"𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

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

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

ft; kaiser, sae, barou

part 2 - sae

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“so, you’re going to Spain?”

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

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

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

and how could you reject that glimmer in his eyes?

“alright.”

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4 years later

“sae! you’re back!”

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

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

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

“and why should I tell you.”

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

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

“i missed you.”

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

Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.

You’ve been giggling nonstop for the past hour now. Don’t get him wrong, Kaiser loves hearing your laughter but right now it’s starting to piss him off.

You just sit there staring at whatever it is on your phone and giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. He raised an eyebrow completely abandoning the book in his hands and focusing his gaze on you.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

When you didn’t reply and kept smiling at your phone he frowned closing his book and moving towards your spot on the couch.

He tilted his head toward to take a peek at your phone but you were quicker to hide it, “Looking at someone’s phone without their permission isn’t nice, Michael.”

His frown deepened at that and moved closer to you, “What are you looking at? You’re been ignoring me and giggling like a lovesick fool.”

You bite your lip trying to contain a smile, “Well, that’s none of your business, pretty~” you poke his cheek and move towards stand up from your spot but he swiftly snakes his arm around your waist and forces you back into his chest.

“And where do you think you’re going, huh?” He smirks down at you successfully trapping you against his chest.

“Let me go, Michael!” You say through laughter.

He tilts his head up, pretending to think “Hmmmm… I think I won’t” he started slowly caressing your tummy.

“Now, you have two choices here, either you tell me willingly or I force it out of you, love” his fingers that were caressing your tummy just a moment ago moved to ticked you now.

Your uncontrollable laughter could be heard through the whole apartment. You squirmed in his grip and pleads started falling from your lips involuntarily.

“P-Please Michael! I- I’ll show you! Stop!” You managed to get it out while Kaiser kept attacking your sides.

He halts his movements and smirks down at you “What an obedient little thing you are.” for a second you contemplated not wanting to satisfy him upon seeing his shit-eating grin.

You sigh and move to reach for your phone unlocking it with ease. “There, happy now?” You push the phone in his face flashing his with an edit of himself.

He falls silent for a moment but recovers from his initial shock quickly and the grin makes it back to his lips. “Oh, so it’s me you’re drooling over, huh.”

You smile sheepishly and blush a little, “Well, they did capture your finest moments on the field…” you hear his giggling in your ears and you’re attacked again, although this time the target is your neck and Kaiser is planting kisses all over it.

Michael Kaiser — On Your Knees

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.9k TYPE: Humor, Teasing, ERM I think y/n and kaiser might like each other 🤓 WARNING: Suggestive sorry (flirting is only verbal but explicit at times)

Kaiser always looks alright with his hair wet. Not, like, stunning or anything, but passable. Then you know it’ll start standing up in weird ways after it dries a little and he’ll ask Ness to help him with it — which, embarrassing, by the way.

But anyway. You wanted to check out the communal bath after you took a shower, figured you’d be alone because it was already bordering on late, and Kaiser followed you because why wouldn’t he. Not like you value your peace and solitude or anything. He can be such a pest sometimes.

You were telling him what Isagi told you — it’s called a sento and apparently it’s different from the more popular onsen — and he said you weren’t ‘worldly’ and that you weren’t ‘impressing him’ and then some more about how ‘everyone knows this.’ Shithead. You should spit in his breakfast tomorrow, if you remember.

Well, you like sitting in the bath, at least, so you’re not too sour right now. Even Kaiser being right next to you can’t ruin it.

“I like this Raichi guy,” you say.

Kaiser shakes his head a little to show you he disapproves. “Don’t tell me you mingle with them. Also, the guy’s always benched. He’s second-rate.”

“No, listen, he was telling me about this sexy soccer motto he has. I really wanna know what it’s about.”

“You’re embarrassing. If you’re in my entourage, you should act like it.”

“Dude, you’re just mad at Isagi ‘cause he was trending on football twitter more than you were that day,” you say.

“I’m not!”

Very persuasive argument coming from him here. It’ll take a lot out of you to take it apart. He’s fuming about it, too. Maybe it’s not so bad Kaiser came along if you can poke fun at him.

“I don’t know why you’re the favorite on the team, anyway,” you say. “They all die over your corny tattoo and not to mention how much you love showing it off. Not cool at all.”

“You wish you were me. Now you’re being jealous because no one likes you, and it’s making you look even uglier than usual,” says Kaiser, seeming to believe himself if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.

“I mean, I had a girlfriend till recently, you know.” Kaiser rolls his eyes, but you ignore him. He’s always doing this, pretending he doesn’t want to hear you. “She had this botched blue dye job and said things like ‘pussy power,’ with the crystals in her room and the tarot cards and all.”

“Yeah? Sounds great. Did you pick her up after a match, loser?”

You click your tongue and wag your finger at him just to be annoying. “No, I don’t fool around with fans. Seems more like your forte.”

He flicks the offending finger away. “I’ve never done that, you slanderous pig.”

“No, but listen, she didn’t care about football at all. She didn’t even know what a scissor kick is. Ooh, she drove me wild.” You sing the last part, looking up at the ceiling fondly as if you’re recalling a warm memory.

Kaiser narrows his eyes at you, frowning. “You’re one strange individual.” And what a pompous way to put it.

“But anyway, wanna know what kinda tattoo I’d get?”

“I seriously don’t care.”

“A skull with two guns. Hard as fuck.”

“You’re so lame. It’s appalling, and also probably why you got dumped.”

He’s taking the tattoo thing seriously. At least seriously enough to insult you over it. He’s even snickering at you in amusement. His face is always, how can you put it… snide, but he does look a touch more evil when he starts grinning and shit. What a hoot, though. Really.

“Nah, there was this guy. He wore suspenders with plaid polos and these little sweaters over them. They were sustainable. Sustainable. Can you believe it? Sustainable! I didn’t stand a chance.” You poke him on the neck, already distracted from what you were rambling about. Kaiser is going to bring up your low attention span soon, you can smell it on him. It doesn’t take any effort to reach out, though, what with him sitting so close next to you. “This isn’t such a bad spot for a tattoo, actually. I don’t know, maybe you were onto something.”

“Paws off,” he says, swatting you away like a bug. A pedestrian bug, probably, at least in his imagination. “You really wanna fondle me that badly, you’ll use any excuse to do so?”

“Paws!” you repeat, clapping. “You’re hysterical.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes again. He seems to like to do that a lot, at least in your presence. If there was such a thing as competitive eye-rolling, you wager he’d be good at it, maybe even better than he is at football.

“No, but listen-”

“God, I hate it when you say that,” he interrupts with a groan, then contradicts himself by also swinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer just to yawn in your face with great exaggeration. The water is way too hot for this nonsense, so you push him away. “Because I never want to listen to you.”

“You’re crazy. Insane. It’s super clinical. Like, really.”

“Yes, I’m sure, unlike me, you’d pass a psychiatric evaluation because I’m crazy and you aren’t. Of course.”

“Imagine-”

“Can you stop topic-hopping?” Kaiser asks, annoyed. See, you knew he’d bring it up. “Does your head ever hurt with how much bullshit goes through it?”

You shush him. He scowls at you like you’re some mold growing in the bath, but you disregard his expression of disdain. “Imagine you’re having a nice day, I don’t know, at practice. Then I barge in with all of my asshole glory, right, and I walk up to you, and for no reason, I say, ‘On your knees,’ instead of greeting you. Isn’t that kinda deranged?”

Kaiser stares at you. To his credit, he’s decent at maintaining a poker face, but once he’s embarrassed, there’s no hiding it, no going back. Because no matter how much he does his usual male posturing or whatever it’s called, his face is all red, the blush even going up to his ears, mouth wavering the slightest bit. “W-What? In your dreams.”

“Oh, do you like getting bossed around or something?” you ask with the sensitivity of a numb toe. “That’s so pathetic.”

It’s quite the spectacle when his skin somehow becomes even more flush. Sick of your leering, maybe, Kaiser whips around, albeit not all the way, and covers his cheek with his hand while peering at you through his fingers. Finally, he decrees, “You suck,” with too much authority.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forget about me, though. In that situation, do you spit or do you swallow?”

It’s unclear whether you’re getting any gratification out of this besides the satisfaction of flustering him, but you smile in amusement regardless. As if you care about Kaiser sitting there, looking all pretty and nervous because of some nonsense you’d been spewing. Not like you’re crazy about him or anything. That’d be ridiculous. You couldn’t be more unfazed if you tried.

You grab your towel with what you’d call impressive swiftness, then turn around and stand, covering yourself before preparing to go on your merry way. Kaiser pulls you back by the ankle, trying to trip you or something, the menace. Hilarious guy, really.

He is staring up at you in this petulant sort of way, grabbing onto his own towel with his other hand. “Why are you leaving so soon?” he asks, sounding peeved, as if you haven’t been here with him for an unreasonable amount of time already.

“I thought I should give you some privacy since you’re all hot and bothered now,” you say (with this douchebag laugh you have for situations like these, where you’re being a douchebag — self-explanatory), stepping out of his grip. Then you try to imitate his voice, but more high-pitched, accompanying your performance with a few vulgar hand gestures. “Oh, [Y/n], you slanderous pig! I think that’s what you’d sound like.”

“You’re such a lowlife,” he says, before all but leaping out of the bath and trying to maim you right here on the spot, and the only thing to save you from your demise is that he gets lightheaded and almost faints immediately after.

You reach out to pull him up and keep him steady, holding him by the arms. “You can’t be jumping out of the bath like that, man, come on.”

The lack of response concerns you, but after a while, Kaiser gathers his wits enough to say, “I’m going to make you slip, and I’ll be praying you split your head open.”

You burst out laughing. “Do it, then. You don’t have it in you, do you?”

Instead of doing as he promised to retaliate to your provocation, he settles for letting go of you and glaring, before clutching the side of his head and going still again. If there was any medical wing in this goddamn football contraption, maybe you would’ve taken him, but alas. At least you don’t need to worry about Kaiser too much since he eventually concedes and holds onto your arm for support.

The sight of you two stumbling around towards the changing room is probably comedic — uncoordinated as hell, covering yourselves with these flimsy little towels, using the hands not clutching at the other.

“You’re supposed to drink a lot of water before getting in,” you say.

“It’s your fault! You didn’t warn me we were going.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you weren’t invited. Jeez.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You return the tiny towel to the basket, swapping it for a bigger one and making quick work of drying yourself. You’re slipping on your shirt when you ask, “Is your head all right now?”

“I’m fine.”

When you turn around to judge whether he’s being truthful or not, he’s dabbing himself in a manner which is way more laborious, examining his reflection in the mirror as if he’s in some slow motion commercial where the camera will capture a conspicuous water droplet falling down his neck, admiring his jaw from different angles. He makes you sick sometimes.

“I’m not gonna wait for you to finish checking yourself out.”

He shoos you away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Unlike his, your actions most often align with your words, though, so you do walk out of the door. You’re not even ten steps in when Kaiser reappears, now magically dressed.

“Stop rushing,” he says, pushing you out of the way — and for no reason! There’s enough space for both of you in the hallway. You end up lagging a bit behind him. “I’m dizzy.”

“I thought you said-”

“Blah, blah,” he cuts you off, untying his hair and doing a bad job of smoothing it out with his fingers.

You’re rooming with him and Ness, so you’re already headed in the same direction. As much as this stinks, your other option was Gesner and Grim. God, is fucking Gesner obsessed with dick cheese. Of all things, that’s what he’s always talking about. Grim has your condolences, but the problem is out of your hands now.

“Your hairstyle’s ridiculous.”

Kaiser turns his nose up and smiles, coming off as pleased by the insult. “You can only wish to pull it off.” Always preening like a peacock. He’s entertaining. You swear he is.

You hook one of the ends, where it’s the bluest, around your finger, twirling it around and around. “I had a dream about you recently.”

“Aww, I’m on your mind even when you’re unconscious. I could vomit right now.”

“You were in the meditation position, but you were levitating, and the rat tails were holding you up.”

Maybe you’ve committed some kind of utmost offense, because he doesn’t even bother insisting they’re not rat tails this time. “Wow, those are the kinds of things you dream about me? Your brain is defective to the core.”

“What do you want me to dream about you, then? Are you implying something?”

He faces you, and he has this way of looking at you like you’re a blight on humanity. You have an urge to press your palms against his cheeks to check how warm they get when he blushes, but resist it. “You’re so delusional.”

He’s rolling his eyes again.

“Keep rolling them, see where it gets you.”

“What, are you implying something?” Kaiser asks, mocking you, but he seems kind of happy at the insinuation. You’re not about to point it out, though, having a semblance of self-preservation.

“But anyway, your hair,” you say. “It looks good for tugging on.”

He snorts, either at your audacity to speak such things out loud to him, or at the way you straight up ignored his question.

So you elaborate, just so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “Yeah, like, I kinda wanna grab you and swing you around till you fly outta my grip.”

“What?! As if.”

“It’d be so funny, though.”

“Maybe to other stupid people like you. Dense people who always ruin the fucking moment, for example, that type of thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, stifling a laugh before entering the room.

The lights are still on when you come in. Ness seems to be reading some kind of book, sitting upright and all. “Hey, guys. You were gone for a while.”

“We were,” Kaiser says, you assume just because he likes hearing himself talk. “All that time I can’t get back.”

You crouch down to get him a water bottle in case he forgot how dehydrated he was (or more likely decides he’s above getting it by himself). It’s rare for you to do something out of the goodness of your heart, so when you turn around to pass it and find him draping himself over the solitary bed — the one you won dibs on in an honest round of rock, paper, scissors — you swear to never do anything nice for him ever again.

“Hey, get off! It’s mine.”

“But I want it,” he whines, as if his word holds more weight than the aforementioned game of rock, paper, scissors, which, as already established, you won.

You’re about to make an earnest attempt at throwing him out of the bed until Ness comes to his defense. “Come on, leave him alone.”

Saying no to Kaiser is exceptionally easy. But going against what Ness is asking? You can’t get a read on the guy. He’s either way too happy most of the time, or is secretly plotting your murders for all you know. You toss the water bottle at Kaiser, leaving him to smirk at your relenting.

“By the way, do you mind if I turn the lights off after I do my nighttime routine in the bathroom? I’m kind of tired,” Ness says.

“Sure,” allows Kaiser. So generous and charming with a winning personality to boot, this guy.

You lean against the bunk bed and ask, “Oh yeah, why are you still up?”

“I thought it might be rude if I went to bed before you both came back, so I decided to wait.”

Damn, now you feel kind of bad for dilly-dallying for so long. You clutch your chest with a tasteful sense of drama. “You’re so perfect. Hey, Ness, you wanna take the top bunk?”

“Wow, really?”

“Why not at this point,” you say. After all, Ness came in second in the game, but gave it up to Kaiser, and he ruined everything already.

“Thanks!” He grins at you before rushing off to do his business, almost blinding you with the sweetness he emits. Your gaze trails after him until he leaves the room.

Kaiser is looking at you with a mix between scorn and disgust when you walk over to his side to retrieve your phone from the bedside table, but you pretend not to notice.

Figuring you have nothing better to do, you take Ness’s previous spot, lying down on your stomach, ready to check your notifications. In your peripheral vision, you see Kaiser take his shirt off theatrically, then he has the fucking nerve to throw it at you. He makes such a big show out of existing.

It’s probably more painless to throw him a glance now than to be stubborn, so you exhale out of your nostril in resignation and turn your attention back to him. Kaiser props himself on his elbow while reclining on his side, posing on the bed, gracing you with a bastard smile. Almost presenting himself like a Renaissance painting you’re supposed to admire in some chaste, intellectual kind of way.

“Wanna know something?”

“What?” he asks, apparently irritated since you don’t seem so appreciative of him right now.

“I think shitty, obnoxious guys like you need to be put in their place,” you tell him.

It really is way too obvious on his complexion when he starts getting shy. He’s like a breathing mood ring. It’s almost fascinating. For a second, Kaiser is incredulous, but then he turns smug again, addressing you with a sense of challenge. “Don’t even joke. You’re not really about it like that. All you do is talk.”

You think you’re gonna start having even more fun together after today.

___

No homo I HATE HIM 😍

BLUELOCK REQS HERE!! Hehe how about (any characters you want) and what cute pet names reader and them use for each other and how they react when they first used it? Hope you have a great day!!

THEIR ENDEARMENTS FOR YOU?

featuring: itoshi rin. itoshi sae. michael kaiser. ryusei shidou. mikage reo. bachira meguru. isagi yoichi.

n. first time writing for the boys and i went overboard with 7 charas (i usually only write 4) and i could write more than this but it took every reflex in my body to stop myself. i might want to rewrite the rin one a separate full drabble in some short time ahead. thank you for the req sweetie, i hope you also have a great day/night >3<

ITOSHI RIN. you blinked, taken aback for some reason by the surprising nickname. a beaming grin appeared on your face as you made the decision to take advantage of the moment. “baby?” you repeated, teasing every piece of him. “since when did you start calling me that, rinnie?”

he rolled his eyes, clearly flustered. “don’t call me that,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. but you leaned closer, unable to resist teasing him further. “aww, does baby rinnie not like his new nickname?” you cooed, batting your eyelashes playfully.

rin’s eyes narrowed, and he huffed in annoyance. “fine, i’ll call you dumbass instead,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. it has come to a conclusion that you two will never stop pestering each other.

RYUSEI SHIDOU. "damn, sexy mama, lookin’ good," he called out, and before you could react, he grabbed the belt holes of your jeans, pulling you close with a playful tug. you could see the amusement in his smile and the naughtiness so very visible in his eyes.

you felt your cheeks heat up at his unexpected move and nickname. “shidou!” you exclaimed, half-laughing and half-embarrassed. “god, when did you come up with that?”

he leaned in, his hands messing up your hair. “just calling it like i see it,” he teased, pulling your hair back behind your ear as he lowered his lips right beside it. “you like it, doncha?”

MICHAEL KAISER. “i’m off to practice, mein liebling,” he tied his shoelaces as you stood by the door. you looked at him, puzzled by the unfamiliar words. “mein liebling?” tilting your head, wanting to tell you don’t understand any ounce of german. “what does that mean?”

kaiser smirked, clearly enjoying your confusion. “you can search for it yourself,” he replied, leaning back against the wall. “i’m a busy man, you see.”

you pouted, playfully nudging his shoulder. “come on, michael, tell me. is it something nice?” he chuckled, revealing his red eyeliner as he closed his eyes in amusement. “of course it is, idiot,” he teased. “i’m calling you an idiot in german.”

raising an eyebrow, you’re clearly unconvinced. but kaiser shrugged nonchalantly. “well, you’ll just have to trust me,” he continued, yet you caught a sly grin that flashed across his face. oh, he’s definitely messing with you.

MIKAGE REO. “here you go, milady,” he said, placing your cup in front of you with a flourish and a slight bow.

“milady?” you paused before taking a sip from your cup. “wow, reo, what a gentleman you are today,” you teased, maybe thinking of calling him ‘my lord’ in return.

the man stood up straight, smirking broadly, and sat down across from you with his knees crossed.. “well, i aim to please,” he replied, his tone light and teasing. “only the best for you, milady.”

ITOSHI SAE. your boyfriend raised an eyebrow, oblivious to the effect his words had on you. “is something wrong?” he was slightly concerned. “what’s up with you?”

you tried to suppress your flustered state, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “no, nothing’s wrong,” you stammered, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “it’s just… you called me ‘love’.”

he paused for a moment, then shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “i guess i did,” he said, sitting down across from you. “well, get used to it. because that’s how i feel about you, love.”

BACHIRA MEGURU. "here, cutiepie!" he jogged over to you, a big grin plastered on his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

you took his face and used the towel you were holding to wipe away his sweat. “cutiepie, huh?” you replied, pinching his cheeks with the other hand. “that’s a very sweet thing coming from you, meguru.”

bachira laughed, plopping down beside you and draping an arm over your shoulders. “well, i think it suits you perfectly,” voice always light and playful. “you’re the cutest person i know.”

ISAGI YOICHI. “hey, angel,” he greeted, his voice a bit shy as he scratched the back of his head. his cheeks were flushed, not just from the run, but also from calling you by the new nickname.

your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheeks. “you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, you know that?” you teased, pulling back slightly to see his reaction. “so, you’re calling me angel?”

isagi’s blush deepened, and he looked away, clearly embarrassed. “yeah, um… i just thought it suited you,” he mumbled, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “but if you don’t like it, i can stop.”

@uzurakis

WHO'S THAT BOY? - posting a picture with another boy

THIS includes : texts genre: crack

PAIRINGS: ISAGI, BACHIRA, NAGI, REO, RIN, SAE, SHIDOU, AIKU, CHIGIRI

IMRAESPACE masterlist

itoshi rin

you’re lounging around in bed— absentmindedly scrolling on your phone as an equally lazy rin lays beside you. that’s when you feel a soft, almost unnoticeable kitten lick at your neck.

you shiver. were you imagining things? no— you couldn’t be, because you felt it again. you turn to rin, raising an eyebrow at his antics.

he doesn’t feel the need to explain himself, only wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

it’s hard to tell what he wanted to achieve, but you can’t help but admire your boyfriend. he’s a bit silly, but he’s cute.

(this is referencing how he’s always got his tongue out haha, just an unserious idea i thought of at 1am)

Israel receives significant military and financial support from the United States and its allies, including advanced weapons, defense systems, and billions of dollars in annual financial aid.

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Please take your time to donate to Ibrahim and Nadeer's campaign, who has to live with constant bombardment from the merciless Zionists.

Ibrahim: €66,286/€80,000

Nader: €10,936/€50,000

if there was one thing you could miss about kaiser it’s being able to run your fingers through his long messy hair. it’s the way the tips of your fingers occasionally bumped on his scalp, it’s the way your fingers might’ve gotten stuck on a knot that you’d have to use an actual brush on, it was the way he’d show up to training with little untied and half-finished braids that would eventually just . . . fall after every goal, maybe it was also the way kaiser said he hated it but didn’t punch you in the face.

“ness, can you braid that side?” you ask the man that’s on the opposite side of you. kaiser looks annoyed—sitting with his legs crossed while the both of you guys knelt at his sides to play with his long hair. “sure but we have practice soon,” he responds with a smile and kaiser groans at his very enthusiastic teammate.

that’s why when ness agreed to cut kaiser’s hair, you felt betrayed—devastated, even. “oh good graciousness, when did that happen?” you ask with a jaw that’s wide open as you stare at his new hairstyle, it’s hard to describe into words but it’s really . . . eye-catching, especially with the blue hair dye that mixes with his blond hair.

“wanted to get rid of it.”

you don’t play with his hair anymore, mostly because you basically have nothing to tug on anymore other than the two stupid rat tails he has to which you have twisted together at least once. your finger-combing agenda suddenly vanished and your fidget toy which was his hair was replaced by numerous hair-ties and bracelets.

not like he minded. he finally had his hair for himself without some person overtaking it with their hands and he didn’t have to bother himself with putting it up any longer.

nope, he was totally lying—he did mind. he minded that there were no more hands—your hands—getting tangled in his hair and the dull pain that came with it. he minded the way your fingers fiddled with those objects instead of his hair. he didn’t necessarily care about his hair, he cared about your hands in his hair.

he thinks you’re being real stubborn,

kaiser is fed up now. the man is crazy enough to grab your wrist in the middle of nowhere when you’re twisting a black hair-tie and bring it to his head (CRINGE EWWW). “what are you doing?” you’re as shocked as you were the day you saw his new hairstyle—by instinct, you try to remove the fingers that are caught up in his locks but his grip is deadly and unwilling to let go. “exactly what it looks like.” he’s saying it straight-faced without an inch of regret in his actions nor words. you roll your eyes at his insistence because all this time, you thought he hated when you threaded your fingers around his hair. “didn’t you say you didn’t like me doing it?” you question, fingers unwilling to move. “i’ll hate you even more if you don’t move.” he grumbles.

but he’ll fix that.

sticky note. lowkey me just mourning his hair . . . someone please tell me kaiser won’t break plsplsplslpls don’t do this to me i can’tican’tican’t omg no bring kaiser back kaiser comeback when pls don’t go back to germany pls make it up with ness plspslpslpslsplspsls don’t die plsplsplsplsplsplspls

crushing on oblivious! bllk guys

part two (๑´ㅂ`๑)

characters: michael kaiser, ness, nanase, kunigami

this contains: reader is lowk like barbie. so many different jobs lmao.. anyways, lot of fluff and gn! reader :P oh, and reader is smoking a cigarette in ness’s one.. sorry it was the best thing i could think of hehe.. and in kunigami’s one you’re a cosplayer! :3

extra: yes, i really like michael kaiser, how could you tell?

kaiser doesn’t care about you. you’re just some random lowlife who sits around near the stadium to eat lunch. who eats in such a grimy place, anyways? and why are you so loyal to that bench? despite these questions, kaiser pays no attention to you. not until he catches sight of you one day. it’s only then, when he realises— you’re a freaking journalist. you’re writing away with one hand, the other clutching onto a fork as you balance your hunger with work. the man approaches, raising an eyebrow as you seem to stiffen. he says nothing, half relishing in the way you suddenly look so.. awkward. he grunts in slight annoyance as you stand back up, quickly walking away from him— leaving your beloved journal behind, only your lunch in hand as you practically speed down the street. he debates following after you, his slim hand reaching to pick up your journal. it’s cute, he notes; not something that he’d use, but he supposes that it suits you. the next time kaiser sees you, you’re at the same bench. looking around for your journal, he figures. he chuckles inwardly as a yelp escapes your lips— took you long enough to realise he was behind you. how can a journalist be so scatterbrained? well, it’s lucky that he was holding onto your little journal. “here,” he says, lips curling into a charming smile. that smile falters when you snatch the journal back from him, making yet another quick retreat. over the next few days, you don’t visit that usual bench. part of him wonders if he scared you off— he laughs at the thought, stepping out of the main building. kaiser feels.. oddly surprised when he sees you back on that bench. your eyes meet, and you give him a strange look. you really are strange, kaiser thinks to himself. the same thought crosses his mind when he sees you at one of his games— oh, right. you’re a journalist. but when you give him that familiar strange look, he finds himself hoping that you came for a different reason. not that he thinks you would, anyways— you’re always running off like a mouse.

ness thinks that you’re really cool. you seem to be a super bit fan of soccer— ‘cause he always sees you at his games! he never gets close enough to even think of saying something to you— but he really wishes he can one day. when that day actually does roll around, though, ness freezes. you’re in the car park of the stadium, leaning against a wall with a cigarette perched between your lips. you exhale slowly, the smoke drifting out through the night air and he swears his cheeks have turned red. you are so cool, he thinks to himself. “you need something?” you ask, your gaze drifting to meet with his— wow, you’re so much prettier up close. ness shakes his head, looking back at you. “..do you want one?” you raise an eyebrow at the man, and for a moment, he stands there in slight confusion. does he want a cigarette? normally, he would deny it as soon as possible. but now, he finds himself nodding hesitantly and stepping closer. his cheeks only flush further as you lean towards him, pushing off of the wall and plucking the cigarette out of your lips. wait, wait— this isn’t what he agreed to! what was he thinking, anyways!? he’s never smoked before! his eyes widen, but when he sees you smile, your expression brightening just a little, he relaxes. “if you wanted to talk you could just say so.” you say, looking back at the man, and he swears you’re dangerous. after that incident, he’d find himself looking out for you after matches— and he wonders if you’re waiting for him, or maybe if you like watching his games. should he say something? he smacks himself mentally for even thinking that, and smiles brightly as he approaches you again. you’re probably just very interested in soccer.

nanase doesn’t know what to feel about you. after training, he likes to visit the cafe down the street. you work there, and he’s discovered that you’re really good at making coffee. you draw cute little flowers and hearts on his cup sometimes, and nanase thinks his heart flutters when he notices it! you look so good, too— and, and— you’re standing in front of him again, holding a notepad in your hand, nodding slightly as he orders. he knows that you know he’s going to get the same as usual. you’re somehow always the one to serve him, but he’s not mad. in fact, he thinks he likes it. he feels weird when you return after a little while, and he feels even weirder after you leave. nanase gets these weird feelings around you, but he’s not sure why. maybe it’s the way you smile at him, or the cute drawings. or maybe he’s just overthinking this and you’re nice to everyone! yeah, that’s what it is. but when he sees your number scribbled onto his receipt with a heart beside it, his knees practically buckle. is it casual? is this casual!?

kunigami saw you for the first time at the gym— well, it was you, but you were cosplaying one of your favourite characters. when he stepped inside, he really didn’t expect to see (character) standing right in front of him getting ready to work out. the next time he saw you was after training one night. he was walking down a street, footsteps heavy against the pavement and his shoulders sagging before he hears.. heavier footsteps? he turns around, and flinches slightly at the sight of you— in full armour with a massive sword in your arms. he blinks back at you for a moment, slightly confused. “are you.. okay?” stupud question, but he’s curious. you nod, giving him a cute little peace sign and he thinks your demeanour is much from the outfit you’re wearing. you seem quite.. shy, almost. which is funny for a person in full armour. he lifts a hand, gesturing to his face for you to pull of the helmet. you comply, feeling your heart race just a little— you really didn’t expect to run into kunigami tonight. you came back from a con, feeling tired and super heavy— definitely not ready to talk to your secret crush. you look back at the man, and the.. strangely shy expression on your face is very out of place. you both stand there awkwardly for a few moments, before you quickly put your helmet back on and walk past him, saying something about “being in a hurry.” after that interaction, kinigami’s scrolling on tiktok; and he nearly drops his phone when he comes across your account. ah, so you’re a cosplayer; he clicks onto your profile, deciding he’d like to see some of your recent posts. what did you mean by saying “just ran into my crush in cosplay nobody talk to me” on your newest video? he wonders how many other people you ran into tonight.

the first time you go to reo's house, he makes sure to show you every inch of the place that has a chance of impressing you. his ultra smart fridge, the 200 inch tv in his living room, his pool that is at least two times the size of your house... it all screams money.

we all know this man is whipped, so anything you show even the slightest interest in magically becomes yours, no matter how expensive the price tag is. it could literally be a family heirloom and he'll be like "you like it? you can have it if you want."

a notable moment on your little tour around his house was when you stopped by a painting on a wall. it's just a simple portrait. simple, yet it caught your eye with the detail and talent expressed on the canvas.

reo almost immediately noticed you weren't following him anymore, rushing to your side once more. "oh, this one?" he lifts it from the nail it's being hung from. "it's just an old painting from a few centuries ago... the original one too. it's only worth a couple hundred thousand though."

you look down at the painting in his hands, and you look up at him again. "why are you giving it to me?"

"do you want me to wrap it up for you, or..?"

please, don't use this to your advantage. you could rob him dry and he wouldn't know a thing.

bllk m.list