I Love Nagi - Tumblr Posts
nagi seishiro - complicated *:・゚✧

ft. nagi x f!reader, 18+ minors dni
cw: car sex, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, small age gap?
synopsis: it was no secret that nagi seishiro liked you, but you’d rather run a million miles away than tell him that his feelings were requited
wc: 2.4k
A/N: hi i’m back with more nagi brainrot <3
you weren’t stupid. people have been telling you for years that nagi was into you. plus when you were in middle school you may or may not have found a word doc saved on his laptop outlining all the reasons he liked you and how he was too scared to confess. you simply closed out the tab and moved on though. to be honest, you were glad nagi wasn’t the type to confess first. pushing boundaries past friendship would be complicated.
although if anything was complicated, it would be the knots forming in your gut as nagi pulled up his jersey to wipe off water from his lips after taking a swig. the flash of pale skin below his shirt that the movement exposed was not missed by your trailing eyes.
you’d be damned if anyone found out that athletes, specifically soccer players, sat at the top of your type. and how nice of nagi to become exactly that within the span of the 2 years you were away abroad.
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─ ✰ BREWING AFFECTION.

✧˚ · . NAGI SEISHIRO loves sleeping, soccer, and gaming. he also doesn’t mind you coffee too.
— warnings: coffee shop! au, fluff, crackfic, reo hating on readers barista skills, downbad nagi (hes oblivious af), maybe ooc?
— author’s note: NOT TUMBLR BUTCHERING THE QUALITY OF MY HEADER. THIS IS NOT OK.

"…so… this was the coffee shop you were talking about?” reo probes nagi tentatively, face crinkled in slight confusion. the small café nestled in the hidden corner of some obscure street— nothing extravagant, and certainly not what he expected. it’s a quiet sanction, only a few patrons savoring the quiet ambience of the modest establishment.
"mhm," nagi hums in affirmation. his eyes are glued to his screen, fingers violently tapping his phone as he skillfully maneuvers through the critical attack from the boss battle. reo doubts he was listening to a word he was saying. he raises his eyebrows skeptically, surveying the surroundings of the quaint little shop. he’s well aware nagi sacrifices fifteen whole minutes of his precious sleep on wednesdays and saturdays to walk all the way here— there must, has to be something special about this place. yet all he can spot are a couple of worn-down couches, cute decorations, and the smell of grinding beans in the air; nothing particularly stands out.
'is the coffee just that good?' reo wonders to himself, his thoughts interrupted when you hastily set a tray down at their table. your hair is tied in a messy bun, name tag displayed largely at the side of your stained apron. "i'm so sorry— morning rush! two triple foam lattes, half a shot of espresso with a dash of cinnamon, right?" the words tumble out, an apology and a question all in one, accompanied by a warm aura that absolutely nobody else in customer service seemed to carry.
…that’s… not…. even close… he deadpans. “um, actually—” he starts, but is quickly interrupted by nagi cutting him off. “t’s good. thanks.” he mutters, hazy half-lidded grey eyes boring into your oblivious, starry-eyed ones. the tips of his ears turn the slightest bit pink as he blows a tuft of his hair out of his eyes. his phone is completely discarded, ‘GAME OVER.’ pixelated largely on his screen as reo’s eyes widen slightly. …did he… die on purpose? no way. but… he was just about to beat the whole game…?
you smile giddily. finally, you got an order right!! “really? i’m so glad! enjoy your drink!” you eagerly exclaim as you walk away, feeling encouraged to pump out the other orders.
“…we ordered two large macchiatos.” nagi shrugs lazily, fiddling with the plastic straw in his drink. “tastes the same. ‘t’s too much of a hassle to correct them.”
“whatever,” reo sighs, “we’ve been waiting thirty minutes for this— it better make my mouth orgasm.” thirstily taking a huge slurp of the drink, he lets the coffee settle for a moment before not so subtly gagging at the aftertaste. how can someone possibly screw up this badly? it tastes like… tepid brown water. this should be a war crime. no offense, but who thought it was a good idea to hire you? “uhm… it’s *retches* certainly an acquired flavour…” he represses another gag as the fluffy white haired male tunes him out once again.
as reo contemplates the questionable quality of his latte, nagi remains blissfully unaware of his own feelings, doing what he does every wednesday and saturday morning— unconsciously admire you from a distance, his attention shifting from reo to you. his fingers idly trace the ridges on the rim of the cup, distractedly watching as you struggle to get the coffee to start brewing.
and he can’t exactly understand why his heart is beating out of his chest (perhaps he’s having a stroke), why his face is tinted red (is it the cold nipping at his cheeks?), or why he only seems to want coffee when you’re there (it simply tastes different). it all doesn’t make sense to nagi’s simple little life, a simple repetition every day; sleep, soccer, game.
nagi seishiro finds the easiest of tasks to be a hassle. yet for some strange reason, waking up early on wednesdays and saturdays isn’t one of them.


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