or, since meeting you, all itoshi sae wants is a sappy happily ever after with you.
content: established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, sfw
wc: 1.0k
sae falls asleep to the sound of your breaths, the rise and fall of your chest underneath the weight of his arm over your waist. he’d rather fall asleep next to you every night—and most nights he does—but sometimes it simply cannot he helped, so when he’s away from home, he facetimes you until one of you falls asleep or has to go.
he easily falls asleep to your voice over call, phone on the bedside table next to him, and you only hang up once he’s quiet for at least half an hour and is no longer responding to you with a barely-there ‘mhm.’ after all, sae has never been much of a chatterbox to begin with, per se, so it’s not unusual for him to just listen, to savour your voice telling him about your day, to bask in the mimicry of nomalcy as you go about your day as usual on the phone to him, as if he’s there with you.
people are, more often than not, surprised by the sweet and affectionate nature of your longstanding relationship. while you’re all soft smiles, sunshines and rainbows, he’s terse, with sharp edges and a mind and mouth just as sharp. he’s cold, and spares no effort to sugarcoat his opinions nor fake humility to the masses, whereas you are warm and modest, never asking for anything in return for your kindness and hard work. still, despite this, your relationship is built upon strong and sturdy foundations, and the home you have built together is full of love and joy.
where he is can be too closed up, sometimes too wrapped up in himself, you encourage him to be more open-minded and compassionate. where you can be careless and impulsive, he is there to tie up any loose ends you’ve left behind. though your worlds do not excessively collide, they do overlap. while you don’t necessarily need each other to complete your own individual existence, you bring out the better and the best out of one another. you’ve learned through time and patience that symbiosis is often the better alternative to codependency.
there have been ups and downs to your relationships. you’re both only human after all, and no relationship is perfect; with personal flaws can come misunderstandings or miscommunication. the thing that sets successful couples apart from those that break up, however, is how you maintains and manages the things that strain your relationship. to maintain a balance between your independence and your time together is key, especially when sae is away from home so often.
it’s not uncommon for you to fall asleep in sae’s arms, only for the bed to be cold and half-empty in the morning. sometimes his voice or his face over the phone isn’t enough to keep out the doubt and anxiety gnawing at your heart. you don’t want to welcome him home with frustration and tears, but on the rare occasion you do, sae understands. he knows how much trust and faith it takes for you to wait for someone who will leave not long after.
but you also know it was your choice. you knew, when you agreed to start dating sae, that it wasn’t always going to be candy-floss and kitten fluff. you knew how much sae treasured his dreams, his work, his success, how much effort he had poured into crafting the formula to take over the field. you admire him for his tenacity and diligence, and you would never expect him to give up football for you.
you’d never understood why people say you should be willing to sacrifice in a relationship. compromise, yes, but sacrifice? if the person you love can’t accept you for what you are and do, then they don’t love you, not really. at least, that’s what you think.
but that’s why sae is your forever and always. sae loves you for your flaws, not despite them, and that makes all the difference in the world. he never expects you to show him the ‘best side’ of yourself at all times, because he knows how much faith you have in him to bare yourself wholeheartedly to him, to not shy away.
you’re lucky, you think, so unbelievably lucky to have sae in your life. for him to love you. for every day you spend with sae.
unbeknownst to you, sae thinks the same thing. he thinks it so often, hundreds of times a day, and he thinks you’ll say yes if he grabs that little box out of his suitcase and gets on one knee someday soon.
he hopes you’ll cry—tears of joy, not anguish or pain. that way he can wipe them away for you, hold your face in his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow. hold you in his arms like the fool in love he is, so utterly enamoured and enchanted by you.
he doesn’t know how it happened, but he’s not complaining that it did. somewhere along the line he’d ended up completely bewitched by your mellifluous laughter, your sunny smile. there’s something perfect in coming home to you, knowing someone yearns for him in such a way. perhaps it isn’t this penthouse that’s home, but your warm and loving presence. he’s not quite sure. almost, though.
but what he is sure he knows is that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. where he once wanted to write his name into history with a football career like no other, something deep inside would be wholly content to just have the memories of being yours. he wants to spend every day cherishing you, loving you, never yearning from thousands of miles away, but rather holding you close, lovesick and sappier than ever. happier than ever. happier than he’s ever known.
itoshi sae’s happily ever after is a forever after with you.
he can’t believe what you’ve turned him into. a lovesick, lovelorn fool. but still, waking up to the sound of your shallow, breaths, your body curled up into his, and the warmth of your presence—it’s fine.
this is his happily ever after, an imperfect love it may be.
୨୧ * my personal hcs on who the bllk boys would fall in love with, how they’d meet and some scenarios unique to their relationships * just for fun -> nothing serious ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ * (part one/???)
isagi yoichi! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩
୨୧ * i feel like isagi would probably be the type who falls in love with the sports journalist interviewing him 😭 he’s such a football nerd & he’d defo suit someone who understands his passion, esp on a technical level. he defo rambles and borderline mansplains his tactics and plays to a sports journalist!s/o, but i also think he’s good at finding a decent work-life balance, so sports isn’t everything in your relationship.
୨୧ * isagi’s ability to separate his professional life aka his football ego/persona from his sweet irl personality would make him a green flag bf, bc he defo puts in as much effort into his relationship as he does football. he loves football, but he also loves his s/o just as much, if not slightly more, so while football is a prominent part in both your lives, it isn’t necessarily the defining factor in your relationship.
୨୧ * i also think isagi would date someone driven towards their own career, even if it’s not journalism. he defo would LOVE you in sporty clothing or leggings that show off ur thighs cos he has a canonical thing for those lmao. oh AND he’s the type who’s quite good with kids but has a level of awkwardness with them still, so watching his s/o struggle to interact with them would set him up for a laugh (w/ no ill intent, ofc). but if you’re really good with kids, no problem, because he’ll just watch you with sparkling eyes full of awe, heart swelling with unbridled affection.
୨୧ * he would defo be the perfect bf if you’re a picky eater cos he’ll find ways to work with your preferences but also encourage you to try new foods. the gentlemen who whisks you out everywhere to try new cuisine at nice restaurants and sneakily pays mid-meal during a ‘bathroom break’ so that when you attempt to pull your card out afterwards, he can simply smile and shake his head. goddamnit isagi. his argument is that growing up average and then getting propelled into wealth and fame means that he jumps at every opportunity to spoil you and show you off. you’re beautiful inside and out and he won’t treat you like anything less than a goddess.
bachira meguru! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩
୨୧ * bachira’s ideal s/o is either someone who loves retro 70s clothing, an indie band kid, or both combined. i feel like bachira’s goofy ass would go well with someone sweet, but not quite as hyperactive as himself. his ideal s/o is definitely either a bookworm or a guitarist, with no in between. he’s defo such a gremlin with you, either interrupting your peaceful reading sessions by being clingy and demanding cuddles, or asking you to play his favourite songs instead of the things you’re meant to be practicing.
୨୧ * bachira would go to every single one of guitarist!s/o’s gigs. he loves you so much, after all! you can hear his holler of your name over the crowds cheers as the speakers blare and your strings come to life. he’s not a memorisation-strong kind of guy, but he definitely knows all the lyrics to your favourite songs, and the lyrics to your originals, too. he has two versions of each one of your albums, one for the cd and one to add to the house-of-cd-cases-turned-shrine he has assembled somewhere in your apartment.
୨୧ * whereas with bookworm!s/o, bachira got his mom to teach him how to paint so that he could do those viral page-edge paintings. on your birthday, he gifts you hardback copies of your favourite books with intricate fore-edge paintings to match. if your favourite book has a movie or tv show adaption that you love, he definitely painted your favourite scene. although he’s not an avid reader, bachira will listen to your attempts to summarise a recently-read novel, even if he’s not quite following by halfway through.
୨୧ * he also only sporadically posts on his socials, but when he does, it’s usually random shitposts or spam posts of the two of you together. maybe at a gig or at a bookstore, but they’re all ‘artistically’ blurry. still, both of your smiles are clearly visible despite the lack of phone camera focus.
chigiri hyoma! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩
୨୧ * if you tell me this man wouldn’t date a a fashion magazine editor!s/o, you’re lying. he’s such a princess, and i can just imagine him as being a passionate fashionista as well, so i think he’d suit someone with a similar love for and knowledge of style. bring this man to fashion week please. actually, he probably met you there. he defo also impulse buys designer, whether it’s bags, clothes or just a pair of shades. he’s a diva like that /hj
୨୧ * shopping is a battle to the death between the two of you on which store to go in next. there’s not enough hours in the working day to account for your retail therapy sessions, given how long the two of you spend browsing the aisles together. at some point you panic, wondering where you’ve misplaced $500 of clothes, until your boyfriend rolls his eyes and shakes the bags he’s holding. you don’t even remember giving him the bags.
୨୧ * the two of you definitely rate and critique met gala outfits together. contrary to what most may believe, it is a NEED, not a want. when someone comes wandering onto the red carpet dressed in this year’s fashion monstrosity, just know that the two of you will be referencing it for days if not weeks, because really, how could anyone have the guts to go out wearing that?
୨୧ * just hope that you’re good with hair, because this fussy princess isn’t going to let you within ten feet of his if you have a brush in hand and you aren’t. his hair is his prized possession for all that he does the bare minimum to look as dazzling as he does, and chigiri would rather not ruin it. but if you’re good at elaborate and pretty hairdos, just know that his winding down comfort time is letting you try out new styles, strands of pink dancing over one another as they’re weaved into place by your fingers.
kunigami rensuke! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩
୨୧ * kunigami’s so highschool sweethearts-coded. maybe you started dating before blue lock and persevered through his change in persona, knowing full well that his kind and hardworking self was still present under the gruff, cold exterior. maybe he pined after you hopelessly for years until stumbling upon you years later. either way, he’s been madly in love with you since your high school days, and don’t think he’ll ever stop.
୨୧ * but like oh my god, this man would SO date a kindergarten (or elementary school) teacher!s/o. someone who is doting and good with kids, but is also hardworking and knows how to reward people efforts or work on their lack thereof. maybe it’s his superhero agenda but i think early years teachers are heroes in themselves, teaching young children valuable life lessons and basic skills and subjects, and therefore i think kunigami would really suit a teacher!s/o.
୨୧ * bring this man to meet your students and give them an assembly on how taking care of themselves plus hard work are the keys to fulfilling their dreams. the way these kids would be screaming because their sweet, humble teacher is dating football phenomenon kunigami rensuke, and he’s here to tell them that alcohol and nicotine addictions aren’t healthy. plus, eat your greens, kids. you’ll become a superhero in no time.
୨୧ * kunigami is either hopeless at cooking, five star michelin-worthy malewife chef material, or, the most boring option, the most mid chef of all time. ‘mid’ as in, he can put together a decent meal but nothing mindblowing, only occasionally tries to cook something new. i like to think that as the middle child, his older sister is a lost cause when it came to cooking, and his younger sister is quite the closet gourmet, so he knows how to cook pretty damn well. just know that after a long day, if he’s home earlier than you, you can expect an array of delectable dishes and the most delicious feast you can imagine waiting for you.
mikage reo! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩
୨୧ * i feel like reo would date someone who is far from having grown up well-off, maybe someone who grew up with difficult domestic circumstances, someone who’s fought tooth and nail to reach where they are today. for this reason, i feel like he’d date a corporate ceo!s/o. he admires how you’re both self-assured and self-made, and how your success bloomed from your own efforts and skill. to reo, who’s grown up with privilege and wealth without ever really having to try before he found football, he can’t help but find your work ethic and resilience attractive. they say confidence is attractive, after all.
୨୧ * he loves to spoil you, but he definitely doesn’t buy your love. while a good portion of his gifts to you do involve a waving of his black card, and are often designer, he also likes the authenticity of doing something for you. after all, with all the money in the world, he worries material goods may seem like half-assed presents that can’t even convey half of his feelings towards you. especially a ceo!s/o, because he’d hate for you to feel belittled by his love just because he was born into money. that won’t do at all! so now reo invests a lot of his spare time learning to do things himself, so that he can then do those things for you.
୨୧ * one of those things was pottery. prior to the two of you moving in together, he had been taking classes on ceramics and pottery so that he could surprise you with his hand-crafted and painted dining set. plates, mugs, bowls—each of them were painted with motifs relevant to places you’d been together. from the tropical beaches of bali, to the mountain views of peru and even the most famous italian vineyards—every plate was painted to bear some resemblance to the backgrounds of photos you’d taken at these locations. after all, reo is quite the globetrotter, because he loves going on adventures with you.
୨୧ * but sometimes the best days are days when you can laze about together. listen, reo’s always been the type of guy to never have a moment of rest. he always had so many things to do, because he was so good at everything that people usually required more of him. not that it was impossible for him, but it did mean a lot of his life was always scheduled out, busy and hectic. that’s why reo relishes in the moments where can relax in your arms, away from prying eyes, the paparazzi, the outside world—he loves how you can make a day full of nothing everything to him.
or, nagi seishiro starts off on the wrong foot with you and faces the consequences, until he finally manages to say three words to you—albeit not quite the ones he’d had in mind.
content: pining, nagi’s lowkey down bad, wrong first impression -> misunderstandings, reo the accidental wingman, fem!reader, gyaru!reader, sfw
wc: 2.4k
nagi seishiro first notices you at the end of your high school’s opening ceremony. his parents are stood with him, wishing him luck now that he’s started high school, and tell him not to slack off too much. his mom gasps and lightly smacks his shoulder, peering over it. she says something about the student council president that, frankly, flies over nagi’s head given that he wasn’t really listening, but he turns round per his mother’s request. he politely bows when she pinches his arm, and his dad visibly stifles a laugh. and then he looks up.
when his eyes leave the ground, they land first on your brother—the student council president. but not even a second later, beyond your brother, his eyes fall upon you, brightly dyed hair and modified uniform on the first day. you and your brother have the same smile and look in your eyes, he notes, but other than that, you share little resemblance to one another.
your plethora of hair accessories in various bright shades are a stark contrast to the neat plainess of your brother’s muted natural hair, smartly combed back and nothing more. your bangles and bracelets are visible on your wrists, your sleeves haphzardly pulled up, but strangely enough, your parents seem nonplussed about your immediate violations of school rules. which to nagi, is rather weird in itself, since your brother—as he learns upon your parents introducing you and themselves to his own—is literally the third years’ respresentative.
from behind your brothers shoulder, you flash him an award-winning smile, pearly whites and all, offering him a friendly wave that he does not return. instead, he offers you a curious albeit blank stare. he’s never seen someone as, well, whatever you are, whether it be brave or stupid. he’s almost jealous of your liberty, your parents’ trust in you, given how you seemingly march to the rhythm of your own drum, being true to your desires without caring for the opinions of others. but he isn’t really, since nagi’s parents let him mostly slack off on the condition that he doesn’t drop out of school or flunk any finals.
regardless of the nagi’s though process, you must’ve taken his gaze as wordless judgement or nonverbal criticism, because from that day forth, it’s like nagi doesn’t even remotely exist in your world. your orbit never crosses paths with his own for all of your first year, despite you two being classmates, and nagi pretends that it doesn’t bother him. nagi goes about his first year of highschool glued to a phone and constantly half-asleep in every period, with no friends to whom he could confess that your blatant disregard of his existence bothered him more than anyone else’s.
nagi had never thought he’d see the day where he wanted more than to laze about, where being ignored and left to do as he wishes wasn’t enough. but he buries the truth and drifts through the changing seasons, pixels jumping around on his phone screen. there’s no game overs for him when he never played for keeps in the first place.
you live in two completely different worlds throughout the rest of spring, and all of summer, autumn and winter. despite this, from your barely-overlapping dimensions, held together by a thin string pulled taut known as school, you always seem to catch his eye. something about your laugh has nagi’s heart skip a beat before he can will it to stay calm.
he hates how other people can call your name so easily. “(y/n)!” your friends will call, their loud voices echoing down the hallway. this sort of ruckus is likely to bother nagi anyway, since it puts a particularly noisy damper on his chill and slow high school career, but it irks him in a way he doesn’t expect. it’s not so much a quiet sigh and a retreat to an unpopular staircase during lunch. no, it irritates him to hear other people call your name, and he dislikes how his idle life has been distrupted by your mere presence.
nagi likes to think he doesn’t hate anything besides from having to put too much effort in, because hating something in itself is too much effort. but he’s wrong—he despises how a smile and your shrieking laughter comes so easily around your friends, and yet it falls whenever you catch a glimpse of him.
he wonders whether things would’ve changed had he responded to your little wave during the orientation assembly. perhaps your smile would’ve been his to keep and etch into his brain like some sort of cerebral tattoo. perhaps he wouldn’t nap on random benches on campus, but instead on your lap, dozing away as you ramble on about your day. and he’d actually listen, despise being sleepy, because there’s something comforting about your voice, something unique and curious that leaves nagi itching for more.
nagi’s life has always been a bore, monochrome and greyscale in its mundane simplicity. but your vivid visage, saturated and smiling, remains a splash of fluorescent colour.
whenever you round the corner, missing him by short distances that feel so vast and infinite when nagi cannot hold nor even touch you, his heart flutters. for a long time, he doesn’t understand why. a year passes. he’s seventeen when he meets reo, not long after the start of second year, and you’re no longer in the same class.
nagi’s heart drops when he notices your name on the class signboard next to his own. he’s fallen. crestfallen. he sulks on a staircase playing a hack-and-slash pixel rpg until reo bumps into him. his life changes a little then—now and then, he finds himself putting in a little bit of effort, just to bring a smile to the face of the only person he’s ever called a friend. it’s still a rare occurence, however.
he’s zoning out at practice one day when you walk past with your flock. he pauses, water bottle still in hand from his extended break, and his eyes follow you in the flock of friends you’re surrounded by, his gaze never once leaving your radiant smile. he hasn’t seen you much since your classes had changed, but seeing you know brings nagi a sense of satisfaction he’s never really felt before. you’re prismatic and beaming, and then you stop, wave goodbye to your friends, and then you’re heading towards the field. in nagi’s direction.
nagi almost opens his mouth to say your name. he’s never said it before, never felt the letters roll off his tongue, never. he’s only ever echoed it in his head, let it linger like the scent of petrichor, savours it like a delicacy as if it satiates his thirst for more in life.
and he loses another chance when his heart drops further down his ribcage.
“reo!”
nagi’s friend whirls around from where he’s dribbling a ball absently, waiting for him to rejoin him on the field. reo’s face brightens instantly, and if it weren’t for nagi’s natural deadpan expression, his own face would be thunderous.
“(y/n),” reo greets, wandering over to talk to you. “did you get the text i sent you?”
nagi isn’t eavesdropping. way too much effort. there’s no need for him to do so.
you nod. not that nagi’s watching you from the corner of his eye or anything. “yeah, thanks for filling out the paperwork. the prez was all over the place worrying about the football team’s budget ‘til you stepped in.”
reo rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “it would’ve helped if the captain had been thoughtful enough to fill it in himself, but i’m cutting the senpai some slack, since i’m sure they’re all preoccupied with placement exams.”
at a fancy prep school like theirs, sports were often second-rate, and none of the school teams were particularly strong, and even the popular clubs definitely weren’t taken seriously as a prospective career paths. that’s why the student council often had a lot of problems sorting out budgets, since many of the teams left filling their sheets in until last minute, and very few even competed in tournaments.
last year, he’d listen to you complain about it to your best friend as you begrudgingly help out anyway. nagi thought it was because your brother was the school council president at the time, but your continued involvement shows you do it out of the good of your heart.
as class rep last year, and with your brother’s position, you had often been in contact with the student council, helping around when you could. nagi supposes you were voted in again this year. it wouldn’t come as a surprise to him. you have a lot of friends, after all.
reo turns to him, and nagi feels the back of his neck grow warm when your eyes make contact for the first time since that fateful but unfortunate first meeting of yours. your eyes on him are electric, and they send static through his body like a signal, and nagi blinks and thinks, the world is brighter than it was yesterday.
he knows he’s being ridiculous, but the speed of his heartbeat pulsing in his ears is enough though show he couldn’t care less.
“(y/n), have you met nagi?” reo says, slinging an arm around nagi’s shoulder. “you know, my treasure.” he looks to reo and he grins, beaming, and nagi’s mixed emotions are going haywire alongside the millions of thoughts in his head.
you couldn’t be any worse at hiding your scepticism, your brow cocking up before you school your features into something less patronisingly bemused. “we were in the same class last year,” you say, turning to him. “nagi seishiro-san.”
nagi’s about to get heatstroke.
you just said his name.
his heart skips a beat once more and he’s overwhelmed by the wave of relief and pride he feels hearing your name off his lips. in the whole year you spent as classmates, you had somehow never said his name, at least not where nagi could hear it. if the complete lack of interaction was one thing to keep nagi yearning, the utter disregard for his existence by your refusal to say his name had been another. alright, maybe he was being dramatic. maybe you’d brought him up somewhere or sometime when he couldn’t hear you. regardless of your intentions for doing so, only now does he recognise the utter rejection he felt, the ostracism and loneliness he felt.
he wonders is if that was how you had felt when you had mistaken his curiosity for judgement. nagi had never felt something like guilt or regret in his life until he had realised he’d set himself up for a struggle to form a relationship with when he’d given you the worst possible first impression.
if nagi were reo, he would be able to talk to you so naturally, to call your name without care. he’d laugh alongside you, be able to capture your smiles in millions of photographs, win as many colorful keychains and accessories at the arcade and give them to you without you being sceptical or wary.
if nagi had been reo, you wouldn’t look so glum whenever you see him, reminded of the rejection you felt on your first day. the feeling of not belonging, the feeling that no one would accept you as you are—although luckily that had been quickly disproved in your first semester. while the tables had turned and nagi was okay with that, he wanted to be able to stand by your side proudly, to be able to turn to you and say, “you’re fine as you are, so don’t worry about what anyone else thinks,” because that’s the truth.
but perhaps it’s because reo is there that nagi is able to say what he wants to say. perhaps it’s because where your absence has left a void, reo introduced him to football, and he had something else to do to pass the time instead of pine after you hopelessly. maybe it’s because somewhere between reo’s declaration and now, reo has become a true friend, and nagi’s only friend, and he gives him the courage to want and to do.
so nagi stands there, opens his mouth, and says, “yeah, we were.” three words. not necessarily the ones he wanted, but he doesn’t think those would go down very well with you as of now, so he keeps them buried until the day he can dig them up and tell you the truth.
you look vaguely surprised to even hear him speak, but reo brushes past that and says, “oh, really?” and you nod, attempting to not purse your lips.
you shuffle in your place awkwardly. “anyway, can you remind your senpai that all the club captains have a budget meeting tomorrow? i don’t know him very well, and i have to go now anyway, so it’d be a big help.”
“sure, no problem,” reo shrugs, “see you tomorrow.”
“yeah, see ya,” you say, and briefly, your eyes flicker to nagi. “you too, nagi-san,” you say, turning to leave, and all nagi has to say is ‘see you,’ but—
“(y/n),” nagi calls, immortalising the moment your name leaves his lips in his head, and you stop in your tracks. you don’t turn around completely, but you do a half-spin and your head sort of cranes over your shoulder, as if to obscure how wide your eyes have grown.
“yes?” you ask, and it’s clear you’re uncomfortable and more than ready to leave. it’s not like he’s ever said your name before, never spoken to you, never given you the time of day.
“your hair,” nagi says, searching for words, “it suits you.”
that last sentence was three words, but still not the three words nagi actually wants to say. but at least now he’s worked out what those words are, and that he’s probably been lovesick since the moment he laid eyes on you and lovelorn after falling in love with the you who doesn’t want anything to do with him.
but you don’t know what goes on in nagi’s head when he says it, and even reo’s taken aback as you gawk, unsure of how to react—because you’d spent a year completely positive that nagi seishiro found you gaudy, garish and gross.
he’s not the best at the whole ‘talking about your feelings’ thing, or at least not the romantic side of it, but he loves you in subtle ways of his own
content: fluff, established relationship, aged up characters, gn!reader, sfw
wc: 0.8k
he typically walks fast. he takes quick, long strides and seems to cover twice the walking mileage that most people do in the same amount of time. damn him and his long legs.
but while he very much can walk that fast, and it’s probably more comfortable for him, he doesn’t. instead, he strolls idly by your side, fingers intertwined, without a care in the world. if he begins to pace ahead, he notices almost immediately, and slows back down, his footsteps matching your own.
you don’t even realise he does it, because his expression remains completely deadpan. you don’t notice his quick glance down at the pavement, or how naturally he falls into step with you. never straying too far from your side has become second nature to him. after all, he belongs with you, although it’s way too embarrassing to tell you that out loud. he’s not the verbally romantic type to begin with, so don’t expect him to go around broadcasting stuff like that.
when you’re out buying groceries at the store together, he sneaks in more of your favourite snacks to buy, even when you’ve sufficiently stocked up on them in the cart. even if he hates your favourite food—whether it’s the smell, the texture or just the taste itself that he despises so vehemently—the last thing he’ll do is deprive you of it. you shouldn’t feel obligated to not get the stuff you want just because he doesn’t like it.
while you’re browsing the aisles, he makes sure you’re always within his field of view, lest you get lost looking for a specific item. when you reach the refrigerated sections, he comes up behind you as you push the trolley together, his hands over yours on the handle bar, huddled up like penguins. he doesn’t want to see you shivering in the cold, even for a minute, and he doesn’t care if people give them odd looks as you point out a product from between his arms and the trolley.
and when you get to the counter and gasp, fretting that you’ve forgotten something, he sighs and almost rolls his eyes, but he still goes running to grab it before you get to the front of the queue. he runs like he’s on the pitch, sprinting past broke college students, off-work corporate workers, elderly couples, newlyweds, parents with brooding teenagers—everyone in the supermarket. everybody’s now openly gawking at the renowned footballer running through the store like he’s headed for the winning goal of the world cup, trainers squeaking against the tiled floor. he snatches two bottles of scented detergent from the shelf before turning on his heel and immediately heading back to you at record speed.
though he didn’t even break a sweat, and made it back to you with incredible haste, his heart flutters when you grin, taking the bottles from his hands and placing them on the conveyor belt. “i’m lucky to have you, aren’t i?” you laugh as he grumbles, taking you into his arms. “thanks, darling.”
and when he’s running late back from practice, he thinks of you as he’s driving home and pulls into the parking lot of your favourite coffee shop. he knows your order down to the smallest details of the random extras you like to ‘spice up’ your drink, so he orders that alongside a snack he knows you’ll like before heading back to the car.
upon hearing him unlock the door, you immediately get up to greet him and help take his stuff off him to put away. propping yourself up on your tiptoes to give him his daily welcome home kiss, you are pleasantly surprised by him handing over your freshly-made order. you resist the urge to tackle him, since he’s in the process of taking his shoes off at the door, so instead you opt for throwing yourself at him and smothering him with kisses, which is still an affectionate assault, but shhhh, neither of you are complaining.
“you didn’t have to, baby,” you say, beaming, “but thank you.”
he fails miserably at hiding his flushed cheeks. “it’s only ‘cos i feel bad keeping you waiting for me at home.”
“not ‘cos you love me, then?” you harrumph, pouting playfully, only for him to slither his arms around you and wrap you up in a bear hug.
“well, that too,” he relents, clicking his tongue.
“would you be willing to say it yourself, then?” you tease.
“no.”
“please?”
“(y/n).”
“mhm? alright, then,” you say, wryly, playfully prying him off you. “i see how it is.” you turn to walk away when he pulls you back into him, not done with you yet. he buries his face in your shoulder, the action muffling the embarrassing confession that he begrudgingly allows you the privilege of hearing.
he’s spent ages planning the perfect moment to add to his lover agenda™ and immortalise your love story with a promise of devotion for all time
content: bllk charas x gn! reader, proposals, sfw, fluff
wc: 0.3k
he draws miniature galaxies onto the flesh of your back, hands slipping underneath the fabric of your his t-shirt, and thanks the heavens that you don’t stir from your sleep. he’s no artist by any means—far from it, in fact—but he loves the way you feel, the way you feel so right in his arms.
you’re still asleep as the sun rises behind silhouettes of skyscrapers, still blissfully unaware as he wishes on the invisible stars he’s drawn onto your skin. it’s a silent, secret prayer.
his blackout curtains are not fully drawn, so the golden hue of early dawn slip through the gaps. when he checks his phone, it’s little past five in the morning, so you still have plenty of time. if he carefully slips away now, it’s unlikely that you’ll wake up immediately, since you’re still jet-lagged from your flight. perfect timing.
he lifts his arms from your body, reluctant to leave you even for a moment after just a week apart, but doesn’t move from the bed. instead he takes a moment to admire every feature of your sleeping face, your lips barely parted and your peaceful expression.
your hair is dishevelled, strewn around your pillows, and your side of the bed is much less organised than his own. it’s a manmade mountain range built from crumpled sheets, blankets discarded in your sleep, and decorative pillows and plushies having been nudged around (and off) the bed at some point during the night.
doesn’t make you any less beautiful than you are every day. there’s nothing and nobody in the world who could enrapture him, have him as bewitched and enchanted as you do, even when you’re not awake to do so.
he snaps a picture and can already hear you shrieking, leaping to pry his phone from his hands, insisting you look a mess, face flushed with embarrassment. “don’t you dare!” you’d squeal as he’d take your attempted assault as an attempt at a hug, and he’s take both your hands in his before trapping you in an enveloping embrace. if he was lucky, your short-lived fury would melt away into giggles as you hugged him back, and if not so much, you’d flick his forehead and call him a hopeless idiot.
“well,” he’d then say, “at least i’m your hopeless idiot.”
begrudgingly, he pushes himself up off the mattress, and basks in the early morning haze for a few more minutes as he strokes your hair. you scrunch up your nose, and he freezes, afraid he’s woken you up, but your face relaxes and he breathes out a sigh of relief. knowing he’s wasted enough time watching over you—well, actually, it’s not a waste when it comes to you, but he’s got other things on his lover agenda™ to do for you today—he slips out the bed and slinks out your shared bedroom.
as he opens the door to leave, he glances back at your sleeping form, overwhelming affection and unmistakable adoration in his eyes. his gaze falls on the band around your finger, the very one he slipped onto your hand upon waking up in the morning, praying to still his pounding heart and hoping the sensation didn’t wake you. he wonders if breakfast in bed will be enough to distract you from its presence, which is still unbeknownst to your sleeping self, so that he can ask you properly. after all, a delicious meal is a sure-fire way to an 100% guarantee that you’ll say yes—not that he thinks you’d say no in the first place.
not with the way you flung your arms around him when you flew in yesterday. you’d only flown out to attend a close childhood friend’s wedding in your hometown, which had coincidentally happened to be during an important match week, so you’d had to go alone, much to his displeasure, which had been made clear at his next meeting with his manager. that had been the first time you’d spent so long away from each other in a very long time.
he knows you’ll say yes, because long distance for almost a year had been unbearable, but love had prevailed when you showed up at his apartment one day with a suitcase, beaming so brightly that he picked you up and spun you around before kissing you like it was a scene from a drama. “you’re stuck with me, now,” you’d told him teasingly, pressing chaste kisses along his jawline. “i have a job here now, so i guess you have no choice but to lemme stay with you.”
”oh, well, hm—then i guess i don’t,” he’d said, pretending it was a decision requiring much consideration. “but you’re stuck with me too now, so no taking it back, alright?”
he’s got it all planned out on his lover agenda™ for today. at some point later, when you notice the intricate and beautiful ring on your finger, he’ll simply smile innocently at you. “wanna stay with me for the rest of our lives? i do have to warn you in advance—if you say yes, you’re stuck with me forever, so no take-backs.”
and when you shriek and leap into his alarms at the speed of a shooting star, he’ll press kisses to your forehead, trying to hide his tears of joy when you tell him, ecstatically, “i’m yours, forever and always, so no take-backs.”
or, itoshi rin loves you, infinitely, even when you’re struggling to find reasons why he should
content: insecurity (physical & emotional), hurt/comfort, pro footballer!rin, gn!reader, non-celeb!reader, established relationship, sfw
wc: 1.4k
rin always holds you close and let you cry into the crook of his neck when you need him the most, rubbing soothing circles onto your back, comforting and warm. he doesn’t complain about the tear stains on his shirt—instead, he stays there with you in his arms for hours on end. it’s as if there isn’t anything in the world that could move him until you’ve had enough of him.
rin is always understanding. he’s had his own depressive episodes—(often sae-related) symptoms of his unresolved abandonment issues, the fear of not being good enough. yet in those difficult moments, the one who’d worked through all of it with him had been you. so it’s only natural rin plays his part to repay you, to show gratitude for the fact you’re in his life.
life can be cruel, and the world can be cold. people can be both, even if they don’t mean to be. but rin is neither when it comes to you.
some days are better than others, and others may be worse than most. but no matter what’s led to your subsequent breakdown, rin doesn’t question it, he simply lets you cry it out. and if you’re willing to let go of him for a short moment, he’ll be back in no time after making some hot cocoa and getting your favourite sweet snacks, and he’ll carry you—clinging onto him like a baby koala—to your shared bedroom.
once you’re both comfortably sprawled across the bed with a variety of scrumptious delicacies on your bedside cabinet, you muster up the courage to speak up. rin is attentive: his eyes never leave you once while you rant, but his gaze never grows bored, nor does it show signs of it being childish indulgence or empty support. no, rin will sympathise, and never does less than his best to help you through it.
insecurity is not linear, nor is grief or worry. most of the time, there’s no trigger, nor is it a culmination of many miseries. it isn’t straightforward at all, not something that can be ‘fixed’. you’re not ‘broken’ for feeling that way. you’re human, that’s all there is to it.
to be honest, when you tell rin that you sometimes feel unworthy to be by his side, he doesn’t understand. “you’re the itoshi rin, and i’m, well, this,” you say, scoffing a little at the end.
he doesn’t get how you can undermine yourself like that, how you don’t see all the things—whether they’re as easy to spot as the sky above or a miniscule thing even you’re unaware of yourself—that make you so beautiful. to rin, you’re divine. heaven on earth is your feather-light touch, your smile when you look at him, your laughter whenever rin makes a sour face as if he’s just bitten into a lemon because someone’s annoyed him. heaven is every moment he spends with you.
somehow—god knows how—you don’t see that.
sometimes loving rin is all you know, but other times you know he’s so gorgeous that he catches the eye and captures the hearts of all who pass him by. in your eyes, you’re by no means special, but he is. rin’s beautiful in the way his brows furrow when he wakes up in the morning, thick, dark lashes fluttering like butterfly wings as they begrudgingly blink up. the world knows rin’s beautiful, too, because you see it under every post he makes on social media. you know the world loves rin (maybe just not as much as you do) when they scream his name as he walks onto the pitch. he’s like an idol, the way they treat him, with the name banners and the feral fans.
you don’t blame them. who can resist itoshi rin?
you don’t understand how rin can love you, when your ‘imperfections’ are all you can see when you look in the mirror. when you compare your body to that of the celebs that rin’s fans ship him with, or nonsense gossip magazines photoshop him with, because you can imagine rin with someone else—someone more beautiful, more talented. surely there’s a million other alternatives. surely someone as beautiful and special as rin deserves someone equally beautiful and special, someone who can match him, someone deserving.
“sometimes i think you deserve better than me. you’re too good for someone like me.”
when the truth you’d buried comes tumbling out your mouth one night, rin simply cannot comprehend how you could possibly think that. if anything, you’re the one who deserves better than him, right? you simply just settled for him, when you could’ve done much better.
“how could i ever want anyone who isn’t you?” rin says, gritting his teeth. “how can you say you’re undeserving?”
and he pulls you into the most devastating kiss, his hands roaming your beautiful body, every edge and every curve, warm and strong. your hands claw at his shoulders, grasping, and you’re breathless as rin’s lips leave yours momentarily, before they’re slamming back into yours once more.
“you’re beautiful,” rin confesses against your lips, before drawing back. something warm falls on your cheek. when your eyes refocus, rin’s crying. “i love everything about you. all that you are. i can’t explain it. i don’t need to pinpoint your best feature when everything about you is the best. you don’t need to be perfect. i don’t believe in that shit anymore. i just want you to be yourself. i want you to be proud of who you are, and i want you to be happy when you’re with me.”
you reach up to wipe rin’s tears away, feeling your own eyes sting with the telltale warning of your tears’ return. however, rin simply takes your hand in his own, and holds it against his cheek.
“i could spend the rest of my life telling you all the things i love about you, because i’d have to talk about everything about you,” rin says, and your breath hitches in your throat. your boyfriend is a man of few words, he’s always been a patient listener when it comes to you. confessing that he’s willing to talk about everything he loves about you for the rest of his life isn’t a small feat.
the day you broke down rin’s walls and entered his monochrome world, he began to believe in love again. and now he’s learned to simply love again, he’s not going to stop loving you.
and now you’re tearing up again. “i wish i could love myself as much as you love me,” you whisper. “there’s so much i hate about myself.” the words don’t roll off your tongue easily—they’re hesitant, reluctant, like a secret.
“then let me love you,” rin says. “i’ll love all the things you love about yourself and the things you hate about yourself. i’ll love you so much that you’ll learn to love the things you hate about yourself. i’ll remind you of how much i love everything you are, every day, whenever you need me, always.” his turquoise eyes are ablaze, and they look like blue-green flames, scorching with passion and love. “if you don’t want to face your fears alone, i’ll be with you. if you want time to yourself, i’ll wait for you. i’ll keep loving you, even when you’ve forgotten how to love yourself.”
when he pulls you close again, you rest your head against his torso, and you can hear the racing rhythm of his beating heart. in his arms, you feel warm, complete.
“i love you, rin. thank you. i think i really needed that today.”
rin exhales shakily, and you feel the vibration of his chest. “i love you. so damn much.” his hold of you tightens slightly, gentle but protective. “i love you because of who you are. if you decide to change for yourself, i’ll still love you. if you can’t love yourself, i love you for all the self-love you’re missing. and i’ll never stop loving you. don’t you dare forget that.”
pls include tone indicators bc i struggle with tones over text | but only if u think ur msg does not have a clear tone when ur interacting w/ me, doesn’t have to be constant :)
requests * open!
i will try to write your requests, but bear in mind that it’s not my obligation to write your request if i feel like i’m unable to do it justice (e.g. i’m unfamiliar with the intricacies of your rq’d character), am uncomfortable with or if it’s in violation of my rules
i’m not good at writing things around mental health conditions as i have no personal experience and do not feel comfortable writing based on assumption. furthermore, i find certain conditions triggering such as eds, so i will not be writing about them, sorry but thank you
i don’t write canon x canon (altho i do have my own ships, which i’m all for fangirling over) or x m!reader as i don’t feel like i can write them in a way i can be satisfied with
i also don’t write x child!reader or ft. child!reader, i’ll write about the reader with a child or about parenthood, but not with the reader as the child
interacting
if i’m uncomfy w/ smth brought up in conversation, i will probably cut off contact & remove the following * we’re just strangers on the internet, nothing personal, ty
no unsolicited trauma dumping when interacting (unless part of convo or we’re mutuals) pls pls pls * if i get uncomfy i’ll have to block u, sorry :(
pls be kind to me! pls respect my boundaries * i will do my best to interact positively, but i am also not obligated to respond when i don’t want to
i’m open to moots! * i’d love to have any mutuals willing to ramble abt different fandoms with me, albeit i won’t always respond immediately
