Invitation to Mundane Life ♡︎

A Xiao and Kazuha connoisseur.

[jelly--doughnut]

When Leon Kennedy comes home after a difficult mission, all he wants to do is hold you. No matter where you are or what you are doing, he'll pick you up, take you to the nearest soft surface, and either curl himself around you, or just lie on top of you, taking comfort in your warmth as he quietly salvages all the broken pieces of himself.

This latest mission in particular, had been a bad one.

When Leon comes home you immediately know something is wrong. His stare is distant, almost dissociative. That handsome half-smile that he forces himself to wear when he greets you reveals far more pain than joy.

"I'm home," He says quietly, but his words are broken and empty.

You instantly realize that he's lost someone. He's hurting and riddled with a guilt so intense that you can practically see it loom over him like a shadow.

As Leon kicks off his boots, you sit up on the couch and place the book you were reading to the side.

"Leon," You softly call, beckoning him with open arms. "Come here."

He doesn't say a word. Instead Leon makes his way right towards you, the relieved gratitude in his eyes steals your breath away, wrapping it's fingers around your heart and squeezing.

He leans over you, his hands cupping your face just before he kisses you. When he lets you go, Leon lets out a heavy, trembling sigh and the two of you slowly sink down into the soft couch.

Leon is warm and so very heavy as he lays on top of you, but you hardly care. At this moment, all you want is to comfort him. To be the place where he can go to heal. To find himself again.

Leon's arms circle tighter around your waist when he feels your fingers gently comb through his hair. He whispers your name, so softly and so brokenly as he buries his face against your shoulder.

It's always hard to tell how long the two of you stay like this during these moments. Minutes, hours, days. Time becomes irrelevant in this space. Leon doesn't say anything else, and you don't ask him questions. All you do is rub his back and nuzzle against him, holding him with all the love in your heart as he mourns and weeps against your skin.

[unmillion]

꩜ — "when it comes to be 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 / I 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪"

Leon Kennedy is the type of man who has everything in order when he comes home. He may be a ticking time bomb of mental instability and constant liability, but his finances are most definitely in check— he’s prepared, prepared for when something happens and you might be left alone in the house that you swore he made a home. He knew when he met you that you were the one that he had been fighting for all these years, just waiting for the person who would make all of this worth it, who he was creating a safer world for. 

He never told you, but you were going to be on the deed to his house before he could manage to say I love you. Leon was a man of service, a man who noticed those little things— the small details of what hair products you ran out of first and the specific type of pasta you like. Everything written down, made known in writing for whoever would take up the mantle of caring for you when death eventually caught up to him. Your name was in his will before he could muster up the courage to ask you to marry him, still that shy twenty-one-year-old who only got to come out again when he was with you. 

Leon was the type of man who wanted to make sure you would be okay without him. After all, what was he thinking, falling in love in his line of work? Truly a madman. 

He wanted you to love again, a life without having to stress about groceries or car payments or anything that he could provide, even after death. Chris and Claire knew better than anyone, small reminders whenever he went on a mission that they needed to stop by from time to time, or the fact that he made sure you memorized their numbers before he left for months at a time. Every horror that he faced paid for a life that he wanted to give you, the white picket fence with a dog and children (if you wanted some, of course). Even if he didn’t make it back tonight, even if he never got to see your face again, Leon knew you would be okay. 

That's the only peace Leon Kennedy had at night, the thought lingering in the dark spaces he didn’t want to visit in the small amount of time he had to be surrounded by your light. The love of his life would be okay without him. 

when i tell you he came on screen as i was playing and i cried

[pinkfairycake]

If your okay with it re9 leon with an gn partner who's soooo touch starved but sooooo ridiculously bad at saying anything or asking for anything they just stare at him like their trying to blow him up with their mind till he does something

re9 leon kennedy x gn!reader fluff

1k words

a/n: thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy  ❤︎ . ݁ ˖ NOT FULLY EDITED

⊹˚. ♡

it’s early evening and the two of you have just finished up dinner, the windows open just enough to let in cool air. leon’s at the kitchen counter leaning against it, sleeves pushed up, finishing the last of his fourth coffee while scrolling through an article on his phone.

you’re sat at the table across from him, staring. again.

you’re trying to be subtle this time, resting your chin on your palm and pretending to be thinking very deeply, but your eyes keep drifting to him. you find yourself going back to his forearm every other second, watching how it flexes when he adjusts his grip on his mug. the way he shifts his weight when his leg gets tred. the way he looks so solid and warm and he's right there.

you want to be touching him. badly. but instead of doing anything normal like walking over and putting your hands on him, you just keep staring, secretly thinking 'if you can hear my thoughts, put down the phone and come over here.'

and of course, he doesn’t look up. this almost makes it worse, because despite not receiving your telepathic message, you know he knows.

after a moment, he takes a slow sip of his coffee and says, without lifting his gaze from his phone,

“…you need somethin’, sweetheart.” more of a statement than a genuine question really. you freeze, acting clueless.

“huh?”

he hums like he absolutely does not believe you, and finally glances up. there it is—that tiny, knowing half-smirk he does when he's entertained. he's sooo smug.

“c’mere,” he says casually, fingers gesturing you to get up like he’s asking you to pass the salt.

your heart jumps a little and you hesitate for half a second; you don’t want to look desperate. that’s when he raises a brow.

“come on.” he chuckles, rushing you out of your overthinking.

you stand and walk over, trying to move at a normal pace and not like you’ve been internally spiraling for the last ten minutes.

the second you’re within reach, his arm reaches out and his index finger hooks gently around your wrist, a small tug until you end up standing between his knees where he’s leaning against the counter. he sets his mug and phone face-down to the side and rests both hands on your hips like this was the obvious solution all along.

“hey,” he says, satisfied.

your shoulders drop instantly.

“hi.” you reply timidly. you didn’t even realize how tense you were until now, and leon notices that too. his thumbs start moving in slow, lazy circles against your hips.

“you were doin’ that thing again,” he adds.

“…what thing.”

“your little stare.”

you look away immediately and leon laughs softly under his breath.

“i wasn’t staring.”

“i'd say you were maybe one blink away from combusting.”

you make a small offended sound, but you don’t move away. if anything, you lean closer, and he lets you. of course he does.

his hands slide from your hips around to your lower back, pulling you in until your chest brushes his. he doesn’t move too fast, just rests his chin lightly on the top of your head. you sink into him, your arms instantly finding their way around his waist.

“there y'go. all y'had to do was ask.” he murmurs.

your face heats. “i can’t just ask for a hug.”

“why not.”

“that’s—” you flounder. “that’s too much.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you properly, a calm but inquisitive expression painting his face, wrinkles forming between his brows.

“too much for who?”

you don’t answer, and he shakes his head slightly, thumb brushing along your waist.

“fine, don't ask.”

you stay silent, growing confused on where he's going with this.

“if you wanna be held,” he says, he leans down and presses a slow kiss to your forehead, “just come here.”

your hands settle on his shirt, gripping it tightly, and his smirk softens into something quieter.

“okay?” he murmurs.

you mumble something unintelligible, but you nod at the same time.

he pulls you fully into him this time, one arm wrapping securely around your back while the other comes up to cradle the back of your head, and while you melt, he stands there like this is the most natural thing in the world. because to him, it is,

after a minute, he tilts his head slightly so his mouth is near your ear.

“and by the way,” he says, tone lazy, almost playful, “i can't read your mind.”

“i know—”

“right.”

his fingers squeeze gently at your waist.

“just say my name. i'd drop everything for you, you know that.”

“but... it's hard.”

“why?”

“i don't know... i don't wanna ask you for too much.”

your problem really is that simple. you love leon's touch, especially when he's gentle (which he always is with you). but for some reason, there's a little voice in your head whenever you feel like you need a hug or a kiss or something, and it tells you that leon would either “be too busy” or “wouldn't want to hug you right now”.

but leon knows you. he knows the look you get. he knows the tiny degrees of change in your posture when you’re craving touch but don’t want to admit it. and he doesn’t think it’s too much.

if anything, he finds it endearing. leon is hungrier touch than you'd assume, but he's more confident about it. more forward. he knows what he wants and how to get it. as a result, you both want the same thing.

“you’re allowed to ask me for anything you want,” he adds casually, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world. “s'kinda my job.”

you look up at him at that.

“your job?”

“yeah.”

he shrugs faintly.

“if i'm gonna retire, gotta stay useful somehow.”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, and he smiles a little wider at that, satisfied with himself. he pulls you even closer, arms tightening just slightly.

pressing another soft kiss to your temple, he murmurs, “and i like when you need me.”

this time there’s no edge, no cockiness, just, like, of course he’s going to hold you. course he’s not going anywhere.

so next time, you probably still won’t say anything. you’ll just stare at him again, and he’ll sigh, shake his head, and open his arms before you even have to ask.

[maruren]

≽/ᐠ˵ -ܫ•˵マ≼ ฅ 𝑴𝒆𝒐𝒘 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

[chwrrylace]

─── ❝ NIRVANA ❞

SUMMARY ; Phainon and Mydei finally embrace their long-denied feelings, sealing years of longing with a single, undeniable kiss

PHAINON & MYDEI x fem!reader. (separate)

CONTENT ; mutual pinning, kissing, idk

WORD COUNT ; 🤷‍♀️

A/N ; potential ooc since its my first time writing for them

── .✦ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐍

𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 shifting lights, its skyline painted in the gentle glow of bioluminescent flora and neon-drenched pathways. The distant hum of life, muted laughter, and the quiet ripple of water beneath floating platforms created a symphony of serenity—one Phainon had never taken the time to appreciate until now.

Tonight, the stars felt closer than ever.

“You shouldn’t linger alone,” a voice murmured, warm despite its caution. The familiar timbre sent a shiver down Phainon’s spine before they even turned to meet your gaze.

“You found me,” Phainon said, a ghost of a smile playing at their lips. “Of course you did.”

You exhaled softly, stepping closer. The glow of the city reflected in Phainon’s azure eyes, casting them in an almost ethereal light. The two of you had danced around this moment for longer than either of you dared to admit. Conversations stretched just a little too long, gazes lingering beyond what could be dismissed as casual, touches that felt like promises neither of you had yet dared to keep.

“I always find you,” you admitted. “No matter how far you run.”

Phainon chuckled, though there was something wistful in the sound. “And yet, I wonder—do you truly know what you seek?”

The air between you was charged, electric with unspoken words and stolen glances. You had spent years circling each other, bound by duty, by circumstance, by the cruel joke of time itself. Always close, never enough. Until now.

“I do,” you said, with the kind of certainty that left no room for doubt. “Do you?”

Phainon hesitated. Not out of uncertainty—but because they had known their answer long before tonight. Before Amphoreus, before the stars bore witness to your inevitable gravity.

They reached for you then, hesitant fingers brushing against yours. A silent question. A quiet surrender. You answered by closing the distance, letting your foreheads touch in a moment that felt more intimate than anything else ever could.

The city pulsed around you, yet in this moment, the universe had never been quieter.

“You don’t have to run anymore,” you whispered.

Phainon let out a breath, one they hadn’t realized they had been holding for what felt like a lifetime. Their fingers tightened around yours, an unspoken promise taking shape in the space between heartbeats.

“I know.”

And when they finally closed the distance between you, it wasn’t just a kiss.

It was the silence between heartbeats, the space where everything else faded.

── .✦ 𝐌𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐈

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐒 flickered like distant stars, their golden glow casting soft ripples over the tranquil waters below. Mydei stood at the edge of the city’s elevated walkways, the hum of civilization a quiet murmur beneath the steady beat of his heart. He had always found solace in the night, in the spaces where silence spoke louder than words.

“You always disappear when the celebrations begin.”

Your voice reached him before you did, familiar, grounding. Mydei didn’t turn immediately, letting the words settle in the air between you like an unfinished melody. Then, slowly, he glanced over his shoulder, and there you were—bathed in the warm glow of the lanterns, looking at him the way you always had. As if you saw him, truly.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “And yet, you always find me.”

You stepped closer, careful but unrelenting, as though you knew this moment had been waiting for far too long. The weight of unspoken confessions lingered in the space between you, in the fleeting touches and sidelong glances you had exchanged across years of companionship, of battles fought side by side, of emotions too tangled to name.

“You don’t have to keep running,” you murmured. “Not from me.”

Mydei’s fingers curled at his sides, his pulse a steady rhythm against the chaos of what he felt. For so long, he had kept himself at a distance, believing that some things—some feelings—were too dangerous to claim. But you had never wavered, had never once stopped reaching for him even when he made it impossible.

And now, here you were. Still reaching.

A slow exhale left his lips. “I know.”

Then, tentatively, he lifted a hand—brushing against yours, the simplest touch igniting something deep, something inevitable. The city’s glow reflected in his golden eyes as he met your gaze, steady and unguarded for the first time.

“You’ve always known, haven’t you?” he whispered, a hint of amusement threading through his voice.

You smiled. “I have.”

The distance between you disappeared, and when your lips finally met, it wasn’t just an answer.

It was everything that can never be exchanged with words.

© chwrrylace — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[myderis]

mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.3k

"Phainon told me you talk about me when you sleep." What was supposed to be a casual hangout between close friends instantly became the moment MYDEI regretted ever knowing you. Irritation colored his face, maybe anger too. Oh, is this expression of someone being in denial? "That's adorable," you added with a teasing grin.  

"Enjoy his company while you can. It’ll be the last time you hear anything from him." Leaning closer and resting your head against his shoulder. "You didn't deny it." A mistake. He shoved you off—hard. You tumbled from the rock you were sitting on, landing not so gracefully on the ground below.  

"You believe anything he tells you," Mydei muttered, refusing to meet your gaze. You, however, couldn’t look away from him. The great Mydeimos—The Undying, the fearless lion of Kremons. Yet, all you saw was a cornered kitten.  

Pushing yourself up, you stepped toward him. He tensed as you gently cupped his face, your touch careful, deliberate. His hands twitched at his sides, ready to shove you away again, but this time, he didn’t.  

"Even though you're so mean to me," you murmured, your voice impossibly soft, as you take a better look at him. Those honeyed eyes, trying to lie to you, but the eyes are the key to the soul. "I know you love me." His lips parted, but no words came out.

"You’re wrong." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Am I?" You smiled, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. He wanted to protest, to deny, as he always did but silence greeted you instead, his stubbornness will be the death of him.

Even now, as his body betrayed him by staying still beneath your touch, his pride wouldn't let him admit it. Mydei did what he always did when the battle turned against him—he changed the rules.

Before you could react, his arms were on your waist, and a startled gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder. You had entered the lion's den. This was his territory. And it was dangerous.

“Don’t start games you can't win.” But you don’t worry about that. The game was won long ago. He just needs to acknowledge the fact that he lost.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[myderis]

mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.4k

The crowned prince of Kremnos 'MYDEIMOS' and also the warrior of Okhema 'Mydei’, or ‘Dried pomegranate’ as you like to call him is an undying pain in the ass.

“Do you ever think before you do anything, Princess?” he asks mockingly, once again wielding your title like a weapon while you’re draped over his shoulder as if you are the lightest thing in the world, completely at his mercy as he walks away from the remains of dead Titankins. To him, this is another mindless warm-up as he saves you from trouble almost daily. “Oh, I am so wholeheartedly sorry… Apparently, I can’t go for a walk without my hero,” you retort, that sweet voice dripped with sarcasm and arrogance but he only smirks, further fueling your annoyance.

When you both arrive at the Okhema bathhouse, you’re greeted by Aglaea, Tribbie, and Phainon. The three of them stop dead in their tracks, surprise flashing across their faces as they take in the sight of you still perched indignantly over Mydei’s shoulder. Normally, you and he can’t stand to be in the same room together, or at least that’s the lie you both cling to. Despite your constant bickering, they’ve noticed the threads that bind you. Quite literally, in Aglaea’s case. Though blind, she can sense the golden strings connecting your hearts and just then Tribbie grins. 

“You two should marry already!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together when Phainon chuckles in agreement. “She’s not wrong. Someone needs to keep him grounded,”

“What!? Us? Married?” you stammer, turning your head just enough to glare at the divine heroes, still hanging awkwardly over Mydei’s shoulder. Your cheeks burn as your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest. Mydei, as usual, handles the situation with his signature exasperation and denial. “Don’t be absurd, Deliverer. Even a god driven mad wouldn’t suggest something so ridiculous,”

Lady Aglae clears her throat, ushering Tribbie and Phainon away to attend to other matters, leaving the two of you alone with the silence that makes you question your life choices. You can feel Mydei’s grip tighten before, without any warning, unceremoniously dumps you into the steaming bath. Letting out a scream as water splashes everywhere. Hair soaked, you feel it cling to your face, obstructing your view until his fingers brush it aside.

For a moment, his fiery and intense gaze softens and you swear you can see your reflection in his eyes as both of your faces lean closer and closer, your chest tightens, and your breath hitches, until … “On second thought,” he murmurs leaning back into the water with that same smirk, “I wouldn’t mind spending all my life with you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and for once, you're at a loss for words.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[osamoved]

thoughts about parts of hsr men's bodies, and how they react to your attention on them (mostly cute, not quite nsfw)

Just sum thots I wanted to get down n share, perchance with some like-minded individualss. I sort of yap when I write, not written in perfect grammar or prose. Maybe spoilers for 3.0. no gender, not nsfw, but suggestions splatted about ♡

Aventurine, Sunday, Phainon, Mydei

Aventurine

His hands, fingers, the whole lot. They're so dextrous and slender and nimble, probably from playfully flicking chips between his fingers as a taunt to those at the table. The way the chips twirl between them effortlessly has you often watching in a momentary trance. You sort of chide yourself internally when your thoughts start to drift at how they move, how *able* they are, and the implications of such...

You know he pays a lot of attention to his appearance, so his nails are always seemingly perfect, softly rounded at the edges, clean. It's to an extent that seems kind of impossible, as you find yourself captivated by them when you play with his fingers as you sit together. They're just...pretty. "You got a thing for hands, or is it just me?" He teases, a little smirk tickling the edge of his lips as his eyes glint with that familiar spark of mischief. He's always playing it off, of course, but he can't deny the little flutter he feels in his chest when you kinda admire him like that. There's something different about the way you do it, makes him feel special and wanted. Which the boy deserves in bounds.

Plus he looooves touching you with them. He's just a sort of handsy person, but in a cheeky-reverent kind of way, especially once he notices your attention on them. He'll fiddle purposefully, that frustrating smirk on his mouth, he'll run his fingers over your skin gently, pinching and squeezing here and there, and trace your bottom lip with his thumb when he's got you a bit flustered.

Sunday

For Sunday my first thought was his head-wings, of course, but that would be boring since everyone talks about the way the lil things flutter and fluff up, so we're going for his hair.

Now, Sunday obviously paid attention to his appearance as the Bronze Melodia, and all of his positions. He had to look the part, after all, and his tendency for control seeped into this aspect of his life too. But I like to think he never really saw his hair as anything but a sort of tool, something on him to be viewed and consumed by other people, just as a lot of his life was. (Thinking about Sunday makes me so sad aaa). He looked after it, liked it, but didn't see the utility or pleasure of it outside of that use much.

But when he fell with broken wings, and ended up in the strangely soft and uncomfy-comfy laps of the astral express crew, and others, like you, he, along with other things, started to realise the pleasure and softness that could come from his hair. For instance, along with his wings, if you touch his hair, he's a goner. He's just so...sensitive, and it sends little shivers down his whole body, to where he's almost made docile and incoherent. His brain short circuits a little and he becomes like when you touch a shark on that part of their body where they just become all floppy.

He doesn't even have the energy to be self conscious about it much when you're lacing your fingers through the grey strands, and if he does he'll blush a bit, cutely, and avert his eyes almost grumpily as he just shifts in your lap so his face doesn't have to meet your gaze. Plus, he finds it's one of the only time his yappy brain quiets a little, the sensations like a soothing silk wrapping around the thoughts and making them a bit less intrusive. Basically he's cute as hell, it hurts my soul.

Phainon

Okay, so, I'm gonna go with the expected here but HEAR ME OUT. His eyes are so expressive, even ignoring how intensely blue they are to the point it feels as though a droplet of the sky had just plopped into their depths one day and decided to take up residence hello Satoru ♡.

They're always moving slightly, narrowing a touch when thinking along with that slight pout of his mouth, widening with a gentle spark when he gets an idea or sees something he finds cool (imagine him like...seeing a stupid meme and showing mydei, and mydei just like -_-). When his face lights up, eyes catching that spark of excitement, it's just so sweet and beautiful. You find yourself desperate to keep seeing that light flicker in his eyes, finding things that make him light up.

Then there's when they soften. Usually when he's looking at you. Or mydei stop. He'll be talking or into something and then turn to look at you half way through, his eyes instantly softening ever so slightly. It's enough to make your heart flutter, just that. It's pathetic really, but that's what this puppy will do to you.

If you ever comment on them he'll chuckle a little, maybe bring his hand to his nape, the classic, looking around like 'really? hehe'. He takes the compliment and thinks about it a bit during the day at intervals, feeling warmer inside.

ALSO WHEN HE TILTS HIS HEAD SUBTLY WHEN CONFUSED LIKE A PUPPY OKAY BYE

Mydei

Mydei is hard because (get your mind out of the gutter) I feel like he would be so enthralled and slightly confused by all of your touch, since he hasn't felt much soft and tender affection in his whole damn life. So let's go with his skin, namely, tracing soft and idle patterns on it, anywhere really.

I'm picturing it starting with like...you just idly drawing circles or swirls on his arm or hand while you're relaxing, maybe before sleeping, just at some point. It didn't even really cross your mind that you were doing it, it was just natural. But this man had his eyes locked onto your fingers as they moved, eyeing the movements and taking note of the sensations almost with suspicion, like -what the hell is this and why do I like it-. Basically bro is shook, it's cute.

You'll catch him staring and be like ?? And he'll get a touch embarrassed, try to play it off a bit, grunt and look away a little, but after a bit he'll admit it feels kinda nice and you couldddd do it more if you wanted to. He wouldn't mind. Yknow. And he'll end up enjoying it a lot, anywhere you do it, letting you trace his skin more purposefully, the muscles rippling underneath it, his tattoos. He finds his muscles relax under your touch as if you're weaving some of Aglaea's golden thread over them, soothing them more than he's really felt before. And he'll give you a bit of a grumpy cat face when you stop, like...excuse me what? Keep going???

Anyway kinda thinking about doing more now but like, their reactions to each of these things individually, like playing with their hair or hands. Brainrot. Anyway make sure u ate something today or I'll haunt your dreams bye.

[myderis]

mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.2k

The crown prince of Castrum Kremnos, the undying MYDEIMOS, once a force of fury, a god-like weapon forged to kill gods, now sits here, his sharp claws dulled by love. He has walked through madness, bathed in the blood of countless battles, his path carved by violence and despair. But not today he is not Mydeimos the warrior. He is simply Mydei your prince, your soulmate, your everything.

His hands, hardened from wielding swords and tearing through enemies, are unexpectedly tender as they caress your hair. The roughened pads of his fingers brush against your cheek with care, as though you might shatter beneath his touch. His lap cradles your head, and as he gazes down at you, your peaceful breath softens the jagged edges of his soul. You are on the verge of sleep, your trust in him so absolute it feels 

How is this moment real? He wonders this endlessly. How can someone like him, who has known only rage and ruin be gifted something so fragile, so perfect? His chest tightens, not with pain but with something less cold, something so consuming and warm that cannot be put into words. 

He cannot say what you mean to him, but his actions speak louder than anything he could ever voice. His gaze, the way it lingers on you as if memorizing every detail. The way his hands, so capable of destruction, now exist only to hold you. The way his lips press softly to your forehead, a silent vow that he would tear the world apart to keep you safe. 

Mydei the one who loves you beyond reason, beyond words, beyond anything the gods themselves could fathom. And in your presence, he is no longer a weapon—he is your lover.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[myderis]

phainon 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.5k

"Quick, hide me!" you were in a total panic running to PHAINON using him like a human shield as your hands found a place on his back, gently tugging his cape. Although he didn't have time to react, he knew you were in big trouble if you were looking for him. "What is it this time, my lady? You stole another scroll, rode a droma unsupervised, scammed someone, or—?"

"Where is she?" you panicked even more hearing the voice of none other than Mydei and his footsteps that could tear the ground apart, and maybe even your dignity. "Where's who?" Phainon's calm voice carried just enough to sound believable. He didn’t flinch as the prince’s towering frame loomed closer, his eyes blazing like twin suns. The Deliverer shrugged slightly, ensuring his broad frame blocked you from sight as you pressed closer to his back, your heart pounding like a war drum.

"You know exactly who I’m talking about," Mydei growled. His tone was edged with frustration, and you could almost feel his glare cutting through the space between them. "She drank all of my pomegranate juice. Do you have any idea how long I waited for the harvest? Where is she?" At those words, your stomach twisted with guilt and fear. You hadn’t meant to drink all of it… but it was just so good.

Phainon tilted his head, considering. "Pomegranate juice, you say? That’s tragic. But alas, I’m afraid I haven’t seen her.” leaning casually against a pillar as if Mydei’s wrath was the least of his worries. "Perhaps she’s taken to the market? Or gone to annoy someone else?" 

Mydei hesitated, uncertain whether to believe Phainon or keep pressing him for answers. After a long, tense pause, he sighed, not wanting to bother himself anymore.

"Fine. If you see her, tell her to face me like an adult," You shot your savior a silent, desperate thank-you from behind his back. He subtly shifted, blocking you further from view. Mydei narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it, but after a moment, he huffed, muttering something about “finding her eventually” before storming off.

As soon as he was gone, you stepped out from behind Phainon. "I owe you my life," you said dramatically, your heart still racing. "Or at least my dignity."

Turning to you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "You owe me more than that, I think. But we’ll start with the truth—what did you do?"

You hesitated, then confessed, "I… drank all of Mydei’s pomegranate juice. I was thirsty! And it was just sitting there, looking—"

"Delicious?" Phainon finished, smirking. "You’re lucky I’m good at lying."

"Lucky doesn’t even cover it. I don’t know how to thank you," you admitted, a gentle smile appearing on your face and Phainon crossed his arms, his smirk widening. "I can think of one way."

Your stomach did a little flip. "Do you want to go out on a date?"

He chuckled, blue eyes shining with adoration, "I was going to suggest you replace the juice, but now that you mention it… I won’t say no."

You flushed, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "It’s settled then,"

"At least for now, my lady," he teased, making you wonder how draining Mydei’s pomegranate juice wasn’t the worst decision you’d made after all.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter six a series of misunderstanding and lack of communication finally leads Hiori and Miss Journalist to talk, once and for all. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, implied !NagiReo, suggestive nsfw masterlist

For weeks, there’s been nothing but radio silence. 

You lost count of how many times you’ve typed a reply to Hiori, only to delete it afterward. Again and again. 

Each time, the words feel wrong. Too stiff, too needy, too defensive. No matter how you framed it, everything sounded wrong. What could you even say that wouldn’t make everything worse?

Plus, he didn’t follow up either. 

Every day, you’d sneak a peek into your Winstagram chats, only to see the same conversation where you left off. He’d view your stories, sure. A proof that he’s still there, just… watching. But other than that, nothing. 

On weekends, you’d log onto Steam, hoping to catch him there while you convince yourself to unwind. Every time you do, a few minutes after you log in, his name would pop up on your notifications.

hiyooooooo is now online

Your cursor hovered over his profile picture more times than you cared to admit. But fear—no, humiliation—held you back. You’d tell yourself it was fear of rejection, of misstepping. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just that. Maybe it was guilt too.

So you’ll sit straighter in your chair, hands gripping tight on your mouse, waiting. Waiting for a game invite, a little message, anything.

But nothing ever came.

Gaming was supposed to be your escape, something you both shared but it seems like it can’t break the cold shoulder treatment you’re getting from him. 

Maybe I just need to see him. Or talk to him in person, you thought, clinging to the idea as though it might fix everything. Maybe it will. But still, easier said than done. 

Desperation leads you to ask your editor for a beat change. Anything but Manshine City. The name alone made your stomach churn. You just need some distance from it until you clear the air between you and Hiori. Especially since you two haven’t spoken since the Nagi incident. 

But Mercury in retrograde or whatever cruel force dictated your life these days, have other plans. Because your editor doesn’t budge. And to make matters worse, she hands you your next assignment.

“You’re covering another Manshine City game,” she said, her tone apologetic as it can be.

You want to protest. But before you can even spit out your rehearsed excuses, she cuts you off.

“They saw the numbers your Bastard München pieces pulled in,” she explained apologetically. “It’s PR gold for them.”

Her words hit you like a sucker punch. All the carefully prepared justifications in your head evaporated, leaving you standing there, mute and cornered.

Turns out, your editor and the Manshine City marketing manager are college buddies. She admits that the marketing manager cashed in a favor to get you to cover the team after seeing how you somehow brought good impressions to Bastard München. 

As much as you want to get mad at your editor, you can’t. This was the woman who took a chance on you. The same woman who took you under her wing, believed in you when no one else would. How could you even say no to her?

You shake your head. It wasn’t your editor’s fault, really. That’s just how this business works.

And isn’t it good? People are asking for you, specifically. Isn’t that what you wanted?

Then why doesn’t it feel good?

You should be feeling good about it, right? Swelling with pride, even.  Finally, people were putting a name to your work, treating you as more than a faceless, invisible byline. More than just an unfamiliar face in the video content.

Yet somehow, this void inside of you swallows every shred of accomplishment. And it leaves you unsatisfied and wondering if you truly deserve it. 

And maybe—just maybe—it’s because you can’t untangle work from everything else. Because the lines are blurring, and you’ve let Hiori seep into every corner of your life. You’re not even sure you mind.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? He’s the one who made you believe in yourself, who made you feel like you could be more than just a name at the bottom of an article no one reads. He gave you the confidence to think you belonged here. And now, the thought of him lingers like a shadow, casting doubt over everything you do.

It’s not his fault. You know that. But it feels like the push and pull between your career and the “thing” you have with him is tearing you in two. That undefined, messy connection was supposed to be your escape—a rare piece of joy in the relentless grind of your career.

Instead, it feels like you’re being forced to choose.

Career or connection. Ambition or affection.

The tension in your chest is sharp and unrelenting.

No, you didn’t have time to dwell on that. At this point in your career, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Your personal life? Your preferences? None of that mattered.

You just had to suck it up. And do your job.

The stadium continues to buzz with energy as Manshine City wraps up their match with another clutch win. You just finished interviewing Nagi and Chigiri, notebook clutched in your hand.

Exhaustion pulls at you, but you linger a bit longer, tempted by the upcoming match between Bastard München and Italy Ubers. You have to get going if you want to get started with writing at home and sleep early.

Before you can give in to that temptation and the idea of seeing Hiori even from afar, Reo and the Manshine City marketing manager pull you into a conversation about potential content collaborations.

Despite their excitement showing, you’re pretty much drained. Instead, you offer your goodbyes, attempting to avoid getting roped in further to their impromptu planning.

“Stay, Miss Journalist, stay!” Reo calls out dramatically before he drapes himself over Nagi like a cat. With an apologetic smile and a small wave, you quicken your steps to get further away. 

As you turn, you freeze when you nearly collide with someone. Hands catch you by the shoulders, steadying you before quickly letting go. 

“Hiori…” you breathe as you lock gazes with him.

For a moment, you swear he looked… hurt. But it vanishes as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual calm mask. He takes a step back, scratching the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from you. 

You’re just about to speak but Chigiri’s voice slices through the tension. 

“Hiori, hey!” Chigiri bounds over, oblivious to the atmosphere. His bright energy collides with the moment like a sledgehammer.

Hiori forces a strained, lopsided smile. “Hey.”

“You’ve met Miss Journalist, right?” Chigiri gestures at you with a grin. “Sorry for stealing your fan.”

Hiori eyes the Manshine City jersey draped on your shoulders. A casual gift from the team manager, thanking you for the support and hard work. 

His jaw tightens ever so slightly, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. You feel your stomach twist uncomfortably. 

“Oh yeah? I’m hurt.” A laugh escapes him but his sarcasm is unmistakeable.  

“I-uh, I’m a Bastard München fan at heart, y’know that.” you stammer, gripping your notebook so tight. 

“Well, we don’t mind changing that, do we, Nagi?” Reo teases, his smirk sharp.

Nagi, ever the enigma, tilts his head lazily. “Hmm, changing someone’s mind is a hassle. But Miss Journalist seems worth it.”

That statement doesn’t help.

What the hell is going on in that guy’s head? Are they really riling up Hiori? 

“Wanna make a bet?” Reo’s voice is light, but the edge in his tone is clear.

“I don’t think she needs a bet to know who she likes better,” Hiori cuts in, his voice sharper than usual.

Usually, Hiori won’t be provoked by such trivial things. He gets enough shit like that within his team already. And it doesn’t faze him.

But this—this is different.

Because somehow, you’re involved and in the middle of it. And because it’s you.

He hates the way Reo’s arm brushes against your shoulder as he tries to invade your space. He hates the way Nagi’s detached comment earns a small laugh from Chigiri as if they’re onto something.

And most of all, he hates the image of you in that damn jersey. Or any other team’s jersey. 

Not to mention, he never saw Nagi take an interest in you before. Nor Reo. Not that you’re not attractive. Because you are. But this possessive feeling, is it even right?

It’s irrational. He knows that. He has no right to feel this way. But the jealousy festers anyway, fueled by weeks of silence between you.

“Scared she might like us like us more?” Reo continues to taunt him, his grin widening as he zeroes in on the crack in Hiori’s composure.

Hiori’s fists clench tighter. “Yer delusional,” he snaps, the words biting.

Men. Are. So. Full. Of. Themselves.

You’re not a prize. You’re not some trophy for their ego-driven competition.

Or whatever pissing content is happening between the guys.

Without a word, you turn on your heel and walk away, your steps firm and purposeful. But before you round the corner, you throw a seething glare in Hiori’s direction.

He sees it.

And it hits him harder than anything Reo could have thrown.

Hiori stares at the untouched plate of food in front of him, the hum of conversation around the dinner table fading into a dull, distant noise. His teammates' laughter and energy fill the space in the way only Bastard München could.

But he can’t focus. 

The moment from earlier—Reo’s teasing smirk, Nagi’s casual remarks, and the way you looked at him with such anger—loops in his mind like a highlight reel he couldn’t escape.

He doesn’t know what to do with the emotions simmering under the surface. The possessiveness, the jealousy. 

It doesn’t make sense, not when the two of you aren’t even together. Both of you haven’t talked about feelings, about whether you even felt the same way. 

So why did it feel like something sharp had lodged in his chest every time he thought about you with someone else?

His fingers drum lightly against his thigh as he fights the urge to check his phone again. He’s already done it too many times, looking at your messages, and wondering if he should text you. The silence between you has stretched so long that Hiori isn’t sure how to bridge it.

Am I being pushy? He thought, the question hanging heavy in his mind. 

Is it selfish to want more when we haven’t defined what this is? Am I not being a creep?

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting.

To understand the little things that make you smile. To know you outside the boundaries of work. To know you in a deep, personal, and intimate setting.  

To be the reason for all those moments.

The weight of the thought crashes into him. His chest tightens as the room around him seems to blur—teammates laughing, cutlery clinking, voices overlapping—fading into a hollow echo. The world slows, yet his pulse quickens, each beat louder and heavier than the last.

And then, it hits him.

“I do like her.”

The words slip out of him before he even knows he’s saying them.

The jealousy, the longing, the unspoken hope he’d buried deep enough to convince himself it wasn’t there. But it was. It always had been.

The realization doesn’t just hit—it collides, with the force of a meteor smashing into the earth. It leaves him shaken, reeling, and terrified in all equal measure.

Oh god, I like her.

He’s been running from it, denying it, pretending it wasn’t there. But there’s no escaping it now. No undoing it. It’s real, undeniable, and alive inside him, threatening to consume him if he doesn’t let it out.

His gaze drops to his hands, fidgeting against his jeans. He hates the jealousy twisting in his chest. It wasn’t fair—to you, to the relationship you shared, undefined as it was.

Is my possessiveness hindering her job? She’s here to do her work, and I’m… what? A distraction? A complication?

The weight of the thought makes his stomach churn. And then there was the nagging doubt he couldn’t shake: Does she like me for me? Or is it just Hiori Yo, the athlete? The player?

His teammates’ laughter jolts him out of his thoughts. He blinks, realizing he missed half the conversation. He forces a tight-lipped smile as Isagi nudges him, but his mind wanders back to the phone in his pocket. 

He reaches for it, his heart quickening at the sight of your name on the screen. A message from you.

/yn_offthepage: what the fuck was that about earlier?

He freezes, his thumb hovering over the notification. He hasn’t heard you curse even once. Even through the text, he can hear your biting tone inside his head, ringing.

The screen dims, and Hiori lets it. The weight of his uncertainty presses heavily on him. For now, he couldn’t bring himself to open the message.

Later that night, back in his room, Hiori sits at his desk, staring blankly at his PC screen. Even the idea of gaming felt hollow. His mind was too restless.

His eyes wander to the image of you and him sitting at the pitch all sweaty. It was the candid shot someone had taken during the content shoot where he taught you how to dribble.

You were looking afar with a big smile on your face, and he was looking at you with so much yearning, the smallest smile tugging at his lips, betraying him.

The sight of it stirred something in him. A longing, sharp and bittersweet. He wanted to know if you ever looked at him the way he looked at you at that moment.

But what if opening up ruined what you already had? What if his feelings crossed a line you weren’t ready to acknowledge?

Hiori sighs, leaning back in his chair. The questions linger, unanswered. 

For now, all he can do is sit with them, hoping he’d find the courage to face you—and himself—soon.

Your schedule finally winds down when the JFA hosts a midseason party disguised as a roadshow for the upcoming months and next season.

It’s a rare opportunity to step away from the chaos of your work, and you’re willing to take it. Networking, getting insider info straight from the lion’s den—and of course, free food and drinks.

Especially the free-flowing alcohol.

Despite the “casual” label slapped on the event, it’s still as lavish as you’d expect. Thank goodness there’s no formal dress code. You settled on your favorite gray high-waisted trousers paired with a tight-fitting black sleeveless turtleneck. Professional but bold, with just enough skin to leave an impression. 

You can never go wrong with a little show of confidence, after all.

At the venue, you exchange pleasantries with Anri and Ego. The three of you make for an unusual trio, seated together like this. While you take notes as part of your routine, Anri occasionally scolds Ego for yawning or delivering sharp quips from the side. 

The roadshow presentation is a mix of team management personnel, media representatives, investors, and a few JFA partners. As usual, the rest of the crowd is either running late or loitering outside, waiting for the afterparty to begin.

At least, you’re at ease knowing that you won’t bump into any players. Not just yet.

As soon as the program ends, the three of you continue to chat at the bar counter over drinks. But before you can even swap gossip with Anri, she’s whisked away by a group of Blue Lock graduates—punctual players from Italy Ubers. That leaves you alone with Ego, who sips whiskey neat while you nurse a Long Island iced tea.

“You’re doing better than the last time we met. Not bad for an unpolished gem,” he remarks dryly, lifting his glass.

It’s a backhanded compliment, but you can’t help the small flicker of pride it sparks.

“It’s... okay, I guess. But honestly, I didn’t expect how tough it’d be. The lines between work, passion, and personal life blur so easily.”

You ramble about juggling deadlines, clashing assignments, and the weight of endless expectations. Ego listens in silence, his sharp gaze unwavering.

“Then be an egoist,” he says bluntly, cutting through your ramblings like a knife. “You think those brats are just selfish jerks? They are. But egoism is what keeps them on top.

“It’s what makes them grow, thrive, and become the best. You’re no different. You have to feed your ego too, or else you’ll be devoured and spat out until you’re an empty husk of yourself.”

His words settle heavily in your chest. Before you can respond, Ego stands up, gives a half-hearted wave, and strides toward the exit, muttering something about how his tolerance for the evening’s schmoozing has reached its limit.

Scanning the room, you notice Anri still deep in conversation with some JFA people by the dance floor, while others mingle in scattered groups. The bar counter feels empty now, save for you and the two bartenders.

It’s a good time to pause and gather your thoughts—or maybe strike up a conversation with someone if the alcohol kicks in enough courage. 

For now, you sit quietly, Ego’s words echoing in your mind.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to stand up for yourself—to push for better assignments, to confront Hiori, to stop burying your frustrations under layers of professionalism and fear.

Liquid courage starts to course through your body, loosening your hesitation. You pull out your phone and quickly type a message to your editor.

“I want a new assignment. I think I deserve that much, don’t I?” You hit send and switch your phone to Do Not Disturb before you can even second-guess yourself.

Before your musings can go deeper, someone slides onto the stool to your right. You glance up to see Reo with his cheeks flushed pink and his smile wide with mischief. 

Behind him, Nagi trails, hands stuffed into his pockets, his disheveled hair giving him an even lazier charm. The scent of whiskey clings to them both, Reo more noticeably so.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our favorite journalist,” Reo greets, his voice dripping with playful charm. “What are you doing here all alone? Don’t you know parties are for mingling?”

You glance up, managing to offer a small smile. “And here I thought parties were for free food and drinks.”

“Touché,” Reo laughs, leaning against the bar counter. “But c’mon, there’s more to this party than just snacks. Like us, for instance.”

“Us?” you echo, your brows raising slightly.

“Me and Nagi, of course,” he says, draping an arm over Nagi’s shoulder. “You know, we were just talking about you earlier. He thinks you’re cute.”

Nagi gives a small, noncommittal shrug, his half-lidded eyes fixed on you. “He’s not wrong.”

You blink, the casualness of his statement catches you off guard. Before you can process it, Reo leans in closer, his grin widening. “You should come dance with us. I mean, what’s the harm? A little fun never hurt anyone, right?”

Your laughter is polite but nervous as you shake your head. “I’m fine here, really.”

“Oh, come on,” Reo presses, nudging Nagi toward you. “You look real nice tonight. Don’t tell me you’re just going to sit here all night while looking like that.”

The warmth of Reo’s arm brushing against yours sends a strange buzz through you. Nagi watches quietly, an amused glint in his eyes, as though content to let Reo take the lead in whatever this is.

“You don’t have a boyfriend, right?” Nagi asks suddenly, his voice calm but cutting through the noise around you.

The question startles you, and your answer comes almost automatically. “I don’t.”

“Good,” Reo murmurs, his voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. “Then no one’s going to mind if we take you home tonight.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and electric. You almost choke on your drink, coughing slightly as you gape at him. “Wait, what?”

“Take you home,” Reo repeats, his smile slow and deliberate as if testing how far he can push. “You, me, and Nagi. What do you say? We’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

Nagi’s lips quirk into a faint smile, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Reo’s kidding… mostly.” His tone is dry, but there’s an edge of intrigue that makes it hard to tell where the joke ends.

Your pulse quickens, confusion and a strange heat mingling as you glance between them. Reo’s boldness is dizzying while Nagi’s quiet amusement only adds to your disorientation.

“I… I’m flattered,” you stammer, your voice wavering. “But I’m not interested.”

“Aww c’mon! Give us a chance?” Reo pleads, lightly touching your bare arms.

“I’m really-” 

You wonder if this is just a game to him or something more. But before you can untangle your thoughts, a firm hand lands on the counter to your left, the loud cutting through the tension like a blade.

You turn your head to see Hiori, his smile strained but unwavering. His gaze flickers between you before settling on Reo.

“Mind if I borrow Miss Journalist for a while?” he asks smoothly, though his words leave no room for argument.

Reo raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin unfaltering. “Alright, alright. But I’ll get my dance one day, Miss Journalist! Think about it!”

Hiori doesn’t wait for a reply, instead, he places a gentle but firm hand on your lower back, guiding you away from the bar as Reo and Nagi watch the both of you saunter away. 

"Hey," a small smile plays on Hiori’s lips as he greets you. 

"Hi."

The balcony door slides shut behind him, muting the pounding bass and chatter from the dance floor. It’s just the two of you now, isolated from the noise, the cool autumn air biting at your skin.

You take a good look at Hiori. A white t-shirt tucked into matching trousers, paired with a soft navy cardigan that clings to his frame. He looks effortlessly put together, as always.

"Ya alright?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah," you lie, the words feel heavier than they should.

"What was that about?" Hiori frowns, tilting his head slightly.

"I… think Reo was asking me to uh… sleep with him and Nagi? Are they like, together?" you blurt out, half-laughing, trying to lighten the tension you can already feel brewing.

"Yeah, they are. Pretty low-key 'bout it. Wild, huh?" he chuckles, and for a moment, the tension eases.

But the silence that follows grows heavy. For a minute, neither of you talk. The soft whistle of the wind and the distant hum of the city fill the void between you, but neither of you moves to break it. Finally, you speak.

"You don’t text me anymore," you say suddenly, the accusation sharp.

"Ya never replied," Hiori counters just as quickly, his tone flat but the edge unmistakable.

You bite your lip. "I didn’t know what to say. It felt like you were accusing me of something."

Now, Hiori looks guilty, his lips pressing into a thin line.  "Just… just stop tryin’ to avoid this. Shuttin’ me out isn’t going to fix the problem."

"I wasn’t shutting you out," you argue, but even you don’t believe it. "I just—didn’t know how to respond. It felt like no matter what I said, it wouldn’t be enough."

"And ya thought ignorin’ me was better? Just pretendin’ nothin’ happened?" His voice rises, frustration simmering to the surface.

"What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, it was just work. I’m not interested in Nagi or Manshine City.’ What am I to you to have to defend myself like that?" you snap back, your voice trembling. 

"I don’t know!" Hiori snaps back, his frustration breaking through. "I thought we were close enough to say things like that to each other!"

"And your message had no emojis!" your words overlap with Hiori. It was definitely a petty statement but at this point, your emotions are spilling over in ways even you don’t understand.

Hiori’s eyes narrow, his voice dropping to a dangerous softness. "Didya ever care about me?"

"Because it doesn’t feel like ya do. Ya ignored me when we won. I looked for ya. I know ya saw me. But ya wouldn’t even look my way.." His voice cracks and you see the hurt he’s been burying. 

"Do ya know what that felt like?" His voice is a whisper, pleading. 

You know the answer. That it hurt like a bitch. Because you felt the same pain when both of you went on the silent treatment for weeks. Embarrassment flooded your chest.

This could’ve been resolved easily by just talking things through. This confrontation could’ve been avoided and saved you both the time. But no. 

Instead, you let the hurt fester even further, creating this invisible barrier between the two of you. And now, the blame game is on. And it doesn’t even make sense. 

"It wasn’t about you!" Before you can even think, your words tumbling out in desperation. "It was for work. I-I didn’t want to be seen as the Bastard München… fangirl."

"Why not?" Hiori’s voice rises, taken aback by your words. "We ain’t good enough fer ya? Or is it just me? Am I not good enough fer ya?"

The words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. "I didn’t say that," you whisper, your voice trembling.

"And why should that matter?" Hiori snaps, his voice raw with emotion. "Why does it feel like yer always running away from me?"

Even Hiori himself can’t comprehend why he’s so frustrated. He’s felt betrayal from his parents before. For them caring more about his stature as an athlete than his well-being as their son.

But this one’s different.

He knows how petty he is being. But he can’t help himself not be vulnerable around you. All reason, all logic thrown out of the window because of you. 

All he can think at this point is how good it felt talking to you about work and games. How good it felt when you would talk about football with him with such a glimmer in your eyes that it fascinates him to see how you view the sport. 

How it felt good when you would run up to him to interview him and the team as you guys exchange knowing smiles, fingers grazing just barely. All he knows is that you are magnetic. 

Even right now, all he can think about is being close to you. 

You turn away from him. A shiver runs down your spine, regretting not wearing something more warm for this party.

I can’t do this. Not now, you thought. 

“Please leave me alone. For now. I can’t do this, Hiori.”

The autumn air nips are your arms. Instinctively, you cross your arm in hopes of warming yourself, eyes gazing away from Hiori still. A warm hand envelopes one of yours and you feel the thick cardigan drapes over you, shielding you from the cold wind. 

Hiori’s gaze softens, but his voice remains firm. "M’not leaving until ya tell me what’s going on. Why are ya pushing me away?"

Your shoulders slump as the weight of it all crashes down on you. "Because I feel guilty, okay?" you say. "I don’t want you to think I’m using you."

"People talk," you continue, your voice breaking. "All I hear is how I’m some opportunist, bandwagoning on Bastard München—on you."

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. "I don’t know what this is," you finally admit, gesturing between the two of you. 

"I don’t know what we are, or what I’m even allowed to hope for. And I don’t want to push you or cross a line, but it’s—" Your voice breaks, tears threatening to spill any moment.

"It’s like I’m trying to walk on this invisible tightrope, and I’m scared of messing it all up."

Hiori’s gaze softens, but you keep going, unable to stop now. "I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know how to navigate this—whatever this is—without hurting you or myself or both. And why should you care, right?" you add bitterly, the words tasting like poison.

Hiori steps closer, his voice breaking. "I care. Yer the one person who made me feel like more than just a player. And it hurts like hell to feel like I don’t matter to ya."

"You do matter," you whisper, your voice trembling. "You’re the one thing I think about when I work, Hiori. You’re the reason I believe in myself. But you’re… you’re s-so out of reach, and I’m terrified of ruining what little we have."

Your voice quivers as you reply, "And I don’t know how to fix it, Hiori. I don’t even know where to begin. And it’s not fair to you. You’re you—amazing and steady and… everything I’m not."

He closes the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. "Dontcha get it? I don’t need us to have all the answers now. Just need ya to stop running."

Tears stream down your face as the weight of his words sinks in. "I’m scared," you whisper.

"And ya think I’m not?" he shoots back, his voice cracking. 

"Yer all I think about, and it terrifies me. But I don’t care. I’m here. I’m stayin’. And I’ll wait as long as it takes fer ya to figure out who ya are—because I already know who ya are to me."

For a moment, the world holds still. Then Hiori closes the distance between you, his hands cupping your face gently. He hesitates, searching your eyes for permission, and when you don’t pull away, he leans in.

"Yer amazing," he whispers, breath hot against your lips. "And ya don’t even realize it."

The kiss is soft at first, testing, but quickly deepens as the emotions between you spill over. His lips are warm, grounding you, and when his tongue brushes yours, it leaves you breathless.

You melt under his touch. The kiss itself is intoxicating, as if you’re drowning, lightheaded by the swirling emotions and the budding heat within you.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. "I like ya too, y’know" he murmurs. "M’sorry fer doubting ya. Fer making ya feel like ya had to carry this alone."

He kisses you again, slower this time as if savoring the moment. "I’m sorry for being a coward. For not talking to you."

You clutch at his shirt, your tears mingling with his kiss. "I’m sorry too," you whisper into his mouth.

He smiles faintly, brushing a tear from your cheek. "All this because my message didn’t have an emoji, huh?" he laughs softly, the sound vibrating against your lips.

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension between you finally giving way to something lighter. In this moment, with him, you feel the weight of your worries start to lift, even if just for now.

In this moment, with him, you wish the night would never end.

amari's notes: struggled to write this one, i wanted to really get this chapter out quickly but i wasnt satisfied with my first drafts so i had to rewrite it so many times. i really wanted this to come out well. this chapter is close to my heart, esp when hiori and miss journalist talk about their insecurities. anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[jyaki123]

a Pain

in which Nagi and you have a moment after hanging out.

"I had fun today."

You giggle triumphantly, alrhough tired from a long day at the arcade. Nagi doesn't understand this aching he feels in chest whenever he sees you smile. Normally, he wouldn't be phased by your overwhelmingly outgoing behavior. "You did? Yay... I'm glad!" Your giggles die down into huffs of laughter after you reply. It took alot to convince Nagi to leave the comfort of his dorm and honestly, you don't know how you did it. You hold the miffy plushie close to your chest as you wave one of its arms at him. "You really like that thing, huh." You shake your head, a grin plastered on your face. "Nah, I just like it because it reminds me of you!" His face is unreadable as he responds with a murmur. "Reminds you of me...?" He doesn't see the resemblance. "Yep! You both look comfy to hug and fun to be around." With a sigh through his nose, he pats your head. For a moment, he carries a dazed look in his eyes as if he's contemplating something. He leans forward and...

Lays his entire body onto you, to the point where you had no choice but to drop the poor plush in order to catch him.

"Oi! You're heavy!" You shout in annoyance but you never push him away. It's the little things you said or did that made the aching in his chest appear. It's a pain to deal with, he thinks. And even though you're the one causing it, he wants to be with you more. You sigh, patting his back in a silent plea to get him off. The burning blush on your face is evidence of the vision you had if something else happened. Perhaps, on another day, it might happen.

----------------------------------------------------------------

notes: i admired my little miffy keychain today and thougut of nagi haha. this idea popped in my head afterwards and i had to jot it down quickly!

(c) 22 December 2024

[isagispuzzle]

at age seven, isagi learns two things. one, universal truths are always in the present tense (his teacher told him so), and two, you kiss the people you love (his mom told him so). knowing these, he kisses you under the slide in the playground, because he loves you, at least as he understands it at his age.

at age sixteen, isagi decides two things. one, he will become the best striker in the world, and two, he still loves you, albeit a little more than his seven year old self previously thought. but instead of kissing you, he hugs you tightly before he boards the bus to blue lock, and he takes in all the details of you. he thinks of the smell of your shampoo and the melody of your laugh while he's there, but he never tells anyone that.

at age twenty eight, isagi achieves two things. one, he wins the world cup, and two, he gives you his last name. the kiss you share at the altar is wetter and saltier than the one you shared under the slide, thanks to your tears, but his feelings engrave themselves into your memory all the same. he kisses you again for good measure, much to everyone's amusement, and wonders how his love for you is meant to stay in the present tense when it exists in all past, present, and future tenses.

[kenyummy]

HIGHLIGHTS OF THE NEL ꒰⚘݄꒱ BLUE LOCK

SYNOPSIS : the highlights of the NEL seem to go viral on social media, and it seems the ones surrounding you, as blue lock's dear manager, are the most popular. which are the four most popular?

notes: hey guys u should read wahhh this was very very fun to write

#4 — BONDING TIME OVER CHESS! 2.0m VIEWS

Sitting at a small table, is you and the one and only coach of the infamous German team—Noel Noa. There is a small jug of water on the table in front of you both and also a chess table.

You clutch your chin between your fingers thoughtfully, eyes narrowed and squinted down at the board. Each of you has equal pieces taken away, and he's seemed to have cornered your pieces on the table.

He's watching you with an unreadable expression—you hardly notice through your intense thinking.

A game, all about strategy—It's no surprise you and Noa were locked intensely in a game such as this. It is a game that centres around your team's core values, and there's no substitution for cold, unfiltered logic.

Your eyes light up, and you move your piece on the board. Underneath the table, you cross your fingers as he makes his next move.

It is not long at all before your smile widens and you move your pieces along—collecting his King piece and practically sparkling when you announce, "Checkmate."

He shows a semblance of emotion—shock—when his eyes widen at your moves. It's for such a split second that it was nigh impossible to catch it if you blinked—however, his expression soon reverted back to normal as soon as the reality of his loss sunk in.

"Hm." That is all he has to say. He stares down at the chess board for a few silent moments longer, then says, "I did not expect that. That was a smart move."

You aren't too prideful, but you feel like preening like a peacock at the praise. You smile, placing your linked hands on your lap and nodding, "Thank you. It only worked because I believed you would take the most logical option possible for that next move."

You gesture towards the barren pieces left around his king. If Noa were a regular person, you're sure he would've smiled.

But he is not, so he didn't. "...Good job."

You don't expect the way his large hand finds its way atop your head and how he gives you a singular head pat. You blink incredulously, with dotted eyes.

He pulls away after a moment and you cough into a closed fist. "Master... how about another game?"

He has an indifferent tone—"Sure."—But the way he looks at you fondly tells you all you need to know.

You smile—ignoring the crash and bang of the unsupervised training behind you—and keep smiling as Ness chases Raichi through the room with a kitchen knife.

COMMENTS:

— mimiziiii: THE MOST ICONIC FATHER AND DAUGHTER DUO FRRR

— noastan2234: noa is so hot I want him

— user464637: IM LITERALLY SOBBING THEY PLAY CHESS THEYRE SO CUTE SHSBHSGSHSJ      — user464637: father snd daughter are father and daughtering

#3 — BATTLE OVER THE BATHROOM! 2.6m VIEWS

Aryu and you are at a standstill. Staring at each other, you both are silent and glaring.

You move quicker than the eye can see—rushing forward and using your hand to push the taller man behind you. "Ladies first," you try to say, excusing yourself but is quickly tugged backward.

You screech, lips forming into a nasty scowl at the man tugging your lacy singlet like you're a dog, "WHAT THE HELL, JYUBEI?!"

He winces at the mention of his name, but holds his head up high and huffs, "A glam being such as I deserve to use the bathroom first."

"You and your long ass hair takes years to dry! I need it more!"

Sparkles fly around Aryu and he makes a glam pose, "I don't think so, my [name] dear. I cannot waste a moment to not deter my extreme—" He makes the mistake of letting go of you for a moment to gesture to himself, "—Glam."

His head is suddenly jerked back as you roughly tug it and hiss through your teeth, "Just be a good boy and let me use the bathroom—and I won't make your life hell during training, okay?"

He screams, eyes hardening at you, "You cretin! How dare you touch my hair?! The mop on your head doesn't need any care whatsoever!"

You gasp in offended shock and lunge at him, "Oh no you didn't—"

Five minutes of tussling and petty insults later—it is abruptly stopped by the upward grab of somebody tossing the skinny, spider-limbed boy over their shoulder.

"What... the hell... are you idiots doing?" There, in all his pajamaed, loose-hair glory, is Barou Shoei, holding Aryu in a death grip and staring at you two with an aura of death. His tone is nothing short of dangerous. "You... woke up the entire stratum."

You blink, wide-eyed, while Aryu flips his hair around like a buzzing fly.

"What the hell are you all yappin' about?" Aiku walks in with pants hanging low and shamelessly shirtless—yawning and eyes half-lidded while Niko stands beside him in an oversized shirt with the print, Sleep, Anime, Game, Repeat.

Sendou is walking like a sluggish zombie with a bright pink eye mask on that says, Pretty, with him inches away from walking into a wall, if Lorenzo had not steered him away with a loud cackle.

Suddenly, you stand up and dash forward, "Well, thanks for letting me use the bathroom!" You don't waste a second in flashing Barou a pearly smile and waving as you close the bathroom door.

Behind her, Aryu lets out a loud scream of frustration and Barou snaps at him to shut the fuck up.

COMMENTS:

— barouscleaningspray: OH BAROU SHOEI THE MAN THAT YOU ARE MY MAN FOREVER AND EVER

— cutiepiecoded: AND THEN THEYRE DOING EACHOTHERS HAIR THE NEXT DAY SHSGHSHS I LOVE THEM

— user33535: ubers the only family ever

— animefan222: niko so real for that shirt

#2 — GETTING INTERRUPTED! 4.3m VIEWS

You peek your head into an—almost—empty training room, blinking curiously and surveying the inside. Your eyes light up like stars when you catch sight of something inside the room. The camera pans to show that thing happened to be Isagi Yoichi.

"That shot you made during training was so incredible," you say, taking a seat beside him. A towel is wrung around his neck and he's drinking out of a water bottle like it is the first time he has ever touched water.

Sweat drips down the side of his face—he wipes it away with a large pearly grin and tilts his head toward you, "Right? I could barely believe I did it."

"But you did!" You look to be just as excited as he is, twinkling with joy and smiling wide, "Even Mariele was impressed! You did great, Isagi! If you can replicate it during a game, it will be perfect!"

Isagi stands up suddenly—seeming to be bursting with energy and joy—he situates himself in front of you and you stare up at him, "It's perfect!"

You laugh, standing up in front of him and he places his hands on your shoulders, "It is!"

You both start giggling uncontrollably together—even from a viewing perspective, the energy in the room is unmistakable—and he stares deeply into your eyes with a soft smile.

You look up at him with a similar expression—eyes-half-lidded and squinted upwards—you start to lean in, slowly, when—

"[name]!"

You nearly fall backwards, if not for Isagi's arm wrapping snugly around your waist and tugging you forward. Your head snaps towards the source of the noise in the room—and there stands Gagamaru, with an empty, confused look in his black-hole eyes.

You step aside, away from the egoist—you don't catch the disappointed look on his face as you look towards your goalkeeper—"Sorry, Gagamaru, what did you need?"

He blinks, soullessly. "We've run out of tide pods again."

Isagi is shown rolling his eyes in the background and grabbing his towel.

COMMENTS :

— THEdiva: AHHH THEY WERE SO CLOSEEEE <3333

— cloudycloudss: isagi and [name] have so much chemistry!!! i hope they start dating :((

— soccersoccer888: i hate isagi GOD I HATE ISAGI kaiser is so much better for her i cant

— jellylover3: NOOOO GAGAMARUUUU WHYYYYYY

— isa[name]stan_2626: THE WAY HER EYES LIT UPP WHEN SHE SAW HIM. THEYRE THE REASON I BELIEVE IN LOVE.

#1 — THE FIGHT OVER THEIR MANAGER! 5.6m VIEWS

The video abruptly starts at a strange angle, where Ness has a death grip on the front of Isagi's shirt, "Shut. Up! Die, Yoichi! DIE!"

Kurona and Hiori both leap over to try and pry the screeching boy off of Isagi with panicked expressions. Yukimiya, Gagamaru, Raichi and Kaiser all sit in the back without seeming worried whatsoever.

"Get off me—!!" Isagi pushes the magician away with a snarl, eyes narrowing into a hard glare and face contorting uncomfortably. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"How dare you say that to Kaiser?!" Ness regains his composure with a huff and glare, cheeks puffing out like a small child, "Don't you get it?! If Kaiser wants your manager, she's not yours anymore, she's his! This is his team, not yours, idiot Yoichi!"

A stark silence fills the room and everyone's eyes turn to Ness. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care—because his boiling hot glare directed towards Isagi does not falter for a moment.

"Well, that's incredibly presumptious of you to say." Yukimiya steps forward and pushes his glasses furthur up his nose bridge. "You talk about her as if she is nothing more than a exclusivity, no?"

Kaiser grins, pearly teeth peeking out from behind his slim lips, "Oh? Are you Blue Lockers getting all possessive over your little manager, now? Cute."

"Stay away from her," Gagamaru looms over the German with big wide eyes. "She's ours."

"No way!" Ness snarls, forcibly moving the big man away from Kaiser. "Stop talking to Kaiser like this! He's better than you all! You're just stupid stepping stones for—"

Kurona bares his teeth and frowns deeply, "Miss Manager likes us better, anyways. Anyways."

Kaiser squints his eyes and smiles at the shark-boy, head tilted to the side and smile dangerously charming, "Oh? And who said that?"

"Me, obviously." Isagi looks completely and utterly unaffected by Kaiser's words and stands up in front of him without hesitation. He stares, deeply, into his eyes. "You think, that in any world, she'd choose you, over me?"

His eyes rest and he looks strangely calm, "You're a fucking clown, Kaiser."

"Yoichi..." His voice is strained and hard—brows furrow downwards and he does not get a chance to say anything else when Ness pushes him back and gets all up in Isagi's face instead.

"Die, Yoichi! Die, you idiot!"

"Hey now, maybe we shouldn't..." Hiori raises his hand and begins to try and walk closer to the two—when he is swiftly cut off by Raichi yelling something to start a fight—and a fight he earns.

A catfight hidden by the circle of players ensues in the middle of the cafeteria—just as three figures pass by the open doorway.

You peek inside for a moment—then look right back at the people beside you. "Is everything alright in there?"

"If we walk quickly, we will not be able to see them." An ominous reply, from Noa, and that is all the soccer star says before grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along—forever lost and confused about what was going on in the cafeteria that day.

COMMENTS:

— bereal_hoe: HOW DOES SHE DEAL WITH THOSE GUYS I WOULD ACC KMS

— cherrypiepiepie: THE CUTIESSSSS OF THE WORLDDD THEY LOVE HER SM ITS SO ADORABLEEEE

— nonchalantdreadhead34: i cant kaiser is such a DICK

© KENYUMMY 2024

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[valkoayin]

12/05/24; 05:02pm

itoshi rin x fem.reader

your alarm goes off at 7am, successfully rousing you from your slumber as your hand lazily goes over to your nightstand. blindly reaching toward your phone, you manage to shut off the incessant rings that came from it before laying back in bed.

letting out a soft sigh, you thought about what you could do today for your day off, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you went through different scenarios. while you headed to your bathroom to start your morning routine, your mind conjures up a picture of teal eyes settled over an all too handsome face-

making you gasp as you turned on the faucet of your bathroom sink and dunked your face with copious amounts of cold water. just thinking of his name made the familiar heat settle across your cheeks with your heart turning to mush at the mere thought of him-

honestly, you believed that even after your first few dates together, you'd get used to being around your boyfriend-

but alas, this truly was not the case.

after all, how could you even think of behaving normally when itoshi rin was by far the definition of perfection to you?

through a series of events, you had caught the eye of the infamous soccer player. it was a memory you would never forget, where you were in such a rush to get to class that you managed to trip over a stray rock that was settled in the midst of the sidewalk.

the pain you felt couldn't even compare to the sheer amount of embarrassment you felt, with your cheeks seeming to burn with heat as you hurriedly collected your fallen pencil case and phone, already knowing that you were going to be late as you haphazardly tossed the rest of your belongings into your bag before running into your school's building.

throughout your lecture, you remain seated while diligently taking notes. seeing the list of assignments your professor had written on the board, you wanted to write them down in your planner. yet as you sifted through your bag, you realize that your planner was nowhere to be seen. mentally groaning to yourself, you prayed that you had somehow left it back at your apartment as you made a note of your assignments on your phone instead.

altogether, you were just having a bad day.

feeling more than a little dejected, you step out of your class, only for your ears to perk up at the sound of someone calling out your name. you look toward the source of the voice, only to feel your breathing hitch at the sight settled before you.

the young man towered over you, with ebony locks of hair and a tiny smile. teal eyes meet with your bewildered gaze when he calls out your name once more, this time in a more questioning manner, "this belongs to you, right?"

trailing your gaze towards his outstretched hands, you gasp upon seeing your planner. "y-yes! thank you so much!"

"it's no problem. i saw you tripped and wanted to help you, but it was clear that you felt embarrassed. so i stayed on the sidelines, watching you gathering your belongings. only when you left did i realize you had forgotten your planner." the handsome stranger explains to you, making you feel even more mortified.

you quickly take back your planner from his hand, too shy to meet his gaze as you basked in his smile for a mere second before looking away from him. he keeps his smile while adjusting his hold on his bag. clutching your planner close to your chest, you kept sneaking glances at him, feeling as though you had seen him somewhere before.

"uhm... i apologize if i'm rude, but... you look familiar. do i know you from somewhere?"

a brief look of discomfort falls across his features when he lets out a cough. "no... you don't know me."

you let out a hum in reply, not wishing to make him any more uncomfortable when he suddenly admits to you, "but i did play a bit of professional soccer when i was a teen. i only just recently decided to go to university and expand my horizons a bit. there's a chance you may have seen me play on t.v. or something."

your eyes go wide, managing to meet his gaze while smiling at him, "were you part of that insane blue lock program?"

hearing your question makes the young man let out a gentle chuckle, "yes, and i was pretty damn good back in the day."

becoming more intrigued by him, you step closer to him, still clinging to your planner like a lifeline when you decided to take a chance and ask, "w-would you like to join me for some coffee? y-you know, as a thank you for returning my planner despite witnessing my embarrassing fall?"

he gives you another beaming smile, accepting your offer while following you to your university's cafe-

and the rest was history.

by some miracle, the cute boy who returned your planner became your boyfriend. after your unofficial coffee date, rin admits to how nice it was to talk to you while expressing his desire to see you again-

a desire that you shared with him wholeheartedly.

with your relationship still so new to both you and rin, you truly wanted to do all that you could to have him stay with you, all while doing your best to control your anxieties that came with being together with rin.

letting out a sigh, you finish washing your face and brushing your teeth. while drying your face against a plush towel, that was when your phone goes off with your text tone. curious as to who was texting you so early, you look down at your phone's screen, only to feel your blood freeze upon seeing rin's name:

[ rin-rin 💙: hey, are you up? don't eat anything for breakfast, i plan to take you out on a date today. ]

to say you were a nervous wreck the moment rin invited you out on a date would be an understatement-

for starters, your skin felt hot and clammy, and your heart kept on beating so fast out of your chest that you felt like you were on the brink of experiencing a cardiac arrest. being his girlfriend for a mere few months now, there were many things that were still so new to you.

and truly, you didn't want to mess anything up.

silently chastising yourself, you tried to calm down as you quickly typed out a reply to rin, telling him how you would be ready for him within the next thirty minutes. after sending your text, rin's reply came within a few seconds, with you reading a simple heart and smiley face, the sight of it all making your heart beat even faster within your chest.

not wishing to disappoint him, you got ready, styling your hair while applying a light sheen of makeup that helps with accentuating your features. once you put on a cute outfit while topping it off with your favorite pair of shoes was when you heard rin knocking at your door.

smoothing out your clothes, you hurriedly answer the door, nearly melting on the spot upon seeing rin dressed in a cashmere sweater and jeans. he smiles at you, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against your lips, "good morning, you look great."

"t-thank you!" you wince when your voice comes out in a soft squeak, earning an amused smile from your boyfriend as you attempt to lock your apartment. seeing how your trembling hands kept missing the lock causes rin to act, with his large hand surrounding yours when he helps with inserting the key before turning it.

feeling as though steam were rushing out of your ears, rin proves to be everything you could have asked for (and more) in a boyfriend. once your place was locked, he guides you out of your apartment complex by keeping a hand behind the small of your back, walking to the station together with rin as you followed him every step of the way.

as you got on the train together, rin stands while gripping the handrail tightly while using his free hand to wrap around your waist. "hang on tightly to me," he whispers to you, allowing your face to land against his chest when the train surges forward. catching your soft squeal of surprise, rin manages to keep you upright by placing a hand behind your head, pretending to look away from your embarrassed expression.

throughout the whole ride, you kept your face pressed against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne as your heart continues to race for him. feeling his body shield you during the whole ride made you feel less overwhelmed around the other passengers that surround you. you end up clinging to him throughout the entirety of the ride, with your legs becoming a bit shaky once the train stops at the destination when you exit the train together with rin.

as rin expertly weaves throughout the city all while keeping his fingers interlocked with yours, admittedly, you were having a blast despite your lingering anxieties.

your date with rin was simple, yet incredibly fun. after walking a few blocks, rin ends up taking you to one of the cafes that had just opened, ordering your favorite drink and pastry while sitting across from you. he sips at his own coffee while making polite conversation with you, clearly having a desire to get to know you better.

you answer each and every question he had for you, taking minuscule bites of your pastry due to your own excitement at simply being together with rin. not removing his gaze from you, rin puts down his cup of coffee and calls out your name before leaning across the table to wipe at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

"you had some crumbs lingering there." you nod, about to wipe at your lips with a napkin when rin does something completely unexpected-

you watch with wide eyes when rin licks off the crumb from his thumb, eyes sparkling at you with amusement. the heat was felt against your cheeks, and you tried to calm yourself by taking a sip of your drink, willing your heart to calm down.

despite how you still felt the constant presence of butterflies fluttering around your stomach, you enjoyed basking in rin's company.

after finishing a light breakfast at the cafe, rin pays for everything before taking you to the movies. you both look at what was currently playing before settling on the latest rom-com. of course, when you tried to pay for both of your tickets and some snacks, rin playfully scolds you, sliding his own card toward the booth, "it's my job to spoil you."

in the end, you pout at him while holding your newly purchased popcorn and drinks. once he got your tickets, he hands them to the worker before finding the auditorium, allowing you to enter the dark room first (all while keeping his fingertips interlocked with yours throughout it all).

admittedly, you barely payed attention to the movie, finding yourself often sneaking glances at rin as he snacked on the popcorn. his eyes were glued to the screen, and you mentally cursed your boyfriend for remaining so utterly attractive while doing mundane things like eating popcorn. as if sensing your glare, rin trails his eyes downwards, making you quickly look away from him and towards the big screen.

your ears felt like they were burning when rin was heard chuckling at you, with his arms now coming around your shoulders as he brought you even closer to him. trembling at his close proximity, you were barely paying attention to the movie, for now, all you could focus on when the warmth rin exuded and the way his cologne fills at your senses.

a few hours later, you throw away your empty cups and emptied bucket of popcorn, nearly jumping out of your skin when you heard the harsh rumbling of thunder echoing throughout the theaters. "w-what? it's storming?"

rin clicks his tongue in response, looking out the windows to see the dark clouds looming overhead along with the pounding rain. "just our luck..."

you nod in agreement, shivering slightly as you stood next to him, "maybe we can wait a bit and see if it'll slow down?"

"i doubt it'll slow down." rin shakes his head, eyes scanning the area before seeing a flashing sign a few blocks away, "come on, i see a hotel. let's get a room for the night instead. it's not safe to bring you back home when the weather is this bad."

your eyes go wide at hearing rin's words, feeling your brain short circuit into a mess of panicked thoughts as he takes your hand and runs out of the theater with you. the needle-like rain pierces through you, yet you manage to keep up with rin, running down the sidewalk as the rain quickly seeps into your clothes.

by the time you managed to get to the hotel, the older woman who stood behind the counter greets you while grabbing some towels, "come in come in! goodness, i had no idea where this storm came from! it was so nice this afternoon, and within mere minutes, the dark clouds came in to brew up quite the storm!"

you and rin thank her for the towel, trying to dry off to the best of your abilities. once you deemed yourself presentable enough, you settle the towel on top of the counter as rin bought a room for the night.

"of course." the kind woman processes his payment before offering him a room key. "you'll be on the fourth floor, room 30. be sure to take a nice warm bath!"

the woman's words echo within your mind as it was slowly setting in that you were going to spend the night with rin. your heart continues to beat wildly against your chest, with you nearly jumping when rin takes your hand once more, "relax, it's just me."

he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, expression filled with concern when he asks, "are you alright? you seem more nervous than usual."

"i-i'm f-fine, just cold, that's all...!" he didn't look entirely convinced, but gives you a nod all the same. taking your hand, you walk with him towards the elevators, following him every step of the way when you arrive at your floor. going down the hallway, rin finds the room and unlocks it with the room key.

"you go ahead and take a bath first, i'll be here trying to warm this place up for us." rin stops in front of the thermostat with his back facing you. shivering slightly, you quietly thank him before peeling off your wet clothes, leaving you in your undergarments. with your hands moving up and down your arms, you tried to get rid of the goosebumps that erupts all across your skin-

only to catch the way rin was staring at you from his periphery.

feeling a shudder running down your spine, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom first, shutting the door while attempting to calm your racing heart. rin's eyes as they looked at you, seeming to drink in every part of your body while committing them to memory-

another shudder courses through you when you force yourself out of your reveries. seeing the bathtub, you figured you could relax by making a bath-

just like the innkeeper suggested.

your movements were stiff, with you adding the bath salts before filling the tub with hot water. once the tub was filled to your liking, you carefully shrug off your bra and panties, leaving you bare as you got into the steaming waters. letting out a sigh of relief, you relax back into the tub, allowing the hot waters to help with warming up your body.

a few knocks were heard at the door, making you sit up against the tub as rin enter the bathroom while dressed only in a pair of boxers. your heart felt like it was being squeezed from the confines of your chest at the mere sight of his beautifully sculpted body.

he was lean, but had prominent muscles spread all across his chest and abdomen. and as you kept staring at him with your mouth wide open in a gape, rin manages to give you a tiny smirk. "do you like what you see?"

sputters came from your mouth, yet rin seems to bask in your nervous rants. with a sigh of your name, he gets into the tub with you, settling his back against the porcelain tub while bringing your form into his chest.

you clench your eyes shut, feeling the way the water sloshes out and into the linoleum floors of the bathroom when rin joins you in the bath. his hands lovingly traces at your skin when he leans closer to whisper in your ear, "sssh, relax... and trust me."

you let out a sigh when he massages at your shoulders, soothing the tightness in them as you felt your body turn to mush against him, "i know you've been nervous the entire day... but- i don't want you to feel that way anymore."

feeling a shiver running down your spine, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into him, "i... i can't help it. to me, you're so perfect all the time, and i just don't want to mess up or-"

letting out a grunt of your name, rin cuts off your words by slotting his lips perfectly against yours, giving you a searing kiss that takes your very breath away. while kissing you, rin tightens his arms around you, not stopping until the need for air proved to be too much. he pulls away from the kiss (almost reluctantly) first while resting his forehead against yours.

"i fell for you solely because of who you are. you don't need to be anyone else in order to steal my heart... so just be yourself."

hearing rin's honest words makes your body visibly relax, with your heart not feeling quite as anxious now. meeting his gaze, you allow his larger hands to continue caressing at your body in a loving manner, with you going back in for another kiss.

"thank you," you murmur against rin's lips, earning a smile from him when he playfully nips at your bottom lip in response.

you end up bathing together until the water turns cold, with rin helping you out of the tub first. as he dries both of you off, you each grab one of the robes the hotel provided for you, donning them on your respective forms before heading to bed.

the sound of rain continues to pelt against the windows when you got into bed and lay against the plush pillow. and the moment rin joins you, wrapping his arms around you while allowing your back to meet with his chest once more, all you could feel and bask in was his warmth-

making you realize that such moments like these were always meant to be shared.

end notes: this was supposed to be a multi-character drabble about sharing a bed together, but the side of me that was solely a rin fangirl took over and turned it into this. i hope this was an enjoyable read all the same 😭🙌🏻

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[flowafairy]

holding you , holding me ✿ bllk men

﹒postscript : when they realise they’re in love, with you. ɞ‎ feat. nagi, reo, rin, karasu, shidou, sae, kaiser ɞ‎ cw fem reader in a few, banter, suggestive

nagi realises he’s in love with you when the late night calls start getting more frequent. he had started craving your presence more and more. hell, he felt lovesick.

“what a hassle..” nagi’s head flops against the bed sheets, his gaze constantly shifting to his phone to see if you’ve replied to his text yet.

the nagi waiting for your texts? not to mention texting first, call a man whipped!

”i only take a few second’s to reply..” nagi picks up his phone again, grumbling when his notifications are empty. if he replies as soon as you do, why do you have to spend the next 3 decades replying back?

nagi’s usually the one who replies and then logs on minecraft for hours. him replying in mere seconds at your texts—you’re definitely special. very special in his eyes, oh. there’s something else that caught his eyes.

nagi’s phone lit up with a notification, from you.

sure! it’s a date then :))

cool, :x. 7PM?

reo realies he’s in love with you when his pockets really start to hurt.

i mean really. he’s been spoiling you relentlessly for the past few weeks. even if you insist you don’t need a new shirt, by tomorrow your closet is filled with them.

you just can’t seem to escape his mind. whenever he walks by the street and spots a store, his first thought goes to you, that maybe you’d like this. that maybe he should buy it for you—of course he will.

“you know.” reo smiles at you as you try on the new necklace he bought for you. “i booked a dinner for us, just us.”

“oh?” you hum, still struggling with the hook. “can you help me?”

“sure.” he’s more than happy to help you hook your necklace—a chance to put his hands on you? he’ll take it gladly.

“so about that dinner..” his hands swiftly clasp your necklace around your neck. “are you coming or what?”

“i don’t know… the mikage reo taking me out?” you grin up at him. “im a little shy.”

you and reo laugh soundly, well, looks like you’ve got a date tonight.

rin couldn’t believe it.

he’s in love with you, playback—he’s in love.

it started off with smaller details, like how he would leave his soccer practice or gym earlier than usual to see you. and also how his messages app slowly started to become his most used app.

soccer wasn’t everything anymore, he had you too now.

“don’t make me waste money on this lukewarm shit ever again.” rin gruffed as he watched you sip the drink he had bought you from the convenience store earlier.

normally, he’d never waste his money on some useless milkshake from the store, that’s not even good for your body. but seeing you contentedly gulp at the fresh taste of your drink, he can’t seem to hold himself back.

“give me some.”

the words slip out of his tongue before he can control them.

“you wanna try?” well he’s definitely colored you surprised now. “come here then, rinnie.”

rin could feel his face slightly heat up at the nickname. he scoots closer to you, snatching the drink from your hand with no warning.

“hey!” you glare at him as he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, definitely not what you anticipated. “that was mine, you were supposed to take a sip.” you huff at him.

rin only rolls his eyes. “i paid for it. ill buy you a new one later.” your eyes sparkle at his words.

“fine, you win.” you smile. “im going to get going before you become grumpy and tell me to shoo.” you give him a teasing wink, about to get up from his couch when suddenly he grabs your arm.

“wait.” he grits his teeth, biting back words. “don’t go.”

“rin?”

“just, don’t.”

“you missed me, huh?” karasu smirks. he had his hair down, for once not put up with an insane amount of gel—karasu in all his glory.

“i didn’t.” you huff at him. “you look even uglier with your hair down.”

“yer’ comparing my beauty to your birds nest?” karasu crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“oh, we can see them split ends girl.” you roll your eyes.

karasu has always loved bantering with you, but nowadays, it seems as if his heart has been telling him thats not the only reason his heartbeat speeds up whenever he’s around you.

he loves bantering with you, he loves you.

there’s a prolonged silence, karasu’s anticipating if he should say what he’s about to say. he usually isn’t this nervous—you’re the exception to that.

“you think you wanna go out sometime, yeah?” it’s the way his sharp eyes soften that makes your heart start doing flips.

“yeah, i do.”

there’s a moment of comfortable silence, your brain ingraving the memory in the back of your head. which of course, quickly gets ruined by his cocky smirk. he wasn’t the best at dealing with these moments

“even y’can’t resist my charm.” karasu sticks his tongue out at you. “ill pick you up at 9.”

“you… get back here!”

shidou could feel a wide grin on his face as he read your message—“sure, i’d love to go sky diving with you!”

anybody would of said that is a crazy idea for a first date, but you? you can say you definitely match his freak.

his heart explodes into a burst of enthusiasm whenever you’re around him. he can feel a rush of serotonin whenever you accidentally brush your hands against his.

oh he was so in love. he is definitely wifing you up when you deploy the parachute- how could he not when he feels like he’s going to explode with all these bottled up feelings.

he in fact had a very disappointed pout on his face when you said it was far too soon for marriage, so what if you’re not dating yet? you can start now!

your betrayal will not be forgotten. but hey, he can try again next year.

sae realised he’s in love with you when you started becoming an avid figure in his daily routine.

it was like muscle memory for him to wake up and check for your good morning text, never failing to emit an amused scoff from his lips.

of course, he acknowledged the fact that he was in love with you. but would he dare entertain the thought and risk the beloved friendship you already have? never.

“nobody’s looking.”

this was dangerous. he has you trapped against the wall in the locker room, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. he wasn’t suppose to be doing this—but how could he resist when you came to see him at practice?

“sae…we can’t here.” you try to be rational, but your breathing is just as heavy as his.

“just shut-“

footsteps. someone was coming. sae pushes you away behind a locker so nobody see’s you, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

maybe next time he’ll get you.

kaiser took some time to notice his feelings, but even he started getting self conscious of all the excuses he started making to touch you, and the flirting was starting to cross a few boundaries as well.

maybe he’s just lust-driven, that’s all he thought for a while. he chose to distance himself, and you didn’t miss the change in his behaviour.

he thought distancing himself would help ease his feelings.. not make them worse.

he can feel his heart throbbing, mind full with only thoughts of you—is it love or is it lust?

he doesn’t know, he’s never felt like this before. what even is love? thats stupid.

“hey.” he smirks, grasping your hand, a habit of his by now. “what are you up to, schatz?” the light-hearted pet name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“michael.” you look at him, eyes widening a little. “i haven’t seen you in forever.” his expression slightly wavers at that.

“oh i’ve been.. busy.” he lies, smiling. the truth is, he hasn’t been busy at all. he’s been avoiding you, you and your precious smile.

“its okay.” you pat his shoulder. “i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.” he blurts out unknowingly, slightly flinching at what he said. “i’ve been avoiding you.” he confesses.

your eyebrow’s slightly raise at that. “…why?”

“because.. i don’t know.”

your hands hesitantly reach out. you knew how he was about physical touch, but maybe just this once he needs it.

he bents down a little, his face hitting your shoulder as he reciprocated your hug.

“Ich liebe dich.”

apologies, some parts aren’t as long as the others. i got lazy ( and have favorites… ✌️) only 7 chrc bc i had no ideas for isagi