Tumgik
lunaviee · 3 months
Text
i wish you guys lived inside my head the fics in here go crazy
32K notes · View notes
lunaviee · 3 months
Text
how it feels asking for requests after being gone for months and having writers block😞😞 (guys pls im growing desperate)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
he’s so me
5 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 3 months
Text
WOOO FINALS ARE FINALLY OVER OKAAYYAAY SOOO GIVE ME REQUESTS PLS🙏🙏
i kinda wanna start fresh bc of how many drafts i have and it’s a little overwhelming soo yeah just throw things at me and i’ll see what i pick😈🙏
4 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Text
Welcome to my TED Talk
Tumblr media
Cw: f.reader, FLUFF. PURE FLUFF. Time-skip!Suna
FUN FACT OF THE DAY! Energy drinks make my fingers feel all tingly.
This is how your Friday nights developed since your second year in Inarizaki.
Popcorn, Onigiri, loads of sweets, cans of soda and energy drinks over your coffee table, two blankets on your sofa and, in this case, him beside your TV, holding your laptop as he introduced the badly designed PowerPoint he made with the saturated audio of 'Hotline Bling' by Drake as background.
"Welcome to my TED talk." He started, making you laugh already. "I'm Rintarō Suna and today's topic is..."
He pressed the space bar. "Reasons for why you should marry me.
"Oh, interesting topic. Let's see if you convince me." You chuckle, grabbing a can of soda and a gummy bear.
Suna and you had been dating since mid-term of the second year of high school and PowerPoint nights became a little routine of yours to spend time with each other at home and get out some laughs.
He chuckles and presses the spacebar. "One, I'm a pro athlete." He says, a photo of him in the gym appears and you cheer and clap jokingly. "Two," he continues, trying to contain his laugh. "I can blackmail you if you say no." A photo of you sleeping with your hair all over your face and drooling is on the slide.
"Oh, my God, Rin! Why do you have that?!" You gasp, looking at him.
"You look cute, okay?" He answers nonchalantly before going to the next slide. "Three, I'd literally do ANYTHING YOU WANT just for you to say yes."
You raise an eyebrow. "Anything?"
"Anything." He answers. "God, I'm willing to... to watch tangled and bluey with you whenever you ask just for you to say the word." He mumbles and your jaw goes slack before you laugh. "And... that shitty show you like."
"OH, MY GOD. Dude, you're soooo fucked up." You laugh. "By shitty show you mean Riverdale?" He nods and you gasp. "IT IS NOT a shitty show."
He raises an eyebrow and looks at you with a straight face. "Really?"
"...Okay, maybe they over-exploited it. BUT the first three seasons are great."
He rolls his eyes and goes to the last slide, which is totally blank and without sound"Four..."
He leaves the living room and goes to your bedroom. You hear the rummaging in the closet before he comes back, making you sit up on the sofa and look at him with wide eyes when he gets on one knee and opens the little black box.
"I love you... so fucking much. You're the only one who could -and can- read me like an open book. You're the one that has been with me every single moment of my life. No matter if it was the best or the worst. God, you even moved to Tokyo with me leaving everything and everyone you loved and grew accustomed to behind..."
If you weren't a waterfall by then, you are one right now.
"Rin, I-" He cuts you off.
"I'm not finished." He says, smiling. "So, sweetheart, my one and only, THE love of my life." You smile at the last nickname. "Will you marry me?" He asks.
"Yes..." You whisper nodding excitedly and he gets up and puts the ring on your finger before kissing you deeply. "I love you so much..."
He smiles and leans his forehead against yours. "Thanks for coming to my TED talk." He jokes and you punch him playfully on his shoulder.
"We were doing so good..." You chuckle. A few minutes later, with him laying on top of you, you speak.
"Hey..." You call him.
"Mhm?"
"Would you believe me if I said my tonight's PowerPoint was about the same topic?" He raises his head and looks at you. "What? You were taking your sweet time!" You say and he rolls his eyes before he kisses you again.
300 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Text
rain sucks. (i'll make you love it.)
isagi yoichi x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: your story with isagi yoichi, told through five moments, a bus stop, and rain.
notes: [6.25k words.] idk if isagi lovers still exist, but in the wise words of taylor swift: this is me trying ;)
disclaimers: cursing, reader hates the rain and likes to talk, break up with an ex (not isagi) in part one, loneliness in 'one' and four', self doubt in 'five' but isagi is quick to comfort, fluff -> angst -> fluff, rain kisses, romantic gestures, strangers -> friends -> lovers.
masterlist.
Tumblr media
ONE.
It has been a bad day.
No. That’s putting it too lightly. Today, June 20th, is the very epitome of shit.
The heated argument you had with your now ex-partner continues to linger in your mind. “I think we’ve been wasting our time” plays on loop like a broken record, and you wonder if you look as lifeless as you feel.
It’s quite a silly thing: how a single person can make you feel as if the whole world is ending. It’s even sillier how you devoted all this effort into a relationship that is nothing but a waste of time to them.
Waste of time.
Even after they crushed your already tattered heart and left it for dead, you can’t help but think how much easier it would be if you feel that way about them too.
Love is a stupid, stupid thing.
You appreciate mother nature for taking pity on you, at least. Rain in the midst of summer has never been your favourite thing - the air always being a little too hard to breathe and the dreary sky a tell-tale sign that the bus is going to be late that day. But today, you feel okay towards rain. The tears from the heavens above do well to cover up your own; the droplets become friends, accompanying you in your forlorn state. For once, you don’t complain about the broken roof at the bus stop letting rain in. For once, you find comfort in the very thing you hate.
And you cry a little bit inside, knowing that your ex has managed to break that part of you as well. 
“...Bad day?” A voice breaks you free from your stupor.
You turn to your left, and you feel your breath being taken away. 
There, a stranger stands. From first glance, the boy is nothing but ordinary. His navy - almost black - hair did little to set him apart from the rest of the crowd, and he dons the same Ichinan uniform that you (and the multitude of students in the area) wear. But there is something within his cerulean eyes. A fervour of sorts, one that is begging to be unleashed for the whole world to see. To the untrained eye, he is the very essence of average; to a trained eye, the stranger is utterly beautiful.
…Or, that’s what you would say, if he didn’t look like a wet cat. Not the ones featured in those animal shampoo commercials, but one of the sad, pathetically cute, on the verge of tears, literally sopping wet ones. Your breath is taken away, simply because the boy is a mess.
You can’t help but think that this stranger has had a shit day, too.
“Like you have no idea.” You say, voice drenched in exasperation. “Though… You look like you’ve been through a nightmare yourself.”
“A nightmare is an understatement,” he cradles his left temple with his palm. You laugh at his antics.
“Try me, then. Nothing can be worse than getting dumped, right?”
The smile on his face immediately falls, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for dropping a bomb like that to a stranger. “My god.” He exhales, “I am so sorry.” His crestfallen expression makes you feel as if he truly means those words.
“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Your eyes look down to the soiled concrete. “I’ll be fine, time will pass, after all.” (You say that more to yourself than him, if anything.)
The bus stop is silent for a while, and you feel as if you’ve ruined everything - for the second time today. It’s almost as if the bus stop boy knows, and is eager to change that.
“Well. My name is Isagi Yoichi,” he begins. “And my soccer coach told me that I am mediocre at best; that I don’t have what it takes to do what I love professionally.”
You look into his eyes once more, and the fervour that was once there is now shrouded in a sense of agony you know all too well. The same agony that is, without a doubt, present in your eyes too. Words fail you. And for the years you have shrugged as the therapist friend, you find yourself at a genuine loss.
“...I guess we’re in the same boat then.” You muster out, lamely. “But are you seriously going to let some old geezer tell you what to do with your life? I mean, he’s literally the coach of a no-name highschool team.” Your hands make their way onto Isagi’s, clasping his in-between yours. “Your coach has no right to tell you that when he’s failed at that dream already. Don’t let your coach dictate your worth; don’t let him stop you from shining. Ever.”  
He stares at your hands for a second, eyes widened and mouth agape. You are quick to detach yourself from him. “Forgive me,” a sheepish smile grows on your face.” “I speak too much sometimes.”
“No need,” Isagi’s hand moves to rest on the nape of his neck. “Thank you. I needed to hear that today, I think.”
Isagi smiles boyishly. It suits him.
“It’s no problem.” You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, suddenly feeling bashful at his gratitude. “Adults like that? They think they rule the world, but in reality—”
The squeaking of tires interrupts you, and the bus arrives exactly eleven minutes late.
“That’s my cue,” you say, and for a second, you could swear that Isagi seems disappointed. You make your way towards the bus, head turning towards his way before you get on board. “Thanks for the chat, stranger. I’ll see you around.”
You make your way through the barren bus, the driver eyeing you up-and-down for your soaked figure. And just like that, uncertainty and dejection return in waves. Talking to Isagi was a good distraction and all, but you can’t forget that your partner of two years just fucking broke up with you. You are alone now.
You want nothing more than to sleep it all off. This feeling of loneliness is a type that you would not wish on anyone - even your worst enemy. (Well, maybe someone. Your ex, being the said someone. But you like to think that is just the anger talking.)
“Hey!” Isagi’s voice echoes out. Like a ray of sunlight breaking through the grey skies of your mind, it is his turn to make your eyes widen; his voice bypassing the sheet of glass separating you two and reaching the storm that surrounds your heart. “Don’t let that past relationship stop you from shining too, okay?”
…Perhaps, you aren’t so alone after all.
The bus sets off, and Isagi sees you smile at him through the rain-stricken window. The boy hopes that his sentiments have reached you; he hopes that you’ll follow the same advice that you’ve given him. 
But above all else, he hopes that he will see you again.
Tumblr media
TWO.
“I hate this bus stop and its stupid roof.”
Isagi stops typing away on his phone. “You say that like, all the time nowadays.”
You’ve definitely sucked the life out of that phrase recently, but you take it as a good sign. An indication that you’ve healed.
The relationship that you once held dear is nothing but a mere memory of the past. The countless sleepless nights and time spent wallowing in your own self-doubt have all but ceased to exist. You realised that it simply was not worth your while to cry about a lost love, and to instead surround yourself with the love that remains from those around you. If anything, you are grateful for it: you have grown from that experience tremendously. By no means would you ever consider it to be a waste of time. And in the process?
You garnered a friend. A confidant. That break up led to the beginning of something magical. It led to a friendship with Isagi Yoichi, or, who you like to call, your bus-stop boy. 
After the fateful day, you started to notice his presence around more. At first it was in the halls of Ichinan, a mere wave shared between you two here and there. Then the new school year began, and Isagi was shuffled into your homeroom. You began seeing him from once in a while, to literally everyday.
His presence began to bleed more and more into yours, and your lives ended up intertwining together until there was nothing you could do to untangle them. Eventually? Isagi was your deskmate. He was cooking lunch for you, you two eating his homemade lunches together in comfortable silence. You began waiting for his soccer practice to finish, and Isagi would wait by your side at the station until the bus came. A rhythm that you two fell into, almost as easy as breathing.
In your chapter of new beginnings, there is no Isagi Yoichi without you, and there is no you without Isagi Yoichi. An inseparable duo, you two are dubbed as. 
You like to think you know a lot about him now. Maybe even go as far as to say you know everything about him, as he knows everything about you.
“It lets the rain in, Isagi.” You whine. “And besides, why is it even raining in Spring? Tsuyu* season isn’t for like, another month or two. There’s no way anyone could like this weather. No way.”
“I don’t know… I don’t mind it every now and then,” he says. “I like rain. I think it’s nice.”
Pause.
Well, maybe you don’t know everything about him.
“What? Since when?” You put your hand on your heart, gasping in mock-offence. “I didn’t know that I’m friends with a traitor.”
He rolls his eyes at you. The audacity. “A traitor, really? Just because I like a bit of rain here and there?”
“It goes deeper than that, Isagi!” You say. (It really doesn’t. You just want an excuse to complain a little, and a sassy Isagi Yoichi is always a fun sight.) “What’s there to like anyways? I don’t get it.”
“I can try to explain it for you, if you’d like.”
“Please do.”
“Have you ever seen what it looks like after it has rained?” He asks. You shake your head in response. You’ve never been the type to stick around long enough to see the sky stop crying. “You should. It’s wonderful, y’know: the glow it leaves afterwards. The streets look like they’ve been reborn - you can literally see the dirt on the concrete being washed away and given another life. If you’re lucky? A rainbow might come and say hi.” Isagi smiles at the little comment he makes.” That sight alone is worth getting your books wet and missing the bus every now and then. And it is just one of many reasons I have, honestly.”
You find yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. It’s cute, when he’s like this. You’re glad that he’s comfortable enough around you to show this side of himself. “I like it when you infodump, Isagi.”
“Did my infodump manage to change your mind?” A tinge of hope emerges in his voice and eyes. You shake your head. The hope is gone just as fast as it came. “Well, maybe the main reason will.”
He gives you a mysterious smile, and proceeds to say nothing.
“Aren’t you going to finish that sentence?”
“Nope, I don’t think I will.” Isagi says. You shoot him an incredulous look. “I’ll tell you… If you don’t fail your social studies paper.”
“Wha— Hey! Now that’s just being mean!”
He laughs. “So then… Why do you hate rain so much, anyways?”
“Changing the subject, really?” You say.
 He merely shrugs in response, giving you a teasing grin. “Just roll with it. I promise I’ll tell you,” he pauses. “One day.”
You kick his foot in response, making an impromptu game of footsies ensue.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Isagi lifts his hands up to the side of his head, surrendering in a fit of boyish laughter. “No but really, I’m curious. Why do you hate it so much?”
“I don’t really know. It’s just—“ You stick your leg out precariously, as if the rain is going to melt your foot. “I hate the rain. I always have, and probably always will.”
A lull of silence passes by - not dissimilar to the one that happened on your first meeting with him. It’s different this time, though, as it is not a silence that is born out of two strangers not quite knowing what to say. It went deeper than that, more intimate, more comforting. Isagi puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “Well,” he begins. “One day, I hope I can show you how beautiful rain can be.”
Isagi smiles - a pretty, pretty thing.
There, amongst the dreary skies and wet cherry blossom leaves, is sunlight.  Sunlight, in the form of him. Him, the Ichinan forward. Isagi, a boy who has nestled his way into your life almost too easily.
Yoichi, who leaves your heart hammering a bit too fast for comfort.
“Come on, you’re going to miss your bus.” Isagi’s hand finds its way to yours, locking into place like they were made for eachother. “It’s darker than usual. I’ll walk you home today, okay?”
He drags you towards your usual window seat, tapping the two matching keycards you share while entering. Isagi whispers a quick goodnight as he sits on the seat next to yours.
A smile makes its way towards your lips. Warmth filling up your entire body, entire soul. 
You adore his sleeping face; you adore him.
Wait. Adore? Uh oh, you think. I might be falling in love.
*Tsuyu: The rainy period in Japan, generally spanning from May to July. The direct translation is ‘plum rain’, because it coincides with the season that plums ripen in Japan.
Tumblr media
THREE.
Isagi is the first one to break the silence.
It’s weird, how he called you out to the bus stop out of the blue. Meeting together here in the past was always out of necessity: one born from a desire to go home and to have a chat with your best friend to end the day on a high note. Never, is the meeting at your sanctuary intentional, like it is now.
You couldn’t help but rush to get here. Not when he texted you like that: frantic and brimming with urgency.
“Sorry for making you come all this way, especially at this time of the night.” He says, carefully. As if he is tiptoeing around eggshells. Like you are strangers again. Isagi is never this careful around you, and hasn’t been for a while now. The change of pace perpetuates fear into the depths of your soul like no other.
“It’s fine.” You tentatively look up from your lap, preferring to look at the night sky instead of his face. I’d do anything for you, when you text me like that. “It’s just… Your message; the tone you’re speaking to me in right now. You’re seriously worrying me, Isagi.”
Isagi lets out a sigh, one quivering with nerves and worry. He places a hand onto your clenched ones, rubbing comforting circles onto the dorsal side. That’s weird. You didn’t even realise you were shaking. “You know that letter from the Japan Football Association I got a few days ago? The one we were so excited about?” 
“The one I forced you to accept, right?”
“That’s the one.” He smiles fondly at the memory. The one of the two of you in his room, him being at an absolute mental blank, while you - the ever-so lovely you - was crying tears of joy - a stark contrast to the tears you shed earlier that day, watching him lose the qualifiers. You egged him to accept it, because ‘nothing would make you happier than to see him pursue his dreams’, you said. Words that sent an elation of joy to flood across his body, for he didn’t think that he could love you more. “…Well, I went to that address they gave us today. And that letter didn’t exactly tell the whole story. Of what it is, what their goal is.” Isagi continues; you feel a lump beginning to form at the back of your throat. “Yes, it’s a player improvement project. But I have to stay at this camp, I think. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying there, and I can’t contact anyone that’s not a part of it either. All I know is that it starts tomorrow. Officially.”
“What…” You muster out, at a complete loss for words.
“It’s called Blue Lock, and I’m going for it.” He places his unoccupied hand onto his chest, eyes igniting with a kindred spirit like no other. “I think this is my best shot at becoming the best. To play beyond a national level, and make you proud. But…” He pauses, pinching your chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. “I won't go if you don’t want me to. I won’t, and will never do anything that you don’t like. So just say the word, and I’ll stay. Right here, right by your side.”
It hurts so damn bad. All of this, how it is so out of the blue, how there’s a possibility you may never see the boy, who has been such a pivotal aspect of your life for the last year or so, ever again. You want to be supportive - heck, you’d go to war just to see Isagi shine. But it hurts. You love him, for goodness sake. Every bone in your body wants him to stay, to not break the sacred normalcy that you have shared with the man that makes you smile brighter than anyone else can.
But the skies are clear. And the right answer, the solution to all of this, is even clearer.
“You’d have to be stupid to not go.” You say, voice unwavering with confidence. However, your eyes are anything but. “You have to go, Isagi. I don’t want to destroy your dreams like that and ruin the potential you have. I could never live with myself if I made you stay.”
Isagi kisses you on the forehead, once. “Thank you,” Twice. “Thank you, so much.” He leans his forehead against yours, and his teary ones meet your equally watery ones. “I’m going to miss you more than anything. I promise, I’m going to become number one. Just for you.”
“You better.” You chuckle, choking on a sob. “Shine brighter than anyone else, Isagi. I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”
He nods in response, and you stay like that for a while. For minutes, hours, even. Foreheads kissing each other, and staring into his cerulean eyes like it’s the last time you’ll ever see them.
“I never told you the reason, didn’t I?” Isagi breathes out.
“What?”
“The reason why I love rain as much as I do.” He says. You let out a careful no, wondering if he did tell you, and you just weren’t listening.
“It’s because,” Isagi begins, reaching for your right hand and opening it, palm facing up. “It was raining when I met you.” You feel him reach for his back pocket, and Isagi pulls out a pristine white envelope, placing it into your hand. It is sealed with red wax and decorated with golden swirls. Beautiful. Like it came right out of a fairytale. “…And you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Your body quivers, and you feel the tears threatening to return again. “You’re so corny,” you say, half-flustered and half-shy. “And I still hate the rain.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, looking at his lips in a way that just friends don’t. “But Isagi, you. You are the best thing that’s happened to me too.”
He looks at your lips too, and you anticipate for something more - to go beyond what you two have built so beautifully. To go beyond friends, and transform into lovers.
Isagi pulls you in for a tight hug instead. You reciprocate. Those thoughts disappear as fast as they came. 
“So..” You clench the letter tight within your hands, and you cringe at the feeling of droplets meeting your shoulder. (Truth is, you didn’t know if you were cringing at the fact you wished he had kissed you, or if it is the impending sky-fall. You choose to believe the latter.) “Do I open it now?”
He pulls away from the hug first, and smiles, embarrassment painting his features. “I’d prefer it if you read it later.”
The droplets fasten, quicker and quicker, and Isagi pulls you closer to him, putting you out of the rain’s way. “Oh come on! It has to rain now, out of all times?” You heave a great sigh, burying your head into the nape of his neck.
“It gives us an excuse to stay here for a little while longer, doesn’t it?” He gives you puppy dog eyes. 
“As much as I’d love to stay with you all night, it’s getting late,” you say, laughing inwardly. “I don’t want to worry your parents. Actually— have you even told your parents about Blue Lock yet?”
He shakes his head. “No, I wanted you to be the first one to know.”
How sweet. “Then you should hurry home,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t hold you up.”
“You sure?” Isagi holds your hands tighter than before. I don’t want to leave you yet, his eyes scream.
“I’m sure.” You squeeze his hands in response. I don’t want to let you go either, your eyes say.
Isagi leans in once more, bumping your noses together, eyes meeting in a silent agreement. But we have to. And we’ll be okay.
“Promise that you won’t forget me?”
“I could never.”
And so he goes. But you stay. You remain seated, sheltered beneath the shoddy bus-stop. A sense of déjà vu passes, it’s just like all those times before. But it’s almost painful this time. Your bus-stop boy is walking away from you, instead of seeking shelter alongside you. You laugh at yourself, bitterly. You don’t know if you’ll ever move on from him, or if you even want to. Not when your forever-person has pried his way into your heart like this, not when Isagi feels like home.
You pry the wax seal off the letter, unfolding the paper that is encased inside in a hurry, a tinge of excitement coursing through your veins.
‘I still haven’t shown you the beauty of rain.  Will you wait for me? Love, Isagi.’
A laugh escapes your lips. Of course you would. You’d wait forever, and forevermore for him. He didn't even have to ask. It’s something that you would’ve done as one would breathe air. And in a way, you realise that there’s a certain calamity to your circumstance. 
You love him so much that you’d willingly let Isagi tear down everything you’ve ever known. Whether it may be something silly like your animosity towards rain, or the idea of letting someone love you again. You’d let him do it all.
And that is terrifying. But exquisitely so.
A barrage of steps sounds itself out in the quiet of the night, a figure making its way to you - closer, closer, and closer. Oh god, someones not trying to kill me, are they?
Then you see a familiar sight. A boy with his hair in disarray, black outerwear soaking wet, looking just like the wet cat from your first meeting but this time more mature and more determined, and suddenly he’s pulling you into the rain with him, grasping onto your shoulders, locking his eyes onto yours and oh. He’s kissing you on the lips now. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t leave without kissing you first. I think I’d go crazy if I didn't.”
“I think I’d go crazy too,” you chuckle, resting your head against his chest. “And yeah. Of course I’ll wait for you, dummy.”
“You opened it already?”
“I can’t wait to see how you’ll make me love rain.”
…You should’ve known he would’ve given you that kiss first.
Isagi is not the type to leave you disappointed for too long, after all.
Tumblr media
FOUR.
The days seem to blur together in Isagi’s absence. 
The last year or so was, for a lack of a better word, lonely. Filled with rumours that you drove your best friend mad and he ran away, or that you murdered Isagi and the police have yet to discover his body, you felt as if the only people in your life for the last few months were your family and Isagi’s parents.
The sudden isolation is getting to you. And you know it. It shows in the dreariness of your demeanour; bears its teeth in the darkening eye bags that have crept their way onto your face. You’re not certain that he will be able to recall your face anymore. Heck, you can’t recognise yourself anymore either. Gosh, who would’ve thought that being Isagi-less for a little while would do this to you?
But today brings something new to the table: hope. Confirmation that all of this waiting has been worth it after all. You’ll get to see him in an hour or two come morning, and it will be enough.
 Or, at least, that's the timeframe you predicted last night. 
“There have been reports of mass delays in the Saitama Public Transport Network due to heavy storms and rainfall. Civilians can expect their regularly scheduled buses and trains to be postponed for up to two hours or more—“
You throw a pancake at your TV and scream.
The what-would-be one hour trip to Tokyo is now possibly three, and since your butter fingers slipped and set the wrong alarm last night, you are already running late. 
You just hope that Isagi’s parents are still waiting for you outside.
Ding!
You reach into your pocket for your phone, and a message from Isagi’s mother illuminates the screen.
‘Sorry, Honey. We left already. Issei is worried that the traffic is going to hold us up from getting to Tokyo in time.’
Great. Just great.
It seems as if the universe is practically begging for you to not see Isagi today. But after not seeing him for months - not even a hi, hello, or a single sign that your Isagi is safe and sound - you only have one thing on your mind. 
Screw the universe. I need to see him. Screw it all.
You chuck on a pair of navy converses, making your way towards the bus stop that started it all. The streets are busier nowadays. With various roadworks and several shops getting renovations left and right. However, the one location that you know like the back of your hand remains abandoned, frozen in time, almost. Still on its last leg, with a leaky roof and ivy adorning the wooden frame.
The seats have grown moss on them from the increase in rainfall nowadays. And so you choose to stand instead - quietly observing the pouring downfall, thoughts running amok.
It’s almost scary, how time has simultaneously been impetuous and sluggish lately. And you know it ties back to Isagi. It always does. You haven’t seen the boy in ages, actually. And that, in itself, is an understatement. It isn’t in the 'two weeks off school’, or the ‘we haven’t talked since summer break’ way, but in an ‘I’m honestly forgetting your face since it is now a new spring without you’ way. 
…You don’t think you’ll have the heart to ever tell him that.
There is one thing that scares you more, though. And that's in the way that you’re forgetting how Isagi looks when he wears his smile. Does his lips curve upwards or downwards? Do his eyes turn into half-moons when he’s happy or does he bear his cerulean eyes for everyone to see? All of these are questions that invade your mind during sleepless midnights. Questions, that you never thought you would ask at all.
You can only hope that his smile is better than you can imagine. That he glows radiantly like he does in the fragments that appear in your memory every once in a while. Will happiness look good on him? Will it feel like a shame that you’ve been missing out on it all this time?
Maybe that’s the real reason why you’re worried that Isagi won't remember you: because you can hardly recall his face yourself. As in, truly, know what he looks like. You know Isagi from the blurry photos on your phone taken at 3AM sleepovers, and the display frames lined around his family’s home. The big picture itself is easy to see. The little things - the quirks of his that made you fall - have been much harder to recall.
But you do remember a few things. Arguably, the most important ones.
Your love for him; Isagi’s promise. The way he kissed you like he needed you to live; the way you cried for him amongst the skyfall.
The way Isagi taught you that it’s okay to love. 
And it’s okay to be loved back.
For now, that is enough.
Droplets continue to batter against your woollen jumper, the rain drenching your entire being. It soaks your hair, makes the knuckles on your clenched fists a light violet, disguises the tears falling down from your face. The rain is ever so violent, leaving a mess of you in its wake. For the second time in your life, you let the rain do as it pleases. You let it destroy the outfit you meticulously planned, wreak havoc on the converses Isagi gave to you on your birthday. All in hopes that it will eventually cleanse your soul. Cleanse the pain, the happiness. Wipe the slate clean, as the rain does with the pavement, until you are reborn from the ashes and live a life where you aren’t so, irrecoverably in love with your best friend.
But you know, deep down, it will never save you from your calamitous love. That even if you are reborn, one word will remain in your heart. One, sacred word that you keep like an oath. 
Promise.
You wonder if Isagi remembers his promise in the same way that you do. 
It’s the only reason why you are going to the game today, after all.
Your hands loosen from the fist you’ve been keeping this whole time, deep crescent moons adorning the insides of your palm. A slip of paper flurries out from your hand - swishing with the wind in a way that a feather would. It dances around, until it lands in the puddle that has formed beneath your feet.
Shit. The ticket.
You bend down and clutch a now-soaked sheet of paper in your palm, tiny inscriptions that adorned the sheet now bleeding together. The only thing now visibly readable being: ‘JAPAN’S U20 VS BLUE LOCK’.
Rain really, really sucks.
(You’ve never hated it more.)
The bus finally arrives amidst the downpour.
(Yet, for some reason, a small part of you is excited to see the rainbow that comes after the storm.)
Tumblr media
FIVE. 
Isagi has always loved the rain.
Ever since he was a young boy, the rain has always had a certain allure that captivated him more than most. In his eyes, puddles held miniature worlds within them, with pebbles acting as land formations and stray twigs imitating people. Enchanting. Raindrops race each other down window panes, with him as an eager viewer. Simply spellbinding. However, nothing has ever beat the feeling of playing soccer amongst the rainfall. The feeling of watching the opponents around you struggle to run in the mud, as you calculate the best direction to head in; pieces of grass decorating your cleats in the aftermath like a badge of honour. Getting sick afterwards is a simple price to pay if it means transforming the pitch into a battlefield. Rain makes the game something to remember.
It’s the duality of rain that makes Isagi treasure the phenomenon dearly; rain can be simultaneously beautiful and destructive at the same time. Which, shockingly to him, is the very same fact that makes you despise it so much.
Your face appears within his mind. Isagi smiles.
Ah yes, you.
The person who despises rain more than anything else in the world. Who groans at the slightest hint of darkening clouds, and acts as if drizzle is akin to acid rain that will obliterate everyone in an instant.
Nowadays, media outlets constantly poke and prod into your relationship with one another as Isagi’s reputation grows - at a speed only fathomable in his wildest dreams - wondering how he can love you so much when the two of you are so different in every sense.
“…They just don’t understand,” he said to you on a day where it was all too much. “They’ll never understand how you’ve changed my life, is all.”
“Me? The person who nearly forgot you? Who doubted you and thought that you would’ve forgotten about them too?” You angrily clenched your head. “I don’t see how you’ve forgiven me so easily for that.”
“I told you already,” he began. “When I was gone I had the same thoughts as you. I forgot you for a bit, too. I doubted you, as well. I could never hold that against you, because I did the same, and– and… I regret it everyday; I know you regret it too.” Isagi inhaled sharply. “But at the end of the day, we both remembered the promise. And that’s enough.”
“…Right. I’m sorry, Yoichi.” Your eyes locked with his through the gaps between your fingers. “I love you so much, y’know that?”
“I know.” He grabbed your left hand, giving it a swift kiss. “I love you more, infinitely.”
Isagi cherishes you like he is a marauder and you are the finest jewel; he looks at you like you’re the only person who ever matters. And that’s true. Because to him, you are. With the countless sacrifices you’ve made for him; sticking by his side every step of the way; waiting and waiting for years; being the brunt of scrutiny from the media - heck - even your peers in high-school prior to his Blue Lock debut, Isagi is unsure if he will ever be able to repay you for all that you’ve done.
…But he does have an idea on where to begin.
Isagi averts his attention to the sights outside the bus window. He wonders why the rain is extra pretty today. The beauty of the raindrops seem otherworldly currently - a cascade of water flowing down overflowing gutters, iridescent hues lining the streets that he grew up on, children jumping into puddles with no care in the world. The rainy downpour from the heavens above seems unfaltering - even against the brilliance of Saitama’s lights. And amidst the hustle and bustle - adults finding their way into comforting warmth - there is you. Waiting in the rain for him underneath the bus stop, face twisted in discomfort, twirling the umbrella in your hand round and round.
It is no coincidence that the rain is so charming today.
No. 
It’s prettier, because of you.
Always, you.
His sweetheart of many years.
“Hey, stranger.” You greet him as Isagi steps outside of the vehicle he practically grew up on, ushering him underneath the umbrella you brought with you.
You, who he loves more and more everyday.
“Hey yourself.” His eyes twinkle with mirth as he takes the umbrella from your hands. “It’s been a long time since we were both here, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” Your face lightens up with the smile that he loves so much. “To think the last time we were here together was when…”
He looks into your eyes, face erupting with a mix of his boyish smile and laughter. “...When I kissed you. Yeah. I don’t think I could ever forget that night.”
The look on your face tells Isagi that neither could you. 
“Even though we’ve had countless other kisses since then, that one is still my favourite, y’know?” Your hands move up to cup his face within your palms. “Yoichi, you don’t do romantic things like that anymore.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.” You stick your tongue out at him.
Isagi lets go of the source of shelter you are sharing, and lets it drift away with the wind. “Hey! We’re gonna get soaked!” You turn your back towards him, hands desperately trying to catch the stray umbrella that seems to be more than happy to escape. “C’mon Yoichi! What was that for?” 
“Turn around for me.”
“What?”
“Just do it.” He says, a smile evident in his words.
Isagi sees you gasp, the sight of him knocking the wind from your chest. 
There he is, kneeling with his right knee down to the floor - pants getting soaked from the wet concrete below. And in his outstretched hands, lays a small, black velvet box, a diamond ring embedded within its centre.
“Will you marry me?” Isagi asks, starry-eyed. Voice soft and vulnerable.
One day came, and now you know Isagi is right.
Rain can be beautiful.
Tumblr media
EXTRA.
“Hey, Isagi. What’s the date today?”
“June 20th. Why?”
“No reason,” a small grin makes its way to your face. “Just curious.”
Tumblr media
338 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Text
ermm just wanna resurface this bc of the new chapter LMAO
i’ll update again soon TRUST
INFRUNAMI — rin itoshi SMAU
(400 follower event/special!)
Tumblr media
,, cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me “
Tumblr media
⨳ SYNOPSIS — rin finally realizes what he had before he lost it..is it too late? or maybe you feel the same…?
⨳ TAGS — college au, hurt/comfort, classmates to friends to lovers, social media au, f!reader, idk what i’m doing
⨳ STATUS — ongoing, started: may 27th
⨳ AUTHORS NOTES — yes ik the song is about his ex but umm we’re ignoring that!! it’s basically the same thing methinks…anyways, this is my first smau and event! hope u all enjoy!! + idk how much i’ll upload so be patient!
Tumblr media
PROFILES ✮ TAGLIST
01. - complaints
02. - denial is a river in egypt
03. - wingman?
04. - jealousy…?
05. - ,, yn, you’re an idiot… “
06. - sae is done with rin
Tumblr media
252 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Text
okay hi😇
uh so huge elephant in the room, infrunami smau post after me being gone for MONTHS😭😭i rlly do hope you guys enjoy it and i do apologize for being so inactive. my school and personal life has gotten so cluttered for me and my summer break finally felt like i could destress, so i kinda lost motivation to write since then. BUT recently i’ve been finding myself to be less worrisome and i’ve been having some writing thoughts so i think i’m back?? i’m really not entirely sure but hopefully i can provide some good little smau chapters and drabbles for u guys🙏🫶
ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ENJOY THE NEW CHAPTER!!! (it’s so bad it’s just filler😞)
4 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Text
05. ,, YN, YOU’RE AN IDIOT… “
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PREV | NEXT | MAIN EVENT
erm….hi uh how y’all doing🧍(yes i’ll make a post about my absence💀) ngl this is kinda just a filler chapter😭also ignore the time stamps…i got a little busy (i kinda hate this chapter..)
TAGLIST: @jaeheekangslover @disoriented-fish @itzsora @tamimemo @punkhazardlaw @bxddiebloss @userwithlotsoftime @anurst @shaeshaeshaes @l0v3do11 @reiners-milkbiddies @ilytrinsworld @hyeenct @yunxbin @raidenshogunmommy @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @ultraviolencezs @yoichiislovie
80 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Text
😇😇
Tumblr media
okay i’ll post that by tomorrow GOODNIGHT.
7 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 4 months
Note
sunarin w a super super sweet girlfriend
ding!
Tumblr media
. . . suna rintarou. my kind of loving.
Tumblr media
note. female reader for this work specifically. so true, so true.
Tumblr media
“no.”
“suna.”
“no.”
“rintarou.”
“no.”
you playfully sigh, combing your fingers through your boyfriend’s slightly damp bangs. rintarou’s breath came in short, shallow inhales and exhales as he tried his best to look at you through hazy eyes.
“i’m not sick,” he grumbles, his hand attempting to weakly push yours away. “just . . tired.”
“yeah?”
he nods slowly. “yeah . . .”
“okay,” you reply quietly, checking his body’s temperature on the thermometer. “mhm,” with a nod, your palm found itself on his burning forehead, wanting to confirm if he really was sick or not. “you have a fever, babe. 38.1 degree celcius.”
“seriously?” rintarou makes a sound similar to a nasally whine, feeling like absolute shit.
“seriously,” you affirm. “it’s nothing a little tlc won’t fix.”
before rintarou could voice out his protests about having you take care of him—in fear and worry of you getting sick too—you had already left his bedroom to do who knows what. he thinks you’re a bit stubborn, but who was he to tell you that when he could also be just as stubborn, maybe even more so than you are right now.
by the time you returned, your boyfriend was already out like a light. he slept curled up on himself, two blankets draped over his tall figure. he looked so small like this, so vulnerable, as if he were a cowering puppy on the side of the street.
careful with what you’re about to do, you quietly coaxed rintarou to lay on his back. you could tell he’s started to stir, his eyes fluttering, yet they stayed close in the meantime.
“y/n?”
“hm?”
“you’re going to get sick,” he murmurs.
you chuckled. “it’s ok,” you told him, placing a cold washcloth over his forehead. “i’ll be fine, rin. you should focus on getting better, ‘kay?”
he weakly nods.
“do you want to eat anything?”
“just water.”
“you can’t just have water,” you frown. “and no jelly fruit sticks, either. you need to actually eat a warm meal.”
rintarou mirrors your frown, though it ends in a pout because it just hurts to frown. he must’ve been really exhausted.
he mumbled something you didn’t hear.
“what was that?”
“anything you make—“ he takes in a sharp breath, muscles going stiff as you wipe another cold washcloth on his neck. “is . . good.” rintarou tries to shift away from what you’re doing, though his attempts were fruitless because he knew he couldn’t really push his body to move further than it already had.
“i’ll see what i can do,” you conclude.
sick rintarou was by far the clingiest rintarou you’ve ever encountered in your relationship yet.
“careful, it’s hot.”
he allows you to spoonfeed him the first few bites of his food, but he does it himself after. rintarou glances at you every so often, his head still not wrapping around the idea that you were actually here, taking care of him like this.
the sentiment could make him cry.
so loved, he feels so loved.
suna rintarou was the luckiest man on the planet to have you.
once he’s finished, rintarou once again curls up on himself. this time he’s facing you, his hand holding onto your arm as he had a pout once again evident on his face.
“something wrong, rin?”
“can i have a kiss?”
you laugh quietly. “no.”
he whines, shaking his head in disapproval.
“just one, please?”
“get some sleep.”
“y/n.”
“suna.”
“don’t call me that,” rintarou says, narrowing his eyes. “it’s rintarou, rin or babe, maybe even the love of your life to you.”
“ok, rin. no, you can’t have a kiss.”
“why not? i’m not going to sleep, then.”
you sigh softly, pulling a mask over your face. leaning in to indulge your boyfriend with his simple request, you gave him a soft kiss on his forehead.
“better?”
“mm,” he yawns. “stay?”
“just for a bit.” just until you fall asleep.
rintarou, satisfied, lets himself be pulled into slumber. heart overflowing with love for his sweet, caring girlfriend. he may not say the words often, but he showcased them in different ways.
at least the “in sickness and in health” part of a marriage vow was cleared and set.
Tumblr media
noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.
2K notes · View notes
lunaviee · 5 months
Text
— LOVE, TENDERLY ; ITOSHI RIN
-1.2k, hurt/comfort, fight with parents mentioned, reader wants to pursue a literary career, insecurities and second guessing about choices in life, crying reader and gentle rin
a/n- I saw a reel on insta where the bf was wiping his gf's mascara and it was so cute that I was fuelled to write this. I'm literally writing after 2 months so pls spare me. Also I love rin. REBLOGS + INTERACTIONS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!
you could always count on your lover to support your decisions. Rin was your biggest admirer, he was all you could ask for and more.
Tumblr media
When the doorbell of his apartment rang approximately at around 10:41 in the night, Rin scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion.
He was not expecting anyone this late. He looked up at the door in suspicion when the doorbell rang again.
Taking his reading glasses off and putting his book down on the coffee table, he uttered a 'coming' before walking off to open the door.
His eyes widened in shock, concern and a little bit of fear at what he saw.
There you were, standing on the other side, arms wrapped around yourself as you sniffled. You were supposed to be at a family dinner. But you were standing in front of him, mascara and eyeliner running down your very glossy and very red eyes, staining your cheeks black.
The sight in front of him, made Rin's heart drop as a sense of unpleasantness and worry consumed him whole.
"Hi," you croaked out, wiping the fresh tear that streamed down your face which  in turn smudged the black makeup residues.
"I'm sorry, I..I just didn't know where to go. I didn't want to be alone. Can I come in?" Your arms tightened around yourself as you looked at him hopefully.
Your words broke his chain of thoughts as he pulled you inside and locked his door.
He sat you down on the sofa and gave you some water which you gratefully drank. You didn't quite realise how scratchy and dry your throat had been until you drank the water.
"Thank you," you offered him a gentle smile.
"Wait here," with that he seemed to disappear somewhere only coming back with a packet of wet wipes.
He sat down and took your face in his hands, inspecting it thoroughly before taking out a wet wipe.
"Dinner went south? Mhm?" He asked, voice gentle like the cool breeze of an autumn's day. It soothed you a bit.
"Yea..." You replied in a murmur, feeling the damp wipe against your already tear dampened face.
Rin's hands worked skillfully as he gently wiped off the runny mascara from around your eyes and cheeks. There was a shared silence between you two that was comfortable, welcomed even.
"I want you to look up for me," he said and you obliged. "Want to tell me what happened?"
"Got into a fight with my mum. She said stuff about me trying to pursue a literary career," you felt your chest tighten as the earlier fight with your mum, who you thought would support your decisions, replayed in your brain.
Rin only hummed, urging you to continue as he slowly went to wipe the other side of your face.
"She said it's not a promising career, would not sustain my life and who knows if it could work out. She said it's better as a hobby, something that I do in my free time. She's so sure I'll fail Rin, I'm scared," your voice broke as a fresh stream of tears fell down your eyes. You bit your lip to suppress any sound from coming out.
"I was so sure that I wanted to do this and now...now I'm second guessing. I mean, what am I even doing with my life? What if she's correct and nothing works out?" You inhaled, exhaling shakily from your mouth. Your breaths were heavy and Rin was livid that someone could break you this badly.
He remembered all the days and nights you spent working on your unfinished debut novel draft, scraping, editing and doing it all over again till you believed it to be perfect. He was there through your writing blocks and how you felt helpless when it happened. He would read your work for you, smiling at you proudly because that's what he was. He was always so proud of you. He always provided you with comfort whenever you needed it. You need it now more than ever.
He kept the wipe down as he finished removing your makeup and wiped away your tears with his hands. He rested his hand on your cheek then. Calloused as they were due to years of football training, they blossomed in you a feeling of solace. A much needed one. You closed your eyes, leaning into his hands as you took it in.
"I think you are wonderful," he rubbed his thumb against your cheek in a comforting motion.
"I think you're wonderful and absolutely brilliant at what you do. Your writing is splendid y/n and never ever let anyone make you think or feel otherwise," you let out a breathy laugh at his words as you opened your eyes to look at him.
"Oh no no don't laugh. I'm dead serious right now," and he was. He was absolutely focussed on your face and he spoke from his heart, with all his heart.
"You have a way with words and you execute them brilliantly. As far as not knowing if it will work out goes, really, of how many things are we absolutely sure about? Life is unpredictable. What if it does work out? That's a fair possibility isn't it?" He tilted his head as he smiled at you, bringing a small smile to your own lips. You didn't even notice but your sniffling and your tears had stopped.
"I know that but it's just so aggravating you know? She just gave me this reality check. She said everything I sometimes feel so insecure about like I don't know, voicing out my worst fears or something," you sighed as you flopped back on the sofa pillow sighing.
"Tell me about having a shitty family," he pushed back his fringes — which messily fell over his eyes again — as he fell beside you, putting his legs up on the coffee table.
"Tell me something Rin," you rested your head against his shoulder, snuggling against his muscular body, his arms engulfing your figure and bringing you closer.
"How do I know everything will be worth it?"
"You don't and that's the beauty of it," he looked down at your face, placing a kiss on your temple.
"You know I never knew if football would be right for me. I knew I was skilled but there were these thoughts in the crevices of my mind that would crawl up to the surface sometimes and I would worry. It took practice, a whole lot of shaping and belief."
"You have to believe in yourself. You have to believe in your dreams. Keep writing, no matter who says what, no matter what happens. You are skilled, you are smart and you have so much potential. Sometimes the thoughts will crawl up but you've got to push them down okay? And when you're the biggest author out there with bestseller books and millions of fans around the world, remember I was your first fan. Also, always your biggest one," He placed another kiss on your forehead as you were left in awe of the words he spoke. You could only grin at his softly smiling visage.
"What?" He whispered.
"I never knew you had a way with words," you took his face in his hands, looking up at him with adoration and love.
He mimicked the look on your face as he slowly wrapped his hand around your wrist, leaving a chaste kiss on your fingers.
"Eh. I try. Gotta watch out for my love now don't I?"
Tumblr media
367 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 5 months
Text
✷ ITOSHI RIN x reader. fluff, reader is a menace and rin just can't get enough of it. warnings: pointless drabbles = my fav note: i miiiisss writing on here ! sorry if there's typos. love y'all mwah
"ugh, this lipstick is too bold. i think a simple lipliner and some red gloss will be better."
"that's literally what i suggested earlier, but okay."
you let out a quiet and playful huff at the sound of his voice from the open bathroom, while looking through your makeup for that specific shade of brown lip liner between all the multiple nude, red, and other coloured ones. your look was entirely complete, except for your lips. it was frustrating. "okay, i admit i was being a smartass at first—"
"you're always being a smartass, though."
"and since when did my husband become so sassy?" you retort quickly as you scoff, giving him a look.
"...just saying." he shrugs while his eyes casually wander down your face and figure from the door frame of the bathroom. after all these years, he still thinks he's being sneaky while looking at you as if you're his air. you hold back a smile at the obviousness of it all, continuing to search for that stupid lip liner.
then you smell the familiar cologne and feel his warmth against your back as he exits the bathroom and stands behind you, his deadpan expression from the reflection in the mirror making you feel butterflies because you're the only one who knew what he was thinking. in fact, you even knew that he'd think carefully before finally speaking quietly in your ear, his voice being sweet like honey.
"you look stunning."
"thank you, rin." you flash him a cheeky smile after you find your lipliner, and he hands you a make up wipe from one of the compartments as if it was a piece of cake to remember where all your specific make up and skincare products were.
so as you wipe off the lipstick you currently regret wearing, his warm hands find their home on your hips, squeezing gently as he rests his chin on your shoulder and observes in the mirror how you wipe your lips and begin outlining them with a brown pencil. those sharp and calculating teal eyes of his looked at your lips with great interest. from your cupid's bow to the feeling of your lips against his that he could never forget— he adored it all.
however, as you accidentally get a little too much of your berry colored lip gloss on and make a noise of frustration, he instantly handed you another make up wipe. what a sweet husband.
but when you refuse it, the confusion on his calm face is enough to make you chuckle in amusement.
"keep the make up wipe for yourself." you speak quietly, staring at him as you turn around to face him and wrap your arms loosely around his neck, your heels making it way easier for you to be face to face with him.
he gives you a very lost look.
"why would i need a—"
he knows why, even before he finishes that sentence of his. it's not like he wanted to complete it anyway. he'd die a million times to have you interrupt his sentences with your lips on him.
your targets are familiar. first his lips, then his left cheek, right cheek— chin and forehead. his pale skin was now covered in shiny red lip prints.
oh, and did he mention that he'd die a million times (once again) to see the smile on your face that you offer him after those kisses?
"it's fine now. got rid of the excess. that make up wipe is yours to use, honey." you say with a soft snicker, patting his chest lightly as you grab your purse and go downstairs, leaving him in your shared bedroom with your lip gloss all over his face and a pounding heart inside his ribcage.
rin sighs, fighting the urge to smile as he pinches the bridge of his nose, a soft groan escaping his lips as he stands there for a moment, his knees weak and heart racing from what just happened.
he stares at the make up wipe in his hand for a moment, cursing under his breath as he wipes the gloss off his skin.
you win for now. he'll get you back some other day.
840 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 5 months
Text
[𝟎𝟒:𝟒𝟒 𝐏𝐌] ⋆ ˚。⋆ yoichi isagi x reader
Tumblr media
✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, fluff fluff, period comfort, fem! reader (no prns used) established relationship. pet names, second person (you/your/yours). word count : 1k
✩ — notes ⋮ i feel like this is soooooo ooc but practice makes perfect or wtv && periods are js the worst i hate it here :(
Tumblr media
you should’ve known it was one of those days the moment you woke up with a throbbing headache and a queasy feeling in your stomach. but you were too excited for your date to think about menstruation and migraines.
so you went about your day, reveling in daydreams about what your boyfriend had planned for you today. you sipped on tea and nibbled on a steaming bowl gyudon whilst humming lovesick tunes in the kitchen.
everything was smooth sailing until it was time to get ready for your date. an overwhelming wave of blood came crashing down on your happiness and your plans.
isagi wasn’t fazed when you’d sent him a blunt text telling him your date was off.
you rarely canceled on him, relishing in candlelit dinners and clandestine picnics. always dressed to the nines with your beautiful,heartstopping smile…except when you were on your period.
the only thing you wanted to do then was shut everyone out and soak in self loathing and sadness. you’d go as far as to locking your door to keep the ray of sunshine out.
yoichi was practically immune to you hurling insults and keeping him at arms length.
he had a spare key and he’d even go as far as to climb in through your window despite your apartment being on the fourth floor.
his spatial awareness had him prepared for anything and everything
not up to half an hour after you’d sent the text you heard the faint clinking of keys and footsteps padding in the narrow hallway of your apartment . you could tell yoichi isagi was here from the way everything became excruciatingly brighter
“angel?” he called, wandering through your apartment. you groaned as your rolled out of the fetal position you’d fallen asleep in. you sat up groggily, his oversized jersey slipping off your shoulder
“go away isagi” you yelled, “i don’t wanna see you anymore”
you hoped using his last name would deter him but your bedroom’s door swung open and your boyfriend stood in the doorway clutching a grocery bag and the prettiest flowers you’d ever seen
“you holding up okay?” he asks, placing the flowers down on your dressing table. he would’ve put them in a vase but he knew that would set you off, because you would rather do that yourself, “figured you got your period again”
“i told you to stay away from me” you groaned, throwing a pillow at your dark-haired boyfriend. it landed softly on the floor a few inches in front of him
“you know i can’t do that, not when my angel has cramps” he laughed, picking up the pillow nimbly and tossing it back onto your bed, “i got you some stuff”
“i can see that” you snapped, but you watched him curiously beneath the cocoon of your duvet, heart fluttering at the grin blooming across his face as he emptied the bag’s contents on your bed.
“it’s nothing much, just some snacks and painkillers”
“don’t want them” you huffed, flopping back onto your pillow, “take your snacks and go find some other girl to date”
“‘s not fair! i can’t do that” he frowned, his blue eyes clouding with sadness and slight frustration
“why not?”
“because i don’t want to and she wouldn’t be you, angel” he sighed, sitting down on your bed. the crisp (f/c) sheets slightly rumpled under his weight
“just go away” you grumbled, covering your head with the duvet and shutting him out of your vision. if you could see his face you knew you would burst into a heap of tears
isagi resiliently climbed into the bed with you, his arms wrapped around your torso gently with your back pressed into him. isagi held onto you as if you were fragile and made out of the most delicate glass. he fit you like a glove and his blue eyes dripped languidly with concern
“you know i don’t mind right?” he whispered as he trapped you in the solace of his arms
“huh?”
“taking care of you. i don’t mind, it’s my favourite thing to do” he hugged you a little tighter
“ichi get off me” you pouted, “what if i bleed on you?”
“‘s just blood i don’t really care” he smiled, placing a kiss on your exposed shoulder. he sat up nonetheless “do you want to sit on my lap?” you shook your head fervently
truth be told you did and despite isagi’s pleas and sweet whsipers about how he didn’t care about getting stained you’d feel embarrassed if it actually happened
he scooped you out of the duvet and lifted you onto his lap artfully, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “let me kiss away your pain angel” he said softly, placing the sweetest of kisses on your warm body.
your resolve to be relentlessly moody crumbled almost instantly
“that’s not how it works” you giggled before your eyes filled up with tears and you whimpered, “it hurts so much” isagi could feel his heart breaking in half, wishing he could take away all your pain and keep it for himself to bear
“‘m sorry angel” he cooed, kissing you softly, “where does it hurt the most?”
you buried your head into his chest and let out a sigh of bliss, “like my lower back”
“here?” he asked, he flattened his hands on your back, warm palms circling softly and providing soothing heat for your aching body
“mhmm” you hummed, closing your eyes and breathing contently, “thank you ichi…i’m sorry for being mean to you”
“don’t apologize angel, it’s okay” he smiled, pulling you impossibly closer to him “i love you on your good days and your bad days”
“i know” you said, not missing the surprised look fleeting across his face, “i love you too ichi” he smiled again, kissing your soft lips gently before you snuggled into your perfect boyfriend
“wanna watch a movie?” he asked, grabbing the remote without so much as disturbing you. “it doesn’t have to be my neighbour totoro again, you’re probably sick of it by now”
“i’m not” you said, looking up at his face. his cheeks were dusted with a warm pink. “i’ll never get sick of you” his heart fluttered in his chest as he stared lovingly at your face. the corners of your lips turned upwards and he captured them in a searing kiss
“good” he said, brushing his thumbs across your cheekbones gently, “because i’m not going anywhere”
Tumblr media
©y2kuromi 2023 please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.
177 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 5 months
Text
im normal for like 3 months of the year but not consecutively
20K notes · View notes
lunaviee · 5 months
Text
❊ miss americana & the heartbreak prince - itoshi sae . . from one formal to the next, everything works out one way or another
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
your first junior high dance is in the company of your best friend, itoshi sae.
you had to try hard to convince him to go. really, really try to convince him. and you had to get his mom in on it, too, that's how hard you had to try. he was content to stay at home in those stupid little red basketball shorts that he either 1), never washed or 2), had 7 pairs of, binging sports highlights and discussing things you don't care all that much about on the couch.
but this night was special, you'd insisted. it was the very first dance of the very first year as official junior high students. you were both 11, practically ancient, and how boring would it be to stay home when there were adventures to be had? and besides, you had a plan. tonight, you were going to tell your best friend since diapers that you had a super-uber-mega crush on him, and maybe give him a hug after (if you were feeling bold.)
you have it all planned out. after finally managing to convince him to come to the dance with you, you'll steal him away from your friend group and take him to the hallway next to your maths class, where no one ever goes. and then, you'd tell him about how mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back, and then you'd ask if it was true. and then he'd say, 'oh my gosh, yes, i love you,' and then high-five you, and then you'd be boyfriend and girlfriend. because that's how it works, right?
well, you made it halfway-ish. and to say that is just to say you managed to force him to the dance and sneak him off into the side hallway. oh, he looks cute. he's shorter than you but that's fine because he'll get taller before you guys get married. and his hair is gel-slicked and looks kind of silly, and you know it's his mom's doing. his suit is frumpy and ill-fitting and he's wearing cleats instead of dress shoes because that's just how junior high boys are.
he's been grumpy all day, as per usual. but you keep catching him staring at you. and he keeps doing that little tiny smile-ish thing that he does, where he smiles a little but not a lot so he just looks constipated instead. and oh, you're in bad luck, because as soon as you're in that maths hallway and the music from the dance goes muffled and it's just him, and it's just you, you seem to forget everything you've planned to say.
"what did you want to tell me?" uh-oh. uh-oh, this is bad. oh, it's so bad. your best friend since diapers, your future husband, the one person you could never get sick of, was going to think you were an absolute idiot. how embarrassing! how embarrassing, oh no.
"uh," you can't meet his eyes, and choose to fiddle with your fingers instead, pulling at your sloppily painted nails (green to match his eyes, like asami had insisted), "well— um, i actually— i just— to.. um."
wow, this was lame. you're 11 now, where is your class? where is your wisdom? oh, how humiliating. "i just—"
"you like me."
you pause. you stare. he stares back, and his expression goes from that same old neutral to that silly little stupid kinda-smile. and then, panic sets in.
"oh, haha! i do? who told you that? who? no seriously, who? or, or, what made you think that? why do you think that? i— i don't like— or, well, i don't not— no, stop, stop, actually. who told you? was it akane? oh, i knew akane was a snitch! ignore her. ignore this. i mean, unless you— but. hey, it's—"
"so you do, or don't?"
this was sae. this was itoshi sae, and this was how he's always been. no-nonsense, straight-froward, abrasive, blunt. all hard around the edges but so, so soft at the center like those really good cookies they sell at the cafeteria. only for you, usually, and his baby brother, and that was pretty much is.
sometimes you forget just how much you like him. it's a lot, you like him a lot. so, so much. he's the same boy who meets you on the side of the curb when you call him crying from the home phone, because your parents are angry again. he's the boy who will spend forever with you working on your maths homework when you're having a hard time understanding. he's the boy who will split a cafe cookie with you after he sees you in the stands of one of his games. oh, he's that boy. he's the boy you super-mega-ultra liked, and maybe-kinda-sorta loved a little teensy tiny bit. you exhale.
"i do."
your voice is small. your hands twist together anxiously and you can't do anything but stare at the floor. and in your peripheral vision, you see little red cleats take a hesitant step closer, and closer, and then— a hand lands on top of yours.
oh, it's sae's. oh, he's holding your hand.
well, not really. but it's close enough, and you look up and his cheeks are rosy and he looks like an angel, oh lord, he's so cute you might be sick. all he says is, "good. me too, or something."
the very first middle school dance of the year is where itoshi sae stops being just your best friend, and becomes your boyfriend. and that word changes meaning over time— years go by. somewhere in that mess, there's a tentative kiss, and a whole lot of 'i love you's' and a dozen more firsts, all with each other, all with a world of love. awkward pre-teens go to teenagers. how lucky you are, that mieko told you that mai told her that akane told her that keiko told her that she thinks he likes you back. because she was right after all.
Tumblr media
it's your boyfriend who asks you to prom. and you’re mad at him, but you say yes anyways.
it’s the first time you’ve seen him in weeks. prom night is the same night he flies back in from spain for the holidays, and coincidentally, the first time he’s talked to you for more than 20 minutes. you pick him up from the airport in your dress, and he’s in his suit. you’ve already missed your dinner reservations— you’re trying not to care. but this was your senior year. and you were so, so excited. the restaurant was his favourite kind of food, and it was in an aquarium, and reservations were hard to get, and he had caused you to miss them because his flight was delayed.
you know it's selfish. you know, because how could you not know? how was it his fault that the weather in spain was so poor that he was forced to wait at the airport longer than expected? how was it his fault that it just so happened to rain? but the evil, burning, and bitter side of your heart replies: it's his fault he was gone in the first place. it's his fault he was in spain and not by your side, to begin with.
normal 18-year-old couples don't have to take a 16-hour flight just to see each other, your anger says. and you know it's right.
when itoshi sae, at 13, told you he was going to be a star, you hardly believed him. actually, you recall your own incredulous laugh, and that cute way the space at the corner of his eyes wrinkle when he's annoyed. you didn't believe him, but then less than a year later he was gone to spain hellbent on becoming the best.
he used to call you every night for hours. as often as he could, he'd call or text. and he'd talk to you in the way that he only talked to you. with a softness. with a tender kind of love. the infinite kind. and whenever he got the chance to fly back, he would, to spend time with you and rin and his parents, but mostly you (as he'd tell you after he made you swear not to snitch). he used to love you, and act like it.
but as years blurred past, and he got taller (not by much) and you both grew older (not by a lot), things shifted. changed. spun in a circle and landed facing the opposite direction. he called you less. sometimes, when you called him, he'd not pick up even though you knew he was free. and he visited less, and he stopped talking to rin but wouldn't say why. sometimes when you'd visit his mother, you'd see rin stealing glances at you from the curves and corners of the house. he stopped saying hi to you a while ago, too.
you drive to your senior prom in near silence. there's some music playing on the radio— nothing either of you had put on, just the default top hits of 2017— and no one says anything and you think that might be better. because you're thinking about the way he used to buy him and his little brother ice cream on really hot days with his very own pocket money, and you think if you hear his voice you might start ugly crying and ruin your makeup. and then you think about how it's your senior prom, and you're about to cry, and your boyfriend can't even look at you, and oh, you're holding back tears all over again.
the first thing he says to you that night is, "i was about to do that," when you open the car door by yourself. you are so, so angry. but you just smile like you're not, because it's not his fault you resent his leaving. it's not his fault you miss his mom and brother but can't visit anymore without it being awkward. it's not his fault he's gone, and it's not his fault he acts like he hates you. it's not his fault but you despise him so, so much.
he puts a hand on your waist as he walks you towards the venue— some stupid country club kind of thing, you didn't care enough to read anything but the address. his touch feels wrong— it didn't always. but these hands are rough, and you don't recognise them. you stop walking.
all around you, everyone keeps moving. there are girls in frills and pretty, glittery, long dresses. suits and ties, and the smell of cologne, and the floral perfume. it's dark out, now. and the people aren't walking into the building— they're leaving. you catch someone's watch out of the corner of your eye. you've missed your senior prom.
"what's wrong?" sae's voice hardly registers. you feel the tears fall.
"we missed it."
"hm?"
you turn to him. he looks like he couldn't care less. and you abhor him.
"we missed the dance."
sae blinks. his eyes are blank— maybe they've always been. maybe when you were 11, you were too dumb to see. maybe he's always hated you, you think, because he replies, "oh. back to the car?"
and you're really crying now, because he doesn't even care.
you can't manage words, not until he speaks for you. "don't cry. it was just some stupid school dance."
you wonder what this looks like to people. a boy, looking like he couldn't care less. and you, makeup streaked with tears, like your world just collapsed.
"did you really care that much?"
"did i care?" your voice comes out mangled, "did i care?"
he looks startled at your reaction, the most emotion he's shown tonight. you continue:
"of course i cared that much. of course i did. because how long ago was our last date? the last time we did anything together? the last time you could look me in the eyes? of course i care. not about this stupid dance," you're out of breath, but you continue, "i care about you. you, i care about you."
he looks the same amount of placid, and the same amount of blank. and you'd cry harder if it didn't hurt so bad. he says nothing so all there's left to ask is, "but do you even care about me? do you care anymore?"
his face betrays nothing. and you're taken back to juvenile days, and ice cream and sun, and soccer practice after school, and annoying little brothers and love notes in lockers. and you think that this is not the same boy you loved. and you don't know where that boy went, but he's not here, he's not the one standing in front of you staring instead of holding you while you cry.
and he doesn't look the least bit sorry.
you knew the answer to his question before it even came out of your mouth. maybe you've known for years. maybe you just had blind faith in him, and your aquarium-restaurant reservations, and a stupid, cheesy, lame high school dance that you couldn't care less about to prove that there was still a tiny bit of hope. but it'd just shown you that there was nothing left.
you feel like a set of bones beneath a dress. you feel like a ghost in a crowd of people. you feel like a spectacle, you feel insane. you must look it, too. maybe you are. there is a coldness to sae's voice when he finally speaks. a coldness that is new. that you haven't heard before. you're scared.
"are you done yet?"
you're not crying anymore. you're just feeling strange.
you hate how you care about how sae's going to get home when you leave him standing there and walk back to your car. your shoes— bought just for today— tap on the pavement. the shoes and your heartbeat. your car's engine. the doors slamming shut. people laughing outside. the radio's top hits of 2017. that's all you hear, that's all. and when you get home and turn your car off, you sit in the driver's seat and cry.
you can hear all your thoughts. you can hear the ugly desperate cries clawing your throat raw like an animal. mascara-stained teardrops land on your dress and trickle down your chin, and burn your eyes. you don't know when you lost him. was it when he'd first went to spain? was it when he'd first cancelled a visit back, or hung up the phone? or was it before then? has he ever liked you, or did he only hold your hand back at that middle school dance because he felt like he had to? and your tears taste like melted ice cream and memories, or maybe you're just crazy.
you loved him. did he ever love you?
angry tears. sad ones, too. your hands need to destroy something so they pull and clench and squeeze your legs through the fabric of your dress as you dry-heave. the ache is not empty. it hurts, it burns. your lungs burn. your heart is heavy and hot and disgusting. how you feel is wrong. everything feels wrong.
everything feels wrong, and now you're single on prom night.
what's even left for you, now?
Tumblr media
being 21 is weird.
you're all grown up, now. you've got friends, and you have just recently landed a job at a big journalism company while you wrap up university. and today's your first day going out to a company event instead of sitting at a desk all day, and you're so excited.
the event is some kind of gala. you've been told it's to celebrate the opening of a new sports thing that your employers have invested in that you don't really know too much about. and it's not quite your specialty but you'd never miss out on an opportunity to dress up and get a free fancy dinner as a representative for your company, who were big investors. you wonder who'll be there. who are some sports people? actually, what kind of a stadium was this? a baseball field? is that even a stadium?
why were you even invited? you don't have the slightest clue about this investment. but that doesn't matter, because you're there now, stepping out of your company car in a pretty dress that you'd chosen for yourself. you wonder when the last time you've been this dressed up was. maybe your cousin's wedding, when you were 17? or, you think with a twinge of something bitter in your chest, was it your senior prom at 18?
whatever. it doesn't matter. you don't care about that anymore— it was only the night your boyfriend of 7 years essentially told you he didn't love you anymore. no big deal. you were 21 now, and you could do cool things and work, and stuff. how cool is that? how cool are you? too cool to be still caring about your ex-boyfriend. your very handsome, attractive, professional football player ex-boyfriend, who was on the cover of every sports magazine, and the headline of every news channel. you wonder, as you walk in, how many of the people under the roof of the venue know his name. how many who'd probably kill for a signature. you wonder what they'd think if they knew you used to be the one to love him.
pause. why were you thinking about this? you don't care, you definitely don't. you're done caring when he's probably already forgotten your name. god, you're supposed to be 21. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 18. you're 21, and you still feel like you're 11. at what point are you meant to grow up and get over it all?
you shake your head and your older colleague ms. sato gives you an amused look. "something wrong, dear?"
"nothing," you smile at her awkwardly, "just a little nervous. i've never been out on a company event before. who else is going to be here?"
ms. sato tsks and thrums her fingers against the wrinkled skin of her other hand. she's wearing a conservative green velvet dress. you think she looks pretty. "i think more sponsors will be there. and i'm sure they've got some sports folk, too."
you purse your lips. the venue is big, and ornate, you see as you open the door for ms. sato and walk in behind her. red and gold walls, chandeliers, a regal display of wealth that you most definitely could not live up to if you were here on your own dime. and the dining hall is no different. tables with nameplates written in some fancy scrawl that you can barely read spell out your name and ms. sato's name across from each other towards the front of the hall. out of curiosity, your eyes flicker to the seat to your right.
and your heart stops in its chest.
in that same hardly legible font, reads a name that is all too familiar. it's nearly the same as the name you'd scrawled on love letters in junior high, and nearly the same name as the contact you used to text every single day and every night. it's nearly the same name you'd call out at airports, looking, always looking, forever longing to be around him. the name on the nameplate reads 'itoshi rin.'
"are you sure nothing's wrong? you look pale." ms. sato's voice cuts through your thoughts, you clear your throat. "of course. it's nothing, ms. sato."
you pull her chair out for her before taking a seat in your own, as the room starts filling in and someone says something about a prepared meal being served at 8 on the dot, and announcements starting soon after that. you feel frozen in your seat as you fidget with your hands in your lap. you're paralysed with fear, too scared to check if the name next to rin's is sae's. it couldn't be, right? because they fell out. just like you and sae fell out. they wouldn't attend the same event. plus, sae's always thought that events were boring. fancy dances, fancy dinners, they were all the same— all wastes of time. he wouldn't be here.
it hits 8. you think you could maybe handle rin— but he doesn't show. dinner is served, and the two seats to your right remain empty. and you are so, so relieved internally because who are you kidding, you couldn't deal with rin, let alone sae.
you see his face everywhere, and that's enough. magazines, underwear ads, video edits, all of it. his fans are everywhere. like he's some kind of hero, and you guess he is when it comes to football. you wonder who he's kissed since you. unless what was a weird thing to think about your exes. in that case, you don't wonder that at all. and you never have, not for a second.
it's 8:05. still, no one has shown. at 8:10, the owners of the stadium give some speech about investments, and blah blah blah, are you meant to know or care about any of this? because you don't know, and you don't really care. you're much too focused on the food, and the stress, and all that. 8:20, speech is over. 8:30, people start socialising. 8:35, drinks are brought out with a second course. 8:40, with a little champagne in your system, you're feeling pretty good, actually. less nervous, for sure. if rin hasn't shown yet, he isn't going to. and sae? that was basically fully off the table now.
8:45. you feel better than fine, now. 4 champagne flutes down (because ms. sato doesn't drink, but felt bad saying no when they were offered, and she thinks you'd be a funny drunk) and you wonder why you've ever felt nervous in your life, ever. stress was a thing of the past. ms. sato laughs at you when you make a face at something someone annoying and snotty says, and she slaps your back and tells you she's going to the restroom and to make sure you don't die while she's gone.
8:50. the door to the banquet hall must've opened at some point, but you didn't notice until the chair to your right slides out. your heart sinks before you even see him. because itoshi rin, in the flesh, takes the chair next to you.
you haven't seen him in years. not since your 18th birthday, you think— because his mother had made you a cake and forced him to tag along to drop it off for you. he'd told you happy birthday, and you'd teased him about how you remember he used to have big cheesy smiles and bigger cheesier dimples when he was just a little baby, and he'd scowled and told you that he's 15, not some kid. how old was he now? if sae was 21, then rin would be 18. you've seen him places too, on advertisements for some football program, on sellouts for cologne and such. he's made a name for himself. for himself, not his brother and himself. you'd find it in yourself to be proud if you weren't a little drunk and a lot sad.
maybe he catches you staring from the corner of your eye after he sits, because he glances over and does a double take before looking straight ahead like he's in the army and his commanding sergeant's just told him to look alive. you worry at your lip with your teeth. you'll regret this in the morning. "rin? 's that you?"
he stiffens. you try not to giggle, and you think you fail. "yeah."
"i hope this isn't weird. do you remember me?" it's more of a question to yourself than anything. but he answers, because it was said out loud so he probably thought you were talking to him and not to your own brain. hm. maybe you're drunker than you thought.
"yeah." his response is terse and awkward. but then he says your name. and you remember his little voice a hundred times higher, and you remember tears in his big toddler eyes webbing his lashes as he cried your name about a scraped knee. you soften. "i've missed seeing you. how've you been?"
he looks nervous. does he look nervous? or do you just think he looks nervous? he opens his mouth, then closes it, then replies, "good. i didn't know you'd be here."
you smile amicably. oh, you love this boy, love him like he's your sweet little brother even now. "i'm representing my company. they— or, we— are investors. i'm here as my mentor's rubbish bin for food and drinks she doesn't want, basically."
rin snorts. you want to pinch his cheeks. would he be mad if you did? probably. "well, i—"
the seat next to rin's slides out. another full champagne flute is placed in front of you and instead of thanking the waiter, you feel sick to your stomach. junior high dance sick. senior year prom sick. you're sick.
itoshi sae sits one seat away from you.
you're sick, to your stomach. you're silent and stiff and stupid, so stupid, because you thought you were over him. but this is the first time you've seen him in person since the year 2017, when he flew out to be your date to your school's prom, and then flew away that same night and never came back. you down the champagne and close your eyes. you're 21, not 18, not 11, you're 21.
you're 21 and itoshi sae's still got you acting like a fool.
the rest of the dinner is awkward and silent, at least for you. ms. sato shows up and strikes up a conversation with anyone who would listen, and rin listens, and you can't look at sae so you don't know what he's doing. but you can imagine him sitting there, bored. why was he there? rin and him don't talk anymore. or do they? it's been years, after all. you guess they've made up. your stomach churns. ms. sato notices but doesn't say anything, not until after the dinner ends and you practically race out to the company car without another word to rin, just a quick, tight, smile. over his shoulder, before you leave, you see a mess of reddish-brown hair. you think you might be sick. you hope there are barf bags in the car.
"now, dear, what is wrong with you?" a patent red leather handbag slaps your lower back as you wait outside for the driver to show. ms. sato gives you a look.
you blink a few times. "did you just hit me? that hurt, i think."
"answer the question, child."
you wince. "the boy next to me was like, my, like, brother-in-law but not actually."
ms. sato raises a brow. "itoshi rin? the professional football player?"
you nod fervently. "yes. him."
"so.. you used to date itoshi sae?"
you look at her blankly. "how did you know?"
"they're famous, dear."
"oh," you wrinkle your nose, "right."
ms. sato chuckles. "well, we've got time to talk. tell me the story."
and you tell her. you tell her everything, and a little more. about ice cream, and your 18th birthday cake, and his mom, and his hands, and the way he used to love you and the way he just stopped one day. normally, you wouldn't run your mouth like this, you'd like to think. you're more refined. but the drinks you've had are working hard, and your emotions are working harder, and oh, you're a mess. at least you don't look like one tonight.
ms. sato listens patiently. or maybe she's just doing this to laugh at you about it later. but she listens either way. she smiles at some parts and frowns at others. but when you're done vomiting up all your words and all your feelings, she just sighs. "7 years is a long time."
you blink. "yeah. i guess so, yeah."
"and so is 18."
"excuse me?"
ms. sato chuckles. "you said you've known him since you were babies. it ended when you were 18. you said you loved him until you were 18."
"oh. i did. yeah."
"and 21 years is even longer."
now, you're really confused. "21?"
"21. because you've loved him since you were babies, and it never really ended."
oh. oh, okay. you don't know how you feel, not in the slightest. you're confused and you're nervous, and you shouldn't have eaten all that food because now you might actually throw up instead of just feeling like you're going to throw up.
and then someone calls your name from behind you.
the voice is familiar, and you turn without thinking, of instinct. because you'd always go to him, no matter what. and that scares you, and you're even more scared because you haven't seen eyes that blue in forever.
"sae." you try to keep your voice curt and calm. he's in a suit. it's a good one. tailored. and he still looks young, and handsome, and like your lips would fit perfectly against his, and like your hand could feel right holding his, and all that. and you're so, so scared.
ms. sato excuses herself in the background somewhere, and all this is eerily familiar. people in dresses and suits, leaving. cards driving away. your heartbeat in your ears. it's all familiar.
he takes a step closer. you take one back. he stops, stares, and says, "how've you been?"
you know him well. you know this man far, far too well. you recognise the clench of his jaw and the set of his brows. something like determination paints his face. you'd be more confused if you weren't so nauseous.
"good," you test your voice, continuing when you hear it hold steady, "i'm good. and you?"
he opens his mouth to reply. but you open your mouth again. because you can't seem to do anything but run your mouth today, it seems. "actually, i was hoping you wouldn't be here. really, really hoping. because," you laugh, "i did not want to see you today. or ever again, really."
sae's expression would be unreadable to anyone but you. but you can see it. he's hurt. and you laugh again because god, what does he have to be hurt about? you continue, "i was fine with just seeing the magazines, and ads with you half-naked, and all that. and i was fine with hating you for hating me. but now you're here and it's all different and wrong, and i'm so mad at you right now, and i was fine an hour ago before i even knew you were going to be here. i was so fine."
he blinks. "are you drunk?"
snorting laughter, you turn your head. you can't look at him. you can't tell how you're feeling anymore. "sure i am. the drinks were free."
his eye creases in a tiny smile and you'd swoon if he wasn't the same person who'd broken your heart after he'd held it in the palm of his hand.
you wonder what he's going to say. would he tell you you're being dramatic and making a scene? that one was likely. would he sue you?maybe. maybe he'd kick you. maybe you'd throw up on him. maybe he'd cry. you smile a little— you'd like that, actually. would be funny. you'd enjoy it.
"i'm sorry."
you must be making a face. you must look confused, or disgusted, or disgruntled, because he explains, "for vanishing."
itoshi sae apologising was not on your list of possible responses. you are at a loss for words. but you find them after a beat of silence, "you're sorry?"
he shifts uncomfortably. "i am."
scoffing, you roll your eyes. "funny."
"i'm serious." sae steps forward again. you don't back away. you can't, and he continues:
"i left you. and that was," he pauses and breathes, "the worst thing i've ever done. every day since then, i've missed you."
sae really hasn't changed, because that's all he says. so blunt, so forward, so harsh. never any room for detail, or explanation. never any time. you're silent so you think he might take that as a cue to keep going.
"i fixed things with rin, too," he says, "and i wish i could say it was out of the kindness of my heart but it was because you always told me i should. you've always made me better. and i—"
"you couldn't stand that." you're so angry. at him, for coming back and apologising like it was all a small deal. you're angry at ms. sato for getting you drunk. you're mad at yourself, for loving him so much even though it's a weak excuse of an apology. "oh, you couldn't stand that i was making you kinder, or better. you never wanted to be good. you've been horrible, always, probably."
and then you stop. "no. no, no, i'm sorry. i don't— i don't think that—"
"it's okay. however you feel about me.. it's okay. you can hate me. it's okay."
and your resolve crumbles.
"i could never hate you," you whisper, "because i love you so much. always have, for so many years and however many days, and i've loved you when you were good or bad or both, or neither, and i'm so mad at you because i never stopped, even when you hurt me. even then."
sae is silent. you are too. people move all around you. they're not listening, they have places to be. because you're 21, and they're all older too. and they have things to do.
"you still love me?"
he sounds quiet, almost. meek, maybe, if that was a thing that he was capable of being. you are doing your best to hold in tears.
"yeah," you say, "yeah, i do."
sae looks at you. "i've never stopped. i never could. i tried. but i never stopped loving you. and i've never been good at showing it, but it's the truth. and i'll be sorry forever, if you'll let me."
this is so unlike him. but people change, and you suppose you've been too separated to know anything as of late. your heart aches. his eyes are still the same. his voice is a little deeper. his shoulders look more broad. you think you're in love again. you think you never stopped being in love. you know it.
"so show me."
and sae kisses you. you hadn't forgotten how good a kisser he is but you think he's gotten better, as his hands find your back and yours take his jaw. maybe he's kissed other people since you. now you're mad again so you kiss him harder, and deeper, and you would usually have more decorum but it's sae and he's famous so if he doesn't care, why should you?
there is so much left unsaid. a hundred things. a million, maybe, a billion. he will spend his life making this up to you. you know he will. but for now, there's no hurt. for now, there is just love that has been cut off for far too long. for the first time in years, you're alive at this moment. you're 11, and 18, and 21, and you're everything that he's loved, and you're everything he's touched, and you are everything to him and you feel it. you deserve this. your blood runs hot, his tongue is in your mouth, you need this. and you love him. you love him to death.
this kiss is the summary of years waiting, and years longing. it's the summative point of ice cream and bike rides, and late night car rides and study dates, and running mascara and lonely nights. this kiss— it's been a long time coming.
Tumblr media
flowers chosen: pink camellia & lilac . . longing & joy of youth
❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
895 notes · View notes
lunaviee · 5 months
Text
WHEN THE SUN RISES - SAE ITOSHI
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: You have doubts about your relationship. Sae provides reassurance.
contents: early established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, reader is a tad insecure, mentions of other couples and pda, talks about all things mushy with love word count: 1.1K a/n: waaahh cant believe i didn't post anything for my husband on his birthday im so terrible - this is something short and sweet ;-; i haven't posted anything in a bit bc I've been so tired lately LOL
Tumblr media
You have doubts. 
Doubts about your work performance, test scores, your friendships, and sometimes the future — you know, the less important things. 
Your least favorite doubts are the ones about you and Sae. 
He’s not a bad boyfriend by any means. You’ve been dating each other for a while now, just shy of six months, and it’s been going well. Like any other college couple, you spend your free time together either marathoning a shitty reality TV show, studying, or eating at the local diners near campus once in a while for a ‘fancy’ burger and pizza date night (which Sae hates, by the way, but he goes because there’s nothing better around). You don’t blame him for these doubts because it’s just the way he is. You’ve always known this, along with everyone else around you. 
“Itoshi Sae? Yeah, he’s pretty cold and blunt.” They’d say in a hushed whisper. 
Another would agree, followed by an exaggerated shiver. “I heard even professors are scared of him.”
They’re annoying rumors and passing comments you've gotten somewhat used to. So you don’t blame the gossipers at your school either. Who you do blame are all the couples you would see, whether it’d be at school, at the grocery store, and sometimes even your own parents. Seeing things like holding hands, hugging, and even kissing each other goodbye sets something weird off in your chest.
And, well, you’ve known Sae for a while. You know that maybe he isn’t the type to be comfortable with these things, especially in public. And maybe you’re not going to guilt trip him into doing things that are out of his ordinary. But here’s the problem.
You do want to experience all of it.
“Sae?”
“Hm?”
“Do you like me?”
Your question throws him off just a tiny bit. He fumbles slightly with his flow of writing before catching himself and throws you a questioning look from across the table. 
It’s the midterm season so every floor at the university’s library is packed. All but the top floor, which is mainly reserved for graduate students, who are rarely even on-site. So you two manage to snag a booth in the corner by the bathrooms and water fountain. You’ve been studying for about two hours straight and the thought of going over the rules of the Krebs cycle again haunts you so you let your doubts take over. Hence, why you blurted out the question that’s been burning on your mind for the past week. 
“I do, why do you ask?” He doesn’t sound bothered by it, so you take that as a good sign.
But how do you go about asking him to show that? Maybe asking upfront would be too demanding right now. You decide to dance around the subject a little more.
There’s a moment in silence, your eyebrows creased in deep thought before you finally speak, voice clumsy and almost rough sounding. “When did you realize you liked me?”
He answers without missing a beat, eyes never leaving his notebook. “Dunno.”
Well, that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. 
“Huh?”
“What?” Sae breaks his focus and stares at you, as if you were the one who had said something weird. “You asked and I answered.”
“You have to explain with that sorta question, you know?”
In just the tiniest of motions, Sae frowns. He’s holding his breath for a few seconds in preparation and his eyes soften. “I’m not sure when I fell in love with you.”
Woah—wait love? This is also not what you were expecting out of this conversation either. Is it too late to go back to studying now?
Sae picks up the worried look on your face and manages a soft chuckle. “You know when the sun rises?”
You’re patting your face with your hands now, hoping to eliminate the burn on your cheeks. The sweat forming in your palms doesn’t help at all. And, frankly, you’re confused by his question. “Um, between six and seven?”
“Well, yeah,” he laughs again and you’re not sure if that was the answer he was looking for. “But it always rises, right?”
“Right,” you say slowly, still confused by what he’s trying to get at.
“I’m not sure when I fell in love but whenever the sun rises, it reminds me of you,” Sae explains with a leveled expression, ignoring the little surprised squeaks from your direction. “It’s been like that for a while now and brings me comfort whenever I do wake up early to see it rising.”
“Did you get that line from a K-drama or something?”
He rolls his eyes and fake scoffs. “Thought you wanted an explanation?”
“Well,” you bite back a giggle and continue, “you never struck me as a metaphor type of guy.”
“And you never struck me as the jealous type.” 
You grow hotter because wow guess you haven’t been that great at hiding away your feelings—or maybe your boyfriend is just that good at being perceptive as he is being a top honor student. “Was it that obvious?”
“When you’re looking at other couples and grumbling right after then yeah, it’s pretty obvious.” Sae’s tone doesn’t carry any ounce of tease and he gives you a fond look. It makes you feel slightly guilty and embarrassed. 
You shrink deeper into the booth, holding your textbook up to your face. “Sorry…”
The seat next to you dips and a familiar pair of hands gently snatches the book away from you, revealing Sae’s rare soft expression again. 
“Don’t be,” He reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving his laptop and notebook over to your side. “Plus, you shouldn’t worry that much, I’ll always be with you.”
A pause and then you decide to blurt out your other burning question because things are already out in the open at this point. “Would it be alright if we start doing more couple-ly things together?” 
“Mhm,” he’s about to dive back into studying but stops, humming in thought. “What should we do more?”
“Well, aside from me,” Sae deadpans and you straighten your posture. “Sorry, sorry, what I meant to say is I guess more PDA? Holding hands would be a good start.”
“Okay,” He says quietly and drops his pen, carefully interlacing his fingers with yours.  
Sae’s hands are warm, maybe even sweaty if you’re not mistaken. You look up and oh — his cheeks have the tiniest amount of red on them. Probably no different from the resurgence of warmth you’re currently feeling too.
“Better?” Sae asks and squeezes your hand.
“Yeah, better.” You squeeze back. 
872 notes · View notes