sanchooinc

[sanchooinc]

cute

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝗼𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐲?"

⤷ atsumu x reader | mutual pining | 0.9k words |

“Atsumu!” You call out his name, hitting your fist against the door. “Are you here?” 

It's a little late; the hallway is brightly lit, and you look up at the overhead lights, blinking and wondering if you shouldn’t have come here on such a whim. Thinking about it, you probably should have at least texted him you were coming — he might not even be here, but you were too much in a rush. 

Sighing, you raise your fist again, “Atsu-”

The door flies open and your hand cuts through air instead of the solid surface. Standing there in the doorway is Atsumu, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a loosely fitting black t-shirt to match. He’s holding onto the handle with one hand, the other resting against the side of the frame, his pink lips stretching into a sly smile. Your stomach flips a little bit. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You wring your hands together, “Um.” 

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue and chuckling when you don’t. He opens the door wider. “C’mon,” he says, motioning his head inside his room. You stare at his back as you follow him in, taking in his broad shoulders and admiring the way his muscles ripple inside his shirt before closing your eyes and shaking your head. He’s not yours to look at. 

Focusing instead on the room, you take note of how both sides are equally as dysfunctional. Not messy, just…crowded. “Where’s Osamu?” 

He settles onto his bed, unmade, legs spread, and pushes his laptop to the side. “With Rin.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

You rock on your heels as your gaze slides all around the room, purposely avoiding his. “So…” 

“So?” He tilts his head in that cute way he always does when he finally catches your eye, smiling teasingly. “I’m not complainin’ about ya bein’ here, but you look like you have something ya wanna say.” 

He’s right. A wave of fervor pours over you, and you nod your head in determination to do what you came here for, pushing the creeping feeling of dejection far from your mind. “I need some answers.”

“Uh, huh.” His mouth twists in confusion. “Ta what, exactly?” 

“To how long it’s going to be.” Your legs take you around the small space, pacing back and forth as you clench and unclench your fists.

“Right…” He trails off. “I’m a little lost here, sweetheart.” 

You think you might melt with the affectionate name, but you brush over it. He’s just like that. “How long it’s going to be until you ask out this person you like so much.” 

He suddenly tenses, back straightening and thick eyebrows furrowing. “Oh.” Brown eyes track your movement. “I’m not, uh, sure I can answer that?” 

You shake your head. You think back to the conversation you guys had a few days ago, where he told you all about this person that he’s interested in. You remember him using words like so pretty, so amazing. A flush on his cheeks as he told you about why he likes them so much. Refusing to tell you who the person was, so maybe you could try to understand why it wasn’t you. 

But it’s exactly that, it’s not you. But it hurts every single time you think about it. 

So that’s why you ended up here, late at night, a fire in your heart. If the person Atsumu likes isn’t you, you could at least push him to go out with them. You wouldn’t be left to hopelessly pine over him, and could instead get over it as you watched him with someone else, even if it would kill you. Save yourself before you get too invested, right? 

“Why not? The sooner the better. Aren’t you the one who told me that we have to go for the things we want?” 

Atsumu pushes himself off the bed, long legs striding to you and big hands holding your arms to stop you from moving around. He looks very confused now. “I was?” 

You ignore him. “Well then, it’s time to do something.” You make sure to look right into his eyes. “If you like them so much, there’s only one thing to do.” 

The grip on your arms tighten, and you shift your hands up to hold on to his elbows. His eyes widen, and you watch as different emotions pass through his face before an excited grin grows. He studies you, “How long have ya felt this way?”

“Since you told me.” You try to match his smile, despite the way your chest sinks. “Be brave, Atsumu. I know you are.”

“Yeah.” he nods, eagerly, bleached hair following the jerks of his head. “Yeah, okay.” 

Your gaze drops to the floor. “Great…” Great. 

At least one of you guys will get to be with who they want to. You just wish he wanted you.

You try to leave his hold, but his hands just squeeze your arms, your name falling from his lips in a soft breath. 

He gives you that smile, not the confident volleyball player one, but the one that you catch him with when he’s petting a puppy, or when he’s talking to his mother on the phone and he thinks no one is looking. The one that’s reserved for soft moments, and your heart constricts. But it’s not prepared for what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Will ya go out with me?”

[sanchooinc]

SO DAMN CUTE

(20 minutes earlier)

「8:57 p.m.」

“fuckin’ told you we’d get free dessert,” rin manages to say while putting another forkful of cake in his mouth. “and tears, and clapping.”

you scoff and shove his shoulder, “yeah, okay mr. too-good-to-be-true reddit post. sorry i never took you for a romantic.”

“really? even as we sit here and eat the best cake of your life?”

“we’re sitting on a curb in a parking lot, rin.”

“by choice, mind you.”

the amount of people who came over to congratulate the both of you had easily become overwhelming, especially when they started asking questions you couldn’t answer. “did you have your first date here?” “is it your anniversary?” “so when are you guys gonna get married?”

luckily, rin was able to ease his way out of the situation, explaining that the newly weds needed to go home to get some rest. he ended up driving a couple of blocks over to sit in an empty parking lot, the sunset near and the weather perfect. it was all a blur for you, really. if you didn’t think hard enough, you could say this really was a perfect way to end the day after an engagement.

“hey rin?” he hums in response and you continue, “was all of that stuff true? besides the romantic embellishments, i mean.”

“yeah,” he replies easily. “of course it was.”

when you look over at him, rin meets your gaze. his lips twitch as if he wanted smile before taking another bite of cake, “why are you looking at me like i said something unbelievable?”

“i don’t know! i just…you’ve never been very expressive about…anything like that.”

“mhm. that’s why i planned my script out. lies are easier with truths sprinkled in.”

“so me being in your best memories—”

“true.”

“having a hidden folder of us?”

“also true,” he replies. “and no you can’t see it,” he adds on with no hesitation. you pout but accept it, knowing that your own is still a secret for now. instead, you continue, “me being your best friend and you loving me?”

rin breathes out a laugh and rolls his eyes before responding, “despite what you might think, still very true.”

“uh huh,” you teasingly doubt. “then, wanting to be my fiance?”

you’re met with an unexpected beat of silence and you falter. rin’s smile disappears, but the soft look on his eyes doesn’t as he looks off at the parking lot. his voice is quiet when he finally answers, “true.”

“...what?”

at that, he barks out a laugh as he pushes his dessert aside to lean back on his hands, “i seriously just dragged you into an expensive, fancy ass restaurant under the guise of wanting a slice of free cake when we could have bought our favourite meals for less and you’re still shocked?”

he watches the expression on your face change as you flounder to find something to say. “you don’t have to feel pressured to like me back or anything. seriously, i just—” he takes a breath and smiles up at the clouds, a little in self-pity and not ready to look at you yet, “i needed to say it at some point so i thought i might as well go all in, y’know?”

a silence comes over the both of you. you think it should be awkward—you should want to curl into a ball and disappear. but you don’t. somehow, even now, rintarou manages to make you feel comfortable with everything going on, and the silence is just…understandable, almost comforting. rin is picking at the grass patch next to him when you look over, as if nothing had changed by his confession. but it didn’t sit right with you, and your gut twists at the thought of nothing changing in the way that mattered.

“well,” you say and wait for rin to look at you. he pauses and drops the grass in his fingers before tilting his head at you. “i think getting engaged skips a few steps but, um,” you clear your throat. rin’s heart is in his own throat as he watches you struggle a little to get up from your spot and onto one knee. “what are you—”

“i have my own folder of photos of us,” you blurt out. he blinks and your face is heating up but it’s too late to stop now. “i, uh, made it the first time we had to work on a project together, and we just ended up getting food and watching a new show. the first photo is you asleep with the weighted blanket.”

“and, i just, you—god i wish i had my own script,” you groan. rin snorts a little but stays quiet, knowing to let you take your time—there’d be time to tease you later anyway.

you bite your lip and try to figure out your words before continuing softly, “you mean a lot to me, rin. i seriously don’t know where i’d be if i didn’t know you and have you next to me for all these years. and i love you."

“so to my best friend,” you say, despite the heat you feel on your face and your heart pounding harder than ever before. “and the only person i’d let fake propose to me at a fancy ass restaurant just for a slice of cake”—you slide the ring off your own finger and hold it towards him—”will you be my boyfriend?”

the both of you stare and wonder if the other notices how the sunset has started—hues of pink, purple, and orange tinting the sky above you. and it’s only 20 minutes after you've become fiancés when rin shoots up with a grin, grabbing you closer to hold your face. you yelp as his hands cup your cheeks and his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. it’s 20 minutes after his own fake proposal that finally, finally, rintarou gets to kiss you for the first time. and it’s been 21 minutes, you guess, when he pulls back with a smile and answers, “i will.”

note from nia: hello. miau. suna lovers where r u. i don't think i need a part 3 for this so that's awesome. welcome to ur suna rintarou boyfriend/fiance arc!

join the taglist! :)

🏷️ couldn't tag | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @missyasma @thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm

interaction & rbs appreciated \o/

[sanchooinc]

x : AUGUST 12TH :*+ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does your apartment have another way out?”

“Unfortunately not.”

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

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

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

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

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

You doubt he wants you back.

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

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

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

“You remember my team?”

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

“And you listened?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I’ll be here.”

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

How will you recover from this one?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And how you might relive it again tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it what you want?"

“A thousand times yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Call me. My number hasn’t changed.”

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

“Then I look forward to it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sanchooinc]

HAHAH NAGI BEST WINGMAN

[ mikage reo ]

you sat across from the famous football player, staring at him blankly as he slurped the last few drop of his iced coffee obnoxiously, staring back at you almost as if he was trying to annoy you. after finally being done and letting out a loud annoying sigh, he blinked. “hi.”

you shut your eyes for a brief second, taking in a deep breath while trying not to come up with at least fifty ways to murder him as you attempted to fully register the situation. “nagi, it’s three in the morning.”

“mhm.”

“i haven’t spoken to you in years. why are you here?”

“i had a fight with reo.” he said bluntly, moving the straw around his cup. the ice moved inside loudly, only testing your patience further. he seemed as if he was done talking, but the sharp look you gave him made him pout and before he continued, finally stopping the noise. “we live together, i couldn’t stay with him.”

“and you decided that instead of staying with any of your friends, isagi, chigiri, barou, bachira— you decided to pack, somehow track me down and come over without notice?”

“i couldn’t stay at any of their homes,” he rolled his eyes as if you were the idiot. “let me explain this, [y/n]. when a kid has divorced parents and he fights with one of them, he goes to stay with the other.”

you needed a cigarette and you didn’t even fucking smoke.

“…did you just say that mikage and i are your divorced parents?” you asked, bewildered. he nodded casually, leaning his palm on one hand as he stared at you. you leaned back, massaging your temples in pure frustration. “are all football players this insane?”

“probably.” he shrugged. “i also forgot my phone and wallet, so you will have to pay for me until i decide to go back. oh, speaking off, can we order takeout? i’m really hungry.”

“nagi.”

“…yes?”

“get the fuck to bed.”

his eyes seemed to fill up with amusement despite the dramatic sigh he let out as he got up, staring at you expectantly. you gestured to the room at the end of the hallway and he nodded, poking his tongue out before he walked away.

you passed out at the kitchen table that day, wondering what the fuck to do with the man child in your guest room, and woke up the next morning by someone poking your cheek. “[y/n]. [y/n]. [y/n]. [y/n]. [y/—“

“say my name one more time and i am disowning you,” you muttered blankly, voice thick with sleep as you buried your face deeper into your arms. you heard him snort, but you ignored it, sighing. “what?”

“i ordered takeout because i can’t make breakfast and i didn’t want you to kill me if i woke you up to cook. where’s your wallet?”

you pushed yourself up with a light groan, looking around until your eyes fell on the backpack you usually took to your college. you gestured there vaguely and he immediately dragged himself towards it, pulling it open harshly before he grabbed your wallet, frowning. “this is an ugly wallet.”

“die.”

“you’re a very bad parent.” he hummed. you narrowed your eyes at him as he pulled the door open and paid, accepting two pizza boxes before he mumbled a ‘thank you’ and shut the door quietly, looking towards you after. “wanna join for breakfast?”

you sighed, pushing your aching body up. “why not?”

after you two silently ate while he intensely watched a full two-hour youtube video about all possible theories behind his favorite game, you finally turned to him. “i have three questions.”

he blinked. “only three? you’re a changed person. what are they?”

you rolled his eyes. “one, when are you planning to return?”

“you could at least pretend you’re happy to see your ex-boyfriend’s best friend after years.” he muttered, sulking, before sighing. “friday night, we have a match saturday morning.”

you nodded slowly, then paused. “how are you planning to piss mikage off if he doesn’t even know where you are?”

he blinked. “oh, i didn’t think about that. give me your phone, i’ll send him a photo of us together.”

“i don’t have his number.” you informed blankly. he raised his eyebrows, and you raised one in response. “what?”

“he still have your number saved in his favorites with, like, a million heart emojis. you’re cruel.” he muttered monotonously, snatching your phone either way. you watched closely as he opened instagram and logged into his private account before he leaned into you, poking his tongue out as he snapped a picture. you poked your tongue out as well just to humor him, both your faces blank, and you snorted when you saw his caption.

like parent like son.

“last question.” you hummed. he groaned loudly, and you raised an eyebrow. “just one and i’ll let you stay over without complaining for the next few days.”

“shoot.”

“what was the fight about?”

he paused for a second, two, three, then, “i don’t want to talk about it.”

you stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed, glancing at your watch. “okay. i have to get ready for college, so make yourself at home, i guess.”

he seemed surprised that you let go of it, but you didn’t overthink it, getting up and going to your room. god, you needed a hot, long shower. after getting everything ready and so, you walked back out into the living room, where nagi was watching another game analysis video on your TV. yet, he seemed to be sulking a little more, and you sighed at your own words in advance.

“hey, nagi, wanna sneak into my college and attend classes with me?”

“sounds like a hassle.” he deadpanned, glancing up. you hummed, turning around, before a thud echoed as he rolled off the couch, followed by a groan. “hold on, i’m in.”

you snorted.

before you realized, it was friday morning, and as much as you hated to admit, you were going to miss nagi. you two had gotten close when you were dating reo and tended to pull a lot of all nighters together playing nagi’s favorite games, which got you really close. however, after the breakup, reo had really pulled back and cut off all contact, which you guessed had included nagi as well when the taller player stopped talking to you.

“morning,” nagi yawned tiredly as he walked into the kitchen, where you sat on your phone, greeting him with a hum. “oh, did you pack your bags already?”

you blinked, pausing, before you looked up. “what?”

he blinked back. “did i forgot to tell you? you’re coming with me.”

“what?” you hissed, eyes wide. “what do you— i’m not going with you.”

“i already have your ticket, don’t let me get a refund!” he whined, slumping across of you. “i got it when i booked mine.”

“and you are just telling me now?”

“i forgot.” he deadpanned. “now go pack.”

“i have college.”

“you told me you have a week-long break. go pack.”

“i’m not staying with you.”

“i’ll book a suite for you in the most expensive hotel, just please go pack!”

“…i fucking hate you.” you muttered, pushing yourself up before placing a plate in front of him. he took a huge bite as you walked away, and you could hear him hum at the taste before talking.

“love you too!” he yelled back.

that night, after you two got on the plane, he decided to inform you that he had also got you a vip ticket for the game the next day, and he was so lucky you couldn’t murder him with that much witnesses around.

you had the same feeling as you watched the players walk into the field on saturday night, sipping on your drink while waiting trying to calm your nerves. it had been years since you saw reo, and you were definitely not ready to see him again. you would be lying if you said you didn’t put effort into your appearance for the night, but who wouldn’t?

before you could completely prepare yourself, your eyes fell on an annoyingly familiar mop of purple hair, angrily whispering something to nagi. nagi gave him one of his famous blank looks before he turned around and met your eyes, and you immediately glared at him.

‘do not!’ you mouthed clearly, well aware that he could see it, and his lips only twitched up before he nonchalantly pointed in your direction, and you glared at him.

that fucking traitor.

reo turned around in an alarming speed, eyes wide as he did so, searching the crowd almost desperately before his eyes fell on you. you had managed to compose yourself enough to go back to looking bored, offering him a lazy wave when your eyes met, and he only turned back quickly towards nagi, waving around vaguely as he said something that caused his team members to all look at him, eyes wide.

chigiri asked something and nagi pointed back at you, and you swore you could cut his damn finger off if you could as almost the entire team turned to you in sync, eyes wide, and you offered a peace sign this time, face blank as you poked your tongue out.

the only one who saw the humor in this was nagi, who snorted and immediately got smacked by reo, who was sharply avoiding looking in your direction. they all offered bewildered waves and you turned back to sipping on your drink, waiting for the stupid match to end so you can get back to your hotel.

they won, fucking of course, and you immediately slipped out, shooting nagi a text once you made it back to the hotel congratulating him. you got a simple ‘:x’ back and snorted, decided to take a relaxing bath before going to grab a coffee for yourself.

and so, hours later, you were finally ready, dressed nicely and humming quietly as you grabbed your phone and wallet, pausing once a familiar voice echoed in the hallway. you walked towards the door, quietly pressing your ear against it, and heard someone suck in a sharp breath. “you can do it, you can do it. this will go okay, you can totally fucking do this, you can—“

you shut your eyes and breathed in deeply as an attempt to calm yourself down before opening the door, eyes immediately meeting widening purple ones as reo stilled. it was silent for a few seconds until reo took a step back, forcing on a practiced smile that you easily knew was fake.

“hi,” he spoke, voice smoother than you had remembered, and held a bouquet of white roses. you arched an eyebrow, face still blank as you accepted it, and he laughed awkwardly, shifting on his feet. “apology on nagi’s behalf.”

“it’s okay.” you responded calmly, carefully setting them aside. “couldn’t leave my child, after all.”

he cracked an awkward smile, but remained silent until you glanced back at him, and he gestured to your outfit. “going, uh, somewhere?”

“coffee.” you replied bluntly, and then internally grimaced, sighing before you spoke again, already regretting your words. “…would you like to tag along?”

“yes.” he agreed eagerly, then paused, skin tinting just the slightest. “i mean, uh, if you would like me to. i don’t mean i don’t want to, i do, but only if you—“

you would be a huge liar if you deny how you enjoyed being one of the very few people who can get reo to break his collected, charming rich boy filter. “reo?”

he immediately shut up, blinking, and you couldn’t help but think about how he resembled a lost puppy. “yeah?”

“let’s go.”

(you, later that night, shot nagi a reluctant ‘thank you’ text, one he responded with a ‘:p’ in reply for before casually informing you that there was no argument, just a small disagreement about reo being too much of a cowards to reach out and that he was just bored. you unsent your ‘thank you’, and he sent a ‘bad parenting :c’ back.)

[sanchooinc]

🥺❤️

[ sakusa kiyoomi ]

“i will murder you in cold blood if you even think about it.”

your boyfriend’s head snapped up, eyes wide in a mixture of shock and absolute confusion on what prompted you to blurt the threat out of nowhere as he followed you up behind the bus, until he saw the culprit.

one empty seat.

he immediately scowled, the action clear for you despite his mask. at that point in your relationship, you were sure you would know his reaction even if he had a brown bag over his face. with slightly furrowed eyebrows, he glared at you. “why would i have it?”

“i dragged you and miya out of practice at one in the morning. you have been there since nine, so you’re clearly exhausted while i am perfectly fine. it’s a thirty minute ride. so, sit.”

he opened his mouth to protest, scowl deepening, but you narrowed your eyes dangerously.

“sakusa,” you called his last name quietly, warningly. “sit down.”

you ignored the soft giggles of other passengers as your boyfriend finally slumped down, his hand immediately reaching out to hold yours while you used the other to hold the pole placed to keep you from stumbling around. even with his head down, you knew he was pouting. “you’re cruel. i am going to hate every second of this.”

you briefly moved your stabilizing hand to run your hand through his hair, forcing him to rest his head back. he shut his eyes softly, and you could see the old lady beside him beaming at you two as you pulled your hand away, feeling him squeeze the one he held tightly.

and before the bus could even moved, his eyes were shut, breath steady and body limp.

the ride home was almost an hour due to heavy traffic and unexpected construction and by the time it was your stop, you were equally exhausted. you quietly shoved sakusa awake, who blinked a few times sleepily before he realized where he was and pushed himself up with a yawn, his hand not once leaving yours as the two of you walked out, mumbling a joined ‘thank you’ for the driver.

your shared apartment was only a few minutes away, but each minute felt increasingly too long and you almost collapsed the second you finally stepped inside. you briefly mumbled a quiet ‘welcome home’ as you let go of sakusa, immediately walking towards the bathroom.

after a thorough shower, you curled up in bed, waiting for sakusa to be done with his own as you resisted the urge to pass out, blinking sleepily, but it was barely a matter of minutes before you fully drowned in your dreams.

you, however, awoke again when the bed shifted, your boyfriend’s warm body gently wrapping around yours. you could tell he was trying his hardest not to wake you up, so you resumed your state, eyes remaining shut as you breathed out a small hum of satisfaction.

it was silent for a few seconds, but before you could fully lose consciousness again, you heard him talk softly, voice merely a whisper.

“you’re the greatest thing that ever happened to me,” he started softly, voice thick with exhaustion. “i have no idea what i ever did to deserve you and i am not sure i could ever be enough for you, but i am so glad you’re mine. you deserve the world and i will make sure you know it, my love.”

you shifted again, attempting to control the urge to cup his cheeks and pull him into the best kiss of his life.

he sighed, head on your shoulder. “god, i love you so much, baby.”

[sanchooinc]

cuteee

─── 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 7.1k | content: fluff, making out, college!au, mentions of insecurity, only very brief angst !!, alcohol, slight jealousy

notes: this was supposed to be lengthier and in smau format but i suck at that so here it is in fic format :’) i know i know, i write sae way too much </3

summary: you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.

HIGH SCHOOL: 2ND YEAR

itoshi sae knows you like him.

you’re really obvious it’s pathetic, really. once during recess, he’d wanted to go back to the classroom to get some shut eye because soccer was way too draining lately, and guess who he saw slipping a little love note into his locker?

of course you. you and your little pink heart-shaped post-it that read i think you’re cute and i really really like you. because it was valentines and you were one of the many to send him little scribbles of confessions.

even now, when you sit just a couple of rows in front of him, he catches you looking behind at him, and sae purposely doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you know he knows you’re staring. he’s not really sure why. maybe he feels bad if he exposes you or something.

throughout the rest of your sophomore year in high school, he continues to observe as you so subtly (not really) try to be friends with him. you always try to get picked to be in the same group as him for projects (which never works out), you try to sit next to him in lecture halls (but his friends cockblock you always), and during phys ed classes you try so hard with soccer but you’re really quite bad at it.

maybe it’s sae not being able to continue observing your failures that he throws you a bone.

“you need to bend your knees a little more.”

frozen stiff from the unexpected company, you awkwardly try to bend your knees further, all while staring at the ground. if sae was nice, he’d laugh and joke around with you, asking why you seemed so scared of him. but he’s not, so he only sighs and stands beside you while you try.

after a few more seconds, sae understands you don’t really understand so he moves to push down on your thigh, and by then you really freeze up, falling flat on your ass in front of him.

sae wants to laugh now, really, because it’s amusing how nervous you are. for no good reason too.

the next time sae talks to you, it’s during lunch time when he queues up behind you. on purpose. he doesn’t even usually eat from this stall, but seeing you there makes him want to mess with you a little. he purposely stands a little too close, makes himself prone to an accidental bump.

which does happen. because you’re just like that.

“oh, sor—” you stop midway as if realising it’s sae immediately dissolves you of any obliged apologies. “sorry,” you force out before whipping your attention back in front. the both of you don’t talk in that moment and sae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

but sae continues to help you during phys ed classes, and you still try to get assigned to be his group mate. nothing groundbreaking happens during sophomore year of high school because nothing is born out of it.

nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sae’s inexplicable emotions for you.

HIGH SCHOOL: SENIOR YEAR

sae thinks maybe you went to a shrine over the holidays. how else would he explain you finally getting partnered with him on a project? and to top it off, it’s a two-person team for the entire year.

you get him all to yourself.

the moment the teacher calls your name after his, it’s like sae can practically see your tail wagging. you manage to compose yourself when you catch him staring at you though.

it’s a little cute, if he’s being honest.

“so, what do you think our project should be about?” your voice wavers a little when you speak to him. is he that intimidating?

sae wonders what if he tries to be a dick during this project. would you be obedient or would you actually bite back?

he tries to find out.

sae shrugs and acts disinterested, staring out the window of the second floor of the library where you’d both agreed to meet to work on it together. “don’t know, don’t care, think you could handle it for us? i’ve got too many soccer trainings, too tired.”

for a split second, you’re taken aback—he sees you sitting upright a little more, blinking twice at him because surely that’s not what you imagined your crush to behave like. not when he has straight As and is almost the top of your cohort.

and for a while, sae thinks you might actually be the former; obediently listening to him, making sure he’s happy. but then you furrow your brows and clench your fists and go “itoshi sae, who do you think you are” and oh, oh, you’re not the former, you’re the latter and you’d actually kill him if he was a dick. fuck.

somehow his hands instinctively come up in surrender and his mouth opens, “i was just kidding.”

it’s almost comical how your expression softens up immediately and you laugh, and sae keeps staring at you because you actually have a really nice smile. he never really noticed it before. and when the two of you actually get started on the project, sae finds himself observing you more than actually contributing.

yeah, you’re really quite pretty.

“any plans for the summer?”

it’s now almost july and summer break is around the corner, and to be honest sae’s kind of bummed about it. it’s beyond him why not seeing you would make him disappointed, but he’s not going to try and pursue the reason. he has his training camps to worry about.

“soccer. you?”

“mmm, a short trip with my parents.”

usually sae would leave it at that, but he asks about you, and he sees that tail wagging again. “where?”

“just gonna go to hokkaido,” you tell him. and you look like you’re anticipating him to ask more, but sae’s stuck. he doesn’t really know what to ask. he’s not exactly curious as to what you’d be doing there.

so you take matters into your own hand when you swiftly grab his phone from the table, key in your number and call yourself from his phone before putting it right back. sae watches you the whole time, wondering when exactly you’d gotten this bold.

“there, now you can’t escape me even over summer break.”

and he doesn’t. because you text him about your trip when you’re there, you send him pictures of the scenery and of the food you’re eating and you’re really inconsiderate because you send him that shit when he’s stuck in soccer bootcamp with twenty-four sweaty guys who’s none the better than him.

sae can end it by all means, just by not responding to you, but for the first time, talking to someone isn’t really a pain, and he thinks you’re kind of funny and the stickers you send are kind of cute so he’ll let this continue. even if by continue he means sending mediocre, lacklustre responses that just barely manages to keep the conversation going.

(in sae’s mind at eighteen, sending replies like okay and i see are considered acceptable and subjectively considered effort.)

when summer break finally ends and it’s early september, sae finally sees you again while he walks to school. he walks a little faster just to catch up to you before he adjusts his pace, acts like it’s coincidence that he’s right beside you.

and somehow he’s made it a routine; to memorise what bus you get off of and catch you on the way to school. even if he sees you in classes and even after classes in the library.

you’re acting a little less like he’s on a podium and more like normal friends and he kind of likes that. he likes being able to see you unfiltered when you gossip, likes seeing you laugh at stupid lame jokes, likes the way you hang close to him whenever you’re beside him.

okay maybe like is a little stretching it, he doesn’t mind being able to tolerate it. or maybe he’s just in denial, whatever.

winter comes and it’s somehow the time when more girls try to talk to him, mainly because somehow the school decides to hold a winter event this year; it’s going to be held near the edge of the city, where the biggest skating rink is.

by his guess, most girls are looking for a guy to have a skating date with.

in the library during your usual meetup for the school project, sae gets more than a couple visitors trying to get him for that same reason. you eye everyone that approaches the table, and sae can’t help but notice how he actually likes when you’re pouty. maybe it’s his twisted thinking that jealousy means you’re still into him.

“itoshi-kun, i was thinking whether you wanted to go to the winter event together?” another girl from your class, mizuno, asks him, and sae is tired of it, frankly. but he doesn’t show it. he only looks at you, and you look back at him because he doesn’t usually stare for this long.

then, he looks at mizuno and rejects her.

“sorry, can’t, i’m going with y/n.”

(you get home that day being completely flustered and completely happy.)

on the day of the event, sae keeps his word. he goes with you, sticks beside you the entire time. his friends snap pictures of the two of you and you always look so embarrassed. maybe you’re just not used to all of this attention. but that’s fine, it’s cute.

one thing he learns about you is that you can be real clumsy sometimes. like now, when you get so excited over your watermelon slushie that you somehow spill it all over your jacket and clothes.

sae ends up giving you his puffy winter jacket while he braves the cold with whatever he has left. that’s fine, he’s strong. besides, getting to watch you wear his jacket the entire time feels like a bonus somehow.

he thinks by now you should confess already, but you don’t. you’re happy to stay in this bubble with him right now, whichever phase the two of you are at. so is he. it feels kind of nice.

feels especially nice when you hang onto him for dear life in the skating rink even though neither of you are moving. sae’s aware that people are staring holes into both of you but it’s strange how much he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. that’s why he holds his hands out, lets you take them, makes himself pull you along. he finds himself wishing neither of you were wearing gloves so he could feel how soft your hands are.

by the end of the day, everyone takes it that the both of you are together, even though the both of you are too avoidant to talk about it.

“hey, sae? thanks for today,” you say later that night when everything is done and you’d had the giddiest experience with sae. he’s walking you home and he doesn’t even know why; it’s a mystery to him why he keeps himself close whenever he can.

“it’s fine, i was the one who told people i was going with you, so.”

when he gets you to your front porch, you don’t go in immediately, standing right there with your back facing him, and sae wonders what’s going through your head. if only he could see the expression on your face right now, maybe he’d know.

you let him; because you turn around, giving him a big smile before you take a step forward and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on your heel and running into your house.

neither of you say bye, both of you are just a little too stunned to speak. sae stands out there in the cold for a little while longer, his face and ears red—he’s not even sure whether it’s from the weather or from you—but even when he starts to leave, you’re still slumped at your front door, covering your face in embarrassment, knees too weak to stand up.

there’s only one more quarter left until you graduate and sae and you both act like nothing happened that day. you still gossip unfiltered and he still listens but acts like he doesn’t.

except now instead of sitting across from you, he opts to sit directly beside you. sometimes sits a little too close just so your arms will brush against each other. sae also lets you keep his puffy jacket because you said you liked it.

you wear it throughout winter.

when graduation comes around and it’s time for sae to choose his university, he can’t help but take a peek at your screen. a smile comes to his face when he sees your first choice is the same as his. you’re smart too, he doesn’t doubt you’ll get in.

“itoshi sae, you can smile?”

sae immediately turns it into a frown. “guess not.”

you take your words back. “hey, i’m just kidding! it’s just rare… that’s all.”

so you notice him a lot then?

sure, you might not have seen him smile a lot. but that’s fine. from what sae knows, you have the entirety of your university years to possibly catch it.

UNIVERSITY: FRESHMAN YEAR

of course you enter the same university as itoshi sae. it’s not on purpose, but you’re glad you both made it here anyway.

at least knowing one friendly face is better than none.

to be honest, you’re not really sure where you and sae stand. he’s never said anything about that kiss, but he also doesn’t stay away from you. can you take that as a positive thing?

if anything, he’s even closer.

somehow, his dorms and yours are practically next door. when you open your bathroom window, you can look right into his. it happened once, by accident, and you’d caught him, shirtless with just a white towel hanging around his neck, hair damp as he brushes his teeth, the droplets of water on his abs looking very inviting.

but then he caught you staring and you’ve shut your bathroom window ever since. thankfully, he never mentions it.

being in university and staying in campus meant that you were both hanging out much more informally. and you’d think that two people at the age of nineteen who’d known each other for three years would be less awkward than this but it’s you and sae and somehow there’s always an element of awkwardness.

it’s halfway into your freshman year and you’d just watched the first match that sae’s playing for the university team. you’re a little starstruck, honestly. to think that the guy you’ve always had a crush on is this good at soccer.

he’s amazing. you’re feeling like a potato sack.

“hey, you know him right?” hime gushes.

your friends are with you, so it’s natural they ask.

mira on your left sighs, “guess we have no shot with him since he’s with y/n all the time,” she says, nudging you in the elbow.

you’re starting to regret bringing them here with all the teasing. you’re also regretting coming here yourself because you see several girls running to him asking for a picture together. some of which you recognise, some of which are the popular girls.

sae doesn’t stop them from snapping what they can, but he also doesn’t stop for them at all. instead, he saunters over to you, hime and mira wordlessly disappearing to the side.

“gimme that,” sae says, gesturing to the phone in your hand. you obey, of course, and he smirks, then he snaps a selfie with you before tossing your phone back and walking off.

the pairs of eyes on you make you half-embarrassed yet half-proud. even with this many fangirls, sae chooses to come to you.

that night sae asks you to send him the picture.

yeah, maybe you can take that as a positive thing.

freshman year after that is generally uneventful. you and sae are both trying to find your footing, with him preoccupied mostly with soccer trainings while you’re drowning in assignments and projects that have nothing to do with him.

but you still see him in the mornings sometimes, when you walk past your common room and he’s in his, and you wave at him when he’s alone so you’re not so shy, and he nods in acknowledgement before he just walks away.

one night while you’re burning the midnight oil trying to cram some accounting knowledge into your brain, you get a text from sae.

wanna get supper?

both of you end up at one of the supper spots outside of school, a little cosy shop that sells boba and ramen even after midnight.

“why’d you wanna get supper?”

sae shrugs, taking a sip of his plain water. “just bored, couldn’t sleep.”

“isn’t this soccer season? you can’t even eat anything in here, it’s definitely not passable for your diet.”

he sighs, leaning back against his chair. “so? quit whining and start eating your shit already.”

if it was some other guy you’d be rolling your eyes and storming off. but it’s sae and you know him and he thinks he’s talking normally like this. besides, when you catch his eyes flicker up to lock with yours you get a little dizzy inside.

“what’re you up so late for anyway?”

sae’s fingers are drumming lightly against the surface of the metal table, teal eyes diligently observing as you bring the strands of noodle to your lips. “told you, i couldn’t sleep.”

you find that strange; he’s always been able to sleep, no problem. and he’s strict about his eight hour sleep schedule. what could be getting to the great itoshi sae?

(sae’s lying through his teeth; having his bedroom right across from yours means he can see when your lights aren’t out. sue him for being a little concerned.)

“so, heard you and the team are going on a soccer trip somewhere in europe,” you bring up. you’d heard it from your friends, strangely, instead of sae himself.

he nods. “yeah, just a select few,” he tells you, “only if we win the tournament though, then the team’ll officially invite us over.”

so-called team you heard about is real madrid, and you’d be crazy to think that sae couldn’t help your university team win on his own.

“guess i won’t be seeing you around when you go,” you mumble idly, not completely aware of what you’re basically saying.

sae is adept at reading in between the lines, but he doesn’t probe you on it. he’s not sure he wants to. he doesn’t know what this is. do you still like him? does he like you too? all these feelings are new; sae doesn’t know what to do with it.

so he keeps it to himself. for now.

he doesn’t really do a good job at following through with it though, because on the day of the tournament finals, he looks at you and winks right as he orchestrates that winning goal for his team, and you’re left wondering if you’re imagining things.

UNIVERSITY: SOPHOMORE YEAR

the final part of your freshman year went and gone, and it didn’t go exactly how you imagined it to be. you didn’t expect to hear from sae at all when he went on his trip after that tournament.

but you did.

he replied you whenever he had the time. told you anything you asked for. even called you when you had a mini meltdown because of finals.

to be frank, you don’t know what the both of you are anymore. you’re cursing yourself for being too scared to ask.

“hey y/n, have you seen hime anywhere?”

it’s oliver asking, captain of the university’s soccer team and also hime’s current situationship. he’d started hitting her up since that first time sae played and brought attention to you and the people around you.

“yeah, she’s by the pool with mira.”

oliver leaves as soon as you tell him, and you stand awkwardly at the corner of the living room, by the full panel of glass windows, wondering if you should just go home. you’d only came because hime and mira both said you needed to experience a party at least once this year but now you’re surrounded by people making out and drunkards slipping into the pool that it makes you regret giving this a shot at all.

especially since sae’s not going to be back till tomorrow, garnering as much interest as he did during his time in spain. you really have no reason to be here.

“hey there, pretty.”

startled, you find a familiar face up close in your personal space, his finger twirling your hair. you’d recognise that head of blonde and pink anywhere.

“oh, you’re ryusei shido right? you’re on the soccer team with sae,” you think out loud, and he nods, and you can see his blonde lashes so closely it’s making you flustered.

“mhm, fwhat’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a corner? seems like a shame,” he comments, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to answer. the next thing you know, shido drags you into a drinking game with hime and mira (which is why your first instinct wasn’t to run off, if you could trust anyone it’s your best friends). although, shido is getting annoyingly close and you can’t decide if you’re nervous or annoyed.

and the heavens surely love you when they let shido draw the card that corresponds to a dare, and they love testing your boundaries when some guy called otoya dares him to kiss you.

but no, you know that the heavens really do love you when someone yanks shido’s hair back and pulls him away from your face, taking his spot in between the both of you in the bid for proximity that you don’t mind because it’s itoshi sae.

“sae, what’re you doing here? i thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,” you ask, a little shell-shocked but you still notice he’s discerning frown and how there’s barely any space between the two of you.

he looks at you, tilting his head, “what? my girl’s not happy to see me here?”

you don’t respond. half because you think you’re dreaming and fuck—really, did he just call you his girl?

“eh? i don’t recall you having a girlfriend?” shido leers, a hand on the spot of his head where sae had pulled on earlier.

“yeah, besides, shido still has to do the dare.” otoya sounds bored more than anything, but the guy beside him, karasu, if you remember correctly, is smirking.

sae sighs, and you feel like you must’ve crossed the boundary to another dimension when you feel sae’s lips on yours, and you think you’re in limbo when you feel his hand on your neck, pulling you close. his tongue pries your lips apart and people are whistling while shido’s behind him saying get a fucking room or i’ll beat off to this.

when the object of your affection finally pulls away, you’re met with the same pair of unbothered teal eyes, the pair that immediately turns to face otoya. “there, did it for him. now move on.”

you’re beginning to thank alcohol for its existence when almost everyone obeys wordlessly, moving on to some other guy’s turn. you really can’t remember who sits on shido’s right when all you can think of is that itoshi sae, your longtime high school crush, actually kissed you.

that’s enough to warrant the question, right? the question of what sae takes you for?

the inner debate sparks long into the night, even when sae walks you back to your apartment, the both of you side by side in silence.

“sae, what was that?”

he plays coy. “what was what?”

you’re only a little tipsy, so you can still tolerate his avoidance. “you confuse me a lot, you know that?”

sae doesn’t take the bait. “oh, i see.”

“you were jealous.” he was. he really was. you can tell; he was sour to shido the entire night. he stuck close to you too, sometimes your fingers brushed against each other’s.

“so what if i was?”

this one is new. sae’s actually admitting it. and usually you’d chicken out but you can see your apartment coming into view and you don’t want to let this go.

“what am i to you, sae?” you manage to choke it out a few feet away from the door, and sae stops in his tracks, hands in his pocket and teal eyes looking heavenward.

you’re beginning to regret your decision to ask; you’re not sure if his indecision is a good or bad thing. nothing seems to be simple when it comes to itoshi sae.

but he does nothing to appease your confusion when he steps in front of you, his body pressed flush against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, and you think this one is special because it’s not done in the name of a dare or in front of anyone else. this kiss is for you and you alone and sae is doing this on purpose.

when he pulls back, you see him furrow his brows and you can tell that maybe he’s just as confused as you are.

“when i managed to get an earlier slot for my flight, all i could think about was how excited i was to see you.”

is this… a confession? you’re even more confused now that you don’t even know what to say.

to be honest, so is sae, which is why he swallows the lump in his throat and relegates to his apartment, “goodnight.”

things after that change just a little.

you’d decided to go with the flow, just because you really don’t want to sabotage whatever friendship you and sae had left, although most of the time, sae is the one toeing the line. even though he doesn’t outright tell you anything regarding his feelings.

but you think you figured him out.

sae asks you out whenever you’re both free, and not for shit like studying or errands, but for movies and dinner and he drives you around in his car and looks at you like you’re the only girl he sees. his eyes don’t wander when he’s with you, and he lets you wear even more of his jackets. it’s also evolved to his jerseys and his beloved windbreakers. you have one of each in your own closet and he never seems to ask for them back anymore. he also lets you wear his rings, puts them on your fingers randomly.

both of you still go for parties, especially when it’s one of the soccer guys who are throwing it, because they practically force sae to go and they know you’re the key to convincing him.

most of the time the two of you just laze on the couch, drinking and talking about nothing at all, and he idly plays with your fingers when he’s tipsy, something you never tell him because you like it, because you don’t want him to feel self-conscious and stop. he also smells your hair after he sends you home and hugs you before he retreats to his place, and you wonder if he’s fully sober when he does that.

you resign to getting your answer some other time, because you don’t want anything to ruin this, if this is just an illusion. yeah, you’d talking feelings some other time.

UNIVERSITY: JUNIOR YEAR

you really had no right to be, but you are. try as you might, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the way you do. especially not when she’s sitting so so close to him, when her hand brushes his fingers.

she’s just his project partner, nothing more, but something irks you about the way she can get so close to him so quickly when it took you much longer. but then you hear from shido that kaori is rin and sae’s childhood friend, so maybe that’s why they’re so damn close.

apparently, she’d gotten back to japan after ten years abroad. with great timing too, right when you thought you and sae could amount to something.

“you know, i could help you make him jealous if you wanna,” shido whispers in your ear one time when he catches you staring at them. “we’ll make him feel how you feel, m’kay?”

and while that’s tempting, you shake your head. it’s unreasonable for you to take it out on him that way, not when he hasn’t actually done anything that proves he’s just leading you on.

lately sae’s been so busy around kaori that you’re just thinking too much. you’re wondering if he’s slowly replacing you. he still talks to you over text, but you barely hang out like you did before. you still spot him through the windows, but he’s always too tired to notice you. even his texts are getting slower.

“hey, you okay?”

trust it to hime to notice your personal dilemma. you’re not really surprised though, because she’s been watching you moping for the last few weeks. she now has oliver wrapped fully around her finger, with him sticking around her all the time, which is a surprise considering his reputation.

but hime will take your side, you know this, and maybe that’s why you play it off. you don’t want her to hate sae because of a momentary feeling, so you tell her you’re just sick and you’ll go back home.

the moment you get back to your apartment, you see sae waiting out on the front, car ready while he leans against the hood, waiting.

and you might’ve asked if he was waiting for kaori, but then he looks up and sees you and smirks and that’s all you need to know that he’s not. he was waiting for you, and now he’s opening the passenger side door and telling you to “get in, stupid.”

that’s how sae is with you, impromptu and surprisingly sweet. he drives you to the pier, a cute spot right next to an amusement park where he’d gotten you some candy floss before the both of you just sits on the hood of his car, enjoying the scenery.

“why’d you suddenly bring me here?”

sae lies down, the sun hitting his face in all the right places. he’s gorgeous, you realise for what seems like the thousandth time since you’d known him.

“oliver told me you’d been a little mopey lately,” sae says, and you’re already embarrassed. “sorry if i’ve been busy lately.”

you mirror his position, lying down next to him, and it feels oddly nice like this. you’re not sure if it’s the situation or the person.

“it’s okay, i heard that kaori’s your old friend right? you guys must have a lot to catch up on.” it doesn’t stop you from feeling jealous, but it’ll pass. you hope.

sae chuckles before he turns to you, and you turn to face him too, “you’re jealous.” he smirks, and you’re reminded of the same thing you told him that first night he kissed you.

“shut up, sae.”

he laughs because you’re being pouty, and because maybe it feels a little nice to know you can feel it too. just then, he mirrors what you did way back in high school, reaching across you for your phone. except he doesn’t key in anything—he opens up your camera and takes a picture of the two of you like this, sae looking naturally handsome and better than you because you’re stunned he’s doing this, eyes wide and expression puzzled.

“what’s that for?”

sae’s still fiddling on your phone as you ask, and then he passes it back to you. he’d set it as your phone’s wallpaper.

“to remind you that you’re the one i like, idiot.”

and even though you and sae aren’t physically too close in the wallpaper, you think maybe it’s enough to tide your feelings through for now. he doesn’t ask you for anything else after that, just leaves his confession at that and sends you home before saying he has to finish up his project, aka going to find kaori.

it’s fine by you though, because now you know where sae’s head’s at, even though he never explicitly asked you anything. you’re sure he knows how you feel too, especially since you’d been the one to kiss him first that day a few years back.

but how apt for you to go to sleep early and be woken up by dozens of messages blowing up your phone, the majority of them attaching pictures at a certain party.

still pictures of sae locking lips with kaori, and you feel your heart sinking.

sae’s message comes through just as you’re scrolling through your phone.

meet me at my place? not what it looks like, i promise.

and maybe it’s because you feel like you know sae well enough that you’re not even panicking. you respond within seconds.

sure, see you!

you take the liberty of going next door, entering when one of the other guys who lives there clumsily walks in drunk. it’s easy enough to find sae’s room, you recognise it from across your own room too well. and maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy but you can’t help but turn your attention to his desk.

his room is all neat with the occasional laundry thrown on the corner of the room, trophies and medals on the bookshelf by the table. but what catches your eye is the little pink heart-shaped post-it note that looks all too familiar.

your handwriting fills the piece of paper.

i think you’re cute and i really really like you

you could cringe right now from how cringe you were being back then. but then you realise, sae kept this? did he keep this knowing it was from you? you hear the door opening downstairs and jump back a little, accidentally pressing on his keyboard while trying to place your note back in its position, and the screensaver that greets you renders you speechless.

it’s the picture sae took of the both of you at the bleachers of his first match.

someone closes the laptop before you can think any more, and you’re greeted with sae right next to you, cheeks flushed—either from alcohol or embarrassment. you can’t really tell, but judging from the lack of alcohol stench, you’d like to bet it’s the latter.

“you have me as your wallpaper?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed he didn’t get there in time for you not to see that. “who else would i put there?”

you bite your tongue to stop yourself from instinctively saying kaori out of spite. guess you’re still a little groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night.

“about earlier,” sae begins, not really sure how to continue.

“you mean the pics going around of you and kaori kissing?” you’re not even mad, you’re sure there’s an explanation—that’s how much you feel you know itoshi sae. he’s not the type to bother with leading someone on; if anything, he’s probably the type to immediately cut things off if he wasn’t interested and so far, he’s always been thinking of you.

sae sighs, rubbing his temple before taking a seat on his bed. “that was fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyes closed. “she was way too tipsy and getting all up in my face and before i knew it she just—” his eyes are open now, briefly looking at you before looking away, hiding behind the sides of his soft locks, “she kissed me. i was stunned for a little so…”

you snicker a little, because sae looks so different from how he usually looks—aloof, ignorant, arrogant. now he looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the side and you can’t help but notice the difference.

“sae… why are you telling me this?”

screw his indecisiveness, if it was in the first place. you want his answer now, up straight. and sae seems to know what you’re thinking because he chuckles, relieved because he can read your tone—you’re not angry, not upset, you trust him somehow and it’s only because despite what you think, you know him better than anyone else.

“fuck off, y/n, you already know,” and he says this affectionately because you can feel the tenderness in the way he says your name, in the way he invites you into his arms—the way he pulls you close and lets you sit facing him on his lap. “you gonna be my girlfriend now or what?”

your lips are so so close and you’re both holding back so so much. “mmm i don’t know, itoshi sae, what if i wanna see you beg me for it?”

“god, i hate you,” he says, without meaning it. it’s the first time you’re actually feeling how strong he is, because he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and throws you on his bed as he hovers over you, a little squeal leaving your lips at the unexpected gesture. “hm, kinda like that sound you make.”

he’s saying it so monotonously that you’re embarrassed. “shut up, sae, before i leave.”

“that’s cute, you think you’d actually leave me,” he teases, and you curse yourself for finding that slight condescending tone of his hot. “but hey, really, be my girlfriend.”

“you asking me that after kissing another girl?” you act shocked, acutely aware of how his fingers are all intertwining with yours, your hands on either side of your head, sae pinning you down. if anyone walked in now, they’d get the wrong idea of what you two are doing. for sure. but you try to act unbothered, you don’t want to boost his ego even more.

sae leans down to press his forehead against yours, and you’re hoping your heart doesn’t leap out of your chest because he’d definitely feel it. “shit timing, i know. but you’re the only one i want, so.”

he’s pretty shit at talking emotions, you realise. and then you realise that this only works because you’re equally good at reading his. despite his reluctance to talk emotions, he shows you how special you are, constantly.

many girls want him, but you’re the one he spends most of his time with. you’re the one with his actual clothes in your closet and his rings on your fingers. you’re the one sae kisses and willingly so, the only one who’s on his wallpaper reminding him of what he’ll have each time he comes home.

“i told kaori i liked you and no one else too,” sae continues explaining, though he really doesn’t need to. you listen anyway. “she got mad and stormed off but shit, i don’t care. only care about you.”

and he’s pretty forthcoming with his feelings when he wants to be and that’s enough for you. you squeeze his fingers lightly and smile at him.

you don’t have to hear any more to know.

“i love you too, itoshi sae.”

the way he marks you that night lets you in on everything you need to know.

UNIVERSITY: SENIOR YEAR

six years.

it’s been six years since you’d first had a crush on itoshi sae. and now you’re his girlfriend, always in the front row for every match and the object of most of his fangirls’ hatred. that’s okay though, none of that matters.

whenever you come back home to your (shared) apartment now, it’s like all your worries melt away into the void, and sae reminds you just how much you mean. even if his pet names are less than swoon-worthy at times.

“you really need to stop posting shit like this,” you deadpan, showing sae your phone screen. it’s a picture of you asleep in the morning, drooling on his bare shoulder.

sae blinks, acting coy like he always does. “what? it’s cute.”

“you’re insufferable, itoshi.”

sae ignores that, switching the subject. “hey, you have any goals for your twenties?”

you hum, pondering. “well, i guess if i could do what i want, i’d travel the world,” you pause, sitting up on the sofa and looking at him. “why?”

it’s the last year of university, and the both of you are finishing your degrees, with the possibility that sae might be getting a contract with one of the overseas clubs. you’re not really sure; there’s a few of them who’ve expressed interest, but you’d always let sae think through it on his own.

does his question have something to do with that?

“was thinking i wanted to take you along if you wanted to come with,” sae half explains, because he’s bad with details like that. he continues when he spots your confusion, “if you wanted to explore wherever i decided to go.”

oh, he means he wants to take you along to wherever he decided to go. you’re flattered, honestly.

“you mean, the itoshi sae wants to bring me wherever he goes, huh?” sae is already turning red, sensing your big head. “you offering to be my sugar daddy too?”

sae sighs. “you’re so stupid, i swear,” he complains, his words lacking any bite because he’s rubbing circles onto your arms. “you said you found some remote jobs right? thought we could make use of that and just go wherever together.”

after six years, you finally see sae trying to plan a future where the both of you are together. he loves soccer, but he loves you too, and you’re not the kind of person who’d make him choose, so you appreciate his compromises instead.

“itoshi sae, i’ll follow you wherever you go.”

he presses a hasty kiss on your lips, “good, ‘cause i plan on keeping you forever.”

you grin, pulling him down to you and kissing him even deeper, “i’ll hold you to your words, then.”

sae smiles against your lips. because he knows he got lucky with you, lucky you were there at the right moment, slipping your love letter into his locker. lucky you continued to like him, lucky you knew how to put him in his place whenever. lucky you’re you and you love him.

maybe he’s always liked you, even back in freshman year of high school when he realised how kind you are, how gentle you could be. you looked pretty in the sun that day, when he first saw you trying out soccer in the yard and falling flat on your ass. you didn’t notice him back then but he noticed you, not that you knew. sae didn’t try anything because he was sure it’d fail. but who knew all it took for his mind to change was a simple nudge from you?

he’s pretty sure that you’re his human manifestation of a forever.

“when the time comes, just say yes.”

[sanchooinc]

painnn😭

ANAGAPESIS - K. SHINSUKE

warnings: break up. heartbreak. self-deprecating thoughts. hurt/no comfort. 3.2k words.

angstober event

kita sighed as he closed the door behind him, the day’s fatigue springing onto him as soon as he took his shoes off, neatly placing them away and putting his slippers on.

it wasn’t particularly often that he had bad days, but he couldn’t exactly hide from them forever.

sure, he had a job he loved, putting all of his passion in it, but nothing really seemed to go right today. he found security and sense in his routines and yet somehow everything was misplaced or even missing today, throwing off his entire schedule.

but he was so glad to be home.

he couldn’t wait to fall into your arms and feel the weight on his shoulders disappear, letting himself be comforted by your warmth.

usually he’d come home and be greeted by you. you’d have some dinner together, either some leftovers or something one of you made (sometimes you prepared dinner together), and calmly let the day pass.

your shared apartment was more that just a few walls and furniture — it was his home, his safe place.

however, today he found you sitting in the living room, dressed in some jeans instead of the usual sweatpants. he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“hey, love,” he greeted you with a warm smile, stepping closer to you, “you going out?”

oddly enough, you didn’t greet him cheerfully like you often did, instead only throwing a weak smile in his direction before looking down to your hands. “can we talk?” you immediately asked him with an almost timid voice.

“sure” kita sat down beside you, his entire body aching as he did so. he could only barely stop himself from letting out a relieved moan as he finally sat down again. grabbing your hand, he turned his entire attention to you. you were fidgeting, toes wiggling on the floor, as if you were anxious. “is everything okay? you seem distressed”

you took a deep breath before absentmindedly chewing on your thumb’s nail. as soon as you noticed however, you immediately brought your hand down, clenching it in your lap. your actions however only confirmed kita’s suspicion. you chewed on your lower lip for a moment before you decided to speak up. “it’s not. i- i need to tell you something,” you felt your heart race in your chest as you spoke, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. you quickly glanced over to kita, noticing the deep frown on his face and his tired, sunken eyes.

it was obvious that he had a hard day and here you were, only making it worse. could you really do that to him?

for a second you paused, before mentally shaking your head. no. you didn’t really have a choice, did you? you couldn’t just continue lying to him.

he deserved better.

“and i feel terrible for bringing it up now, but i don’t think this can wait any longer”

kita nodded slowly, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand slowly. “okay”

he patiently waited for you to begin, yet your mouth went completely dry.

just how were you going to say this to him? could you even do it?

you knew you had to – you didn’t have a choice.

but how could you hurt someone who never did anything to hurt you?

“hey, take a deep breath,” he mumbled to you, “whatever it is, it’ll be alright, i promise”

you clenched your jaw, turning your head away from him and squeezing your eyes shut.

just why did he have to be so damn understanding? why did he have to be so loving and caring?

why was he everything you ever wanted in somebody?

and why were you planning on breaking him?

“love? talk to me,” he spoke softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze after bringing it up to his lips and pressing a small kiss on it. “whatever it is, together we can work this out”

don’t do this. don’t be like this. just this one time.

you quickly shook your head, still not looking at him, when you felt your eyes getting teary.

“i don’t think we can work this out, shin,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break.

before he could even reply, you turned to him, looking at him with teary eyes. “i think we should break up”

kita could only look at you, completely shocked.

was this supposed to be a joke?

no, you would never joke about things like that.

then why?

after way too many moments of silence, kita could still only bring himself to mutter one word. “why?”

you hated to see him like this. his eyes were wide in horror, if not even shock, as he looked at you completely confused. his hand, the same one that held yours so securely just a few minutes ago, was loose around yours, like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be touching you. his eyes, albeit wide open, looked more like he was staring right through you, not focusing on a single thing.

you hated this look on his face.

meanwhile kita felt like he couldn’t breathe, his thoughts running wild, filling his head with way too many concerns at once, before he managed to sort them, the next words spilling over his lips.

“did i do something wrong? did i hurt you?”

he looked so sad, so full of sorrow and guilt.

he couldn’t do anything to hurt you.

pressing his lips into a thin line he looked at your still intertwined hands, giving you a short, weak squeeze. he swallowed down a lump in his throat, looking down in shame before meeting your gaze again. “love, i’m so sorry”

how could he be sorry for something he never did?

“just tell me what it is and i promise i’ll do everything i can to fix it” he sounded so sure, like it was a fact that he was the one that did something wrong, that he had to make up for something, that he was the one at fault.

you were used to kita speaking with a matter-of-factly-tone, no matter what the actual subject matter was. but how could he be so convinced that he did something wrong? he— the one that always thought about the things he did, the one that always thought about what he said, the one that was always sure of what he did and always made sure to care for you, to love you.

and to never hurt you. and he never did.

but you had to hurt him.

you looked down on your intertwined hands, torn between the urge to give his hand a squeeze or pulling yours away. but could you really let him go? “no, shin, listen-,” you tried, only to have him jump in immediately, like he didn’t really hear you in the first place.

“and if you still want to do this, i’ll respect it, i promise. just please, let me do this,” he asked, no, begged, with a sad smile on his face.

it was safe to say that kita felt like you had just pulled the rug away under his feet. he felt lost, confused and most of all guilty. he had always tried to be the best version of himself for you, be the best partner he could possibly be— and even more than that.

did he slack off recently? did he forget an important date? did he neglect you?

“shin”

mentally he ran through the past days, weeks, months, the whole last years, analyzing pretty much everything he could remember. every time you fought, every dumb argument and heated discussion, every time his tone was a little off, every time he didn’t really understand just what you wanted from him and every small thing he might have forgotten. the days he forgot to ask you how your day was, the times he could only give you a short kiss before rushing out the door, the number of times he came home and simply wanted to go to bed, not having the energy to spend a lot of time with you after an excruciatingly hard day working.

was it all too much for you?

he rushed out the door one too many times, his tone was too sharp one too many times, he forgot to kiss you properly one too many times.

he couldn’t really blame you.

but was it really that? was it all of that? was it something else?

were you going to leave him hanging like this?

pressing his lips to a thin line, he forced himself to focus back to you. “at least tell me what i did wrong, please,” kita asked before lowering his head again, taking a deep breath to distract himself from his racing heart, blinking rapidly to get rid of the few stray tears in his eyes. “don’t just leave me like this”

you closed your eyes in shame, not wanting to look at kita so broken.

while he kept asking himself what he had done to you and why you never felt safe enough to talk to him about this, you asked yourself how you could do this to him.

a sad smile on your lips, you shook your head, still not daring to take your hand away from his, desperate to feel his warmth for as long as he would allow you to. “you didn’t do anything wrong, shin,” you whispered through the lump in your throat, your voice all hoarse, “nothing”

nothing?

his head shot up, looking at you with wide and teary eyes. “then why?”

and despite that he looked so calm and even resigned, like he wasn’t even going to protest as soon as you provided him with your reason.

now it was you who looked away, biting your lip as you stared on the floor. “i just,” you stopped, not even wanting to actually say it out loud and make it real. you didn’t want to believe it, much less say it. you still hoped that this was just a weird, long dream, one that you would wake up from and everything would be the way it was before.

you would wake up next to him and he would already be awake, greeting you with his deep morning voice, with a small and loving smile. you would simply mumble some greeting, still half asleep, and move over, putting your head on his chest. his hands would find their way on your back and your heart would skip a beat, your entire body filling with love.

but you haven’t woken up for multiple weeks by now. and you didn’t wake up now.

“i just fell out of love with you”

just like that, kita felt his heart stop in his chest, shattering into a million pieces.

you fell out of love with him.

he nodded slowly, spacing out.

so there was nothing he could do anymore, huh?

did he do too little for you? did he get too used to having you by his side? should he have been more attentive, take you out more, give you more flowers, more compliments and little gifts. he should’ve held you more, kissed you more, loved you more.

he should’ve been more.

maybe then you wouldn’t have fallen out of love with him.

“for how long have you been feeling like this?” he asked slowly, sounding almost shy, like he didn’t want to actually know.

and he truly didn’t.

for how long had he made you feel like this, for long did you feel like you had to stay in a relationship you didn’t want to be in solely because of him?

“i don’t know. for too long”

you knew exactly what thoughts were running in his head. you knew how he must be blaming himself, how he was trying to find any kind of fault in himself.

and there was nothing you could to to relieve him from this, even though none of this was his fault.

you doubted there was anybody at fault — and if there was, you were sure that it would be you.

you were the one that was breaking up with him, you were the one breaking his heart, you were the one that wasn’t perfect, unlike him.

he was always perfect. and that’s what hurt you so much.

he was the ideal partner — he was caring, loving, attentive. honest, loyal, open and always communicating. he was firm, but not strict or mean, never making you feel belittled. and if he did fuck up and do something wrong, he was quick to realize his mistake and apologize, willing to do everything to make up for it and change his behavior.

he was everything anybody could ever want.

and you were throwing him away just like so.

“okay,“ he whispered, nodding to himself before pulling his hand away, clasping his other one with it and putting them in his lap, taking his warmth away from you.

your fingers itched to reach out to him again, try to comfort him, protect him from the same pain that you inflicted on him. you clenched your jaw, clenching your hands into fists instead and digging your nails into your palm. “shinsuke, i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry”

“it’s okay,“ he breathed out, the corners of his mouth reflexively turning up for a second.

you shook your head, swallowing repeatedly. how was this okay or fair? and how could he even thing about comforting you when he was feeling like you were effectively ripping his heart out? “no”

“it is,” he replied immediately, a sad smile on his lips as he looked at you for a short moment. “you can’t choose how you feel, can you?”

you knew he was right — and yet that didn’t give you any comfort. instead, it only made your chest constrict in pain as you clenched your fist even more, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“i never wanted to hurt you,“ you breathed out, voice so weak that you felt like you couldn’t speak up without starting to cry.

why were you the one crying?

“i know” kita smiled sadly at you, looking down at his feet.

silence settled over the two of you, both of you occupied with your thoughts, before you decided to speak again.

“i packed a few things and i’ll stay over at a friend’s house,” you started slowly, getting up from the couch and stepping away from him. “and, uh, look for a place”

kita didn’t look up at you (probably for the better, you didn’t think you could handle his teary face), instead only nodding slightly, playing with the fingers in his lap. “okay”

you left him sitting there, rushing into your once shared bedroom to pack some essentials into a bag.

as you grabbed some clothes, you tried to ignore your blurring vision and the heavy feeling in your chest.

you didn’t want to leave him behind like that as you were gathering your things to leave what has been your shared home for so long.

and yet you had to, you knew it was the best thing to do.

because staying with him would hurt him even more.

when you returned, kita was still sitting in the same spot, looking like he hadn’t moved an inch.

and truly, he didn’t — he felt paralyzed.

was he not good enough? where did he go wrong?

what could he have done to make you fall out of love with him?

he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, clenching his eyes shut, like that would stop the tears from welling up in his eyes.

you shook your head at the sight.

how he could just sit there and let you break his heart, just like that?

“why aren’t you mad at me? you should be yelling at me, cursing at me, anything!” you bursted out, your bag falling on the floor next to you. kita jumped as he heard your voice, turning his head to look at you. he expected you to look angry, irritated, anything but seeing you with tears running over your cheeks. “why are you just letting me break your heart?”

he swallowed thickly before giving you another comforting smile, like the tears on his face weren’t even there.

“it’s not your fault. you can’t choose who you love” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head slightly at his words. “and also not who you fall out of love with”

you looked over at him, looking him up and down before speaking again, your voice slightly agitated. “so? how can you just take it like that?” you asked, gesturing in the air.

how could he just sit there and do nothing?

“nothing i’ll say will change this, won’t it?” he simply stated, sounding resigned. he looked over at you, noticing how you stayed silent, proving his point. “that’s why”

contrary to how that might look, kita wanted nothing more than to fight this. he didn’t want to let you or this relationship go.

he didn’t want to let go of the lazy mornings or late evenings, the trips to the farmers market or the dates at bakeries or cafés, the warm cuddles or cooking dates.

but did he really have a choice?

“i don’t want this, i still love you. i can’t look at you leave, knowing that there’s nothing i can do,” he confessed, twiddling his thumbs as he spoke. “but i will respect your choice and i will not fight to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me anymore”

a pained, but warm smile appeared on his face again when he noticed the tears rolling over your cheeks. “it’s okay. i’m not going to yell at you and i’m not going to call you names or hurt you in any way for something you can’t control”

you swallowed, grabbing your own thigh and digging your nails into the fabric of your pants. you couldn’t even look at him.

you were such a coward.

“why do you have to be so understanding, even in this moment?”

he sighed softly. “you know why,” he whispered, feeling the tears in his how eyes again, “i cannot bring myself to be mad at you and i don’t think i’m able to give you what you want right now. i’m sorry”

he was too good for you. and you were everything he wanted.

“don’t be” you shook your head, trying to blink away the tears as you wiped over your cheeks. “it was dumb to even try to bring you to yell at me. even dumber to ask you to do this to make this easier on me” you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “especially since i’m the one breaking up with you”

you scoffed at yourself before picking up your bag and finally walking towards the door, opening it with shaky hands.

and even though you had thought about this for weeks, way longer than you’d ever like to admit, you weren’t ready for a life without him.

“i’m sorry, shinsuke,” you croaked, still standing in the doorway with your back to him, “i really am”

“i know“ was all you heard before shutting the door behind you and walking away from your home, your relationship, him.

kita always strived for perfection and nothing less of perfection, not just finding comfort in it, but also believing that everybody deserved nothing but the best of him. and that belief has never failed him.

until now.

until he failed you.

reblog and comment to support your fanfic writers

[sanchooinc]

cute

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[sanchooinc]

geto suguru x f!reader, 7.2k

THEMES: office (?) romance au, geto (head empty) suguru, gojo (comedic relief) satoru, a little humour bc its what got me through this. if anything, i hope it makes you chuckle….

SUMMARY: geto makes a startling discovery about you. and worse — about himself.

A/N: this is my first time writing for geto so i’m sorry if he doesn’t read well… don’t boo me please this is just how i see him in my silly lil head :’)

Geto read people well.

It came with the job – being the manager of a team required such skills – but he thinks that he’s had this skill far longer than that. 

If you watched a person long enough, they had different tells. Even the people who were good at putting a mask on had them, and it gave their thoughts and next move away. 

The tiniest fidget in a finger. The twitch in a smile. The awkward shuffle from foot to foot.

It could mean discomfort, interest, or a request.

And knowing made a huge difference to him. It helped in decreasing the anxiousness he would feel, dealing with the uncertainty that comes with people. He could prepare himself for whoever he was dealing with and be one step ahead.

It was why he treasured his little team so much – given the time (suffering) they’d all been through in the two years together, they were easy to read now. They were so familiar, it didn’t cost him as much effort to accommodate them, and even better, they were just as respectful with his needs too.

It wasn’t always that way, except maybe with Shoko. He wouldn’t say getting to know Gojo was all that difficult either, because he was just so honest sometimes. Utahime was a little difficult, but only because she struggled with asking for help and quite frankly, Geto felt weird taking care of someone older than him.

But perhaps you had been the most difficult – which is odd to think about now, because you were the most transparent with him. You had been hard to read initially, because he simply couldn’t understand you. Never met anyone quite like you, honestly. Where one would take offence, you would simply take it in stride. Where one would falter, you were solid.

Geto had found you intimidating, in a similar way that he used to find Gojo to be, back when they had just met. That amount of enthusiasm in a person made him afraid to come close. He didn’t want to be burned. But all the years had shown Geto that the fear was for nothing, really. If anything, you were inspiring to him now. Made him want to try harder. Pushed him towards dedication over resignation.

Geto admired you, and for some reason, you did too. Not that the others didn’t believe in his capabilities, but none of them were as vocal about it as you.

Maybe that’s why he reacted so strongly when he found out you were in love with Toji Fushiguro.

.

.

.

Yes, that Toji Fushiguro. CEO of their company – the big boss.

While Geto was busy fucking around, doodling stick figures in his maths notebook, Toji Fushiguro was already learning the ins and outs of being a savvy businessman, probably hip thrusting his way through women that he could only dream of.

Actually, if he thought about it, a crush on their CEO wasn’t that surprising. A rich, well-educated, and not to mention extremely good looking man who even found the time to take their team on extravagant lunches when he was buried under mountains of work – shit, even Geto would fall in love if he batted for the other team. 

On days you knew he would be in the office, you made sure you wore your extra nice cashmere jumper and read up on the latest articles about the company so you could ask questions. That was the closest thing to admiration you had ever shown anyone (beyond Taylor Swift, but that was a Real Celebrity; Toji was a celebrity in his own way, but Geto knew him, had seen him in the halls of their company building. He was real real.)

And of all the places, he found out during a quick coffee run: 

There had been a heatwave in Tokyo, the burning heat in the office threatening to turn everyone into human soup (gross he knows), and Gojo was nothing short of insisting that he was in dire need of an iced latte. 

Somehow the topic of dating came up, and it quickly turned into a 20 questions type thing. Geto was always uneasy when personal questions were asked, because was this even right in an office setting? Would he somehow be hurtled into a HR call about appropriate work behaviour? He was the project manager. A supposed role model of sorts. 

But if he had to be honest, he did enjoy it. Especially when the questions were saucy. 

“Don’t call them saucy,” you complained when Geto raised an eyebrow at one of Utahime’s questions, a smirk lingering on his face. 

For all your professionalism, Geto knew you liked it too, because you let the conversation flow rather than quickly changing the subject. 

“Y/N-chan, would you ever date one of your seniors?” Gojo quipped.

“How much of a senior are we talking?” 

“Let’s start easy. Say ten.” 

“Ten years,” Geto whistled. “That’s a pretty big difference.”

“It’s not that big.” you countered. “We’re all adults here and–”

“Yeah, but don’t you think you’d be at different life stages?” Geto raised his hand. “Say you’re 22. That would mean dating someone who is 32, right? You’re still at the beginning of adulthood, while the other person is probably ready to get hitched and settle down. Wouldn’t it be hard to relate to each other?”

You sipped your cappuccino in thought, “I think what matters is your mindset and priorities, right? I mean, think about it – I know people at 22 who have gotten married and settled down to start a family. And I know plenty of people in their mid-30s who wouldn’t even dream of that. Don’t you think connection can exist no matter the age?”

“Yes…” Geto paused as he wondered how to phrase it without sounding harsh, and then deciding to just say it, “but come on, would you date someone ten years older than you–”

Your eyes widened significantly. Geto hurriedly added, “I mean, wouldn’t you feel a little daunted? How can someone leagues ahead of me in life like me?

“I’ve never thought about it that way,” you said as you started walking back to the company building. Your voice had an undercurrent of longing, “I think I would still go for it. You never know what could happen anyway. They could be the one.” 

There was something that Geto wanted to prod into further but Gojo quickly cut him off. 

“I’ll support you! If you marry a rich, older man then good for you. Just don’t forget my invitation to the wedding.”

He rolled his eyes, but when Utahime and Gojo walked ahead he couldn’t help but ask. 

(Side note - he immediately regretted asking.)

On the walk back, Geto lightly poked your side, “So, you got a senior you like? Anybody cute that I know?”

You rubbed your side. “Suguru, please. Don’t do that.”

Geto patted your back, “Sorry. Do you mean the teasing or the light poke? Because if it’s the latter, I’m starting to think your little gym workouts are for nothing. That was a really light poke–”

“Both,” you answered dryly. “You’re a lot stronger than you think. But also, please don’t ask me, I don’t want to talk about it–”

“Why not?” Geto asked, pouting. “I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me and Gojo won’t even hear a peep–”

You suddenly kicked at his shins, almost causing him to lose his balance. Which would have been absolutely humiliating considering there were witnesses around, and some of them were important (with a capital I). Geto righted himself and found that out when he made eye contact with none other than Toji Fushiguro himself (yes, we are finally getting to the point of the story).

Toji hid his laugh with a small cough. He was too nice. If it was any one in his team, they would have just pulled out their phone and recorded it to send into the group chat. His little flub would be an ongoing joke for weeks. Those absolute savages.

Geto did his best to look normal, bowing to greet him. “Fushiguro-shachou. It’s nice to see you here.”

“Hi Toji-san.” you greeted informally beside him. Geto raised a brow. Since when were you guys on a first name basis? 

Fushiguro walked up to them and attempted to bow, despite the fact that both of his hands were full. Geto heard you giggle, which if he could raise his brow further at, he absolutely would.

Question mark emoji, question mark emoji, question fucking mark emoji. Eyebrow raise emoji?

“How have you guys been?” Fushiguro asked. “Heard the first phase of the project ended well.” 

“It did, thank you.” Geto answered. “Some minor mishaps here and there, but overall it was good. We even managed to secure more funds for the next phase.”

Fushiguro looked every bit their Superstar CEO as he said, “It happens. There’s always a next thing to do better at. All that matters is your team got it finished within the deadline, and even exceeded the target.” 

“Toji-san,” you said shyly, and Fushiguro turned his full attention to you. An itch started somewhere down Geto’s throat. He swallowed. “I just wanted to thank you for the extra advice you gave me. I think it really won the investors over.” 

Fushiguro brightened, “Did it really?” 

You hummed affirmatively, “It did! If you have any more expertise to share, there were certain aspects of the negotiations I struggled with and–”

“Of course,” Fushiguro said, and then he pulled out his phone, read whatever message he seemed to get, then shot them both an apologetic look. “My apologies, I forgot I had a meeting in a couple of minutes, but please reach out whenever you guys are free. Let me treat you to a meal–”

“Ah, Fushiguro-shachou, there’s no need,” Geto started to say, but he had already started walking past them and yelled, “Congratulations again!”

You waved, which is when Geto side-eyed you and said, “What was all that?”

“What?” you said, not even bothering to look at him. You pulled out your phone from your pocket and from where Geto was standing, he could see that you had opened your messages. “Suguru, can I ask you for a favour?”

Geto supposed he trusted you enough. “Sure?”

“Could you pretend you’re busy whenever he sets up a meal for us?” you asked. Geto’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground. You’re asking him to miss out on not only a free meal, but a free premium meal? What if their CEO had wanted to take him out for some A5 Wagyu steak? The project was making him good money, but not enough money for a casual weekday night meal with A5 Wagyu. 

Geto crossed his arms over his chest, “Why?” Because if something was standing in between him and premium beef, it better be a good reason. 

“I need to talk to him. Alone,” you insisted, seeming to hit send on your phone on something and then pocketing it. “Will you?” 

“What, you don’t want me to hear?” he asked. “What do you guys even have to talk about? I am the project manager after all.” 

“He’s someone I admire and respect,” you replied, so matter-of-fact it silenced anything else he had to say. “I think you can easily imagine what we’d talk about,” and then began to walk towards the elevator. 

Things began to add up in his head. A senior you admired and respected. The ten year difference question from earlier. You asking for privacy with Toji Fushiguro. Geto barely passed his maths class, but by god, his years of watching old school tv dramas have finally borne fruit. 

You liked Toji Fushiguro. And you were going to confess.

“Suguru?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. You were already a few paces away. “Are you coming?” 

“Yeah,” he said, feeling a little faint. His body moved on its own, but his mind was stuck on his new discovery. “I’m coming.”

.

.

.

Geto wished he had easier problems, like Gojo for example. Gojo had been looking at his hair in the mirror and talking to himself about on-set baldness. Which, in all fairness, is a terrible struggle to have, but it’s not like he wasn’t vain enough to let himself go bald. There’s surgery to fix that kind of shit now. 

Meanwhile, there doesn’t seem to be any amount of money that can fix his problem. 

Fuck, he wanted to tear his hair out. It was a fit of dramatics more befitting of his BFF (Gojo, not Shoko), but Sue him. If money cannot fix something in this capitalistic world, then isn’t he truly, deeply fucked? 

How was he going to break it to you? Maybe he didn’t have to, he could just let you find out for yourself. At your dinner. Tonight. With Toji Fushiguro. 

That Toji Fushiguro wasn’t actually single. That he was, in fact, the very opposite of single. Worse, he was in love. With a person that definitely wasn’t you. 

“...Guru?” Shoko asked beside him. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

Shoko looked at him with concern. “I just told you I almost broke the spreadsheet, and you didn’t even react. I make fun of you for your lack of brain cells, but you’re not that bad.”

“Sorry, I was thinking,” Geto said, running a hand through his hair. 

Innocently, Shoko asked, “You think?”

It is only Shoko’s position as Geto’s favourite team member (a record she’s held far longer than anyone else) and his amazing level of self-restraint that he did not commit an act of foulness against her. Geto gave her a dead-eyed stare, “I hold 50% of this team’s brain cells actually.” 

“Suguru,” Shoko said, unserious. She reached out and held Geto’s hand, “Have you been sleeping well? These delusions you have are starting to worry me. Y/N and I actually hold all the brain cells–”

Geto snatched his hand away. He sniffs, “I’m the project manager for a reason. I bet if I take my MBTI now I’d be a Thinker. I think everyday. I am thinking right now.” And then, only because she had mentioned you first, “Hey, I have a question–”

Shoko picked up her phone, “Go ahead.” 

“Say you have a friend that likes someone,” he started nonchalantly. Shoko hums– he continues, “And that person your friend likes is already dating someone… would you or would you not tell them?”

Shoko’s eyebrows pinched together, “Why wouldn’t I tell them?” 

“Because,” Geto said. Why didn’t he? “I don’t know? Maybe you wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings? Or maybe it’s none of your business?” 

Shoko scratched her head, “Isn’t it our duty as friends to warn them of such things? Sounds simple to me. Am I missing something?”

Geto wanted to hit her head. Maybe it was wrong to ask Shoko, who saw solutions easily, because she didn’t think too hard about stupid things. He should’ve talked to Gojo or something. “Maybe,” he dragged out, “you’re a coward and you love minding your own business and–” 

Shoko opened her phone and started doing her daily tasks on Duolingo, “Just tell your friend, Suguru–” 

Geto gave in and despite that fact that the two of them were the only people left in the office (Gojo and Utahime had left at the exact time they stopped getting paid to work like the anti-capitalists they were), he whispered urgently, “I can’t just fucking tell Y/N–”

“Y/N? Her crush is single though,” Shoko narrowed her eyes at him, then shrugged. “At least, last time I checked.” 

“I thought you knew. It’s not really a secret. Pretty much everyone in the company knows Toji Fushiguro is dating someone.” 

Shoko’s face twisted in confusion, “Fushiguro-shachou? Our CEO? What’s he got to do with this–”

The door opened, and Geto did his best to look casual as you stepped into the room. “Hey,” he greeted, also casually. God, he should be called King of Casualness with how casual he’s being. “How was your dinner?”

“It was good!” you said, smiling brightly. Geto tried hard not to look at your mouth. To not inspect for evidence of kissing. Not that he thought the big boss would do anything when he already had a girlfriend, but he only slept for four hours last night, which explains the crazy thoughts. “Full. He took me out for Kaiseki.” 

“That sounds good,” Geto said. “Wish I had some.” 

You rolled your eyes as you took off your coat. You were dressed so lovely. The simple fact was upsetting to him. To his stomach, specifically. “I’m sorry,” you said, walking over to your desk. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“I want to be taken out.” Geto demanded. 

You playfully put a finger gun up to his head, “Like this?”

Geto grabbed your wrist and stared up at you, “To dinner.”

“Okay,” you said. You looked at Shoko and asked, “You wanna come too?”

Shoko looked between the two of you before going back to her phone, “Nah. You guys can go by yourselves.

Geto didn’t question it. The entirety of your wallet all to himself. He would not look a gift horse in the mouth, or however that saying went. “Nice. We have to do it soon. Before we get those annual company pictorials for the website. So my face doesn’t swell up–”

“Alright, alright,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He asked about you, by the way. He said to contact him some time. He said he wants to treat all of us next time.” 

Shoko piped up, “Zenin Naoya-san said the same thing. He heard about how well the first phase went and wanted to congratulate us. Can you imagine that? Both the CEO and COO want to take us out for a meal. We’re about to be fed good.”

The entirety of your wallet was nice, but now the CEO and COO wallets were in the mix? Geto must have done something good in a past life to be treated like this. 

“I know,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “I really admire them. Toji-san isn’t even that much older than us and look at everything he’s achieved.”

Geto bit his lip. The awe in your voice. He really should say something, but who was he to ruin this? 

A good friend, the little voice in his head that sounded like Shoko said. You’re a good friend. A good manager even, and you should take care of her because she does her best to take care of you. 

He took a deep breath, drawing Shoko’s attention towards him. “Y/N, about Fushiguro-shachou–”

“Actually,” Shoko said, speaking over him pointedly, “He is really cool, huh? Wasn’t he your role model for the longest time?” 

You spoke sweetly, “He still is. He’s just… too good.” 

It felt like a stone had dropped deep down to the pit of his stomach. Too good? Where has he heard that before? Why did it sound so familiar–

It hit Geto suddenly. That’s exactly how Gojo had sounded like when he was stupid and seventeen and pining over his first girlfriend (albeit, probably not in the same sense as you were thinking). Man. If he was working with deductive conclusions before, he had solid proof now. It was worse than he initially thought, actually.

You were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Toji Fushiguro.

(Yes, fuck you, he was quoting Twilight. It’s a trauma response.)

.

.

.

Geto wasn’t built to keep secrets. He hated lying. He loved a little gossip. Yes, he loved minding his own business, and yes, he was nosy as hell – these two things can co-exist. Most importantly, he prided himself in being a good friend, and it’s killing him, sitting with the knowledge that could break your heart. 

Such things shouldn’t be left up to him. He knows he basically signed up for difficult tasks when he became the project manager, but he didn’t think it would cover stuff like this. It was already painful (read: humiliating) having to sit in at a Human Resources meeting, because Gojo and the team lead from a different project can’t keep their hands off each other in the break room, and you’ve been tasked to follow them as their eternal third wheel so they can’t eye fuck each other when walking around the office (read: Geto is very fucking bitter about this). 

But this is a whole other level. 

You’re nice, even though your image paints you as someone with a resting bitch face most of the time. You’re sweet, hardworking, loyal, and all these other great things – but most importantly, you are a romantic. And if you’ve supposedly loved Toji Fushiguro for some time now, how was Geto supposed to tell you without feeling like an asshole?

He thought of it every time he saw you. Guilt flooding through him like a tsunami, waves and waves of it. He started to avoid you until he could muster up the courage and the right timing to break it to you. Which has been very hard, because the moment Geto decided to avoid you, you decided to stick to him like glue. 

You sat beside him during meetings and lunch, which made it hard to eat because his heart would just be pounding in his chest. The palpitations were upsetting his stomach and made it hard to concentrate on whatever report he was supposed to be reading.

You would also offer to bring in some baked treats for him, to which Geto had to reject pitifully. You baked like Mary Berry, and he had to pretend he wasn’t interested. Wasn’t hungry. It was so out of character for him that you began to ask if he was sick or something. Geto, of course, brushed it off but the next day you brought in daifuku. Fresh and still a little bit warm from a stall down the street. He wasn’t cruel enough to not eat it. 

(He also wasn’t selfless enough to not eat it, because damn, all this guilt was making him hungry.)

He even started skipping the weekly team dinners. He was busy, he said. He had to finish an important report, he said. You had only frowned, worry building behind your eyes. Geto thought he was this close to getting called out, but by the grace of project deadlines and difficult clients, he was saved. 

The whole team had been asked to visit a client’s main office in Kyoto. They had been given a generous budget for travel and other expenses, and Geto took the opportunity to book them all separate hotel rooms for the three day trip. 

He successfully managed to avoid you during the trip planning for the most part, busying himself with other things - but the guilt stayed and worsened, because the night before he was set to go on ahead of everyone else, you had hugged him, nice and tight, on your way out. Whispered quietly to him, don’t work too hard, you’re already doing great.

God, this was depressing him. 

.

.

.

Geto had been asked to attend a private meeting with the client and a proposed new investor, so naturally he arrived a day earlier. 

That evening, at the hotel, he chose to lie down immediately, happy to not be bothered by anyone else for a while. He resolved not to think about anything– which isn’t that hard, for not thinking anything was his preferred natural state of mind– and just rest. He loved it, the silence, the lack of people constantly asking him for an update, the chance to just breathe without anybody peeking in. 

He enjoyed the peace for a good solid five minutes before he heard a knock on the door.

Geto resisted the urge to suffocate himself with a pillow.

He composed himself. He stood up, even though all life wanted to do was for him to stay down. He opened the door and was hit immediately with something hard and cold, square in the chest.

It fell sadly on the carpeted floor.

“You,” Geto said. 

“It’s me!” Gojo sing-songed, before picking up the ice cream he threw and shoving it into Geto’s hands. “What’s wrong with you? I leave you alone for a couple days and you’re all sad. What happened? Tell your soulmate.” 

Geto rubbed his face with his hands, “Why are you here already? Did you take an earlier train than planned? Are the others here too?” 

“We chose to arrive the night before so we would all be fresh as a daisy for tomorrow! Shoko should be arriving in the next hour,” Gojo said, entering the room and making a beeline for his bed. He plopped down, looking around before turning to face him. “Utahime took the same train I think so she should be around the same time as her. Y/N… I think she’ll be a bit later. Apparently, they fucked up her ticket.” 

Geto didn’t know if he should be sad or sigh in relief. Oddly enough, he felt both.

Gojo patted the spot next to him, “Come sit with me.” 

Geto sighed, closing the door even as he said, “Satoru, I’m tired. I kind of just want to rest before tomorrow happens.” 

“Hm,” Gojo hummed, narrowing his eyes. “Something is wrong with you.” 

“Thanks,” Geto replied, tiredly sitting down beside him. He opened the ice cream with the same level of energy. “My mother said the same thing when I was born.” 

“You’ve been saying that for the past week now. And at first, I let it pass because we were preparing for this trip, but Suguru, you looked burdened. With Something. And I think it’s time for you to talk about it.” 

Trust Gojo to get to the heart of the matter. Just like you. No, ugh. Geto hated this. Why did it all come back to him? 

He doesn’t want to have this conversation with Gojo, and he says so out loud. “This is weird,” he complained. 

Gojo took a small bite of his popsicle and flinched at the cold after, “Why is it weird?”

“Because,” Geto said, shrugging. “I’m usually the one giving advice to you.To everyone, it feels like. It’s weird.” 

“It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve ever had a problem,” Gojo said. “Nor is it the first time any of us has offered a hand to help you out. Shoko definitely has and you let her just fine–” 

Geto shook his head. “It’s different. That was relating to our work, and we were looking out for the team because–”

“Y/N takes care of you, and you let her,” Gojo cut. The mention of your name sliced at him. And by the way Gojo’s face lit up, it was visceral. “But she’s different… isn’t she?”

You were different. Always have been. Geto likes easy, likes things, even relationships, simple. It’s why his favourite person in the world was Shoko, who has always provided a place of comfort and ease for him, who always understood him without words. 

And while he could read you well now, there was this new development that had made it difficult for Geto to be with you. It’s that you’re so honest, so open to him that makes this hard. Why couldn’t he be the same? Why couldn’t he just address the elephant in the room? 

And anyone else, he’d just run further from, further than he was running now, but this was you. This was a friend that felt closer to him than anyone else sometimes. He could only run so far, before the red string of fate they tied on each other’s fingers pulled him back. 

Geto shrugged, nonchalant seeming as he admitted, “She makes everything quiet.” 

Gojo said nothing, waiting for you to expand. 

“She makes me forget all the doubts I have about myself, because she’s unflinching in her belief in me,” he said. “She makes me want to try and do better, because she makes failure look like it’s just another step she has to take. I admire her a lot.”

“That’s…” Gojo sucked on his popsicle. “That’s so romantic, dude–”

Geto smacked the side of his head on reflex, “What the fuck, Satoru–”

“OW,” Gojo complained loudly. He gave Geto a betrayed look, “Why would you hit me–”

“Why would you say romantic,” he panicked. “So what if I admire her, huh? So what if I want to impress her? And that I want to earn the image she has of me in her head?”

Gojo stared at him unimpressed and wagged his half-eaten popsicle at him, “This is why you have to start watching the rom-coms I recommend. Maybe if you stopped rejecting my movie invites, you would recognise what a fucking fool of a rom-com male lead you are and be making out with her right now–” 

“I cannot be hearing this from a balding man who has spent months pining over the team lead–” 

“Well, this balding man has been having regular sex with her, so who’s the real winner here–” 

Geto’s head started aching, so he started massaging his temples. Gojo took pity on him and practised volume control, “As your self-proclaimed best friend, it’s my job to hold your hand through these terrible realisations. Look at the bright side, you already attended all of the required Dating in the Workplace meetings because of me. Now, you can happily date your co-worker. I can send you the form you have to fill out–” 

“Stop, stop, stop,” Geto said, because his brain just started working again. Worse, it was starting to recognise all the signs of Romantic Feelings. Worse, it just remembered you were in love with someone else. “She doesn’t even like me like that. She’s… in love with somebody else.” 

“I know, right,” Gojo nodded furiously. “That girl is like, in love with raisins. Do the cookies really need that much–” 

Quite frankly, Geto didn’t think Gojo had any right to be critiquing other’s food choices when he was so picky himself. But he had bigger problems here, “Oh my god, Satoru. I’m in one of those unrequited love situations.” 

“You literally don’t know that.” 

“No, I do know,” Geto replied, depression hitting him again. “She’s in love with Toji Fushiguro. Dude, how am I supposed to compete with the literal CEO. I have to lie down.” 

Gojo looked at him weird, “What? How did you even find that out? Did you hear her say that? 

“It’s complicated,” Geto said, not having the energy to explain his amazing deduction skills to him. “But I’ve pretty much confirmed it. Actually, that’s why I’ve been feeling so guilty. You… know he’s dating someone, right?”

Gojo was still looking at him weird but assented, “Yes… everybody knows that.” 

“Well, I’ve been trying to find a way to let her down gently, but it’s hard. I don’t want to break her heart.” he finished. 

Gojo snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. Geto frowned. He thought that as a fellow romantic, Gojo would understand, so why was he laughing? He suddenly had an idea, “Hey, maybe you can tell her… I’m actually surprised no one has. I think you should tell her.” 

Gojo took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. Then he looked at Geto and spoke seriously, “Listen, Suguru. I think you need to remember who you are and tell her yourself. I think you have apologies to make either way–”

“What–” 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoiding her,” Gojo said smugly. He pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at Geto’s eyes and said, “I’m always watching you.”

“That,” Geto said, standing up and heading towards the door, “is one of the creepiest things you’ve ever told me. Go back to your room and let me rest.” 

Gojo left, but not without throwing his popsicle stick in Geto’s trashcan and advice in his face, “Talk to her when she gets here.” 

.

.

.

“The journey was awful,” you said in lieu of a greeting. “Thanks for asking.”

You came from behind. Geto had texted you, after seeing the notification from the group chat that you had finally arrived, and asked if you guys could talk. The hotel was nice– private, and a short walk away to a small park with a river running through it.

Geto kept his mouth shut, choosing instead to kick a small pebble further down the path, “I heard from Utahime.” 

You made a soft noise; had it come from anyone else, Geto would call the sound wounded, but this was you. Always calm and collected. Always brimming with a positive light. All in a league of your own. 

“You could have asked me, though. You always used to tell me that it was different, that hearing from me, personally, was important–” 

Geto chanced a glance at you and found himself surprised to find your cheeks flushed, hands strangely curled into fists. “Hey–”

“Are you upset at me?” you asked. “Did I do something to make you mad? Because you can tell me, you know that. I don’t like being left in the dark, second-guessing what every second of your silence means.” 

Your eyes flashed to him, watery. 

It punched the breath out of him. He’s the stupidest piece of shit in the world. He wanted to march into the river and let it swallow him whole. 

Geto sighed, running his hands through his hair, “No, god, I’m not. I couldn’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong–” 

“Then,” you burst out, eyes searching, “Then why have you been avoiding me? 

“I,” he started before letting out an aggravated groan. He didn’t know how to explain to you what’s been on his mind this entire time; worse, his mouth is impatient, going on ahead before his brain could come up with a plan, “Toji Fushiguro doesn’t deserve you!”

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“Yes,” Geto spit out. “He’s nice, and hardworking, and rich and all that, but he doesn’t deserve you. Y/N, he’s too old for you, and worse, he’s dating someone else. Has been for years now. And it’s killing me to see you in love like this, when you deserve someone better. Someone who will treat you right and honour your dreams and make you properly happy, and he is not it.” 

Geto found himself breathing hard. Like, really hard. He’s so heated. 

And all you had to say in response was: “Don’t ever say that in the office.” 

“Fuck the company!” Geto said, with less heat. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he did. And he didn’t really mean it. “I’m just joking.” 

“I know,” you said, smiling now. Geto started smiling now too, a smile that immediately dropped when you continued, “I’m not in love with him though.”

Geto blinked. And then it dawned on him suddenly– that he’d been sulking round, pissy as fuck, stressed as hell, for nothing. Worse, he’d gone and embarrassed himself in front of you. His cheeks heated up, all the blood in his body clearly going there, because the rest of him was turning numb. Worst of all was the relief rushing through him like air. 

You didn’t love Toji Fushiguro. Didn’t even like him in that way. 

A smile began to spread on his face and it froze when you raised a brow, “Was that why you were avoiding me? You could have just told me from the very beginning.”

Geto’s hands started sweating, “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You know my feelings don’t get hurt like that,” you said. “I would have appreciated the warning, honestly. If, you know, I was into him like that.” 

He felt cornered. The river was starting to look like a great option again. The pull of it was strong. He stuttered, “You were all hurt just now! When you thought I was avoiding you–” 

“That’s different,” you said, turning to fully face him. You cocked your head to the side, “I care more about what you think. I thought I’d said something hurtful, like I’ve lost your trust or something–”

And then there was this: the pull of your heart, bare and vulnerable, rare as childish joy, more gravity than the sea. Geto couldn’t– wouldn’t resist it. “You could never–”

“I worried,” you continued, blazing on, “because you said once you were the type to never forgive and to never forget, and once your trust was lost, it was lost forever. And Suguru, I couldn’t bear it, because I worked hard to earn it and–”

Geto has never seen you this distressed, this frazzled, and he couldn’t stand to be the cause of it. He held you tightly by the cheeks and was rewarded once again with your wide-eyed surprise. 

“God, I love you,” Geto said, then paused after realising the sudden gravity of his words. In hindsight, he should have continued, should have clarified he meant platonically, like one would love friends, but something in your face smoothed, clear as glass–

“I love you too,” you said, then pulled him down without hesitation for a clumsy kiss. 

“Wait–” Geto said, muffled against the cold press of your lips. You frowned as he managed to push you away. “Do you mean love, like love love or like I love you, bro?”

Your eyes narrowed, brows stitching in confusion, “I mean, I love you. What did you mean?

“Oh,” Geto said, sounding like he’d been hit over the head, struck stupid– which is also exactly how he felt right now. “Wow.”

Several emotions flickered across your face, too fast for him to catch, before it shuttered and you announced, “I’m going back to my room.” 

His head jumped, as he watched you turn around and walk briskly back to the hotel. Something in his brain clicked; all the pieces came together– the forward touches, the hurt looks thrown his way, the goddamn kiss just now– and propelled his legs forward to catch up to you. “Wait!”

For once, Geto thanked the fact that his legs were long, that yours were much shorter, so he caught up easily. He grabbed your arm and spun you around, “Hey–”

“Can you not manhandle me,” you demanded, the pallor of your cheeks now a bright red. You struggled, “This isn’t funny, let me go–”

He immediately did, raising his hands in surrender, “I’m sorry, just– are you embarrassed?”

“Surprise,” you said sourly. “I have feelings, like everyone else–”

“I know that,” Geto assured. “After all this time, do you think I wouldn’t know that? But it’s just me–” 

“Just you,” you muttered under your breath, and Geto grabbed your hands this time and squeezed it. He tried to joke, “It is just me. I know I am incredibly handsome, funny, talented–”

You threw him a glare, “You are those things–”

Geto grinned because a compliment is a compliment, and a compliment from you was worth its weight in gold. 

You called him out, “You’re infuriating–”

“You’re starting to sound like Satoru,” he said and laughed when you gave him the most tired expression he had ever seen in his life. “You’re so–”

“If you’re going to reject me, just do it,” you said. 

“–cute,” Geto finished. 

You stared up at him, expectant. The night breeze sped past your bodies, ruffling your hair. Geto squeezed your hands again and said, “I don’t know if I deserve you either. For a long time, I was baffled even, for how much you believed in me. There are nights, I confess, where I still feel like I don’t deserve it–”

He paused, waited for you to say something, but you just shook your head, made a soft noise that said, keep going.

“The team,” Geto mentioned, because it cannot not be mentioned. “Our work–”

“Comes first,” you finished, but he shook his head, “Actually, I think it should come second–”

You smacked him, “Don’t say that–”

“I’m just joking,” Geto said, but a part of him wasn’t sure what he’d put first if it came to it down the line. Had it been anyone outside of his little circle, it wouldn’t even be a worry, the answer would be easy– Geto was pragmatic; he wouldn’t bring his own problems to them. 

“You wouldn’t have to choose,” you said softly. “If that’s what you’re worried about. Because it’s just as important to me, as it is to you.” 

Nobody can promise that, he thinks. Not even you, whose talent is performing seven impossible things before he’s even had his first sip of coffee in the morning. But he was touched by the sentiment, his heart grew so big in his chest that it hurt. 

“You’re my partner,” Geto said, reaching for your cheek. It was cold. He ached to warm it up as he stroked it, “I trust you the most, you know?” 

You closed your eyes briefly as you held his wrist. Quietly, you asked, “Do you love me too?” 

“I do love you,” Geto confessed easily. 

“Like love love or like I love you, bro?” you asked, looking absolutely serious about it. But there was the slightest tug of a grin in the corners of your lips. Foul.

He rolled his eyes, making you laugh. “Alright, alright,” Geto admitted. “I suppose I deserve that for earlier–” 

“Next time, get straight to the point–” 

Geto leaned down instead, intending to kiss you, but you blocked him with a hand on your mouth. You stared, “Not here.” 

“You literally kissed me earlier, you little ingrate,” he complained but knew better. “Fine, let’s go back to my room instead–” 

You gasped as you wrapped your hands around your body protectively. “That’s a little scandalous. I’m not Gojo Satoru. I don’t put out on the first date, not that there’s anything wrong with that sort of behaviour, but I do have standards–”

Geto kissed you this time, swift but sweet. “I’ll protect your virtue,” he said, unbearably fond. “I love you.” 

You blushed, burying your face against his chest, “I love you too.” 

.

.

.

[Flashback plays]

“Toji-san,” you shyly asked as you both waited for the meal. “Could I ask you for some advice?” 

In front of you, Toji sat up straight in his seat. He took his duty seriously. “Yes,” he gestured for you to go on. “I’m happy to answer any question.” 

“Well,” you started, “Could you give me advice on how you started dating your fiancée? I know that you used to work with her, so I just thought that you could, you know…” 

Toji looked taken aback by the question. You nearly took the question back, but he looked relaxed in his seat, shook his head, and put his hands on his hips, “Y/N, first word of advice. Patience. I waited three years. Do you think you can wait that long?”

You balked before composing yourself, “I think I would lose my mind if I had to wait another year, Toji-san.”

“I nearly did too,” Toji said solemnly. “Here’s what you need to do–”

gojo spin off fic here! (NSFW)

[sanchooinc]

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.  

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?” 

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!” 

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 

tears dance along his lashline. 

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 

you cave. “how will you fix us?” 

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

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

[sanchooinc]

NO WAY THIS IS TOO CUTE

"What the hell are you listening to?"

Ushijima looks up from his phone at Kageyama's disgruntled question but Hoshiumi's chiming in before he can answer as he looks over his teammate's shoulder.

"To the most random playlist I've ever seen." Hoshiumi grimaces. "Is that opera? The fuck?"

Ushijima tilts his head thoughtfully. "I suppose Andrea Bocelli is opera--"

"But you've got a song by milet right after that," interrupts Hoshiumi. "And then...NF? Is that even a name?"

"I assume so," Ushijima answers.

Kageyama frowns, even more confused. "You don't know?"

Ushijima shakes his head. "No, I don't." A small smile lifts the corner of his lips. "This isn't my playlist after all."

At the mention of your name Kageyama and Hoshiumi instantly understand but patiently listen to Ushijima's fond description of the way you're always singing at home. From a quiet hum to yourself to a grand performance in the shower your voice fills your shared home

and his heart.

Listening to your playlist is a comfort for him when he's away; he can imagine you singing as you fold your laundry or put away groceries.

And even better

"I learn the songs this way," Ushijima tells his teammates, "so when I get home

"we can sing together."

[sanchooinc]

LOVED THIS

roses. kita shinsuke x reader

“Wow.”

You say this aloud, voice not at all absent of amazement as you enter the classroom and greet your seatmate: Kita Shinsuke. But, it’s not Kita you’re looking at. Rather, you’re staring with wide eyes at the mountain of roses that has amassed on top of his desk, in every color flower imaginable. 

It’s Valentines’ Week at your school, and your high school offers cheap rose deliveries for sale: you can send a rose and a note to anyone of your choosing, whether it be a significant other, a secret crush, or just a friend that you appreciate. You clutch your single pink rose to your chest and make your way to your seat. The Mt. Fuji of roses on Kita’s desk makes yours feel small and insignificant.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, having the decency to look embarrassed. “Do you want me to move them?”

“No, no,” you tell him, sitting down in your seat next to him. It’s not surprise that he’s gotten this many. 

Kita is the captain of the volleyball club, even though you’ve heard people say that he’d never even been given a uniform before the start of this year. That didn’t matter to you; at his shy request, you’d gone to the Spring Tournament to watch them play. The way he moved across the court, saving even the most precarious of balls, was mesmerizing. His reputation also isn’t short of praise. He’s one of the top students in the grade and his sweet, polite charm is what draws everyone to him. He’s unobtainable to most girls, who have clearly relied on their rose grams to confess their admiration for him. But to you, he’s just your regular ol’ classroom partner. 

Well… you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. 

It doesn’t matter; he clearly has too many girls on his hands anyways. You’d hate to be another girl lost in that sea of roses piled atop his desk. 

As you reach into your bag to pull out your belongings, Kita questions, “You got a rose too?”

Yeah, you had. You purse your lips, attempting to bite back the smile on your lips. A pink rose, your first gifted rose ever, except the note attached to it had nothing but a little smiley face written on it. It was a pleasant surprise, one you hadn’t been expecting when you walked into school today. “Yeah, just one… I don’t know who it’s from, though,” you respond, feeling a sweet warmth creep up your body and rest on your face. Your mind runs wild with questions, wondering who would do such a thing, but you ultimately decide that when the time is right, that person will reveal themselves. 

“Oh,” replies Kita, sounding almost disappointed. Then, before you can even question his tone, he wears a warm smile on his lips once again. “Maybe that person will work up the courage to say something soon.”

“Hopefully,” you respond, a smitten smile dancing over your lips. 

“Pink roses symbolize love and admiration, you know.” 

“Do they?” Kita nods in response to your question. “Oh… that’s nice. How do you know that?” 

“My grandmother has a flower garden. I help with her arrangements sometimes.” 

The bell rings, signifying the beginning of class. As the teacher begins to pull together the attention of class, you nod your chin toward the stack of flowers on Kita’s desk. There must be at least forty piled there… “Maybe you can use those arrangement skills to do something with that,” you tell him, with a small laugh. 

Then, you turn your attention to the teacher’s announcements, but Kita’s eyes remain gently glued to the lonely pink flower on your desk. Yes, maybe one day that person would work up the nerve to confess.

In Kita’s eyes, it didn’t matter how many flowers he received; after all, he only sent one. 

[sanchooinc]

all this cuteness aside, i think aran would be a great friend (and wingman)

"I wish soulmates were real."

"Hm?" Kita asks from the seat next to you; from the corner of your eye you see him look up from his book to you then track your line of sight to the canoodling classmates in the front of the room. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," you mumble and slowly sink down to the desk resting your head on your arms.

The silver fox gives you a cursory glance before going back to his book.

Your eyes follow Kita as he leaves you and Ojiro to finish your lunches and goes off to do who knows what.

You sigh.

"I think you should just tell him," Ojiro says between bites without looking at you.

A warm breeze wafts over campus, a gesture of fool's spring as if the universe wants to make a mockery of Aran's suggestions. You reply "absolutely not." Your hands grip the edge of the bench so tightly it feels like your knuckles are going to rip through. "You saw how many gifts and confessions he got on Valentine's Day."

Ojiro snorts. "You weren't even here for Valentine's Day. You skipped, remember?"

"Yeah and I'm glad I did. With people flocking to him even on the day after I'm glad I wasn't here to see it on the day-of."

"You think that was bad? You haven't heard what it was like for the second years."

"Absolute bedlam. I've heard." You exhale hotly through your nose. "But I don't care. The twins and Suna can have everyone's attention. I'd actually prefer it if they could draw even more attention than they already do...maybe it would make this easier."

"Make what easier?" Ojiro chuckles playfully. "Confessing?"

"Shuddup," you grumble, stifling a smile, and try to elbow him in the ribs; he dodges. "I'm just saying..." You sigh leaving the thought unfinished.

"You should've just become the manager when he asked," points Ojiro.

"I know," you growl in irritation at yourself. "I was just...scared."

"And now? With graduation just around the corner?"

"I'm terrified," you admit and scuff your shoes on the ground. "What if school's the only reason we're friends? What if we graduate and go our separate ways and never see or talk to each other again? What if he never wants anything to do with me?!"

"Uh...I don't know. Maybe try talking to him first before you freak out."

"Oh what do you know," you quip with a glance at him; the look on his face makes you double-take. "Wait...what do you know...Is there something you know?"

Ojiro's wide eyes flick to you before returning to his bento; he promptly shoves too much food into his mouth to answer.

"Oh my god...Ojiro...Did...did something happen on Valentine's day?" Your mind starts to race. "Did...did he accept someone's confession? Ohmygod, he did. Didn't he?! He accepted someone's confession and now...Now they're dating!" You clutch Ojiro's arm so tight he winces and struggles to pull away. "Aren't they! Kita's dating someone, isn't he? Isn't he!"

Ojiro finally twists his arm out of your claw and forces a lump of food down. "Could you not rip my arm off?" He huffs and shakes his head. "You're overthinking, again, before you know anything."

Holding back pure annoyance for the giant teddy bear you slowly exhale. "Then can you tell me what I don't know. Please."

He pushes the food around with his chopsticks clearly debating if he should say anything. "I...promised I wouldn't say."

"OH MY G--"

"Before you freak out again," he quickly cuts you off and pulls you back down to the bench as you had hopped to your feet. "Just give me a second to figure out what would be okay to tell you...." His brow furrows, eyes moving around like he's searching his brain before he looks at you again. "Kita..." He takes a deep breath. "Kita wasn't here on Valentine's Day either."

He braces for an explosive reaction but you've stayed still.

Eyes blinking intently you say "what?"

"Kita...wasn't here...on Valentine's Day," repeats Ojiro.

Light bulbs slowly turning on in your mind, your eyes slowly widen. "Kita...Kita was...Kita was sick?!" You go into overdrive again. "He was sick and I didn't know! And I was just at home moping around when he was suffering and probably didn't have anyone to take care of him because everyone else was preoccupied with their own lives and--" you take a dramatic, gasping inhale and Ojiro slaps a hand over your mouth forcing you to breathe through your nose.

"Kita wasn't sick," explains Ojiro like he's talking to a toddler. "He said he was...but he wasn't...He didn't..." Ojiro chooses his words carefully. "He...skipped...school."

The bell rings and Ojiro's forced to free you so he can quickly clean up his lunch; you're stuck in a state of confusion.

"Come on. We're gonna be late." He urges you up and back to class.

Ojiro keeps throwing you odd looks during class and by the increasing worry etched on his features, you do not look well.

At the end of the day he's not the only one who's noticed.

Kita gently says your name, a question, as the rest of the class is leaving. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm...not sure," you answer vaguely, unable to look at him. You miss the worried look he exchanges with Ojiro.

"Come on, let's get you some rest." Kita takes your bag and you follow him out without thinking, stuck in a fog.

Why would Kita skip school? Mister perfect, Mister no-gaps-Kita-Shinsuke, Mister what's-a-failing-grade, skip school?

The nurse's office is empty when you get there so Kita encourages you onto a cot himself and doesn't hesitate to pull a chair up next to you.

"You have to get to practice," you quietly offer, staring at the ceiling.

Kita calmly says "Aran will take care of them until I get there. This is more important right now."

"Okay." Still dazed and confused, exhausted from the roller coaster of your own emotions and comforted by Kita's soft and reassuring breaths you can feel sleep start lapping at your body.

"Can I ask you something?" Kita's voice promptly snaps you awake again. You gulp and nod. After a long moment, in a voice so quiet you can barely hear it, he asks "why do you wish soulmates were real?"

You're glad he already thinks you're not feeling well because you're sure the expression on your face would belie any composure you try to muster but he waits patiently, unpressuringly as you continue to stare at the ceiling.

"Because..." your voice is hoarse with nerves, "...I think I would just...I'd want...to know who's right for me...And who I'm right for...without the trial-and-error." The weight of self-doubt settles on your chest. "To know...with certainty...that there's a person out there who loves me for me...and I love back."

"You're a doubtful person," he states.

"To the core." You give a mirthless, dry laugh as your mind starts to compare you to the polished, proper boy--no, man--next to you. It makes sense...why you would have such strong feelings for the reliable captain.

And then it hits you.

The unlikely pairing you would be. How unlikely it would be that if soulmates did exist, that the two of you would belong together.

Kita remains quiet and, emboldened by the realization that the two of you would never--could never--happen you ask "why did you skip school last week?"

"Hm?" he asks though there's no way he didn't hear you.

"Why did you skip school last week? On Valentine's Day." You stare up resolutely, fists clenched under the blankets.

"Oh." He clears his throat. "I wanted to remove myself from any possible uncomfortable situations."

"Uncomfortable situations?" Really? Him? Skipping school because he didn't want to be uncomfortable?! You press for more. "Like what?"

From the corner of your eye you see him shift in his chair; the movement draws your attention and for the first time since you got in bed you look at him as he looks away.

"I...Didn't want to watch the person I like receive confessions," he stonily admits.

You give another dry laugh at the single similarity between you. "Well, I can understand that." He gives you a sideways, questioning look and you shrug. "I skipped for that same reason."

He turns back to you, brow furrowed in his adorable seriousness. "You skipped school? That was very irresponsible."

You laugh, a real one this time, and prop yourself up on an elbow. "You did the same thing."

"Doesn't matter." He shifts indignantly.

With a roll of your eyes you lay back down and quiet falls between you.

"Who was it?" Kita asks with all his usual assuredness.

"Hm?" You say though you definitely heard him.

"Who was it? That you were...unwilling to see receive confessions?"

Maybe it's the strange situation.

Maybe it's the strange day or what you learned at lunch.

Maybe it's the reminder that graduation's coming and your time is running out.

"You." The word slips from you like a spring bird and fills the room. "I like...you...Kita."

Instinctively you turn to look at him bracing for rejection in those steadfast brown eyes

but find none.

He's staring at you, eyes wide in disbelief, as he slowly blushes. He swallows thickly and his lips part in surprise leaving you speechless.

"I...I like you, too," he says quietly and something shifts. Something clicks into place, something lines up, indescribably pulled firm between you.

You can feel the deep affection welling up, tearing in the corner of your eyes as he slowly smiles and says "You don't have to wish soulmates were real..."

"You can't...you don't know..." you stutter in uncertainty.

He gently brushes your cheek, wiping away stray moisture, with a reassuring smile. "I can. And I do."

You're too overwhelmed to say anything.

"I promise you that I love you and you never have to doubt that." He leans in to rest his forehead on yours. "Foxes

mate for life."

[sanchooinc]

stfu this is so cute bye

EARLY PROMISE

gn!reader | 1.3k words, you see the ring iwaizumi wants to propose with a little (very) early

there’s a box behind shirts that iwaizumi no longer wears in his closet.

maybe that’s why you’ve never seen it before. you never would have, were you not given permission to look for clothes to donate while he went on a run.

it’s small, velvet, and inside there’s a ring that, any other day, you would have lingered to watch for as long as possible at a jewelry store.

but you’re not at the mall, nor are you currently being proposed to. you’re at home, standing alone while your stomach churn, and fingers tremble as you stare at the box in your palm where, right now, it decisively should not be. “fuck.”

“babe?”

the sound of the door and his keys accompany hajime’s voice from the entryway. if you listen closely, above your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you can hear him kick off his shoes—them hitting the step that he’s tripped on a few times after long nights with friends and drinks.

he shouldn’t be home yet.

you will your voice to work. “yeah?”

“you looking through the closet already?”

“...yeah?” there’s a questioning lilt at the end as your eyes scan around, his engagement ring—your engagement ring?—still in your hands.

and you know the pattern of hajime’s walk. you know his usual pace, how the floorboards creak as he walks down the hall toward your bedroom. he’s steady—slippers sometimes dragging across the wood if he’s tired, quiet in the morning when he thinks you’re still asleep.

today his footsteps come closer, a little faster, a little heavier than usual.

you assume it’s from the same nerves as yours.

“i forgot, there’s, uh, some shirts i’m keeping that i don’t want—”

hajime opens the door and spots you easily, standing in the middle of the closet as if you were the worst criminal alive, caught stealing in broad daylight.

you to see.

“to throw away,” he finishes, shoulders dropping. his voice quiets to a whisper, “shit.”

silence circles the both of you.

the velvet feels warm in your palm—much heavier than it was a moment ago. you wish you had an analogue clock in your room instead of hajime’s digital. maybe its ticking could take off some of the weight you feel at the sight of him standing a few feet away. maybe you could stare down its hands, listen to its rhythm, let it guide your breathing instead of standing with bated breath, chest unmoving while hajime’s rises as he catches his own.

seconds pass and you flounder, mouth opening and closing while you stand across from each other, neither sure who should speak first.

you don’t think this is how proposals are supposed to go.

your eyes flicker to the still open drawer to your right.

and you walk over, crouch to put the box where it was, pat the old obscure band t-shirt at the top of the pile in front of it, close the drawer, and go back to stand where you were, hands clenched into fists on your sides.

hajime blinks.

“did you really just put it back?” he asks, a little breathy as if he wants to laugh.

you look to the wall beside him then back at his face, as if you could be confused about his question. “...put what back?”

and this time, hajime really does laugh. and then he shakes his head, the way he does when you ask a silly question. “hon—”

“no, no, i’m not—you—that was—” you shake your head and frown. you wish his laughter would comfort you the way it always does, but you think you need to let guilt stay, gnaw for a little while longer. “this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

he tilts his head and smiles, just a little. “you’re telling me.”

“hajime.” you purse your lips. “i’m sorry. i feel like i just ruined whatever you were planning.”

hajime huffs and walks toward you, arms reaching out to hold yours. his hands are cool from the morning air, and goosebumps cover your skin as his touch runs from your elbows to your hands, where his fingers find their place in between yours. he’s looking down at them as he speaks—the ones that had held the box, to be specific. “it’s okay, it’s not your fault i forgot. plus i decided to run back a block instead of just texting or calling.”

“you panicked.”

“obviously.”

letting go of one hand, you lightly push his chest. but his hand follows, this time holding you to his heart. you give him a look. “i would’ve done the same thing if i was as fast as you. and i don’t know, i could’ve checked somewhere else. or closed my eyes. or wiped my memory.”

“you would’ve checked eventually, and closing your eyes is not effective for what you’re doing.”

“mind wipe would’ve been okay?”

“how would i have known?”

“...the mind wipe-y gun in my hand.”

he snorts. “what? it keeps a little history of your memory wipes?”

“i don’t know, maybe they have those. do you have one?”

“we’re getting off topic,” hajime chides, though there’s no real anger behind his lopsided smile and tilt of his head.

you sigh. there’s no average way of dealing with the topic of exposed proposal plans, so the best you can offer is a small, closed mouth smile of your own. “...you really wanna marry me?”

he reaches to squish your cheeks. “no, that’s for the other person i’ve been dating since high school and live with while you’re asleep.” you roll your eyes and clasp your hand over his.

“of course i wanna marry you. i’ve wanted to marry you for years,” he says with ease, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well,”—you fidget—“that’s good to know.” your reply is soft, and you will yourself to ignore the warmth that creeps up your neck and face. your eyes fall to where hajime’s thumb rubs the back of your hand, if only to avoid his gaze. “i...can i ask how you were thinking of proposing or is that weird? or maybe you shouldn’t tell me so you can still do it.”

he pauses.

you look at him. “hajime?”

he tenses at his name, sucking in his bottom lip before answering. “well, i was kind of leaving that part of the plan for later—”

“i didn’t even let you plan the proposal?”

“—but if you think about it,” he continues, already aware of how you’d react, “you just saved me a bunch of anxiety by implying you’d say yes.”

your mouth falls open, hands moving away from his. “i already knew i fucked up our engagement, but i really did fuck up our engagement.”

“you didn’t fuck up our engagement,” hajime breathes out your name as he moves to hold your shoulders.

your head falls forward, landing against his shoulder. “i fucked up our engagement so bad.”

your boyfriend, your sweet boyfriend who always seems to come out of situations calmer than you, snickers, and you hit his chest half-heartedly.

“why are you laughing, oh my god—”

“i’m not laughing—”

“shut the fuck up, you’re laughing—”

“i’m sorry—you just, you didn’t fuck anything up, okay?” his laughter quiets as his arms wrap around you. “i can still propose and keep it a surprise, and i’m pretty sure it’s better you found out while i wasn’t in the middle of the plan, yeah? we just…know your answer already which, seriously, is a relief, so stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.”

silence wraps around the both of you again—softer this time. an extra comfort intertwined with hajime’s voice and arms holding you.

moving away to look at him, you let out a deep breath. “okay, but i still feel bad.”

“babe—”

“as if you wouldn’t feel bad,” you retort, which your boyfriend responds to with nothing but a look that says you’re right. “is there anything i can do to make up for it?’

he hums and taps your hips, thumbs fitting perfectly against you. “promise to say yes when i actually propose?”

and this time it’s your turn to laugh, though it’s more a puff of air followed by rolling eyes and a kiss to his cheek. “i can probably promise that.”

little nia luvring comeback Bc my brain Sounds Like a garbage disposal + nails on a chalkboard And only these fictional characters r keeping me going. Hope u all thought of me for a moment the past 2/3 months

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @momoewn @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial

[sanchooinc]

cuteee

“Do you remember when your ex dumped you back in second year and you came over to my house crying?”

Hajime nearly combusts in your lap with how hot his face became, a deep flush of scarlet making its presence known. Poor thing had been scrolling on his phone with his head resting on your thighs, almost dozing off from the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair.

“First of all, I’d just like to let you know that I hated the way you started this conversation,” He scowls, emerald eyes flicking up to your curious face from his phone. “Secondly, what’s the point of your question?”

“Well I just realized that I never really knew why you two broke up, and I kinda want to know.”

Instantly, Hajime rolls his eyes before sitting up, his large hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know… does it matter? It was years ago, why do you think about them?”

“Well you know about my hookups!”

“Babe, we’ve all made out with Mattsun, I’ve told you it doesn’t count-“

“You all WHAT?”

“I thought that was common knowledge,” he shrugs. You blink at him, eyes wide before one brow quirks in confusion, “uhm. We’ll come back to that. Now, about that ex-“

“Please don’t make me say it,” he whines, resting his elbows on his knees and face burying in his hands. His ears are bright red, flushed to the point where you’re sure it’s hot to the touch, but when he responds like that, you’re almost determined to make him answer, no matter how much of a bully you’re being.

“Okay, you can’t respond like that and expect me not to be curious,” you snort, your arms tossing around his hunched frame. “C‘mon Haji,” you purr, nudging the bit of his cheek with your nose. “It’s just me, babe. You know you can tell me anything.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We’ve lived together for two years, you’ve come in the bathroom to floss you’re teeth while I’m pooping, you let me pop blackheads on your nose on facetime with your friends, but this is embarrassing?”

“Well it was, but now I’m questioning this entire situation.”

You roll your eyes, “you fucking love me.” Then, you smile and bounce on your haunches, “tell me! You can trust me! Besides, you already know I’m going to ask tooru anyways, so you may as well-”

“Jesus fuck, alright,” he growls, but his grumpiness quickly turns less threatening when your arms toss around his shoulders and you plant a kiss to his cheek. He gives you a sigh and rubs his eyes.

“So… my ex and I were each other’s like. First serious relationship,” he begins, and he absolutely hates how invested you already look. “I mean, we were together for nine months, it was the first time someone wanted to know me and not just to get closer to Tooru.”

The idea of that makes you pout slightly; in your own dating, you’d never had thought about people using him to get closer to Oikawa, you’d always known you wanted him. You nod and bring your hand up to card his thick locks, something he’d always found comfort in.

You also remember how heart broken you were when you'd seen and heard that they were together. How Hanamaki tried relentlessly to cheer you up, build you back up, and how guilty you felt for not being happy for your friend. You'd been there first to want him and not Tooru, but it was in vain.

Besides, you were together now; in your head, there's no reason why he should be nervous to tell you.

He angles his head into your touch, "and... and they were good to me! They trusted me and they appreciated all I would do, and at the end of the day, they were the ones who I always could turn to."

"Hey! You could've turned to me!"

"This isn't about you," he scolds playfully. "Anyways. They loved me until the end, and if I didn't ruin shit, we may have still been together."

"Yeah, that doesn't make me feel insecure at all," you grumble.

He furrows his brows, but it’s offset with a smirk, "if you'd let me talk and finish the story, you wouldn't have to feel insecure."

You stay quiet again. He rolls his eyes and pinches the brim of his nose, "then... do you remember Hanamaki's party for going into third year?"

"Yeah." It was a party you'd remembered being fine until Oikawa had to drive a sickened Hajime home, and you'd blown up his phone in worry. Hanamaki called you obsessive. You put a thumbtack in his sneaker.

"Right... so," he rubs the back of his neck nervously. "So we kinda... snuck away to be alone and use those stupid lovers affirmations and... and then things got touchy and kissy and-"

"Gagging."

"Interrupting again," he snips before composing himself again. Now, he's really starting to fidget, and you're starting to have an uneasy feeling about it. "And we started kissing and out hands started to wander and..." he pauses and looks at you, half expecting you to interrupt, but at the sight of you completely immersed, he grimaces.

“And… and they moaned my name… and then, when I was uhm… I was supposed to moan theirs…”

“Oh my god, did you moan Oikawa’s?” You gasp, already falling to a fit of laughter from your anxiety. It was a common joke in the group that Tooru and Hajime were secretly together but dated others so they wouldn’t seem suspicious, but to think it could be true caused you to absolutely cackle. “No wonder they dumped you!I can see it now! Just a soft little t-tooru-“

“Fuck off, I moaned your name, asshole.”

Your laughter stopped immediately, your face dropping to one of absolute surprise. The smugness that dripped from your tone now seems to reside in his, and he smirks softly as he crosses his arms.

“Not so funny now, is it?”

“You… you said my name?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. He adverts his gaze and tries to fight the blush splaying on his face, “I’ve wanted you since the beginning.”

“Why did you never like… try?”

“I thought you liked Oikawa.”

“Why would you think I like Oikawa!”

“You spent so much time with him!”

“Because I was too shy to be near you, stupid!”

The both of your chests heave at your confessions, before you break the silence with a few breathy giggles.

"Fuck, man," you chuckle, curling your frame into his side. "We truly were so dumb."

"You don't know how hard Oikawa tried to convince me to confess to you."

"Same!" You say, beaming. "I always told him there was no shot you would've had feelings for me."

He doesn't admit it, but you know Hajime had a similar experience with his friend. The silence falls much more comfortable than it had been before, and with your attention turned back to the TV, you flick your gaze back briefly when you feel Hajime reach for his phone. "Whatcha doin'?"

He smirks, "gonna text Oikawa that I just realized you had a crush on me in high school."

You snort, "you're evil. You trying to give him an aneurism?"

"Maybe."

You pause. Then you paw for your own phone to text the same victim.

Might as well make him bitter, together.

[sanchooinc]

USHIJIMA'S TWEET IM-

swipe left! smau - ♡︎sorry i couldn’t ruin your throat

suna rintarou x y/n l/n 

masterlist 

07 // 08 // 09

a/n: this might be one of my fav chapters -w-

funfact: growing up y/n always had semi by her side or someone so being alone now not knowing anyone made her stressed / she has a hard time making new friends

funfact 2: y/n genuinely forgot she moved to hyogo.

taglist: @02hhsailor @blana @heyheysey @elianetsantana @kritiiiii @dae-kirei @honeydrip @bbymilkbread @cece-lives-here @tsum-tsxmus @sbaepsae @shyroadloverslime @amberalisa @peteunderoos @definitelynotbianca @sunacity @omibaby @angrylittleriri @good-girlinhell @anngelllla @simpletype @todaysnotmyday @rintarhoes @volleybloop @sunaluver @ssuna @shioriaigasaki @erensmentalhealth @alienvarmint @witcherydotcom @babyshoyo @sickofyourbull @rint4rous @fi-chanwrites @wjsuna @pastel-babes @kellesvt @kathya420 @kiyobbie @vhskenma @tendous-choco-ice-cream @420-uwu @kaiagiorgi @kac-chowsballs @navymacaroons @icedberrytea @vicassa @kingkagss @mint-mai @its-babybitch

[sanchooinc]

😭😭❤️

– caramel frappucino | 22

marga’s notes. because no one deserves to be confronted just through texts ♡ i recommend y’all to listen to the songs below while reading cause… the feels!! + some of the lyrics fit in their story :((

♪ CHAPTER PLAYLIST ♪

tokyo by joseph & maia | i can’t make you love me covered by dave thomas junior | still feel it all by maro

previous | masterlist | next

Every chime of the small bell hanging by the café’s glass doors had your head snapping up, anxiety plastered on your face while doing so. Sweat kept on forming on your palms as time seemed to tick slower. I probably look like a fool looking at every new customer right now, you thought as you looked around the area, nervous that he might’ve already arrived and you just didn’t notice it yet. Too occupied with your unnecessary thoughts, you have failed to notice the figure making its way towards you, hands deep in the pocket of his denim jacket.

“You look like a mess,” his monotonous voice told you, chuckling by the end of his statement as you gasped and sat up straight, acting as normal as possible. Your somewhat sympathetic eyes followed his figure as he took a seat in front of you.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s still too early to break my heart, you know?” he joked although there was a stinging pain that passed in his heart as he said that… but you don’t have to know that, he thought.

The café was quiet; too quiet that as more seconds pass by, the faster your heart beats. If you were to be honest, you didn’t know where to start. You didn’t even know how you have gathered enough courage to meet him today. After what Tooru had told you last night, you hadn’t even slept a wink. You just couldn’t.

“Uhm… so… Tooru… uhh,” you stuttered, mind going blank as you tried to form your words that you have practiced so many times while you were in the bathroom, getting ready a while ago. What in the world are you doing, [y/n]? Speak! you internally screamed, already imagining yourself regretting your decision by the end of the day.

“I know. He told me that he told you,” he softly spoke, giving you a small smile of reassurance; just like what he’s been doing in the past years and with that, you felt your heart shatter as your thoughts flooded you once more.

How could you have not noticed it? Looking at him, you could see it now – the eyes that stared at you lovingly; the hand that twitches every now and then as it longed to touch you, or pull you close; the smile that held back so many feelings; and the heart that holds his love that was solely kept for you… how could you have not noticed it?

Keep reading