Won't sleep in a crib. Won't let a maid touch him. Won't nap unless your scent is wrapped around him like a blanket. Constantly needs your clothes, your skin, your warmth.
He also looks just like Rin. Teal big innocent eyes, pouty lips, that familiar innocent face that Rin had when he was a baby.
And he also wants only you.
You are always carrying him. Holding him. Feeding him. Rocking him. Bathing him. Your arms ache constantly but you don't let go.
You barely sleep.
You barely breathe.
Wheneve Rin walks into the bedroom and sees you— hair messy, shirt stained with milk, one arm cradling the baby while the other flips through pediatric guides—
And something inside his chest twists painfully.
He misses you.
The old you.
The soft wife who used to hug him from behind when he cooked, who used kissed his neck before he left for games, who nagged him about not folding towels properly.
Now all your attention goes to your son.
His son.
So one night when he finds you half asleep in the rocking chair, with his son asleep in your arms—Rin kneels in front of you.
"Give him to me," he whispers.
You stir.
"He just fell asleep, Rin—"
"I'll keep him asleep," he says, firmer now, arms already outstretched. "You need to rest."
Slowly, reluctantly, you transfer the baby into his arms.
Rin stands and begins to pace, copying the movements he's watched you repeat countless times. His large hand pats his son's back in steady rhythm. The baby sighs and curls into his chest, instantly soothed.
Rin exhales.
Then he whispers—"You selfish little thing."
The baby yawns.
"You stole her from me," Rin mutters, jaw tightening. "Now she's always tired. Always sick. Can't even smile the same."
But when he looks down and sees that tiny, pouty version of himself, the bitterness dissolves.
Because damn it— The baby is perfect.
And he looks exactly like Rin.
Which you never stop reminding him.
"Why—" you always groan during diaper changes, "why does he have your pout, your eyes, your anger, your everything? I did all the work. I carried him inside my body for 10 months. I gave birth. Why does he look just like you?!"
Rin just always smirks in response and says "You love the way I look," and presses a kiss to your temple.
But what truly breaks him?
Your eyes.
Bloodshot. Dull. Exhausted.
But you still don't stop trying.
You cook him lunch sometims. You pack his practice bag. You insist he sleeps before games. You smile and say you're fine.
But Rin sees it.
Every silent wince. Every clumsy stumble. Every moment you fall asleep standing near the crib.
And he hates it.
He hates how much you give.
He hates how much the baby takes.
He sighs as he lays his sleeping son carefully on the crib and covers his body with a soft blanket. And after pressing a soft kiss on his son's tiny head, he walks towards you. You're currently struggling to fold a tiny onesie, your fingers trembling. Rin just gently takes it from your hands.
"Lie down."
"I'm okay."
"You're not."
He lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the bed, tucking you in, pulling the blanket to your chin as if you are the fragile one now.
Then he leans down and whispers to your sleeping face—
"I miss you. But I love you too much to ask for more."
And later, when the baby wakes, Rin picks him up with one arm and studies his sleepy expression.
"You're both the death of me," he murmurs.
The baby blinks up at him.
Rin exhales, pressing a soft kiss to his son's forehead.
"I love you, you little thief," he admits quietly.
"But give her back to me sometime, okay?"
The baby yawns again.
And Rin smiles—tired, resigned, hopelessly in love.
ur bf rin is so slobbery haha content | fluff, kissing, cutesie i luv rin im marrying him
the boy is an absolute slobber monster. well, that’s what you always said to him. he’d get so angry he’d tell you he had to “take five” to recuperate. and you always found it utterly hilarious. it must be discussed just how obscene the issue was.
case i.
the morning light drifting into the bedroom woke rin up immediately. his head had been nestled deep into your chest. it appears he must’ve had a nice sleep since . . . well, there was a huge blotch of wetness on your shirt.
rin slapped a hand to his mouth, his face immediately burning into a humiliating shade of red. he scurried off the bed and needed to relax his viciously tense body immediately. do what he always does in the mornings — meditate.
unfortunately, from his frantic scurrying, you had woken up. and rin didn’t even leave the room in time before you groggily spoke.
“g’morning rin,” you mumbled, not noticing the stain on you just yet.
but to rin’s dismay, you eventually did. you had straightened up, relaxing your morning stiffness. your eyes lolled down to your chest that had that blotch of drool.
“…huh?” you muttered to yourself, your mind still adjusting to having just woken up.
case ii.
“rin, you’re doing it again,” you giggle.
rin had been chewing on the string of his hoodie, trying to focus on match footage. but your teasing giggle knocked him straight out of his head.
“doing what?” he said defensively, the hoodie string falling straight out his mouth.
you pointed a finger at the tiny string of saliva that lingered on his bottom lip. “drooling.”
rin sat up immediately, grimacing with utter contempt. “shut up, idiot. it’s not drooling. don’t call it that.”
at this point you could only laugh chestfully. “then what is it?” you say, wiping a joyful tear from your eye.
“it’s—” crap. rin didn’t know what to say. the words glitched on his tongue. it literally was drool. “just . . . go away!” he immediately stormed off, boiling with anger.
case iii.
rin had never kissed someone other than you. that must be known.
“mm,” you mumble appreciatively with his lips against yours.
“love . . . you,” rin murmured, his tongue striping along your bottom lip.
the faint sounds of the television pulsed alongside your guys’ smacking of lips. you tried guiding him, tried giving him implications on what to do. but he was a hothead — he apparently knew best.
his tongue was basically bruising your mouth. at one point it was just your teeth bashing against his. did he even notice how bad he was at this . . .?
wetness suddenly began oozing from your lips. it definitely wasn’t your own saliva that begun coating your chin.
kiss , smooch , kiss —
you had to pull back. so you did, leaving rin a little confused. you wiped your chin with the back of your hand and inspected it afterwards.
HAH. drool.
“rin you’re basically eating the bottom of my face,” you snicker.
rin genuinely gasped. his eyes twitched at the sight of his drool on your hand.
“oh my god—”
“no no,” you interrupt his frantic breathing. “t’s okay rinnie.”
“it’s disgusti—”
you interrupted him again — this time with a kiss. you pulled back, wiping his bottom lip with your thumb. all he could do was stare at you with wide eyes and glossy parted lips.
“it’s fine. really,” you reassure him. “i like your slobbery kisses. ‘cause they’re from you.”
rin’s face burned, his eyes sparkling.
“ew, you’re gross,” he replied, though with a lack of true bite.
aw, rin itoshi is so slobbery. he should be ashamed! though, you did have a soft spot for it . . . even if it was kind of gross, it meant something special. all those times his tongue would idly loll out his mouth, and the times he’d be vigorously sucking on the sleeve of his hoodie, it only sparked one thought in you.
fem! reader, you & rin have a son (unnamed), inspired by the bllk exhibition pics of his and sae's childhood room where theres bite marks on basically everything bc of rin LOL
you've heard of those jokes that some people make over their child resembling their father more than their mother, despite her having to bear all the troubles that come with pregnancy. you were a little prepared for it, not that you would have been unhappy with a mini rin.
ironically, your son bears all your features, from your hair colour to the shape of your nose, and the only tangible proof that rin had any part in his creation was his teal eyes and the itoshi family's signature underlashes.
but, it seems like your son inherited more than just rin's pretty eyes.
by this, you mean his propensity to drool almost excessively and gnaw on all his toys and, well, just about anything he can get his little mouth on. you know it's likely (definitely) because he's teething, but you kind of prefer to blame it on rin so you can tease him about it.
"baby, let's not chew on that…" you gently pry your son's mouth away from the toy, little whines of protest as you inspect the little indents on it, before setting it down and lifting him onto your lap.
your son's mouth instinctively finds your shirt to gnaw on, his saliva wetting the fabric. you would be more annoyed if he wasn't so cute…
"are his teeth hurting again?" rin suddenly materialises next to you, his shadow looming over. he leans down to press a light kiss on your forehead and to take your bitey child away from your poor shirt.
you hum in reply as you watch rin use a handkerchief to wipe his drooly mouth, your son babbling in response.
"must get it from you," you tease with a lighthearted smile, rin rolling his eyes in response.
"yeah yeah," he grumbles, sitting down. your baby, having exhausted himself from all the biting he was trying to do, sleepily coos, eyes drooping while he gets comfortable in rin's arms. you stroke his chubby cheek, leaning your head on rin's shoulder as the both of you watch him drift off to dreamland.
Rin loves biting things. No matter what it is— the second it’s in his vicinity and Rin is oh-so sureee that nobody is watching him he’ll start nibbling on it. Whether it be the hem of his football jersey or the stick of a popsicle, trust me when I say that it’ll definitely be coated in his drool when he’s done with it.
This habit of his even extends from shirts and sticks to you. A living breathing person.
You like to refer to yourself as one of Rin’s victims. One of his many victims.
Occasionally, when you're casually scrolling on your phone, not really paying any attention to your surroundings Rin will sneak up on you. Stand still for a second while he watches you in your element. His eyes narrow before he goes in for a taste.
You feel Rins tongue drag across your neck, preparing the area and before you can even let out a sound—
Chomp.
He’ll bite down.
“Seriously Rin, what are you doing?” You sigh as you close your phone.
Still with his teeth sunk into your skin he tries to string together a sentence. As if you can understand him. “Ahm bihin yu” (I’m biting you).
“And why are you biting me?”
“Ahm juhf hunghr” (I’m just hungry).
However Rin's unexpected yet adorable biting habit can be of help at times. Regardless of how perverse it is. You reached the conclusion that Rin’s problem isn’t biting but actually a need for oral stimulation. Even if that stimulation comes from rather lewd ways, anyway—
His little quirk even shines through during his countless matches. It’s something he’s well known for at this point— “the sticking out his tongue when he becomes extremely focused” thing he does.
A chuckle would typically escape your lips when you’d see the expressions of Rin’s teammates and foes alike morph into that of distress. Either at the magnificent performance he’s about to pull off or that his tongue is hanging out in the open.
One day you hope to gather up everybody who’s gone through remotely anything that has to do with Rin and his mouth— biting, his tongue slipping out or all the harsh words he spews out and form a “Victims of Itoshi Rin” alliance. Fingers crossed that it’ll be enough to put an end to his reign of terror.
hi! i really love your fanfics, it's my bedtime stories heh.. WELL i just wanted to request the most gut wrenching angst ever because there is only a few with that. btw i dont know if this triggering at all, im sorry, you gen dont have to do this if it makes u uncomfortable :)
i would love it to be either chigiri or sae and they have a lovely partner (us) who is suffering from a frail heart, we are dying slowly and they know it too. they do everything they can and yet we still died, they aren't really good at grief since they never experienced it before so they just turn into a depressive state and eventually.. offs themselves.
Both died; only one stopped breathing.
sae itoshi x reader , genre: angst , warning: contains suicide, mental health issues, and death. , ooc
synopsis: sae Itoshi, a professional soccer player, is deeply affected by the loss of his girlfriend. overwhelmed by grief, he succumbs to the darkness and takes his own life.
Sae had always hated hospitals.
Not because they were loud—they were painfully quiet. Quiet in the way that made every heartbeat monitor sound like a countdown. Quiet in the way nurses avoided eye contact when they recognized him from television, then looked at you with pity instead.
He hated the smell of antiseptic soaked into your clothes. Hated the way your fingers had become colder over the months, even when he held them between both of his hands. Hated how weak your smile had gotten.
But most of all, he hated how helpless he was.
Because Itoshi Sae could fix everything else.
A bad match. A failing team. A broken strategy. Himself.
But not you.
Your heart was born fragile, the doctors said. A cruel thing, really—someone so full of love cursed with an organ too weak to hold it all. At first, it was manageable. Medication. Checkups. A few scares here and there. You laughed through most of it anyway, teasing Sae whenever he got too serious.
“You look scarier than the doctor,” you’d mumble from the hospital bed.
And Sae would click his tongue, adjusting your blanket with careful hands.
“Then stop making me come here.”
But he always came.
Always.
Even after overseas training. Even after exhausting matches where his muscles screamed and cameras followed him like vultures. Even when he looked half-dead himself, he still walked into your room carrying your favorite drinks and peeled fruit because you once mentioned hospital apples tasted sad.
He learned your medications by memory.
Learned the signs before an episode happened—the way your breathing shortened, how your fingertips trembled slightly before the pain began. He became terrifyingly observant. Watching. Monitoring. Waiting.
You once caught him staring at your chest while you slept.
Not your face.
Your chest.
Just to make sure it was still rising.
“You should sleep,” you whispered groggily.
Sae looked away immediately. “I am sleeping.”
“You’ve been awake for thirty minutes.”
“Tch.”
You laughed softly.
God, he would spend the rest of his life trying to remember that sound.
The worst part was that you never acted angry about dying.
You treated it like weather.
Like something inevitable.
One rainy evening, while the city lights blurred outside your apartment window, you laid against his chest listening to his heartbeat. Steady. Strong. Reliable.
You smiled faintly.
“I like yours.”
Sae frowned down at you. “What?”
“Your heart.”
Silence.
“It sounds healthy.”
Something inside him snapped.
“Don’t talk like that.”
You blinked.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re already gone.”
Your expression softened immediately, and somehow that hurt even more.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.” His voice came out sharp. Broken around the edges. “Don’t apologize either.”
He held you tighter after that. So tight it almost hurt.
As if pressure alone could keep your soul inside your body.
Sae became desperate near the end.
Desperation looked ugly on him.
He argued with specialists. Flew doctors in from different countries. Threw money at treatments with microscopic success rates. He stopped sleeping properly. Stopped eating regularly. Stopped showing up to interviews unless absolutely necessary.
Articles started calling him “withdrawn.”
“Cold.”
“Mentally absent on the field.”
They didn’t know he spent nights sitting beside your bed counting every breath you took because he was terrified one of them would be the last.
You noticed it all.
Of course you did.
One night, you reached for his face weakly and brushed your thumb beneath his eye.
“You look tired.”
Sae leaned into your palm before he could stop himself.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
“I know.”
Your breathing crackled slightly.
The room was dark except for the dim hospital light beside you both.
“I think…” you whispered slowly, “I’m scared now.”
For months, Sae thought he had prepared himself.
Thought he was the strong one between you.
But hearing that tiny confession in your shaking voice destroyed him completely.
He climbed carefully into the hospital bed beside you despite the nurses protesting before, wrapping both arms around your fragile body.
And for the first time in his life—
Itoshi Sae cried.
Not prettily.
Not quietly.
His shoulders shook violently as he buried his face into your neck, clutching you like he could fuse your bodies together and keep you alive through sheer force.
“I can’t do this,” he choked out.
You stroked his hair weakly.
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want to.”
Your eyes burned.
Neither did you.
The morning you died was painfully ordinary.
Gray skies.
Half-finished tea on the table.
Your hand limp in his.
Sae had fallen asleep for the first time in nearly two days with his forehead resting against your knuckles.
And when he woke up—
The monitor was flat.
At first, he just stared at it.
Like he didn’t understand.
Like his brain physically could not process what he was seeing.
Then he looked at you.
Your face looked peaceful.
Too peaceful.
“Mr. Itoshi?”
A nurse entered quietly.
No response.
He touched your cheek.
Warm, but cooling.
“No.”
His voice sounded distant. Unfamiliar.
“No.”
The nurse approached carefully, but Sae jerked away violently when she tried touching you.
“No, she’s sleeping.”
His voice cracked harder this time.
“She’s just sleeping.”
The nurse’s expression shattered.
And Sae—
Sae kept repeating it.
Over and over.
Until the words stopped sounding real.
After the funeral, he disappeared. Not physically, Emotionally.
Training became mechanical. Interviews reduced to one-word answers. He stopped replying to messages unless necessary. Stopped caring about headlines. Stopped caring about football some days.
His apartment remained untouched. Your mug still sat beside the sink, your cardigan still hung over the couch, your slippers still waited near the door.
Sae couldn’t move them.
Because moving them meant admitting you were never coming back.
Sometimes he swore he heard you humming in the kitchen.
Sometimes he turned around expecting to see you asleep on the couch.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he reached across the bed searching for your body before reality slammed into him all over again.
The grief made him hollow. Heavy. Rotting from the inside out.
He stopped understanding time. Days blurred together until Rin finally showed up one evening and froze upon seeing him.
Sae looked awful. Sunken eyes, unshaven, blank.
Like someone had carved everything human out of him and left behind only a shell wearing his face.
Rin opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then quietly;
“…You need to eat.”
Sae stared at the wall.
“She used to remind me too.”
And that—that was the first moment Rin realized his brother was truly destroyed.
Months later, Sae still talked to you sometimes.
While standing in empty rooms.
“I scored today.”
Silence.
“The pass was shit though.”
Silence.
“…You would’ve complained about my attitude.”
More silence.
And somehow that was the cruelest part—the world kept moving; people still laughed outside, trains still ran, matches still happened.
But yours didn’t.
Your world ended while everyone else continued living like nothing catastrophic had happened.
Like you had not taken entire galaxies of him with you when you left.
And Sae hated them for it.
Because how dare the world keep spinning—when you no longer existed in it?
Sae Itoshi sat alone in his apartment, the silence deafening. He looked around at the empty rooms, the untouched furniture, the dust bunnies growing in the corners. It felt like a museum, a place where time had stopped. And he hated it.
He hated the way the sun still rose every morning, like nothing had changed. He hated the way people still smiled at him, like they didn't know. Like they didn't understand.
He hated the way he still felt so fucking alone.
He picked up the framed picture of you two, your smiles wide and carefree. You were sitting on the edge of a cliff, your legs dangling over the side. Sae remembered that day. The wind had been strong, your hair whipping around your face. You had laughed, your eyes sparkling with joy. And Sae had felt invincible, like nothing could ever hurt you. Like nothing could ever take you away from him.
But it did.
And now, Sae felt like a stranger in his own life. Like a ghost haunting the shell of his former self. He looked at the picture, your face frozen in time, and he felt a pang of jealousy. Jealousy that you were at peace, that you were no longer suffering. Jealousy that you had left him behind.
He put the picture down, his hands trembling. He knew what he had to do. He had to end this. He had to end the pain, the loneliness, the constant reminder of what he had lost. He had to end it all.
The room is silent, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Sae Itoshi sits on the edge of his bed, a small bottle of pills clutched tightly in his hand. He stares at them, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows what he has to do. He has to end this. He has to end the pain, the loneliness, the constant reminder of what he has lost.
He unscrews the cap, his hands shaking slightly. He pours the pills into his palm, his eyes fixed on the tiny white discs. They glint in the soft light, innocent and harmless. But he knows better. He knows the destruction they can cause.
He takes a deep breath, bringing the pills to his mouth. He hesitates for a moment, his mind flashing back to a time when things were different. A time when he was happy. A time when you were still here.
But that time is gone. And he is left with nothing but pain and loneliness. He closes his eyes, his heart aching, and swallows the pills.
Sae Itoshi collapses onto the floor of his bathroom, his body wracked with pain. He had taken the pills, all of them, and now he's paying the price. He can feel his heart slowing, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He knows he's dying, and he's terrified.
But amidst the fear, there's a strange sense of peace. He's finally going to be with you again. He closes his eyes, his mind flashing back to the last time he saw you. Your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkled with life. He misses you so much.
He reaches out, his hand trembling as he tries to touch your face one last time. But there's nothing there. Just empty air. He opens his eyes, looking around the room, hoping to see you, to hear your voice one last time. But there's nothing. Just the cold, hard tile of the bathroom floor.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his body convulsing as the poison courses through his veins. He's dying, and he's alone. And he's never felt more miserable in his entire life.
Suddenly, amidst the crushing pain that engulfed his body, he recalled your voice so vividly that it caused his throat to tighten.
“Please… live for me.”
You said it often. Softly, like it wasn’t something that would outlive you. And long after you were gone, it stayed—less a memory than a wound that kept reopening, a reminder that you were still speaking to him from a place he could never follow.
Sae squeezed his eyes shut.
"I'm sorry, my love," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Forgive me for being selfish. I just can't live without you."
A tear slipped down his cheek as his eyes fluttered shut.
“…Please wait for me,” he breathed.
Then softly, like a prayer spoken only for you:
“I’m coming home.”
And alone in the silence of the apartment that had once held all his happiness—
You yawned, eyes pressed shut and hand hovering in front of your opened mouth, as your little daughter walked into your bedroom, pulshie in her hand and a pout on her cute face.
"Mommy, can you come sleep with me? I am scared of the dark...", she whined giving you the biggest, most pleading doll eyes ever. Ugh! she looked so much like her father. It was way too cute!
You felt your heart melt away at the sight of your little baby, but took a deep breath, before collecting all your self control, and maturely answered "No, honey, you are already big. You need to become independent"
Your little six years old furiously threw her plushie to the ground and stomped equally angrily with her foot on it, an irritated frown on her small forehead. "But Daddy is way bigger than me! He needs to get independent first!", she yelled, pointing at the culprit with her small finger.
Meanwhile your husband, who had been quiet the whole time, burying his face between your beautiful boobs, just smirked at the little kid, mocking her state of anger, while closing his muscular arms tighter around your waist.
You couldn't really say something back at that outburst of hers so you just sighed, extending an arm and inviting her to the bed. "Okay baby, come and sleep with mommy and daddy" But Daddy, as he saw her walking over, stretched his long leg, keeping his baby at distance. "Nope"
"Mommy! Daddy is bullying me", she cried out, trying to fight off the foot he had placed on her stomach. "Darling, cut it out", you scolded, doing your best to sound serious at the sight of this ridicoulsness. He just huffed. "I don't want brats in my bed. She is ruining my time with my precious wife"
"I am not a brat" She yelled, before biting him straight on the calf. "Ouch! You little menace!", he hissed, before throwing himself at her with a pillow as fighting weapon.
"So I've had enough of you both! If you don't stop right now you can sleep in the living room together!"
Well, you did not expect it to work wonders on those two, cause in an instant your husban and daughter sat there all nice and now both looked up to you with eyes, that pleaded for forgivness. "Sorry mommy", they both apologized, making you fold under zero pressure.
"Alright, I'll forgive you. Now get in the bed"
pondered whether i should post this or nah for 2 days
rin groggily sits up in bed, blinking slowly at the figure standing by the doorframe. he squints at the silhouette—his wonderful girlfriend grinning wide, and wait! there's something in her hand. he rubs his eyes as you take a few steps closer. "i have a little something for you."
"you.. made me a cake?" he flushes red, looking up at you with those puppy-eyes that makes your heart flutter all the same. you swipe a finger across the cream-filled delicacy, retrieving a generous amount of frosting on your index before setting the cake aside. "what are you.." you hook a finger onto the waistband of rin's boxers, seeking permission.
holy shit. you were about to suck his dick for the very first time.
he swallows hard as you cheekily nuzzle your face against his growing heat, and ah, fuck. he's hard now. he steadies himself on the bed and pushes his hips forward, nodding in anticipation as you slip his boxers off. "eager, are we?" you smirk. his cock springs free and he looks away with pursed lips, flustered.
"look at you getting all shy." you smear the frosting right on the head of rin's dick, eliciting a groan from him. "let's see if i'm a good baker." you stick your tongue out, licking from the base right up to his swollen tip. your mouth envelopes his cock with surprising ease, and he nearly cums right then and there. "ah, ah! right there.." rin feels his girth nudge the back of your throat, making him throb.
the sweet tang of batter reaches your tastebuds almost immediately, and for a moment, you take a minute to admire the pretty noises pouring from his lips. he grasps onto your scalp, thumbs rubbing your temple. "come on, move." he demands brattily. you let it slide this once. he's lucky it's his birthday.
"mm, y'so big." you mumble with a mouthful of dick, making him wince from the added sensation. the visual of you bravely deep-throating his shaft with hollowed cheeks—smearing the frosting—all while gagging around the sheer size of it sent him into pure bliss. "i-i'm close, ah—d'you wanna.. pull y'self off now?" he stammers out, voice strained.
you were so focused on giving your boyfriend his special present that you completely ignored his warning. instead of pulling yourself off, you continue sucking at a furious pace, letting rin's cock bruise the back of your throat. his fingers dig into your scalp again. "fuck! 'm close, shit, gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?" you whimper around his dick, running your tongue over his sensitive tip.
rin's vision whites out at the edges and his load shoots right down your throat. his mouth falls open, imitating yours. "haah! shit, s'good for me.." you drink his seed right up, swallowing every last drop before pulling off his messy dick with a loud pop. "good girl." he leans in close, wiping the edge of your mouth with his sleeve. the subtle aftertaste of saccharine and cum settles on your tongue, but you didn't mind.
"open wide. let me see." his thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you swear one of these days rin was going to make you cum from his voice alone. you comply obediently, and to his surprise, your mouth was completely clean. "fuck, you're so greedy. you swallowed it all, huh?" he hums, satisfied.
"only the best for the birthday boy."
a/n so glad i finished this right on time oml rinnie would not appreciate a late birthday post.. anyway happy bornthday my king this has to be one of my favs 🤤
˗ˏˋ considerate things the blue lock men do that get you hot. (a little nsfw, a lot of fluff.) fem! reader. please forgive me as i have never written for rin or sae so if it’s out of character dats my bad.
m.list
⋆ ࣪ ౿ yoichi
Yoichi does the dishes. It’s about 80/20 when it comes to said chore, but he knows you hate it— the smells and pieces of squishy food if something isn’t rinsed correctly, and, truly, he doesn’t mind.
Yoichi’s been sick. It’s a sight to behold, honestly. He’s missed two days of practice and, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s being dramatic. He’s not… This time. Although, the several selfies you’ve received of him eating soup is a sign he’s feeling better.
The consequence of Yoichi being sick is a giant pile of dishes waiting for you at home. It haunts your entire day.
“Oh, hey baby,” Yoichi calls over his shoulder as you step into the kitchen. Nose stuffy, voice nasally, and then he sniffles. He turns with a half washed bowl in his hand, sheepish. He still looks ill. Pale and sporting some huge ass dark circles under his eyes. “Thought I’d do the dishes before you got home, since, you know, I’m feeling better.” He sniffles again.
The clouds part. Sun shines down on your face. An angelic melody plays in background.
Yoichi is able to set the bowl down before you barrel into him with a bear hug. “Yoichi!” You cry in relief. “I fucking hate the dishes! Thank you for sparing me!”
He laughs, rubbing your back affectionately. Murmurs, “Always, baby,” with a sweet kiss placed on your temple.
Clean scented soap, the soft warmth of Yoichi’s body, and the fact he loves you enough to do this while sick— oh yeah, this man’s getting his soul sucked out.
“Wait!” Yoichi yelps, stumbling as you shove him into a nearby chair. Falling before him on your knees. “S-shouldn’t I finish the dishes first?”
As soon as he’s naked from the waist down, cock down your throat, he stops protesting.
⋆ ࣪ ౿ seishiro
Seishiro remembers. Favorite snacks, how you like to be held, the way you like to fold your socks together. He can read you with ease.
The waitress slides your plate in front of you, giving you a sweet, naive smile that only comes from inexperience. She walks away and Seishiro slightly lifts both eyebrows.
“Don’t,” you start, brows pinching as you glance at your food.
“Why do we keep coming here? They never get your order right.”
You protest, saying, “Once I take off the stuff I don’t like, it’s not so bad. Really!” You pick off a couple things, intent on making it perfect.
Seishiro sighs. “Here,” he says, switching plates.
“I can’t take yours, Sei. You don’t even like what I ordered.”
“I don’t care,” he points out. “I’ll eat anything. You won’t.” He tries a spoonful of his new dish, scrunches his noses a little, then shrugs and keeps eating.
You eye him curiously. “Did you get this dish because you knew it was my second choice?”
He nods as he chews. “Yep.” Food puffs his cheek like a squirrel. “In case they fucked your order up.”
Heat flutters in your belly. It’s not even close to the first time he’s noticed the little things. This morning, Seishiro’d been brushing his teeth, waiting for you to wake up and join him like usual. When you didn’t, because you’d forgotten to set an alarm, long arms slid around your waist from behind, soft kisses were pressed to your throat, and sweet nothings were whispered against your ear until you woke up.
You’re about to tear his clothes off. “Get a to go box.”
Seishiro tilts his head. Blinks. “Why?”
“Because I want to fuck you. Right now.”
His lips part in surprise. “Oh.” He glances at the food, at you. “I don’t need a box. We can go.”
Money is tossed on the table and your hand slips beneath his pants before he pulls out of the parking lot.
⋆ ࣪ ౿ rin
Rin is protective. He’s not overbearing, and it’s not in a way that polices your life, more like he watches out for you. Quietly. Subtly.
Brown, red, yellow, orange, the leaves littering the ground are all different colors this time of year. They crunch under your feet, adding background noise to your, otherwise silent, evening walk with Rin.
He lets you choose which side to walk on in the beginning, which is closest to the road. He listens as you tell him a silly story about work that day, humming and commenting here and there. He laces your fingers together.
A car slowly drives down the street. Rin lets go of your hand, gently tugging you by the wrist, switching sides so he’s closer to the road. You don’t really notice the first time. Then, his steps are too quick and he gets a little far ahead, so he slows down until you catch up.
Rin positions himself so you’re shielded when another man walks past you. Guides you around cracks and holes so you don’t trip. All these are done seamlessly, without hesitation.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
Rin glances at you. “Doing what?” He switches sides again when a couple with a dog gets close, falling in step to keep the dog away from you.
“That!” You exclaim. “You keep shuffling me around.”
“I’m making sure you don’t get hurt.”
You smile, taking his hand. “All I’m hearing is you’re willing to get hit by a car for me.”
“No shit.”
It hits you low in the gut. You come to a stop, abruptly turning on your heel, and tug Rin along behind you.
“We’ve only walked half a mile,” Rin points out.
“Yeah, and now we’re going home to have sex.”
Suddenly, Rin is tightening his grip and speed walking ahead.
⋆ ࣪ ౿ sae
Sae makes time for you. He prioritizes you. And if that’s not something great and significant when it comes to him, I don’t know what is.
Friday night plans are carved in stone when he’s home. Sae says it’s date night and he doesn’t give a fuck who tries to change that. It’s not happening.
When you asked Sae to use one those date nights to help you build ikea furniture, a dreadful way to spend the evening, you felt guilty. Thought maybe he’d be pissed off and say, “Are you fucking joking?”
He doesn’t.
Sae shows up for you.
“So, be honest, you’re really not bothered spending date night this way?” You ask, handing him the tiniest, weirdest looking screwdriver thing you’ve ever seen. You shift to sit crisscrossed, the unforgiving carpeted floor making your butt go numb.
Sae focuses on tightening a screw. “No, I’m not.” He gives you a pointed look. “I will be if you keep asking.” He sets down the two pieces of a desk now connected, crawling on hands and knees to search for the instructions.
You pass that to him, too. “I can’t help it! It’s just, you’re never home, but I didn’t want anyone else’s help. Well, I guess I could’ve asked the guy living down the ha—,”
“Not a fucking chance,” Sae threatens, sitting on his heels in front of you. “It’d be over my dead body.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I wouldn’t ever actually ask him.” You go quiet again. “I wanted our night to special, is all. I really missed you, Sae.”
A warm hand cradles your jaw. Forces you keep eye contact. “I’m only saying this once. I don’t care what we do. Build furniture, wax each other’s legs, whatever the fuck you could think of, it’s perfect as long as it’s time spent with you. Got it?”
You nod. “Got it,” you breathe, a flash of heat spreading from your belly to your thighs.
Sae builds that shit quick. When it’s finished, he goes to his bag, rustling through it. You can’t see what it is until he sets it down on the desk.
It’s a framed photo of the two of you.
“Thought it’d look nice there,” he explains.
You’re a little choked up. A lot turned on. “Sae, if you love me, you’ll bend me over this desk right now.”
“It’s ikea furniture. I don’t think it’s strong enough for me to fuck you on.”
“I don’t care if it breaks. Do you?”
Sae doesn’t hesitate. “Fuck no. I’ll just buy you a new one if it does.”
