#₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA.

[shoyoist]

.˚⊹ ꔫ — 𝐓𝐑. 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !!

content: gn!reader. fluff. perhaps slightly suggestive. established relationship / implied marriage if you squint. characters are written as adults. hinted final timeline but not explicitly! ... note: so glad this one's done lmaoo i hope you like it! squeezed in all my faves hehehe<3

— ⊹˚. ♡ his voice always goes soft when he calls your name.

° 𐐒𐐚 . HANMA SHUJI. BAJI KEISUKE. SANO SHINICHIRO.

"babydoll," he hums, voice low and saccharine as he slides over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back to his chest. his voice is husky with sleep, hair messy and eyes lidded, as he hums a good mornin' into your ear and kisses the back of your neck.

you're in the cute little apron he'd got for you, fixing him a breakfast of waffles and coffee, currently in the middle of making the homemade jam you once came up with that he likes so much. "'s breakfast for me?" he asks, repeating the little petname, leaning down and pooling his weight onto your back as he rests his chin on the crook of your neck.

his shirtless chest is warm, and he smells good — sleepy, smoky and of fresh sheets because you'd both changed the bedsheets last night before tucking in. "it is for you, baby." you say, grinding berries into the little bowl you've got your hand around. "go brush your teeth and take a shower, m'kay? so you can have a nice morning meal before you leave for work."

"ain't it the weekend?" he sighs, not wanting to move off you. you're so soft, so sweet-smelling and so comforting to the touch. "fuck work. i'll stay home with you t'day."

"you can't, it's not the weekend. and it's not like you have weekends off anyway." you laugh, dropping the little glass pestle down and taking hold of his chin, tilting his face so you can kiss him on the cheek. "go on. and if you woke up earlier, you'd have more time to cuddle me before you leave."

he smiles at your little chide, and the lines of his cheek press into your lips. "what if we just cuddled now, hm?" his grip around your waist tightens. "right here, on the kitchen counter. prop you up like this, 'n kiss you here, there—"

he pushes the plates and bowls aside and lifts you up onto the counter easily, but just as he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss, there's a clink! and before either of you can react, the little bowl in which you'd been preparing his jam for him rolls off the counter and shatters onto the floor.

"fuck—" you exclaim, trying to jump down but he pushes you back and skirts some of the porcelain away with the bottom of his slipper, looking sheepishly down at the mess. "look what you did now!"

"uh," he runs a hand through his hair, stepping back and glancing at the broom before he looks back at you — teeth flashing as his lips pull into an apologetic grin. "sorry."

"no cuddles for you. and no nice morning meal of jammy waffles and hot coffee either, it seems." your own lips draw themselves into a tight line, unimpressed as he makes a big show of getting the broom and wet rag to clean up the berry goop and broken glass.

"aw, babydoll. don't be so fuckin' mean." he grumbles, jutting his bottom lip out in a fake pout. but as he finishes sweeping and clears the spill, his expression softens again — and he walks over to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee as he leans in for a make-up kiss.

"g'nna get you a real grinder, a'right? one of the fancy fuckin' ones from the department store. 's what my babydoll deserves." he mumbles against your lips, and you can't help but relieve your frown and smile. "in my favourite colour?"

"mhm," his voice cracks just a little as he hums, smiling back into the kiss. "in your favourite colour."

° 𐐒𐐚 . KISAKI TETTA. KAKUCHO. HAITANI RAN.

"honey," he calls, shutting the door behind him and waiting for the beep of the automatic lock before he lets go of the knob and walks into the house. "i'm home."

for a moment, there's no answer and only a serene sort of quiet emanates from beyond the front hall — and he wonders if you aren't home. but then, he makes his way upstairs and hears the sound of your voice, muffled by a closed door that stands between him and you. you're in the bath, he realizes, a little wave of relief washing over him.

"honey," he knocks on the bathroom door before opening it a crack and peeking in. "i'm home."

"sweetheart!" you look up and see him at the door, and he has to pause and stare for a moment because you're so lovely, covered in soap suds and with your wet hair slicked back, the pretty silver lights he'd got for you hung up on the ceiling and bathing you in a dim, ethereal glow. "you're home!<3 come here, baby."

you pat the edge of the bath tub, and though he's in a suit because he'd had to attend an event (a tiring one) today, he takes his socks off and walks into the bathroom, sitting on the edge as you'd asked him to before leaning in and sliding a hand into your wet hair, pulling you in for a soft, lingering kiss. "missed you today."

"hmm," you muse, tilting your head to a side and reaching up to cup his cheek in a wet palm. "more than usual?"

"more than usual," he agrees, and you notice the wear in his eyes, in his expression. your thumb caresses the lift of his cheekbone for a moment, before your hand slides down to his shoulder and presses against his chest. "come join me in the bath, baby."

"hm?" he mutters, having nearly dozed off sitting in the bathroom, your hand gentle and comforting on his person and the warm air of the bathroom that was so unexpectedly nice after the heavily air conditioned meeting room he'd been sitting in for hours and hours on end. "what did you say, honey?"

"come join me in the bath." you say, reaching out with your other hand to hook a finger into the knot of his tie, loosening it and letting him breathe a little. he frowns a little, as if hesitant to agree, and you jump back in — "it'll be good for you to relax, baby. i'll wash your back 'n your hair. please?"

and it's not that he doesn't want to get in the bath with you, it's that the tub isn't really big enough for the two of you— but the pleading look you give him and the weariness in his body that lulls him downwards along with the insistent tug you give to his elbow, is all enough to convince him.

"alright," he sighs, standing back up and sliding his suit jacket off his shoulders with a shrug, slipping his arms out the sleeves and hanging it on the hook meant for his towel. you watch as he undresses, welcoming him into the tub with a kiss to his shoulder when he squeezes in.

you end up seated on the edge of the tub yourself, letting him relax in the soapy water as you use the showerhead to run water through his hair and over his back. he sighs, shutting his eyes and feeling so thankful as a wave of relaxation washes over him via your gentle hands and the warm, fragrant water.

“thank you, honey.” he mumbles, voice low with wear.

you give him a smile and kiss his wet hair. “it's no problem, baby. i love taking care of you.”

° 𐐒𐐚 . RYUGUJI KEN. HAITANI RINDOU. KUROKAWA IZANA.

“princess,” he waves to you from across the street, seated on his motorcycle and leaning on the handlebars. your friends start giggling as you jump and spin around to look for him, fighting your blush.

his eyes are droopy as he meets your eyes from the distance, and he'd look bored if you didn't know him better. but you know he's just taking his time checking you out. and he's looking so good but also being so embarrassing, calling you cutesy names like that in public.

you nod to your friends, cheeks hot because they're winking at you and swooning over how perfect of a boyfriend your man is, and with a quick good-bye you hurry to the other side of the street.

he leans in and waits expectantly, and you give him a kiss on the cheek before climbing onto the back of his motorcycle. he takes your helmet from where he'd slung it on one of the handlebars, and you stand beside him feeling all pampered while he fits it carefully over your head and fastens the strap under your chin for you.

“you're embarrassing, baby.” you chide, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek on his shoulder as he drives off.

“me? embarrassing?” he scoffs. “and how am i embarrassing? don't want me to come pick you up from work anymore?”

“no, it's not that!” you protest, and you see the grin that flits to his lips from the motorcycle mirror. rolling your eyes, you give him a pout that he won't see but knows is there on your pretty little mouth.

“then what is it, princess?” he chuckles fondly, and you twist your lips indignation before you continue.

“it just makes me shy when you call me that in public.” you confess, the heat returning to your cheeks again as you think about it. his voice just sounds so nice in your ear, and it reminds you of something else sometimes, when he calls you those names.

hearing it makes you feel hot in your cheeks and in your chest and in your stomach all in one go. “when i call you what in public, huh?” he asks, the smile on his face once more. you punch his shoulder gently, leaning back and shaking your head a little to free as much of your hair in the wind as you can with the helmet on. “that.”

“i don't know, princess, i'm not a mind reader.” he shrugs his shoulders, teasing, knowing exactly what you mean.

“you just said it again!” you cry out, as he starts to laugh. “when you call me princess! it makes me shy!”

he chuckles again, relaxing around your hold as you wrap your arms around him again, letting out a little hmph! that hits the back of his neck and sends a shiver down his spine.

“now princess,” he deadpans, slowing down and looking to the side as he makes a turn. “don't make a fuss.”

and ugh, it's just too easy for him to tease you. “baby!”

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma fluff #hanma x reader #baji fluff #baji x reader #shinichiro fluff #shinichiro x reader #kisaki x reader #kisaki fluff #kakucho x reader #kakucho fluff #ran x reader #ran fluff #draken fluff #draken x reader #rindou fluff #rindou x reader #izana fluff #izana x reader

[shoyoist]

ﾟ+* ꔫ — 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒 + 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 !!

content: gn!reader. sfw — fluff. slightly suggestive in shidou's part. featuring: bachira meguru, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, michael kaiser. some of these hcs were suggested to me by other tumblr users! they are credited separately under each part<3

— . ｡˚ ♡ he thinks of these special moments whenever he's feeling down, and it helps him get right back up.

° 𐐒𐐚 . bachira meguru + painting date!

credit to @katasstrophy for the idea! the bachira family has a little art studio built in their house, owned by bachira's mom. he takes you there one time, and though you'd been doing your best to keep things clean for his mother's sake, the two of you end up making a huge mess.

you're intently dabbing brown and yellow paint on your little canvas, looking back at the mental image you've conjured of your boyfriend sitting in a field of flowers and smiling at you, when you hear shuffling behind you.

"baby, baby," is all bachira says in warning. "look this way!" and you turn around, wide-eyed and inquiring as you finally look away from the canvas on which you've been meticulously painting a picture of your rogueishly adorable boyfriend—

only to be met with a splat of bright pink paint across your face. "m—meguru? what the hell?" it's on your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth that had been open in question to bachira's urgent request for you to turn around, and it's nearly in your eye. "god i could've eaten that shit!"

the sound of bachira's unapologetic giggling fills the quiet studio as you get up and pluck a wad of tissues from the box on the table nearby, wiping your face off with it. while your back is turned, he flicks his paint-sopped brush at you again, and you feel the paint hit the back of your neck. "don't do that!"

you stand up straight and turn your back to your easel, squaring your shoulders and doing your best to protect the painting.

"it's—" bachira's laughing so hard now, he snorts in between his words. "it's even worse now, baby — it's all over your face!" and you know that. because you can feel the paint smear down to your chin as you wipe. oh, you think, he's so fucking cute right now, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkly as he giggles.

but that's not going to stop you from retaliating. meguru, you're about to get it.

his mother chewed him out and made him clean the place up afterwards, but bachira would do it again and again and again, just to see your pretty smile and hear your pretty laugh, your eyes lit up as you tried to stay angry with him while the two of you made a mess of yourselves and the studio once more.

° 𐐒𐐚 . hyoma chigiri + poetry analysis date!

credit to @yakshasslut for the idea! chigiri gives you a book of his favourite love poems to read while he's away, and by the time he comes back home, you're brimming with tender feelings for him and he flusters so sweetly when you express it. ever since, it's been a tradition to share and mull over novels and poems together.

not many of chigiri's friends or teammates are well-versed in poetry or literature in general, but there is one novel of prose that each and every one of them can name and recognize within an instant — and it's a book that you gave your boyfriend as a gift, years ago.

it doesn't have much of you in it — it's a collection of poems that express the joys and pains of long distance love, and the only hint of you in it is the lipstick kiss on the front page, with a "for hyoma, my one and only<3" written on it in your handwriting.

he takes it everywhere. flicks through the pages while he's on the plane, while he's resting in his hotel room, and sometimes even takes it with him to games.

he takes so much care to keep it safe and in good condition, but it's quite worn now— he can't bring himself to shelf it, though. it's his most prized posession, almost.

he reads it and keeps in mind that while he's away, you're reading the new book that he had gifted you before he left, and he smiles to himself, imagining how you underline and draw hearts around your favourite lines and write little pencil notes about how "this is you @ me!"

don't get it wrong, chigiri loves being on the field. he loves the glamour, the adrenaline, the fire of scoring a goal — but at his heart, he's soft. domestic.

he hopes fondly for the day he'll get to lay in bed with you again (he's only going to be away for two weeks. but it feels like two months, or even years, sometimes) and have a cozy little date where you just sip on warm coffee and share sweet cakes while mulling over poems together.

it's comforting. it's home.

he thinks about the worn book of poems that sits on your shelf, back at your place. the one he gave you.

the one you read all the time, leaving new annotations bookmarked for him to find each time he picks the book up for a read.

if he ever actually tired of football, chigiri thinks he might just become a poet. for you.

° 𐐒𐐚 . mikage reo + picnic date at the beach!

credit to anonymous! reo is a rich man, and he's so used to fancy dinner dates, luxury trips, first class service, all that. so when you take him on a cute little beach date, getting him to help you cut sandwiches and bake brownies and cookies earlier in the day, it was a new experience for him. and he loves it.

“reo, what about here?” you ask, turning around to look at him as you hop in your cute little sandals on the sand. he's carrying the picnic basket and you have the blanket folded under your arms — and he's been following you across the pretty beach for about fifteen minutes now.

though you ask him if he likes the spot, he knows from the look in your eyes that you actually like this place, and it's nice! the sand is soft and there's not a lot of rocks or seaweed under foot, the shore is a short walk away, and the sunset spills so pretty onto your skin and into your eyes.

he's almost lost in the sight — but when you call his name again, sounding a little concerned as you ask, “reo? you okay?” he snaps out of it and gives you one of his signature, wide and adorable grins. “yeah! here is fine, baby.”

he doesn't know but even his eyes are lit up, the violet of them beautiful and tinted gold in the light of the setting sun, and you can't help but cup his face and kiss him as he puts the basket down and sits on the blanket beside you.

“isn't this fun?” you giggle against his lips, and he hums in agreement, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you in for another kiss. the evening has just started, but he already knows that he'll remember this moment fondly, forever. “mhm, it is fun.”

“you sure?” you ask, tracing his cheek with your thumb, and it's almost a softer, warmer feeling than that of the sun kissing his face. “it's not your usual scene, i know. we can always go to a—”

”no,” reo cuts you off, taking your hand. the smile he gives you is prettier, brighter than any he's ever given you before. it takes your breath away. “it's not my usual scene, yeah.” he chuckles. “in fact, i've never had a picnic on the beach in my life until now. but it's... nice. i love it.”

he says it so softly, and it's rare, coming from your bubbly, bright and ever-so-forward lover. and that's how you know he's telling you the truth.

“alright then.” you kiss his cheek, pulling away and sitting back, dragging the basket closer so you can take the food out. it's just a little kiss, the same as any other kiss you've given his cheek — but somehow, it holds a different sort of warmth, and it comforts him. makes him feel so softly, gently beloved.

and he swears he'll hold this warmth to his cheek, to his chest, to his heart — forever.

° 𐐒𐐚 . michael kaiser + homemade spa date!

credit to anonymous! off days with kaiser are the nicest spent indoors. you go on outdoor dates (and on dates overseas) so often, that it's a nice change to stay at home once in a while and spend some sweet, domestic time with him instead.

“mikka,” your tone is scolding as you cradle his face in your palms, stopping him from wiggling around as you try to stay balanced in his lap. “can you stop moving? the serum is getting in your hair!”

kaiser laughs, the lift of his lips making him look all the more prettier, and hence all the more fucking distracting, as you try to wipe the residual bits of the face mask you'd just peeled off your boyfriend's face, replacing the thick, opaque cleanser with softly translucent moisturizer.

he taps your palmful of moisturizer with an index finger, and with a quick move of the digit he swipes the blob on your nose, making you flinch back and blink in surprise.

“mikka!”

ah, there it is. mission successful. kaiser almost wishes he could go to sleep forever and in his dreams, listen to you calling him by that sweet little petname for the rest of his life. almost.

because he wishes more than that to kiss you all the time. like right now. he leans forward, the smile stretching his mouth giving away his intention to you, but not in time for you to escape. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, kissing you with soft, sweet and swollen lips that you'd just finished exfoliating with sugar and honey.

“baby,” your eyebrows furrow, but you still kiss him back and it makes him chuckle because oh, for all the fuss you make and all the scowling you do, you love him so. “we'll never get to the manipedi by movie time at this rate.”

“movie time can wait, princess,” he sighs against your lips. “all i want right now is to watch you, anyway.”

and his words are romantic, suggestive, and they'd bring a blush to your cheeks for sure — if he hadn't accidentally tipped you off balance in that second.

“mikka!—” you yelp (to his delight) as he grabs you and tries to steady you — but even as he saves you, your hand reflexively flails upwards to curl around his arm for support.

and with a smack, the moisturizer is all over his bicep instead of lathered evenly across his face as it should be.

the upset on your face is apparent, but kaiser only grins expectantly as he grips your waist, adjusts your position in his lap again, waiting.

and you don't disappoint. “look what you've done! mikka!”

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #mikage reo fluff #mikage reo x reader #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser fluff #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma fluff #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru fluff #bachira x reader #chigiri x reader #reo x reader #kaiser x reader #bachira fluff #reo fluff #blue lock headcanons

[shoyoist]

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — hanma shuji.

hanma doesn't know why he's so nervous about giving you chocolate on valentine's day. for fuck's sake.

he checks himself out for the seventh time in the reflection of the candy shop's display window, running a hand through the gelled locks of his dyed hair, fixing a strand that had fallen loose. chill the fuck out. he leans back against his motorcycle, hoping to god that he doesn't look awkward as he stands there, holding a heart-shaped box and a bouquet of flowers— starting to feel cold as the sun goes down in the distance, his leather jacket and skinny jeans doing little to protect him from the late winter chill. 

like, who cares if this is the first time he's spending a valentine's day with someone? he stares into the lidded, dusty gold eyes of his reflection. and who gives a shit that you're the first girlfriend he's ever had? the first person to ever sway his devil heart, to pull him down from the top of the world and dethrone him of the title of the lone reaper? … and who cares if he was over twenty whole fucking years old when you gave him the first kiss of his whole life? 

“shut up,” he'd hissed at hanemiya, who laughed at him while he was hunched over shelves of confectionery, unable to pick something for you. “shut the fuck up, b’fore i knock the teeth outta your fuckin' skull.”

“ooh, would ya really do that, now?” usually, anyone would cower and tremble in their pissy little shoes if the hanma shuji had threatened them like that. but hanemiya hadn't even flinched. 

“your little girlfriend might run from you, shuji honey,” kazutora had mocked, using the petname you always called him by. “can't risk that, man. not when she’s the first girl that's ever wanted your flat ass in your life.”

“can it, tora.” hanma had warned, voice low. “for a kid that sat in the class corner and got his shit beat in by every other kid in school, you sure have a sharp fuckin' tongue.”

“ouch.” hanemiya's wince was only fake. “hey, man. we're friends.”

to be fair, hanma had never thought much about love or first kisses or valentine's days, or even relationships in general. he was plenty amused and invested by kisaki's endeavours, sidelining his efforts to win over the woman of his dreams like it was a soap opera.

it was new, unwalked territory, and it made him nervous, made his heart flutter, goddamnit— to be in love with someone himself. and god he's fucking sweating despite the cold, as he stands there as patiently as he can and waits—

“shuji!” your voice calls him from behind, and he ignores the way his face and ears heat up as he turns around to find you. “shuji honey! i'm sorry i'm late!”

you wave at him as you rush over, your shoes clacking over the frosty sidewalk and your scarf fluttering in the breeze. the first thing hanma thinks is oh, fuck— because you're damn pretty, and also because your hands are full. of shopping bags that contain what he can only assume are valentine's day gifts for him.

suddenly, he feels embarrassed. the box of chocolates he spent so much time choosing for you, and the bouquet of roses (one of each colour to signify every kind and stage of love) feel suddenly empty. not good enough.

“hi baby,” he says, voice going rough as he softens it for you. leaning down so you don't have to get on your toes, he allows you to capture his lips in a kiss, parting his lips to give himself a sliver of your taste. “don't worry your pretty little head. i didn't wait long.”

“i went shopping.” you tell him, hanging some of your bags on the handlebar of his motorcycle, trifling through one of them for something. “shuji i knew you'd never dress correctly for the weather, so i made some last minute additions to my gift list and bought you these.”

you pull out a checkered scarf, very long in your hands — and you get on your toes anyway, slinging it around his neck and patting his chest before nodding in satisfaction and going back to the bag for something else. “that, and these gloves!”

you take out a pair of thick, black leather gloves and wait for hanma to finish wrapping his new scarf around his neck, before taking his large hands in yours and pulling the gloves on them for him. “aren't they nice?” you smile proudly, squeezing his gloved hands. “look at the silver buttons! you fasten them like this, and see! they're fitted perfectly.”

“i—” his voice cracks, and he blinks down at you in silence for a moment, feeling warm and fuzzy as you hold his hands in yours. “thank you, pretty doll. i love them.”

“and you better use them.” you huff. “i know you're freezing even now. it's a cold evening. you never learn, shuji.”

“i will, baby.” he has to grin at you then, because you're so fucking cute when you turn your nose up and frown at him, bossing him around like that. “promise.”

“kiss.” you pout, then, and his heart melts. he'd already put his flowers and chocolate down on the back of his motorcycle, so he wraps his hands and arms around your waist, pulling you in and enjoying the warmth you offer as he kisses you, his touch so gentle and tender even to himself. “love you, baby.” he says into your mouth, blushing again when he feels you hum happily against his lips. “i love you so much.”

when you pull away, your gaze wanders off to his motorcycle — and you look up at him, eyes somehow so adorable, sparkly and full of innocent joy. “are those for me?”

“who else would they be for?” hanma chuckles, snatching up the bouquet and chocolate, handing them to you. “happy valentine's day.” the words feel foreign, an inexperienced rasp to them as they leave his tongue.

he watches you hug the flowers to your chest, reading the label on the chocolate box, giggling as you notice your name carefully written in black marker on the pink ribbon tied around it. “it's not much,” he starts, but you don't let him continue. 

“i love them, shuji! these are my favourite kind of chocolate— and how did you know to pick these specific colours of roses, hm?” you raise an eyebrow, giggling even as you try to appear skeptical. “i bet kisaki taught you. you wouldn't know a thing about flower meanings.”

it's true — he didn't know. he'd asked kisaki for help himself. his little plant-loving genius of a friend had been delighted to oblige. “hey, don't be mean t’me now.”

“i love them, honey.” you smile, and hanma's heart flutters with the softness of your tone.

he knows you love him. you call him your honey, your sweetheart, your baby — as if he wasn't 6’4, tatted up and famous on the streets for being an on-and-off member of multiple gangs, a wild card and a lone reaper of souls that's never been defeated in a fight.

as if he wasn't quite terrible at giving you his love back. he stares again at his flowers and his measly box of chocolates, before glancing as discreetly as he could at all the bags you'd hung on his motorcycle's handlebar. “so, what's our plan?” he licks his lips. “we can go anywhere you want— name a place, i'll drive us there.”

“aren't you sweet,” you reach up to pinch his cheek. “hm, let's go to my favourite restaurant! you know the one. and after that we can drive around and head to the park you like. we can open the rest of your gifts there.”

fuck. “these all’re really for me?” he frowns at the bags — there are six of them, all tote bags in pretty pastel pinks and yellows.

“mhm.” you nod, utterly unaware of what you do to his heart. “i got you twenty presents!”

“the hell?” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the nape of his neck, puzzled. “why the fuck would ya do that, now?”

“buy you twenty presents?” you blink. “well, i was trying to get you something really meaningful, you know? something special. that's practical but also mmm, sexy — because that's the kind of thing you like.”

“and you had to buy twenty of these … practical and sexy presents.” hanma isn't convinced. 

you put the flowers and chocolate into one of the bags and climb onto the back of his motorcycle, rolling your eyes at him. “listen, shuji— i got a little carried away, alright? i'm nervous!”

nervous? you? he walks the few steps required to close the distance between you two once again. “hah?”

“mhm.” you grab at his stomach through his shirt and pinch, earning yourself from him a hiss of pain and a swat from his hand. “i'm nervous, because…” you smile, leaning in like you're telling him a secret. “i have to show you a good time—a little birdie told me this is your very first valentine's day date.”

hanma's embarrassment is evident as he tugs the scarf up his chin and turns his back to you, leaping onto the motorcycle and making it jolt, your panicked squeak and the way you grab at his jacket to steady yourself making him chuckle despite himself.

“hey!” you slap his shoulder, and he ignores you, twisting the keys into the ignition and revving his vehicle up instead. “shuji! you're mean.”

“‘m not.” he scoffs, backing up off the side of the rode and to the yellow line. “you're mean.”

he peeks at one of the mirrors and sees your pretty face twisted into a scowl, and his own face cracks into a smile. “you'd be a real sweetie if you told me the rest of the stuff you got f’me, though.”

“those are surprises.” your scowl lifts, as he pushes off the road with one foot and drives out into the street. you wrap your arms around his waist and press your body to his back, cheek against his shoulder as you let the wind into your hair and relax as he speeds up. “you can guess, though. so funny when you guess.”

“cause i never get anything fuckin' right?” he laughs, and then you laugh too, and hanma feels all warm and fuzzy again. god, he loves you. he loves you so much.

people would assume about a man like hanma, that he wouldn't settle for a first love. he would want experiences! he would want to taste love, passion, regret, heartbreak, unadulterated lust, the poisons and ambrosias of other people— but really, he thinks he can do just fine with just you.

he can do just fine with only your love, your presence, your warmth and your kisses from your lips his whole life. if he wants experiences, he'll have them with you.

“hey.” he says, half hoping his words get lost in the wind— but you hum in response anyway, so he continues. “i know i haven't even opened those presents yet, but thank you. alright? i really do appreciate it, baby.”

he laughs at the end, a little awkward, because fuck— he sounds so stupid when he tries to be serious and express something that isn't a joke.

then you kiss his shoulder, and he feels that warmth and fuzziness all over again. “of course. anything for you, shuji. i'll make sure you feel just how much i love you.”

and god, hanma just might fucking cry. his eyes sting, and he blinks the sensation away before it can build — but he still takes a little too long to reply, takes too long to swallow down the lump in his throat. “i love ya too.”

“shuji,” your voice is teasing, and he feels you tilt your face on his shoulder to look at him better. “you're tearing up, aren't you?”

“baby, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” he smiles anyway, because your laugh is beautiful, and when you push yourself up just a bit to place a quick kiss on his cheek, he turns his head just in time to make it a kiss on his lips. ”now stay put.”

note: inspired by an ask left to me by @vivianette. thank you for the idea, beloved<3 interactions, reblogs & feedback are much appreciated!

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #hanma x reader #hanma fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tr x reader #tr fluff #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji fluff #hanma drabbles #hanma headcanons #tr drabbles #tr headcanons

[shoyoist]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 — haitani ran.

haitani ran doesn't care for anything. 

he has always been that way. laid back look in eyes, lips set in that impassive slant that somehow passed as a smile. you've known this about him for the lengthy amount of time you've been friends, and you were used to his languid attitude — and you didn't mind it, honestly.

you knew he only really cared when it was something about himself. his hair, his pride, or something to do with his little brother getting into danger.

which is why you're staring at him the way you are. 

watching him rub the darkening bruise at the left of his mouth as he fixes his hair (of course. his ever so precious hair.) after it had come loose, seated on your couch with that nonchalant look in his eyes — like he hadn't just beat the absolute shit out of your ex boyfriend.

thinking back on it, you weren't even sure why you'd called ran and told him about it. 

all you knew was that you'd just barely managed to move on from the way your ex cheated on you and dumped you months ago; and seeing the jerk at your door, hearing him tell you that he regretted everything and wanted you to give him a second chance — it had you fumbling for the phone in an instant.

"ran," you'd muttered, trying to keep your voice from reaching the guy standing more or less patiently behind the door you'd slammed in his face. "ran, he's here. and he says he wants me back. after everything he did—"

ran had cut you off with a simple 'give me five minutes, yeah?' — and then he was there, grabbing your ex by the collar and spitting in his face before throwing him onto the ground.

you'd stood there for a moment, confused, shocked and stunned to see the anger in ran's usually placid eyes. to see the way he used his fists, rather than the weapons he preferred. to hear him cuss your ex out, talking about how you deserved better than a piece of shit, about how if he ever showed his ass at your door again, he'd kill him on the spot.

you'd only snapped out of it when your ex managed to land a punch on ran's face, sending his head twisting to one side, blonde-and-black braids following the movement — and then you were stepping out, screaming at them to stop. 

ran looked up at you, recognized the upset written over your features, and withdrew. not without one last kick, but the fact that he'd immediately, actually stopped was another surprise. "get the fuck away." he'd hissed at your ex.

naturally, your ex had left the scene without further protest, hopefully never to return, but you were still stunned. because for a moment, it looked like haitani ran cared.

"lemme get a glass of water," he'd mumbled, all casual, shouldering past you into your house and making his way into your kitchen.

you followed, poured him his water, watched him drink and wash his mouth with it, and then followed him back into your living room where he now sat, redoing his hair.

deciding that you'd stared enough, he looks up. "what is it, huh?"

"ah," you scramble to find words that would make sense. "i was just wondering. you got here pretty fast."

"i was on my way." he explains dismissively.

"you were?" you ask. he nods, fixing one braid and undoing the other, letting the alternating waves of dyed hair fall across his shoulder, creating soft shadows over the slant of his face, against the watery sunlight coming through your window. "was gonna take you out for some ice cream."

"oh." and then you realize that in fact, he'd been doing that a lot the past weeks, after your break up.

showing up unannounced and asking you if you wanted to go out for some nothing-in-particular, telling you almost teasingly that he'd freed up some time just for you, so you better accept his offer.

you'd been appreciating his gestures as kindness shown to you by a friend — albeit one that was involved in various criminal activities, that you'd decided to look past because you'd known him for long enough to not care — but now, you were starting to wonder if it was something more.

the signs were all there, after all.

"ran, do you—" the words spill from your lips without your intention, and you hesitate, even as he looks up, flicking a strand of his hair out of his eyes that were now glowing with the light pooling in them. "yeah?"

fuck, you think, as his gaze grows sharper, steeling itself against yours.

"i'm just, uh," you really don't know how to say what you wanted to say. "it's just, you ... do you care?"

he raises an eyebrow, giving you a scrutinizing look. "the fuck's that supposed to mean, hm? care about what?"

"about ..." you take a deep breath. "scratch that. do you like me?"

he freezes momentarily, upon hearing your question — only for a fraction of a second — but you're watching him closely enough to catch it. you don't know what else to say, and there's silence in the air between you two for what feels like an age, before he simply finishes braiding his hair and stands up. 

your heart starts to beat faster, wondering if he was about to walk out with no explanation — perhaps you'd hit a nerve, perhaps you'd assumed wrong and thought too much about something that had no meaning. "wait—"

"look, i don't wanna be a rebound or anything." he starts, voice a little stiff, a little cold — and you shut your mouth, allowing him to continue. "i'm not about to get played or made a fool out of. so, so we'll take things slow. i'll wait for you to get over shit at your own pace. you take your time, and tell me if you ever wanna give me a chance."

"g-give you a chance?" your heart picks up pace again, because god, you weren't expecting him to say all of that. it wasn't like him to be so — so this way, and it was rendering you just a bit speechless. "ran, i . . . you, you really—"

he turns to you again, rolling his eyes — but you don't see any real annoyance behind it. "not in the mood to talk about it right now, love. let's just go get some food. and you know it's not gonna be any tacky shit like what ass-face treated you to, so hurry up."

and now, after that thrown out half-confession, the way he called you love sounded softer, less of a joke and more of something else. you felt bad, but you also can't help but feel relief. 

why relief?

because you know how you used to have a crush on him. 

hell, you'd been in love with ran, going as far as to break things off with your friends that tried to convince you that he was no good. 

and because you can't help the way you've been looking forward to his impromptu visits as of late, daydreaming and wondering when he was going to surprise you next, and with what.

you know how you'd seen your ex at your door and only felt fear and anger stir in your gut — and you know how you'd immediately dialled ran, and felt near-tears with consolation when he picked up so quickly, when you heard his voice in your ear.

because you were starting to wonder if your past love for him was slowly coming back.

you still needed some time to move on, and ran knew that. which is why he'd just said, that he's willing to wait. because he has feelings for you?

"but are you sure you're willing to," locking the door, you turn to him and walk after him, out to where he had his motorcycle parked across the street. "you know, willing to wait?"

"whatever." ran shrugged, not looking at you. you quickened your pace, catching up with him and grabbing his sleeve to cross the street together. his gaze was fixed on his motorcycle, but it didn't look like he was focused on the vehicle.

the breeze rustles gentle in your ears as you walk with him to the other side of the road, and the sound fills in any awkwardness that blooms between you two.

the sequence of events that had just played out, hadn't taken even an hour. but as you search your surroundings for any signs of any unwanted presences, you see nothing.

there's only a couple of kids passing by on bicycles, birds coming down to land on the branches of a tree growing some distance away, and pale sunlight sifting down frim between the clouds to pool on the asphalt at your feet.

you feel calm. ran shakes away the grip you've got on your sleeve, but as your hand falls down to rest slack at your side, he grabs it, and gives it a small squeeze — and you feel a tingle of something bright and hot run through your chest. 

swinging his leg over, he leaps onto the motorcycle, slipping the key into the ignition. you get on behind him, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, suddenly feeling warm despite the chilly wind that was starting to pick up. 

"i've waited long enough already, anyway." he added belatedly, sounding ever so laid back, despite the cherry colour tipping his ears. "take your time. nothing to it, waiting some more."

and as your heart warms, you think that perhaps you were wrong. 

perhaps haitani ran does care. for you.

note: interactions, reblogs & feedback are much appreciated!<3

#♡ japan — yot club. #₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #ran x reader #ran fluff #haitani ran x reader #haitani ran fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tr fluff #tr x reader #haitani ran angst #ran angst #tr angst #haitani ran drabbles #ran drabbles #tokyo revengers drabbles #tr drabbles

[shoyoist]

any thoughts on which blue lock men would absolutely be one of the best fathers out there? <33

ﾟ+* ꔫ — 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

content: fluff. f!reader. marriage. mentions of pregnancy, child birth. an: sobbing they are all such sweet dads nonnie it was so hard to choose </3 gave us four best dads in no particular order because i could not rank them if i tried.

featuring: kunigami rensuke, mikage reo, isagi yoichi, oliver aiku.

° 𐐒𐐚 . kunigami rensuke!

he's a caring father. a little over protective, and a little confused — but he works hard to be a good husband and a good father to your kids, and that makes him perfect<3

he's the perfect man to have as your husband & as the father of your kids. chivalrous, a total sweetheart, doesn't get swayed easily, somewhat stubborn and oh, so loving. he's patient and caring and always available during your pregnancy, and he remains steadfast with those traits when the kids do get here.

he's way more into planning the baby's rooms than you are, honestly. stresses so much over the little details — wallpapers, curtains, sheets and number of pillows, exact furniture placements, everything.

he drives your baby girl and boy to school every single day, steals your duty of fixing their bentos for them, loves braiding your little girl's hair, and cries ("rensuke, are you crying?" "n—no, i'm just feeling a little emotional, a'right?") about how one day they'll be all grown up and people of their own.

none of the blue lock men EVER miss a sports meet, that's for sure — but kunigami? he helped the school arrange it. none of those boring lemon-on-a-spoon games. he pushes the school to replace the regular games with football related ones. a dribble race. the baton in the baton relay is replaced by a football.

one teacher makes the mistake of telling him "but sir, these are football games. what about the girls?" he gave them a whole lecture on how little girls can play and be interested in football just as much as little boys.

his enthusiasm is masked by his gruff exterior, and often it's just you that's left to placate him when your baby girl and boy get tired of listening to their dad explaining football rules and positions to them over and over again.

"rensuke," you hum, walking over to share the seat with him when he flops onto the sofa in defeat. "don't look so down, honey. they're only five and six years old. they just don't have the attention span."

"just wish i knew more ways to spend time with them." he confesses, running a hand through the spikes of his orange hair. "football's all i cared for when i was a kid, y'know? so i'm not sure what else to do."

he's so sweet :( and he feels better right away too, when you kiss his forehead and tell him he could take them to the aquarium next weekend. "they've been dying to go see the penguins."

"really?" he mutters, that contemplative frown that you've gotten so used to seeing and fallen in love with creasing his brows. "hmm, i'll see if i can take the day off."

° 𐐒𐐚 . mikage reo!

he's the fun dad. the life of the party even in the family. he starts off a little rocky, but after that he's so very supportive, lifting his son up into the light and paving the way for his future with everything he's got.

reo didn't have exactly the best relationship with his parents. it was great when he was a kid, but as he grew up and became a man of his own, his dreams and the dreams his parents set for him became obviously separated from eachother — which ended with him getting estranged from them himself.

which might lead one to believe that he would avoid doing that with his own child at all costs — but for reo, it was a shock at first when he realized his son had no interest in football.

"he's into art." you stroke his hair, letting him lay in your lap and mourn the loss of his personal father/son dreams. "he wants to paint, baby. look at him. only five years old and he's already so good at it."

"maybe he'll get bored of it in a few years." reo muses, rolling over in your lap to press his face into your stomach. "maybe he'll get into football later."

"reo." you say his name sternly. "don't push your own dreams onto your son." it's a simple reprimand, but it hits reo hard. he fixes his mindset instantly after that.

he's ready to bribe Tokyo's best art schools to let his son enroll in — but with the amount of top quality supplies, world class teachers and expensive classes reo has made available for his little artist son, he gets in without a hitch.

he takes so much pride and joy in knowing that his son is an art prodigy — showers him with gifts and praise, takes front row seats at every award ceremony, takes him out on celebratory dinners, and he pays for everything.

he'd also find it incredibly funny to buy his son art-related gag gifts, pretending he's innocent and doesn't realize what he's doing. "mom, can you tell dad to quit buying me the cheesy aprons." your son complains to you, showing you the OOPS! DRANK FROM MY PAINT CUP AGAIN! apron that reo had bought him online.

you don't tell reo to quit, though. you're just glad your husband has a happy, healthy relationship with his son.

° 𐐒𐐚 . isagi yoichi!

he serves as the closest and wisest mentor for his kids. he's a little nervous about his duties sometimes, but any time his children need someone to lean on, he's there. and he's there for you, too.

isagi knows what it's like to be average. he knows what it's like to dream. and he also knows what it's like to work hard, hone himself and make those dreams come true.

when the doctor tells you both that you're going to have a child — and when the doctor confirms that it's a boy — the first thing isagi does, is teach himself that your child is going to be a separate person from him, that will have separate interests and dreams of his own.

he's fully prepared to love and support his son in every way, no matter how alike or different he turns out to be from isagi himself. takes a lot of time off for you, especially during the later months of your pregnancy. he's so antsy too, always half-awake and jerking up every time you cough or mutter in your sleep.

checks on you so many times throughout the night that it gets in the way of your sleep and irritates the fuck out of you. he's just doing his best :(

and when the baby gets here, he's so on board with making sure you get enough rest and continue to get enough to eat.

scoops your baby boy up from your arms as soon as he's done feeding and takes him to the living room, telling you to make yourself comfortable in bed and take a nap. hours later, you wake up and head downstairs to see him sitting on the sofa, dozing off with the baby swaddled in his arms.

gets super nervous at parent meets but he attends each one. listens carefully to the teachers' feedback and scolds his son as due — but so gently, in such a reassuring tone that it's impossible to throw a tantrum or get upset with him. he's a real nice dad <3

and he's so lucky both his sons (because you get another little boy two years after the first) are into football. he coaches the school teams sometimes, coming over to give pep talks and offer tips before important games.

tells his boys to stay humble no matter what the outcome, but secretly takes so much pride with each goal they score<3

° 𐐒𐐚 . oliver aiku!

he's his daughter's daddy. his happiness comes in tow with yours and your daughter's happiness. you're both the lights of his life. people say oliver was tamed when he met you — and softened when you both had your little girl. and in a way, it's true.

(dilf dilf dilf dilf) loved showing you off when you were pregnant, and he loves showing of his baby girl to literally the whole world. buys you and your daughter the prettiest matching dresses, and brings you along to every event he attends.

"meet my girls," he says, shaking the host's hand firmly, giving the man a proud smirk as he puts an arm around your waist and brings you closer. "this is my wife, and our daughter."

"everyone knows, oliver." you roll your eyes, picking your daughter up and pressing her to your chest. she clutches the neck of your dress and buries her little head into your neck, tired already of the crowd, the noise and the flashing lights. "what do they know?" he grins, pinching your cheek in response to your eye-roll.

"that i'm your wife and she's our kid." you answer, letting him lead you to the seats reserved for the aikus. "i'm sure you've introduced us at least five times already. they'd know — if the news about our wedding and our baby weren't enough."

"hey, but isn't it fun?" he leans in and kisses your cheek — you just know people are snapping up pictures. tomorrow morning, your friends will send you the latest headlines: mr. oliver aiku is such a romantic!

"hmph," you huff, because it's true, he is a romantic. a show off, but a romantic one nonetheless.

spoils your daughter thoroughly — buying her dolls, pretty clothes, the trendiest school bags, cute shoes, whatever she asks for. and he always pulls up at the school gates in his most expensive car when it's time to pick your daughter up from school.

"you're gonna give her a big head if you keep spoiling her like that, oliver." you sigh, when he comes home with yet another dollhouse set for her. "she's my little princess." he shrugs, smiling nonchalantly as you cross your arms over your chest. "and a little ego never hurt anyone — mhm?"

walking over to you, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss, whispering in your ear, "and it's not like i spoil you any less, is it?"

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #blue lock fluff #kunigami fluff #reo fluff #oliver fluff #isagi fluff #kunigami rensuke fluff #mikage reo fluff #oliver aiku fluff #isagi yoichi fluff #kunigami x reader #reo x reader #oliver x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff

[shoyoist]

𝟎𝟕:𝟏𝟒 𝐀𝐌 : hanma shuji.

"mwah~" you kiss his cheek and giggle, fighting back the arm hanma lifts up to elbow you away. pushing his arm down, you wrap your own around his neck, slithering in and pressing your lips to his temple. "mwah!"

"fuckin' hell, baby," he grunts, lashes fluttering as he tries to open his eyes only to squeeze them shut again, when he meets the searing early morning light coming through the window. "it's too early for this. go back to sleep."

"it's past seven, shuji," you sigh dreamily, and his brows crease together as you continue peppering kisses all over his face and neck, giggling every time he lets out a huff or tries to push you away. "and you look so cute when you're sleepy."

he somehow rolls his eyes at you, even with them still shut tight, and as you brush away loose strands of dyed hair away from his forehead so you can kiss him there, he groans. "i'm not sleepy, doll, i'm sleeping."

"hmph, even cuter when you're sleeping, if you ask me." you return, grabbing the blanket he's got over him and tugging it away to reveal his bare chest, eyes focusing on the cute little mole he's got right over his heart, on his left pec — flopping onto him, you land a kiss on the spot, giggling as he gasps, the wind knocked out of his lungs with the sudden impact of your weight.

"get off," he warns, placing his hands on his shoulders as if to throw you off, and you lock your arms around his waist, placing kisses across his collarbones, down his chest and on his stomach — and his muscles flex at the soft touches. "i said get off, baby."

"nope." you smile, batting your eyelashes at him before you continue what you're doing. when you move your lips over to his side, and kiss just below his rib cage, he jerks — lets out a short giggle that sounds even cuter than usual with the sleep mixed into his voice. "see, shuji, you're adorable."

"i punch people's teeth in for fun," he retorts, flipping over onto his left so you're forced to roll off of him — but you only climb back on and stick to him, hugging him tight and giving him another peck on the cheek. scowling, he continues, "and i'm on the run for murder."

slipping your hand under his chin, you slide your fingers behind his ear and under his jaw, lifting his face so you can place a small kiss on his lips. "mhm, so scary. but you're cute when you're running, too. all twiggy and stuff."

hanma's eyes finally open then; he tries to give you a wide stare, but is forced to squint with how bright it is in the room already — pressing his index finger to your lips to pause you, he blinks.

"twiggy?"

"mhm," you feign innocence, tapping his chin lightly. "you're tall and skinny. lanky; know what i'm saying?"

he stares at you for a second, before he grabs you by the back of your thighs and pulls you off onto the bed beside him, and gets up, pinning you between his hands and knees on the sheets in an instant.

his hair falls over his face, blonde and black locks lit up in the streaming sunlight, and his eyes glow; he's beautiful, and you blush despite yourself. "'m not twiggy, doll. i love you, but i'm fucking warnin' you. watch that mouth."

"heh," you giggle again, taking his face back in your hands and tugging him down for more kisses. "that's what got your attention? i'm literally showering you in my love here."

"take it back," he grumbles, and you bring one hand down to grip his bicep, lift yourself up a little so it's easier to kiss him. "mm," you put up a contemplative tone. "flex those muscles for me a little, and i'll think about it."

his arm flexes around your fingers, bulging hotly along with his pectorals, and when you laugh, he turns his face aside and laughs too, because fuck. "i love you," you say. "love you so much. my big, bad shuji, aren't you?"

"shut up," he mutters, and you grin, taking the chance instantly without a beat missed. "make me."

"fuck you, i'm goin' back to sleep." he lets out an exasperated sigh (holding back laughter) and falls on top of you, smothering you with his large frame, slotting his head in the gap above shoulder and turning his face so you can't bother him with kisses.

leaning over, you press your lips to the back of his neck, the faint scent of your own shampoo lingering in his hair from last night's shower. "i love you."

there's silence in answer — but only for a few seconds, before he turns his face back towards you, and opens his eyes again. he gives you another scowl, rolls his eyes again, before his lips stretch into a grin and he's pulling you closer.

"i love you, too." hanma mumbles, kissing you shortly—a press of his lips to your forehead, to your temples—before nuzzling his face in your neck. "now. let's fuckin' go back to sleep, please."

he's about to snuggle into you to spare himself from the light that's increasing in intensity as it pours in through the window, hoping you're satisfied, when he feels you pout. "shuji. you didn't say mwah."

the groan he lets out into your skin is loud, resounding in your ear and sending a pleasant shiver down your spine as you laugh. pulling back and grabbing your face, he tugs you in to give you another kiss. "for fuck's sake, baby, mwah."

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #hanma fluff #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji fluff #hanma drabbles #hanma scenarios #hanma headcanons #hanma hcs #tr fluff #tr x reader #tokrev fluff #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers hcs #tr headcanons #hanma x you #hanma imagines

[shoyoist]

𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 & 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 : hinata shoyo.

hinata shoyo is dazzling. no matter where he goes, no matter who he's with — he always shines the brightest. he's so warm, so radiant — a star, a sun. pulling everyone around him into orbit. and you love it. adore it.

but it's also because he's so full of that fiery heat and light, that you sometimes find yourself doubting what you have with him. it's nothing he did — he's perfect, and always has been, to you — but rather, it was your own insecurities that formed out of realizing just how different you were from him.

he's outgoing no matter who he's talking to, easily blending in while still somehow standing out, and people love him — you know more than a few others that seem to adore him the same way you do.

and you, being someone of the peaceful, subdued twilight between day and night — have no idea how you ended up with someone like him.

and even more so, you have no idea how he fell for someone like you.

because he — he sparkled, and he shone, and he was everything anyone could ever want, he could have won the heart of anyone he ever wanted. he could simply ask for a heart and he’d have it handed to him on a silver platter.

and you? you don’t shine or glow. in fact, you’re a little dim, if we’re going to talk about metaphors of light. and despite how incredibly happy you are together, it sometimes gets to you.

"hey," shoyo calls you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

you look up at him, still surfacing from all your musings, tracing your gaze over his muscled form, his hair and eyes that stand out so bright, tangerine and honey against his sun-bronzed skin. he tugs at the hem of his plain white tee, patting the pockets of his navy shorts to check for his phone and wallet.

it's barely an hour since the sun rose, and you think hinata is so much brighter than the light coming through the doors and windows.

he's about to leave for another practise match, and you're seated in your shared living room, morning coffee unfinished on the table in front of you.

he’s beautiful, you think. bathed in the morning sun, there he stands at your front door. japan's pride and joy, ninja shoyo. him, falling in love with you?

he'd told you that his people back home had cried bitterly over their loss when he left, deciding to return to brazil and play for a brazillian team rather than stay with his people in japan.

he'd told you with a mischievious glint in his eyes and a rogueish smile spread across his face, and the slightest hint of a blush tinting his cheeks. "but hey, they’ll get over it! and … i came back partly so i can be with you, you know. together, like this."

and that had melted your heart. just those words had brought you home the stars and the entire sky — but you also sometimes wonder. if he stayed there, would he be happier? would he be happier if he had chosen those other things over you?

if he were with someone else?

after all, you weren't anyone special, and he wouldn't be getting anything particularly worthy from you — apart from all your love and adoration, but whether that was worthy or not wasn't for you to decide. was it?

"hey, hey?" shoyo repeats, and you blink, standing up. you walk over to him, plucking a strand of curly orange hair off his shoulder and patting the creases away from his chest. "sorry, i was just thinking."

"hm," he tilts his head to a side, picking up his sports bag and pulling it over his shoulder as he does. you know he's not convinced.

the clock ticks past 7:30 AM, and you're glad you don't have any places to be today. you're tired, and you wouldn't be able to see shoyo off like this if you were rushing around getting ready to go out.

shoyo watches you for a few seconds, brows furrowed together ever so slightly. "you okay, baby? looking a little tired. wanna come to the beach with me?"

you smile, noticing how his portuguese was still on the simpler side — and shrug your shoulders as an answer. "that'll just distract you." you tell him in japanese.

lies. nothing can distract shoyo when he's in a game.

all that'll happen is that you'll get to see him in action, eyes somehow glowing brighter than before, sun turning his skin rosy, hair getting peppered with sand as he flies up, kicking his legs back and slamming the ball across the net. an enthralling sight. and then—

"i'll give you a kiss for every point i score." he grins, taking your hand — and all of a sudden, everything you've just been thinking about stops making sense.

"mhm?" you nod, and he licks his lips, thinking. "a kiss for every point, and if my team wins — i'll take you out to eat something good. come, it'll be good for you."

"and if you lose?" you ask, and he only grins wider. "i won't. trust me."

trust you? with my life, shoyo. with my everything. the things you've been thinking about stops making sense — because hinata shoyo is dazzling. he shines bright, he's radiant and he's like the sun. and in that same sense, his passions and desires and his love — they shine, too. it's clear that he adores you as much as you adore him.

with that mutual adoration present and so tangible even to you, though you sometimes feel as if you don’t deserve it, what more was needed?

"shoyo," you still ask, because hearing it from him makes it all better. "you love me, right?"

he looks confused for a second. "yeah? i love you. i love you more than anything."

and again, he plucks out the jewels of the sky and hands them all down to you in one fell swoop, with his words that glimmer and drip with the radiant sincerity of his feelings. "huh, is this what you're thinking about? it's in your eyes, i can see it."

"what do you see?" you ask, but then you forget everything because he's gripping your hand tighter and pulling you closer, for a kiss.

"i love you, mkay? we're together. forever. you know i wanna be with you forever." he says it against your lips, and you almost taste the essence of his words. "i love you, and i'm glad to be with you."

you almost tear up, he's so sweet and so sincere, how could you ever doubt him? 

how he understands what you're thinking so easily, how he says exactly what you want to hear without trying, you don't know — but you appreciate it, and you offer him a smile in return to the way he makes you feel so good, so light, inside. "i love you, too. i love you with all my heart."

"then let's go?" he steps back a little to look at you, bright orange curls framing warm, puppy eyes as he gives you a pout. “please? i wan’ you to come today.” you glance out to the street waiting outside your shared house, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and you nod. "give me a minute, i'll go change."

he gives you a grin that could harness all the power of the sun in it, letting go of you so you can go pull some better clothes on — and you catch his hand before it can fall to his side.

he turns back to you, inquiring, and you answer with a tug at his arm that lets him draw close enough for you to give him a little kiss on the cheek. "i really do love you."

and the blush that spreads across his face as you turn around and retreat to your room, is more proof that he loves you.

hinata shoyo is dazzling. he's the sun, he's the stars, he's the galaxy, and he's everything anyone could ever want. and he loves you.

loves you the way the sun carresses the moon, the way the rays of it kiss the shadows of the twilight at dawn and at dusk.

he's the pride and joy of japan, everyone loves him and he could have anything he had passion for, and anything he desired. and to him, that was to be a player of the sport that brewed and set alight his passions.

and to him, what he desired was you.

note: i was going to say it's crazy that i haven't posted much sfw shoyo content on here, but then i remembered that every time i write something like this about him it gets sooo personal 💔 this is a piece i wrote in 2021 but it comes out now because i say so ! thank you for reading !!

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #hinata fluff #hinata shoyo fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #hinata headcanons #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata drabbles #hinata shoyo drabbles

[shoyoist]

𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : mikage reo.

if there's one thing reo loves doing for you, the one and only love of his entire life, it's using all his money and all his privilege to spoil you silly. for someone so rich and so educated and so esteemed, reo is so incredibly rogueish and sweet. and he saves most of it for you.

he seems to know exactly what you need when you're having a bad day. he surprises you by popping up at your door with flowers and your favourite snacks, often takes you out on late night rides in his car, calls you by the sappiest petnames like 'bunny', 'angelface' and 'sweetie-pie'. oh, and his camera roll is full of dumb pictures he's taken of you. he refuses to delete any of them, because you're just too cute in each one of them.

and he's so attentive, too! always asks you if you're okay or if you're enjoying yourself, and somehow always knows when you're in need of a ride. his chauffeur is your best friend at this point. and he makes time off his busy schedule to personally pick you up from work every day, and brings you both an umbrella and a raincoat when it's raining.

and oh, he loves taking you out on the fanciest and most lavish of dinner dates. the two of you take turns — you take him out on a little picnic to a park, or you introduce him to the delights of hopping between one street-food stall to the other for an entire evening, and the next night he'll introduce you to a fancy restaurant that's even richer than the ones he took you to before.

you tell him tonight, that you feel out of place surrounded by all these filthy rich people, getting served dinner on a set that looks like it costs more than all the furniture in your bedroom combined — but reo assures you that you're perfectly fine.

because you're so fucking beautiful, seated across from him in the pretty satin number he'd bought for you specially for tonight, so cute as you look around awe-struck at the chandeliers hanging above, your lips painted softly to match the colour of your dress, your eyes bright and your hair lovely — reo thinks you look like royalty.

and a restaurant like this one isn't exactly the place for public displays of affection — but reo wants to slide into your booth, press you against the new-leather seat and kiss you senseless.

he pulls himself together though, leaning on his fist and giving you that slow, wide smile of his. "how's it here, bunny?" he asks. "you like this place better than the last?"

"how am i supposed to choose?" you laugh, taking a sip from the drink you've been served. "it's beautiful here, and everything is so — so expensive looking, and the drink is great!"

your eyes soften as they meet reo's, and he thinks he'll melt if he holds your gaze for too long. "thank you for bringing me here." you say, and he can't hold himself back from stretching across the table to give you a little kiss. the inside of your mouth tastes sweet, and he so badly wants to have some more. but that can be saved for later.

right now, he has to admire you. he has to watch how the gentle lighting plays over your skin, how the dress accentuates all your curves and lines, how you close your eyes to enjoy your drink. you're so pretty, reo feels overwhelmed.

the date isn't even over yet, and he's already thinking of where to take you next.

you look up, see him watching you with such a loving look in his twilight eyes, and when your gaze flutters away, your cheeks warm and your lips twitching in a shy little smile, he thinks he could empty out all that he's worth to take you out like this every night and treat you like the royalty that you are to him, just to see you smile like that again and again and again.

he'll never get enough of you. and he hopes desperately that you will never get enough of him, either. a lifetime of you and him together, always in love and always wanting more, more, more — more time spent together, more kisses to eachother's lips, more love poured into your hearts. reo wants that so bad.

he sits there and continues to watch you, wondering if tonight is the night where he'll finally man up and present to you the ring he's been keeping in his pocket for the last two weeks.

maybe. maybe not. he's not entirely sure yet.

the second time you catch him staring, you're more prepared. tucking a stray curl of hair behind you ear, you give him a teasing smirk. “something on your mind, baby?”

and reo feels the way his face colours and heats up, even as he smirks back. “just admiring my pretty bunny. why?”

you laugh, the sound of it like music in his ear, and fuck. you make him so nervous. maybe he'll be keeping the ring in his pocket for another two weeks.

yeah. he swallows, reaches for his own drink and takes a sip from it, never breaking eye contact with you. he'll do it later. you're going to be around for that, no matter how long it takes — aren't you?

“sweetheart,” he grins, eyes sparking with mischief. “do ya love me?”

“of course i do, reo.” you respond seriously, and it warms his heart. you always take that question so seriously. “i love you so much. it’s why i've been tolerating your ass for years now.” he rolls his eyes towards the end of that sentence, and it makes you giggle — but the next sip of your drink was barely down your throat, and it makes you choke.

shit, shit—

reo nearly spills his own drink as he leaps out of his seat and rushes to your side, clapping your back for you and offering you a napkin, shielding your frame from the rest of the room as you sputter into the napkin, giggling even as you're choking and your face is reddening with stress.

“what's so funny?” reo mutters, amusement laced in his voice as he rubs your back and offers you the glass of water a waiter brings for you. you drink from it and cough again, giggling and trying to tell him that he's such a worrywart — and when you finally pull yourself together, you smile at him and say, “you know, you're such a keeper.”

he ignores the feeling of the ring box digging into his hip as he straightens up and kisses your forehead. “what's that mean, huh?”

“hmph.” reo gives you a playful frown, reclaiming his seat across from you and adjusting the lapels of his jacket. “so does that mean you'd say yes if i asked you to marry me, mm?”

“it means you're so caring and sweet to me.” you muse, wiping your mouth with the napkin and setting it down. your lipstick is now faded, and reo makes a note to himself to help you with it once you're both back in the car, so you can mark up this dress shirt of his, too — the way you've marked up every shirt he's ever worn on a dinner date with you. it's a tradition, at this point.

you carry on, unaware of his musings. “you're so gentle and loving — husband material. look how worried you got just cause i choked on some wine!”

“yeah.” your answer is so quick, it stuns him. it's your turn to offer him a mischievous smile. “so?”

fuck, fuck, fuck — he's too nervous. he can't do it tonight. not tonight. so instead of pulling out that ring and getting on one knee for you, reo smiles back and gives you a wink. “so, bunny, i hope you'll refrain from choking on your wine again and keep yourself alive for the near future.”

and when he sees the way your eyes widen as the meaning of his words sink in, the way your shoulders lift and your lips part in a little gasp — reo is sure that despite how nervous he is about this matter, his adoration and passion for you is soon going to overturn his anxiety.

he'll be putting that ring on you soon enough. and then you'll be his precious lover, all for him to spoil silly and wake up next to every morning, forever and ever.

note: i'll be honest — if this makes no sense it's because this is just me rambling about how very deep reo's love runs. how affectionate and passionate he is. how badly he wants to be someone's number 1. how badly he wants to have someone for himself. yeah.

rbs & feedback are highly appreciated! and of course, feel free to send me an ask if you'd like to chat<3 i am very starved of interaction :P

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #blue lock fluff #reo fluff #mikage reo fluff #reo x reader #blue lock x reader #mikage reo x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #blue lock headcanons #reo headcanons #blue lock drabbles #reo drabbles

[shoyoist]

𝟎𝟐:𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌 : mikage reo.

the first thing that hits reo as he steps out of the plane is that the air around him smells familiar once more. the night is cold, and the crisp atmosphere that blankets japan beyond sunset soothes his nerves as he breathes it in, shutting his eyes momentarily to bask in the comforting feel.

the second thing that hits him, is that he's alone again.

reo watches, one hand languid on the handle of his suitcase, the other pulling at his ponytail to loosen it a little — as people take out their phones and dial their parents, their families and their partners, "hello?"'s and "i'm coming now"'s and "wait for me at the gate"'s filling the drowsy silence as they climb down the stairs and queue up for the bus that's waiting for them on the runway.

looking up at the blank night sky, he remembers absently that his mother had texted him to let him know that she and his father were not yet at home, and that they would send a chauffeur to pick him up.

boring. it's like the richer a man gets, the less people care about him. really care about him. and judging from the way his parents act sometimes, it's like the richer someone gets, the less they care about other people, too.

a chauffeur? fuck that. his eyebrows screw together. it's the first time he's ever gone abroad by himself. that too, as a subject of a project that government officials and authorities had zero trust in. the least they could do in such a situation, was to come pick their only son up from the airport themselves.

he doesn't have any luggage to pick up, so he skips past the group of people that line up by the conveyors, hauling his backpack higher up his shoulder and rolling his suitcase across the smooth tile as he makes a quick escape from the crowds, heading towards the exit.

he's scanning the line of cars in the waiting area for one with the mikage corporation emblem on it, when he catches sight of you.

and he can't believe his eyes, he really can't — so he just stands there and stares like an idiot, mouth hanging open — until you wave at him, and then he calls out, almost hesitant— "baby, 's that you?"

"reo?" you yell back. "hurry up, i've been waiting hours!"

the smile that blooms on his face then is dazzling. so bright and so full of unmasked happiness, that your aching feet and the hours you spent waiting in the frigid night air are all worth it.

he drops the bag he was carrying on his shoulder, forgets his suitcase just inside the big, sliding glass doors and he runs to you, pretty violet eyes creasing with his widening smile as he slams into you, all 185cm of him enveloping your frame in a tight, desperate hug. "hi."

"hi," you say back, wrapping your arms around him and letting his warmth save you from the icy night air. "you okay?"

"yeah," he sighs into your hair, before he starts laughing. "yeah i'm okay."

he's scooping you up into the air and twirling you around with the biggest smile on his face, before setting you back down and taking your face in his hands, meeting your lips in the most heated, breathless and starved kisses ever.

"mmh," your protest is muffled, lips pressed to the corner of his mouth. "you sure you're okay?"

"i've never been better, bunny." he laughs against your lips because he doesn't want to pull back even just to speak. "didn't think you'd come to pick me up."

when he finally lets you go (just to squeeze you in a hug again) you look past his shoulder and see people side-eyeing his suitcase and the bag he'd strewn across the floor on their way out, and you notice a security guard staring right at the two of you, looking unimpressed as he taps his foot, waiting for reo to retrieve his things.

"of course i came." putting your hands on his chest, you reach up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "now, go get your things back, baby. your chauffeur's been waiting as long as i have."

poor man, reo thinks. if his parents had just driven here themselves, along with you or not, he could've gotten himself a good night's sleep. but no matter. he can't find it in himself to remain gloomy when you're here.

his phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he fishes it out, the screen is lit up and a couple of notifications pop up.

nagi: hey. you landed yet? m sleepy... :x isagi: hi reo! text me when you get home ok?

he looks up at the night sky once more and somehow, despite the bright lights overhead, he can see a couple of stars.

"'m glad you came, bunny." he smiles at you, unbothered by your tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. "was a little bummed that we all had separate flights back home."

and it's almost silly how his bad mood could be so easily cured by the mere presence of another person. he'd been thinking that you'd be fast asleep. hadn't thought much about the see you soon&lt;3 message you'd sent him just before the attendant made him switch his phone to flight mode.

he was thinking he'd spend the drive home alone and bored, and make it back to a mansion with nobody to welcome him in, leave his suitcase and backpack in the foyer and go to sleep alone in a cold, empty bed too big for one person.

but — but you're here.

and he feels so warm. so loved. if blue lock taught him anything about himself, it's that he loves hard and takes great pleasure in knowing that the ones he loves do love him back.

and you, he thinks. you love him back.

why else would you be here?

"reo." you urge, pointing at the luggage he'd left behind, and he turns around to give his things a glance, thinking that he's not all alone after all. when he turns back, he sees his car pull in from the back, the driver rolling down the window to lean out and call his name.

yeah, he should get going. shouldn't forget the terrible traffic that lingers around the airport at all times.

"alright, alright, let me go get it." he says, hands on your hips, pulling you into him again. giving you the sweetest look with those lovely eyes of his, smile so tender and loving, he mumbles, "after just one more kiss? can't help it, i missed you so much."

"fine," you roll your eyes playfully as he drags you in. "but only 'cause i love you so much." yeah. you do love him back.

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #blue lock fluff #reo fluff #mikage reo fluff #reo x reader #blue lock x reader #mikage reo x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #blue lock headcanons #reo headcanons #blue lock drabbles #reo drabbles

[shoyoist]

★ ... 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 .ᐟ

all the tags are at the end of this post. click on the tag you'd like to browse, and you will be redirected to a page of all the posts i've made with that specific tag.

tags related to writing.

#くnavigation. ろ : masterposts.

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. : all my writing.

#₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. : all my sfw works.

#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA. : all my nsfw works.

tags related to asks.

#[♡] mail ◟੭ : all answered asks.

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if you're off anon or if you're a mutual, your ask will either be tagged with your alias or username. if you are an emoji anon, your emoji will be placed before the word anon.

personal & misc. tags.

#₊˚ପ⊹ soliloquy .ᐟ‍ : general posts tag.

#くcatalogue ろ : fic recs & readlist.

#くrb. ろ OR #くsrb. ろ : all my reblogs.

selfship tags.

#༝˚૮ .♡ my honey. : posts about my girlfriend.

#‧₊˚♡ hinarekha. : selfship tag for shoyo & i

#‧₊˚♡ rekhanma. : selfship tag for shuji & i

#‧₊˚♡ rekhamis. : selfship tag for mista & i

#‧₊˚♡ rekhayantao : selfship tag for yanfei, hu tao & i

#‧₊˚♡ reokha. : selfship tag for reo & i.

#‧₊˚♡ vinkha. : selfship tag for chamber & i.

Ꮂˋ♡. shoyo-mi'amour. : selfship writing tag for shoyo.

ఌ︎ +.* shuji-moncheri. : selfship writing tag for shuji.

⋆ ༉ ₊˚. reo-mi'corazon. : selfship writing tag for reo.

#くnavigation. ろ #₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™. #₊˚ପ⊹ IMERA. #₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA. #₊˚ପ⊹ soliloquy .ᐟ‍ #༝˚૮ .♡ my honey. #‧₊˚♡ hinarekha. #‧₊˚♡ rekhanma. #‧₊˚♡ rekhamis. #‧₊˚♡ rekhayantao #‧₊˚♡ reokha. #‧₊˚♡ vinkha. #Ꮂˋ♡. shoyo-mi'amour. #ఌ︎ +.* shuji-moncheri. #⋆ ༉ ₊˚. reo-mi'corazon.