IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH ~ s. itoshi, m. kaiser, o. aiku x f!reader
⊹ in which you miss their match because you're sick. ⊹ tags/cw: reader is referred to as "meine liebe", "prinzessin" in kaiser's, that's literally it LMAO ⊹ wc: 876 total (this is very short) ⊹ a/n: very self indulgent but also dedicated to @aozui my fellow sae kisser and @wakeupmaddie kaiser glazer (but nonchalant)
“you’re burning up,” sae itoshi states bluntly, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. scowling, you swat it away, wincing at the throbbing pain in your head and the aching in your bones.
“am not, you just have cold hands.”
“will you quit being so stubborn for once?” he’s in the bathroom doing his hair now, his voice drifting out to the living room, where you lay limply on the couch. “if you need to rest, then just rest. you don’t have to be there.”
“but i’ve never missed any of your matches,” you protest, squeezing your eyes shut, though you have a sinking feeling this will have to be the first. your boyfriend doesn’t take no for an answer.
sae sighs audibly. he emerges from the bathroom, hands still damp from washing, and sits down in front of you.
you crack open an eyelid, and let out a tiny sigh.
“hey, you,” you mumble.
“hey.” he brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes, tracing your lips with his thumb.
“i’m sorry i can’t go see you play today.”
he frowns. why would you need to be sorry? “i’ll make a pot of tea for you, and i’ll have your favourite snacks delivered here soon. focus on getting better.”
you lean into his touch and hum, content. he watches and feels you drift off to sleep, and only then does he move to the kitchen to boil water for your tea. and you have no way of knowing this, but sae presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before he leaves, quietly shutting the door behind him.
after all, whether you’re there cheering him on or not, you’re the only one sae itoshi plays for.
michael kaiser is a man of few wants. it’s how he was raised - to cling on to anything and anyone, because things are all so temporary.
which is why you feel so guilty that you can’t even give him one of the few things you’ve offered him all the while you’ve been together - your presence. your presence at one of his most highly-anticipated games of the year.
by the time you wake up one hour before the match, all groggy and feeling gross, it’s too late. the stadium he’s playing at is two hours away, and when you factor in the time it takes to get ready, you know there’s no way you can go to see him.
you know he’s been telling you not to go, because you’ve had the flu for a while now. his voice echoes in your head, still; prinzessin, i’ll need you to stay at home and get better, okay? take your meds? can you do that for micha?
and you have to admit, you feel a little better after that nap. but you could’ve sworn you’d set multiple alarms for yourself just before michael left the house, so you could wake up on time -
unless…
you check your phone, and a voicemail from your boyfriend catches your eye. you sit back and let it play.
“guten morgen, meine liebe.” you swear you hear a hint of amusement in his voice as he says this, as it’s nowhere near morning. “i admit i turned your alarms off, and for that i’m sorry. but you’ll still be here with me, in spirit. okay, liebling?”
“okay, meine schatz,” you find yourself smiling and responding to the voicemail, even though michael’s not actually there with you.
and when your boyfriend scores the winning goal that night on national television, you see him look straight into the cameras and mouth your name.
oliver aiku isn’t the type to fuss. he’s not the kind to make a big deal out of things like colds or missed matches. life is long, and there’s always another game, another night out, another chance.
but when he walks into the apartment to find you curled up in bed, shivering despite the thick blanket wrapped around you, he feels something unfamiliar twist in his chest.
he leans against the doorway, arms crossed. “you look like shit.”
you groan, burrowing further under the sheets. “wow, thanks, oliver. that really helps.”
he smirks, but it fades just as fast. you’re usually quick with a comeback, but today your voice is weak, your face paler than he’d like.
he sighs and steps closer, crouching next to the bed. “i was gonna grab dinner with the guys after the match.” he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “but i figured you’d rather have me here.”
you blink up at him. “wait - what? the match -”
“relax, i played,” he cuts in. “did my job, had my fun, then left early.” he taps your forehead lightly with two fingers. “i’d rather be here, anyway.”
you frown. “you don’t have to -”
“i know.” his voice is softer now, just like his touches on your hand. “but i want to.”
oliver aiku has never been the type to make promises he can’t keep, and he’s spent years living like nothing and no one could ever tie him down. but tonight, as he pulls you closer, listening to your soft and fevered, though slightly calmed breathing, he realizes - if there’s anywhere he wants to be, it’s right here.
bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025
sae itoshi was not a nonchalant boyfriend or a chill guy, despite how much he tried to seem like he was. you don’t ask him for his opinion on your outfit? do you not want him (to compliment you and ask you to do a small twirl so he could see the ensemble properly and then pepper your cute face with kisses)? you don’t want him to share his food with you? okay, so basically you’re saying you want him to go to hell.
you tell him to quit liking flirty comments from random people under your posts? what’s wrong with that, he agrees with them— you’re absolutely stunning. and no, he isn’t doing it just so those randoms get a notification that saeitoshi, with a silly picture of you and him with your cheeks smushed together as his profile picture, has liked their comment so that they now know you aren’t single and looking for some sleazy jackass who thinks they can get your undivided attention just by commenting ‘🔥🔥’. seriously, how dare you accuse him of such pettiness?
but really, none of that is compareable to how he feels right now; damp hair sticking to his forehead, towel over his shoulder, one hand buttoning up his loose shirt while he’s looking at his phone, fresh out of the shower after the usual training. his teammates are yapping about something like they always do but it’s all silent in his head as he takes in what feels like utter blasphemy on the screen.
zero notifications.
well, actually, he had a shit ton of texts messages from his teammates and people he considered somewhat his friends but none of them really matter— only you do.
and you hadn’t texted him since yesterday (almost 24 hours ago!), when he was on his way home and asked you if you wanted him to bring you extra snacks or something.
do you hate him?
he clicked out of the messages app and checked instagram, where you’d usually have flooded his dms with chronically online shit that he had no idea how you found funny. seriously, what the heck is all that about divers going into small spaces and eye of dih? he visibly deflates when he sees you hadn’t sent anything on there either (the last text was from him, when he’d said ‘???’ to your text that read ‘what is a father?’).
Sae [16:43pm]: Do you hate me
nah. scoffing to himself, he deleted the words, exited the app and pocketted his phone. since when was he such an attention deprived, needy little shit? whatever.
by the time he opens the front door to your shared home, there’s still no text, no call, no reel, nothing from you. “angel?” he calls out in his usual, casual tone, nudging the door shut with his boot. “’m home.”
“in here, sae,” you call out from the bedroom and he quickly takes off his shoes, drops his duffel bag onto the couch and trudges into the bedroom, feeling as if if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging harshly behind him. “i was just about to text you.” you tell him with a small smile from where you’re sitting on the office chair behind the desk, your laptop in front of you and notes strewn all over the desk. you were.. studying.
ah, right. no wonder you hadn’t texted him.
you barely register his silent footsteps and fast pace until he’s right behind you within the time it took for you to blink, one hand on the arm of the chair to turn it around before he’s half hunched over you, his other hand pressing on your back to tug you into a hug. “missed you,” his voice is muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, the soft tufts of his moist hair tickling your chin and neck. “thought you hated me.”
“what?” it was said so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you do and now you’re pulling back a bit to look at him properly. “what gave you that idea?”
“forget about it,” he tries to avoid the question in a painfully untactful manner, attempting to hug you again, but faltering as he sees the look on your face. god, this was so humiliating. “y‘didn't text me today— or call, or send me stupid reels,” he points out with an embarrassed grunt, standing up to his full height and running a hand through his hair. “thought you were pissed at me for beating you in monopoly or something.”
huffing, you grin up at him. “you didn’t have to bring that up, jerk. but no, as you can see,” you gesture to your table and he notices the splotches and lines of dried ink on your fingers from your pen. “i’ve been studying. or trying to, at least.”
“huh.” he lets out, grasping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers before untangling them again so he could toy around with them. his brows furrow and he scoffs when you continue, saying something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you’d notice.’ “yeah, well, i noticed. i dunno. kinda hard to miss the zero texts from the only person i reply to, yeah?”
your eyes brighten at that, but you tease, “ohh, yeah, right. sorry, i forgot you’re a friendless loser.”
“look who’s talking,” he shoots back, and you’d almost be offended if it wasn’t for the playful look in his eyes. he sighs and dips his head to press a kiss to your temple before walking over to the closet.
“were you really sad that i didn’t send you stupid reels?” you ask him with a curious look while watching him pick out a random t-shirt and sweats, not making fun of him like you’d usually do, just genuine curiousity in your tone.
he hums in response, undoing a few buttons of his shirt before tugging it off his head and glancing at you, with his teal eyes narrowed in contemplation, shirt still hanging around his elbows. “guess so. ’s stupid, huh?”
“nah,” is your immediate reply, followed by a small shrug. “i think it’s sweet, actually. in a pathetic sort of way. you’re kinda sweet.”
during his 10-minute break from training the next day, he finds himself on the bench of the locker room, resting his aching legs with his half empty water bottle next to him as he’s scrolling through your dms with a soft smile. a shit ton of reels and one ‘good luck at practice!!’ message stares back at him.
yeah. he thinks you’re (kinda) sweet too.
BROS THE TYPE OF GUY TO !
sypnosis ; cute things they do in a relationship
characters ; isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo, nagi, rin, sae, shidou, hiori, kurona, kaiser, ness
ISAGI the type of guy to tell his mom about you and ask her for advice.
BACHIRA the type of guy to talk shit about all the people you hate with you.
CHIGIRI the type of guy to use your hair ties and always keep one around his wrist.
REO the type of guy to rent out the place where you guys had your first date to propose.
NAGI the type of guy to purposely lose during games just to see the proud glint in your eyes when you finally beat him.
RIN the type of guy to switch places with you on the sidewalk so that he's facing the road.
SAE the type of guy to put his hand on your thigh while driving.
SHIDOU the type of guy to say "is this dude bothering you?" and proceed to beat up the air.
HIORI the type of guy to carry a polaroid around and hang pictures of the two of you in his room.
KURONA the type of guy to take you on stargazing dates.
KAISER the type of guy to randomly start flirting when he realises he's losing the argument.
NESS the type of guy to move you to the side by holding your waist.
I ғᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴘᴇʀ 'ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ I ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ?
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.9k TYPE: Humor, Teasing, ERM I think y/n and kaiser might like each other 🤓 WARNING: Suggestive sorry (flirting is only verbal but explicit at times)
Kaiser always looks alright with his hair wet. Not, like, stunning or anything, but passable. Then you know it’ll start standing up in weird ways after it dries a little and he’ll ask Ness to help him with it — which, embarrassing, by the way.
But anyway. You wanted to check out the communal bath after you took a shower, figured you’d be alone because it was already bordering on late, and Kaiser followed you because why wouldn’t he. Not like you value your peace and solitude or anything. He can be such a pest sometimes.
You were telling him what Isagi told you — it’s called a sento and apparently it’s different from the more popular onsen — and he said you weren’t ‘worldly’ and that you weren’t ‘impressing him’ and then some more about how ‘everyone knows this.’ Shithead. You should spit in his breakfast tomorrow, if you remember.
Well, you like sitting in the bath, at least, so you’re not too sour right now. Even Kaiser being right next to you can’t ruin it.
“I like this Raichi guy,” you say.
Kaiser shakes his head a little to show you he disapproves. “Don’t tell me you mingle with them. Also, the guy’s always benched. He’s second-rate.”
“No, listen, he was telling me about this sexy soccer motto he has. I really wanna know what it’s about.”
“You’re embarrassing. If you’re in my entourage, you should act like it.”
“Dude, you’re just mad at Isagi ‘cause he was trending on football twitter more than you were that day,” you say.
“I’m not!”
Very persuasive argument coming from him here. It’ll take a lot out of you to take it apart. He’s fuming about it, too. Maybe it’s not so bad Kaiser came along if you can poke fun at him.
“I don’t know why you’re the favorite on the team, anyway,” you say. “They all die over your corny tattoo and not to mention how much you love showing it off. Not cool at all.”
“You wish you were me. Now you’re being jealous because no one likes you, and it’s making you look even uglier than usual,” says Kaiser, seeming to believe himself if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.
“I mean, I had a girlfriend till recently, you know.” Kaiser rolls his eyes, but you ignore him. He’s always doing this, pretending he doesn’t want to hear you. “She had this botched blue dye job and said things like ‘pussy power,’ with the crystals in her room and the tarot cards and all.”
“Yeah? Sounds great. Did you pick her up after a match, loser?”
You click your tongue and wag your finger at him just to be annoying. “No, I don’t fool around with fans. Seems more like your forte.”
He flicks the offending finger away. “I’ve never done that, you slanderous pig.”
“No, but listen, she didn’t care about football at all. She didn’t even know what a scissor kick is. Ooh, she drove me wild.” You sing the last part, looking up at the ceiling fondly as if you’re recalling a warm memory.
Kaiser narrows his eyes at you, frowning. “You’re one strange individual.” And what a pompous way to put it.
“But anyway, wanna know what kinda tattoo I’d get?”
“I seriously don’t care.”
“A skull with two guns. Hard as fuck.”
“You’re so lame. It’s appalling, and also probably why you got dumped.”
He’s taking the tattoo thing seriously. At least seriously enough to insult you over it. He’s even snickering at you in amusement. His face is always, how can you put it… snide, but he does look a touch more evil when he starts grinning and shit. What a hoot, though. Really.
“Nah, there was this guy. He wore suspenders with plaid polos and these little sweaters over them. They were sustainable. Sustainable. Can you believe it? Sustainable! I didn’t stand a chance.” You poke him on the neck, already distracted from what you were rambling about. Kaiser is going to bring up your low attention span soon, you can smell it on him. It doesn’t take any effort to reach out, though, what with him sitting so close next to you. “This isn’t such a bad spot for a tattoo, actually. I don’t know, maybe you were onto something.”
“Paws off,” he says, swatting you away like a bug. A pedestrian bug, probably, at least in his imagination. “You really wanna fondle me that badly, you’ll use any excuse to do so?”
“Paws!” you repeat, clapping. “You’re hysterical.”
Kaiser rolls his eyes again. He seems to like to do that a lot, at least in your presence. If there was such a thing as competitive eye-rolling, you wager he’d be good at it, maybe even better than he is at football.
“No, but listen-”
“God, I hate it when you say that,” he interrupts with a groan, then contradicts himself by also swinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer just to yawn in your face with great exaggeration. The water is way too hot for this nonsense, so you push him away. “Because I never want to listen to you.”
“You’re crazy. Insane. It’s super clinical. Like, really.”
“Yes, I’m sure, unlike me, you’d pass a psychiatric evaluation because I’m crazy and you aren’t. Of course.”
“Imagine-”
“Can you stop topic-hopping?” Kaiser asks, annoyed. See, you knew he’d bring it up. “Does your head ever hurt with how much bullshit goes through it?”
You shush him. He scowls at you like you’re some mold growing in the bath, but you disregard his expression of disdain. “Imagine you’re having a nice day, I don’t know, at practice. Then I barge in with all of my asshole glory, right, and I walk up to you, and for no reason, I say, ‘On your knees,’ instead of greeting you. Isn’t that kinda deranged?”
Kaiser stares at you. To his credit, he’s decent at maintaining a poker face, but once he’s embarrassed, there’s no hiding it, no going back. Because no matter how much he does his usual male posturing or whatever it’s called, his face is all red, the blush even going up to his ears, mouth wavering the slightest bit. “W-What? In your dreams.”
“Oh, do you like getting bossed around or something?” you ask with the sensitivity of a numb toe. “That’s so pathetic.”
It’s quite the spectacle when his skin somehow becomes even more flush. Sick of your leering, maybe, Kaiser whips around, albeit not all the way, and covers his cheek with his hand while peering at you through his fingers. Finally, he decrees, “You suck,” with too much authority.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forget about me, though. In that situation, do you spit or do you swallow?”
It’s unclear whether you’re getting any gratification out of this besides the satisfaction of flustering him, but you smile in amusement regardless. As if you care about Kaiser sitting there, looking all pretty and nervous because of some nonsense you’d been spewing. Not like you’re crazy about him or anything. That’d be ridiculous. You couldn’t be more unfazed if you tried.
You grab your towel with what you’d call impressive swiftness, then turn around and stand, covering yourself before preparing to go on your merry way. Kaiser pulls you back by the ankle, trying to trip you or something, the menace. Hilarious guy, really.
He is staring up at you in this petulant sort of way, grabbing onto his own towel with his other hand. “Why are you leaving so soon?” he asks, sounding peeved, as if you haven’t been here with him for an unreasonable amount of time already.
“I thought I should give you some privacy since you’re all hot and bothered now,” you say (with this douchebag laugh you have for situations like these, where you’re being a douchebag — self-explanatory), stepping out of his grip. Then you try to imitate his voice, but more high-pitched, accompanying your performance with a few vulgar hand gestures. “Oh, [Y/n], you slanderous pig! I think that’s what you’d sound like.”
“You’re such a lowlife,” he says, before all but leaping out of the bath and trying to maim you right here on the spot, and the only thing to save you from your demise is that he gets lightheaded and almost faints immediately after.
You reach out to pull him up and keep him steady, holding him by the arms. “You can’t be jumping out of the bath like that, man, come on.”
The lack of response concerns you, but after a while, Kaiser gathers his wits enough to say, “I’m going to make you slip, and I’ll be praying you split your head open.”
You burst out laughing. “Do it, then. You don’t have it in you, do you?”
Instead of doing as he promised to retaliate to your provocation, he settles for letting go of you and glaring, before clutching the side of his head and going still again. If there was any medical wing in this goddamn football contraption, maybe you would’ve taken him, but alas. At least you don’t need to worry about Kaiser too much since he eventually concedes and holds onto your arm for support.
The sight of you two stumbling around towards the changing room is probably comedic — uncoordinated as hell, covering yourselves with these flimsy little towels, using the hands not clutching at the other.
“You’re supposed to drink a lot of water before getting in,” you say.
“It’s your fault! You didn’t warn me we were going.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you weren’t invited. Jeez.”
“Oh, whatever.”
You return the tiny towel to the basket, swapping it for a bigger one and making quick work of drying yourself. You’re slipping on your shirt when you ask, “Is your head all right now?”
“I’m fine.”
When you turn around to judge whether he’s being truthful or not, he’s dabbing himself in a manner which is way more laborious, examining his reflection in the mirror as if he’s in some slow motion commercial where the camera will capture a conspicuous water droplet falling down his neck, admiring his jaw from different angles. He makes you sick sometimes.
“I’m not gonna wait for you to finish checking yourself out.”
He shoos you away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Unlike his, your actions most often align with your words, though, so you do walk out of the door. You’re not even ten steps in when Kaiser reappears, now magically dressed.
“Stop rushing,” he says, pushing you out of the way — and for no reason! There’s enough space for both of you in the hallway. You end up lagging a bit behind him. “I’m dizzy.”
“I thought you said-”
“Blah, blah,” he cuts you off, untying his hair and doing a bad job of smoothing it out with his fingers.
You’re rooming with him and Ness, so you’re already headed in the same direction. As much as this stinks, your other option was Gesner and Grim. God, is fucking Gesner obsessed with dick cheese. Of all things, that’s what he’s always talking about. Grim has your condolences, but the problem is out of your hands now.
“Your hairstyle’s ridiculous.”
Kaiser turns his nose up and smiles, coming off as pleased by the insult. “You can only wish to pull it off.” Always preening like a peacock. He’s entertaining. You swear he is.
You hook one of the ends, where it’s the bluest, around your finger, twirling it around and around. “I had a dream about you recently.”
“Aww, I’m on your mind even when you’re unconscious. I could vomit right now.”
“You were in the meditation position, but you were levitating, and the rat tails were holding you up.”
Maybe you’ve committed some kind of utmost offense, because he doesn’t even bother insisting they’re not rat tails this time. “Wow, those are the kinds of things you dream about me? Your brain is defective to the core.”
“What do you want me to dream about you, then? Are you implying something?”
He faces you, and he has this way of looking at you like you’re a blight on humanity. You have an urge to press your palms against his cheeks to check how warm they get when he blushes, but resist it. “You’re so delusional.”
He’s rolling his eyes again.
“Keep rolling them, see where it gets you.”
“What, are you implying something?” Kaiser asks, mocking you, but he seems kind of happy at the insinuation. You’re not about to point it out, though, having a semblance of self-preservation.
“But anyway, your hair,” you say. “It looks good for tugging on.”
He snorts, either at your audacity to speak such things out loud to him, or at the way you straight up ignored his question.
So you elaborate, just so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “Yeah, like, I kinda wanna grab you and swing you around till you fly outta my grip.”
“What?! As if.”
“It’d be so funny, though.”
“Maybe to other stupid people like you. Dense people who always ruin the fucking moment, for example, that type of thing.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, stifling a laugh before entering the room.
The lights are still on when you come in. Ness seems to be reading some kind of book, sitting upright and all. “Hey, guys. You were gone for a while.”
“We were,” Kaiser says, you assume just because he likes hearing himself talk. “All that time I can’t get back.”
You crouch down to get him a water bottle in case he forgot how dehydrated he was (or more likely decides he’s above getting it by himself). It’s rare for you to do something out of the goodness of your heart, so when you turn around to pass it and find him draping himself over the solitary bed — the one you won dibs on in an honest round of rock, paper, scissors — you swear to never do anything nice for him ever again.
“Hey, get off! It’s mine.”
“But I want it,” he whines, as if his word holds more weight than the aforementioned game of rock, paper, scissors, which, as already established, you won.
You’re about to make an earnest attempt at throwing him out of the bed until Ness comes to his defense. “Come on, leave him alone.”
Saying no to Kaiser is exceptionally easy. But going against what Ness is asking? You can’t get a read on the guy. He’s either way too happy most of the time, or is secretly plotting your murders for all you know. You toss the water bottle at Kaiser, leaving him to smirk at your relenting.
“By the way, do you mind if I turn the lights off after I do my nighttime routine in the bathroom? I’m kind of tired,” Ness says.
“Sure,” allows Kaiser. So generous and charming with a winning personality to boot, this guy.
You lean against the bunk bed and ask, “Oh yeah, why are you still up?”
“I thought it might be rude if I went to bed before you both came back, so I decided to wait.”
Damn, now you feel kind of bad for dilly-dallying for so long. You clutch your chest with a tasteful sense of drama. “You’re so perfect. Hey, Ness, you wanna take the top bunk?”
“Wow, really?”
“Why not at this point,” you say. After all, Ness came in second in the game, but gave it up to Kaiser, and he ruined everything already.
“Thanks!” He grins at you before rushing off to do his business, almost blinding you with the sweetness he emits. Your gaze trails after him until he leaves the room.
Kaiser is looking at you with a mix between scorn and disgust when you walk over to his side to retrieve your phone from the bedside table, but you pretend not to notice.
Figuring you have nothing better to do, you take Ness’s previous spot, lying down on your stomach, ready to check your notifications. In your peripheral vision, you see Kaiser take his shirt off theatrically, then he has the fucking nerve to throw it at you. He makes such a big show out of existing.
It’s probably more painless to throw him a glance now than to be stubborn, so you exhale out of your nostril in resignation and turn your attention back to him. Kaiser props himself on his elbow while reclining on his side, posing on the bed, gracing you with a bastard smile. Almost presenting himself like a Renaissance painting you’re supposed to admire in some chaste, intellectual kind of way.
“Wanna know something?”
“What?” he asks, apparently irritated since you don’t seem so appreciative of him right now.
“I think shitty, obnoxious guys like you need to be put in their place,” you tell him.
It really is way too obvious on his complexion when he starts getting shy. He’s like a breathing mood ring. It’s almost fascinating. For a second, Kaiser is incredulous, but then he turns smug again, addressing you with a sense of challenge. “Don’t even joke. You’re not really about it like that. All you do is talk.”
You think you’re gonna start having even more fun together after today.
___
No homo I HATE HIM 😍
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 0.9k TYPE: Humor, Fluff (debatable), Early relationship WARNING(S): tw Kaiser, tw AWKWARD
You are taunting him.
This is an offense Kaiser considers very grave. Of course you’ve done it before and often to his face, and it can be fun in a way like a fake chase where the victim knows they’re not in any real danger (maybe the word is ‘playful’ even though both of you get foul with it), but this kind of mockery is degrading. You’re not doing it on purpose, which makes it an act of second nature. And that means it's unforgivable.
“I hate this corny ass movie.” You gesture at the screen. “Wish they’d scream more, also.”
“You said you wanted to watch it,” murmurs Kaiser, not really giving a fuck considering he’s not even paying attention to the movie. His gaze is fixated on your hand, now far away from his again. Just when his skin was about to brush against yours and he was mentally congratulating himself for his discretion, you pulled away in such a blithe manner. All that straining for nothing.
“Well it sounded entertaining like, in a bad way, but it’s just boring. Also the religious themes are so superficial and edgy, you can’t even laugh. I think they should’ve been Amish. At least that would’ve been funny.”
You shift, settling your hand back over the couch. Kaiser wishes you were a little closer, though at least he can resume the hand holding mission, inching his fingers towards yours again. The physical response to what he’s attempting is embarrassing. With every advance his heart races harder, and his palms are sweaty, and it’s just fucking ridiculous. He can imagine your skin under his, almost tangible.
Technique-wise it’s not complicated. Despite the amount he’s tensing up, Kaiser understands, logically, that he’s making a mountain out of a molehill. But it is a tender gesture and Kaiser doesn’t know how to be gentle or sweet. Softness is alien to him. There is a certain light he needs you to see him in, to come off as suave and charming. It has to be perfect and smooth and like he’s done it thousands of times before, even though now will be the first. And you will swoon over him also, he’ll make sure of it.
Almost there, he’s about to grasp your hand in his, holy shit-
“Micha, are you even paying attention?” You adjust your position again, pulling it away completely as you recline on your side against the armrest. “I thought a pretentious snob like you would have more critiques to make?”
“The movie’s so shitty it has rendered me speechless,” he says. It comes out easy and natural enough, but his blood is boiling. Can you not sit still for more than a second?! This was the seventh time!
“Fair enough,” you reply, eyes still glued to the screen.
You’re teasing him, aren’t you? Otherwise how would it happen so much? You think messing with him is funny??? Exploiting his moment of weakness and faltering?!
Kaiser smirks (at nothing; the gesture is pointless since you’re not even looking at him and entirely performative for himself). As if you’ll get the better of him. Maybe more drastic measures are in order.
He starts scooting closer. You’re still bitching about the movie and with how slow he’s moving, he doubts you’re noticing him closing in on you, and even if you are you’re choosing to feign ignorance to it in your transparent attempts at belittling him. Well, that’s the way he’s perceiving your behavior, anyway, as a personal slight against him.
His arm is about to reach you, will reach you, wrap around you. He’s going to embrace you soon. Heart thumping away in his chest, Kaiser realizes his throat is dry all of a sudden when he swallows, but it’s going to happen-
You stand up and head to the bathroom without a second glance in his direction.
Kaiser sits there frozen in whatever position he was in mid-movement before your betrayal, jaw hanging open, and he realizes he must look like a stupid buffoon at the moment. He is livid, however. How dare you!? When he grits his teeth, it hurts a little.
After assuming a more acceptable and casual stance, he heeds the tv, finally. Some girl tries to drown the main character, but ends up dying of a head injury instead somehow and then some other bullshit starts happening.
Wow. You weren’t kidding, this movie is fucking garbage. It almost distracts him from his predicament.
You return and sit back down next to him all relaxed like you haven’t been actively giving him an uptick in cortisol and adrenaline. Do you think this is a game? It’s as if you can’t even tell you’re dealing him psychic damage — playing innocent and oblivious to your transgressions. What a cunning pretense that is.
Kaiser… grabs your hand and tugs it. And stares at you straight on. It’s kind of unnerving and intense for no reason.
You raise your eyebrows at him as if he’s being strange, this confused expression on your face. “Why are you squeezing so hard? I value my blood circulation, you know?”
Eye twitching, he corrects his grip to a proper, more sensible one, lacing your fingers together. You do not understand what his deal is. Kaiser says, “This will be the best hand holding of your fucking life even if it’s the last thing I do.”
… What.
Unable to help yourself, you burst out laughing. “You’re so odd, Micha.”
___
POV you wanted to have a date but your boyfriend is perpetually mentally stuck in his own version of silent hill
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.2k TYPE: Humor, Established Relationship WARNING: Kaiser 😰
You wake up to someone shaking your shoulders. This is immediately alarming, but what’s even worse is that once your eyes flutter open, the obnoxious lights blind you. Your eyes shut close again, but you’re confused — for one you did not see the perpetrator, which means there might be an intruder in your house or something, and the other thing is, you recall turning off the lights before going to bed. So maybe it’s a poltergeist or something.
No need to fret for long. Soon enough you hear a familiar voice speak, his tone demanding and intonation annoying (as usual). “What have you done?”
You rub at your eyes some more and try to blink them open. It still hurts, but finally your brain processes that Kaiser has come back. Though the last time you spoke to him about his arrangements after the away game, he claimed he’d come back on Monday in the morning. Instead he’s already home two days earlier at an odd hour.
Did he lie to you? Well, you don’t have enough time to mull on this matter because Kaiser continues.
“How could you do this to me?!”
“Wha… What did I do?”
Nothing noteworthy you could’ve done comes to mind. There is a large amount of drool in the corner of your mouth, so you wipe it with the back of your hand as your awareness stirs more, warding off your drowsiness. While you’re glad it’s no longer painful to merely look at things, it also means you’ll have trouble falling asleep again because of Kaiser’s histrionics rousing you too much.
He’s very much still in his airport clothes and his suitcase seems to have been dumped in front of your side of the bed, placed in such a position which has been undoubtedly calculated with a high chance of your tripping on it in the morning in mind. You open your mouth to scold him about it and to order him to put his shit someplace else, but instead Kaiser keeps making a scene,
“I go out of my way to surprise you by returning at such an inhumane part of the day-”
You roll your eyes while Kaiser gesticulates. Your lack of amusement isn’t a deterrent to him at all, this fact made clear by the way he ignores what you did to go on with his charade.
“-and what greets me when I first step into our bedroom? YOU. Lying in OUR bed. With ANOTHER MAN.”
…
…
…?
“What?” you ask. “What man?”
“He’s right there. Do you think I’m stupid? You think you can gaslight your way out of this one?” Kaiser is still yelling. In fact he’s yelling so much, you’re really considering maybe some man materialized under your sheets because otherwise it makes no sense why Kaiser would be so convincingly angry. And yet you know there is no one else besides you inside of the property, so you can’t muster a response more appropriate than a scratch of your head. “How could you do this to me? After everything we’ve been through together. Answer me!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the man in your arms!”
“You’re driving me crazy,” you say, both bewildered and stunned by your own perplexity. “There’s no man in my arms!” You’re not even sure why you’re treating this as if you’re giving it any sort of weight when Kaiser is clearly making stuff up for attention and a grand entrance.
“Yes there is. He’s right here.” With unnecessary aggression, Kaiser wrenches something out of your grip and then holds it up in the air, eyebrows furrowed like he just dug in trash instead of take a belonging of yours. With that belonging being the forty centimeter Michael Kaiser plushie you sleep with when he’s gone (its usual residence being the side of the closet he doesn’t use), filling the void on his side of the bed.
Yes, you’re crazy like that, but it’s besides the point. Not to mention you kind of forgot you were cuddling with it, since you were so preoccupied with Kaiser’s strange behavior and unexpected appearance back in the house.
After a moment your stupor wears off. “Are you serious?! You woke me up in the middle of the night to play some stupid joke on me?”
Kaiser smirks at you and lets out an evil and, might you add, effeminate giggle. Then he moves the plush back and forth in front of your face with an expression so smug, you feel a compulsive urge to punch him. “Look at him. His face is so smarmy and he’s just disgusting. Not to mention the way he stares at people is fucking creepy and perverted with that soulless smile. Even his eyes don’t sparkle. Unlike mine, of course.”
You let out a sound of frustration, you can’t hold it in. Why is Kaiser tormenting you with his merch design critiques at a time that can be considered both morning and late at night simultaneously? “Wh- he’s not sentient, how are his eyes supposed to sparkle? And why are you acting like he’s alive?”
Kaiser continues to smile at you. His expression remains smug and serene. It’s obvious he’s not guilty about waking you up at all. If anything he seems refreshed — maybe causing drama with such swiftness has a rejuvenating effect on him.
“Well, he’s modeled after you, anyway,” you say, bringing his attention to where the faults in the form may originate from.
“Honestly I don’t know how you can feel fine sleeping at night next to that thing and not scream in terror when you wake up to it staring at you in the morning,” snarks Kaiser, disregarding everything you brought up.
“Ugh, whatever.” You pluck Michael Kaiser the Stuffed… — animal? Human? No, stuffed human sounds unsettling. You need more rest. — back into your hold and roll over, pulling the blanket over yourself. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t interrupt me with any more of your bullshit.”
Taking satisfaction in making you unhappy, Kaiser snickers at your grumbling. You hear some rustling as he presumably changes, then he turns the light off and pads out of the room to wash his face and brush his teeth. You pray you’ll be able to doze off again.
Another weight joins you and the mattress dips under it while it moves behind you in an ominous manner. Kaiser settles down behind you and pulls you closer. You try to hold off, but end up giving in and turning around to reciprocate his embrace while he tucks you into his chest, Michael Kaiser the Stuffed Animal going forgotten and abandoned once you turn your back on him.
Normally, you would’ve ignored Kaiser and favored the plushie he detests so much over him just to spite him for his stunt, but you’re tired and his body is warm and inviting (not his personality though).
Kaiser moves his arm to reach behind you while you drift in and out of consciousness. There is some movement and then you hear a soft thump as if he smacked something off the bed and it landed on the floor after.
Once the enemy has been pushed out of the premises, Kaiser’s fingers find their way back to you.
___
Who up watching dandruff videos
ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, yukimiya kenyu, chigiri hyoma, baro shoei, oliver aiku and isagi yoichi (f!reader) [THATS A HUGE ROSTER LMAO]
— healthy relationships 'n healthy convos >:))))
genre(s). fluff!!!
cw. swearing; possibly triggering phrases or jokes (please dont hesitate to tell me if u spot any of these!!)
note. i love healthy relationships (thank you so much pinterest for the inspo)
tagging: @whatisnerotypical, @itoshivy, @lalaufey, @levihanmyotp (AYRA IDK IF U STILL WANNA GET TAGGED BUT IM TAGGING U ANW JS TELL ME IF DONT WANNA LUV U MWWAWMAWMAWM)
🐈⬛: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!
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© sheyfu on tumblr
turning your back on itoshi rin even just for a second is the biggest death wish you’ll ever have.
not because his intention is to kill you ( maybe it is, i don’t know ) but because when you turn back to look at him, he’s right behind you—standing tall and looking down at you like a mad man and it scares you so much you feel like you were one more heartbeat away from a heart attack.
especially by how little sound he made creeping up towards you, you didn’t know he was right there until you looked back. honestly, rin is just unnerving in general, from the fact you’ve never seen him cry—like at all—or the way he’s as stiff as a board whenever you try to hug him, or maybe it was because he downs horror related things like water.
. . . but right now, his unfazed expression is going to send you into the gutters of hell. if you could pick a super-power at this very moment, it would be the ability to slide passed these damn floors so you don’t have to deal with this.
“oh, rin . . ! when did you get here . . ?” you’re a nervous wreck who may or may not be sweating balls. “since you turned your back.” he says—okay so he’s been there for like 2 seconds at this point—is that humanely possible? unless he’s some kind of monster who runs a block per second. you slowly nod, looking at his bottom lashes instead of his eyes. “you look nervous.” he blurts out because you’re obviously unsettled—eyes shaky, voice shaky, oh and your body is shaking against his—it’s annoying him.
thanks, mr. obvious. does he really not get that sneaking up behind people is absolutely horrifying? is he trying to star in a horror movie?
this man is a walking jumpscare.
sticky note. hey ya’ll . . . will u be my kaisentines? 🥰
if there was one thing you could miss about kaiser it’s being able to run your fingers through his long messy hair. it’s the way the tips of your fingers occasionally bumped on his scalp, it’s the way your fingers might’ve gotten stuck on a knot that you’d have to use an actual brush on, it was the way he’d show up to training with little untied and half-finished braids that would eventually just . . . fall after every goal, maybe it was also the way kaiser said he hated it but didn’t punch you in the face.
“ness, can you braid that side?” you ask the man that’s on the opposite side of you. kaiser looks annoyed—sitting with his legs crossed while the both of you guys knelt at his sides to play with his long hair. “sure but we have practice soon,” he responds with a smile and kaiser groans at his very enthusiastic teammate.
that’s why when ness agreed to cut kaiser’s hair, you felt betrayed—devastated, even. “oh good graciousness, when did that happen?” you ask with a jaw that’s wide open as you stare at his new hairstyle, it’s hard to describe into words but it’s really . . . eye-catching, especially with the blue hair dye that mixes with his blond hair.
“wanted to get rid of it.”
you don’t play with his hair anymore, mostly because you basically have nothing to tug on anymore other than the two stupid rat tails he has to which you have twisted together at least once. your finger-combing agenda suddenly vanished and your fidget toy which was his hair was replaced by numerous hair-ties and bracelets.
not like he minded. he finally had his hair for himself without some person overtaking it with their hands and he didn’t have to bother himself with putting it up any longer.
nope, he was totally lying—he did mind. he minded that there were no more hands—your hands—getting tangled in his hair and the dull pain that came with it. he minded the way your fingers fiddled with those objects instead of his hair. he didn’t necessarily care about his hair, he cared about your hands in his hair.
he thinks you’re being real stubborn,
kaiser is fed up now. the man is crazy enough to grab your wrist in the middle of nowhere when you’re twisting a black hair-tie and bring it to his head (CRINGE EWWW). “what are you doing?” you’re as shocked as you were the day you saw his new hairstyle—by instinct, you try to remove the fingers that are caught up in his locks but his grip is deadly and unwilling to let go. “exactly what it looks like.” he’s saying it straight-faced without an inch of regret in his actions nor words. you roll your eyes at his insistence because all this time, you thought he hated when you threaded your fingers around his hair. “didn’t you say you didn’t like me doing it?” you question, fingers unwilling to move. “i’ll hate you even more if you don’t move.” he grumbles.
but he’ll fix that.
sticky note. lowkey me just mourning his hair . . . someone please tell me kaiser won’t break plsplsplslpls don’t do this to me i can’tican’tican’t omg no bring kaiser back kaiser comeback when pls don’t go back to germany pls make it up with ness plspslpslpslsplspsls don’t die plsplsplsplsplsplspls
Blue lock boys who are the BEST lovers ( I’m bias) Relationships with them { not proofread }
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Chigiri, hiori, reo, isagi, kurona
Chigiri is the definition of “best friend and partner” he’s rather open to you (having known for years) and also being the person who’s the best boyfriend you can could ask for.
The advice he gives is one of harsh criticism yet the most truthful, many would be surprised by how blunt he can be with you although it shows in how he cares and truly only wants the best for you. If opening your eyes with a hard truth will help then he will take that route.
Although of course, he isn’t heartless. He comforts you with a warm smile, heart beating at how attentive he becomes with you. Giving you the princess treatment one would die for. He knows comfort can differ in various ways, so he will always try and communicate on what you need.
I feel as though chigiri struggles with communication concerning his wants, so he tries to grow in order to be the best version of himself he can give you. Yet there will be moments where this can “problem” can arise and he will always realize his faults.
Other than that, his knack for his wellbeing swells into you as well. Hair is rather important for the guy, so when he comes to you with a grin about a new hair secret, expect a days worth of hair care. The two of you are seen as rather “gossipers” yet you two just find anything and everything interesting. Really, anything with chigiri can turn into an interesting conversation. Thus making him an amazing boyfriend and best friend in one<33 ( I could go on about him but I’ll save that for later)
SO UNDERRATED I LUV HIORI. Ugh he’s the sweetest I mean cmonnn…
With his already calm and polite demeanor, falling in love with him is that of a warm spring that flourishes into a bond greater than words can say.
A quick learner, can easily pick up your moods and will give it his all for you! Very much a giver and will cherish whatever you give him, hiori becomes emotional seeing how much you give to him, already viewing your love the best thing he could every ask for.
From his childhood, he was told he was loved, although feeling it would come and go. Yet when you come into the picture, it’s as if he experiences the feeling of being loved for the first time ever. His past one of hallow that now with you, it beams with hope and joy, making him the more doting on you with showing how much he truly cherishes what you have given to him.
The type of guy who would let you drag him anywhere, as his face is filled with adoration for you, soft smile evident as he lets your body take the lead as he follows you to no end. Out and about, would definitely rub your wrist gently before crossing the street whispering a faint “be careful” that causes your heart to race in seconds.
Can’t forgot how he would definitely, want you to game with him. Even if you don’t he finds a way for you to be near or engage with him. Whether that be you seated next to him or him lying across you, the peace hiori has in being close to you is infinite. A safe space he never wishes to let go of.
Seems squishy (don’t ask)
GREEN FLAG I REPEAT ULTIMATE GREEN FLAG. Might be bias but cmon it’s isagi
The boyfriend who literally will do ANYTHING you wish for (as long as it’s reasonable ofc) Follows you around like a lovesick puppy as he comments on places he thinks you would like or you two should go to. Will love to get stuff where it compliments the other, almost as if something that matches.
He once asked you what you were going to wear and showed up with a similar color combo, mind you he bought you two the same shoes for days where you want to match.
The kind of guy who will hold eye contact whenever you talk, even if you can’t hold it with him because of how intense his gaze is. He will continue looking at you as id you’re all he can stare at. How can someone make you flustered without anything at all?? That’s isagi for you
Isagi is someone you admire, someone you learn from even as you two grow in the relationship. His kind heart giving you the courage to try new things as he supports you all the way, words of encouragement making a hue of light shine in your life.
Overall, a loving caring guy who always has your back and a cutie
Bachira just like anyone has his…quirks. Although nothing severe to the point of destruction or hurting you. If anything he’s the most loyal and treats you with such care, fearing that one day you might perish or realize he’s not so called normal.
His insecurities one that you know from the beginning, tending the wounds he has held from years of the past. His reluctance to thank you with the best he can give you, his affection and loyalty to you one of scarce of losing you. He can’t fathom this, you with him. Together. So it’s only natural he wishes to show you what others cannot see.
There’s never a dull moment with him, his vibrant persona melting into you as you intoxicate in the newfound confidence he gives you. Bachira is the type to move you out of your comfort zone, making a break to see you in a new light that he’s lucky enough to see and be the cause for.
His affection spreads throughout every aspect, in public he resembles a dog that clings onto its owner that holds eyes filled with adoration.
His warm hands allowing for yours to bask in his warmth, feeling more as he squeezes yours and grins from ear to ear viewing your flushed expression. “There’s that face I adore oh so much!”
Eyes wander to your figure as bachira sees the shiver in your figure, cold winds swirling around causing you to feel the cold sensation of the winds. His embrace eternal, fitting like a puzzle as he snuggles up behind you swaying your bodies side to side. The norm would be teasing words, yet for now he embraces the delight with you in his arms.
Ah bachira
Cutest boy I mean cmon he has shark teeth
No matter the time being, kurona can’t fathom that you’re truly his, his mornings being filled with a lovesick smile at the thought of you.
His teeth hold many stories, the most memorable being how insecure he is because of them, smile showing less due to this fact. But the day you tell him to smile, hands on his cheeks as you gaze into his eyes, the crack in his lips breaking as he smiles at you softly.
It’s only natural for kurona to want to be the reasons for your smiles, indulging in what will make your smile come to fruition so he can also gift you with his smile.
His adoration for sharks weaves into you, no matter what he makes a correlation between you. Expect matching trinkets of any shark related item. Plushies that greet you in a pair that hold eachother, his lips spilling the words of “look, it’s us”
What may come to a surprise is his ability to make you swoon with his words, maybe not directly, but on paper. The reassurance kurona needs is spilled onto messages late at night, showing his vulnerability on text because he cannot bear with how you might respond. He knows you would comfort him, although he knows his heart will experience speed to limits unknown.
So when morning dew comes and you wake up with his messages, your heart grows fond seeing just how much the boy wants you to know, his heart is all yours and he wishes to hold it for the eternity to come.
a/n; MONTHSS of not posting anything…prob cause I’m almost out of school and have inspo
edit; guys I’m sorry reo wasn’t added my ass was just tired after writing for bachira😞