Michael Kaiser X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

Could I request Kaiser with reader. The two of them are partners for a project when he offers her a brownie he made, (one that he drugged), she was hesitant but took it, once she felt a little intoxicated, he took advantage of her, despite her trying to push him off, her state made her weaker and unable to push him off as he did what he wanted with her. At the end, he blackmailed her with the recording he took of him taking advantage of her

contested cravings

PAIRING. MICHAEL KAISER X CHUBBY READER

CONTENT WARNINGS. noncon + drugging, nonconsensual recording + groping and touching + kissing + blackmail + sabotage + penetrative sex + manipulation + cunnilingus.

SYNOPSIS. michael's is the bad news with his good looks and talent and the reason why you avoided him.

class projects aren't bad not until you're paired with michael kaiser. the school's star athlete and the resident asshole if you must add. have a bad habit of belittling others that pisses most of the whole student body and only hangs out with alexis ness. whom may have developed an unhealthy obsession with the school's golden boy. following him like a lost pup and would skedaddle if kaiser shooed him off.

you found the dynamic between them unsettling and how could ness accepted being treated like that. you guess is just how they express their feeling or to make the other feel good about themselves and you kind of really don't care, not when michael is your partner. his blonde hair is streaked with baby blue highlights on the tips and that haircut that suits him.

you instantly averted your gaze when you see him walking towards you and pretends that you didn't notice him. feigning interest in a book that you have read over and over.

“at my place?” he asks, smoothing his blonde locks. “s-sure.” you answered him. a little worriedly than you have liked and it looks like you were hesitant and regretting your action towards him.

michael paid it no mind. people acted around him like he was a real total assholes and he is and you were no different from the reactions people have shown him. he just gave you a smile and left you to your own devices.

of course, he have a room for himself. he's the school's star athlete and it comes with privilege including personal spaces. you texted him earlier and there he is. opening his door for you to come in. you gave him a curt greeting. “can we start now?” you asked him. the sooner this project is done the better. you really don't want to be alone with michael. “does my presence annoys you that much?” he smirks, eyeing you in such lazy manner that your eyes widen at what he was saying. kaiser chuckles at your reaction. “just kidding. don't want to waste more than time. make yourself comfortable then.” pointing at his work table. the books and papers and pens are neatly arranged. you didn't took him to be the studious type regarding how he acts in the general but you have judged him too early and mentally slapped yourself for thinking that way and you were still suspicious that he is too polite to you.

“what?” pursing your lips in thin line. you shaked your head. “nothing, michael.” he ignores you and sat beside you. already grabbing the needed materials and you both began in silence.

working with michael isn't so bad. he wasn't his usual asshole self who picks fight at school and insults someone for how they look and their skill. michael's behavior placed you in a dangerous situation with him and interactions with him meant to break what little self-confidence you have. opposite he was. he was so good at following up instructions and have studied in advance. it looks like it was better that you should both have split the workload.

“oh i forgot, i would be a bad host if i didn't you offer you some food. i've gotten brownies in that newly opened bakery.” he said, taking off his round glasses he was wearing while you both worked. michael screams like he comes from old money from how he acts and it was totally out of character for him to offer you some refreshments.

he placed a tray of food in the table. consisting of various sweet treats and some drinks. “pick what you want, sweets.” the nickname made you cringed cause michael is really acting nice to you. something's very off at this whole situation. looking at the assortment of sweets in the tray. you hesitated but the look michael is giving you told you otherwise. so you grabbed one and took a bite. “good choice.” he praises you before grabbing a treat for himself.

the brownie's good. the chocolatey goodness melting in your mouth, bursting with flavor. you hum in delight to show your appreciation for the good food and michael nods. smiling a bit and slowly chews. you just only ate one. afraid that he'll comment something and you would rather die than have him say something. it took awhile before you both decided to pick up what's left of the work.

strangely, you have never been feeling so lightheaded before followed by a strange pounding on your head. you grasp the pencil you were holding and it only rolls away from you. you try grabbing it again and it feels like you were holding air. “is something wrong, (y/n)?” you follow the sound of the direction of the voice. why was kaiser is blurry to your vision. did h-he? you were unable to finish your muddled thoughts and even in such state you feel his lips to yours.

your lips is what he imagined to be. soft and plump with the right touch of sweetness. thanks to the brownies. heh. it wasn't really he brought. he put an effort to it just to have what's in front of him. the drug that ness brought him did work just like how he wanted it. you were still conscious and a bit aware of everything but is unable to do anything but he is quite surprised that you were still able to move a bit even it was just an attempt to push him off.

“i can't have you pushing me. i really worked for this.” is what you heard before you are being pushed slowly in his bed.

when you laid there in his bed. michael admires you like he was a painter of his greatest masterpiece. looking like some baroque period painting coming to life while your body's is temporarily incapacitated. his efforts have bore results and he's about to sow.

he begins to strip you. quite annoyed from the layers of clothing you wore. he knows it was fully intentional. not wanting to be called a slut nor a prude by him. he knows his harsh and he likes people when they cry and you were no exception of it. he could have bullied you. break you and pull you apart until you were left nothing but michael withstood all the desires of it cause he wanted you like this. helpless and needing of him.

his palms slowly glides through the expanse of skin. you were the definition of what he deemed perfection in his eyes. your perfectly fit in his and he was about to mold you from his very own hands. he can see the tears pricking in your eyes. glistening as you helplessly watch him defile you.

kaiser never liked giving and receiving. he only takes but what's between your legs leaves him hungry for it. the plushness of your fat pussy drooling with slick is enough to drive him crazy so he did what he did. giving your fat pussy a lick and he was hooked immediately. he continued to devour your pussy until he was satisfied besides his cock is really needing some relief and it was painful. he just found the right place to stick it on.

it was only the tiniest of moans and gasps coming from you but he sure enjoyed it. a symphony being composed and is a music to his hears he won't get tired of listening to. he grabbed and bite whatever his hands and mouth can get to. you were so fucking supple and divine. fitting for an emperor like him. the way your body jiggles and ripples with his very thrusts leaving him grunting and growling for more. your fat pussy is deliciously wrapped around his fat cock that it leaves a drooling mess to your cunt. he already has cummed many times and it squelches with every thrust along with your pussy. his cum being deposited inside of you.

michael glances at the clock. the night is still young and he was going savor all of it until the morning comes. he continues to assault your abused cunt. smiling to himself at the direction of where his phone is currently placed. he needs to commemorate this special occasion.

you were sore. your body screaming in pain while you grab the pieces of your clothing besides you. the tears uncontrollably running down your cheeks while you scramble to get your things and leave this hell hole that was michael's room. “why are you crying?” he asks, sipping a cup of coffee. dressed in his robe and his reading glasses resting in the tip of his nose. “fuck you, michael.” you seethed at the blonde. michael chuckles. “strong words coming from you.” he added.

you were about to grab the last belonging of yours before he interrupts you. “i believe you have a favor to ask me.” your eyes widens. he shows you a video of him repeatedly fucking you. putting you in different positions. “don't you dare, michael.” you warned him. “you fucking raped me, you son of a bitch.” michael didn't really like the tone of your voice and it just triggered something to him. he stands up and made his way to you. grasping your soft jaw in a tight manner. he forces a smile. “oh, i really am.” he taunts you. his blue eyes is filled with storm inside them. “defy me and you're getting this video leaked.”

“what the fuck you want?”

“watch your tone.” he warns before smiling.

“be mine and i'll let this thing disappear like it didn't happen.”

“fuck no.”

“oh really, such a shame. you were enjoying it. see?” he really made it look like you were having the best night of your life. he wipes the tears on your round cheeks.

“good.” he whispers. seeing the look in your face and it left him triumphant.

“don't leave. we really ain't done. i am still starting to enjoy it.”

━━━━━BLIND DATE━━━

content. Blue Lock / f!reader. LOOKGATIING, Nectar & staff. mini-series. fluff (w/ suggestive moments).

Warnings. mentions / allusions to sex or intimacy.

notes. Series will be updated irregularly. Some suggestive moments (BUT not explicit smut). sfw + fluff only.

Taglist form

━━Blind Date & GRWM Blind Date ┊BLLK mini-series masterlist

── BLIND DATE ! (01)

✾ ⋆ Single Inferno with; Itoshi Rin, Chigiri Hyoma, Bachira Meguru & Isagi Yoichi.

The single's inferno staff prepare an island where 4 man and 5 girls that are stranded and ready to mingle, 9 flirty singles search for love on a deserted island that they can only escape as couples for date nights on their new island, Paradise.

── BLIND DATE ! (02)

✾ ⋆ Blind Date with pretty youtuber and handsome athletes with; Itoshi Sae, Oliver Aiku, Michael Kaiser.

The LOOKGATING staff have bring you to a blind date with 3 other girls behind 4 blind colour based on pink, brown, yellow and mint, Men don't know women's face, women are standing behind the blinds, after the blinds are raised in the order of shoes, bottom, top. When Men make a final choice, Women reveal their faces. They have to choose who to date based on how they dress on what occasions.

── BLIND DATE ! (03)

✾ ⋆ GRWM Blind Date with; Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Rin, Chigiri Hyoma.

The LOOKGATING have bring all 6 of you 3 girls 3 guys in a room together, the girls have come bare face and get ready with the guys watching how they do their usual GRWM.

── BLIND DATE ! (04)

✾ ⋆ A 2 on 4 Blind Date with; Mikage Reo, Barou Shoei.

The LOOKGATING staff have bring one of the bllk to a blind date with 3 other guys behind 4 blind colour based on pink, brown, yellow and mint, Women don't know men's face, men are standing behind the blinds, after the blinds are raised in the order of shoes, bottom, top. When women make a final choice, men reveal their faces. You and the other girl have to choose who to date based on what they wear for dates.

── BLIND DATE ! (05)

✾ ⋆ Blind dates based on outfit with; Nagi Seishiro, Mikage Reo, & Bachira Meguru.

Due to popular demand after the bllk sucess on finding a date, the LookGating staff have organised another blind dates. Women don't know men's face, men are standing behind the blinds, after the blinds are raised in the order of shoes, bottom, top. When women make a final choice, men reveal their faces.

── BLIND DATE ! (06)

✾ ⋆ You blind dates 10 guys with; Jyubei Aryu, Yukimiya Kenyu, Barou Shoei, Karasu Tabito.

The nectar staff is hosting a special blind date for you, where you are blind dates 10 guys without seeing their face unless you eliminated them or end up with them, there's a first impression, elimination, QnA, elimination, QnA and Elimination.

notes. © property of kodzukenmaa 2023. all rights reserved. likes and reblogs are well appreciated

"I DON'T THINK I LOVE YOU ANYMORE."

(I hate this post so much pretend this doesnt exist😭😭)

....alone again???...

ANGST

michael kaiser x fem reader

reader had abandonment issues (real😂😂🤑🤑)

(my sensitive ass cannot handle angst but whatever)

"And do you know what she said???" You asked Michael, a soft grin plastered on your face. You and Michael were currently in café on a date together, you couldn't lie you were over the moon to be spending time with your boyfriend he's been so busy with football you've been barely able to see him.

"She—" You say but something seemed off with Michael. "Micha, are you listening to me???" You ask him your grin being replaced with a small concerned frown.

"What??— yes, of course I am, meine süße." Michael reassures you, but you could tell he wasn't interested in you babbling about whatever. You can feel getting nervous, but you can't help yourself in past relationships, you've been told you're too clingy and always needed constant revaluation that your relationship will work out.

"Y/N, I need to talk to you. Could you wait outside the café for me?? Don't worry, I'll pay for the drink." Michael asks you as he gets up, taking his wallet out of his back pocket. While you walked out to the door, the cool winter air hit your face as you stood there waiting for Michael. Your brain was running through all the possibilities that might happen. Does he want to break up with you??? Does he not love you anymore??? You feel yourself getting more and more nervous by the second that's until you hear his voice.

"Y/N, I'm gonna cut to the chase, I don't think I love you anymore." Michael says, his voice not faulting one bit. He saw you stood there, the corners of your mouth lowering, your eyelids drooping. The only words you could muster up was.

"Why???" You muttered meekly. It took you every fibre in your being, not to break down crying and begging him to say. Michael let out a low sigh, he knew this wouldn't be easy for you.

"You're too clingy, and you always want to meet up with me. I don't think you fucking understand Y/N. I have a career, a life ahead of me, and you're distracting me from my dream with your constant need for fucking reassurance 24/7." Michael scoffs, not caring about your feelings at this point, he didn't want sugar coat his word, she needed to hear what he felt even if it meant crushing her heart into a million pieces.

"Michael, p-please don't— you can't do this to me, please, Michael, I fix myself!! I won't be clingy no more. Just please don't leave me." You beg, your voice trembling with desperation. Michael looks down at you, his eyes boring into yours.

"Sorry, guess we were just never meant to be."

It's been 2 weeks after breaking up with Michael, 2 weeks without hearing his voice, 2 weeks without him telling you he loves you. You sat there alone in your dark, somewhat gloomy bedroom. You're currently looking at old texts between you and Michael. All the promises, all stupid corny texts he would send you. You loved him too fucking much, and look what happened you got your heart broken again. You looked at your most recent texts, tears streaming down your face, your mascara running down your face.

'I love you, schön. I can't wait till I kiss that pretty face of yours again.' Was the last text you got from Michael. Where did it all go wrong??? Why can't someone just love you and just accept that you'd clingy??? Why does everyone have to abandon you??? Leave you??? Why are you always alone???

I HATE MYSELF RN. I had a request about how bllk boys would react walking in on us like doing ballet stretches or doing ballet and like we haven't told them so they'd be surprised , and I was writing, and by accident I posted it wouldn't let me private it, and I deleted it. CUZ IM SLOW BUT anways here's ur request, anon!!! (I'm acc stupid pls forgive me😞😞💔💔💔💔)

MESMERISED.

bllk boy x fem! ballerina! reader

THANK U ANON ILY🫶🫶🫶😇😇😇 SORRY AGAINNN

established relationship

probs ooc

characters: rin itoshi, shidou ryusei & michael kaiser.

RIN ITOSHI

Rin was coming back from practice he was earlier than usual. He texted you saying that he was coming home early, but you didn't answer he figured you were just sleeping like you usually were. As soon he got to the house, he walked to the living room to find you mid stretch. Your ballet shoes on the floor beside you. Shit, how were you going to explain this to Rin.

"Rin, look, I'm sorry for not telling you—" You say you felt bad for keeping it a secret from him. Rin didn't say anything back but just stood there in suprise.

"Why??? Why didn't you tell me??? It's not like I was going to hate you for it." Rin finally says, a very, very slight frown on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I actually haven't told anyone, I was scared people would make fun of me for ballet and doing ballet shows." You say it was true you were scared you get made fun of, so you ultimately kept it a secret.

"That's a stupid fucking reason, why would I make fun of you for ballet???" Rin looked down at you raising an eyebrow. You knew you should have told him sooner, but you were you'd always get nervous and pussy out of saying it to him. H

"I knowwww, I'm sorry." You say, frowning slightly. You felt guilty for not telling him. Really guilty.

"Just next time, let me see one of your ballet shows, alright???" He says, smiling slightly as he looked at you.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

Shidou was currently walking to your house. He was bored and wanted to hang out with you. As he walked to your house, he rang the doorbell but no answer, he rang the doorbell again but you still hadn't answered. Luckily, he may or may not have stolen your spare keys. He opened the door and called out to you.

"BABEEEEEEEE." He called out, but he was met with silence. He walked over to your living room to see you practing your positioning, headphones in which somehow blocked you from hearing him. You nearly felt soul leave your body when you saw him stood there.

"Ryu, what the fuck—" You say, but were immediately met with Shidou wrapping his arms around your waist, spinning you around.

"PRINCESSSS, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU DID BALLET?!?!?" Shidou says, grinning as he continues to spin you around. He continues spinning you for another couple of second before he stops.

"Ryu— I was planning on telling you sometime, I was." You say, letting out a sigh. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

"Yeah, yeah, doesn't matter now!!! Ya know, you should have told meeee I could have cheered my baby on." He says, still grinning, still hugging your waist.

"You can come to my next competition???" You say, smiling softly at him as he clung to you.

"REALLYYYYYYYY??????" He says as he starts to spin you around again, a wide ass grin still on his face.

MICHAEL KAISER

Michael was coming back from a photo shoot, some brand or something. For once, he was actually early coming home to you. He was tired from posing all day, so he couldn't wait to cuddle up with you. As soon as he opened the door, he caught you mid spin. You moved so gracefully that he couldn't help but stare at you he was practically mesmerised by you. As you finished, you saw Michael standing there.

"Micha, why are ya home so early?!?!?" You say, slightly surprised, your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. You haven't told Michael that you do ballet shows sometimes.

"Fucking hell angel, you move so gracefully, I think I might be hypnotised." Michael say, chucking slightly as he walks up to you, smirking to himself.

"Micha, I wanted to tell you I did ballet and ballet shows, but— it could distract you from your football—" You tried to explain yourself as best as you could but Michael cut you off.

"That doesn't matter, love. I want to watch your show, no matter what, you hear me." Michael says, his smirking growing wider. "Can't wait to tell everyone this pretty ballerina is mine."

(GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS FOR CHARACTERS IF YOU WANT A PART 2)

YALL THE WAY MY OBESSION WITH KAISER IS GETTING WORST AND WORST, IM OBESSEDDDDDDD WITH THIS MAN I LOVE HIM SO MUCH UGHHHGHHHHHHHHHHGHHH😍😍😍😍😍🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

(he 2nd after my bbg shidou)

I have read your blue lock x ballerina!reader

I loved it, I have a request Can you do blue lock x skating on ice reader

Like they were sitting with y/n in the living room and watching TV, But y/n She was scroll on her phone She didn't notice that her performance was playing on the TV

(Imagine the rest <3)

maybe: michael kaiser, rin itoshi, sea itoshi, any other character you want👀

OFCCCC ANONNNN🫶🫶🫶

DAZZLED

bllk boys x fem! ice skater reader

established relationship

THANK U ANONNN😘😘🤭🤭

probs ooc

characters: michael kaiser, rin itoshi, sae itoshi

MICHAEL KAISER

You and Michael were both in your living room. You were busy typing an essay on your laptop while Michael was skipping through the channels and landed on a sports channel that was broadcasting a show from last week. When you looked up at the TV, you saw yourself in the middle of your performance.

Fuck.

How are you going to explain this???

"N/N??? You never told me you did ice skating." Michael says, still looking at your performance, a slight smirk on his face.

"Look— you probably have better things to be doing than watching me perform." You say, trying to explain my you never told Michael. Hearing this made his smirk grow wider.

"Me??? Nah, I wouldn't want to miss my angles, especially when she looks so elegant."

RIN ITOSHI

You and Rin were on the couching cuddling together. Rin was mindlessly flicking through sports channels while you were on your phone. While flicking through the channels, a particular one caught his eye. It was highlight of you and one of your performances from a month ago. You didn't notice until you heard your voice, making you look up at the TV cringing slightly.

"Fuck." You muttered under you breath.

"N/N, why haven't you told me about this???" Rin says, his eyes boring into yours.

"Well, I kinda just forgot to tell and was nervous cause you might think it stupid and—" You say, starting to ramble on about why you kept your hobby a secret.

"Y/N, you know I wouldn't do that." Rin says, his voice quite soft. "I'd be up in the stands anytime I get, just so I can see you, love."

SAE ITOSHI

Sae was in the living room watching TV after coming home from practice he was pretty tired, so you allowed him to rest on the couch while you made dinner for the both of you. Something you didn't know was that Sae was currently watching one of your stellar performances on the TV while you were making food, blissfully unaware of what was happening in the other room.

When you were finally done, you walked to the living to tell Sae dinner was ready, but as soon as you saw yourself on the TV, your heart sank. You've kept this a secret from him for so long how you were gonna explain this to him.

"Baby, you know you're actually quite good, better than I thought. But, why haven't you told me about this, huh???" Sae murmurs, looking at you, as stood there frozen.

"Well, ahm— I uhm—" You slurred out, trying to think of an excuse, but you were drawing a blank.

"Well, I guess that doesn't matter anymore." Sae says, smirking ever so slightly. "Next time, bring me, yeah???"

(SOZZZ FOR THE SLOW UPDATE I BEEN VERY VERY BUSY BUT I WILL BE POSTING MORE SOON HOPEFULLY)

do a “okay he’s gone” smau :D

OKKAY POOKIE :333

OKAY, HE'S GONE????

features: shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, michael kaiser & sendou shuto

warings: fem reader!!! language

probz ooc

𐙚 SHIDOU RYUSEI

𐙚 OLIVER AIKU

𐙚 MICHAEL KAISER

𐙚 SENDOU SHUTO

mwah first smau💗💗

STOP THIS IS SO CUTEEEE🤧🤧🤧💗💗💗

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is. 

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.” 

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.” 

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

STOP OLIVERS 🤧🤧🤧

do you love me?;

tokrev ver.

synopsis: you/they wake them/you up at 3am.

ft + wc: isagi yoichi, michael kaiser, oliver aiku. around 2k

warnings: gn!reader, no set timelines, pet names, situationship (oliver) extremely! soft! oliver!!, slightly angsty (oliver), slight jealousy (kaiser), kaiser's is suggestive, none really for isagi! aaand that should be it!

a/n: i finally finished something!! i've been in such a rut not only with writing but with reading. TnT. hopefully i can write more once my semester is finished! anyways, i wrote oliver's in basically one sitting kicking my feet n screaming. also ily to zen cus i dropped like the entire fic in their dms LMFAOO. and ily to su for proofreading for me!! hope u enjoy ♡.

isagi:

you always saw the twinkle in isagi yoichi’s eyes when he talked about soccer. it was cute, charming, and part of what attracted you to him. when the two of you finally started dating, soccer was very much a part of your lives. you’d pop in at practice whenever you could and much to his delight, you’d even try to learn about his idols and the game. 

when you studied it on your own, it was fine, you could go at your own pace. but when isagi was there, it was a little different. he always had so much to say, so many techniques and teams to go over. he was like a walking soccer encyclopedia and you appreciated it, even when it got a little overwhelming. 

but tonight, as he talked your ear off about noel noa for the nth time, you found yourself dozing off. the black haired striker’s eyes were glued to the match he was playing on the tv, every so often rewinding or slowing down a play to explain it. you tried your best, really, to stay awake but it was nearing 3am and soon enough yoichi was speaking to himself. 

“man, that was sick!” he exclaims. he’s about to ask your opinion when he finally looks back to see your head in your arms, asleep. “…oh.” 

he rouses you out of sleep, shaking your shoulder gently. when you awaken you’re met with his pouting face. you blink off the drowsiness, rubbing your eyes. “sorry i dozed off…” you reach for the remote, but he stops you. “yoichi?” 

“do you love me?” you’re caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze. 

you nod, “of course i do.” 

“say it.” it’s not uncharacteristic for him to be intense at times, but the glint in his eye is something you usually only see when he’s playing. you didn’t think you’d see it now and it’s a bit amusing. 

“i love you, yoichi.” you say, a smug grin on your face as you poke at his pouty cheeks. “aww, are you upset?” 

snapping out of it, he waves your hand away, slightly turning while his cheeks blush bright red. “…no.” 

“my baby,” you coo, continuing to reach over and squish his cheeks, “i’m sorry for falling asleep, yoi.”

“it’s okay…” he mumbles, enjoying the attention, “i didn’t realize you were so sleepy.” 

“well, it is 3am…” you giggle, pointing to his alarm clock. 

it’s cute how fast his head whips around to look. “oh… my bad.” he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“don’t worry about it,” you shrug, before getting up and pulling at his hands. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?” 

but isagi pauses, conflicted, before glancing back at the tv. “… just one more play?” 

“yoichi!” you whine, the idea of cuddling with your boyfriend in bed being extremely appealing. 

“please?” he pleads, hands clasped, and you sigh, giving in to his doe eyes. 

“fine. one more. that’s it and then we’re going to bed.” you say, settling down next to him. but if you’re being honest, you’re never immune to isagi yoichi.

the light in his eyes as he rambles and talks to you about his favorite thing always overwhelms anything else. you love him, wholly and fully. and maybe that’s why you don’t mention anything as one play turns to two, which then turns into the entire match. not a single word escapes you as he loads up the next game, telling you “this next one is insane.” 

it’s isagi’s turn to fall asleep and as the sun peeks over the horizon, you press a peck to his cheek as you wrap a blanket over his shoulders. 

“good night, yoichi.” 

kaiser:

michael kaiser was many things, first and foremost a soccer player, secondly, a striker with a god complex and most importantly, your boyfriend. well, perhaps most important to you and although you’re mostly able to cast aside that doubt to love him fully, there are still moments when you just have to hear it. 

it’s 3am and kaiser’s in deep sleep, evident by the subtle snores coming from him. in contrast, you’re fully awake and sitting next to him, one finger trailing the expanse of his skin, from the curve of his cheek to the line of his jaw. he stirs slightly, but nonetheless stays asleep and that annoys you. 

“michael,” you whine, prodding at his cheek, “do you love me?” his eyelids flutter, face contorting to the singsong of your voice. 

“huh?” he responds, eyes opening and brows furrowing into a scowl you continue to prod. he grabs your hand, pulling it away from him. “what is it?” 

“do you love me?” you repeat, happily humming at his pretty face. 

he tsks before grumbling out a “nein.” he huffs before turning over. 

you pause, before scowling yourself. “what did you just say?” 

“nein.” he reiterates, closing his eyes. “goodnight.” 

you scoff, before shaking him again. “hey… seriously!” but it’s useless. kaiser’s decided it’s time for bed. truth be told, you should probably get some sleep too. but it’s annoying when you do feel like a side character in his story and not his co-lead. fine, you can be petty too. 

you round up your pillows, sighing and making sure to climb over him as you get off the bed. he catches your wrist as you try to leave, brow arched. 

“where are you going?” he asks, confused.

“the couch.” you deadpan. 

“why?” 

“i don’t wanna sleep next to someone who doesn’t love me.” you pout, hugging your pillow tightly. 

“it was a joke, liebe.” he sighs, pulling you down back into bed. “of course, i love you.” 

“hmm… you’re just pacifying me.” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and finally give you some of the affection you’ve been craving. 

and he does, rolling his eyes before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he makes sure to give you a few more afterwards, your giggle floating around his ears. “happy now?” 

“very.” you smile and he smiles back, but you can’t let him think he’s won just yet. “hey, i have a joke too.” 

“yeah? and you think it’s better than mine?” he teases and you grin even wider, nodding excitedly. “i’m all ears.” 

“okay. make sure you listen and like, really listen.” you command and he nods, moving his ear closer to your lips. “you’re a better player than isagi yoichi.” 

his face falls immediately and you burst out laughing, pushing off of him and grabbing your pillow again. you figure after your little stint, you’ll seriously be sleeping on the couch. 

“super funny, right? i should be a comedian.” you muse, before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “good night, emperor.” 

you turn to leave again, but kaiser’s quick to pull you down and underneath him. you yelp as he straddles you, pinning your wrists above your head. he’s frighteningly close, the tips of his blonde and blue hair hovering over your skin. 

there’s one thing about him that you don't know and it’s that he’ll never admit how soft you make him, how it’s actually he who melts at the sound of your voice. how it’s him who wants to hear nothing but endless praise from you, so maybe he did get a little mad at that joke.

“m-michael?” you squeak, squirming under his hold, “what are you doing?” 

“what do you mean? i’ve gotta remind you who the best striker in the world is.” he states and you recognize that look in his eyes. you didn’t think it’d rile him up this much. 

“babe, it was a joke!” 

he barks a laugh as you squirm harder underneath him. “it’s gonna be a long night, liebe.” 

oliver: 

“hey oliver, do you love me?” 

perhaps not the best time to ask, neon bright 3:00 AM displayed on your alarm clock lets you know that. but still, the beating of oliver aiku’s heart that drums through your ears prompts you to ask anyway. 

he’s asleep, or so you think, and shirtless, with the press of your cheek against his chest, his skin feels warm. shyly, you stay looking at the wall, sometimes trailing down to his limp hand. meanwhile, your fingers ghost over his skin, writing little “i love you”s and infinity signs like an incantation or a spell. 

“dumb question,” you continue, “i know you don’t.” you give a small smile, it’s how the situation between you two works. you can sleep together, hold hands, maybe even call each other ‘partners’, but you never breach that threshold. he’s always just out of reach.

but oliver is awake, eyes stirred open by the figure eights you’ve been writing on him. he’s been listening to you the entire time, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. 

“well… in case you were wondering, i think i love you,” you confess, your heart thumping wildly, “like a lot, actually. do you…  think i’m stupid?” you pause, before opening your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to answer, but oliver cuts you off. 

“not really.” he says, the hand that was resting on your waist, starting to stroke your skin. 

you freeze before pushing yourself up and off of him. “hey! h-how long have you been awake?” 

he smirks and you hate the way your heart flutters, “a while,” he sits up, “hey, i love myself too.” 

you deflate a little, it’s too much of the same, the same jokes and the brushing off of feelings. but you should know this by now, that he doesn’t love you. “yeah, just not me.” you look away, wishing he would lie to you just one time. “i should go-“ 

he reaches over, grabbing your chin between his fingers and leveling your gazes together. “i never said that.” 

you blink, wide-eyed and you’re not sure what to do or even what to say. and while you’re sure your heart is beating so fast you swear he can hear it, you’re also emboldened, mustering up the courage to ask, “never said what?” but your voice comes out small, whispery and featherlight. 

“that i don’t love you.” he says. he doesn’t break eye-contact, pretty two-tone eyes locked on yours. 

you can’t help your emotions, the way they swell up in you overwhelmingly, as if you’re drowning in them. 

“do you love me, oliver?” you’re too happy to be embarrassed by the break in your voice when you say his name, too fixated on the way he touches you so gently. it’s like he can’t hurt you now, no matter what he’s done before. 

he nods, the hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek as he strokes his thumb reassuringly over your skin. he catches the tears that fall, thinking that it’s much better to see you happy cry than when he does something stupid. 

“could you say it? please?” you sniffle, placing a hand over his, keening into his touch. 

he gives a breathy laugh out of nervousness, before he clears his throat and says it, loud and clear. “i love you, y/n.” 

you laugh through your tears, relieved, because all the time you spent wondering was okay and the wait was worth it. the way it rolls off his tongue is so natural and so warm it has your head spinning. 

he brings up his other hand, wiping away at the tears that continue to fall. “c’mon baby, you’re gonna cry all night?” he teases, squishing your cheeks between his hands. 

“‘m not dreaming?” you mumble, shaking your head, “this is real? you really love me?” 

maybe when you wake up in the morning it’ll be different. maybe he’ll be back to the same old oliver, the one who deflects and dodges all your questions. so maybe it is a dream. but, if this is a dream… do they always feel so good? and is it possible to stay asleep? 

he hums, before asking, “does this feel real?” as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. it’s sincere and authentic, the kind that makes your heart bloom. he pulls away, but only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. you nod and he grins, “good.”

IM (S)CREAMING RN 😍😍😍

(Credits: @joffyluy on tt)

IM LITERALLY UGHAHGAHHHHH

ATE LIKE ALWAYS POOKIE <333 SHAKESPEARE COULD NEVERRRR (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

˖⋆࿐໋ "PLEASE, COME BACK."

★ ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, don lorenzo, oliver aiku, isagi yoichi & otoya eita (honourable mentions). synopsis. your ex-partners are desperate for you and need you back.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 content warning. general: pet names (princess, baby, etc). sae: suggestive. ness: mentions of stalking, obsessive, creepy ngl. reo: parental humiliation, mother reader. oliver: cheating (duh), he gets slapped lmfao.

notes. total word count: 3.3k !! , angsty ? fem!reader .

୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

rainy days were the worst, you mused bitterly, recalling how rin had chosen a stormy day, much akin to this, to break things off with you.

you sneezed into your elbow, feeling the tiny droplets of water cascade down, peppering your bare skin relentlessly. you shivered as you sat on a random bench in the nearest park, regretting your decision to skip checking the weather app today.

wrapping your arms around yourself, cold and damp, you anxiously waited for a certain someone to pick you up.

suddenly, the freezing, stinging sensation of the raindrops on your skin ceased. you noticed a pair of legs in front of you and tilted your head up, meeting the familiar gaze of the man you had once called yours. his arm was outstretched, holding an umbrella above your head.

“y/n…” rin's voice was quiet, barely audible over the splattering rain.

your eyes widen, quickly darting down to stare at your empty lap. your fingers gripped the bench tightly. "hi," you mumbled, the word barely escaping your lips. this was probably the first time he had ever initiated a conversation with you; in your past relationship, that had always been your role. what was he doing here, anyway?

as if reading your mind, he spoke up awkwardly, “i just finished my afternoon jog…” he paused, shuffling his feet slightly. “do you want a ride?”

you finally looked up at him again, shaking your head subtly. “no, thank you... i'm waiting for someone right now.”

“ah, i see.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. he internally cursed himself for his clumsy attempt and for possibly making things worse by asking in the first place.

a few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between you, but when the tension was too unbearable to handle, he broke the silence.

“i'm… fuck, i'm sorry, okay?” he lowered his head, biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. “for everything in the past. for always ignoring you and neglecting you... if you want, we can–”

the loud honking sound of a car in the distance caught the attention of both you and rin. his brows furrowed in confusion as you stood up and walked a few steps towards the car, throwing him a faint smile.

“ah, it seems like my boyfriend is here.”

୨ৎ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

by no means was your relationship with sae horrible; in fact, it was quite the opposite. he consistently spoiled you with gifts and favourite snacks, treated you better than his teammates and the public, and always made you feel like the only girl in the universe.

so why had you both mutually agreed to call things off? the challenges of a long-distance relationship became overwhelming.

his frequent travels abroad for football games and the substantial timezone difference made regular communication difficult. every time you called, he would be asleep, and by the time you woke up, you’d see numerous missed calls from him.

nonetheless, it was safe to say that there were still lingering feelings between you both.

you sat down on your plush couch, turning on the television. immediately, the exclusive football channel that your tv always seemed to be tuned into appeared, and this time, it featured a live interview with your ex-boyfriend.

“sae…” you whispered softly upon seeing him.

it seemed as though the interviewer had already wrapped up the important questions, and was now delving into more personal topics.

“thank you, itoshi-san. next question, is there anything in particular that you enjoy doing?”

the football prodigy rolled his eyes and sighed audibly. with a blank expression, he replied, “my girlfriend.”

you felt your face heat up at the suggestive implication, pressing your hands to your warming cheeks– he had never had a girlfriend besides you and had promised he wouldn’t date anyone else. he was talking about you.

to make matters worse for your fragile heart, sae stared right into the camera lens with a subtle smirk, as if he knew you would be watching. the shallow stirring in your heart has confirmed what you already feared: you hadn’t gotten over him, and you knew you never would.

silence louder than a roaring engine filled the enclosure, before the interviewer broke the awkward stillness. “... s-sorry?” the lady was clearly caught off-guard, blinking at him once, twice.

sae scoffed impatiently, “did you not hear me the first time?”

“a-ah, yes, of course.” the woman stammered quickly, trying to recover her professionalism. “you... enjoy doing your girlfriend, yes.”

“used to,” he muttered under his breath, but the interviewer caught it.

“oh, i'm sorry,”

“yeah.”

unfortunately, the lady decided to press on, pushing her luck to pry more information from him. “so, itoshi-san, why did you break up with your girlfriend? could you provide your fans more information regarding your love li–”

he frowned deeply, shoving his hands into his pockets and abruptly standing up to leave, his manager pathetically following behind him. “shut up. you're annoying, leave me alone, ugly.”

later that day, you received a text message from sae.

'i need you back asap. i can help you settle here in spain and i'll pay for the plane ticket and shit.'

you would have never responded so quickly to a single text message had you still been in the long distance relationship. but, you still had a life here– your family, your childhood memories. you hesitated, leaving him on read for now, until you could think of something to reply with later.

a few weeks passed.

୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

in a way, you blame yourself for thinking you could play the ‘i can change him,’ game. despite this, your efforts, though minimal, were somehow significant. he became increasingly dependent on you, seeking your comfort whenever he was upset over a game or haunted by memories of his harsh past.

he particularly loved resting his head on your comfortable lap as you raked your fingers through his blond hair, or when you kissed the tattoo on his neck, assuring him that everything would be okay.

but it had become exhausting. too repetitive. irritating, even. his daily venting sessions had taken a toll on your mental well-being, and you simply could not bear it any longer. 

unfortunately, the breakup ended on bad terms, with both of you hurling insults and belittling each other.

you happened to run into him at the airport. quickly, you shifted your gaze away, hoping that he had not taken notice of you. but luck seemed to mock you, and you could already hear his distinctive footsteps approaching.

"hey," he said nonchalantly, tapping on your shoulder to get your attention. “look at me, talk to me.”

your expression wavered as you hesitantly met his gaze, pursing your lips unsurely. “hi, michael,” you muttered softly.

a shallow line etched between his brows. “michael? you know that's not my name. say it properly.”

“it's not micha anymore, though,” you retorted, turning and walking toward the airplane boarding aisle as the passenger announcement was made.

“tch,” he scoffed, quickly making his way to his team, who were boarding the plane from the exclusive gate reserved for the elite football team of bastard münchen.

it was unfortunate that he had to board the same plane as you, but this was just a layover for you- you still had another flight to take before reaching your final destination.

closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the circular window, drifting off to sleep. when you slowly opened your eyes, however, you were not met with the kind gaze of the old lady who had been sitting next to you.

instead, you found yourself staring into a pair of cerulean eyes. he rested his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on the armrest, watching you intently.

instantly, your eyes flutter fully open and a hurried gasp escaped your lips. “m-michael, you scared me,” you stuttered.

he rolled his eyes, turning his gaze away. “the old hag was more than happy to sit in the exclusive seats section,” he muttered simply. 

“i still haven't forgiven you,” he added, his eyes darting back to you. “but, fuck, come back already. stop being so stubborn.”

you sighed softly, taking his hands in yours. “michael, your rants aggravated my own anger issues. it literally wasn't good for my mental and emotional health.”

he mumbled something incoherent under his breath. when the plane finally descended one minute later, kaiser stood up, opening the overhead compartment above your seat, and handed you your two small suitcases.

placing his hand on your cheek, he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “...don't block my number. i still want to see you. and talk to you.”

you nodded reluctantly, thanking him for the suitcases. as you looked at him once more before walking away, you spoke softly,

“please, consider going to therapy, micha.”

୨ৎ 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

what's better than returning home, exhaustion from work gnawing at your bones, only to find your ex-boyfriend lounging comfortably on a couch in your living room as if he owned the place?

you froze mid-step, breath catching in your throat. “alexis, what the fuck?” you spat angrily.

“y/n!” he immediately sprang up, his face lighting up alarmingly as he flashes you an innocent smile.

he casually strides towards you– as if he had no concept of personal space– and holds up a familiar DVD case. “schatz, remember this? i thought we could watch it, since i remember it was your favourite…”

your pulse quickened, instinctively stepping back. but, ness intercepted, possessively coiling his arms around you and enveloping you in a firm hug. his grip tightened slightly as you attempted to withdraw– but he was careful not to hurt you.

ness buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “you'll watch it with me, won't you?” he smiled, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"alexis, how the fuck did you even get in?" you demanded, mustering the strength to break free and pry his arms off, snatching the remote and turning off the television.

he pouted, "i had the spare key you gave me! now won't you—"

“you're just as creepy and obsessive as ever,” you shot back, feeling intruded and unsettled, “there's a reason i broke up with you.”

his expression crumbled and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “d-don't say that, remember all the good times we had? we belong together!” his voice quivered with desperation as he leaned pathetically against the wall.

“yeah, i thought so too,” you countered, “until i caught you, lurking in the corner of my eye, watching me with a friend at the mall.” you gestured towards the door. “leave, now, and give me back the damned key.”

tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he reluctantly handed back the key. his fingers lingered against yours for a moment longer than necessary. he stepped out of your apartment and threw a weak smile at you over his shoulder. he whispers, “i love you, and i always will.”

you slammed the door shut.

୨ৎ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎

you heard the doorbell ring as you were occupied with chopping tiny pieces of carrots for your young daughter. with a sigh, you set down the knife on the cutting board, wiping your hands on your apron and reluctantly heading towards the door.

there was no need to check the peephole; you instinctively knew it was your ex-husband, reo.

his monthly visits to hand over the child support had become a begrudgingly predictable routine. you swung the door open, and immediately, his desperate gaze met yours.

“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off with an uninterested glare.

“she's on the play mat in the living room. put the check on the table.” you said indifferently, already turning back toward the kitchen. before you could take a step, his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. it's nothing you didn't expect, however; it happened every single month.

“reo, let go,” your voice was firm yet tired.

“baby, please,” he insisted, pulling you towards his chest and embracing you tightly. you felt the warmth of his body against yours, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “i miss you. i really do. do you know how painful it is for me to slowly watch you become a stranger?”

you remained motionless for a moment before shaking your head, gently pushing him away. “no... just no,” you asserted softly, “your parents always humiliated me during our marriage— whether it be in front of guests at social events or large family dinners. i've never felt enough. and worse, you've always ignored it.”

his face twisted into one of guilt as he attempted to draw you back into his embrace. “i promise i'll–”

“reo!” your strangled voice accidentally yells out. “put the check on the table and leave!” the words leave your mouth impulsively in frustration.

you quickly brought a hand to your mouth, then clutched your chest, taking a deep breath to calm yourself as tears welled up in your eyes. in a quieter tone, you pleaded, “reo, please, just leave…”

albeit reluctantly, he complied, retreating with a heavy heart. but, as per the habitual routine, he returned the next month, pleading for your forgiveness and begging to be taken back.

୨ৎ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎

dating nagi was tedious, and even that was an understatement.

"seishiro, i'm seriously considering blocking you if keep calling me every single day, begging me to take you back."

you exasperated, frustration clear as you sat on your bed with the phone on speaker, going through your nighttime skincare routine. you could hear nagi exhale deeply on the other end.

“... 'mm, angel, please,” he whined, his voice growing louder and more desperate. “i miss you, i'm all alone, my apartment's a mess and—”

you scoff, tossing the moisturizer tube onto your bed as you swabbed some onto your face. “your apartment's a mess? i wonder why that is… almost like your girlfriend was doing all the work around the house for you?”

a soft, frustrated groan escaped his lips at your sarcasm. he swallowed hard, his voice cracking, “listen, baby, 'm sorry for takin' you for granted, i want you back in my arms, i want to cuddle w'you like we used to. please, forgive me.”

a long pause hung heavy in the air, his breath hitching in his throat as he waited for your reply, hoping that you'd use what's left of your love for him–if any–to forgive him and return. with a tired sigh, you finally spoke up.

“... no, seishiro. i'm tired. being with you felt like a chore, to be honest. i was the one looking after you– making sure you ate your breakfast and lunch, doing your laundry that's scattered everywhere in your apartment, even reminding you to get off your video games. i'm not your mother...”

you let out all your pent-up frustration once and for all, hoping this would finally put an end to his persistent calls. it was clear you had reached your limit, knowing deep down that you deserved someone who appreciated your time and effort. 

“seriously, why don't you get yourself a maid? dating you was a hassle.”

you stated firmly before hanging up on him.

“dammit, angel…” nagi sighed defeatedly, his slumped body flopping down onto his bed. he lazily tossed his phone aside, feeling drained and overwhelmed. “i'm too tired for this.”

୨ৎ 𝐃𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎

“pleaase, come backkk,”

great. the last thing you had wanted today was to run into your ex as you stood in line at the popcorn stand. you wished the ground below you would rupture and swallow you whole as he clung onto you shamelessly, drawing the attention of those around you.

“please, baby, i need you!” he whined. you felt the embarrassment from his dramatic display heat up your cheeks, shifting uncomfortably as you mouthed apologetic words to the vendor lady.

“stop it, get off me, you're embarrassing me!” you hissed softly, trying to push his head away. his grip was too strong, maintaining his hold on you as his grin widened, revealing his shiny set of golden teeth.

“only if you get back with me?” he bargained, stepping back anyway as he sensed your growing irritation (and embarrassment).

you crossed your arms, shooting him an accusatory glare. “no way in hell. and you don't need me— you were after my money all along, weren't you?”

“t-that's... come on, don't be like that,” he stammered, his face paling as he avoided eye contact.

“you've only ever seen me as your personal walking credit card, hm?” you continued, “thank you, you've drained me of all my money.”

he watched as you received your medium-sized popcorn bucket, thanking the vendor with a polite nod before turning to leave. the lady called out his name, his own popcorn waiting on the counter, still unpaid for.

his head snaps back to you, that absurd, signature smirk curling on his lips, “wait, y/n, aren't you going to p–”

without turning to face him, you muttered under your breath, “no, i'm not paying for your popcorn.”

୨ৎ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

you felt a large pair of hands gently rest on your shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. you stopped swirling your glass of wine, tilting your head up to meet a pair of beautiful, heterochromic eyes.

unfortunately, those eyes belonged to your fucking cheater of an ex.

“don't touch me, jerk,” you spat, cocking your head back down as you brought the glass to your lips and took a sip of the crimson drink.

he chuckled lowly, patting your head before shamelessly taking a seat beside you. wrapping his arm around the backrest of the sofa, he pulled you closer.

“c’mon, princess, don't be like that,” he winked, taking a sip of his own drink. he paused as he took in your irritated expression. “...are you really still mad at what happened a year ago?”

you shot him a dirty glare, and he immediately raised his hands in front of him in mock surrender. “sorry, sorry, i was only kidding.”

you finally downed the wine, standing up from the soft comfort of the sofa. before you could move away, his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you back onto the couch, causing you to lean onto him with your hand on his chest.

“okay, but seriously, baby,” he said, delicately gripping your chin between his fingers and leaning in until his lips hovered right above yours. “i really messed up, i'm sorry, i swear she didn't mean anything, you're the one for m–”

“what the fuck do you think you're doing?!” you yelled, slapping his cheek hard enough to whip his head toward the dance floor where numerous women in skimpy outfits were dancing. his gaze lingered on their movements for a while before he felt you pulling away from him.

“yeah, i'm sure you're toootally torn up about it, huh?” you scoffed sarcastically, “keep your eyes wandering, i can see you're overflowing with regret.”

“baby, i only care for y–”

“your sincerity is blinding.”

˗ˏˋ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 ˎˊ˗

𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 would never push you to the point of discomfort or pressure. instead, he’d approach you casually, genuinely apologizing for any past incidents that might have upset you enough to end things. if you both decided on a mutual break up, then he would definitely try to preserve your relationship to at least that of friends. his main focus would be rebuilding trust between you two, hoping that time and space would allow you both to reconcile in the future. overall, it would be very unlikely for him to verbally express how desperate he is for you, but subtle physical touches are a different topic.

𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐀 would literally show up at your doorstep, begging on his knees for you. he'd be desperately pleading for your forgiveness– he really didn't want to reveal that he had initially been dating you because of a dare, or rather, a bet from his friends. it just slipped out forcefully. he just really, really, really needed that ps5. despite the bet, his feelings for you had genuinely developed over the five-month dating period. however… to earn that prize, he was required to expose his original intent, resulting in heartbreaks, tears, insults, and many “i hate you”s from your side.

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

summary: michael kaiser is a coward who needs a little incentive to finally confess his feelings towards you.

tags: f!reader, roommates to lovers, fluff, falling in love, kissing (more like, making out), jealousy, mutual pinning, possessive kaiser.

wc: 1.7k

notes: i do not know what possessed me into writing this, but man, it needs to do it again.

something you've realized early on in your friendship with kaiser is that he's a coward.

he hates spiders, makes you throw the trash out at night, and screams whenever something falls out of its place because he thinks the apartment is haunted.

in the year that you've spent as his roommate, you've come to terms with it. he's nice, cleans his dishes, and helps with the laundry. he keeps the noise down to a minimum and cooks you breakfast when he isn't preoccupied with practice.

another perk of living with him is the fact that he buys you things, expensive things. perfume. flowers. the dress you were eyeing online. your favorite snacks. a limited edition plushy you've been wanting since forever.

anything.

you realized early on that michael kaiser is rude to other people, scoffing and smirking as if he's above everyone else. he mutters comments about them under his breath, thinking you can't hear. he bosses people around, looking at them like they're ants. a waste of his time.

he isn't like that with you.

for one, he's sweet. if the gift giving isn't enough, he goes out of his way to seek you out after his matches. he asks for massages, for small pecks and fleeting touches. he video calls you when he's away, never forgetting to wish you a good morning and sweet dreams through voice notes. all with a grin on his lips.

you aren't blind. you know those are his ways of expressing affection. you just wish he'd finally man up and admit his feelings.

"so, how was the date?"

kaiser's sitting on the couch of your living room, remote control in hand as he stares at the tv, some random soccer match showing across the screen. his hair is wet, and he's got his glasses on. his posture is relaxed, seemingly nonchalant as he asks the question.

you know him enough to see him gritting his teeth even through his bored expression.

"good evening to you too," you laugh, airy as you take off your heels. putting them next to the door, you drop your keys in the sage bowl, letting them clink against his. "have dinner yet?"

leaning against the door, you can see the fine lines of his shoulder tense. the kaiser you're used to is a show pony, the person sitting on your couch isn't. he almost looks like a stranger with his neutral expression and bored eyes. such a difference to the guy who usually comes running whenever you walk through the entrance.

"i ordered takeout." he motions to the plates littered around him, pointing at the fridge. "i saved you some of your favorites."

internally, you flutter. happy to know that the kaiser you know, and love, isn't completely gone.

"thank you, that's very sweet of you."

he's adamant on keeping his eyes off you and on the screen, his shoulders becoming even more tense as you open your arms wide.

"no hug for today?" there's a hopeful smile on your lips as you say the words. happy to finally have everything the way they should be.

only to be shut down with a single side eye from him.

"what?" he asks lowly, almost conceding in his words. almost like your presence bothers him, like all those other people do. like you aren't special to him anymore. "did your date dump you? and now you're looking to me for comfort?"

the words are icy, and he gives no room for rebuttals. not when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smirk.

it's the first time he's used his persona on you. one he uses to hide away from the world. you decide that you hate it.

"no. actually, he was sweet," you bite back, glaring when you decide that enough is enough. "asked to hold my hand and carry me on his back."

you watch as his face darkens, his eyes clouding over until you can't recognize the pretty blue color they usually spark in. you're riling him up, making him angry. and it's working.

"why? jealous?"

it's the question you've been dying to ask for months now. he flirts like you're more than friends, buys you gifts like you're something special to him, shuts down every time you go on a date with someone that isn't him.

but when it comes down to it, you not his to have. not when he's too much of a coward to do anything about it.

"and if i am?" his words surprise you. it's the first time he's come close to revealing his true feelings in months. they're said with an underlying tone of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. like you're already his and no one else's. "what's it to you?"

"oh, you know, just happy you're finally being a man and talking about your feelings."

you shouldn't have said that. with the way his eyes are practically glaring, you don't know what else to say. you look up when he stands, practically looming as he stalks to you.

"you're so-"

his words are interrupted by his cursing. he glares down at you, pushing his hand next to your head, pining you against the door. you gulp, watching as he practically shakes in anger.

"du machst mich wahnsinnig, liebling. ich glaube nicht, dass ich mich zurückhalten kann, wenn du weiterhin so eine göre bist."

translation: you're driving me mad, darling. i don't think i can hold back if you continue to be such a brat.

"he even asked to kiss me too," you say, your voice trembling under his dark gaze. your sweet and funny roommate is gone, replaced by the man you see in front of you. your heart is pounding against your chest, in both fear and excitement for what he'll do when you finally push him off the edge. "he-"

kaiser surges down, cutting your sentence off with a kiss.

your eyes widen when your head hits the door from his force. a shiver running down your spine when he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head, gently caressing the area. closing your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

he relaxes at that, pulling back slightly only to swoop back in, keeping you in his arms for as long as he wants. by the time he finally breaks the kiss, you're both leaning against each other.

you've never seen his eyes as happy as they are now.

"ich bin mir sicher, dass ich besser küsse als er," he says, smug as he takes in the way you're panting. he chuckles, placing his hands on the side of your neck to pull you into another kiss. "richtig, liebling?"

translation: i'm sure i kiss better than he does. right, darling?

"i don't know what you're saying but yes. okay. sure." you nod, head still hazy as his hands start to stroke your cheek. "if it's something bad, then no."

he chuckles, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. he keeps you rooted in your spot, his eyes darting back between your eyes and your lips. "you're mine now, yeah? no one else gets to kiss you the way i did."

"about time," you say with a roll of your eyes when your breathing finally settles. you play with the hair around his shoulder, slightly tugging at the strands. "it went awful, by the way. he made me walk 3 kilometers because his car broke down."

his hands stop, freezing as he looks at you incredulously. "but you said-"

"i lied," you say with a cheeky grin. you lift yourself onto your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek as an apology. "just wanted to see how you'd react."

you giggle when he groans, letting him settle in the crook of your neck. "you little minx. next time, call me. i'll pick you up and drop you off."

there's the kaiser you know and love.

"mihya." the nickname is odd on your lips, new and completely unrefined. you watch as he perks up, his eyes practically shining as he looks down at you. guess you'll just have to use the nickname on him more often from now on. "you're a terrible driver. you'd be picking me up at the mall and dropping us off at the gates of heaven."

"well, at least that means an angel will finally return home."

you smack his shoulder for that.

bonus:

you're walking down the stairs of your university a few weeks later, laughing at something your friend said when the sound of squealing fills your ears.

a sleek black lamborghini sits right in front of you.

you blink, taking in the over-the-top showcase before your eyes land on the figure right beside it. you snort as kaiser winks at you from his spot, still taking his time to soak up the limelight.

"did you have to come all the way here to be a showoff?" you greet him with a kiss to his cheek that kaiser visibly grins at.

ever since getting together, he's been hogging you all to himself. he insists on driving you to and from wherever you need because your time together is worth everything to him. "you are so petty. making sure no one even thinks of asking me out on another date?"

"you like it." the way he says it is breathless, like it's a secret he's been keeping to himself for a long time. "you like me."

who knew michael kaiser turned out to be such a corny romantic?

you snort, tugging him into the car before he makes any more of a scene. "i do."

he grins at that, revving the engine as loud as he can, smirking when a group of freshmen cheer and wave to him from behind the car.

"good." he takes your hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. he holds it as he backs out of the university and into the open street. "be prepared because i'm about to spoil you even more."

LIGHTHEADED

summary. your boyfriend, kaiser, can’t bring himself to be patient when it comes to you.

featuring. michael kaiser

cw. 500+ wc, gn!reader, suggestive, established relationship

You find yourself in a predicament.

The wall behind you is cold. The hard cement pressing onto your back almost gives you shivers. Then you think, is it really the wall? It might also be the suffocating space of the janitor’s closet, or how sweat trickles down your body due to the lack of air.

Though all your possibilities lead to one. The fact that Kaiser is pinning you to the wall. His tattooed hand at your nape, squeezing slightly to hold you while his other rests on your waist. His hold is firm yet intoxicating, it’s addicting. It makes you weak.

Your arms are around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as your lips slot against his. It’s hot, you think, the atmosphere around the tight space of the closet thickens the tension between the two of you.

Kaiser traces his hands on your curves all while nibbling on your lower lip. You let out a soft sound, it’s quiet but it fuels his thoughts like wildfire.

“W—wait, M—mihya..” You mutter against his lips, the German grins slightly at your state. How strong is his effect on you?

“Hm? You want me to stop, angel?” He teases, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. He notes the way your grip on his hair tightens just a little bit. You’re adorable, he thinks, your eyes hazy from his assault and torments.

Your breath hitches, “A—ah, you.. still have practice, M—mihya..” You stutter when he presses against a spot on your neck. It’s true, Ness must have been going around to find him right now before Noa yells at his ear and threatens him to not lose his spot as an ace.

The German raises an eyebrow at that. He assumed that you forgot about the fact that he has practice right now given your state though it seems that you're stronger than he thinks. He makes it a challenge to himself to make you completely dizzy, your thoughts full of him and him only.

“Ah, angel, you’re always keeping me on track.” Kaiser chuckles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he presses more kisses to your neck, his lips are like featherlight touches. They make you feel lightheaded. “Wanna have your boyfriend as the number one striker in the world, hm?” He teases.

Your voice quivers, “N—noa is gonna kill you…” You shut your eyes when he darts out his tongue to trace your neck. “Stop, M—mihya… we’re in public and might get too far..” You breathe out, your knees weakening, if it wasn’t for strong grip, you might have slipped already.

Kaiser hums, his hands continuing to trail on your curves. “Mm, you’re right, angel..” He says, voice dripping with honey.

“Yet something is telling me that you don’t care about that at all. Look at you, you’re a mess.” He chuckles and retreats to look at you in the eyes, his eyes dark with a hint of lust. Your hands scramble to tug at his collar and his fingers tip your chin as he leans closer to you.

“Say it, darling.” He flashes a smirk as he watches your bruised lips part slightly. Your heart beating rapidly.

“Are you sure you want me to stop?”

Michael Kaiser — Voyeur to Belonging

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 5.3k TYPE: Humor, Slice of life/domestic fluff (its technically a roommate setting) WARNING(S): None? NOTE(S): Reader character is an alien. Yes you read that right. A shapeshifting alien of some sort. The narrative is non-linear

Birthday

There was a coconut on the kitchen counter top.

Kaiser was confused. Most days he was disoriented on account of your incomprehensible behavior anyway, but this was new. You stood there, caressing it, and he wasn’t really sure what it was supposed to achieve while he watched you. Of course, there was other bullshit too, but the coconut was the most attention grabbing.

He didn’t bother asking. He also didn’t bother announcing himself to begin with when he first entered, since he had come home not long ago, and mainly because he was impolite. It was fine because you didn’t have any standard conventions about courtesy.

Instead of raising any valid questions, he went to shower.

Not like he cared to converse — when he wouldn’t immediately see you upon entering, he’d walk around looking for you because the thought you disappeared somewhere without notice kind of irritated him, and then he’d spot you and he’d be calm again. And then he wouldn’t explain what it was all about. Maybe you thought it was some funny human behavior he was exhibiting. The notion was appealing.

Though Kaiser was a bit over the top and didn’t have much consideration towards the water bill which made showering an entire event for him, it couldn’t have taken that long for him to emerge. He still had the towel on by the time he stepped back into the kitchen, curiosity eating at him. What was the coconut for? Surely it was something moronic and frivolous, but he was too impatient to keep pretending inquiring was beneath him.

Any intrigue he was feeling dropped to the floor and dissolved into the puddle he’d created by moving around while still wet when his brain processed the sight in front of him.

There was… a lot of powder(?) everywhere. Mostly on the kitchen counter and then some.

“What the hell,” said Kaiser, gesturing. “What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t really like getting angry over stupid shit like this, the kind of problem which could easily be fixed. It reminded him of his dad, but then again how the fuck was he supposed to stay calm in this situation. In the face of his own ire, Kaiser was nauseous.

You turned around to respond and seemed rather joyous. His jaw clenched further, his forehead wrinkled more.

“My preparations,” you said.

“Your preparations,” he repeated. “For what?”

“The cake.”

Kaiser pinched the bridge of his nose.

“The recipe said it needs ‘coconut-pecan frosting,’” you continued even though he did not want an elaboration.

It occurred to him what had happened. Usually it would be more obvious, but the shock was so severe, he didn’t contemplate the situation as he was focusing his energy on not blowing a gasket. “You can buy the ingredients for that at the store-”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“-not grind it down. Would you hunt and skin a fucking chicken in cold blood if you wanted to make wings?!” He was raising his voice now.

The volume grated on your nerves and you raised your hands as if to placate him, backing off. Your reaction didn’t mollify him in the slightest. “It’s more convenient and it costs no money.”

“How is it more convenient?” There was a loaded silence. Kaiser didn’t understand where you got a whole coconut to begin with, but that was besides the point. “Why were you trying to make a cake anyway? ‘Cause if it’s some shitty new hobby you’re taking up again, do it away from my house.”

You blinked at him twice in this slow, deliberate manner, scrutinizing him as if he was stupid for not understanding what the purpose of this was. Then you said, “For Micha’s birthday.”

Even though you’d flinched away from him and he kept yelling without a care, that was what it took for him to immediately deflate and feel like shit. If anything, he was flustered and unsure, all that bravado for naught. You wanted to celebrate with him — wanted to do something for him. Remembered the date, even. His hand wrapped around his throat unconsciously, albeit without squeezing.

It wasn’t an extraordinary or special occasion. You technically celebrated with him last year too, but you didn’t know what that was all about. Wherever you came from, you claimed birthday parties weren’t a ‘practice’ there. The two of you were similar, in a way.

“Listen, so, I looked up ‘German cake’ because you claimed you were from Germany. The website said to use coconut-pecan frosting.”

“I don’t claim I was from Germany, I really am, and I still am, it’s not past tense,” he said, trying to distract from his regret by nitpicking.

“Well, anyway,” you beamed at him, and then you reached out towards him, and then you embraced him with the skills of a natural, even though that was something else you said wasn’t a ‘practice,’ “happy birthday, Micha!”

He let go of his neck to stiffly wrap his arms around your back. There was coconut powder on your fingers still, and it was sticking to his bare skin in clumps and copious amounts because you were touching him since he was still wet. It was a funny ploy, intentional, like you were checking how far you could go with an abused dog, trying to see if it’s comfortable with you yet. If giving him affection was enough for him to overlook anything in the world.

Kaiser was enjoying your hug, but he didn’t say anything about it beyond an ungrateful sounding thanks after the birthday wish. It was obvious, though, in the way he held onto you tighter the moment you tried to separate from him.

“But what about the cake? Should I scrap it…?”

“You can burn down the kitchen if you want to,” allowed Kaiser, both generous and unwise. Imprudent in that he was trying to flex on an alien in a roundabout way — look, I am rich, I do not care about superficial things like the kitchen, and coming from the guy who almost threw a tantrum over it.

The development pleased you, however, because you cheered and pecked him on the cheek. He flushed under the attention. You always found it fascinating, the way his skin could change colors, even if the shift wasn’t so dramatic. “Yay,” you said as an afterthought, “I love fire.”

The experiment was a success. You could get away with pretty much anything as long as you played your cards right.

To Kaiser’s surprise, the cake even ended up coming out delicious. Again he did not compliment you on it.

Dye

Kaiser was in the bathroom, which was a place he spent a lot of time in. But instead of admiring himself (that was what he called his creepy staring at his reflection), he was doing something to his hair. He was applying a mysterious liquid to it and he’d tied it up strangely. You hoped it wasn’t a new look he was trying.

“Do you need something?” he asked, not looking at you.

You stepped closer. Not knowing how to formulate a more specific question on the matter, you asked, “What is this behavior?” and then gestured vaguely at what he was doing.

For a second, Kaiser halted in surprise at the strange wording. “I’m refreshing my dye.”

“Ah,” you said with a smile, “I thought it was natural?”

“Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“You are deceiving.”

“Hopefully it wasn’t too big of a heartbreak.”

“Are you insecure your hair isn’t blue, Micha?” you asked. “The advice columns always say you should just be yourself.”

There was a good chance you were mocking him, but due to the possibility you were genuinely concerned about him, he wrinkled his nose to make a show of his disdain towards your ignorance and said, “No, it’s not a self esteem thing. Who the fuck is insecure their hair isn’t blue?”

“Are you trying to signal you’re poisonous?”

“I’m not some shitty animal,” he said in earnest, even though this confirmed you were messing with him.

“Do you cut it by yourself too?”

“Yes.”

“Why, can’t you afford a barber?”

Kaiser’s eye twitched in irritation. “I don’t like strangers touching my head.” It came out sounding stupid in relation to a hairstylist, but he hoped you wouldn’t question it.

“Ah, ok.” You smiled in an unsettling way. Kaiser tried to concentrate. There was a long bout of silence before you delivered the next ego killer of a question, “If you cut it by yourself, why would you willingly shape it like that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” He crossed his arms and tilted up his chin, upturning his nose in a snobby gesture, before he ran his fingers through his hair. “In fact, I think it’s unique and charming, and one of my best features.”

You grimaced as you watched. “Micha, you’re totally messing it up! Don’t move like that! It’s dripping everywhere and you’re getting it all over your fingers.”

He, too, blinked like an owl, and let go of his strands at a dramatically slow pace, and then he stared at the tips of his fingers coated in blue like they were burned. “Fuck.” Then he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and realized he had smeared dye where he was supposed to still be blond. “Fuuuuck.”

You stood there, useless. As sympathetic as you were to his predicament, you didn’t want to contribute anything.

Kaiser narrowed his gaze at you anyway and said, “Maybe instead of standing there distracting me, you should help me fix it.”

“Ah. The mystic workings of the concoction evade me.”

“They clearly don’t!”

You inched away from him until you were out of the door. Kaiser bared his teeth and glared at the spot even after you’d long vacated it.

Massage

Your human was ill-tempered and prone to sulking.

Often he was unhappy or had an attitude for no discernible reason. Most days, on average, he could find an opportunity to turn at least three interactions into something painful.

The internet was an unintelligent place, which made it easy to parse through (as long as you didn’t take everything said at face value, which you learned after you warned him that his deodorant was going to give him breast cancer; apparently people do not fact check before publishing and lying is not a punishable offense). All you had to do was type, and there — information. You were used to the more reliable system back home, but those networks had nothing to offer on this culture, so…

Anyway, you searched for inspiration for what you could do. It was obvious Kaiser was susceptible to kindness and you thought maybe you could coax him into being more pleasant, at least occasionally. So, what you looked up was ‘nice gestures.’

A lot of the results seemed impractical: babysit for free — you could not find a baby; donate — all the items in the house were his so you did not see the point of donating them to him; listen — you listened to him daily; acknowledge his efforts — he looked at you as if you were a weirdo when you started calculating the trajectory of that magnus-impact-whatever thingy and then gave him a fake diploma for a physics degree.

But then you came upon a sensible suggestion, which was to give a massage. It seemed applicable, since he was an athlete and all. Kaiser even agreed to it without making a fuss.

He was on his stomach, lying on the bed with his face half-hidden in the pillow so you wouldn’t be able to see if he did anything embarrassing. You sat on top of him and tried being gentle even though you were tempted to dig your fingers in his scapula just to check if he would scream. 

Things were going well, he was even relaxed, until you asked, “Hey Micha, do you get massages?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” Though they were usually the painful sports ones and he wasn’t about to admit to feeling pain in front of you or anything else embarrassing.

“Is it like some kind of mating ritual?”

“What the hell?” he asked, bemused. “Of course the fuck not.”

“So you’re not into the massage therapist?”

“No! Why would you think that? Do you find it erotic, you strange creature?”

“No. I watched this video where a bird was trying to seduce another bird with a silly little dance. Thought it might be something like that.”

“What kind of conclusion is that?” he asked. You could tell even through the muffle that he was gritting his teeth. You decided to massage his face after you’re done with this, since he made those ugly expressions so often and probably had tension. Maybe the rigidity was making him easy to vex. “I swear, you assume such stupid shit, it appalls me.”

Kaiser drifted off to sleep mid complaining about your apparent cluelessness and woke up in a good mood a few hours later. However, the bad side effect was that he started demanding massages any time he perceived things weren’t going his way, so then you had to think of a way to trick him out of his giving orders addiction.

Clothes

“I like wearing yours, though,” you whined. It was unbefitting for someone at a luxury store, but then again what did you care.

Kaiser’s eyebrows pinched together. It was obvious the employees were judging you both considering the brain dead conversation you’d been having, but he had a different problem entirely. Like a toddler who didn’t want to share his toys at the playground, he hissed, “They’re my clothes, not yours! I’ll get you some.”

You pouted. The action was extremely ungrateful and petulant considering not everyone had a celebrity begging to let them buy them expensive new clothes, but as already established, you didn’t care that you were trifling. “Is there a robe or something, at least?”

“No, there aren’t any robes.” He was already exhausted, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging his temples.

You rolled your eyes and faked a loud yawn.

“At least try one out.” Kaiser pulled out some random miscellaneous item from the rack you were arguing in front of and shoved it into your hands with this expectant look on his face.

Deciding to humor him, you moved to strip. Thankfully it didn’t come to that since Kaiser stopped you, pulling your top back down before you’d even gotten to exposing your midriff.

“You’re uncivilized. Go to the changing rooms.”

“Such a pathetic, prudish society,” you said as if everyone else was wrong. From your perspective it was probably true.

“It’s not prudish, it’s called public indecency and I don’t want to associate with a reprobate.”

“That’s a new one, Micha! I haven’t heard it before.”

He rolled his eyes and ushered you in the direction of the changing rooms. His gaze followed after you while you meandered there, disinterest in the affair palpable. Ingrate.

Kaiser picked a few more clothes he wanted to see you try on. When he turned around, the assistant nearby was looking at him strangely. He remained stoic and went on standing tall and proud as if she was the weird one.

Origin

Kaiser liked to brood on the balcony because he thought that was a productive and angsty activity, fit for a troubled intellectual. You did not understand the point (or even what he was doing in particular), so sometimes you hung around him indifferently. Before growing better acquainted with each other he ignored you, although it was nice to have an audience for his mental movie anyway. He was the type of person who enjoyed things like that.

As time passed and he got more used to your presence, though, he’d sit down with you and talk to you instead. That day he asked you, “You never told me, how’d you end up here?” … With me?

“Micha is rich with a big house!” you said with a grin. His spirits dampened — the reasoning was practical, but he would’ve preferred something more poetic maybe. You went on, “I thought I could hide in the vents, but you found me after I snuck in. Whoops.”

He made a face. “You’re such a weird fucking… creepy crawly.” Then he cursed himself because he would’ve preferred to be more articulate.

“And you are a toddler.”

“Did you try anywhere else before my place, though?”

“Yeah. The guy found me before I could hide and called me a naked homeless bum! And then he tried to beat me with a shovel.”

“You must be bad at hiding,” said Kaiser in a tone as if you were beneath him, unconcerned by this information. Then an odd detail stood out to him. “I’m pretty sure you were dressed when I first saw you.”

You smiled at him, but did not elaborate on where you got those stained clothes from back then.

There was an implication.

Morning

You hung onto Kaiser while he brushed his teeth, hugging him from the back. Usually you slept in way after him, but there were rare occasions you’d barge in on him in the mornings, if he rustled too much and disturbed you. Again, for someone who preached that this was not a ‘practice,’ you sure did it a lot.

“Micha, why do you brush so hard? I don’t believe it’s any more effective.”

“Shut up,” he said, making an effort to go slower and less aggressive now that you’d pointed it out. “Don’t watch me. I don’t accept constructive criticism,” he added when you didn’t respond.

Though you changed your appearance to look human (albeit still a bit uncanny in a way he couldn’t quite place — maybe his knowledge that you were extraterrestrial hindered his view), the inherent differences between you and him were the most obvious when you were in contact skin to skin. He wasn’t warm to begin with, but your skin was so much cooler, it was enough to startle him if he didn’t see you coming. There was a contrast in texture, too.

Your hand rested over his chest while you began leaving feather light kisses over his nape and then down to his shoulder. Kaiser was annoyed because he was getting goosebumps. “You’re so clingy sometimes,” he complained.

“Your heart always starts beating faster when I kiss you,” you said. “It’s cute.”

“Stop observing me like a scientist.”

You hugged him tighter and kissed him a bit more firmly. “I wanna bite you real hard past the skin and suck your blood. You’d probably be one of the sweeter ones.”

What a creepy thing to say at seven in the morning. Kaiser had to respect your dedication to the craft at this point.

“Leech,” he said with disdain, though to be honest he was kind of flustered. “I thought you’re supposed to be an alien, not some lame vampire.”

“What? You have blood-sucking creatures here, don’t you, Micha? There is hematophagy in nature.”

“That’s not really the point.”

“I guess so,” you said.

Kaiser was partly annoyed because he was getting butterflies in his stomach, which was stupid and childish. It was clear you wanted to taste him more than you already had, and while usually that would have a more indecent connotation, in your case it was frightening. Like, so disconcerting, he was afraid of you. And it was confusing to be turned on and scared at the same time, but somehow the anxiety was pleasant.

Texting

You lounged around in the bathtub. There were lit candles and blue petals and some other stereotypical bullshit littered about, and you’d been wasting more time than necessary anyway. It wasn’t your fault the world was so dull whenever Kaiser was away from you. That was why when he wasn’t around the house, you did all sorts of extraneous things.

With a reach, you felt around for your phone until you could grab it, and then you turned it on and took a selfie. When you opened your chat with him, you saw he still hadn’t read or replied to anything else you sent him throughout the day, but you kinda forgot you did that anyway.

There were pictures of the sky and a few trees you liked and some old man you talked to when you went out hiking and of your meal at a restaurant which you didn’t even finish because it made you ill, all coupled with unimportant captions.

You sent him the selfie, where you were frowning.

You - 11:07 Micha I miss you soooooo much! I had some fun today but overall it’s boring I love you ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Michael Kaiser - 03:32 Don’t spam me Replied to “I had some…”: Whatever, suffer more without me I love you too

Label

“Micha,” you said with grave seriousness as you stared down at your phone, “you have a paraphilia.”

He flinched at the word, directed at him no less, and gritted his teeth. “What nonsense are you saying now? Always throwing around random shit in the air like you’re getting paid.”

You turned the screen towards him, pointing. It was some list on Wikipedia and your finger was hovering near the word ‘exophilia.’ “This is what you have,” you said matter-of-factly.

Kaiser had an unreadable expression, mostly because it was vacant and unimpressed.

“No need to use words you don’t understand the nuance of.” He smirked, getting over the initial… whatever reaction he was having, and then he reached out to wrap an arm to pull you into his lap while he sat like he was on a throne even though it was just a lounge chair. Kaiser gestured in the air with ostentation while he spoke, “It only makes sense an extraordinary person like myself would have a unique lover, to gaze upon otherworldly beauty, unlike all those other scoundrels who need to mingle among themselves.”

Now you were the one with a blank face. After some staring, you tapped his cheek. “Micha is so silly and pretentious sometimes…”

“When you talk about me like that, you make me feel really stupid. You’re supposed to feel flattered, not insult me.”

You ignored the complaint, but wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek a few times as an appeasement. As usual, he melted into it, and he found himself embarrassed because it was such a small thing to get so affected by.

“Besides, you’ve got to have the same thing. Because I am to you what you are to me,” Kaiser said, still feeling a need to justify himself.

“Hmm. Yes. That’s true. Yay, we’re a freaky couple! Isn’t it nice?”

Kaiser didn’t understand what was so appealing to you with your enthusiasm about the word choice and all. At least if he was sick for his attraction, so were you. There was a unity in that.

Birthday II

You greeted Kaiser outside when he arrived and began dragging him back in, excited to show him something. Kaiser decided to be a pissy killjoy purely for the love of the game, “I don’t see what the point of buying me a present with my money is. I could do that on my own and probably pick something better too.”

“Don’t worry. I made it myself.”

Well, now he was vaguely scared about what it could be. But he was all cool and collected on the outside, so it didn’t count as real trepidation in his mind.

It was in the middle of the corridor on the second floor. Even though he already had a glimpse of it while approaching, you still presented it to him as if he hadn’t seen it at all, stretching out your arms and pursing your lips for the grand reveal.

There stood a statue of him posing with a ball and some kind of trophy. Kaiser didn’t bother asking how you ‘made it yourself.’ A lot of things about you, he was better off just not knowing. And even if he did, he might not get it. He didn’t want to be in a position where he misinterpreted you entirely, so it was better this way, like some kind of mystery.

But anyway this was very embarrassing. You had some kind of notion you had about him which was being communicated right now without words, that he was the kind of guy who sucked his own dick so much he’d enjoy this demented present. The most shameful part was that you were correct, he kind of liked it. It looked nice and all and it was life sized. His pose was grandiose. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or if he should dig a hole and bury his head in it, but either way he was made to feel exposed and attacked by your actions.

After the initial inner conflict, Kaiser decided to address you since it was becoming uncomfortable. “Thanks, you captured my likeliness rather well.”

You seemed pleased by the feedback. Often he noticed you cared about the more pragmatic things, in this case about whether your handiwork was accurate, if it was up to par.

He stood next to it and smirked at you before asking, “Who looks better?”

“Micha is the most beautiful man in the world,” you cheered. “He’s even more beautiful than himself!”

Hehehehe.

But he wouldn’t dare make such an undignified sound out loud.

Kaiser preened at the praise, even though he knew you were wording it in such an exaggerated way just to please him, going along with his fishing for compliments. While he preferred to think of himself as a complex and elusive person who no one understood, there were things about him that were rather simple.

Taxi

That day you had an interesting conversation with Kaiser over the phone. He instructed you to go to the airport and you argued with him about how planes were insufficient for transportation and then you found out they didn’t have teleportation pods and then both of you got too distracted over some made up, incoherent conflict. But anyway, in the end you asked him what you were supposed to do at the airport to begin with since it was such a boring place, and he said he wanted you to pick him up.

Once you climbed inside the passenger seat, you gave the driver the address Kaiser sent you. The driver didn’t seem particularly inclined to converse, but you talked to him. “My roommate is asking me to pick him up.”

“Cool,” he said, not giving a fuck.

“Between you and me, isn’t he handsome?”

You smiled and flashed him your lock screen, which was an unflattering picture of Kaiser (what the big stink was about, you didn’t remember). Those were surprisingly easy to capture considering how often he made all those ugly grimaces.

Though the driver wasn’t a football fanatic, he recognized the man — a celebrity. His exterior stood strong and he remained impassive on the outside, but he thought to himself, I’m stuck in a car with a delusional socially inept erotomaniac.

He replied in an even tone, “Sure.”

He also thought he was entering mass psychosis when fifteen minutes after he dropped you off, you brought back Michael Kaiser to the car, in the flesh (you were carrying around his luggage as if it weighted nothing before you loaded it in the trunk), and you were even talking to him about his away game, and he was bitching about some other players you didn’t seem to recognize beyond Kaiser’s hatred of them. Which implied you weren’t even a football fan.

Regardless, the driver acted natural.

Orbit

You’d been acting withdrawn all day this weekend, which worried Kaiser since it was uncharacteristic, and in turn he started being annoying and dramatic if not overbearing, as if he was seeking some sign in your responses that you weren’t mad at him through his antics.

The reason for this erratic behavior was rather pitiful. Within him there was an unease.

It wasn’t like you were locked in or anything. You were free to go out at any time, and you did. There were times he feared you’d figure out how to go back to your planet — selfish as it was, he hoped such good fortune would never befall you so you’d need to stay with him — and worse he thought maybe during one of your strolls you’d meet someone, get to know them. You had some acquaintances, but they weren’t really close to you, and he thought if there was someone you connected with and got to know better, you’d realize he was defective. Pathologically egocentric and incapable of… Well, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew sides of him were hollow, he was lacking. Since he was mishandled as a kid; even his parents couldn’t love him.

Of course, Kaiser did the mature thing any adult would do and didn’t speak his mind, letting it eat at him.

So his anxiety spiked when after all that avoiding him — on his day off no less — you asked, “Micha, don’t you think it’s time for you to go back to all the other humans?”

It didn’t even sound like a rejection, more like you were shooing him away. He just froze. There was an expression on his face as if he was spacing out, eyes widened slightly and mouth set in a thin line.

“Why do you say that?” he asked right back, trying to remain calm.

“Because you’d always rather spend your free time with me than anyone else. And you’re always doing all those things for me… Doesn’t it other you from your peers? What if I start rubbing off on you?”

Kaiser grabbed you by the shoulders. Though such desperate movements and measures and everything-s were below him in his opinion (or at least they were counterintuitive to the way he portrayed himself), he was already on edge and he didn’t want to mince his words. Like the window for winning you over was timed and he was sprinting to squeeze himself in. He supposed he was able to strip himself of his self-inflicted guidelines if necessary. It was just that he usually didn’t deem things outside of football important.

“I don’t care about that. I choose to spend all that time with you because I enjoy it. You make me feel human, so don’t leave. I want to love and care for someone and… I want to be loved and cared for in return, too.”

You seemed surprised by this. Kaiser thought such a thing would be obvious, but then again there were gaps between you that left room for misunderstandings which wouldn’t even be taken into account before they arose.

His love for you was self-involved to an extent. There was a certain light you saw him in — as a human — and he liked experiencing himself in that way through your perspective, but there was more to it than that, something he’d never felt before and couldn’t put into words. So it was real nonetheless, even if coming from someone deficient like him.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked.

“Yeah. Of course.”

He was really firm on it, too, and didn't hesitate before answering. You were a little nervous about what was about to happen.

“I want you to stay with me for as long as possible,” he said. There was an unspoken, Do you?

This seemed to cheer you up from whatever had caused your doubts because you smiled again. “Let’s mispronounce je t’aime together till the end of time.”

“What a disgustingly cute sentiment,” Kaiser said, letting go of your shoulders to embrace you properly, and then he started leaning in.

You shared a slow kiss with him. At first it was gentle and hesitant, but then you both relaxed into it, and he grew more confident in his advances. Kaiser caressed every part of you he touched with what you recognized as real desire, like it didn’t matter that you didn’t really look the way you presented yourself to him or how different you were from one another or even that there might be ways in which your bodies were incompatible.

___

This was just some stupid experimental half joke half allegorical bs that I wrote because I had the idea and I'm very normal and casual about the fact that kaiser sees himself as not inherently possessing humanity. Anyway if something is unclear u can ask me about it or share what you think!

EVIL SMAU #3: — Problematic autocorrect 😯😯 Characters: Sae, Barou, Nagi, Ness, Kaiser, Shidou, Reo, Rin, Isagi, Bachira Type: Humor/Crackfic

Inspired by when I typed "since" and google docs changed it to "sensei" like wtf who is sensei bitch

❊ one more time! - michael kaiser . . kaiser thinks that he was destined to meet you in this lifetime.

it's january when kaiser firsts asks you out. and it's january, when, in response, you laugh in his face and decline.

he'd met you in a coffee shop. your aunt's coffee shop, to be specific. he'd been a regular for a while but had never seen you there before. sitting at a booth in the back, by a window, rare winter sunlight kissed your cheeks and bathed you in a brilliant soft white light.

eyes dead-set on your textbook and laptop, sitting on the small table in front of you, he watches. kaiser thinks you're just so cute, with your fingers thrumming against the ceramic mug that holds something light brown and steaming, and with your headphones blocking everything but your notes out. actually, he's so enamoured that he ends up walking right into a table.

with a rather unattractive 'oof,' he hunches and grabs the table with both hands to stop it from rattling; unfortunately for him, the damage is done. the sweet older barista is laughing at him. customers in line snicker. and you? you look up from your work, blink, and then crack a small smile. and oh, kaiser thinks his bruised ego and battered side are all worth it now. because you smiled at him. and god, it was the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

in line to order, he's thinking about you the whole time, and stealing furtive glances (that he hopes are more subtle than they feel) back at your table. and at the counter, he orders a caffé mocha instead of his usual large iced chai latte with oat milk, 1 pump of caramel syrup, and 3 pumps of sugar-free vanilla syrup. the barista, who knows him from his daily overly-complex orders, gives him a raised eyebrow. kaiser simply shrugs and smiles. he tells her that he's testing a hypothesis. she gives him the stink eye and upcharges him.

once his drink is up, he's on the move, taking confident strides over to your table, where he asks, "is it okay if i sit here?"

and karma is in his favour today, because when you look up and around, the café is busy and bustling and the tables are all full. and he thinks that if cool guys swooned, he'd be swooning hard as you give him the tiniest, polite smile and a brief "sure" in response.

he thinks he's the smoothest man in the world, really, as he takes a seat across from you (like a date) and glances at your beverage. it's the same shade of caramel-ly brown, same kind of mug, same everything. he's fairly sure he's got the same drink as you-- a perfect conversation starter, just like he planned. kaiser clears his throat. "you order a caffé mocha? me too."

you look up again and glance at his drink before turning to him. "uh, no. not quite."

damn. kaiser's really done himself in, now. but he's cool. he can play it smooth. "really? what do you order, then?"

he then moves to shift his hands and, with an incredible lack of grace for a professionally-trained sportsman, he knocks his drink into his lap, spilling the lukewarm beverage all over his white sweater and jeans. he curses under his breath, and then remembers he has a really, really cute person he wants to impress, so he sucks up the embarrassment and grins (grimaces, more like) at you. "i don't suppose you ordered some napkins, too."

you let out a huff of laughter that makes him forget about his permanently ruined sweater as you fish around in your bag for a small, cloth napkin which you hand to him. "hopefully your sweater isn't too stained."

he hums. and a small smile takes over his face. "so, do you give a handkerchief to every guy who spills his coffee, or am i special?"

you raise your eyebrows in amusement. "you're the first guy whose spilled his coffee on himself while trying to talk to me. so i guess you're special."

kaiser beams, and he's sure satisfaction makes his grin grow on his face when he catches you flustering ever-so-slightly at his smile. "that's what i like to hear."

"what about you? you come here to impress strangers often?"

"only the ones i want to take out on a date."

and that's when it happens. that's where you laugh. and he's sure he looks appalled, absolutely shocked, when you stop, and say "sorry, no thanks."

he's a little speechless, when you look at him next, so you very helpfully fill in the silence. you offer, "any guy who drinks a caffé mocha isn't my kind of guy."

he splutters, cheeks likely redder than he'd like, reeling from embarrassment. "that was only because i thought you liked them!"

"why would you think that?"

kaiser doesn't reply. he's dug his grave, he knows, as you blink. in real time, he watches you connect the dots. "oh. you walked into the table because you were trying to see what i got. so you could talk to me, right?"

maybe he could still salvage this. if not his chance with you, then his dignity. "maybe i did. it worked, at least."

you're staring at him again, a contemplative look on your face. and he's willing his heart to stop racing under your gaze, and he's begging his face to return to a normal colour, and he's practically praying for the butterflies to stop churning windstorms in his stomach, when you say, "it's hot chocolate. and i'll be here tomorrow. same time, same table. if you want to try again with the right drink."

he's never believed in fate. kaiser is a realist. he's practical. he knows, or at least, pretends to know what he's doing. kaiser believes life is what you make it. kaiser believes his future is in his hands. but then you smile at him again. and it's a different kind of smile; one where your eyes crease and it's more on your left side than your right, and he thinks that maybe, if one thing was bound to happen in this lifetime, it was to walk into this café and meet you this winter morning.

"hot chocolate," he smiles back at you, "i'll remember that."

you take your textbook and slide it into your bag before standing. "i'll see you then."

you're already gone when he realises that he still has your napkin. but, he smiles to himself, it's okay. he can just give it back to you tomorrow.

flowers chosen: sweetpea & tarragon . . thank you for the lovely time & lasting interest

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒲𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐸𝒴𝐸𝒮 — attractive things they do

info ⭑  includes: itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, mikage reo, michael kaiser, yukimiya kenyu ﾉ suggestive bordering nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ all character written 19+  

₊˚ପ⊹ RIN guides you by your waist. when you’re playing around and purposely blocking his path, his arms stretch out to take a hold of you before effortlessly reversing your positions with the click of his tongue and an easy, lazy smirk. it’s also one of the few physical actions he’ll display in public, preferring it over holding hands or slinging an arm around your shoulders. he can see you this way, keep you in his sights. when you’re not paying any mind to your surroundings and nearly walk into traffic, he pulls you into him and gives you a squeeze, leaning down to whisper “be careful” against your skin. you jump at his touch and the feel of his breath tickling your ear, cheeks burning with the reminder of where his hands were roaming and exploring the night before.

₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU walks around the apartment in sweatpants that hang incredibly low on his hips. your focus shifts from the pot of water you’re waiting to boil to ryusei as he pads into the kitchen after finishing his shower. beads of water drip from his hair onto his bare chest and roll down his tanned skin until they reach his v-line. you don’t realize the water on the stove has come to a boil until shidou clears his throat, jerking his head at the stove. “you’re staring real hard, pretty,” he drawls with a lazy grin. it only takes a few strides for him to close the gap between the two of you. his hands grip the counter on either side of you, trapping you in place as fuchsia eyes filled with mischief stare down at your figure. “something more you wanna see?”

₊˚ପ⊹ OLIVER intently stares at your lips whenever you’re talking. to be fair, each conversation starts with his eyes on yours but they always happen to drift down to your mouth. he takes in their natural pout and the subtle shine that your chapstick leaves behind on them. eventually, his mind begins to wander. he thinks about how soft they would feel sucking hickeys onto the pulse of his neck and across his collarbone or wrapped around the head of his—"are you even listening?“ you ask with crossed arms, the corners of your lips turnings down in a frown. "of course i am,” he tells you, finally dragging his gaze up to your eyes. “i just hear you better this way, that’s all.”

₊˚ପ⊹ REO puts his hands over yours every time you reach for your wallet to pay. he can feel the way your fingers wriggle beneath his palm, but he ignores the movement, intertwining his fingers with yours while he pulls out his card and hands it to the cashier. he’s got more money to his name than he knows what to do with, so it only makes sense for him to spoil you. he might smile and breathe out a laugh when you slap his shoulder and frown, sulking about how you feel bad for spending all his money, but he hears you. if you really feel like paying him back, he can think of a couple of ways you could do so—some that are better suited taking place in the bedroom.

₊˚ପ⊹ KAISER tilts your chin up with his finger whenever you refuse to look at him. it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing him offer fans smiles and hugs, but you can’t help but think about it when the two of you are taking your leave. “are you seriously mad?” he asks from beside you, and it wouldn’t have upset you if he didn’t laugh like it was unreasonable. you scoff and roll your eyes but before you’re able to make it any closer to the door, you’re being tugged back. all too suddenly, kaiser is in front of you, his hooked finger angling your head up and forcing you to meet his azure gaze. “you know i only have eyes for you, right?” he murmurs, like his words are meant for you and you alone. he’ll show you that his statement holds true when you get home.

₊˚ପ⊹ YUKIMIYA uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe away his sweat. on the occasion that you accompany him to a weekend practice or individual workout, you tend to look out for it. after the intense training when he’s cooling down, you watch attentively as he drags the hem of his shirt across his upper lip to collect the beads of perspiration. the motion leaves his abdomen exposed, putting the defined lines of his abs and the trail of dark hair peeking out from his shorts on display. your staring isn’t as discreet as you think it is but yukimiya doesn’t mind it. even after he catches you gawking, he keeps his shirt pulled up so as to not interrupt your view. when finally do look up at him, he’s peering at you over his glasses, tongue running along his lower lip.

hey! it's manon :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

here and there, about him.

summary: is he perfect? no, just like anyone else. but there will always be something about him. (aka a snippets of one of many, many things he will do for you.)

notes: missing lovesick bllk boys trope for a hot minute while doing other stuffs. short and light stuffs to scratch the itch. was about to isagi and nagi, but turns out self control is still a thing for me. warning: none, just minor swearing + fluffs capital f of smitten boys, chigiri is ready to fight for you. reader's gender unspecified.

characters: rin, chigiri, kaiser.

itoshi rin is very, very much very obvious in his favoritism to you. so obvious that both his teammates and his brother told him to tone it down a little bit. of course, rin only scoffs and tell them to mind their own business (actually he said it more as ’fuck off, cretins’, but details). but, really, no one could exactly blame them. this guy could be in an ongoing tirade of how person a is an utterly pathetic soggy wet trash, then you greet him with a smile and he turns into a cold, suave, rich boyfriend in a snowy winter day. drape his jacket on you, hold your hand, let you hug him from behind while discreetly intertwining your finger with his type of stuffs. it’s a bit disgusting, honestly. and no one wants to start commenting on how he immediately looks at your direction after scoring a goal. also if he buys something, the only one who has the slightest bit of hope of ever receiving anything is his brother here—and that chance is very miniscule on its own since none of them are you. put simply, it’s a bit infuriating, yet undeniably infuriatingly cute in its own way to watch. especially when there is a very high chance you will be the one and only romance this anti social guy will ever have. everyone in the team supports the two of you, but by gods maybe please do something about him a little bit?

chigiri hyoma would never let anyone hurt you. it’s common knowledge already that he takes no shit from anyone and ever since he saw you as ‘the one’, he pretty much already thinks of you as an inseparable part of his life already. so, in other words, that means you have gotten yourself a boyfriend who is ready to became a biting guard dog at moments notice. someone insults you? tries to physically harms you? oh, baby, held your boyfriend back because he is also known to get angry real quick. save his reputation and held himself back from spouting words that would make someone’s ancestor cry or, worse, beat someone up. this is a speedster athlete trained by ego jinpachi himself—no one could escape unscathed from something like that. but hey, this is someone who naturally turns into a shoujo manga male lead with soft gazes and flowery smile the moment you put a hand on his cheek. this is, in a way, just another way for him to protect and make sure of your comfort. also, he needs to have an outlet for the less soft part somewhere other than soccer.

michael kaiser is very reliable and observant, despite whatever persona or deflection he will give you even in the ‘official already’ part of your relationship. this guy got a high ego and put on an air of someone high and mighty, beyond your league. but everyone all know if you got to the part where he proudly let you wore his clothes or make sure you stay pressed to his side during walks, he is down bad. still, for his sake and maybe everyone else’s, let him take care of you and act casual about it. don’t point it out when he suddenly crouch down and tie your untied shoelaces, keep talking as if nothing happened when he put a hand in the small of your back, and just act as if nothing happen when he gave someone a ferocious glare while making sure you cling unto his arm. don’t praise or, god forbid, swoon at those. it will only make him get flustered and lose his composure or, worse, get real annoying. he is indeed good at the whole act of service thing, surprisingly, but please do remember his attitude is indeed also in the ‘piece of shit’ category most of the time. just let the yellow and blue betta fish swim at his own pace and let what means to happen in the future, happen at its own time, including giving praises to him without him reacting like a lovesick brat.

#Amator

Sypnosis: Things they love doing for you - no matter how ridiculous it is, no matter how terrible they are at doing it, no matter how many failed attempts it costs them, no matter how much time and energy it eats up of their day, no matter how much it inconvenienced them.

Warnings: not proofread (as usual)

Notes: The word 'amateur' originates from the word 'amator' which is Latin for lover/to love/love. An interpretation of it could be to do something for the love of it, to do something simply because you love it. Amateurs at loving learning how to love and loving no matter how horrible they are at it.

Featuring: Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage x GN! Reader

Michael Kaiser - who plans dates beforehand as he learns more about you, who loves being cheesy and romantic, with flowers and decorations so extravagant that they could be considered tacky.

Kaiser, oh Kaiser. He never fails to surprise and keep you on your toes. He doesn't care when you've grown a 6th sense for whatever he's scheming because it just proves that you've spent a lot of time with him - so much to the point where you recognise that smirk on his face the moment he's planning something.

With a bouquet of your favourite flowers, he masks how he's simply a bundle of nerves - all jittery and antsy - with his usual charming grin. Kaiser ponders if this is enough for you, if this date was too sudden, if he got you a big enough bouquet, but his doubts wash away when your skin meets his. Your kisses leave him breathless, his mind goes blank and the only thought he could process is how he wants more.

"Too much?" He repeats after you, laughing at the idea that something like this is too much when he was just worrying that this wasn't enough to wow you just moments ago. If this is too much, you have no other choice than to get used to it. Get ready for your whole world to be shaken by him since he'll swoop you off your feet without an ounce of hesitation.

"Meine Liebe, this isn't too much," he's firm, confident as usual. He knows that he means every word. Tucking a strand of your hair away from your pretty face, he doesn't realize the way his smile grows.

Perhaps that's what makes him so naturally charming about him - how he's so romantic and old-school it almost makes you want to barf. Cheesy love letters, dancing at midnight in the kitchen alongside an empty bottle of wine, symphonies of hums and laughter fill the room.

When you fall in love with him even deeper, he notices, yet not a word is uttered - no teasing or playful bantering tonight. Good, keep looking at him like that, you're always so enchanting to the point where he'd do this all over again to get another look at your lovestruck face.

Sae Itoshi - whose thoughts are constantly being eaten up by you despite the minimal chances you both get to bask in each other's presence, who poorly imitates the example of so-called 'romantic gestures' until he becomes good at it.

He finds himself at the front step of a local flower shop, mind consumed by you even during his morning jogs. With a hesitant step into the shop, teal eyes wander every bouquet on display. Frequently, his teammates would buy gifts such as this for their significant others, so you would like it if he did the same... right?

Sae is quick to learn that he should prepare something to say beforehand.

"Oh, you bought this for me?" You ask aloud, a little stunned by the sudden act. "Mm," is all Sae replies with, calmly passing you the bouquet. You clasp it in your hands with a touch much more gentle compared to his.

"Thank you, sweetheart," You croon the endearing term you assigned him, something only you call him, something only he allows you to call him, and something that he's grown fond of. Silence sits in the air as he sits down across from you, the piping hot cup of coffee you never fail to prepare for him on the table.

"Something wrong?"

"...Nothing."

"Sae... I can tell when something is on your mind." a sigh, "It's okay. Take your time to open up to me."

He pauses. Scratching the back of his neck, his gaze flickers between you and the cup of coffee. "Sorry, things became awkward all of a sudden. I bought you that bouquet impulsively."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't mind. If that's how you want to show me that you love me, that isn't wrong either. There's no wrong way to love." The rain outside gets heavier, the sound of rain hitting the windows filling the room as you inch your hands closer to his.

"What's your favorite flower?" Sae speaks up, eyes stuck your hands when they encase his, fingers re-exploring every crease of his palm. "I never got to ask before." A newfound determination can be found in the firm grip he has on you, spine straightening.

"I don't have a favorite but I guess... orchids." You grin, "You just bought me orchids after all."

Seishiro Nagi - who's always on your side, who learns your non-verbal cues

"Wow, you're so capable," Your friend sighs, sarcasm evident in their tone. Eyes rolling as you nudge them, laughing along and apologizing. Leaving your bag with Nagi, you turned and made your way back to your apartment - which wasn't so far away.

"Jeez, if we're late, this is going to be all their fault," Your friend leans their weight on one leg, shaking their head in disappointment. "Gosh, they're so forgetful, it's annoying sometimes."

"(Name) just forgot, no big deal," Nagi murmured to your friend. He finds his mood souring when they criticise you, jaw clenching unconsciously at their words when he's usually so nonchalant about things. "We rushed 'em too," he continues, failing to notice how adamant he is about defending you.

"I'm just saying,"

Nagi's usual frown deepens by a bit as he bites the inside of his cheek.

Noticing the stifling tension in the air, your friend opens their mouth but eventually purses their lips in thought, deciding to hold back their retorts. "...Should we just go first? I don't wanna be late. Plus, (Name) knows the way there anyway."

"You go, 'm gonna wait for (Name)," Nagi sits down on a bench, placing your bag on his lap and hugging it to his chest. He doesn't notice when your friend has turned heel and left - or rather, he doesn't really care enough to notice. By the time you find him, he's on his phone and busy playing games.

You tap him on the shoulder. "Where's (Friend's Name)?" He shrugs. "Left first."

"Oh..." Your tone dips.

"Upset?" He notices.

You nod your head, "Kinda."

"It's okay," he replies. What you assume to be a half-hearted attempt at consoling you works out splendidly when he pulls you into a hug. "Don't worry about them, let's go. We could even ditch them and go home if you wanna."

Reo Mikage - who doesn't believe in being 'desperate' when you're too in love with someone to care, who can't believe you when you tell him that he's your dream guy.

"Another one?! I live in an apartment, not a garden, Reo!" An exasperated sigh escapes you, but you can't stay mad at him for long when puppy dog eyes stare back at you. A wide grin spreads on his face, entering your house as if it were his own as he settles the bouquet down on your coffee table.

Since starting your relationship, Reo has insisted on being a gentleman - opening doors for you, carrying your stuff, and learning more about you and your struggles once you're comfortable enough to open up to him. As if he wasn't enough of a dreamboat and too lucky of a catch for you, he never fails to send you flowers every week.

Even on the weeks he's busy, he'll have them delivered, even profusely apologizing because he couldn't meet you face-to-face even though the gesture alone made your heart melt. He excels at everything, and charming you is one of the things he's particularly good at.

"Are they becoming a hassle for you, babe?" Reo asks, strolling around to realize that you've built up quite the collection of flowers. "I could rent out somewhere for you to keep them all."

"That's too much. Plus, I like having them here," He nods at your words, taking quick notice of the sticky note you attached to the stem of each bouquet - keeping track of which date he gave these flowers to you on.

"Are you sure? You don't have to keep them all. Throw them out if you have to."

"Positive. I can somewhat garden now thanks to you."

Taglist: @dewwberry, @saenora, @van1lla-alt

Michael Kaiser — Molasses

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, Idk if i'd call this fluff lol, bad communication gets resolved at the end WARNING: trigger warning for CRINGE

“Is it easy for you to keep up with him?”

Your friend is interrogating you about Kaiser again. After a while, the topic of your relationship lost novelty, making way for newer drama, but it’s difficult for them to disregard that you’re dating a football player. Like, a real one, not just some dude who goes to play every other Sunday with his buddies.

You swirl your straw around your drink, looking at it like there’s slop in the glass instead of what you ordered. You wouldn’t say you keep up with Kaiser, so you shrug. “Give him a ball to kick around and he’ll be content.”

They raise an eyebrow, picking up on your sulking. Not like you’re being subtle about it. “So, I take it you’re not super stoked about things right now?”

Well, that’s the thing. You have nothing to do with what makes him happy. You don’t even call him by his first name, which is odd for obvious reasons, but also because it gives off the impression you’re one of the lackeys on his team, even though you don’t play. Or worse, a stalker fan who follows him around a lot.

Of course, you know what he’s like. That he’s a jerk who isn’t occupied with much besides himself, whose personality is cold and distant, and despite being a bit of a romantic, you’d prefer to think you didn’t have any unrealistic expectations. Maybe you overestimated your ability to tolerate how unavailable he is. And still — still! — is it such a crime to expect your boyfriend to display some vulnerability after several months of dating?

He doesn’t show you much of himself besides his persona, but you find it unnecessary, this covering up and playing His Majesty and forcing distance between you two with his paper thin smiles and showy kisses after games. You’re not a journalist trying to write an exposé on him (‘Michael Kaiser Is a Big Bitch’). You just… You just like him is all, and have a desire for a more profound closeness.

Does he share the same sentiments of affection towards you? It’s kind of a ridiculous question to ask yourself, and he’s way too pompous to allow anyone he finds uninteresting in his presence, but are you on his mind as often as he is on yours? Does he wonder about you the same way? You don’t believe you’re even half as elusive as he is, so it doesn’t seem plausible.

On the other hand, are you too overbearing? Should you pull back and relax?

You’ve been meaning to be mature and speak up about your concerns, but have been procrastinating on the conversation. For now, you wallow in your doubts while your friend suggests you break up with him and points out how big his forehead is, and how dumping a star is a ‘once in a lifetime opportunity.’

___

Kaiser is… off balance.

Not really. He’s standing upright and his posture is perfect and he’s not dizzy, but right now, the world is wrong and he can only hope the way he is clawing at his phone doesn’t betray how upset he is.

“Ness,” he says in his ‘I am about to complain’ tone. It is also only slightly different from his usual voice.

“Yes?”

“Before I continue, I just want you to know that I’m being very brave and nonchalant about this.”

Ness smiles, the expression seeming guileless as usual. “Of course,” he says eventually.

Kaiser all but shoves the screen in his face, since putting all of your offenses into words is beyond him, though it soon occurs to him Ness can’t read from this proximity and ceases the assault he’s committing on his eyes. Ness scans over your sparse chat, looks up at Kaiser again, and raises his eyebrows.

“They can’t make it to practice?” He states it in the form of a question when it appears that Kaiser is unwilling to talk, even though he’s the one who started the conversation.

“Congratulations, you can read. How many times has this happened?”

“I don’t know,” Ness says, despite knowing this is the fifth since he counted every time you didn’t show up the last two weeks. “Are they not feeling well?”

You shot him down the last two times he asked you to go out on a date. And you haven’t called before bed in a while. And you didn’t even add a kissy emoji when you told him good luck (not like he cares about your stupid emojis, but you didn’t). And whenever you see him lately, you act closed off.

“No, they’re totally avoiding me,” he says, after going through a mental flashback of all of your betrayals as if he was in a war instead of on iMessage. “Do you think I’m ugly? Or maybe boring?”

“Never.”

“Then what should I do?”

Did he have a plan for if he were unattractive? Get plastic surgery just to keep dating you or something? “You should try asking.”

“Maybe our relationship is losing its spark,” Kaiser says, completely disregarding Ness’s input. Ness continues smiling. It is unnerving, but an idea comes to Kaiser’s mind, and he’s too busy marveling at his genius to notice. “It’s an easy fix. I just need to romance [Y/n] again.”

Ness is still smiling.

“Anyway,” Kaiser continues despite the lack of answer, “you know they love those comics or whatever. It can be like a challenge. Recreate the atmosphere, sweep them off their feet. I can make my sweetie’s dreams come true. Because I’m not replaceable, and only I can do that for them. Right?”

For a brief moment, Ness considers telling him this is not the way and that he’s jumping through so many hoops, he’s going to trip and fall, but decides against it. Maybe there’s a grain of truth to what he’s saying. He doubts anyone else would come to this conclusion, for one, let alone devise a plan around it. If irreplaceable is synonymous with unique by some stretch of the imagination, then sure.

“Of course,” he says again. His eyes are big and innocent. Kaiser gets the distinct impression that Ness is judging him right now.

___

It’s already dark outside and you’re still sitting at your desk, doing mundane things on your computer, once again distracted from an assignment you’ve been meaning to do for a while. Something smacks against the window, startling you, but when you pull the curtains, you don’t see anything near the sill. You assume you imagined the noise, but another pebble hits the window, and this time you witness it as it happens.

The thought of some asshole throwing rocks at your windows irritates you, so you stand up to investigate, pressing your forehead against the glass.

Kaiser waves at you from below, looking way too cheery. You don’t know what he’s doing here, but you turn to go and let him in through the intercom — did he ring? you don’t remember him doing so — until you notice him gesturing at you to open the windows. Confused, you comply, peeking your head out, the cold breeze blowing against your cheeks and invading your already poorly insulated apartment.

“You look lovely today,” he yells out. Not a strong start, but he can redeem himself. Maybe.

“Thanks? Do you wanna come in?”

“Yes.” You lean away from the window again, but he stops you with another bizarre request. “No, wait. Later.”

This perplexes you even more, but you humor him with a weary expression anyway, resting your face against your palm.

… You interrupt his unnecessarily loud reading of some obscure love poem with a flail of your hands and a, “Cut it out and just come up!”

God, you hope none of your neighbors heard. To spare you both of this embarrassment, you don’t give him a chance to continue and instead close the windows, hurrying to let him in and unlock your door.

What’s with him, anyway? You feel a pinprick of anxiety at what’s about to come after such a strange… greeting from him, but try your best to seem stoic while you wait for Kaiser to climb up the stairs.

When he comes into view, you offer him what you consider a cool nod (which you may or may not have practiced in the mirror), and he continues to stand there at the doorway as if waiting for something. You move aside to give him space. Kaiser blinks once, figures this isn’t going his way, then follows your lead.

“Please don’t make me ask ‘where’s my hug at?’” he says, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. “That’s not like me at all.”

In your struggle to think of a neutral response, all you come up with is, “No one’s making you do anything,” which sounds more disagreeable than what you’re going for.

His lips settle into a thin line, the action calculating, as if he’s contemplating his next move. Both of you are being tactical. It’s weird considering this is supposed to be a sweet surprise visit from your boyfriend, not a battle of psychological warfare, but you don’t even know what’s going on anymore.

Then he takes a step closer until he’s in front of you, invading your personal space with his face leaning in so close to yours, resting his palm against the wall, almost pinning you to the wall but not quite. “Why not?”

“Do you need something? I kind of wasn’t expecting you, so,” you say irrelevantly. In your head, you’re still trying to make sense of this, not understanding where these corny gestures are coming from all of a sudden.

“No, I just wanted to see you. Is that a crime?” he says, backing away, folding his hands behind his back. There’s an artificial grin on his face. “Was this enjoyable for you?”

“Well, um, it was alright.”

“Did you like my recitation?”

“No…”

He read your stupid favorite series and the idiot love interest did both of those things. Does he have something that Kaiser doesn’t? And should he throw an irrational and jealous tantrum about it, shoujo style, or should he move onto the amnesia subplot?

This is awkward. You can’t think of an inoffensive topic to bring up. Perhaps deliberately withdrawing yourself from him has impaired your conversational skills? Either way, his unpredictable actions from earlier are throwing you off your game.

Kaiser follows you when you lead him to the couch, sitting in a manner you think is far too dignified considering he was serenading you from under your balcony not too long ago — prim and proper, with his ankle crossed over his knee and his hands intertwined together like he’s at a fancy meeting, offering opinions about a business deal.

You fumble for the remote with sweaty fingers, turning on the TV, hoping for a distraction. You can’t focus because you can feel Kaiser’s gaze on you, putting you on edge, burning into your side profile. He’s not even paying attention to whatever random show you started.

You turn towards him, conveying your incredulity with a raise of your eyebrows because you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to ask. ‘Why are you looking at me?’ doesn’t communicate what you want to say to the fullest extent.

“Oh, you caught me staring longingly at you. How embarrassing,” Kaiser says with the same sly smile, not sounding the slightest bit ashamed.

“Are you okay?”

“No. Have we met before?”

You scrunch your face in evident disbelief and think, OBVIOUSLY?

It makes Kaiser contemplate whether the amnesiac subplot is worth continuing.

“Seriously, you’re acting weird,” you say after gathering your wits.

“‘Weird,’” he repeats in fake amusement and looks away, switching from… whatever he’s been doing to a strange defensiveness, then adjusts the collar of his shirt. “I think the definition of that word is subjective.”

“I mean, sure.”

“And anyway, you were the one who was acting strange first.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Instead of acting like I don’t exist anymore, you should’ve just said you want to separate.”

God, Kaiser is so dramatic. Saying you were ‘acting like he doesn’t exist’ just because your world doesn’t revolve around him. You’re struggling to keep up with these mood swings. “But I don’t want to break up?”

“Oh,” he says before his lips turn up again. “That’s good,” he settles on, figuring it makes him come across as calm and collected enough.

“Honestly, I don’t know what you were doing, but… if you were worried about something, maybe you should’ve just told me?”

“You’re so cute when you’re being hypocritical.”

You cross your arms and frown, offended.

“I mean,” Kaiser elaborates, “you haven’t told me why you’re avoiding me either. And what was I doing? I wanted to find a new way to woo you again, but since you didn’t notice, it obviously didn’t work. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“Well, it’s hard to put it into words,” you say, picking at a hangnail on your finger to distract yourself. “I don’t want you to woo me or anything. A lot of the things you do are performative, just for show. Even all this wasn’t sincere… So I don’t wanna be in a situation where I’m opening up to you when you’re not doing the same.”

He seems taken aback by this. “Do you doubt my feelings for you?”

“Not exactly. More like the depth of them, if that makes sense?”

“When I thought I was losing you, I started acting irrational,” he says in a disdainful tone, vaguely gesturing at nothing in particular to imply this entire ordeal. “I hate to admit it, but it scared me how much it was affecting me.” Kaiser appears to regret admitting this almost immediately, though, because he tries to divert your attention by asking, “Is this the appealing kind of vulnerable? Or the pathetic one? I could repeat myself while flipping my hair from my best angle if it’d help.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” you say. “I should’ve just been upfront instead of playing games. You were right, that’s pretty hypocritical of me.”

“Yes, you should be sorry, making me act like a clown.” You narrow your eyes at him in annoyance. “But I guess I was confusing you, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Hold on,” you say, when the tropes finally click into your head (though you have to admit, as much as you love the romance genre, these things do come across as really bizarre in real life). “I don’t know if you were reading with your ass or what, but all these things are supposed to happen before the characters get together. It was way too late for any of this!”

“Haha. Is that so?” Kaiser asks, pretending he’s not dying of even more mortification on the inside. Then he pulls out his phone. “That reminds me, I organized a duel for your hand against Ness at the city center for later. I guess I should cancel it.”

“What-”

“Don’t worry, we choreographed it to be quick and painless, with a decisive win in my favor,” he says, as if any of what he mentioned is what you were questioning.

“Choreographed- Never mind, actually, I don’t wanna know. Why would Ness even agree?”

“Because I asked him to do it…?”