?

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥?

𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

He won’t lie, he likes you clingy. However, you hadn’t been spending much time with him. Megumi knew that you would be free today. So a scary movie it was. He needed an excuse.

He had called you over and had the movie playing. Your hands were gripping his, knuckles white, and you had them pulled in front of your face. He smiled a little when he realized you were still peeking through them.

“You scared?”

He was being a little mean. He knows you know, as if the quick glare you sent him didn’t speak volumes. Freeing his hands from your death grip, he throws one arm around you. Within a second, your hands were gripping his again, and he couldn’t help but laugh right against your ear, breathy and deep.

When he feels you shiver against him, Megumi has a feeling that the jump-scare on the screen wasn’t the reason.

A few moments pass, and his head is propped up against the wall. During the dialogue scene, you glance over at him.

“Aren’t you scared?”

His eyes slid over to meet your’s. “Hm?”

You huff a little in frustration at his face. “You have no expression on your face. I’m feeling a little silly over here.”

Megumi pulls you closer to him, and your dogs bound onto the bed. Scratching them behind their ears, you continue, “They have more feeling on their face than you.”

Megumi listens quietly, snuggling his face against your neck. The movie continues, and during the next jump-scare, he kisses your neck from behind, effectively distracting you.

Your pulse thunders right against his lips as he feels you tighten your hands around his. As the movie ends, he rubs your shoulders, massaging the tension and fear away slowly.

Once you’ve relaxed against him, he kisses your hair, your neck, your shoulders. He doesn’t notice you and the dogs getting ready to pounce him.

“Rah!” You turn in his arms, throwing your weight against him as the dogs tackle him from the sides. He laughs, falling, as all three of you pepper his face with kisses.

After calming down, he opens his eyes and looks at you. Your hands are holding his face, and he knows there’s a flush in his cheeks as your thumbs graze it.

“There we go. Much better.”

Pulling you to lay down on him, he sighs. With you hugging him tightly, he knows you’re gonna spend the night because you’re scared. You’re clingy.

⇝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

guys im im okay

x : AUGUST 12TH :*+ﾟ

in which: reo sees his birthday marked down on your calender, and it fills him with the courage to win you back. or, he's hiding from the paparazzi... in your apartment, for whatever reason.

warnings: 2k wc, gn!reader, exes to lovers but they're very much in love, they kiss (eww), minor angst and minor embarrassment for reader but it's very cute, very much fluff and happy endings, professional soccer player reo, characters aged to be around 21+

a/n: I LOVE REO. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!

August 12th used to be one of the most important dates on your calender. Now it is one that brings forth bittersweet thoughts and memories whenever you think too hard on it, reminiscing a love that you had to let go long ago, despite how badly you wanted to keep him.

Mikage Reo’s name used to be stamped loud and proud beneath the date, with a heart that you hastily scribbled on due to the awkward angle of the page. His name is still on there, just without the heart, and merely in capitalised letters of your handwriting. 

You don’t know why you need to record it down because you remember it regardless, the set of numbers etched in the crevices of your mind. In fact, when August first hit and you were planning the month ahead, the act of recording down Reo’s birthday was a second-hand instinct, and when you did so without realising, a little pool of embarrassment and hurt developed in your chest. You didn’t even have the guts to cross it out either, despite it being almost seven months since you split.

Not a day has passed without you thinking about him, clearly.

But it was nothing to be embarrassed about because no one will ever think too much about it, especially not Reo, because he has no reason to ever step foot in your apartment ever again. If he ever saw it, you might just wither away.

So why on earth was he here now, sitting on one of your kitchen stools? The one that he used to always sit on when he came to see you when you were still dating with the reasoning that it ‘gave him a better view of you whilst you were scurrying around’.

Now you are ever aware of his gaze on you, entranced whilst fixing him a mere glass of water. 

Sliding it over to him on the marble countertop, he takes it with a grateful smile. “Thank you for allowing me to hide here, and I'm sorry about bringing you into all of this.”

“No problem, you got lucky that i have nothing better to do today,” you sigh, trying to tune out the clamours of the paparazzi that were residing outside of your apartment complex. Wandering over to the balcony window, you see that the swarm hasn’t decreased from when you last checked. 

Your poor, clueless neighbours. None of them deserved to be dragged into this. You wonder when it can all settle down.

“Reo?” You murmur. He glances over at you immediately, attentive purple eyes bright and wide in their curiosity. “Why did you come here out of all places?”

“You’re…” he falters. “You’re the first person I thought of, and I just so happened to be nearby.”

“Nearby? There’s nothing to do around my neighbourhood. What could you possibly have to do here?”

He looks away, shamefully staring down at his glass of water. “Errands. Stuff.” 

“Okay,” you trail off, not wanting to prod further. “So how are you thinking of getting out of this situation?”

“Does your apartment have another way out?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Well unless you want me to jump from your window, then my only way out is to wait,” he says with a shrug and you pinch the bridge of your nose. The clamours of the crowd below can be heard even on your second-level home, and no matter how badly you wanted to return to your work, a certain ex of yours is only another reason for your headache. 

Since the breakup, you never thought Reo would ever be here again, however, fate seems to have pulled peculiar strings to bring him back to you- on his birthday too.

You won’t admit that this all feels a little set up. Perhaps it was the universe mocking you for not being able to stop loving him, despite it being you who forcibly let him go so he could fulfil his soccer ambitions in England.

The last time you saw him, he was crying at your doorstep, reluctant to go and to let you go. It is a sight that will always haunt you, especially when you then shut the door in his face and ultimately, ending your relationship.

Would you let him go again if you had the chance? No. Reo won’t ever know that, though.

You doubt he wants you back.

“Maybe you needed a better disguise if you wanted to escape the paparazzi,” you mutter.

Reo fiddles with his sunglasses. “Don’t scorn a man who just wanted to go out. I can’t even do anything normally nowadays anymore, not even in Japan.”

“Well, yeah, you’re kind of a big shot, Mr-Signed-With-Manshine-City,” you huff. "It's like high school and your fangirls all over again."

“You remember my team?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It's all anyone talks about, especially after the World Cup.” 

“And you listened?” 

“Of course I did,” you confess, no louder than a whisper. “I’m happy for you, Reo. You're really amazing.”

Something about your sentimental statement makes the purple-haired frown, looking away as an obligatory ‘thank you’ slips from his lips.

There’s a quip resting on the tip of your tongue about it being his birthday, but it slides back down your throat with the ease of paper, cutting you in the process. 

“Can I request something from you?” You question.

“Anything," the athlete looks over at you with hopeful eyes.

“Since you’re using my house to hide in, can I have your Netflix password so we can watch a movie or something?” You murmur, “something’s telling me that you’ll be here for a while.”

He laughs, bright and exuberant and boyish that it makes your yearning expand tenfold. “Sure, as long as I get to pick what we watch.”

Your heartstrings soften a little, “fine. I have popcorn somewhere so let me get that out.”

It only takes one movie for the clamour outside to disappear. You’re sure that your neighbours called the police at some point too given then flash of red and blue that illuminated onto your walls, but there was little conflict, and eventually, the quiet returned. You should be grateful for it, really, because your headache can calm and you can get back to doing your work, but it also means that this is the end of yours and Reo's paths. He’ll leave your apartment, and then Japan, and then your life will return to the seven month-long limbo that it was without him, with possibly no due date this time.

He stays around until the end of the movie, however, and when it’s over, he stands with a huff, hands on his knees to help push him up. If you weren't too focused on your dread, you'd have noticed the subtle reluctance clinging to him.

“I ‘ought to be going now, I’ve been in your hair long enough,” sighs the soccer player. “Thank you for allowing me over.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” you mutter. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise. you lo-” Reo’s eyes widen before he shuts his mouth, visibly shaking the sentence away as you’re filled with an invasive sense of curiosity. You want to pry his words out of his mouth, but you don’t think that’s appropriate for your current relationship. “I’ll see you sometime.” 

“Yeah. I’ll be here.”

He nods. During the time of your conversation, the two of you had made it to your kitchen and to your horror, Reo stops right before your calender. He glances at it and has to do a double-take, making sure that his eyes hadn’t failed him.

How will you recover from this one?

Reo turns to you, eyes and smile soft and so so warm. “You still have my birthday marked down.”

“Oh. You’re right!” You laugh awkwardly. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you. I’m honoured you remember.”

“Oh my goodness, please shut up,” you hide your face with one hand and Reo laughs harder.

“Do you remember how old I’m turning as well?”

“We’re the same age! Of course I'd remember-”

“-do you have a present for me? You know I love presents.”

“Go buy your own damn presents, you multimillionaire.”

He laughs harder and you almost want to chase him out of your house. “But I like it when they’re from other people!” 

“I don’t have a gift for you, Reo, now can you please shut up?”

“If you don’t have a present then can I ask you for one thing?”

“What is it?”

“A date. Tomorrow, at your favourite place downtown.”

The light, cheery environment dims and you find your breath getting lodged in your throat. “Reo… I- we, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” He asks, “do you still love me?”

“I have your stupid birthday on my calender and no one else’s, not even mine, so yes I do still love you.” 

He grabs your hands and you feel weak in the knees, clasping onto the warmth you had grown so familiar with. “Then another chance, please, that’s all I ask for.” 

“I let you go for your sake, you shouldn’t have someone like me dragging you back whilst you’re in England. Didn't you see how successful you were without me?” You mutter, thinking back to the night that you let him go, recalling all the pain you felt. 

And how you might relive it again tonight.

“Dragging me back?” he parrots, voice slightly strained. “I thought about you the entire time I was abroad, every training session, every time I scored a goal, I thought about doing it all for you. It might have hurt me to not have you there with me, but it killed me to know that I didn’t have you at all.” 

Reo rests his forehead against yours and you close your eyes, basking in the intimacy that you never thought you could ever experience again with him. “And it killed me even more to know that you wouldn’t be waiting there for me when I came home. You know who was there instead? Stupid Zantetsu, and a few high school friends, but not you.”

“I love Zantetsu though, we get coffee together all the time,” you comment quietly. “He told me that he was going to pick you up.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t even think of going with him.”

“Exes don’t go to the airport to pick each other up.”

“So be my lover again,” pleads Reo. “Be mine again, be here for me every time I return to Japan.”

“Is it what you want?"

“A thousand times yes.”

You sigh through your nose, memorising the feeling of his forehead against yours one last time before parting from him. “Then pick me up tomorrow, at half past six, and we can go downtown.” 

His smile could rival that of a thousand suns, and just seeing it is enough to cure your heart.

“Okay,” he nods, a dreamy sort of look settling in the purple hues of Reo’s gaze. “Okay! I'll be here, without paparazzi this time, and no one will disrupt our date, I'll make sure of it.”

“One more thing before you leave. Stay here!” You command before scurrying through your house and into the study to retrieve a pen. Uncapping it, you then scribble a little heart on the calender, right next to Mikage Reo’s name.

You don’t miss the look of pure elation on his face.

“Call me. My number hasn’t changed.”

“Okay, I will, I will. Watch out for it.”

“Then I look forward to it.”

“Now I really don’t want to leave,” he whines, gently pressing you against the wall with his hands holding onto your shoulders. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to ask to stay the night, would it?”

“No, but, I think we’re beyond your awkward gentleman-liness.”

“Then, I have permission to do this, right?”

He presses his mouth to yours, hot and needy, you wonder if he’s trying to swallow you whole so you really can’t ever leave again. 

“Happy Birthday, Reo,” you murmur against him.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[ mikage reo ]

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t fair.

it wasn’t—

“[y/n]?” reo’s soft voice echoed through the quiet living room, bringing you out of your thoughts. you blinked, snapping out of your bubble with a harsh swallow as you slowly turned to him, finding his face etched with concern that made your stomach twist. “are you okay?”

it wasn’t fair.

“yeah.” you finally mumbled out after a few seconds, watching his face twist with more concern. the way he looked genuinely worried only made your fists clenched tighter, and you cleared your throat. “i… i think i’ll go home now, though. it’s late.”

“it is late,” his frown deepened. “why don’t you stay over like always?”

you did your best to force a smile, but it definitely came out as a grimace, your assumption only getting proven further when his eyebrows furrowed. you pushed yourself up before he could talk, shaking your head. “it’s okay, i’ll call an uber. see you later, reo.”

it just wasn’t fucking fair.

you grabbed your stuff hastily, rushing out of his home before he could stop you. the cold air was almost like a slap to your face, and you only realized the small drops of water splashing on you when you were already soaked, mind still busy.

you didn’t know who to blame, really, because maybe it was your fault.

it was your fault for thinking that just because you blurted out your love for him a few nights ago, he would treat you differently, especially after he ignored it completely. it was your fault for expecting more when you knew he only used you as way to relieve building stress. it was your fault for thinking your position as his ‘friend with benefits’ would actually evolve into something further.

it was your fault, you were fucking stupid.

the first thing you did when you arrived home wasn’t to slip out of your soaked and freezing clothes, nor to drop your stuff, not to even take your shoes off. the first thing you did once you took the first step in was to pull your phone out, still dripping wet on the stupid welcome mat, and find reo’s number, opening your messages.

the second thing you did was type out a simple text, press send and block reo mikage.

the third thing you did was thank your past self for not sharing your address so he didn’t have any more ways to contact you.

it really wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair that you had to push down your feelings until you no longer could, and it wasn’t fair that the person you thought is the perfect one for you didn’t feel the same way.

but it was logical, because why would the reo mikage look your way?

the fourth thing you did was wipe the tears streaming down your face.

☆ ☆ ☆

avoiding reo on campus was easy.

the two of you were in two different buildings, so there was almost no chance of bumping into him. on the rare occasions that you did spot his bright hair, all you had to do was raise the hood of your hoodie and walk by, ignoring the way your hands shook slightly once the walk was over.

you avoided the café right beside campus, one you two usually met in, for the first few days, everything that reminded you of him being too painful, but on this specific day, you desperately needed the caffeine, and you figured you wouldn’t see him either way since the only reason you both met there was because you liked it.

“only you today?” the usual barista added calmly once his eyes landed on you, but it only felt as if he was adding salt to the injury as you sighed, eyes down on your wallet as you grabbed your card, opening your mouth to answer before you were cut off by a dangerously familiar voice.

“get us the usual, please!” reo’s voice chirped casually, causing you to freeze, eyes still down. you remained silent as he passed his card against the card reader, the thought of meeting his eyes so soon making you sick, but you only snapped out of it when the barista called out the person in the line behind you and reo pulled you aside.

“what are you doing?” you finally spoke, voice monotonous, and you heard reo hum. finally, you decided to raise your gaze, but he was looking away nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets.

“the weather is nice today, isn’t it? the sun is out, unlike the past week and—“

“mikage.”

at that, he halted, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “…it’s reo, especially for you.”

“i blocked you for a reason.” you ignored his words. his eyes moved to yours, but you immediately turned away to avoid them, your nails digging into your skin as you struggled to breathe. “i can’t do this anymore, mikage, especially with you.”

he swallowed. “let me take you out on a date.”

a dry laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and your eyes finally met his. “i don’t need your pity.”

“it’s not pity.” he immediately replied, almost desperately. “i am so sorry it took me you disappearing for a few days to realize my own feelings for you, but don’t you dare call it pity. i can go on about how your smile gives warmth that could make the sun jealous and how every minute i spend away from you feels freezing cold and how i feel like im drowning in ice cold water whenever i think about you moving on and how—“

you cut him off when you realize almost everyone’s eyes is on you both, genuinely unaware whether your cheeks are heating up due to embarrassment or his undeniably sweet words, grabbing your drink with an unsettled hand. “i get it.”

“do you?” he questioned, grabbing his own. “because i can go on forever if you need me to.”

“i do,” you insisted quickly, rushing out with him following behind you closely. “you don’t need to.“

“so, you’ll unblock me and let me take you on that date?”

you sucked in a breath, turning to him sharply. “you better not make me regret this, mikage.”

“it’s reo!”

a/n: drabble :p not my best work but yolo 🤵

MY HEART, IT BEATS FOR YOU

Nagi Seishirō/Reader | 1.0k words, fluff, jealous nagi

Nagi, generally, is an apathetic person.

Yet somehow, there’s a taut feeling that twists its way through the gaps of his ribcage, stretching around his heart as his eyes linger on the fabric that hangs around your shoulders. Seeing you on the couch, casually scrolling on your phone while wearing a jacket he can’t recognise as yours or, even better, his as much as he wants to — the sight elicits something that’s not quite a painful feeling, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either, he thinks.

The wheels are still turning in his head when you finally acknowledge his presence with a smile, oblivious to the way he’s not even looking at you when you tell him, “Hey, Sei.”

Instead, he trudges over to you with the same passion as that of a sloth, and his voice comes out small, almost as if that same feeling in his chest has crawled past his shoulder to constrict his throat.

“That jacket— it’s not yours, is it?” It’s plain and simple, the way he states the observation, yet laced with the most marginal hint of spite.

“No, it’s Reo’s,” you confirm without missing a beat, and he narrows his eyes, so subtly that you don’t even catch it. You continue on about how you bumped into Reo by pure coincidence on your way to run an errand and how the weather’s been so volatile lately, oscillating between warm and sunny one day and freezing cold during the next. But Nagi—

Well—

Here’s the thing: as impassive as he is most of the time, Nagi is a great listener when it comes to you.

You’ve always been a priority to him and even more so in that facet. To relish in the fleeting moments of winning a game on his phone, or to know what happens in the latest chapter of his favourite manga as soon as possible — the rush of satisfaction he gets out of those is nice, he supposes, but not worth missing a word of what you say, be it something miscellaneous about your day or the biggest news he’s ever heard in his life.

And certainly, nothing is worth missing the small habits that make themselves known in your conversation, that make up the you he first swore love to near the bench outside the convenience store, holding your favourite snack in one hand and offering his jacket to you with his other because the harshness of springtime winds had swept away any warmth your flimsy sweater could contain.

It’s your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you look toward him at the end of each rambling, as if to ask, Are you listening? So then, he’ll answer— a nod, as if to say, Yes. Of course. Please say more. Because for you, it’s all ears and eyes wide open on his end.

But Nagi, admittedly, isn’t perfect, and this is not a matter of opinion. Even you can see the way he can’t stop staring hard at your jacket as though he’s trying to telepathically morph it into something that looks like it came from his closet instead.

Midway through an elaborate plan to sell the jacket for an outrageously high price on some sketchy website (you’re only half-joking… maybe), you finally notice his distant expression. “…Sei?”

His lack of response is all the confirmation you need for your suspicions. A grin then crosses your face, while your eyes sport a gleam that Nagi recognises as smugness once he eventually tears his focus away from the offending item of clothing.

You say his name again, this time teasingly. Then, “Are you jeal—?”

Your question cuts off unceremoniously when his hands reach over to latch onto the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down before tugging on the fabric near your shoulders. Despite the boldness of his actions, you don’t make any move to stop him as he flings Reo’s jacket across the room, hearing it land on the floor with a satisfying sound.

Moments later, he shrugs his jacket off in one smooth motion and then drapes it over your body. With his large palms smoothing over the fabric against your upper arms, it’s such a sweet gesture that you can’t find it in yourself to complain, although the opportunity to poke fun at him is hard to let slip.

“Woah, there.” Cheekily, you brush that one abnormally long part of his bangs away from his face and poke the tip of his nose, to which he responds with his signature pout before burying his face into the crook of your neck. As your back hits the cushion of the arm rest behind you and your hands come up to comb through his hair, you feel a bout of warmth surge through your collarbone area, accompanied by the sound of his voice muffled by your skin.

“I’m not jealous.”

A smile dances around the corners of your mouth despite your efforts to conceal it. “Really?” you say. “I think you are.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles. “You can’t prove it.”

“I mean. You’re kinda all over me right now.”

He huffs at the flurry of giggles that tumble from your mouth boundlessly, like clothes spilling out of an overpacked suitcase. Though, when your laughter finally simmers down and humour seems to have come to a standstill in your conversation, sentimentality weaves its way into your voice, in between mixed undertones of reassurance and leftover amusement.

(Because what you’re about to say is nothing but the truth itself: ardent and vulnerable, despite the sheer casualness in the way you present it.)

“You’re the only one my heart beats for, Seishirō.”

Lazily, he peers up at you. “Promise?”

“I promise. Besides,” you add, snuggling deeper into the collar of his jacket, “your jacket’s way warmer, anyway.”

That could be attributed to the fact that he has practically become your personal heater by sprawling his body over yours on the couch. Nevertheless, the envious fangs surrounding Nagi’s heart slacken, and with your fingers brushing through his hair once again, he can’t help himself from murmuring into your skin, sounding more relieved than he has ever sounded, “Good.”

RIN ITOSHI who..

∆ Pure fluff, GN!R, romantic dynamic & mention of PRE-relationship, hint of knowing him pre Sae Event/Blue Lock, Reader is Rin's bestie, OOC[?], hint of Reader 'knowing' how to play soccer, grammar & spelling errors[? NOT proofed].

RIN is the type of person to look out for you even if he acts like an asshole.

RIN is the type of person to be extremely vulnerable and affection-hungry if you know him for long enough.

RIN who would not understand why you're still with him and has to have reassurance without miscommunication.

RIN is the type to really try for the ones important for him.

RIN is the type of person who'd be in a 4 hour call at 3 AM half asleep talking to you.

RIN, the touch starved boy who'll eat up any type of affection you offer him behind closed doors.

RIN who'll get butterflies easily when you compliment him.

RIN is the type to make doodles of his beloved best friend and crush in his math worksheet and forget that the teacher has to correct it.

RIN that used to give a small grin when he saw you in the bleachers waiting for him to walk home together.

RIN who'll help you in English if you ask plead for long enough.

RIN is the type to tease you.

RIN, the one who takes time to approach any type of affection but gives you head pats.

RIN is the type of person to feel extremely lucky to have someone like you by his side.

RIN, the type of person who'll look at something dumb and think of you.

RIN who thinks of you when listening to a song.

RIN who acts grumpy and angry but loves your fingers soothing his hair.

RIN that would allow himself to lower his guard on you.

RIN that'll ditch other people for you.

RIN is the type to not go easy on a 1v1 even if you're bad at soccer.

RIN who rolls his eyes when you tease his hand writing.

RIN is the type to give quiet compliments when you do something you're passionate of.

RIN who's a great person to have deep philosophy talks.

RIN who looks like a kid sitting at the table while waiting for you to finish cooking because he doesn't know how to.

RIN is the type to like dates in beautiful, quiet places such as the aquarium or a late stroll at the beach.

RIN that'll take you to ice skating just to make an excuse to hold you close if you fall.

RIN is the type to sleep soundly tucked beside your chest — covered in layers of sheets to shield him from the cold winter air and listen to your heartbeat.

RIN is the type to attach you and you only as his first contact in every social platform he has.

RIN who regulates his tongue when you're around.

RIN is the type to join you quietly in activities.

RIN is the type to walk away mid "conversation" with other people when he spots you.

RIN that loves the sigh of your peaceful slumber.

RIN is the type to act uninterested when you start to blab about how good looking he is.

RIN that'll dedicate poems but throws them in the trash.

RIN who lets you join him in his midnight strolls.

RIN, the one to not dare lose you in his sigh when in a crowded place.

RIN is the type to play horror games with you.

RIN, the boy that's grateful you're his.

tired

isagi x male!reader – 650 words – warnings: one knife metaphor, not proofread

note: a little comfort fic for these trying times <33 stay safe out there folks

Isagi wasn’t entirely sure what to think when he arrived home after practice to a silent house. After all, you were always there to greet him, it was the greatest blessing of his life. But tonight you were just… gone. 

“Baby? Baby, where are you?” He calls out, stepping into the house. At your lack of reply, his heart sinks in his chest, a chill seeping into his body. Isagi calls out a few more times, following the lights into your study, where you sit staring at a too-bright document marked with too few words.

Silently he wraps his arms around you, inspecting the mostly blank screen of the computer and the cursor that blinks oh so teasingly. Isagi rests his head gently against yours, glad to be near you at last after a long day of practice, though a voice in the back of his mind nags and nags about how strange it was to see you silent, how unusually cold you felt in his arms, how you had yet to type another word. At a loss, he only tightens his grip, a silent reassurance as the cursor blinks and blinks and blinks.

And then he notices the tears – A single glimmering streak tracing down your beautiful cheek. 

“Baby… you alright?” He whispers, heart shattering. Why, after all, should his darling boyfriend have a reason to cry? Why, after all, would some unknown thing feel the need to do harm to the single most beautiful soul Isagi had ever met? Why, after all, did that accursed blinking cursor take the sharpness of a knife to the heart of a tender lover?

Humming a cracked affirmative, you nod. But the tears, no matter how you try to stop them, betray your lie, and even if he were blind, Isagi would have known all the same.

“You’ve done enough work for tonight, sweetheart,” Isagi murmurs, pressing a delicate kiss to your tear-stained cheek, the salt an ache upon his lips. He pulls the chair away from the desk and lifts you tenderly out of it, carrying you the excruciating few steps to your room, where he laid you upon the plush mattress and places himself at your side.

The blankets shuffle underneath as you curl into Isagi, burying your face in shame. “Yoichi… thank you.” The words come out shakily and muffled.

“Work giving you a hard time?” Isagi asks, and your lack of reply tells him everything he needs to know. Would that he could do every piece of it for you, just to ease your mind. He wraps an arm comfortingly around your waist, fingers tracing shapes along your back.

“I know you like to be the big scary boyfriend… but just for tonight, let me do that, ‘kay?” He murmurs, “I’ve got you, baby, it’s gonna be alright.”

For a moment the two of you lay in silence, sweet silence broken only by the soft rising and falling of two souls breathing in sync. For a moment it seems as though every trouble in the world began to fade, insignificantly small beside the greatness of that winged thing called love. For a moment there was only you, Yoichi, and the unspoken beauty of the love between you.

But there was more to life than laying infinitely in a lover’s arms, though it would be so sweet if it were otherwise. Isagi places a final kiss on your forehead, wiping away the remnants of your tears. He smiles at you as if you were the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes upon. And, in all truth, you are. Tears and all.

“You get some rest, sweet boy,” He says tenderly, prying himself from the comfort of your embrace, “I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

The aromas that float in from the kitchen are unmistakable – scents that carry with them a sweet unspoken phrase. I love you. 

i kinda like isagi. just a little bit.