Ink My Promises Onto Your Skin

“Ink my promises onto your skin” ♡

-jujutsu kaisen tattoo shop au! x gn! reader

|| You decide to get your first tattoo today. As nervous as you were, the presence of the extremely attractive tattoo artists quickly dispersed your anxiety

pairing : megumi fushiguro, geto suguru, gojo satoru, maki zenin, inumaki toge, yuuta okkotsu x gn! reader

genre : fluff, suggestive-ish on gojo’s part

tw/note : mention of needles and blood, i wanted to make this au bc it was fun, i don’t know much about tattoos but i tried my best, if i missed anything, please inform me

words : 2.5k

You reluctantly opened the glass doors to the sketchiest looking shop you’ve ever entered. Your friends decided to dare you to get your first tattoo, which is why you were here. Of course, you were against the idea, but after looking at several cute designs and staring at the ones your friends had..getting one shouldn’t be too bad right? Minus the sharp pain of the needles and possible skin diseases you’d contract, at least your body would have cute little designs on it so you could end in style.

“No..I can’t do this—“ You turned your heel to back away when the chime of the doors made you freeze. “Are you coming in?” A monotone voice of a male rang into your ears as you looked back. Damn he was pretty. Now that the door was opened, you could see a bunch of people inside curiously peeking outside the door right at you. ‘Don’t they have anything better to do??’ You thought. Well you couldn’t just leave now can’t you. And that was the story on how you became entranced to receiving your first tattoo.

Megumi Fushiguro || Tired receptionist

You read the plastic name tag on the man who called out to you. “Megumi Fushiguro” it said in bold letters. He stared at you dully, as if wondering if you were just going to stand outside and waste their precious time and air conditioning. “If you are making an appointment, come in” Was all he said before opening the door a little further. Well now saying “no, I’m sorry” would just be an embarrassment to you. So with no other choice left, you slowly dragged your feet inside to confirm your reservation.

The receptionist- or Megumi as he calls himself, looks through the files with a calm and unbothered feel to him. You noticed he had a soft looking face, sharp eyes and eyelashes no extensions could replicate. Dream man for real. Despite working in a tattoo parlor, he wasn’t how you expected him to be. He barely had any markings on his skin besides a small design on his inner wrist. It was..two small dogs? You stifled a laugh when he raised his arm to stretch because how could such an intimidating looking man have such an adorable tattoo? This obviously caught Megumi’s attention.

He was unimpressed by how you laughed. “Ah no- I just thought your dog tattoos are cute! Do you own some?” You smiled awkwardly. Megumi nodded as he signed you in, motioning his one free hand to the two dogs huddled in the corner. Your sudden fixation on them had him looking up from his screen, observing how your gaze became sparkles and your body basically begging to hug those bundles of fur. Oh yeah this man was distracted. Usually people didn’t care when he mentioned his dogs, he was glad someone showed some appreciation for them.

“First tattoo?” He asked, to which you sheepishly nodded. Megumi didn’t utter another word before he stood up from his chair to lead you to the back area where there were a few tattoo artists waiting with their equipment. Before heading back, you heard him mutter something with a small blush you could see if you look close and squint

“If you’re nervous, I could call my dogs over for you. They make great company and..I could be too”

Geto Suguru || Your assigned tattoo artist

Well hello hottie. Was what your mind immediately thought when your eyes set on the gorgeous man who was simply disinfecting his tools. He had long black hair tied in a man bun, some strands falling on his face that were equally as attractive as his physique. Sleeveless shirt which revealed his tattoo sleeve and neck tattoo. The mysterious man who’d been silent all this time, smiled warmly at you when you were (embarrassingly) caught staring.

“Call me Geto, I’m your artist for today” He patted the open seat to welcome you. You didn’t know what it was but you walked to that seat like your life depended on it. Geto was cautious in preparing everything, making sure that the items were all set. Despite having an intimidating exterior, his hands were gentle, especially with how he handled anything fragile. “Don’t be scared, it may pinch though” He tried to reassure you, but your clammy hands and that large needle he held was not making anything better.

“What design would you like?” He asked and you showed him a simple design and he grinned, muttering a small “cute” under his breath. Your heart did flips inside but you did your best to conceal it. Diligently, the man started to draw sketches on your arm where you mentioned you wanted the tattoo to be. His large, slightly callused hands wrapped around your arm in a firm grip to keep him from making any imperfections. No, your nervous shaking did not help. Could you be blamed ?? This hot as hell man was inches away from your face with his arm holding you tightly.

He pulled away after the sketch was completed, switching over to his needle. Your slight flinch didn’t escape his notice. He leaned closer whilst using the fact he was using rubbing alcohol on you as an excuse to brush his lips against the shell of your ear

“Calm yourself down, my darling, we wouldn’t want any imperfections on your body, now would we?”

Gojo Satoru || Wishes he was your tattoo artist

From the second you entered, there was a strong feeling that there were eyes on you. Your suspicions were confirmed when for a split second, your eyes locked with the blue ones hiding behind a set of sunglasses despite being indoors. You were curious but Megumi was already leading you to get your tattoo done. You could have sworn there was a visible pout on the mystery man’s face when you were assigned to Geto instead of him.

“Ah~ Suguru, why don’t you give this one to me hm? You’ve been busy all day, no?” He lazily made large steps towards you on the chair, pulling on a random stool to sit on. “Gojo Satoru, or ‘the love of your life’ to you, angel” He smiled sweetly, holding out his inked hands for a handshake, as if there were no intentions behind that facade. You simply quirked a brow at his attempts, clearly unamused to which Geto laughed whilst sketching the designs onto your skin. “Trying to get into another pair of pants, Satoru? Nice try” Geto smirked at your plain reaction.

“Awh..But you’re too pretty to be with someone like him” The man who went by Gojo snarled. You wanted to laugh- wait, what happened to all that pressure? For some reason you were calmer than before, a little agitated at the flirting instead of scared. Was that an intention of his? Gojo stayed there for the majority of the preparation process, lazily looking at you and his friend. “Sure you don’t want me instead, doll?” He pouted and you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe next time” You muttered, but Gojo heard and he would be using it against you. He stood up, lowered his sunglasses and winked. The man could have just stolen your heart along with that. You tried acting uninterested but we all know you were having a field day in there.

“Next time? Looking forward to our time together. Don’t keep me waiting, doll”

Maki Zenin || Very stressed manager

“Satoru, stop bothering our guests”

A sharp voice was heard which made you look over. A young woman stood with a pen between her fingers and a sleeveless black turtleneck that made her a sight to behold. The outfit revealed her shoulder tattoo that seemed to stretch to her back. “Get back to your post” She warned and surprisingly, Gojo stood up with his hands in the air to show his defeat. Wow. You never thought that that man would listen to anyone but himself. Thank goodness for your taste in women you were slightly afraid of because damn this woman was fine. Her eyes landed on you through her glasses “Sorry about that” she apologized while taking out her clipboard.

At this point, Geto was slowly making the design onto your skin, but you couldn’t focus on the pain at all. Maki noticed your stares on her and curled a brow in curiosity “Is there anything you need?” She strides to your seat, leaning down to check on you. Another intimidating figure that turned out to be very caring. Or maybe this was just customer service. Either way, you couldn’t care less about the pain when this beautiful woman is there. But you could only do so much.

The needle inched deeper into your skin and you yelped. Maki was surprised but quietly laughed. This must be your first time, she thought. Amused, she placed down her clipboard and looked at you. “It isn’t that bad after a while” She reassured before looking at your tattoo artist. “Oi, be careful with them” She almost hit him but stopped herself. Maki couldn’t lie, that yelp you let out was quite cute. Maki couldn’t stay long, but she wanted you to relax. And so, she handed you a small stuffed toy that she gave a few patrons to hold onto when they are scared.

“I have to go, but I hope you enjoy your time” She took her items in her hand and bowed before sending you a small wink before turning her back. You turned your head to the side before you checked the stuffed toy including..a number card? Wait- wait..

This time you let out another yelp, just not from pain

“I have to leave, but I have a feeling that we’d meet again soon. Don’t avoid me when that happens.”

Inumaki Toge || Professional heart warmer

In the back of the room, a young man sat with his legs crossed on a stool with his hands busy playing some games. He had white hair and a black mask on. You were curious as to why he had no visible tattoos, despite all his co-workers having some. He paid no attention to you at all during the first few moments, but when he caught onto how nervous you were after Maki left you with a simple stress toy, he felt like he had to step in. What kind of manager leaves a frightened customer with a simple toy?

Inumaki didn’t speak a word, he didn’t even introduce his name so you had to catch on with solely his name tag. He pointed at his screen and showed a bunch of videos to you. Inumaki’s screen displayed plenty of comedy/prank videos that made you erupt in laughter despite the needle sinking into your skin. Yes, everyone in that parlor were jealous of how Inumaki was doing a better job at comforting you than any of them did. And he didn’t need to flirt, offer you anything or wink his way into your heart.

It was like he was always there. Turns out Inumaki is very much a playful person, making little jokes and making you more at ease just with some videos. Though, you wondered why he didn’t speak. Was it a medical condition? Or simply a preference? You couldn’t tell nor did you feel like asking in case it was a sensitive question. You let out another yelp, tears pricking the corners of your eyes this time. As time went by, your skin became more and more sensitive to the needle than it was before.

Inumaki was startled by your wet eyes, hands sputtering to try and think of something that would help. He tried videos, jokes, nothing worked. He held your hand as he noticed you shaking, warning you that you shouldn’t be moving so much with an ink needle inside you but you didn’t seem to catch on with just the grab. And so, Inumaki pulled down his mask to reveal those hidden tattoos that stretched across his lips in abstract shapes, leaning down and whispered in your ear to get the message across

“Don’t move”

Yuuta Okkotsu || Post-tattoo emotional support

After your tattoo was over, you breathed out a sigh of relief. After your arm was done, another man took Geto’s place. He was relatively younger and had a terrifying aura to him..that is, if he didn’t immediately let out the brightest smile ever when he greeted you. “Hi! I’m Okkotsu Yuuta. I’ll be cleaning your wound for a while so let’s get along well” He grinned. He was like the scariest golden retriever alive, if that made any sense. It was the best way to word him.

Yuuta had a relatively simple tattoo that stretched across his arm. It was quite colorful in contrast to most commonly used colors such as black. “It must’ve hurt huh?” He strikes up some conversation while cleaning up your wound with care, it was as if he held you like porcelain. You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to be so gentle but you held your tongue from how focused he was on making sure you experienced as little pain as possible from the cleaning process. Deciding to engage in his questions, you two struck up a nice talk together.

He made some funny sentences that made you smile even though he wasn’t sure what he did 90% of the time, blinking confused on why that entertained you. “Oh and there was a time I almost swallowed a needle- I knew with that along with my hearty meal from earlier, that my trip to the bathroom would not be pleasant” Cue your laughter. He blinked a few times at why that was hilarious but enjoyed the fact he had you forgetting about your fresh tattoo he was taking care of.

“Your design is pretty” He muttered subconsciously, looking at how it suited you so well. You asked him about his tattoo, and he explained that it meant how he should focus on what lies ahead instead of being caught up with the past. “Do you have something that you’d like to forget?” Yuuta just nodded at your question with a warm smile. You couldn’t help but want to help him take his mind off any unpleasant memories he had.

“People told me I’d find someone to help me recover. Would it be silly if I said I feel that someone was with me right now?”

—

note : couldn’t fit more pictures 🥲 but anyways geto tattoo artist au has been roaming my mind recently so i just had to make it into a fic with other characters. also my maki brainrot is inevitable <3

Michael Kaiser — Mean

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.4k TYPE: Fake dating, This is not fluff or angst but a secret third thing (with a cheerful ending) WARNING(S): Depersonalization/identity issues

The first time you meet Michael Kaiser, you get a bad impression.

Yeah, sure, he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation, anyway. You’ve met all sorts of unpleasant people in your life and he manages to disappoint even when the bar is so low, the only way to go lower is through digging.

You don’t exchange a word with him, but rather you have the misfortune of having to listen to him talk throughout the entire meeting. He starts countless arguments, some valid to an extent. You can tell he’s just doing this because he’s addicted to the sound of his voice and speaking to people like they’re unimportant specks of dust all while commanding their attention. There’s no point to his fussing either because he ends up signing the same contract you do.

Waste of your goddamn time — he might as well have not signed it and saved you the trouble, since the ordeal ends up lasting three hours because of him.

Maybe you should’ve not signed it yourself, but your PR manager was salivating at the idea of fake dating as a publicity stunt, especially with Kaiser who’ll be posing with you for a photoshoot in a few months, so you said ‘whatever’ and here you are. In this predicament with an insufferable man you imagine you won’t get along with, which already predisposes you to never giving him a chance.

___

The first time you speak to Michael Kaiser, you unsettle him.

It’s unlike him to feel disturbed, let alone at the slightest thing. He’s met all sorts of sickos, so he considers himself unflinching in the face of anyone who has anything off about them.

But he’s fifteen minutes late to the ‘date’ you’re supposed to use as a tool to subtly launch your fake relationship and he’s expecting a scolding. Kaiser spots you and heads in your direction, taking the seat in front with a shitty smirk and an ingenuine, half-assed apology on his lips.

What he gets in response is a blank look — almost… unimpressed, which naturally someone like Kaiser takes as a challenge and already sets the tone for the rest of the conversation — and it’s as if you’re staring into his soul. Then in an instant your expression flips to convincing joy, your warm smile contrasting his snide one, and you say, “Let’s act like we’re really stoked.”

A chill runs down his spine. On a logical level Kaiser knows you’re faking it, but it looks real, and that’s what he finds freaky. Also, the speed.

“Let’s not,” he says. “You’re weird,” he adds after you don’t respond.

You don’t react to this information either and settle for maintaining your smile.

The barista decides to spare him from having to look at you while you don’t say anything. He’s pretty sure you’re doing this deliberately, to torture him. When you attempt to order something, he talks over you and asks, “Can you give us one of those shitty milkshakes with two straws in them?”

She stares at him in bewilderment. “We don’t sell those,” she says eventually.

“Can you make one?”

“No…”

“You’re scum,” you tell him, dropping the happy facade. Again, the quickness strikes Kaiser as disturbing. Then you give her a valid order, and he asks for water since they offer that everywhere and he can’t be bothered to read the menu. After the barista leaves, you say, “I could have lactose intolerance.”

“You could. I could be trying to kill you.”

“I don’t know if a milkshake would be enough to kill me.”

“Maybe I was trying to give you a stomach ache,” he concurs.

You don’t dignify that with a reply either.

Kaiser tries to speak with you again, “I really fucking hate milk.”

“Then why’d you do that?”

“To embarrass you, of course,” he says, like he’s revealed to you the natural order of things.

“Hm.” You consider this new information. “I’ll definitely think of a way to get back at you.”

The lukewarm threat seems to amuse him more than anything.

Then you proceed to have a hostile few hours together in public as instructed. You end up throwing napkins at his face.

Kaiser isn’t good at pretending to be in love. The only such image he seems capable of projecting is one of a middle schooler who’s failing to find a balance between playful and mean. Though it also doesn’t matter to you because you mostly teeter on the edge of mean, slightly left of apathetic. Nothing really matters to you.

___

For your second court-ordered date with Michael Kaiser, your manager tells you to get caught holding hands with him at a park after the cafe meeting doesn’t spark much controversy. The notion itself has you scrunching your face, but you don’t complain about it or voice your opinion.

Again, he’s late picking you up by a not negligent amount of time, leaving you to stand in front of your building, motionless and impatient.

Instead of announcing his presence in a more acceptable manner, Kaiser blares the car horn until you realize it’s him. After you crawl inside the passenger seat, you turn to look at him and see that he looks very pleased with himself. It’s obnoxious.

“I hope we die in a car crash,” you greet.

“We won’t.” You don’t know why, but his brain interprets this as an opportunity to brag. “I’m an excellent driver.”

He’s not. Somehow you make it to the park without getting into a catastrophe — which, as established, you wouldn’t have minded.

You exit at the same time and Kaiser frowns at you by the time he circles his way around to you. You don’t care enough about what’s bothering him to raise a questioning eyebrow let alone ask, but he tells you, “I was going to open the door for you and then offer to help you up. You ruined everything!”

You roll your eyes. “How gallant.”

“Get back in,” Kaiser says, pointing (as if the gesture will be enough to convince you to play along). “Let’s redo it.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I have a vision for these kinds of things, that’s all.”

“Your vision is trashy and uninspired,” you reject promptly.

Kaiser seems to be the first person in the world who finds your attitude funny rather than objectionable because he grins at your response. But he’s more so looking at you like you’re a bug he finds fascinating in comparison to the rest, without any real respect or acknowledgement. 

“I admit maybe it was a bit cliche,” he says. “Would’ve made me look good, though, if someone caught it on camera.”

You smile that ghoulish smile again and grab his hand like you were told. His fingers are cold and yours even more so, making the grasp clammy and uncomfortable while you begin your stroll. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to talk about with him. Soon enough, you scowl, both the silence and the sensation of getting touched proving too much for you to hide your displeasure, even though Kaiser seems content with letting the silence fester.

“Oh? Why’d you stop? I’ve started enjoying your creepy masquerading.”

“I’m disgusted,” you say.

“Disgusted,” he repeats. “By what? Me?”

“It’s making me sick. Who knows where your hand’s been or what you’ve done.”

Albeit visibly offended for the first time if the lack of an annoying smirk is anything to draw judgments from, Kaiser drops it first. Your arm hangs by your side again, limp.

“Let go, then. Or do I need to do everything myself?” That’s quite a dramatic sentiment coming from a man who has done nothing all day besides a short drive and taking a few steps.

“But my manager said-”

“Who cares? I think my manager’s lucky I agreed to this bullshit in the first place,” Kaiser says. “By the way, my hands haven’t been in any sewers or anything to warrant this reaction, thank you very much.” He must be the type of person who only ever says thank you as if being grateful is some big joke.

“I’m not being literal. I know who you are and what people say about you. My disgust is conceptual.”

“Flattering.” Kaiser’s pleased again with the mention of this tidbit, like the mental image he’s getting of you searching him up gives him immeasurable amounts of satisfaction. One thing you’ve come to notice about him since your last outing is that he’s shameless. “You’re not special, though. Lots of people know who I am.”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re scum.”

“Do you usually talk to people you barely know in this way or is it preferential treatment? I’d love preferential treatment, but the other option is amusing too.”

“Usually,” you say in a monotone. “That’s why I don’t speak much. More so supposed to be looked at rather than heard, and so on.” You finish off your explanation with a flippant gesture. That’s what it’s like for you — ‘shut your trap, it ruins your appeal.’

“Well, I-” there’s an emphasis on the word ‘I’ because Kaiser always thinks his opinion matters, “-think your worldview is pathetic and embarrassing. What’s the point of being looked at if no one will listen to you? How can you be fine with that?”

Fair point. You concede in your head, but don’t commit to agreeing with him out loud. “You’re not special either. Most people gross me out.”

“You hurt me this time.” He’s sneering, though.

After a while of walking, you find yourself sitting on a bench next to him. A few pigeons strut around near your feet, bobbing their heads back and forth, almost catching a groove. “If I had any bread, I’d feed them.”

“I’m not surprised you’d feel interested in such a commoner’s activity,” Kaiser says, as if he is somehow superior to you for not wanting to participate in this.

“Vile,” you say, voice still neutral. You’re not looking at him either, attention glued to the birds.

He doesn’t know which part of it you find dismaying — was it the class shaming or what? “So you like pigeons, but you hate humanity. You’re one of those.”

“I don’t hate humanity,” you say. “But nature is repulsive by default. It’s not amoral. When we’re cruel and ugly, that’s a conscious and opportunistic decision. Every day CEOs throw their employees and workers under the bus for more profits. Someone’s getting murdered as we speak. We’re faking a relationship to attract brand deals. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”

“Get a hobby instead of thinking about stupid shit like that. Caring about how ugly and bleak everything is won’t get you anywhere,” Kaiser… advises.

“Look at the pigeons.” You’re watching the one with the missing claws, wobbling and struggling to get around. “Humans domesticated them and then abandoned them. I love flora and fauna. They’re interesting and exist much more differently than we do.”

“Does that mean you like my tattoo then?”

“Not everything needs to be about you. It’s not like people will forget you exist when you don’t force yourself to be at the center of conversation.”

This stings him the tiniest bit. Either you’re probing into an insecurity or he’s reading too deep into what you’re gathering from your conversations with him. “If I wanted to have a pseudointellectual conversation, I wouldn’t ask a vapid model to psychoanalyze me.”

“Your opinions are unoriginal and stereotyped just like your ideas about romance,” you say, finally turning around to face him again with those haunted eyes. He’s unamused now, clenching his jaw and all. “A stupid athlete wouldn’t be my first choice for a ‘pseudointellectual conversation’ either.”

“You look down on others and judge them, so what makes you so different from all those ‘scum’ you hate? How are you exempt from your own standards?”

Do you realize you’re displaying similar behaviors to those you’re scolding him over?

“Well, there’s a simple explanation for that,” you say. Kaiser is expecting an argument or something, but you kind of floor him with your follow-up. “It’s called hypocrisy. I’m probably just as disgusting as the average person.”

“Your life must be miserable if you look at everything through this lens. What was the phrase, rose colored glasses? Yours must have shit smeared over them.”

You shrug then make a 50/50 motion with your hand. “My life’s neither good nor bad. I’m indifferent on the subject.”

“Uh huh.” Kaiser considers this, then his lips twitch up, and then his smile broadens — it’s snide and smug again, and you come to the realization that he probably doesn’t know how to smile in any other way — before he inches a little closer to you. Not enough to brush against you, but enough to count as an attempted provocation. “I think people like you shouldn’t be considered alive. Legally speaking. And if we’re being figurative, you’re obviously already dead.”

You frown at him, since he’s kind of right. The fact that Michael Kaiser has the capability to discern truths you don’t want to hear rubs you the wrong way.

“Speaking of birds,” you start, deciding to change the topic, “you remind me of a peacock.”

“Wrong.” He’s pouty now. You find the expression cute, but when you catch the thought you throw up in your mouth a bit, so you ignore it. “I’m clearly a swan.”

“The fact that you have a preference when it comes to what animal you’re considered is sad.”

“And you’re entertaining. Let’s hang out again soon even if those sorry fucks don’t suggest it.”

You find it bewildering how he calls his PR manager’s input a ‘suggestion’ and seems to think he can do whatever he wants. Which, maybe he does, seeing the way he conducts himself. You’re also tempted to tell him to make up his mind on whether he enjoys your company or not, but there are more important matters right now. “We’re not supposed to do that, I don’t think.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Why this desire all of a sudden?”

“It’s what I want.” What impeccable reasoning. “I think I can make you enjoy yourself,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. Not for your merit or anything stupid.” Kaiser offers what you’d describe as a flamboyant hand wave in the air, demeanor laced with complacency. “I think it’d make me feel really charitable and generous if I can manage to add something to your depressing life. Give me a chance to try.”

“Word of advice,” you scoot away from him to the point the edge of the bench is digging into your ass and it honestly hurts, “you’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude. How you phrased it disgusted me again.”

Kaiser finds your favored terms interesting. Everything is sickening and disgusting and vile and scummy from your perspective. Deep down for reasons he doesn’t want to ponder, he can relate.

“Great. You’ll come around soon,” he promises, with the confidence of someone who thinks this is a game he has a high chance of winning.

___

Kaiser makes it a point to inflict his presence onto you as much as he can afford to with your schedules, even though there’s no need for it. Not that you refuse him either. He’s kind of interesting to keep around, in his own Kaiser-ish way.

Earlier today he invited himself over to your house. He’d decided you need to come up with a story about your ‘relationship,’ but didn’t wanna discuss it through text messages. Apparently he has an interview coming up and wants to be prepared in case they ask him about you.

“How did we meet?” you ask, sitting on the other side of the couch and leaning against the armrest, away from him.

The answer is immediate: “I saved you from a burning church.”

You question what other fantasies this man could probably have because that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. Your voice somehow remains flat despite the bewilderment when you ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s flashy and dramatic.”

“But if anyone searches it up, they’ll see there haven’t been any… burned churches?”

“You’re such a killjoy.” Kaiser sighs. “It makes it sound mystical.”

“No it doesn’t,” you say, rather flippant about the entire thing. “It makes you sound like a pathological liar.”

“I like your sense of humor.”

“Thanks, but I’m not kidding about this.”

“Then what do you think it should be?” Kaiser asks. Obviously the purpose of this inquiry is to criticize your choice of scenario — even you can anticipate such a predictable move.

You roll your eyes and then look away from him in contemplation. You hadn’t really thought about it, since you don’t do interviews, and therefore you don’t need to concern yourself with hypotheticals on the matter. “Some kind of party, maybe. Post-match celebration?”

“Makes sense,” says Kaiser. “Doesn’t compel me, though. Boring.”

With a hum, you try to imagine what would both appeal to Kaiser and sound realistic. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s swayed by practicality. “I went with someone else, but you swept me off my feet so hard, you stole me away from them.”

“I guess it sounds plausible enough while still having an element of fantasy.”

“Is the idea of me liking you the ‘element of fantasy’?”

“Yeah… That’s why I want it.”

You didn’t expect such a response. It has you looking at him weird. You do so often anyway, but now you do it for longer as if trying to glean something. In response Kaiser tells you to take a picture since it’ll last longer. The reply seems extraneous and distracting, and that only makes you feel more suspicious of him, which is weird since you’re not sure what you’re even inferring.

___

Officially it’s your fifth date with Kaiser, unofficially it’s the tenth. This time you’re holding up a frog in your open hands.

He doesn’t know what the point of all the nature-themed outings is — maybe to make him seem down to Earth in the public eye since he’s become notorious for how insufferable he is? Either way he doesn’t care, and he’s not the type to wander at landscapes, but your affinity for ugly animals is kind of cute.

The frog isn’t some special one either. No crazy colors or anything, just a regular green tree frog (according to your expertise). You let it jump onto your palms, since apparently touching their skin is bad for them or something. Kaiser scrutinizes it in distaste, staring down into its big eyes while it croaks. “So you can handle a disgusting amphibian, but you can’t hold hands with me.”

“I see you’re still thinking about that.”

“Well, it was insulting. And besides, it’s never happened to me before.”

“You’re not so bad. I don’t think I’d vomit if we brushed against each other anymore.”

Kaiser seems curious but nonetheless pleased with this development. “Why the change of heart?”

“Because you listen to what I say,” you tell him.

He somehow resists the urge to piss himself laughing at the sound of that. “Your standards are so low. It’s so sad that it’s funny,” he says. Maybe he would’ve dedicated some more time to teasing you over it, but he comes to a realization which immediately lifts his mood. This must mean he’s in your good graces somewhat, and not many people seem to fit there, so that makes Kaiser special to a degree. Right?

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

“Who would’ve thought someone who looks the way you do would come out like this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think you were one of those kids who, like, shoved sticks and leaves in mud and called it a potion.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean now?”

Kaiser lets out an annoyed sound, tired of elaborating. “It means I think you’re strange.”

“Hmm, I bet you do,” you say. “There’s a quote I like: ‘It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.’”

“Yeah, and I bet that’s the kind of message you love. What’s it from?”

“Interesting story,” you say. “This is Jiddu Krishnamurti’s most famous quote, but it doesn’t appear in any of his books. Allegedly he said it to some other guy.”

Kaiser blinks and nods, maybe trying to keep a pretense of having the slightest concept of what you’re on about. “Whatever, got it. I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Maybe I’ll check him out.”

“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in that type of thing,” you say, staring at him as if you’re trying to figure him out.

“Actually, I am. Can you stop taking every chance to insult me?”

“I’m not. At least not on purpose… So, what are your hobbies, anyway? You never told me.”

“I practice. What do you take me for?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “That’s it?”

Kaiser opens his mouth to justify himself even though there’s no need to be defensive — maybe it’s that he feels like he’s lacking in some department after you bring your attention to it with your little response and generally Kaiser hates to be insufficient. But before he can argue and try and talk himself out of whatever perception you have of him now, an interruption happens.

The frog, which had been lazy and content with merely existing in your grasp, springs without any warning. It leaps out of your fingers and lands on top of Kaiser’s head.

Today you learn Michael Kaiser screams at an ear-shattering frequency when he’s startled. Soap opera level of shock and overreaction.

___

It is when you’re eating at a trashy place for lunch that Kaiser’s looking at his phone, which you find rude since you’re supposed to be spending time together and whatnot. He eats like a pig, too, not graceful at all — you wonder what his fans would think if they saw him with crumbs over his mouth and sauce on his chin. Good material for a public embarrassment campaign, you think.

But it’s in that moment that he finally wipes himself with a tissue and reaches out to all but shove his phone in your face. “Look, we’re so hot!”

You grace the picture with a dismissive glance before looking back down at your meal, disinterested. You already know enough about Kaiser to assume he’d get a kick out of power couple fantasies. And other power fantasies. Really, you find it pathetic.

It was something out of the photoshoot he was showing you, his favorite you presume. Even someone like Kaiser, who has conventional features, isn’t perfect when it comes to these unreasonable standards. He’d been way too stiff next to you while he posed and though his face is symmetrical, his expressions tend to stray to one side, and obviously it’d been corrected.

There’s a mismatch between you on the covers and your image in the mirror. Maybe your brain is exaggerating the disconnect, but every time you see them, it’s like staring into an airbrushed, distorted amalgamation. In other words, you prefer avoiding both the edited products and your reflection whenever you can.

“We don’t look like that,” you say, offhand about his enthusiasm as you are with most things.

Kaiser scoffs and then very blatantly tries to compare between whatever version of you he has on his phone and the you in front of him. There’s not a single good thing you can say about his decision — it’s making your skin crawl just knowing it’s what he’s doing.

“Close enough,” he deems after careful examination.

“I don’t think it’s me.”

“It’s quite literally you.”

“I don’t think anything is me. Like I’m just what I see. My perspective, my point of view. You get what I’m saying?”

“No?” Kaiser says, laughing at you and your apparently strange affliction.

“Well if not that, you have to admit things captured on camera aren’t real.”

“What are you talking about,” Kaiser asks in a flat tone, which leaves it as something less than a question. A few more snickers escape him and he’s grinning at you like a bastard — if at first he regarded you as a slightly more fascinating bug than the rest, by now you must be his favorite, the rarest… A tree lobster. “You make no sense.”

“It totally makes sense. Imagine we’re having sex-”

“What kind of stupid come-on is that?”

“It’s not a come-on, I’m explaining. So, imagine we’re having sex-”

“In what position?”

“Whatever you want as long as it works for the scenario. Anyway, imagine we’re having sex-”

Kaiser laughs harder and then attempts some seductive sort of expression which doesn’t land with you. “I’m imagining it,” he informs.

“Shut up and let me get to the point. Imagine we’re having sex and I’m recording it-”

“Wow, I didn’t take you for such a pervert? Not that I hate it.”

“-so I’m looking at you through the camera lens. The phone’s between us. I’m not, like, in the moment with you. My mind’s absent, it’s all digital. So if you think about it we’re not even really having sex.”

“... You’re losing me even more,” Kaiser says after some contemplation, finding the fantasy unpleasant all of a sudden with this new spin to it. A moment passes during which he takes another big, possibly exaggerated bite, but he at least has enough decency to chew and swallow before adding, “I think you just have a problem.”

You roll your eyes, wondering if he even entertained the thought, but shrug since it doesn’t matter in the end. “Why are we always talking about how I’m weird? If anything, you're eccentric, not me.”

Kaiser wrinkles his nose in offense at the notion and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture in the air. “No. I’ve turned out totally normal. Don’t put me at your level.”

A lot of curiosities spin around your head concerning Kaiser’s behavior whenever you meet and you’re yet to find an answer. What does he want? Clearly he’s comfortable with and used to wanting, but what is it? Attention? Money? Fame? Status? All, none? Will it ever be enough? Is it even the kind of hunger which can be satiated?

Who is he when he’s not playing this ridiculous character?

“I can’t get a read on you,” you tell him.

“Well, you’re socially inept. I doubt you can get a read on anyone.”

“So are you.”

Kaiser feigns hurt over this. He does that a lot. Maybe he finds it hilarious, maybe the performance is all for shits and giggles — who knows.

“I want to dissect your head,” you say after a while of silence.

“Really? That’s what you wanna do with me?”

“Mhm. With a scalpel. I’d make an incision around your temple maybe.”

“My beautiful and demented angel, is that your way of saying you wanna get closer to me?” The sentence comes out mocking with a paper thin smile, but there’s a sense of admiration in it. What for? You raise an eyebrow in visible confusion at the… nickname, but Kaiser doesn’t elaborate. To take away from the tension(?), he announces, “You’ve got something stuck between your teeth,” pointing at your mouth all amused.

___

Kaiser had an ulterior motive in accepting that deal. Though wording it this way makes it sound like some calculated, opportunistic, sinister scheme, when in reality it’s nothing beyond immature and a little humiliating.

Of course, in true Kaiser fashion, when looking to meet someone, he goes straight for the most convoluted option. So when the stupid idea came up, he agreed, even if he put on a bit of a show at first and acted irritating. Confessing to wanting friends is so embarrassing. He’d rather shoot himself at point blank or perhaps commit an act of auto-defenestration than admit the real reason for participating, much less in front of you.

Despite the jabs, you’re also not bad at all. Calm and uninvolved in anything that upsets him and without any expectations towards him.

At first he found your indifference derogatory, but as the months have passed by, there’s a sort of comfort in knowing that he could’ve been some random guy off the street and you would’ve probably treated him the same. In front of you he is neither on a pedestal nor someone to be knocked down on his knees. More Michael than he is Kaiser.

Things have been teetering on a dangerous edge lately. His mind is wandering off towards you again, more and more often each day. Like maybe he’s excited for the next time he sees you or something else repulsive in a similar vein, a giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. Is this what it would’ve been like to be a little boy with a crush?

Generally he prefers not to socialize with background characters. So he doesn’t know why it’s while he’s having some benign daydream about you that some newbie he hadn’t bothered remembering the name of decides to interrupt him. Besides, it’s inconvenient, he was supposed to be leaving and this guy is blocking the changing room door.

“I heard you’re banging a model,” he says, as if they’re good pals or some shit. Kaiser is also mostly immune to annoying locker room talk since all the other psychotic men he knows are too busy being as fanatical as him to waste time on something as useless objectifying someone to pass the time, yet here this lowlife is.

Kaiser regards him with a judgmental side eye — for a second too long, almost television-style — and tries to move and sidestep him. “Why do you care? Pathetic cuck.”

“Woah, don’t be like that. I just thought it was funny. I’ve heard about that person before, would’ve thought it would be more of a hit it and quit it type thing. Yet here you are, still together.”

The emotion that zaps him is almost disorienting. Kaiser bruises easily, but it’s all about him. There’s never been much room for anyone else in his mentality of suffocating self-absorption, a depressing way to try and compensate for anyone who’s ever wronged him. Right now, though, he’s feeling anger on someone else’s behalf. A borderline exotic situation.

“So I was curious if that thing about loonies being the best at fucking was true? I’m assuming it is ‘cause I don’t know why else you’d stay with a schizoid.”

In the heat of the moment, when he’s pissed off, Kaiser is not the most poetic wordsmith. Thankfully politeness and civility are sensibilities which elude him. Without a second thought or any regret, he makes use of his water bottle still in his hand and dumps the entire contents of it over his head before elbowing him out of the way while he’s still confused.

___

You really don’t want to be having this conversation.

For fuck’s sake, you’re on break. And isn’t that supposed to mean relaxation? Yet the other model for the shoot today has been bugging you with unpleasant questions, putting you on the spot.

“Isn’t he a narcissist, though?” she asks, refusing to let go of the topic no matter how unresponsive you’ve been.

“I guess? Maybe. In a way…”

“You’re sooo… I don’t know. Like, you don’t even sound sure about what you’re telling me.” She narrows her eyes at you, leaning in a bit closer. “Aren’t you scared of him? Or is it ‘cause you’re so sheltered, you don’t know not to mess around with guys like Kaiser?”

Scared of him? It sounds ludicrous. At worst he’s whiny.

“He’s harmless,” you say. “Just a little rude and preoccupied with himself, that’s all. Actually, he’s an interesting and attentive person.”

She covers her mouth and lets out a sound of amusement, apparently now finding you more convincing and therefore dropping her worries. “He was saying you guys are suuuuuuuper in love with an interview.”

Not too engaged with the topic — since it’s about whatever lies Kaiser told the interviewer to entertain himself — you ask, “Is that what he was saying?”

“Yep. Didn’t you watch?”

“No.”

“Fine. Maybe he’s ‘interesting and attentive.’ I mean, I don’t believe it, but whatever. What about you, though? Do you like him, let alone love him? Can you even like anyone? I mean, shit, you know how you are. So, like, can you? Are you suuuuuuuper in love?”

You avert your eyes. “Yes,” you say. It’s true. You do like Kaiser well enough, probably more than you should. “And stop making assumptions about him and me.”

“What if I don’t stop? What are you gonna do?”

That’s… A very good question because there’s nothing you can do at the moment. Seems like a good opportunity to weaponize your reputation of being a deranged serial killer. “I’ll lick your eyebrows.”

You don’t know if your delivery is persuasive or not, but the idea you’d do such a thing must come off as believable enough because she makes a strange face before backing off.

___

You despise being in situations. And making decisions.

There’s a stupid PR meeting again. Your manager, who you think should move onto writing trashy novellas instead of administering poison to your career just because his imagination is overactive, proposed a new stunt. With the fake relationship running its course, you were discussing ways to publicize the ‘break up’ and he suggested a cheating scandal. Not to mention his great idea had you as the cheater — you swear he’s praying on your downfall at this point.

Maybe you’ve been treated as some kind of fucked up creature incapable of thought and trustworthy decisions, something insentient, you would’ve went along with it like always. Even though you know you’d look bad, the point is to make noise, and it would be a scandalous story if not anything else. Another indignity doesn’t matter much on an endless list.

Then Kaiser in true Kaiser fashion declared that he wants to keep the relationship going. To you, such an act of flippant defiance is unthinkable.

But obviously this forces you into a position where you need to pick between your options. They’re all staring at you, waiting. Kaiser is smiling at you from across his seat like you’re in on a joke with him. Anxious, you say, “I’ll think about it,” and stand up to leave.

You’re sweating because somewhere within you wanna announce ‘Yeah, I wanna keep seeing Michael Kaiser,’ but it’s so preposterous.

Kaiser doesn’t chase after you (though it’d be his style to do such a thing solely for the drama), but he catches up to you by the time you make it outside of the building, approaching the parking lot.

“Hey. Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me. Heeeeeeey.”

God he is such an annoying pest sometimes. You turn around to face him, snapping, “What?! What was that about anyway?”

“No, what’s with you? What is there to think about? You don’t want to look like a clown in front of the world, do you?”

You’re looking at Kaiser again like you’re trying to figure out a mystery. He always wants things, but what does he want from you? There has to be a reason for this. Otherwise, he should’ve been fine with the separation instead of trying to prolong it.

“Listen,” says Kaiser, a little apprehensive at your silence and expressionless gaze, “I can tell you barely tolerate your shitty job and that you probably don’t like the moronic idea your anthropomorphized cyst of a manager came up with, so why aren’t you protesting it?”

Those are objective enough observations. However, “Anthropomorphized cyst…?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Kaiser huffs, irked. “And by the way the fake meek act isn’t cute at all. They’re making money off of you. Tell them to fuck off and die and stop acting like a hostage.”

“This is very inspirational and all, Kaiser, but how about you tell me why you wanna keep the fake relationship going?”

“Doesn’t matter. If you don’t want that either, you can say we’ll settle for ending it instead of-”

You cross your arms. “Again, your attempts at a pep talk are adorable and appreciated, but you’re changing the subject now.”

“They’re not adorable. I’m right. Say I’m right.”

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” you relent with a roll of your eyes.

Kaiser smiles snidely and clasps his hands behind his back. “Thanks,” he says in a sarcastic tone. Then you expect him to entertain your question, but he doesn’t, leaving you in an uncomfortable staredown against him and his stupid ‘beautiful glowing blue orbs’ ass eyes.

“Answer me,” you demand.

“Your unpleasant personality and reclusive ways have bewitched me.”

…

…

“… What?”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Kaiser says with too much attitude considering the situation. Like, he just spoke out one of the most absurd sentences you’ve ever heard.

“Do you have a brain tumor?”

The outrageous suggestion makes him scoff. “Really? You think I need a brain tumor to like you?”

“Maybe,” you say. “Should’ve let me operate on you when I offered.”

“You’re mentally disturbed,” he replies like the fact turns him on or something.

“So were you asking me out or what?”

“Yes? No? Yes. Yeah, fine, I am.”

“Do you search up ‘personality’ on porn sites?”

“Come on, be serious. I mean what I’m saying and I want to give things between us a try. Do you?”

You cringe as if admitting your feelings or overall being in touch with them in the first place is a physically painful sensation, but in your defense you think you might throw up. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. My manager, I mean.”

Kaiser swings an arm around your shoulders, visibly pleased with the way this is all going. He sings, “That’s the spirit.”

What had he wanted from you? Affection and care, apparently. You think back on when you’d called him ‘disgusting’ and a foreign guilt overcomes you since you don’t usually lament the remarks you make during your misanthropic hissy fits.

Is it fine for someone such as yourself to also indulge in wanting? Hesitant, with shaky arms, you embrace him around the middle, the gentlest of hugs. Kaiser freezes for a moment as if he’s unsure what to do when he’s not the one initiating things, but eventually returns the gesture. Melts into it, even. Two existences brushing against one another, at first glance contrary yet perhaps similar in many ways.

When you finally pull away from each other little by little, Kaiser says, “Let’s elope now.”

You sigh. “You sure have a way of making everything sound way more exciting than it is.”

(He drives you back to your place, but still sucks at driving. Chivalrously, he avoids crashing the car, though.)

___

Yall I was drinking light yellow tap water for a few daysdo you think somethings gonna happen to me ?

Btw I hate this but it's finally finished after like around a month so whatever lol I' M FREE

for you, i’ll make an exception

pairing(s): sick!nagi seishiro x germaphobic!male reader

summary: nagi gets a fever, even though you’re deathly afraid of the possibility of getting sick, you decide to suck it up and help nagi.

warnings: bit of internalized homophobia (not a lot, just hesitating to kiss nagi cause he’s a boy)

a/n: first tumblr post, hope it's good! i love the sickfic trope, so i decided to do it for my first post. also, i didn’t proof read this so sorry if it’s bad. enjoy :))

you started noticing that nagi has been sluggish lately, really sluggish, like more than usual. it's to the point where it has you worried. you were thinking of the possibilities of this newfound sluggishness, you didn't like to think it, but what if he was sick? the thought made you squeamish, what if you got sick too? it made your mind race.

when class ended, you decided to approach him. "hey, nagi?" you asked. "hmm?" nagi replied lazily. "are you, uh, good?"you waited for his response, but it looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. "...tired" he responded before yawning. "guess you always are..." you muttered. "are you sure there's nothing wrong?" you decided to take another shot. "yeah, i guess. think i might have a fever though..." you just stared at him. your worst fears just settled in. fever? that's even worse than a cold? you could get sick just by standing here! by even breathing near him! you were silently panicking before you took a look at nagi and realized that he was actually really unwell. something in your heart softened a bit, maybe you'd made an exception...

the next day, nagi didn't show up. but why? was it the fever? or was he just too lazy to get out of bed? you decided to make a visit once school was over. the thought of helping him was a bit sickening…you washed your hands several times from the thought.

when the school day was over, you went over to his apartment. of course, prepared with hand sanitizer, a mask, and some gloves. you felt light headed from even touching the door. ‘i’m touching what a sick person touched…’ you thought several times over. you knocked, one, two, three times. no response…you thought of turning back and just forgetting about this. but the thought of nagi being sick changed your mind. you opened the door, then immediately put on hand sanitizer. it was cluttered, things were sprawled out on the floor, there was dust. all this was a nightmare, but you decided to keep on going, for nagi.

“nagi? hello? you in there?” it was only met with a dry cough. you started seriously regretting this…getting sick or helping nagi? what would it be? the thought made your head hurt. there were pros of helping out nagi than there were cons of getting sick…so that’s what you decided to do.

you walked in his room, holding the mask in your hand just in case. his room was just as messy as the outside. you’d definitely have a cleaning session with him. “l/n…?” nagi weakly called out. “yeah, it’s me. you good?” you said softly. “don’t feel well…can’t play games…” he sighed, he almost had a pouty look. it was adorable. you had a bit of sympathy for him. “cold…” nagi shivered a bit and he reached for your jacket. “hey! i might have to burn that now since you contaminated it!” you quickly wanted to take back what you said, it was kinda jerkish… “fine. you can have my jacket. just wash it, ‘kay?” you said reluctantly. “…’kay” then you lended him the jacket.

“smells like you…” he said before having a coughing fit. you wanted to jolt back, but something inside you just…didn’t. you felt a blush creep up your face. “huh? don’t say that sorta stuff, nagi! just rest up a bit and don’t talk…i’ll get you some soup.” you remarked. “fine by me…” nagi yawned again

you walked in with a bowl of soup and a cold compress. “cmon, sit up i got your soup” you sighed. “huh? but i don’t wanna get up…feed me…” he pouted. “seriously? you aren’t 5.” you rolled your eyes at this. but it was a bit adorable, in its own way. “help me sit up…” nagi looked at you. “uh…” you hesitated a bit…touching a sick person? and you just had to leave your gloves in the kitchen…but it was nagi…fine, you decided to settle on helping him. you took your hand out, before hesitating a bit, then held his hand to help him up.

“your hands are sweaty…” nagi bluntly stated. “oh shut up and let me help you” you snapped back softly. you held back the feeling to wash your hands. gross, gross, gross. your mouth felt dry and you felt yourself sweat a bit. you started feeding him the soup. “yum…you’re a good cook l/n” nagi ate the soup happily. “thanks, wasn’t anything special though…” you blushed a little.

there was a brief moment of silence, it was awkward and the only thing you could feel was your heart pounding. was it from the fear of getting sick? or was it him…? that was a stupid idea… you were stuck in your thoughts before nagi broke the silence. “i’m sorry i made you come here…i know you much you hate getting sick…” he said softly, you could tell he felt bad. “oh, uh, don’t worry ‘bout it. for you, i’ll make an exception.” you kept feeding him the soup.

after a bit you grabbed the cold compress, leaned forward and put it to his head. it was then you realized you two were pretty damn close. maybe if you leaned a bit more forward… no, it was wrong. he was sick, and you were both guys… but the urge was driving you crazy. you shook your head and went back to your senses.

nagi ate all the soup, which was surprising since he didn’t normally have the motivation to even eat at all. you were about to get up when you felt a hand tug at your shirt. “stay with me…” you blushed hard. ‘you can’t just keep playing with my feelings like this…’ you thought. “…fine” you said reluctantly before sitting down at his desk again. “in bed…” nagi muttered. “what?” you asked, what was he saying? “in bed, with me…” nagi muttered again. was he seriously saying what you thought he was saying? “you want me to lay in bed with you?” your face flushed all sorts of crimson. “mhm…” nagi nodded slowly. “first you want my jacket and now you want me to lay with you?” you put your hands on your hips. “yeah…will you not do it?” nagi looked up at you with a pouty expression. “I— uh— fine.” you gave in, you got in bed with him and pulled the covers over you two.

“warm…” you felt him cuddle up to you and lay on your chest. “hey—” you tried to protest, but then you realized he was already asleep. you chuckles and smiled softly. “good night, nagi. sweet dreams” you whispered before kissing his forehead.

Rin so pretty

POV: your sibling asked you for something

I love him so much ong

itoshi rin giving you the last bite of his food. <3 wc; 676

watching rin's pretty face as he chewed on his cheesy potato pancakes wasn't something you had expected to do today, but it also wasn't your fault that rin could make something as simple as eating so tempting. the way the stuffed mozzarella stretched from between your boyfriend's lips and the delicacy had you salivating— you wished you hadn't declined his considerate offer an hour ago, when he called you on the phone and asked if you wanted him to get you something to eat. you were full when he called, so now you couldn't help but watch him with a ravenous gaze and a watering mouth as he eats bite after bite, the colours on the television screen bouncing off his face. "you're drooling," rin pointed out as he once again turns his attention towards you, "i've asked you seven times already, but are you absolutely sure that you don't want a bite?" "y-yes rin, i'm one hundred percent certain!" you laugh awkwardly, wiping your mouth with your sleeve as you notice how the number of cheesy potato pancakes on his plate seem to reduce every few minutes, much to your dismay. "hm..." he mumbles boredly, holding one savory with his fingers and pushing it against your stubbornly shut lips, "liar. open your mouth." you gently push his hand away, shaking your head, "i'm not hungry," you utter, although your firm eye contact with his plate betrays your statement, "i swear." "whatever." he sighs, focusing on the football match on the screen as he enjoys yet another bite. the fact that he could read you like an open book was irritating, but to be fair, your expressions wouldn't make it difficult for anyone to guess that maybe, just maybe, you were hungry. you had no idea why you persisted on being so stubborn when rin had generously offered you his food multiple times— perhaps it was the guilt of taking away the food he bought for himself despite him asking you if you craved for anything that got you so adamant— but either way, you were now eyeing the last crispy, golden coloured piece on his plate. "actually—" you blurted out, shifting on the couch until you were finally beside him. your nails harmlessly dug into his forearm as he looks at you knowingly, a subtle smile forming on his lips. "can i... have one, please?" "it's my last one," he mutters with feigned pettiness as he hands you the last potato pancake with no hesitation, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you closer to him, "but only because you're so cute." "thanks!" you smile as you lean against him and begin stuffing your face with the crispy good, but unfortunately, much to your disappointment, you wiped off its existence in about a minute. "it was really good..." you say softly while looking down at the empty plate, trying to appreciate this cute situation of your boyfriend giving you his last bite, but seriously, it only aroused your appetite. rin rolls his eyes and tilts your chin to face him, "don't look so upset," he deadpanned, licking the corner of your lips to remove the excess potato crumbs. "but i'm hungry—" "i know," he sighs, getting up and vanishing into the kitchen. he appears a few seconds later with a bag identical to the one for the cheesy potato pancakes, "...which is why i bought you some as well." "ohmigod!" you exclaim excitedly, quickly opening the styrofoam container and welcoming the exquisite aroma, "thank you, rinnie! i'm glad you bought one for me too." he pulls your face in for a quick kiss before squishing your cheeks lightly. "i ought to know by now, considering the amount of times you played this move on me." you softly giggle as you carelessly eat the food in front of you, "you know me so well." rin lays his head down on your lap and yawns softly, your clean hand quick to run its fingers through his hair. "i'd be a fool if i didn't."

comments appreciated <3

hHsjdnfmddmmdrm

study sessions

pairing(s): oblivious!itoshi sae x flirty!male reader

summary: you are giving one too many hints that you like sae, but he gets none of them and assumes you two are a bit too close for friends. you decide to take matters into your own hands and be his secret admirer

warnings: none!

word count: 4.5k

a/n: thanks for the support on my last post i love you guys!! it’s like one of my biggest headcanons that sae is oblivious to things such as romance cuz the only thing he canonically knows abt is football 😭. i had no idea what to write for the notes so...yeah. also, i didn't intend for it to be so long, i just kept writing. anyways enjoy this mess of a fic! <3 (not proof read)

you sat in class, leaning on your right hand, thinking and a bit annoyed. how hasn’t sae taken the hint? you don’t just flirt with your friends, dammit! you probably couldn’t even ask him out cause he’d just assume you were joking. you don’t ask friends out as a joke either do you? friends…that word left a bad taste in your mouth. you were so blatantly obvious, but he couldn’t take the hint? you started thinking of plans that might work. then you settled on one. be sae's secret admirer, then reveal who you are! the more you thought about it, the more the plan seemed like a good idea. it was around a week from his birthday too, maybe that'd be your gift to him, a new boyfriend. you grinned in excitement, this was gonna be fun!

after you got home, you decided to write him a note and put it in his locker. you changed your handwriting while you were writing the note, not wanting him to discover who it was immediately. it was pretty simple, but kinda (very) directed at his obliviousness, but it was nothing out of his comfort zone. the note read "i think you're pretty cute, but you can't take a hint. maybe start paying attention to how others act around you!". you wondered if your plan would work, but only time will tell.

the next day you arrived early and put the note in his locker. you hoped that he wouldn’t throw it out like the other love letters and confessions he got. your prayers were answered though, as during lunch, when you were sitting at your guys’ desks, he said something. “i got a note in my locker today,” he said bluntly. “yeah?” you grinned, “and you didn’t throw it out?” you silently celebrated. “no, something about it was different.” he gave you the note and crossed his arms before leaning them on the table. “what did she mean by ‘start paying attention to how others act around you’?” his eyebrows furrowed in curiousity. “she, huh? you think it’s a girl?” you looked in his eyes. “are you implying it’s not?” sae raised an eyebrow. “just saying, ya never know” you smiled.

you stared at the note a bit longer. “kinda funny how they say you’re cute but then say you’re oblivious,” you chuckled, “can’t blame ‘em” you flirted, but the tone was quite subtle. “what’s that supposed to mean?” sae looked at you curiously, “don’t worry ‘bout it” you waved off. “seriously—nevermind. you’re impossible anyway” he sighed in defeat. you grinned at him, “yeah, i know.”

you looked over at the note again, “honestly, i think it’s a sign to think about anything other than football.” you remarked as you toyed with the edge of the note, your fingers tracing the words as you tried to gauge sae's reaction. “football is not the only thing i think about. it's important to me, though.” sae said, his tone a bit offended. “you literally don’t pay attention in class because you’re thinking about it.” you stared at him with an eyebrow raised, “that’s why we go on like study dates all the time.” you put the word ‘date’ on purpose, wondering how he’d react. “i guess you’re right.” he said indifferently. no reaction... “hey, we gotta test tomorrow, right? let’s go to my place and study for it!” you suggested, “but we have to practice for our upcoming practice match after midterms…” he protested, both of you were on the school’s team and often practiced together. “well you won’t play if you don’t keep up your grades!” you protested right back. “…fine. i’ll go over to your house.”

after the school day was over, you waited at the gates for sae so you two could walk home. he was late, which made you annoyed. so you decided to text him. his contact name read ‘sae ❤️’ which he never commented on, for some odd reason. you texted him “where r u?? i’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes”. after 1 or 2 minutes he responded with “sorry, some girl confessed to me. i think she was the one who left me the note.” oh how wrong he was…

sae finally met up with you and he was as stoic as ever. “well well well, look who showed up,” you got up from the wall you leaned on, “betcha you rejected that girl without hesitation as usual, didn’t you?” you smirked, seeing how she was clearly upset and tearing up. you hoped that wouldn’t be you… “i wouldn’t say without hesitation…” sae shoved his hands in his pockets. “yeah right! you totally did, she’s crying cuz of ya, playboy!” you snickered a bit, “it’s not funny, l/n. and don’t call me ‘playboy’” he looked at you coldly. “you’re such a buzzkill, it was a joke anyways, handsome.” you teased with a coy smirk before putting an arm around his shoulder. “ugh, don’t call me that either, what’s even the point of calling me that?” he replied with a grimace. “ah, just saying cause you are, and all the girls seem to think so too.” you smirked. “don’t joke around like that.” he said, a face of disdain became more evident. “see? a total buzzkill…”

you opened the door to your house before turning and speaking to him, “so, you wanna tell me what happened with that girl?” your curiosity was out of this roof. “she confessed to me like any other girl. but i think she was the one, cause she handed me a letter and the handwriting was pretty similar.” sae mentioned. “that so? and what if it doesn’t stop?” you asked, already knowing the answer. “try to find out who it is, i guess”

the two of you went up to your room. it wasn’t messy but it wasn’t clean either. you grabbed an extra chair, put it at your desk and you two started studying together. you regularly had the urge to stare at him for long moments of time, and “accidentally” brush your fingers on his when grabbing a pen. sae's gaze flickered to the folded paper on your desk, a curious expression crossed his face, “hey, what’s that?” you looked at the note, it was the second letter, but you couldn’t ouright tell him that, “uh, it’s a grocery list my mom gave me for tomorrow, cause she won’t be here.” and he took it, like that. “oh, okay.” then shrugged it off…

“hey, can you help me with this question?” sae asked, you already knew all the material, since you actually payed attention in class. “sure,” and you leaned over, a bit too close (on purpose), and started helping him with the question. “you get it now?” you asked, after some frustration. “yeah, thanks. you’re actually kinda smart.” he remarked backhandedly, “hey! what’s that supposed to mean? i’m very smart thank you very much! i wouldn’t even be in this situation if you actually paid attention in class. stop focusing on football so much!” you hit him on the head lightly, but in a playful manner. he tried to hit you back, but you dodged, right before your chair tipped backwards and you fell. “guess you could say i fell for you— ow!” then your head got hit, not as lightly by sae. “don’t say stuff like that.”

you faked a sulk for the rest of the time he was there, maybe he’d feel bad for you and kiss you or something. “you gonna keep pouting?” he asked, “yeah. maybe you should leave, you’re ruining my vibe with all this negativity!” you didn’t really mean that, but of course he thought that. sae really didn’t get social cues. “wait! i didn’t actually mean that—” then he shut the door. now you were actually sulking. stupid sae…didn’t even give you a kiss either.

it was day 2 of your plan, you bought a cute little seagull plush keychain and wrote a note to go with it. it read “hey, handsome! just wanna say, you’re a bit dense for not even getting one clue. but keep it up! i believe in ya!” maybe he’d get that ‘handsome’ was something that you’d often say to him…yeah probably not. it was a stretch. you did the same thing, go to school a bit early, put the things and his locker and pretend nothing happened. a part of you wanted this to continue, but the other didn't. there was an urge to tell him you liked him and get it over with. but where was the fun in that?

as you sat in class, you finished your test, which was fairly easy. but you seemed to zone out after that, your mind occupied on how to get sae to realize that it was you. the thought got you frustrated, but pumped out as you wondered what sae's reaction would be to your note. after class, there was a few minutes before the next teacher came in. "hey." sae said as he sat next to you, "soo...what'd ya think?" nudging him playfully with your elbow, his expression nonchalant as ever. "about...?" he asked, "about the test, silly! you think you passed?" he had to be fairly confident, i mean you helped him out. "uh, sure. it was kinda easy." he dismissed it, as always. "it's totally cause i helped you out, right? right?" you teased, "...right, whatever you say."

something seemed to be on sae's mind. maybe it was about the notes. your suspicions were confirmed when he said something, "i got another note today," he mentioned, his expression puzzled. you couldn't contain your excitement as you took the note from him and examined it before giving it back, "wow, another one huh?" you remarked casually, trying to conceal your eagerness. "what's it say?" you asked, your breath hitching in your throat. sae shrugged, clearly confused by the note's contents. "it's just… encouraging me to pay more attention to things," he replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. you tried to avoid yourself from smiling inwardly, knowing that your plan was working. "maybe they're trying to help you out," you suggested playfully, hoping he would catch on to your subtle hints.

despite your frustration, you found it impossible to not admire how clueless sae was, it was adorable, in its own irritating way. you tried to drop hints and flirtatious comments, but he seemed to brush them off without a second thought as you just "joking". but as much as you wanted to reveal the truth, there was a part of you that hesitated. what if sae didn't feel the same way? what if it ruined the friendship you had worked so hard to build? despite all this, you didn't want to give up either. you were so deep into this already.

so, for the rest of every period, your gaze remained fixed to him. thinking on how to confess to him, also admiring him. after a bit of thinking, midterms were the day after sae’s birthday, unfortunately. must suck, must suck even harder because all club activities were canceled for the rest of the week due to midterms too! but, there was a good part to it too, maybe he won’t focus so much on football. after school, before he was going to walk home, you called out his name.

“sae! wait up!” he turned around to see you jogging to him, “what?” sae snapped at you, not too rudely though, a bit annoyed he couldn’t be alone. “you wanna come over to my house to study for midterms? cmon, i know you’re not learning anything in class, as always!” you could see him be reluctant before sighing. “fine, but not today. i’m busy.” fair enough, it was fine, as long as if you got to confess to him on his birthday. “you better not be saying that so you can play football!” you turned to look at him and you saw he was avoiding your gaze. “you’re totally obsessed…” not like you could say anything. you were pretty much obsessed with football too (and him), but not as much.

the atmosphere was kinda awkward after that, so you decided to say something, “did you get another clue to who that person was?” you asked casually, trying to read his expression. “not yet,” he admitted, “but i know it’s someone closer to me. how else would they know seagulls were my favorite animal?” he wondered holding up the keychain, admiring it a bit in the light. “you gonna keep it?” you looked at the keychain as well, hoping he said yes, “yeah, it’s pretty cute. i don’t want to throw something like this away either.” you eyes naturally set on the way his lips curled up ever so slightly, the way his hair fell on his face and caught the sunlight. your face flushed as you scrambled to look away. if you didn’t realize it before, but now was when you realized how much you actually liked him.

“so, this one’s different, huh?” you tried to change the subject, “what do you mean ‘different’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. you fumbled for words, as you thought about if he caught you staring or not, “i mean, normally you throw out any gift and reject every person…what’s so different now?” you swallowed nervously, hoping your words didn't come off too blunt. "i just meant... well, you usually don't keep stuff like this. but this time, you're actually considering it," you explained, trying to sound nonchalant. sae nodded slowly, seeming to think about your observation. "yeah, I guess you're right. It's just... different," he admitted, his gaze shifting to the keychain in his hand. he beat you to saying something else before you could, “it’s like, they’re close to me, right under my fingertip and i want to know who.”

“yeah?” you smiled at him again, admiring his features once more. “hey, hypothetically, if the person was a guy, would you care?” you asked on a whim, “i guess...not really." he replied with a shrug. "why do you ask?" you shrugged nonchalantly, but secretly felt relieved. at least he wouldn't out right reject you. trying to keep your nerves at bay, you tried to justify yourself, "just curious, y'know? it's interesting to think about." sae nodded in agreement, but you could sense a hint of suspicion in his gaze. it made you wonder if he was starting to suspect something, if he was beginning to piece together the puzzle of his secret admirer.

you waved him goodbye as he walked into his house. tomorrow was the weekend, so you couldn't outright give him anything, but you'd still hint at it when he came over to your house to study. that night, you tossed and turned in bed, partly from the thought of confessing, but also how good he looked on the walk back to his house. you rolled around in bed, almost like a middle school girl in a shojo. it wasn't your best of times, but you refrain from the thought of him, and him piecing together the puzzle had you biting your bottom lip in nervousness and excitement.

when saturday came, you paced back and forth in your room, thinking of what to say and do when he came. you felt pretty damn tired, too from last night, barely got a wink of sleep. you mumbled 'don't screw this up' over and over again when you heard a knock at the door. "sae! you made it!" you said with a sigh of relief, at least he didn't ditch you to watch game footage or anything like that, "yeah, i did." you tried to go in for a hug but he quickly dismissed that.

after an hour or so of studying, you got bored so you decided to hint what you were doing for his birthday. “sae, your birthday’s coming up right? october 10th?” you tried to put in the conversation casually, “yeah, why?” he looked at you with some suspicion, "i'm just asking. but, i'm sure you'd love me for my gift" a small, yet cocky smirk crept onto your face, "don't you mean i'd love 'it'?" he expressed, some more suspicion in his tone, "oh no, i know what i meant, you're gonna love me." he sighed in defeat, he knew there was no point in pushing it further.

so, that's basically how it went for the next few days. him being stupidly oblivious, you trying to drop the hint even further. you got nowhere, on wednesday, the day before his birthday, you decided to give him a flower. not an overly big bouquet, you'd probably save that for the actual confession, instead, you opted for a single flower. it was a flower he'd seen before, and that you knew he liked. there was a vase with a single flower in your room, his eyes consistently focused on it. it was a light pink hydrangea, it was beautiful, so you understood why he stared at it often. maybe he'd understand then. you decided to take the one that was in your room, when he came over that day, maybe he'd ask why the vase was empty and get the god damn hint already,

as per usual, you went early, dropped the gift off, and went off. there wasn't any note this time, as you were kinda sick of writing them. plus, the big day was tomorrow, you'd save every pent up emotion for then. you waited for him in the courtyard, when you spotted him in the courtyard examining the flower you went up to greet him. "hey, sae! looks like you got a flower now, huh?" you wrapped an arm around his shoulder to break him out of his trance, "yeah. this is the same flower that's in your room, right?" at least he got the hint, you pretended to study it for a bit before replying, "hm, yeah, it is. funny ain't it? maybe they know you really well." you looked at sae to gauge his expression, he did a simple nod and kept his blank expression. you clenched your fists in frustration as sae brushed off your flirtatious comment, a knot forming in your stomach. whatever, he'd have another shot when he went to your house anyway.

you were right, because when he went to your room, he noticed the empty vase immediately. "the flower is missing." he pointed out, "gave it to someone real special" you looked at him as you said that, "it was a nice flower, you should've gave it to me...but i can't really complain if they're that special to you..." you were instictively drawn to the way sae's expression softened when he talked about the flower, a hint of vulnerability shining through his normally neutral face.

you stared at him in a 'are you serious?' look. well yeah, you did give it to him, and he was special, "sorry, was that rude?" sae took note of your expression, "oh no no, it's something else," you quickly went back to focusing, "let's just cram for midterms" you muttered, hoping to divert the conversation away from your failed attempt at dropping another hint. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that sae didn't seem to catch on to your subtle gestures. but you pushed those feelings aside and focused on studying for midterms.

nothing special happened, just some plain ol' cramming. but, you failed to focus on it. all your thoughts went to the day tomorrow. the thought had you feeling all sorts of emotions. sae noticed your unusual quietness and said something on the matter, "is something wrong? you're being awfully quiet." you felt yourself tense up, "just nervous for midterms...don't wanna fail...haha..." you made a pathetic excuse of a lie, he narrowed his eyes a bit, trying to examine your actions before ultimately deciding to drop it. at a desperate attempt to change the subject you decided to point something out that you noticed, "hey, the bracelets you normally wear, you don't wear them anymore," you pointed out, "oh, i lost them. hadn't gotten the chance to get new ones." you kept that in mind, you'd probably get him a new bracelet for his birthday.

you could barely sleep that night, you stayed up thinking what'd you say, do, act. everything had to be perfect, it probably wouldn't end up that way, but you tried your best. a voice popped up in your head that made you not even want to confess in the first place. it said the same things that made you reluctant before, 'what if he didn't like me back? what if i ruined our friendship?' what if this and that. but what if he actually liked you back, and everything turned out even better than you hoped? every thought was about the next day, it made your head spin. after a bit of staying up, you realized being all tired and having eye backs wasn't cute and a good look for a confession, so you forced yourself to sleep.

on the morning of sae's birthday, you woke up with a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. today was the day you would finally reveal your feelings to him. you couldn't focus on anything else, not even the midterms the next day. every thought was consumed by sae and the confession that awaited. as the day progressed, you found it increasingly difficult to contain your excitement. you kept glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until you could see sae and tell him how you felt. It felt like time was moving at a snail's pace, each minute dragging on endlessly. you went to his locker and put in the last note, 'meet me at the rooftop at 7:30'. it was short and straight to the point, no cryptic messages or hints.

you stood at the rooftop, your back leaning on the railing. your palms felt sweaty and you could hear your heartbeat get louder. your mind was full of feelings you wanted to get out. you were looking up at the sky to get your mind off of everything. the scenery was beautiful, you were lost in it until you heard the sound of the door opening, and there you saw him. the man you've liked since forever. his face was a mix of a lot of emotions, it was hard to read, to be honest.

as sae stepped onto the rooftop, the setting sun casting a warm glow around him, your heart skipped a beat. you felt the breath get sucked out of your lungs, he looked stunning, more than usual, actually. "hey, sae," you began, your voice trembling slightly with nervousness but filled with anticipation. "i'm so glad you actually came." his eyes widened in surprise, his gaze flickering between you and the breathtaking view spread out before him. "it was you?" he breathed, his voice tinged with disbelief. you chuckled nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the delicate bracelet you had carefully chosen for him.

"surprise…? if it wasn't obvious enough…" you paused, your heart pounding in your chest as you took a step closer to him. "there's something I've been wanting to tell you," you confessed, your voice soft but determined. with trembling hands, you slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his skin. "i really like you, sae," you whispered, your gaze locked with his. "it's been this way for a while, but I never had the chance to say anything." you reached out, presenting him with the bouquet of pale pink hydrangeas, their soft petals illuminated by the fading light. "these are for you," you said softly, a shy smile playing on your lips.

taking in a deep breath, you continued, your voice filled with sincerity and vulnerability. "i've been dropping hints since the beginning of time and i was hoping you'd catch on, but i realized i had to take matters into my own hands. i needed to tell you how i felt eventually. sae's eyes softened as he listened to your heartfelt confession, his expression shifting from surprise to something warmer, something more tender. "i…i didn't realize," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "i never knew you felt this way." you took a step closer, your heart pounding in your ear with anticipation as you reached your hand out to gently cup his cheek.

"i've been waiting for this moment for so long..." you admitted, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the breeze, "to finally tell you how much you meant to me. so please, can i be your boyfriend?" you gazed directly into his eyes, waiting for the dreadful answer. as you waited for sae's response, the tension in the air seemed to thicken, every passing moment feeling like an eternity. sae's gaze softened as he took in your confession, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and something else you couldn't quite place. you held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited his answer.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, sae's lips curled into a gentle smile, a warmth spreading across his features. "know that i know how you feel, i don't want to waste anymore time." your heart skipped a beat as you felt a surge of hope and anticipation wash over you. could it be…? "sae," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the gentle hum of the wind, "what do you mean?" a soft chuckle escaped sae's lips as he took a step closer to you, his eyes sparkling with newfound clarity and determination. "i mean… i want to be more than just friends," he confessed, his voice steady and sure. "i want to be with you, too."

you felt excited and shocked and every other emotion there was out there. you uttered a single word, "really?" your heart felt like it was about to explode out of joy. sae nodded, his smile widening as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "really," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "i've been blind for so long, but now that i see… i don't want to let you go." you wanted to cry, that's what. "you're so stupid for not seeing this...i never want to let you go too..." your voice trembled, you sniffled while saying it too.

"i'm sorry. i really am." he admitted, and without another word sae closed the distance between you two. time stopped, it was as simple as that. everything went to a halt as you tried to process what happened. the kiss was sweet and simple, just as you two liked it. in that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the setting sun and the gentle rustle of the breeze, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the sweetness of the moment. you pulled away after what felt like ages.

"happy birthday sae," you said softly, your voice at a barely audible level. "you're right, i did love you for this gift. thanks for everything." he smiled, his face totally different from his usual unemotional look. "no problem and," you held your breath for the next words you were about to say, "i love you." you felt at peace, you finally said what you've always wanted to say, "i love you too."