please catboy kaiser x reader 🥹👀
Mk idek where this one was trying to go heh soz ;;;
◇ ╭(Push & Pull.)╮─── 2.1k.
Catboy!Michael Kaiser x GN Reader.
"Meow."
You turned your head in shock at the catboy in the corner of your room, his tail swishing back and forth against the ground. He obviously didn't trust you, not one bit, but for him to say something like that?
"Did you just say the word 'meow?'" You asked cautiously, scratching your head. It's probably the first thing he's said to you since... like, the first time you met him. It's usually hissing and warning growls.
His eyes narrowed and he turned away. He plopped down against the hard ground, refusing to give you any clarity on what happened or what he's thinking.
He moved in about a week ago. 8 days, precisely. Having found him in the run-down pet store, you couldn't ignore the way he clawed so desperately at his enclosure. Some may call you soft, but no hybrid should be stuck behind bars. To you, they're still humans. They've got extra assets, yes, but that doesn't take away from their humanity. If anything, shouldn't they be revered?
You rolled your eyes at the thought. Too late for something like that now, you think. You stretch out your arms and continue brewing the soup for today and tomorrow's dinner. Feeding another mouth was pricey, and you've had to thin out portions of your meals just to give him enough to eat. It seems no matter the portion size you leave out for him, he'll slurp it all down— not that you've ever seen him do it. For all you could know, he could be dumping it in the toilet, so you've been steadily increasing the amount each meal. Snacks were a try and a fail. Kaiser won't let you get anywhere close to him before swiping at your hand.
"Dinner's ready," you call out hesitantly. When you look over your shoulder, you see him still tucked in the corner not bothering to look, ears raised and in your general direction. He hears you, but never listens.
You sigh. Looks like I'll have dinner alone again.
— — —
It's been another week. He's still distant. It's a real problem right now.
You're trying to catch him. Chasing him around the house, stomping away carpets that make you slip and fall when taking a sharp corner.
He's had just about enough.
Again, he's tucked against the corner as your creeping fingers inch closer so hesitantly. His chest puffs up as he sucks in a breath, trying to press himself back against the wall best he can. Why can't you understand he doesn't want you to touch him anymore?!
"It's okay, Kaiser," you nearly whisper, "come on, please?"
He hisses deeply. Tail puffed and straight, his claws come up to try and scratch away your dodging hands.
"Get away from me!" He lets slip. His outstretched arm is keeping you at bay, but he doesn't think that he can hold out for much longer.
You try again, "Kaiser-" but he just presses his face into the surface next to him like it would let him phase through the wall to get away.
You've been so persistent. Not just now, but for the past week. Trying to get him to eat dinner with you, leaving annoying little toys at his side when he's sleeping, even having the gall to sit next to him! You have no sense of boundaries and it's clear you only picked him up as some sort of trophy. He's not just a pet.
I'm still like you. It's that part that he hates about himself.
You've retreated for now. Kaiser is left in the corner.
He clutches his forearm. It's still stinging.
His butt hits the floor with a heavy thud, arms crossed best he can as his tail thumps against his leg.
I don't need your help, he thinks, you're nothing to me.
— — —
It's been two days without catching him.
You're beginning to grow anxious. Head scratching and quick pacing around your living room does little to calm yourself down for what you're about to do next. It's not going to be pretty, you know, and you can't forgive yourself for what you're about to force on him, but it's the only way you'll be able to get close to him.
You suck in a gulp and stalk towards Kaiser, still in the corner, where his now noticeable labored breathing is still heavy.
You want to speak up and let him know what you're about to do, but you find that the words die in your throat. You're guilty without even doing anything yet.
Quietly, you reach a hand to him. He's so out of it he can hardly register your presence next to him.
You grasp his arm that's shielded by his body rougher than you intended, and he starts thrashing about when broken out of his sleep. You feel a slap to your face and faint throbbing where his claw caught your cheek, but you hold on anyway and start to climb over him in desperation. He's a lot stronger than you expected for someone who sits all day.
You're breathless as you wrestle and tackle his wound, gauze steeping the blood that oozed from his reopened cut.
"I'm sorry!" You yelp as a knee to your stomach knocks the words out. "I didn't mean to get so surprised!"
You'd cut him when he snuck up behind you on one late night. You were dicing fruit with the lights off like the sensitive-eyed idiot you were, and a shuffle plus a presence scared you out of your wits so bad you clutched the knife and whirled around, not realizing Kaiser was standing a lot closer than you thought.
He hisses at you, grabbing the collar of your shirt and yanks back to see your face fully. Your hands immediately reach up to get out of his hold, but his glare makes you freeze.
You swallow back your guilt as best as you can, wide eyed as you speak. "I know you don't like being touched," you start, rubbing the soft bandages in your fingers, "but you won't heal properly if I don't help—"
"I don't need your shitty help," he bites back.
You suck in a breath and keep going anyway.
"We were getting closer—"
"We were not."
"And I'm sorry I broke your trust by—"
"By stabbing me?"
"I grazed you..."
He scoffs and lets go, but not before pushing your shoulder away.
"Take a hint and leave me alone. I never asked to be here," he scoffs. He crosses his arms again with less difficulty than before, but you still don't feel like it's completely healed.
"I really am sorry, Kaiser." Your head whips around to look for a better resting spot than the floor. It's like he's boxed off this area as his property. "Do you want to at least move to the couch?" You offer, pointing to the living room.
His eyes slant towards you as he follows the direction of your finger. If you think you can trick him into doing your bidding, you're dead wrong.
Stabbing him once was bad enough. He's sure to not get too close if it happens again. And the couch? You make him sick with your warped little plan. You wanna get him on the couch so bad and sneak another attack, don't you? No way is he ever letting something like that repeat itself.
Never again, he promised himself. It was dangerous enough that you got so close in the first place.
— — —
It's been a month since the incident. Not even a big one, but it shattered whatever comfort Kaiser had yearned for in you. You wonder what he went through to make him so untrustworthy, but it's not like you can ask. He's still avoidant.
Every time you walk into a different room, you'll hear him shuffling around in the main area. When you come back, he'll either be in his corner or freeze completely, staring with wary eyes as he backs away.
You've tried beds, treats, toys, everything under the sun, but it never worked. He's not looking for comfort.
So you pull back.
The one thing is clear: he hasn't run away. Yet? You're not sure, but you're just grateful enough that he isn't the type to sneak out and get himself injured on the streets. Another thing is clear: he doesn't like you. There's no changing a first impression, and you wonder to the heavens what could've possibly went so wrong if not for the late-night incident, but you're not really in a position to change him. You understand that you can't change someone else, so the one thing you have to change is yourself.
You begin to simply leave out food without calling his name. The pestering of treats and new toys for him stops, and you hardly spare a glance when you pass by anymore. When you leave, you don't say, "I'm leaving, Kaiser!" When you come back you don't yell out, "I'm home!" It's just silent. The home's never felt so quiet with people inside.
Your only hope is that he softens a little bit, knowing that you won't push him anymore.
— — —
What the hell are you playing at?
For a week now, you've been ignoring him. First it was all "let's be friends" and now it's "I don't even care?" Were you really so sensitive that you're giving him silent treatment for not letting you touch his wound? Piss off!
Two can play at that game is what he thinks...
... for only three more days.
You're lying on the couch like you always do when the week thoroughly doused you in exhaustion. Slumped over the armrest where your phone starts to slip out of your limp fingers, your eyes methodically blink as you try and rub away drowsiness from your body. It's sharp and hits you in the back of the head, the late night movie becoming a regret rather than an indulgence as you finally rest your eyelids.
Kaiser is in his corner, but watching through the corner of his eye. You're so miserable when you slouch like that.
A few minutes pass, and he starts to move. Quiet padded footsteps make their way over to your sleeping figure. His shadow casts your face in darkness as the glow from the TV fades when the credits finish. The home is covered in silence, save for your shallow breathing and his thumping heartbeat.
You didn't say anything to him today either. Didn't even look. You just set his food out in the kitchen and ate your dinner on the couch. No coos of his name when you opened the front door. No attempts at a head pat. No sad look when he swipes at your hands.
Who do you think you are? Acting like he wasn't the most important thing you should be focused on. Do you actually want to keep him around or not? It's like you don't even care anymore!
He catches himself at the thought of wanting you to care. He shouldn't care that you don't care. He hates how used he's gotten to the way you would look at him with so much hope, as if there was something worth saving.
Kaiser looks down at you one more time. The steady rise and fall of your chest, and your mouth slightly ajar as you're off in catnip land, dreaming about all the ways Kaiser would warm up to you and you two would live as one happy family. He huffs when you twitch in your sleep as he drops to sit on the floor. His cheek hits the part of the cushion where you aren't sprawled over and he stares into your face.
Fine, he resolves, if you wanna be like that, I don't care.
Criss crossed and arms folded, he leans into the soft couch. His eyes become lidded as he watches you. The tip of his tail flicks up and down against the floor.
His arm is fully healed now. It didn't even leave a scar. Every time he looks at his arm, he's reminded of how you pushed him away. Then, he's reminded of the way you pounced on him, trying to fix your mistake. He thinks about the worry on your face when he shoved you back, about the soft tone you would use, and about the snacks you'd leave out— none of which are common anymore.
His eyebrows furrow. His eyes close completely, frustration gripping his heart while unpleasant thoughts swirl in his head.
He chooses to focus on listening to you breathe. If anything changed, he'd get up and leave, but nothing did. Your breathing stays consistent, posing as a lullaby as he carries himself to sleep. For some reason, the floor's more comfortable here than in the corner.
