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hanyjar · 1 year ago

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rain sucks. (i'll make you love it.)

isagi yoichi x reader

summary: your story with isagi yoichi, told through five moments, a bus stop, and rain.

notes: [6.25k words.] idk if isagi lovers still exist, but in the wise words of taylor swift: this is me trying ;)

disclaimers: cursing, reader hates the rain and likes to talk, break up with an ex (not isagi) in part one, loneliness in 'one' and four', self doubt in 'five' but isagi is quick to comfort, fluff -> angst -> fluff, rain kisses, romantic gestures, strangers -> friends -> lovers.

edit: isagi likes rain here (as opposed to the info given in the light novel T_T so very sorry ahh)

masterlist.

ONE.

It has been a bad day.

No. That’s putting it too lightly. Today, June 20th, is the very epitome of shit.

The heated argument you had with your now ex-partner continues to linger in your mind. “I think we’ve been wasting our time” plays on loop like a broken record, and you wonder if you look as lifeless as you feel.

It’s quite a silly thing: how a single person can make you feel as if the whole world is ending. It’s even sillier how you devoted all this effort into a relationship that is nothing but a waste of time to them.

Waste of time.

Even after they crushed your already tattered heart and left it for dead, you can’t help but think how much easier it would be if you feel that way about them too.

Love is a stupid, stupid thing.

You appreciate mother nature for taking pity on you, at least. Rain in the midst of summer has never been your favourite thing - the air always being a little too hard to breathe and the dreary sky a tell-tale sign that the bus is going to be late that day. But today, you feel okay towards rain. The tears from the heavens above do well to cover up your own; the droplets become friends, accompanying you in your forlorn state. For once, you don’t complain about the broken roof at the bus stop letting rain in. For once, you find comfort in the very thing you hate.

And you cry a little bit inside, knowing that your ex has managed to break that part of you as well.

“...Bad day?” A voice breaks you free from your stupor.

You turn to your left, and you feel your breath being taken away.

There, a stranger stands. From first glance, the boy is nothing but ordinary. His navy - almost black - hair did little to set him apart from the rest of the crowd, and he dons the same Ichinan uniform that you (and the multitude of students in the area) wear. But there is something within his cerulean eyes. A fervour of sorts, one that is begging to be unleashed for the whole world to see. To the untrained eye, he is the very essence of average; to a trained eye, the stranger is utterly beautiful.

…Or, that’s what you would say, if he didn’t look like a wet cat. Not the ones featured in those animal shampoo commercials, but one of the sad, pathetically cute, on the verge of tears, literally sopping wet ones. Your breath is taken away, simply because the boy is a mess.

You can’t help but think that this stranger has had a shit day, too.

“Like you have no idea.” You say, voice drenched in exasperation. “Though… You look like you’ve been through a nightmare yourself.”

“A nightmare is an understatement,” he cradles his left temple with his palm. You laugh at his antics.

“Try me, then. Nothing can be worse than getting dumped, right?”

The smile on his face immediately falls, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for dropping a bomb like that to a stranger. “My god.” He exhales, “I am so sorry.” His crestfallen expression makes you feel as if he truly means those words.

“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” Your eyes look down to the soiled concrete. “I’ll be fine, time will pass, after all.” (You say that more to yourself than him, if anything.)

The bus stop is silent for a while, and you feel as if you’ve ruined everything - for the second time today. It’s almost as if the bus stop boy knows, and is eager to change that.

“Well. My name is Isagi Yoichi,” he begins. “And my soccer coach told me that I am mediocre at best; that I don’t have what it takes to do what I love professionally.”

You look into his eyes once more, and the fervour that was once there is now shrouded in a sense of agony you know all too well. The same agony that is, without a doubt, present in your eyes too. Words fail you. And for the years you have shrugged as the therapist friend, you find yourself at a genuine loss.

“...I guess we’re in the same boat then.” You muster out, lamely. “But are you seriously going to let some old geezer tell you what to do with your life? I mean, he’s literally the coach of a no-name highschool team.” Your hands make their way onto Isagi’s, clasping his in-between yours. “Your coach has no right to tell you that when he’s failed at that dream already. Don’t let your coach dictate your worth; don’t let him stop you from shining. Ever.”

He stares at your hands for a second, eyes widened and mouth agape. You are quick to detach yourself from him. “Forgive me,” a sheepish smile grows on your face.” “I speak too much sometimes.”

“No need,” Isagi’s hand moves to rest on the nape of his neck. “Thank you. I needed to hear that today, I think.”

Isagi smiles boyishly. It suits him.

“It’s no problem.” You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, suddenly feeling bashful at his gratitude. “Adults like that? They think they rule the world, but in reality—”

The squeaking of tires interrupts you, and the bus arrives exactly eleven minutes late.

“That’s my cue,” you say, and for a second, you could swear that Isagi seems disappointed. You make your way towards the bus, head turning towards his way before you get on board. “Thanks for the chat, stranger. I’ll see you around.”

You make your way through the barren bus, the driver eyeing you up-and-down for your soaked figure. And just like that, uncertainty and dejection return in waves. Talking to Isagi was a good distraction and all, but you can’t forget that your partner of two years just fucking broke up with you. You are alone now.

You want nothing more than to sleep it all off. This feeling of loneliness is a type that you would not wish on anyone - even your worst enemy. (Well, maybe someone. Your ex, being the said someone. But you like to think that is just the anger talking.)

“Hey!” Isagi’s voice echoes out. Like a ray of sunlight breaking through the grey skies of your mind, it is his turn to make your eyes widen; his voice bypassing the sheet of glass separating you two and reaching the storm that surrounds your heart. “Don’t let that past relationship stop you from shining too, okay?”

…Perhaps, you aren’t so alone after all.

The bus sets off, and Isagi sees you smile at him through the rain-stricken window. The boy hopes that his sentiments have reached you; he hopes that you’ll follow the same advice that you’ve given him.

But above all else, he hopes that he will see you again.

TWO.

“I hate this bus stop and its stupid roof.”

Isagi stops typing away on his phone. “You say that like, all the time nowadays.”

You’ve definitely sucked the life out of that phrase recently, but you take it as a good sign. An indication that you’ve healed.

The relationship that you once held dear is nothing but a mere memory of the past. The countless sleepless nights and time spent wallowing in your own self-doubt have all but ceased to exist. You realised that it simply was not worth your while to cry about a lost love, and to instead surround yourself with the love that remains from those around you. If anything, you are grateful for it: you have grown from that experience tremendously. By no means would you ever consider it to be a waste of time. And in the process?

You garnered a friend. A confidant. That break up led to the beginning of something magical. It led to a friendship with Isagi Yoichi, or, who you like to call, your bus-stop boy.

After the fateful day, you started to notice his presence around more. At first it was in the halls of Ichinan, a mere wave shared between you two here and there. Then the new school year began, and Isagi was shuffled into your homeroom. You began seeing him from once in a while, to literally everyday.

His presence began to bleed more and more into yours, and your lives ended up intertwining together until there was nothing you could do to untangle them. Eventually? Isagi was your deskmate. He was cooking lunch for you, you two eating his homemade lunches together in comfortable silence. You began waiting for his soccer practice to finish, and Isagi would wait by your side at the station until the bus came. A rhythm that you two fell into, almost as easy as breathing.

In your chapter of new beginnings, there is no Isagi Yoichi without you, and there is no you without Isagi Yoichi. An inseparable duo, you two are dubbed as.

You like to think you know a lot about him now. Maybe even go as far as to say you know everything about him, as he knows everything about you.

“It lets the rain in, Isagi.” You whine. “And besides, why is it even raining in Spring? Tsuyu* season isn’t for like, another month or two. There’s no way anyone could like this weather. No way.”

“I don’t know… I don’t mind it every now and then,” he says. “I like rain. I think it’s nice.”

Pause.

Well, maybe you don’t know everything about him.

“What? Since when?” You put your hand on your heart, gasping in mock-offence. “I didn’t know that I’m friends with a traitor.”

He rolls his eyes at you. The audacity. “A traitor, really? Just because I like a bit of rain here and there?”

“It goes deeper than that, Isagi!” You say. (It really doesn’t. You just want an excuse to complain a little, and a sassy Isagi Yoichi is always a fun sight.) “What’s there to like anyways? I don’t get it.”

“I can try to explain it for you, if you’d like.”

“Please do.”

“Have you ever seen what it looks like after it has rained?” He asks. You shake your head in response. You’ve never been the type to stick around long enough to see the sky stop crying. “You should. It’s wonderful, y’know: the glow it leaves afterwards. The streets look like they’ve been reborn - you can literally see the dirt on the concrete being washed away and given another life. If you’re lucky? A rainbow might come and say hi.” Isagi smiles at the little comment he makes.” That sight alone is worth getting your books wet and missing the bus every now and then. And it is just one of many reasons I have, honestly.”

You find yourself smiling at his enthusiasm. It’s cute, when he’s like this. You’re glad that he’s comfortable enough around you to show this side of himself. “I like it when you infodump, Isagi.”

“Did my infodump manage to change your mind?” A tinge of hope emerges in his voice and eyes. You shake your head. The hope is gone just as fast as it came. “Well, maybe the main reason will.”

He gives you a mysterious smile, and proceeds to say nothing.

“Aren’t you going to finish that sentence?”

“Nope, I don’t think I will.” Isagi says. You shoot him an incredulous look. “I’ll tell you… If you don’t fail your social studies paper.”

“Wha— Hey! Now that’s just being mean!”

He laughs. “So then… Why do you hate rain so much, anyways?”

“Changing the subject, really?” You say.

He merely shrugs in response, giving you a teasing grin. “Just roll with it. I promise I’ll tell you,” he pauses. “One day.”

You kick his foot in response, making an impromptu game of footsies ensue.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Isagi lifts his hands up to the side of his head, surrendering in a fit of boyish laughter. “No but really, I’m curious. Why do you hate it so much?”

“I don’t really know. It’s just—“ You stick your leg out precariously, as if the rain is going to melt your foot. “I hate the rain. I always have, and probably always will.”

A lull of silence passes by - not dissimilar to the one that happened on your first meeting with him. It’s different this time, though, as it is not a silence that is born out of two strangers not quite knowing what to say. It went deeper than that, more intimate, more comforting. Isagi puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “Well,” he begins. “One day, I hope I can show you how beautiful rain can be.”

Isagi smiles - a pretty, pretty thing.

There, amongst the dreary skies and wet cherry blossom leaves, is sunlight. Sunlight, in the form of him. Him, the Ichinan forward. Isagi, a boy who has nestled his way into your life almost too easily.

Yoichi, who leaves your heart hammering a bit too fast for comfort.

“Come on, you’re going to miss your bus.” Isagi’s hand finds its way to yours, locking into place like they were made for eachother. “It’s darker than usual. I’ll walk you home today, okay?”

He drags you towards your usual window seat, tapping the two matching keycards you share while entering. Isagi whispers a quick goodnight as he sits on the seat next to yours.

A smile makes its way towards your lips. Warmth filling up your entire body, entire soul.

You adore his sleeping face; you adore him.

Wait. Adore? Uh oh, you think. I might be falling in love.

*Tsuyu: The rainy period in Japan, generally spanning from May to July. The direct translation is ‘plum rain’, because it coincides with the season that plums ripen in Japan.

THREE.

Isagi is the first one to break the silence.

It’s weird, how he called you out to the bus stop out of the blue. Meeting together here in the past was always out of necessity: one born from a desire to go home and to have a chat with your best friend to end the day on a high note. Never, is the meeting at your sanctuary intentional, like it is now.

You couldn’t help but rush to get here. Not when he texted you like that: frantic and brimming with urgency.

“Sorry for making you come all this way, especially at this time of the night.” He says, carefully. As if he is tiptoeing around eggshells. Like you are strangers again. Isagi is never this careful around you, and hasn’t been for a while now. The change of pace perpetuates fear into the depths of your soul like no other.

“It’s fine.” You tentatively look up from your lap, preferring to look at the night sky instead of his face. I’d do anything for you, when you text me like that. “It’s just… Your message; the tone you’re speaking to me in right now. You’re seriously worrying me, Isagi.”

Isagi lets out a sigh, one quivering with nerves and worry. He places a hand onto your clenched ones, rubbing comforting circles onto the dorsal side. That’s weird. You didn’t even realise you were shaking. “You know that letter from the Japan Football Association I got a few days ago? The one we were so excited about?”

“The one I forced you to accept, right?”

“That’s the one.” He smiles fondly at the memory. The one of the two of you in his room, him being at an absolute mental blank, while you - the ever-so lovely you - was crying tears of joy - a stark contrast to the tears you shed earlier that day, watching him lose the qualifiers. You egged him to accept it, because ‘nothing would make you happier than to see him pursue his dreams’, you said. Words that sent an elation of joy to flood across his body, for he didn’t think that he could love you more. “…Well, I went to that address they gave us today. And that letter didn’t exactly tell the whole story. Of what it is, what their goal is.” Isagi continues; you feel a lump beginning to form at the back of your throat. “Yes, it’s a player improvement project. But I have to stay at this camp, I think. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying there, and I can’t contact anyone that’s not a part of it either. All I know is that it starts tomorrow. Officially.”

“What…” You muster out, at a complete loss for words.

“It’s called Blue Lock, and I’m going for it.” He places his unoccupied hand onto his chest, eyes igniting with a kindred spirit like no other. “I think this is my best shot at becoming the best. To play beyond a national level, and make you proud. But…” He pauses, pinching your chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eyes for the first time in this conversation. “I won't go if you don’t want me to. I won’t, and will never do anything that you don’t like. So just say the word, and I’ll stay. Right here, right by your side.”

It hurts so damn bad. All of this, how it is so out of the blue, how there’s a possibility you may never see the boy, who has been such a pivotal aspect of your life for the last year or so, ever again. You want to be supportive - heck, you’d go to war just to see Isagi shine. But it hurts. You love him, for goodness sake. Every bone in your body wants him to stay, to not break the sacred normalcy that you have shared with the man that makes you smile brighter than anyone else can.

But the skies are clear. And the right answer, the solution to all of this, is even clearer.

“You’d have to be stupid to not go.” You say, voice unwavering with confidence. However, your eyes are anything but. “You have to go, Isagi. I don’t want to destroy your dreams like that and ruin the potential you have. I could never live with myself if I made you stay.”

Isagi kisses you on the forehead, once. “Thank you,” Twice. “Thank you, so much.” He leans his forehead against yours, and his teary ones meet your equally watery ones. “I’m going to miss you more than anything. I promise, I’m going to become number one. Just for you.”

“You better.” You chuckle, choking on a sob. “Shine brighter than anyone else, Isagi. I’ll be watching you every step of the way.”

He nods in response, and you stay like that for a while. For minutes, hours, even. Foreheads kissing each other, and staring into his cerulean eyes like it’s the last time you’ll ever see them.

“I never told you the reason, didn’t I?” Isagi breathes out.

“What?”

“The reason why I love rain as much as I do.” He says. You let out a careful no, wondering if he did tell you, and you just weren’t listening.

“It’s because,” Isagi begins, reaching for your right hand and opening it, palm facing up. “It was raining when I met you.” You feel him reach for his back pocket, and Isagi pulls out a pristine white envelope, placing it into your hand. It is sealed with red wax and decorated with golden swirls. Beautiful. Like it came right out of a fairytale. “…And you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your body quivers, and you feel the tears threatening to return again. “You’re so corny,” you say, half-flustered and half-shy. “And I still hate the rain.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, looking at his lips in a way that just friends don’t. “But Isagi, you. You are the best thing that’s happened to me too.”

He looks at your lips too, and you anticipate for something more - to go beyond what you two have built so beautifully. To go beyond friends, and transform into lovers.

Isagi pulls you in for a tight hug instead. You reciprocate. Those thoughts disappear as fast as they came.

“So..” You clench the letter tight within your hands, and you cringe at the feeling of droplets meeting your shoulder. (Truth is, you didn’t know if you were cringing at the fact you wished he had kissed you, or if it is the impending sky-fall. You choose to believe the latter.) “Do I open it now?”

He pulls away from the hug first, and smiles, embarrassment painting his features. “I’d prefer it if you read it later.”

The droplets fasten, quicker and quicker, and Isagi pulls you closer to him, putting you out of the rain’s way. “Oh come on! It has to rain now, out of all times?” You heave a great sigh, burying your head into the nape of his neck.

“It gives us an excuse to stay here for a little while longer, doesn’t it?” He gives you puppy dog eyes.

“As much as I’d love to stay with you all night, it’s getting late,” you say, laughing inwardly. “I don’t want to worry your parents. Actually— have you even told your parents about Blue Lock yet?”

He shakes his head. “No, I wanted you to be the first one to know.”

How sweet. “Then you should hurry home,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t hold you up.”

“You sure?” Isagi holds your hands tighter than before. I don’t want to leave you yet, his eyes scream.

“I’m sure.” You squeeze his hands in response. I don’t want to let you go either, your eyes say.

Isagi leans in once more, bumping your noses together, eyes meeting in a silent agreement. But we have to. And we’ll be okay.

“Promise that you won’t forget me?”

“I could never.”

And so he goes. But you stay. You remain seated, sheltered beneath the shoddy bus-stop. A sense of déjà vu passes, it’s just like all those times before. But it’s almost painful this time. Your bus-stop boy is walking away from you, instead of seeking shelter alongside you. You laugh at yourself, bitterly. You don’t know if you’ll ever move on from him, or if you even want to. Not when your forever-person has pried his way into your heart like this, not when Isagi feels like home.

You pry the wax seal off the letter, unfolding the paper that is encased inside in a hurry, a tinge of excitement coursing through your veins.

‘I still haven’t shown you the beauty of rain. Will you wait for me? Love, Isagi.’

A laugh escapes your lips. Of course you would. You’d wait forever, and forevermore for him. He didn't even have to ask. It’s something that you would’ve done as one would breathe air. And in a way, you realise that there’s a certain calamity to your circumstance.

You love him so much that you’d willingly let Isagi tear down everything you’ve ever known. Whether it may be something silly like your animosity towards rain, or the idea of letting someone love you again. You’d let him do it all.

And that is terrifying. But exquisitely so.

A barrage of steps sounds itself out in the quiet of the night, a figure making its way to you - closer, closer, and closer. Oh god, someones not trying to kill me, are they?

Then you see a familiar sight. A boy with his hair in disarray, black outerwear soaking wet, looking just like the wet cat from your first meeting but this time more mature and more determined, and suddenly he’s pulling you into the rain with him, grasping onto your shoulders, locking his eyes onto yours and oh. He’s kissing you on the lips now.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t leave without kissing you first. I think I’d go crazy if I didn't.”

“I think I’d go crazy too,” you chuckle, resting your head against his chest. “And yeah. Of course I’ll wait for you, dummy.”

“You opened it already?”

“I can’t wait to see how you’ll make me love rain.”

…You should’ve known he would’ve given you that kiss first.

Isagi is not the type to leave you disappointed for too long, after all.

FOUR.

The days seem to blur together in Isagi’s absence.

The last year or so was, for a lack of a better word, lonely. Filled with rumours that you drove your best friend mad and he ran away, or that you murdered Isagi and the police have yet to discover his body, you felt as if the only people in your life for the last few months were your family and Isagi’s parents.

The sudden isolation is getting to you. And you know it. It shows in the dreariness of your demeanour; bears its teeth in the darkening eye bags that have crept their way onto your face. You’re not certain that he will be able to recall your face anymore. Heck, you can’t recognise yourself anymore either. Gosh, who would’ve thought that being Isagi-less for a little while would do this to you?

But today brings something new to the table: hope. Confirmation that all of this waiting has been worth it after all. You’ll get to see him in an hour or two come morning, and it will be enough.

Or, at least, that's the timeframe you predicted last night.

“There have been reports of mass delays in the Saitama Public Transport Network due to heavy storms and rainfall. Civilians can expect their regularly scheduled buses and trains to be postponed for up to two hours or more—“

You throw a pancake at your TV and scream.

The what-would-be one hour trip to Tokyo is now possibly three, and since your butter fingers slipped and set the wrong alarm last night, you are already running late.

You just hope that Isagi’s parents are still waiting for you outside.

Ding!

You reach into your pocket for your phone, and a message from Isagi’s mother illuminates the screen.

‘Sorry, Honey. We left already. Issei is worried that the traffic is going to hold us up from getting to Tokyo in time.’

Great. Just great.

It seems as if the universe is practically begging for you to not see Isagi today. But after not seeing him for months - not even a hi, hello, or a single sign that your Isagi is safe and sound - you only have one thing on your mind.

Screw the universe. I need to see him. Screw it all.

You chuck on a pair of navy converses, making your way towards the bus stop that started it all. The streets are busier nowadays. With various roadworks and several shops getting renovations left and right. However, the one location that you know like the back of your hand remains abandoned, frozen in time, almost. Still on its last leg, with a leaky roof and ivy adorning the wooden frame.

The seats have grown moss on them from the increase in rainfall nowadays. And so you choose to stand instead - quietly observing the pouring downfall, thoughts running amok.

It’s almost scary, how time has simultaneously been impetuous and sluggish lately. And you know it ties back to Isagi. It always does. You haven’t seen the boy in ages, actually. And that, in itself, is an understatement. It isn’t in the 'two weeks off school’, or the ‘we haven’t talked since summer break’ way, but in an ‘I’m honestly forgetting your face since it is now a new spring without you’ way.

…You don’t think you’ll have the heart to ever tell him that.

There is one thing that scares you more, though. And that's in the way that you’re forgetting how Isagi looks when he wears his smile. Does his lips curve upwards or downwards? Do his eyes turn into half-moons when he’s happy or does he bear his cerulean eyes for everyone to see? All of these are questions that invade your mind during sleepless midnights. Questions, that you never thought you would ask at all.

You can only hope that his smile is better than you can imagine. That he glows radiantly like he does in the fragments that appear in your memory every once in a while. Will happiness look good on him? Will it feel like a shame that you’ve been missing out on it all this time?

Maybe that’s the real reason why you’re worried that Isagi won't remember you: because you can hardly recall his face yourself. As in, truly, know what he looks like. You know Isagi from the blurry photos on your phone taken at 3AM sleepovers, and the display frames lined around his family’s home. The big picture itself is easy to see. The little things - the quirks of his that made you fall - have been much harder to recall.

But you do remember a few things. Arguably, the most important ones.

Your love for him; Isagi’s promise. The way he kissed you like he needed you to live; the way you cried for him amongst the skyfall.

The way Isagi taught you that it’s okay to love.

And it’s okay to be loved back.

For now, that is enough.

Droplets continue to batter against your woollen jumper, the rain drenching your entire being. It soaks your hair, makes the knuckles on your clenched fists a light violet, disguises the tears falling down from your face. The rain is ever so violent, leaving a mess of you in its wake. For the second time in your life, you let the rain do as it pleases. You let it destroy the outfit you meticulously planned, wreak havoc on the converses Isagi gave to you on your birthday. All in hopes that it will eventually cleanse your soul. Cleanse the pain, the happiness. Wipe the slate clean, as the rain does with the pavement, until you are reborn from the ashes and live a life where you aren’t so, irrecoverably in love with your best friend.

But you know, deep down, it will never save you from your calamitous love. That even if you are reborn, one word will remain in your heart. One, sacred word that you keep like an oath.

Promise.

You wonder if Isagi remembers his promise in the same way that you do.

It’s the only reason why you are going to the game today, after all.

Your hands loosen from the fist you’ve been keeping this whole time, deep crescent moons adorning the insides of your palm. A slip of paper flurries out from your hand - swishing with the wind in a way that a feather would. It dances around, until it lands in the puddle that has formed beneath your feet.

Shit. The ticket.

You bend down and clutch a now-soaked sheet of paper in your palm, tiny inscriptions that adorned the sheet now bleeding together. The only thing now visibly readable being: ‘JAPAN’S U20 VS BLUE LOCK’.

Rain really, really sucks.

(You’ve never hated it more.)

The bus finally arrives amidst the downpour.

(Yet, for some reason, a small part of you is excited to see the rainbow that comes after the storm.)

FIVE.

Isagi has always loved the rain.

Ever since he was a young boy, the rain has always had a certain allure that captivated him more than most. In his eyes, puddles held miniature worlds within them, with pebbles acting as land formations and stray twigs imitating people. Enchanting. Raindrops race each other down window panes, with him as an eager viewer. Simply spellbinding. However, nothing has ever beat the feeling of playing soccer amongst the rainfall. The feeling of watching the opponents around you struggle to run in the mud, as you calculate the best direction to head in; pieces of grass decorating your cleats in the aftermath like a badge of honour. Getting sick afterwards is a simple price to pay if it means transforming the pitch into a battlefield. Rain makes the game something to remember.

It’s the duality of rain that makes Isagi treasure the phenomenon dearly; rain can be simultaneously beautiful and destructive at the same time. Which, shockingly to him, is the very same fact that makes you despise it so much.

Your face appears within his mind. Isagi smiles.

Ah yes, you.

The person who despises rain more than anything else in the world. Who groans at the slightest hint of darkening clouds, and acts as if drizzle is akin to acid rain that will obliterate everyone in an instant.

Nowadays, media outlets constantly poke and prod into your relationship with one another as Isagi’s reputation grows - at a speed only fathomable in his wildest dreams - wondering how he can love you so much when the two of you are so different in every sense.

“…They just don’t understand,” he said to you on a day where it was all too much. “They’ll never understand how you’ve changed my life, is all.”

“Me? The person who nearly forgot you? Who doubted you and thought that you would’ve forgotten about them too?” You angrily clenched your head. “I don’t see how you’ve forgiven me so easily for that.”

“I told you already,” he began. “When I was gone I had the same thoughts as you. I forgot you for a bit, too. I doubted you, as well. I could never hold that against you, because I did the same, and– and… I regret it everyday; I know you regret it too.” Isagi inhaled sharply. “But at the end of the day, we both remembered the promise. And that’s enough.”

“…Right. I’m sorry, Yoichi.” Your eyes locked with his through the gaps between your fingers. “I love you so much, y’know that?”

“I know.” He grabbed your left hand, giving it a swift kiss. “I love you more, infinitely.”

Isagi cherishes you like he is a marauder and you are the finest jewel; he looks at you like you’re the only person who ever matters. And that’s true. Because to him, you are. With the countless sacrifices you’ve made for him; sticking by his side every step of the way; waiting and waiting for years; being the brunt of scrutiny from the media - heck - even your peers in high-school prior to his Blue Lock debut, Isagi is unsure if he will ever be able to repay you for all that you’ve done.

…But he does have an idea on where to begin.

Isagi averts his attention to the sights outside the bus window. He wonders why the rain is extra pretty today. The beauty of the raindrops seem otherworldly currently - a cascade of water flowing down overflowing gutters, iridescent hues lining the streets that he grew up on, children jumping into puddles with no care in the world. The rainy downpour from the heavens above seems unfaltering - even against the brilliance of Saitama’s lights. And amidst the hustle and bustle - adults finding their way into comforting warmth - there is you. Waiting in the rain for him underneath the bus stop, face twisted in discomfort, twirling the umbrella in your hand round and round.

It is no coincidence that the rain is so charming today.

No.

It’s prettier, because of you.

Always, you.

His sweetheart of many years.

“Hey, stranger.” You greet him as Isagi steps outside of the vehicle he practically grew up on, ushering him underneath the umbrella you brought with you.

You, who he loves more and more everyday.

“Hey yourself.” His eyes twinkle with mirth as he takes the umbrella from your hands. “It’s been a long time since we were both here, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Your face lightens up with the smile that he loves so much. “To think the last time we were here together was when…”

He looks into your eyes, face erupting with a mix of his boyish smile and laughter. “...When I kissed you. Yeah. I don’t think I could ever forget that night.”

The look on your face tells Isagi that neither could you.

“Even though we’ve had countless other kisses since then, that one is still my favourite, y’know?” Your hands move up to cup his face within your palms. “Yoichi, you don’t do romantic things like that anymore.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You stick your tongue out at him.

Isagi lets go of the source of shelter you are sharing, and lets it drift away with the wind. “Hey! We’re gonna get soaked!” You turn your back towards him, hands desperately trying to catch the stray umbrella that seems to be more than happy to escape. “C’mon Yoichi! What was that for?”

“Turn around for me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” He says, a smile evident in his words.

Isagi sees you gasp, the sight of him knocking the wind from your chest.

There he is, kneeling with his right knee down to the floor - pants getting soaked from the wet concrete below. And in his outstretched hands, lays a small, black velvet box, a diamond ring embedded within its centre.

“Will you marry me?” Isagi asks, starry-eyed. Voice soft and vulnerable.

One day came, and now you know Isagi is right.

Rain can be beautiful.

EXTRA.

“Hey, Isagi. What’s the date today?”

“June 20th. Why?”

“No reason,” a small grin makes its way to your face. “Just curious.”

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mochikeiji · 4 years ago

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Kinktober Day 7: Baby in Pink

↠ Pairing: Suna Rintarou x Reader

↠ Warning: SMUT! Cry baby reader, Ballerina AU, fingering, cunnilingus, ahegao faces because he's THAT good, riding, creampie, Suna being soft but meanie dom.

↬ Word Count: 3k

⇢ Day 7: Manhandled (Riding)

Everything felt so magical; elegant. The way you were on pointe made him suck in a breath to every performance he has witnessed from you. Even if he's seen them many, many times in repeat, you were as graceful as a butterfly, as taunting as a little fairy in baby pink. To see how effortlessly you were lifted by your partner during daring performances made him clench his fists of how close those pesky fingers of a stranger were to parts only he was allowed, yet his mind in wonder of how easily handled you were in stage.

How easily you were being handled in so many ways corrupted delicious, arousing day dreams in his calm features, but buzzing head.

He's never been vocal about it, but he adores how tight your ballet clothing were. He especially loved the camisole leotard dress; each time you wore them, he catches a glimpse of your perfectly shaped bottom from the flowy, see through clothing. Thanking the dark, and captured audience to the people on stage and not notice the growing bulge in his pants and his harsh breathing through his nose. The baby pink tone of your attire made you glow of innocence and cuteness he so wants to carry you out and throw you to his bed to snuggle you away from the eyes of the world.

To take your dainty, little self in the cold sheets with the baby pink article of clothing ruined by yours and his cum splattering messily.

The times your eyes would get caught with his pretty ones after your search for him in the sea of the crowd, you would smile brightly st him, eyes forming the adorable crescents he recognizes even from afar. The former, emotionless middle blocker would be in love struck, as if Cupid had shot multiple arrows to his heart just by your glowing form.

You were so precious. His little ballerina.

And he was your prince. Big and strong, beautiful in every way, fit from his previous and present time in volleyball, too good for anyone in this world. He was yours.

"R-rin.."

Too good.

Too good enough for you to be trembling, and just by grinding yourself on his flexed thigh. He couldn't hold back anymore after seeing you present yourself with your new outfit. It was still the same color, but the fabric was thinner than usual, either it was to make your movements more easier or it was just to test his patience. The length of the flowy skirt had been shortened with your legs no longer covered, naked and soft looking, the chest area emphasized your bust too much for his liking.

Oh, you were so delectable.

He groans your name when he felt your juices seep out from your clothed pussy. It was almost as if you weren't even covered well with it. Big, rough hands at the sides of your hips, guiding your shy movements against his thigh to bring you to your awaited heaven. You whimper when he dug his fingers onto the skin, the sounds you were making muffled on his shoulder only making it hard for him to tame himself. Having enough of it, he easily hoisted you up from his thigh and settles you down in bed. God, did he love having a place all to himself with you in it. He gets to do whatever he pleases.

"Pretty."

It came out like a harsh whisper from his lips as he stares at the damped spot of your center. The skirt pushed up and your legs spread out for him, he gets a little closer in between them and drags his digits down your clothed slit. Eyes immediately gazing up to see you biting your fist and your legs quivering in sensitivity. He hums in delight and began pressing in his index on the slick clothing, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit, relishing the sounds of your soft moans and his name being chanted like a prayer.

"Shit, baby."

Cursing he pushes the leotard to the side, inserting two of his digits in and curls them quickly, wanting to see and hear your squeals as your grabbed his wrist and propped yourself up pathetically with your elbow.

"W-wait, sensitive.."

Glossy eyes meeting with his blank, but lust clouded ones. He'd take mercy whenever you would warn him at times like this, afraid he might've hurt you in the process, but this, you weren't hurt or anything. You were just being his little cry baby. Instead of listening to your plead and your small hands tightening around his wrist weakly retraining him, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking his lips at the sight of the transparent, coated digits before plunging back in roughly. You sobbed as your body gave out and laid back down, with his other hand pressing down your stomach, he delivers precise piston of his fingers inside you. He knew you can take it. You can, and you will.

"Rin!! A-ah, Tarou..please.."

Legs trying to slowly shut with his head still in between, he hums in approval before getting a taste of your sopping cunt and lapping his tongue up to your clit. He loved getting crushed with your thighs, they were so soft and jiggly when they shook. It boosted his own ego to have them at that state because of his meek minitrations. What more can he get from you when he snaps?

He suckles on the bundle of nerves, your toes curls as your hips arched up, eagerly grinding to his mouth while pleading for him to stop since his fingers were reaching too deep into the right places inside. Suna was in his own euphoria, never really pegged himself as a man who would get drunk into the taste of you and a man who has his dick prodded up to the air just by seeing you in such princess-like clothing. Writhing beneath him, you lowered your hand down to his hair, tugging the long, luscious brown locks of his as he won't let go of the erected nub, slurping and nibbling at it like a pro.

His own arousal begging to be freed from his black slack, the infuriating fabric getting compacted uncomfortably, making his cock ache painfully. Removing his hand from your stomach, he unbuckled the belt off of his trousers swiftly, shrugging them down and kicking them off with his legs and feet, finally releasing your nub with a pop and mercy left for you.

Your legs automatically closed themselves to soothe the sensitive regions. Gripping the pillow on the side of your head as your clouded eyes gaze elsewhere into a short subspace, panting with small drool slipping from the corner of your lips. Suna sees this and gets up from the floor to hover over you. He shouldn't be so rough; shouldn't take advantage of this state you are in, not when your such in full daze of your own world, not when you looked already so fucked out when he hasn't gotten to the good part.

"You okay?"

The tip of his nose nudges your cheek softly, like a cat, he nuzzles himself on your flushed skin. It was out of character for him to display such affection, but over the years of being with you, oh how his heart softened and crumbles at the mere presence of you. He peppers your cheeks with little kisses, swiping away the drool with his thumb, murmuring praises and love confessions to you.

"You're cute."

"I'm here, baby."

"Mmm.. You're still dripping."

His voice made you dizzy, strum like a string of tantalizing melody as you inhaled his musky scent that made you dig your nose at the crook of his neck. Whimpering a little when you felt something slide outside your folds, warm and hard, Suna grunts and pants out small puffs of air onto your ear. You were so slick and wet that it was tempting to just dick you down right now. But you were his little baby, he had to take care of you first. He wouldn't want to hurt you.

"Will you let me take care of you?"

Your blown pupils lost the clouds that has surrounded them as you moaned out, his teeth sinking in the tender flesh by your neck with your hips jolting up, meeting with his twitching cock. Hands flying to clutch onto his shoulders, you wished you had kept your legs closed as now your flower was being teased to death. Suna groans when he feels you twitch a little, how adorable, he thoughts.

"Well?"

He bites on your lower lip, tugging it whilst keeping the eye contact with you, like he was ravishing you with his pretty eyes as sweat slid down to your face.

"I'm waiting."

He grabs a hold of his cock, you expected he was going to pump a few jets, but instead he began slapping it against your weeping cunt. Squealing at the sound of wet skin slapping and the small waves of pleasure kicking in, you whined beneath him when he chuckles darkly, looking up to him with puppy like eyes.

"Rin, please.."

He stops, leaning forward so that his forehead was pressing to yours, exhaling out softly when he felt himself release a few pre cum jets out from his cock.

"Please what?"

Even though he was getting as needy as you were, he was still Suna Rintarou, a guy who loves to be in control and manipulate what he can. Loves to endlessly put you on edge to have your small hands scratching his skin, your body trapped from his bigger structure. He was addicted.

Frustrated, tears glossed over your eyes with some slipping down a little. You would've screamed at him for being a big meanie, but now you were stuck pouting and crying when you felt him rut against you once more.

"Please!! Need your cock, Rintarou!!"

As those words escaped your plumped lips, Suna cages you in his arms and quickly switches positions with you in a blink of an eye. Confusion written all over your features as you gasped a little when you were now laying on his chest, Suna adjusting his head on the pillow, enough to see you shaking above him and gives your ass a soft smack, rubbing the soft, globe flesh and squishing it with his hand. Your leotard still pushed to the side, allowing his finger to tease the slit up and down, watching you start to lose yourself above him and push back, hoping to get more friction.

"You said you wanted my cock, right baby?"

You couldn't make out what he was saying, too busy rubbing against the knuckle of his index, clawing his chest to ground yourself. The veins in his arms and hands were noticeable, you can really tell he had been keeping himself together. With you above him, arms pressed to your chest, letting your tits be a show for him, hair fanning your features like some kind of princess as the uniform you were now wearing stuck to your skin from the sweat that had built up. Good thing you had spare ones.

Lining himself up to your cunt, he removes his hand away from you as you cried from the lost. Both of his hands found their way back to your bottom, lifting you up with is before slamming you down to his hard cock with a loud moan erupting from his chest and you left with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Take it, little girl."

The sudden thrust of his cock stung, but it didn't hurt much. No, it made you shocked, panting as if you were in some sort of heat, tongue sticking out at the feeling of his dick stretching you deliciously, the length and thickness making you feel so stuffed. He felt so deeper in this position, you couldn't move. You felt that if you were to try and thrust up and down, you would break. It was all too much.

Suna felt the same way. His head burnt, spinning like a spell was cast upon him when he was engulfed by the warmth of your cunny. Fuck, your walls kept fluttering and tightening around his cock. Every muscle on his body was flexed as he breathed heavily. You were so heavenly right now, he could cum on the spot inside of you.

"R-rin...So big.."

Covering your mouth with your hands, you tried raising your hips up a little, the lewd friction creating a pleasurable wave to your spine as you sunk down immediately, choking out a moan behind your palms and crying. You couldn't move.

Suna licked his lips at the sight before prying your hands away from your mouth and sitting up against the headboard of the bed, pushing you from the small of your back to his chest closer, his hands roaming around your hot, flushed body and cupping your breast through the fabric. Before you knew it, you squealed loudly when you heard a ripping sound from the chest area.

He had finally ruined the skimpy camisole leotard from you, letting your breast free with his face nuzzling into them and taking a nipple in his mouth. His hands went back to your hips, finally guiding you to a slow rhythm as he thrusts back carefully. Moaning softly, you cradled his head in your arms while he suckles on your nipples. Relishing the soft, yet deep thrusts given to you as each second passes.

"Y-you a-ah..Had to r-rip it, o-oh my—"

Tugging his hair from his roots when he moved to the other breast and bit harshly. He tugged the nippled with his teeth softly before lapping his tongue to soothe away the sting.

"You have spare ones. Besides,"

Pushing away from you, his eyes raked to your entirely new look. The ripped fabric hanging loosely with your breast on display, your cunt being stuffed full with his cock, you and your entire form within his control.

"You look so precious right now."

He delivers one hard thrust that made you fall to his chest, only then do you realize that you were not the one moving, but him all along. His pace quickens, the moans and cries from you onlt fueling him more. Suna shuts his eyes as his senses heightened by you.

"U-unf, hah— I'm sorry!!"

Your tears falling to his chest made him shiver and worry, he tried slowing doen his pace, but he feels your hips move around cutely trying to meet with his movements.

"I-I'm sorry, R-in...Ah— I couldn't mo-move!"

You were apologizing just because you couldn't give him the exact treatment and pleasure he was giving you. Normally, guilt would eat you out at this second, but you were far more succumbed by feeling stuffed, the thought of him cumming inside you blocked all other thoughts away. Precious, absolutely precious.

His hand cupped your cheek, giving it a small pinch of adoration and wiping away the tears that had still been falling from receiving his cock.

"It's okay, let me handle you, sweetheart."

Screaming, he began ramming himself inside of you. It burned, it burned so good it hurts, like your insides were being rearranged. His balls smacking up to your ass that was shaking and being squeezed and slapped by Suna's other hand in repeat. You could only stick your tongue out as you tried to make a sound, but it was all too good all that was left is you sobbing dumbly on his chest with Suna grunting and whispering praises beneath you.

"S-so fucking tight.. God, princess, I feel like ah— 'm gonna break you."

Petting your hair, he doesn't stop his pace. They weren't lying when they said this man uses his entire body to use. Was he so strong and flexible to be able to do this to you. Your balled fist went to grab his hand from your hair, lacing your fingers with his and held his hand, weakly raising your head up.

"A-ah, ah, inside.. Please.. Rin, 'm g-gonna break.. need you. Ngh!! INSIDE!!"

Your voice came out louder at the end when his tip reaches your spot. Moans turning into those you'd hear in pornography feeling your cunt get abused.

"Shit—"

He looked so nefarious; head thrown back, his mouth opening and closing, trying to silent out his own moans to his embarrassment and his hand holding yours tightly. He was to drool for, a real life incubus.

"I-I'm cumming..fuck, take it, baby."

"R-RINTAROU!! N-NO, NO MORE HAH— SLOW DOWN! R-RIN!!"

"SHIT, (Y/N)—"

Your cunt convulsed around his pulsing cock. The rush of adrenaline wrapping themselves to every fiber of your bones as you sobbed loudly, feeling yourself cream for what it's worth around his cock, his own hot, load shooting inside your womb, holding his breath as both your hands gripped each other with toes curling.

"F-fuck, you okay?"

Finishing the last drop, he doesn't pull out immediately. Not wanting to suddenly knock out some oxygen from you, he gives the crown of your head kisses with his thumb stroking the back of your hand. You puffed out breathy pants, body tired and throat scratchy from what happened seconds ago. The redness of your cheeks and the baby hairs the stuck to your forehead made you look so adorable to his eyes, that he leaned forward to kiss your temple.

"T-thank you, Rin...Love you so much."

He can make out the small hearts in your dazed eyes, mewling softly when he accidentally thrusts in while moving his position. Your eyes scrunched up closed, burying yourself on his chest with a small voice,

"Sensitive.."

"I know."

His other arm wrapped around you tightened, rubbing his cheek on your head affectionately. He loved moments like this in doors, just you, him, your bodies as one together in bed. His beautiful, little ballerina in his arms with the soft, baby pink and look on her features and body. It made him smile secretly from you.

"I love you too, my ballerina."

And he began moving again inside of you.

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