Levi Ackerman The Type Of Boyfriend Who Would Never Lay Eyes On Another Woman. Who Would Watch You Sleep

i NEED chapter 3 right now!!🙏🏻

COOL WITH YOU 💽

SYNOPSIS: yn is part of a popular group called newjeans and megumi is a computer science major who probably doesn't give 2 shits about newjeans but then yuji drags him to a festival and that possibly changes his mind

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀FEELINGS SO RIGHT

- college!megumi x college!femreader

WARNINGS: both reader and megumi are in college, reader is in a kpop group, idol!reader, takes place during summer 2024, strangers to lovers, opposites attract, characters are aged up, fem reader, cursing, smau + written, slow burn, angst, fluff, possible occ, [indiviual warnings for each chapter]

STATUS: ongoing !

WHAT’S YOUR ETA? ↳ everything yn | everything megumi

LETS TALK ASAP: hii, we’re newjeans! ~ megumis friends ~ other

01: obnoxious music

02: super shy? no, super lucky

03:

04:

©megumislovedoll all rights reserved. do not translate, repost on other platforms, modify, or copy.

Wanted to try and have a go with these, apologies if any have been made already

i probably should have posted this on twitter but… straight men be sounding like the gays on stan twitter when it comes to their favorite anime male characters and it’s so fucking funny LMAOOO like men infiltrate jjk edit comment sections and they’ll be arguing back and forth about gojo and sukuna like oh “fraudkuna” “goatjo” “twinkjo” “fagkuna” “my glorious king gojo” “godkuna”- or even the way they bully megumi for being pretty. men generally make things unfun to watch especially the shonen genre but this shit be sending me because these be grown ahh men yall! they wanna fuck those male characters sooo bad. god forbid a girl calls one of those characters hot or makes a thirst edit and they’re calling her every unholy name in the book… but this is how they act?

I love them, and they love each other

He is so effortlessly handsome.

my life will be yours if you make a fic about sae with a foreign reader, they met at some random cafe where he was because he wanted some peace and quiet, and he just so happened to see reader, who’s a bit clumsy and accidentally spilled their coffee on him, and so they offered to clean it for him (or buy him the same one.) somehow, he seems so enchanted by reader that he just wordlessly nods, even though he could buy like 10 copies of the same (expensive) sweater he was wearing right now, and he just kind of follows reader around like a lost puppy, and reader finds it super adorable!! he just buys whatever the reader wants, even if they just look at it for one split second, and he’s already checking it out and swiping his card :)) aaaarghfhf i love sae he’s such a cutie +_+

accidental love at first sight

itoshi sae x foreigner!reader. fluff fluff fluff

the meeting went to shit quicker than expected, and after hearing two dozen grown men shouting over each other for several minutes, sae was in desperate need of some peace and quiet.

with the strap of his shoulder bag tight in a fist, sae stepped into the first empty cafe he saw. he’d been back in japan for less than two days and was already sick of it. he wanted nothing more than to hop on a plane to anywhere but there.

he rolled the sleeves of his loewe knit cardigan up to his elbows as he ordered. personally, he thought the sweater was hideous. it’d been a gift from his company back in pain, and his manager insisted on having him wear it to the meeting as a sign of wealth and respect.

sae took his number from the cashier and found one of the empty tables to set his things at. a sigh naturally left his lips as he fell into the booth, not caring if the wood did nothing to cushion his landing. he was exhausted, mentally and physically, and wanted nothing more than to drink his coffee and return to his hotel.

it didn't take nearly as long as it did in spain for him to receive his drink, and sae stood to grab a napkin.

peace and quiet. what a joke.

not two seconds after he stood, a body slammed directly into him, knocking the coffee out of his hand and sending the hot liquid down the front of his cream sweater. sae kept his face neutrally blank, but the breath he let out trembled around the edges.

"oh no, i'm so sorry!" a voice shouted in panicked, broken japanese. when sae opened his eyes, he knew right away that you were visiting from out of town, like him.

your face was pale as you wiped napkins over his chest, pushing the dark coffee further into the expensive fabric. your rambling continued in a language sae didn't speak, and before you could embarrass either of them any further, he clasped a hand over your wrist to bring your nervous scrubbing to a stop.

"i'm clumsy," you scolded yourself, fists balling the napkins now soaked through with coffee. "i will buy you a new drink." you weren't asking, and sae didn't know if you were being assertive or if it was the slight language barrier. no matter the reasoning, he found himself nodding along wordlessly.

"i will buy your sweater, too," you offered while approaching the cashier, but when sae told you the price, you flashed a large, nervous grin. "i will clean your sweater. sorry, i said buy by mistake."

sae didn't know what it was about you, but your words brought a small smile to his lips. he couldn't help but be utter enchated by you as you ordered and paid for his replacement drink before informally asking (more like demanding) for his number. "for the, uh, sweater!"

"we can go now," sae surprised himself by offering, but the way your face brightened made him glad he suggested it. "alright! i have no plans. let's go!"

☆ ☕️

sae hardly remembered offering you his number, but he couldn't forget the feel of your fingers against his palm as you plucked the scrap of paper from his hand.

that was two weeks ago. sae often lost interest in things in two minutes. however, two whole weeks later, and he still jumped anytime his phone made a noise, chest aching at the thought that it could be you. most of the time it was, as you loved texting him about your day and wishing him luck at work.

you: Are you busy today? I would love to see you before my flight home!

sae: not busy. i'll pick you up and we can go shopping

you: Alright! I will be ready to leave in twenty minutes 😄

he couldn’t say no to you. not that he wanted to; sae would follow you anywhere, buy you anything. he learned, after you took his number while beaming up at him, that he would do anything to make you smile like that again.

even if it meant hurting his wallet for the next few hours.

“what do you think of this one? i feel like it is too sweet on me.” you brought your freshly spritzed wrist to his nose, where sae inhaled the scent of peach blossoms. definitely sweet, but he liked it on you.

“do you want it?”

you hummed and took another sniff. “it’s not too sweet..?”

sae nudged your wrist with his finger. “i like it on you.”

“then i will buy it!”

sae followed you around the outlet with no intentions of letting you pay for anything. anytime you tried, he’d give the cashier a death glare and slip his black card across the counter when they lied and said yours wasn’t compatible with their foreign system.

it got so bad that you had to ask sae to stop trying to buy everything you looked at. “i don’t need a solid gold chess set, really! please put the card away.”

though he had terrible financial responsibility, sae followed you around like a lost puppy, and you found that utterly adorable. “i will miss you when i fly back home. are we friends? can i text you?”

“yes,” sae answered without hesitation. his face remained blank, but you noticed the very tips of his ears were slightly flushed and smiled big at him. “to both.”

“then i will text you! and maybe i will return so you can take me on a real date!”

more than just the tips of sae’s ears turned pink when you leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “until then, friend!”

an: the friend zone is temporary they def hold hands and kiss in cafes

જ⁀♡⊹｡° the world ended when it happened to me

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — for my childhood best friends to lover series :)

♡ word count — 1.3k

♡ content — sae itoshi x fem! reader, sae itoshi x fem! reader, angst i fear, goes from childhood to the U-20 game, no real explanation for why sae comes back from spain lowkey evil (canon), rin blames reader for sae changing, rin and reader are best friends, best friends brother trope

♡ synopsis — your whole life you've loved sae itoshi, but maybe childhood love wasn't as glamourous as everyone made it seem.

You were always around the Itoshi brothers.

Rin’s best friend, the annoyingly happy girl who somehow made yourself at home in their lives. Sae used to think you were a menace, a constant storm of giggles and relentless chatter that disrupted the quiet balance of his house.

You had been Rin Itoshi’s best friend for as long as you could remember — a whirlwind of energy and relentless optimism, the complete opposite of the quiet, serious boy who barely cracked a smile. But for some reason, he tolerated you. Maybe even liked you, though he'd never admit it.

Sae, on the other hand, made no secret of his disdain.

“Why is she always here?” he muttered one afternoon, rubbing his temples as you sang loudly along to a cartoon theme song.

“She’s my friend,” Rin mumbled through a mouthful of snacks.

“She’s annoying,” Sae shot back, glaring as you dramatically collapsed on the floor like you’d been shot.

“I heard that!” you chirped, grinning up at him.

“Good.”

And yet, the first time you barged into his room, he didn’t yell.

He was sick, curled up in bed, voice scratchy as he warned you from across the room, “Get out. You’ll get sick, idiot.”

But you didn’t listen. You tiptoed in, holding out a crumpled drawing with three stick figures labeled "Rin," "Sae," and "Me," all holding hands beneath a bright yellow sun.

“I made this,” you whispered, as if speaking too loudly would break him. “I wanted you to have it.”

Sae stared at the paper, throat tight. He didn’t thank you, didn’t smile, just turned his head and muttered, “Whatever.”

The week he recovered, his phone rang. He sighed when he saw your name, swiping to answer as he rubbed at his temple.

“You were right,” you croaked, voice completely hoarse. “I got sick.”

Sae rolled his eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Yeah. You could stick around.

By the time you started middle school, you were practically part of the Itoshi household. You and Rin stuck together like glue.

You struggled with English — despised it, really — and Rin tried to help, but he wasn’t patient like Sae. So, you turned to the older brother, begging for tutoring sessions.

“No,” he said flatly when you asked.

“Please?” you pleaded, clasping your hands.

“You’re hopeless,” he muttered, but he still helped you.

Sae pretended to hate it, acted like he was being forced to suffer through your presence. But he showed up every day after school, meticulously explaining grammar rules while you doodled on the edges of your notebook.

Somewhere along the way, he started looking forward to those afternoons.

He liked the way you tilted your head when you were confused, how you brightened like the sun when he praised you for getting an answer right. He liked that it was just the two of you — no Rin, no distractions. Just you and him, your elbow knocking against his as you leaned in close to read from his textbook.

And maybe, in your twelve-year-old heart, you started feeling the same.

When Sae was recruited for the Real Madrid Academy at thirteen, the entire town buzzed with excitement. Everyone said it was a miracle, that Sae Itoshi would change Japanese soccer forever.

You were proud of him. But when you lay in bed that night, staring at your ceiling, all you wanted was to beg him to stay.

To keep being your tutor. To keep being around.

The night before he left, Sae texted you to meet him at the park. You assumed Rin would be there, but when you asked, Sae just shrugged.

“He fell asleep,” he said, licking his ice cream.

The truth was, he hadn’t told Rin at all.

You sat on the bench together, you pouting as you flipped the stick in your hand to reveal the kanji for "bad luck," while Sae’s said "good luck."

“Why are you lucky at everything?” you grumbled, tossing your stick aside.

Sae chuckled, the sound low and rare. He started dribbling his soccer ball between his feet, gaze focused as he said, “You can still call me, you know?”

“Huh?”

“For school stuff. Or... whatever.” He didn’t look at you when he said it.

In your childish mind, that was enough. You smiled, bright and unburdened.

“It’s a promise!”

“Yeah,” Sae echoed, teal eyes flicking to yours. “It’s a promise.”

He left a week later.

Rin fell apart without his brother. You stayed by his side, comforting him through the ache of Sae’s absence. And yet, you hid your phone under your pillow at night, quietly texting Sae about homework or your day.

You stayed by Rin’s side, comforting him, hiding the fact that you and Sae texted constantly. He never texted Rin. Only you.

Two years of texts and rare calls passed, and one night, the realization hit you like a freight train: you were in love with Sae.

You’d loved him since he got you sick, since he bought you ice cream, since he promised you could still talk to him.

You’d loved him since he caught the flu,

Since he drew diagrams in your notebook to help you with prepositions,

Since he made that promise to answer your calls.

One late-night call sealed your fate.

As you rambled on the phone about school, Sae mumbled, half-asleep, “I love your voice.”

You stopped talking, heart hammering, but by the time you opened your mouth to respond, he was snoring.

“I love you, Sae,” you whispered into the receiver.

“I love you too,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep, one eye cracking open to catch your stunned expression.

From then on, you and Sae were together. Quietly, distantly, but together.

When Sae came back at seventeen, he didn’t tell you.

Rin did.

rin-rin: Sae’s home

his text said.

rin-rin: I hope you enjoy that you’ve ruined him

You panicked, blowing up Rin’s phone with calls he never answered, some being sent straight to voicemail after the first few tries. And then Sae was at your door, taller, sharper, his face unreadable.

You burst into tears before you even spoke.

“Please talk to Rin,” you begged, clutching at his sleeve. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’ll fix it — please, just talk to him—”

But the look in Sae’s eyes was like ice, gorgeous, but dangerous- unsafe- fated to slip away

“You’re a bother,” he said, voice flat.

You froze.

“Huh?”

“You’ve clung to me since you were a kid. You’re nothing but a disease I need to get rid of.”

You laughed, shaky and desperate. “Sae, that’s not funny—”

“I’m not joking. I’m done with you.”

The wind howled as snowflakes caught in his hair. You collapsed to the floor, hugging your knees as Sae turned on his heel, leaving you crumpled on your doorstep, the door swinging in the cold winter wind.

You lost both Itoshis in one night. And you didn’t even know why.

A year and a half later, you sat alone in your living room, watching the Blue Lock vs. Japan U-20 match.

Rin, your old best friend, was on one team. Sae, your first love, was on the other.

And you stayed home, stuck in the same town, the same life, still struggling with English.

The camera zoomed in on Sae’s face, and something inside you snapped.

Without thinking, you hurled the remote at the screen, a crack spiderwebbing across his perfect, indifferent, calm, beautiful, heartbreakingly distant expression

The TV shut off, leaving you in suffocating silence.

Sae Itoshi had everything he wanted — fame, success, the world at his feet.

And you were still here. Stuck. Left behind.

Trying to understand how the world ended for you, while for Sae, it had only just begun.

You curled up on the couch, burying your face in a pillow as the weight of it all crushed you.

You’d lost them. Both of them.

And you didn’t even know why.

GO LISTEN TO WE HUG NOW BY SYDNEY ROSE NOW!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

જ⁀♡⊹｡° stranger, that's all i see

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — the 7th ( and last ) part to my seven petals, all poison series! ( masterlist )

♡ word count — 1.8k

♡ content — sae itoshi x fem! reader , sae and reader are 30-31 ish , established relationship ( married ), divorce hinted at ( and said toward the end ), one sided relationship, sae falling out of love with reader, harsh sae, tbh idk what else to add :), not proofread!

♡ synopsis — Ten years ago, you fell in love with a rising star in Spain. A whirlwind romance, a quiet wedding, a promise of forever. But forever is starting to feel like a one-sided vow. Sae Itoshi still wears his ring—but the space beside you in bed stays cold. And love, as it turns out, doesn’t survive on silence.

── .✦ when i look into your eyes, a soulmate who wasn't meant to be

You used to think silence was romantic.

In the beginning, there was something beautiful about sitting next to him in a café with nothing to say, yet feeling everything. Fingers lightly brushing over ceramic coffee mugs, eyes meeting across the table, your knee barely grazing his under the small table. 

You always thought he was a storm kept still just for you. Even his quiet held weight, meaning.

But now?

Silence is a weight you carry alone.

You stare at the seat across from you—his seat. Your fork scrapes across porcelain as you push asparagus and roasted chicken around your plate, untouched. 

Another dinner alone. 

Another meal you plated with too much hope. 

You still try, out of habit. 

You’ve been trying for ten years.

Your eyes flick to the digital clock on the oven.

9:47 PM.

You used to wait.

Now, you just clean up.

You met him in Madrid, fresh out of university, wide-eyed and brilliant with a pen. 

You were a translator at first, then a sideline reporter, and then a full-on broadcaster with glowing reviews. Your Spanish lilted and playful, your insight sharp. 

You caught his eye with the way you didn’t flinch at his silence. How you challenged him, even when others backed away.

Sae Itoshi was the prodigy.

You were just...you.

He said he liked your honesty. You liked his contradictions. He was all ice, but when he touched you, he burned.

You dated for a year. Engaged the next. Married the one after that. It was fast, but it made sense. You were both dreamers in your own ways. He had a career that stole him from the world. You had a world you were willing to shrink, just to stay in his orbit.

At twenty-four, you thought love was enough.

You’ve grown into a different version of yourself—your thirties are here. Your friends are planning holidays with their kids, attending parent-teacher nights, adopting dogs they name after old musicians.

You show up to everything alone.

“Oh, where’s Sae?”

You used to smile and say, “Training.”

Now, you sip your drink and shrug. “You know him.”

Because you do know him. Or at least, you did.

But that version of him—the boy who kissed you in your rain-wet hallway after a win, the man who promised you Venice and three kids and a house with a garden—is gone. 

Or maybe he never existed outside the breathless version of him you imagined in your twenties.

When the season ends, he’s home more. Kind of. You wake up to the sound of him showering. You hear him shuffle around the kitchen, pouring cereal, never coffee. He leaves the bowls in the sink.

He doesn’t ask how you are. He doesn’t notice the way your hand lingers on the fridge, or how your eyes are always just a little too glassy.

It’s not cruel. It’s just...empty. And that hurts more.

The house is quiet—too quiet for something so big. The kind of silence that fills your chest like smoke and refuses to leave.

You stand in the living room with your arms crossed, staring up at the one thing in this house that still feels alive.

A portrait.

Large and centered above the fireplace, preserved like a shrine: your wedding photo.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been standing there, just looking at it. But time doesn’t matter. Not in this house. Not anymore.

You, in that dress you spent weeks hunting for—a soft ivory with a dramatic, low back and a train that shimmered every time you moved. You remember how the lace felt under your fingertips. How your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. How your mother cried when she buttoned you in.

And Sae—

Sae looked at you like you were the only real thing in the world. His hand was at your waist, his mouth pressed against your temple, and the corner of his lips lifted just slightly in a way no one else ever saw.

You remember everything. The flowers you picked out together. The laughter that rang through the courtyard when your uncle accidentally tripped on the runner. The music—God, the music—you two danced to that soft jazz track he liked. He didn’t even want a first dance until he saw how badly you did.

Your fingers tremble as they drift to the ring on your hand.

You twist it, slowly.

You remember the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles when he slid it on. “You sure about this?” he asked, and you’d smiled, breathless. “Always.”

That girl is a ghost now. Her voice lives only in your memories.

You feel your throat tighten.

Then— A voice, sharp and cold, cuts through the haze:

“What are you staring at?”

You jump, heart in your throat.

Sae stands at the doorway, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He’s home earlier than usual. His hair still wet from a shower, his jersey only half-tucked into black sweats. 

He looks tired. He always does now. 

And the worst part is—he doesn’t even try to look at you.

You swallow the lump forming. “Oh. Just our… our picture.”

You smile, soft and nostalgic, still twisting the ring like a habit you can’t break.

“Oh.”

He looks up at it.

His expression doesn’t change. Blank. Like the photo means nothing.

“We need to take that down.”

He says it like he’s mentioning the weather. Like he’s telling you the laundry’s done. Then he walks off into the kitchen, door swinging behind him.

That’s it. The first conversation you’ve had in weeks.

Just seven words. And not one of them about you.

You stay there for a while longer, staring at the photo. At the girl who thought promises meant permanence. At the man who once looked at her like she hung the moon.

You fight for the first time in weeks one morning, over something stupid.

“You said we’d go visit my parents,” you remind him. “They’ve been asking.”

“I have meetings,” he replies, not even looking up from his phone. “You can go.”

“I don’t want to go alone, Sae.”

He finally looks up, brow slightly knit. “Why not?”

You nearly laugh. It’s not funny, but it is—it’s hilarious how little he sees you these days.

“Do you ever want to do anything with me?” Your voice wobbles.

“What kind of question is that?”

You blink. “An honest one.”

He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re being dramatic.”

There it is.

The sentence that breaks you. Not because it’s harsh. But because it’s indifferent.

You leave the room before he sees your tears.

You have the conversation one night in bed. 

You can’t sleep, and his breathing is slow beside you, too far on the edge of the mattress.

“You know I wanted a family,” you whisper into the dark.

He’s silent for so long, you think he’s asleep. Then—

“I never asked you to stay.”

It’s a knife without sharpness. A dull blade. And somehow, that makes it worse.

Your breath hitches. “Is that what I’ve been doing? Staying?”

He doesn’t answer.

Because he knows.

And so do you.

The day you leave, he doesn’t fight. Not really. 

He just watches you pack a small suitcase. You leave the rest. You leave the house. 

You leave the life you waited too long for.

But before you walk out the door, you turn to him. He stands in the doorway, arms crossed, still wearing the shirt you folded for him yesterday.

“I loved you so much, Sae.”

He looks at you like he almost believes you didn’t. “You still do.”

You nod. “Yeah. And that’s the saddest part.”

It’s raining when you step into the cab. Of course it is.

But for the first time in years, the silence inside you starts to sound like peace.

Not absence.

Just...quiet.

The apartment you live in now is smaller. There’s no grand foyer. No marble countertops or a view of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Just one bedroom, a couch you picked out by yourself, and a kitchen with mismatched plates and mugs.

It’s quiet here, too.

But not the kind of quiet that swallows you whole.

This one... this quiet lets you breathe.

Still, some mornings are harder than others.

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, the rim of your coffee cup pressed to your lips but untouched. 

Your phone buzzes, face-down on the wood. You ignore it. 

You’ve gotten good at that. Letting people reach for you without having to reach back.

But something nags at you. So you flip the phone over.

A headline lights up the screen.

“Sae Itoshi: Better and Better, Even After Divorce.”

At 32, Japan’s prodigal midfielder is aging like fine wine—and nothing seems to slow him down.

Your stomach drops before you can stop it.

The article auto-loads, as if your phone already knew you’d read it.

There’s a photo. He’s on the field in a sharp navy kit. His hair longer than you remember. Still unreadable. Still beautiful in that cold, impossible way.

You skim, even when you don’t want to:

“After a decade at the top, Itoshi continues to impress. His stats have only improved, his stamina unshakable. When asked about his divorce that happened a year ago, the midfielder declined to comment, simply stating, ‘My focus is football.’”

Of course it is.

You set the phone down slowly.

He’s still shining. Maybe brighter than before. And not a single thing has changed.

No stumble. No pause. Just a chapter closed, and a new one opened without you.

You, though?

You left with nothing but your name.

No shared bank accounts. 

No alimony. 

No custody battles—there was nothing to fight over. 

Not even a goldfish to argue about.

You walked away with your clothes, your pride, and a ring in the bottom of a drawer.

And somehow, you’re the one mourning.

Not the man he is now. You don’t even know him.

You mourn the boy who whispered “I love you” in a chapel under Spanish stars.

The man who once kissed your hand like it was sacred.

The version of him who looked at you like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Not the stranger who took his place.

And still—

Still, when it rains, you think of him.

Still, when you cook too much food, you instinctively plate two servings.

Still, when the crowd cheers on your TV and they zoom in on him—jaw tight, eyes ruthless, chest rising beneath that number ten—you feel something tug deep in your ribs.

You press the phone face-down again, like it’ll help the ache go away.

The coffee’s cold now, but you drink it anyway.

Because you’re still learning how to live without someone who’s very much alive.

Because some love doesn’t die with divorce.

It just turns into something you have to shove down til it disappears.

ohhh sae you stupid, stupid man

well, that's the end of this series!! I hope you all enjoyed it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

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⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

shut me up ;

17 | moving?

masterlist // previous (ch 16) // next (ch 18)

notes -> sorry this ch took so long! i got caught up in my reqs lol <3

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