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earthtooz · 9 months

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x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone.

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times.

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut.

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon.

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine.

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin.

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence.

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you.

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time.

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?”

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension.

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice.

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too.

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates.

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.”

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out.

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home.

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows.

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot.

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption.

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful.

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept.

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead.

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’.

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence.

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it.

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?”

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?”

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?”

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs.

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant.

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?”

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!”

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you.

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?”

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left.

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily.

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it.

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.”

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart.

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him.

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch.

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?”

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much?

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion.

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life,

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.”

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly.

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination.

tears dance along his lashline.

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination.

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me.

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin.

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this.

you cave. “how will you fix us?”

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will.

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation.

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times.

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his.

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you.

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin x gn!reader #I HATE THIS SO MUCH

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ada7201 · 4 months

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what do the blue lock boys do for you on valentine’s day?（╹◡╹）♡

Shidou, Rin, Sae, Kaiser x reader (seperate)

→ part 1 ⭢ part 2 ⭢ part 3 on the way!

gn! reader, google translated German for Kaiser’s part

don’t forget to suggest me things if you have any ideas! happy early valentine’s day (๑>◡<๑)

Shidou Ryusei

he gets you a TON of sweets (which he eats half of)

Sae once told him that love letters were a common thing for valentine’s day, so he tried to make you one.

it was a piece of paper, which was poorly folded and drowned pink glitter glue. he used scented gel pens to write a few “i love you’s” and smiley faces… it’s the thought that counts?

wrapped a ribbon around his neck and called himself your valentine’s gift.

decided it would be fun to wear your lipstick and kiss your cheeks - staining your skin with kiss marks

for lunch, he brought you to the park where you both played around, and afterwards sat down somewhere on the playground and munched on sweets (of your choice!)

the two of you watched those romance dramas together in the evening and fell asleep on an episode you weren’t paying attention to

“come on sweets, it’ll be fun!” Shidou whined, clinging onto your arm like a monkey, smushing his cheek against your shoulder as he pouted. why wouldn’t you let him do your makeup? “im great at makeup! you know that! i’ll do a special valentine’s day theme〜”

“Shidou- no!” you groaned, attempting to pry the taller man off of your arm. “you will not do my makeup, and that’s final!”

“fine…” Shidou sighed dramatically, letting go of you and falling to the floor in a pathetic manner. “guess you just hate me… and you’d even do this on valentine’s day?”

you huffed. he could be such a pain sometimes…

“alright, you can do my-“ your voice was cut off by Shidou’s big hand on your lips, a grin on his face.

“no need to talk more, bae - let’s get started…” he’d chuckle, almost evilly, before pulling out your makeup bag from the pocket of his sweatpants.

“how did you—?” you were cut off once again by his hand, and that stupid smile on his face.

“ah-ah,” he’d wiggle his pointer finger, before poking your cheek.

“let me do my magic!”

by the end of that hour, your face was decorated with sparkly stickers and hearts drawn in pink lipstick. your eyeshadow was almost terrifying, with the way it was so bright - brighter than Shidou’s eyes.

“perfect.” he’d giggle, hand on his mouth as he tried to hold back from full on cackling in your face.

surprisingly, Shidou isn’t bad at makeup - he just wanted to be a little silly for you on valentine’s day!

he posted a photo of you and your makeup, along with cute photos of the two of you throughout the day - like one of the heart engraved onto a bench with your initials, or maybe the photo of you sleeping peacefully with a bow stuck to your forehead - totally not Shidou’s doing!

he also baked with you - but it didn’t turn out great so you both decided to order takeout instead.

takeout wasn’t the most romantic meal, but it sure best whatever you both made…

Itoshi Rin

poor baby didn’t know what to do at first.

he spent a couple weeks planning and brainstorming ideas in his free time - even considering asking Isagi for advice.

instead of turning to that lukewarm freak, he chose to go with what he thought you’d like the most.

he bought you a sweet and simple bouquet, assorted with flowers of your favorite colours and type.

he wrote you a card, and got a plus he’d toy with it too.

he placed everything next to you in the morning, since he wakes up considerably earlier than you do.

when you woke up, you were pleasantly surprised with everything. thanks Rin!

when he got back home, he made the two of you some lunch.

he didn’t want to admit it, but he had been waiting to use the cute little heart plates you had bought especially for valentine’s day.

“this bowl is so cute!” you’d smile, admiring the pretty white plate decorated with pink and red hearts. “is this the one i got you valentine’s day?”

he simply nodded, placing down his plate - and sitting on the chair opposite you.

posted a photo of the two of you holding hands, along with a pretty sunset you both witnessed on your evening walk.

he definitely wasn’t too embarrassed to include the photo he took of your plates! he just wanted to be the only ones to see them

yes, he took you out on a walk in the evening - and when he noticed you shivering, he was quick to wrap his scarf around you and drape his jacket over your shoulders - not realising he just exposed himself and the pink shirt you had gotten him.

his face turned the same colour as his shirt! cute!

“Rin, why is your face so pink? are you getting cold?” you ask him, worried gaze focused on the way his cheeks were pink. “do you want your jacket back—?”

Rin quickly cut you off with a small peck, cheeks blushing even more after the small gesture.

“i was just… blushing.” he mumbles, looking away from you as a teasing smile made its way onto your face.

“aww, you were blushing〜”

Itoshi Sae

bought you a bouquet of purple roses.

purple roses mean love at first sight. <3

he also got you a matching set of earrings, a necklace, bracelet, and an anklet.

along with jewellery, he got you a piece of fancy clothing that he saw you eyeing. (example: dress, suit, button up, tie, skirt, and more! your decision)

got you a pack of cupcakes as a desert for lunch (or any yummy food if your choice)

he spent most of the day taking photos of you and admiring how beautiful you were - even with morning hair, even if you were still in your cheesy pyjamas matching that Sae got you, even if you had your face stuffed with sweets - you were beautiful and Sae wanted to capture that moment. (this is a regular occurrence, but was feeling it a bit more today!)

either takes you to a beautiful and expensive restaurant, or hosts one at home with candles lit nicely.

this valentine’s day, he chose to eat out with you - and brought you to one of the newest and most expensive restaurants in town.

“wow, Sae! this is really nice!” you smiled, placing your fork down next to your plate before looking up at Sae, who was sat opposite you.

“you deserve 10 times more.” he’d respond simply, shrugging off your words with a slight blush on his cheeks.

he watched the way your smile grew. cute.

could it be the perfect time?

“y/n.” Sae said, almost quietly - before pushing his chair back and standing up.

his slim fingers reached into the pocket of his nice dress pants - and you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken. what was he about to do?

“i have loved you since the first day i met you.” he started, hand wrapping around a small velvet box, before pulling it out of his pocket - he wasted no time on getting down on one knee, eyes looking up at the way you stared back down at him. “do you think that… you could make me even happier, and marry me?” he asks with a small smile on his face.

im sorry, but i definitely feel like he’s the type to propose on valentine’s day!

on the drive home, you had to remind him to her his eyes on the road because he kept admiring the pretty ring on your finger!

bought you another pair of cheesy pyjamas - this time, they were pink cat onesies.

he took so many photos of you and your cute little smile!

he posted a photo of your hand with the ring, being held by his

it took him a good 15 minutes to decide what photo to choose for the ring photo

along with the ring photo, he posted a picture of the two of you in your onesies, a photo of his hand on your thigh as you were both in his car - along with some others of the two of you having fun

Sae was stood in the jewellery shop, looking down at each glimmering ring in the display case.

his cheeks blushed as he imagined each one of them on your pretty hands, how could he ever choose?!

he just could not wait to hold your hand, and look down at the ring.

“um, Sir?” the accountant could ask, waving a hand in front of Sae’s face - who was currently spacing out and fantasising about holding your hand.

oh, guess he got caught up thinking about you.

just then, his eyes caught the most beautiful ring. he could practically see the happy face you’d make when he presents it to you!

he wasted no time pointing to the ring, neutral gaze looking back at the woman.

“i want that one.” he says flatly.

no woman other than you deserves to even look at him. how dare that saleslady even talk to him?

(this wasn’t on valentine’s day, but he practically danced out of the shop when he finally bought the ring)

Micheal Kaiser

how bold of you to assume he’d get you something?

jokes!

he bought you a bouquet of blue roses (a little cliche, but you it’s his thing!)

like Sae, he bought you a lot of pretty jewellery.

got you the prettiest piece of clothing, one that would match an outfit he bought for himself.

he absolutely insisted that it was a coincidence.

for lunch, he brought you to a diner he knew you liked - but when you asked, oh you liked this place? he never knew!

made sure to show you off more than usual the whole day, saying things like “they’re the only person worthy of my love” and other egoistical love confessions, if you get what i mean

for dinner, the two of you dressed up in your matching outfits

he practically begged you to be able to do your hair. (he’ll never ever admit it though, not with his ego)

when you were both finally dressed, you went to a party that his team was hosting.

when the two of you got home, he basically fell asleep on you!

“i’m not falling asleep.” he’d huff, unconsciously nuzzling further into your stomach as her hugged your waist. he just … wanted attention.

“sure,” you’d tease, fingers threading through his hair gently. “is that why you’re cuddled up to me right now?”

“ruhig sein,” he’d huff. “or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

ruhig sein = “be quiet” / “pipe down”

you simply giggle at his words, patting his head gently.

“i’m sorry.” you’d pout playfully, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Kaiser had always loved being babied by you.

it was somehow… comforting?

posted a mirror selfie of the two of you, and maybe, just maybe, a photo of your cute smiling face - if i felt like it!

The next morning, Kaiser woke up to his phone buzzing constantly - and you clinging onto his side. he couldn’t help but bask in the glory of being so famous. he had a pretty person next to him in bed and his post has most likely gone viral once again.

he reached over to the side table and picked his phone up, u locking it quickly to read the comments left on his newest post - which was of the two of you yesterday.

“best couple!” “they’re made for each other.” “y/n looks so pretty!” “they’re matching!?”

was very excited to have so many compliments.

he realised that he gets a lot more when he posts photos of you

282 notes · View notes

fushisagi · 9 months

Text

love and all its cons

୨୧ ━━ ❛ it’s difficult for one to familiarize themselves with the mystery that is your and isagi’s relationship, something that significantly blurs the line between friends and lovers. ❜

word count ⋆ 7.2k (7,278) genre ⋆ fluff, secret established relationship, 5+1 ━ pro-football player!isagi, pro-volleyball player & gn!reader

after months of you and isagi sending each other shy smiles, yearning glances, and dancing around your feelings, bachira decides it’s time for him and the rest of the team to intervene. mission: get isagi a significant other is a go!

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, all characters are 20+, everyone is a little bit of an idiot and oblivious, (brief) jealous isagi, i snuck in hinata from haikyuu!! in here bc i love him sorry, that’s it i think lmk if i missed anything!

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Bachira immediately knows something’s wrong when Itoshi Rin of all people agrees with him.

The whole team is taken aback by it, too, showing their surprise with wide eyes and thinly veiled confusion. Towards the back, Reo opens up the news app on his phone, muttering about how Rin’s agreement must be some sort of bad omen, an indication that the world is ending.

“I’m sorry,” Chigiri starts, eyes narrowed, “did you just agree with Bachira? Like, willingly?”

Rin tsks, throwing all of them a look of annoyance. “Yes.”

“Are you sick or something?”

Reo finally makes his concern known, clutching his chest dramatically as he declares, “Oh, God. I really should’ve been a survivalist. Does anyone want to come to the store with me to buy non-perishables?”

Nagi sighs tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Reo, it’s too early for you to be overdramatic.”

“It is 5pm. Practice just ended.”

Nagi responds with a yawn.

Bachira snaps out of his daze with a shake of his head. He grabs onto Rin’s arm despite the boy growling at him to let go, and forces the team into a huddle with a conspiring smile on his face. They watch him warily; a grin like that could only mean trouble, and the last time Bachira managed to drag them into his shenanigans, they ended up being slandered on national television for breaking and entering.

(He had somehow convinced the entire team it would be funny to break into Ego’s house and scare him awake).

(It was not funny. Practices for the next three months were grueling).

“We should set them up together!” Bachira exclaims delightfully.

For a moment, nobody speaks. Then, everyone looks over to Kunigami who, just last week, had come to practice with a venomous bite in his words after going on a date with someone Bachira set him up with.

Almost immediately, everyone’s voices overlap as ideas are shut down and new ones are suggested, unaware of you and Isagi watching them with a mixture of amusement and confusion. While his teammates aren’t looking, Isagi presses a kiss to your cheek and grabs you by the wrist to the farthest side of the field, where the both of you can discuss your plans for dinner without worrying about someone hearing you.

“We should just lock them up in the supply closet,” Reo says.

Kunigami shakes his head. “That would be a disaster.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I just do.”

Zantetsu muses, “Should we send both of them flowers and sign the card so they’ll think they were the ones who sent it?”

Rin scrunches his nose. “I am not spending my money on those two idiots.”

Nagi huffs. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we just told them they like each other?”

Bachira waves him off. “No. There’s no fun in that.” Then, a lightbulb turns on, and he’s clapping his hands with the excitement of a child waking up on Christmas day. “Ah! We make the both of them jealous.”

“No,” Kunigami shuts the suggestion down with a frown on his face. “that’ll create misunderstandings—”

“Awww,” Bachira whines with a pout, “you’re no fun!”

Across the field, you watch the exchange with furrowed eyebrows as Isagi orders takeout on his phone. He follows your gaze, snickering when Reo reaches over to smack Zantetsu’s head but misses and hits Rin in the face instead. Even from here, you hear everyone shouting at each other as Rin attempts to smack Reo but ends up landing a hit on Chigiri when Reo quickly ducks out of the way.

“What the hell are they doing?” you mutter as Bachira tackles Nagi with a giggle.

Isagi shrugs unhelpfully. “Don’t know.”

Someone knocks Zantetsu’s glasses of his face, which results in him gasping loudly. The arguments don’t cease despite the fact that they’re now all on the ground, attacking each other with punches and kicks only meant to bruise.

“You’re friends with a bunch of idiots, babe.”

Isagi, ever the dramatic boyfriend, looks at you as if you’ve said something so incredibly hurtful. “Excuse me, you’re friends with them, too.”

“Yeah,” you say, wincing when Bachira jumps onto Kunigami’s back and starts ruffling his hair, “Yeah, unfortunately, I am.”

attempt one: bachira meguru & kunigami rensuke.

When Bachira tells Kunigami he’s planning on tricking the two of you into going on a date and watching from the sidelines, Kunigami feels he owes it to both you and Isagi to tag along, seeing as the last time he let Bachira meddle with someone’s love life (i.e. his), it ended with a chipped tooth and a trip to the dentist’s office.

(Bachira insists it’s not his fault Kunigami punched his date. Kunigami insists it is because there was absolutely no reason for Bachira to set the date up at a Five Nights at Freddy’s themed party).

This is how Kunigami finds himself lurking behind a blue van as you and Isagi walk across the parking lot, talking animatedly as you make your way towards the entrance of the arcade. Every now and then, Isagi checks his phone with annoyance and you glance at your watch with a frown.

Kunigami phone buzzes in his pocket. He already knows what the notification is before he sees it.

groupchat: blue lock!!! 🥳⚽️❤️‍🔥

isagi 🤓 > where r u guys?

Beside him, Bachira’s fingers dash across his keyboard.

bachira 🐝 > sorry! D: I won’t be able to make it 😣😓 > looks like it’s just you and y/n~~~ 😉😉😉

isagi 🤓 > ??? > what about the rest of the team

bachira 🐝 > they’re all sick unfortunately !! ):

At this point, you and Isagi have already made it to the doors. Kunigami is too far away to read Isagi’s expression, but he looks at you for a long moment, says something that makes you laugh, before he turns back to his phone.

isagi 🤓 > really?? ALL of you are sick???

bachira 🐝 > yep!

Bachira kicks Kunigami’s shin and gestures towards his phone. The taller boy sighs and begrudgingly sends a message to the groupchat.

kunigami 😵‍💫 > yeah > cough cough

Bachira hums approvingly before walking around the car and hastily making his way to the entrance. Kunigami is quick to follow, lowering his head and bending his knees in hopes to not attract any attention with his height.

Once they step inside, Kunigami is forced to lift his chin up as he searches the crowd for any sign of his friends.

“There they are!” Bachira declares excitedly, pointing to a large claw machine before dragging Kunigami to hide behind the pinball machine.

Isagi has one hand on the joystick and the other hovering over a red button, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He leans closer to the glass as the claw hovers over a blue plushie, and just as he pushes the button, you shove his other arm, causing the claw to move forward and come down at the same time. The claw, predictably, grabs onto nothing, causing Isagi to turn to you with a pout on his lips.

“Hey!” he whines, softening when your head meets his chest as your shoulders shake with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” you say in between giggles. When you look up at him, he tries his best to look unimpressed, but he can’t bite back the smile that blooms across his face. “I’m sorry, Yoichi, I really am, but you have to admit it was pretty funny.”

“And to think I was going to win that for you!”

You glance at him, unconvinced, and then to the Snorlax plushie staring back at the both of you. “Yeah, right. You were gonna keep that for yourself.”

It’s silent for two heartbeats before Isagi sighs. “Yeah, I was gonna keep it for myself.”

“You’re a terrible boyf—”

“Um, excuse me?”

Kunigami and Bachira jump in surprise, turning to face an exhausted employee. She has her arms crossed over her chest as she suspiciously looks between the pair of football players hiding behind an arcade game. Kunigami’s eyes widen in realization. He doesn’t exactly know what conclusion this woman has come to, but he knows that two men — with baseball caps on their heads, sunglasses on the bridge of their noses, and masks on their faces — lurking in the shadows of an arcade is bound raise a few eyebrows.

“Oh, hello!” Bachira greets with too much chirpiness for Kunigami’s liking, but he can tell his friend is nervous when Bachira glances at you and Isagi, who still — thankfully — haven’t looked over to the commotion by the pinball machines. “Sorry, we were just… waiting for our turn.”

The woman blinks. “You’ve been standing here doing nothing for five minutes. Nobody’s touched the pinball machine because they thought you guys were going to play.”

Kunigami scratches the back of his neck. “Well…”

He doesn’t continue.

The woman looks at them incredulously. “Well?”

Kunigami looks at Bachira, panicked, silently begging for help. Bachira blinks back up at him and shrugs.

Ever since he met Bachira Meguru, Kunigami swears years have been continuously removed from his lifespan.

“We can’t allow you guys to stay if you’re not going to play any games. It’s company policy.”

“Oh! Then we’ll just play! Um…” Kunigami trails off as he begins patting his pockets, eyebrows knitting together when he feels wrappers, his ID, house keys — everything but his wallet. He looks at Bachira. “I don’t have any money.”

“Well, don’t look at me! I don’t have any, either!”

Across from them, the woman sighs.

Kunigami’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “What do you mean? You paid our taxi driver!”

Bachira nods. “Yes, but that was the last of my change.”

Kunigami’s eye twitches.

Over at the claw machine, you and Isagi have diverted your attention towards your friends. Your suspicion is written all over your face and Isagi, with a grin bright enough to rival the sun, has pulled out his phone to record.

“Is that…?”

Isagi snickers. “Yup.”

“I thought you said they were sick.”

“That’s what they told me,” Isagi explains, holding in his laughter as the employee politely asks Kunigami and Bachira to leave the vicinity. “But I think they’re just spying on us.”

Curiously, you ask, “Why would they do that?”

Isagi doesn’t respond. Instead, he ends the video and pulls up Blue Lock’s groupchat, which includes him and all his teammates. He scrolls up to a text from two nights ago.

bachira 🐝 > okay operation set isagi and y/n up is a GO!!!! :D 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 > does everyone remember their positions?!! 🫡

rin 😐 > Please shut the fuck up

attempt two: zantetsu tsurugi.

Zantetsu is stressed.

He’s been watching Isagi like a hawk ever since practice started, sticking to him like glue by never leaving his side. He follows Isagi when it’s time for drills, chats with him during break, and joins him to his trip to the water fountain. And yet, despite how much they’ve talked today, Isagi still has yet to mention the flowers.

Zantetsu’s learned the hard way that flowers are expensive, but he still sent two bouquets last night — one to your apartment and one to Isagi’s; he’d even gotten Bachira to sign the cards so it would look like you got the flowers for each other.

(When Reo said the forgery was awful, Zantetsu dismissed him with a roll of his eyes).

But Isagi hasn’t said a word about it. And, during the fifteen minutes you popped by, you didn’t say anything about it, either.

Zantetsu sits on the bench, close to pulling his hair out. On one side of him is Nagi, nonchalant as his thumbs dash across his phone screen; on the other side is Reo, who watches you and Isagi laugh with a look of disgust plastered across his face.

“I don’t get it,” Zantetsu groans, putting his head in his hands. “I checked with the florist six times.”

Reo snorts. “Are you sure you got their addresses right?”

“Yes! Look!” Zantetsu opens up his phone and scrolls through the digital receipt in his email. Reo looks over his shoulder and confirms the addresses with a grunt.

Nagi barely glances at his teammate’s screen before muttering, “Stupid Zantetsu.”

“What! but I did everything right!”

“Well, there’s no one else to blame,” Nagi drawls. “You’re the only one who bought the flowers.”

Zantetsu slips off the bench and lies down on the grass, muttering incoherent complaints while Nagi pays him no mind and Reo starts poking his side with the toe of his shoe.

(What Zantetsu doesn’t know, however, is that you did receive the flowers. Isagi had been at your apartment when you got the delivery and texted you that someone on the team had sent you daisies along with a card that badly resembled his signature).

(There is also the fact that Isagi spends more time at your apartment than he does at his. Five months after Zantetsu ordered the flowers, you and Isagi go to his home to pack up his things so he can officially move in with you, only to find a bouquet of dead roses on his doorstep).

attempt three: chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, & nagi seishiro.

Reo kind of likes the power that comes with playing God.

Ever since Kunigami and Bachira got kicked out of the arcade, Reo’s been plotting. He’s unlike his usual self — instead of bursting with energy, Reo comes to practice silent. He’s scrutinizing Isagi so much that the boy has started avoiding him; he’s been asking you random questions whenever you visit; under the guise of caring for his teammates, Reo has made a shared Google calendar and forced everyone to add their schedules to it (really, he’s just trying to see when Isagi is free so he can set this plan in motion).

And what Reo wants, Reo gets, and Chigiri shouldn’t have been surprised when Reo comes up to him with a 30-slide PowerPoint.

“Hear me out,” he’d said when Chigiri opened the door to his apartment. “I’m a fucking genius.”

Chigiri had no time to reply before Reo was letting himself in.

The party — a trap disguised in diamonds and alcohol, is what Reo refers to this as — is in full swing when Chigiri arrives, toeing off his shoes as he nods to familiar faces whose names he can’t quite remember and brushing off anyone who offers him a drink. He finds Nagi in the corner leaning against the wall, surprisingly off his phone, and staring at two people in the living room.

You and Isagi have taken the couch hostage. While there may be room for someone to sit, Chigiri can see why people don’t. Even from a few feet away, he feels as if he’s intruding when he watches Isagi stare up at you with his head in your lap and your fingers combing through his hair.

There is no way friends are this affectionate with each other.

Chigiri doesn’t have time to dwell before Bachira, who may as well be bouncing off the walls, swoops in to pull Isagi off your lap. He slowly rises, engulfed with sharp irritation that’s wiped away as soon as you place a hand on your shoulder and murmur a temporary farewell.

“They’re stupid,” Nagi mutters. Chigiri silently agrees.

It doesn’t take long for Reo to find them, hyper and euphoric, and Chigiri wonders if he’s either drunk off alcohol or adrenaline. He places a hand on both Chigiri and Nagi’s shoulders before declaring in true dramatic Mikage Reo fashion, “It’s game time.”

Nagi cringes. “But I’m too tired.”

“I gave you the easiest assignment!” Reo exclaims incredulously.

“Luring Isagi into your room sounds far from easy.”

“Would you rather be chasing after Y/N?”

Nagi frowns, glancing over at you. You’re strategically slipping through the crowd to avoid people you don’t want to speak to, politely giving them smiles before you disappear from sight. It’s almost as if the shadows are swallowing you whole and teleporting you to another area in the penthouse.

Nagi shakes his head and halfheartedly wishes Chigiri good luck before beginning his search for Isagi.

Chigiri sighs as Reo slaps him on the shoulder and pushes him out from his safe place against the wall, similar to that of a mother letting her child play in the playground. A rather chaotic, migraine-inducing playground.

With an annoyed huff, he begins walking the perimeters of the penthouse, scanning the crowd in hopes of finding you in your desperate attempts to vanish. He knows you find these rambunctious gatherings more bearable when you’re with Isagi; you may be friends with the entire team (one time he overheard Zantetsu saying you were one of his emergency contacts), but there is nothing that compares to your closeness with Isagi. People have tried and failed to puncture the bubble the two of you live in.

It’s difficult for one to familiarize themselves with the mystery that is your and Isagi’s relationship, something that significantly blurs the line between friends and lovers.

Chigiri may not be as observant as his other teammates, but he can spot love when he sees it. Especially if it is so ridiculously obvious that it might as well be as blinding as the sun.

He finds you in mere minutes — clearly not fast enough for Reo, who he knows is the culprit behind the continuous buzzing coming from his device. You’re in the kitchen, sitting atop a counter, nursing a glass of apple juice. When you see Chigiri in the doorway, you smile, though the tension in your body remains.

“Hi,” you greet. He makes his way towards you, swift but nonchalant. “Having fun?”

“A little. You?” At your grimace, he laughs. “You didn’t seem to be this miserable when I saw you with Isagi earlier.”

It’s bait, you know it’s bait. He expects you to brush it off with stammered words and wandering eyes but instead you shrug, hiding your smile behind the cup. If Chigiri is surprised at your silent admission, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah, but he’s not here right now, so…”

Chigiri hums teasingly. “You two looked cozy on the couch.”

You snort, downing the rest of your juice before placing the cup in the sink beside you. “He was just telling me about how Zantetsu was trailing after him like a lost puppy yesterday at practice.”

Comparing Zantetsu’s behaviour to that of a puppy is pushing it, but Chigiri decides now isn’t the time to protest. He wonders if you’re aware about the flower mishap — or if you even received the flowers in the first place.

“Did you get flowers a few days ago?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. It said they were from Yoichi.” Chigiri’s eyes widen, urging you to continue. Maybe, just maybe, he won’t have to resort to locking you in a room to deal with your feelings. “But the penmanship was so atrociously bad I assumed the bouquet was from Bachira.”

All hope disappears. It shows in the way Chigiri’s shoulders droop and the way he rubs his temples, missing your small, amused smirk.

“Okay,” Chigiri clasps his hands together with the type of determination you only see on the football field. “You’re hopeless.”

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“I know where Isagi is,” Chigiri states instead of offering an explanation.

Getting you to follow him is easy enough. With childlike excitement, you jump off the counter and trail behind him with a smile on your face. There seems to be more energy and pep in your steps, and your smile is so wide Chigiri is surprised you’re able to keep it on your face without your cheeks hurting.

And this doesn’t even compare to how Isagi acts at the sole mention of you. Chigiri wonders if setting the two of you up is the best for his sanity; he’s not quite sure he’ll be able to handle such a chipper, lovesick Isagi everyday during practice.

But then he glances at his notifications, snorting at Nagi’s anguished messages to hurry up, because hearing Isagi talk about you is much worse than watching three cheesy Hallmark romcoms back to back. Perhaps, Chigiri thinks, it would be cruel to not push the two of you together. He can worry about the suffering he’ll have to endure in the future.

Once he’s led you to the end of the hallway where Reo and Nagi loiter just outside the guest room, you falter in your steps. The next few seconds are a flurry of confusion and snappy remarks, and the next thing you know, you’re shoved into a room and the door behind you is locked with an obnoxious click.

Isagi shoots up from where he was previously lying on the bed. “Thank God you’re here. I wasn’t sure if they were just going to leave me in here by myself.”

You sigh, making your way towards the bed. Isagi shuffles to make space for you. His hands find their home around your waist before he uses them to pull you against him.

You grumble as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck. “You were right.”

You feel him smirk against your skin. “Right about what?” he asks with faux perplexity.

“You know what.”

“Hm, I really don’t.”

You huff, flicking the back of his hand, and he responds with a laugh. “They’re trying to set us up.”

“Yeah, that much was obvious, babe.”

“I thought they already knew,” you say, meeting his gaze when he lifts his head up to meet yours.

“I thought we agreed to keep this a secret.”

“No, I know,” you say, but then you gesture towards the door, and add, with bewildered mirth, “but it’s not like we’re being very secretive. I thought they would have figured it out by now.”

Isagi guffaws and despite just how loud it is, you lean into his touch, yearning to hear it again. “Didn’t you say they were idiots?”

“I didn’t think they were this oblivious.”

“And to think that’s what they’re saying about us,” Isagi smiles but it turns serious as he places his chin on your shoulder. “But do you want to tell them?”

You want to say yes. When you first agreed to this secret relationship — to avoid pressing questions and people invading your privacy — sneaking around quickly became tiresome. And it still is, though you admit it’s nicer to interact with your boyfriend in the confines of your apartment and the stadium whenever you visit, away from any prying eyes that could twist every interaction. You feel the most comfortable with him there, away from the public eye, and you know he feels the same way.

However, it might be nice for your close friends to know.

But then you remember how, just last night, you and Isagi were huddled around his phone, laughing at the ridiculous plans his teammates have made in order to get you two alone together. It seems that they’ve forgotten that your boyfriend’s in the chat too, and their naivety has become newfound entertainment.

You’re curious to find out what else they have up their sleeves. When you look at Isagi, you know he shares the same sentiment.

He grins. “That’s settled, then. What do you think they’re going to do next?”

“Bachira seems very adamant about the jealousy plan.”

Isagi snorts. “I kind of want to see where he goes with that.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why?”

He pecks your nose. “Because you’re cute when you’re jealous. And it boosts my ego.” you scoff, but before you can even think about replying, Isagi says, “Hey, do you want to leave and make out in Reo’s room?”

“We’re locked in here,” you deadpan.

Isagi lets go of you and walks towards the door. He points at the doorknob with a wide grin on his face.

The room locks from both the inside and the out.

You let out a disappointed sigh.

Sometimes you worry that the next time you see Reo, he’s going to be swindled out of a million dollars.

attempt four: bachira meguru (again) ft. itoshi rin.

This really could be the best idea Bachira’s ever had — the thing is, though, nobody has the slightest ounce of faith in him. Which, if he’s being honest, is kind of offensive.

(So what if he and Kunigami got kicked out of the arcade a few days ago? Sometimes genius plans fail! It doesn’t mean Bachira’s lost his touch).

The team has found themselves at a gala, surrounded by athletes and sponsors alike in a large ballroom smelling of wealth and prestige. Caterers carrying trays of champagne flutes slip through the crowd with practiced ease, faces painted with polite smiles that do not waver despite the football team’s — read: Bachira and Zantetsu’s — overwhelming excitement.

Rin, who narrowly escaped a conversation with a bubbly volleyball player he barely remembers the name of, walks into a prison as worse as forced small-talk. With Bachira by his side, he scowls as the shorter boy starts unsubtly pointing towards you and Isagi, whispering amongst yourselves with reserved smiles and fond eyes.

“This is stupid,” Rin says monotonously when Bachira suggests that Rin should split you and Isagi apart.

“It’s not!” Bachira argues, growing annoyed at Rin’s apathy. “Tonight’s the best night to make one of ‘em jealous. Hey, what about I split them up and you make them jealous?”

Rin’s response is simple and curt, “No.”

Bachira sighs, though he can’t say he’s surprised.

The night goes on without many bumps in the road. Rin stays by Bachira once he learns that nobody’s willing to talk to him if he pretends he’s preoccupied in a conversation, no matter how one-sided it is. Some of his teammates join in for a bit before they drift away again; Reo stops by to encourage them to talk to sponsors (Rin scowls in response), Kunigami and Zantetsu tell Rin on separate occasions he looks like he stepped in shit, Chigiri halfheartedly wishes Bachira luck, and even Nagi came by for a few minutes to talk to them.

The only teammate Rin hasn’t spoken a word to is Isagi.

He really doesn’t care, but he thinks he’d rather have a conversation with him than have to painfully watch him pine over you. The sight of it bothers him so much he’s actually considering going along with Bachira’s plan, but before he can open his mouth and spout out words he’ll likely regret, somebody comes by and takes you away.

And you let him.

For a moment, Rin’s eyes widen.

“What the—” Bachira squeaks, jaw slack. “Who is that?”

Rin recognizes the man as one of the people he avoided having a conversation with. His hair is bright, matching the excitement in his grin and the radiance in his eyes, and Rin’s pretty sure he’s seen him on billboards and advertisements hanging on the large glass windows of retail stores.

There is familiarity in his touch, Rin realizes. But there is something between the two of you that doesn’t match the atmosphere between you and Isagi — there are joyful grins and clumsy movements, sure, but it all seems friendly.

He frowns, glances at Bachira, only to find him staring at Isagi, and Rin wonders if the champagne has messed with his imagination or if there is actual smoke is coming out of Isagi’s ears.

Well. At least Bachira didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Only a couple seconds pass before Isagi grumbles and stands from his seat, walking over to where Rin and Bachira watch you and the unknown man dance next to the other couples in the ballroom. When Isagi stands in front of them, he is the perfect picture of a man wronged, his usual boyish smile replaced with an annoyed frown.

“Hello, Yoichi!” Bachira greets, though his voice is strained, and his wandering eyes don’t fail to show his discomfort. “We haven’t seen you all night.”

Isagi grunts. “Sorry.”

Rin really shouldn’t find pleasure in this, but he thinks it’s a little funny. However, his face is blank when he states, “Y/N looks like they’re having fun.”

Rin expects Isagi to glare at him with the same intensity he has on the field, but Isagi only pouts. “Uh-huh.”

“Who’s the guy they’re dancing with?” asks Bachira.

“His name’s Hinata,” Isagi grumbles, taking a champagne flute from a passing caterer’s tray. He mumbles a thanks before continuing, “He’s a volleyball player, so they met through that when he first moved to Tokyo.”

“Ah,” Bachira nods. Then, rubbing salt into the wound, he adds, “So they’re, like, super close?”

“I guess?”

“Are they dating?”

Isagi’s expression sours. “Definitely not.”

“How unfortunate,” Rin muses. He doesn’t bother to veil the glint of mischief in his eye, but Isagi is too preoccupied swirling his glass in disgust to notice, “They’d look nice together.”

(Bachira is sure the world has been thrown off-balance. Did Itoshi Rin just play instigator? For the sake of his teammate’s love life? He feels like this moment needs to be documented).

Isagi hums but doesn’t offer anything else. His posture is a lot more rigid than usual and he burns holes into the back of your head with an infuriating amount of infatuated neediness. It is only when the song ends that he relaxes, smiling wide when you part ways with Hinata to make your way to him.

Like metal to a magnet, you attach yourself to Isagi’s side, eyebrows furrowing at Rin’s contemplation and Bachira’s determination.

Shuffling awkwardly on your feet, you flash the both of them a wary smile before asking, “Are you guys having fun?”

Bachira grins and your stomach sinks. You’re not sure if you’re going to like where this is going to go. “Not as fun as you, I bet!”

You share a look with Isagi that only the two of you can decipher. “What do you mean?”

“We saw you dancing with Hinata,” your friend explains animatedly, pointing towards the boy seated at a table with his own teammates. “He’s cute! Have you ever thought about dating him?”

Rin’s face contorts into one of displeasure. Bachira does not have one subtle bone in his body.

You blink. Isagi places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “No? He’s my friend.”

“Oh! So, like Isagi?”

Isagi’s hand drops from your shoulder. Beside him, you’re biting the inside of your cheek, but the amusement on your face is as clear as day. “Bachira,” Isagi warns, frazzled and panicked.

Bachira frowns, confused by Isagi’s uneasiness. “What?” he questions, tone light and mischievous. He draws all his focus onto you, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve been shoved into an interrogation room. “It’s just a question! Even Rin said you two would look nice together!”

“He’s a friend,” you repeat, and it feels more like a reassurance for the boy next to you than anything else. “Speaking of which, Hinata wanted to talk to you, Yoichi, about the game last week. He said he wanted to congratulate you.”

Isagi brightens at the reminder of his goal that earned them a victory. “Oh—!”

“Wait,” Bachira interjects, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You know him? Like, personally?”

“Yeah, we’re friends—”

Bachira gapes. “You have friends?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I meant other than us!” Bachira adds quickly. His mouth is hanging open, and the loudness of his shock has drawn the attention of the other guests, causing you to shrink into yourself. Your hand finds Isagi’s before you tug him away, throwing apologetic glances at any questioning looks you find yourself on the receiving end of.

“You idiot,” Rin hisses, “people are staring.”

Before Bachira can say anything more about his utter shock at Isagi having a social life outside of football, someone taps Rin on the shoulder. It’s an older man, presumably someone who wants to sponsor him, and at the sight, Rin glowers. When he looks over his shoulder in hopes of throwing Bachira under the bus, he sees that the spot beside him is empty.

A few feet away, a caterer yelps when Bachira accidentally bumps into them.

Rin grits his teeth.

(On your way to Hinata’s table, you snort, “And here I thought you liked Bachira’s jealousy plan.”

Isagi rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Yoichi,” you coo, which only causes his pout to grow, “I think you look cute when you’re jealous.”

“I hate you.”

You laugh and he tugs you closer to his side. “No,” you say softly, “you love me.”)

attempt five: itoshi rin.

Whoever thinks that Rin is doing this because he cares is way off base.

If anything, he’s doing this for the sake of his own wellbeing. He was stupid to leave this situation in the hands of his teammates, who have yet to make any progress on doing something about Isagi’s ridiculous pining.

This is how Rin finds himself standing in front of you, awkward and out of place, as you slowly place your duffel bag on the bench. Behind you, your teammates are warming up for the upcoming game, throwing the occasional perplexed glance at Rin’s intimidating figure, before deeming it better to brush him off and ask you about him later.

“Rin, hi,” you say apprehensively. “The game isn’t until five.”

“I know.”

“And it’s three.”

“I know.”

You wrinkle your nose at his tone but choose to ignore it so you can put your kneepads on and tie your shoelaces. In the corner of your eye, Rin continues to just stand; he’s so rigid that you’re convinced that a light shove is all you need for him to tip over and shatter on the floor like glass.

When the comfortable silence begins to grow awkward, Rin clears his throat, “I need to talk to you.”

“You could’ve just called me.”

“You wouldn’t have answered,” he deadpans, briefly glancing towards your phone, silenced, and peeking out the side of your bag, “and it’s important.”

“More important than preparing for a game?”

You gesture around you. Volleyballs soar through the air once they make contact with skin, forearms are tinged red, and shoes squeak against the vulcanized rubber floors. When Rin looks at you, you’re itching to leave, eager to part from him and this conversation in order to get your hands on a ball.

Rin hesitates. “Well… no?”

With a sigh and roll of your eyes, you point to the door. “Okay, well, tell me about it later. I’ll see you—”

“It’s about Isagi.”

You freeze.

“What about him?” you ask. Your previous chagrin has quickly been replaced by worry. A mien that’s a mixture of love and panic is painted across your face as you hastily grab your phone (Rin notices your lockscreen is a candid photo of Isagi playing with a cat on the screen) and open your messages.

“He likes you.”

A quiet moment passes.

Then, you croak, “I’m sorry?”

“He likes you,” Rin repeats uncomfortably. “He has feelings for you.”

You stare. Rin prepares himself for the flurry of feelings he’s sure he will be hit with in a matter of seconds. An assortment of disbelief and hope and infatuation that will come once you’ve been snapped out of your still state, face blank as the cogs in your mind begin to turn.

He prepares himself for your emotions.

Instead, he’s met with a harsh shove on his shoulder and the same annoyance that was on your face a few minutes ago. “That’s the emergency?” you exclaim incredulously. “I— This is unbelievable. This really couldn’t wait until later?”

Rin can barely contain his shock. This is the last reaction he was expecting. He’s seen only a handful of romance films, but he knows that they always involve a timid denial of feelings. When he came here, on his day off, with the intention of finally putting an end to everyone’s misery, he expected you to falter and soften before dialling Isagi’s number and confessing.

He did not prepare for your disbelief — not at his words, but more so at him.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes. Thank you for informing me. Now, can you go?”

Rin cannot believe his ears. “Do you understand what I just said?”

“Yes, I—”

“I’m pretty sure he—”

“I get it,” you interject, opting to start pushing him towards the exit. “And I already thanked you for telling me, it really is appreciated. I’ll see you at the game, yeah? Bye.”

With that, you spin on your heel and stomp over to the court, leaving Rin to stand in the door, dumbfounded.

Well, that is the first and the last time he’ll ever do something nice for you or Isagi Yoichi.

Isagi isn’t quite sure what he’s done wrong.

When his teammates take their seats one by one, he immediately notices the defeat strewn across their faces. Alarmed, he asks if they’re alright, but all he receives in response is Chigiri’s fatigued sigh and a sharp glare from Rin.

His eyes find yours once you step onto the court, and with a shrug of your shoulders and a reassuring smile, Isagi sweeps his worry under the rug. He knows you’ll end up telling him what you know later anyway, whether it be in the car or under the duvet, his thumbs rubbing circles on your wrist as you’re both lulled into slumber.

But right now, Isagi redirects all his energy into focussing on the game.

He ignores the chatter beside him, rapid bickering that doesn’t evolve into a full-out argument, and watches as you strike a ball to the floor with impressive ferocity. Isagi is the first out of his seat to shout for joy, followed by the rest of the delighted crowd. The smile of his face is so blinding it might as well light up the entire gymnasium.

After every point you score, he’s on his feet. Pride swells in his chest as your team inches closer and closer to victory. His cheeks hurt from how much he’s smiling, especially since it grows every time you make eye contact with him on the stands, beaming. After each set, Isagi makes a mental list of different things he could do to have you look at him that again.

It is only during the last set when Isagi’s smile drops. The intensity on his face is not dissimilar to the one he dons during a game, and his teammates bristle at the sight of it, unfamiliar to seeing it off the field. They can’t blame his sudden seriousness, though, because while your team is at match point, the opponents aren’t too far behind.

The whistle blows. A player serves the volleyball into the air.

Everything happens in slow motion. Isagi wonders if this is what it feels like to watch his games from the sidelines, with every breath feeling like it may thwart a play and every movement causing anxiety to crawl up his throat like bile.

When your hand touches the ball, spiking it for what Isagi swears is the nth time of the day, time no longer stands still. The crowd roars as you’re crushed into a hug by your teammates, all wearing matching grins of triumph.

The next few moments are the consequence of a split second decision.

Isagi didn’t know he was going to do this when he woke up this morning, the spot beside him cold and a text on his phone reminding him to eat breakfast. He spends the entire day doing the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, and moping in your absence, too busy to even consider going through with an act that could be a PR disaster.

But then you look at him, and you’re shining, and Isagi decides to give in.

He’s out of his chair within seconds, waving off the questioning remarks coming from his friends as he speeds to the court.

(He’s more than grateful that security knows who he is by now, because if he were any other guy, he would’ve been detained the moment his feet touched the floor).

You seem to understand all his intentions by the time he’s within earshot. That’s the one thing about you that Isagi could only imagine wrapping his head around. All it takes is one glance, one second, for you to know what he desires. It almost makes his heart burst, at the realization that somebody loves him so much that they know every inch of him.

“I’m sweaty,” you say once you’ve escaped your teammates’ grasp.

Isagi raises an eyebrow, because when has that ever stopped him? “I don’t care.”

Your face is in his hands within seconds, cradled in delicate fingers that contrast the way his lips move with enough passion to light the world on fire. Curling your fingers around his belt loops, you pull him closer before resting your hands on the sides of his neck with your thumb tracing his jawline.

Being with Isagi under the spotlight like this is exhilarating.

The happiness, however, is short lived.

“What the hell!” Bachira shrieks, and Isagi pulls away — not too far, though — and rests his head against your forehead, sighing. “Does this mean my plan worked?”

Rin growls. “There is no way in hell you’re taking credit for this.”

“Actually,” Reo chimes in, “I’m pretty sure Chigiri, Nagi, and I are the reason for all of this.”

Zantetsu scoffs, immediately pushing past Reo to get closer to you and Isagi. “No, this means you guys got the flowers—”

Isagi lifts his head up, exasperated. “We’ve been dating for five months.”

He had been hoping that statement alone would be enough to get them to shut up.

He is dreadfully wrong.

“What?” Chigiri exclaims. “So, everything we did was for nothing?”

“Wait,” Kunigami interjects, eyebrows furrowed. “So that means you guys have been giggly and insufferable all these months because you’ve been dating?”

You muse. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And that’s not going to change?”

Isagi throws his arm over your shoulder. “Oh, definitely not.”

Silence.

Then, Bachira tugs Rin’s sleeve and gestures for everybody to get into a huddle.

“Guys,” he says in what you assume is his attempt at a whisper, but you’re close enough to hear, even with the surprised clamor from the audience. “We need to break them up.”

Isagi squawks in protest, letting go of you to force himself into the huddle.

You watch the scene with a fond smile. One of your teammates comes up beside you and murmurs in wonder, “Your boyfriend and his friends sure are something.”

“What, idiots? You can say idiots.”

Your teammate snorts. “Yeah. It’s a little endearing, though.”

You laugh, nodding in agreement, and when Isagi calls you over to help, you take his hand and let him drag you into the circle, shooting down all the suggestions they’ve jokingly made about you dumping him.

You’ve come to the realization that you fit. Right here, next to Isagi, there will always be a place for you. Perhaps, then, that makes you an idiot by association.

(You don’t think you’d have it any other way).

#isagi #isagi yoichi #bllk #blue lock #isagi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #fic: love and all its cons

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doobea · 9 months

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BLLK - Relationship HCs + Songs That Describes It

contents: gn!reader, super fluffy, sfw, established relationships characters mentioned: isagi, bachira, nagi, chigiri, reo, rin a/n: probably a bunch of these floating around but these are just my interpretations hehe

isagi - double take by dhruv

he absolutely adores you and will take a lot of selfies, short videos, and candid photos - whether you notice or not. this is because for your anniversary he wants to surprise you with a custom physical photo album.

does the little thing where he wiggles his hand in front of you, indicating he wants to hold yours. gets super pouty if you decline.

when watching reality dating shows, isagi will roll his eyes and call out toxic behavior, claiming that he'll never treat you like that.

he's super quick to defend you if your name comes up in a conversation. doesn't matter if he gets teased as a "simp" or "whipped", he's 100% down to fight whoever.

bachira - glue song by beabadoobee

has a habit of getting into pointless debates and silly arguments. the most recent one being if cereal is a soup - the answer is yes.

you guys have a secret code for each other. three shirt tugs being 'i love you', two tugs being 'let's leave together', and four tugs being 'i want to cuddle right now'.

loves it when you match his texting style, which heavily consists of emoticons and unconventional emojis.

likes to recreate those quick one-cup mug recipes that he finds on instagram and tiktok! not all of them turn out good but he's always eager to show you the final product.

nagi - sundays by emotional oranges

he goes wild at arcades in order to win you cute plushies, not that he has to try all that hard. all the other couples within the vicinity get jealous as they see you haul around a cart filled with giant stuffed saniro characters.

he probably has a battle station, the type with RBG lighting, two monitors, and a mic set up. in his clear PC case, he keeps polaroid photos of you guys so that whenever he's playing games or doing homework he can look over for motivation.

loves planning aquarium dates with you. he spends the majority of the time in the jellyfish section, pointing to various ones and saying "that's us", and you have to physically drag him out in order to explore the rest of the building.

don't be surprised if you're spending your weekends kissing and cuddling all day long. nagi doesn't care if it doesn't go anywhere, he's simply content just having you engulfed in his arms.

chigiri - every summertime by niki

if he notices that you're playing a song often, he'll add it to his personal playlist and act surprised the next time you compliment his music tastes.

he coordinates his outfits with you as much as possible. if you're wearing a pink top with white bottoms, he'll wear a white top with pink bottoms.

he lets you take the hot showers first, although he prays that there's enough warm water for the next round, and cleans up your stray hairs knowing that sometimes you're forgetful.

he's not usually a talkative person but, if you're the type to be uncomfortable with making calls or taking orders, chigiri will step up and do it for you. don't feel like making a doctor's appointment? he's got it covered.

reo - pink + white by frank ocean

his love languages are acts of service and gift-giving. that means whenever he's on the way home, he'll try and stop by your favorite cafe for your usual drink, text you if you have any packages that arrived in the apartment's package room, and asks if you want takeout.

if you guys are walking out of the store to a heavy downpour without an umbrella, reo will advise you to go back inside as he gets the car. he'll drive to the storefront and makes sure you stay dry.

loves leaving the last bite to you - especially when you're both out at an expensive restaurant. he'll even pretend to be full just so you can savor the last bits of his food.

you put him in charge of killing the bugs in the relationship, somehow he's super bad at it and half of them end up getting away.

rin - bad by wave to earth

if a fan requests a picture with him, he'll literally pose next to them like a stick figure with a blank expression. he thinks it unnecessary to touch them or smile if it's not with you.

the most frequent thing he texts you is asking if you've drank any water and if you've eaten today. saying no to any of them and he'll gently berate you over text, stressing over whether or not you're taking care of yourself.

anytime he is texting you, he covers his phone screen if people are around because he wants your chats to remain private between the two of you.

he constantly thinks about whether he's treating you right. he struggles a lot with his forms of communication but when it comes to you he wants to make sure that nothing is mistranslated. the last thing he wants is for his ego to get the best of him.

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gisele0127 · 10 months

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rin itoshi cannot get enough of your belly.

there are so many times you’ve caught him rubbing your stomach. “i love you” he says while laying down in bed next to you tracing your belly. he rubs patterns all over it looking at it tenderly. his hands are a little rough with some callouses here and there, but it still feels nice. “i love you too rin” you say smiling lovingly looking down at his hand. his movements now tracing an i love you.

another time you’re making diner while he’s at practice so he can come home to a nicely cooked meal. humming to yourself and clearly not paying attention to anything but the food you were making, you feel strong arms wrap around you from behind. startled at first but then you quickly realize it was just rin, so you start leaving back into his touch. he puts his head on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck, his hands once again rubbing your belly gently warming it up, “i love you”.

one time he was also really mad, like really mad. his team had lost an important game, he did good but his teammates not so much. the car ride home was silent you knew what was going through his mind, as his girlfriend of many years you knew how this was going to turn out. he quickly gets out of the car and into the shared home, going straight into your shared bedroom. changing into his pijamas he sits on the bed patiently for you. it takes about 30 minutes until you get into bed, and when you do you see him waiting sitting on the bed. is that a pout on his face? you lay down next to him looking at him, and when you’re about to speak he moves down. his head now laying on your stomach. a rough “i love you” come out from his mouth.

but today, he comes home after a long day of practice, he just can’t wait to go home, skipping his yoga and just laying down with you. he even stops by your favorite takeout place so you two could eat together (he’ll cheat just for you). but when he gets home it’s silent all the lights turned off. it’s too early to be quiet, are you asleep? he goes into the bedroom and turns on the lights because this is quite unusual. just as he predicted you’re laying down asleep. but you look different. puffy eyes and your cheeks have little streaks of dried tears on them. his heart breaks just looking at you. then he notices his big hoodie and sweatpants on you. that is unusual too since you usually sleep in just his shirt. he wakes you up concerned, slightly shaking you. “whyre you crying?” maybe he should’ve asked a little nicer but hey he’s trying. you wake up groggy and when you see your boyfriend again you just start crying again. you rarely ever cry, which is why rin is so concerned. but he’s just silent now taking you into his his arms, holding you till you start talking. “i’m fat. so fat even the freaking tabloids are talking about how rin itoshi should be with a skinny model or with anyone who’s not a nobody” you say in a broken tone. you never let the media get to you, so rin could tell that this really hurt you. he looks up at you confused, “you’re not even fat. i mean i guess you could say that you’re not as fit as me but i don’t care. you’re not obese and that’s what matters.” he says bluntly. you just stare up at him and start crying even more. he stares at you intently till he pushes you off gently, getting off the bed then signaling for you to follow him. you do as he says, eventually following him to the big mirror in the room. he makes you stand in front of it, and he’s standing behind you. you can see him staring at you through the reflection. he gently takes his hoodie off to where you’re left in just your bra. to make you feel more comfortable he takes his shirt off too, so that you’re not the only one. so there you are standing in front of a mirror shirt off and in your boyfriends (not so) oversized sweatpants. he hugs you from behind, “i love you”. he grabs your thighs “i love this”. he grabs onto your arms “i love these even more”. “but most of all… i love this” he says as he grabs onto your belly fat slightly shaking it, then rubbing it affectionately. now nuzzling into your neck, “you know why?”. you just look at him confused and teary eyed. “because this is where our kids will be.” he’s now placing gentle kisses all over your neck. “i don’t care if you’re fat or not. i don’t care what other people say. i love you and your perfect body.”

now you know why rin loves your belly so much.

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lemonyko0 · 11 months

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Rum Raisin - jjk

» genre: fluff, a bit of angst, and smut :)

» wc: 3.6k

» description: established relationship! sickeningly sweet, mentions of cheating (dw it's not real </3), good ol' praise kink :P

Rum Raisin

you were sleeping soundly on a saturday afternoon, basking in your day off when jungkook came into the room, jumped onto the bed beside you and proceeded to pull you into him, purposefully stirring you from sleep and sprinkling you with kisses and squeezes in an effort to curb your impending whining.

you let out a sound of discontent as he pulls you out of the warmth of your side of the bed. it barely lasts a second though, until you're begging him to stop kissing you for just a moment, “you're gonna leave marks, koo.” you warn him.

you can feel him shake his head, “i won't. but i don't really care, either.” he laughs mischievously and kisses you harder just to get a rise from you and it works, causing you to giggle and squirm in his embrace in an attempt to doge him but you know you hold no chance of getting away from him unless he wants you to (and he obviously does not).

“you're in a good mood. missed me that much?” you tease, trying to get him to move on from the campaign against work-(in)appropriate hickeys.

he hums affirmatively, finally resting his face against your head as he pulls your back tight against his chest. “mom was upset i couldn't bring you. she talked my ear off about how great you are and how i need to work hard for a girl like you.”

you nod, “good good, smart woman.”

he chuckled and squeezed your sides as a tease, “i skipped out on dinner because i wanted to eat with you.”

you grinned and turned in his arms to face him. just as you'd predicted, he has that glint in his eyes. you always notice it when he’s in a particularly good mood, and especially when he’s alone with you. you think he’s just special to have it written in his face like that, he is totally in love with you. and you wonder if other people can see it too.

you take his face and press your nose against his as he anticipates and a kiss, “do you wanna make something together or eat out?”

his eyes flicker open and he takes one of your hands from your face and holds it instead, “i was thinking of grabbing takeout from that chinese place since it's beside the store and we’re chronically out of milk and eggs.” you groaned, you hated that store. “it's okay whiney, i'll just run in and get it.”

“no you've driven all day, let me drive.” you pout.

he shakes his head insistently, “my tank is full and you're barely awake, i'll drive.”

you let the pout sit and argue no further. he grins and kisses you until you don't even remember you were pouting in the first place and can't think of anything besides him.

you let your hand tug gently at his curls. he's letting his hair grow long nowadays, feeling comfortable and bold enough to try something new with your constant encouragement. you can't deny it may be for selfish reasons. he looks disgustingly attractive with short hair and an undercut, but there's just something about running your hand through his wavy locks and being able to gently pull at his hair that works a certain magic on you. that, and you found (much to your annoyance) that he simply looks good with any hairstyle. you suppose some people are just that lucky and god must've treated him like a treasured sculpture.

eventually his sweet lips pull away from yours and he’s patting your butt with a grin, “get dressed, baby.”

you reluctantly pull yourself out of bed and to your dresser, finding the nearest pair of jeans and replacing only your pj bottoms before grabbing a pair of socks. jungkook watches you inquisitively from the door, “no top?”

you laugh, you certainly had a top on but you didn't feel like putting in the effort of not only changing that but also finding a bra, especially when you weren't leaving the car. so you shook your head, “no need.”

he stares at you dangerously, leaning against the doorframe as he pulls the lip ring in the corner of his mouth with his teeth. he shrugs, still staring profanely at your chest and the way your low-cut long sleeve shapes it.

you walk to him and place a hand underneath his chin and lift his head, “i do have eyes you know, and they're not down there.”

he follows you out and towards the door before cutting in front of you and backing you against the nearest wall, “oh i know, it's just a girl like you deserves to have every part of her admired,” he leans against the wall with one arm pressed against it and the other running from your jaw to your hip, “and not just her pretty eyes.”

you have a fleeting moment of sanity when your stomach rumbles and you think had it not been for your own survival instincts, a different set of instincts would've taken over entirely and dinner would have been long forgotten.

you press onto your toes to kiss his cheek, knowing full well where kissing him anywhere else would lead to, and tell him despite how hot that show was, that you both needed to eat.

he laughed and pulled out his phone, taking your order and calling it in as you grab your things and put your shoes on.

jungkook made quick work of running in to grab your food, tucking it securely in the backseat before driving to the store.

he squeezed your thigh from the drivers seat, and you refrained from telling him to stay focused on driving because the way his fingers grip your leg with just the right amount of pressure has your face flushing. you blame it on missing him, or maybe the little show he put on before you left, but the smirk on his face tells you he’s doing everything purposefully.

“i'll be quick.” he tells you after parking the car, leaning over for a quick peck before running into the store.

as the sun sets, the car visor becomes increasingly ineffective and leaves you reaching into the glovebox for the pair of sunglasses you put in there last summer.

you find the case perfectly intact, but you also find something else.

you're not terrifically well-versed in the world of makeup but you've been trying to learn. one thing you've avidly avoided was lipstick. it never seemed to suit you and you didn't enjoy the way it dried your lips or the way past boyfriends used it as an excuse not to kiss you goodnight. you warmed at the thought that jungkook would never be that guy, and in fact kissed you so much the day you bought your first gloss that you'd think he was trying to make you use it all.

but that warm feeling fades at the realization that your boyfriend, who had just spent two days at his ‘parents house’ (which he's never done before in all three years, save for holidays, and certainly never without you) had someone else's lipstick in his car.

you knew of the rule, or at least, saw it on social media. a tale as old as time and a sure-fire way to let the poor ‘other woman’ know that someone else had been there, with their man: leave something in the car. hair ties, nails, jewelry, and even, makeup.

you sincerely don't think jungkook’s that guy. he's not once expressed discontent within your relationship. you've spent the last three years within that honeymoon phase and even your friends joke you couldn't possibly be more up each other's butts than you already are.

but you're rational. achingly so. of course you're not going to sit here and think he would do something like that, why would you? you know if you were anyone else you'd tell them to face the music, the obvious was right in front of them. you ran through every scenario, maybe it was a gift? but the packaging was gone, it'd been opened. jungkook has never bought you makeup before either, you figure he'd be all but terrified of the implications of doing so.

you try your best to run through every possibility of how this would have gotten in here, maybe he found it on the ground? picked it up to throw it away? some random girl just handed it to him! but why take it? nothing made rational sense and you were growing increasingly upset with your lack of excuse.

you hear the backseat door swing open as he places the groceries securely on the floor before getting into the drivers seat. he secures his seatbelt before looking over at you, and his face drops immediately. “are you alright?”

your brows are furrowed and you're struck silent. you can do nothing but hand it to him. you hold the lipstick up to him and can't look him in the eyes, entirely horrified by what you might read on his face.

he takes the small tube from your hands and pauses, “what is it, lipstick?”

“i don't know, you tell me.” the car goes silent and you bid yourself to look over at him and immensely regret it.

at first he was confused, but once he saw the way you looked at him, he was gutted. “oh, no, no, y/n, it's okay! it's okay! look!” he showed me the bottom of the tube, “it's rum raisin! it's my mom favorite, she gave it to me because she bought one for you. she wanted you to match and she thought it'd look good on you.”

you debated the plausibility of his story, he sounded confident. that would be a difficult thing to make up on the fly in the detail he described it, and that is 100% something his mother would do. she is infatuated with you, and treats you like her own daughter. she's bought you clothes before, and matching colors at that. and she did always wear a brown lipstick.

you took the tube from his hands an opened it, sure enough it was the same shade and unused, it'd just lost its sticker.

you stared at him hard, “and you swear on your life that that's the truth?”

he nodded so aggressively he could've given himself whiplash, “absolutely, i'll call her right now.” you shook your head and stared down at your hands, letting it roll around in your palm. a wave of ease rushed over you.

he pulls his phone out anyway and sends a quick text before setting it back down and reaching across the car to grab your hands, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and making you look at him, “i would never do that to you, y/n.” you'd never seen him so serious in his entire life. you've only seen this level of determination and conviction one other time, which was when he asked you out. he wasn't lying then, and you can read him like a book, he wasn't lying now.

“i know.” you grin. “it just scared the piss out of me. why'd you put it in the glovebox?”

he grins, “i didn't know if they could like, melt in your pocket, and it bothered me rolling around in the seat. i forgot i put it in there.”

you nodded, very familiar with his weird tendencies. “i believe you.”

he gave you the same, earnest look, “are we good?”

you gave him a quick nod before kissing him several times over, this was the man you've loved for three years, no doubt about it.

you finally pulled away once it dawned on you where you were, “sorry, we’re still in public.”

“i don't care.” he pulled you back in by the back of your neck and kissed you harder. the warmth of his kiss was intensified by the coolness of that damn lip ring. you sincerely think this new hobby of his will be the death of you.

despite everything being all too wrong for you to keep going, neither one of you have the willpower to pull away. he grips you so tight you’re surprised you're not already in his lap and you lick at his lips like you couldn't get enough of him. he always give you more, though. he never denies you.

the only thing strong enough to pull you away was the ringing of his phone, and you both knew who was calling.

he reluctantly pulls away after fighting you over just ignoring her call. he answers it with a sigh, “hi mom.”

you can barely hear her over the phone until he puts it on speaker, “hi y/n! i got you that lipstick, it's the same color i used and you told me it looked good on me so it must look good on you too!”

you chuckled at her logic, “thank you mrs. jeon.”

jungkook made quick work of wrapping it up and saying goodbye to her, setting his phone down again and looking towards you with a grin, “just so you have no doubts, ever.”

you nod and smile sweetly to him, “thank you.”

you watch a smile form and he leans back in to kiss you and you put your hand against his chest to stop him, “uh uh.” you tsk.

he looks at you through hooded eyes, “what?”

“let's get us home first, then you can kiss me all you want.”

he smirks, “you shouldn't tell me that.”

the moment the grocery and takeout bags leave your hands he’s pressing you against the counter, effectively trapped between his arms as the other pulls you in by your waist. his kiss is intoxicating and you feel your rationality slipping the longer he acts like this. “we have food, koo.”

he chuckles, “i don't care.”

he reunites your lips and moves his hand down towards your ass, grabbing it hard and biting your lip gently. you begin to plead with him, “it'll be cold koo, you said you were starving.”

he shakes his head, “i wasn't talking about food.” oh.

he dips suddenly and you feel your feet lift off the ground as he sits you on the counter with a smirk, parting your legs and fitting so snugly between them like it was a second home. “normally i'd indulge you,” he speaks right below your ear, placing a kiss there, “be a real gentleman, stop myself.” he places another kiss along your throat, letting his large hand hold it taught as the other runs up your thigh, “but you don't really want me to stop, do you?”

you shook your head breathlessly, “no.”

you feel him grin, “do you mean it?”

you nodded eagerly, “yes, koo.” placing your hand above his that rests atop your thigh, and moving it towards your center.

you hear him chuckle and hum in your ear, “my good girl, showing me what she wants.” he unbuttons your jeans with ease and slides his hand into cup your heat, purposefully avoiding your lips so he can listen to your sweet noises as he circles your clit.

you don't hold back, because he deserves it. you let every hum and whine slip past your mouth until he can't stand to be apart from them, easily slipping his tongue in to drown out your voice. you kiss him back with vigor, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer and you feel him grin at your eagerness. you tug on the bottom of his shirt and he pulls back, “what do you want?”

“take your shirt off, please.”

he laughs as he grabs it from the bottom and pulls it over his head with ease. you easily gawk at him and his figure, a sight you'll never be tired of. “lean back.” he tells you, digging his thumbs in the waistband of your jeans, “lift your hips.” he instructs until your jeans join the growing pile on the floor. “so pretty.” he coos, tracing his lips in bruising kisses along your neck as his hand slips beneath your underwear, groaning in pride at the wetness between your legs. easily lending a finger inside your hole, gently curling it at its deepest points. jungkook was a fast learner in most subjects, but the quickest of them all was your body. "tell me what you want baby."

your grip on his shoulders was tight, like you'd fall from grace any second.

"more, please."

he hums and gently bites your neck, "you're so pretty." he pushes two fingers past and you instinctively widen your legs to accommodate, feeling the familiar aching of an approaching orgasm. he's generous with his pace, accelerating until you're moaning in his ear and he knows he's where he needs to be. "so wet, bet you're close huh?" you nodded as best you could, "you wanna cum on my fingers or on my cock baby?"

you knew what you wanted without question, but you decide to tease him, "both."

"both?" this seemed to have excited him, mindlessly going deeper and making your toes curl at the feeling. "so greedy baby." your body starts to tighten and your eyes screw shut, whimpers fall from your mouth as you feel it crash into you, holding onto him like a vice as he helps you through it.

once you've calmed down he removes his hand and looks at you cockily, “i will never get tired of watching that.” he kisses you numb, “wanna have that image tattooed on my eyelids.”

you chuckle at him and begin to undo his belt and he watches you intently, “no breather?”

you shake your head, “need you now, please.”

he tsks, “i don't think you want it enough.”

you pout and kiss his lips, “please koo.”

“almost there.”

“jungkook please,” you whined, having gotten his pants completely undone.

“what?”

you blink up at him as he towers over you on the counter. you let your hand slide into his pants just as he did yours, finally feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans. you moaned at the feeling and the eagerness of having him inside of you again, “please jungkook, i need you.”

he seems to have momentarily lost his composure as he lets you feel him up, “fuck, you're such a good girl.” he picks his head up and looks down at you, still with your hand in his pants sheepishly, “you deserve to be rewarded for that.”

you pulled him back down to you and ran your tongue against his lips and he met you with a unmatched desire and stripping you both of whatever clothes you had left. you felt his hard cock against your folds and writhed with excitement. he ran it through your wetness, teasing your entrance until you begged him yet again, "jungkook please, fuck me."

he groaned with excitement and wasted no time, letting his dick slide past your warm folds as slowly as he could bring himself to do it, which must've taken the strength of a saint by the way he was straining himself.

"fuck, i always forget how fucking good you feel."

"don't hold back, please, need to feel you."

he sucked in his breath and ticked his head, "if i didn't id finish in seconds, baby. that's how good you feel." he pulled his cock out slowly, leaving the head in before snapping his hips back up, the angle the countertop gave him wasn't making your case any better, either. feeling him dragging against your walls and hitting that perfect spot.

you were sure he knew immediately by the way you tightened around him, only making it easier for him to gain momentum and he began fucking up into you so hard you were sure you were leaving marks against his back. he didn't seem to mind or notice at all, focusing on your pleasure instead as he always does. he instructed you to lay against the table so he could use one hand to keep you where he needed you, and used the other to rub your clit without warning.

you shook your head and reached for his wrist, “fuck, please, too much.”

he didn't relent, “you've got it baby, you can take it.”

you couldn't keep your eyes open or your mouth from spilling lewd noises as he touched you, feeling your legs widen and your core grow tighter as a second orgasm comes ripping through, “i'm gonna cum jungkook.”

he could only groan in response, pushing down on the bottom of your stomach with his thumb that was holding you in place. you came with a resounding moan of his name, the only comprehensible thought you had.

your core tightened around him and he warned you in seconds before finishing inside of you.

he let his head rest against yours as you both regained your composure. he let out a deep breath before pulling out and you whined, immediately covering your area, “you're gonna make a mess of my kitchen.”

he reached for the nearby paper towels, gently wetting one before handing it to you and grabbing another for himself.

“we can team clean tomorrow.” he beamed.

you rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, it was contagious. he helped you off the counter and back into your comfy sweater, “so, eat or shower first.”

you held him close to you, “eat. definitely eat.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

sigh, it's been a while. but i back!! thank you so so much for reading, if you liked it be sure to show it by interacting pls !! have an absolutely fantastic day and be kind <3 - ara

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taglist: @marvelahsobx @notbotheredtho @fragmentof-indifference @jwnghyuns @isab3lita @shescharlie @kooookie @jeonzll @laylasbunbunny @instabull @xjiminsthighsx @iceykoo @ash07128

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mavrintarou · 1 year

Text

[10:42AM] Suna Rintarou

Dropping this quick - need to head out. Will come back and edit it.

Warning: daddy Rin, angst, fluff, and of course, you guys asked and I tried to deliver smut . Rintarou rushes out of the gym, not caring to say goodbye to his teammates.

Only two weeks ago, they discovered that Rintarou had become a father.

Since then, after practice was over, he was gone. Like a ninja.

To see his little girl.

Y/n eats her rice porridge, watching Rin cuddle their two-week-old infant. The moment he made it through the door, he ran to the bedroom to change into fresh new clothes before coming to pick up the baby from her cot. She has been sleeping on his chest for a while as he watches his phone.

Who would have known when she found out she was pregnant and announced it to him with joy that he walked out the door and never turned back?

At almost seven months, he shows up – mad and upset that she had disappeared. He had been searching for her for months, only to find out why he had difficulty finding her because she had left the country for Taiwan.

“Suna Rintarou, you walked out on us; you wanted NOTHING to do with us. You have NO right to be mad. Go back to Japan.”

Unfortunately, he did not. He returned the following day, explaining that he wanted to be part of the baby’s life.

“I will take full responsibility.” His green eyes pierce right into hers with seriousness. “I want to be part of my child’s life.”

Y/n had never witnessed such vulnerability in him before as he pleaded desperately to make amends. It was almost unfathomable to her that the same man who walked out on her without a second glance was now standing there, baring his heart and soul. Despite her cursed soft heart, Y/n easily gave in to his plea. “Fine.”

She transferred her job back to Japan. Rin helped her move back where he could have easier access to her during the pregnancy.

Throughout the pregnancy, an unexpected civility existed between them. Y/n made a conscious effort to include him in her doctor appointments, extending invitations that she half-expected him to decline. To her surprise, he consistently showed up, never failing to be by her side.

He gave her a credit card so she could use it, but he has yet to see any purchases made on it.

And that bothered him.

“You should be eating more; you must eat for two now.” He scolded, noticing the emptiness of her fridge. Concern etched on his face, he continued, “I always thought pregnant women were supposed to have a radiant glow; you look like you need five meals and twelve hours of sleep.”

“I don’t have time to cook and clean, so it’s easier to order takeout.” She snapped, “I know I look ugly right now; you don’t need to rub it in my face.”

Rin’s eyes widen in disbelief. “No, no, that’s now what I meant, Y/n. You are not ugly. I’m merely saying that you must take care of yourself…” he clarified, his voice filled with regret. As he noticed the fat tears welling up in her eyes, he sighed, realizing he had only made matters worse. The tears streamed down her cheeks, and all Rin wanted was to hold her tightly, to offer comfort. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his embrace. He let her cry, berating himself for his insensitivity. After a few minutes, he gently kissed the top of her head and whispered, “can I hire someone to take care of those things for you? Someone who can handle the cooking and cleaning, so you don’t have to worry about it?”

She pondered on the thought, and Rin had assumed it was a silent no until she quietly whispered, “okay, only until baby arrives.”

Mrs. Satomi proved to be a blessing for both Y/n and Rin. A huge weight is lifted off his shoulders when he witnesses the transformation in Y/n’s well-being. He had taken great care in selecting Mrs. Satomi, ensuring she had experience catering to pregnant women’s needs. She expertly prepared meals that satisfied Y/n’s cravings and provided both mother and baby with the essential nutrients. The joy that filled Rin’s heart was immeasurable as he beheld the radiant glow on Y/n’s face.

He would stop by thrice during the week, Saturday or Sunday, if Y/n allowed. He found comfort when she asked him if he could set up the crib in the nursery, and he rushed over with brand-new tools. He suggested they paint the nursery and take care of it all, not wanting her to help or be near the paint smell.

“Can’t believe you’re going to be a dad…” Atsumu mumbled, painting the wall. “Out of all of us, I would not have expected you to be a dad first.”

“Well, can’t have you and Osamu always taking first in everything.” Rin smirked, “you guys need to catch up. I don’t want my baby to be without friends.”

The last two weeks before Y/n’s due date, Rin lay in bed thinking, tossing, and turning. He is excited to meet their baby. He’s excited to be a father.

But through all the excitement, something else is heavy on his shoulders and heart.

His relationship with Y/n.

Throughout their eleven-month relationship, he cherished every moment with her. Y/n was someone he saw a future with and could genuinely settle down with, unlike any of his previous girlfriends. However, when she announced her pregnancy, something within him snapped, and he unleashed hurtful words that he knew he could never take back.

The regret consumed him, and he found it difficult to believe he had reacted in such a way. He despised himself for his actions, unable to forgive the outburst that had tinted their relationship.

She was still cautious around him. He knew she was protecting herself from him and respected her boundaries.

But he needed her.

He wants to be with her.

Rin grabbed his phone and texted her.

Sleeping?

Immediately she responded, no.

Rin’s fingers began typing quickly. Hear me out; the doctor said you still have two weeks left but can go into labor any day now. Can I stay over to ensure that someone is there for you, especially when Mrs. Satomi leaves for the day?

His heartbeat is racing as he waits for her reply.

Okay, I would like that too.

Day two of staying over the night.

Rin began to question if staying overnight was really a great idea.

He was horny.

He has been horny for weeks seeing Y/n’s pregnant body.

“Y/n?!” He froze at her bedroom door after hearing her sudden whimper. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes trail from her large breasts, dangerously ready to spill out of place with her nightgown. The end of her gown was beginning to rise as Y/n shifted in bed.

“Rin!” She gasped, taking a deep breath.

He is by her side instantly, afraid to touch her, “what’s wrong?”

“My… calf is cra – cramping… ah!” She lets out a deep sporadic breath.

Internally panicking, Rin knew he needed to stay calm. Taking a deep breath, he reaches for Y/n to calm her down. “Listen – listen to me, we get these muscle cramps all the time, so I’m going to try something that they do when we get these cramps on the court; you trust me?”

In that moment, Rin found her fucken adorable as she nodded, trusting him.

He takes her leg into his hand and massages the muscle with his big strong hands. Y/n tensed under his touch, biting her lower lip to mute her cries.

After a few seconds, she relaxed under his touch, her breath deep but calmer. She drops onto her back and groans, “whatever you’re doing, it’s working….”

Rin sighed in relief and smiled, but that smile faded when his eyes noticed her nightgown had risen, showing her panties. He turns his head, blushing.

“I’m okay… I’m okay now…”

His hand stops massaging her muscle, and he grabs her comforter and gently shifts her leg so he pulls the comforter over her.

A hand shoots and grabs his arm, and he looks at her, “thank you.”

He smiles and leans to kiss her forehead, “you’re wel –“ his eyes widen when she leans up and presses her lips against his.

Her small hand found its way behind his head, pressing his lips against hers.

It was a short kiss.

“Rin…” she whispered against his lips, eyes burning with the same amount of passion as his.

“Please,” he begged, and as if Y/n knew what he was begging for, she nodded.

Rin’s mouth is on hers once more, his knee dropping on the bed as he cups her face. Her hands tugged his shirt until they had to break the kiss to toss the material off. He flips the comforters off her and swiftly drags off her nightgown. Her breasts and her belly were all beautiful to him.

Grabbing her panties, he pulled them off and settled between her legs.

“Rin,” she awkwardly reached for his head, “I… my body has changed….”

“I should hope so,” he grins, kissing just above her protruding belly button. “You’re beautiful, Y/n. Really beautiful.” His fingers graze her wet folds, and he slides two fingers easily into her, thrusting gently back and forth. “You’re so wet…”

Again, her lower lip was trapped between her teeth to prevent herself from becoming a moaning mess. Rin pulls her lower lip free, “I wanna hear you.”

She swallowed before begging, “please… I need you.”

That was all he needed.

Rin positioned himself between her legs after shedding off his boxers briefs. He stroked his aching cock that was dying to be wrapped around her hot walls.

“I need you too,” he breathed before pressing the tip of his cock to her entrance and, slow and gentle, pushed until he was deep inside her. He choked back a groan, “fuck, shit… sorry baby… daddy doesn’t mean to swear….”

Y/n moans, “Rin… Oh God I… I could cum… please move…”

He held her hips firmly and gave soft, slow thrusts. It had been too long, and he wanted to savor the moment but knew himself he was close too. Embarrassingly close.

“You feel so… amazing…” he grunts, “I missed you… I missed you so much…” with one hand, he pressed his thumb to her swollen clit before rubbing it. “Yes… fuck – Y/n… cum – let’s cum together….”

“Yes!” she cried, “faster Rin….”

He sped up his hips but did not go too fast or hard.

Her pussy walls fluttered around his cock, and her cries echo her room, and that was enough to bring Rin himself over the edge.

His hips slow down in movement as they tremble, his cock aching to release cum deep inside her. He catches his breath and rubs her belly.

A few weeks ago, she allowed him to touch her belly, to feel their baby move within her. Rin’s eyes watered up at the feeling of his child.

“I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Me too,” Y/n whispered with a smile on her face.

He missed her smile so much.

Rin withdraws and heads to the bathroom to grab a wet towel, returning to clean her up.

“Can – can I stay with you?” he stuttered, “sleep with you tonight?”

Y/n reached to cup his cheek, “we would love that.”

“Don’t spoil her too much, or else I won’t be able to put her down so I can do other stuff,” Y/n grumbles, covering Rin and Emi with a blanket.

“This is daddy-daughter bonding time; it’s okay.” He whispered, motioning for her to lay down beside him. “Come cuddle with us.”

. . .

E/n: he's an ass but I think we forgive him.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu suna #hai #suna angst #suna x reader #suna smut #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou fluff #suna rintarou angst

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sirthisisa-wendys · 11 months

Note

The way I am EATING up your “Hand Her Over” series ahdkdjaklsdj 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 your Ran parts are so SO spot on, exactly how I envision him dealing with it, we need moreeeeee!!!! (please🥺)

Hand Her Over I (Part 6): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: lots of fluff

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

It's quiet.

Ran awakens right before dawn, his arms around your body and his face nuzzles your neck. With a deep inhale, he takes in your sweet scent before gently disentangling himself from you.

It's difficult - undoing himself from his protective posture - but somehow, he's able to do it without waking you. You don't even stir, and Ran's feet press against the carpet gently. It isn't until he's unfolded himself and crept into the bathroom that he realizes...

She slept through the night.

The realization doesn't blow him away at first, but then, as he stands in front of the mirror, he feels his entire body un-tense. By some miracle, the weight that used to sag on his shoulders day in and day out has lightened a bit.

Ran racks his brain for any memory of what he did last night before you went to bed. You both read a novel you'd picked out, creating a sort of book club for two. He'd massaged your feet as you told him about your day, and then put on the white noise you love so much as you fell asleep in his embrace. Nothing out of the usual was done. He'd even ordered takeout for dinner, nothing special.

So, maybe... just maybe...

Ran doesn't let his hope bloom too quickly, though. His hands turn the knobs of the tub's faucet, and water trickles out before becoming a more substantial - but quiet - stream. Making a bath for you is a treasured ritual, one that has given Ran a very easy start to the morning.

In a few minutes, the white noise would fade away, and you'd awaken before joining him in the bathroom. You'd give him sleepy kisses and whisper your daily greetings, and he'd repeat them back to you as he helped you out of your clothing.

He remembers the hurried mornings when he was in Bonten; the mornings that were filled with hisses of stubbed toes, stumbling into the kitchen to find something to eat, the urges to leave without kissing you goodbye so he could make it to the never-ending slew of meetings...

But now, he doesn't have to do that anymore. And he's fucking glad.

Your grunts and moans tear Ran away from his thoughts, and he peers at you, stretching and grumbling and perfect. But you're still sleepy. He can see it in the way your head aches to lay back on the pillow, in the way your eyes are still closed and praying for a few more minutes of rest.

"Good morning," Ran murmurs and you turn to him, eyes still closed. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept so good," you croak, and Ran grins lazily. "Want some more sleep, though."

"I can stop the bath," he offers, then turns to shut the faucet off. That never really mattered anyway. Ran joins you in the bed, letting your head rest on his crease of his elbow. "You slept straight through the night," he notes, and you open your eyes, shocked.

"You're lying."

"Not," he replies, tapping your nose with one finger. "You didn't even wake up when I got out of the bed." Ran can see the hope blooming behind your own eyes, and he tries with all of his might to stuff his back down. This could just be a fluke. You might go back to the crying fits tonight, and then, he'd be right back at square one. Still devastated.

"You think," you begin, but it's cut off by a long yawn. "You think we can go to the bakery downtown for breakfast?"

"Of course," Ran whispers, kissing your forehead and pulling you close. "Whatever you want." You hum and fall back asleep, your hands bunched up in Ran's shirt.

"You should grow your hair back out." Ran stops mid-bite.

"Huh?"

"Your hair," you murmur, pointing your fork at his head. "You should grow it out again." Ran chuckles, trying not to think about himself with long purple hair.

"And have a purple, long-haired husband?" He shakes his head gently, Rindou's hair flashing in his mind. They only had a similar haircut one time for a reason. "I don't think so."

"You don't have to dye it again," you add, shrugging. "Could grow your roots out and cut it like you have it now." When you shrug again, Ran watches the straps of the sundress slide around on your shoulders. And he can't help but think - mid-conversation, no less - how beautiful you'd look if they inched down a little, and--

"Would you two like anything else?" Ran's gaze moves to the waiter, and he looks between the two of you.

"Can I have another strawberry smoothie?" you ask, and the waiter nods before looking at Ran.

"I'm alright, thanks." Once the waiter is gone, Ran looks back over to you, and he watches the way your red lips curl around the straw. It's not sexual in any way but Ran can't help but think about how lucky he is.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" You look up at Ran in surprise, and your face brightens immediately. And it takes his fucking breath away.

"You tell me all the time, my love," you reply sweetly. "Why? Are you forgetting that you love me?" You're teasing, but Ran's heart still skips a beat.

"No," he breathes, taking your hand in his. "I'm just making sure I tell you often." He kisses your fingers, noting that they're a little cold, then he warms them up with his own fingers. You smile even more.

"Can I tell you something?" you whisper, a mischievous look in your eyes.

"I love secrets," Ran jokes, leaning forward. You lean forward and Ran expects you to whisper something scandalous, but you kiss his lips instead. The waiter comes by right at that moment, but if he hadn't, Ran would have said something absolutely scandalous.

He's still considering it as you both walk out of the bakery hand in hand. "You know what," he begins, looking at the colorful window display in a boutique shop. "We could make a few stops on the way home..."

"Yeah?" You follow his gaze, and smirk. "Shopping?"

"Maybe..."

Ran's devious plan comes together in the dressing room of the boutique, his hands roaming up your thighs in an exaggerated way. The garters brush against his fingers and he shivers, delighting in this image of you.

“This reminds me of better times.”

“Does it?” You look down at him, and he chuckles, taking in your lusty expression.

"Why don't you do this..." Ran takes his credit card and slips it between the lace of the belt. "Buy this one. Then buy another one that makes you happy. I'll be waiting outside for you."

Goosebumps follow the brush of his fingers across the tender flesh of your ass, and Ran leaves the store, a twinge of excitement settling in his stomach. You emerge minutes later, holding your items with pride.

"Did you get what you wanted?"

"Of course," you answer, kissing his cheek and slipping his card into his pocket. "Would you like to see it?"

"Do I like to breathe?" Ran jokes, and you take his hand, lacing your warm fingers through his.

"Ran!"

"My hair's still wet," Ran answers when you call his name.

"I need you," you call out, and Ran tosses a towel over his head, rubbing it back and forth hurriedly as he leaves the bathroom.

"Coming," he replies, stepping into the dimly lit room and expecting something other than what he's met with. "B-babe?" You're lying in the bed, covered in a blush pink lingerie set Ran's never seen before. It must've been the one you bought when he wasn't in the store, but flashes of your wedding night come back in quick bursts.

"I thought you'd like this since..." You run your hands up the garment and smile coyly. "It might remind you of 'better times'." Ran's towel drops from his head and lands on the floor behind him. "You looked just like that, too. All awed and..." You point a swirling finger at Ran's body. "Aroused." His eyes look down at the towel around his waist, and of course, there's an indication of his enjoyment of the moment. You crook a finger at him and whisper,

"Come and get it; if you dare." Ran's hesitation lasts for longer than it should have. When he doesn't make a hasty path toward you, he knows he has to ask. He knows he has to make sure.

"I..." He pulls himself together, and his brows furrow. "We can take things slow."

"Never said we couldn't," you murmur back, propping your head up on an open hand.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Never said you would." God, Ran feels so childish saying these things; he knows you know he loves you and wouldn't dare hurt you, but... The breath catches in Ran's throat, and he's unsure of what to say. And for all of the tears he's shed in private, he's not sure why he's crying. Everything's better now, right?

"Oh," you coo, watching Ran tear up and scrub at his face furiously. Ran hears you get up from the bed and feels your hands wrapping around his wrists, leading him toward the comfortable sheets and pillows. When his cheek rests against your skin, Ran can't contain himself. Crying is not his thing, but when he feels you, touches you, and remembers all of the years he's spent by your side, he's overwhelmed.

"I'm... sorry," he hiccups, tucking his face into your body in shame. "I shouldn't be crying."

"That's bullshit," you whisper, stroking his hair lovingly like his mother used to. "Cry whenever you feel like it." Ran doesn't add how he's felt the overpowering need to be strong for you always, but he senses that you understand and you love him despite it.

He finds himself curling into your embrace and lulling himself into a night of sleep he's unable to fight. It's warm, it's comfortable, almost exactly like your wedding night when you both collapsed in the bed, utterly exhausted... but full of joy.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader

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