༺♰༻

݁✮hawks & aiku’s gf✮

[haaikjo]

✮⋆˙ ˙⋆ ✮

☽ masterlist!

☽ rules (please read!)

☽ ao3: haaikjo

☽ spotify O_o

☽ bllk fics !

☽ requests closed! But if you just wanna chat/ask random questions go ahead !

☽ 9teen, mexican, she/they

☽ ask to be moots !! ^_^

✮⋆˙ ˙⋆ ✮

[haaikjo]

Haaikjo’s Management

General

✩ My blog is for everyone, I try my very best to make as inclusive as possible. However, I write mostly for fem & gn readers as that is something I have better grasp for a perspective as I am a woman myself.

✩ NSFW won't be very common as I am not too experienced with writing such, but I will be labeling as such so people of age can avoid them

✩ SFW, however, is what I mostly cover. Yes, I might make suggestive references in some of my work, but they are nothing but slight

✩ I will not make warnings for cussing/swearing, for that is a norm in my life. If you don't like it, don't interact with my blog, please

✩ I don't have a schedule of when I post other than posting ASAP to be consistent. I don't like feeling the pressure of having to post daily or which days. Requests will always be put first, if shown other wise and I do an idea of my own, I'm doing it so I don't get burnt out.

✩ For any reason that I will be inactive, I will state publicly!

Interacting w/ my blog

✩ Everyone is welcome to interact with me! Don’t be afraid to chat about anything related to what I post or may have mentioned in some ranting post

✩ If you are of age, feel free to browse through all my posts

✩ If you are not of age, do not interact with posts I’ve marked NSFW. I am not responsible for making sure you are of age to look through those posts. Be mindful, please

What I DO write

✩ Drabbles, small one shots (ex: 1-5k words), and smaus

✩ Characters of age if there is any NSFW work done

What I DON’T write

✩ Series, I’d rather put it on a different platform like ao3. Anything above 5k words applies to that as well

✩ I stated this when I had less followers, but I will reiterate it. I will not write NSFW of characters who are not of age. No age ups, none of it. I am simply not comfortable with it.

✩ If I am writing NSFW, I am okay with writing anything except the obvious that is off morals (ex: rape, pedophilia, non-con, age play, incest. If it sounds too questionable: I will not write it)

Inbox

✩ Try to be as specific as possible! I am a little slow at times

✩ Inbox it also for chatting about anything, keep it to topic lol

Boundaries

✩ I would like to be mutuals with writers or just people that are of age, otherwise I'd have to consider so please respect that!

✩ I will block or unfollow if there's anything you say in my inbox or dms that I don't like. That goes for posts you make as well, it's nothing further than that

I am a person too, not just a blog! Thank you for reading, if you have any questions let me know in my inbox!

[haaikjo]

WHAT THE F*** IS A KILOMETERRR

synopsis: bllk boys in the USA for the World Cup!

based on this request!

cast: hugo, loki(!), bunny, aiku, barou, karasu, yukimiya

gn!reader, lots of crack lolol, established relationship

part I

Vivian Hugo

Julian Loki

Bunny Iglesias

Oliver Aiku

Shoei Barou

Tabito Karasu

Kenyu Yukimiya

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a/n: this took longer than i wanted to, i'm such a procrastinator. two more reqs and reqs will be open! i would prefer for no more to be left on my inbox because it makes me feel lwk pressured lol anywayyy wc ends tmr i can't belive ittt </3 also i may post rules for my blog since it is getting a little bigger and i feel like i as a person have a lot of boundaries ^_^ ALSO LOKII HE'S HEREEE

[deerdestroyer777]

[haaikjo]

pls like my best friend's post, they're new to tumblr ❤❤❤

[haaikjo]

hiiiii new mootie hruuuu 🥹🥹

HIHI i'm doing so well!! i hope you're doing good too, but was lwk #scared to ask to be moots and just in general with other writers, so glad to be moots with another latina🥹

[chevxyn]

the concept of misunderstanding

being close friends with vivian hugo online only to figure out the person that you thought was a woman is actually a man, clueless to the fact that he’s definitely into you.

⤷ smau, profanity, fem!reader & she/her pronouns for reader, ng11 as a highk toxic friend group that loves eachother, you’re those optimistic cheerful person, plot twist near the end.

bonus post ft. kaiser as a plus on the plot twist

property of ©chevxyn. do not feed to ai, do not post anywhere else — thank you for your support.

[lunarianwhisper]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ you said you liked it

itoshi sae x reader

warnings. established relationship, fluff (like... a lot), sae pretending he is not painfully attentive ♡

word count. ~3.4k.

every time sae returns from spain, he brings you something small. it takes you far too long to understand that none of the gifts are as thoughtless as he pretends they are.

── .✦

The first gift Sae brings you from Spain is a bookmark.

It is thin and painted by hand, a trail of deep blue flowers curling around its edges while a narrow red ribbon hangs from the bottom. Pretty, certainly, but not particularly remarkable. The sort of thing displayed beside postcards and magnets in a quiet shop intended for tourists with a few coins left to spend before their flights.

Sae places it on the table between you without explanation.

You look down at it.

Then back at him.

“What’s this?”

“A bookmark.”

“I can see that.”

He lifts his glass, entirely unaffected by your stare. “Then why did you ask?”

You narrow your eyes, though the smile threatening your mouth ruins whatever irritation you were attempting to convey.

“I meant why are you giving it to me?”

Sae takes a slow drink before answering.

“You dog-ear your pages.”

There is enough judgment in his voice to make it sound like a personal failing.

You glance at the bookmark again.

“You bought this because you don’t like the way I mark my pages?”

“You’re ruining them.”

“They’re my books.”

“You’re still ruining them.”

You laugh, tracing one fingertip over the painted flowers. The blue is slightly uneven in places, small imperfections revealing where the brush must have paused against the wood.

“You could’ve just told me to buy one.”

“I have.”

“You complained. That’s different.”

“It clearly wasn’t effective.”

Sae leans back in his chair, conversation apparently finished.

You smile despite yourself and slip the bookmark carefully inside the novel waiting in your bag.

“Thank you.”

His eyes flick toward your hands for a moment.

Then away.

“Hm.”

You think little of it at the time.

Sae travels constantly. Training camps, matches, obligations you do not always understand and events he rarely seems interested in attending. Airports and hotel rooms have become ordinary pieces of his life, distances measured in fixtures rather than weeks.

The bookmark feels like an impulse purchase—a small object he spotted beside a register that happened to remind him of your terrible reading habits.

Then comes the second gift: a box of tea from Spain.

You are waiting in his apartment when he returns, curled into one corner of the couch with a blanket covering your legs. His flight landed late enough that you had almost fallen asleep twice, but the sound of his key turning in the lock has you sitting upright immediately.

Sae steps inside with one hand wrapped around the handle of his suitcase.

He looks tired.

Not obviously. Sae rarely permits anything to appear obvious. But there is a faint heaviness beneath his eyes, a stiffness in his shoulders that only becomes visible after you have spent long enough learning the difference between his indifference and his exhaustion.

“You’re still awake,” he says.

“You told me you’d be here at eleven.”

“It’s eleven thirty.”

“Exactly. You’re late.”

“The plane was delayed.”

You rise from the couch and move toward him, wrapping your arms around his waist before he can say anything else.

For a moment, Sae remains still.

Then his hand settles against the back of your head.

“You missed me,” he observes.

“No.”

“Right.”

His palm slides slowly down your hair, lingering before he steps away to remove his jacket.

You watch him open his suitcase.

“You’re unpacking now?”

“I need something.”

From between neatly folded clothes, he removes a small paper package and holds it toward you.

You blink.

“What is it?”

“Open it.”

Inside is a box of loose-leaf tea, the label printed in Spanish and decorated with tiny illustrations of oranges.

You lift the lid and breathe in. The scent is warm and sweet, citrus softened beneath something floral.

“It smells amazing.”

“You complained the tea here tastes like hot water.”

You look at him.

“That was months ago.”

Sae shrugs and begins closing his suitcase.

You remain kneeling beside it, the box held carefully in both hands.

“You remembered that?”

“You complained for twenty minutes.”

“It was terrible tea.”

“I remember.”

His tone remains flat, but there is the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.

The third gift is a pair of earrings.

Small golden stars, delicate enough to catch the light whenever you turn your head.

He leaves them beside the bathroom sink while you are getting ready, the box appearing between your makeup and his irritatingly limited collection of skincare as though it has always belonged there.

You find it while searching for your lip balm.

“Sae?”

He appears in the doorway, already dressed for dinner.

“What?”

You hold up the box.

His gaze drops toward it. “They’re earrings.”

“Thank you, I was struggling with that.”

“You asked.”

“I’m asking why they’re here.”

“They’re yours.”

You turn one of the tiny stars beneath the light.

They are exactly the sort you would choose for yourself—simple, warm-toned, understated enough for everyday wear. You cannot imagine Sae wandering willingly through a jewelry shop, much less studying displays long enough to decide which pair would suit you.

“How did you even pick these?”

Sae’s expression suggests the question is ridiculous.

“You showed me a pair like them.”

“When?”

He adjusts the cuff of his sleeve. “You were looking at them online.”

Your hand stills.

That had been weeks ago. You had been lying beside him, mindlessly scrolling, and paused on a photo for no more than a few seconds before deciding you did not need them.

You are not even certain you spoke aloud.

“You saw that?”

“You had the brightness all the way up.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It was annoying.”

You stare at him.

Sae stares back.

Then his eyes drop briefly toward the earrings.

“Are you wearing them or not?”

The impatience in his voice fails to conceal the way he waits for your answer.

You smile.

“Help me put them on?”

“No.”

“Sae.”

“You have hands.”

“Please?”

He exhales, long and quiet, as though you have asked him to perform something unbearably difficult.

Still, he approaches.

You turn your back to him and move your hair aside. Sae’s fingers brush the curve of your ear as he fastens the first earring, his touch unexpectedly careful. The cool metal settles against your skin.

“You’re very good at this,” you murmur.

“Be quiet.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“No.”

“Then how—”

“Hold still.”

You do, though mostly because his fingertips have moved beneath your hair, smoothing it back into place with an intimacy that leaves warmth spreading slowly through your chest.

When he finishes, you turn toward the mirror.

The stars catch the bathroom light.

You look at Sae’s reflection.

He is already watching you.

“They’re perfect,” you say softly.

“I know.”

Of course that is his answer.

The gifts continue.

By the fourth gift—a small bottle of perfume—you begin to wonder whether any of his choices are truly spontaneous.

The fifth is a ceramic dish painted with lemons, chosen because your rings are always scattered across his apartment.

The sixth gift is a wool scarf in the exact shade you once admired through a shop window.

The seventh is chocolate from a place you had mentioned seeing online.

The eighth gift is a pen, bought because yours ran out during one of your calls and you spent five minutes searching for another while Sae listened in silence from Madrid.

Each time, he offers the same simple explanation.

“You said you wanted one.”

“You said you liked it.”

“You needed it.”

As though these are reasons enough.

Perhaps, to Sae, they are.

It takes you longer than it should to notice the pattern.

You are cleaning your room one afternoon when you find the first bookmark tucked inside an old novel. The blue flowers are slightly faded now, the red ribbon fraying near the end from months of use.

You place it on the bed.

Then, almost without thinking, you begin gathering the others.

The earrings from the small dish on your dresser.

The scarf folded over your chair.

The perfume beside the mirror.

The tea, nearly finished, in the kitchen cupboard.

A collection of small, ordinary objects arranged across your blanket, each one connected to a moment you had long since forgotten.

A complaint made beneath your breath.

A screen paused for a few seconds.

A passing comment that had felt too insignificant to carry beyond the conversation in which it appeared.

Sae had carried every one of them across countries.

You are still sitting among the gifts when he arrives.

He stops in the doorway to your room.

His eyes move from you to the objects scattered across the bed.

“What are you doing?”

You lift the bookmark.

“You remembered all of these.”

Sae leans against the doorframe, expression unreadable. “They’re things I bought you.”

“No.” You look down at the gifts. “You remembered everything I said.”

A faint crease appears between his brows, as though he cannot understand why this surprises you.

“You talk a lot.”

You laugh once, though the sound comes out softer than intended.

“I don’t talk that much.”

“You do.”

“And you listen?”

Sae’s gaze settles on your face.

For a moment, the room becomes very still.

He could tease you. He could look away, offer some dismissive answer and leave you to interpret everything yourself. That is what you expect from him—the careful avoidance he uses whenever a conversation threatens to become too openly sentimental.

Instead, Sae pushes away from the doorway and walks toward you.

He stops between your knees.

“You’re my partner,” he says simply.

Your fingers tighten around the bookmark.

“So?”

“So I listen.”

The answer is delivered with such calm certainty that your chest aches.

Sae looks down at the collection on the bed.

“You didn’t need to take everything out.”

“I was having a moment.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You brought me souvenirs from another country because I complained about tea.”

“It was bad tea.”

Your laugh breaks free before you can stop it.

Sae’s hand settles against your cheek, his thumb moving once beneath your eye. His expression remains composed, but there is something gentler behind it now, something he does not seem particularly interested in hiding.

“You really don’t think this is romantic?” you ask.

“No.”

“You remembered earrings I looked at for five seconds.”

“They suited you.”

“And the scarf?”

“You were cold.”

“The perfume?”

“You liked it.”

You smile up at him.

Sae’s eyes narrow slightly, already suspicious of the expression.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“Looking at me like I said something impressive.”

“You did.”

“I bought you things.”

“You noticed me.”

The words quiet him.

His hand remains against your face.

There it is, you think—the reason the gifts never felt grand to him. Sae does not understand attention as an extraordinary act. He watches you because you are there. He remembers because your words matter to him. The little details you dismiss as meaningless settle somewhere inside him and remain there until he finds them again in shops, airports, and unfamiliar streets thousands of miles away.

To him, it is not romance.

It is simply loving you.

You turn your face and kiss the center of his palm.

Sae becomes very still.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He studies you for another second before bending down. His lips brush your forehead first, then the corner of your mouth.

“You’re welcome, mi amor.”

Your smile widens.

He notices immediately.

“Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him closer, your cheek resting against his stomach.

Sae sighs, but his fingers slide into your hair, gently combing through the strands.

After a quiet moment, his gaze shifts toward the gifts spread across the bed.

“You’re missing one.”

You lift your head.

“What?”

He reaches into the inner pocket of his coat and removes a small velvet box.

Your arms slowly loosen from around his waist.

“Sae.”

“What?”

You stare at the box resting in his palm. It is too small to contain anything harmless, and Sae’s complete lack of concern only makes your heart beat harder.

“You just got here.”

“And?”

“You already bought me something else?”

Instead of answering, he holds it toward you.

You take the box carefully, suddenly aware of how warm your hands have become. Sae watches in silence as you lift the lid.

Inside is a ring.

The ninth gift—and somehow, the one that makes every other object spread across your bed feel like a trail leading to this moment.

It is delicate, made of thin gold with a tiny teal stone set into the center—not extravagant, but elegant in that quiet, understated way Sae seems to understand suits you better than anything overly ornate. The stone catches the light when you tilt the box, flashing the same deep shade as his eyes.

For a moment, you can only stare.

“Sae…”

“You said you liked it.”

Your gaze snaps toward him. “When?”

“A few months ago.”

You search your memory until a blurred afternoon begins to return: the two of you walking past a jewelry shop, your steps slowing briefly in front of the window. You had pointed toward one of the rings inside and said it was beautiful before continuing down the street.

You had not thought about it again.

Apparently, Sae had.

“I didn’t even say I wanted it.”

“You kept looking at it.”

“For maybe ten seconds.”

“Long enough.”

The answer comes so easily that your chest aches all over again.

You remove the ring from its cushion, but before you can put it on, Sae takes it gently from your fingers.

“Give me your left hand.”

You stare at him.

Sae holds the ring between two fingers, his expression as composed as ever, as though he has not just taken the entire evening and tilted it quietly off its axis.

“Sae.”

His eyebrow lifts.

“Are you going to make this difficult?”

“You’re holding a ring and asking for my left hand.” Your voice comes out thinner than you intended. “I think I’m allowed to have a moment.”

“You’ve been having one for the past five minutes.”

Your mouth falls open, but the reply never comes.

Because he said left hand.

Not your right. Not whichever one happened to be closest.

Your left.

The realization settles slowly, warmth spreading through your chest until you can hear your own heartbeat beneath the silence of the room.

You look down at the ring again, at the delicate gold band and the small teal stone catching the light between his fingers.

Then back at him.

“Sae,” you say carefully, “is this a proposal?”

He watches you for a moment.

“Yes.”

The single word steals the air from your lungs.

There is no teasing in his expression now, no trace of the faint amusement he usually wears whenever he manages to fluster you. His gaze remains steady on yours, quiet and certain in a way that makes the small velvet box in your hands suddenly feel much heavier.

“You’re proposing to me?”

“I just said I was.”

“That isn’t...” You stop, pressing your lips together as a nervous laugh threatens to escape. “You can’t just hand me a ring and expect me to understand what’s happening.”

“I asked for your hand.”

“That is not the same thing as asking me to marry you!”

Sae exhales softly through his nose. For the first time, something almost uncertain passes beneath his composure—not hesitation, exactly, but the realization that perhaps this is one moment he cannot communicate through implication alone.

He lowers the ring slightly.

Then he steps closer.

“You want a speech?”

“I want to know why.”

His eyes narrow just a little. “You don’t know?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Of course you do.

Sae studies your face, and for one terrible second, you think he might refuse simply because you asked. Then his free hand rises to your cheek, his thumb resting just beneath your eye.

“I remember the things you say because they matter to me,” he begins. His voice is calm, stripped of any theatrical tenderness, but every word lands with deliberate weight. “I bring you things because I see them and think of you. I come back and expect you to be here. When you aren’t, the apartment feels wrong.”

Your breath catches.

Sae’s gaze does not leave yours.

"I don’t want you fitting into my life only when our schedules allow it.” His thumb moves once across your cheek. “I want you in all of it—when I leave, when I come back, wherever I end up playing.

The sting behind your eyes grows warmer.

Sae notices, naturally, but this time he does not interrupt.

“I bought the ring because you liked it,” he continues. “I measured one of yours because I intended to put it on you. And I’m asking because I want you to marry me.”

There it is.

Not wrapped in poetry. Not softened by promises too grand to trust.

Just Sae, offering you the truth as plainly as he understands it.

His fingers shift beneath your chin.

“So,” he says, voice quieter now, “marry me, mi amor.”

Your vision blurs.

Sae’s expression tightens immediately.

“Don’t cry before you answer.”

A laugh slips through the tears gathering in your eyes.

“You’re still bossing me around during your own proposal.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m not avoiding it.”

“You haven’t answered.”

You reach for the front of his shirt, curling your fingers into the fabric as though you need something solid to steady yourself.

“Yes.”

Sae becomes completely still.

The smallest pause follows—barely there, but long enough for you to see the answer reach him beneath all that carefully maintained composure.

You smile through the warmth in your eyes.

“Yes, Sae. I’ll marry you.”

His shoulders loosen.

Only slightly.

But you see it.

Of course you do.

Sae takes your left hand, his touch unexpectedly careful as he slides the ring onto your finger. It settles perfectly at the base.

Of course it does.

You look down at it, watching the teal stone catch the light.

Then you look back at him.

“How did you know my size?”

“You leave your jewelry everywhere.”

“You measured one of my rings?”

“You make it sound more complicated than it was.”

“You secretly measured one of my rings, remembered something I looked at months ago, found it again, brought it home from Spain, and planned an entire proposal without telling me.”

“Yes.”

“And you still don’t think you’re romantic?”

“No.”

You laugh softly, though another tear escapes before you can stop it.

Sae brushes it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry over a ring.”

“I’m not crying over the ring.”

“Then what?”

“You.”

That silences him.

You pull him closer by his shirt and kiss him before he can retreat behind another dry reply. His hand slides into your hair, holding you there as his mouth softens against yours.

The kiss is slow, warm with all the things Sae rarely says aloud.

When you finally part, your forehead remains pressed to his.

“You could have started with marry me,” you whisper.

“You would’ve interrupted.”

“I interrupted anyway.”

“I know.”

His eyes lower to the ring now resting on your hand. His thumb brushes lightly over the gold band, tracing the place where it circles your finger.

Then he brings your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss against your knuckles.

“You like it?”

You stare at him.

“You proposed to me, and you’re asking whether I like the ring?”

“You said you did.”

Months ago.

For no more than a few seconds.

You shake your head, smiling helplessly.

“I love it.”

Sae’s eyes lift to yours.

“The ring?”

“You.”

The faintest smile touches his mouth.

“Good.”

Then he kisses you again.

The ninth gift remains on your finger, distinct from every small object spread across the bed.

The others were things Sae carried home because he remembered what you liked, what you needed, and every passing thought you never expected him to keep.

But the ring is not merely something he has brought home to you.

It is his quiet way of asking you to make a home with him.

Sae has always listened.

This time, he asks—and waits for your answer.

I NEED A SAE ASDWQLOWERSFDKAJSDPQ.

[thepenguinboy]

i love esdeekid and mbappe

[haaikjo]

omg i saw this one bllk slideshow on tiktok where it was like them reacting to you apologising first in an argument THEY caused (i forgot who made it tho :( )

so like what if theyre having an argument with the reader or something and they just accept it cause theyre like i cant be bothered to argue and they feel like they cant reason with them in this one specific argument?? (not promoting unhealthy relationships 😿) SORRY IF IT SOUNDS CONFUSING

but like they argue, the guys dont notice shes just accepting it basically and then she apologizes first or smth and then they realize??? idk just like a general idea of how it could go!!!

i think headcannons or smau something like that would be fun to do!! i feel like drabbles or long fics would take too much time for u so i dont wanna force too much sorry 😿 if hiori, kurona, or like not really written for characters be in there that'd be nice thank you!!!

i love ur work and the way you write one of my fav bllk writers!!!

Hello anon!!! Don’t worry I never wanted to ignore this request, just had to put it to the side.

I’ve seen that Tik tok too I believe! And I’m ngl I’ve had to re-read this a quite a few times and I get it!! I will do this one after the WC themed one lolol

Requests are still closed for the time being!

[haaikjo]

There’s a shared idea in football that if u dont know what team to support, u should always root for the underdog/team from smaller countries not belonging to the powerhouses, u should lowkey bllk/ng11 smau where the reader supports the opposing team in a match they’re playing in lol <33

Yes yes this is so cute but I feel like everytime I go for the underdog they always LOSE😭😭😭 but I will get this done before wc ends Sunday ^_^

[haaikjo]

rest easy hun don't stress yourself

Thank you moot🥹 all these supportive comments made me feel better and I am back to posting!!!

[haaikjo]

WHAT THE F*** IS A KILOMETERRR

synopsis: bllk boys in the USA for the World Cup!

based on this request!

cast: isagi, bachira, rin, sae, nagi, reo, chigiri, shidou, ness, kaiser

gn!reader, lots of crack lolol, established relationship

part II

Yoichi Isagi

Meguru Bachira

Rin Itoshi

Sae Itoshi

Seishiro Nagi

Reo Mikage

Hyoma Chigiri

Ryusei Shidou

Michael Kaiser

Alexis Ness

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a/n: long awaited request that took me the longest to dooo but i like this sm hehe i have recovered from yesterday's fevers so i am well now! gonna try to do pt.2 to this ASAP

⊲ II ⊳ ılı.ıllı… : that’s my kind of night by luke bryan

[haaikjo]

awh feel better hawk tuah 😿😿

LOL thank you! Fortunately I am feeling better but unfortunately I cannot sleep😞

[haaikjo]

Hi guys in really wanted to upload tonight but I got sick really badly like literally two fevers in one day ouuu shii so I’ll have to post pone for tmr hopefully! I hope everyone is healthy and safe!! ^_^

[haaikjo]

I saw this on ig the other day and desperately need someone to draw Jude as Sae instead LOL

It makes sense since Sae said he wants to win the championship, is in Re Al (Real Madrid) and is canonically attractive lol

[sleepybibliophilee]

˗ˏˋ calling him "my husband"◌༘♡

summary: calling them your husband, this was a tiktok trend a few years ago, and it been on my mind.

characters: hugo, loki, sae, kaiser

c/n: fluff, may be ooc (I don't trust my characterization), suggestive if you squint, implied fem reader, mentions of food(?)

ೃ⁀➷vivien hugo

you and hugo were lounging on the couch lazily. you were mindlessly scrolling on your phone while hugo was lying on your lap, "reading". very mundane. except for one thing, you both were hungry but to lazy to cook so you had to find other options.

“okay so clearly since none of us are willing to cook, lets order pizza” you swiftly dialed the number and stated your usual order and then— “yes and for my husband he'll have anything that doesn’t have avocados…okay thank you”

hugo froze. his blank book slipped out of his hand and fell flat on his face. he sat up straight and looked at you wide eyed. the cogs in his brain turned trying to process that just came out of your mouth so casually. my husband. your husband. He kept on repeating the phrase as if he was tasting it, letting it settle in his chest. a faint blush started to form.

you looked over at him, with a little grin, noticing his shocked expression. “what?”

“husband?? me...but we’re not—” he paused. “well...at least not yet” he looked down. You could tell he was thinking so much about this. “husband” he whispered under his breath rubbing his ring finger. he looked back at you and gave you a little smile. he liked it.

when the delivery arrived, you went to get it and hugo tailed you. once you retrieved the bags, out of nowhere hugo looked at the man dead in the eye and said, “I am her husband” “vivien??”

the delivery man just chuckled and left.

you threw him a light punch at the chest. “what the hell was that?” “no take backs. marriage is legally binding.” oh God what have you done.

that night, after you fell asleep he silently measured the size of your ring finger, making a mental note of your ring size.

oh and his team DID NOT hear the end of it. he practically made it his entire personality

“who you texting” “my wife” “youre married??” “almost”

ೃ⁀➷julien loki

you scoured the menu for something you liked. Loki was a bit distracted on his phone. he didnt really need to order, you already knew what he wanted so you were going to order for him. "so I'll have the Coq au Vin and my husband will have the Boeuf Bourguignon and for dessert we'll have the Guimauve Chocola." loki smiled at his phone and looked up at you. the waitress jotted down your orders and left.

and so the night proceeded. loki didn’t say anything significant. he just smiled at you while you blabbered about your day. he didn’t want to make it obvious that what you said gave him the biggest ego boost. after the meal it was time to pay the check, loki took the bill.

“I'll pay the bill” flashing you a smile with a hint of amusement in his eyes “I am your husband after all”

you looked at him. oh he liked it. perhaps a bit too much. you. you ordered an Uber back to your hotel. he teased you relentlessly the entire drive. "so does your husband get some special loving tonight?" "oh my gosh, enough with this already"

the Uber driver thought you both made a cute couple. "are you two married?"

you sat up looking at the driver in horror "no! we are—"

"yes we are. I'm her husband" loki interrupted, proudly announcing a title he unofficially just earned a few hours ago. he then looked at you. "isn't that right, mon amour?"

that night, while you were preparing for bed, loki walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing kisses on your nape. “someone’s awfully pleased with himself ” you teased. he pulled you closer. his lips grazed your ear and he whispered “why wouldn’t I be? You introduced me as your husband today”

“puhlease” you huffed. “it just slipped” you lied; you did it on purpose.

“did it?” he smiled, “but—” he continued “I liked it. It suited our status”

those words caught you off guard and you became flustered. you are screwed.

ೃ⁀➷sae itoshi

sae wonder how you managed to get him in this situation; fastfood drive-thru. “this is very unhealthy for you” he said, condescendingly. he could smell the greasy food that was escaping the kitchen through the vents.

“I'll be having the burrito and fries, extra sauce please” you turned to sae “anything you’d like?”

he looked at you with dead eyes “I don’t eat unhealthy filth”

you sighed and turned back to the intercom. “...and my husband will have a salad with spicy wings I guess…”

sae’s head shot back at you, his eyes wide and pupils dilating. he was so shocked that his stoic nonchalant, demeanour faultered for a second “what”

“husband? me?” he muttered in disbelief pointing at himself.

“did I say something?” you raised a brow towards him, with a flirty smile.

“no, I—” he let out a slow breath, regaining his demeanor “… you didn’t”

at the payment window, you volunteered to pay but sae wouldn’t let you. he intercepted, handing the cashier his card without even glancing at you. “I am the husband I'll pay”

on the way home, he didn’t want to face you,he couldn't. but you knew he liked it. his cheeks were lightly flushed while he focused on the road. and he kept his hand firmly on your thigh the whole ride home.

ೃ⁀➷michael kaiser

michael was concentrated on driving, his hand on the steering and his other alternating between the gear shift and your thigh, on the way to an expensive dinner reservation. you were occupied on a call with your friend. as you were approaching the destination you had to end the call:

“okay babe I have to go now, my husband and I are on our way to have some dinner—”

the car suddenly swerved just enough for you to have a mini heart attack and grab the dashboard.

“MICHAEL WHAT THE HELL!”

he regained his control over the wheel, a devilish grin forming from his lips. he kept on replaying those words in his head the rest of the way. once parked outside the restaurant he turned to you, with the biggest grin. “husband huh. I like that, say it again”

“uh wha—”

“no” he cut you off, rubbing his chin. “say it in german, ja?”

“michael we have reservations we need to go”

“that shit can wait” he scoffed “I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it”

good god you have created a monster.

“mein Ehemann” you eventually say.

music to his ears. “mhm yes I am Schatz. that sounds so good.”

he definitely did not let that go.

at the front desk he spoke out to the young lady. "good evening, she made reservations under her husband's name, my name" you shot him a 'stop that' glare.

oh he wouldn't shut up about it during the dinner as well, introducing himself to the wait staff as your husband.

you kept on nudging at him to stop. "shut up about what? being your husband??" and he said this loudly attracting the attention of all the patrons

a/n: I do intend on making a part two because I want to add nagi, reo and yukki. just didn't want to make this post too long. if you want anyone else added, please let me know!

first draft. I proofread the hell out of this and kept on becoming longer. dividers from @dollywons

pardon if there are any mistakes. english is in fact my first language, but I'm still on the learning curve of actually writing.

thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated🩷

[haaikjo]

✮⋆˙ Masterlist ˙⋆ ✮

smaus!

"Get mooned!"

"Get mooned!" pt.2

"Not Your Type?"

"Not Your Type?" pt.2

"'Cause the doggone girl is mine"

"'Cause the doggone girl is mine" pt.2

"Livin' la Vida Loca"

"Livin' la Vida Loca" pt.2

"Under Your Spell"

"Under Your Spell" +characters

The night after the club

Moe Moe Kyun!

Moe Moe Kyun! pt.2

Duty Calls

Duty Calls pt.2

BLLK hcs/drabbles!

"Will You Be my Valentine?"

"You're the man!"

Sae Itoshi

Silent Lucidity

"Why'd You Only Call Me When Your High?"

"Be Like A Man To Me"

"Tú Con Él"

Sae’s social media !

Michael Kaiser

Comforting your bf!Michael Kaiser

"That color is so hot"

"Did You Know That I Loved You?"

"Did You Know That I Loved You?" pt.2

The thought that counts

Rin Itoshi

"I Never Wanted To Be Your Weekend Lover"

"It's Just A Cigarette"

Rin is the biggest tsundere!!

Yoichi Isagi

"He was born timid"

Oliver Aiku

Hot N Cold

Ryusei Shidou

Candy (NSFW - MDNI)