#isagi angst

[httpsitoshi]

softer, harder, in between . isagi yoichi ୨ৎ

summary: isagi's forced to make a decision– everything he needed, or everything he wanted.

genre: angst no comfort oops.. established relationship (at the start), reader is gender neutral but wears mascara (so that u can look like a real hot mess while crying!😆)

tw/cw: ANGST, lots of arguing and someone yells yikes, once more no happy ending sorry folks, isagi kinda ooc and insufferable here sorry... based on the song pushing it down and praying by lizzy mcalpine (listen to it while ur reading if ur brave)

Isagi's ambitions have crept into even the smallest crevices of his life.

From his way of words, the confident stride he took, to the way he acted.

You'd grown used to it, having given up on trying to put another excuse other than the fact that his ego was so clearly in the way of many things

You gave up trying to justify his late night practices, trying to understand the reasons why he's so deeply invested into something clearly crushing you both in the process.

His passion was everything, it was half of the backbone of his entire life

It was most of everything he knew in life, he'd given hours, days, and years into it. Given it friendships, his own time, his own sense of self.

You were the other half.

Because when the adrenaline wears off and the sweet boy that you know is beneath floats back up, you know he'll lean onto you once more and promise this would be forever

But you both know it's temporary.

You knew those sweet promises of a long lasting relationship were nothing but a careful tale weaved by Yoichi to not lose you, you weren't naïve.

Yet you still try to believe.

So even if the moment is fleeting, you let him hold onto you anyway, you let him come and go, like this relationship was just a god damn hotel.

But with the way things have unfolded these past few months, it's began chipping away at your patience, crack by crack.

Missed dates turned into missed calls, which became missed messages, to just entirely missed conversations.

You were losing him slowly, and you dont know if you have it in you to pull him back in. To selfishly ask him to give up that stupid dream of his

Then, it happens.

Your resolve breaks, if not completely shattering, when you see him on the television.

The living room you came home to was a mess of your own making, shoes thrown haphazardly, the outfit you were supposed to wear for this anniversary on the verge of being ripped at the seams.

Mascara smudged black along the trail your tears took down your cheeks, your vision blurry as you try to make him out in the TV through fogged irises

You were a ruined, ugly, and emotional mess. Sat down on the floor with shaking shoulders and barely choked out tears

He was on national TV, laughing so freely with a famous late night talk show host, making a passing joke about how football was everything to him

And you were starting to feel those words to a scarily real extent.

He'd promised you, wrapped his pinky around yours as if to emphasize the innocence and truth in his word, "I'll be there for our date baby, don't sweat it!"

You thought yourself a fool for even considering to trust him, to believe he'd really be a man of his word.

What didn't you have? Where did you fall behind against soccer that he'd prefer an interview for some good PR over you?

The clock hung up on the wall, the clock designed in the shape of a cat, hummed with an ominous tick. A piece of home that usually would've warmed your heart broke it more with every click.

You both bought it in mutual agreement, sifting through a run down thrift store when you first saw it. Your eyes gleaming in delight at the cute shape it took

"Yoi! Oh my gosh! We have to get it" You had squealed, holding it up infront of his face as he pushed it aside to get a better view of your face he loved "You're right.. we are SO gonna get it" Spoken absentmindedly, too enamoured by the way you practically glowed when basking in your joy

Now here you were, looking up at that clock, glaring deep into it's cartoonish eyes as if it were to blame for everything that had happened to you

Your eyes soften, not because of the clock, but from the memories it brought back to you. Memories that felt too far from your reach now.

Memories that felt less like something you'd experienced before, and more like looking into a gallery of someone else's making.

Because this Isagi, the one who gave too little and came too late. Would look like an idiot next to the Yoichi you loved so dearly

The lock only begins to twist hours later, the familiar jingle of the keys, his keys, usually bringing you a sense of relief only brought dread now

You hadn't bothered to clean up the clutter you've created, you let the destruction speak to him when he first steps inside. That tonight wasn't going to be like all the ones that came before it

Like the nights where you let him inside and let him walk away like it never mattered.

".. Sweetheart, are you okay?" He began carefully, steps quiet and slow, like you were some kind of fragile animal to tread around carefully.

It made you sick to your gut.

You hated pity, hated the feeling of being cooed at and coddled like your issues were something you could lull to sleep, you hated it with all your being. And now, you were feeling it from someone you loved with everything you had.

"Do I look okay to you?" You bite back, the air between you tense and uncomfortable, the silence between your responses all the more fueling the unease in both your chests

"I.." Yoichi trailed off, pausing right behind you, sat on the floor and hunched over nothing. The mess around you a clear statement of your distress "Is this.. about our anniversary? I told you baby– my schedule can get-"

"Yes, I know Yoichi! For god's sake I'm not dumb, your schedule can get busy unexpectedly, shut up!"

The room seems to close in on both of you after your words, the worries of the mess, the exhaustion that rested on his shoulders shaked off and forgotten

"Then why are you so mad?" Isagi huffed out, speaking with a tone that told you he really didn't understand the root of your anger at all, that maybe he didn't even understand you to begin with. "You.. you know my schedule isn't fixed, I'm an upcoming football player baby, I– I'm not working a 9 to 5."

You look at him with raised eyebrows and confusion, standing up to meet him at eye level as best as you could. "Why i'm mad?" you echoed back, as if to reflect back to him the absurdity of such question

"Oh, I don't know, maybe I'm mad because my own boyfriend stands me up everytime, even on our anniversary!" You yell, already feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up at your eyelids

"You– you don't even stay at home for more than a few hours, can you even call this place home anymore?" A careful hand reaches to your cheek, but you slap it away with no hesitation, you won't let him pull you back in one more time.

Isagi retracts his hand at your gesture, rubbing the sting in a soft caress before sighing "[name] listen please, I'm sorry, I really am. But this.. this career means alot to me. I had to be at that interview, I could get good attention on me from exposure like that baby"

"You don't have to understand it just.. can you accept it for a little longer?" He speaks up with a cracked voice, remaining so unaware of how you've already accepted it for far too long. "Please.. I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you sweetheart, I'll do anything, don't give up now."

The room is silent for a minute, Isagi looks at you with eyes that pleaded for one more chance, like you hadn't given him every drop of patience you had left.

"No, Isagi." You reply in finality, rubbing away harshly at the tears making their way down, trying to rid yourself of any signs of vulnerability.

"Im.. God damn it i'm tired, tired of waiting for you at home like i'm some.. dog!" You shrieked, tugging at your necklace, the necklace he gave you as a token of his love. It seemed more like a joke now.

You yank it off in desperation, snapping the chain and taking it off of you. Like you couldn't stand the sensation of something that bonded you together being wrapped prettily around your neck "I'm.. I'm not some woman you only visit when your training allows it! I'm.. i'm your girlfriend for God's sake!"

The hand you used to grasp the necklace in a chokehold threw it straight at Isagi's face, his reflexes weakened by the moment, letting the sharp metal slam right into his face.

His face winces back in pain after the initial hit, the beads making a soft clack against the floor

You grow calm after that outburst, looking down in disappointment, and just as he steps forward to see if he can still get to your heart. Your voice speaks

"Make your choice, now," His heart drops to his stomach at the sound of his surname, of the unfamiliar tone you took, a tone too cold, too devoid of the warmth he always found in you

"It's either me, or football Isagi."

The ultimatum leaves him speechless, hands clenched into a fist at how unfair this was to ask of him "[name] please you know I can't decide on something like that–"

"Give me an answer." You pushed through with it anyways, ignoring his protests and attempts to make peace with more promises. You needed stability, you needed to know that he could be there. He could be your Yoichi.

Your figure shakes, waiting with bated breath, your eyes gleaming with that innocent hope– that maybe he'd wake up and choose you. That maybe fate could work you just one miracle, only one, you begged. That was all you asked for.

He doesn't reply for a minute, and for those 60 seconds, you let yourself dream. That the universe can build you a way that brings you two closer, a way that didn't divide you both

"I.. I'm sorry.." Isagi began, softening his tone on purpose to try and make the blow any easier. "But you know.. I.. can't pick you."

That was it, that was the confirmation you needed, the words that proved your doubts true. Isagi.. didn't have enough room in his heart to not feel empty without football

A sob chokes out of you at his words, you turn to look away from him, from this stranger you strangely knew so intimately.

He stands there, drowning in shame as he simply stared at you breaking down. Neither of you ready to walk away just yet.

Because for all your love, you would never quite compare to his love for another direction.

a/n: THIS IS SO DOOKIE BUNS IM SORRY idk what happened i think my writing is degradint..!! sigh this just feels like angstslop rn im sorry

taglist: @dontlickmyfeetplz @cosmorainpuddle @owltrace

[me-kume]

Your ex-husband! Isagi Yoichi

ANGST, Isagi Yoichi x Fem!Reader

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, still keeps your old letters. In his half-empty apartment, amidst the clutter of forgotten odds and ends and the neatly arranged trophies gleaming with past victories, there’s a weathered box he’d never dare open in front of anyone. Inside are your letters, postcards, and napkins from that trendy downtown café where you used to scribble love confessions in your meticulous handwriting. In the quiet of his solitude, Yoichi leans against the cold wall, rereading them, each word a bittersweet dagger. These moments are unbearable, tearing at his soul with the sharp, heady ache of memories that no longer have a home.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, fears your indifference more than anything in the world. He’s addicted to your emotions, more desperately than any junkie chasing a high. Your anger, your bubbling laughter, even your exasperated grumbling—anything is better than the hollow, unfamiliar silence. He dreads the day you’ll look at him with apathy, your eyes empty of the fire he once knew. His jokes, painfully awkward and borderline absurd, are a frantic attempt to convince himself that you still see something in him—something more than a fleeting ghost of days long gone.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, remembers your habits like a sacred ritual. He knows how much you love your morning coffee—two sugars, a splash of low-fat cream. When he picks up your daughter for the weekend, he “forgets” a tin of freshly ground beans from that same café where you used to spend your evenings together. It’s a small indulgence for himself, a quiet way to say, I remember, to leave a trace of himself in your life, even if he’s no longer a part of it.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, teaches your daughter to dream the way he does. On a plush carpet strewn with toys, he sits cross-legged, spinning tales for her about believing in herself.

“Like Daddy in soccer,” he says, his voice warm and earnest. “You have to see the goal and run toward it, even if you’re scared.”

You linger by the wall, shoulder pressed against the corner, and catch yourself thinking that Yoichi isn’t just teaching her to dream—he’s teaching her to be as stubborn as he is, to chase what matters with relentless heart.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, whose touch still sparks a shiver. He can’t help himself—his cold fingers brush against your hand, lingering a moment too long, a silent echo of the days when you were his. He pulls back only when your daughter’s chatter fills the air, her plans for the day spilling out in a rush. His cheeks flush like a teenager’s, and his eyes betray everything he’s holding inside—yearning, regret, a flicker of hope.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, blames himself for every shadow in your gaze. He doesn’t say it, but he sees the way you sometimes freeze, staring into nothing, your mind adrift. It tears at him, the guilt a venomous blade sinking into his chest. He left, selfishly believing you’d be happier without him, but every sigh you let slip, every trace of exhaustion etched into your face, cuts deeper. The divorce was his sacrifice, but the silence and the bitter weight of guilt keep him from coming back.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, still wears the ring. You notice it by chance—a thin silver chain tucked beneath his shirt, the ring dangling like a secret. He doesn’t wear it on his finger anymore, but he can’t bring himself to let it go. If you ask why, he’ll avert his gaze, fumbling for an excuse. The truth is, that ring is his anchor, a reminder of the promise he made to stay by your side forever—a promise he couldn’t keep.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, has written a thousand unsent texts. His sleek phone is a graveyard of drafts: “Are you okay?” “I saw a sunset today and thought of you.” “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.” He writes them late at night, drunk or exhausted, when loneliness claws at him, but every time, he saves them to drafts, too afraid to press send.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, dreams of a second chance. He never says it out loud, but the hope simmers beneath the surface whenever you’re near—at a parent-teacher meeting, on the playground, or over a cup of cold tea in your kitchen. He imagines what could have been: you by his side, your daughter’s laughter filling the air, morning kisses that taste like forever. He doesn’t beg for forgiveness outright, but every gesture is a plea, a quiet prayer for a chance to start again.

Your ex-husband! Yoichi Isagi, still leaves space for you in his life. His Tokyo apartment is too big for one, and his heart, without you, is too empty. He doesn’t date, doesn’t seek replacements—because no one could ever take your place. After another visit with your daughter, he lingers at your door, catching the flicker of confusion in your eyes.

“You’re still important to me,” he says softly, his voice trembling with everything he’s left unsaid. “And if you ever want… I’ll come back.”

[bonzirella]

WRONG CONTACT, RIGHT PERSON chapter 10: dangerously yours

Includes: isagi x fem!reader pairing, angst (i'm on a roll with this and the itoshi rin stalker fic lawl), comfort, fluff WARNING: YANDERE!!

Your dorm room had never felt this small.

It wasn't like the four walls had actually shrunk—your apartment was a shoebox with one rattly window and a desk too small for your laptop and notes at the same time. But now, the wall pressed in on you all the same, like they were closing in just to crush you under the weight they were carrying. The air was thick and heavy, as if anticipating the moment you choke on it. The bed, your bed, was supposed to be a safe zone, but right now, it felt like a mousetrap. You felt like a small rodent being lured in by the false promise of comfort.

And to make matters worse, your brain refused to stop replaying what just happened.

He came inside me.

You threw your blanket off, sat up, and immediately laid back down. The thought shot inside your head for the hundredth time, etching itself into your brain like ink slowly spilling into folds and crevices.

He hasn't even asked me to be his girlfriend.

You rolled over, face-first into your pillow. The pillow (your savior) muffled the scream. The thought stuck, sharp as a broken glass.

Isagi Yoichi, your college's golden boy. Poster child for "kind and helpful puppy." Hotter in person than on all of the candid shots the school Instagram takes of him. The kind of boy who had crowds screaming his name, who single-handedly brought back interest in college football (soccer) globally, jerseys with his number flying off shelves, and an entire future stretching out in highlight reels before him.

And you.. you were.. what? Average student. Average face. Maybe slightly un-average. Average GPA. No goals or aspirations, college is just another thing on your checklist that everyone's pushed you towards. Just another girl in a sea of them.

So why the hell had he—

You sat up again, hands in your hair, tugging lightly at the roots because your brain wouldn't stop. What if he regrets it already? What if he laughs about me leaving with Reo? What if I'm just.. something he tried once? A warm-up game. A body to get his mind off of things. A practice shot before the real match with someone better, someone more successful and pretty.

The pillow didn't soften the scream this time. To make matters worse, you keep thinking about how you let him cum inside. What on Earth were you thinking? What if you get pregnant? You don't doubt that he would find some way to take care of the kid; he's an angel on this planet. But you can't do that to him. So you take a deep breath, try to fan away the tears in your eyes, suck up your ego, and make your way to your rager-loving roommate's door. Two knocks and she swings it open, arching a brow when looking at you, "You look a mess." She states, assessing you. Great. Just what you needed. "What's up? Need a drink? Or a blunt? I think you might need both." You glare at her before taking a deep breath. Your roommate is the god of the girls. She has everything anyone could ever need: condoms, tampons, pads, extra makeup, floss, birth control.. everything is just in her room for anyone to take during one of her ragers.

"Birth control," you whisper, "I need birth control." Her eyes fly wide and she does a double take, "You. You? Youuu? The girl that could barely look at a guy without blushing—? Oh my God—Wait—Who? Who was he??" She looks at you with gleaming eyes. You don't have the heart to tell her, so you bite your lip and let your eyes fill pathetically with tears, which gets her to stop. "Okay. You don't have to tell me anything. Wait here. I'll bring you some." She goes into her room, comes out with a morning after pill. You retreat to your room to take it.

A few hours later, you grab your phone, like it might have the answers. The screen glares at you, empty. No new texts. No notifications from him. Your chest squeezes. If he wanted me, wouldn't he have said something..?

You unlock your phone anyway, scrolling aimlessly through your messages, rereading his last text for the fifteenth time. It was nothing special—some comment about your project. But you twist it, pulling it apart for hidden meaning, hoping if you tilted it sideways you’d see some trace of care.

Nothing. Just Isagi being Isagi.

You curl back onto your side, pull your knees up, phone clutched to your chest like it might pulse with his name if you held it tightly enough.

But it didn’t buzz.

Of course it didn’t.

The silence left you with nothing but your thoughts. And your thoughts were the cruelest thing of all. You lay there, staring at the crack in the ceiling like it might open up and swallow you whole. But it didn’t. And the clock kept ticking, loud and cruel, reminding you that if you didn’t move, you’d miss lecture.

You groan. Roll onto your back. Stare at the ceiling some more. Your brain whispers, Maybe if you just skip…

But then you picture Mina barging into your room later, asking why you’d bailed, why you’d holed yourself up like some tragic heroine wasting away in a tower. The thought alone made you peel yourself off the mattress.

Your limbs felt heavy, like every muscle was fighting you. You dragged yourself to the closet, threw on clothes without looking, and stuffed your laptop into your bag.

One last glance at your phone. Still no text.

You shove it in your pocket, harder than necessary, like that might punish it for betraying you with silence.

The walk across campus was a blur—other students chatting, laughing, shoving earbuds in, while you move like a ghost, lost in the storm of your own head.

By the time you slip into the lecture hall, you were a minute late. Not enough for the professor to notice, but—

Your heart drops.

He was there.

Of course he was. Sitting two seats over, leaning back casually in his chair, hoodie half-zipped, as if he hadn’t just upended your entire world. His hair was messy in that careless, deliberate way, and when his eyes flicked up, just for a second, you swore your pulse flatlined.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t frown. He just looked. Like he’d been expecting you to show up. Like nothing had changed, and maybe for him, nothing had.

You slid into your seat, heart hammering. Kept your eyes locked on your laptop screen, even though you couldn’t focus on a single word of the lecture.

Because all you could think about was how close he was, how normal he looked, and how nothing about you felt normal anymore.

The lecture dragged on forever, though you couldn’t recall a single word of it. Your notes looked like hieroglyphics—half-formed phrases, doodles, and one big scrawl in the corner that read don’t look at him.

When the professor finally dismissed the class, you shoved your laptop into your bag like it had personally offended you.

But fate (or maybe some cruel god) wasn’t done with you yet.

“Don’t forget,” the professor called over the rustle of backpacks and shuffling chairs. “Lab projects are due next week. Partner up and get it done. No excuses.”

Your stomach sank. Right. The project. You risked a glance at Isagi. He was already looking at you. No hesitation. No question. Just the assumption that of course you’d be working together. And of course, he was right.

Which is how you ended up in one of the study rooms on the second floor of the library, a thick packet of data sheets between you, and tension so thick in the air it might as well have been its own third wheel.

“Hand me the notes,” he said, not looking up from the table.

“Maybe ask nicely,” you shot back before you could stop yourself.

His head tilted, brows knitting, “I… just did?”

“No, you didn’t. You barked at me.”

“I wasn’t barking, I was—” He cut himself off with a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Can you not start with me right now?”

“Oh, I’m starting with you?” You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “You always do this. Always assume you can just—order me around.”

“I don’t—” He sat up straighter, voice sharpening. “I don’t order you around. I just—”

“Command. Direct. Whatever synonym you want. Same difference.”

The table between you might as well have been a battlefield. His jaw tightened, eyes darkening the way they always did when he was seconds from snapping. And God help you, that look made your stomach flip.

Neither of you spoke for a beat. The silence wasn’t calm—it buzzed, electric and dangerous. Finally, he shoved the packet toward you, a little too hard. The papers slid across the table, stopping at your elbow.

“Fine. You do it,” he muttered.

“Oh, how generous,” you said dryly, picking up the sheets. Your pulse was loud in your ears, your hands a little too shaky as you flipped through them.

Every second felt unbearable. Him, sitting there across from you, thigh bouncing under the table, jaw ticking, like he was holding back something. And you, pretending not to notice, even though every nerve in your body screamed otherwise.

The silence stretched. Too long. Too loud. You could feel his eyes on you, steady, heavy, like he was holding back words the way you were holding back air.

Finally, Isagi spoke.

“Why’d you leave?”

Your pen stilled over the page. “…What?”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low but edged. “This morning. Reo’s. You were gone before I even—” He broke off, jaw tightening. “What was that about?”

You swallowed, eyes darting back to the paper like it might shield you. “I had class.”

“Bullshit.”

The word cracked through the air like a whip. You flinched. He didn’t.

“You didn’t even wait for me,” he pressed. “Not even a note. Nothing.”

“You make it sound like I ghosted you,” you snapped, finally meeting his gaze. The heat there nearly burned. “We’re not—we’re not together, Isagi. You don’t get to act like—”

His eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

“Like you own me.”

The words were out before you could bite them back. They landed between you like glass shattering. For a second, he just stared. Breath shallow, fists curling on the table.

“I don’t own you,” he said finally, voice rough. “But I’m not—fuck—” He broke off, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not nothing to you either. Right? Tell me I’m not.”

Your chest squeezed, because god, the desperation in his tone was worse than if he’d yelled. You forced yourself to look back at the paper. “This isn’t the time, Isagi. We have work to do.”

“The hell it isn’t,” he bit out, shoving back his chair so hard it screeched against the linoleum. You jumped, and then froze as he stood, moving around the table with deliberate steps, slow and certain, like he already knew you wouldn’t bolt. "Pretending this doesn’t matter. But it does. You know it does.”

Your throat was dry, your hand clenching around the pen like it could anchor you, “Yoichi—”

“Stop running,” he said, voice low, sharp. He didn’t sit back down. Instead, he stopped just in front of you. Close enough that his shadow fell over your notebook. Close enough that your heart stuttered like it wanted to punch through your ribs.

“You don’t get it,” you whispered, standing and glaring at him.

His voice dropped, “Then make me get it.”

The air was suffocating now. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hit him, scream at him, or just… fold into him and admit you were terrified. You take a step back, and he follows. His sharp gaze is on you, and you're rendered speechless at how someone as sweet and puppy-like as Isagi can turn into such a dark and brooding beast.

And before you could retreat out the classroom, he was there. Palm flat on the wall beside your head, leaning down until his face was inches from yours. His other hand braced the desk, trapping you between hard wood and harder muscle.

Your pulse spiked, heat climbing your neck as you lean back from him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What I should’ve done this morning,” he grunts out. His eyes burned, searching yours like he could carve the truth out of you if you just stopped lying long enough. “You keep pretending it didn’t happen. Pretending we didn’t happen.”

You snapped back, louder than you meant, “Because it shouldn’t have happened!”

The words hit him like a slap. His jaw clenched, his shoulders went rigid, but he didn’t back away. “Oh, that’s what you think? You think I don’t see it?” His voice dropped, raw, shaking with restraint. “That look in your eyes, like I’m going to get tired of you. Like you’re disposable. Do you have any idea how insane that makes me?” He chuckles.

“You don’t get it,” he whispered, and the darkness in his tone made your stomach flip. “I couldn’t walk away from you if I tried. You think you’re scared of me discarding you?” His mouth curved, humorless. “You should be more scared of the truth.”

Your throat closed, because the way he said it—like it physically hurt—cut deeper than you wanted it to.

Your throat bobbed. “The truth?”

His hand slammed against the wall beside your head. You flinched. “Do you know what I’d do?” His eyes glinted with something that made your stomach twist. “If anyone tried to take you… if you tried to run… I’d catch you. And I wouldn’t think twice. Break your legs if I had to. Make sure you stay with me. Forever. I’d make sure you regret it. I’d trap you with me. Bend you to me. Break anyone who even breathed your name wrong. And you’d learn—learn that no matter what, you’re mine. I’d carve my name into you, baby. So don't go around thinkin' that I don't want you, when you're the only fucking thing on my mind."

Your knees nearly buckled. This wasn’t the Isagi you knew, the puppy-eyed, sweet, helpful boy who smiled at your jokes. This was something darker. Something that made your skin crawl and your pulse hammer like it wanted to escape.

“And if I had to… if you ever tried to resist me…” His lips hovered near your ear, breath hot, voice almost a whisper, “…I’d make you beg. And I’d still take it. Everything. I’d break you so you’d only ever belong to me.”

You shivered, not from desire, not from excitement—but from the raw, suffocating intensity. The boy you’d laughed with in lectures and study sessions had vanished. This thing leaning into you, dark, relentless, obsessed… it made your chest tighten until you couldn’t breathe, and your hands were trembling at your sides.

Your breath hitched and you tried to muster up all your courage to yell, but it only came out as a harsh whisper, “Then stop cornering me like I’m the fucking ball you’re trying to score with!”

That snapped something in him. His teeth grit, and for a second you thought he might yell, really yell—

—but instead, he lunged.

Before you could protest, before you could even think, his arms were around you. He scooped you up effortlessly, along with your bag (his too) and jacket, holding you close. He made his way out into the halls, tucking you close to his chest. “Yoichi! Put me down!” you cried, wriggling and kicking, trying to make your panic visible to anyone around, but no one looked twice.

His grin was infuriating. Sweet. Innocent. The kind of grin that made everyone in the hallway smile back, oblivious to the fact that you were being carried against your will. And then it sank into your chest, heavy, twisting: he was so well-loved, so effortlessly trusted by everyone around him. You could never hope to escape this. Not him. Not his gravity. He manages to strike up a conversation with someone while you're squirming in his arms.

“Isagi, seriously—” you protested again, voice cracking, but he didn’t answer. Not with words. His gaze was calm, almost playful, as he walked past confused classmates and oblivious strangers.

The walk to his apartment was a blur. Your heart pounded, your stomach twisted, every step of his confident stride making you feel smaller, trapped, but alive in that way that scared you most.

Finally, he set you down on his bed. Soft sheets, warm, familiar-scented. They smell just like him. He didn’t leave. Instead, he crawled over you, hands bracing on either side, pinning you gently but firmly. Your pulse jumped. Your chest rose and fell too fast.

“I—” you tried to speak, panic rising, but your throat closed. Your tears started before you could stop them, silent streams running down your face.

Isagi freezes. For a moment, the shadowed, tense figure that had carried you here, the version of him that had almost lost himself in obsession… he was gone. Replaced by something entirely different.

“Hey, hey baby… what’s wrong?” he whispers, voice low, careful. He carefully holds you up and collects you into his arms.

You swallow, trying to steady your breathing. “I… I’m scared,” you admit, the words small, fragile.

Instantly, his chest tightens, guilt washing over him like a tide. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Shh…Sh.. Fuck. Baby, I'm sorry,” he murmured. Then another kiss to your cheek, one to your forehead, each one timed between his words, a promise and a plea all at once.

“I… I love you,” he whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke, “so much. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He kisses your jaw “It’s just…my bad desire… my bad, obsessive desire sometimes—” He pauses to kiss you again, “…but even when I think like that, I would never hurt you. Not if you don’t want it. Not ever. I'm sorry. I know it's hard to believe me. I'm sorry. You can hate me. But I can't let you go. I'm so sorry”

You blink against your tears, listening as he continues, “See? When I saw your tears just now, I-I stopped. That’s me keeping my promise. I-I swear I won't hurt you. I can’t—won’t—let anything happen to you that you don’t want, okay? Trust me, baby, trust me. I swear. I swear on my life, on my soul.. you're my everything, I mean it." His voice is trembling at this point, tears are pooling in his eyes.

He holds you closer, arms wrapping around you like the world could crumble outside and nothing else would matter, “I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll always try to be better for you.”

Your sobs slow, your trembling quiets, and he keeps holding you, letting the warmth of his body and the rhythm of his heartbeat reassure you. Slowly, the tension drains, replaced by something soft, safe, intimate.

You settle into his chest, his arms are warm in a way that feels so right. He rests his chin atop your head, fingers combing through your hair as you both relax.

When you feel calm enough, he reaches for the remote. “Studio Ghibli?” he asks, voice gentle. You nod, and soon, the flickering images of fantastical skies and sprawling forests filled the room.

You don't move from him. He doesn't move from you. And in the quiet glow of the TV, your head on his chest, bodies entwined, hearts linked, you drift off to sleep—tangled together with Isagi like you’d finally found a fragile, perfect peace.

taglist: @sapphireluv, @kiritokunuwu, @foz-eya, @van111a, @veverose413, @cherriee-ee, @leebyunghun-gf, @miauna, @nevvynev, @tenjikusstuff4, @obapooks, @princess-poolia, @mangourhearts, @ilovewonyo, @sei-rq

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a/n: AAAND that's a wrap! I think this is my first time doing an author's note for Wrong Contact, Right Person, haha. I've never taken on such a big task like a series and it was more taxing than I thought to update the chapters, even though I loved writing this story. Thank you to everyone who's supported this silly idea of mine through my account getting deleted and my horrible uploading schedule. I love you all. I just wanted to clarify that this chapter probably seems toxic.. and it sort of is. Isagi has been established as a creepy, yandere reader since the start. Does he become a bit extreme in this chapter? Yes. Not really. Sort of. Not anything crazier compared to what he's done before. It's just that reader (up until this chapter) isn't actively aware of his yandere-ness, but it's such a core part of his love for her that I think it's wholly unfair to not have a confrontation where she actually sees the fact that he's a little off the rails with his love for her. And I know it sounds cheesy af, especially the part where he's like, "I'll change for you" and I know it sounds toxic, but trust!! He'll change! This chapter was a little heavy, a little angsty, and I didn't initially mean to end it on this note. But this feels like the perfect place to end the story. It's sort of an open ending in the sense that we don't know if Isagi really improves, but reader seems fine with him, so I'm fine with ending it here. I know there's like 829382 plot holes in this story and ideas that I didn't end up following through on or fixing, and I know I'm going to look at this story in a month and hate it so much that I want to delete it, but that's a problem for future Vielle. Everyone's kind comments have really helped me finish this series, and at some point, I stopped caring about how many notes the series got and instead looked forward to the comments of the people I know have been supporting this since day 1. So, once again, thank you for reading this story and showing all your love and support for it. P.S. I'll probably make another series starting next month that will (hopefully) be much better than this.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

too busy being yours isagi yoichi x fem!reader

Synopsis: if you asked him if he regrets losing you, he'd answer it a little too late.

Tags and Theme: angst, drabble, based on Hozier's cover of Do I Wanna Know, yearning, regret, Isagi being not so good at relationships

Author's Notes: welcome to the angsty story born from Hozier's soft and wonderful cover of a slightly toxic and bitter song by Arctic Monkeys. I hope you enjoy. As always, reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated!

Photo cap from Jules et Jim (1962)

If you ask him what breathing is like, he'll tell you it's the first time he met her.

Because right now, he felt like he hadn't been breathing until he saw a glimpse of you, a year after losing you. He didn't expect to see you in the crowd, smiling at him when your eyes met for the first time in a long time. He thought he'd never see you again.

Your damn smile takes him back to the days when you two were still happy until you weren't.

It was a little too late for him to realize it. You were out the door, and he was a mess. As much as Isagi Yoichi was the most reliable, perceptive, and adaptable person on the field, crushing opponents with his tremendous skill and vision, he never brought those characteristics to a relationship. He was always a day late to an anniversary, an hour late for a restaurant reservation, a thought late before he spoke, and a step short of keeping you from leaving.

He always knew you were the one. You were so supportive of him, understanding, always there to listen when he recalled his games even if you saw the whole thing on the field, and so loving. He always thought you'd never run out of love with how you took care of him, lifted him when he overthought, held him as you sang him praises after every game, or even just did something as simple as opening a jar for you.

His heart always yearned for you after you left, just a phone call away from pouring his heart out after a tiring day, always just a text message away from asking where you were, always just there, so close. How could he lose you? You were the only one that held him together when the sport he's passionate about tore him apart as he moved to improve. How could he be so blind to how unhappy you were back then?

And now, here you were, smiling and singing praises again. He missed you so much that he held you, still sweaty and breathless from the game, asking you if you saw his goal and if you enjoyed the game, to which you answered yes. He wanted to ask if you missed him. He wanted to ask if he could try again with you. He wanted you back so bad. So when you pulled away, you smiled at him and said, "Isagi, this will be the last time you'll ever see me. I'm moving away."

"Goodbye, and I still love you... but that doesn't mean I want to try again."

And as always, he was too late as Isagi watched you walk out of the stadium and out of his life once again.

[fumiscripts]

✦ I'M NOT YOURS

✦ one shot ,, yoichi isagi x f!reader.

✦ content:: you— a corporate worker— suffer being head over heels for isagi yoichi— a pro soccer player.

for @shrii-kk, angst/hurt/no comfort, 603 words

additional: reader FUMBLES big time, author's first time writing angst w no happy ending, author does NOT have experience in romance, no beta we die like my motivation

You didn't know how. 

You just fell in love.

Isagi Yoichi is a very likeable person. So how could you not fall for him? He's kind, friendly, everything sweet. You witnessed it firsthand, knowing him since all the way back when both of you were children. You've been in each other's lives longer than you haven't, it's a type of friendship a lot of people want.

But that friendship is killing you. Being just friends is killing you.

You try and fail to get rid of these consuming feelings, knowing you can't have him. It'd be selfish of you, weighing him down when he's set on achieving his dreams. Would he, a professional soccer player, spare his time for a relationship with a forgettable nobody like you? He could do so much better.

How selfish of you, wishing he'd be yours.

You distanced yourself— to not fall harder than you already have— you know you can't have him. First, you stopped contacting him as often, and then you tried not to cling to him, tried not to hang onto his every word like it was your lifeline. It was difficult to let go, especially when he was your reason to keep going, your reason to live. But you had to do it. You can't keep being a burden. The weight of a relationship could hold him back.

Hours turned to days of no contact, to the point that you found your last conversation to be weeks ago. You could tell he was concerned. Each digital letter spelled it out. Alas, you brushed it off, saying you were busy. With his hectic schedule and you purposefully avoiding him, that connection that was tightly bound started to drift apart.

You ignored the heavy mix of feelings consuming you like wildfire. You needed to let him go.

The quest to distance yourself was successful.

It's been months, and you've convinced yourself that you got over him. You haven't interacted in a long while, so you shouldn't feel anything towards him, right?

So then why did your chest tighten at seeing those dark locks once again?

Isagi looked as surprised as you. After seasons of no contact, he was finally able to see you again— in an airport, walking across each other— the both of you were about to board on your flights to somewhere, a different location from the other. He called your name, it left nostalgic taste on his tongue.

You stared in silence. All the things you wanted to say, and all the things you shouldn't were stuck in your throat. So you settled for a simple nod of acknowledgement, forcing out a casual reply, one that held no trace of all the brewing emotions threatening to overflow within you. “How are you?” you asked, attempting to prompt a conversation for who knows what. Maybe you were desperate for some semblance of interaction, you hated that you missed him. You weren't supposed to.

He looks away, eyes flickering to somewhere else. “Haha, I'm doing fine. I got tournaments to win, games to play, planes to catch…” Isagi trails off, awkwardly fiddling with his hand. There, you spotted a glimpse of it— a golden jewelry adorning his ring finger— it caught the artificial lights of the bulbs above, and your gaze lingered onto it for a second longer than you'd like, the image burning into your mind.

It appears that the articles of him dating some big-shot star weren't just rumors. Hell, they were even engaged.

He's slipped through your fingers, and you let him go.

You weren't his. He wasn't yours.

(a/n):: mb for this writing slop ruejwhiw

taglist (ask to be added):: @tired-xyra-urstruly @fishii-writes @rini-rushed @rinitoshiplzdateme

@luzmilun @motchilyn

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[starreo]

thank god for you,

isagi.

cw: fear of failing, throwing up, anxiety

if it wasn't for you, i'd still be crying on my bed, wrinkling the sheets of my physics test paper. if it wasn't for you, i'd still be hurling at the sight of anything less than an A. if it wasn't for you, i'd still be sad, upset and frustrated. which is why, i thank god for you.

when the teacher calls out my name, telling me i've got a 70 in her subject, and i can smile genuinely while accepting the paper, i think of you.

i still remember that moment like it was yesterday.

it was six-thirty in the morning, i was scrambling through the papers, struggling to find the page with all the code words...if i couldn't find them...it'd be all over. there would be nothing left...i would fuck up the most important test of my life.

my overworked brain was starting to forget everything. all the important questions, the notes i'd made, the keywords...it was all gone!

i only realized how badly i was crying when suddenly i was struggling to breathe with teardrops falling down to the floor. my hands, still too busy opening the books, flipping the pages to at least find the sheet with the codewords. i can't mess this up, i'd promised my parents i'd do well...what about the teachers? what will they think of me...the other kids...they'd totally make fun of me...

no no no, this is all wrong! i've worked so hard...i've been so good...how could i mess up this bad...

i sat down in my seat, looking across the examination hall, everybody looked prepared...everybody except me...i was gonna fail...i was gonna be a failure...i was gonna disappoint everyone. and there it was again. the fear forming in my mind, made my stomach twist. feeling the sudden flush of saliva in my mouth, i jumped up from my seat, and ran out of the hall. desperately trying to look for a washroom, i ran in immediately when i saw the toilet sign. paying no mind to the blue walls, i rushed into an open stall, on my knees as i threw up. my hair, thankfully tied into a ponytail as my hands gripped the edge of my hoodie.

disgusting disgusting disgusting.

having emptied out everything, i finally pushed myself back. taking a second to breathe. "u-uh...are you alright...?" a boyish voice said...your voice. shocked when i realised i was in the boys' washroom, i immediately wiped my face and flushed the toilet, turning around to see you. you, standing there with a worried look on your face, a napkin already held out towards me, as you tried to say something.

i looked like such a mess. i smelled worse. and yet, you were so kind. giving me a gentle smile as you raised the napkin to my lips, cleaning the side of my mouth. "are you nervous about the exam too?" you whispered carefully, your genuinely soft eyes questioning mine.

i didn't say anything. i was too ashamed to. i didn't wanna admit it. but you still went on.

"it's okay if you are...we all have our good days and bad days. there have been times when i've been the king of the court and there have been times i wasn't able to even reach the ball on time. you don't always have to be perfect, y/n. you have to be human." you said, giving me a smile. a smile i would remember for the rest of my life. just like the words you said to me.

when the teacher calls out my name, telling me i've got a 70 in her subject, and i can smile genuinely while accepting the paper, i think of you. and i think of how i'm not perfect, because i am a human.

© starreo 2024. do not copy, translate or repost .

[khuzena]

My biggest 'what if'

Isagi, sae, rin, x g/n!reader (tried to make it g/n!reader?? but enjoy)

Warning: a little fluff, hurt little to no comfort, angst, break ups, cheating, (no happy ending typa beat)

Summary: their biggest what ifs from you and tje blue lock boys' relationship

Note: hello! I'm starting to get motivation to write again and i hope this fic is good enough

Itoshi Sae:

"What if he treated you better?"

His biggest 'what if' is what if he put more effort in your relationship.

He took your love for granted and now that it's gone he finds himself longing for it.

Every night he weeps in silence that even the birds cannot hear him, only the gods above listen to his cries. Begging for you to come back but he could never say it out loud. Not when his ego was as big as the world itself.

Sae tried so hard to keep the relationship.

But trying hard to keep a relationship wasn't just delivering fancy gifts on your doorstep or messaging you once a week.

Trying hard to keep a relationship wasn't just asking you how was your day and proceeding to ignore you while you frantically waited for his response.

He was trying.

But the hickey from a forgotten one night stand says otherwise.

—-

You stared at him with blank eyes, as empty as a black hole eating away every feeling that was once boiling in your heart.

The pain was too much to bear.

"Sae, why the fuck did you do that?", you whimpered defeatly, you no longer had the energy to fight him about this.

Not when you screamed from the top of your lungs a hundred times ago.

At this point you can't even expect much. Cancelled dates left and right, his stupid excuses and worst of all his shitty promises.

Sae promised to love you so, like how Gomez loves Morticia. Though you both were just another pathetic Blair and Chuck.

He sucked in his breath and stared right back at you, though all you could see is the same emptiness you feel.

The relationship so damaged you both have no hope for it.

But it's alright.

It's alright.

It's not.

He prefered to spend his time with other women though he usually denies, this time he didn't.

"I don't want to waste my time on you, so what?"

The air grew more tense and you were at your breaking point. Realizing that he both wasted your time and your effort for the relationship. You excused his behavior multiple times but now he's said it himself.

Your mouth was left agape from what he said, the hurt still stinging.

He tried to compose himself in the heat of the moment, he knew he was wrong and he accepted it.

"Then leave." He said coldly.

Those eyes, those fucking eyes.

He stared at you with those goddamn eyes, you remember that kind of glare. The glare he'd give when he's pissed to the core; when he's provoked.

But why is he mad? Didn't he want this?

A single tear trickled down your cheek, the tear carrying the weight of a heartbreak that weighed thousands.

Though you didn't falter.

Carrying your bags and a slam on his door without a single word escaping your lips was enough.

But it's alright.

It's alright.

It finally is.

Meanwhile the weight of you leaving hit hard on sae like a thousand bricks.

He asked himself for one more time, why didn't he beg you to stay?

Oh how he badly wanted to get on his knees and confess his sins begging for forgiveness. But his ego was too big, he was too ashamed to beg you to stay.

So he stares at the moon you told him you loved.

The moon always stayed despite the wounds from the meteorites scraping its surface.

You must've been the moon, he thought. But he didn't just scrape your heart, oh no. He burnt it all down until there was no love and sanity left.

Sae lets his mind wander off again, but this time it's all about you.

Why you weren't his future but just another 'what if'

—----

Isagi Yoichi

"What if he prioritized you more?"

He wonders often why he didn't prioritize you more.

Sure, football was always running rampant in his mind but he knew he could've spent time with you.

He was sweet, sweeter than the smell of fresh roses.

He wants you so much, too much he's starting to think his love for you might distract him.

He wants to think he still has a chance. So he doesn't hesitate to spoil with his hard-earned riches.

Yet, money doesn't save a relationship. He wants to think it does.

He's a smart one, always one step ahead so he's always known for a long time now this relationship won't last; but he wants to think it'll last.

Isagi had always loved you and it didn't waver, not once.

But he was terrible at showing that he did.

He loves you, he assures you he does.

But he'll always choose his career over you and he won't hesitate to push you out of his life just so he could still play football.

—----------

You two barely spent time with each other due to him pursuing his football career.

Every once in a while the lack of quality time would get to you.

Both itching to just see each other again, just to hold each other in your arms even for just a minute.

For now you two are lying in each other's arms. Surprising, considering your schedules that you both could never sync.

Though today's cuddling session was different. It wasn't soothing, more nerve-wracking.

The man in your arms was breathing erratically. Isagi knows this is the last time you'll hold him like this.

His grip on you was tight, not wanting to let you go. But you were barely holding on anymore.

Why should you try to keep this relationship when you can't even see each other for months? Why must you keep trying for something like this?

You two tried so hard to keep the relationship together but it never worked.

It crumbles every time, no matter how hard you put the pieces together like glass but it turns into dust every ticking of the clock.

Isagi could feel every tremble from your fragile body, the strength to fight for your relationship chipped away from the stress and bickering from 3 hours ago.

You both made an agreement that you would both no longer see each other anymore. That this would be the last time it was 'you and yoichi'

He's made it clear you were a distraction from his career. So why is he holding you so tight right now? Why is he holding you like you're fragile that you might slip away if he ever even let go of you for a second?

He's left you to pick up the pieces of your broken relationship but now he finds himself trying to stitch it all up on his own.

Isagi knows that tomorrow will be another bleak day.

Except this time he's longing for something he cast aside for the first time.

Isagi Yoichi is a man who's great at reading the field, probably at reading people too. Though this entire situation isn't something he can decipher like a game of football. It's a puzzle but each piece makes him lose progress.

Even in the cold and dark room where not even a speck of light could escape, he can still feel your gaze lingering on him but he's too ashamed to say anything.

He wants to say 'I love you' one last time, but he just cant.

No words needed to be said in this embrace, but one question stayed on his mind before he drifted to sleep.

What if he prioritized you as much as football?

Maybe then this embrace could last a lifetime and not a single night.

—------

Itoshi Rin

"What if he really loved you"

He knew this relationship was just a mistake.

He wanted to try something new.

Sometime after breaking up with you he starts thinking more about you.

Images of you clouding his thoughts every second, every minute and for god knows how long.

His love for you was temporary but the thoughts of you were permanent.

Sure, he was toxic and just wanted to try this whole relationship thing but the more he thinks about you all he feels is regret.

He thinks it's strange.

He's never even loved you properly but why does he feel like falling in love all over again?

Why does he feel like he's starting to feel butterflies in his stomach again yet he knows it only flickers for a second?

He was going insane. He doesn't love you, at least he thinks he does.

Not when he stays up all night stalking your wondering if you found someone new and better for you.

Though the relationship has been long dead so there's no point in starting again from day one.

—--

Rin found himself scrolling through images of you and him when you were still together right after a secured win in a football match.

His teammates were confused about why he's been zoning out lately.

As he sat straight on the bench, he felt a small tap on his shoulder.

A voice so loud it could wake up king Tutankhamun from the grave rang in his ears, "Yo Rin you good?", Bachira asked with a confused look while isagi and kunigami tail after him.

Rin scoffed, "None of your goddamn business."

The male stood up from his seat, grabbed the towel right next to him and walked off to the changing room.

'how strange' the three thought but were interrupted by a large crowd of interviewers bombarding them with questions.

Meanwhile rin stayed back at the changing room, still looking for that spark he felt when he first met you while still scrolling through old photos of you.

Again.

And again.

Again.

How lukewarm.

After he got back in the stadium his eyes darted towards you in the benches, cheering for another player.

There he felt that spark again in his heart that was once lost.

The irritated expression that was plastered on his face a while ago now softened.

The crowd might think he finally relaxed yet his heart was pounding so loudly, his eyes trying to avoid yours but he can't help but stare; he doesn't mind getting lost in those pretty eyes again.

But he knows you two are like parallel lines, always seeing each other from a distance yet your fates will never intersect. And if it did, it would burn both your souls from the draining thing you call a 'relationship'

Oh how he watched your eyes glimmer as the next round started, the same eyes that stared lovingly into him a long time ago.

If only he really loved you, maybe then he'd feel that spark in his heart again when he stared into your eyes.

Note: hope y'all enjoyed! This was sitting in my draft for a month and I don't have time to write anymore cos yk school ://// not proof read cos i need to sleep so sorry ♡

[asocialangel]

Hello !! I saw that your requests were open so I wanted to know how you think the bllk would react if their s/o asked for a break or a break up with them ?? Actually i read your work on it and it was very well written (hurts my heart ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ) so I was curious about that.

Anyway have a good day~~

“let’s break up” - how the bllk boys would react

Hello lovely ! Are you doing great ? Was my response quick enough ? Anyways, i wrote short fics instead of headcanons, i feel like they are more suited. But if you wish, I can write them in hc forms ! Specific characters can also be requested for a part two~  enjoy and don’t cry too much~~

Blue Lock angst: breaking up with Isagi Yoichi and Itoshi Rin

Isagi - swear words, toxic behaviors from both ends, no one is right\an example to follow tbh TT - 1,2k

It had been a while. That Isagi was ignoring you. Your hugs, your texts, the cooked meals you always put aside for him. You lifted your head and looked in front of you. It was so dark now it hurt your eyes. The afternoon had gone by in a blink of an eye. You had sat on the couch and next thing you know you’re on the floor, back against the living room rug, still crying. Everytime you dried up your tears, a few minutes of thinking were enough for them to start rolling down your cheeks again. Purposeful or not, did it even matter ? And you had rehashed thoughts and fake conversations so much by now, that you started convincing yourself he avoided you deliberately, to have fun and make you cry. 

The dim sky barely lit up the room, it was hard for you to distinguish the furniture around you. Everything was a grayish blue. Inside and outside. You and your surroundings. When you heard keys in the lock, you took a deep breath, eyes closed. The door creaked open. 

“Hey ba-” The voice that started talking with so much enthusiasm abruptly stopped. “Why’s it so dark ?” Without even warning, Isagi turned the switch on. Ow. It hurts your eyes so much. Yet you continue blankly staring at the coffee table. “Practice was so tough today. Hum, Y\N where are you ?”. You could feel him searching left and right for you. So used to it huh, you greeting him the second he arrives, a warm smile on your face, the table set behind you. There was a last time for everything, but none of you knew that yesterday was the one. “Oh well.” Quickly giving up, you heard his duffle bag hit the floor. He left everything as it was, heading for a shower. 

“I’m here.” Your expression still being as empty, not even looking in his direction, you got up. Your hand helping you lift your weight, you finally revealed yourself to him. From your peripheral vision, you could see his smile getting wider as he saw you. Not that you cared. You didn’t even bother to look at him when you pronounced that dreadful sentence: “We need to talk”.

“Do we ?” Isagi’s smile instantly dropped. But it made you furious. Instead of an apprehensive, concerned expression, he seemed annoyed. That bitch is gonna complain again right ? That’s probably what he was thinking. Couldn't he at least fake being scared for your relationship ? “Well i must. I’ll tell you something. Although I'm surprised you have nothing to tell me. Nothing’s been bothering you ? Everything alright, a-ok ? La vie en rose ?” You still didn't look at him, though you were walking in his direction, your eyes were empty. “What, does something seem wrong to you ? To me nothing h-” Ugh ! He was so ! Infuriating ! Why was he acting all cool, all unbothered, disdainful ? “Something ?! Something ?! Everything !”

You finally looked at him. Right in the eyes. You hadn't realized that anger had taken over your sadness. “How can you dare to pretend things are going right ? Have some respect, for me, and yourself !” “Okay okay, what will you whine about today ?” Isagi answered right away. “My fangirls ? How you wanna meet my friends ? The fact you’re convinced my parents dislike you ? Everything we’ve been through again and again.” He had an arrogant tone, almost laughing at you. “You always have something to bring up. I’m getting tired of your childish complaints”. 

Right where it hits the most. You scoffed. “Okay. Okay then. You’ll be so glad to hear what I've got to say”. You too started putting on a derisive expression. “At first I was sad. But now I'm thinking, how could you let yourself be treated this way, love ?” You were walking around the living room, in a theatrical way, gesturing to yourself and raising your eyebrows faking concern. “Isagi. You looked at him. I’m not gonna let you neglect me again, let alone pretend I'm the one who’s wrong. You and I… We’re over”. You looked at him almost satisfied. You-from-4-hours-ago would've never believed that, out of all the feelings you could have felt when asking to break up, amusement would have been the one.

And what you saw was even more delightful. Isagi’s expression turned from scoffy to utterly shocked. He did not see that coming. After all, to him, you had become someone who would just complain… Not actually take action. Little did he know everything he took for granted was going to disappear. As quickly as you would. Suddenly his whole world fell upon his feet.

You smiled, walking closer and closer to him. His sad expression.. It was almost fulfilling now. So taken aback, Isagi couldn't move, he only looked you in the eyes, full of despair. His eyebrows were wavering, his eyes were starting to get glossy from tears welling up, he tried to blink. You approached your face dangerously close to his. Your noses were almost touching, but you didn't budge though. You looked at him deep in the eyes, feeding on his pain. “Can you finally feel what I felt ?” Your tone was full of resolution. You stayed for a few seconds, just to pressure him, until you stepped back. You took each of his arms, and looked at his face again. “It’s okay. You’re a resilient boy, you’ll get through this”. You put on a fake pout, mocking compassion. “It’s not like I mattered much to you anyway, right ?”. 

You violently let go of him, shaking his arms with strength, your smile fading away. “Now go”. You walked right past him, took your keys, your bag and left. It was his apartment, and you still had some stuff left. After all, it’s not like you had planned to break him up today, he just brought it upon himself. The way you moved made it look like you were unaffected. You swiftly opened the door and exited. You walked with resoluteness, steady walking, chin up through the hallways, up until the elevator. 

On his side, it took Isagi a few seconds to register what had just happened. He was still standing there, blankly when you left, not even trying to get you back. So confused. Until it hit him. It hit him so hard. Tears started rolling down his cheeks uncontrollably as he fell to the ground. What had he done ? How did he allow himself to lose you ? The corny saying that you ‘only notice something when it’s gone’ finally had meaning. As he played in his head every little thing he was already missing from you, a crushing feeling of remorse dawned upon him. Finally, he realized everything he’d done wrong while going out with you, and to add to the burden he now bore, he finally saw that that’s what you had been complaining to him about. Everything you had said, you were right. 

Knees to the ground and hands shakily wiping off his tears, Isagi thought he’d never see the end of it. He wanted you back. Maybe if he called you, apologized, no, maybe if he, ugh it was in vain. He just wanted to tell you he’s sorry. But was he ? Maybe the two of you were not meant to be. He looked at his hands and got up, wiped his tears. Actually… you were wrong. He did everything right. But you were an ungrateful lucky lover. 

Obviously, it’d end up like this. You broke down crying in the elevator. How foolish were you, to think he’d be affected. Like it always happens, you were the one hurt, and he didn't question himself. If just once it could’ve been reversed. 

Rin - 1k2 words

Even though the lights were bright and the crowd was loud, it's like you weren't there. Everyone around you was keenly embroiled, but you could barely distinguish the players on the field. You had come to watch your boyfriend play, just like you’d watched every other game of his from this season. But this time, you couldn't force yourself to get into it. Your vision was blurry, you know, when you can't focus your eyes on something ? You see it happen from afar, you’d like to catch every detail of it, but your eyes just won’t let you. It happens when you’re tired, or when you don’t put in enough effort. You could not concentrate, too busy thinking.

You were sitting in the vip spot, all alone, unfilled seats surrounding you, an empty, almost sad, look on your face. You knew what would come after the match. And as boring as the game felt to you today -even though it wasn’t- you didn't want it to end. Because it finishing meant you also had to finish something. Something you had to say to Rin. He scores, smiles faintly and glances at your direction. 

But you weren’t looking at him anymore. When you watch him these days… You don’t feel anything anymore. If you could force yourself to do so, you would have already done it a while ago. Every candle you blow is accompanied by the same wish, to restore the feelings you once had for him. It would feel so much easier if you could continue on pretending. What’s wrong with you ? He’s the dream guy…

You stared into space, and suddenly your ears rang louder than before. You looked up to see that the match had ended. You take a deep breath, faintly smile as you know your boyfriend is looking at you, and get up. Time to face reality. As you make your way to the backstage to meet him, you start thinking. You still have that surreal, high on over-stimulation feel, but your thoughts start clearing up: this might be the worst time to do what you’re about to do. He had just won a match, almost single-handedly carrying his team, and his season was far from over. It would most likely break his spirit. But you just felt like being selfish… Once again. Feigning this much, you can't do it longer. There was nothing left anymore that made you want to stay, apart from the objectivity that Rin himself, is what anyone would wish for. Even that was obvious to you, but it wasn’t enough anymore. Nowadays looking at him is like looking at a dessert when you’re not hungry. You don’t even want it, it wouldn’t satisfy you. 

You feel the coldness of the metal stair rail you’re trailing your fingers on. It brings you to where you ought to go. “Y\N”. His voice is just as cold. You used to dig that, though. “I did good, didn’t I?” “You sure did”, you answer, looking at the floor. “Look Rin, there’s something I wanna tell you. I’m sorry for being brutal. I want us to break up”. 

The whole room paused. Oh yes, because at this point, I might as well do it in a room full of people. They were bound to find out anyway. Rin’s feeble smile totally faded. His mouth was even slightly opened from shock. “Le-let’s take this elsewhere”. Rin had put a serious face on and sharply grabbed your wrist, dragging you rather inconsiderately in the staircase. No one came here ever. The sound resonated so well, it was almost scary. If someone were to pass by, they would hear everything. “Why so sudden ?”

You were so ashamed. You frenziedly shook your hand off his grip, still looking at the floor. “I don't know. It’s been on my mind a while. It just took me some time to muster the courage”. Lies. “That’s odd. It’s selfish, but I wish you’d never told me”. Rin took his hand to your chin, raising your head up so you’d look him in the eyes. You tried to escape, and look left or right, but you felt emeralds piercing right through your eyes. You looked straight up. You were most definitely going to miss this perfect face. His cold hands and towering stature. “Tell me the truth now”. He commended and you obeyed, as always:

“I dont love you anymore”. You glossy lips rested pouty. It was almost criminal, saying this while staring at him dead in the eyes. He roughly let you go with a ‘tch’, making you lose your balance. “That’s it huh ?” His back was turned but you could feel the disappointment in his voice. Not sad, just let down by your lack of effort. He was right though, if you were to end it, you could’ve done it nicely. You didn't know what to do as he wasn't speaking anymore. “Are you okay with that ?” What stupid thing to say. You looked at him, waiting for an answer. “Okay. Let’s break up”. Rin finally turned to you. You felt your heart fall to your chest, so heavy. Why now ? You’d rehearsed this conversation over and over, you knew well you didn't have feelings for him anymore. So why is it hurting ? Why now ? Rin walked to what you thought was closer to you, but shifted before. He was going for the door. “Tomorrow, come pick up your stuff at my place. If you can’t, please text my maid, she’ll get it sent to your address”. You started feeling tears welling up and your throat itching. “Is that all ?” You got walking too, to reach Rin. 

Pushing Rin’s chest with both your hands, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier. But he barely budged. Your voice cracked: “Come on, react ! I don't know, throw a fit, cry, disrespect me, act like you care ! Grab my shoulders and shake me, shove me to the wall !” You were totally breaking down. Tears were now rolling down your flushed cheeks, your hands were shaking, rested on his chest. 

“Is that wrong for me, to love you so much I'll accept everything you do to me ?”. You looked up, surprised to hear him answer. “If you want to break up, I'll accept, because I'd do anything and everything for you. I love you like that ! I’m so hurt but I'm trying to keep it cool so you don’t regret your decision. If you came to realize how terrible you’re treating me right now, you would feel bad. Let me pretend I'm the bad guy so you walk away with a clean conscience.” His words sunk into you. “What, did you, on top of treating me like this, expect me to plead with you to stay, to change your mind ? I’m all yours, but I'm no beggar.”

Rin finally pushed you off him, looking down on you. “It’s over, goodbye”. The sound of his voice and the door shutting closed resonated in the staircase. It felt so alone. You stood there shaking from the cold and crying. It might be better like this.

A\N: ngl, these are borderline corny, ooc, and took me way too long to write TT. Next time i'll write HC maybe. Advices anyone ?! not rly proud of these.