eclipixels

[eclipixels]

Not a rin girlie but this is so cute 😔😞

Rin likes black.

Call him emo or depressed or cringe or whatever works best for you. He uses ONLY black things.

His shirts are all black. He shows up to practice wearing the team's black kit. His car is black. He answered a interview saying that his favorite color was black (although he disliked the question and thought it was unecessary - he's here to talk about football, goddammit!) Hell, even the Keychain on his black backpack is a black and white sad face.

He likes black. Actually, scratch that. He loves it.

So, his team can't help but feel confused when he suddenly comes to practice with the team's pink kit, which he swore ("cross my heart and hope to die" kind of thing) that he'd NEVER wear. He even said it was because you accidentally washed it during laundry day it was still not dry. (Ha. As if. He had like 10 of those).

And then he came with that same kit the other day. And the day after that. And the day after that day too.

And, suddenly, things weren't so black anymore.

His backpack, which now was adorned with pink hello kitty stickers, had a smiley pink and white Keychain attached next to the black and white one. His car had pink details on the leather seats, and his shoes were black and pink.

It was strange, to say the least. That was until they couldn't really take it anymore. Seeing a pink hair tie around his wrist hut the final nail in the coffin.

"So... uhm... Rin." Isagi started, Bachira and Nagi curiously watching behind him "If I remember correctly, you said before your favorite color is black, right?"

"It is" Rin deadpanned.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them while Rin waited for Isagi to answer and Isagi waited for him to say something else. It was quickly interrupted by Bachira's excited "Ask already!"

"But... uhm... I see you took a liking to... pink things. Why's that?"

"Oh" Rin clearly wasn't expecting this question. He stared into Isagi's eyes and then looked down to tie his shoelaces "I don't like pink"

"Huh?" Nagi made a noise behind them, and just then did Rin notice those two

"But you have lots of pink things now!" Bachira said, getting behind Itoshi and shaking his shoulders, obtaining an eyeroll from him

"I dislike pink" he shook Bachira's hands off and sighed "I wear it only because my girlfriend loves it"

"Fair enough!"

"Oh."

"Okay, well, that actually makes sense"

"Owwnnn, is Rinnie so in love with his girlfriend that he wear pink just for her?" Seriously, who called Shidou here anyways?

But what made Rin hate him even more was the fact that he was right. He did wear pink only for you.

He was getting tired of you nagging at him for only having black shirts (and he also loved your smiling face when you saw him dressed like a Barbie doll, but that's on second thought or at least he likes to pretend it is.)

Don't get me wrong, black is still his favorite color. But you're his favorite thing in the whole world, so take a guess on who wins this one.

Black: 0

You: 1

Quick note: Rin loves when these two things are together. So imagine his reaction to you on a black dress on your 1 year anniversary. Bro almost fainted.

I hate school somebody HELP ME

Not proofread cause I'm sleepy and lazy. Deal with it.

Masterlist

[eclipixels]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

L&DS boys

TBA

Xavier

TBA

Zayne

TBA

Rafayel

TBA

Sylus

Our Past?

Caleb

TBA

[eclipixels]

Our past?

Sylus x Reader

Content: After discovering your past life with Sylus and his promise to restore your memories, you find yourself eager to hear the stories of your past from him.

Warnings: : slight angst if you squint your eyes

[2,118 words]

A/N: Sylus’s myth has been weighing on my mind, it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Forbidden love?? Like?? Ugh. I had to write something to make it hurt less :’).

      After discovering the truth about your past life, a storm of emotions had raged within you. Anger, betrayal, disbelief. How could Sylus have kept something so monumental from you? How could he have known and simply chosen not to tell you? The argument that followed had been fierce, but in the end, he relented, promising to restore your lost memories tomorrow morning. Now, the fire had dimmed, replaced by a quiet restlessness you couldn't shake.

      “Won’t you at least come to bed, darling?” Sylus murmured, his voice softer than usual, his sharp eyes now wide and pleading. You exhaled, exasperated yet unable to deny him. With a tired sigh, you crawled over, settling on top of him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath you.

      "Sylus?"

      "Hm?"

      "Tell me about our past," you whispered. He had promised to return your memories tomorrow, but waiting felt unbearable. The unknown loomed too heavily over you, making it impossible to sleep.

      He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "Impatient, aren’t you? Can’t even wait until tomorrow?"

      "You’re one to talk about being greedy," you huffed, shifting slightly against him.

      “I know,” he admitted, the grin that spread across his lips filled with something more than amusement, something nostalgic, as if the weight of the past he had once tried to forget was now something he wanted to remember.

      He studied you for a moment before continuing, “Did you know you were a princess, princess?” His smirk widened at his own joke, reveling in the play on words.

      You rolled your eyes, but your curiosity overpowered your exasperation. "A princess?"

      "Ivory City," he said, watching for recognition in your gaze. "They accused you of being a sorcerror because you took pity and sympathy on my kind, so they cast you out."

      "How primitive," you muttered, unimpressed by the cruelty of a kingdom you barely remembered.

      "Indeed," he agreed, his tone laced with a quiet sort of amusement. "They feared what they couldn't understand."

      A brief silence stretched between you before he added, “You also gave me my name, but I already told you that.”

      You sighed, tilting your head slightly. "You still haven’t taught me how to pronounce your actual name." It was something you had discovered earlier, before the argument, before the flood of fragmented memories revealed pieces of his dragon life with you in Philos.

      Sylus hummed, clearly unbothered by the notion. “It’s irrelevant,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles against your back. “I like your version of my name better. Your claim on me.” His grin returned, sharper now, something possessive glinting behind his eyes. A name you gave him that he’s used ever since. Your lips parted slightly, heart skipping a beat at the weight of his words. You had claimed him once before, long ago, in another life. And now, in this one, you were beginning to do it all over again.

      Sylus smirked, his voice dropping into something teasing. “Did you also know that once, back when we still held nothing but disdain for each other, I wrapped my hand around your throat, and you—” He let out a short laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You moaned.”

      You jolted upright, eyes wide. “I did what?!” you shrieked, horrified.

      His laughter only deepened, rich and unbothered. “It was certainly… unique,” he mused, tilting his head as if replaying the memory in his mind. “I’ve threatened plenty of people before, but never had anyone react quite like that.”

      Heat flared across your face as you groaned, burying yourself against his chest in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

      “No, you don’t,” he chuckled, pressing a lazy kiss against the top of your head.

      A moment of silence passed, the air between you settling into something softer, something steeped in nostalgia. “Most nights,” Sylus murmured, “we spent our time together under the moonlight.”

      You closed your eyes, letting his voice guide you through the fragments of a past you desperately wished to reclaim. “I can’t wait to get my memories back,” you hummed. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you all over again.”

      His fingers curled gently around your waist, holding you close. “There were times,” he continued, voice quieter now, “when you would see my true form, and I expected you to be afraid. I thought you’d run, that you’d look at me like I was a monster.” He paused, as if caught in the memory. “But you didn’t. Instead, you traced your much smaller hand over my scales and horns. You—” He swallowed. “You still loved me.”

      “How couldn’t I?” you whispered, pressing closer.

      Sylus exhaled, the tension in his body unraveling. “Back then, I didn’t know what love was,” he admitted. “You introduced me to that.”

      You lifted your head slightly, gazing up at him. “Really?”

      His lips curled into something almost reverent, something achingly fond. “Really.

      “That’s beautiful,” you murmured, voice soft with drowsiness.

      Sylus smiled faintly, fingers tracing idle patterns against your waist and thighs. “My favorite memory might be when I took you to that flower field,” he mused, pausing expectantly for your response.

      But you said nothing. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to glance down at you.

“Kitten, are you asleep?” he asked after a long stretch of silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. A quiet snore escaped you. You weren’t asleep, but he didn’t have to know that.

      His chest rose and fell with a slow inhale before he continued anyway, his voice dipping into something raw.

      “The reason why…” he started, then hesitated. For once, the words didn’t come so easily. “The reason why I withheld these memories and this information from you was because I knew it would break you.”

      A heavy silence settled between you, thick and suffocating.

      “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that we have half of our souls in each other.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. That much, you had already discovered. The truth that the two of you were irreversibly connected, bound by something ancient and inescapable.

      His next words came quieter, almost as if he didn’t want to admit them out loud. “But I just… I couldn’t let you know that we were destined for death.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “It was greedy of me. I wanted you all to myself, even if it meant keeping the truth from you. But the curse of a dragon’s beloved is to die. And you—” His voice wavered, the weight of his confession nearly unbearable. “You were destined to kill me, as my archenemy.”

      His breath hitched, and he let his eyes fall shut. “I didn’t want you to know that,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But I realized… it’s not just my story. It’s yours too. And you deserve to know.”

      The words hung in the air between you, fragile and aching. His throat worked as he tried to steady himself, but his voice still cracked, betraying the turmoil he had tried so hard to suppress. Still, you didn’t move, didn’t respond. But your fingers twitched ever so slightly against his chest.

      You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the warm tears spilled onto Sylus’s chest. They fell silently, one after another, pooling against his skin like echoes of a grief you weren’t prepared to feel.

      “Sweetheart?” Sylus called out, his voice laced with concern. His arms tightened slightly around you. “Are you alright?”

      “It hurts,” you whispered, your voice small, fragile. “Why was our story so sad?”

      He exhaled, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “I don’t know, my love,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “This is why I didn’t want you to know.”

      A shuddering breath left you as you stared at the space between you, the past pressing in on your chest like an unbearable weight. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

      Sylus stilled for a moment before letting out a small, knowing sigh. He tilted your chin up, thumb brushing away the tears clinging to your lashes. “Sweetie, that’s all in the past for a reason,” he murmured. “None of that destiny, archnemesis, dragons-destroying-cities, royalty-and-war bullshit matters here.” He smirked slightly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe the part about our souls being tied for eternity, but I’m not complaining about that part.”

      You sniffled, staring up at him with a wobbly frown.

      “Oh, and wanderers,” he added, scowling. “That part I do complain about.”

      You huffed a small laugh despite yourself, but your expression quickly turned serious again. “You didn’t answer my question, though,” you said, eyes searching his. “Did I hurt you?”

      Sylus hesitated. “Well…”

      “Stop it. Just tell me.”

      A sigh, followed by a lopsided, almost sheepish grin. “Maybe you stabbed me.”

      Your mouth fell open. “Maybe?”

      “But it wasn’t entirely on purpose,” he continued hastily. “Not out of your own volition. In fact, you didn’t want to kill me at all. That’s why you chose to tie our souls together instead.” He pulled your leg up to wrap around him tighter. “You chose to save me instead of killing me. Our souls became bound, incapable of betraying each other.”

      “Incapable of betraying each other?” you echoed, brows furrowing before your expression morphed into something accusatory. “Oh, really? Then what about that time you ate my sandwich I was saving for later?”

      Sylus blinked. “Uh—”

      “Actually, no. You didn’t even eat it yourself,” you fumed. “You gave it to Mephisto. A mechanical bird. I don’t even know if he can digest organic material!”

      “So feisty,” Sylus murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Lifetimes of love, and yet, you’re still a brat.”

      “Hey!” You gasped, feigning offense, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

      He only chuckled, shaking his head. Then, his expression turned mischievous as he pointed a finger at you accusingly. “But, you do realize—I can never die unless you’re the one who kills me.”

      You smirked, crossing your arms. “Oh, I was so smart for doing that.”

      Sylus let out a full-bodied laugh, the sound warm and rich with something inexplicably fond.

      “What?” You tilted your head, watching the way his grin widened.

      “Isn’t it crazy?” he said, voice quieter now, as if he was still wrapping his mind around it himself. “Lifetimes of love… You’ve always been my girl.”

      Something about the way he said it made your chest ache in the most bittersweet way. This love of yours, it felt like it was something you’re not allowed to have. You swallowed hard, voice softening. “I still can’t believe you’re a dragon.”

      “What?” He snorted. “You thought the horns were just for decoration?”

      You groaned sleepily. “In my defense, you don’t always make them visible.”

      Sylus smirked. “Would you like me to keep them out more often, then? Just for you?”

      “Sylus.” You whimpered, burying your face against him.

      His amusement faded as concern flickered across his features. “You’re still upset?”

      “I don’t want to kill you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

      Sylus exhaled, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines against your back. “Love,” he murmured, “like I said, you won’t. This is our timeline.”

      “But I want you in every timeline,” you confessed, curling closer, as if holding onto him tighter could somehow tether your souls together even more. “Every life.”

      Sylus stilled. His fingers stopped their tracing. His breath hitched just slightly. Then, with a heavy sigh, he picked up your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. His lips were warm, his touch reverent.

      “I…” He hesitated.

      Sylus never made promises lightly. He didn’t want to promise you something he couldn’t keep. But then, he thought about it. About how he had already overturned fate before. How he and you both had defied instinct, rewritten the path carved for each other. Yet, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t just want your soul. You didn’t just want his eye. You were both greedy, greedy creatures. You wanted to consume each other, bones and all. In love. In deep, all-consuming love.

      And maybe he could make that happen.

      He would need a powerful enough sorcerer. Someone who still wielded magic strong enough to rewrite the very laws of existence. He could find one. He would find one. He would make sure it was just you and him, forever. Not killing each other. Not dying. That would make you immortal, too.

      He could have you forever.

      Now, wasn’t that greedy?

      “I promise,” he finally whispered, sealing his vow with another kiss against your palm, not noticing the soft glow that wrapped itself around you both as you involuntarily resonated.

[eclipixels]

i might have baby fever rn but i can’t stop thinking abt isagi and reader having a son that’s almost an exact copy of isagi in appearance nd being that one meme that’s like “nine months in my womb making me suffer and you look like your stupid dad!” 😭

Ctrl C + Ctrl V

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

[1,149 words]

      There is no way, you thought, as you stared at your few-hours-old newborn, cradled in your arms.

      Your baby looked just like your husband. Not just in the usual way that babies sometimes resemble their fathers—no, this was almost uncanny. The way the little human looked up at you with the same big blue eyes, blinking sleepily, and that same slightly clueless but endearing expression made you wonder if you had actually just given birth to a clone.

      It was almost comical. The same messy dark blue hair that refused to be tamed, the same pout when something didn’t go their way, the same chubby cheeks you had spent years pinching, the same nose that scrunched up just slightly when they yawned. Even the shape of his tiny ears mirrored Isagi’s.

      How? Just—how?

      You had spent nine long months carrying this child. Nine months of swollen feet, back pain, cravings at ungodly hours, nausea that never quite left, and nearly ripping Isagi’s arm off during labor. And for what? A miniature version of him. A tiny, living, breathing replica of your husband, complete with his wide, dumb grin.

      You squinted at your son, shifting him slightly in your arms as he let out a soft coo, his small fingers wiggling in the air. Then, your gaze flickered over to your husband, who was practically vibrating with excitement beside you, looking like he was about to explode from sheer joy.

      You scowled.

      Then back to your son.

      Then to Isagi.

      It was like looking at the before and after of a single person. One with slightly more experience in the world and the other just discovering it.

      “Nine months,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with disbelief and just a hint of betrayal. “Nine months in my womb making me suffer, and you come out looking exactly like your stupid dad.”

      Your baby gurgled happily, the sound strikingly familiar, and you swore you heard Isagi’s idiotic laugh echoing in that tiny giggle. That was the last straw.

      Your husband laughed at your deadpan expression, feigning offense. “Hey! You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

      You shot him a look before sighing dramatically. “Unbelievable.”

      Isagi, who had been eagerly waiting for a chance to hold his son, reached out with grabby hands. “Come on, let me hold him!”

      You hesitated for just a second—after all, this was your hard work, your baby, your little bundle of exhaustion and joy. But then, seeing the almost puppy-like expression on your husband’s face, you relented, gently placing your son into his father’s arms.

      Isagi’s grin stretched impossibly wide as he carefully cradled the baby, holding him up like he had just won the World Cup.

      “He’s so tiny,” Isagi breathed, his voice filled with awe. His hands that were almost broken a few hours ago (courtesy of you) handled the newborn with a tenderness that made your heart melt. He was so good at being a dad.

      The baby let out a soft babble, tiny hands reaching out, fingers curling toward Isagi’s face. Your husband immediately leaned in, letting the little fingers brush against his nose before pressing a series of noisy kisses to your son’s chubby cheeks.

      “I hate you.” You tell Isagi as he pouts, it looks as if Isagi was the one who gave birth, not you.

      “At least someone loves me right now,” he declared proudly as he turned to face the baby in his arms, making exaggerated kissing noises. “Isn’t that right, B/n?”

      You scoffed, but the fondness in your gaze betrayed you. “Unfair. He’s supposed to be my baby.”

      Isagi turned his wide eyes toward you, feigning shock. “Our baby, you mean.”

      You crossed your arms, pretending to think it over. “Debatable.”

      Isagi gasped in mock offense. “Hey! What are you insinuating? I thought you loved me.”

      “Not right now, I don’t.”

      Your husband let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head, ”Can you believe her, B/n?”

      Your son, oblivious to the playful banter between his parents, let out a tiny sneeze. Both you and Isagi immediately snapped your attention back to him.

      “Ack, was that a sneeze?” Isagi asked, his voice rising in pitch with alarm.

      “It was just a tiny sneeze, calm down,” you reassured him.

      “What if he’s cold? Does he need a blanket? Should I hold him closer?”

      You groaned. “He’s fine, Ichi. Babies sneeze.”

      Isagi narrowed his eyes at you, skeptical, but ultimately sighed in relief when the baby simply yawned and nestled deeper into his arms. A moment of silence settled between you both as you watched your son, his tiny chest rising and falling with each soft breath. The weight of the moment seemed to sink in fully for the first time, this was your family now.

      Your husband let out a breathless chuckle, shifting to sit beside you on the hospital bed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He gently pressed your son back into your arms, making sure you were comfortable before leaning in close, his chin resting lightly against your shoulder.

      “He’s perfect,” Isagi murmured.

      You sighed, glancing down at your son, tracing a finger along his soft cheek. “Of course you’d think that when he looks just like you.”

      “I don’t hear you disagreeing.”

      You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small, tired smile that tugged at your lips. “Let’s see if you still think that when it’s your turn to wake up for late-night feedings and crying.”

      He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Anything for my little clone.”

      You playfully shoved him. “Your clone? You’re not helping your case.”

      Isagi just grinned, unbothered, eyes twinkling with mischief before ever so softly whispering. “Maybe the next one will look like you.”

      You froze, your entire body stiffening. Your gaze snapped to him, eyes narrowing. “Next?”

      Isagi burst into laughter, clearly amused by your reaction. “Just saying, we make cute kids.”

      You groaned, resting your head against the pillow. “Give me at least a year before you start talking about ‘the next one.’”

      Your husband chuckled, leaning over to nuzzle against you and the baby. “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to scare you.”

      You sighed in exasperation, but there was no real annoyance behind it. As much as you liked to tease him, you knew, deep down, that there was no one else you would rather be doing this with. There was no one else you’d rather be the father of your child. Your baby let out a soft sigh, snuggling closer against your chest. You wondered if at least he’d get your personality if not looks. You whispered a soft, ‘I love you’ to your baby before tilting your head towards the man you were bound to spend the rest of your life with.

      “I love you, Ichi”

      “I love you, too,” Isagi replied warmly, “and you too, little one.”

A/N: Made the meme for this fic 😭

[eclipixels]

Literally love your page, like seeing your fic is a immediately read!!!!!! Idk if you do request or not so ignore it if you want

Can you do like Isagi x reader where there like going on a date, and some fans stop them to take pictures with them but one of the fans let slip they like reader more cause she their favorite WAG or something like that, thank you in advance!!!!!<3

Your fans?

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

[1,563 words]

      You two had always made time for dates, no matter how hectic life became. Ever since your relationship turned serious, prioritizing each other had been an unspoken promise. No matter how grueling Isagi’s training got or how deep you found yourself buried in your personal research projects, you both carved out moments just for the two of you. Those moments had once been frequent. Late-night strolls, cozy café visits, spontaneous weekend getaways, but lately, they have become frustratingly scarce.

      Between Isagi’s ever-demanding soccer career and your growing recognition in your respective field, finding time together was beginning to feel like a luxury rather than a routine. You had earned a reputation for yourself at a remarkably young age, and Isagi’s talent had propelled him into the spotlight more than ever. It was exhilarating, yet exhausting.

      And when you finally did find the time to go on a date, it hardly felt like one anymore. The quiet, intimate moments you craved were constantly interrupted by eager fans. At first, you didn’t mind. It was sweet seeing little kids approach Isagi, their eyes brimming with admiration, their excitement barely contained as they asked for autographs or a quick picture. Those moments warmed your heart, knowing how much he inspired them.

      But the fangirls… the relentless, wide-eyed admirers who seemed to forget you even existed—those were starting to wear on you. The way they giggled, clung to every word he spoke, and completely disregarded the fact that he was clearly on a date made your patience run thin. And the older fans, the ones who treated him like a celebrity first and a person second, weren’t much better. It was draining, watching your time with him slip away bit by bit, stolen by people who didn’t understand how rare these moments were for you.

      You never wanted to resent his success. You were proud of him, so incredibly proud. But sometimes, you wished you could go back to when it was just the two of you, uninterrupted and unbothered. Was that such a bad thing to want?

      "Y/N-channn!" Isagi came bursting in through the door.

      "Ichi, what the hell?!" you yelped.

      "What?" he asked, blinking innocently.

      "Ever heard of knocking? I could've been naked!"

      "You say that like it’s a bad thing." His lips curled into a smirk.

      You shot him a glare, and he laughed before changing the subject. "Anyway, why aren’t you ready yet?"

      "For what?"

      "Our date!"

      "When did we plan that?" You asked, not that you were complaining. You hadn’t been on one in awhile.

      "Right now," he grinned, completely unbothered. "Go get ready!"

      You stared at him, waiting expectantly. He stared back. Is he stupid?

      “So you gonna change or…?” He finally spoke, coughing awkwardly.

      "With you in here?" You looked at him with bewilderment. Since when did he get so bold?

      “Yeah.”

      "I’m not stripping while your perverted ass is staring."

      "Nothing I haven’t seen before," he shrugged, eyes twinkling with mischief.

      "Out!" You grabbed a pillow and chucked it at the thirsty man. “You fien”

      He dodged, laughing as he backed toward the door. "Only for you, love!"

      You shut the door behind him, shaking your head with a small smile.

      -

      The evening air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of city life as you and Isagi strolled through the streets, hand in hand. The glow of streetlights bathed the pavement in a warm, golden hue, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor filled the air. It was peaceful, just the two of you, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. These were the moments you cherished most. The quiet, stolen fragments of normalcy. Laughter bubbled up between you two as your dorky boyfriend spouted some random nonsense he knew would make you laugh. It was sweet, the way he was so tentative towards you.

      But that tranquility didn’t last for long.

      You felt it before it even happened. Familiar, lingering glances from a small group of middle schoolers standing nearby. Their hushed whispers, barely concealed excitement, and the way they kept shifting their gaze toward Isagi made it all too clear. You sighed inwardly, already knowing what was coming.

      Sure enough, three of them finally gathered the courage to approach. Their steps were hesitant at first, their hands fidgeting at their sides. One of the kids, probably the boldest of the group, cleared their throat before speaking.

      “U-um… excuse me! You’re—You’re Isagi Yoichi, right?” Their voice wavered between nervousness and awe, their friends standing just behind, eyes wide with anticipation.

      You stole a glance at Isagi, who offered them a small, friendly smile.

      And as much as you wanted to be patient, to remind yourself that these were just people who admired him, you couldn’t ignore the twinge of irritation settling in your chest. Your time with him was so limited, and yet, even now, it wasn’t truly yours.

      "Can we take a picture? We're really big fans!"

      You sighed, prepared for the routine of Isagi smiling for the camera while you played photographer. But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of handing you the phone, they positioned themselves between both of you. You blinked. They wanted a picture with you, too? Isagi and you, not just him.

      Your boyfriend grinned as he wrapped an arm around you, all too amused by your shocked expression. You managed to smile for the camera, still processing the fact that, for once, you weren’t forgotten.

      Then, to your even greater surprise, one of the middle schoolers turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. "C-Can I get a picture with just you, L/n-san?"

      Your jaw nearly dropped.

      "Huh? Me?"

      "Yes! You're so cool!" they beamed before handing the phone over to Isagi to take the picture.

      Your face went hot. Isagi, meanwhile, couldn’t help the fireworks in his heart at the sight of your expression. The way your eyebrows were raised, your cheeks flushed and your eyes all wide and doey. You looked like the epitome of the expression, ‘deer in headlights’.

      You tried to regain your composure, posing for the picture.

      The middle schooler grinned, clutching their phone like it held the most precious treasure. "You're so smart and pretty, and you and Isagi are, like, goals!"

      Isagi chuckled under his breath, watching as your flustered expression deepened. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, a silent reassurance as you blinked in surprise at the unexpected compliment. You weren’t used to being recognized, at least not in this way. It was always about Isagi, about his incredible skills on the field, his rising fame, his career. But to hear someone acknowledge you, your intelligence, your looks, and your relationship caught you completely off guard.

      “You follow my work?” you stammered, blinking at the middle schooler, who grinned and clutched their phone like it was holding the most precious treasure.

      “Of course!” they chirped. “Your research is so cool! I read that article you posted last month—well, I didn’t understand all of it, but it was still amazing! And your social media posts? Super inspiring! You’re always sharing interesting stuff, and the way you talk about your work is just—ahhh, so cool! You’re, like, super talented!”

      Your lips parted, struggling to find the right words. “Oh! Thank you!” you finally managed, offering them a small, bashful smile.

      The kid practically beamed, rocking on their heels as they stared up at the two of you with starry-eyed admiration. “Seriously, you guys are amazing!”

      “It was nice meeting you, bye!” They said before running back to where they were, giggling.

      You watched them go, their excitement still bubbling over as they rejoined their friends. A small smile tugged at your lips. Despite the initial interruption, you had to admit, it wasn’t the worst encounter.

      Isagi let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to you with an amused grin. “See? You’re famous too,” he teased.

      You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the warmth in your expression. “Hardly. But… it was kind of nice,” you admitted, glancing down at your intertwined hands. “I’m just not used to it. People always recognize you, not me.”

      Isagi tilted his head slightly, squeezing your hand before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Well, they should. You work just as hard if not more.”

      Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away the remnants of your earlier frustration. He always had this way of making you feel valued, of reminding you that your work, your passion, that you were just as important as everything else.

      No—you were the most important to him. You just didn’t notice it. You didn’t see the way he’d always steal glances at you, the way he needed to constantly be touching at least some part of you, the way he needed at least (if not more) a kiss a day, the way he needed to hear your voice just to get through the week, the way he just needed you.

      You sighed, leaning into him slightly as you resumed walking. Isagi hummed softly, draping an arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close once again. You smiled, letting yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. Even if the world would always pull at him, demanding his time and attention, it all belonged to you.

[eclipixels]

Idk where to post this BUT like, imagine Knull in his prime (back before the universe/light existed and before he got imprisoned)... my hc of younger Knull 😭 idk Sylus from lads just reminds me of him a lot

[eclipixels]

Still The Same

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Despite the millions and the fame, Isagi’s heart is with you, reminding you that no matter how big his dreams get, you’ll always be more important.

[1,729 words]

      You snuggle deeper into the warmth of Isagi’s hoodie, the scent of him lingering on the fabric as you curl up on your bed, eyes fixed on the screen. The first episode of Blue Lock plays, the animation crisp, the stakes high, and your excitement bubbling over.

      Your fingers clutch the oversized sleeves as you watch Isagi meet Noel Noa. Your heart swells with pride. That’s my boyfriend, you think, grinning. If he’s already met Noel Noa, then at this rate, he might actually meet Messi or Ronaldo. The thought makes you giddy.

      A lovesick smile creeps onto your face as you sink deeper into your couch, clutching a pillow to your chest. The dim glow of the TV screen flickers across your face, highlighting the dreamy look in your eyes.

      As if on cue, your phone rings beside you, the familiar ringtone breaking through the quiet hum of the show. You glance at the screen—speak of the devil. Isagi’s name flashes on the display, making your heart skip a beat. With a quick inhale, you pick up your phone.

      “What are you up to, love?” His voice is warm, laced with fondness.

      “Watching Blue Lock,” you respond, stuffing a handful of popcorn into your mouth before swallowing quickly. The buttery taste lingers as you adjust your position, propping your legs up on the couch.

      “Pfft, really?” Isagi laughs, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. You can practically hear the amusement in his voice, picturing the way his lips curl into that boyish grin of his. He finds it adorable how much you support him, how you watch his matches with such admiration.

      “Yeah,” you say, grinning as your eyes stay fixed on the screen. “Can’t believe you met Noel freaking Noa and the rest of Europe’s top five. How are you so cool?”

      “I know, right?” He chuckles, his voice brimming with pride. “But you being my biggest fan is even cooler.”

      Your heart flutters at his words, warmth blooming in your chest like a fire igniting. You immediately pull the hoodie’s collar over your face, burying yourself in its fabric to hide your flustered expression even though he’s not there to see it.

      “Shut up, you’re making me blush,” you mumble, voice slightly muffled.

      “I try,” he teases, his laughter soft and affectionate. “Now don’t watch too much without me, okay?”

      That’s when it hits you.

      Isagi isn’t just your sweet, soccer-obsessed boyfriend anymore. He’s famous.

      Your gaze drifts back to the screen, where Isagi’s animated self is locked in a high-stakes match, his eyes burning with determination. The same boy who used to text you after every practice, complaining about sore legs and asking for your good luck wishes is now someone the whole world is watching.

      Millions of people are screaming for your Isagi, analyzing his plays, idolizing him. Your chest tightens. You’re happy for him, of course you are but you’re also a little scared.

      What if… What if things change?

      “Wait, why’d you go quiet? Are you that mad I told you not to watch without me?” Isagi’s voice pulls you back to reality. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a small smile tugging at your lips. Same old Isagi, you remind yourself. But still, doubt lingers in your mind.

      “Sorry, got distracted,” you murmured, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie as your attention wavered from the show playing on the screen.

      “Okay, well, don’t be distracted when I get there.”

      Your eyes widened slightly. “You’re coming over?”

      “Mhm.” His response was casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

      A smile tugged at your lips. Okay, still the same Isagi.

      The picture that appears showing how much each player has been offered pops up and you search for your boyfriend’s. Yoichi Isagi, 17 million yen.

      Your jaw drops. Seventeen. Million. Yen.

      The number echoes in your mind, almost too absurd to process. That’s more money than either of you have ever had to think about, more than what some people make in years. Your Isagi, the same guy who used to split convenience store sandwiches with you because he was too broke for takeout, is now worth millions.

      “Ichi? 17 million?” Your voice comes out in a stunned whisper, disbelief coating every syllable.

      “17 million? Oh yeah, you’re still on that episode.” He chuckles on the other end, completely unfazed. “Are you okay?”

      “Am I okay? You got offered 17 million yen.”

      “Yeah, wild right?”

      You blink, momentarily speechless at his casual tone. Wild? That’s all he has to say?

      “That’s insane,” you exclaim, gripping your phone tighter. “Do you know what you could do with 17 million yen?”

      “Uh… buy more sandwiches?”

      You groan loudly, flopping back onto your bed as frustration and fondness wage war inside you. Of course that’s his answer. The same guy who used to count coins with you at the convenience store now has enough money to buy out the whole place, and he’s still thinking about sandwiches.

      “I hate you,” you mutter, pressing your palm to your forehead.

      “No, you love me,” he says, smugness dripping from his voice.

      You sigh, knowing he’s right. How could you not?

      By the time he arrived, the two of you had settled in comfortably on the couch, finishing the rest of the episodes that were out. Isagi’s commentary filled in the gaps where the show fell short, giving you behind-the-scenes details that only he could provide. You giggled as you shoved a mix of popcorn and jellybeans into his mouth whenever he paused to breathe, earning playful grumbles in return.

      Eventually, he shifted, laying his head on your lap, his body stretching out across the couch. His warmth seeped through the fabric of your hoodie, grounding you in the moment.

      “Hey… do you ever think about how different things are now?” You peered down at him, fingers absently running through his dark hair.

      “What do you mean?” he asked absentmindedly, eyes fluttering shut under your gentle touch.

      You hesitated, biting your lip as your fingers hovered over your phone, debating whether to type out your thoughts or just say them aloud. After a moment, you decided. “You’re basically famous now.”

      “Hm.” He hummed, cracking one eye open. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about it, but yeah. It is different.”

      You swallowed, watching him, but before your mind could spiral with overthinking, he continued.

      “But some things don’t change.”

      Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

      “Like how I still wanna talk to you after a long day. Or how I’d rather be in your arms than doing interviews. Or how you look really cute in my hoodie right now.”

      Your cheeks burned instantly.

      “I think no matter how big things get, I’m still me.” His voice softened, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your wrist. “And you’re still my favorite person.”

      Your heart clenched in the best way possible as an uncontrollable smile broke out on your face. The warmth in his gaze made you melt even more as he lifted your hand that had been playing with his hair and pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles.

      Yeah. Some things really didn’t change.

      “Mm,” he hums in contentment, burying his face against your stomach.

      “You’re clingy tonight,” you tease.

      “’M tired,” he mumbles, pressing a slow, lazy kiss against your hip. “Missed you.”

      Your heart does a stupid little flip. “We hung out yesterday”

      “Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he argues, voice muffled as he plants another kiss on your exposed skin. It was only for a few hours which wasn’t enough for him. His lips are warm, lingering, making your stomach flutter. “Wanna be close to you.”

      But, his voice softens. “What about you?”

      “Hm?” You look down, watching the way his fingers trace lazy circles on your thigh.

      “Your future,” he murmurs. “What do you wanna do? Where do you see yourself in, like, five years?”

      You blink, caught off guard. Isagi usually talks about his dreams, but rarely does he ask about yours with such quiet intensity. You mean, he did know what career you planned to go into but you never really went in depth about it all as much as he does about his.

      You pause, thinking. He smiles at that, but there’s something soft in his gaze as he listens to you ramble about your passions, your dreams, the places you want to go, the things you want to try. Isagi just lies there, pressed close, drinking in your words like they’re the most important thing he’s ever heard.

      Then, as your voice trails off, he sighs, fingers tightening around your waist.

      “Sounds nice,” he murmurs.

      You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “Yeah?”

      “Yeah.” A beat of silence. “Am I gonna be in it?”

      “Of course,” You laugh, shocked he’d even ask.

      “Dream as big as you want love, I got you,” He snickered, watching you roll your eyes. “Because my offer is currently at 150 million.”

      Your brain short-circuits.

      “What?”

      Isagi, the absolute menace, just yawns like he didn’t just say something insane. “Mhm. A club’s willing to pay 150 million for me.”

      You physically push him up, hands gripping his shoulders. “Are you joking right now? How are you so calm about that?”

      He laughs, catching your hands before you can shake him anymore. So feisty.

      “Because it doesn’t change anything,” he says, voice light but sure. “It just means I’m getting closer.”

      You stare at him, heart pounding. His eyes gleam, not with arrogance, but with the same hunger he’s always had since he first touched a soccer ball. You exhale, a mix of disbelief and pride swelling in your chest. Then, with zero warning, you grab his face and press a firm kiss to his lips.

      He startles slightly but melts into it instantly, grinning against your mouth. “What was that for?”

      “For being absolutely insane,” you mumble. “And for still wanting to cuddle in my lap like a big baby.”

      Isagi huffs a laugh, nudging his nose against yours. “Well, duh.”

      He leans in again, capturing your lips in another soft, lingering kiss. And despite the sheer madness of what he just told you, despite the life-changing amount of money being thrown his way—

      He’s still here. With you.

[eclipixels]

Believe

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: You’ve known since childhood that Isagi had something unique about him and you see it evolve into something greater as you both grow up

[1,658 words]

      You first meet Yoichi Isagi on a warm spring afternoon, the sun dipping into the horizon as the neighborhood kids scatter across the small park. You’re barely more than five, a child with scraped knees and tiny hands grasping at the world, and so was he. A boy with messy black hair and bright blue eyes that sparkle with something fierce, something unshakable.

      He’s different from the others, you realize quickly. Not because he’s taller or stronger, but because there’s something about the way he looks at things. Sharp, calculating, even at such a young age. While other kids chase soccer balls mindlessly, kicking them without care, Yoichi watches. He waits. He moves like he’s already thought five steps ahead.

      And when he finally kicks the ball, it’s with precision that no five-year-old should have.

      “That was amazing!” you say, running up to him, eyes wide with awe.

      He grins at you, a little bashful but proud. “You think so?”

      “Yeah! How did you do that?”

      He tilts his head, thinking for a moment before shrugging. “I just… saw where the ball should go.”

      From that day on, you’re inseparable.

      Growing up with Isagi means seeing that fire in him up close, the way his eyes light up whenever he plays, how his face scrunches in concentration when he’s dribbling, the sheer exhilaration when he scores a goal.

      But it’s not just soccer. You notice it in everything he does.

      “Y/N, you should move your queen there,” he says one day while you play a simple game of chess against the computer.

      “Huh? Why?”

      “If you move here,” he taps a spot on the board, “you’ll be able to set up a checkmate in three moves.”

      You stare at him, confused. “How do you even see that?”

      He shrugs again, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I just do.”

      You don’t realize it then, but you’re witnessing the earliest traces of his brilliance, the way he sees the world and processes things at a level most kids don’t.

      You leaned back in your chair, the frustration building up as you stared at the assignment in front of you. No matter how hard you tried, the numbers and equations just didn’t make sense. The page felt like it was mocking you, the lines blurring together as your mind scrambled to find some semblance of logic.

      “I don’t get it,” you huffed, pushing the paper aside and letting your forehead drop to the desk in defeat.

      Yoichi, who had been sitting across the room with his own work, glanced up at the sound of your frustration. He hesitated for a moment, but then stood up and walked over to your desk, his usual calm expression on his face.

      “What’s got you stuck?” he asked, his voice steady, with that familiar, reassuring tone that somehow always managed to settle the storm inside of you.

      You gestured at the paper, still feeling a little embarrassed. “This whole thing. I don’t even know where to start.”

      Isagi leaned over your desk, his eyes scanning the page for only a second before he tilted his head slightly, like he was figuring out the best way to explain it. There was something about the way he processed things, it wasn’t just that he understood; it was that he could break them down so easily, so naturally.

      “Okay,” he began, sitting down beside you, “let’s look at it like this.” He grabbed a pencil, and with quick, practiced movements, he began drawing simple diagrams on the side of your paper. His hand moved fluidly, as though he wasn’t just doing math, he was painting a picture, shaping the solution into something that was easy for you to see.

      Your hands accidently brushed up against each other as he explained, but he didn’t move it. He kept his pinky finger crossed over yours. Your cheeks were now dusted with red.

      You watched him, your frustration ebbing away as you listened to him explain in the simplest terms, breaking down the concepts like you were piecing together a puzzle. He didn’t rush you, didn’t make you feel dumb for not getting it right away. Instead, his focus was entirely on you, guiding you through it.

      “I think I get it now,” you said, blinking in surprise. You sat up straighter, finally able to follow along, feeling a little bit of pride in yourself. “That wasn’t so bad once you explained it.”

      Yoichi smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with warmth. You couldn’t help but smile back, your heart skipping a beat at how effortlessly he helped you, how easily he made everything seem clearer. You found yourself wondering, as you always did, how it was that he could see things so clearly, not just in math or soccer, but in everything.

      And as you looked up at him, eyes still bright with the spark of understanding, you also wondered how he saw you.

      Was it the same way he saw the game? With that sharp, calculating mind that noticed things no one else did? Or was it something different, something warmer?

      And while you admire him, he never makes you feel small. If anything, he shares his world with you, pulling you into his orbit, encouraging you, supporting you, making you feel like you belong right there beside him. You couldn’t help but start to fall for him because of it.

      By middle school, Yoichi Isagi wasn't just a boy who liked soccer. He was a boy who breathed it.

      You see it in the way he spends hours on the field, practicing until sweat soaks through his uniform, in the way he mutters strategies under his breath, imagining plays no one else would think of.

      “I want to be the best,” he confesses to you one evening, sitting on the swings after practice.

      The streetlights hum softly above, casting long shadows on the pavement.

      You swing your feet idly, looking at him. “You already are amazing, Yoichi.”

      He shakes his head, frustrated. “Not enough. Not yet.”

      There’s something intense in his eyes, an almost desperate hunger. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. It fascinated you. What was going on inside of his head? And so, you stay by his side, watching as he chases his dream, as he pushes himself harder, as he starts to shine, hoping you could understand. You tried to push away the desires of your heart, as analytical as he was, you hoped he wouldn’t figure it out.

      By the time high school rolls around, Isagi isn’t just good. He’s phenomenal.

      You watch as he weaves through defenders effortlessly, as he scores goals that leave the crowd breathless. You hear the murmurs in the stands, the whispers about his vision, his strategy, his sheer genius. You see the way his teammates look at him, not just as a player, but as a leader. As someone destined for something greater.

      So when he lost nationals, it almost broke him. Almost.

      You find him sitting alone on the bleachers, staring up at the stars. His usual fire is still there, but there’s exhaustion too, something quieter, something more vulnerable. It was obvious he was devastated about the loss.

      You sit beside him without a word.

      After a while, he speaks. “Do you ever think about the future, Y/N?”

      You glance at him. “Sometimes.”

      He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes I wonder if… if I’ll make it.”

      You frown. “Yoichi.”

      “No,” he murmurs. “I push myself so hard, but what if it’s not enough?”

      You grab his hand without thinking. “It will be enough. You will make it.”

      “How do you know that?” His mind raced, unable to grasp how anyone be so certain. How could anyone know for sure? What guarantee did he really have that everything he was working for, everything he had poured himself into, would be enough? That he wasn’t just fooling himself into chasing an impossible dream?

      “Because I know you, Yoichi. And I’ve seen you.” You say sternly, recalling every moment since you met him where he proved to be unique and exceptional.

      His breath caught in his throat, and for the first time, you saw that glimmer of vulnerability flicker in his eyes, the one that made him seem so human in spite of everything he’d achieved. For a moment, he didn’t speak, didn’t even blink—just looked at you. Really looked at you, as though he was seeing you for the first time. Why did you always know the right words to say?

      His body moved on its own, an impulse too strong to control. One heartbeat, two heartbeat, until he closed the distance between you, and before you could even process the moment, his lips were pressed against yours. It was soft at first, like he was testing the waters, unsure of whether this was real, whether it was right. But then, as if that one touch unlocked something deep within him, the kiss deepened, full of yearning and warmth, like he was pouring everything he felt into it. The years of self-doubt, the pressures of the world, the overwhelming expectations, they all seemed to melt away in that single, breathless moment.

      He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, and his breath came in soft, uneven pants. “You always believe in me,” he whispered, his voice so raw and vulnerable that it sent a shiver down your spine.

      You were left stunned, your heart hammering in your chest as you struggled to comprehend what had just happened. The world around you seemed to blur as you tried to catch your breath, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind and the rhythmic rise and fall of your own lungs. The stillness of the night enveloped you, the crickets chirping in the distance.

      It seemed as if the stars in the sky themselves were watching you two.

[eclipixels]

Push-ups

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Watching Isagi workout

[1,115 words]

      You lean casually against the cool, steel railing of the gym, your arms folded across your chest as you watch Isagi relentlessly power through another grueling set of exercises. The harsh light of the gym catches his damp, dark hair, which sticks to his forehead with sweat as his breath comes in steady, controlled bursts, betraying the effort behind his seemingly effortless focus.

      Lately, it’s like he’s been driven by some unspoken force, pushing himself harder than ever before, determined to cultivate the strength to match his fiery determination on the field. His usual confidence has taken on a sharper edge. His body isn’t just a tool for playing soccer anymore; it’s becoming a testament to his dedication, his unyielding willpower. And honestly, it’s impossible to tear your eyes away.

      You can’t help but watch as his muscles flex with every deliberate movement, the veins in his forearms becoming more prominent as he lifts the heavy weights. His biceps tighten with each rep, and your eyes trace the way his core ripples with effort as he powers through set after set of sit-ups. The way his chest rises and falls, the way his breath grows deeper and heavier with each exertion—it’s mesmerizing. The sheer intensity in his gaze as he focuses, the way his lips press into a thin line of concentration, it all adds up to something that’s almost too much to handle.

      And let’s be honest—it’s ridiculously attractive.

      "You're staring," Isagi comments between sets, his voice playful but teasing. A small smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, though he doesn't even slow down, pushing through his workout like he’s trying to prove something to both himself and you. The weight of the dumbbells in his hands doesn’t seem to matter as he digs deeper into his resolve.

      You scoff, the corner of your mouth curling into a subtle, deflective smile. "You're imagining things," you retort, trying to play it cool, though your heart betrays you, hammering a little faster than you'd like.

      "Yeah?" He sets the dumbbells down with a soft clank, rolling his shoulders back with a slight grunt as he turns toward you. His eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in his sapphire gaze practically daring you to admit the truth. His shirt clings to his torso, now drenched in sweat, leaving very little to the imagination. A shiver runs through you as your eyes inadvertently flicker down his toned physique.

      "Then why are you blushing?" he presses, his grin turning a little too victorious for your liking. The smirk on his face could only be described as devilish.

      Your face heats up, the blood rushing to your cheeks before you can even try to mask it. His grin widens, and there's an undeniable satisfaction in his expression. He's caught you. But before you can muster a witty comeback, he strides closer, his presence consuming the space between you. Without warning, his hand flicks lightly against your forehead, playful yet somehow intimate.

      "You like watching me, huh?" His voice is low now, teasing, laden with a self-assured confidence that borders on cocky. And in a way, you almost admire the way he can switch from exhaustion to full-blown flirtation with such ease.

      You roll your eyes, desperate to recover some semblance of composure. With a quick shove at his shoulder, you mutter, "Shut up and get back to work, Ichi."

      He chuckles under his breath, rubbing his messy hair and offering you that infuriatingly endearing grin of his. "You just want to go back to watching me," he says, his tone still brimming with playful challenge, the words hanging in the air like an open invitation.

      “And what if I do?” you shoot back, your heart thumping a little faster as the playful tension between the two of you thickens.

      Without missing a beat, he’s back to it, pushing himself harder, lifting more weight, running through drills with even more determination than before. Each movement is sharper, more precise, as if he’s somehow aware of the way you’re watching, perhaps using it as fuel to drive himself even further.

      You can’t help but laugh, a small smile tugging at your lips as you shake your head, amazed at how effortlessly he can blend effort with charm. He’s impossible to ignore, and, much to your dismay, you're completely captivated.

      As the minutes stretch on, your eyes can’t help but track the way his muscles ripple and tense, the rhythm of his breathing almost hypnotic. It’s clear now that he’s not just working for himself. He’s showing off, putting on a display just for you, though it’s wrapped up in the guise of hard work and determination.

      You want to look away, to give him his space, but something in you knows you wouldn’t be able to. You’re hooked.

      Somewhere along the way, the dynamic shifts a little. For some reason, he decided to make you a part of his workout and now his hands carefully gripped your sides. He was bench pressing you.

      You can't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you.

      Isagi only smirks as he brings you back up, his arms pushing through the effort, his breath quickening. “Hi”

      “Ichi, put me down.” You giggled.

      As you’re brought back down once more, he leans closer, a smirk still on his face. He places you on the floor before climbing on top. Your face warms up at the compromising position but he just starts doing push ups.

      At first, you're too stunned to react, your heart skipping multiple beats when he pushes down to have his lips meet yours once more.The kisses are brief, playful, and it sends a jolt through you.

      "Is this necessary?" you gasp between breaths, your heart racing as you stare up at him in disbelief.

      He chuckles, lowering himself down again, his lips brushing against yours as if he’s done it a thousand times before. “Extremely, otherwise I won’t get stronger”

      The smirk on his face is almost devilish, that confident twinkle back in his eyes. He’s clearly enjoying every second of this, and you were too. The cycle continues—he lowers himself down, kisses you, and pushes himself back up again. Each time, the kiss grows a little bolder, the warmth of his lips against yours igniting something inside you, making it harder to focus on the workout and easier to get lost in the love between you two.

      By the time he finally lifts you for the last time, your head is spinning, and your heart is racing at the speed of light. “I think we’ve done enough for today,” he says, a satisfied grin on his face.

[eclipixels]

Broke Kids

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Blurb about being broke as teens but being spoiled as an adult

[848 words]

      As a teenager, you and Isagi, like most of your friends, were always struggling to get by. You didn’t have much to your name, most of you didn’t even have jobs, relying on your parents’ allowances to cover the bare necessities. Your hangouts were simple affairs, usually in the park, where you’d snack on whatever you could afford. A cup of instant ramen, a shared bag of chips, or the occasional treat from the local convenience store were often the extent of your meal options. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was enough to make the best of your time together.

      One day, after an exhausting school day, you found yourselves at the public park movie screening. It was one of those nights where the air was just cool enough for you to huddle together, sharing a sense of familiarity and comfort. You had your usual cup of ramen in hand, slurping the noodles as you sat beside Isagi, who was doing the same. The low hum of chatter around you was a backdrop to the quiet companionship you shared.

      After a moment of silence, Isagi broke it, his voice carrying a playful yet slightly strained tone, something that had always been there, a drive in his words. “Y/N,” he began, glancing over at you with that familiar glint in his eyes. “One day, I’m going to spoil you. I’ll take you out on proper dates. We’ll go to fancy restaurants, buy you whatever you want.”

      You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, glancing back at him with a grin of your own. “Ichi, I already have everything I want.”

      Leaning into him, you placed a quick peck on his lips, which were stained from the ramen, feeling the warmth of his closeness.

      His eyes softened, a bright smile spreading across his face. “How did I get so lucky with you?” he asked, a little grin tugging at his lips.

      That was the start of your first year of high school, back when life felt simple, and the future was full of potential. Things have certainly changed since those days. Isagi’s passion and relentless drive eventually paid off. He went from a teenager with big dreams to a professional soccer player, steadily rising through the ranks and making his way toward the World Cup. Meanwhile, you continued to support him every step of the way, always cheering him on, but also staying grounded in your own responsibilities. You worked hard, holding down your own job, doing what you needed to do to make life work.

      One evening, you were sitting on the couch, casually scrolling through your phone, when you heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him; Isagi always had this rhythm when he came home, a kind of step that you knew so well. Not long after, he appeared in front of you, his face lighting up with an unmistakable grin.

      “Got you something, love,” he said, practically dancing toward you, his excitement palpable. He placed a small, neatly wrapped box onto your lap with the kind of energy that only Isagi seemed to possess.

      You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s this?” you asked, glancing between him and the box.

      Without missing a beat, Isagi sat down beside you, nudging your shoulder. “Open it,” he urged, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

      You carefully peeled away the wrapping, your fingers trembling slightly as the reality of what was inside began to sink in. A stunning necklace, one that you’d only ever seen in high-end stores, lay nestled within the box. You were speechless for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as you looked up at him, stunned.

      “Ichi, you didn’t have to…” You trailed off, overwhelmed with emotion, unable to find the words to express how much the gesture meant to you.

      Isagi’s grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling with that same mischievous spark that had always been there. “I told you, didn’t I?” he said, his voice full of pride. “I said I’d spoil you rotten.”

      A soft laugh escaped your lips, you held the necklace in your hands, feeling the weight of it, not just as a material gift, but as a symbol of how far you both had come. Isagi had kept his promise in the most beautiful way.

      Later that evening, Isagi took over dinner. He had booked a reservation at an upscale restaurant, a far cry from the simple snacks you once shared in the park. Over the years, he has found countless ways to treat you like royalty—luxury dresses, spontaneous vacations, flowers, jewelry, and so much more. While the gifts were extravagant, what truly mattered to you was the love behind them. You never cared about the money; what touched you the most was the fact that someone loved you so deeply and wholeheartedly, as if every little gesture was a reminder of that love. That, to you, was the real meaning of being spoiled.

[eclipixels]

Watch

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Blurb on Isagi accidentally finding your little journal about him

[540 words]

      For as long as you've admired Isagi Yoichi, not just as a person but as a player, you've meticulously documented his growth. From the very first moment you watched him play to his evolution into the striker he is today, your notebook has been filled with notes, diagrams, and observations. Every match analyzed, every new skill logged, every moment of brilliance immortalized in ink.

      And now, that very notebook was in his hands.

      You freeze in the doorway, heart lurching into your throat as Isagi flips through the pages. His eyebrows are slightly raised, a soft, almost amused smile tugging at his lips as he scans over your careful handwriting. Fuck.

      "Ichi" you start, voice unsure, but he doesn't look up right away. Instead, he turns another page, eyes tracing over the diagram you drew of his Direct Shot, complete with foot placement and trajectory angles.

      "You really wrote all this?" he finally asked, glancing up at you. His voice isn’t teasing, nor is it accusing. There’s a warmth in his tone, a kind of gentle wonder that makes your stomach flip.

      You swallow hard, stepping closer despite the embarrassment curling through your chest. "I—I was just... keeping track of your progress."

      His fingers glide over the page, pausing at a section labeled Meta Vision: Activation & Usage. You remember writing that one late at night, rewatching his matches, trying to break down the exact moment his field awareness expanded beyond human limits.

      "You figured it out when I first used it," he murmurs, a chuckle escaping him. "Even I didn’t realize it was happening back then."

      Your face feels impossibly hot. "Oh."

      At that, Isagi finally closes the notebook, but he doesn’t put it down. Instead, he holds it gently, almost reverently, like it’s something precious. Then, he steps closer, closing the space between you until you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

      "You really pay this much attention to me?" His voice is quieter now, more intimate. There’s no teasing in his gaze, just pure, unfiltered affection.

      You hesitate, then nod. 

      His fingers tighten slightly around the notebook before he carefully sets it down on your desk. When he looks at you again, there’s something new in his expression.

      "That’s so fucking adorable. Thank you," he says, and you know he’s not just talking about the notes. "It means a lot."

      Before you can respond, he reaches out, fingers grazing against yours. It’s tentative, almost shy, but it sends a jolt of warmth up your arm.

      "You’re incredible, you know that?" His voice carries that same wonder he had when reading your notes. "I don’t think anyone’s ever believed in me like this before."

      Your breath catches. "Ichi..."

      He holds your face in his head, his baby blue eyes filled with affection. “I love you” 

      “I love you, too.” You giggle, leaning into his touch.

      He doesn’t let go. Instead, he smiles, that bright, determined, breathtaking smile that first made you fall for him.

      "I’ll keep proving to you that I’m worth all this effort," he says, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. "So... keep watching me, okay?"

      Like he even has to ask.

      You’ve been watching him all this time.

      And you always will.

[eclipixels]

can I request bllk x reader where the reader likes working out and ahe sent them a photo of her new workout fit

Fit Check

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Rin Itoshi

Content: Blue Lock boys react...to you sending them a photo of your new workout fit

[eclipixels]

Flow

Characters: Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi

Content: Sae recalls the moments he noticed Rin in the flow state growing up

      In the Flow

      From the moment Rin Itoshi could run, he had a habit of sticking out his tongue whenever he was completely absorbed in something. It started when he was a toddler, chasing after a ball Sae had lazily rolled in his direction. His tiny legs wobbled, his arms flailed for balance, and there it was—his tongue, peeking out ever so slightly as if it helped him concentrate.

      Sae noticed it again when they were kids playing in the neighborhood park. Rin dribbled past imaginary defenders, weaving between patches of grass and dirt with a ball too big for his small frame. His tongue jutted out just a little, eyes sharp with a focus far beyond his years. Sae never said anything about it, but he always watched. It was ridiculous, in a way. Childish. And yet, he never once saw Rin do it when he wasn’t completely in the flow.

      Sae recalls the time in the park when Rin had found a stick and was carefully drawing in the dirt. The dark haired boy was focused, deeply focused, on something only he could see. There it was, his tongue sticking out, not in a goofy way, but with determination.

      Rin was drawing a complex series of shapes, his hand moving swiftly, eyes locked on the makeshift canvas in front of him. Sae leaned in, watching as Rin’s mind raced ahead of his hands, constructing something intricate and precise. It was like he was designing something important, and that small, childish gesture, sticking his tongue out, was just a side effect of being absorbed in his own world.

      Even when he was just playing with his toys in their bedroom, little plastic dinosaurs clutched in Rin’s chubby baby hands, he had that same expression.

      As they grew older, the sight became more frequent. Rin was obsessed, always practicing, always chasing after Sae’s shadow, his tongue making that same appearance every time he lost himself in the rhythm of the game. Sae would pretend not to notice, but a small part of him found it amusing. Another part of him found it annoying. Because he knew exactly what it meant. Rin wasn’t playing for fun anymore. He was chasing him.

      Then came the split. The fights. The years apart.

      Sae thought he had outgrown caring about things like that. He had bigger things to focus on, bigger goals than watching his little brother stick out his tongue like a fool. And yet, during the U-20 match, when he saw Rin with that same expression, that same absorbed intensity, he felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest. Sae just wished Rin’s drive came from his own ambitions, not just the burning desire to prove himself to his older brother. He wanted Rin to play for his own sake. But Sae knew there was still a long road ahead before that would happen.

[eclipixels]

Right Here (Kaneki Ken x Reader)

(Based on the peep song+from Kaneki’s perspective slight mentions of blood/gore/death)

Kaneki wiped blood away from his mouth, brows furrowing as his ringtone disturbed the silence. His face changed into a soft smile once he noticed whos name had popped up. 

“Hey.” He muttered into the speaker once picking up, he couldn’t stop the smile that came across his face when he heard your reply. “Whats wrong?” It was pretty late. “I feel lonely.” Came your small voice, Kaneki’s face changed into one of worry. 

“I’ll be right there.” He replied before hanging up, he looked down at the two mangled bodies in front of him. He couldn’t stand cocky ghouls, he quickly fled the scene to return to you. 

He had told you what he really was long ago, you watched him turn from a quiet book nerd into a colder man. Yet he still loved you with everything, that had been the one constant. After you had confessed to him, after he had hidden himself from you and Hide you two became inseparable.

You had promised to not breathe a word about him, even though you had seen it eating Hide up. Kaneki had been grateful, you had proven you loved him no matter what.

He finally got to your balcony, rapping his knuckles gently on the door. He smiled once he saw your figure approaching him. He patiently waited for you to open the door and quickly walked in, pulling you into his chest.

He adored everything about you, he could get through anything as long as he could see you smile. His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, fingers gently running across your cheek bone. 

“Better?” You nodded, pushing yourself into his chest. You were the one thing he couldn’t bare to be away from. But he knew he couldn’t stay around forever, people would come looking for him eventually.

He was in deep with Aogiri and didn’t think he could get out, didn’t know if he could live a normal life after all he had done. “Your thinking too hard.” Kaneki laughed, finally pulling your face towards his. 

“We should pack away a bag and run away.” You bit your lip, Kaneki hadn’t meant to say it out loud, he had been thinking it for a while but he didn’t think you would do it. 

“Okay.” Kaneki froze, you wanted to. Kaneki couldn’t help but press himself back against your lips. You could run far away, to a whole other world.

[eclipixels]

[2:30 pm]: “AAAAH!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs causing your boyfriend to come running to you. “What’s wrong?!” Kaneki asked worriedly. You quickly hide behind him and point to big black dot on the wall. “Spider!!” You cry out. Kaneki stiffens and stutters out, “W-what do you want me to do?!” “Kill it! Release it! I don’t care!! Just get it out of here!” You whine. The spider moves and you both jolt. “Kanekiiii!!” You whine more. Kaneki sweats nervously. “I can’t it’s too scary!” You look at the black haired boy in disbelief. “You said you didn’t fear spiders!!” You retort as you hit his shoulder. “I only said that to impress you!” He admits pathetically. You groan loudly and look back and the spider is gone. You both scream and make a run to your shared room while screaming out, “CALL HIDE!! CALL HIDE!!!!”

[eclipixels]

may you pls do hcs how juuzou, kaneki(pre-ghoul) and urie having bath with fem!reader

i love this very much

Juuzou Suzuya

100% Juuzou's idea. he wanted a bath time buddy and how could you say no to him? neither of you were nervous; excited would be a better word

you'd wash each others hair and play with the bubbles like children, it's very wholesome

Juuzou would kiss your nose sometimes, for no reason; he just thinks you look really cute with your hair all wet (he'd tickle you as well, which made you giggle so much your stomach would hurt)

the two of you stay in the tub until your fingers and toes are all wrinkly; you just get carried away talking about anything and everything

Juuzou is very energetic so he never stopped talking; he literally has the mannerisms of a child, but you love it. not a very relaxing bath, but definitely a fun one

Ken Kaneki

Kaneki got so red when you asked him to join you, but you reassured him by saying it would relaxing

he was very hesitant- the idea of seeing you naked made him nervous- but he agreed anyway

once you got him in the tub, he was actually quite calm. the warm water and soft scent of lavender slowed his heart a little (although his face was red the entire time)

you would gently wash his back, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek every now and then. it was kind of like a "let me help you relax" bath, because of how gentle you were with him; kissing his cheek or his neck, massaging his shoulders, etc.

there was a lot of cuddling as well (you cuddling him of course, it's Kaneki what did you expect). he even fell asleep for a few minutes and was a little disappointed when you woke him up

Kuki Urie

Urie was a little shocked to have you ask if he wanted to take a bath with you, but of course, he didn't say no

even though it was your idea, you were more nervous than he was (in all reality, he wasn't nervous at all)

to see him naked made you blush, but he thought it was cute and would tease you for getting red (similar to Kaneki's hcs but the roles are reversed)

Urie ended up bathing you; you were just really nervous all of a sudden, so he calmed you down by washing your hair and massaging your back

he asked if you could to the same to him, which only made you more nervous, so he would guide your hands through his hair and down his chest. overall, a very intimate bath, but one you wouldn't mind having again

[eclipixels]

HAECHAN FIC RECS NAVI

SERIES ONESHOTS DRABBLES TEXTS

TIMESTAMPS BULLETPOINTS

❥ NCT MASTERLIST

❥ MAIN MASTERLIST