im never gonna see her face in the same hallways we walked but i hope that she knows how much i loved her, even though i was the only one who felt that way
no matter what he does; he can cut his hair, tattoo his red eyeliner, dye his ends blue, become a world-famous soccer player, find meaning to life... that man will always have a visceral reaction to your name.
they say that hair holds memories.
when micha was still your sweet boy, you would take care of his hair for him.
it was long and blond—natural and beautiful, in all its glory. you'd brush through it, time after time.
his hair was so well-kept, even when long and left open while playing soccer, because it was you who tended to it. you'd rake your fingers through it while he bent over the bathtub, laughing at how he groaned in discomfort, yet refused to take a break.
you'd tousle it with a towel, trying to dry it a little before letting it air dry. on winter evenings, you'd blow dry it, brushing it out as he'd tell you about his day. begrudgingly, but it was progress.
when he truly just wanted to chop it all off—start over, or end it there—, you'd be extra gentle. you'd let him sit with his back against the bathtub, his head leant back slightly so that you could lean over him and massage the soap in and out of his hair from the front. he'd never admit it—and fuck, he wishes he did—, but it felt nice.
you'd tousle it with a towel from the ends, to not cause more distress or pressure at his head. you'd blow dry it and brush it out as usual, being careful to not pull at knots too hard.
finally, before he'd fall asleep in your arms, you'd braid his hair.
one long, loose but neat braid. he grew quite fond of it, over the amount of draining days he saw, before he went pro.
before he went pro and ditched you.
so yes, kaiser, the new-gen 11 prodigy, thinks about you sometimes.
whenever he comes home from a rough day on the field, and his hair is greasy, and it's itchy, and he's hyperaware of how it's touching his skin, he doesn't tie it up in a braid.
one, because it's now cut into uneven chunks. and two, because it would remind him of you.
you, who treated him with such tenderness and kindness that he had never seen or felt before. only dreamt of.
you, who adored his long, blond hair.
you, whose name would forever be a chapter unopened in his book of life.
you, who thought he was beautiful, even before all the hair cutting, hair colouring, tattooing and finding meaning in life.
hair dye, tattoos, fame, reasons to live—they all fade. but his memory of you does not falter. what a burden to bear; a reason to live deterred.
but is there truly any meaning to life, if he's lost you?
sae itoshi x gn!reader — you’ve managed to unlock sae’s phone, thinking it was yours.
: 1.0k words, fluff, profanity & insults, mentions of fistfighting
truthfully, you’re just as astounded as everyone else when the itoshi brothers agree to their mother’s plans: a catchup between the three of you childhood friends given that sae would be in japan for the next few weeks, and that his and rin’s schedules were miraculously cleared out on the same days. of all things rare and struck with hot iron, it leads you to where you are now—lovely weather, drink in hand, dining al fresco for brunch as you peacefully tune out whatever back-and-forth the two athletes were onto this time.
leave it to the itoshi brothers to make you question the legacy of japan’s soccer. especially when the conversation is about whose fucking bangs were uglier. (you’re sure sae meant to instigate a fight with his comment: “cut your hair, rin. it’s too long for shit.”)
you’re not as astounded when a stray cat seemingly takes pity on you, staring with its head tilted and its eyes filled with sympathy. you stare back and scrunch your nose at it, not minding if sae notices from across the table. he should be more preoccupied with rin, who is a few seconds away from leaping over to his side and starting a fistfight.
not that it matters. it’s not uncommon for rin to get worked up. “please save it for when we bill out,” you say, a hand on his bicep to calm him down. he grumbles like a kid who’s been forced to take his naptime, but nonetheless he listens to your words. he’s not that immature, after all.
and truthfully, you’d confess—you’ve never been more at peace than right now. always caught in their crossfire, the chaos is far better than their icy cold silence, the kind that had you treading on fragile glass with every small step you wanted to take to them. as silly as it sounds, perhaps this was their way of making it up to you, who constantly gets stuck in the middle.
“where the fuck do you think you’re going?” rin snarls, the two of you watching sae get up from his seat. you don't miss the way he takes his wallet with him.
“the toilet, you idiot,” sae retorts as he leaves your table to head inside.
bullshit. at least half of it is. he’s gonna pay the fucking bill before he comes back.
silence ensues between you and the younger brother, the two of you turning your heads and glancing at one another before reaching for your phones in lightning speed. “that fucking whore. we said we’d split.”
“your brother hasn’t done math for years, rin. he doesn’t know how to divide by three—should we count the service charges?”
“no. he was the only asshole on our table, anyways.”
you look over to the restroom from outside like a delirious stalker, noting that sae hasn’t left for the counter. you don’t pay attention to when your phone conducts its biometric scan, feeling it vibrate in your palms at the unsuccessful attempt as it brings you to the keypad. you type out your incredibly original password with muscle memory—your birthday in numerical digits—and open your screen for the online banking app.
except you have no idea where the fuck it is. since when did your home screen look like this?
“huh?” you question, swiping left and right to the foreign layout. you speak to rin, “cover mine for me first, please. my phone is acting up.”
“roger that,” the athlete responds, inputting both of your shares and confirming the transaction. he hits ‘send’ and the mission is accomplished, assuming sae doesn’t send the money back. the device in your hand vibrates at the new notification: your account has received xxxxx japanese yen from r*n i***hi.
wait a moment..?
rin can’t mistake sae’s number for yours. that’d be stupid, even for him. you know both yours and sae’s contacts are saved, and he had to confirm the payment details a second time before sending it out.
unless—holy shit—
“that’s my phone, dumbass,” a voice quips. you look to see japan’s greatest treasure in all his glory, wallet in hand as he gives you an undecipherable look. you put his device down immediately like you’re allergic to his belongings.
“ah, sorry—” you say, scrambling for your own phone on the table so you can pay rin back. that explains why the layout was unfamiliar to you. god forbid you ever need to go through sae’s home screen again for anything; you’d take forever figuring out which app was in what folder.
you stop typing.
never mind the fact that you weren’t on your phone. how did you even get as far as unlocking sae’s? you have no clue what his password is (nor do you know rin’s, for that matter). you only know yours; your birthday.
your birthday—you did try opening his phone with your password. you didn’t get the numbers wrong when you did.
and it worked. your password worked. that was the only way you would’ve gotten as far as his home screen—oh.
oh my fucking god.
his password is your birthday.
sae itoshi’s password is the same as yours—your fucking birthday. the same fucking numbers in the same fucking order. not his birthday, or rin’s, or his favorite soccer player from when he was a kid.
yours.
you drop your phone unceremoniously, no longer trusting yourself to pay anything with the way your brain is lagging. your face is warm, cheeks hot and eyes wide. god bless rin, too sidetracked by his messages to notice how you’re sinking further into your seat.
and you know sae; known him for most of your life, known him long enough to know that this means something—that this meant you mean something to him. do you? do you mean something?
your head spins dizzy at the implications, and you make the mistake of looking in his direction while the realization washes over your features. your eyes meet his in a steely teal, inevitably so, and the older brother stares at you like its confirmation.
he knows. he’s looking at you like he wanted you to know. like he was waiting for you. like he has you right where he wants you to be.
(if you were paying more attention, you would’ve seen yourself in his wallpaper.)
“figured something out?” he asks, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he quirks his brow.
hesitantly, you nod.
“good.” sae leans back, just in time for the waiter to return with the bill and his card.
where during the biggest party of the year, the emo nerd you only found out existed yesterday finally makes a move!
tags! f!reader, teruhashi-like reader (but no one will compare to the perfect pretty girl tho) pining, slight stalking, kinda cheating choso wears glasses hell yeah, emo!nerd!loser!choso ngh, slight nsfw, y2k!au
a/n! im back, enjoy luvlies ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
credits! art: X:(Aransmind), and dividers by @angeliicide
high school in the 2000s was pretty much a living stereotype. there were specific cliques, a social hierarchy, drama, gossip, parties, and hookups. you of course, were above all that. not in the way you'd expect, though.
as leader of your 3-person clique, you were the undisputed and distinguished monarch of your high school.
hair always perfect, nails always done, flawless outfit even if you were out partying at 2am, heavenly body, spectacular makeup that highlighted your god-carved face, always with your favorite drink in your hand, and of course, people never blocked your group's way.
there were of course rumors:
"the other day i saw her at the mall, and i swear to god she had a golden aura, with cloud-like wings behind her"
"what, you're wrong, one time she was walking downtown, and at the victoria's secret store, the employees tried to recruit her to be an angel"
"you're all wrong. she literally doesn't need any of that. her parents own all the major companies back where she lives. i don't even know what she's doing here, this high school sucks"
"you know, i heard that when she went to a concert, the staff backstage invited her on stage just because she was that jaw dropping"
"not even close. once someone called her 'perfect flower-shop pretty' but like 5 guys told them that she was a wildflower, because her beauty doesn't even compare to those, and puts them all to SHAME"
"she literally got invited to the booth of the charli xcx boiler room, please"
needless to say, you had it all.
except... a decent boyfriend.
naoya zenin. literally the name of your nightmares. even god's favorite can't have it all, can she?
na*ya was genuinely the asshole of your darkest times. being forced to be his girlfriend by both of your families, you absolutely despised him. you had standards, for god's sake! the asshole had nothing going for him apart from his family's generational wealth. totally not your type
if you could go back in time in all of history, you'd definitely go back to the very first day of 10th grade, hit yourself with a bat, and stay the hell home, so that your eyes never got to see his unfortunate looks.
the worst part? being the school's queen, you couldn't openly hate him, his family owned the town, basically, and cherry on top? people thought you looked NICE together. please. as if such a neanderthal could ever stand a chance to be with a perfect beauty.
you couldn't count the amount of times you'd caught na*ya kissing others at parties with both hands, either, so you'd definitely considered if he played for the other team, with the amount of misogynistic comments and the time you swore he was kissing a dude at a party, even though he claimed he was drunk, drunk words are sober thoughts after all
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
your hatred towards your boyfriend was thank god, shared. choso kamo was, although, described as:
"uhhh who...?"
"oh i think i was paired with him for band, sick drum player"
"he's nice, his younger brother is like super popular, too"
uhhh he was, shy, to say the least, blending into the backroom of the messy art room and band class only sharing a few classes with the tall, dark-haired guy with glasses, never overly noticing him, always busy fixing your hair and gossiping away
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
choso was distraught, the emo, drum-playing, fine ass loser was completely and utterly devastated
having seen you ever since you walked into late into his art class, with a perfectly coordinated sparkly outfit, that complimented your body, swinging your hair creating swirls in the air, and sitting parallel to him as he worked, he has never stopped noticing everything you do, your smell, cute hairstyles, perfect hands and sugary but angular smile, he was, to say the least, swooned, he had memorized your schedule, stalked all of your instagrams, your 100 tiktok accounts, and even found your secret fanpages
and he did not know how you didn't notice
the way he got pink as the blush on your cheeks whenever he was in a room with you, how he always held the door open until you walked through and the way he downright stared at you, entranced
you hadn't noticed
well, who could blame you, a perfect pretty girl does have to keep up appearances, and had no time for losers like him
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
you didn't even know choso existed, you were too busy, organizing parties, staying on top of all the drama, and fighting with the nuisance that calls himself your boyfriend
that was, until the time of the biggest party of the year rolled around, which meant that you'd of course, plan it
with your parents gone, and alcohol bought, you'd spent the days decorating and preparing for the perfect party on friday
in your master bedroom, you lay down on your bed, browsing through last year's yearbook, on your silk sheets, planning on who to invite, with this being the biggest party of the year, there was no room to be caught lacking, so your friends were helping you prep everything as well
"okay, so the football team was invited, ugh, anota unfortunately too, the drama club, the basketball team, the tennis team, my hallway crushes, you guys' hallway crushes, the cool people from other grades..." you rambled, getting to the end of the impossibly long list, megan thee stallion playing on your rooms's speakers, golden light skimming through the walls, twirling your hair in circles, "i still feel like there's too little people, though"
that's when you got a brilliant idea, "hey... what if we skim through the yearbook and invite our hear me outs?" followed by an agreement from your two friends
you spent the evening ordering coffee and drawing hearts around new ones who were hot, and writing their name in your pretty little handwriting
that's when you got to the band club's pictures
you'd never even considered emo boys before
but damn... that brown haired guy...
he definitely changed your mind
you searched for his name
c... k... oh! right there
choso kamo: band club, art club, art honor society
you stopped dead in your tracks
how the hell have you never noticed before, damn! did he not get invited to most parties? well... his permanent anxious expression, dark circles and twin tails may or may not be the cause...
your friends did notice you staring mouth open at a picture, sitting upright, they took the book from your grip
"who are you looking at, anyways? close your mouth, a fly is gonna get in there"
how could you explain to your friends that the finest man on the planet was in that book, and you didn't even know his name before??
sure, popular girls and nerd losers don't get along... typically... you were sure you could make it work
so, after a session of screaming and surprises, your friends (with the hatred of a thousand suns towards naoya) decided to grudgingly invite him, not because he was kind of fine! you wanted to see how an emo loser behaved when surrounded by actual people, of course!
i mean, that's what you told yourself anyways
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
the day of the party rolled around, having spent hours dolling up, finding the perfect outfit to compliment your hair, skin and body, and manifestations to get naoya away from you
and maybe, just maybe
choso, on the other hand was a nervous wreck
having changed his outfit thrice, rotating between three different t-shirts and seven jeans, he settled on a nine-inch nails shirt, with a deep purple long sleeve underneath, dark jeans and with yuji's recommendation, let his shoulder-length hair down, giving it a messy and ruffled look
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
your house was floor to ceiling in decoration, lights flashing, glittering ceilings, kaleidoscopic floors, bar lined with glasses and bottles, and blasting music from the walls and excitement surrounding the growing crowd
you were, to say the least, the glowing center of attention, right in the center of the dance floor, where the dancing incremented and heat radiated
you noticed, from the corner of you eye, through the drunken crowd, a girl pressed against your boyfriend, gripping his arm, drink in hand
you grabbed your friend, dragged her towards them, and promptly bitch-slapping his sorry ass
"finally, i can be done with you, thank god we're over"
you turned around on your heels and went for another drink
making your way to the secluded bar, you bumped into a tall figure
"watch where you're going idiot," not in the mood to deal with any other issue
when he turned around, you quickly recognized the pale skin, chiseled features and face tattoo, as choso, who grabbed you by the waist to prevent you from falling
"sorry! i just came here, uhh... sorry for being in the way!" he stammered, as he looked into your glistening eyes
he rambled on, but you could not believe that the same needy guy who you only noticed a few days ago looked so... good...?
"um, sorry... are you okay?"
shit, you had completely forgotten the situation you were in right now
"yeah uh... choso, right?"
"wow! you... know my... name?"
"don't get any ideas, loser" but you stumbled, someone bumping into you, pushing you deeper into his embrace
you were drunk, sure but why was there such a warm feeling in your chest? heat spread to your face, but ew! this band kid nerd was touching you right now!
distancing yourself, mumbling something about his shirt, you gladly greeted others arriving at the same time, and yuji, bashfully surrounded by some girls
choso stood there, admiring your presence near him, you actually acknowledged him! that was enough to send him into the moon, and he was decided that that interaction alone was enough to fill his heart for at least 2 months
freeing himself from his entourage, yuji made his way to his brother
"choso you gotta do something more that letting her humble you! what the hell, do you like getting degraded or something?"
choso blushed, looking away, away at you, all the lights shining on you, lighting up your features and expression, when you suddenly looked at him, with the sweetest smile he had ever seen from a mean girl like you
"choso! in serious, go talk to her" yuji exclaimed, shaking him tightly
choso was seriously entranced, being overwhelmed by the ambient of the party and your entoxicating presence
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
"mghh" you moaned into his mouth, pressing your chest to his, his glasses askew, straddling his lap, as you grabbed his hands, pressing them against the headboard
choso didn't even recall how he got into this situation but he was definitely NOT complaining
he maybe remembered girls pushing him, laughing to the bar, giving confused looks to yuji and looking for you in the back
he also remembered the acid taste in his mouth, drinking the bright liquid and it dripping down to his stomach, soaking his shirt and the floor
he also remembered how you yelled at some point, getting his drink spilled on your expensive outfit, and you promptly giving him the meanest stare on earth as you headed to your room to change
then, he remembered chasing after you, opening the door, profusely apologizing, as he is met with the sight of you, in your underwear, cussing him out
as he was about to run off, he felt how you grabbed his hands, roughly pulling him in and locking the door, swearing to hod that if he left you'd make his life hell
as you continued your drunken kisses down to your bed, choso felt the alcohol taking over, making his face red, and himself sweaty
you stopped your kisses, sucking his neck instead, but as you worked your way down, meeting the drenched patch of his shirt
he let out a whimper as you settled on his lap, taking a look at his flustered face, you grinned, looking at his disheveled face, crooked glasses and messy hair
"you're so pathetic you know" you murmured, looking annoyed, but the blush dusting your face contradicted your expression, and choso's hands trailed over your lower waist, you gently contoured his face, tracing over his face tattoo and re adjusting his glasses but you felt a weight shift in between your legs
"..." choso blushed a shade of red, looking at everything except you
"no way you seriously got hard because of that" you mockingly laughed, tightening your arms around his neck, softly caressing his nape
"you're so mean, beautiful"
that earned an even deeper blush out of you, hiding your face in his neck
"what? your 'boyfriend' never said things like this to such a beauty like you?"
"ugh shut up! unless you want me to tell everyone you're a virgin and kick you out shut up..." you held the sides of his face and forced him to kiss you, earring a little whine out of him
"what, you'd never been drunk before?"
"n-no..."
he was so pathetic, and that turned you on endlessly, what would your friends say about this, what if someone walked through the door now? what would naoya call you??
"ngh... don't worry about all that princess.." choso drunkenly in between kisses whispered
shit, you said that out loud... but how could you worry now? as those sweet, drunken words were nicer that everything naoya had ever said to you
choso heard a soft sniffle from on top of him
he hurriedly held you in his arms, wiping away your tears, holding you tight, "h-hey, what happened? did i do something? i'm so sorry, i would never hurt you, sweetheart.."
"you're so dumb, cho...so..." you muffled lightly punching against his surprisingly toned chest, but there was no edge to your words, and choso knew that
he softly smiled, "i'm not going anywhere, if you don't want me to, baby"
you then pressed the lightest and sweetest kiss to his mouth, catching him by surprise, as he melted into your sour, alcoholic taste
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
choso's next weeks were something out of his dreams, he bagged the prettiest girl in town, having her on his arm 24/7, followed by her little clique of friends, her yapping his ear off, he was in paradsise
also, how could he complain, when you two got home, he always got rewarded with an hour long makeout shesh everytime
< / ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ / >
a/n! im soso proud of this onee, also i changed my layout ( ܸ. .)՞՞ hope you guys liked itttt ♡xx
SYNOPSIS ― you are assigned as the cupid for a stubborn itoshi that keeps trying to run away from his fate. turns out, you're his soulmate.
love to you, had always looked like arrows.
not because that was what cupids used, but because arrows understood something humans didn't.
an arrow never hesitated.
once released, it flew forward no matter how strong the wind became. it trusted the path laid before it. it trusted that eventually, somehow, it would reach the place it was meant to be.
humans were different.
humans doubted, they hesitated. they ran away from feelings until their hearts practically chased after them.
and rin itoshi was perhaps the most frustrating example of that you had ever encountered. the first time you were assigned to him, you nearly returned the file immediately.
according to fate, rin already had a soulmate. the thread connecting them was strong, stable, and impossible to miss. assignments like those were usually easy. all you had to do was guide the two people toward each other and make sure nothing disrupted the connection.
simple.
except rin somehow managed to avoid every opportunity destiny handed him.
every time fate arranged an encounter, he would leave before it happened. every time someone attempted a conversation, he would cut it short. every time life pushed him toward another person, he seemed determined to walk in the opposite direction.
after several months, you found yourself spending more time complaining about him than actually helping him.
which was why, on one particularly irritating afternoon, you ended up sitting on a rooftop overlooking the football field while muttering insults under your breath.
below, players moved across the grass in bursts of colour and motion. among them stood rin, completely unaware that a supernatural being was questioning his intelligence from several metres above.
or at least, that was what you thought.
because suddenly he stopped, and looked directly at you.
humans weren't supposed to see cupids. that wasn't a suggestion. it was a rule. a very old rule. one that had existed for longer than most civilizations.
yet rin's gaze locked onto yours without hesitation.
his expression remained as unimpressed as ever.
"why are you sitting on a roof?"
then, somehow, the first conversation between you ended with him questioning why you had wings and you demanding to know why he could see them.
neither question received a proper answer.
from that day onward, however, rin developed a habit of finding you.
you would be monitoring threads of fate from a tree branch, only for him to appear beneath you. you would be floating above a busy street while working, only to hear his voice somewhere nearby. you would be halfway through helping another couple and suddenly notice him watching from across the road.
at first, you found it annoying, then you found it strange. eventually, you found yourself looking for him before he found you.
days became weeks.
weeks became months.
he never begged to know his future. he never asked who he was destined to marry. he never requested miracles or favours or secrets about fate.
instead, he asked questions that seemed completely unrelated to your job. he wanted to know whether clouds felt soft when you flew through them. he wanted to know if stars looked closer from the sky.
he wanted to know whether your wings ever hurt after carrying you for so many years. sometimes his curiosity caught you off guard because it wasn't directed toward what you were.
it was directed toward who you were. and nobody had ever done that before.
one evening, while the two of you sat together on a rooftop overlooking the city, rin asked a question that left you unusually quiet.
the sunset had painted the horizon gold. light spilled across distant buildings like melted honey while the first stars slowly appeared overhead.
for several minutes neither of you spoke.
"are cupids lonely?"
the question struck harder than any arrow ever could.
you had spent centuries helping other people fall in love.
you had watched first meetings and first confessions. you had watched relationships begin beneath spring blossoms and continue through entire lifetimes. you had stood beside thousands of love stories without ever becoming part of one.
before rin asked, you had never really considered what that meant.
your fingers tightened around the bow resting across your lap.
for a moment you watched the city below instead of looking at him.
"sometimes," you admitted.
he shifted slightly closer.
it should have been the moment you realized something dangerous was happening. instead, you continued spending time with him. you continued laughing during conversations that lasted far longer than they should have. you continued memorizing details without meaning to.
the way he unconsciously reached for your hand whenever you stood near the edge of a building.
the way he always brought an extra drink despite knowing cupids technically didn't need one.
the realization arrived during spring.
flowers had begun blooming throughout the city. warm breezes carried petals through the air while sunlight lingered longer each evening.
the answer was impossible to avoid.
you were in love with him.
you were not supposed to fall in love with the person you guided. cupids existed to lead others toward happiness, not to place themselves at the center of the story.
yet every feeling inside you refused to listen.
every goodbye felt slightly disappointing because it meant waiting until the next time you saw him.
for the first time since becoming a cupid, you genuinely didn't know what to do.
when rin found you later that evening, he noticed immediately that something was wrong.
the sky above had darkened into deep shades of blue. stars glittered overhead while the city glowed beneath you like scattered constellations brought down to earth.
you sat silently at the edge of a rooftop.
eventually, he spoke.
"you're thinking too much."
you laughed despite yourself.
"that's rich coming from you."
a faint 'tch' appeared on his face.
the sight made your chest ache.
then rin suddenly exhaled.
"i think i figured something out."
his gaze remained fixed on the city, and for the first time since meeting him, he looked uncertain.
"every time fate tried pushing me toward someone," he said slowly, "it felt wrong."
rin's fingers curled slightly against the rooftop surface.
"i kept thinking maybe there was something wrong with me."
"then i met you."
...
all those months spent trying to guide him toward his soulmate suddenly felt absurd.
you had searched everywhere except the place fate had been pointing from the beginning.
the answer had been sitting beside you on rooftops.
rin reached toward you slowly.
the instant your fingers intertwined, light spread through the golden thread connecting you.
and after months of circling around each other, after countless conversations and lingering glances and feelings neither of you understood, both of you had finally arrived.
theartofmadeline
dededos
baratheonpilled
areudirty
titsay
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
