masterlist

“why would i tell you that, idiot?”

“so you admit you cried recently?” “…”

the last time sae itoshi cried wasn’t when he lost a match against his opponent, nor was it when his dreams of being a striker got crushed. if anything, it served as concrete to build walls and barriers away from his heart and sentimentality.

but instead, it was during you two’s anniversary.

[ ＠you : i wont be doing much for our anniversary this year,, ive been so busy :(( im sorry baby ill make it up to you when my schedule clears 😢 ]

[ ＠sae : its okay. i understand, no need to make it up for me. ]

how disappointing, he thinks.

but he doesn’t cry, he’s not a child— he knows you’ve been busy with work, lectures, assignments and so on, he’s mature, he understands, he doesn’t get sentimental.

well, thats what he tells himself. because when he gets home from practice and is met with a dark apartment, he sighs before sloppily dropping his bag to the floor, his hands trailing to the switches to turn on the light.

and there it is. the whole apartment decorated in fairy lights, ribbons, his favourite foods placed on the dining table and a big pile of gifts in the corner of the room waiting for him. you jump out from behind the couch, lifting your arms up in the air while smiling brightly, “happy fifth anniversary!” which is evident from the big printed out letters dangling from the ceiling.

he freezes. stuttering over his words, “i- oh, you..” his breaths get laboured and subconsciously, tears start building up in his eyes. he covers his face embarrassingly, those dewy drops already starting to fall, “oh- oh sae baby! don’t cry?!-” you say with a laugh, jumping over the couch and immediately hugging him. he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, as tight as if he ever lets go he’ll die.

“shit.. you’re gonna make me throw up out of love.” his voice cracks on the last few words, furthering his embarrassment. you stroke his back comfortingly before he pulls away from the hug, pressing a kiss onto your lips. “thank you. thank you for all.. this. for everything.” “don’t be silly. its the least i could do.” he shakes his head, pulling out a pure gold necklace with your name carved on the pendant out of his pocket. and all you can do is. stare. shocked.

girl dad who spent their life making a training schedule for their son, to teach him how to be a gentleman and how to fight to protect their family. but then ..

“congratulations! its a girl!” the nurse said enthusiastically as she lifted the baby up. he stood there, heart still accelerating from worry of you, but body frozen at her words. either way, he immediately brushed it off and did what any husband would do— cater to your every needs first. water, a blanket, food, anything you need or want.

after an hour or two of check ups on your daughter, the nurses bring your little princess out, wrapped in wool, only peaking out her little head as they hand her to you. “i’ll leave you two alone now, press the button if you need anything, okay ma’am?” the nurses excuse themselves out of the room, but you can’t pay attention to any of that as you hold your little girl. “..she’s adorable…” you whine out, caressing her cheeks gently

“cmon, hold her, let her know you’re her papa.” you hand her over to your husband who’s been nervously standing stiffly behind you. his eyes widen ever so slightly, his hands trembling as he reaches for her. it takes around 5 minutes for him to finally pick her up, and he looks starstruck. “she’s perfect.. so tiny.”

you can see that hes trembling, trying to not put too much strength or pressure onto her. “why are you shaking?” you say with a giggle, “.. i’m scared i’ll hurt her if i hold too tight. what if she’s extra fragile?” he looks back to your daughter, smiling ever so softly, “papa’s gonna protect you, wether you’re as fragile as glass or as strong as a brick wall.”

as time passed, your husband was now the epitome of “girl dad.” if having one bratty princess (you) to pamper wasn’t enough, he’s now got two bratty princesses to pamper.

“no, papa! i wanded a twirly twirly braid! not these anna braids!” your daughter kicks her legs, and just as you’re about to scold her to speak more respectfully, your husband is already beginning to untie the braids he did before, “okay princess. twirly braids it is, calm down, mhm? papas gonna make you the beautifulest girl in the world.”

and sometimes, the table flips and suddenly its your daughter pampering him. “papa, close eyes.” he immediately closes it without hesitation as sayuki holds up a tiny make up brush that came with her play set, her face incredibly focused and concentrated as she slowly makes wiggly, messy eyeshadow strokes on his eyelids. then, a big dab of pink blush on his cheek and to finish it all off, green lipstick. “done!”

in the end, he proudly wore that make up to the playground with her, because “that was 27 minutes of her life on my face. i’m more than honoured to wear it out in public,” while you tried to not wheeze every single time you had to look at him.

other than that, he’s her biggest supporter. a school race where they receive a plastic medal and 2 pieces of candies as a prize? he’s screaming his lungs out— “RUN !! LIFT YOUR THIGHS! MOVE YOUR ARMS PRINCESS! THATS IT!!” and sometimes, he gets so emotional seeing her stand on any pedestal at all, he starts crying. full on glossy eyes, sniffling, wiping his tears with the back of his index finger.. “she’s getting so big.. she was as tiny as my head when i first held her..” and you have to console and comfort him for the next 30 minutes.

and last but not least, when the chaotic days of scribbled make up, french braids, screaming and crying end, she’ll always end up curled in papas arms, sleeping soundly together .

it was barely 5am, sae knew something was off when he felt a heavy pressure on his abdomen, but for some reason its..

“ah- fuck,” your hips slowed down on that particular grind, having hit that sweet spot before immediately going faster than before, letting punched out “unh!”s sounds. “right there..”

saes eyes fluttered open, looking at the sight above him before scoffing. your pants and panties are non existent, the only thing that’s slightly covering you is his jersey you stole. but the thin fabric barely hides your perky tits, his pj shirt is lifted up to his chest, and it doesn’t take long to know what’s going on. without hesitation, he grabbed onto both of your hips, guiding your grinds. “whats up with you hm? tell me.”

you could barely speak a word. your cheeks were flushed a rosy tint as you followed his lead, the small bumps on his lower abdomen were making you go insane. “i- i hhad a dream of you,” you pause to moan, your hands immediately trailing to his, intertwining them together for support. “had a dream y’looked so fucking sexy,” you pause to take a breath. “fucking- hair messy, only having a towel wrapped aaround you, shit,” you were about to cum just from that image alone.

you’re met with sae chuckling at you, a smirk you never see unless he’s feeling egoistical. “it can’t be helped then. mhm?” you nod furiously, desperate to move faster then his hands on your hips allow you to. “mm.” he hums, looking at the clock on his night stand, counting down the seconds slowly. “go on.” he released your hips, watching you go feral in real time.

you let out a short gasp, immediately starting to ride faster, eyes rolling to the back of your head, covering his stomach with more and more of your slick until it sounded unholy. “m close..” your hands land on his biceps to steady you, fuck, those godly, biceps of steel made you want to ride his biceps next.

but for now, you put on a show for your boyfriend underneath you. grinding and riding desperately before finally— “cumming! cum- cumming, oh fuck,” your body immediately went stiff, pleasure overtaking all your senses, spurting gibberish about how much you love him, how good it feels, or thanking him like he saved your life. “easy there.” your orgasm died down, leaving you breathless as sae pulled you down gently to let you rest on his shoulder. “had your fill?” you nod softly, ears red with embarrassment, “i-i’ll clean up the mess, i promise.”

and before you can even try getting up, sae immediately pulls you back down. “don’t. i’ll clean it up, since its my fault for being so ‘fucking sexy’ in the first place.” you can physically feel him holding back a snicker. not even 3 seconds later, a “thwack!” sound came from your hand hitting his head. “shut it..”

long distance texts with bf!sae

you just finished your shower, clearly grumpy as you see rin laying on the bed waiting to cuddle with you. “itoshi rin.” there’s tension in the air as he slowly turns his head towards you cautiously, like trying to not set off a black bears attack mode. “..darling.”

“i told you.” you slowly step closer to him, grabbing his collar like an 80kg man weighed nothing to you. “i told you to not fill up my shampoo with water even if you think it’s running out. didn’t i? i told you its expensive and i wanna use it to the last drop. didnt i?” and rin is scared out of his mind that you can hear him gulping.

“my love-“

“sleep on the couch.” and his face contorts into a frown, as if he’s been sent to serve a life sentence in the deadliest prison in the world. but what else can he do except- “yes ma’am.” he says sheepishly as you let go of his collar, taking nothing with him except the small plushie you called you two’s kid, but even that isn’t spared “put our child down. who said you could take her?” and all he can do is pout even more before placing it on the edge of the bed, walking out the door.

and even when hes on the couch, he curls up like a baby and stares into the void, not bothering to even try and sleep because he knows he won’t be able to. he whines occasionally, hoping to get your attention, but to no avail each time— this goes on until 2am before he finally gets up and approaches the bedroom door, sliding the knob gently to not make any noise and peeking in. you were sound asleep, hugging a pillow instead of him. unbelievable.

he got onto his tiptoes and slid into the room, closing the door ever so gently as he walks towards the side of the bed. get into bed and risk waking you up and make you more angry or..

well, thats how you ended up accidentally stepping on a sleeping rin that was laying on the floor when you woke up and was about to get ready. “shit!- what the hell, rin?!” his body jerks and he wakes up, sitting up to look at you with a guilty face, “..sorry. i couldn’t sleep without you. better to be close than comfortable.” and you can barely choose if you wanna stay mad at him or kiss him. you’re a weak person after all.

i wish i was special.

dork rin

loser in love rin has every single part of your day memorised. what time you step into the lecturer hall, what days you usually don’t come, where you usually go during gaps between classes and of course, which pathway you usually walk so he can coincidentally bump into you!

that is, if he was even brave enough to look you in the eye. rin would walk the same paths just as he memorised, just to get one glimpse of you— he was sure you had no idea who he was, maybe just a stranger you keep coincidentally seeing, or what if he’s never been acknowledged at all? between national tournaments and this, you knowing wether he exists or not is what’s keeping him awake at night.

but everyone knows rin. of course they do, he’s just so shut-in it makes people forget about him sometimes, like walking amongst someone who’s been on a globally streamed live football game was something normal for them already, and that’s where his problem of thinking he’s not good enough for you stems from. that he’s so average to the point everyone could forget about him.

rin wishes he could stand out more. to be more special. to be noticed by you. rin wishes he could be perfect in every aspect.

and thats why he’s completely and utterly shocked when you come up to him and wave, shit, what does he do? what? whats going on?- who’s this beautiful girl? oh, right, thats you. does he wave back? does he say something? shit- “good morningnoon,” aaaaand fuck. he’s already messed up the first time he’s ever talked to you.

you stare at him like he’s an alien, but you laugh it off anyways and he has a internal sigh of relief. “good morning to you too rin. i was wondering if you saw amelia around?” he doesn’t respond, not yet. because he’s baffled you know his name, that you know that he’s rin, it almost feels like he’s floating. theres around 15 seconds of silence before he finally stutters like a lawnmower, “i- uh, no, y- no, i haven’t seen her, sorry, y/n.” and as you nod understandingly and started to walk away, and rin lets out a soft sigh, thinking he’s lost all chance to strike up a conversation with you.

“oh, right—” you call out, turning your head back as your legs pause mid-air. rin doesn’t answer, he just stands there dumbfounded and slightly blushing like a dork. theres a long gap of silence between you two, because he doesn’t exactly know what to say, and shit are you pretty.

“..sorry if this is sudden.” you chuckle, “can i have your number?”

that day, he’s sure he lost 20 gallons of blood from his nosebleed.

your boyfriend, rin, who just acts too much of like a cat sometimes.

his exterior may not express his love for you in the most obvious or romantic way possible, but you know deep down that he loves you more then anyone, just from these few things you’ve observed

one of the things he does that’s well-known is that he runs away from strangers- no, people in general. he hides away from humans as much as he can just because! but once it comes to you, he sticks to you like you’re his second skin, like he’ll die if you’re separated.

and his clinging is just one part. when he clings, he won’t hesitate to rub his cheek on yours, the top of his head around your neck, or just rubbing his face everywhere from the chest up. it doesn’t matter if he’s just got home, just finished a match and has some private time with you, or even when you’re just walking together in public— he’ll always be trying to rub his face or head against yours

well, lets talk about the more quirky stuff he does now. first, he gets possessive. not in a “you’re mine and i’ll kill every man who gets close to you”, but in a “you’re mine and i’ll let everyone know of it so they know they won’t have a chance.” second, he keeps his nails trimmed so they won’t chip during his football matches, so this kitty doesn’t have claws— but he does have his fangs. make him annoyed while he’s busy by poking him around? he’s grabbing your hand to bite it.

he doesn’t know if he wants to hard launch your relationship to everyone. his teammates, his fans, even his parents. they should see everything he has that they don’t, but at the same time, are their eyes even worthy enough of looking at you? are their lungs worthy enough of breathing the same air as you? are they worthy enough to be even in the same room as you?

thats when you see him in the living room, looking stressed as he stares at his phone. back in a ungodly position that makes him looks like a prawn, elbows resting on his thighs as his eyes are glued onto the illuminating screen, the chorus of your favourite song repeating every 15 seconds— “rinnie, whatca doing?” you plop down next to him like a liquid, pulling yourself up, resting your chin on his shoulder as you took a peek at his phone.

“i don’t know if i should post this.” he says as if he’s a teenage girl struggling to choose which photo looks best, and yet you can’t really help but to try and hold in your laugh the best you can. “why not? it looks good.” and rin doesn’t answer, but you can tell it’s something embarrassing by the way his cheeks flush a shade of red and when the grip on his phone gets tighter.

“i.” he takes a deep breath, “they don’t deserve to see you. you’re too gorgeous. but i want everyone to know i’m yours, so they know you’re off limits.” he says it like an upset kid, and you sigh defeatedly, just grabbing the phone from his hands, making him jerk his head and reach his hand out to grab it back, but almost immediately, it was already in the middle of posting. “see? there! official announcement that were together.

｜ first to sleep wins!

truth be told, sae only made up this game to fix your sleep schedule, but now its seriously a competition between you two. how does it work? either you or sae grab the most boring book you could find, cuddle up in bed together— usually you laying on his chest, and you both take turns reading one page. around the 40th-ish page, he’ll find you murmuring and slurring on the words, “and.. ‘nd the high courf.. he..” the book gets shut with a soft thud as he turns off the night lamp, “you win. sleep well.” and even though he’s sure you can barely understand what he’s saying, theres always a soft whine or hum to acknowledge him.

｜battle of the compliments

it happens too often for it not be considered as your daily routine at this point. you just cant stop complimenting him after his match, and he finds it hard to interrupt since 1,) he can’t deny that he loves being soaked in your attention and 2), your rambling does not have any full stops or pauses to let him say something. so really, he had to get creative to make sure you remember to breathe.

“your pass was so badass! i mean, i swear i actually saw a rainbow pass through like, it was beaming if you know what i mean?! and and and, when you completely shut down your teammates that were insulting you-”

“if another form of life hypothetically took over the world and picked me to present one source of life as a reason to not destroy us, i’d present you, no hesitation.”

“…what?” “what?”

“what did you say?” “hm? good question. lets go eat.”

“oh yeah! lets go!”

｜look into the damn camera

he’s the type to never look into the camera when he’s taking photos with you. not because he wants to hide from the media or angry fans, but because he’s busy looking at you. the little winky faces you do, the way one of your legs lift up as you lean onto him to make sure you don’t fall, or when you stretch the beautifulest smile he’s ever seen on your face— how can he look into some camera and not this living work of art right beside him?

while the intention is cute, when you’re looking through the photos and see that he once again did not look into the camera, you’d reach up to slap his head, “look into the damn camera!” “ack!— okay, jeez.”

in the end, you’ve got a sae staring dead into the camera like he’d rather be anywhere but here. you ended up posting the ones he was looking at you anyways.

you don’t even know how you convinced him to put it on, let alone for weeks on end.

a chastity cage — a plastic one that locked his dick inside as if it was something dangerous. and you had no idea how he kept it on and yet still performed just as good during his matches.

well, thats in the public eye

when he’s back at home, with you waiting for him in the living room, barely being able to walk on his own two feet, his cheeks flushed a rosy-red as he let out laboured breaths, stumbling over himself once he reaches the carpet sat under your feet. “key. please.. i can’t do this anymore.” and you almost felt bad from the way he could barely lift his head up.

but again, you weren’t a monster. “cmon, strip.” and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t looks like he was going to collapse at any moment. he scrambled onto his own two feet, taking off his pants and boxers, crawling onto the couch and waiting by your side like an excited puppy as his caged cock dangled uselessly underneath him, “pleasepleaseplease—” he begged, but his voice barely louder than a whisper.

you propped yourself up on your knees, pushing him onto the couch as you reached into your pocket, grabbing a black key— and while to others, it may just be a key, to him, it was everything at the moment. if you squinted ever so slightly, you’d be able to see the way his throat swallowed his own drool as you got closer and closer to unlocking the cage.

“babe.” rins head peaked into your room through the door, and you immediately lifted your head up, tilting it— “yeah?”

he walked into the room, a measuring tape and ruler in hand. “can you help me measure my height? i can’t do it myself.” “course, cmere!” you jump out of bed and grab the stuff out of his hands, pushing him against a wall. “no tiptoeing, and stand straight!” you warned him like a teacher, “mhmm.”

you pulled the measuring tape, but much to your demise, your arm could barely reach up to him. “..one second.” you drop the things in hand and grab a stool beside you, and you swore you could hear rin stifle a laugh. “you’re that short?” “shut. up.”

you pulled the measuring tape again, placing the ruler on his head and sliding it towards the wall, “aaand…” you look closely at the numbers printed onto the tape, “you’re 188cm! you’ve grown!” and he seems weirdly proud of it. “a whole centimetre? as expected of myself, i bet isagi yoichi didn’t grow a centimetre.”

he grabbed onto both sides of your waist and set you down to the floor, pressing a kiss onto your head, muttering a small “thanks.” and a long pause. “shortie.” he walks away afterwards, muttering about how if isagi didn’t grow taller its confirmed he’s lukewarm, tepid, lower than him, shittier than him and he’s better than isagi.

pregnant reader x husband kaiser

pregnant reader x husband rin