▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Secret Door- Arctic Monkeys

Bro’s the Type to…

Kaiser, rin, sae, shidou, reo, nagi

|masterlist

|masterlist #2

Kaiser

-Bro’s the type to send you smug selfies with the caption, “Miss me yet?” even if you just saw him.

-Bro’s the type to act like he doesn’t care about your praise, but if you don’t compliment his plays, he will pout.

-Bro’s the type to call you right after a game just to hear your voice. If he lost, he won’t admit he needs comfort, but you can hear it in his voice when he asks, “Did you watch?”

-Bro’s the type to joke about being your one true love, but deep down, he means it.

Rin

-Bro’s the type to get so excited when he sees you that he accidentally smiles too big—then immediately tries to play it cool.

-Bro’s the type to take mental notes on your favorite things and surprise you with them without a word.

-Bro’s the type to glare at the ground after a bad game, but if you come up and say, “You did well,” he won’t admit it, but it fixes everything.

-Bro’s the type to pretend he doesn’t care about PDA, but his hand is always hovering near yours.

Sae

-Bro’s the type to act like he’s so unbothered when you cheer for him, but if you ever stop? He will notice immediately.

-Bro’s the type to wordlessly place his jacket over your shoulders if you’re cold—and then pretend it was never a thing.

-Bro’s the type to give you advice on anything with a straight face but gets secretly soft when you take it to heart.

-Bro’s the type to sigh dramatically if you’re late to meet him but will always wait without complaint.

Shidou

-Bro’s the type to pull you into a hug so tight it lifts you off the ground—just because he felt like it.

-Bro’s the type to flirt shamelessly in public but will lowkey actually get flustered if you flirt back.

-Bro’s the type to call you in the middle of the night just to say, “Bet you were dreaming about me.”

-Bro’s the type to start fights on the field just to impress you. (Was it necessary? No. Did he do it anyway? Absolutely.)

Reo

-Bro’s the type to say, “You don’t need to buy anything, I got you,” before you even ask.

-Bro’s the type to get irrationally jealous if you compliment someone else’s skills.

-Bro’s the type to hold your hand under the table when he’s nervous about a game—he swears he’s not, but he totally is.

-Bro’s the type to look at you like you hung the moon but pretends he doesn’t when you call him out.

Nagi

-Bro’s the type to drape himself over you like a weighted blanket and say, “Wake me up when it’s time to leave.”

-Bro’s the type to get lowkey possessive if someone else makes you laugh—but he’ll just copy their joke to one-up them.

-Bro’s the type to steal your snacks and act like it was a “tax” for dating him.

-Bro’s the type to mumble “Too much effort…” but will drop everything if you need something.

cw. none, except for satoru being disgustingly cute.

to outsiders, your relationship with satoru is as much a blessing as it is a curse. it’s a blessing, because even your mere presence causes satoru’s talking to drop by a hefty 80% at the very least. it’s a curse, because satoru only stops his chattering to cling to you.

he wraps his arms around your waist, and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. he holds your hands, and cups his own face with them. he tucks your hair behind your ear and squeezes your cheeks together. he’s so utterly enamoured with you, that words suddenly feel unnecessary. and you let him be.

it’s his way of recharging, of finding little bits of peace in a stressful day. so, you allow him to do as he wishes, and simply continue whatever conversation you are having—as if satoru wasn’t currently biting your finger. you dismiss the looks of disgust people throw at him, finding the way he clings to you like a baby koala oddly endearing.

it’s a custom, by now. a custom that’s loved by the both of you, and only the both of you. so, yes—a blessing and a curse. satoru is quieter when you’re around, but in exchange for a (not so) healthy dose of pda.

pick your poison, as one would say.

I'd like to think that you and sae would have the most atrocious digital footprint

summary · you're fifteen and chronically online. sae's fifteen and annoying. together, you're a PR team's worst nightmare.

series masterlist

you have exactly seven drafts saved on tiktok. six are you dancing. one is sae telling you to shut up.

“can you not,” he mutters, turning his face away from your phone. you’re filming him, of course. again.

“the people need to know the real you.”

“no one needs to see me brushing my teeth.”

you zoom in closer. “he’s camera shy.”

he flips you off with the toothbrush still in his mouth.

you cackle, tapping save to drafts like it’s muscle memory. it is. you’ve been doing this since the dorms started assigning roommates. and even though you technically aren’t rooming with him, you still manage to worm your way into every piece of content that’ll get you both publicly humiliated someday.

not that you care.

you set the phone down on the counter, careful lest sae splash it with tap water, plop on the closed lid of the toilet seat, and lean your elbows on your knees. “we’re gomna be international one day.”

sae snorts.

“no, really,” you insist. “and when that happens, our managers are gonna comb through every post, every comment, every digital crumb of personality we’ve ever left online and regret ever signing us.”

he spits into the sink and pats his mouth dry meticulously, vaguely amused. “you mean they’re gonna regret signing you. i’m normal.”

“sae,” you deadpan, “you started a twitter war with a fan account because they said jude bellingham was better than you.”

“they were wrong.”

you stare at him. “they were twelve.”

“wrong,” he repeats, tone final.

you’re too tired to argue, so you snatch the phone beside yours on the sink and open his barely-used tiktok account. well. barely-used by him. you made it when he refused to download tiktok and you wanted to piss him off.

he squints. “why do i have a video?”

you turn the screen to show him the lone post: a blurry mess of you running, the microphone catching nothing but wind and your wheeze-laughs. in the background, sae sprinted after you, blur of red hair and fury.

amidst the rush of air catching, your voices managed to still be distinctly heard.

“give. it. back!”

“say you love me first!” your shriek echoed through the speaker.

he groans. “delete it.”

you throw him a convicted smile. “no.”

— — —

you don’t get to keep them all.

a year or two later, just as your names start making headlines, your PR manager politely asks—read: forces—you to delete everything. your posts, his posts, your shared posts, even the cute ones where you and him were just innocently trying funny filters.

you used to joke that if either of you ever made it big, your teenage digital footprints would be your downfall.

you were half-right.

your pages were a goldmine of post 2016 cringe. you’d hop on every trend like it was the last oxygen tank on earth—heart-beat-beat-beat dances, slow-mo transitions, and god-awful povs that somehow always featured you looking out a rainy window mouthing “you said you’d never leave…”

sae with his twitter wars, unprovoked beef with strangers about him vs jude bellingham: who's more handsome??? anime opinions, and once, an argument about whether mint chocolate ice cream deserved rights.

they all got wiped up.

both your socials? nuked.

tiktoks: gone.

twitter: locked, deactivated, incinerated.

instagram? scrubbed.

except… they missed one.

sae’s old instagram account that's just floating in the void, quietly haunting the web while the polished, verified one gets all the attention.

it's completely bare, no posts, no profile picture, and a simple username. one might even think it was a spam, random, fan account—unless they did a double take, because just right below the cut was a highlight. just one. titled with a single white heart emoji. you werent sure if you were the one that placed that. you didn’t even know it was there.

it was a photo from your dorm days in madrid. sae still looked boyish then, still had that awkward teenage charm that clung to him in the tail-end of puberty. and you were just as young, just as wide-eyed. he still wore those stupid blunt bangs that refused to grow out no matter how many times he tried. but what caught everyone, even you off guard was the picture itself: sae pressing a kiss to your cheek, and you frozen in an over exaggerated, comical shock—one hand covering your parted lips like a silent film actress. no context. no caption. no explanation.

the internet lost its mind.

the account got unearthed after someone on football twitter went, “wait… did itoshi sae have an old IG?”

the tiktok posts came next.

“he was soft once. ONCE.”

“idk what’s worse, the highlight or the 2016 vibrance filter.”

“someone tell BOTH their PR teams tht account exists.”

“NO WAY SHE USED TO DO TIKTOK POVS AND HE DATED HER ANYWAY.”

you got a text from sae at the crack of dawn, since a handful of your fans were a bit more prominent internationally:

(3:09 AM) sassy man: did you forget to delete my old account?

(3:09 AM) fine shift: did you forget you kissed me on camera and let it live in a highlight captioned with a 🤍

(3:09 AM) fine shift: you're so sappy, sae

read (3:11 AM)

typical. he left you on read. (and you knew he was pacing around the hotel room muttering “shit.”)

but the damage was done. “sae itoshi’s secret soft era” became the fandom’s latest obsession.

you were mortified. but somewhere, deep down—beneath the grown-up layers, the career polish—you were kind of glad. because no matter how far you both got from who you were back then, that little ghost of your digital past still lived on.

and it was kind of nice, being remembered like that:)

it's always a good time for ice cream! 🍡🍧🍨🍦

bro when I made the request I didn't know I would be ur first.

Do u mind me making another, since I'm in love with ur writing style.

How about ur fav. Bllk boy getting distracted during the match or training because they fell love at first sight with the reader.

«You’re out of the game, but in your head»

— without gender!reader x sae itoshi, hiori yo, mikage reo, michael kaiser, Isagi yoichi, rin itoshi.

warning: the material may contain romanticized obsessions, as well as elements of emotional embarrassment/confusion on the part of characters

note: ohh it’s so nice. thank you very much for another request!

mailbox open for queries!!!!

Sae Itoshi

Training was normal - hot sun, the smell of wet grass, coach’s screams. Saé moved accurately, gracefully, as always. The ball obeyed him, but the team did not. He was about to get angry when his eyes caught on something outside the field.

No, for someone.

You were sitting on the edge of the bleachers, wearing sunglasses, with your head slightly tilted, as if you were looking at something interesting. Not loud, not the center of attention, but... impossible to get away.

The car stopped automatically - literally during the pass. The ball flew past, and he watched everything.

– What are you, Itoshi? – Someone on the team screamed.

He blinked, turned away, went back into the game - and lost the ball again. It was ridiculous. And annoying. He hated to lose. But suddenly this irritation was replaced by a strange sensation in the chest, as if something had shifted. Cracked.

He looked where you were sitting. And then again. And again.

After training, instead of going to the locker room first, Saé came to the edge of the field. He got up. He looked right at you.

– Hey. You – calm, lazy, but in the voice - intention. – Who are you?

Hiori Yo

The training was over, and he, as usual, lingered on the field. He practiced one gear - soft, precise, almost a dance. Hyory was always lost in these movements, as in music. But today everything is ruined.

First, the feeling of looking. Then, a light wind that brought your voice: you were laughing at something, passing by with a bottle of water and a telephone in hand.

He looked up and... it was like the first time he had breathed in the whole day.

– Who is it? – I asked one of the guys later.

– New girl. They say she’s a cool voice, sings in the band. Just don’t fall in love.

Too late.

Mikage Reo

He loved to shine on the field. Show results. Be a star. Everything under control. Always.

Before you showed up. Not even in the field - somewhere on the side, with a tablet in hand, making some notes, chewing gum, as if you were bored.

And then you looked up. And he collapsed.

Not exactly. He just dropped off the pace, got caught in the ball, got a kick in the leg, something that hadn’t happened to him since he was thirteen.

– Hey, Mikage, you okay?!

– Yes... I... – he took a breath and glanced at you.

You winked. Smiled. And he didn’t think about anything else.

– We have to find out who she is, he told himself as he tied his boots in the locker room.

– And invite her to the concert. Even if it’s the worst date of my life.

Michael Kaiser

He’s always been in the lead. His beauty, his style, his acting. The artist on the field. And suddenly you.

You were sitting with your back to the sun, and therefore your face was half in the shade. But he saw it anyway. Because of your smile. A smile that didn’t say, "You’re cool." It was like, "Surprise me if you can. "

He couldn’t stand to be looked at like this. With a call. With cold confidence.

The Kaiser played boldly, through himself as usual - but made a mistake. Pain in the leg, falling, laughing from the bleachers.

You didn’t laugh. I just watched him get up, shake it off and... swear to himself in German. And then you pointed your thumb. Approvingly.

And that was enough for him to start training harder, faster, angrier.

– You will be my fan. Absolutely, he whispered as he looked at you. – Even if I have to learn three languages and play a fucking musical for you.

Isagi Yoichi

He was focused. The punch is the target. The transfer is the target. The look is on the gate.

And then you showed up behind the fence with a camera in your hand. It was like it happened by chance. And the snap is a photo. He heard the sound, not even knowing why it caught him. He turned.

And I saw you.

You looked at him through the lens, as if you were filming not the footballer, but the moment of truth. And he stopped breathing for a second. Everything inside feels like it’s cramped, but nice.

Who is she? Why does she film? And why... me?

He stumbled. It was the first time in a long time. The team came running, they helped them get up. And you were gone.

After the match he went around the whole field. And found a card on the ground. With your name.

And the signature: "You play as if you are saving yourself from the world. I’m waiting for the next match."

He smiled for the first time all day

Rin Itoshi

Through the noise of the stadium, Rin heard only the beating of the ball and his own breath. The match was tense, he was focused to the limit - every move is accurate, every step is accurate. His eyes were watching the rivals, but suddenly he caught a look behind the stand.

You.

Sat closer to the edge, alone, in a black hooded sweatshirt. Not as a fan, not as a journalist. It’s like you just happened to be here. But you were watching the game. On him. Right in his eyes, like he knew he’d notice.

And he noticed.

The pulse is out. He turns away, but too late - his body has already made a mistake. He loses the ball.

– Yup w... – passed through the teeth and cast a brief glance in your direction.

You smiled. A little bit. Not insolently, not provocatively - just warm. It was enough for Rin to lose focus completely.

After the final whistle, he did not go to the locker room. He approached the fence, bent his head, pulled the bangs out of his eye and said loudly:

– Why were you looking at me?

he cooked him like a caesar salad

dk (도겸) seventeen (세븐틴) icons 🎧

Everything

Warnings: Swearing, Fem reader (Angst to sorta fluff).

I have this idea that Rin isn't able to say sorry and ask you to come back after a break up. I feel like he'll try to wear you down by slowly bringing you things you "left" at his apt. (In reality, he misses you so much even a few minutes on your doorstep mean the world).

Rin knew everything about you. Everything. Which isn't surprising since he harbored a crush on you a full six months before asking you to dinner.

Which led to a unique year-long relationship. But Rin wasn't interested in growing outside of football.

That is, not until you broke up with him. It was the most fatal blow in the world to him.

Until he met you, he thought Sae's words to him after the U-20 game hit him harder than anything else ever could.

He was wrong.

The hardest part for him was the fact he'd spent the 3 months prior to your breakup building the courage to ask you to move in.

Rin felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you said goodbye.

However, Rin wasn't going to let you go. If he had to change then maybe this was the wake up call. Whatever. It didn't matter he was going to get you back.

Which is why he was at your door right now holding a paper bag of "your" things. Items you'd somehow left behind at his place.

Eying him warily, you looked in the bag. Sure enough, it held your favorite pair of sweats, your extra charger, and a plushie he'd won for you.

"Thanks. If you find anything else you can just call me. I'll stop by when you're home and grab it."

Rin simply nodded, though he would never do that.

For the next six weeks, Rin stopped by. Finding more and more of your belongings. Some of which you don't remember ever bringing to his apt.

Shrugging it off you thanked him and continued on with your life.

After the two month mark of your breakup, Rin realized he'd run out of things to bring back to you. He'd stretched it out as far as he could, but now...

Well, it's a good thing he knew EVERYTHING about you.

Another week went by with Rin dropping something off. As you moved to put the lotion (your favorite & discontinued scent) Rin brought you realized he'd brought you that bottle the 3rd week that he'd stopped by.

Weird. Shrugging, you wrote if off as your memory playing tricks. Two more weeks passed by, and you realized what was happening.

So, the next time he stopped by, you invited him in. All the items he'd been bringing lined up, most had duplicates.

"Rin, what's going on? You can talk to me."

"It's not my fault you have so much crap. Or that you left it at my place."

You knew beforehand this wasn't going to be easy, but you hadn't expected him to act like you were making it up.

"Seriously? You're not going to admit..."

"Are we done? I have to go," Rin was afraid he'd give himself up if he stayed longer.

"Rin, please," your voice softened and you saw his internal struggle play out through his eyes.

A long, drawn-out sigh escaped his lips, fists clenched at his sides.

"Yeah. Fine. I bought some of it...I want to see you."

"Okay."

Rin's eyes snapped up to meet yours, hope blossoming in his chest.

"Okay?"

You smiled and walked up to him, taking his hands in yours.

"If you're willing to go this far to see me, I'm willing to try again, but Rin, you have to communicate. What you want, what you need and..."

"I want you to move in with me."

The words tumbled from his lips so fast you weren't sure you heard him correctly. Rin cupped your face with his hand searching your eyes for an answer.

"Move in?"

"I was going to ask before you broke up with me."

"Let's give it a few months, okay?"

Rin placed his forehead to yours, a small sigh escaping his lips. Having you back meant more to him than anything else, so he would wait.