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DON’T BE SOBER — i . sae : he only loves when he’s drunk .
being with sae isn’t loud, it isn’t obvious. there’s no soft glances across rooms, no accidental but casual touches. if anything, it’s quiet to the point of doubt. he doesn’t say much. not about you, not about this. he says i love you but only during arguments, he mentions you in camera but never gives out details, he lays in the same bed as you but he never holds you. it wasn’t that he needed this to stay private, his love was more than private, enough to make you question why you were with him in the first place.
you sit beside him, walk beside him, exist next to him—and it’s real, you know it is. but it never feels like something he shows. not in the way you thought it would be. no random affection, no easy “i love you,” no reaching for your hand just because he can. sometimes, you catch yourself wondering if you made it all up.
but then there are the small things. he always notices when you’re tired, even when you try to hide it. his hand lingers for a second when he passes you something, like he almost forgets to let go. he listens—really listens. even if he doesn’t respond the way you want.
but it’s not enough. because love like this feels fake.
“do you even love me?” you asked in a joking manner, but the way you fiddled with your fingers showed fear and seriousness.
but he only looked at you like the question didn’t make sense, “i’m with you, aren’t i?” and that was that. no elaboration, no reassurance, but a fact stated simply, like it should answer everything.
you learn to live in the in-between of everything in your relationships, the uncertainty of it all while hoping for the best every night.
but doubt disappears when there’s nights like this.
sae doesn’t even drink much. it’s never enough to excuse anything, never enough to blame it on being completely out of it, but it’s just enough to loosen him. just enough to make him different.
you notice it in the way he looks at you first, it’s subtle, but it hits you immediately. his gaze lingers like he’s actually letting himself see you without pulling back.
“what?” you ask, a little guarded.
he steps closer, throwing you off. sae doesn’t close distance like this. not without reason, not without purpose. he’s always been careful with space, with boundaries, but now, he’s right there.
“you’re here,” he says quietly, like it’s something he just realized
you blink at him. “yeah…?”
his hand finds yours before you can react. not brushing, not accidental—he holds it.
your breath catches “sae,” you start, “what are you—”
“mh. shut up.. come closer,” he interrupts. it’s not a command but a request.
he pulls you a little closer, his grip not harsh but insistent. his other hand comes up to your sleeve, fingers curling into the fabric like he doesn’t trust himself not to lose you.
this isn’t him, or maybe it is. it’s just not the version of him you’re used to
“you’re always leaving,” he murmurs
you frown. “i’m not—”
“you probably want to though.” you still at his words.
he’s looking at you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. open, unguarded, like every wall he keeps up is just gone.
“..don’t leave me..” he adds, quieter this time.
you don’t know what to say to that. he leans in, resting his forehead against yours like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. like this is normal for him. like loving you is something he knows how to do.
his fingers tighten slightly around yours “so.. stay.” he repeats, softer,
and you stay, because this is everything you’ve been waiting for without realizing it.
he’s close the entire time after that. he doesn’t let go of you, doesn’t move away. if anything, he gets closer, like he’s trying to make up for every inch of distance he’s ever kept. he talks more, not a lot, but enough. small things, quiet things, things he’d never usually say. and every single one of them feels like proof that this is real. that somewhere beneath all that restraint, he feels just as much as you do.
it’s overwhelming in the best way, and you let yourself have it. you let yourself lean into him, let yourself believe that this is who he really is, that this is what loving him is supposed to feel like.
you let yourself forget what comes after, because morning always comes. and when it does, he’s gone again.
his hand isn’t in yours anymore. there’s space between you again, careful and deliberate like it always is. when you look at him, he doesn’t hold your gaze for long like last night never happened, like that version of him never existed. you stare at him for a second too long.
“what?” he asks
just one word, neutral, unreadable, yet it hurts more than it should. “…nothing,” you say.
he just nods, accepting it easily. and just like that, you’re back where you started, standing beside your boyfriend and feeling like you’re the only one in love.
it was probably bad to wish that your boyfriend would no longer stay sober, but you catch hoping that he’d call you, asking you to pick him up cause he’s drunk. because sae can love you, he just doesn’t know how.
The apartment was quiet, the soft glow of the single lamp warming the living room. It had started as nothing more than two teammates decompressing after a brutal evening practice at Bastard München.
You and Alexis Ness first met during the early days of the Neo Egoist League selection. Both of you were midfielders brought into the squad.
You focused on steady, reliable play that kept the team balanced, while Ness moved with almost eerie precision, those long legs of his delivering perfect passes that seemed to bend to his will. Kaiser dominated the spotlight, but Ness always lingered in the background with a polite smile, supporting his emperor without complaint. After one particularly sharp drill, you had complimented one of his through-balls.
He turned to you with a soft, slightly surprised smile and simply said, “Thank you. You positioned yourself well to receive it.” That was the beginning of your quiet rapport.
Over the following weeks you talked more during water breaks and recovery sessions. Ness was always calm and polite, though you could sense the intense loyalty burning underneath whenever Kaiser was mentioned. He never complained, but you noticed how his shoulders would tense slightly when things did not go perfectly for his partner.
Tonight’s practice had been especially rough. Kaiser was in a foul mood and his criticism cut deep. As the team headed out, Ness lingered near the lockers looking a little more worn than usual. You offered casually, “My apartment is close by. I can heat up some leftovers — nothing fancy, just rice and chicken. We can eat and talk about today’s drills if you want. No pressure.”
Ness studied you for a moment with those violet eyes, then gave his usual gentle smile and a small nod. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”
The walk back was easy. You chatted about small adjustments in positioning and how the midfield link-up could improve. Inside your apartment, you kept the lights low and comfortable. While you warmed up the simple dinner, Ness helped set the small table without being asked. The two of you sat across from each other with plates of warm food, the conversation flowing naturally.
“You always seem to know exactly where everyone is on the pitch,” you said between bites. “It’s impressive. Your vision is on another level.”
Ness smiled softly, though his eyes held that familiar intense spark. “It is nothing special. I simply watch carefully. Kaiser’s movements are the most important, of course… but you read the game well too. You are steady. That is rare on this team.”
You laughed lightly. “Steady is a polite way of saying I’m not as flashy as the rest of you.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “No. Steady is valuable. Many players chase glory. You simply do what the team needs.”
The meal continued with comfortable silence mixed with more light talk about training, upcoming matches, and small things like favorite recovery foods. After you both finished eating and cleared the plates, you moved to the living room and ended up standing near each other.
Curious, you held out your hand with a grin. “Hey, quick comparison. I’ve always wondered about this.”
Ness raised an eyebrow but placed his palm flat against yours without hesitation. The difference was striking. His hand was noticeably bigger — broader palm, long slender fingers that extended well past your fingertips.
“Damn, Ness,” you said with a quiet laugh. “Your fingers are really long. And your hands are big. No wonder you can make those delicate handling of things look so easy. Mine look small next to yours.”
He stared at the contrast for a few seconds, a faint, almost obsessive smile tugging at his lips. He adjusted his hand slightly, letting the full size difference sink in. “They have always been like this,” he murmured, voice calm but carrying that signature intensity. “Good for control and precision on the field. I guess they are useful.”
You both stood up fully to grab drinks from the kitchen counter. The height difference became obvious too. Ness had a couple of inches on you, enough that he naturally looked down at you when facing you directly. His lean, athletic build moved with quiet efficiency.
“You’ve also got a bit of height on me,” you noted with an easy smile. “Makes sense why you always seem to see the whole pitch so clearly.”
Ness’s smile deepened just a fraction. His violet eyes lingered on you with new, quiet focus. The casual comparisons and the relaxed dinner had shifted the air between you, leaving a subtle tension hanging in the quiet apartment as he stood close, still thinking about the difference in your hands.
For the first time in a while, Kaiser did not seem to be the only thing occupying Alexis Ness’s mind.
The quiet in your apartment felt thicker now. The remnants of dinner had been cleared away and the two of you stood close in the living room after the hand comparison. Ness had not stepped back. His violet eyes stayed on you with that faint polite smile still resting on his lips but something behind it had shifted. A quiet intensity that was not there during dinner.
You could feel the warmth of his taller frame. The subtle tension had been building slowly all evening. From the walk home through dinner and now to this moment. You took a small step closer and leaned in just enough that the space between you felt intimate. Ness did not pull away. His eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief second before returning to yours.
You swallowed then asked quietly “Have you ever hooked up with someone just to forget about Kaiser for one night?”
The question hung in the air. Ness’s polite smile softened for a moment. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. He tilted his head slightly considering your words with that same calm intensity he showed on the pitch.
“No” he answered honestly his voice low and even. “Never. Kaiser has always been the center of everything for me. My loyalty my dreams they belong to him. I have never looked for anyone else to take his place even for one night.”
He paused his violet eyes searching yours. The manic spark you sometimes caught during matches began to glow faintly behind his polite expression. “But you are different from the rest of the team. You are my teammate. Steady. You do not desperately chase after him like the others do. You simply exist beside me.”
Ness took a small breath his taller frame leaning just a fraction closer. “If I were to try forgetting him even for one night I think I would want it to be with you.”
The air felt electric now. You met his gaze and asked softly “Would you like to? Forget him with me tonight?”
For a few heartbeats Ness simply looked at you. Then that familiar obsessive smile slowly spread across his lips. Polite on the surface but with a clear manic edge underneath. His long fingers gently brushed against your hand again almost testing.
“Yes” he whispered his voice calm yet filled with growing fixation. “I would like that very much.”
He leaned in first this time capturing your lips in a slow careful kiss. It started tentative almost polite but quickly deepened as weeks of quiet tension between two teammates finally gave way. His bigger hand came up to rest lightly against the back of your neck holding you close while the kiss grew hungrier.
The kiss deepened quickly. Ness’s bigger hand stayed at the back of your neck as he guided you toward the bedroom without breaking contact. Clothes were shed slowly between more kisses until you reached the bed. He laid you down with careful hands and placed a pillow under your hips. The single lamp from the living room cast a soft warm light across the room.
Ness hovered over you. His violet eyes were dark with growing fixation while that polite smile still lingered on his lips. He warmed the lube between his palms then settled between your legs. One hand rested gently on your thigh.
The first finger pressed in slowly. The cool slick tip circled your entrance before sliding all the way inside in one smooth continuous glide. The impressive length reached incredibly deep right away. Your hand fisted the bedsheet tight as a hot flush spread across your face and chest.
Ness’s eyes sparkled with delight. That familiar slightly unhinged smile spread across his face as he watched you. “Just one finger” he murmured softly his voice polite yet filled with quiet reverence. “And you are already gripping the sheets so tightly. Your face looks so flushed and lovely for me.”
He leaned down and kissed you slow and deep while he began thrusting the long finger with precise controlled movements. The wet slick sounds of lube echoed softly in the quiet room with every stroke. He curled it upward dragging firmly along your inner walls until he found your prostate. Once he located it he focused there completely rubbing slow firm circles and pressing with steady deliberate pressure. Warm electric pleasure radiated through your body with every stroke. He kept kissing you swallowing every gasp and moan his free hand gently stroking your thigh.
He took his time. Long minutes passed with only that single finger moving deep and relentless inside you. Each curl was perfectly aimed. Your breathing grew ragged and your hips twitched.
Then he slowly added a second finger sliding it in alongside the first. The added stretch burned sweetly making you feel fuller. Ness kissed you through it murmuring soft praises against your lips while he scissored gently and curled both fingers to stroke your prostate with devastating accuracy.
The third finger came after you were panting and pushing back against his hand. It pressed in with steady pressure stretching you wider. You jolted hard at the increased fullness a sharp gasp escaping as the burn mixed with intense pleasure.
Ness’s smile sharpened. His eyes burned with obsessive fascination. “You can take them” he whispered calmly between kisses. “Look at you. So flushed and perfect because of my fingers. It feels good does it not?”
He worked all three long fingers in and out with patient precision. The obscene wet squelching sounds grew louder. Each deep thrust rubbed firmly against your prostate sending jolts of overwhelming sensation through you.
Then he added a fourth finger.
The stretch was intense. Your body trembled violently as four long slender fingers pushed deeper stretching you to your limit. You reached down instinctively trying to grab his wrist to pull them out overwhelmed by the burning fullness.
“N-Ness… too much” you gasped voice shaky.
His smile turned wild and manic yet his voice remained soft and polite. “Shh. You can take them” he cooed gently. He leaned down to kiss you deeply as he shoved all four fingers even deeper with a firm controlled thrust. The sudden deeper penetration made you cry out into his mouth.
The overwhelming stretch and constant firm rubbing against your prostate pushed you over the edge. You came hard against his abdomen, your hole clenching and pulsing violently around his fingers as pleasure crashed through you in powerful waves. Your body shook uncontrollably spilling messily between you while Ness kept his fingers buried deep curling them to prolong every spasm. He kissed you through the entire orgasm drinking in your broken moans with calm obsessive hunger.
Even as you trembled from the intense overstimulation his smile never faded. He stayed buried inside you for a long moment savoring every twitch and flutter around his fingers.
“That felt nice” he whispered against your lips his violet eyes dark with fresh obsession. “Shall we rest?”
You nod as Ness pulls you closer and lays his head against your chest, using you as a heater.
…come on now. but in all seriousness, here’s a reminder to you that karasu still remembers his first love from 8 years old (he is currently 18). he is deeply insecure, and when he falls in love and finds someone special, he will never forget them, nor will he ever move on. when he loves you, he knows you, inside and out. and that makes him all the more lovesick because he knows you so well.
2. mikage reo
just look at him with nagi. reo yearns for something he can’t have—when he finds someone unreachable or something that cannot be purchased though money, such as love, he wants it. he craves it so bad that it consumes reo, and he’ll do anything in order to impress you, or get you to love him back. reo would be willing to swim through oceans and climb mountains for you.
3. itoshi rin
oh boy. rin doesn’t actually realize he’s yearning until someone verbalizes it. he thinks it’s just normal, basic acts of service or thoughts about you until someone points out that it’s not normal for another person to be on your mind 24/7. he gets pretty insecure about this stuff, but trust assured that when you mention liking a drink just briefly, you’ll find it on your desk in just 5 minutes.
4. vivien hugo
when hugo thinks someone is his soulmate, it’s game over. he’s already won. because even if you don’t think he’s your soulmate or you don’t like him back, hugo will earn your love one way or another, through whatever method necessary—embarrassing or not. even if it means leaping through canyons or jumping on alligators, hugo makes sure that you’ll fall for him somehow.
5. michael kaiser
he’s in total denial. kaiser doesn’t like the thought that he could be so pathetic and down bad for anyone, so he’s mostly just acting as if he isn’t totally in love while internally knowing that he’s totally hopeless. but being so romantic makes him feel weak, so he’d avoid them at all costs. but to no avail, of course, as he only thinks about you and misses you more. you might get random gifts or checks.
6. nagi seishiro
another soldier who doesn’t even realize he’s yearning until someone (reo) points it out. whenever there’s a video game character that looks remotely like you, nagi uses that character in the game. whenever a character in an anime or a manga looks or acts slightly similar to you, nagi finds them ending up as his favorite character. he buys you gachas and expensive games and consoles all the time.
7. barou shouei
he knows he’s yearning; barou doesn’t deny it, but boy does he hate it. he hates how every time he cooks a meal, he always accidentally makes an extra portion for you. he hates how every time he’s at the grocery store, he somehow ends up with a cart full of your favorite things. he hates how he almost reflexively offers to clean your space if you had even the slightest complain about dust.
8. yukimiya kenyu
holy shit. yukimiya is just the classic gentleman: kind, patient, and most of all, a yearner. probably not karasu or reo levels of yearning, but enough to make your stomach do backflips and your heart to die. even when you aren’t dating, if he even thinks your smile is a little bit off that day, you find him on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers because you had a bad day. please marry him.
9. rensuke kunigami
ring the alarms, because we have yet another dense idiot who doesn’t even realize he’s yearning. it can’t seem to get through kunigami’s thick skull that being willing to do anything for someone is not friendship. that constantly having dreams about living with that person, you, is not friendship. that bridal carrying you with even the smallest complaint that you’re tired isn’t friendship.
10. sendou shuto
hear me out: sendou may seem like a total womanizer, but in reality, he has no game and is actually a total loser around women. so when he’s in love and yearning, he’s got no experience, no knowledge, and no chance. all he’s got is love and passion…and also athletic ability and lots of money he’s got nothing better to do with. his attempts at flirting may seem material or physical, but it’s just that he’s clueless.
hm. isagi yoichi
okay, listen. aside from the whole midfielder vs striker thing, isagi is really not that insecure. in fact, i’d go as far as to say that he’s a pretty confident and stable person. sure, he’s canonically quiet around his classmates, but quiet ≠ unconfident. unlike the other people on this list, i don’t think isagi would find you “unattainable” or something he doesn’t deserve. sure, he’ll love you a lot, but not yearning.
hm 2. itoshi sae
sae makes me sigh (haha get it). because he’s kind of like hugo but add a little more nonchalance and cockiness. both know that they’ll get you in the end, but unlike hugo, sae is totally competitive about it. sae treats his flirting and affection less as an emotional exchange and more as a challenge; no matter how much you try to deflect his love or deny his feelings, he’ll win in the end. he’s a smug bastard.
hm 3. bunny iglesias
pretty similar to sae…bunny also treats his affection as a challenge of sorts. he likes you a lot for sure, but he’s definitely less weepy or “ohhhh i’ll never get them but i still love themmm” and more “haha 67 i WILL rizz you up trust”. he’s pretty confident about his victory in securing you, so he likes to ragebait you sometimes just to make this more challenging for him. he’s masochistic and weird like that. you hate him but he keeps coming back anyway. annoying hoe.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Hello! Can u do male reader being the older brother of iSAGI? But like a Rin and Sae relationship since they were little, I mean the good relationship! 🤣
I also want reader to comfort Isagi more because of his sensitive feelings since canonly he suffered bullying and doesn't have much friends, in Wich makes him sad
"We love each other I swear"
A collection of text threads between you and your little brother, Yoichi.
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♡➶˙ | featuring: Isagi Yoichi! Aryu Jyubei! Bachira Meguru! And Michael Kaiser!
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♡➶˙| cw: fluff/crack. Male!reader. Reader x Aryu mentioned. Isagi x Bachira mentioned.
synopsis: you wake up one day to find that your pet bunny has turned into a human being. the worst part? he still thinks he's the cute furball he once was and demands to be treated as such.
contents and warnings: very suggestive, bunny is spoiled rotten, animal shifter bunny, animalistic bunny, cute, fluff and comedy, ts gotta be some furry bs, jealous bunny, possessive bunny, freaky bunny... mentions of dick and hard ons, lots of kissing and bunny is just so fucking weird in this... ew i was literally gagging half of the time, also reader has an ex, elusions to sex, i say maybe 17+? Idek man.
wc: 4.4k
a/n: lowkirkueinely might be the weirdest shit ive ever written, but also the freakiesr? idk the hugo hawk tuah is high up there, UGHH I WAS CONSIDERING WRITING SMUT FOR THIS BUT I GOT SO EMBARRASED AND I LWK HAD ENOUGH OF WRITING FOR IT, so maybe if i grow some balls i'll do a part two... happy reading.... ALSO NOT PROOF READ SO IM SORRY
main! masterlist
bllk! masterlist
You're not exactly sure what's going on, whether you're in some kind of simulation or if this is genuinely your reality— but one thing's for certain, something isn't quite right.
Well, it's a little more that just something, though you don't dwell on the details for long.
Not when there's a huge man — body thick with muscles and adorned with scars — sprawled all over you.
He's naked, you note with wide and unblinking eyes.
It's painfully hard not to notice that fact.
No clothes, no underwear— no nothing, just straight butt-fucking-naked, in his birthday suit if you will. Looking awfully comfortable on top of you, with his large arms wrapped tight around your waist, legs tangled around yours, and face nuzzled shamelessly in your chest.
The realisation has your body still.
Your limbs growing taut as you finally grasped a hold of the horrifying situation.
There's— There's a strange man…!
And he's naked, sleeping in your house, on your bed, in the place of your cute pet bunny like this is completely fine, like this is common occurrence, like everything is normal— when it clearly fucking wasn't!
The only appropriate response is to scream— and you do just that.
The noise of your terror is shrill.
Piercing.
Ear-splitting— straight out of an r-rated horror film.
You kick and thrash and flail all at once, sight growing blurry with adrenaline as your fear quickly became your strength. And whilst you're under the pitiful conception that your efforts have an effect, to the unknown man, your abrupt movements are nothing more than an inconvenience.
You're squirming comes to a short pause when he, the strange man with pale hair — a shade that bares an awful resemblance to your pet's fur — makes a noise of disapproval.
It's a deep rumble, travelling through your chest and down your spine. A warning sign that you do not heed to, something you quickly come to regret when your actions pull an averse reaction out of him. His grip around your waist tightened instantly, the act immobilising your writhing figure which then urged him to snuggle closer into your neck.
He does it so effortlessly, so readily, as if it were no more than common practice, a behaviour that was so frighteningly familiar, it has your heart sink with disbelief.
Just who the hell was he, acting like this was nothing out of ordinary?
"G-Get, get off of me!"
The man let out another low grunt when you tried to pull away from him again, his annoyance accompanied with a short huff, one that sent a bout of unease to your stomach.
It was like playing a one-sided game of tug of war, you trying to escape his vice-like clutch whilst he merely groaned with displeasure and squeezed you near half to death.
Fuck, if the weight of him on top of you was this suffocating, you didn't even wanna imagine what kind of state your pet bunny would've been in considering he'd been peacefully sleeping on top of you.
Most likely bull-dozed under this hunk of a man.
"Ugh— you're crushing- my bunny—!"
You managed to get out with a heavy wheeze, still trying to put some much needed distance between the two of you. Your endeavours, for the very first time this morning, finally have some kind of effect on him. Albeit a very small one.
He perks up at your words, his earlier fatigue now nowhere to be found as he peered down at your twisting features through heavy-lidded eyes. A quaint shade of crimson, resembling rubies with their dull glimmer, greeted you in their full glory.
You gasped, mouth gaping as their familiarity dawned upon you.
There's no way—!
Just because he has hair and eyes that were terribly similar to your pet bunny, and a unique mannerism that you could recognise anywhere, just because of that— there's just no way… right?
You were very clearly jumping to conclusions!
"Bunny…?" Your voice trembled against yourself, lips wobbling as tears gathered in your lash line against your will. "My… my cute Bun-Bun..?"
It was almost comical how his nose twitched at the endearment, you could practically see flowers blooming around him as he flopped his head back down onto you, his temple pressing close to your lips as if waiting for something— something you only ever did with your furball…
He wanted you to coddle him with morning kisses and head scratches…!
But you couldn't do that— there was absolutely no way you could do that! This was a man!
Well, a hot man, but a man nonetheless!
Not your cute bunny!
There was a big difference between kissing your pet as opposed to kissing a whole ass man! You weren't exactly ready to cross that line yet!
And the longer you spent contemplating all this, the larger the risk of angering your spoiled bunny grew. And an angered bunny was not what you needed right now, not when you had only just replaced your previously chewed charger.
You needed to make a decision, and you needed to make it quick.
Ugh!
Eyes scrunching shut with fluster, you gathered your courage, lips puckering up as they readied themselves to plant a short but sweet peck on his pale hair. What you didn't account for, however, was how short his fuse actually was.
So imagine your surprise, when your lips didn't meet the soft tress of hair like you'd mentally prepared for, but instead, they were greeted with another pair of soft lips.
To your bunny's standard, you had taken far too long to shower him in your morning affections. And as a result, his frustrations grew, which had led him to face you with arguably the cutest expression of fury.
And, well, it didn't take a full blown genius to put two and two together— you'd crashed straight into his lips!
"Mmph—!"
Your heart nearly clawed its way out of your throat when you felt his tongue push past your lips. This, was not something you ever did with your bunny!
His head tilted to the side, teeth clashing and nose pressing against yours as he reached deeper into your wet cavern, chasing after something you couldn't quite put a name to.
A soft mewl left you in tandem, the noise of your pleasure swallowed by the greedy man on top of you. You nearly let yourself fall victim to your desires, those of which have been fuelling with frustration after your recent break up, only to snap out of it when you felt something hard press against your inner thighs.
He— he's hard!
Your ears flushed with embarrassment at the implication of his little — or big — situation, the realisation that he was still very naked striking you once more. And haunted with what you'd just done, your vigour grew. Your hands freed themselves from his now loosened confines, before they reached over to his broad shoulders and pushed.
"Ngh-!"
Your lips parted with effort, the only evidence of your indulgence visible in the thin strand of saliva that lewdly connected the two of you together.
"Put some…" You heaved, cheeks flushing as you tried to collect your breath that was cruelly stolen from you by the now hovering and guilty man. Your gaze wandered despite yourself, taking in his sculpted muscles that were littered with familiar scars identical to the ones your bunny had.
He really is.. him.
Your scrutiny was cut short when he tried to reach back down to you, his erection becoming very visible under your curious stare.
"Kyaa! Put some clothes on!"
There was no way this hot man was your pet bunny!
You couldn't be more wrong.
This man, six feet and three inches of pure muscle, was definitely your pet bunny.
There was no mistaking it.
Just because he now towered over you with his ridiculously attractive form, it didn't change that fact.
And if you refused to acknowledge it, then you were simply in denial.
Because there was nothing quite as spoiled as your pet bunny. You knew that, your friends knew that, God— even your fucking mailman knew that. But this man, Bunny — as you've resolved to call him considering it was the only thing that seemed to catch his attention — came very close. In fact, it wouldn't be a stretch to say he was more spoiled than your little fur-ball.
For one, you tried to put his very naked self into some clothes, namely your ex's clothing given that they were the closest thing to fitting him. But Bunny took one small, barely conspicuous sniff at the garments, and his face grew contorted with displeasure. He then turned away from you, stomped his feet like a child throwing a hissy fit, and refused to put them on.
You damn near lost your mind, did that mean you had to sacrifice your clothes in the name of shame and modesty?
It did.
Since he harshly rejected your ex's clothes, you had no choice but to resort to yours. And it would've been easy to just deal with loose or teared clothes, but Bunny still hadn't forgiven you for having the nerve to offer him that other man's clothes.
You had to coddle him, run your hands through his hair and across his back with ardent affections, cup his puffed out cheeks and shower him with countless wet kisses whilst calling him all sorts of sweet but stupid endearments just to get him to look at you!
You've never regretted spoiling your Bunny more than now, because now it meant he had standards reaching the skies.
Maybe you should've heeded to you ex's words, he had always mentioned how you were spoiling the animal too much. At that time, you thought he'd been jealous of the furball receiving your love, but maybe, he was looking out for me..?
No, that would just be ridiculous.
Though, that ridiculous thought didn't seem so ridiculous now, did it?
And so, the only possible solution you could come up with to deal with his spoiled nature was to… wean him off of your affections…
Oh, it was so stupid. But you were truly under the impression that it would work. You really were.
Imagine your surprise, or lack thereof, when that went terribly wrong.
Bunny was absolutely furious to receive your silence. No longer having you in the palm of his hand to snuggle into as he leeched onto your warmth was hell.
So he did what he always did, throw a temper tantrum to have you pamper him once more. If you wanted to suddenly start ignoring him, then he would make it so that you couldn't.
Yeah, sure, you payed no mind to chewed cables and torn furniture, but what if he walked around you naked?
You couldn't possibly ignore that, could you?
And thus, Bunny refused to wear any clothes around you, even if they were yours. Choosing to roam around your home in absolutely nothing, something you could not turn a blind eye to.
His plan worked, like always.
Left with no choice, you were reduced to a pathetic, bumbling mess.
Heeding to every one of his wishes, as outrageous as each may be, became your national sport. And Bunny, realising the lengths of his special privileges, took it up a notch.
Whenever you locked yourself in the bathroom for some much needed privacy, he was hot on your tail. Knocking, scratching and thumping on the door for entry — the threat of his destruction loomed, and weak to your will, you had no choice but to let him in.
You couldn't shower in peace, no, you couldn't even shower at all!
How the hell were you supposed to? When he just stood there, watching you with dull and hazy eyes, his gaze tracking every one of your movements with rapt intrigue.
It was impossible!
So you just awkwardly stood there too, under the shower head, tap running, and still in your clothes — because what did it matter if you were still dressed when he did the undressing for you with his bedroom eyes?
No seriously, what else were you supposed to fucking do?
Strip in front of the insanely attractive man and just shower as if he wasn't quite literally sporting a fucking hard-on?!
Maybe if he was still your pet bunny you would've payed it no mind — partly because you'd already done that before — but you couldn't now!
And your sudden aversion made no sense to him.
Because Bunny had already seen you naked before, he'd seen it all. When he was still a fur ball with a pass to roam freely wherever he wished. It was not out of ordinary for him to just watch you bathe yourself, you'd let him do it plenty of times.
Hell, you'd even encouraged it!
Going as far bringing him a chair where he could comfortably lay on so the both of you could spend 'quality time' together.
So what the hell was with your reluctance now?
He just couldn't bring himself to understand, and worst of all, he couldn't fucking tolerate it.
And so, like he did to anything that displeased him, Bunny decided to tackle the root of the problem.
He'd join you, or rather, he'd corner you in the shower or tower over you in the tub, whichever you decided to choose, body flush against yours and face nuzzled into your proximity as he then urged you to groom him clean — a trait you later found bunnies did to assert their dominance.
Though ignorant to that fact beforehand, you didn't think much of it and cleaned him thoroughly. Fingers lost in the tress of his pale hair, you'd begin by massaging his roots with intense focus, before letting them slip low and wander about with a curious mind of their own. You'd mindlessly trace his deep scars, the ones all over him, on his arms, his chest and his face with the ghost of a feather.
Bunny's expression was always fixed into one of pure bliss when under your hands' ministrations, and the sight pulled on your heartstrings more than you liked to admit. Even though he was now a man, he still behaved much like he did when he was your pet.
It was so cute, until he then tugged at your clothes like it was now your turn. You'd fought back, obviously, gallant and valiant as you tried desperately to keep them on, but your endeavours were for nought, your efforts in vain. For the man, using either his teeth or monstrous strength, teared them off of you with unbecoming ease.
You'd learnt pretty quickly from then on that there was no use in fighting him, it was just easier to let him get his way — your growing pile of destroyed belongings a rather telling tale.
And much to your chagrin or relief, you weren't sure which of the two, he didn't help wash you up at all — that would be a humiliating sign of his submission towards you — rather, he settled into your warmth. Choosing to tuck his nose snug into your jugular and inhale the scent of you, something he couldn't get quite enough of.
With his weight toppled over you, no signs of him leaving discernible, you were left with no choice but to indulge in his wishes. Either running your fingers through his hair like before or over the ridges of his thick muscles as he hummed with delight.
The shared moment was strangely peaceful, but the instant you slowed down or showed any signs of stopping, he'd whine and huff and bite at your skin, refusing to latch off until you resumed your affections or placated him with endless kisses. Left with no choice but to comply, you heeded to every one of his demands as audacious as they may be.
And when he finally did unlatch from you, reluctantly at that, you were left to suffer with the bruises of his possession. Visible markings would mar the surface of your flesh, the kind that bloomed into shades of purple and were later very curiously questioned on by others.
Bunny wasn't just a headache because he caused you emotional stress and reputational damage, he was an even bigger pain the ass because he was running you into credit card debt.
If as a furball he was eating enough to feed a football team, then his appetite as a human was probably the leading cause of world hunger.
"Say aah—!" You drawled out sweetly, a carrot in your hand as you gently urged him to open his mouth.
That's right, as if his bottomless pit of a stomach wasn't enough, Bunny refused to eat if you didn't feed it to him directly.
Crunch.
His head barely lifted from your shoulder as he took a bite of the root vegetable, whining softly when you took a moment too long to continue scratching the nape of his neck.
"That was a big bite!" You cooed, planting a wet kiss on his rounded cheek as he chewed. "My Bun-Bun is such a good boy!"
You had to compliment him after each bite too, reward him with a smooch for being 'such a good Bunny' and touch him in some kind of way— because the one time you didn't do that, he ended up chewing through your lacy panties that you didn't even know you still had!
They were at the bottom of your hamper, so you'd half forgotten they existed, but still! What man digs through a pile of dirty laundry and destroys panties of all things just to express his irritation?
Only Bunny would, and considering how he was technically a rabbit who liked digging, it wasn't that surprising he still had some of his animal instincts left over. So you being you, just chalked it up to Bunny being, well, your pet bunny.
You were about to feed him another bite, only to blink with stupor when you heard the bell of your apartment ring. Carrot hovering near his wide and awaiting mouth, you racked your brain for who could possibly be visiting you at this late hour.
Bunny let out a low growl from where he was sitting on your lap, his legs immediately tightening around your waist with quiet warning as his eyes narrowed with obvious displeasure. One look at his furrowed expression and you could practically see the new pyjama set you bought ripped into tatters.
"Bunny, I'm sorry— but um… would you please get off me for one moment..?"
He didn't move from his very comfortable spot on you, choosing to ignore you and huff with disapproval into your collarbone instead.
"Please?" You begged, kissing the corners of his mouth with wide and pleading eyes as your thumb rubbed across the swell of his cheeks.
Bunny watched you from the corner of his eyes, the glint of a small thought forming in them as he took in your desperation. Whilst he was a spoiled little brat who enjoyed terrorising you any chance he got, you were still his favourite human.
You may not have realised this while having to deal with his bullshit, but Bunny was weak to you just as much as you were to him.
In one swift moment, he flopped off of you and landed beside you on the couch with a thump. His silent approval, rare and genuine, warmed your heart, pulling a soft smile out of you. One Bunny quickly turned to avoid with a low grunt— the kind that urged you to hurry whilst he was still patient.
"Thank you, Bunny!" You cheered, standing to your feet, though not before giving his head a little pat. "I'll be back soon."
That's what you promised, but one look at your uninvited visitor and that may as well just have been lip service.
"What are you doing here?" You spat, arms crossing defensively as you took in the rather distasteful sight of your ex.
Just what the hell was he doing here?
"Babe—"
"Don't call me that!" You snapped, one hand flying to grab the edge of your door as the other shook by your side. "We… broke up, so please just—."
However, the man before you was quick to notice your intentions. And before you could shut the door in his face, he grabbed a hold of your arm and pulled, knocking you off of your balance.
"Stop being so stubborn!" He grunted with effort, clearly caught off guard with your unusual boost of energy.
You've never been like this before, since when did you learn to fight back?
"Let go—!" Panic shot up your throat as his grip on your arm tightened. The heat of his grimy touch searing your flesh, a feeling you hadn't felt since dating him. "Please—"
And as if hearing your desperation from afar, an arm you've lately become familiar with snaked itself around your waist.
Unlike your ex's, his touch brought you comfort, a mellow warmth you couldn't replicate with just anything.
"Bunny…!" You sniffed, immediate relief flooding you as he pulled you flush against him, your back slotting in his chest with ease.
Bunny didn't reply back to you, instead, he tucked your head beneath his chin in quiet acknowledgement and held you close like he always did. Gaze fixed forward, he stood to his full height and sized down the man intruding on his territory.
Your ex quickly grew alarmed under Bunny's scrutiny, though he tried, and pathetically so, to appear as if the six feet and three inches of pure muscle didn't frighten him.
"Who—Who, who the hell are you?!"
And again, Bunny didn't respond to your ex, though his displeased expression spoke in its stead. His narrowed eyes lingered on the man's hand, namely the way it had still yet to detach from your arm.
Bunny's arm around your waist wandered, trailing low around your hips and pushing you further into his proximity while the other grabbed a hold of the man's wrist.
"Argh—!"
Pain immediately painted his face in a hideous hue, a show of Bunny's unusual strength, one you've never been subjected to despite however many times you've ' irritated' Bunny.
"I—I'll leave! I'll go- damn it!"
Your ex's grip on your arm loosened on instinct, and Bunny was quick to take advantage of the fact. He let go of the man's wrist, quickly replacing it with your now freed arm and pulling you out of the door-frame's way.
The door swung shut, a reverberating bang that was tensely followed with eerie silence.
"…."
You gulped, dread growing in the pit of your stomach as you tried to make sense of the situation— something you were unable to do given how you couldn't even see Bunny's expression.
His grip hasn't left your arm either, and his breathing has only gotten heavier behind you, the heat of his breath fanning your neck with the threat of something.
Bunny has always had quite the good memory, there's no way he'd forget what just happened— let alone forgive you for it. To even consider otherwise is just plain stupid, and the mere thought of receiving his silence shatters your heart.
You turn to face him before you realise, your free hand reaching to cup his face with desperation you aren't aware you're capable of, only to stop when he refuses to meet you.
"Bunny, I—"
The reaction you fear doesn't come. Not in irate huffs, or stomping feet, or crossed arms. No, nothing of the sort.
Bunny's gaze is just so sad as he stares off into the distance, his expression contorted with intense confusion, like he can't figure out something he craves so deeply to understand.
"Bunny..?" Your voice trails of unsurely, your hand hovering with just as much certainty.
He finally turns to face you, or namely your arm that he'd still yet to let go of, and what he does next— has your stomach lurch.
"B-Bunny—?!"
He's licking your arm, slobbering all over the flesh of your limb with the instinct of an animal grooming its beloved.
Your fluster goes ignored, though the spike in your pulse doesn't go unnoticed by the large man before you, his darkening eyes a telling sign of his growing desires.
Bunny stares at you, unblinking and lust-glazed as he approaches your proximity with the nature of a veteran. Swift, effortless, and readily— like he knows what he's doing. Like he's seen you do it so many times before that it has now become a part of his strange nature.
"Hah—" you let out a soft sigh, your thighs clenching against yourself, a pit of need growing in your core as he littered your exposed skin with countless opened mouth kisses— covering you in his scent.
Bruises are bound to grow with how hard he bites at the flesh, but the pain eases into pleasure as he licks at the teared skin with uncontainable reverence. His desire leaks through just as much as yours, you feel it in the way he presses against you, a short friction that only fuels your longing.
His lips wander at an agonising pace, from your ears to your neck, your neck to your collarbone— and they travel lower and lower. Bunny has reached your stomach before you know it, and he stops for a short moment, just staring at you with dilated eyes. There's intention behind them, and you can only whine with desperation as the moment of tension lengthens into eternity.
The air smells different. Sweeter.
Enticing.
Your pheromones are running haywire, Bunny notices, of course he does. The faint twitch of his nose as he picks up on the change in your scent is obvious— he can see your chest heave from anticipation and your eyes glaze with the hope of release.
It's so blatantly clear that you're aroused— and Bunny wants nothing more than to breed you full of his essence.
But he doesn't just do as he pleases this time.
This time, he waits for your words of permission with patience that is unbecoming of him.
"Bunny…"
Your voice is soft as you address him, breathy and mellifluous as they charge the air with palpable tension. Grabbing the lengths of his short hair, you pull him flush against you, pressing his face close to the heat of your need.
"Will you…" Lashes fluttering, you met his gaze head on, a small smile growing on your lips as you awaited for his reaction.
"Will you show me how bunnies show their affection?"
links =
part two with kaiser, ness, nanase, aryu, noa, ego, anri, lavinho, agi, sendou, lorenzo and loki, charles, hugo -> here
broadcasting: previously on unknown's goofy smaus -> here
bllk masterlist -> here
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summary: youre not used to the compliments he always gives, but with all honesty? you love it
character/s included: Vivien Hugo, Bunny Iglesias, Michael Kaiser, Julian Loki, Don Lorenzo, Sae Itoshi, Alexis Ness, Charles Chevalier, Rin Itoshi, Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage, Kenyu Yukimiya, Shidou Ryusei, Otoya Eita, Karasu Tabito, Barou Shoei
warnings¬es: reader doesnt know how to respond to a compliment, they lowkey obsessed with you, a bit ooc, I dont think the title fits but oh well, wholesomeness, a little bit suggestive, divider: @/uzmacchiato
notes: crack, fluff, mentions of period, fem reader, kinda suggestive, out of context texts on top, established relationship in most, engaged to noel, bsf to lovers w michael, might make a part 2 with more characters
inspo: read an smau similar to this a few years ago, cant find it now :(
𑣲║ ¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! x ¡Barista Reader!
casual & fluff
𝑀𝑒𝓃𝓊
────────────୨ৎ────────────
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who doesn't even like coffee much to begin with. As an athlete, he has plenty of nutritionist breathing down his neck about how coffee interferes with the bodies ability to absorb certain nutrients or it can heighten anxiety.
Overall, he usually chooses to ignore the beverage. Especially when considering the cups of creamer people add into it— it was far too similar to milk. However, he woke up from only sleeping two hours after he spent most of the night analyzing the other teams playing style. In simple words: he needed a 'pick me up' and the easiest thing he could get his hands on is coffee.
Though being in an unfamiliar city, he was forced to surf the internet for decent cafes until he landed on one within walking distance of the luxury hotel. Bastard München left Germany about a week ago to attend some training camp in another country; therefore, he's been quite occupied and took no time to do sight seeing.
So as he followed the instructions playing on his phone, he took in the different architecture and street life that was a sharp contrast to Germany's. When he finally arrived at his destination, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked into the small, welcoming atmosphere.
The coffee aroma was strong, obviously, but there was a hint of sweetness he could trace back to the pastries in glass casing along the front counter. His eyes just fixated on the menu hanging while trying to translate the words in his head.
Blue Lock did allow the players to utilize the translators outside of just football practices and matches, but he was trying to strengthen his language skills since he planned on being a global football player.
He just waited his turn in the long line and mentally focused on pronunciation of his order.
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who upon first seeing you was awe struck for a moment. You tilted your head up to look at him as you wore the typical customer service smile despite the way he blankly stared down at you.
"Hello! What would you like to order?" your voice rang out and echoed in his ears. His original plan and practice he committed to went flying out of his head the moment your eyes focused on him and waited for his reply.
"Ah hello," he visibly paused while he eyes flew back up to the menu over your head so he could gather some composure. Although you of course couldn't have noticed his slight panic, for his face remained vacant and portrayed no sign of shock. "I would like the black coffee," he replied in a thick German accent as his gaze fell back onto you.
You gave a nod and tapped a few things on the screen before turning it to him so he could swipe his card. As he entered it, you were busy staring up at the rather tall man. You looked at the tattoo that crawled up his neck and disappeared beneath his casual shirt. His eyes were a magnetic blue that matched the tips of his, otherwise blonde, hair. When he tapped his pin onto the screen, you could see the subtle way his muscles tensed and ripped beneath his forearm.
"Your drink will be out quickly if you'd just like to wait by the counter," you said with that peppy voice before turning to grab a disposable cup. Your other coworker was busy preparing a latte, so you took it upon yourself to swiftly grab the plain black coffee.
The blonde and blue haired man didn't say anything besides a hum since you turned away so quickly to begin preparing his drink. Retreating to the counter he suspected you referred to, he tried getting on his phone and tapping through apps to distract himself and not look weird.
Finally, you were placing the top on the cup and turning to him.
"Here you go— have a nice day!" you politely said while he got the memo and was taking the cup out of your hand.
"You too," he also did an attempt of being polite even though his face remained deadpanned as he stared. Your eyes just lingered on him for a second; observing him and memorizing since he had that model face you only saw a few times in your life.
Snapping out of it, you gave a quick nod with a smile and turned to begin taking someone else's order as your coworker walked up to the counter and sat down another drink.
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who found himself walking the now familiar path back to the cafe you worked at.
God he was getting sick of the damn caffeine intake everyday, but at least he'd been balancing it out by ordering another dessert— his nutritionist and dietitian would not be pleased. He specifically liked the ones most people didn't bother with: bread rusk. Whenever you'd overestimate the amount of sweet bread needed for a container or needed to generally trim it down, you were left with scraps; therefore, you repurposed them.
You'd take the extra scraps and coat them in a thin layer of sweet butter before slowly baking them until they were golden and slightly crunchy. Typically, you'd sell a few and then give freebies to the last customers, but recently you'd been selling out.
The man you first 'met' early in the week— wickedly tall, thick German accent, sharp blue eyes, all the qualities stuck in your head— had been coming back every morning.
You soon began to characterize him with all the other regulars every time you greeted and asked if it'll be the same today. The exchanges were short and brisk with the farthest the two of you getting was a 'how are you today?' followed by an actual answer. Other than that, Michael hadn't had any luck striking a more interesting conversation.
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who also found himself developing a new habit of being late to morning practice. Well not 'late,' but he was arriving only 10 minutes before the practice starts in comparison to his usual 30.
Originally, no one was commenting and just assumed he might be sleeping in later for comfort. Hell, maybe his awful bed hair started to take longer to tame in the mornings. Needless to say, no one was questioning Michael. Besides, his extra beauty sleep seemed to be getting him in a much better mood than his team is used to.
Still, a particular magenta haired teammate did not appreciate the switch up. Anytime he'd think about confronting Michael, he was hit with a sudden pang of anxiety that would make him retreat.
After all, who was he to question the king? Point made.
However, after Michael did fuck up and missed the usual train because he had to wait longer in line due to Wednesday morning rush, he was late to the practice.
As he casually jogged onto the field, he just saw his teammates lined up in front of the coach. He nonchalantly slid in beside Alexis Ness, where the man already created a spot for him, and stared straight ahead to the coach.
"Michael?" he heard a softer voice call out in a whisper beside him. Though Michael's eyes stayed forward and locked on the coach explaining a certain drill. "Michael?"
The second Alexis called his name for a second time, he whipped his head to the side and stared. "What? You're being so fucking loud," he muttered: agitated.
"Oh, sorry I-.. I uh.. just was wondering if you've been.. doing extra morning training o-or something.. since you've been late," Ness mumbles.
"What? Are you my keeper now? Worry about your own damn self," he snapped back and just stared back at the coach to catch the last bit of instructions.
"Sorry."
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who is returning to the cafe yet again and is delighted to see you working. One time he walked in and you were no where to be seen, so he did get a bit more pissy the rest of the day.
As he walked in this morning and was hit by the now familiar coffee bean scent, he just saw your pretty face behind the counter. No one else was in the cafe so he must've just beat the morning rush as he walked up to the counter. Some coworker he hadn't seen before had his back turned as he swept under the booths.
Upon seeing his face, you instantly perked up and stopped scrolling on your phone; instead sliding it swiftly into the pocket of your apron. "Oh good morning! Will you like the usual?"
"Good morning. Yes," he replied in the accent you'd grown to love. Was it weird to find an accent so fascinating to listen to? You had asked a friend while telling her all about the cute man who started stopping by the cafe, and she called you an 'accentphilic—' whatever the hell that meant.
Michael on the other hand was stressing about how this was the perfect time to ask you out, or at least talk to you besides the typical customer to worker interaction. If he would've known this would be the day he talked to you, he would've worn a compression tshirt or something to show off.
"Not many people here right now," he forced himself to say whilst standing by the counter. He had been staring at you while you fished out the sugared bread rusk, but it dawned on him how weird that might look so he adverted his gaze. Now he was just staring out a window and trying to act casual.
"Usually people file in here around 7, so you barely beat the morning rush hour," you reply whilst securing the sugary pastry into the small bag so someone can walk while holding it.
"Ah, that's good," he mumbled before realizing he needed another talking point. "So do you like the coffee here?" immediately, the man wanted to slap himself and hide.
"Well I'm not too much of a coffee person, but I do enjoy the iced coffees sometimes," damn you were already grabbing the cup to put his drink in. Michael felt about as stressed as he is when the football match is in overtime, he's watching the minute count down, and he still has yet to score one point.
"I haven't tried iced coffee."
"Maybe you can get it the next time you come in? It'll be sweeter than the black coffee, but I think it's more refreshing."
"Maybe we could try it—"
Before Michael could finish trying to slowly approach the idea of asking you on a date, he heard an obnoxious voice ring out: "Hey, aren't you that football player?"
He turned and just saw where your coworker finally stopped sweeping the floors and turned his attention to the other man in the cafe. If looks could kill, your coworker would've dropped like a fly.
"Yeah you are! I'd recognize the tattoo— Michael Kaiser, right? I thought I heard something about this city hosting some typa thing for others," he obliviously continues to talk while even walking up to Michael.
On the other hand, you were quietly watching the two. It would make sense considering the handsome man you'd been crushing on clearly worked out and had an athletic build. You set his coffee down on the counter and the sound of it made him snap out of his disgusted glare.
"Thank you, have a good day," and with that Michael snatched the coffee and ignored how your coworker just stood without any response.
Michael could've literally lunged at that man for giving away who he was. Sure, some people knew him— people into football or saw a brand deal— but he's been managing to avoid them for the most part. Now, at the worst time possible, someone interrupted him just as he finally got the courage to talk to you!
Meanwhile, you stood awestruck in the cafe as you watched him dash out the door.
"That was him, right?" you hear your coworker ask while walking behind the counter and setting the broom aside.
"His name is Michael, but I don't know. I don't know all the different athletes."
"You should know him at least— he had a German accent right? Oh it's definitely him... God, I should've asked for a signature or some shit."
The next customer walked in as the bell chimed and you tried to push whatever the hell just happened out of your mind.
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who's been contemplating on even going back to the cafe. His training in this country will end within the next 2 days, so he's not even sure if it's worth potentially humiliating himself. He already ran out of the cafe the other day. Michael didn't know if it was self conceded to say this, though he didn't really care, but he noticed people would treat him differently after learning he was a paid athlete. What if you did too?
After much consideration that lasted the entire day, he finally decided he would go back to the cafe in the morning.
Walking back into the establishment felt daunting as he heard the ring of the bell and stepped inside. He ensured to go around the same time he did the previous day so hopefully there won't be any other customers— he was right.
He didn't even spot that guy, your coworker, who ruined everything last time. Though if he did, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hold back from snapping at him today.
Looking up when you heard the bell, you immediately stood straighter upon seeing the recognizable man. "Good morning! Would you like your usual?" you asked— completely casual and normal. Michael suddenly felt silly for having been so worried about coming back.
"Yes, please."
You turned and began to make his order. Like yesterday, Michael takes it upon himself to start a conversation.
"What is with the people in the streets?" he abruptly asked which made you pause and look over. You tried to consider what he meant as you shook the small plastic bag and the bread rusk fell into order.
"Do you mean the farmers market?" you suggested since you knew your city was having one— they had one every Friday. "You're talking about the people with the tables and selling things, right?"
"Yes, yes them," he confirmed as you set his bread rusk aside and began brewing the black coffee. However, instead of normal, the conversation didn't end there.
"Then yeah it's the farmers market. Have you not been to the one here before?" you questioned, but of course already knew the answer. After your coworker freaking out yesterday about meeting one of Bastard München's star players, you took it upon yourself to look the man up.
His online player stats of 186 centimeters, 19 years old, plays forward position all came up: it checked out. With knowing this you also knew his team was only in town to attend some practice camp filled with scrimmages against other teams, so he was a tourist in the area.
"No, I haven't been. Do you like shopping there?"
"I mean it's alright sometimes. They have one seller who makes pretty cool jewelry."
"Would you like to go?" he inquires in an indifferent tone, but how his attention was trained on you said he wasn't as laid back as he appeared to be. "With me, I mean," he clarifies.
"Oh um," you looked away as you placed the lid on his drink and walked over to the counter, "Yes— yes we can go to it. It's Friday through Saturday and I'm off tomorrow, so that'll be a better time for me."
Michael took his drink from your hand while he didn't look away. He did the calculations in his head, and he just had one practice match in the morning and the rest of the day free. "Saturday works for me. Can we just meet in front of here around eleven?" he suggests since it's close to the farmers market, and probably close to where you lived since you worked at the cafe.
"That works for me!"
"Great. See you soon," Michael says while walking towards the door. You had a bright smile that seemed to infect him, for his lips slowly tugged into a small grin as well.
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who was twenty minutes ahead of the set plan you two made, but you also seemed to have had the same idea as you show up early too.
The two of you strolled to the farmers market and leisurely walked about it. You went to different booths that had jewelry, clothes, and even a whole row selling treats from other countries. Whilst looking at the options, you noticed how each stand had the flag representing the specific food being sold from that country.
There was a variety of South American and European flags, but the one belonging to the stand you saw Michael lingering at was the German one.
"Are you going to get something here?" you asked, since he hadn't bought anything yet whereas you purchased a few items.
"Hm," he hummed while eyeing the selection, then gave a small nod and walked up to the booth. As he approached, an older woman working the stand stood up from her chair.
"Can I get," he began in the language he'd been speaking for the past week while staying in the unfamiliar city. Though the older woman quickly noticed his accent and spoke up.
"Sprichst du auch Deutsch?"
Instantaneously, you noticed Michael look away from the selection and instead at the older women: "Ja, das tue ich. Können wir die apfelstrudel haben?"
Although you couldn't understand a word, you noticed the woman's eyes light up as she replied to him in German and continued a short conversation. You watched the woman package an apple strudel and Michael fish out the money, but the woman quickly said something. He put some cash back while replying, then handed her the fewer bills.
After what you could only imagine was him saying goodbye, he started walking and you followed. Only then did you finally ask: "Did she mark down the price?" for you did notice he gave about half of what was listed as the price.
"Yes— we also have more so you can try some," he mentioned while walking down the busy street to the next booth for you two to look at.
¡Foreign Athlete Michael Kaiser! who, although you couldn't tell due to his straight face, thoroughly enjoyed what he'd call a 'date.'
Though he did on several occasions have to subtly steer you away from two blue headed idiots he loathed— whom are also on his team. They must've chosen to go sight seeing since tomorrow his team was to return to Germany.
After the sun already set and the two of you made it back to the front of the cafe, he politely asks: "Would you like me to walk you home?" He hoped it didn't come off as weird, but even though he didn't know what nightlife was like in the city, he figured he should still ask.
"Oh no, it's okay. I actually live right above the cafe— in the apartments," you retorted with the same smile he'd grown to crave.
He awkwardly paused and just nodded. He didn't dare suggest going back up to your apartment— he didn't want this to be that kind of date, nor did he want you to think it was.
"Ah okay."
"But I would like to exchange numbers. Kinda old fashion to keep communication to in person, or via pigeon," you joked as he looked down at you.
Although Micheal usually never smiled, much less laugh, at others attempts to joke with him: he did just give a small smile and nod.
"Okay, I like that," then the two of you were switching cells to input your number into his phone, and vice versa.
Then, he was off back to his hotel and to pack his bags for the airport tomorrow. He truly felt remorse for even asking you on the date to begin with the longer he thought about it.
Was it rude of him? He should've just asked you in the beginning of the week, when he first saw you, instead of waiting till the literal end of his trip. Guilt subtly gnawed at him when he reflects on how he never told you he wouldn't see you again.
Maybe he should text you and act like he's suddenly going back early? Then again, what about that pesky coworker of yours. The man might've known how long the training camp for the football teams lasted, so he might casually slip that it's over and Michael won't be back in the cafe.
That was an even worse circumstance.
The entire agonizing walk back to his hotel had him mulling over potential options and the downsides. Eventually he's landing on just texting you that he had a great time, but unfortunately his trip was over soon— since when the hell did Michael Kaiser put this much thought into another person?
Sure he's talked to girls before, but he's never literally been stuck pondering how to softly let them down.
Never mind that; his plan was made. As he set foot back into his personal hotel room, he's picking his phone out of his pocket as he feels it vibrate. For a moment he was horrified in thinking you've texted him first asking to schedule another date, but he pauses as he reads the message.
'The stay is being extended another several days due to Paris X Gen agreeing to a scrimmage at this location. Hotel rooms will not be switched and instead just extended. Apologies for late notice."
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A/N: not sure about this one, but i'm focusing on writing for a larger variety of characters so i have a couple of drafts. I'm specifically thinking about posting some AOT character within the next few days— of course with usual bllk & jjk in the mix
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BUNNY IGLESIAS is casually strolling in the hotel grounds, holding his phone screen with your face shining brightly, even if it was getting late, he would never miss a chance to talk with his angel.
You're saying something, another piece of gossip or drama, teasing him while wearing his jersey again. He doesn't have much to say; he just wanted to see you before you go to sleep, since he's in a different time zone, a few hours behind, due to traveling for a Champions League match.
"They were caught during lunch, in his car, eventually someone took a photo of them…” You were in the middle of telling him about the new drama from work because he's the only one you can talk to about it. Why does he have to be so far away? Not that he won't be back in two days, but that's way too long. "And then his wife came and we were all in shock because she slapped him and it echoed throughout the office—”
“BUNNY~!” The boy flinches like someone smacked him with a boiling-hot seafood paella, shells and all. You freeze on screen, knowing he was outside walking alone, but neither of you expected anyone to talk to him.
“You little gloomy loverboy, what are you doing so late?”
Here comes Lavinho, in all his chaotic glory and full dramatic uncle energy, with arms wide, sunglasses on his head, dancing up the sidewalk like he’s in a music video. He claps a hand on Bunny’s shoulder and beams at his phone screen. “Who’s this? Awww, look at her!” he coos. “Are you the one he called mi vida y mi corazon?”
Bunny looks like he wants to die. “He is lying, I didn’t say that.”
“Sí, sí, he said it. Swear on my career,” Lavinho declares proudly, planting a dramatic hand on his chest. “That reminds me he once asked me for dating advice on how to make a woman happy. So romantic, no?”
You’re absolutely fangirling on the screen, and is it possible to have hearts instead of pupils in your eyes? “Do you really think that about me?” you ask sweetly.
“No,” Bunny refuses to tell you the truth, but also refuses to lie, until Lavinho shouts again, “Bunny said you are the only reason he’s still playing! The little liar pretends he doesn’t care, but he’s so soft. Just like his little cheeks, I pinch them sometimes...”
“Okay, that's enough,” Bunny announces flatly, turning the camera to show him walking, then speeding up to run away, while Lavinho is chasing him in the background as the elder yells after him, “You love her, wanna kiss her, write her name on your boots!”
You’re wheezing, “Baby, I’m screen recording this right now. Didn't know you loved me that much~” Bunny groans as if he’s in his last life, but he secretly enjoys it, not that he would tell you, but you see it in his smile. “I should’ve let my phone die.”
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