Hello,

surname? that IS your name, sir 🤨🤨

— 𝖿𝗍. 𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝖾, 𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗁𝗂 𝗋𝗂𝗇, 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗂 𝗁𝗒𝗈𝗆𝖺, 𝗆𝗂𝗄𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗈, 𝗇𝖺𝗀𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗈, 𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗂𝗄𝗎, 𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝗄𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗒𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗂 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗒𝖺 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝖺

— 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾

— 𝖼𝗐: 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀; 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌; 𝗈𝗈𝖼 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌?; 𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗂𝗄𝗎; 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗀

— 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝖲𝖮 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽 😭😭😭 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗂 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 2 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 😭😭😭 𝖠𝖭𝖸𝖶𝖠𝖸𝖲𝖲𝖲 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 <3 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 2!!; 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝗇’𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 :)) (𝖫𝖬𝖠𝖮𝖮𝖮 𝖨 𝖥𝖴𝖬𝖡𝖫𝖤𝖣 𝖱𝖨𝖭'𝖲 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖦𝖱𝖨’𝖲 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳𝖲 𝖲𝖮 𝖡𝖠𝖣 𝖨𝖬 𝖲𝖮 𝖲𝖮𝖱𝖱𝖸 𝖦𝖴𝖸𝖲 😭😭😭😭

gang i kinda lost the silly juice at the end 😭😭😭 BUT STILL, I HOPE THIS WAS ENJOYABLE FOR EVERYONE!!! thanks for reading and hope to see you soon! comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated <33

heads up . . ! not proofread.. 0.7k wrds!

you should be used to these midnight break-ins of shidou by now. he was your boyfriend after all and you didn't really tell him that he wasn't allowed to do it, you just gave him a reminder to text you if he were to do so. but him texting you meant giving you a heads up at least an hour before he was going to break in! though this attitude of your lover was something you were already familiar with..

now here he was, knocking on your bedroom window ever so quietly as to not wake up anyone else inside the house. you had just read the message he sent you three minutes ago and now he was already here, you knew he was fast in terms of running but to have walked that long from his place to yours in that small amount of time and without sweating seemed absolutely impossible??

"heyyyy baby!", shidou said in a low yet excited tone. he gives you a quick peck on the lip before going inside your bedroom. you looked obviously annoyed and he doesn't know why, he did give you a message before climbing up to the second floor of the house... "why'd you come here in such a short notice? you could've at least given me a bit of time to clean up and look good, you know!" you scold him to which he laughs and responds by giving you another quick peck on your forehead. "what were you doing here anyways? yer room's so messy..", he asks to which you just scoff and go back to your laptop, working on finishing this project of yours that was supposed to be due during christmas break, who even gives projects during christmas anyway??

it didn't even reach his usual three minute mark of bothering you before he pulled you out of your chair to a tight embrace on your bed, he seemed much more needy than last time but who you were to worry about that now? you were already working on something and here was your big baby of a boyfriend holding you in his arms as if it was a lifeline of his. "shidou! i'm literally working on the same project that i was doing when you barged here the last few times this week!", you remind him as you try to get off of him but really, your strength couldn't compare to his so it was useless. "okay okay, but do you reaaally need to be working on that now? ya could just do it the second i leave which would be in another hour or so!"

this was like a regular thing for him now, to give you a message five minutes before knocking on your window, then pulling you aside whatever you were working on after waiting at least three minutes, and then you'll just stay in his embrace the whole time he was there. that's how frequently these midnight break-ins occurred, you had memorized how long shidou took to send you a chat and to climb up to your bedroom. "how'd you even get here so quickly anyways.. it's at least a few kilometers from here to yours and you sent that message 3 minutes before already knocking at my window?" you ask, "well, i was already in front of your house when i sent it, just waited a bit before getting up here" he replied before giving you a kiss on your forehead. and before you knew it, you were already fast asleep on his chest, your project being long forgotten once again. even if shidou really wanted to hold you in his arms for as long as the night lasted, he was bound to be caught by your parents if he did. so once he knew that you were deep in your slumber, he laid you on your bed and put a blanket on top of you. but before he left, he needed to do one last thing.

when you woke up, you could've swore your bedroom did not look this.. clean? or unorganized? it looked like your boyfriend did a semi-good job of tidying it up, it still looked better than what it originally looked last night. you check your phone before seeing a message sent of 2:04 am — "heh.. cleaned ur room because im such a good boyfriend arent i??? make sure to gimme a kiss latr as a thank you gift ;)"

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

i need to write abt enemies to lovers with kaiser, but with him constantly leaning down, invading your personal space, and looking you straight in the eyes as he says the most infuriating things. but in his mind, he's flirting with you and convinced that you want him so bad.

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

babe! i saw a hottie on the field 🙏🙏

》 trying something new (again) with a silly chat au! (poopy resolution tho 😭😭) 》 ft. itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, mikage reo and nagi seishiro; kinda self-insert because this is how i type irl 😭😭; no specified gender but implied fem!reader in mikage's part but idc boys and men and the like can do their nails and hair 😍😍; kinda suggestive in shidou and kaiser's parts?!#?!; may be ooc 🙏🙏😓😓😓; cringe (i am ashamed yet proud of this one); timestamps aren't important!

as always, read for a banger 😓🙏

HIIII!! apologies for the bad resolution 😭 still trying to figure out these kinds of aus! nevertheless, i hope this was enjoyable for everyone!! thank you for reading and hope to see you again :)) reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!!

mother mother

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, and yukimiya kenyu (gn!reader but please tell me if theres ever the use of feminine terms cuh i ws envisioning a fem reader IM SO SORRY GANG 😓😓)

— ‘my mom wants to meet u’ or smth along the lines of that idk

genre(s). comedy because i think im funny

cw. oliver aiku isnt here so no cw!! (oliver girlies pelase dont come for me); NEVERMIND THERES SWEARING, oh and fem reader for reo’s part + the use of ‘yn’ + kidnapping rin but dw its not that bad; ooc (as always); kinda suggestive for reo's, yukimiya's and chigiri's; NO ACTUALLY FUCK THAT MENTIONS OF SEGGS IN CHIGIRI AND YUKKI'S PARTS HIUFHAFNDS 😓😓

note. xmas break but it doesnt feel very jolly 😓😓 BAD QUALITY BTW ERMMM CRYIN; planning to do a pt 2 w isagi, bachira, kurona and other ppl bc momma isagi and bachira are my biggest hear me outs sorry not sorry 😽😼 MY MERRY CHRISTMAS GIFT TO YOU ALL LMAOOOO

tagging: @whatisnerotypical, @itoshivy (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!

if you'd like to be part of my taglist, please access the gform below! thank you and hope to see you <3

Google Docs

𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘆𝗳𝘂'𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁! ₊˚ෆ

hello :D welcome to the google form for my taglist! rest assured, your emails will NOT be shared, and everything you put here will be for my

© sheyfu on tumblr

BF TEXTS W/ THE BLUE LOCK BOYS

ft. kaiser, nagi, isagi, sae, rin, and reo

warnings: suicide jokes (sae and kaiser), jokes about violence (isagi), reader being an instigator (isagi), kaiser backstory spoilers

kaiser, nagi, isagi

sae, rin, reo

think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

when they leave you—but don’t worry, they’ll come back.

ft; kaiser, sae, barou

part 2 - sae

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

“so, you’re going to Spain?”

the ice cream’s movement to sae’s lips stopped as he looked towards you. “yeah, i…who told you that? rin? or was it my parents?” sae placed the ice cream in between his lips again, eyes fixated on you.

“rin did, but I think your parents were planning on telling me asap. but…don’t you think it’s a little early? you’re 13. i get that you’re talented and all, but going to a whole other continent when you just turned into a teenager?” you asked. you stared at the ocean in front of you. “you can barely even solve long division, how are you going to survive there not knowing anything but soccer?”

sae raised his eyebrows, handing you an ice cream. “I’ll be living in the Real Madrid dorms. and I’ll try to call and text you as much as i can. it’s not that big of a deal; im sure that the players at Spain won’t be too much of a challenge. so just wait for me, alright?”

and how could you reject that glimmer in his eyes?

“alright.”

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

4 years later

“sae! you’re back!”

ignoring the suitcase he was dragging behind him, you jumped onto sae, arms wrapping around him tightly. finally, he was back. it would only be for a bit, yes, but back nonetheless. you looked back at his face, and you froze. “you…did you get any sleep? you have terrible circles under your eyes and you honestly just look so…exhausted.”

teal eyes looked into yours before looking away. “im fine. and its good to see you again. im surprised you actually came to pick you up, since finals are this week for Japan.” why was he so pale? and what the hell was he saying?

“of course I’d come pick you up, I haven’t seen my best friend in what, 4 years now? and what brought the sudden change to a midfielder?” you asked, taking his suitcase. his eyes flicked away.

“and why should I tell you.”

silence. “are you tired or something? did you get no sleep on the plane?” you asked. sae ignored you, only walking to the exit of the airport. you led him to your car begrudgingly.

after an excruciatingly silent ride to his house, sae finally decided to perform his first pleasant act of the evening.

“i missed you.”

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

OH MY BBY SAE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN SPAIN😭😫😢

“those stupid things are going to kill you.”

“then i’m going to die happy.”

rin scowls as he watches you hang upside down on the couch, stuffing your face with sour gummy worms. you’re not sure why he always does this every time you have an unhealthy snack, but you pay him no mind regardless. he’s the insane athlete, not you.

this song and dance is familiar to you, so you easily tug the bag away when he swiftly tries to reach for it and pry it from your grasp. a displeased huff leaves him and he grumbles, “i don’t know why you insist on putting that shit in your body.”

it’s clear he’s only like this because he cares about you and your health, but he also doesn’t understand you don’t need such strict restrictions on your diet the way he does. a love language for sure, but one that gets a bit lost in translation.

“my wiggly friends would never betray me, rinnie. one bag every so often is fine,” you say while slurping a worm like a noodle, making him grimace from the noise. sensing the conversation will go nowhere he simply grabs his soccer ball from his bag and heads outside to get some practice shots in.

he’s also positive you don’t see the small smile on his face when you call out for him to have fun and that you love him.

“i swear i bought more of them…” you mumble to yourself, rummaging through the snack cabinet in your shared kitchen.

(snacks that are almost exclusively bought by you apart from rin’s protein bars that have the taste and texture of cement. eugh.)

unsuccessful in your endeavors, you instead head up to the bedroom to ask rin if he did something with them. you don’t think he’d do something like throw them away behind your back out of pure respect for your choices as an adult, but he could’ve accidentally moved things without realizing.

you push open the door, asking, “rin, have you seen my -” his head whips around with wide eyes full of guilt as he haphazardly throws something across the room. from his mouth hangs a solitary string, red and blue and filled to the brim with sugar.

sour gummy worms. your sour gummy worms.

a shit eating grin is already on your face as he groans and tries to defend himself. he doesn’t really have an argument though, not when it was so obvious he was indulging in the very thing he ridiculed you for.

“i don’t fucking - i just wanted to see if they were worth killing yourself over,” he mutters through gritted teeth. there’s no point to even trying, rin quickly realizes as you close in on him.

you lose your mind laughing at him while his ears turn pink. he scoots over with a sigh so you can flop onto the bed, singing out, “rin loves gummy worrrrms!”

it’s so unbelievably annoying, but he finds that he doesn’t mind being the butt of the joke for a brief moment if it means seeing you so filled with joy.

plus, you’re too distracted to notice him grab another pack from his side table and shove a few more into his mouth. a win-win situation, he thinks.

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Wardrobe Malfunction

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 1.6k TYPE: Humor, Clothes Swap NOTE(S): For the purposes of this situation, reader is on the shorter side, and also because I feel like they have the evil of a short person in their soul. Also, same Y/n character as Dog Walking, but you don't need to read that to read this at all!

Despite whatever airs you put on, you like wearing your Bastard München uniform. Mostly because it makes you feel like a big shot professional, which appeals to your sense of self-importance.

You don’t think much of it when you slip on your shirt, but soon enough it becomes apparent to you that something is off. It feels wrong, too loose. And it’s falling down way lower than what you’re used to. You take a few seconds to scrutinize it in between owlish blinks, although the emboldened logo on the front doesn’t aid you in figuring out this mystery.

The easy way to check comes to you soon enough, and you lift your leg to see a traitorous ten in the corner of the shorts instead of your number. A look of horror takes over your face… No… You’re going to get Kaiser’s cooties. He is contaminating you with his germs.

You can already feel them loosening after the movement, and once you put your foot back down, they immediately slide off. With a huff, you grab them from the floor and resolve to strut up to the crux of your dilemma.

When you approach, Kaiser has his back on you, and you immediately notice the big eight, and the wrong name accompanying it. Ness is struggling to fit into the shirt he got, and while his jersey isn’t too ill-fitting on Kaiser, it’s too short, leaving him to fumble with the hem to try and hide the exposed part of his waist.

“It’s just like the pants, I can’t put it on,” Ness cries.

“What do you mean, you can’t put it on?” Kaiser asks before taking a handful of fabric and yanking down with too much force. “See, you can put it on just fine.”

“I can barely move! This is ridiculous-”

Oh, you see how it is now. Are they stupid, though? How have they been talking for so long without pinpointing the problem? You sneak behind Kaiser and reel in your arm before smacking him on the back with the shorts, exerting all of your might.

He lets out a grunt of pain you believe is overdramatized since it can’t have hurt that much, shoulders jerking up. “Whoever did that, I will fucking curb stomp y-” and then, after he whips around and sees you, the threat dies down on his tongue.

“Your dirty pants, sir,” you say in a fake fancy voice before throwing them at his face.

Kaiser flings them away on the bench, narrowing his eyes at you with this weird mix between taunting and adoring. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you. You’re so cute right now. Let me see.”

With this new positioning, Ness seems to finally realize what happened, too, because he says, “Wait, Kaiser, that’s… m-mine.”

Ignoring him, Kaiser steps around to examine you, and his ugly grin that you can’t stand grows even wider somehow when he reads his name. His name that’s on you because you’re wearing his jersey. “Holy shit.”

“You look like an imp.”

He disregards you with ease, too — you have to admit he’s good at this ‘only hearing what he wants to hear’ stuff — and opens his locker to rummage through it. Ness says, “You’re- you’re wearing Kaiser’s? That’s so unfair.”

“Yeah, and you’re wearing mine. Stand proud. You’re blessed. Millions would kill to be in your place. Everyone’s gonna wear this merch in the future, but you get the real thing.”

“You seriously live in la-la-land, it’s unbelievable.”

You spin your finger in the air, seeming way too pleased with yourself. “Do a little twirl for me, I wanna see how it looks on you all around.”

“I will NOT be doing that,” Ness denies with a huff. He’s so uptight when it comes to anyone who’s not Kaiser. Someone would’ve thought you have gangrene or that you asked him to clean roadkill off the street or something with the way he’s acting.

What Kaiser was searching for in such a rush turns out to have been his phone, you come to find out when he starts taking pictures of you without even a modicum of shame. Multiple of them, if the repetitive pressing he’s doing is indicative of anything.

“Don’t point your phone at me, you sick fuck,” you say, reaching out to cover the lens.

Your efforts go in vain, since he just lifts it up high where you can’t reach and continues. “No way. You’re just way too cute right now. I mean, shit.”

Mocking you aside, there’s this thinly-veiled wonder on his face, and it’s making you want to vomit because of course he’d be the type to get a kick out of stupid shit like this. He’s so fucking lucky, too, it’s pissing you off. Among the three of you, he’s the only one who’s kind of in presentable condition.

Once you come close to swatting the device out of his grasp with a jump, Kaiser presses his palm to your face and shoves you away, keeping you at an arm’s length. Then he diverts his attention to Ness, snapping photos of him now and laughing. “You look stupid as hell.”

“Nooo, Kaiser, don’t! Stop!” Ness says, red-faced, to absolutely no avail.

He even takes a few steps back and does a bad job of covering his stomach with his hands while inching towards the bench, which… he makes a genuine attempt at ducking under. This doesn’t deter Kaiser from continuing his paparazzi session or whatever it is that he’s doing, nor does it conceal Ness from view.

You detach your cheek from Kaiser’s hold and announce, “Don’t worry, Ness, I’m gonna save you from the vile pig,” before you take an unnecessary leap and stick your fingers where the shirt is riding up, tickling his sides.

This startles him enough to let go of his phone (the apparatus of evil), sending it flying. You at least have enough decency to catch it, since you’re not really above letting it shatter either. Then you start scrolling through it with the intention of deleting the photos.

It doesn’t take Kaiser long to recover from your attack, and when he does, he reaches out to you. You assume he’s just trying to get his phone, so you kind of twist around to try and prevent him from doing so, but what he does is much worse.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him before collapsing his stupid ass on the bench (which, at this point, has witnessed many horrors), leaving you to sit on his lap. Then — as if this isn’t offensive enough already — he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re such a touch-starved freak, it’s actually appalling.”

“You probably won’t look this good in your life ever again.” You roll your eyes at the stupid comment, and he starts tapping the screen along with you, and he even has the nerve to snicker. “I needed to be opportunistic.”

“Whatever, man.”

The weird battle results in a lot of random apps opening and closing, until eventually the gallery comes up on accident. With a feeling of triumph, you slap his hand away, so he won’t get in your way anymore. There you see the long string of pictures depicting Ness’s progression towards hiding under the bench, which, in your opinion, would make a great slideshow. Next are the images featuring you, where you’re looking up at him and struggling to even graze the phone, swiping your fists at thin air. Wow, you never thought you’d see your Great and Almighty Self from such a… pitiful perspective.

Before you can mope about how vertically challenged you are, however, something else catches your eye, and you burst out laughing, borderline dry-heaving from the acuteness of it. “What-”

Kaiser flusters and snatches his phone out of your fingers before pushing you up and away from him. This, for better or for worse, doesn’t wipe your memory or make you unsee the comically large amount of shirtless mirror selfies he has accumulated.

Despite your stumbling, you don’t fall. “How did you always manage to make the exact same pose and exact same expression in every single one of them?! Seriously. That’s spine-chilling.” You pretend to wipe a tear, even if it’s not that funny.

Kaiser doesn’t respond and turns around to toss his phone back to wherever he got it from. Ness — whose presence you kind of forgot about — deems it safe enough to stand up and reemerge. He asks, “What? What did you see?”

“His shrine of himself,” you say. “By the way, I think he’s a stripper.”

“I’m not a stripper,” argues Kaiser as if there was a possibility Ness might believe you.

For the first time, it’s Ness who is pretending Kaiser didn’t say anything. “Did you delete them?”

“No.”

He slumps, disheartened.

You make your way behind him. “Alright, let’s switch back,” you say, rolling up the material of your jersey. Surprisingly Ness accepts the help without any complaints and just accommodates you with a high raise of his hands.

You’re nearing the biggest problem area — his shoulders — when Kaiser deems it fit to intervene. “Ness, bend over. You’re taking too long.”

He does as told and Kaiser, for some godforsaken, idiotic reason, hooks his fingers inside of the collar. But you don’t see that since you’re trying to focus on your part, so instead you just comment on his willingness, “Slutty.”

“S-Shut up- Oh my god, don’t pull like that, what if it tears?!”

“It’s not going to tear.”

This exchange alarms you somewhat, so you shift your gaze to Kaiser, and what greets you is the sight of him tugging on the collar, trying to hoist it over Ness’s head. Your eye twitches. “If you damage mine, I’m gonna make good use of yours. Naturally what I mean by this is that I’ll use it as toilet paper.”

“It’s not going to tear,” repeats Kaiser, yanking harder. Apparently your collective lack of faith in him is vexing him.

… You hear a rip.

___

Happy valentine's day (I wrote this yesterday i was with my boyfriend today lol. He's american so he thinks valentine's day is a real holiday)