ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION

HI NISHIIII, for the event can I get kaiser with spicy, 🍮 and rivals to lovers ? 🍮 THANK U 😼

ORDER 10: READY TO GO !

kaiser + spicy + eye contact + rivals to lovers w.c. 1k+

note. this is for you, no.1 kaiser kisser 🤭 it literally took everything in me (fighting my demons) not to spoil the story for you cus i am a chronic yapper, and i tell you basically everything i write LMAO

interested in more? check out the lounge !

your team would probably shun you if they saw you right now— fraternizing, if you could even call it that, with the enemy. 

you can’t find it in you to blame them, reminding yourself of what position you’d been in, just ten minutes prior. the score on the big screen read 3:2, bright and bold and red, and mocking you— no, mocking your team. the tangible, irrefutable proof that your team had just suffered one of its most devastating losses of the season. you remind yourself of the way their shoulders quivered, the way they all turned away from one another, as they tried to process this grief on their own. you think that you probably should’ve felt numb, that your ears should’ve been ringing as the cheers of the stadium droned on and on, and that you should’ve felt the crushing weight of the loss that your team had just suffered. that as their manager, who had seen them through their highs and lows, it was also your duty to feel what they do. 

and yet, there you were, blatantly ogling the man who stood in the center of the field; gloating in his victory, accepting the praises that rained on him, all while staring right at you too. kaiser always makes a show out of it, always making sure your eyes are locked onto him as he lifts his shirt— fingers gripping the hem of his jersey as he pulls the fabric up, to dab at the sweat that lines the crown of his forehead, exposing his glistening skin and the way the sweat rolls off the ridges of his abs. 

you know he finds entertainment in the way your eyes travel down, almost instinctively, trailing the singular drop of sweat that rolls down the line of his body, before your eyes snap back up. he’s smug, irritatingly so, and all too aware of the fact that you could not rip your eyes away from him. he does this, every time; you fall for it, every time. 

it’s like a trance, and the shame you feel after is overwhelming. only then do you find yourself walking away, back to the tunnel and the hallways of the stadium, trying to bury the shame and the image of his body into the depths of your mind.

but, like everything else with kaiser, he never makes it easy to forget him. he's always hot on your heels, lingering around you, reminding you of his presence. to rub in his win, or for something else, you're never really sure.

"you know, it hurts me that you always avoid me after.” you freeze, every muscle in your body tensing at the familiar sound of kaiser’s voice. he’s standing there, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. he still hasn’t changed out of his jersey, skin still glistening with sweat, and chest heaving— ignoring the way the rest of his team walks off into the locker rooms without him. “can’t stand being close to me after a win? or is it something else that’s got you all riled up?"

your stomach churns at the insinuation, and despite yourself, your body betrays you— your head turns to face him, eyes flicking to glance at him, and catching his gaze. but the feeling is short-lived, and you peel your eyes away from him almost immediately, finding faux fascination in the clipboard in your hands. “i’m not sure i’m catching your drift,” you lie. 

the scoff under his breath is hard to miss, with the way the sound slightly echoes in the, now empty, hallways. you hear everything in here— the rustle of his jersey as he unfurls his arms, his footsteps, and the way they get louder with each step as he stalks closer to you. the deliberation in his steps, and the way he takes long, but slow, strides towards you. enjoying the way your body tenses in anticipation. 

“you know what i mean. ogling a player from the opposing team, huh?” kaiser appears from behind you, and you instinctively flinch at his voice. you can feel the way his breath tickles the skin of your nape, lacking a concept of personal space or maybe just not caring, as leans down to level with you. “you seemed to be enjoying yourself back there.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you huff, looking the other way as he perches his chin on top of your shoulder. you can feel the heat of his gaze as he looks at side of your face, intense and unyielding— and flustering. “i wasn’t.” a lie.

kaiser knows. “sure.” because he catches the way the tips of your ears bloom into a deep crimson, and he laughs softly at this— a low, deep sound that reverberates in your ears. “you hate me, right?” he questions you, but the smirk is evident in his tone. 

“i do,” you say with as much conviction, another lie, but determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you bothered— affected, by him. “i despise you,” and you want to believe it yourself. but your voice betrays you, it falters, it loses that animosity that has his smirk spreading into a grin. 

you make the mistake of glancing at him again, watching as something flickers in his eyes. something along the lines of intrigue, satisfaction, like you’d said exactly what he had wanted to hear. a bold lie, a challenge for him to disprove because he knows you’re lying. that, despite claiming that you despise him, you can’t stop the way you crave to see him. 

“then,” he straightens his body, no longer leaning on you for support. and as you try to look away from him again, to escape him, he stops you. his left hand crawls up your left arm, leaving a line of goosebumps in its path as it travels up— you feel the way they hover over your shoulder, and then the junction of your neck, tracing your jaw as his deft fingers find their way to your chin. it’s aggressive— the way he tilts your chin to the right, forcing you to glance up at him, right into his eyes. “why do you never push me away?” he asks, his voice dipping in a way that makes your pulse race. “unless, you’re secretly enjoying this.”

© rindreamery, 2025

My Worries Come in Phallic, Freudian Shapes

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2k TYPE: Established Relationship, It's basically just Kaiser tweaking for no reason 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ (I find it funny but interpretations may vary) WARNING(S): Kaiser's overactive imagination?

Kaiser would like to say he’s quite numb to being separated from you. Sometimes you come along with him at away games, if possible, but in other instances you have to be apart sometimes even for months, and Kaiser likes to think he manages it well.

You’re not on his mind much when he’s training or during a game. Mostly his times of weakness happen outside of that, though Kaiser doesn’t let it get to him. For example, he does this fun exercise where if his mind strays towards you too often or when he can sense the void in his chest is beginning to take on a suspicious shape, he holds out on texting or calling you for as long as possible. To test his will — which is something normal people do like all the time, of course — and because wanting to distract himself gives him extra neurotic energy to burn when he’s doing his exercises.

Not that Kaiser becomes neurotic over you or anything. It’s not even a big deal to him.

He’s sure you miss him more than he misses you. He’s confident you do. After all, to him, it’s no big deal, as previously stated. It’s true.

He doesn’t worry about small and nonsensical things like how you’d probably prefer a more present and available boyfriend, and how you’re free to do whatever you want with remarkable ease when you’re seas and oceans away from him.

Kaiser’s eye twitches while he continues shoving the last of his belongings back into his luggage, since he needs to pack for his flight back home. This train of thought isn’t going anywhere good — he needs to abandon it. Besides, a second with Michael Kaiser is worth way more than a month with some stupid, worthless commoner. Your shitty replacement for him will never rival the real deal.

No, this is stupid. You love him, you don’t have a replacement for him. Right? You wouldn’t betray him while he’s away. You’re his first and only love, you can’t do that to him, can you? You know he’d kill you if you did it and he found out, don’t you?

This is stupid. He wouldn’t kill you! Kaiser doesn’t want to kill you. He should stop thinking about this… You wouldn’t do it to him either anyway, you love him back. Kaiser knows you do, so why does it not feel real most of the time?

What if you’ve fallen out of love with him, though? Maybe you look forward to when he has to go away for long. Forget all about him the moment he’s out of your sight, don’t spare him a single thought, have fun with your little friends while he’s gone, all that.

You probably get together and you start shit-talking him with them the way people do about their good for nothing boyfriends sometimes. They call his haircut stupid and you cackle along with them, then you tell them how insecure and unlovable he really is, and actually his dad beat him as a child so now he’s barely human, how it makes him an arrogant and pretentious piece of trash pretender, and then you’re like ‘I wish I had a normal boyfriend instead of Michael’, and they’re all like ‘you deserve a normal boyfriend, this is fucked up’, and you’re empowered to free yourself of your burden. So he comes back home and you pick him up from the flight and you break the news to him that you’re leaving him and he has to move his belongings back to his place.

Maybe you have a new fling already, but it’s nothing serious because you still need to dump Kaiser and all. And he’s like in finances or something, an accountant maybe, who works normal hours (not the overachieving workaholic type who stays behind to do extra), and he probably doesn’t have footage of him having meltdowns on live TV for everyone to see. There are no interviews where he’s acting bitchy, no compilations of him acting cruel or ‘crashing out’ or whatever else. And he probably grew up in an average household — they weren’t rich or anything, but his parents made time for him. They were loving and nurtured him to be a rightful member of society, raising him to be someone worth your affection…

Holy shit does Kaiser feel unhinged. Literally why is he making up this entire story in his head? It never happened.

It didn’t, right? You wouldn’t do it to him, would you? You love him. You really, really, really love him, like from the bottom of your heart, somehow you love him and you don’t want to hurt him, even if you’re probably sick of him being away and of his problems and his attitude and his everything. If you had a magic wand, he wagers you’d wave it and change him on a neurochemical level, keep his looks and his successes, but get rid of the unnecessary baggage.

Or would you keep him as he is and love that ugly thing? Can you? Do you have it in you? Are you just tolerating him for some monetary benefits or out of pity with your knowledge of his past? Do you still love him? Will you love him a few hours from now or are you going to get bored? Are you bored and antsy waiting for him and is it affecting your feelings, suffocating your love to zero each moment he’s not by your side, each reunion only serving to put off the inevitable? Is the novelty wearing off? Do you need novelty?

Kaiser fights off the impulse to write you a text message threatening suicide and then turning off his phone until the end of the flight to keep you on your toes. A flashy move in attention seeking for sure, but for one you don’t even know he’s in a mind war with you, so you’re more likely to be confused than begging for him not to do it and for his forgiveness, though maybe it could earn him a reassurance of love and care. Regardless, Kaiser is not taking the chance because if you ignore him or don’t see the message it’ll just devastate him.

And also he kind of doesn’t want to act like that. Well, he does, but the rational part of him is also still awake and holding him back. You won’t appreciate that. Right now the strife he’s going through is completely imaginary, but if he goes and acts crazy outside the confines of his mind, he really might fuck everything up.

If he makes too many mistakes, you might fall out of love with him, and if you fall out of love with him, you’ll leave him. Kaiser thinks about what he’d do in that case. Without you he is nothing besides an unwanted waste of breath — you’re the sole person who got close enough to see beneath his nonsense and decide to tolerate it, attracted beyond frivolity for an enigmatic reason.

Maybe the perpetrator behind this strange limbo of weird hysteria is Kaiser’s low self-esteem. It always circles back to that and he is sick of it. He doesn’t understand why you subject yourself to him and here, a whole ordeal.

Whatever anymore. Kaiser doesn’t even care. It’s a pointless matter to lose his mind over. He knows you cherish him, and even if you didn’t, he’d get over it. Life moves on. There are other fish in the sea…

Actually, if you tried to leave him, Kaiser has so many things he would do, they’d earn him a restraining order. First he’d resort to begging and ugly crying, but he doubts it’d sway you. He’d need to be more extreme.

No, that’s silly. If you separated, he’d react to it like a normal person, right? He wouldn’t do a thing. He’d let you leave without any theatrics and move on. Right? It’s what he would do, Kaiser decides.

Or maybe he can get a leg up on you and catch you out when you begin losing interest in him and he can work to win you back over. You won’t even know what hit you. Yea, Kaiser will scheme to sweep you off your feet.

Not that he cares that much to put so much effort in… It’s just his strength and natural calling as an unbothered male manipulator.

___

After the packing and the waiting at the airport and all that, Kaiser survives a restless flight. He tried to read a book during it, but he turned out not to enjoy it whatsoever (catastrophe). Then he turned to Gesner, who was sitting next to him and seemed like he wanted to kill himself, and told him in detail about all the plot problems and why this was what made nonfiction superior.

To Gesner’s relief Kaiser also spent a good chunk of it trying to sleep, though the endeavor was useless. He closed his eyes and his pattern of anxious cyclical thinking continued and he failed to doze off. What do you think about accountants? Maybe your side piece wouldn’t have any tattoos because you secretly find his corny and you’ve sworn off tattooed men. ‘I mean, seriously, just put the eyeliner on like a real man.’ Kaiser would bet this is what you’re saying to your friends.

Anyway, again, his flight was spent stirring in ridiculous thoughts in that vein. If nothing else, actually, if you knew what was running through his head, that would be what would put you off of him. But you don’t. He needs to just… keep it to himself and it’ll be fine.

So you find each other after some stumbling and chaos and some vague text exchanges like ‘where are you?’, ‘At the airport obviously’, ‘you think you’re so funny’, and so on, and when you spot each other, you grin upon the sight of him (hard to fake such immediate happiness, Kaiser concludes) and spread your arms out for a hug.

Kaiser rolls his eyes. You’re so cute, he wants to squeeze you to death, but regardless he puts on a big show of what an inconvenience this is and gives you a stiff, nonchalant embrace. The way you hold him is a small reassurance. You’re still in public though, so he needs to play it cool for a bit longer, and he reluctantly peels himself away from you.

You interrogate him about his time away while he’s your passenger princess on the way home. Kaiser takes it as a good sign you’re still interested in his life at least enough to ask, as if there was a possibility he was going to come back and you just… wouldn’t give a fuck about him or what he’s been up to. He keeps his answers vague, trying not to let on the almost daily mental torment he’s been subjecting himself to just because his brain can’t stop making up stupid narratives.

Once you two arrive, and only when you’re inside, does Kaiser give into his desire for your affection. He wraps you up in a way tighter embrace without intention of letting go and peppers your face in kisses.

The first time he acted like that with you upon coming back, you were rightfully weirded out, but now you’re used to this whole routine and let him have his moment of rare forwardness.

“You know,” he says, “I missed you like, a little bit.”

“It’s hard to tell,” you say, sarcastic.

Kaiser ignores it. He bites your cheek. Not hard enough to hurt at all, but it’s a strange sensation.

“So gross.”

“I hope you weren’t doing anything stupid without me. I wouldn't want to miss out on any fun.”

“I wasn’t.”

“What do you think about accountants?”

You raise an eyebrow at the random question, but humor him anyway. “Can’t say I think anything in particular about them.”

“Is that so…”

For some reason, you find his tone to sound suspicious? There is a harder bite — your skin might be a bit irritated around there for a few minutes. You wonder if Kaiser was arguing with management or something somewhere abroad.

___

I just wrote this because I thought Kaiser having emotional impermanence (which is likely) would be hilarious I promise I'll write a more plot-oriented one shot soon again

GOD HELP ME

source: @BLUELOCK_EGOTEN on X

blue lock ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cute/funny moments with the blue lock boys !

itoshi sae ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he sucks at cooking

sae growing up only knew how to play football. he never paid attention to class or even bothered to learn anything else since he was too focused on football. really, that was his only weakness, but surely his cooking skills cant be that bad right?

you always cooked for him, well since it was a natural thing for you to...you didnt mind cooking for him and you, even if you got off work. you just felt as if it was your job to do so.

sae doesnt express it much, but he appreciates the work you put into your work and the house. you clean, cook, and do the laundry, he couldnt have asked for better.

you had overtime today since saes birthday was coming up, you wanted to surprise him with lots and lots of gifts! (even though hes a rich man).

you 6:34pm overtime today. might come home late! sae 6:57pm alright.

sae didnt come home to dinner, or to your kisses you gave him when he entered in. just welcomed with the darkness that engulfed the room. he put away his things and began to change out of his clothes to more comfortable ones.

he didnt have anything else to do. so why not try to cook up a meal for you since you always took care of it for him. he might as well just repay the times youve cooked.

luckily you were glad it wasnt that long of overtime, you could just go home and quickly cook up a meal for sae!

not even inside of the house yet, you smell something burning...? very concerning you quickly grabbed your keys and open the door to smoke everywhere.

"ah-what the..!" you rush to the kitchen and see sae...

"sae what the hell did you do?!" you grabbed a nearby book, swaying it around to get the smoke out of your way.

sae only clicks his tongue in annoyance. "it said to boil two cups of water." raising his phone up. you walk up to the stove and to your literal horror, theres actually two cups on the stove.

"it meant the measurement!" you grabbed your mittens and grabbed the cubs that melted onto the stove already. your beautiful cups were ruined....

you curl up the book in your hand and hit sae with it on his head.

"youre not allowed in the kitchen anymore."

nagi seishiro ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he hurt you on accident

it was yours and nagis day off meaning you guys can spend time together! though he was a lazy bum so really all you guys would ever do was just cuddle up with each other in his bed.

he saw it as comfortable silence as he played his game on his phone while you laid on his chest, either napping or just waiting for him to get off to watch a movie or something.

"almost done?" you poke at his chest.

"one more." he glanced at you before returning his gaze to his game. you pout but laid your head against his chest again, at least hearing his heartbeat was calming enough to let it slide for a bit.

you ended up kind of napping, but you can hear the faint sounds of his shooting game and him talking to himself.

you grumble, shifting into a bit more comfortable position, accidentally hitting his arm and that made him lose his balance with his phone. dropping it on your forehead.

"ah-" nagi looks at mid air before slowing shifting his gaze down.

a loud thud was heard when his phone made contact with your head and the room was filled was silence.

nagi blinks a bit for turning his head to the side, as if he did nothing.

"sei." you spoke, not moving an inch from where you were.

"what." he rest his hand on his head to soothe your forehead, like he wasnt the one who did that.

"im taking your phone." you grip his phone a little too tight a crack was heard.

kaiser michael˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ brushing his hair

theres not a single night where you guys wouldnt sleep with each other, other than him leaving the country for football tournaments or so. but when you guys were together, its a must to sleep together.

and knowing kaiser for a long time now, you know how crazy his bed hair gets and he gets really grumpy about it its kind of funny.

waking up earlier than kaiser, youre set on preparing breakfast before he starts his daily training with ness and his other members.

humming random songs that come to your mind while cooking, you can hear faint footstep approaching the kitchen.

shifting your attention to the side, you can see your boyfriend, who still looks half-asleep with his hair that looks like he had a bad hair day.

you giggled to yourself, setting the spoon aside. "good there misha?" walking up to him to give your morning kisses.

he can only grumble, returning the kiss back.

"hurry up and brush my hair." he scratches his head.

"how does it always get this bad?" you laughed at him before dragging him to your vanity. settling him down, grabbing the hair brush to carefully handle his hair.

kaiser loved when you brushed his hair, it was always so calming for him and felt relaxing. its like he can only focus on you and him.

"let me know if i accidentally hurt you okay?" you shift to the side to look at him thru the mirror, his eyes were closed and he only lets out a low hum.

this was his moment of peace, just you brushing his hair while he relaxed under the comforts of your presence.

itoshi rin ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ playing horror games

rin had a hobby of either watching or playing horror games. he had asked you if you wanted to give it a try, after a few nos, he finally convinced you.

"rin! where do i go im scared!" you walked up the trail while looking at your surroundings. you were in the forest, and it was just you and your flashlight.

"just keep walking." rin watched from the side, his hand on your shoulder while his other hand rested on the desk. he had already played this game prior but wanted to see you do it.

"no theres going to be a jumpscare i know it!" you stopped and shivered in the chair.

"there isnt i promise." he guided your hand on the keyboard to keep on going. he was lying, he knew all the jumpscares and ques, he just thought itd be funny to see you scared.

you grumble under your breath before continuing to walk, there was a corner you had to turn and you got scared. pressing the "w" key every one second, step by step, scared there was a jumpscare.

"whats with the intense music?!" you took a couple steps forward while your body was leaned back in case of the scare. you finally made the turn and there was nothing. you let out a sigh of relief before looking at rin.

"see?" rin leaned closer.

"yeah whatever." you turned around and there was an unexpected jumpscare, which was ridiculously loud and you jumped from your seat with a yelp, the headset hit rins chin and he let out a groan.

he rubbed his chin with a sigh and you eyed at him. "you said there wasnt any you liar!" you took off the headset.

"thats the fun of it."

isagi yoichi ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ his hair is so fluffy

at blue lock, isagi never really mind, but also never understood why almost everyone patted his head. its because his hair is so fluffy, he doesnt even know it!

whenever he laid on his bed, youd laid on top of him, just to touch that hair of his, seriously it was like fur but better! plus that v shape ahoge was cute to touch when it always just reverted back to the shape.

"not you too [name]..." he sighed and you giggled.

"but your hair is so soft!" both of your hands massaged his hair. he didnt mind it, it actually felt quiet good.

"is it..?" he raised an eyebrow at you. he never even noticed if that was the reason why people tend to touch his hair a lot. but that could explain a lot then.

"yeah its like fur!" you laid your head on top of his hair, rubbing it against your cheek, inhaling the blueberry scent shampoo he always used.

isagi laughs, he thinks its cute you find his hair soft, hes blushing like he still has the biggest crush on you. your yoichi is so adorable <3

mikage reo˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ can you get out prank

together for two years already and you guys are super comfortable with each other! reo was always a serious man but you wondered how he react to your silly pranks on him.

"babe?" you come towards him with a dress. it was a pretty peach color and very flowy.

"hm?" he looked up from his phone, eyeing at you.

"can you get out?"

"for what?"

"so i can change." and there reo looked confused. hes seen you naked before, so what difference does that make? maybe you just wanted to surprise him.

"you gonna surprise me with the dress?" he raised an eyebrow while rubbing his nape.

"no i just dont want to change in front of you." and thats when he becomes really confuse. he tilts his head and his lips formed a straight line.

"woman i fucked y-" he suddenly blurted out and you jumped on the bed shushing him. did he really have to say it like that?!

"i was just kidding, dont say it like that!" reo realizes that you were joking and laughed, patting your head.

hiii just something quick before i start writing again! please be patient im so sorry for the lack of postsss T^T

p-pookie, can i get an accidental confession (where we or them accidentally confessed) with the blue lock boys.

(insert ant meme here) — 😺

WHAT DO YOU MEAN? - you accidentally confessed

THIS includes : texts genre: crack NOTE: i was listening to justin bieber when i wrote the header.. anyways omg its meow anon..😱 i made this when i was sleepy(that's why theres so many typos..) and one brain cell was working i promise im not weird also i think i went over board.

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

IMRAESPACE masterlist

attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.

"𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

kaiser was used to getting what he wanted. 

a childhood of fists and slurred threats had taught him that power belonged to the strongest, the smartest, the ones who knew how to control the board. his father had controlled through fear. his mother had controlled through absence. he had learned to control through understanding. not to heal, but to win. 

that was why he read. psychology books lined his shelves, not for self-improvement, but for strategy. he picked apart minds the way he picked apart defenses on the field, exploiting weaknesses to his advantage. every opponent had an insecurity, a trigger, a soft spot. teammates were no different. he whispered the right words at the right time, making them believe in him, bend to him. he played the game not just with his feet, but with his mind. 

and he won. always. 

until you. 

you were supposed to be another challenge, another prize. kaiser was good-looking, successful, charismatic, no one told him no. but you did. not rudely, not cruelly. just a simple, unwavering “no” that threw him off balance more than any defender ever had. 

“you’re not ready for me,” you had said. “not like this.” 

he had scoffed, laughed it off, but something in your eyes unsettled him. you saw through him. the masks, the manipulations, the carefully crafted persona he had spent years perfecting. you weren’t interested in his charm, his success, or the way he could twist words to make people crumble. 

you wanted something he didn’t know how to give. 

“come back when you’ve stopped running,” you told him. 

at first, he convinced himself you were playing hard to get. that you’d come around, like they all did. but days turned to weeks, then months, and you didn’t waver. every time he saw you, you were the same. honest. steady. unmoved by his tactics. 

it pissed him off. 

kaiser found himself standing in front of a mirror late one night, gripping the edge of the sink, knuckles white. the bathroom lights flickered slightly, an old wiring issue he hadn’t bothered to fix. his breath came hard and fast. another bad game. another night where he’d screamed at his teammates for mistakes that were just as much his fault as theirs. he had watched their faces, the way their shoulders tensed, the way their confidence shrank. 

he knew that feeling. 

he had worn it once, long ago, cowering under his father’s drunken rage. 

the thought hit him like a punch to the gut. his grip on the sink tightened as he forced himself to look at his reflection. dark circles beneath his eyes, tension in his jaw, a sneer twisting his lips. he looked like a man who resented the world. like a man who needed control to survive. 

like his father. 

a sickening wave of nausea curled in his stomach. he stumbled back, his breath coming sharp and ragged. he clenched his fists, shaking his head. 

no. that wasn’t him. he wasn’t like that. 

but wasn’t he? 

hadn’t he built his entire life on power, on knowing exactly how to bend people to his will? hadn’t he used his words like his father had used his fists? maybe not in violence, but in force. in control. 

a trembling breath escaped his lips. he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the memory away. the stench of beer on his father’s breath, the sharp sting of words that cut deeper than any blow. “you’ll never be anything. you’re just like me.” 

no. 

he had spent his entire life trying to prove that wrong, but maybe in the end, he had just become the same poison, poured into a different bottle. 

that night, he barely slept. he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the realization that for all his intelligence, all his careful calculations, he had never once truly looked at himself. 

but you had. 

𐙚

kaiser found you at the park just before sunset. the sky was painted in streaks of orange and pink, the air crisp with the fading warmth of the day. you were sitting on a wooden bench near the soccer field, watching a group of kids kick around a ball, their laughter ringing through the air. 

he hesitated for a moment, hands in his pockets, before forcing himself to move forward. the old him would have had a plan, a perfect script to sway you. but now, he had nothing but the truth. 

so he sat beside you, letting a moment of silence settle between you both before speaking. 

“i don’t know how to be better,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “i only know how to win. and i don’t want to do that with you.” 

you turned to look at him, studying him in that way you always did, like you saw past everything he tried to be and straight to everything he was. 

he braced himself, expecting rejection, expecting you to say that it was too late. 

but you didn’t. 

“you’re trying,” you said softly. “that’s enough.” 

his chest tightened. his whole life, worth had been measured by success, by control. but here you were, telling him that just the act of trying was enough. 

“you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he asked, half a smile pulling at his lips. 

you shook your head, though there was warmth in your eyes. “no. if it was easy, it wouldn’t mean anything.” 

he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the kids still playing. 

“then i guess i’ve got work to do.” 

you smiled, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he wasn’t running. 

he was finally standing still. 

and maybe, just maybe, that was how he really won you. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: kaiser is one of my favorite written characters and i definitely see a lot of people get him wrong. this video does a really good job of explaining who he is and i highly recommend it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD77we_jtQQ&list=LL&index=8 

he definitely doesn't deserve to have grown up the way he did, but i also want to include the message in here to not repeat generational cycles. sometimes, we can even do it unconsciously, but catch yourself before it becomes too familiar. work on yourself, healing is the best thing you can do for yourself. sending much love to everyone reading this 🫶🏻

kaiser has always been uncomfortable when other people touched him.

he couldn’t help but feel like that same little kid who always had tears leaking out of his eyes every time his father laid hands on him. he can’t help but feel weak; vulnerable, even. it’s pure reflex for kaiser to slap whoever is touching him away. whether it’s a child, a woman, or a teammate. it’s all the same to him; why are they laying their hands on him?

he shows no ounce of regret when he slaps them away too harshly, when they yelp out in pain. many times, they didn’t mean to touch him. it was just an accident, they would say. well they should have just been more careful; such a stupid accident to occur, in his opinion.

but kaiser had no problem touching someone else as long as it caused some sort of discomfort to the other person.

he couldn’t care less; it made him feel…strong. powerful, even. if he was the one causing harm, then he couldn’t be hurt anymore. he wasn’t the little kid who curled up in the corner and hugging a soccer ball, he was the one making the other person curled up in the corner. and it was satisfying, it really was.

but the same discomfort comes to him whenever he’s touching someone in a way that isn’t harmful. hugs—even the ones his teammates give to him after he scores—make him feel nauseous. only after he goes to the bathroom to place his fingers and palms tightly around his neck does he finally feel better. even when he sleeps, and you accidentally touch him in the middle of his rest, he wakes up instantly, in a ready position to kick you away.

so imagine how stiff you become when kaiser lays his head on your chest, his arms around your waist, silent snores escaping him.

you don’t move in the least, your arms awkwardly at your side, and your palms turning sweaty on the couch. you slow down your breathing nearly instantly. please don’t wake up, please please please please don’t wake up.

—

sunlight cascades down on kaiser’s face as he pushes his eyes open. he yawns, but doesn’t get on. his mattress is too soft, too comfortable to—

wait, his mattress?

his bulging open, kaiser looks up and sees you asleep, a small line of drool leaking down the corner of your mouth and incoherent mumbling escaping your lips. his entire body is atop of yours, hands placed on your back as if it were meant to be placed on your body. strangely, the nausea doesn’t come. only the faint flush on his face and the tip of his ears, and the feeling of someone tugging on his heartstrings.

that someone being you, like you always do.

whether you’re cooking him something when he wakes up, or telling him about how much you love him, his heartstrings always seem to be getting pulled on when you’re around. and his eyes, they never seem to be looking anywhere but you whenever you’re around. how many goals has he silently dedicated to you at a match? how many times has he caught himself subconsciously smiling when you’re around?

and when kaiser feels himself gently brushing your hair away from your face without an ounce of discomfort his eyes fixated on your sleeping face, that’s when he knows.

you’re the one.

Michael Kaiser — BETRAYAL

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.2k TYPE: Humor, Established Relationship WARNING: Kaiser 😰

You wake up to someone shaking your shoulders. This is immediately alarming, but what’s even worse is that once your eyes flutter open, the obnoxious lights blind you. Your eyes shut close again, but you’re confused — for one you did not see the perpetrator, which means there might be an intruder in your house or something, and the other thing is, you recall turning off the lights before going to bed. So maybe it’s a poltergeist or something.

No need to fret for long. Soon enough you hear a familiar voice speak, his tone demanding and intonation annoying (as usual). “What have you done?”

You rub at your eyes some more and try to blink them open. It still hurts, but finally your brain processes that Kaiser has come back. Though the last time you spoke to him about his arrangements after the away game, he claimed he’d come back on Monday in the morning. Instead he’s already home two days earlier at an odd hour.

Did he lie to you? Well, you don’t have enough time to mull on this matter because Kaiser continues.

“How could you do this to me?!”

“Wha… What did I do?”

Nothing noteworthy you could’ve done comes to mind. There is a large amount of drool in the corner of your mouth, so you wipe it with the back of your hand as your awareness stirs more, warding off your drowsiness. While you’re glad it’s no longer painful to merely look at things, it also means you’ll have trouble falling asleep again because of Kaiser’s histrionics rousing you too much.

He’s very much still in his airport clothes and his suitcase seems to have been dumped in front of your side of the bed, placed in such a position which has been undoubtedly calculated with a high chance of your tripping on it in the morning in mind. You open your mouth to scold him about it and to order him to put his shit someplace else, but instead Kaiser keeps making a scene,

“I go out of my way to surprise you by returning at such an inhumane part of the day-”

You roll your eyes while Kaiser gesticulates. Your lack of amusement isn’t a deterrent to him at all, this fact made clear by the way he ignores what you did to go on with his charade.

“-and what greets me when I first step into our bedroom? YOU. Lying in OUR bed. With ANOTHER MAN.”

…

…

…?

“What?” you ask. “What man?”

“He’s right there. Do you think I’m stupid? You think you can gaslight your way out of this one?” Kaiser is still yelling. In fact he’s yelling so much, you’re really considering maybe some man materialized under your sheets because otherwise it makes no sense why Kaiser would be so convincingly angry. And yet you know there is no one else besides you inside of the property, so you can’t muster a response more appropriate than a scratch of your head. “How could you do this to me? After everything we’ve been through together. Answer me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the man in your arms!”

“You’re driving me crazy,” you say, both bewildered and stunned by your own perplexity. “There’s no man in my arms!” You’re not even sure why you’re treating this as if you’re giving it any sort of weight when Kaiser is clearly making stuff up for attention and a grand entrance.

“Yes there is. He’s right here.” With unnecessary aggression, Kaiser wrenches something out of your grip and then holds it up in the air, eyebrows furrowed like he just dug in trash instead of take a belonging of yours. With that belonging being the forty centimeter Michael Kaiser plushie you sleep with when he’s gone (its usual residence being the side of the closet he doesn’t use), filling the void on his side of the bed.

Yes, you’re crazy like that, but it’s besides the point. Not to mention you kind of forgot you were cuddling with it, since you were so preoccupied with Kaiser’s strange behavior and unexpected appearance back in the house.

After a moment your stupor wears off. “Are you serious?! You woke me up in the middle of the night to play some stupid joke on me?”

Kaiser smirks at you and lets out an evil and, might you add, effeminate giggle. Then he moves the plush back and forth in front of your face with an expression so smug, you feel a compulsive urge to punch him. “Look at him. His face is so smarmy and he’s just disgusting. Not to mention the way he stares at people is fucking creepy and perverted with that soulless smile. Even his eyes don’t sparkle. Unlike mine, of course.”

You let out a sound of frustration, you can’t hold it in. Why is Kaiser tormenting you with his merch design critiques at a time that can be considered both morning and late at night simultaneously? “Wh- he’s not sentient, how are his eyes supposed to sparkle? And why are you acting like he’s alive?”

Kaiser continues to smile at you. His expression remains smug and serene. It’s obvious he’s not guilty about waking you up at all. If anything he seems refreshed — maybe causing drama with such swiftness has a rejuvenating effect on him.

“Well, he’s modeled after you, anyway,” you say, bringing his attention to where the faults in the form may originate from.

“Honestly I don’t know how you can feel fine sleeping at night next to that thing and not scream in terror when you wake up to it staring at you in the morning,” snarks Kaiser, disregarding everything you brought up.

“Ugh, whatever.” You pluck Michael Kaiser the Stuffed… — animal? Human? No, stuffed human sounds unsettling. You need more rest. — back into your hold and roll over, pulling the blanket over yourself. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t interrupt me with any more of your bullshit.”

Taking satisfaction in making you unhappy, Kaiser snickers at your grumbling. You hear some rustling as he presumably changes, then he turns the light off and pads out of the room to wash his face and brush his teeth. You pray you’ll be able to doze off again.

Another weight joins you and the mattress dips under it while it moves behind you in an ominous manner. Kaiser settles down behind you and pulls you closer. You try to hold off, but end up giving in and turning around to reciprocate his embrace while he tucks you into his chest, Michael Kaiser the Stuffed Animal going forgotten and abandoned once you turn your back on him.

Normally, you would’ve ignored Kaiser and favored the plushie he detests so much over him just to spite him for his stunt, but you’re tired and his body is warm and inviting (not his personality though).

Kaiser moves his arm to reach behind you while you drift in and out of consciousness. There is some movement and then you hear a soft thump as if he smacked something off the bed and it landed on the floor after.

Once the enemy has been pushed out of the premises, Kaiser’s fingers find their way back to you.

___

Who up watching dandruff videos

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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tags. @choccorin @mininji