He spares her a glance as he moves towards the vending machines, clicking in the buttons. A generic sports drink comes tumbling out of the bottom, and Rin grabs it with deliberate slowness - drawing out the unease. 
Eto-san gives him a blank stare before suddenly looking cheerful. She seems a little panicked, quickly trying to make conversation with him. The words don’t reach his ears as he stares down at her expressionlessly.
“Are you done?”  He says, ice-cold. She stutters at that. Rin suppresses a smile. 
“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry, were you busy?” 
“Yeah,” He says back, completely apathetic. 
He doesn’t plan on saying anymore in the first place. The little victories count. 
It does feel like some kind of magic when he hears your voice from the other end of the hallway. You’re practically shouting it, and following is the sound of the hall monitors telling you off for running as you barrel toward him full speed. He can hear the thud of your sneakers all the way till they skid to a stop. 
You’re out of breath, bent over your knees and messy as you put a hand up. Most times, he would be embarrassed. He’d even tell you off for being such an idiot. Right now, he finds the corners of his lips upturned as he stares at you from where you stand. 
“Oh, hey guys. Sorry, I had some business with this guy. Oh, Fujita-chan, your hair is cute today! I like how it looks up on you,”  You say, to the girl who was calling you kind just a minute ago “I hope he wasn’t too cruel to you. He’s actually afraid of women, it’s a generational curse. Every night he turns into a frog and—” 
You shuffle in front him, arms stretched out like a shield. He sticks his leg out and kicks your shin. You yelp in pain. 
“What the hell are you talking about? Shut up.” 
“Ow, you strong bastard. You’re a soccer player, please be more conscious of your kicks. What if you shattered my shin? I know you’re loaded but it’s the principle of the thing, you know—” 
“Stop talking or I’ll kick you a second time.” 
You go silent immediately. 
“Forgive me, Itoshi-sama. I’ve strayed from the path of righteousness. Alas, the people need you.” You say, turning around. 
“Speak clearly.” 
“Homeroom teacher wanted to double check with you about after graduation plans and told me to go get you.” 
“Why you?”
“I was already walking around for the newspaper club.” 
He nods, not needing any more explanation. 
“H-hey, aren’t you acting too friendly with him?” 
So she decided to speak. This makes you falter, just a little, and Rin detests the look of self-satisfaction on her face. He speaks this time. It’s not like he can’t fight any of his own battles. 
“It’s fine,” He says, not bothering to think about it. He looks at you, as you stare back at him where he stands, wide-eyed. Idiot. “I don’t mind.”
You grin at him. Big and rounded and stupid, with all of your teeth like you’re giddy. If the hallway monitor wasn’t up your ass, he figures you’d be skipping about now. You usher him into the hall, back where he came from, waving them off.
“Be seeing you guys, then! Bye!” 
And you’re off. It’s quiet until you’re both completely out of ear-shot. Before he can go any further you stand in front of him, hands behind your back with a dumb look on your face. He already knows what you’re going to say. 
“Hey. I really like you a lot. Just now… my heart was fluttering. I thought I was hallucinating,” 
“You’re a moron,” 
“Ahhh, what should I do? I’m all hot under the collar. Is this what it’s like being a maiden in love? It’s great.” 
“How can you say that knowing I’ve already rejected you?” 
“It’s because you’ve rejected me, I can say that.” 
And Rin doesn't really get it. He’s not sure he ever will. 
But you seem happy enough. He decides against prying. 
__
Somehow, you’ve ended up at Rin’s house. 
He doesn’t know how it happened. Really. 
He mentioned to his mother off-handedly that he needed to help someone study. He should’ve lied about it then, but coming off of running drills makes him pretty stupid. He uses most of his brain power when he trains. So in an altered state of mind due to dehydration, hunger and general exhaustion - he answered  honestly instead of lying. 
You’re helping someone study? Yes, they’re from my class. 
Is it a boy or a girl? A girl. We’re friends. 
You can’t study at the library? She doesn’t want to, so we’re trying to find somewhere else. 
Why not invite her here, if her parents are okay with it? Her parent’s don’t really pay enough attention to be bothered. 
Wait, what is he saying? 
Rin doesn’t know how it happened. Really. Really. He tried pretty hard to reject his mothers advances about the situation but he’s never been one to upset her. The whole thing with Sae really tore her up so they both had a silent agreement to try and get along at home. And since Rin is still living at home for now, he tries harder to listen to her. Even so, he wasn’t planning on yielding for this one. 
Rin is not immune to his mothers guilt. A long lecture about how her only sons never cared about anything but soccer and how she’s worried she’s never going to have grandchildren later, he finally gave in and gave you a call at his dinner table. 
He was hoping you would come through and reject the offer. Say something stupid about how that’s dangerous territory for a young girl in love and let his mom down gently. He forgot about your whole thing about responsibility and being a nice girl who gets along well with adults. 
And now, the door is ringing and Rin knows he’s going to open it to you. He mostly blames himself for not thinking ahead.
Rin opens the door on a Saturday afternoon and the first thing he thinks is that you’re not wearing your uniform. 
You look…different. It’s weird. Your hair is styled in an unusual way, tied with something like ribbon. You’re wearing something flowy and loose but the neck is a little rounder than usual. There’s a necklace there, a heart-pendant with a chain. You have in...earrings. 
Rin thinks vaguely that you look…something. He doesn’t know. But in his vision you’re like a troublesome and amorphous blob that yammers on about nothing. And right now you look…not like that. 
“You’re dressed up.” Are the first words to come out of his mouth. You blink at him owlishly.
“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to make a good impression on your mom so I tried not to look sloppy.” You say sheepishly. He leans against the doorframe. 
“She doesn’t care about stuff like that.” 
“Well I do, okay? Now, can I come in?” 
“The white slippers are for you.”
He steps aside and lets you in. You have perfect manners. He probably should’ve expected that. You take your shoes off neatly and place them on the rack the same way, slipping your feet into the slippers provided. Rin just watches, eyes tracing the curve of your neck. 
“Where’s your mom?” You ask.
“In the kitchen making dinner. You’re staying for dinner right?” 
You blink at him, surprised. 
“I mean it’s not like I can’t.” 
“She’d be upset if you didn’t.” He says noncommittally before walking you down to the kitchen. 
His mother is right where he expects. He stands in the corner as you shuffle in watching on. She turns around to look at you, wiping her hands on her apron. 
“Oh, my, you must be Rin’s friend? Such a lovely girl. Welcome! Welcome.” 
To this, you bow your head as deep as it can go. The air around you feels serious. Rin scoffs internally. There’s a strange feeling in his chest that he can’t describe, seeing you bowing in front of his mom. An itch he can’t reach, locked tight around his ribs. 
You give his mother your name first and she smiles like she’s absolutely delighted just hearing it. 
“Thank you for having me. I brought some fruit with me as a gift, I hope that’s alright.” 
His mom shoots him a look that Rin deflects by turning away, opening the plastic bag you’ve handed to her. 
“Oh my! Aren’t these expensive fruits? Please thank your parents for me!” 
“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I work part-time, so I paid for them myself. It was the least I could do. I’m grateful for the tutoring.” 
You tense up, realizing that might’ve been an awkward thing to say. It isn’t. Even if it was, Rin’s mother has always been soft-hearted. His dad tells him they’re a lot alike but Rin doesn’t see it. Whatever it may be, Rin’s mom is too doting and too sociable to let you feel bad. Right now she seems emotional, an expression between empathy and pride. She reaches for you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, patting your head gently.
“How diligent. Thank you, then, for the fruit.” 
Rin can’t see your face but it’s easy to picture. 
“Of course. And pardon the intrusion! And uhm, thank you for having me for dinner.” 
Clumsy. Rin thinks you’re clumsy. A flickering light. His mom laughs brightly and tells you not to worry. She leans in closer like she’s whispering but Rin can hear her loud and clear. 
“Rin can be very brash but he’s a good boy, so thank you for being kind to him.” 
He feels embarrassed. Even readies himself to intervene. 
“He is very kind to me.” 
Wait. What?
His mom smiles even brighter, and mouths something like ‘take care of her’ when you’re not looking. He wants to stop it before it starts. You’re not dating. You’re hardly even friends, you’re just here to study. Rin almost wants to shout it, but he’s stuck. Before he can do any of that, you’re turning around and smiling like you haven’t said anything strange. 
What do you mean he’s kind to you? When his whole thing is rejecting you mercilessly? Being cruel?
What kind of person would ever describe him as kind? 
He can’t find the words he wants to say, so he takes you to his room in silence. 
__
You both make it to Rin’s room in one piece.
You’ve been studying now for about an hour. Given your personality, Rin was expecting more of a fuss. He thought you’d make some comment about being in a boys room and then fight off the actual studying like the plague. 
Much to his surprise, you started studying with him right away. Rin tries his best to tutor you, though he does make fun of you in the process. But you’re a try-hard all the same, stopping only to ask questions and get clarification occasionally.
You’ve been focused that whole time, miraculously enough. Rin studies too, but only a bit, after deciding to study some recent matches instead. 
( Every now and again, he’ll glance at you. Just to see if you’re stuck or still working. Each time, he gets caught up on the fact you’re not in your uniform and has to tear his eyes away. ) 
After a bout of silence, you yawn out loud, quietly shutting your workbook. 
“I’ve finished all my practice problems for today,” You announce, before deciding to lay down on his floor “I’m beat.” 
“I thought you were gonna give up before you started.”  Rin admits. You frown at him. 
“I was serious about needing tutoring. Thanks for all your help.” 
“I already told you it’s fine. Is there anything else? Finals are next week.” 
You shake your head. 
“Mm, I don’t think so. One of the guys from the newspaper club helped me with math so I’ll be okay.” 
…Huh? 
“From the newspaper club?” 
“Huh? Yeah. Murata-senpai. We’re in the same year. He’s a few months older so he insists on making me call him Senpai.” 
“And he helped you with math?” 
“Yeah. He was a delinquent like, all of first year but he really cleaned up his act. He’s actually really gentle.”
Rin frowns at that. 
“Do people usually describe delinquents as gentle?”  
You make a noise of indignance from where you’re laid on his floor. 
“Hey. Murata-senpai is really nice, okay? And he is gentle, so I won’t tolerate your usual judginess.” 
Rin rolls his eyes. 
“How’d you even meet him?” 
“Uh…I wanted to write a column about him, basically. He was helping in the garden last year and I kinda…stalked him. It sounds worse than it is. I just wanted to know what made him change.” 
“So stalking people is pretty typical for you.” 
You sit up and gape at him. Rin suppresses a laugh. 
“Anyways. I eventually flagged him down for an interview. Apparently, he had a real scare with his granny getting sick and decided he needed to cut the shit. He’s a good guy. He joined the newspaper club after the interview,” 
“After the interview…?” 
You nod, leaning forward with your elbows on the table in front of you. 
“Uh-huh. Said he was interested because of my passion or something. He’s been really nice to me ever since and helps me with all of the ideas I have.” You soften as you talk about it. Rin feels an ugly emotion in his chest “I’m worried about what will happen to the club after graduation, but Senpai is always encouraging me to make the most out of the time we still have. So I’m really thankful for him. That’s why you have to be nice.” 
Rin is super annoyed. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed but he is. How do you not realize this guy likes you? He doesn’t know why he’s opening his mouth to tell you what’s so obvious. It’s not like it really matters. Rin doesn’t like you in the first place, so if he informs you that your beloved Murata-senpai has feelings for you - it’s no big deal. 
In fact it might be better for everyone if you realize. He’s just frustrated by how clueless you can be sometimes. 
“He’s interested in you,” Rin says, against his better judgment. It feels like the words are welling up in his throat “Your senpai or whatever.” 
You blink at him stupidly. He wonders if you’re wearing mascara. 
“Huh? I doubt that somehow. Senpai is kind to me but I think he sees me like a little sister.” 
He scoffs at you. 
“You would think that. Most guys aren’t just nice to girls they don’t like.” 
“Not everyone is like you, yanno.” You say back without thinking twice. That’s not the point this time, he wants to say. And he’s right for this one. Anyone else with half of a brain would realize. You’re just… you. Which means you’re absolutely unaware of things pertaining to you. It’s the only reason he can think you’d deny something so obvious. 
The only reason you could come to the house of a boy you liked just to study. 
“Shut up. I’m saying this because you’re too much of a dumbass to put it together on your own. The guy definitely likes you.” 
“I didn’t know you were a love guru,” You say sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Childish. Annoying “It doesn’t matter if he does.” 
“Why wouldn’t it matter?” 
You give him an incredulous look. 
“Unfortunately my heart is captured by an aloof sportsman.” 
He doesn’t know why he feels relieved when you say that. He feels his heart all the way in his throat like he’s going to throw it up, even though his expression remains impassive. 
“You already know I don’t like you, though. It’s a good opportunity, isn’t it? Don’t a lot of people move on that way.”
You shake your head. 
“I’m not that sort of wishy-washy woman.” You reply, huffing your chest up and trying to ease the tension. You stop to shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You wouldn’t get it even if I explained.” 
“It’s annoying when you do that,” Rin voices, not bothering to cut it any other way “You did that with the girls at school too. I’m never gonna get it if you don’t bother explaining it to me.” 
You soften at this, then whisper. 
“...Why do you care?” But it’s not said with any malice. It’s not said sadly either. Just curious. He freezes, but doesn’t let it show. He wants to ask himself the same question. 
“I don’t. It’s just,” And he scoffs, not looking at your face “It’s a pain.” 
You hum, not expecting more of an answer. 
“I want to treasure my own feelings towards you,” You say, and something in Rin feels like it’s being set on fire. “It’s not just about having a boyfriend. If it was, then I’d consider Senpai's feelings.” 
“...So it’s about me, specifically?” 
“Yeah,” You say without offering any more explanation than that “It is. I like you.”
The words but why, linger in the air. You seem to be feeling merciful, as you lean back on your palms and stare up at his ceiling. You wear your heart outside of your body, more often than not. And he thinks that part of you is so hard to get used to. 
“You’re really awkward. And aloof. And you don’t have any friends.” 
“Is this some kind of revenge or…?” 
“But. You’re also sensitive. The more I know you, the more I think you’re kind and well-meaning. You uh, remind me of a cat.” 
He blinks. 
“A cat?” 
“A cat. Sometimes they want their own space. And sometimes they knock your water off your desk for fun. Plus they only really care about people in their own circle,”
“Again, is this—” 
“Let me finish, jeez. They’re solitary creatures. But like when they accept you, they get comfortable. An’ nice . And they look out for you in their own way. To me you’re a lot like that.” 
You give him a smile so warm it makes his back hot. So loud and so vibrant like it burst out of him at any minute. 
“I’ve uh, always been interested in you. I watched you play in Bluelock too. I kept thinking to myself, there’s something about you. I want to know more, even if it’s just a little. Stuff like that.” You talk so quietly yet it’s all Rin can hear. All Rin can see in his vision is you. All Rin can think about is you. “I’ve always been interested in other peoples stories.  So I thought, what a waste it would be, to throw away that feeling because of something like love or like. I thought, ‘What's your story, Itoshi Rin?’” 
Rin doesn’t know what to say so he chooses to say nothing. 
“When I confessed, I knew you would never like me. Because that’s just the sort of person everyone says you are. Still, what a waste, right? You miss all the shots you don’t take or whatever. So, I wanted to get to know you. I guess.”  
“I don’t get it. I get what you’re like but it still doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing special to know, is there?” 
“Feeling that is special, don’t you think? That’s a special reason to me.” 
He doesn’t follow. You laugh lightly. 
“If I never became interested in Murata-senpai’s story, I would’ve never been his friend. If I gave up on trying to know you, just because you didn’t return to my one-sided feelings, then I would’ve never gotten to know you either. Don’t you think that’s a waste?” 
Rin doesn’t know. He’s never really cared about it. He’s rejected so many confessions and never once thought enough about any of them in any depth. That part of you is foreign. He can chalk it up to a difference in character. He can’t understand wanting to know someone just because. 
(Or maybe he can. He just hasn’t until now. Until this very moment, suspended in time. Where he wants to know what things make you the way you are.) 
Some small, dark part of him wants to ask why. Over and over until his throat feels raw - long enough to understand it. Even as he grips onto that desire so tight, with such bruising force, the words sit in his mouth. They taste like iron. They taste like a bitten tongue. If you’ve watched him all this time, then you know. Being chosen. He’s never been confident in that. Rin wants to ask, why him? 
What’s so special? Enough to keep talking to him? Enough to do any of this? Is getting to know people is always this difficult, he wonders. Does it always feel uncomfortable to be in proximity with someone? 
In the end, he can’t bring himself to ask. He can’t even bear to examine it in himself, the sense of dread washing over him like sickness. He’s nauseous. And this time, there’s a residue of tension he’s finding increasingly difficult to ignore. 
You come through again. He wonders if you can read his mind just like you do with all the nobodies at school. 
“Rin-kun,” You say, your voice like the summer heat. “Getting to know you makes me feel like my feelings aren’t a waste. I’m happy getting to know you. I want to treasure that.” 
What happens when you run out of things to know? The question is too heavy. He settles on a different one. He wants to understand it more. Just to put himself at ease. 
“Isn’t being in the same room with someone who rejected you uncomfortable?” 
“Maybe. But there’s a clear line for me and you, so it’s cool. In like, ten years, maybe someone will interview me about you. As your classmate and stuff. And I’ll go - ‘He’s actually a really nice guy. I actually had a crush on him.’ If I can say that, without being regretful, then that’ll be enough for me.” 
“That’ll be enough for you? Really?” 
“Really.” 
“You’re so weird.” He says, unsure of what else he could possibly say. You giggle, and lay back down on his floor. 
“I knew you’d say that.” 
__ 
Summer comes. 
It doesn’t occur to Rin how often he sees you in school until it all comes to  a halt. He has your number, and you text him often - about unimportant and trivial shit that you think of. In that way, it doesn’t even really feel like you’ve separated. 
But the sudden absence of your chattering in his life makes everything feel especially quiet. Summer is a boring time for Rin. It’s mostly the same. Practicing and playing and studying. On the few occasions he’s been out, it’s because some of the other Bluelock members are gathering and refuse to let him know even a breath of peace.
He’s seen Sae now, though they never really talk about anything. Sort of just look at each other and exchange enough words that their mom doesn’t cry before going back to their room. Sae will be gone before school starts back up again, so Rin isn’t all that worried about it. 
It occurs to Rin for the first time that this summer will be the last of his highschool days. He’s never been sentimental about stuff like that - so he figures you’re to blame for these sudden thoughts. 
Your summer has been a lot busier than his. He should probably expect this from you by now, but your surprisingly youthful social life always shocks him. You’ve been working part-time as usual. In that time though, you’ve also been to the beach and been on an overnight trip to Osaka with your newspaper club. 
(Rin wasn’t happy to hear about this. He was relieved to know it was with a teacher and that you roomed with a girl. But still, not exactly his favorite of anecdotes for the summer.) 
You’ve invited Rin more than once to come hang out with you, but he’s basically always declined. The group setting is troublesome, but being alone with you feels even worse somehow. It wouldn’t be a date, obviously, but it would be something. Something deliberate. 
Rin doesn’t know if he can come see you in good faith for such a reason. 
It’s another day spent doing his usual. Being technical, it’s a rest day, which means he’s only allowed to stretch. He has done his basics. Studied, messed around with his ball, responded to a barrage of texts from Bachira and Isagi. He played games for a while, checking out a new horror game before deciding it’d be best not to get too sucked in so he has something to play next time. 
After all that, during a mid-August day while Rin sits on his couch and watches T.V., he receives a facetime call from you for the very first time. At first, he just lets it ring. But when it keeps ringing - he figures your persistence is going to continue unless he replies. 
He looks around. No one's home, so he doesn’t need to go to his room. He swipes, and the call connects. The screen shows him, propped up against something with a full shot of your room. You’re turned away from the camera. Rin just stares. 
“Oh, shit - did you actually pick up?” 
“Should I hang up.” 
“No! No, I just wasn’t expecting you. Don’t hang up. I need a guy's opinion.” 
“What? What for?” 
“I got in a fight with my brother about a dress I bought,” You say, exasperated, and Rin is surprised because you hardly see him. “I know he’s probably looking out for me but I don’t think we talk enough for him to be telling me how to dress.” 
“He’s older than you, right? Maybe you should listen to him.” 
“You’re the last person I want to hear that from. Either way, I’m not a kid. I’m already 18 and I’m going to college. It’s a cute dress! I feel like it’s fine.”
“So..why’d you call me again?” 
“I’m gonna try it on and show you. Murata-senpai is busy.” 
“You shouldn’t do that to a guy who likes you.” Rin deadpans. You laugh.
“Shut up. I really need an opinion. I wanted to wear it to go out today so if it’s actually too provocative then I have to change my outfit.” 
“Where are you even going?” 
“My friend needs to get a concealer, so probably the mall or something. After that I’ll go buy some stationary.” 
“Alone? What about your friend?” 
“She’s gonna go see her boyfriend.” 
“Why can’t you just go with them? Or ask them to go with you” 
“And third wheel? I’m good. I just need some stationary and then I’ll be home. Easy peasy. Anyway, what’s with the interrogation?” 
“It’s not interrogation.” He insists. You’re offscreen so Rin can’t see you, but he can hear the sound of a zipper echo in the speakers. He’s also sure you’re rolling your eyes. 
When you come on camera, the dress of the hour is on display. Rin’s first thought is to tell you to take it off. It is too provocative to him. The front is fine as is, but it’s nearly backless and it’s cut too high on your thighs. He’s never seen so much of your skin. Maybe that’s a given, since he didn’t go to the beach with you either. 
You give him a quick spin, before patting the front down. You say something, but the words don’t register. It feels like his brain is full of cotton or something. 
“So? Too much? I mean it’s backless but like. I don’t know, it’s kind of loose? And the sleeves are long. Neckline isn’t that bad, either.” 
Rin just says what he thinks “You shouldn’t go out alone wearing it.” 
You frown at him. 
“That’s not helpful, Rin-kun.” 
“It’s…fine. What time does your friend have to go?” 
“Probably right after we’re done.” 
He sighs. 
“Tell her to go with her boyfriend early. I’ll come with you to get your stationary.” 
“Wait, what? Did I hear that right? You’re coming to get me? After I’ve been hounding you to hang out? What’s with the change of heart?” 
“I don’t have anything to do since it’s a rest day. You need stuff and I don’t think you should be out alone. Don’t read into it.” 
“Kinda hard not too but I’m not gonna complain. Are you coming right now?” 
“Yeah. Send me your address.” 
__ 
Rin has no idea what impulse has brought him here. 
That’s not entirely true. What brought him to your apartment towards the end of summer is impulse. He acted on nothing but impulse.
Rin, for better or for worse, finds that you’re clueless about yourself. The fact you were going to call Murata-senpai is already bothering him enough. That, along with the fact you wore the dress and didn’t think it was too short is troubling. It’s not that Rin wants to tell you what not to wear. He doesn’t have the right but you did ask. 
Anyway, it’s a lot less agitating if you’re being accompanied while wearing it. Going alone in something like that, even if it’s the middle of summer, would be stupid.  
Rin doesn’t make it a habit of worrying about the outfits of girls he doesn’t know. He does know you though. He thinks you’d be really annoying if something happened and you got upset about it. So, all he’s doing is preventing that outcome. It’s nothing more than that. 
He knocks on your door as he shakes the thoughts out of his head, and he’s greeted by a man in his late twenties. It dawns on Rin that this is your brother. He really didn’t think this through. 
Your brother is an imposing person. He’s a head taller than Rin with a gruff voice and a scar on his cheek. Rin stares at him blankly. 
“Who are you?” 
“Itoshi Rin. I’m here for—” 
“Nii-san, tell Rin-kun to come inside and sit! I’m not done getting ready.” 
Your brother glares at him. 
“Who’s he? Your boyfriend? Is that why—” 
You come stumbling out of your room, half-dressed and Rin immediately averts his eyes. This is the most uncomfortable experience of his life.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He already rejected me, so we’re just friends. Stop fussing and let him in, it’s hot out.” 
“He rejected you?” 
Rin should just leave. 
“I already knew he was going to. Now move,” 
Rin doesn’t enjoy being involved in your sibling quarrel. Suddenly, he feels a twinge of regret about some old Bluelock memories. He understands it now more than ever, gaining a little empathy. 
Your brother moves out of the way. You’re standing in the hall, with a single stocking on and powder on your face he’s pretty sure is meant to be brushed. You grin at him. 
“Sorry! I won’t be long, promise. You got here faster than I thought you would.” 
Rin can feel a pair of eyes in the back of his skull. 
“Uh. Yeah. I took the bus so it was quick.” 
“It might be uncomfortable here. Do you wanna sit in my room instead? It’s colder but it’s kind of a mess—” 
“He can sit here.”  Your brother insists. Rin is never leaving his house again. You frown. 
“Didn’t I already tell you we’re not dating? He’s not even interested in me, it’s not like anything is gonna happen.” 
“It’s the principle of it.”  Yeah. Definitely siblings. 
“Whatever. If you make him uncomfortable, I’m gonna yell at you. Rin-kun, sorry. Do you need anything? Juice? Water?” 
Your hospitality throws him off. You’re different at home. 
“Uh. No. I’m okay.” 
“Okay, then I’ll hurry and get dressed. Nii-san, please be civil.” 
With that, you flounce back up to your room. Your brother is staring hard in Rin’s direction. He’s not intimidated. It’s just… so awkward it’s kind of unbearable for him. What do people usually do in this situation? Rin’s not exactly the sociable type.
“She confessed to you?” 
Rin is startled. 
“Uh. Yeah. In April.” 
“And you’re friends?” 
“She asked to be friends.” 
Your brother looks distressed. 
“I don’t understand that girl at all.” 
Rin doesn't either. 
“What’s she like in school?” 
Rin stares. Oh. He’s that kind of older brother. 
“Uh. Busy. She’s in the newspaper club so she’s always doing something. She has a lot of friends and gets along with our class.” 
“I see…that’s good. I’m always worried about her. Our family has  always been busy and I moved out when I was 18 so… we don’t see much of each other. She doesn’t talk about herself that much either.” 
Rin nods absently. What circle of hell is this? 
“She probably thinks I’m just being overprotective,” Bullseye “But I just worry she grew up too fast.” 
Rin thinks if he were a different kind of guy, now would be the time he gives your older brother an encouraging heart to heart. The script is there. It’s just not how he honestly feels. Rin doesn’t take pleasure in defending you. But it’s hypocritical and a little ridiculous to hear it from him.
Some of it is leftover resentment from Sae. The rest is knowing you.
You did grow up too fast. From what he knows about teenage girls, they’re supposed to be…meaner. More hysterical. More inconsiderate. Less responsible and more in the moment. Messy. All teenagers are, really. 
For all the ways you are clumsy and ridiculous, sometimes Rin thinks you’re too off-puttingly mature. It wouldn’t kill you to be more selfish. To be just a little less self-reliant. It’s not normal is it? To be so grateful for things you’re owed. It bothers him. Always has. 
Rin knows what the script is. But it bothers him. 
“If you know that then you don’t really have any right to intervene,” Rin says bluntly. “Suddenly acting protective and considerate when she grew up on her own  is just going to feel stifling. Aren’t you just trying to make yourself feel better?” 
He looks surprised by his answer. Hurt too. 
“I guess that’s right,” 
He frowns. 
“If you actually care, just be honest. She’s not the type of person to turn someone away on a grudge.” 
Before Rin can feel embarrassed about what he’s said, you come stumbling down the steps all dressed up. Your brother gives you a look. 
“Do you need any money?” 
You look at him confused then shake your head no. 
“Okay. Stay safe and have fun.” 
He turns to leave. You watch him go. Rin puts his hands in his pockets like he’s trying to wipe himself of it. 
“Weird… anyways. Ready to go?” 
“Yeah.” 
__ 
Your outing goes well. 
Outing. Not a date. No matter how many times people mistake you two for being on a date today - it was nothing more than an outing. 
You start with stationary for the upcoming term, then you drag Rin to the mall because you need some more clothes. After that, you go into a bookstore to pick up some manga. Rin has fun there because he gets to pick out some new releases and you bond mutually over your tastes. Rin learns both like thrillers. You spend a lot of time together, reading over his shoulder. 
It’s not a date. But it wasn’t bad. He’s so used to talking to you that the entire situation doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You’re funnier than he’s usually willing to give you credit for. Doing all that, plus train rides, makes it so you’re not home until sundown. You, however, refuse to end the night without having some kind of treat. After a lot of begging Rin to cheat on his meal plan, the two of you get ice-cream and you drag Rin to a local playground. Apparently you bring your neighbors' kids here sometimes. 
Now he’s here.  Sitting on swings with ice-cream and it is still not a date. Rin has no opinions on the day but you’re practically bursting at the seams with happiness. The dress you’re wearing is hiking up on your thigh from how you’re sitting. He was right to accompany you, by the way. The amount of creeps he’s had to stare down today alone is outright disgusting. 
Rin takes a spoonful of ice-cream and lets it melt in his mouth. You let your feet hit the mulch beneath you as you lick the ice-cream carefully - trying desperately not to let it spill on your hand. He watches on in amusement. After you finally get a handle on it, you give him a small look. 
“I had fun today,” You say sentimentally. Rin feels his stomach tie in knots “Thank you.”
He frowns. 
“Gross. Stop that.” 
“Aw, c’mon. You’re so edgy. Just admit you had fun! You had a fantastic and whimsical time.” 
He gives you an unimpressed stare. 
“Really? Nothing? You’re not feeling the flames of youthful joy in your loins at all?” 
“Describing it like that is disgusting.” 
“So you admit you know what it is.” 
Rin wants to smile. Fuck, he hates you. 
“...It wasn’t bad.” 
You grin. You’re so annoying.
“Ladies and gents, we got an ‘it wasn’t bad’ from the ever soulless Itoshi Rin!” 
Stupid. So stupid.
“It was more tolerable than hanging out with some of my other dipshit friends.” 
You clasp a hand over your mouth dramatically. 
“Oh…Oh wow… Do you want to try proposing next? The set-up is there. Perfect ambience.” 
His face cracks into a begrudging smile. 
“You’re insufferable.” 
You suddenly go quiet. When Rin looks at you, you’re stunned
“Why’re you being weird?” 
“No, sorry, I was just thinking I really like you,” You say, like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s nice.” 
“...Your ability to say cringy shit like that so easily is astounding to me.” 
“I don’t want to hear this from the guy who unironically uses lukewarm,” You say, biting into your ice-cream cone. Rin blushes. “Besides, nothing wrong with being cringe when you’re in love.” 
“Freak.” 
You give him a thumbs up. 
“One of a kind.” 
There’s a beat of silence. It’s comfortable. Rin eats his too, probably a little slower than he has to. Summer feels heavy in the air. 
“You weren’t always like..an edgelord, right?” 
Rin stares at you, perplexed by how sudden the question is. 
“Where’d you hear that from?” 
“Your mom after dinner. You already went upstairs. Said you had a nasty fight with your brother.” 
He doesn’t say anything, posture stiffening at the mention of Sae. 
“It’s not your business.” 
“Hey. No need for the attitude. I’m curious as your number one fan.” You say, trying to back off as much as possible. Like he’s some kind of feral cat you’re trying to calm. “Don’t be mad, okay? You don’t have to talk about it.” 
You try your best to be soothing and Rin softens 
He is angry. Not at you. Not really.  The mention of Sae just does that to him. And if anyone else even thought to bring it up - he’d probably tell them to go fuck themselves with nothing but bitter hatred. 
With you, there’s not any of that. There’s a lingering sense of hesitance - an internal conflict, but not anger. Rin’s never enjoyed opening his heart to anyone. 
Even so, he feels compelled to tell you, so he does.
“My brothers a dick,” Resentment seeps into his words “He came back from overseas and then basically insulted me for a minute straight. We were always meant to play soccer together but he went through something. He changed. We never talked about it,” 
“What? He insulted you for no reason? That’s so weird. Did you always have a bad relationship?” 
Rin sits with himself quietly. 
“I don’t know if we have one now. We were close as kids. At least.” 
“And he just… came back and started being an asshole to you? Seriously?” 
Rin nods. There’s not much else to the story. Rin’s tried hard not to think about the situation itself. He only uses the feelings that stayed behind to make him better. To give him a reason to play - it’s motivation and nothing more. If he starts to view it too much like what it is, betrayal, he’s afraid everything inside of him will collapse. 
“There’s probably more to it than that,” You conclude thoughtfully. Rin thinks the same “But still. You’re his baby brother. Even if he’s going through something…” 
Rin scoffs “You sound like you’re worried about him.” It comes out more petulantly than he expects 
“Not really. Not as much as I’m worried about you,” You counter, giving him a small smile. Rin feels his heart leap into his throat “I just figure, you know, maybe thinking about it like that would help. You were close right? Your mom said he used to dote on you,” 
Rin nods. He feels his chest swell and tighten. 
“Then…I bet it sucked. I bet it was hard. Or at least, it must’ve been lonely to go through that,” You say, frown deepening “Such a sudden change would be hard for anyone to deal with, I think. It’s okay if you feel like it’s unfair. His reasons aside.” 
You sigh, suddenly, covering your hands with your face. 
“What?” Rin asks. You shake your head. 
“You poor thing. I wanna hug you to death you know. A good squeeze. I’m trying to refrain.” You say, stomping your feet just slightly. He feels a flush crawl up his neck, turning his head to look away. 
“...It’s not like I’m stopping you.” 
He doesn’t have the courage to look at you. Not as he says it, or after to steal a glance of what face you're making. Instead, he hears the metal of the chain and feels the warmth of your body. It’s a tight hug. You’re standing and he’s sitting, your arms around his neck, his face directly against your chest. He widens his eyes. He wants to yell at you for being a defenseless idiot, but the feeling of being hugged so tightly washes the words away. You’re soft…and warm. He’s never been hugged by someone who isn’t his mom or brother before, and he can’t remember the last time either thing happened to him. You pat his head. 
Do you touch people like this often? So casually? Or is he special because you like him, he wants to ask. He wants to ask but doesn’t want to know the answer, pushing the feeling down as deep as he can make it go. He wraps his arms around you loosely, above your waist trying to be respectful.  
But he leans into the warmth. Like it’s something that happens once in a lifetime. 
“Hey, Rin.”  You say, soft. He can feel the warmth of your breath against his hair. 
“Hn.” 
“I hope you kick your brother's ass in soccer.” 
You sound teary. Weirdly, it makes Rin feel better. 
“Yeah.”
__ 
School starts up again during September. 
The autumn season welcomes warm colors, fallen leaves and the sort of cool weather that puts the summer uniforms back up on the hangers. Rin is listening to music when he spots you waiting for him at the gate, waving your hand at him. He has half a mind to ignore you, you’re so embarrassing. 
But before he can pretend not to see, you’re jogging over to him. He has to stand so you don’t end up bumping into him. You walk like you were born backwards, two left feet with such little awareness of your surroundings it stresses Rin out. 
He gives you a blank stare as you smile, securing your bag to your shoulder. 
“Look what the cat dragged in,” You say warmly. Rin pauses to look at you. You look different somehow. Lately you always do, Rin wonders if you’ve picked up some weird shape-shifting in your time apart “Are you excited for the new semester, hm? Hmm?” 
He keeps walking and you fall in step with him. You try but he’s too fast, so he slows just a little. He clicks his teeth, shaking his head, eyes taking in the view of the building in front him.
“Why would I be excited?” 
You shrug. 
“Because winter break  is close? Because there’s fun leaves outside? Because it’s your birthday in 6 days?”
He stops dead in his tracks. 
“What the hell? Why do you know that?” 
“Your mom told me.” You say, skipping along happily to school like you didn’t just say something insane. His frown deepens. 
“You have my moms number? You talk to my mom?” 
“She loves me,” You say casually, turning only to look at him and stick your tongue out “And she’s nice. Get over it.” 
With this, you rush into the building faster, giggling as you leave. Rin, frustrated, stomps after you. 
__
Your time together at lunch continues into fall. It’s the third day of the term, September 6th and you’re sitting by his side. The two of you eat in casual silence now, falling into a regular routine. There’s something about the whole ordeal that makes Rin feel a little funny. 
Friendship, as it stands, is still a lukewarm idea to him. But sprawled out next to you in a comfortable quiet isn’t the worst thing. The weather is cool enough to be nice and the daylight lasts for just the right amount of time to see sunset when he treks back home from practicing shooting into the net. 
That kind of sentimental viewing of his surroundings is a bad habit he’s picked up from you. He can’t seem to shake it off. He’s tried at least, but Rin has been stopping to look at everything nowadays. The sun, the trees, the cars passing. Everything passes right by his life, slowly. 
Eventually, eventually this whole thing will cease. You’ll never see Rin again and he’ll never see you - and you’ll part your separate ways. Thinking about that feels so stifling. But he figures since that’s the case, there’s probably not any harm in letting the time pass like this. As long as he’s still improving. 
Your voice doesn’t catch him off-guard anymore, no matter how loud it is after a long bout of silence. You stuff something into your mouth, a tomato he thinks. 
“Rin-kun,” You start, tilting your head to one-side “Are you doing anything for your birthday?” 
“No.” He answers immediately because he never does. He hasn’t done much since Sae left home and now that he’s a third year and about to be 18, there’s even less of a desire to pull together a party and celebrate. 
“What? Boo. That’s so lame.” 
“Don’t be so childish.” 
“I’m older than you, you dummy,” You say with such automation that Rin doesn’t even get the chance to process “You’re not even gonna have cake? Nothing?” 
“My mom might but I don’t have any plans.” 
“Your mom is so nice.” 
“Stop.” 
You frown at him but don’t say any more.  You look like you have something on your mind. Probably something stupid, but Rin can’t help but wonder what’s making your brow crease so intensely. 
“What?” He snips. You flick your eyes to him and shake your head. 
“I just think it’s a waste,” You say simply, that tone of fondness seeping into it that Rin can’t get used to. “It’s such a big number, you know? A little cake and some show tunes or something would suffice.” 
Rin scoffs. 
“I don’t care about it. It’s pointless to me. Lukewarm” He says, before noticing your genuine sadness. He sighs a little to himself “Stop looking like a depressed mutt.” 
“I’m not a dog.” 
“I guess dogs are more well-trained.’ 
“Hey. Hey, what the hell do you mean by that?” 
He ignores you. 
“Anyway, stop worrying about it.”
You pout. 
“Easier said than done.”. 
__ 
Rin’s morning routine has been the exact same for two years. 
He starts by opening the window, to let fresh air and sunlight come in through the glass. He feels like his room gets stale overnight and it wakes him up to taste the sun in the back of his mouth. He takes a deep breath of it, clearing out his lungs and blinking his eyes open. 
After that he stretches. He unfurls a Bluelock brand yoga mat onto his carpeted floor and gets to his usual cycle. It’s integral for an athlete to keep their muscles stretched, functioning like a well-oiled machine. He has it down pat. He starts from the bottom up, stretching his legs and working up to his arms and shoulders. His legs always come first since he’s a striker, always focusing on the mobility of his calves and foot before he stretches out his thigh.
His core, then his chest and arms. When he’s done with all that - he practices yoga for fifteen minutes. Again with mobility but this time full body, like making sure each of his limbs work with each other without any stops. He’ll sit back down after those minutes are up to meditate for another fifteen - clear his mind of absolutely anything stuck in it. It’s the most peace he gets on any given day. 
At the end, he sits with his feelings. Carefully, he undoes the wrapped clothed box around his heart and stares at it as it sits in his lap. Beating and raw and melancholy blue  - so full of sadness and anger like it could burst at any minute. Revisiting his sadness and rage is a necessity. Sometimes it feels like only sadness. Only monochrome. 
(He wonders if a day will come where that part of his routine is changed. If ever, he’ll unwrap his own heart only to see it pink or golden yellow or even a softer shade of red. He wonders if the colors ever change, or if time will fade them.) 
All of this happens before he even brushes his teeth. The rest of his morning routine is keeping his room neat. He folds the comforter on his bed, puts any dirty clothes away, and gets dressed. He doesn’t really style his hair - it’s so pin straight after washing he normally just has to brush it to keep it nice. 
After that he has breakfast, and checks through his bag. On days he has school he goes to school and comes back to practice. If he’s home alone - he picks one of many other things to do. He tends to practice closer to evening, taking a shower before he goes to sleep. 
On the morning of Rin’s 18th birthday, he’s only really acutely aware of the date. His morning starts the exact same as it has everyday for nearly two years. Nothing to make him feel particularly different. When he looks in the mirror, he still sees his brother's face and when he looks at his heart it’s still a steely, melancholy blue. 
When he comes down stairs, though - there’s a pair of shoes he doesn’t recognize. And there’s a humming traveling down the hall and always the way up towards him that he knows quite well. 
He thinks, for a minute, he might still be dreaming. Why you would be in his house on a Saturday morning makes absolutely no sense otherwise. 
He slips his feet into his gray slippers and treks into the living room, only to find you in view of the open kitchen. There’s a balloon attached to flowers and a spread of fruits on the table. Orange juice in a cold glass. You with his moms borrowed apron, humming contentedly as you bend over the stove. 
Rin doesn’t know what the feeling is. He doesn’t know if he’s irritated or not. Just that it’s so overwhelming to see you in his kitchen, marching to the beat of your own drum like you always do. 
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” 
You startle when you hear his voice, whipping around to face him. Dramatically putting a hand on your chest - you shoot him an unfriendly glare. 
“Well hello to you too.” 
“Answer my question.” He demands. You click your teeth. 
“Well, obviously I’m making breakfast. We’re celebrating your birthday.” 
“Without telling me.” 
You snap your fingers before giving him finger guns “Precisely. Genius deduction, Itoshi-sama.” 
“What the fuck. Where are my parents.” 
“They’re out on a day-trip! It’s a Saturday. They’ll be back here on Sunday afternoon. Read the note.” 
“What were you gonna do if I had last minute plans?” 
“You don’t though?” You say like knowing that is so obvious. He knows you asked but still “I guess I’d turn around and make my own breakfast. Give you your gift at school or something.” 
“Why are you here?” He asks a little softer this time. With a little more emotion, just a touch. He never expects anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. 
Rin doesn’t really ask for much. Certainly wouldn’t ask for this on his own accord. That’s a vain thing to do, right? 
It occurs to Rin that this is the kind of birthday you do for someone you like. Someone you love. You’re always confessing your feelings to him. You only say it when you’re sure. It wasn’t like Rin didn’t know you had feelings for him, because the point of it all had been for you to try and get rid of them. Or honor them, or deal with them in whatever way you saw fit. Rin had agreed on a whim to help you with that. Your friendship had started with the very notion that you liked Itoshi Rin and he didn’t like you back. It’s not some secret. 
When the light pours in through the windows and hits your back and for the first time - Rin understands what the fuss is about being in love is. He’s sure that this strange, grotesque warmth is the aftermath of being liked. He always thought it’d feel more simple. That he’d remain unmoved in the face of it because he was different.
It’s not like he’s unloved. He’s sure his parents love him. His brother did too. Still does, Rin thinks. 
But it’s the first time someone has made their feelings so clear to him. Someone who isn’t supposed to love or like him. And even Rin, chronically apathetic, can’t bring himself to ignore the weight of knowing that. He stares at you, dumbstruck. 
You’re still turned to him. There’s a cool tumbler of iced-coffee sitting on the counter that you sip, head tilted to one side. 
“Well, I don’t know,” You start, a hand on your hip “It just felt like too much of a waste to do nothing on your birthday. But you’re not the kind of guy who likes big celebrations. So I thought maybe just hanging out would be more your speed.”
Rin swallows. “Seriously?” 
“Seriously.”
“Bold thing to assume.” 
You frown back. 
“Well, I was gonna invite Isagi-kun—“
“Isagi? How do you know Isagi?”
“He saw me leaving your house ‘cause he was gonna visit.  After we talked he followed me on Instagram. Anyway, I was gonna invite him and Bachira and all four of us could go to a movie,” You explain as you sigh and go back to the stove “But he said you’d probably just want to hang out with me.” 
“…And he didn’t say anything else?”
“Well he asked if we were dating so I just told him the truth. Really nice guy, by the way.” 
Rin’s going to hound Isagi next time they practice together. 
“So. Now you’re here… doing what exactly?”
“Making you breakfast. I’ll make you ochazuke for lunch later. Haven’t decided on dinner, I thought I’d ask when you woke up. Your mom said you liked traditional breakfast but I didn’t think I’d be done by the time you woke up so there’s fruit.” 
Sure enough, when Rin walks over to the other side of the table - there’s a half done spread of breakfast on the table. All the dining ware is set up neatly, the table arranged so well he feels guilty for not helping. 
“You didn’t have to do all this for me.” Rin tsks, a frown on his expression as he stands next to you. He watches you pour egg into a square pan, slowly evening out the layers. 
“I wanted to,” You reply, not thinking twice about it. “I enjoy cooking for people. It’s fun. I normally just do it to feed myself, so it’s nice to share.” 
He closes his eyes. 
“Thanks.” 
He’s afraid to look over at you, the excitement radiating off of you. It makes him uncomfortable that something so simple could make you so happy. 
“Can you repeat that?” 
“Don’t start.” 
“Rin-chan,” You coo, immediately making him so embarrassed he wants to hit you “You’re so docile today.” 
“I’m gonna kill you.” He says, hitting your shoulder as light as he can. 
“Woah…how romantic. Dying on the day you were born? Jeez. I’m swooning.” 
He looks at you blankly. 
“Stop being gross. Where did you even get that from?” 
“Too many things to count,” You say with a snap. He shakes his head. 
“Is there anything I can help with?” 
“How diligent. It’s fine! It’s your birthday, right? Sit. Eat some fruit. Pick out what you wanna do. I rented some games and there’s some movies I had in mind too. Make your agenda. “
Rin laughs to himself, lightly. 
“Isn’t that supposed to be your job?” 
“Don’t be stingy! I’m already making breakfast.”
Rin rolls his eyes.
“Yeah. Whatever.” 
__
You end up back in Rin’s room. 
After a healthy discussion about what he would like to do - Rin landed on wanting to do both. He picked out a copy of Resident Evil  to play until after lunch and then decided to binge a bunch of movies after. 
You even agree to accompany him while he practices. There’s 24 hours in a day and the plans are nothing more than vague suggestions - but deep down, it makes Rin kind of…well whatever. It’s not a bad plan. 
Currently, you’re sitting at the foot of Rin’s bed with your hands tight around the controller of his PS4. Rin feels a little bad for you. While you do okay with horror movies, the immersion of horror games seems to frighten you enough that your eyes are glued onto the screen. As such, Rin is trying his best not to startle you as you lean forward every so slightly. The leg of your pants is pushed up just barely. You’re dressed cozy, so it’s funny seeing your head shrink into your hoodie. 
“Why the fuck would you set it hardcore if this BOTH of our first times playing,” You whine, turning yourself into the next room carefully on screen “I’m scared.” 
“You’re such a wuss,” He scoffs, leaning back from where he’s sitting next to you on his bed. “We’re never gonna make any progress like this.” 
You stomp your feet and Rin resists the urge to laugh. 
“Shut up, it’s scary.” 
He nudges your shoulder with his knee. 
“Stop complaining. You got to pick the character and I got to pick the difficulty.” 
“I deserve to lust after Leon after the shit I’m getting put through,”
Rin scoffs at your declaration. The irritation is softened when you walk into the backroom faced with a zombie - a short scream leaving your lips as you mash buttons and use your gun to kill it quickly. You manage to dodge as much damage as you can, obviously trying not to waste limited resources. Even so it takes damn near 7 bullets. Despite your cowardice, you’re pretty good at the game. 
You loot the room for any possible supplies then leave. You turn the corner of the isle, a zombie filled gas station awaiting you. You manage to save bullets and stun the one closest to you before getting your shit completely rocked - quick to duck out. The first cut scene of the game comes next where you meet the other main character Claire. You gasp like you’ve been running, shoving the controller towards Rin. 
“Your turn. Move, I wanna sit on your bed.” 
“Why?” 
“Cause it’s a weekend and I have a right to be lazy. Shoo. On the floor.” 
“You’re getting way too comfortable in my house on my birthday.” 
Rin, does, go sit on the floor where you were. Mostly because it’s a better position to play the game in. At least it has minimal back support. The cut scene plays in the background, nothing difficult as the main characters go to the next area - the police station and the technical start of the game. Rin hasn’t played the remake, but he did longingly watch some playthroughs while he was in Bluelock during its release. 
He had never mentioned it to you, so he was shocked you knew enough about it to bring it over. He likes survival horror and he was always wanting to play it. 
“Me and your mom are best friends so I practically live here anyways. Also shut-up and look.” 
He does shut up, too invested in the story to be annoyed.  The main characters get separated and Leon ends up in the streets. 
For whatever reason, he’s conscious about proximity. Your knee next to his shoulder. You’re close enough to touch him casually and he’s wondering…hoping to know if you’re naive enough to do it without thinking. It feels like a stroke of luck, or maybe a form of mind-reading when you reach for his hair with your fingers. He wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He thinks he should tell you to stop. 
But when you ask “Is this okay?” 
He can’t find the strength in himself to do it. He focuses on the scene in front of him, weaving through the cars to shake off a horde of zombies. Rin grabs the controls, immediately turning around to try and stun a group of zombies before turning into the gate so he can head to the station.
His heart is racing and his eyes almost feel cross from how much he’s focusing but it’s not exactly the game. The game isn’t even that scary, as much as it’s gory he thinks. 
“I don’t care but,” He says through a breath, trying to sound like he means it and that he’s not so conscious of the way your pinky lingers on his nape “when’d you get so touchy?” 
“I like touching you.” You reply, twirling a strand of hair around your fingers “Your hair is so silky and nice. I felt when I gave you a hug that one time and I kept thinking about it.” 
Rin wants to say “Do you think about me that much?” but the words don’t come out how he wants. 
“Do you touch everyone like this?” 
You’re silent for a minute. It takes patience, effort - not to turn his head to see the look on your face. Though he probably knows it. He thinks he just wants affirmation from you. 
“...No. Not really. I just like you.” 
There’s a beat of silence - a pause designated for his rejection, the promise he made to you so many months ago. He knows what the script is. And he’s said it many times before. Not in a million years, right? 
But he can’t bring himself to say it this time, so he doesn’t.
“Yeah. I know.” 
___
Before Rin knows it, the day is coming to a close. 
The entirety of it you spend together, with you faithfully stuck to him and without Rin feeling entirely suffocated. He isn’t sure why it’s so easy with you. Normally this much socialization would render him exhausted. Irritable at best and angry at worst. But he’s not. In fact even after his entire workout routine, he felt fine listening to you ramble. He didn’t need complete silence, but even when there were lulls and dips - it didn’t feel uncomfortable. 
You didn’t get far in Resident Evil 2. Rin decides to cut it short since it’d definitely take a lot longer than all the time you had and there were movies he wanted to watch. When you whine about not being able to finish - he quietly told  you to just come over next time and play it with him then. 
He waited a year, so he can wait a little longer. Your face lit up idiotically, giddy with delight at the promise of next time. As promised, ochazuke was for lunch and after 30 minutes of digestion - he put it out of his mind as he did his daily drills. You joined him, insisting that you’d be fine doing nothing. Sat on the field with a book the entire time even though it was cold, tossing him his things whenever he took a break - smiling each time he talked to you. 
(“You know you don’t actually need to stay with me the entire day.” He reminds you of this as he brings a bottle of water to lips, sweat dripping down the side of his head even in the cool weather. You turn your head up at him. 
“When else am I gonna get to stick by your side all day? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” 
“You’re so good at being annoying it’s impressive,” He says, dropping his water bottle back down “Aren’t you bored?” 
“Huh? No way. I have my fun book to keep me company and on top of that I get to see you play in the flesh.” 
Oh, yeah. You mentioned watching him when he was in Bluelock. “Well, it’s not like a match. But I’m not gonna keep asking, so whatever.” 
“Yes, yes - I understand. Now go, shoo.”)
Even though Rin practiced for his usually long amount of hours, you sat with him diligently - even stopping to cheer him on when you needed a break from reading or studying or whatever else you were doing. 
Upon returning, he went to shower and you went to warm up in  the kitchen. After he was redressed and clean, he joined you downstairs to order take-out and have dinner. 
Finally, it’s after dinner and you’ve banished Rin to his room while you set something up downstairs. He’s mostly scrolling twitter, watching soccer highlights from the accounts he follows. He’s just about comfortable when you finally call him back down, which irritates him enough to click his teeth but not enough to bring it up to you. 
After a long day, when Rin finally comes back down stairs, walking down into the hall and back into the living room - he can’t help but be surprised at the change in scenery. All the lights have been turned low, and everything looks different. You’ve taken to decorating a wall of his living room after some rearranging. A white sheet hanging up with something, and a plethora of fairy lights in stripes going down it in a nice pattern. 
There’s a banner and it looks hand-made. It spells out happy birthday, rin in neat, thick blue letters on cut-out white shapes, attached along the back wall. On the table in front, there’s some decoration along with nice paper plates and plastic cutlery and a cake in the middle that’s nicer than he’s expecting. 
You beam at him as he walks in. And you’re stupid enough to be wearing a birthday hat, giving him jazz hands as he enters. 
“Happy birthday!” 
On paper, Rin thinks it’s been something of a boring birthday. He did what he normally would do on a day off but you cooked for him twice. He spent most of it with you, even though it was a lot of nothing. A lot of being together like you were roommates or something. Maybe that's why he’s so reluctant to admit that this is making him feel something. 
That the silly theatrics feel meaningful. It is thoughtful, isn’t it? Rin doesn’t think anyone in his entire life has done anything this thoughtful for him. Birthdays are birthdays, and they’ve never really been especially meaningful. He didn’t see the point in just celebrating the day of someone's birth. Certainly, he doesn’t think he’d have it in himself to do something like this for another person. 
Rin stares at you. Wearing a stupid birthday hat and the most gleeful, idiotic smile he’s ever seen. All of this for a guy who’s rejected you, but you seem to cherish so much anyways. Apathetic and ungraceful as he is and always will be - he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do. What a strange, unrecognizable feeling welling up inside of him. And not even one feeling, but so many so tangled with each other - he can’t see anything straight. His eyes aren’t drawn to the candlelight, or the moon, or the cake. 
It’s like a sense of tunnel vision. Where all Rin can really look at is you. It’s happened before. How can anyone be like this, he wonders. Are there people born into the world so unselfishly? And if they are, why would he ever cross paths with them? How could someone so easy to love have any business loving him, in the first place? 
Rin won’t ever understand you. He accepts that. He’ll never be able to understand this kind of person. Someone who shines even brighter than the sun. 
But he’s not so stupid to not understand himself. He’s unable to say the words he’d promised to you all the way in April. Rin doesn’t like to lie. 
He would be lying, that is, if you told him just one more time that you liked him.  He’d be lying if it told you it’ll never happen. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like you. And it’s not just because you like him, because that never mattered to him in the first place. 
Some people are made to be adored. Born special and bright like everything should revolve around them. Perhaps that kind of thing is only afforded to people without ego. With heart and character and charisma. 
It doesn’t matter. What a stupid thing to realize on his birthday of all days.
“Rin-kun?” 
He blinks. 
“Where’d you hide all of this?” 
You laugh at him, bubbly and delighted.
“I brought it in a tote and kept it in the kitchen. Mostly stuff from my house, and your mom helped with the cake and stuff. It’s nice right? I did a good job, no?” 
Ah. He’s fucked. 
“It looks okay.” 
You frown, huffing and puffing “Just okay? C’mon, don’t be stingy.” 
“Doesn’t begging for compliments defeat the purpose of them.” 
“Not to me,” 
Your frown deepens and Rin is starting to feel the rose colored glasses set in. 
“It’s nice. It’s good.” 
“So you like it? You’re happy? Delighted, even? Absolutely overjoyed by-” 
“Cut it out or I’m going to send you home.” 
“No,” You whine, tugging on his sleeves like you’re worried he really will “I want cake.” 
“Then let’s cut the cake?”
“We can’t,” You put your arms up in a cross and Rin gives you a look of confusion. “I promised I’d get a good picture of you.” 
“What? Promised who?” 
“Your parents, mostly. But also, you should post on your Instagram a little more, no? You’re basically a famous player already, you should have the courtesy to feed your fans.” 
Before he can do anything to protest, you usher Rin to sit on the other side of the table before you back with his phone. He stares at you but you only look at him expectantly. Still, he unlocks it and hands it to you. He gives you an irritated sigh (though he isn’t really irritated). 
“This is stupid.” 
“It’s a good thing to capture memories, you dummy. Now smile,” You say, holding up the camera after some angling “Or don’t. The people do love a good scowl.” 
That makes him want to smile. He’s awkward in the photos but he does stay still for them, trying his best not to look ridiculous. You take a few, then pause to come up to the table and light the candles in front of him. He hears the camera shutter one more time before you look up at him over the edge. 
“Ready to blow out your candles?” 
“I guess.” 
Before Rin can do anything about it, he listens to you sing happy birthday - poorly with too much enthusiasm. You’re tone deaf and passionate all at the same time - singing each word with a dramatic flair until you’re on the final word. You can’t clap because you’re recording but you do cheer as he burns the candles out. Once it’s over you stop recording, looking down and swiping through the pictures. 
“They turned out good. You should post them.” 
“...You’re done taking them?” 
You tilt your head to one side. 
“Yeah?” 
“We didn’t get any together.” 
Your eyes widen like he said something shocking. 
“...You wanna take them together?” 
He scoffs. 
“We spent the whole day together.” 
You flush, suddenly embarrassed and god. 
“I just wasn’t expecting you to want that. I mean we’re friends but-” 
“Shut up. And come here.” 
So you do, phone still in hand as you mess with your appearance.
“Do you want to take it or do you want me to?” 
“Oh, uh lemme just-” You go through a bunch of filters and find one before handing it to him, a nervous expression “You take it cause your arm is longer and you’re taller.” 
Rin just nods. Takes the phone from you,  and lets you pose a little before he takes the photo. He hands it back to you so you can see, and watches your eyes light up as you stare at it. Stupid. 
“It came out nice.” You say. You save it onto his phone before handing it back to him. “Send it to me later?” 
“Yeah.” 
You give him another grin and Rin takes his phone from you, going through the pictures as he opens up Instagram. He guess it wouldn’t hurt to post. You leave his side, saying something about cutting the cake. But he isn’t looking, really. 
He drafts a post as he waits for you. He likes the picture you took together best and decides to put it second. He never has any idea on how to caption these which is why he doesn’t want to post it in the first place. He glances at you, then sighs internally. 
itoshirin._ posted for the first time in a while.  posted 7 mins ago. liked by isagi_yoichi, bachiraaaaa, and others.  itoshirin._ ; 09.09.2002. thanks for everything, stupid.  isagi_yoichi commented: no way you’re getting a girlfriend before me. life is so unfair and cruel.  isagi_yoichi commented: oh happy birthday btw bachiraaaaa commented: RIN-CHAN !!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ٩(◕‿◕。)۶ official_itoshisae: happy birthday.  itoshirinsnumberonefan: WHO IS THAT??  yo_hiori: happy birthday! 
“Rin, I cut the cake!” 
He puts his phone on DND before taking a plate of cake from your hand. 
__
The clock strikes two, and you’re still at Rin’s place. 
After a long binge of horror movies, you’re both comfortably in each other's space - only inches away, talking about nothing. The movie ended a little over half an hour ago.
He’s still doing just that, listening to you chatter away next to his ear. The room is completely dark minus the soft glow of the T.V. which gives just enough light for Rin to gaze at your face. Your eyes are wide and sparkly, still, even though it seems like the tiredness is getting to you too. 
Neither of you wants to stop talking. You’ve started discussing manga - particularly Rin's favorite manga. 
“Ciguatera was interesting,” You say, hugging one of his pillows close to your chest.  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.” 
“I’m shocked you read it. Seriously. I thought you would’ve  forgotten the minute after I told you.” 
“Well, yeah. You recommended it, so obviously I wanted to at least try,” You say with a breathless laugh, turning over to face him. You’re facing each other, he realizes a second too late “You’re such a boy, by the way. Weekly young magazine? Really.” 
“Shut up.” He says, with no real bite to his words “What were you expecting?” 
“Dunno. Didn’t think you were interested in romance of all things. Especially cause Ogino’s kind of a loser.” 
“There was other stuff in it.” He points out. You chuckle. 
“Yeah. Way raunchier and darker than I thought. But it was mostly about romance. So, I was surprised to say the last.” 
“What,” Rin starts, partially offended by the implication “Do you think I'm a soulless machine or something?” 
“Well no,” You frown, shaking your head as you stare at him “But you’ve rejected every confession you’ve ever gotten, even from some of the prettiest girls in our entire grade. So I didn’t think you had any interest in that kinda thing.”
He scoffs.”You’re stupid.” 
“You tell me all the time,” You point your fingers and place them under your chin. “Why did you reject them, by the way? Just trying to focus on soccer?” 
He feels flush, explaining. Turning his gaze to the ceiling, he sighs. 
“None of those people actually had feelings for me. It wasn’t meaningful in any way.” 
“And you want it to be meaningful?” 
“There’s no point being in a relationship with someone I don’t like and barely know. And who doesn’t really care to get to know me. I’m busy enough with soccer, and I don’t have time to entertain lukewarm relationships like that.” 
“What an unexpectedly sentimental reason. How soft of you Rin-kun.” 
“Shut up.” 
There’s a pause of thoughtful silence where you hum and lay flat on your back, reaching your hand up towards the ceilings. Rin can’t do much more than look. 
“You know. How I said I’ve been watching you since you were in Bluelock?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Y’know. I always thought you looked really sad back then. I might’ve been reading too much into it but,” You smile, corners of your lips upturned while you giggle “It’s like…weirdly relieving to see you like this.” 
“Like what?” 
“You’re like…just a boy,” You say wispy and delighted “A normal boy who reads shitty raunchy magazines and thinks about love. It’s comforting somehow. Makes me feel special. I really like you. A little more every day, it feels like.” 
Another beat of silence. He thinks you can sense the hesitance of his rejection. There’s such a tangible shift in the atmosphere. If Rin stretches his hand out to touch it, he thinks he’d push through an impossible barrier and keep falling in it forever. He thinks it would swallow him. 
He isn’t sure what it is. If it’s an act of bravery, or a sudden uptick in adrenaline, or if the exhaustion of a long day is finally starting to hit. Maybe it’s just these feelings that keep overwhelming him that make his body move. Something outside of his mind, nestled in his ribs, that has him inching closer to you. 
He flips until he’s hovering over you. Your eyes widen and you stare at him. He stares back, like he almost can’t believe himself. 
“Rin-kun?” 
And he freezes. The confidence dissipates as soon as he finds it but now he’s above you, on top of you. You’re messy and flush from the day. Your mascara is smudged and your lipgloss is gone - leaving a faint sheen on your mouth that matches your skin. Your hoodie is rumpled around the shoulders - one of the sleeves pulled to your elbows. Rin really gets a look at you. Cognizant of the fact he spent all day with you. That’s why you look worn and sleepy and so unbelievably cute. So cute it annoys him. Irritates him half to death. 
You open your mouth again, only to close it. It almost feels like he can hear your heart. Or maybe it’s his. It’s hard to know the difference. 
“Is this a n-new kind of bullying?” You joke, trying to ease the tension. He frowns at you. 
“Does it seem like I’m joking?” 
Your eyes widen and you turn away. Rin wants to make you look. 
“Well no but…” And you squirm a little “what are you doing?”
He doesn’t know, either. 
“I don’t know.” He admits, and you laugh a little breathless and the tension is so thick Rin can’t swallow around it “I want to kiss you.” He blurts out. Awkward and uncharismatic and clumsy. 
A bout of silence.
“...Am I going insane? Did you just say you want to kiss me?”
“I did.” 
More silence. 
“Why? Wouldn’t that make me your first kiss?” 
“It would.” 
“And isn’t that like… reserved for your special someone?” 
“It is.” 
“Rin-kun,” You breathe out, blinking in disbelief  “Do you even know what you’re saying?” 
“I do.”
You’re a little more serious this time. You put your hand on his shoulder. He feels like the Earth is gonna fall from under his feet. 
“Stop messing with me.” 
“I’m not.” 
You frown. 
“Do you really want to kiss me?” 
“Yeah,” He can’t think “I do.” 
You reach up for him. You’re more experienced with this kind of thing and it shows as you cup the nape of his neck. He doesn’t finch. He doesn’t look away from you either, as your thumb brushes under his eyes - the both of you so wrapped up in each other nothing matters. Rin would stay in this forever, if someone gave him the option.
“W-we have to talk about this afterwards, okay?”
“Okay.” 
“I’m serious, Itoshi Rin. Because you can’t just—” 
Your palm cups his cheek and he rubs against it instinctively. He sees your eyes widen and you swallow - a frown still etched into your features. 
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
Your voice goes as soft as a whisper. 
“You’re so unfair.” 
He almost laughs. 
“Please kiss me.” He asks, so silently it almost goes unheard but he knows you hear it because your lips press into a thin line before you’re pulling Rin down towards you. Your lips are soft. And warm. And they taste faintly like whip-cream and the slight sour of strawberries and your hands are so gentle. Somehow he feels at ease even though he feels like he’s going to implode on himself from nerves. 
Just a little deeper before you pull away and stare at him. Rin looks back, eyes jumping from your lips up to your eyes and back down to your lips. You open your mouth to say something. Mumbling his given name only for him to cut you off with another kiss, a little deeper this time. The way it shuts you up is so cute it almost makes him angry. How it muffles your words, tapers off into a noise of surprise and ends up just back at a kiss. 
He’s never felt like this kind of thing was a viable option. Itoshi Rin is an antisocial, angry, and apathetic soccer protege and he has no time in the world for anything lukewarm. He’s rejected every confession he’s ever received in his life and always thought of relationships as something far off and disconnected to him in his entirety.
Perpetually unloveable but maybe not in such an angsty, vulnerable way. Like a law of the universe. A truth, like thinking of him, means to postulate that he is that way. A prerequisite to understanding him. 
Rin doesn’t like things that are half-ass. Perhaps, part of the reason he likes you so much is because you’ve proved him wrong in such an utterly defeating way. The fact your very existence is by and large, the antithesis of this truth. 
Itoshi Rin is not only loveable, but he is capable of loving. There is evidence of it, right underneath him now - with soft lashes and wet eyes and the brightest smile that could ever exist. 
And it’s haunting for more reasons than one. But he likes how unyielding the revelation is. You’re worried he’ll want to avoid it, and he does. But he doesn’t think he could forever, even if he tried. 
He’s confident if he made the attempt, you’d come barreling towards him once more. With all the confidence in the world. It makes him want to at least try to face it.
Which is why he’s kissing you a second, third, and fourth time. Which is why he’s looking at you in between, wide blue eyes transfixed on every part of your face. He’s trying to face what daunts him most, not like but love and the difference is more important as the days pass. 
You pull away, finally - put a hand on his chest and stare. 
“Rin-kun,” You whisper, uncertain of yourself which he hates. “I like you. I really like you.” And again, a little softer “And I want you to like me too,” Like that had been the biggest secret of all. Something you’d never told anyone, even once. 
Rin can’t imagine it. Have you been holding in something like this all this time? He only realized a couple hours ago and it already feels like he’s going to rip apart at the seams. 
“I do. I do like you.”
“Really? Forreal? Seriously? You’re not pulling my leg? Yanking my chain?” 
He knocks his forehead against yours. 
“Be quiet. How can you be this stupid in the middle of getting confessed to?” 
You pout. Pout at him, all whiny. God. 
“It doesn’t feel real to me.” 
He laughs humorlessly. “It’s all a dream. You’ll forget it all in the morning.” 
“Stop being mean to me.” 
He has to be. If he’s not you’re going to see right through him. 
“No,” He says instead “Stop being so ridiculous first.” 
“An impossible ask to the world's most ridiculous girl.” 
He smiles a little. 
“That’s a good name for you. I’ll change your contact.” 
“Nooo,” You say again, this time pulling him down for a hug. His eyes widened. And he’s unfair? “Be nice to your girlfriend.” 
He doesn’t have anything to say to that. It flusters him too, admittedly. Before he can think of a counter, you yawn big and wide. Rin is still on top of you and neither of you have brushed your teeth. He was planning on putting you up in the guest room, but currently you’re clinging to him half-away. And he has no such plans of telling you to move. 
“I’m so tired.” 
Rin feels like he’s going to pass out, He mumbles. 
“You can sleep.” 
“Want you to sleep too.” 
Rin closes his eyes. He couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. You’ll have to talk about it in the morning. 
“Okay.” 
__ 
“Rin? Where’s your frie—oh!” 
Rin stirs the minute his mom enters the room. It only takes him a minute to regain consciousness and by the time he’s awake - he’s already regretting not locking his door. 
He continues to pretend to be asleep. He thinks you still are because you’re comfortably slotted in his arms. Rin is so embarrassed he wants to die. He hears his mom gasp, and then quietly shouts for his father to come to his room. 
“What are you—oh.” 
Rin is going to have the worst morning of his life whenever they leave. He remains still. He hears the shutter of a camera and grits his teeth all the way in the back of his jaw. 
“Oh this will make a great wedding photo.” 
His dad laughs a little to himself, ushering his mother out of the room “Don’t get carried away,” 
When the door finally clicks, Rin opens his eyes and lets out a breath of relief. Much to his shock, he also feels you stir. His eyes widen when you turn to him, your face painted in utter mortification before you bury it in your hands. He stares at you as you groan, kicking your feet. 
“Oh god I’m going to cry. How am I going to face her? Oh my god” 
Rin scoffs a little at your dramatics. It calms him down in a strange way “She’s not gonna say anything to you. She’s probably only going to bully me about it.” 
“I’ve forsaken you, mother-in-law” 
Rin nudges your ribs, blush crawling up his face. 
“Shut up.” 
__ 
Up until three weeks ago, Rin didn’t take issue with the way you interacted at school. 
You two have a pretty strict policy about it. Though you’re in the same class and you chat occasionally in the halls - you tend to avoid Rin where you can. Originally, this made sense. For the sake of his comfort and yours, the best choice was sneaking to the roof together to eat where you could remain mostly undisturbed. 
As such, Rin has never been particularly consciousness of your presence in the classroom. For starters, you’re always somewhere. A busybody of the highest pedigree and always running errands - even if Rin were to try to talk to you he can only really find you 20 percent of the time. Secondly, unlike Rin, you have a handful of friends surrounding you. Rin has interacted with them very briefly but you (seemingly for his sake) try not to force him out of his comfort zone too much by making you all sit together. The most Rin has gotten from them is a single knowing smirk or glance. 
And lastly, before three weeks ago, it would’ve been a big problem if people started getting onto either of you about a relationship that didn’t exist. That would've been all around awkward and uncomfortable and maybe would’ve deterred your future endeavors with other guys. 
That was when you and Itoshi Rin were in fact not dating. 
Three weeks into your relationship and nothing much has changed, though nowadays you come over to his house on weekends where you can. You’ve even been on one date after his dad (of all people) hounded him about never taking you on a proper one. 
You text the same as you did before, and you call Rin a little more often. Usually for the purposes of rambling so much you tucker yourself out and fall asleep. 
But at school, Rin only really sees you for the spare minutes of lunch and not much more than that. He’s never really thought about it before. It was never enough of an issue to warrant his intervention. 
It’s not like he cares, okay? 
But he’s more aware of it, now - frustratingly enough. You really don’t see each other often enough in school and you have many more guy friends than he had ever considered before. Every time he catches you and Murata-senpai trekking down the hall he feels his blood pressure rise. 
You and Rin have both decided, though. Despite his posting of you, neither of you have confirmed the relationship. Rin is immune to the prying and you’re good at dodging it altogether. This is the agreement. 
It is therefore very irrational of him to be thinking of speaking up at this current moment in time. 
Despite your mutual decision to keep things as private as possible, Rin has heard nothing but gossip about the situation for weeks. Outside of the usual, direct kind of prying - there’s whispers and stares and all sorts of other things. Rin doesn’t care about it. He’s used to it, it’s part of the gig and the neo-egoist league made him near immune. 
It’s all the things directed at you that make him seethe. Misplaced jealousy and the disappointed remarks of guys in class that make him feel like his blood pressure is rising. The latter is what’s making him most irritated now. How fucking long are these idiots going to talk about this? 
“Dude, you had like three years to confess,” Some idiot, who’s name Rin doesn’t know is still yapping “If she’s actually dating Mr.Popular then it’s on you for fucking yourself over.” 
The other idiot in question groans, and Rin forces his face to remain impassive as he listens. He tries to stop listening. More than once, actually. But they just keep going. 
“I didn’t think he’d actually do it dude. Like there’s no way, right? He rejected every single girl who ever confessed to him. I thought she was safe. And now my highschool love is forever ruined.” 
Like he ever stood a chance. How ridiculous. 
Another one of the goons speaks up “Dunno. Neither of them have said anything right? You miss all of the shots you don’t take.” 
“Are you saying I should just confess to her anyway? She got posted on his Instagram dude.” 
A smirk appears on Extra Three’s face “No confirmation means fair game. Stop being pussy and do it.” 
“You think I stand a chance against that dude?” 
Rin can feel all three pairs' eyes hit him at once. 
“Nah. Not a chance. But you could always wait till she’s all heartbroken and comfort her, right? Hook, line, and sinker.” 
“I hear when girls are heartbroken they’re like way more likely to let you—” 
With that, Rin stands to his feet. He’s seething. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. He should definitely just leave to go cool his head but he’s so fucking angry it’s hard to sit still and he has no other way of dealing with his feelings. So he walks towards the table slowly, eyes darkened and just barely holding it in
He knows this is a bad idea. He can feel the whole classroom look at him as he slams his hand down on the desk. But he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with it later. 
“You’d be fucking lucky if my girlfriend ever looked your way.” 
As soon as Rin says it, there's a thud at the door-way of the classroom. When he looks up you’re there with your eyes widened. Rin just looks back, impassive and immune to the sudden uproar of whispers. 
He only clicks his teeth when you grab him by the sleeve of his uniform - cracking a small smile as he hears the faint words “Just give up dude.” as he leaves. 
__ 
Up on the roof top, you’re shaking Rin by the shoulders - visibly distressed. 
“Hey! What the hell was that?” 
“What.” He offers, not willing to budge on the situation. In the first place he’s a little irritated by all of it. And he’s a little irritated by how much you’ve been enforcing the no-talking rule. Right now, it really feels like he can’t take it anymore. 
You frown deeply, distress only growing as the time passes in uncomfortable silence. Rin doesn’t want to be civil about it. About it and about you and about those idiots. 
“We had an agreement!” You say, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, though it’s weak. He stares down at you. 
“So what?” 
“Rin, we talked about this. Don’t be like this.” 
“Like what.” 
“Pissy and weird. You’re being weird and I don’t like it. It’s making me sad.” 
“How am I being—” 
Before Rin can proceed with his sentence, he catches a glimpse of your face in the midst of his tantrum. Sad like a puppy who got its tail stepped on and about ready to cry, he immediately seals his mouth in fear of making it worse. 
“Why are you doing that?” He spits. 
“Doing what?”
“Being all sad and pathetic. Does it really bother you that much if people know we’re dating?” 
“It’s not like that.” You assure. 
“Then what is it?” Rin prods, frustrated but not wanting to make things worse “Why is it such a big deal?” 
There’s a bout of silence before you sigh. 
“Rin, you’re a huge soccer player. The people you’re dating and stuff - it’s a big deal,” 
Rin cuts you off. 
“That’s what you were worried about? My career?” 
“Well, yeah.” 
“You’re stupid.” 
“Hey! I’m seriously worried about it and then you go and—” 
He gives you a frown. He forgets all too often you’re like this. He’s used to your silly and unserious way of talking, so it slips his mind that you’re actually a massively responsible person. You probably have a point about it, thinking of the consequences of your relationship through hell and back. With a detached sense of rationality - Rin can recognize that you’re probably thinking about more things than this. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so touchy of a subject. 
Nothing’s changed on paper, but everything will eventually. It’s something to think about, admittedly. 
Honestly Rin doesn’t care what strangers think. He’s blunt and unfriendly. Always has been, and will continue to be through the majority of his career he’s absolutely sure. Even outside of Bluelock, he has almost no regard for the opinions of other people and what concerns them. Maybe it’s irresponsible, but Rin isn’t playing soccer for the approval of the populace and nothing will ever change that. 
“If I thought that was something I should worry about, we wouldn’t be dating.” 
You look up at him. 
“You should be worried about it.” You emphasize. 
“I’m not. I don’t care what any of those people think.” 
“Then why’d you go and say something?” 
Rin seethes.
“They deserved it.” 
Your hand reaches for his cheek. He pauses and takes a deep breath, staring at you. He leans into your touch instinctively, frustration eased by the sensation. You stare back. 
“Okay. We’ll announce it officially later, then.” 
“Do we even need to do that? If you tell three people, half of our grade’ll find out anyway.” 
“Are you saying my friends  gossip?” 
He doesn’t reply to that. You pout at him and Rin fights the urge to kiss you. There’s a beat of silence as you give him a hug - the two of you on the same roof you always are. Rin doesn’t mind it, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. 
“You know, it’s gonna get busy for me soon.” You mumble. So this is what else you were worrying about. “And for you. I have my entrance exam and the school is in Tokyo. And you’re gonna go back to Bluelock and—” 
“It’ll be fine.”
“I’m worried about it anyways.” 
“About what?” 
“I’ll see you less. What if you stop liking me randomly and I can’t even hunt you down about it?” 
Rin huffs “You’re insane enough to find me,” He drops his chin on your shoulder “Plus you talk to my mom.” 
“You’re gonna be so busy.” 
“I’ll come see you when I’m not.” 
“And you’re going to be surrounded by the human equivalent of siren women someday soon.” 
“I don’t care about that.” 
“But you might.” 
“I haven’t in eighteen years, you moron.” 
“I’m gonna miss you all the time.” You say, sniffly and Rin is so struck with a feeling of affection he almost falls “I already miss you all the time.” 
He squeezes you a little tighter “It’ll be fine.”
“For you.” 
Rin furrows his brow, pulling back to stare at you. 
“Not for me,” Because Rin can begrudgingly admit he will miss you worse than this “Just in general. It’ll be fine. You almost made it a year without me.” 
“But now I’m with you,” You reply easily, and softly and oh-so in love Rin wants to turn away “And I’m so happy and I want it be like this for a long time,”
“Just a long time? Not something stupid like a blossoming eternity?” 
“I thought I’d scare you.” 
“You did that in April.” He points out flatly. You hit him lightly but smile anyway. 
“It’s a problem how much I like you.” 
Rin likes you just as much. You’re probably too much of an idiot to realize and won’t for a long while. He takes a little comfort in, strangely.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll come see you.” He says again, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. He believes in it thoroughly. If Rin were a better, more candidly vulnerable person he thinks now he’d give the loving boyfriend speech. He almost wants to half-assedly try but can’t bring himself to get past the awkwardness. He hugs you tighter because it’s all he’s capable of, and hopes he can will it into you. The sincerity of his words, he wants so badly for them to reach you “Stop worrying so much.” 
“Rin-kun,” You start, then pause to look up at him. His breath hitches “Rin. I love you. Really.” 
He feels like he’s gonna be sick as he stares at you, eyes widened. You look the same as you always do. Unexpectant, terribly sincere, with your heart on your sleeve. The more Rin knows you, the more he thinks it can’t be easy to be so vulnerable all the time. 
So you do it for him, and only him. And Rin is always going to be intolerable. Frustrating and impatient. But he wants to do it for you too, where he can. Rin wants you to know it’ll be fine because the fact that you’re standing here now is nothing short of a miracle. Nothing comes out right. 
“Yeah.” He says, but he can’t get the rest of words out. And you laugh, and peek up at him through your lashes. 
“And you love me too, don’t you?” 
Rin grits his teeth. He wants to say no. 
“I guess.” 
“And we’re going to be just fine.” You repeat, hugging him tight. Rin hugs you back. He wants to say thank you. He wants to kiss you stupid and make fun of you at the same time. He wants you so much and so often he’s sure he’s lost his fucking mind. 
But he agrees with you, at least. He nods. He holds you. He doesn’t like to lie, so he looks at you instead. 
“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.” 
__
EPILOGUE ; 
In Rin’s defense, he’s not trying to listen in on the conversions of your underclassmen. 
For starters, the club door is cracked up and Rin only has one airpod fully charged. Secondly, it’s not like they’re being quiet. Rin’s pretty sure anyone with decent enough hearing could hear them from down the hall. Given that it’s the newspaper club, he’s sure that the conversation isn’t usually this interesting. 
It’s just when he catches wind of your name while you’re nowhere to be found, he finds himself eavesdropping just a little. He leans back into the chair he’s sitting in, face tucked into his black mask and hat pulled neatly over his head. 
“Guys, I’ve decided I’m going to confess to Boss  no matter what.” 
He must mean you. Rin often hears how some of the people in the club affectionately add danchou to the end of your name. Rin scoffs a little at the kids' confidence. It reminds him a little of highschool. Rin really think you’re at more of a risk than he is. Being a celebrity makes him naturally unattainable - more of a fixture than a person. 
Everytime someone confesses to you though it’s sincere. From knowing you. And he gets it but it doesn’t keep him from scoffing and turning his nose up. 
“It’d be a good idea to give up while you’re ahead.” Says another unnamed voice. 
“Yeah Nakao-san. Do you even know who Senpai's boyfriend is?” 
“N-no. But it doesn’t matter. Through the powerful of love I’ll—”
Before Rin gets a chance to listen anymore, he hears your voice call out for him. He snaps his head up to look at you. You’re dressed so professionally it’s hard to recognize you like that. Your hair is cut neat and styled professionally and you’re dressed in business casual. He’s relieved he brought shoes for you to change into. 
You run up to him anyway, and Rin stands up to make sure you don’t stumble as you throw your arms around his neck. You’re closer in height with your heels on so he doesn’t have to bend down much at all to kiss you. He pulls down his mask quickly.
“Rin-tan, you’re here.” You say with a soft, breathless giggle “I missed youuu.” 
“Missed you too,” He says, an arm squeezed around your waist “I have shoes for you in the car,”
You gasp, rubbing your cheek against his affectionately. 
“You’re the best in the world. My feet are so sore.” 
“Did the interview go well?” Rin asks. You pull away, moving your hair away from your eyes before nodding. 
“Uh-huh. The women's rugby team captain is super chill and she interviews great so it went smoothly. I just need to drop the transcript off and then we can leave,” You say holding his hand. He squeezes your palms “Do you want to meet them? You don’t have to but a lot of them ask about you.” 
Normally Rin would say no. But he’s feeling a little petty today, after all. 
“Sure.” 
You beam, your hand in his as you nudge the door open. The room goes silent, a bout of excited cheering following at your return. He’s relieved to see you’re still so well loved, a little reluctant to let go of your hand. 
“Senpai, you’re back.” 
“Yup, yup. I have the transcript and recording on this USB. Watch it and draft the article up tonight. When I come in tomorrow, we’ll go through editing and get it out by Monday.” You say, hand on hip before remembering his presence. You grab him and Rin follows “Oh, and guys - this is my boyfriend! Rin Itoshi.” 
Most of them seem to know. Rin can sense the admiration but it’s respectful. He can tell that everyone is professionals in the field. Rin likes that. He bows politely. 
“Nice to meet everyone,” 
“Nice to meet you too, Itoshi-san.” 
“Danchou…you’re dating Rin Itoshi…the famous soccer player Rin Itoshi?” 
You giggle, looping your arm in Rin’s. He laughs internally. It’s the same kid who wanted to confess to you. 
“Uh-huh. We’re highschool sweethearts! And today is our very special date night so don’t contact me for any reason until tomorrow morning at least. I’ll see you guys later.” 
“Bye, senpai.” 
“Have fun on your date.” 
With that, you turn the corner and leave the room - immediately beginning to ramble about your day. Rin half-listens. He only pays complete attention when he hears your kouhais talking from down the hall. 
“Told you to give up, dude.” 
“Rin. Are you paying attention?” 
He chuckles to himself. 
“Yeah. Sorry.” 
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❁ a/n ; hello!! me again. first of alll, if you read through this whole fic, thank you so much. second of all i want to discuss a few things about this fic.
im usually pretty keen on localization for my fics where possible because i think it makes for a smoother reader experience - however the usage of honorifics was important to the atmosphere for this one so i'll hope it wasn't too awkward to read.
secondly, im nervous about rins characterization for this one so i hope it was alright. apologies for any errors its 5am and im soo tired.
this fic was mostly meant as an exploration of how i think rin would really benefit from being with someone eccentric and bubbly. the core of their relationship is that reader is an overall emotionally intelligent and honest person and how that has a huge influence on rin so i hope that growth came thru. once again thanks for reading and i hope u enjoyed. rbs and tags always appreciated!
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pers1st · 1 month
Text
you open yours
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pt 2 of when every door closes
pairing: leah williamson x reader
notes: mentions of ed, j*rge vilda, lots of angst
Settling into Arsenal again was difficult, but it couldn’t have been more difficult than leaving, once more, for international break. The World Cup qualifiers were coming up quickly, and despite the fact that it felt as though you still hadn’t dealt with your early out in the Euros, there was no time to dwell on the past as Jorge Vilda made sure every player knew the gravity of the next few matches. With more and more players from Barcelona filling into the squad, you were subconsciously worried for your position. It was no secret that Barça was dominating European football, but somehow, for the qualifiers, you kept your head and spent every last second of every match on the pitch, even when the physios concluded you were very close to tearing your hamstring, much to the dismay of your teammates. It wasn’t that they didn’t want you to play- you had quickly proven to be a valuable part of the team, not quite the brick wall Mapi was, but an agile defender that solidified every win with perfectly-timed tackles and a good oversight of the play.
It was rather the fact that you so desperately needed a break, and everyone saw it but you. Every step you took on the pitch hurt, and if it wasn’t for María telling you to cut back on the painkillers, you possibly wouldn’t have even noticed if you’d torn your hamstring fully. You had, in addition, settled back into your club well enough to rely on nutritional energy yet again, with the help of your girlfriend, your teammates and the club’s psychologist, but all of that went to waste the second you saw Jorge Vilda before boarding the bus towards the team’s camp.
You weren’t done yet- Leah had told you as much after the Euros. You weren’t where you wanted to be, not with the Spanish national team, at least. A World Cup was the least you could achieve to compensate for everything you were going through, but during the camp, you and many other girls realized that there was a lot more you should, or well, a lot more you had to reach for.
So, to you, it wasn’t surprising when you came home with an open letter to the RFEF and a vision of how maybe, one day, playing for your country wouldn’t be your nightmare.
“Are you sure, love? I mean, aren't there like, really bad consequences?”, Leah asked confusedly, her hands around yours as you sat on the couch, you still wearing the same sweats you had worn on the plane.
You nodded, wandering back to the monologue Mapi had held about all of the possible outcomes of what you were about to do. Her voice had been hushed as she explained the ban you could face, which would affect all of your teammates, except Ona and Lucía, more than you. Not playing in the Spanish league wouldn’t hurt you as much, so long as Arsenal stayed your home, which you intended it to. Not playing for the Spanish national team- well, you trusted Alexia when she said that no one would face a ban, and you didn’t particularly want to think about what would happen if she was wrong. You were possibly throwing your national career away, and your stomach turned at the thought. But either way, you knew that playing in the environment that had been created recently, you would rot away anyways.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But what can be worse than this?”, you chuckled bitterly. Knowing well how dangerous it had been, truthfully, to play all those minutes, you knew that you would stay on the bench for a significant amount of time to recover, but you also knew that no matter what you, or your hamstring did, you would be called up for the next camp.
You couldn’t risk your career, not while you were this young. And if everything went according to Irene’s, Mapi’s and Alexia’s plan, you wouldn’t have to.
“If you’re sure, I am, too. And no matter what happens, I will support you. You know that, right?”, Leah asked, almost desperate to reassure you, but all you could do was nod absent-mindedly.
You were different, this time. Different from how you’d been after the Euros, but your girlfriend didn’t dare to ask what had happened for you to be this- reserved, almost. As if you still didn’t dare to speak, guarding your tongue harshly as if your manager was just around the corner, ready to jump at you for whatever it was you couldn’t say.
The night you spent tossing and turning didn't guarantee much sleep, but you were still surprised that your absence had woken Leah up, as she slung her arms around your shoulders slowly in her dark flat, the only light illuminating the kitchen from the little nightlight near the coffee pot. 
“Come back to bed”, your girlfriend mumbled, voice still thick with sleep, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your stomach warmed slightly at the gesture, but you were too encapsulated in your phone to really react to her presence, not letting her pull you back into false comfort. Nothing of what was about to happen, in merely four hours, would be comfortable. 
“Can’t sleep”, you gave back, your fingers tapping away on your screen as you replied to Ona’s message, who seemed to sleep as little as you did.
You knew that Leah didn’t know Spanish, and you knew that she was still staring at your screen, noticing how your phone lit up once more with a text that even you could barely detangle. Taking a deep breath, you clicked the call button right next to Ona’s contact, barely noticing how Leah detached herself from you to start a pot of coffee.
Ona’s words were messy, and you were barely able to understand anything besides the gut-wrenching fear that filled your apartment, all of a sudden. Her Catalonian accent was thick, and you knew that her emotion was taking over her, more so than it was affecting you. You had, sort of, gone numb.
“Ona, va a estar bien. No te preocupes”, you tried to calm your friend, who you could tell was biting back tears.
“Ale said it’ll be okay. Do you trust her?”, you asked as you didn’t receive an answer.
“Sí”, Ona mumbled, to which you nodded, forgetting the fact that she couldn’t see you.
“Then it’ll be okay. What are they going to do? Ban sixteen of their best players?”
“No sé. Maybe they are going to ban just me”, she huffed.
“No, Ona. That won’t happen”, you calmed her yet again, and stupidly enough, you actually believed yourself. 
The open letter went online while you were at training, which you were quite grateful for. None of your teammates had a clue, except for Leah, of what was about to happen, although they could all tell something needed to happen.
In the short twelve days the team hadn’t seen each other, you had lost a noticeable amount of weight, and hadn’t touched your breakfast, blaming your lack of appetite on the lack of sleep you had gotten. You stuck to Leah’s side like glue, more so than you usually did. And by the time the team was ready to step onto the field for the first training session of the year, you mumbled an excuse to leave the changing room into the wrong direction, and headed to the physio room without looking back.
After sending Jonas a text in the early morning, somewhere between your phone call with Ona and Leah dragging you back into bed, the physios were very well aware of your hamstring issue, and spent a lot of time analyzing your muscles and how bad exactly your injury was. It seemed as though it was quite bad, as most of the treatment was silent, and none of the physios reacted to how you flinched every time any of them even reached out to touch you, but you hoped they wrote it off as a mere reaction of you being in pain. You didn’t know if they could handle the truth. Didn’t know if you could handle the truth. 
Still, the events of the day couldn’t take your mind off the fact that your phone was likely exploding with notifications as the public and the RFEF reacted to your protest. Sixteen players were withdrawing. Sixteen. You didn’t believe Alexia, although she had promised there would be no serious, no negative
consequences.
And you were right not to do so.
Leah picked you up from the medical room, in which you remained long after the treatment, scrolling through twitter and multiple Spanish news outlets in hopes to absorb every single comment, every single word in reaction to your letter. 
“Hey, you”, she smiled softly as she found you lying on the bench, phone in your hands as it always seemed to be, allowing for it to drop onto your chest as you smiled back at her.
“Hey”, you mumbled back.
“How bad is it?”, she asked, and you didn’t know whether it was her calf or everything else she was responding to.
“Grade two tear. Eight weeks, at least. They don’t want to risk anything.”
The fact that your hamstring actually was a grade two tear should’ve surprised you more than it had, but at this point, you didn’t put it past the Spanish medical team to actually hide the information of your injury from you. You didn’t put it past Jorge to let you play on an injury that potentially worsened with every step you took.
“I’m sorry, love”, Leah sighed, gently moving closer to you.
“It’s okay. Home?”, you asked, hesitant to accept any kind of gentleness from your girlfriend. At this point, you weren’t sure whether you deserved it or not. That’s how far Jorge had gotten into your head.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go”, Leah smiled as she stuck out her hand for you to take, and you reluctantly accepted it, the warmth being unfamiliar to you.
It took a few days for the RFEF to formally respond to your protest, and in the meantime, you drove your girlfriend insane. She had no way of reaching you, although she tried her hardest. Holding you as she slept, only for you to slip out of her arms once you knew she was lulled in sleep. Getting up in the morning without you just to find you in the kitchen, drinking coffee and being glued to your phone as you over analyzed every detail that was revealed to the public. By the time Arsenal’s first match after the
international break came around, she was truly at her wit’s end.
“I don’t know what to do anymore. She won’t talk to me, won’t tell me what’s going on, it’s just- I really don’t know”, she tried explaining to Kim, who had, in the past few days, begun catching a glimpse of just how bad of a situation you were in. It was clear as day to the whole team that you were struggling again, but the others quickly grew used to your reserved nature, though it was so unlike you.
“What can we do to help?”, Wally asked, gently crouching down in front of your girlfriend and rubbing a circle over her knee comfortingly, her face as somber as Kim’s.
“I don’t know. I tried giving her space, but I’m not really sure it’s helping. It’s like she’s just drifting away”, Leah cried, gently wiping a tear from her cheek. She needed to be strong, now. For you. Crying would be no use.
“She’ll come back to you. Wait for the RFEF’s response, and see how she is afterwards. Maybe she just needs to reach a breaking point”, Kim tried to reassure her vice-captain, but the only reason Leah nodded was because she didn’t have a better idea, although she didn’t like the idea of waiting for you to crumble completely and being there to pick up the broken pieces. It proved, though, that this was exactly what you needed.
The official response of the RFEF came while you were sitting in the cafeteria, slowly picking apart the food Leah had gotten for you as an ice-wrap around your thigh forbade you from walking too much. Your phone lit up with a message from Alexia, and at once, you dropped your fork, instead focusing on the little device in front of you.
¿Has visto?
No, you hadn’t seen. Not yet, anyways, but at the notification, you reached for your phone, quickly opening the internet to search for an article reporting on the matter. It didn’t take long to find, and your stomach turned at the sight your eyes met.
El futbolista Y/N Y/L/N le prohíbe jugar al fútbol por España.
Your breath caught in your throat as you read the words over and over again, your vision blurring until the letters tumbled in front of your eyes, spinning in circles as you drowned out the world around you. You weren’t aware of how Leah, Kim and Wally were glancing up at you, didn’t register how Leah’s hand
caressed your knee as she noticed your breath quickening, didn’t hear the words of your teammates surrounding you, asking what was going on, as you kept skimming the article, desperate to know more.
You were the only player out of the sixteen to be banned. It was because you had just begun playing, had been cared for during your injury and were disrespecting your country for diminishing their efforts. If you’d had any air to, you would’ve laughed. But you didn’t have any. Leah’s eyebrows furrowed as she caught a glimpse of your screen, moments before you rose from your seat, clenching your teeth in pain as you got up and left the cafeteria, leaving behind a group of confused women, none of whom dared to find you, right now. None except for Leah. She was on her feet within seconds, calling after you to slow down as she could barely keep up with your strides. You didn’t care about the fact that you bumped into Jonas, almost making him tumble over as you were focused on your phone, didn’t hear how he called after you, didn’t hear how he called after Leah. You simply kept walking and walking until you found the media room, which you knew would be empty right now, and slipped through the door, letting yourself slide down the wall.
“Love? Hey, talk to me! What’s going on?”, your girlfriend’s voice rang through from what felt like a thousand miles away. You felt as though you were under water, waves washing over you and trapping you in your head. You couldn’t answer, couldn’t force any words out of your mouth as you, instead, choked on a sob.
Within seconds, you felt arms around you, pulling you into your girlfriend’s chest as you sobbed, struggling to breathe.
“I’m out. Leah, they banned me”, you cried out, gripping fists of her shirt as you desperately tried to fight the way your head seemed to spin. 
Leah’s soothing words fell on deaf ears as the noise around you was quickly becoming far too much, and you fell into your own little word, sobbing into her shoulder as she held you tightly. It felt like hours until you calmed down, but slowly, your breaths began to even and as you drew away from your girlfriend, your lips twitched upwards at the realization that she was still there.
“Hey, baby. You’re back with me?”
You nodded at that, slowly letting go of her shirt as you leaned your head back against the wall. It was pounding, as though knives were flying through your scalp, but you didn’t have the energy to complain.
“This isn’t forever, love. We’re gonna keep pressuring them, Alexia is gonna keep pressuring them, and one day they’ll fire Vilda and you’ll be back. Okay? I promise, it’s going to be okay”, she spoke, hands landing on your cheeks as she tugged your face towards hers. 
“And no matter what happens, I’ll be with you, for every step of the way. I won’t leave you, okay?”
“I can’t do this on my own”, you mumbled, the weight of the situation hitting you, though less quickly, more deeply now that you knew you’d need to face it.
“You don’t have to. I’m behind you, and so is everyone else. You don’t have to do anything on your own, my love”, Leah promised, bringing your head into the crook of her neck once again as she closed her arms around your fragile frame.
Leah’s words quickly came true, as you realized that each and every one of your teammates, whether it was from Arsenal or Spain, voiced their support for you. Whether it was Jonas in a press conference, Alexia via an Instagram post or Ona via countless text messages and insisting on coming to London to see you. Slowly but surely, you recovered from your injury and found your footing again, suddenly enjoying the time you got to spend with your or Leah’s family whenever she was gone for international duty. The World Cup was a totally different story, as you flew to Australia with Leah to watch every one of the Lionesses matches, but none of your own nation. You skipped the final as well, not able to let yourself daydream about being on the pitch again. Though you were happy for Ona, Alexia and your other friends, you couldn’t help the anxiety over the fact that Spain was just as good of a team without you, Mapi, Pina and Patri.
And although you were still anxious, you reluctantly accepted when the RFEF lifted their ban after Jorge’s sacking, proposing for you to wear your nation’s colors another time. 
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chimielie · 21 days
Text
yeah, you might want me to drop dead (but i don't even care)
summary: Atsumu x F!Reader. atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: he thinks you're hot when you're angry. you would categorize your relationship with atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 
word count: 2k
cw: miya atsumu's degradation kink (it's still sfw he's just not subtle), suggestive at the end
a/n: another resurrected fic from the drafts. walk him like a dog, bitch, walk him like a dog
Miya Atsumu was a player known for his thirst for blood. Like his brother, who termed the all-consuming need to dominate their opponent hunger, he relished in complete fucking annihilation. He was hardly soft off the court, too: few of his peers could withstand his cutting humor, his teammates couldn’t understand how he hadn’t scared off his fan club, and he had crushed a few hearts beneath his heel in his time.
He’d met his match in the natural enemy of heartbreakers: his university’s resident maneater.
“Hey!” Atsumu calls your name, lengthening his stride to catch up to you. You grimace—he can barely see your side profile now, but oh, you’re slowing down so he can catch up. Unusually considerate.
Oh, no, there’s just a clog in the artery of the crowded hallway, halting your escape.
“Hi,” he sing-songs, stretching the word out several extra syllables. 
“Good morning, Atsumu,” you say tightly, drawing up your shoulders so your arm won’t brush his bicep in the limited space. “I was hoping you’d died, since you weren’t in lecture this morning. Better yet, maybe someone buried you alive last night and you hadn’t dug your way out yet.”
“You went with the option that doesn’t kill me! You care,” he says happily, and takes a moment to bask in it. “I was actually at a volleyball game, you should come to one sometime, I’m pretty good at it—”
“I’d rather walk in traffic, ‘Tsumu,” you shoot him a wide smile that makes his knees feel weak and wobbly and shove your way straight through the crowd of people, leaving only an uncaring ‘Scuse me! in your wake. 
A lot of people would categorize your relationship with Atsumu as complicated. Atsumu is not one of those people.
Atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: many moons ago, you and he had been in a few of the same classes and shared some mutual friends—mere acquaintances. He hadn’t known you very well. In fact, he’d thought you were cute, which he now knows you aren’t. A few minor catastrophes he wasn’t privy to later, you had come to verbal blows with some loser in the middle of the quad. You’d later found it rather embarrassing. Watching you eviscerate him, though, Atsumu had experienced a fear like never before. If he was bloodthirsty, you bathed in ichor. 
He would always remember the look on your face as you dealt the final blow and turned away, walking with a straight back right toward him.
Atsumu, who had never seen anything quite like the look of controlled rage on your face as you took that man apart. Who wasn’t sure why the sound of you doing your damnedest to instigate a fight made him shiver despite being all too warm inside. Who was looking up at you from his seat like a puppy, desperate to see you don your war paint again.
You walked past him, because of course you did. You weren’t pulled by the same magnetic force he was, focused on him like he was suddenly fixated on you. You were barely acquainted with him and obviously going to your friends for moral support and ice cream and whatever it was people did after one of them basically tarred and feathered someone in the town square. He was merely a bystander along the path you strode.
Of course, the very action of totally ignoring his existence cinched it: he was hooked.
You would categorize your relationship with Atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 
You’d tried to ignore him. He was persistent, though, and he just pushed and pushed and pushed until he crossed the line. It was exhausting.
Except that you kind of loved fighting with him.
You couldn’t help the adrenaline rush it gave you, the way he seemed to light a fire inside you no one else could and keep it burning hot. It was almost like a release to debate him, the way some people boxed or listened to heavy metal to destress. The feeling of victory never failed to put a sparkle in your eye and a cocky smirk on your lips; sometimes, you felt like he was stepping back and letting you win.
This continued in perfectly pleasant vicious and sometimes bloody antagonism for the course of forever until a few months ago, when Atsumu had begun the new and inimitable torture of flirting with you. It was horrible and it was weird and you had no idea what kind of mind game he was playing, but you certainly intended to find out. 
Atsumu, for his part, had recently realized that he likes it when you smile so much more than when you scowl. He likes it when you flutter your lashes instead of staring flatly into his soul, hoping to yank it out and set it aflame. He likes it when you say nice things to him, which has only happened once, but was very nearly a second sexual awakening and thus monumental.
He does not like it when other men flirt with you.
“Your pencil is broken,” Osamu notes, glancing down at his brother’s clenched fist. “You’ll get splinters.”
“What? Oh,” says Atsumu distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll do it later.”
Your laugh rings across the library, the warm glow of a fireplace instead of the burning fires of hell you share with Atsumu. His grip slackens, and his twin takes the opportunity to prise the pulverized writing utensil out of his hand. This kindness goes unnoticed as the guy, that’s how Atsumu’s thinking the word in his mind, low and mocking, guy, says something to you that makes him instinctively kick Osamu in the shin.
“Ow! Douchebag!”
“Sorry, reflex,” Atsumu apologizes.
“Do you want to go with me?” Asks the dickhead you’re talking to.
“To ice cream? Sure,” you reply, and you don’t even sound like you’re being sarcastic. What the fuck? There’s a long pause while the jagoff scuffs his shoe against the floor, a red flush coming over his face while you stare slightly past him with your trademark stare. But your lips are slightly turned up.
The expression haunts Atsumu on his walk back. Your smile was so pretty, sweet and soft. You never smile at him except mockingly. 
“At the risk of sounding like I care,” Suna says. “Are you okay?” 
“If I killed someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Atsumu says, staring straight ahead.
“No,” Osamu says, “he’s finding out about human emotions and he’s coping very badly.”
Atsumu is ignoring you. As quickly as his interest (his desire to piss you off) had flared up, it had disappeared seemingly overnight, which was fine for you. It was great! You had booted the most annoying man in the world out of your life and replaced him with a perfectly nice guy. Your life was coming up roses.
Except it was driving you insane. You had your phone out, held an inch below your desk, leaving the perfectly nice guy (what was his name? You hadn’t saved it in your contacts and you weren’t sure why) on read as you stared across the room at the faux-blond.
He was chattering to another boy who looked bemused and patient; probably another volleyball player. You were half-convinced this was part two of his ploy to get under your skin; he was playing the unpredictable game.
As you try to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes, you see him glance back at you for a second, just a second, and that’s it. You slam your palms down on the desk, shooting up from your seat, trying not to make eye contact when a few other students turn and look at you because of the noise. He still won’t look directly at you as you make your way to his seat.
“I just remembered I have to leave,” says Atsumu’s friend—Aran, not that you care what his friends are called—picking up his bag. “I have to go be anywhere else right now.”
“What,” Atsumu whines as he books it away from the two of you. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Yeah,” you snap, folding your arms in front of your chest. You’re not sure why you’re so angry, just at the look of his melting chocolate eyes and hunched shoulders and pouty lips. Ugh. He’s the worst. “You’re avoiding me. Why.” The question sounds more like a sentence or maybe a threat.
“I’m not doing that,” he defends weakly. “Maybe I just got tired of looking at your face.”
“My face is fucking precious, okay,” you argue, “you should want to look at it all the time. Idiot. What’s wrong with you?”
“I do—I mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He returns, and there’s the familiar snap and sting that you like so much. “You don’t even like it when I talk to you—”
“I don’t!”
“So why are you mad now that I’m not?”
“Because—” You struggle for reasoning. You can’t find it. Something strange and huge is crawling its way up your throat.
“Because, uh, um,” he mocks you, and you almost sock him. “Make up your mind! I was trying to be nice to you, even though it’s fucking boring!”
“I don’t want you to be nice to me!” You shout, and then curl over, your face nearly in his lap as almost everyone else in the room turns to look at you. One of the library workers shushes you loudly. “It’s—you’re right, it is boring. Everything else is fucking boring. I like it when you bother me, ‘Tsumu, okay?”
“Okay,” Atsumu says, eyes widening, leaning away from you as you seem nearly on the verge of manic combustion in front of you. “Then—I’ll keep doing it?”
“Will you?” You sit up straight and look him squarely in the eye. He gulps, unsure what he’s being asked. Something is fluttering in his stomach, but he’s hesitant to trust it.
“Yeah,” he breathes, and it feels like so much more than a confession.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you say, in the same deceptively soft tone. “Can I kiss you?”
“Not if I kiss you—” You grab his face before he can finish talking and smash your lips onto his, first hard and like you’re trying to bully your way into his mouth, then a little sweeter, a little more tender. “First?”
“I win,” you say smugly as he tries to remember how to breathe.
“Please leave,” says the librarian. 
You live alone, which is amazing, because if Atsumu were to see his brother or teammates right now he might commit felony battery. In your apartment, which is full of trinkets Atsumu wants to examine but can’t because he’s very busy staring at you, you shove him onto the couch and sit on him. Sort of like you’re wrestling, but not at all.
“If we’re goin’ out,” he says, “we are going out, right?”
“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you say, and your smile is as bright as the stars. He clears his throat and prays his voice doesn’t crack.
“Good. Uh, if we’re goin’ out, does that mean you have to start bein’ nice to me?” 
“I’ll be nicer to you,” you promise.
“Oh.” His tone is almost disappointed. 
“Or,” you lean down, and he almost chokes on his own inhale. “I can date you and be mean to you at the same time,” you say into his reddening ear, your breath hot and your smiling lips barely, just barely brushing his skin. Atsumu makes a squeaking noise that can barely be understood. “What was that?”
“Yes, please,” he says fervently.
You bite his earlobe teasingly, and he finds that really nice, actually. The nicest.
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itoshi-s · 1 year
Note
can I ask you Sae or Kaiser on the weekend at their house with their s/o and can't stop teasing each other before you know 🤭...
I love your writing <3 thank you so much !
hii anon !! went with sae for this one as of i dont write for kaiser ( and i am biased hehe ), hope you like it !!(´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭
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*.✧ ft. sae itoshi
*.✧ wc: 4.3k. not proofread. nsfw / 18+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, sae's a pro player and in his early 20s. mention of masturbation, asphyxiation/choking, hard dom! sae (but turns softer), sae dirty talks a lot, he calls you a whore once :'>, squirting. note: inspired by in heat by hentai xander !!
*.✧ the heatwave takes it's toll on you, but sae doesn't really like excuses.
although rare, there are times where you regret flying to spain with sae.
it’s usually during one of your screaming matches, when he lets his mouth run and says a few words too many. (he’s quick to widen his eyes though at the sight of your wobbling lip, and soon has you in an embrace so strong there is no way you’re going to run away from him.) sometimes, it’s when you two can’t enjoy a peaceful night out, having to leave early because you can see people start to gather outside the club, having heard of the opportunity to see real madrid’s prodigy in the flesh. and then, it’s days like this - when all you can do is lay nearly naked on the once cool sheets, the ac blasting, and yet, your skin still shines with sweat, making the tee you’re wearing nearly see through as it sticks to your flesh.
it’s not like you’re a total wimp - you’ve always liked the humid heat that had so many people visiting spain all year round, and it even made you giddy when you could finally start wearing the skimpy, flowy clothing that back in your hometown, you only got to wear on the few hottest summer days. now, as you nearly feel lightheaded, you figure that 40 degrees celsius might just be the temperature that beats you. 
“it’s almost 6 and you still haven’t moved from the bed,” sae sounds amused from his spot on the balcony, glancing at you through the ajar doors. you turn your head to his direction, brows furrowing as you lean up on your forearm. 
“you’re letting the heat back in,” you whine, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed as you stand up rapidly. sae seems unbothered at the annoyed expression you wear, instead finishing his unknown iced beverage with a slurp of the straw, only turning your attention to you when his sight of the city below is blocked by that of your bare thighs. “this really doesn’t bother you, not one bit?” 
craning his head up to look at you, sae places the glass down and snakes his hands on the behind of your thighs. massaging the flesh, he can feel just how heated your body is - the warmth making his abdomen stir. 
“got used to it,” he shrugs, a shadow of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as your hands quickly work on prying his off your legs.
standing between his spread thighs, you are a sight that is just enough to make him harden in his shorts. he has to shift in his seat, hips bucking up momentarily and he knows, sees that your eyes flicker downwards, to where his hard on bulges in the 5 inch inseam shorts. 
“gross,” you scrunch your nose, but the slight shudder of your chest tells him otherwise. “don’t even think ‘bout it. i can barely stand in this heat, let alone keep up with you.” 
the attitude you’ve been sporting since yesterday, when the temperature started to rise abruptly, has been keeping sae on his toes ever since he first  noticed the grimace on your face. now, that you were finally in his arms’ reach and he won’t have to share you with anybody else, it seems like life decided to punish him for all his sins and selfish ways. the first time you rebuffed his efforts, it made annoyance bubble deep within his chest and he had to bite on his tongue as to not say something that’d only push you away further. if there was one thing sae hates, it is to impose on you- it’s all against everything that ever got him going. needing, craving you - wanting you all over him. nothing can rile him up the way your teary eyes do, whimpers and pleads turning to blabbering, muscles aching to touch him - but now, the image seems as far away as it did months ago, when thousand kilometers kept you separated. 
kissing his teeth, sae stands up from his seat and delivers a single smack to your bottom, fingers grabbing at the flesh, forcing a yelp from your throat. “watch it,” he quips, a finger sneaking behind the waistband of your thong to playfully snap it back. “you don’t want me joinin’ in.”
               ✧
yeah, you didn’t want him to join your little teasing game. that you know for sure, but you suppose it is too late for regrets now, when the temperature is still breaking the records and yet, sae managed to kindle an even stronger heat inside of you.
you have many things at the back of your head to keep worrying about, but somehow, sae and his presence all around is on the top of the list. now it isn’t just the mind fogging heat you have to suffer from, but also sae and his screwing around and to make it worse, you can’t escape it not even for a minute - you really do feel trapped with the consequences of your very own actions, right in your and sae’s top floor apartment. the heat is bringing you two main obstacles, that you just cannot seem to win over: you cannot leave the house to get back at sae and focus your mind anywhere else (you would quite literally melt), and, similarly, sae can’t leave either, considering the temperature’s high enough to keep people from doing daily tasks outside, yet alone practice and exhaust themselves (unlike you, he is very much thankful for the few obligatory days off). this leaves you in a position where you have to either swallow down your pride, give in to your urges - which feel almost primal to you now - and start begging your boyfriend for even just a lick of his attention. 
as if having to admit defeat wasn’t enough, you’re met with a wall that sae managed to build up almost overnight - one that’s made of thick glass, so that it keeps him out of your needy reach, but allows him to stare down at you with a condemning glare, a glint of a smirk on his lips, as if saying see, i told you. you’ve tried just about every trick in the book to ignite the spark in the emerald orbs you’ve grown to love, but it’s all old news to him, it seems, and he doesn’t budge no matter how desperate your efforts are. 
or so you think - just because sae doesn’t barge in right through the bathroom door upon hearing the muffled moans as you shower, doesn’t mean that the sound leaves him unbothered. your legs almost kick out involuntarily from the dopamine rush as you feel your walls squeeze at your fingers, orgasm rushing through every nerve and making you keen softly. sae, sae please - he can hear it all, and knows very well that it’s exactly what you wanted of him when you left the door ajar, inviting. he has to grab at the throbbing in his shorts, giving his cock a single squeeze to relieve at least a crumb of the pressure or otherwise, he just might lose his cool and give in to you. he exhales through his nose, the knees that can carry him through the whole field in a flash now feeling weak under his weight as he listens to your moans die down. 
the heat doesn’t let up, even though it’s been two days already - the forecast says it should start moving north soon, finally give spain a moment to breathe - but sae’s stubborn, and you know that the tight knot that seems to tighten with each of his looks sent your way won’t come undone anytime soon.
oh, you have no idea how hard this miffed face you’ve put on makes him. he sees you trying, of course he does, the way you started wearing your tiniest cropped tops and some flimsy panties around the house - even though you both know that it’s easier to fight the heat when wearing loose clothing. but if you wore anything else, he wouldn’t have the view of your tits perking up as you stretch, sitting on the other end of the leather brown couch, the underside coming to view and luring him in to touch - and that he knows, too. he’s well aware that each and every time he groped and grabbed at the flesh of your bottom, he’s made it clear just how obsessed he was with the soft muscle there - and now you’re using it against him, as you bend over to reach for something under the sink. if only sae didn’t know just how much of a whore you could be, he’d think that the wet spot on your panties was just his vision playing games with him. but he knows, and yet it doesn’t make it any easier on him to not give up and submit to his need.
you can feel your eyelids grow heavy, struggling to keep your focus on the random movie you’ve put on the tv to kill the time. the sunlight seeps through the blinds, scolding at your heated skin as you shift, clammy skin sticking to the leather brown sofa. you hum softly, head tilting to the side as you hear sae stop by the back of the couch, peeking at the scene playing out on the flat screen. one warm hand rest on the crook of your neck, sending a surprised shiver right down your spine, and your eyes wearily flutter open as you feel sae’s fingers slowly snake around your throat. giving a few light taps to your jugular, he gives no effort into knocking the breath out of your lungs as his hand gently squeezes. you were nearly dozed off just seconds before, but now you’re back awake and alert, heart racing as you feel sae’s hand fully wrap around your neck - a whimper ripping from your throat, thighs rubbing against each other at the thought that this might just be it.
sae almost jolts at the quivering sound, pulling his hand away quickly, “oi,” he mumbles, fighting back a smirk as he notices your shoulders tremble. he got you good. “sorry. i thought you were asleep,” the hand comes back up to ruffle your hair. “won’t disturb you anymore.” and just like that, he’s already walking down the hall, soon disappearing into your bedroom, leaving behind a burn at your neck and a throb between your legs.
the all-time high hits a few hours later, when sae wakes from his afternoon nap and reluctantly gets off the bed, slides padding softly against the hardwood floors. he scratches at the back of his neck, heading to the kitchen to grab a cold drink,
“hey,” he’s greeted by your voice, sweet but hushed, as if the heat sucked all of your energy out and only left a shadow behind. (you’ve always been so soft when tired - it always made him press kisses to your reddened cheeks and just below your glassy eyes.) sae gives a small nod and notices the bright blue popsicle in your hand, eyes moving from the iced treat upwards, to your face - just in time as your tongue lolls out to take a long lick.
sucking a breath in, he forces a smile, “hm, you took the last one,” he notes, turning his back to you as he grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with tap water.
“yeah,” you hum, slurping, and sae feels his knees buckle.he keeps up his act, leaning back against the marble counter as you lock eyes. the juice is leaking down your fingers and you move to lick it off, a slow lap up your hand,  “m’sorry, sae.” red starts to seep into his view, gaze zeroed on your tongue as it works around the tip of the lolly.  “couldn’t help myself.” and then, it snaps.
you jump in your seat as sae slams the glass down on the table, and you want to knit your brows together and urge him to be careful - but seeing his restraints break makes your heart race and pussy throb. you are shameless, but it doesn’t matter anymore. not when it has him so feral, desperate to feel you. he doesn’t give you time to react - he’s known worldwide for his quick reflexes, after all - before he’s already pulling your hand away to the side and presses his hungry lips to yours.
you don’t have it in you to even joke about him making a mess as the popsicle falls to the floor from your hand, mouth full of his tongue as it licks at your cheeks and grazes along your teeth. it has you moaning, a lewd muffled sound, as sae quickly works on pushing his sweatshorts down. he breaks the kiss as he hears you struggle to breathe, a strong hand wrapping around your throat in a firm grip instead as it pushes you down. your head spins at the urgency of his movements and the grunt he lets out when your knees hit the floor.
“you’ve been actin’ like a real fucking whore,” he grabs at your jaw tightly instead, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheek and forcing your mouth agape. “you know that?” one would’ve thought that it’s embarrassing, the way he has you on your knees in a matter of minutes, tongue hanging out, saliva pooling at the tip - but to you, this feels right. your hands pull at the waistband of the grey sweats, tugging them down promptly and a groan rips from sae’s throat at the feeling of his cock springing free. you reach to wrap a hand around it, just below the reddened head, and flick your thumb over the beads of precum that already seep out the tip. you crane your head up to watch sae’s brows furrow at the initial rush of pleasure and keep your wide eyes right on his as finally, you lean in to get a taste.
reaching one hand behind him, he grips the edge of the dining table and leans against it, other hand trailing up from your neck to grab a fistful of hair. he twists the locks around, hearing you wheeze at the sudden surge of pain, and cuts your surprised sounds off by pushing his hips forward.
“ha-ah-” he gasps, eyes trained on your face and how the tears already start to cling to your lashes, “fuck- show me you’re sorry.” he grunts, shoulders rolling back before he adjusts the tight grip on your hair and pulls your face towards his abdomen. and if you didn’t feel sorry for teasing the fuck out of him yet, then you were surely regretting it now as he bullies his cock deep into your mouth, until your small hands grab at the back of his muscled thighs. “yeah, that’s it. take it.” you squeeze your eyes shut at the burn in the back of your throat, at the feeling of sae’s cock nearly rubbing up on your tonsils. it makes you gag, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth already, and you feel rivulets of tears rush down your face as he pushes your head even further. 
your nose presses against his abdomen, well trimmed and smelling of his shower gel and sweat. it turns your mind foggy and head dizzy - or is it the lack of oxygen? - as he starts thrusting, forcefully, other hand coming up to the back of your neck to gain better control of your movements. “you know tha- ah- that i hate fuckin’ brats,” your nails break the pale skin on sae’s thighs, crescent moons glowing bright pink as you grasp at the sturdy muscle. it’s starting to ring in your ears, and your neck cramps from sae’s grip. “and yet, you want to be one so badly.”
your hands scurry to grap at his legs, desperate as white dots start to sparkle across your jet black vision and yet, he stills his hips, so deep you can almost feel him in your guts. you know he adores the free use you let him have of you, and that he has his moment to pull out perfectly calculated, knowing your limits better than even you do. but, sometimes, you wonder if he’s going to push you even further, until your muscles grow limp, throat relaxes around his girth-
you heave and gasp at the sudden flow of air as sae abruptly pulls you off of him, hand flying up to clutch at your chest. there’s saliva pooling on the floor, a shameful image of filth that he forces from you each and every time, and from the corner of your eye you see sae step out of his shorts and kick them to the side.
“six,” he speaks, cutting through the spiraling the asphyxiation put you into. “that’s how many times you’ve lead me on.” you whimper as sae grabs you by the forearm, pulling your body up from the floor. he takes notice on how it already feels putty in his hands as he backs you up against the table and pushes at your heaving chest until your back hits the wood. standing between your spread legs, he waits - listens.
“i’m- ‘m sorry,” you hiccup, voice wet with tears as one of sae’s thighs presses right against your clothed heat. he clicks his tongue, feeling the dampness against his skin, and he crams his muscle against your pussy harder. “you were- you were teasin’ me, ‘n i needed you,” your hips stutter unwittingly, an attempt to spark some friction on your throbbing clit. sae notices, stoic eyes taking a short glimpse down to where you’re pressing up against him, before he focuses back on your pretty face. 
“huh?” he fakes astonishment, fingers working to pull the thin material of your thong to the side, “i thought you didn’t want me? said somethin’ about the heat?” you gasp at the touch of his fingertips, the sensation turning your brain to mush, forcing quiet thankyouthankyouthankyou out of your mouth. keeping his stare on your expression, he places a thumb on your awaiting clit, and stills. 
your back arches, a sob ripping through your chest, hand clutching at his wrist. “sae-”
“shh,” he hushes, slowly starting to rub precise circles, feeling the nub throb under his thumb. “you’re a lucky girl, you know that?” his other palm rests on one of your knees, slinging your leg to rest on his shoulder. your head smacks back against the table and you’re pretty sure sae’s change of pace is giving you whiplash as he presses a kiss to your ankle, right by the little charm adorning the gold chain he’s once bought you.
“only you can treat me like that and still deserve to be touched.” two fingers prod at your entrance, collecting the translucent cream that seeps out. you rest your forearm across your eyes, cheeks growing red as you can feel sae’s eyes zero in on your pussy, oozing with need. he dips a finger in, experimentally, watching out for a reaction as softly, he massages it against your front wall, barely two knuckles deep. 
your body shivers, and sae wraps one arm around your leg, still resting against his chest to keep you from squirming. leaning down, he kisses you, mouth hot on yours as he drinks up every little gasp and keen as he works his fingers right against the sweetest spot he could find. pressing his palm flat on your clit, he picks up the speed, and you grab at his bicep with a breathy cry.
“gonna cum,” you blabber, but sae already feels it around his digits as they reach deeper, knuckles bending to kiss at the right spot. he hums - a quiet permission - with his fingers flexing on the flesh of your thigh as he holds you close through your high. he groans at the stuttering of your hips and squeezing of his walls on his fingers, so tight that he can barely move them to ride your high out, and rests his forehead on your collarbone. he feels, hears the translucent liquid spray against his palm as it rubs across your clit, grinds on it heavily. one of your hand is still holding onto his wrist, dainty fingers gripping on the bone as you squeal, the sensitivity making your nerves tingle. 
sae eases his fingers out of you and he feels his cock throb at the sheen of your juices all over his hand - a tell tale sign of just how good he could make you feel - before he wraps it around his length, giving it a few firm pumps. you watch with half lidded eyes, saliva thick in your mouth as you try to pull your hips back. sae sends you a stern look, eyebrow raised, and you blush at the expression.
“wait a second,” you breathe, but feel sae’s cock slide between your folds anyway. with a low grunt, he grabs your other leg and puts it on it’s place on his shoulder. 
“‘ve waited enough, i think,” he retorts, the fat, throbbing head catching on your sensitive clit and it makes him suck in a breath. you’re squirming underneath him, his hands on your hips not doing much in terms of keeping you still, but he’s just too focused on the warmth of your pussy across his length. you reach a hand down, fingers just barely wrapping around his cock as you guide it at your hole. 
with just the slightest move forward of his hips, sae pushes right against the tight entrance, brows knit together as he bottoms out in a single motion - and his shoulders drop at the feeling, chest relaxing as if all the pent up tension had finally its’ outlet. your vision blurs as his hands move to your thigh and waist, creating just the perfect leverage to manhandle your body for his own pleasure., and you have to bite at the back of your hand to muffle your cries as sae sets a quick pace.
you’re incoherent as he strokes deep inside of you, hips smacking against the back of your thighs, heavy balls slapping on your ass. it sounds so fucking filthy, so borderline obscene, and yet, when you manage a glance at sae’s face, he looks so fucking tepid. you’ve seen this face before, usually on the big screen at the stadium as the camera zoomes in on his face as he handles the ball expertly. if there are two things that sae itoshi knows, it is soccer and fucking you dumb. he has his eyes trained on your pussy, at the creamy white ring that forms just at the base of his cock, and he grunts.
“you take me so well,” he breathes, one hand letting go of your thigh to smack across your ass. it leaves a handprint, a pretty pale pink that burns on your skin, a reminder of tonight to stay on your flesh for the next few days. he wraps one hand around your throat, palm pressing on your jugular as he leans forward, sturdy chest pressing right against your tits, barely covered by the skimpy top you’re still wearing. you struggle to catch a breath, but sae only watches with observant, sharp eyes; soaks in the fucked out expression drawn across your face. 
“you gonna cum for me ‘gain?’ he asks, euphoria in every breath as he drives his hips against yours even harder. he reaches one his hands just below your bum, pushing it upwards, creating a new angle that allows him to thrust right against your favorite spot. it makes your eyes roll back, chest trembling with a sob as you nod your head quickly, urgently.
“please,” you whimper, and sae presses his forehead against yours.
he grunts, grip on your neck tightening as he braces himself to push into you harder, deeper. he feels his balls pull against his body, a shaky breath slipping past his parted lips, and he listens to the broken moans he’s forcing out of your abused throat.
sae isn’t at all surprised his ego reaches the highest of heights - not with his name all over every  sports site, every magazine, stamped onto tens of trophies. not when he can get you to cry for him like that.
“ah- fucking hell-” he moans as he feels your pussy clamp down on his cock, a clear sign of your orgasm hitting you full force. your voice gets caught in your throat, but he can feel the tears sink into his hand as they stream down your face and jaw; he can feel your jittery hips against his, the pulsating of your walls on his throbbing, aching cock. 
he feels the tight knot snap and with a deep groan, he bottoms out and stills his hips. white paints his vision as he breathes against your mouth heavily, pressing hot, messy kisses on your love bruised lips. you can’t feel your thighs anymore, the stretch of the mating press having exhausted them to their limit, but you still whimper when sae pushes even deeper. his cock kisses at your cervix, filling you right up to the brim, and you feel him shudder. 
you move your hands to rub up his biceps, taut and strong as they hold him up, and moan out as he slowly pulls his hips back.
sae takes a proper breather, heart hammering still against his ribcage as he straightens himself. he lets go of your neck eventually, instead smoothing his hands up your hamstrings and calves, slowly easing your legs back down and to wrap around his hips. you look at his face and feel your tummy flutter at the fucked out expression, the way his already dull eyes has grown even darker and how the blush spilled across his cheeks. he notices your staring and smiles slightly, having caught his breath eventually.
“go clean up,” he sighs, giving your bottom a pat. “time to cool down.”
      ───────────────────────────      
reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)
© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.
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skipper1331 · 5 months
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Baby // Esme Morgan
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a/n: based off this request. Enjoy:)
"My love" the blonde whispered as she hugged from behind, trailing soft kisses along your neck. You couldn‘t help but melt in her grasp, your skin tingling at each brush of her lips. "You‘re so beautiful" her hands rested flat on your growing stomach. Ever since you told Esme that you were pregnant, her sweet girl personality just turned sweeter. She was the happiest person, you were her wife and soon the mother of her child. Everything felt perfect, Esme treated you with so much respect and love, cared about you like no one else did.
"I missed you today" you whispered, your head falling against her shoulder as you softly swayed to the soft music in the background.
"I missed you too but I’m also a bit mad at you" she matched your voice level, still pressing featherlight kisses along your skin.
You stopped your movement, turning in her hold as you looked at her confused, "why?"
"My girl, I told you I’d go to the grocery store yet you did it by yourself" she stated.
"But you were at training and I had nothing to do" you grumbled, crossing your arms as you glared at her.
"you’re not supposed to carry heavy things" she smiled down at you, so much adoration in her eyes. She looked at you like you hung the moon.
Every day, she thanked the universe that she could call you her own.
"Baby!" you whined, "I can still do things in the household"
With her finger on your lips, she shushed you, "Firstly, you carry our baby, so don’t carry heavy stuff. And secondly, you help enough already by motivating me with your existence" she grinned, littering kisses all over your face, to which you responded with her favorite sound: giggles.
-
"Hello, here is your mama" the defender mumbled against your tummy, her thumbs drawing circles at your sides, "I love you very very much. And your mommy, I love her very much too" Esme looked at you, loving eyes already staring back at her. Your heart fluttered at each of her words, your skin tingled at each touch and your mind was consumed by the thoughts of Esme interacting with your baby. She’ll be a great mama. "I‘ll raise you as the biggest City fan. You will walk around with a little jersey and then you‘ll meet your aunties." the city player stated.
The answer came straightaway - a kick.
The blonde gasped loudly, sitting up, "That was an agreement!"
"No it wasn’t" you laughed, "he‘s going to be raised as a gunner"
Esme left your touch, immediately, her expression unreadable. You never saw that kind of a look in her eyes. She seemed shocked, happy, confused and- you couldn‘t tell. Did you say something wrong?
"It‘s going to be a boy?" she breathed out.
Shit! You didn‘t mean to ruin the surprise of the gender.
"Esme- I’m so sorry!" you tried explaining, your hands grabbing her own as you were about to cry, too many emotions filling your body.
"Hey, don’t cry. My love, don‘t cry" she was by your side in an instant, her arms around your body as you cried in her chest. The defender whispered sweet nothings into your ear while she tracing patterns on your skin, in a manner of calming you down.
As your tears stopped rolling you down your cheeks, you looked up, the lioness smiling at you with her own tears in the corner of her eyes, "it‘s going to be a boy."
nothing but pride shone through her eyes as her smile showed her happiness.
-
"What if he doesn‘t want to be a sky blue?" Esme asked as the two of you laid on the couch, the tall girl absentmindedly playing with your hair. "What if he wants to be a red devil? That would be the worst" she grumbled, continuing to ramble about the choice of club.
Chuckling into her chest, you couldn‘t help but admire her, she often told you about the things she wanted to show your baby boy and let you feel like the prettiest person alive by just looking about you. It was amusing that she was seriously concerned which club your little man would support. "You know I think red is the better colour"
"I know" the blonde groaned, hiding her face, "you‘re lucky I love you"
"I love you too"
Pulling her in for a sweet kiss, she smiled against your lips. Gently, her hand slipped under your shirt, fingertips dancing across your spine as you melted with one another. Kissing Esme will always be one of your favorite things to do.
"I love our boy even if he doesn‘t support City"
-
It was the 28th March when the two of you finally met your baby boy.
-
"Are you my favorite boy, yes you are" Esme smiled, your son in her arms as he looked at her with wide eyes, somehow a smile plastered on his face.
-
Esme loved being a mum, the same as you did. It fulfilled her heart with so much pride, love and passion.
"Look at your mommy, she‘s the most amazing person in the world" she held the boy who was looking everywhere but at your sleeping figure on the couch.
"I love her very much" she continued, "and she makes me so happy."
"I met her when I was 14, that‘s a little bit older than you are at the moment, my boy and I immediately fell in love with her"
-
"I‘m so sorry" a young Esme apologized over and over after she had bumped into you, your books and notes falling out of your hands. In a matter of seconds she was squatted down, picking up your stuff while you joined her, "i didn’t see you" she muttered, desperately trying to pick up each pen.
"It‘s okay"
As she went to grab the last pen, your mind had the same thought. Your hands touched for a brief of a second, the blonde looking up, her breath caught in her throat, "now, i see you" and you were absolutely breathtaking. Esme had never seen someone as pretty as you.
-
"9 years later, i still think the same. Your mommy is breathtaking" she smiled fondly as your son looked at Esme with big eyes.
"I asked her to be my girlfriend through a love letter. She made me felt like a poet, lovely words ran through my mind, your mommy running through my mind all day long, even at night."
-
The sun was setting, the sky beautiful with it colours as the two of you walked through the streets. Esme, the sweetheart she was, not accepting "I can walk home on my own, I’m old enough"
She walked beside you, your hands softly brushing against one another’s. You wanted to hold hers but you were too shy to take matters into your own hands, so you accepted the touch of brush.
Esme didn’t.
After the third brush, she just slipped her hand in yours, your heart racing at her gentle touch. "Is that okay?" she asked, not looking at you.
"Yes" you replied.
So while one of her hands held yours, the other one was hidden in her jacket, the love letter between her fingertips.
"Thank you for walking me home" you smiled, your hand not leaving hers, not yet.
"Always"
You looked at each other, soft smiles displayed on your faces, "um, this is for you" shyly and with red cheeks she pulled out the envelope, your name written in cursive on it.
You were about to open it as she stopped you, "don‘t. not now"
She looked vulnerable - you respected her wishes.
-
"I still remember what i wrote in that letter"
-
'My y/n,
As i sit down to write this letter, my heart, my body and mind is bursting with emotions.
Forgive me, if some sentences don’t make any sense - my mind is spinning, consumed by the thought of you.
I love the way you laugh, the sound of your giggles music to my ears.
I love the way you smile, how it reaches the corner of your eyes.
I love the way you talk, your voice expressive and gentle.
I wake up with the intention to make you smile and laugh.
I go to be with the hope that you follow me into my dreams - you do.
I dream about you at night, at day and about the future, our future.
The moment i laid my eyes on you, i knew that my heart would be yours - forever.
I respect you.
You make me feel happy, dizzy and relaxed - i feel safe with you.
Yet words will never be enough to describe the things you let me feel.
You are special.
I want you to be my girlfriend, so I’m asking you: do you love me the same way i love you?
-Esme:)‘
-
"Your mama was very romantic" the blonde chuckled, her index finger softly caressing along the boys cheek as his eyes fell shut every now and then. It didn‘t stop the City player - she continued talking.
She continued with the story, how she asked you to marry her and talked about your reaction, how she asked every important person in your life for their blessing, something you appreciated so much.
"One day, someone will love you the way i love your mommy" she whispered, your son fast asleep in her arms.
Pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, she laid him in his crib, admiring as her heart swelled with love. What she failed to realize was that you weren‘t sleeping anymore - that you were wide awake, listening to the things she told your baby boy.
Gently, you snuggled her arms around her waist, the girl frightened for a moment before she realized it was you. Her favorite girl on earth.
"You‘re still a hopeless romantic"
She turned in your hold, her own arms wrapping around your waist as yours changed their position.
"What else did you hear?" the defender asked, cheeks crimson red - you made her mind spin, knees weak and heart race, she felt shy and nervous. Even after years, you still had the same effect on her.
"Everything"
-
"Do you want to surprise your mama?" you asked the boy who babbled about something, happily accepting the fact that he was in your arms, small hands gripping your shirt.
Esme was at training, the boy and you at home while you got your son ready for her surprise. Yesterday, the surprise finally arrived and you couldn‘t be more excited to see her reaction. You bought a mini city jersey, the name Morgan displayed on the back with her number 14.
Your son looked absolutely adorable.
Excited, you waited patiently for her to return, occupying the boy with some simple things.
"My love, I’m home" she called after what felt like an eternity, "wow" she stopped in her tracks, the sky blue catching her eyes immediately. "What‘s this?" she asked confused.
"What does it look like?" you hand her the boy who clapped his hand as she eyed his outfit. Esme’s heart made jumps as she saw her baby boy with her jersey, "you‘re such a cute little boy" the mama stated happily as she caressed his cheeks.
"Where‘s yours, my love?" she asked, eyes on you as she took a step towards you to peck your lips.
"In the drawer" you looked at her, raising a brow, "do you want me to put it on?"
Enthusiastically she nodded, "pretty please"
5 minutes later, you walked in the living room your two favorite people seated on the couch. As soon as you entered the room, Esme’s eyes lit up, "you look beautiful" she breathed, the sky blue making her happy as the jersey hugged your body perfectly. You took a seat beside her, your head falling against her shoulder while one of her arms made its way around your waist. Your son was already asleep in her touch, the boy never one to stay awake for long if his mama held him.
"I know you‘re a gunner, my love, but seeing you in this shirt makes me so incredibly happy" she mumbled, "and our little boy also wearing one, I can‘t describe the things i‘m feeling."
"Even though I prefer red over blue, sky blue will always be my favorite" you smiled, leaning up to kiss her, softly.
Wrapped up in your own little lovely bubble, it caught you by surprise when your son‘s first left his mouth.
"mama"
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desperate-gay · 4 months
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oh my god I need a sonnett x reader for my SOUL,,, maybe a lil smut,,, some strap action- 👀👀👀
if you want a specific request maybe the reader plays for portland and has a rivalry with sonny and things get a lil heated after a match,,, 👀 xx
Rivals
Emily Sonnett x fem!reader
SMUT 18+
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It is a friendly game between OL Reign and Portland Thorns. Even if the game had no potential value, it doesn’t mean the competition is any lower. Both teams have held a deep rivalry with each other for so long that neither will admit to defeat easily.
So here you are in the second half with only 5 minutes left of stoppage time and a tied score of 2-2. There have been many fouls called on both sides from the roughness of trying to keep possession of the ball, like right now. You’re trying to maneuver the ball closer to the penalty box, but the relentless defender Emily Sonnett will not allow you to do so with her arm wrapped around yours and her feet kicking at your legs. Eventually, she times her kicks a little too early, causing you to trip and fall.
The ref blows the whistle, signaling for a free kick as Emily approaches her trying to defend her behalf. The foul was committed a little outside the box, making it easy for you to kick it in or close to goal. After a minute, the defender stops her protests and gets in position while you adjust the ball to your liking. The sound of the whistle signals it is time to start, so you hold your arm up and kick high in the air, flying over the wall of defenders and allowing Smith to head it into the goal.
The stadium starts rumbling while the whole team runs to both you and Sophia, hugging you both in the middle. Reign kicks off the ball for a second only to be stopped by the blow of the final whistle. Everyone goes to hug the opposite team players, and when you go to hug Emily and back up, her hand grabs your hip and pulls you in her direction.
“You’re going to regret that foul when you’re panting underneath me tonight, begging for me to let you cum.” She mumbles it so the cameras can’t catch what she is saying to you.
Yes, both of your teams are rivals, and yes, you shouldn’t be sleeping with the enemy, but ever since you both ran into each other at a club, it’s really hard to stop. You were going out with a few of your teammates and you got a little too tipsy for your liking, but so did Emily. She started with teasing you and then dancing, but it led to you making out in the corner of the dance floor and stumbling into a cab together.
The two of you get along quite well, but you’re both afraid of admitting you could be something more than just fuck buddies, so you leave it like that. You’re also very competitive against one another on the field so that dampers both of your prospects on a relationship forming. There’s no harm in getting a few mind-blowing orgasms occasionally by someone you find extremely attractive.
“I bet you regret losing, don’t you?” You taunt back before making your way toward your team, stunning the blonde who stands still in her place. Yes, you both have your fronts, but whenever Sonnett makes a bold phrase like that, you’re usually immediately under her control. Today, basking in your win, you’re not going to give up that easily.
When you’re done rinsing off and changing, you head out of the locker room only to get pulled by your arm right away, confusing you and giving you whiplash. Noticing it’s Emily, you relax a bit, but you’re soon shoved into what seems to be a janitor's closet. Her hands grab your hips and slam you against the now-closed door before viciously attacking your neck without warning. She kisses any skin available and nips at the spots she knows drive you crazy.
“Sonny, what are you doing? Someone will find us.” The words spurting out your mouth are supposed to be filled with worry, but with her teeth scraping along your sweet spot, the words come out as broken sighs.
“The door is locked, and if you keep quiet, no one will know that we’re in here.”
“We are not having sex in a janitor's closet!” You whisper yell to get your point across without someone hearing you.
The older girl pulls away from the crook of your neck with a grin on her face. “Why don’t you come over to mine then, baby? I’ll show you who the rightful winner is.” You practically gulp at her sentence, answering her question with an eager nod, causing the blonde to chuckle. “So obedient.”
Emily opens up the closet and slips out to see if anyone is around. Once she sees that the cost is clear, she knocks 3 times on the door, signaling it’s okay to come out. When you come out, her arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into her as she takes you to her car.
She leans down and presses a subtle kiss to your ear and whispers, “We’re gonna have so much fun, princess.”
“Is this what winners look like? Begging underneath the supposed loser to cum?” Emily’s fingers drag tortuously in and out of you for what feels like the 30th time.
A thin layer of sweat covers your skin from the hours of edging as your legs tremble due to your body being overly sensitive. Right when you walked through her door, you were pushed against the door while Emily ripped off all your clothes one by one. You thought you’d be more on the rough side and still be able to get off, but boy were you wrong.
Her idea of showing you who the winner is is by having total control. Making sure your hands stay to yourself, feeling your walls clamp around her fingers only to pull away so you can’t cum, driving your body into overstimulation, making you look like a rag doll. Emily has been competitive at heart since she was born always competing against her twin sister to now playing professional soccer.
She adores it when you look weak beneath her. How she would love to just take a picture and show it to all your teammates to prove that you’re such an obedient girl for her, something no one would know from your facade on the pitch.
“Em, let me cum once. Just once, please.” You pant, whining when her fingers halt, once again stopping your approaching orgasm.
“Fine. But you wait until I tell you too, okay?” She grins seeing you instantly nod your head, showing just how much of a wreck you are, wreathing and panting under her.
Her hands hook under your knees, pulling them up and gesturing for you to hold them in place, spread wide enough for easy access. Right as her index and middle finger slip into you, a loud moan escapes your mouth which only makes the blonde’s smirk widen. Instantly, her digits are pounding into your dripping hole relentlessly, the wet noises from each thrust echoing through the room.
Your moans start to become more like squeaks, the overwhelming feeling of pain and pleasure flowing through you. Emily’s other hand comes up and her thumb begins to rub fast circles around your clit, making your orgasm build up faster.
“I’m close.” You pant, hips arching further into her hand only to be cut off by the blonde’s stern voice.
“Hold it.”
You whine, squeezing your eyes shut, trying your best to hold it in. Your whole body is going against the intruding pleasure, afraid if you do cum, you won’t be able to walk the next day. Reaching down, your hand grabs her bicep to catch her attention.
“Em, I can’t hold it much longer.”
“Wait until I give you permission.”
The build-up flowing through your bones is almost painful, so when Emily hears you whimper and whine, she gives you a sympathetic look before speeding up her thrusts even more. Broken moans spew out your mouth as your grip on her arm tightens, leaving moon-shaped indents on her skin.
“Cum.”
That’s all it took for your back to arch further up and your muscles to start twitching. Your eyes clamp shut as if it would hurt to ever open them again. Once the pleasure washes over, Emily’s thrusts never stop. Your body tries to run away from her hand but she quickly holds your waist down, trapping you beneath her.
“Awe, you thought you were done? Baby, we’re just getting started.” She tuts, maneuvering her fingers inside you, thrusting harder in the spot where she hears you gasp loudly.
A tear begins to run down your face from being so sensitive, but the mix between the sting and bliss makes you want to keep going, also to make the girl above you happy.
“Right there.” You pant, feeling your orgasm approaching already. Looking down, you see the defender’s veins popping out of her arm, turning you on even more and causing the coil in your stomach to snap suddenly.
You didn’t even mean to. You felt it coming but didn’t expect it to happen so easily. As you come down from your second high of the night, you turn your head to the side, afraid to see a fuming look from the blonde. The feeling of her lips attaching to your neck makes you jump and twist your head sharply to look at her.
“Flip over for me, baby.” Her raspy voice thicker in lust, hand grabbing your side to help you move. You let out a shaky breath and do as said, flipping onto your stomach. “You’re not in trouble, you’re just going to give me one more.” She assures, sensing your nerves.
Nodding your head, you take a few deep breaths and wait for the girl’s instructions. Her hands rub up and down your body, while her lips trail kisses from your neck down to your lower back.
“You’re going to ride my fingers and cum as soon as you have to. I won’t stop you this time.”
Her intentions softening but only slightly. When your arms hold your body weight as you slide up and down her digits, your hips stop at the edge of her fingertips, slightly stopping the overstimulation. Emily figuring it out, her other hand grips her side and slams your body down for you. She smirks when she hears a squeal slip from your mouth, her free hand now clutching on your ass, guiding your movements.
One tear now turns into strips of them running down your face. Your body feels slightly numb, but the way your muscles clench tightly against Emily’s fingers, you figure out you’re about to cum. You cry out as your hips stutter, your orgasm finished.
Emily pulls her hand away and flips you over, kissing your temple, whispering that you did so good for her. You hum in delight as she scratches your back, your face nuzzling into her neck.
After a few minutes, she gets up to grab a glass of water for you and a rag to clean you all up. Once you’re done, you settle onto her chest while you both sit in comfortable silence, listening to each other’s breathing, but when Emily takes a deep breath, you know she’s going to say something.
“I was just wondering, would you like to eat me- I meant eat with me. Damn it. Go somewhere and have…food?” She stutters over her words, making you smile.
“Is Saucy Sonny asking me on a date?”
“Depends on your answer. If you say yes, then yes I am, if you say no, I’m asking you to go somewhere with me so we can talk about how you’re going to get crushed the next time we play against each other.” She teases, her nerves washing away from your soft smile.
“I’d love to go out with you. It would suck to make you feel like a loser two times in a day.” You smirk but soon shriek from Emily biting your ear.
You both start to have light-hearted conversations, almost like you’ve been together for years. Rivals to lovers seem unrealistic but maybe you’ll accept that it can happen.
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sporadicbeans82 · 1 month
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Used to Be || Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Reader
Part 2 || Part 3
Summary: You used to be in love with Mapi Leon. Maybe you still are, but now Mapi has a girlfriend... who is very, very pretty. Playing against Barcelona brings up old feelings that you're going to have to bury as you're about to transfer to Barcelona Femení.
Warnings: Maybe a swear word, brief mention of smut, it's a little bit angsty, unedited writing (done at 4am)
Word Count: 4.9k words
A/N: Hi lovelies-- I'm working on a request atm, but this came up and I got carried away. It may not make any sense and may be taken down, but could also be five parts... please let me know what you think :)
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The crowd roared as the players of Real Madrid and Barcelona Femení made their way onto the field to find their positions for kickoff. The noise within Estadio Alfredo Di Stefano was absolutely cacophonous, and downright overwhelming to anyone who wasn’t used to it. 
As you made your way to your position, you couldn’t help but glance up. Your eyes navigated across the stands, catching onto numerous waving flags, banners, and other collectibles and trinkets which represented either team. You also saw people wearing your jersey, which never failed to put a smile on your face, your chest alight with pride. 
The smile, however, disappeared as you caught sight of someone you’d expected to see but… not so soon. Before you knew it, your thoughts were caught in those of the past. Their familiar figure sent so many memories zipping wildly through your brain that, like the noise, it was nearly overwhelming.
You remembered sharing your pre-match rituals with them, sharing the same breakfast together, and a few kisses before the two of you would set off to your match. It was your routine together, the one which made you feel confident and safe before a match. 
When the two of you had separated, you also remembered how you’d struggled to find a new routine. Your entire life had been disrupted when you’d broken up with your girlfriend of two years in María Pilar León. Even now, close to seven years later, you still felt like a small piece was missing from your life… had been carved out of your chest and never quite sewed back together. 
Your chest burned, and you quickly turned away from the stands in favor of going through your pre-kickoff ritual. You side-stepped to your position, working at your hips and calves as you waited for everyone else to get ready.
You performed three high jumps, making sure to tuck your knees up into your chest– or as high as they could go. As you went through your usual movements, your nerves seemed to meld away with the familiarity of the routine, and with it– the thoughts of a certain Barcelona player watching from the stands. 
You’d been prepared to see Mapi, had seen her many times since you’d broken up– through matches played against each other at the international level, and then through matches played against each other at the club level. You’d seen pictures of her, too, with her partner, Ingrid Engen. Each time you saw Mapi, or Ingrid, you felt that same familiar burn in your chest.
Sometimes, that burning would become so much more, almost traveling up your throat and into your eyes, making you feel like you were choking on thoughts and memories of what used to be and what could have been. You felt like you could cry, years later, which was stupid. You’d been the one to break up with Mapi, not the other way around. You thought that you had no right to feel the way that you did, especially since it seemed that Mapi had been able to move on, while you were still stuck in the past. 
Someone nudged you, and you almost startled at the contact. One of your Real Madrid teammates, Hayley Raso, placed a hand on your shoulder. Her eyes held a certain amount of concern, almost silently asking you if you were alright.
You managed to give her a small nod, and Raso rubbed up the bare skin of your arm once and then twice before pulling away. It was a comforting gesture, one that reminded you that you weren’t alone in this match. You and Mapi hadn’t been mainstream news when you’d been together– sure, there were a few rumors which had floated around the internet back in the day. However, they’d all been pushed far from the spotlight.
Few people knew that you’d actually dated, and one of those included your teammates Raso and Misa Rodríguez. Throughout your years at Real, Misa had become a close friend of yours. In the deep hours of a night spent watching old football film and hyper analyzing your own team, you’d confided in the goalkeeper. She’d sensed that you were nervous about facing a certain Barcelona team within the next week and had asked you about it, and you’d told her– albeit nervously, as you were aware that they were international teammates. As far as you knew, Misa had kept your secret safely. 
Raso was an entirely different story, having taken you home when you were drunk after a win. You’d apparently let slip that you’d missed Mapi and cried into Raso’s arms. Thankfully, the Australian woman hadn’t considered you to be as pathetic as you’d felt, and you’d told her about it all. 
The fact that two of your teammates knew about your past with Mapi made you feel better about facing the team. It wasn’t as if you needed a shoulder to cry on– you were over it, really… but things still felt tense between you and Mapi. The two of you had never spoken after you’d broken up, save for the occasional quick congratulatory phrase at the end of a well-fought match. 
It was weird, almost– the way someone could go from the best and brightest thing in your life to a stranger. 
As Hayley made her way back to her position, you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes. You allowed yourself to take some calming breaths, closing your eyes and letting the loud crowd fade into the background as you tried to refocus once again. 
As the ref blew their whistle, you rocked forward and opened your eyes, nearly missing the ball which had already been kicked your way. You strode forward a few steps before being dispossessed, the ball being cleared to the other side of the field before you had a chance to try to win it back. As you glanced up, you were nearly breathless as you realized just who had so quickly dispossessed you.
Ingrid Engen was taller in person. And prettier. 
You couldn’t fault Mapi for being with her, not at all. From her long black hair which had been pulled back into an immaculate braid, to her light colored eyes– from the angle you were at, you couldn’t tell if they were green or blue, but you knew that they were gorgeous. You wondered, briefly, if Mapi ever got lost in them like you were right now-
A call of your name had you spinning, nearly stumbling over your own feet. You saw Hayley receiving the ball from another of your teammates, attempting to pass the football over to you. A Barcelona midfielder intercepted the pass, though, and sent it back over to the other side. 
You didn’t have to look at Hayley to know what her eyes were saying– get your head in the game!
The next time you received the ball, you were more prepared. As Ingrid came forward to challenge you, you tipped the ball behind yourself and turned away so that your back was to Ingrid. Then, you were dashing forward once again, eyes set upward towards the Barcelona goal and the only person who now stood in your way-
Your body was flying forward before you could even attempt to kick the ball. Engen had caught up, having been at your hip when you’d made to run away. She’d slide her legs in front of yours, catching the ball and sending it out for a corner kick. She’d also caught a piece of you, judging from the way that you’d sprawled out on your face.
You rolled over slowly, tucking your knees under you as you started to climb to your feet. A hand was held out to you, and you took it without checking who was offering it. As they helped pull you to your feet, you took in their blue and red jersey, which was very unlike your white one. 
Ingrid Engen gently patted your back, wiping some grass from your shoulder. Briefly, you wondered if her hands were this soft when she touched Mapi, too. They were large, and comforting, and warm against your skin– a harsh contrast to the breeze which had picked up as the game continued on. 
You wondered if Mapi touched her like she’d used to touch you, and if Ingrid touched Mapi as she was touching you at that moment. You knew that you had no right to think those thoughts, but your brain prattled on and on as if morales had gone out the window as soon as you’d set eyes on the defender in the crowd. 
Briefly, you remembered the first time you’d ever seen Mapi. It had been on your first day at Atletico Madrid in 2014, newly arrived from England. You didn’t know a lick of Spanish and had gotten lost on your way to the locker rooms. 
As you’d wandered aimlessly around the building, you’d quite literally run into some girl with blonde hair and pretty brown eyes. 
“Hola?” The girl had looked at you questioningly, confused by the way you stared wordlessly at her. You couldn’t help but admire the other girl, as if running straight into her wasn’t embarrassing enough. She was gorgeous, simply put, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to be her or… something else. 
“Hi– Hola?” You’d finally managed to get out. Your accent was thick, the Spanish word unfamiliar on your tongue. A sudden shyness had overcome you, the feeling akin to feeling like a fish out of water.
Mapi didn’t know a lick of English, and so the two of you had stared at each other awkwardly, waiting for the other to extend an olive branch of sorts. Finally, Mapi pointed to the Atletico badge on her chest.
“Aqui. Football?” Mapi mouthed the two words slowly, unsure how much you’d manage to understand. You felt stupid– what kind of person came to a Spanish football team without knowing how to speak Spanish? Still, you managed to catch what Mapi was saying and nodded quickly, almost eagerly.
“Yes1 Madrid!” You said, pointing to your own chest despite the fact that it didn’t have a badge on the shirt you were wearing. Thinking quickly, you attempted to mime kicking a football, to which Mapi pretended to kick the ball back to you, complete with over dramatic sound effects that put you at ease as you laughed at the other’s theatrics.
“Ok,” Mapi said, before making a “come on” gesture with her hand, one which was universal in most- if not all, languages. You followed the other, trying to at least introduce yourself. Mapi turned towards you as you said your name, pointing at yourself.
“Es hermosa. Soy Mapi.” Mapi responded. You only caught a little bit, enough to know that her name was Mapi. You stored that information in your brain before catching a hold of the other girls’ wrist. She turned towards you, momentarily stopping and giving you yet another questioning look. 
To this, you held out your hand. As Mapi went to clap her own against it in a high five.
“Nice to meet you!” You said, and Mapi smiled a little bit, nodding.
“Mucho gusto-” 
You blinked the rest of that memory away, refocusing on Ingrid. You didn’t bother thanking her, instead simply walking away before you did something that you knew you’d regret. The way in which Ingrid looked at you, brushing the grass off of you apologetically, had your stomach churning in a way that reminded you of how you felt before an important match. Except now, you didn’t think that sidestepping and jumping a few times would help dispel that feeling.
As you set up for the corner, you tried to ignore the way that Engen followed you, her eyes making sure you didn’t stray too far away so that she could mark you. You’d set up between two of your teammates, and as the ball was kicked in you ran forward, jumping and tapping your head up against the ball. You thrust your neck to the side, trying arduously to direct the ball into the net, but Cata Coll hopped up and grabbed the ball between her two gloved hands.
You rubbed the spot on your head that had hit the ball as you sprinted further out into the field as the ball was kicked to one of Barcelona’s center backs. Throughout the game, Ingrid continued to mark you at each corner, staying close to you. She’d almost become your shadow, and it was becoming extremely hard for you to concentrate when thoughts of how frustrated you were with Ingrid soon turned to how hot the Norwegian was as she anticipated your every move, or when she went head to head with you and wasn’t afraid to make a challenge. Thoughts like those inevitably led to Mapi, who you knew was in the stands, eyes on her girlfriend who was guarding her ex-girlfriend.
Ex-girlfriend. The term soured in your mind, one which you rarely had to actually apply to yourself– you remembered when you’d broken up with Mapi. 
You’d managed to catch a few days off at Arsenal, and had flown to Spain. You’d put this off for far too long now, and you were emotionally exhausted. So much had happened in your life since you’d transferred from Atletico Madrid to Arsenal, and since your girlfriend of two years, Mapi, had transferred to Barcelona. 
The two of you had tried to make the distance work. At first, you’d manage to call each other at least twice a week, and visit each other in person at least once a month, and sometimes more. You’d made an effort to go to Mapi’s games, and Mapi had made an effort to attend yours or, at the very least, watch them on television. 
After six months at Arsenal and six months of being apart, it had been almost four months since you’d seen the Spanish woman. You’d spoken to her a week ago, and had tried to call her a few times to let her know that you were coming to Spain, but your calls had gone unanswered.
You were upset, of course, feeling like you were being ignored. However, a larger part of you knew the truth– neither of you had time for the other at this point in your busy careers. The thought was painful, especially the first time that you’d realized it. The fact had been on your mind for the last few months, clutching and squeezing painfully around your chest in the darkest hours of the night, like a python around its prey. 
As you and Mapi had gone on and on, you couldn’t keep the feeling at bay any longer. You felt like you were dragging your relationship on for the sake of being afraid to end it. You loved Mapi, yes, but you felt like you were… baggage, like another box to check at the end of the day.
“Call your girlfriend” right next to “Feed the Cat” and “Do the Dishes”. 
You knew that that was how you felt about Mapi, at least. As if that weren’t enough, you felt ashamed about your relationship.
When you’d been in Barcelona, you hadn’t had to worry about what your parents would think about you dating a woman. Sure, you’d known that they would disapprove, as they’d always spoken negatively about “those types of people”. However, being in another country helped you keep Mapi as your secret. This secret was much harder to keep now that you were back under your parents’ clutches.
Mapi knew how your parents felt, which weighed heavily on your mind as well. You felt like it was too much for the girl, that you were too much for the girl. You didn’t want to speak to Mapi about it, for fear that the girl would dismiss her own feelings in favor of simply staying with you.
So, you’d made the decision alone.
You’d come to Mapi’s doorstep, a place that you’d only been once or twice since she’d moved there. Knocking a few times, you were greeted by your girlfriend, who looked confused by your appearance.
You’d done it then, giving Mapi a parting hug before you’d walked right back down her stairs. You had felt her gaze on your back, and had had to hold back your tears as you’d walked away and left the girl you loved behind.
You’d convinced yourself that it was for the better, had repeated that mantra as you’d paced away from her house. You’d essentially screamed it, in fact, when you’d stood in the mirror of the sketchy hotel room you’d rented for the night. 
You’d wanted to go back to Mapi so badly, to cry into her arms and let her wrap her arms around you. You wanted her to tell her that it was okay, and that everything would be okay. You wanted her to tell you that the two of you could and would work, that you would try harder to talk and to visit and to love each other.
But you’d given up the right to ask for Mapi’s comfort the second you’d broken up with her. The shattered, dazed look in her pretty brown eyes had cut into you like a dagger, and served to haunt you for the next year whenever you thought of the girl.
You feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, their touch somewhat familiar from how often you’d felt them throughout the match. By now, your team was trailing Barcelona 1-3, which certainly didn’t help your quickly-souring mood.
From behind you, you heard Ingrid speak. Her voice was calm and collected, despite having played nearly 80 minutes of football. It was deeper than you’d expected too– not that it was super deep, it was just… it was nice, you mentally admitted to yourself. Calming and soothing like her touch, almost like Mapi’s but more relaxing and cool where Mapi’s was comforting and warm.
As if you weren’t torturing yourself enough, you wondered if Ingrid had used those hands and arms to comfort Mapi. You wondered if Mapi had run to Ingrid when you’d broken up with her, had been hugged and held in the way that you had so badly yearned for when you’d left her. Realistically, you knew that Ingrid hadn’t even known Mapi then, and so your thoughts trailed further. 
“-okay…?” 
“Huh?” You mumbled, glancing back towards Engen whilst trying to keep your eyes downfield. 
“I asked, are you okay?” Ingrid repeated.
“Yes. Stop touching me.” You couldn’t help it, your tone biting and harsh. Immediately, Ingrid’s hands fell from your shoulders. Internally, you screamed for her touch again– it had been a very, very long time since you’d allowed yourself to be touched or held, and you supposed you were probably touch-starved at this point. Even still, you knew that you had no right to seek comfort in your ex-girlfriends’ current girlfriend, no matter how badly you yearned for it. 
Maybe, once you moved from Real Madrid to Barcelona, you could get a cat. You’d heard that they could give good hugs. 
Ingrid didn’t say anything, but throughout the match she kept her hands off of you. That is, until one of the last minutes in injury time. You’re surprised that you’re still in the match, given how badly your team is losing and that you’ve not done much for most of the match. 
Ingrid had done well to silence any attempts or moves you’d made, and between the players in midfield and the center backs, you’d been muffled incredibly well throughout the match. 
You knew that you had nothing left to lose by this point, and so as one of your midfielders received the ball, you called out for it and began your run.
The pass was gorgeous, rolling up through your feet and right in front of you. Indrid in front of you began to backpedal, twisting her hips so that she could gain enough momentum to keep up with your run while keeping her eyes on you. 
You attempted to flick the ball ahead of her as you caught up to the Norwegian, just as Ingrid stuck out her foot. With the ball ahead of you, Ingrid clipped the side of your foot with her own instead, and you cried out in pain as you were sent sprawling once more.
It was a clear foul, and pain radiated throughout your ankle as you rolled onto your back. You didn’t think that it was too serious of an injury, but it still smarted and made its presence known. You didn’t expect for Ingrid to crouch down next to you, hand hovering over your shoulder as she went to pat your back but seemed to remember your earlier rudeness. 
“Are you okay?” Ingrid asked, and you turned to glare at her.
“No, the fuck was that about, Engen. You could have broken my ankle.” Your words, like earlier, were harsh and immature. They were flat and scathing, meant to harm and dig deep into Ingrid’s chest.
A part of you hoped she’d fight back and give you a taste of her own scathing words as you’d been doing to her the entire game. Instead, she took a deep breath and shook her head.
“I certainly did not mean to do so, are you alright?” She asked again. Her words were calm and cool, just like her touch, serving almost like ice water to the flaming hot rage you felt.
You froze, before nodding slowly. You’d anticipated a verbal fight, had hoped for one, but Ingrid had given you nothing to work with. As you agreed, she held out her hand for you to take once again, and you stared at it for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your teammates making their ways over and your captain talking to the ref, attempting to appeal for what you figured was a yellow card or a penalty kick. 
You hesitated, only for a moment. The girl in front of you was an anomaly and you couldn’t, for the life of you, understand her.
It was attractive. The way that she defended was attractive, and the way that she kept a calm and level head was doubly as attractive. You battled the thoughts away as soon as they arrived, but they were already in your mind, spreading through your thoughts like the plague as you reached out and took the girls’ hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet once more.
She filled your thoughts for the rest of the game, right up until the referee whistled three times to signal the end of the match. The Barcelona players went to celebrate while you trekked over to your own teammates.
Some of them gave you comments about how good you performed, which you were surprised about. You hadn’t done much for most of the match, but you supposed that you’d done well against defenders of Ingrid’s caliber and had given a few good attempts on goal. 
You praised each of your teammates in turn as well, before someone had wrapped their arms around your middle and lifted you up from behind.
“Muy bien chica bonita!” You heard someone call out, and you were familiar with them and the way they held you and spoke. You giggled.
“Gracias Misa.” You said, waiting for her to plop you back down to the ground before giving her a quick fist bump. The girl looked you up and down, as though to make sure you weren’t hurt. 
“You are ok?” Misa asked, voice rising towards the end of the statement to make it into a question. You nodded.
“Sí. Estoy bien.” You responded, nodding to affirm your own statement. Misa seemed satisfied for the moment, reaching out to pat your back before she was off to converse with more of your teammates. You knew that the nosy girl would be asking for details about what had been going on with you and Ingrid, but for now the girl would just have to wonder. 
As you turned away from the Real Madrid goalkeeper, you were met with the sight of Mapi and Ingrid. The two were talking quietly with each other, and you were stunned by the image of them both together. Ingrid now wore a puffy Barcelona team jacket, reminding you of the fact that you were cold.
Mapi wore a pair of black trousers with a pair of casual tennis shoes and a white jacket. It was a simple outfit, but you couldn’t help but think the girl looked absolutely gorgeous. Your heart throbbed, unable to keep the thoughts of both girls out of your mind.
You were just about to turn your back on them, too, when Ingrid caught your eye and gestured with her hand for you to come over to them. You froze, hesitant to do as she was motioning for you to do, but slowly made your way over anyway.
Mapi looked at you curiously. Once upon a time, you would have been able to read her facial expressions like a book. Now, however, you were unable to tell what she was feeling. She appeared guarded, but her lips and eyes, which were normally so expressive, gave nothing away.
Unlike her partner, Ingrid smiled warmly at you. It was the kind of smile that you couldn’t help but smile back at, and Ingrid stuck her hand out for you to take and shake. 
“Congratulations, you played really well.” You were the first to speak, directing your sentence towards Ingrid. 
Ingrid nodded, “You played well too.” 
“Thank you…” Your voice trailed off as you were at a loss for what to say. Your mind was at odds with itself, as a part of you wanted to ask how Mapi was doing, while another part wanted to intertwine your fingers with Ingrid’s and never let go. You were so confused and conflicted, your heart and mind working overtime as you struggled to figure out where to go from there. 
Ingrid seemed to realize that you were struggling and made up for it.
“I’m excited to play with you and not against you!” She said, and you swallowed nervously, your smile tentative, now.
You’d nearly forgotten about that. 
You were set to join Barcelona within the week, having played your last game with Real Madrid. You were sad to see it go, but you were beyond excited to join the team of your childhood dreams. 
Even still, you were terrified of joining the team which housed your ex-girlfriend and her current relationship, and your eyes strayed from Ingrid to Mapi and back again at the thought. 
“I’m excited too-” You said pathetically, and you were saved from saying any more as you heard someone from your own team call your name. You gestured awkwardly behind you, towards the voice, and began to walk backwards as you waved at the two. “I’ll see you later!”
You blushed as you turned away, mentally chastising yourself for the lame way you’d managed to say goodbye.
-----
Later that day, as you spent one of your last nights in the apartment you’d lived in for four years since joining Real Madrid, you couldn’t help but allow your thoughts to stray back to Ingrid and Mapi.
You wondered what they were doing– were they holding each other and watching a movie, like you and Mapi used to do after a match when you’d used to play together? Or, perhaps, they were out dancing with each other, celebrating the win against their rivals at a club somewhere.
A part of your mind fought to imagine the sight of the two grinding up against each other, and while you were quick to turn away from the thought, you could still imagine Ingrid’s large hand cupping Mapi’s hip and directing her movements as Ingrid whispered in her ear-
What was happening to you? 
You swallowed nervously, sitting down on your couch. Your elbows sat propped on your knees as you gazed straight ahead at the wall,
You were, simply said, conflicted.
The way you had felt today had been a feeling that you’d buried a long time ago, one that had been reserved for Mapi and nobody else. However, the way Ingrid had looked at you and had talked at you, and the way she’d calmly patted you or helped you– the feelings had resurfaced.
You tried not to think about what that meant. You knew what it meant, and you knew that you couldn’t feel that way– not now and not ever. 
If you wanted to succeed at Barcelona and to keep your heart safe, you had to bury these feelings once more.
And so you did– mentally, you threw those thoughts into a cage and locked them up tight. You promised yourself that you would stop feeling like this towards your ex-girlfriend and her current girlfriend. No matter what, you would stop. 
It was a promise you made to yourself.
A promise that you knew you would break.
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so-so-woso · 6 months
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i wanna be the one | part 1
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Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.
Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol
Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.
Word Count: 3,284
London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.
Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.
You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.
It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.
You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.
That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.
“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.
You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.
“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.
“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.
“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”
“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”
You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.
Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.
The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.
By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“
“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”
A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”
“Four.”
“Two.”
“Three?”
“Two, McCabe.”
“Two and shots?”
“…”
“Two…and shots?”
“…one shot.”
“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”
A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.
“You always this quiet?”
You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.
“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”
You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.
“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”
That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.
“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.
The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.
“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.
“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”
You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.
“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.
“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”
“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”
Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.
You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.
Yep. You fucked up.
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sebscore · 1 year
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Hey I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, I’m so sorry if you’re not! but do you think you’d be able to do a gig with the Leclerc brothers where their sister maybe plays a sport and she gets Injured very badly and how they’d like comfort her! I’m sorry if it’s too much! Love your works! Don’t forget to take a break!
THAT IS REALLY EMBARRASSING
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pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader / charlotte siné x leclerc!reader 
warnings: injury. unaccurate medical advice. swearing. the sport wasn't specified so I choose tennis, i'm sorry if you don't like that (but I do and if there are more tennis fans pls be my friend, I dont have any tennis friends). 
author's note: another Little Leclerc chapter after a long time! hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this fic! thank you so much for loving my works and I hope you have a great day!! 
masterlist
• • • • • • •
Similarly to her older brothers, the youngest Leclerc enjoyed passions of her own, but instead of a steering wheel, she thrived with a tennis racquet in her hand. 
She started playing at quite a young age, but her time was cut short due to her family's financial situation where they could only support one child's hobby- that being Charles' racing career. It had upset both her and Arthur, but it was an understandable decision. 
Once Charles started making his own money, the two youngest siblings slipped back into their own passions. It had been hard on the young girl at first as all the girls her age were much more advanced and she almost had to start back from scratch. However, she pulled through and began to compete against other players around the area. She wasn't the new Sharapova by any chance, but she had won several local junior tournaments and was seen as quite a big competitor in Monaco. 
Y/N had to prove that at the Monte-Carlo Country Club Junior Tournament, arguably the biggest junior competition in the country. Many girls and boys from different nationalities participated in the event, and it spanned over 2 weeks. 
Little Leclerc had never been able to win the tournament before, her best result being from the previous year when she was stranded in the semi-finals. Y/N had had a good tennis year and was one of the favourites to win her category at the prestigious competition. 
Y/N had seamlessly made it into the quarterfinals, having won all her previous matches in straight sets. Her mother had been present at every single match, not wanting to miss one second of her daughter's play and loving the attention the youngest was receiving. 
Lorenzo, Charles and Charlotte joined her at the girl's latest match, having missed most of them due to work. The brothers were glad they could finally watch her play after such a long time of not being able to attend her tournaments. 
''It's weird seeing her so serious.'' Charles mumbled as they waited for her to do her first serve, her focused face being one he didn't get to see often. 
Lorenzo chuckled. ''I know, she's always clowning around.'' He responded, shutting up as soon as his sister tossed the ball into the air. 
The serve was too fast for her opponent to return, resulting in an ace for Y/N and another game won- the score now 5-1 for Leclerc. She received an applause, the clapping of her family standing out and giving them a timid smile. 
She was on her way to win the first set, but not everything always goes as planned. Her opponent hit the ball to the opposite side of where Y/N was standing, the young girl having to make a long run to return the ball. Because it was a grass court, the players have to wear special shoes, but they often stick to the ground making it harder to run very fast. Her right foot became stuck to the court so Y/N had to put all her weight on it, causing a twist to happen as she chased the ball. She fell to the ground, clamping to her right ankle. 
Pascale immediately stood up from her seat, her heart dropping to her stomach as she saw her daughter go down on the court. Lorenzo processed the moment for a few seconds before standing up as well, and Charles and Charlotte stayed seated, the woman's hands covering her face in shock. 
They watched the umpire climb down from his high chair and approach her, crouching down next to Y/N and asking her if she's okay. ''My ankle hurts a lot.'' She answered him, holding back tears. 
''You want to continue playing?'' The man already knew the answer would be no, but he was mandated to ask her. 
Y/N shook her head. ''No, I think I need a medic or something.'' 
The umpire nodded his head at her words and pulled out his walkie talkie, calling for a medic to enter the court. He received an answer on the other side and turned back to her. ''Can you walk, Y/N?'' 
The young girl tried putting pressure on her ankle, but a throbbing pain shot through her foot and she yelped. ''No, I can't.'' 
''Get a wheelchair as well, she can't walk properly.'' He spoke into the device, receiving a short 'understood' from the other side of the walkie talkie. 
Y/N could see the concerned looks on her family's faces, giving them a thumbs up to ease their worries. Her mother let out a deep sigh, relieved her daughter seemed at least okay on the surface. 
Eventually, two medics arrived with one of them holding the wheelchair in their hand. They unfolded it and carefully helped the girl get up from the ground. They sat her down in the chair and rolled her off the court while the audience gave her an applause, showing their appreciation for the match and her hard work. 
The Leclerc Family made their way towards the inside of the stadium, wanting to get to their youngest as soon as possible. ''It looked like it hurt a lot, did you see it twisting?'' Charlotte said, the moment replaying in her head. 
''Yeah, and she was trying so hard not to cry, I could just see it.'' Charles responded, holding onto his girlfriend's hand for some sort of support. 
''Maman, the medical center is there!'' Lorenzo redirected his mother as she almost went into the wrong hallway. Pascale quickly turned the right way, running on her motherly instincts. 
She knocked on the door, opening it before being given permission to actually enter the room. ''Oh, look at you.'' Y/N was laying down on the doctor's table, her ankle being inspected by one of the medics. 
Pascale embraced her as well as she could while her daughter laid down, caressing her face. ''Does it hurt a lot?'' She glanced at the ankle, seeing it already swelled up. 
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''It only hurts when I move it or stand on it.'' She answered, tears escaping her eyes. 
''Don't cry, Chérie! You're so strong, you're a brave girl.'' Her mother tried comforting her, wiping the tears away and kissing her cheek. 
The medic scratched their voice, gathering everyone's attention. ''It's 100% not broken, but it is sprained,'' they explained, ''I'm gonna tape it and then you're free to leave, but I advice you rest your ankle for the next week and don't strain it too much, cause then you'll have to go to the hospital.'' They finished off, grabbing the support tape from one of the cabinets. 
''Okay, thank you.'' Lorenzo weakly smiled, grabbing a chair and setting himself down next to the table. 
''I was doing so well and then of course I have to fall.'' Y/N exclaimed, radiating frustration. 
Her oldest brother grabbed her hand. ''It can happen to anyone, even the big players fall and get injured.'' 
''But it's embarrassing falling in front of that many people- I wanted to die right then and there.'' His sister argued, her hands covering her face as if she was reliving the moment. 
Pascale chuckled at her daughter's dramatics. ''There are worse things to be embarrassed about, Chérie.'' 
''Yes,'' Charlotte spoke up, ''remember when I had to make a Twitch account so he would open the door for me? Way more embarrassing.'' She said, gathering laughs from everyone. 
''Or when Charles wore that banana costume on a livestream!'' Lorenzo added. 
''And Arthur with his 18-hour screen time? You've got nothing to worry about.'' Charles chimed in, directing the focus to Arthur's embarrassing moments. 
Y/N's tears had stopped and laughed along with her family, appreciating their attempt at cheering her up and making her feel better about her fall. ''Ooh~ she's smiling again.'' Charles poked at her dimple, a giggle escaping her mouth because of it. 
''Remember when Charles-''
''She gets it, Enzo!'' 
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taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel
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17020 · 20 days
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☆ AFTERMATH.
Reo Mikage faces the aftermath of his actions, and his ex-girlfriend (?) tries to move on. Part two of "ONE." Warnings: Reo Mikage, swearing, violence, fake everything!!! 3.6k angst to fluff to angst(???), both platonic and romantic relationships here, pro! post! bllk boys, no beta because how. this is too long.
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REO MIKAGE was an absolute mess.
His mind was of no help, either. The image of you and Seishiro at the club was on his mind, replaying constantly like a broken record. The minute he stepped outside, he met with his white-haired best friend, who received him with open arms.
"I'm so sorry she did that" he apologized, "it's better that she did this now rather than later. Plenty of fish in the sea."
Many tears (and many drinks inside Seishiro's apartment) later, Reo Mikage had been consumed by delusion. The more words that came off his best friend's mouth, the more determined he had become. Because yes, his best friend was right: there were plenty of fish in the sea, and instead of drowning in his own sea of tears, he should swim and see what he can find.
"And what you can find, is, a golden crown with two lions at its sides."
It was a gamble, sure. To distract his broken-hearted best friend with their upcoming matches and championships could earn him an earful, but it was their job after all. Reo surprisingly took it well, and made it his goal to stick to football, as relationships were a hassle. The Premier League was slowly coming to an end, and Champions League just reached quarterfinals. Football was forever. Besides, according to Seishiro, "trophies can't cheat on you, now, can they?"
Delusion had struck him unlike ever before. Reo Mikage was a like a sponge cake, soaking up his best friend's poisonous, yet effective advice. He became a monster, letting his frustrations out on every training session. Reo overworked himself, to the point where he barely had any rest, and it showed.
Draws, losses, yellow and red colored cards raised. Reo Mikage had reached a new (professional) low. A match against Luton was scheduled to take place in a few days, and what came next came as a shock to no one, except for Reo and his loyal companion.
Reo Mikage was to be benched for the next few matches of the season.
The issue with the sponge cake of Reo Mikage was, that he was undercooked. Rising to the very top, then completely deflating after cooling. A hard exterior with a liquid interior, yet to solidify. What seemed like his peak to him, was an all-time low for his peers.
The match against Crystal Palace ended with him earning a red card, after a display of violent conduct against another player. The locker room was like entering a colosseum, as everyone from Manshine City watched Reo Mikage receive lecture after lecture. The last lecture, though, stood out to him.
"As soon as you stepped into this stadium you should've left your home life behind, because you're here to play ball, not with women's feelings. Don't know why you're the one sulking, if you're the one who caused hurt."
Gasps and 'oohs' were barely heard as the everyone in the locker room suddenly quieted down. Reo's eye twitched.
"Say that again."
The man in front of him sighed. "As soon as you stepped into this stadium you should've left your—"
Before he could finish his sentence, his head hit the metal behind him, and a streak of blood ran down his nostril. Reo Mikage had swung at the man in front of him, pushing him towards his locker. "Not sure why you're called a panther when you're so fucking slow."
The man tried to maintain his composure, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood off his nose. "Not sure why you treated Yn like shit, she didn't even cheat."
"What do you know?"
"I know your piece of shit lackey lied to you" the man facing Reo retorted, raising his voice. "I sat in the booth in front of them, Nagi was the one to grab her hand. You should really use glasses you blind bitch."
Reo's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise. He was speechless, turning to his best friend and awaiting his response. In return, Seishiro averted his gaze with a sour expression on his face. It was a no brainer. It was the face of a guilty man.
"It's not true, right? Seishiro?"
Silence.
"Nagi it's not true, though, right? Slowpoke's just talking out of his ass, right?"
Absolute. Deafening. Silence.
"Look, I did you a favor" he spoke up, finally daring to look at his best friend in the eye. "She was a parasite that made you sloppy."
He was shocked, with no words able to come out of his mouth. The persona he had built for the past few weeks came crumbling down before all his peers as he realized what he had done. He was an asshole, and had been led astray by toxicity.
Reo Mikage collapsed.
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Prior to getting punched in the face, CHIGIRI HYOMA had spent every minute of his time by your side.
After Reo had left on that fateful night, Chigiri offered a warm, tight embrace, as well as a late night-drive to your apartment, with a quick stop at the nearest convenience store. He was certain you were going to need comfort, and after accidentally watching the whole debacle, it was the least he could do.
You woke up the next morning, seemingly confused as to how you managed to get yourself home. Last night had been a blur, both mentally and physically; your teary-eyed vision was not of any help. Turning to your nightstand, you were stunned.
A gift basket.
It was made up of essentials. Pills (for the raging headache after a hectic night out, and also for your liver), a face mask and eye patches (for the puffiness after crying), cold medication (because crying can lead to a small, yet annoying cold), and electrolytes to help restore your body. It was also, strangely enough, made up of your favorites. Favorite snacks (both salty and sweet), favorite beverage, and favorite... flowers. With a note. Flowers? From who?
'Hope you feel better :)'
Slowly (and carefully), you got up from your bed, sliding your feet into your slippers and heading out towards your kitchen. What caught you off guard, was, the fact that a red-haired Manshine City player sat comfortably on your couch, turning his head your way.
"Morning, Yn. How'd you sleep? You like the basket I left there for you?"
"Respectfully, Chigiri, how the hell did you get in here?"
He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "I guess you don't remember, but I dropped you off after last night to make sure you got home safe. You gave me your keys and told me to come back in the morning."
So, you were that drunk.
Before you could even apologize, the doorbell rang. Chigiri stood up from your couch, making his way towards the door and opening it, only to reveal a delivery guy with a few boxes in his hands. Chigiri received the boxes, handing the guy some bills. He turned around and pushed the door closed with his back, walking towards your dinner table and setting the boxes there.
"I got us some toast and smoothies. You need to replenish your body with sodium and carbs after a night out, y'know?"
It was nice, you had to admit. To be taken care of after such a horrific night was precisely what you needed. It was a safe space which you clearly needed: the breakfast was delicious, and Chigiri's company was comforting. It was therapeutic, with you telling him how you felt and letting a few tears slip, and him listening to every word while using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe your tears away.
It was so nice, in fact, that you had not realized that the breakfast turned into a twelve hour hang out, which later turned to weekly hangouts, which later became 'let's just let Chigiri move in and basically become my roommate' hang-outs.
He was the company you never knew you needed, a breath of fresh air, if you will. Every day off he had meant a new activity for you two to try out, a new adventure, and a new fond memory. From painting mugs, to visiting zoos and aquariums, baking, a walk in the park—you name it, you and Chigiri had done it all.
It was hard not to notice the lingering touches, the lost puppy eyes, excuses to be near each other. It was bound to happen. For the past few months, he had been by your side, helping you heal and holding your hand on each step of the way. You wondered if he felt forced to do so, or if he genuinely cared. His actions seemed to insinuate that he did, but there was a sprinkle of doubt on your mind. You guessed you had Reo to blame for that.
It was too soon. Besides, there was the possibility he did this out of friendship, not out of love. Nonetheless, you were certain of one thing: Hyoma Chigiri had become your safe space.
The day of the altercation, Hyoma made sure to stop by his place to clean up his nose before going to yours. He did not want for you to find out, because it really was not relevant, as it could set back your progress towards healing completely.
As he stepped onto the elevator of your apartment complex, he pressed the button of your floor. He felt his phone buzz, and as he pulled it out from his pocket, he read it was a message from Reo.
Mikage I'm sorry. I didn't know the truth about everything, and I'm sorry I punched you.
Hyoma sighed.
Chigiri Say sorry to Yn, not me. (xxx)-(xxx)-(xxxx) That's my therapist. Clearly you need her more than I do. Don't even think of apologizing until you've changed. She doesn't need to deal with your shit right now.
The elevator's doors opened, and he stepped up to your door. With a few knocks, the door opened to reveal a happy you. A better you, that had a giddy smile on her face, instead of her lips curled downwards with tears running down her cheeks. A healed you, that was ready to take on the world, as her eyes gleamed with life.
"Are you ready, Hyo?"
He nodded as he took your hand in his, stepping back inside the elevator with you, going down towards the parking. After the match against Crystal Palace (and its gruesome aftermath), you offered to treat him to some sweets at a coffee shop you both liked.
As you and him arrived at the coffee shop, his phone began to buzz like crazy. His phone began to heat up from the amount of text messages he was receiving. He opened them, only to realize that he was in trouble. The first message he opened was a link from Isagi, which was a tweet leading to a news article.
Isagi "CHIGIRI HYOMA PUNCHED IN THE FACE BY MIKAGE REO IN LOCKER ROOM ALTERCATION. The red panther received a punch after winning 4-2 against Crystal Palace. A thread." This true?
Bachira WELL DID YOU FIGHT BACK?? DO WE NEED TO BOOK A FLIGHT???
Isagi More importantly, does Yn know?
He quickly turned his phone off as he held the door open for you, guiding you to a secluded table at the back of the shop. It was for privacy, because Hyoma Chigiri was one of England's most popular players after all.
It was not unusual for you and him to receive so many weird stares. Especially with the disguises you had on.
It was tradition, and it was something you did even with Mikage. In order to avoid crazy fans or paparazzi, you opted for stupid disguises, like sunglasses, hoodies, sun hats, caps, and more. This time was no different, with Hyoma having his hair tied into a bun, wearing a gray hoodie and a pair of polarized wraparound sunglasses. You, instead, opted for a cap and cateye sheer sunglasses.
The staring felt... somewhat strange. People from the coffee shop already knew you and Hyoma since you frequented the shop, but this time, their gazes lingered a bit longer than last time.
"Umm... Hyo... why's everyone staring at you?" you questioned, genuinely concerned as to why everyone stared at the man in front of you.
"Probably has to do with the fact that I screwed up in our match against Luton" he shrugged, feigning indifference.
Hyoma was glad that you had decided to block both your name and Reo's on your social media tags. It was done for obvious reasons, of course. The mere thought of Reo Mikage would have made your soul leave your body (in a bad way), so you opted to block both of your names to avoid gossip and the media trying to decipher your breakup.
This meant, of course, that only Hyoma and the rest of the world could see the tweets, the paparazzi pictures of you two, the speculation, the blind items of 'trusted sources' (which were garbage), and the overall buzz on what was deemed 'football's biggest love heist'. In the public eye, Hyoma Chigiri was a home-wrecker. A home-wrecker that fell HARD for his teammates ex-girlfriend. A total simp.
Unbeknownst to you, a certain red-head had his eye on you for some time. To him, you had been off-limits. Before, he felt utmost respect for Reo, so there was no breaking 'bro-code' when Reo told him and Seishiro that he was starting to fall in love with you. More importantly, he knew that, as long as you were happy, he was happy, even if it was with someone else. Naturally, that initial attraction faded over time, settling to admire you as a friend instead.
Hyoma internally cursed as he realized that maybe it did not fade completely, and that maybe, just maybe, he had been given a second chance. There was no more 'bro-code', seeing as him and his 'bro' had fallen out, and he already was a home-wrecker to the media, so there really was nothing to lose in regards to reputation.
What Hyoma Chigiri was afraid of losing was you.
He feared that if he were to confess, the beautiful 'whatever-it-was' that you two had (because he knew for a fact this was not a friendship) might end due to his feelings being overwhelming for you. If anyone was to make the first move, it had to be you.
And Hyoma was so glad you did.
After the coffee shop, he drove you back to your place. Hyoma offered to order takeout as a way to thank you for the coffee shop snacks. It was getting late, and as per usual, he was going to spend the night. The couch was all set up and ready for him. It had his blanket and his favorite pillow, along with a stuffed animal (a panther) which you had gotten for him at the zoo. He was about to lay down, when your voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Hyo... can you sleep in my room tonight?"
He spared no time in following you to your room, with his blanket and pillow in hand. As you climbed onto your bed, he set the pillow and blanket on the floor. You laughed as you shook your head, patting the spot on your bed next to you. "I meant up here, with me."
Carefully (and while trying to maintain his cool), Hyoma climbed up to the spot next to you. You scooched over to his side, placing your head on his chest and your arms wrapped around his torso. Feeling him tense up, you slowly loosened your grip.
"I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to do that, Hyo. I'm so sorry."
His arms were now on top of yours, readjusting them, thus tightening your grip. He bent down to leave a kiss on your forehead, reassuring you that it was more than okay for you to do so. A content sigh escaped your lips. "I like this" you smiled, "I like us."
"I like us too, princess."
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It had been a year since you last saw Mikage.
It had also been around six months since the wish Hyoma Chigiri pushed away for so long had, at last, come to fruition, with him honored to be given the opportunity to call you his girlfriend.
The relationship was kept private. It was as if an unspoken agreement had been settled, with yours and Hyoma's friends not daring to ask about the status of your relationship, or if you had finally settled on a label other than 'just friends.' Aside from the usual photos taken by fans or paparazzi on the street, there were no public appearances or statements to clear things up.
Until the end-of-season party.
The end-of-season parties were hosted by each club once the season is finalized, usually sending out special guest invites to players from other clubs, or even having joint celebrations with them. Manshine City sent their invites, reaching former members of Blue Lock, and even providing each guest with a plus one.
There was no doubt on Hyoma's mind. It was time to go public.
It did not take long for you to be convinced to attend, seeing as this would be you and Hyoma's debut as an official couple. Media involvement was at an all-time high, seeing as there was a rise in popularity for Manshine ever since the 'internal conflicts' between players were shown to the public.
As you got ready for Manshine's end-of season party, you noticed a medium sized velvety box on your vanity. Curious, you opened it, revealing a beautiful necklace, at the center being a pendant in the shape of an initial. Your initial. As you took it out of the box, you heard your boyfriend's footsteps as he walked into your room.
"Hope you like it. Your name is lovely, so own it."
He took the necklace from your hands, swiftly placing it on your neck. Your phone began to ring, the caller ID reading Isagi's name. He had called to let you know he and Bachira were parked outside the apartment, waiting for you and Hyoma. Seeing as they ended up in Champions League quarterfinals and decided to stick around for a while in London, it was no surprise they got guest invites to Manshine's party. This meant carpooling was mandatory.
The party was flooded with journalists.
It was to be expected, of course. As players arrived, journalists approached them as if on queue, each one had a camera and a microphone on hand, as they were expected to cover the whole event.
So it was no surprise when you and Hyoma got approached by a journalist, hoping to ask your boyfriend a few questions about his thoughts on the season, as well as to congratulate him on his performance. The journalist asked Hyoma who was 'the gorgeous woman who stood at his side', to which he proudly smiled, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
"She's the love of my life."
After a cordial 'congratulations' and a few pictures (which were definitely going to trend on the internet for weeks), you excused yourself as you walked towards Isagi and Bachira, wanting Hyoma to have a one-on-one with the journalist. You were about to approach them, only to be stopped by a tap on your shoulder. You turned around, your eyes widening in astonishment.
"Hi."
"Oh... umm... hi Mikage."
'This is going to be one hell of a night' you thought, unsure of how the hell Reo Mikage had the balls to actually strike up a conversation. His gaze lowered from your eyes to your chest, fixated on the sparky initial which hung on the shiny, silver chain.
"Uhh... nice necklace."
"Thank you."
"I'm sorry."
Flabbergasted, you raised your eyebrows. He sighed as his gaze was now focused on the ground, as he was unable to look you in the eye. You could tell he was beyond nervous, as he fidgeted with the sleeves of his suit.
"I'm really sorry, Yn. I let my emotions get the better of me, and more importantly, I didn't trust you. I'm sorry that I didn't hear your side of things and just broke things off like that. I've been to therapy since then, and I thought now was the right time to apologize."
You stood there utterly dumbfounded, unsure of how to react. One one hand, it felt soothing to know your ex-boyfriend finally worked on himself, but even then, his actions still cut you deeply, and a part of you wished he never showed his face again. Even with mixed feelings, the corners of your lips raised to form a smile.
"It's okay, Mikage. Let's leave that in the past, okay?"
Sure, Mikage was the one who left you hurting, feeling like you were stuck at the bottom of a well with no one left to hear your pleas. He was the one to destroy you completely, after not caring enough to know your side or even listen to what you had to say. But if there was one thing you learned with Hyoma, it was that, to be at peace with yourself, sometimes it was better to forgive.
Mikage's eyes glimmered as tears threatened to trickle down his face, a smile growing on his face. Slowly, his hand reached for yours.
"Do you think we can... you know... give us another..."
You wasted no time in pulling back your hand.
"I hope you find true joy, Mikage, I really do. I just hope I never get to hear about it."
He slowly inhaled, letting out a shaky breath. You felt a strong arm wrap itself around your waist, and as you looked to your side, there was your boyfriend, Hyoma.
"Everything okay here?"
Mikage's eyes met with the redhead's.
"No—yeah—I was just leaving" he stuttered, "seems like you've got it from here."
"Don't you worry, yeah? I got her now."
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