#kaiser

the pressure was agonizing, mentally tormenting rin. his clear, intent goal to score was blurred because of all the high levels of energy and loud comments bubbling around him.

"tch," he muttered under his breath. "annoying."

sweating and staring anxiously at him ahead was the other team's goalkeeper. all rin had to ensure was the ball under his feet would swerve past the goalkeeper and make it into the net.

you stood in the vip area, hands nervously clenching around the cool, metal railing. the stadium was deafening, people screaming rin's name. at this moment, he was the only one who mattered in the world.

you blinked for only a split second and when you opened your eyes, cameras flashed so brightly the soccer field below was painted white.

rin scored.

the whistle blew, indicating the end of the match. his team won, with a score of 3-2.

reporters pushed against the barricades trying to reach him first after the game-winning goal. fans screamed so loudly, it'd be a surprise if your ears weren't bleeding.

rin shoved past teammates calling for him, ignored the microphones being shoved into his face, and sprinted straight toward the stands. his eyes searched the crowd with frightening precision until they landed on you.

"mr. rin, please one comment―"

rin ignored the reporters, climbing over the barrier. fans reached for him and security chased after him, but he didn't stop once.

once he reached you, rin cupped your cheeks.

"you were watching, right?" he asked breathlessly, teal eyes darting all across your face. his tone was desperate despite the stoic exterior he always forced onto himself.

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. "everyone was watching, rin."

"so?" rin scoffed. he pressed his forehead against yours. "i only care if you were watching."

behind rin, the stadium kept roaring, voices praising him. yet rin only listened to yours.

𝄞𝄢 itoshi sae.

sae grew up with fame. he was used to the loud crowds, flashing cameras, and pressurizing reporters relentlessly begging him for even a single word.

so after the final long whistle from the referee, sae handled the immediate swarm of reporters wanting to discuss his flawless performance with his usual detached demeanor.

"sae, what did you think of the final play?"

"do you think this victory secures re al a―"

sae locked eyes with you near the tunnel entrance ― where he knew you were waiting for him the entire time ― and his composure cracked.

his steps got quicker and the reporters scrambled behind him, confused but still determined to get him to answer their questions.

"aren't you supposed to be doing those interviews?" you asked as sae approached you. looking behind him, you winced at all the desperate reporters looking at him as if he was food and water.

"they can wait."

sae stopped right in front of you, eyes softer than they ever were on the field.

"let's go out. my treat."

"but you won." you playfully raised an eyebrow. "shouldn't i be the one treating you?"

"no," sae muttered, leaving no room for argument. without caring about the cameras pointed directly at you two, he took your hand and intertwined your fingers together. "let's get out of here."

the reporters' jaws dropped at the juicy sight unfolding (and disappearing) right in front of their eyes. they couldn't talk to sae directly, but at least there would be new headlines about him by tonight.

𝄞𝄢 micheal kaiser.

"kaiser over here! notice me!!!"

"kaiser can i get one photo!"

"can we get a statement about your goal?"

everyone in the stadium was worshipping kaiser, even fans from the opposing team. his talented performance from the match earlier ― resulting in an expected win ― left everyone admiring him.

kaiser loved the attention―he lived for the attention.

but he was only craving one person's attention right now, even if it was just a glance. he could care less about everyone else surrounding him.

the second kaiser caught you standing near the edge of the field, his entire expression brightened.

"found you, liebe."

kaiser jogged right past the reporters, grinning while the media erupted behind him. you barely had time to react before he dramatically dropped to his knees right in front of you.

"did my goals impress you liebling?"

you rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile.

"i guess."

"i guess???" kaiser furrowed his eyebrows, clutching his chest theatrically. "you are so cruel! those goals were specifically for you."

behind you two, the reporters and kaiser's teammates laughed. the cameras captured everything, displaying the interaction between you two on the big screens in the stadium.

"you always say that every match!" you scoffed.

kaiser stood up, wrapped an arm around your waist possessively, and flashed the cameras a smirk.

"and i mean it every time."

𝄞𝄢 kunigami rensuke. (post wc)

the reporters whispered amongst themselves, unsure of whether or not to approach the infamous kunigami.

he had just scored the winning goal of the match earlier, securing his soccer club the famous championship everyone loved worldwide.

but because of his interesting reputation, the reporters were hesitant to approach him.

as he walked by them, sweat clung to his skin, chest rising heavily. his exhaustion was evident.

"let's just talk to him," a reporter hushed to their co-worker.

the reporters began crowding around him, hands tugging him towards interviews.

he ignored them, pushing their hands off his body. he already had a person to talk to in mind.

you were patiently waiting in the front row of the bleachers, watching kunigami as he slowly approached you. his auburn eyes were on you too, gaze sharp and indifferent as usual.

"you waited the entire match," kunigami uttered as soon as he reached you.

"obviously!"

his shoulders relaxed at your voice, tension melting from his body little by little.

"you were amazing, ren," you whispered, placing a hand on his bicep.

as the words slowly processed in his mind, kunigami stared at you. his expression was slightly conflicted, as if he was trying to understand whether those words that came out of your mouth were real or just his imagination playing tricks on him.

after a couple of seconds, it clocked to kunigami that you actually spoke and that your words were genuine, spoken truly from your heart.

kunigami's lips broke into a smile—small, rare, and sincere.

𝄞𝄢 barou shoei.

barou smirked arrogantly as reporters chased after him.

just a while ago, the king scored three goals, helping his team win yet another match. of course his ego was incredibly boosted and the stadium chanting his name only fed his ego further.

the moment barou spotted you in the crowd, something in his tyrannical behavior changed direction instantly.

barou shoved a microphone away with an irritated click of his tongue.

"move."

"barou-san! one interview please—"

"i said move."

people parted instinctively as he strode toward you with the same overwhelming presence he carried practically anywhere and everywhere.

you crossed your arms teasingly. "ignoring your fans i see," you called out as he approached.

"i'm focusing on what's more important right now."

he stopped directly in front of you, towering over you slightly before firmly grabbing your chin.

"you saw who ruled this field, yeah?"

"o'course i did, king."

barou's chest swelled with some unnameable feeling. your attention was far more sufficient enough than admiration from his millions of fans all over the world.

𝄞𝄢 bachira meguru.

"another playful and frisky win executed by none other than barcha's star player, bachira!"

fans screamed his name endlessly while teammates celebrated around him. bachira looked radiant after helping his team win another match.

despite all the attention he was receiving, bachira felt as if something — no, someone — was missing.

he enthusiastically gushed over the match with his teammates, but his eyes were darting all over the place, desperately seeking out someone.

the second bachira spotted you near the railing, his entire face lit up brighter than the stadium lights.

"there you are!"

he immediately bolted towards you, ditching his teammates and ignoring someone attempting to pull him into an interview.

"bachira! media first!"

"nope!"

you barely managed to greet him before he tackled you into a hug, practically knocking the air out of your lungs.

"meguru!" you squealed, wrapping your arms around his frame. he was drenched in sweat, but that didn't matter.

"we won!" he grinned, yellow orbs sparkling. "did you see my pass? did you see my goal? did you see it? did you?"

"i did! i was watching you the whole time. you almost gave me five heart attacks!"

"that means i did good!"

"when are you not doing good in soccer?" you cooed.

bachira giggled—his laughter infectious, warm and carefree. you giggled along with him. he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

"it's really fun when you watch me play. i hope you always will."

𝄞𝄢 oliver aiku.

growing up with everyone praising his soccer skills and then landing a career in japan's u-20 team, aiku handled fame naturally.

today was just another day dealing with excessive attention from fans and reporters adamant to hear even a sentence from his mouth.

he performed exceptionally well in another match, leading to a beautiful win that fans and his team were craving.

aiku waved at fans easily, flashed cameras his charismatic smile, and answered endless questions with ease.

he glanced away from a reporter, only to spot you behind a crowd, watching him with a big smile. the second he noticed you, aiku's attention shifted.

"excuse me for a sec," he told the reporters casually. "i'll be back soon."

aiku knew he wouldn't return, not when you were there waiting for him with that pretty smile he loved so dearly.

you laughed as he walked over and pulled you somewhere more secluded.

"are you serious? you're gonna get yelled at later."

"so what?" aiku stepped in front of you, grinning, though his eyes carried something softer underneath. "it's worth it if i can be with you."

"tough game?"

"you have no idea."

aiku pulled you into his arms and buried his face into your hair, inhaling the faint, lingering smell of your shampoo.

"this feels way better than any win," he whispered.

© faeaabi 2026 do NOT: plagiarize, copy, translate, upload my work elsewhere + train ai with my work.

i don't do this kind of thing. i'm bad at it. and you know it. i'm bad at much more things than this. like understanding you. that day you pulled me to the flower shop and put a flower behind your ear. you looked like a doll. you are.

it was almost sweet, till you read—

maybe im giving you the wrong flowers. what kind do you like? meet me once and let me know.

── from shitty ex boyfriend to dollface

MICHAEL KAISER !

he hated that deep blue sundress of yours that had little rose designs, that felt like it was meant to be worn by you for him.

he hated it.

no he didn't.

he was head over heels for you.

days would be of him admiring you in it. nights would be of the dress on his bedroom floor.

god, he was gone.

usually, many would just throw away things that reminded them of their ex. but you loved the dress just as much as him. and perhaps, you haven't moved on. just like him.

he doesn't corner you. not really. you have all the free space to run away. and yet, you didn't. and he takes that advantage, leaning lower and closer to you.

"this is the third fucking time you're wearing it this month," yes, he's keeping tabs on you. yes, you're aware of it.

"you're insane, michael."

"and you're pretty, y/n," he just said that, sounding absolutely like a toxic possessive ex, "you know what's even more fucked up, y/n? that im trying to get over you and you keep getting...pretty. day by day. prettier and prettier and fucking prettiest."

lie. im trying to get over you. absolutely a lie. he's been after you shamelessly.

"michael—"

"you keep wearing this fucking blue dress i like."

"i can wear whatever i want!!"

"and im not stopping you. all im asking you..." he steps closer, "is to take me back, y/n. please."