#kaiser x fem reader

[kxsagi]

Hear me out.. Kaiser x psychiatrist reader !?!;&&(:&3 not like she was his patient but like she sorta met him through Some dating app and then met up after 3 months of online dating, and the moment they had conversations and observing his reactions, she could read him as much as he could read her, and he finds out she’s a psychiatrist and he starts to try and toughen out a little more but she calls him out but they end up in a chill date and see each other to the point where they get serious 🤞

“𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬”

a/n: hey pretty, ngl you requested this 5 times (i’m assuming by accident) 😭 but it’s totally okay lol

i really love this plot because i am a neuroscience major myself hehe

(dk art credits pls forgive me)

the city lights sparkle beneath you, stretching as far as the eye can see. you can’t help but admire how quiet and peaceful it is up here. it feels like a world away from the chaos of kaiser’s usual life. but then again, he’s still kaiser, even up on this private rooftop, surrounded by an absurdly expensive spread of food, wine, and the soft glow of string lights overhead. 

kaiser sits across from you, leaning back in his chair, trying to look like he’s the one who planned this whole thing. there’s an edge to his calm, as if he’s waiting for something to go wrong. it’s cute, almost like a nervous habit he’s pretending isn’t there. but you see through it. of course, you do. you always do. 

you pick up your wine glass, swirling it slowly, watching the red liquid move. “so,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. “this is our first in-person date, huh?” 

he shoots you a look, that signature cocky grin pulling at his lips. “i could have gotten you a better view,” he says, pretending to be nonchalant. “but i figured this would do.” 

“oh, i’m sure,” you reply with a raised eyebrow. “definitely better than the crowded restaurants or a public park. i mean, you want to avoid the paparazzi, right?” 

kaiser chuckles, but it’s the kind of laugh that barely hides his discomfort. you know he’s trying to maintain control of the situation, keeping that ever-present tough guy act. but it’s slipping. it always slips when he’s with you. 

“you’re not intimidated by me, are you?” he asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with that familiar challenge in them. 

you take a slow sip of your wine, deliberately keeping your gaze steady. “oh, no. i’m terrified. just like the rest of the world.” 

the way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise makes you grin. he hadn’t been expecting that. it’s a tiny victory. you’ve learned that, with him, the quickest way to get him to open up is to make him laugh, or make him feel just the tiniest bit uncomfortable. 

“you know,” he continues, putting his glass down, “i don’t really do dates like this.” 

you lean back in your chair, setting your wine glass aside. “why so?” you ask, feigning curiosity. 

he shrugs, trying to act casual. “i mean, i’m usually too busy with my career. dates like this,” he waves his hand in the air as if to gesture to the entire rooftop, “it’s not exactly my thing. but i figured… i don’t know. maybe this time’s different.” 

you let the words sink in for a moment, watching him squirm ever so slightly. “different, huh?” you tease, leaning forward. “i think i’m starting to understand. you think you have to impress me, right? show me how cool you are?” 

he coughs, looking down at his plate as if he’s suddenly lost his appetite. “what? no. of course not.” 

“uh huh,” you grin, barely holding back a laugh. “i don’t know, kaiser. it kinda sounds like you’re overcompensating.” 

he glares at you, but it’s more playful than anything else. “i’m not overcompensating,” he says with a huff. “i’m just trying to make sure you don’t regret this.” 

you pause, your gaze lingering on him. “kaiser,” you start slowly, “if i wanted to regret this, i would’ve gone on a date with someone like, i don’t know, someone else. but i’m here with you.” you give him a pointed look. “so relax. you don’t have to put on a show.” 

he lets out a long, dramatic sigh and leans back in his chair, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. “i knew i should’ve called someone for advice,” he mutters under his breath, but you catch it. 

“advice?” you ask, genuinely curious. “what’s that gonna help you with?” 

he shrugs. “maybe how to be more mysterious or something.” 

you laugh, unable to stop yourself. “mysterious? really? you’re already so mysterious, it’s like a puzzle that no one’s ever going to solve.” 

“oh, trust me,” he says, leaning forward with a sly grin, “you’re never going to solve it.” 

“we’ll see about that,” you tease, but then something shifts in your mind. the words come out almost without thought, something you’ve been meaning to tell him. “you know… i’m a psychiatrist.” 

kaiser’s smirk falters, his eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. “what?” he asks, his voice a little more cautious now. “you didn’t –” 

“yeah,” you interrupt, your tone light. “i’ve been reading you since the moment we met, kaiser.” 

he blinks, then leans back in his chair, clearly processing. “wait, that’s why you’re always so… i don’t know… good at reading me?” 

you nod. “yup. you’re not as complicated as you think. i just know how to pick up on the little things. body language, tone, how you react. it’s all pretty easy to read once you know how.” 

the realization hits him, and you can see it in his eyes. the pieces click into place, and a quiet awe settles over him. “so, you’ve been… analyzing me this whole time?” he asks, the hint of a smile on his lips, but now there’s something deeper behind it. 

“not exactly,” you laugh softly. “but i do pick up on things most people don’t. it’s part of the job.” 

“that’s… honestly kind of terrifying,” he admits with a chuckle, his eyes still locked on you. “no one’s ever been able to read me like that. not even my family, coaches, or teammates.” 

you shrug, taking another sip of your wine. “well, maybe that’s because they don’t know you like i do.” 

kaiser’s gaze softens, a little unexpected vulnerability showing. “and you’re not scared of it?” 

“scared?” you repeat, a bit confused. “why would i be scared? if anything, it just means i know when you’re full of shit.” 

he laughs, a genuine, hearty laugh this time, but there’s a warmth in it that wasn’t there before. it’s like the wall he’s been building up between the two of you is finally cracking. and you realize, with a jolt, that you’ve made him genuinely interested. not just in your words, but in you. and that’s something he’s never experienced before. 

“i don’t think i’ve ever had anyone see me like this,” he says, leaning forward, his voice quieter now. “and i like it. you’re not just another person in my life, someone who’s just there because of who i am.” 

you look at him, taking in his expression. for the first time, you can tell he’s not putting on an act. “so what does that mean for us?” 

he looks you in the eye, the confidence that usually lingers in his tone softened by something real. “i think it means i’m willing to see where this goes. seriously.” 

you smile, your heart skipping a beat. “yeah?” you tease lightly. “is this the part where you finally drop the whole ‘untouchable’ thing?” 

kaiser grins, a hint of his old arrogance creeping back into his voice. “maybe. but i’ll never make it that easy for you.” 

you laugh softly, leaning back in your chair, finally feeling like you’re on the same page. and for once, you’re not sure where this is going, but you’re both invested in finding out. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

no one noticed.

no one noticed when isagi yoichi would always walk you home, no matter how cold it would be that day. you never realized that his house was actually in the completely opposite direction of yours.

no one noticed when bachira meguru kept the worn-out friendship bracelet that you made him years ago even though you weren’t friends anymore and that you barely even talked to him these days.

no one noticed when chigiri hyoma always left a hair tie in your locker because he knew that you always forgot to bring one and constantly needed it in gym class because of your long hair.

no one noticed when kunigami rensuke always thought about how beautiful you looked and complimented you in his mind every day during school when he sees you first thing in the morning.

no one noticed when barou shouei always picked you to be on his team in gym class because he didn’t want you to be on the losing side and knew that no one else would pick you to be on their team.

no one noticed when mikage reo would always leave expensive, long-lasting pens on your desk whenever your pen ran out of ink. he knew you hated writing notes in pencil, and he wanted you happy.

no one noticed when nagi seishiro would subconsciously think of you and your favorite things whenever he was at a store, and before he knew it, his whole apartment was full of your favorite things.

no one noticed when itoshi rin always asked the kind old lady at the ice cream store to keep your favorite type of ice cream in stock because you were always so happy whenever you ate it.

no one noticed when michael kaiser would always play with you and talk to you in the park when you were little. no matter how swollen or bruised he was, he always made time to talk to you.

no one noticed when he cried in the bathroom at your wedding.

no one noticed just how much he loved you.

[vxn1ly]

ʚଓ Undress me, caress me , I just want yᰔu to fuck me.

Synopsis : You've been teasing Kaiser all night. Talking with his friends , looking at them with slutty eyes and ignoring him for no reason. And now it's payback time. What you sow , you shall reap , right?

𖦹₊ ⊹ cw: nsfw (smut), rough sex, unprotected sex (creampie), degradation, breeding kink (?), hair pulling, spanking, fingering, explicit language, vaginal penetration, overstimulation, bodily fluids (cum , spit), mirror play, verbal humiliation, possessive kaiser, crying, spitting, physical restraint, repeated orgasms, marathon sex, brat taming. Minors do not interact!

ᡣ𐭩₊ ⊹ Featuring — Michael Kaiser x 「fem」!reader

The door to the bedroom slams shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the walls like the warning you knew was coming. You barely have time to turn around before Kaiser's on you. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" he growls, grabbing your chin so tight it aches. "Batting your eyes at my friends like some filthy little whore?"

You open your mouth to speak — maybe defend yourself, maybe tease him more but he's not in the mood for words. His mouth crashes onto yours, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. His other hand is already yanking at your sorry excuse of a dress, tearing the zipper down without care, exposing skin like he's claiming it, owning it.

"You ignore me all night, act like I'm not even there. But now," he sneers against your neck, dragging his teeth along your throat, "you want attention? You want my attention? Is that why you were teasing me all evening, hm?"

He spins you around roughly, pushing you down over the edge of the bed. Your cheek hits the mattress as he shoves your legs apart with his knee. His hand finds your hair, yanking your head back, forcing a gasp from your lips. "Look at you," he spits, sliding your panties down with a rough tug, "dripping like a bitch in heat, and for what? The way I looked at you? Or the way they did?"

You open your lips again but nothing except a whimper comes out when his fingers slowly rubbed your already soaked slit. "Oh. You liked being watched, didn't you?" he growls, pushing two fingers into you with no warning. "So desperate for attention you didn't care whose eyes were on you."

"M-Micha..mhm..!" You gasp, hips bucking as his fingers thrust deep and rough, curling just right, finding that spot that makes your knees weaken instantly. He doesn't give you time to adjust — he's fucking you with his fingers like you owe him something. Like he's collecting a debt. Like he's punishing you for even glancing at others.

"Squelching like this...fuck, listen to yourself." He leans in, lips brushing your ear. "Dripping around my fingers after throwing yourself at other men all night. You are a whore." He adds a third finger and your legs tremble, head falling back against the pillow as a moan escapes you — loud and shameless.

"You're getting off on this?" He pulls back slightly, looking down at where his fingers are pistoning in and out of you. "Soaking wet, taking all three like the used-up slut you are." Then his thumb brushes your clit — sharp and fast — and your back arches off the bed.

"Fuck—Mich—!" You feel it building already, pressure burning in your gut, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tight like a vice.

"No. You don't get to moan my name now," he interrupts you , yanking his fingers out of you and shoving them into your mouth. "Taste what a fucking mess you are."

The moment you suck them clean — eyes half-lidded, lips wrapped around his fingers — his expression snaps. "You want to act like a little brat?"

He grabs your wrist and throws you down onto the bed, flipping you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing. "Then you're gonna get fucked like one."

"You wanna act like a slut in front of everyone, yeah?" he growls, yanking your panties off from the side completely and spreading your legs wide. "Then you'll take my cock like one."

His belt clinks. You barely catch your breath before you feel him — thick, hot, and hard ; slamming into your pussy in one brutal thrust.

"Ah! Michael..—!" You scream. He groans.

"Fuck..that tight little cunt's still trying to play innocent, huh?" he snarls, grabbing your hips so he can slam into you again, harder. "Too bad. You lost the right to beg when you were eye-fucking my friends."

You moan into the sheets. trying to push back on him, but he grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head up.

"Uh-uh. You don't get to fuck me back, not after that little stunt you pulled off," he snarls into your ear. "You just take it."

And you do — each savage thrust pounding into your pussy like punishment, each brutal slap of his hips against your ass driving the breath from your lungs.

"You're mine," he growls, pulling your hair back again. "Say it."

You gasp, panting, already too sensitive and overwhelmed. "I'm yours—I'm your filthy slut-!"

"Damn right you are."

He fucks you harder. Deeper. His cock stretching your pussy, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, making your walls tighten around him like it doesn't want his dick to leave your cunt.

"..fuck," he groans. "You're squeezing. You gonna cum, you dirty little whore?"

You nod, gasping — barely able to speak — and he pulls your hair harder, dragging your head back again so he can hear every filthy sound spilling out of your mouth. Your orgasm tears through you — violent, all-consuming, and white-hot. You tremble under him, legs giving out completely as you scream into the mattress, juices spilling down your thighs, body writhing beneath him.

And Kaiser doesn't stop.

His thrusts grow sloppier, rougher, until he buries himself to the hilt and groans deep in his throat. You feel the first pulse of his cock as he cums — hot, thick, messy filling your pussy up and leaking out almost immediately.

He stays deep, hips twitching, hand still tangled in your hair as you both pant for breath.

You barely move. Your body is limp, face buried in the sheets, his cum still warm and dripping out of your aching pussy. Your thighs are sticky. Your breath is shaky. But before your mind even starts to come back online, You feel him shift behind you.

Kaiser's hands are back on your hips, bruising and unrelenting. "Think we're done?" he mutters, voice low and gravelly. "You really think I'd let you off with just that?" Your mouth opens, but you don't get a word out, already fucked too dumb.

He pushes your thighs apart again — slow, deliberate; and your pussy twitches, overstimulated and still dripping from both of yours shared orgasm.

"Look at this filthy little hole," he growls, dragging two fingers through the slick mess leaking out of you. "Still gaping from my cock. You love being ruined, don't you?"

You moan weakly, shivering as he circles your clit with cum-slick fingers. It's too much and yet, It's not enough.

"Can't even close your legs," he taunts. "Can't even fucking speak."

He slaps your pussy, light but sharp and your whole body jerks. He spits on your pussy. Rubs it in. Then grabs his cock, still half-hard, wet, coated in your release and his — and starts rubbing the tip against your entrance. You whimper instinctively.

"You're already crying and I haven't even put it back in yet," he growls. Then he shoves in again — all the way with no warning. Your back arches off the bed, pain and pleasure slamming into you all at once as your pussy stretches to take him again. He's even rougher now. Unhinged. Obsessive.

"That's it," he groans, fucking into your swollen, fucked-out cunt like he's trying to break you. "So fucking tight again." The sound of skin slapping against skin is louder now wet, messy, constant — and he leans over your back, lips dragging along your shoulder.

"I'm gonna keep fucking this pussy until you can't walk," he snarls into your ear. "Until you're leaking so much cum you can't even think straight." His hand snakes around your waist, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing circles fast and relentlessly, while he pounds into your overstimulated cunt like he's chasing a high only you can give.

You're crying. Moaning. Clawing at the sheets. And it's so fucking good.

"Cum again," he growls. "Do it. Cum on this cock like the good little doll you are."

You can't fight it. Your pussy clamps down again, tighter than before, and you scream his name as your second orgasm tears through you like a tidal wave. You sob through it. Overwhelmed and broken open, as he fucks you through every aftershock, not slowing, not letting go.

"Fuck, fuck—" he grits out, and then he's slamming into you one last time, deep, hard, possessive. He cums again - hot and thick spilling into your overstretched pussy until you feel it dripping out immediately around his cock.

He stays inside. Breathing heavy. Fingers tangled in your hair. Cock still twitching inside your wrecked, soaking pussy.

You're shaking. Your pussy's ruined cum leaking out in thick, messy streaks, thighs trembling, lips puffy and raw. You should be done. You feel done.

But Kaiser doesn't give a fuck.

He pulls out slowly, and you sob a mix of relief and aching emptiness — but it lasts only seconds. His hand grabs your ass and spreads you open, eyes locked on your cum-dripping hole. "Look at that used little cunt," he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. "So red. So swollen. You've been fucked twice and it's still begging for more."

You barely moan a protest before he's spitting on it again mixing it with the mess he's already filled you with. His fingers spread it all around your pussy and down to your hole, playing with your ruined, overstimulated cunt like it's his personal toy. "This is what happens when you act like a brat," he growls. "You don't get love. You don't get mercy."

Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, yanks you toward the tall mirror across the room, and shoves you in front of it. You're bent over the vanity, hands pressed hard against the smooth wood, knuckles white from gripping it tight.

Your legs tremble, thighs slick and sticky, pussy dripping with cum and aching from everything Kaiser already put you through. He stands behind you, cock hard and pulsing, fingers digging into your hips like he's claiming you again.

"Look at you," he muses, his breath hot against your neck. "All spread out for me. This messy little cunt of yours leaking everywhere."

Your eyes flick up to the mirror right in front of you. Your reflection stares back-mouth parted, eyes glazed and wild, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

You watch as his cock lines up, sliding between your folds, pressing against your dripping entrance. His hand slides to your waist, then down, spreading your pussy lips wider, giving the mirror the perfect view of your ruined cunt. Red, swollen, dripping with your juices and his.

Without warning, he thrusts in hard, filling your cunt with that thick, hot cock. You gasp, hips bucking forward on instinct, but his grip tightens, holding you steady. The mirror catches every obscene moment: the way your cunt stretches around him, how your pussy juices glisten in the light, how your face twists with every brutal thrust.

"Eyes on the mirror," he commands, voice rough. "I want you to see exactly what a filthy little slut you are for me." His hips slam into you with relentless force, cock pounding your cunt like he's carving his name into you.

His hand snakes around, rubbing fast, merciless circles on your swollen clit, making your pussy twitch and your hips jerk against him. You cry out, breathless, your reflection mouthing silent moans as your cunt clenches down hard, dripping messily over his cock.

Your eyes never leave the mirror.

You watch yourself as he told you to — hips bucking, cunt squeezing, tears leaking down your cheeks — and scream his name again and again.

You're already on the edge; your cunt squeezing him again and again. Your orgasm slams into you so violently your whole body shakes, eyes rolling back as your cunt spasms around his cock. You scream hoarse and breathless ; your release gushing down your thighs, dripping onto the floor, coating him.

He fucks you through it. Doesn't stop. Doesn't let you stop. Then with a low, guttural moan he slams in deep, cock twitching, and fills your cunt with his cum again. His hips stuttering, cock pulsing hot ropes into your fucked-out pussy as your juices mix with his.

You both watch as it leaks out immediately white, messy, soaking your thighs as it runs down in sticky trails.

He doesn't pull out.

Just presses your trembling body against the mirror and growls, voice dark:

"Remember to not tease me again, darling," he purrs. "And I'm not done fucking you yet."

a/n : first fic lol

➤ ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა Follow , likes , comments and reblogs are very appreciated!!

[satorella]

“𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥” [𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍]

You caught 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 attention at a soccer conference in Japan about a year ago, where you were hired to take pictures for the sports magazine you worked for. At first, it was just him being his usual arrogant and cocky self when he randomly gave you VIP tickets just because.

“Oh… uh… d-danke, Herr Kaiser…” [Thank you, Mr. Kaiser] You gave him a polite smile. He tilted his head, “Ah, you speak German?” “Just a little… enough for a tourist to get by.” You answered. He nodded and smirked, “Cheer for me, ja?” [Yes?] He pointed at the tickets in your hand as he turned to walk away. “Ja…” You gave an awkward little wave.

Neither of you had any idea where this would eventually lead though…

A couple days later, you woke up with your head throbbing, and Kaiser sleeping soundly next to you... naked under the sheets. You looked around, realizing you were in his hotel room, and both of your clothes were thrown carelessly all over the place; on the sofa, on the counter, the floor, your panties were even hanging on the damn lamp. Then it all started to come back to you. What was supposed to just be a few innocent glasses of champagne at the afterparty of his game, turned into a bit more… obviously. Once you came to, you slowly slipped out of his bed, searched for your clothes, and quietly left his room.

Fuuuuuck, did you really have a one night stand with Michael Kaiser?!?!

After a couple hours, you opened your suite door to...

“Guten Tag, Schöne.” [Good day, beautiful.] Shit. “Herr Kaiser... hi... h-how’d you, um, know which room I was in?” You asked, looking both ways down the hallway. “I asked your little freund.” [Friend.] He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway you left your, ah, kamera in my room. I figured you might want it back for work.” He hands you your camera. “Oh! Danke!” You take the device. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I looked through some of the photos. I hope you don't mind.” He finally says before leaning down to your ear, “I enjoyed seeing the ones from last night as well.” He whispers, making a shiver run down your spine. Pictures? From last night? The hell is this guy talking about? Confusion and curiosity etched on your face, you turned your camera on and clicked through the recent photos...

You, your colleagues, Kaiser and his team taking shots.

You and Kaiser pouring each other shots.

You sitting on Kaiser's lap.

You, and what looks like, grinding on Kaiser.

You, completely blissed out, taking a selfie with Kaiser kissing your neck.

You taking a picture with Kaiser in the elevator door’s reflection; he stood behind you with his hands on your hips... while he was busy with your neck.

Kaiser leading you into his hotel room.

You, in Kaiser’s POV… sitting naked on the counter, eyes low and head thrown back as you laughed. (You honestly looked great in this pic… if it weren’t for you being naked😵‍💫)

Kaiser... taking body shots off you...

A mirror selfie with Kaiser positioned behind you... holding one of your legs up on the vanity... while he-

ALRIGHT, you got the point! You quickly shut off the camera and looked at anywhere else but him. He smirked, seeing how shy you suddenly got. “I-I’ll, uh, delete these… don’t worry...” You cleared your throat. “Just because you get rid of the evidence of our fuck-fest, doesn't mean I’ll let you forget it.” He shamelessly looks you up and down, “Are you free to do it again tonight?” You scoffed. The nerve of this guy!? “I-I’m not some bootycall, you perv! Du bist so ein perverser!” [You are such a pervert!] You whisper-yelled. He laughed at your attempt to insult him in his own language. “Really? But from what I can remember, all you could say was ‘Micha! So gut! Bitte! Bitte mehr!’ hm?” [So good! Please! Please more!] All the color drained from your face. “Okay. Guten Tag, und Auf Wiedersehen.” [Good day, and goodbye.] You tried to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with one hand, “Nein. Wait.” [No. Wait.]

…And that’s how your love story all began. Annoying way to meet the love of your life, right? Agh! Aber du hast trotzdem gelernt, ihn zu lieben. 💆‍♀️ [Agh! But you still learned to love him.]

Ever since that day, he subconsciously started talking to you more and seeing you more at soccer conferences; country to country. You were the only foreigner that could actually understand him and have a decent conversation with him in his native tongue. (Not to mention, you kept each other company at night.) At games, he would casually search the crowd for your familiar pretty face, knowing you’d be there; rocking his jersey, waving and screaming his name. You showed up for him at every game, wherever it was. Even though he was still kind of an ass, your constant presence started to make him feel… something. Something he’s always wanted, but would never allow.

Kaiser wasn’t one to catch feelings. He’d usually cut out anything that would distract him from his goals. Nor does he really have that many friends due to his arrogant and rude personality. Sure, he has his team, but ehh. Then there was the thing going on with you. He actually didn’t mind having you around. You weren’t clingy and annoying like most women were. And he enjoyed the sex, of course. But after a while, he started to notice that things between you started to become something a little more than just sex. Even just talking to you became part of his daily routine. You guys met up to have breakfast/lunch/dinner together if you were in the same city, and FaceTimed if you weren’t. There were times where he just craved to hear your sweet voice after a gruesome day of practice. Craved to hear your stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, but it was really your laugh that he wanted to hear when he was having some depressing late night thoughts. God only knows why you still stick around. He’s insufferable half of the time, but here you were… choosing to deal with his bullshit.

All of it.

With time, you started to become the support system, the companionship, the patience, and the love he’s always wanted, needed, but was too prideful and damaged to ever ask for. You understood him. You were always there for him. And for once in his lonely life, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Currently, you and Kaiser were in his hotel room, massaging his scalp as he laid his head in your lap. You came to surprise him at one of his home games in his home country, Germany, after telling him just a few days ago that you wouldn’t be able to make it.

“I could have flown you out here, meine Schönheit. Tsk.” [My beauty.] He lightly scolds you. “But that would’ve ruined the surprise, ja?” You smiled. “Tsk.” He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand to his neck, “Here. Massage me here.” He demanded. “So sassy, mein Schatz.” [My darling.] You chuckled, but did as he said, massaging over his blue rose tattoo. He closed his eyes. “Your touch, it’s relaxing, meine Liebe.” [My love.] He said, which was a little unusual. He was being sweet and focusing on you, rather than bragging about how his team wouldn’t have won without him; which was what he usually did after a win. You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead as a reply. You weren’t sure how to respond to that… without saying the wrong thing and risking ruining his good mood. He opened his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you. He pulled your head back down, capturing your lips in a kiss. After a moment, he pulled away and caressed your cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Engel.” [I love you, Angel.] He said quietly, which was another rare occasion with Kaiser where he actually used his words to express his feelings. “And I love you.” You smiled, hovering your lips over his, “Are you okay?” “Ah, meine Liebe. I’m alright, just… tired from playing.” He said as he reached up to move a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His bright blue eyes were scanning your face, watching every expression and detail. “I’m glad you’re here...” He ran his thumb over your cheek, “I can always count on you.” He sat up and pulled you on top of him, his hands moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him.

“Michael!” You gasped as you felt his semi-hard poking the inside of your thigh. “I thought you said you were tired?” “I said tired from playing, mein Liebling. Not in other activities.” You playfully rolled your eyes. Ah, now you understand why he’s being so lovey dovey… he’s horny! He chuckled in his rough German accent as his hands began to roam your body. “I missed you these last few weeks.” “Ja, I can see that… or I mean, feel it.” You snickered. “Ah, mein Engel. Du bist so wunderschöne.” [My Angel. You are so beautiful.] He praised you as he gave your jawline soft kisses. He grunted a little when he felt your lower half grind against him, causing him to squeeze the plush fat of your ass under your denim skirt. He wanted to be gentle, but that’s proving to be quite difficult for him right now. He needed you. “Mein Engel, bitte. Lass mich dich lieben.” [My Angel, please. Let me love you.] He pleaded quietly as his hands continued to roam your body, slowly lifting his jersey off of you. “Ich will dich.” [I want you.] You let the jersey fall to the ground, tilting your head to the side as he kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you throb at your core.

Kaiser turned, laying you down on the sofa and positioning himself in between your legs. “Ich liebe dich.” [I love you.] He murmured as his lips began to trail down your neck, down your chest. He took one breast in his mouth, and sucked on your hardened nub. You let out a whimper, arching into him, practically smooshing your chest in his face. His tattooed hand journeyed down your body. “So Schöne.” [So beautiful.] He hissed, pushing your legs open wider for him to have more room. He wasted no time in bunching your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side, dragging a finger up your slit, collecting your slick. His finger began tracing circles around your entrance before slowly pushing it inside you. “Ah, du bist so feucht für mich…” [You are so wet for me…] “Hnngh!” You moaned, nails digging into the sofa. “Komm für mich. Be the good girl I know you are.” [Come for me.] He murmured against your skin, lightly nipping you in random places. He inserted another finger in you, pumping at a slow, but good, pace and curling them both slightly to rub that sweet spot that always had you seeing stars. “M-Micha!” You whined, writhing beneath him. “Let yourself go on my fingers…” He said, his voice low and raspy. And like the good girl you were for him, you did as he said. As always. You shut your eyes as you came on his long, thick fingers; panting and moaning his name. He grabbed your chin during the middle of it with his free hand and forced you to face him. “Look at me.” He demands. Your eyes fluttered open, trying to stop them from rolling back from pure ecstasy. “That’s it. There’s my girl.” He lets you ride out your high, before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

He reached between you to pull the knot on his robe loose, and lets it fall on the floor next to the jersey, then positions himself at your entrance. “Ich brauche dich...” [I need you...] He whispers as he pushes into you, letting out a deep groan and grunting. “Gott, du bist so eng.” [God, you’re so tight.] You let out a louder moan at the stretch, your nails digging even more into the sofa. He slowly slid out almost all the way before thrusting back in deeper. Harder.

“So gut...” [So good...]

Fuck, maybe you two should spend time apart more often.

© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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Note: It’s implied that all characters in this oneshot are of drinking age!🍻

[xavcore]

footballer!kaiser x photographer!reader◞ mdni 18+◞ @ xavcore .

sports is all about winning and being famous. he's got both, so you're gonna cover him, easy right? but it didn't go as you planned.

footballer!kaiser had his gaze fixed on you ever since you stepped on the field, it was just an accidental eye-contact which got him so attracted, why not give the hot lady some perfect shots she's here for?

footballer!kaiser didn't seem to miss any chance to look over to your side everytime he scored a goal, but you made focusing on the game harder for him although he still won no matter what—how could he not win in front of you?

footballer!kaiser walked a little towards you, who adjusted the camera to get that one perfect shot you were here for the wink his fangirls would go crazy over.

footballer!kaiser gave you quite a bunch of his 'rizz' poses, which you thought he only made for his fans, who knew it was all he'd do only for you.

footballer!kaiser also invited you for a drink and to get to know more about you, mainly what was under that shortest mini skirt he had ever seen that you had worn.

footballer!kaiser had to carry you to his house four blocks away when you were half-drunk already and had spilt the whole wine bottle all over your blouse making your lace bra awfully visible to everyone, which he didn't like at all.

footballer!kaiser made sure to make you sober and then change into his comfy hoodie, which got his boner almost spilling outta his pants which got you all excited—how big could an average man's cock be? 6 inches? nah, he was all the way to 8.

footballer!kaiser got your pussy's cum all licked clean and ended the day by fucking the hell outta you, right after asking you out to be his girlfriend.

but, it wasn't actually the end. he needed you more, the most he'd ever want. you were the only woman he ever wished for, after all.

♡ divider creds to @ fairytopea ⸝⸝

[quandledlngle69]

TW: drinking, clubs, flirting, mention of wanting a one night stand, fem!reader.

Imagining the Bastard München team going out to a club, and it’s easy for them to get girls for sure, but no one gets them more than Michael Kaiser. He’s always leaving at the end of the night with a girl or two, something his teammates have gotten used to, they were elite footballers after all. 

You and your girlfriends are sitting at the bar, giggling and gossiping away, an air of fruity alcohol and overly sweet perfume waffling in the air. The conversation topic changes when the bartender puts an espresso martini in front of you, telling you the guy with the choppy blonde dyed hair sitting in the booth brought it for you. 

You look where the bartender’s pointing, making eye contact with the handsome man who was smirking at you. Your girlfriends go crazy, anything but hushed whispers, telling you that was a famous footballer eyeing you, Michael Kaiser–and how attractive he was–blah, blah, blah.

As you sheepishly tell them to calm down, you feel a presence behind you, turning around when his friend–you think–taps you on the shoulder. 

Your head automatically cranks up at the figure looming over you. He says something about being asked to give Kaiser's number to you, but you're not listening. Your eyes take in his biscuit–brown locks, the ends dipped in a mulberry purple that matches his eyes. He has such a baby face, you thought, taking in the barely noticeable freckles dotted like constellations on his cheeks. He’s not as conventionally attractive as his fellow teammates, but you're looking at him with stars in your eyes. 

You don’t remember when he’s finished his rant, but you ask him his name. He says it's Ness, and he sounds nervous as he says it. You purposely repeat it back to him, and you like the way it rolls off your tongue–like hard rock candy.

You ask him to sit down on the bar stool next to you. He looks back at his table as if not expecting this, but eventually, he stiffly sits down.

You don’t talk to him about how attractive his teammates are, or ask him to do anything for you. No, you only ask him about him. Any attempt at his to mention Kaiser was shut down completely. You smile, and you giggle, and he finds you both have a lot more interests in common than he thinks. Every time you gesture at him to come closer with a curved finger, when you cup the side of your face to whisper in his ear, you think it's adorable the way the tip of his ears go pink.

Theres no sense of disgust coming from you, no hint of rejection in your perfect features, and Ness thinks his heart might implode.

Half an hour in, you're mindlessly kicking your feet, twirling your hair between your fingers, tracing the rim of your empty glass with a manicured finger. Your girlfriends and his teammates can’t believe the absolute bedroom eyes you were giving him. He’s never had such a pretty girl so openly interested in him before, he thinks he’s actively dreaming.

The biggest glossy pout is given to him when he states he can’t come home with you, and you slide him your phone instead, bluntly telling him to put his phone number in, not taking no for an answer. 

You blow him a kiss before sending him off back to his shocked teammates, dazed and overthinking.

You want that cookie bad, bad. And you were gonna get it no matter what.

Quandaledlngle69 © 2025

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Credit for theme: dollbrbie

[ninibeingdelulu]

It's too much ?

a/n: suggestiveness (a lot)

Your fingernails rake down the taut planes of his heaving back as his hips pin you deliciously to the mattress.

Swollen lips crash together in a messy tangle of heat and need drawing breathy whimpers from your very core with each sinful sweep of his tongue.

"Mmm..." Another desperate moan catches in your throat when he grinds down with purpose, coaxing delirious friction against that throbbing ache rapidly blooming between your thighs.

His name drips like melted sin from your kiss-swollen mouth in encouragement.

Before you can even register the movement, he suddenly wrenches away - chest heaving and his eyes wide with molten arousal.

You whine pitifully at the abrupt loss of contact until his forehead thumps against your shoulder accompanied by a strangled groan torn straight from his gut.

"Fuck..."

The singular expletive rasps out in an utterly wrecked breath fanning over your already feverish skin.

You can't bite back the husky giggle that bubbles up at how thoroughly ruined that typically stoic demeanor has become in mere moments.

"Aw...can't handle a few little kisses there, baby ?"

You tease with a breathy lilt, fingers ghosting back up to toy with the damp strands sticking to his nape.

"My lips must be very good to have you so hot and bothered already..."

His head shakes minutely against your collarbone before shifting enough to angle that scorching bedroom stare directly into your now hopelessly dazed one.

Those powerful hands instantly slide upwards to map every tantalizingly bare inch - practically searing your flesh in tingling trails.

"No...I can handle those just fine..."

He visibly shudders when you boldly arch up into his caressing palms with a teasing whimper for emphasis.

"It's the obscene little noises you keep making,...shit. You have no idea what those fucking sounds do to me..."

He punctuates that particular statement by sealing his mouth over yours once again with a possessive growl quickly swallowed between famished lips.

You smile victoriously into the fiery clash of tongues and roaming hands intent on reducing you both to puddles before morning's light.

cloud strife, zack fair, megumi fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, rin itoshi, sae itoshi, yoichi isagi, michael kaiser, sasuke uchiwa, aki hayawaka, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, shota aizawa, levi ackerman, eren jaeger

[tinlune]

The Discovery

Kaiser’s taken?

Everyone in Bastard München got quite the shock when a woman suddenly showed up at one of their practices out of the blue. A real, live woman. That was unfathomable to the teenage boys, most of whom were painfully awkward when interacting with a member of the female species outside of their immediate family.

Everyone was still, the silence deafening. No one knew who she was, except for Kaiser who began to walk up to the mysterious woman with his signature cocky grin.

“You just can’t get enough of me, can you? Was it too long for you to wait mein engel?

The team just stared on as Kaiser flirted with this woman but with an obvious degree of familiarity. Why was the team’s ace calling this random lady a sweet nickname, romantic nickname..oh. Oh. Wait, Kaiser was in a relationship? And that just opened up a whole new can of worms.

Strangely enough, Noel Noa wasn’t doing anything about the disturbance. In fact, he looked bored. Like this was a completely normal thing to happen..or he was expecting it.

“You’re so full of yourself but what if I did miss you?”

“Then I would think that’s adorable. Now, let’s go somewhere else to talk, where we won’t be looked at like we’re the entertainment for the night.”

“Whatever you want.”

And they walked off, Kaiser guiding her to some unknown location.

When the pair was out of sight, the team erupted into chatter. “Who is she? Do you know her? Does Kaiser actually have a girl? More importantly, how did she get in here? Why?” Many of the Blue Lock guys were lost navigating this new dynamic, especially when they were still acclimating to this new team.

After allowing them a few moments to process and talk amongst themselves, Noel Noa spoke up. “Why are you all standing around here doing nothing? Is this not a place for you to hone your skills?”

A collective mumbling of sheepish “yes Coach” followed, the crowd dispersing and going off to the practices they were doing before, albeit more distracted.

Noa simply sighed. It was tiring dealing with teenage boys day in and day out, not to mention push them into their full potential.

The next day Kaiser was back, acting as if yesterday had never happened and the rest of the team had collectively hallucinated it. No one tried to ask him about it, which culminated in the entire team just sort of awkwardly glancing at Kaiser, hoping that he’ll take the hint and just start talking about it, which he thankfully did.

“If you all are wondering about yesterday, yes I have a girlfriend.” Wife actually but he didn’t exactly want to deal with the whole line of questioning about being married.

And Isagi couldn’t just keep his mouth shut and asked the question for everyone. “How?”

“Oh Yoichi, what do you think? We confessed to each other and we’re dating, simple as that.”

But Isagi didn’t look convinced and neither did anyone else except Ness who was just nodding along like every word Kaiser said was an indisputable fact of life.

“No I mean how did you get her to stick around? You two clearly have been together for a while so how does she deal with you?” The filter between his mouth and brain clearly must have been removed somehow because there was no gap between what he was thinking and what he was saying.

“You act as if I’m the most unpleasant person to ever traverse the Earth, you wound me Yoichi. And to answer your question, she sticks around because she wants to.” Kaiser was actually quite amused by this whole questioning thing, who knew it would be so funny to watch his teammates be dumbfounded that he had a relationship?

Isagi still looked at him like he was saying grass is blue but fortunately, the filter between his mouth and brain had come back so he wisely chose not to engage further.

“Oh Yoichi I know you are so curious about what goes on in my life but stick to your own won’t you? The attention is flattering really but it can get annoying if you keep going.”

Isagi just walked away to another area of the pitch, deciding to be the bigger person this time.

Kaiser merely sighed. It was hard work being the center of attention, always having eyes on you. At least he had you to come back to.

[ceruark]

what do you want from me?

[fem! kaiser x fem! shy! reader. university au.] synopsis: kaiser’s just a mean girl who’s found amusement in picking on you, as if this is high school and not college. what else could it possibly be? wc: 4.5k cw: explicit smut: fingering, oral sex. MDNI. a/n: wrote this with one hand, my bad guys

kaiser terrifies you.

you would say her reputation precedes her, but her striking looks come before even that: uneven yet perfectly styled blonde hair with the ends dyed blue, piercing eyes outlined in bold red eyeliner, and of course, the blue rose tattoo that starts at her neck and spans the entirety of arm. 

her appearance alone is enough to intimidate everyone she comes across, but her attitude wards off anyone bold enough to still try to come close to her. cold, condescending, and mocking, kaiser is notorious for her scathing comments and superiority complex, so it’s not odd that you—and most everybody you know and talk to—steer clear of her. 

so when she plops down into the seat next to you during the first class of the term, you involuntarily freeze, the pen you’d been twirling between your fingers going still. your heart sinks into your feet, and you can feel yourself break into a cold sweat as she unpacks her laptop from her bag and settles in. 

surely it won’t be that bad. all you have to do is not speak to her—not too difficult, given that it’s a large class and this professor doesn’t really do small group discussion. if you just keep your head down and mind your business, everything will be fine, right?

wrong. 

kaiser doesn’t like to be ignored. not that you’re ignoring her—you can’t really do that when she hasn’t spoken to you at all—but it’s obvious you’re avoiding her. you sit as far away from her as possible, always avert your eyes and busy yourself with something when she enters the classroom, and you never glance in her direction the entirety of the lecture, scurrying out of the room the second it’s finished. 

you don’t realize that such meek behavior is what will catch a predator’s attention in the first place.

it’s the start of the third week, a few minutes before class starts, when kaiser leans halfway across the table and into your space. 

“hey, maus,” she says, angling her head so she’s right in your line of vision. 

you startle a little, and she snickers at your reaction. 

“jumpy little thing, hm?” she tilts her head to the side in a way that feels mocking. your stomach twists with anxiety. she nods at your laptop and asks, “do you have a charger i could use?”

“oh, uh—” you glance at her laptop, checking if it’s the same charging port. “yeah, sure,” you answer, and rummage through your bag to get your charger out. “here.”

her fingers brush over yours in a way that’s too precise to be accidental when she takes it from you. you pull your hand back just a little too fast, earning another laugh from her. 

you grit your teeth as you stare at the front of the room, where the professor is getting set up. it’s going to be a long semester. 

by the sixth week, you’re fed up with her toying around with you, and you decide to show up to class a few minutes after the time she usually shows up—and sit in a different spot, all the way across the classroom. 

a bold move on your part, one that you’ll surely pay for.

now you’ve turned it into a chase. it’s a constant guess of when you should show up, and eventually, it reaches the point where you’re sliding into a seat with mere seconds to spare just so you can avoid her showing up after you and sitting beside you. 

by the eighth week, she breaks the unspoken rule of your little game and approaches you outside of the classroom.

you’re scrolling through your phone and loitering in a hallway close to your class, waiting for minutes to turn into seconds before the bell rings, when you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. you can see the black-ink vines wrapping around it in your peripheral, and immediately go rigid in response.

“fancy catching you here, maus,” she says in that tone that sends chills down your spine. you glance up at her to see her smirking down at you. “how about we walk to class together?”

you stop trying to avoid sitting next to her—it’s inevitable that she’ll find you, somehow, no matter where in the building you’re hiding. 

but it’s far too late to undo the damage your decision has done, as it seems you’ve opened pandora’s box; kaiser continues to pester you anywhere on campus, no matter who you’re with or what you’re doing. she even shows up in places you know she really has no business being in, and you start to feel like you’re being hunted for sport.

you might be, with the way she looks at you like she wants to kill you. your friends give you a pitying look when you express this to them, some even looking at you like you’re a little dumb, but you don’t really get why. kaiser’s just a mean girl who’s found amusement in picking on you, as if this is high school and not college. what else could it possibly be?

you seal your fate—the one your friends have seen coming from a mile away—when you somehow end up helping the blonde out.

now, kaiser is more than capable of holding her own; this much is obvious, given her reputation around campus, and her displayed behavior toward you.

but if there’s anything you hate more than a mean girl, it’s a man with a massive ego who can’t take a hint.

some guy has his arms propped up against the table, standing in front of kaiser and leaning into her space. her face is fixed in cold neutrality, but her eyes are blazing with irritation and barely contained fury.

“c’mon, baby, don’t be like that,” you hear him say as you draw closer to your spot next to kaiser.

“not your baby,” kaiser says dismissively. “get out of my face or i’ll make you regret it, you worthless clown.”

“oh, yeah?” the brunette leans even closer. “is that a threat, or a promise?”

kaiser’s eyes narrow, and she’s sneering now. “you don’t wanna find out.”

the guy laughs, cocky and grating. “already did the last time you spent the night, but i could go for a refresher.”

you don’t like kaiser—you can’t stand her most days. but you’d sooner keel over and die before you stand by and let this happen.

you loudly set your laptop onto the table, drawing both of their attention to you. you lock eyes with the brunette as you sit down, and tilt your head to the side as if deep in thought. then, you gasp softly and hold a hand to your mouth, widening your eyes as you turn to kaiser.

“is this the one you were telling me about?” you say, quiet enough to pass as a whisper, but loud enough for the guy to hear. “the one who couldn’t make you come?”

the person on the other side of you coughs loudly into their hand. it sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

you watch as the brunette flushes bright red in fury.

“stupid bitch,” he spits at kaiser. “you’re ran through, anyway.”

he storms out of the classroom just as the professor is entering, leaving the poor bespectacled man confused as he nearly barrels him over in the midst of his dramatic exit.

kaiser whirls on you the second the professor starts his droning. she leans into your space, a common occurrence at this point, and coos at you as she balances her cheek against her palm and tilts her head at you. “was my little maus worried about me?”

“worried? no, you can take care of yourself.” you huff, “i just thought it would do him well to be humbled.”

“oh, you don’t have to lie to me, pretty girl.” the name is enough to catch you off guard, but the pen that twirls a strand of your hair around it has you jumping like you were at the start of the semester. “it’s clear you care about me.”

you look at kaiser, and though that same dark look you’ve gotten used to seeing is present, you no longer think it means she wants to kill you.

and you don’t think whatever feeling is settling in your stomach is dread anymore, either.

and of course, because nothing in this world can ever go your way, the professor does something unprecedented, something he’s never done for this class: he assigns a partner project, where you and someone else in the class will have to write a paper and present on the topic in class.

kaiser latches onto you before you can even finish processing how totally, utterly fucked you are. you two spend the class period settling on a topic and doing preliminary research. by the end of the period, you’re exchanging numbers and planning a meeting outside of class.

“we can meet at my apartment on friday,” she says, “it’s on this side of campus, so we can just head there after class.”

“i was actually thinking the library would work better,” you suggest, impressed with how you keep the desperation out of your voice.

“it’s a late class, we’ll probably want to eat dinner, so my apartment will work fine,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. then she tilts her head at you in that calculating way, gives you a once-over, and asks, “you wouldn’t deprive me of a meal, would you?”

you spend the rest of the week mentally preparing yourself for whatever friday is going to bring.

it starts off fine. normal, even. she sets you both up in her room, claiming that her roommate might be back with some friends soon, so they’ll need the living room. you both sit criss-cross on her floor, laptops before you, and you actually manage to finish the essay and finalize your notes for the presentation.

you’re timing yourself on your part of the presentation when you sigh in frustration after stuttering over your words for the umpteenth time.

kaiser raises a brow at you. “what is it?”

you sigh. “i’m not good with being in front of people. surprising, i know.” you roll your eyes at her little smirk. “i just—if i look at someone when they’re looking at me, i freeze up. it’s distracting.”

kaiser hums. “so you have trouble presenting because of… distractions?”

you don’t like the way she said that, but she’s not exactly wrong. “i mean, i guess so.”

your stomach flips as she shuffles closer to you, sitting so close that your thighs are pressed together. “we’ll just have you practice with a distraction, then.”

she leans around you to start the timer on your phone, her chest brushing up against your arm as she does. you feel your mouth go dry.

“go on,” she says, staring at you. she still hasn’t leaned away from you. “you’re wasting time.”

clearing your throat, you begin reading from the script pulled up on your laptop. you’ve barely made it through three sentences when kaiser reaches up and begins trailing her fingers along your collarbone, occasionally snagging them on your necklace and giving it a tug.

after a mere minute of this, she unclasps the jewelry and sets it to the side.

then, she leans in and presses a kiss to your pulse.

you stutter to a stop, stiffening at the contact.

“so nervous,” she chides in between the quick kisses that she trails up and down your neck. “how do you expect us to pass if you’re going to freeze up like this, hm?”

swallowing down the want mounting within you, you continue reading, fighting to keep your voice steady.

you manage to get another uninterrupted minute in before you’re gasping as she presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your jaw.

“keep going,” she whispers into your ear, her hot breath fanning across your cheek.

your voice trembles as she grips your waist and tugs you closer into her side. she trails her mouth low, lower, until she’s sucking loudly at the junction between your neck and shoulder. the end of a word trails off into a needy whine as she bites down, and you can feel her smirk into your skin.

you’re halfway through the presentation when her hand moves from your waist to your jeans and begins undoing them. your voice gets a bit high-pitched as she slips a hand down them and trails it along your thigh, voice getting higher the closer she gets to the wetness building between your legs.

your breath hitches when her fingers graze over the wet spot on your panties.

“you’re not finished yet, maus,” she croons into your ear. “let me hear you, hm?”

you get a minute more into the script when she finally applies pressure to the area, expertly rubbing circles into your clothed clit. you keen and buck up into her hand, your words coming out breathy and each sentence punctuated with a light moan as she continues petting you.

“okay, i—” you release a shaky exhale as kaiser begins sucking at your neck again. “i’m done.”

kaiser hums into your skin, then pounces on you fully. in a flurry of movement, she takes your pants and panties off in one go, leaving you barren on her floor. you squeak as she forces you into her lap, spreading her legs wide and hooking yours around hers to leave you split open for her.

“wait, i—” you grab her hands before they can make it to your dripping cunt. she gazes down at you, voracious and impatient. “i’ve never done this before.”

she laughs—a little demeaning, and also low and amused. “i know, maus,” she says before grabbing you by the jaw and pulling you into a deep kiss. when you part, she strokes your cheek with her thumb. “let me take care of you, okay?”

you nod slowly, and she presses one more kiss to your lips before forcing your face forward.

you flush bright red when you realize she’s positioned you both in front of her mirror. you can see yourself dripping onto her floor, your clitoris puffy and pink from being teased.

“we have to get you to overcome your fear of audiences, hm?” you squeak as she bites at your ear, which is quickly followed by a moan when she brushes her fingers against your clit. “don’t move your head. i want you to watch.”

she traces slow, agonizing circles into your clit with one hand, slithering one finger into your hole with the other. you seize up at the intrusion, not used to the sensation, so she sets a slow pace, working you into it before picking up speed and, eventually, slipping a second finger in.

by the time the third makes it in, you’re a panting, writhing mess. watching her fingers thrust into you, coming out coated in even more of your essence every time, just makes the heat pooling in your gut even worse.

“‘s too much,” you slur out between whines. “too full.”

“don’t complain,” she commands, lightly smacking your clit and causing you to jolt. “you’ll take what i give you, hm?”

she curls her fingers cruelly, causing your thighs to jerk and a loud moan to rip itself from your throat. “answer me,” she says.

“yes,” you whine. “yes, i will, i will.”

“good girl,” she hums, then starts scissoring her fingers in and out of you at a breakneck speed. she moves her other hand away for just a moment to wrap her arm around your waist and adjust you in her lap. your ass is planted firmly against her crotch, and she starts rocking her hips against you as she continues fucking you on her fingers. 

it's not long before the last thread inside you unravels and you’re throwing your head back, crying out as you come undone on her fingers, hips bucking up into her hands and thighs shaking erratically. she fucks you through your orgasm, not easing up until you go slack against her, slumping against her chest with soft whines leaving you.

she pulls her fingers out of you and holds the digits in front of your face, spreading them wide. you watch, entranced, as your cum fills the space between them in stringy, sticky lines.

“what a messy girl,” kaiser says lowly, “you should clean up after yourself.”

she presses her fingers to your closed lips. in your haze, you open them without protest, allowing them to enter your mouth and tasting yourself on them.

you lock eyes with her in the mirror. her gaze is dark, and you wonder how you ever thought she wanted to do anything besides devour you whole.

“suck,” she commands.

your cheeks hollow out around her fingers as you obey, and the shaky breath she exhales goes straight to your core, lighting it up again.

when you’ve sucked them clean, she takes her fingers out of your mouth and rises to her feet. swiftly, she unbuttons her own shorts and tosses them to the side, her panties, bra, and shirt following them. 

she sits down on her bed, then beckons to you with the fingers still wet with your saliva. “come here.”

on wobbly legs, you move to join her on the bed. she grabs you by the hips when you reach the edge, digging her nails into your flesh and squeezing at the plushness there.

“on your knees,” she instructs as she guides you into a kneeling position on top of the bed. she holds you by the waist so that you’re suspended in the air while she slips a thigh in between your own. her legs interlock with yours, and you bite your trembling bottom lip at the sensation of her bare pussy pressed against your thigh, and yours against her thigh.

her hands slide up your waist, fingers hooking into your shirt and tossing it off the side of the bed in one fluid motion. with one hand, she unclips your bra and discards it in the same manner. 

with both hands cupping your face, she pulls you in and kisses you deeply, rocking her hips and grinding down on your thigh. your soft whimpers are muffled by her tongue as she shoves it down your throat and traces the crevices of your mouth. she pushes you flush against the headboard with her body, the feeling of her breasts pressed and bouncing against yours making warmth flood the area between your legs.

hesitantly, you reach a hand up to cup one of her breasts, experimentally running a finger over her nipple. with a soft grunt, she places her own hand over yours and squeezes, encouraging you to be rougher. after only a few minutes of groping and pinching her nipples, she’s moaning into your mouth, her thrusts now faster and harder as she chases after her own satisfaction.

suddenly, she pulls away from your mouth, and you barely have a moment to process the long trail of saliva between you two before she’s grasping the back of your head and shoving you toward her chest.

she doesn’t need to say the command a second time for you to know what she wants; you part your lips and latch yourself onto her, sucking as much of her breast into your mouth as you can and running your tongue over and around her nipple.

a deep moan leaves her, reverberating through her chest and against your face. she snakes one arm around your waist and pulls you as close as she can, to the point where you feel like you’re going to be suffocated by her breasts. she ruts against you mercilessly, drawing low whines out of the back of your throat.

“fuck,” she groans breathily, scratching lightly at your scalp as you continue sucking. “you make the sweetest sounds, maus.” her hand untangles itself from your hair and suddenly she’s kneading and pinching at your chest, escalating your whimpers into soft, fast moans. “sing for me, hm?”

you keen loudly, and the sultry laugh she lets out in response is almost enough to tip you over the edge on its own.

after a particularly harsh suck that’s more teeth than lips and tongue, kaiser hisses and bucks her hips once, before a string of moans spill out of her mouth as she erratically spasms against your thigh. her hand flies up to the back of your head and she grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls as she rides out her high.

with one last groan that peters out into a huff of air, she slackens her hold on your hair and waist, coaxing you off of her breast and allowing you to rest against the headboard. you feel your face flush when you see the angry red, already purpling marks left all over her breasts.

kaiser chuckles, running her fingers along them. “hungry little thing, aren’t you?” she teases. she lifts herself off your thigh, and you get even hotter at the stickiness that momentarily stays suspended in the air between her cunt and your thigh as she does.

she grabs one of the pillows from the other side of the bed and slips it beneath your hips. your breath hitches when she trails her fingers along the inside of your thighs before grabbing them and pulling them apart. you begin to tremble again as she lowers herself between your legs, leering up at you from beneath lidded eyelids as she does.

“it’s only fair if i eat, too, right?”

you gulp as she presses a kiss to your clit. your whole body jolts with a mewl when she parts them and sucks the bud into her mouth, the pressure sending shocks up your spine.

“ka—” you break off into a moan as she slips two fingers into you and sets that ruthless pace from earlier, the pleasure mounting into something that is entirely too much, too fast. “kaiser—”

she pops off your clit suddenly, her hot breath teasing the abused area. “michelle,” she corrects. “say it.”

“michelle,” you whine. “please.”

“please, what?” she takes her fingers out of you and begins rubbing her thumb in slow circles over your clit. “use your words.”

“please,” you say, nearly a hiccup. “please make me come.”

she hums in approval, cooing, “well, since you asked so nicely.”

she increases the pressure she rubs into your clit, and any confusion over her finger placement is immediately cleared up when something else enters your hole. you squeal in surprise as she slithers her tongue into you, moving it into your gummy walls as far as she can and swirling it around. your stomach and chest heave as you moan her name out in loud pleas, your hand coming down to stroke her hair as you involuntarily jolt your hips up against her face.

you’re close, so close—walls fluttering and the pitch of your voice crescendoing into high-pitched whimpers—when she suddenly pulls away from you.

“michelle?” you whine in confusion. she smirks at you as she tilts her head to the side, resting it against your thigh. your leg twitches involuntarily as she traces a tantalizing finger up and down your clit.

she calls your name, the syllables of it dripping off her tongue like honey. “it’s almost the end of the semester, you know. will you forget about me once this class is over?”

as if you can forget her after everything she’s done to you this afternoon. “i won’t,” you whisper.

she sighs, all faux sorrow. “but how do i know that? after all, you were trying so hard to get rid of me earlier.” you hiccup as another finger begins teasing your entrance. it distracts you from the harsh edge her voice takes when she asks, “you’ll just toss me to the curb like trash like everyone else does once you’re satisfied, won’t you?”

“no,” you whine. “don’t wanna.”

michelle takes in your needy expression with dark eyes. “don’t wanna what?”

“don’t wanna with anyone else,” you say, too dazed to try and stop yourself. “only you.”

the teasing movements suddenly stop, causing you to whine. she ignores it as she asks, “do you mean that, maus?”

that snaps you back to reality enough to give a better response. “i wouldn’t be doing this with just anyone,” you say, averting your eyes to the floral patterned bedsheets. you blush as you admit, “you’re my first because i wanted you to be.”

after a long moment of silence, she calls for you again. “look at me.”

you feel your breath hitch as you meet her eyes again. she’s always intense, but her gaze is sharper than you’ve ever seen, downright predatory and something else that you can’t quite place.

she licks a slow, agonizing strip up your folds before she says, “i’m going to make you come, then you’re going to be mine, got it?” she kisses your cunt again. “no one else is ever going to see you like this.”

before you can respond, she’s shoving her tongue back into your hole, fucking into you with a ferocity that wasn’t there all afternoon. her fingers expertly pinch and prod at your clit, rapidly working you back up to the point you were at when she stopped.

“michelle,” you cry out, “‘m gonna— ah—”

she moans into your pussy and gives one harsh pinch to your clit. with one last jolt, you throw your head back and devolve into a mess of whines and spasms as michelle works you through your orgasm.

you’re so out of it that you don’t even realize she’s pulled away from the space between your legs until she’s settling herself on top of you, straddling your waist. she takes a moment to admire your fucked-out expression before bringing her thumb to your lips and forcing them apart.

she presses her lips to yours, and you whimper as she shoves her tongue into your mouth, still coated in your come. after spitting and transferring most of it into your mouth, she pulls away, guiding your lips shut with her fingers.

“swallow,” she orders. she’s so close, her blue eyes taking up your entire vision as you gulp down what she’s given you, what she’s fed you so tenderly.

after watching your throat bob, she presses another kiss to your lips, surprisingly soft.

she pulls your head to rest against her chest, running her fingers through her hair. “so good for me,” she whispers. “you’ll stay right here, hm?”

you hum in agreement as your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion beginning to weigh down on you.

“good.” the feeling of her lips brushing against your ear has your eyes flying open again, your heart rate quickening.

“because i’m just getting started with you.”

[fayelero]

ⓘ 03. BUT IM A CREEP !

⤷ ANGST ﹫ michael kaiser x fem!reader ﹫ i think i want you guys to cry those days lol srry

⚠︎ heavy angst, past childhood abuse, self harm (kaiser), mental health struggles, PTSD, anger issues, toxic masculinity, mention of physical violence (not towards reader!), gosh I love psychology .ᐟ.ᐟ

You always knew what you were getting into with Michael Kaiser.

You didn’t fall for the persona the world adored—the golden boy with a god complex and a smirk that could slice through steel. No, you fell for the cracks in him. The trembling underneath the arrogance. The moments when he couldn’t meet your eyes because if he did, he was afraid you’d see the rotting guilt, the fear, the hollow grief underneath the diamonds.

You loved him because you saw it.

And you stayed, even when no one else would’ve dared to.

𓍯𓂃

Kaiser was violent.

Not in the way people expected—not loud fists or barroom brawls (though that had happened before), but in something more insidious. Sometimes it was in the way his voice would shift, low and sharp, cutting through you like glass. Sometimes it was the way his jaw would clench until it looked like his bones might crack from holding back what he really wanted to do.

You were good at psychology. Not just the study—the heart of it. You knew what trauma looked like when it grew up and tried to wear confidence like armor. You recognized the signs when a person had been taught that vulnerability equaled punishment. You understood that violence, especially his, wasn’t power. It was a defense mechanism—a scream in a language only pain could speak.

And Michael had been screaming his whole life.

You saw him for what he truly was: not a monster, but a boy who had never been taught what to do with his rage except to weaponize it. Who had never been held in safety long enough to learn gentleness.

So you never flinched.

Not even when you should have.

𓍯𓂃

There were moments he scared you.

You’d be lying if you said otherwise. There were nights when his eyes turned distant and cold, like he was possessed by ghosts too heavy for his frame. Sometimes he’d snap—at himself, at walls, at you. He’d punch mirrors, scream into the darkness, tear through the apartment with a fire he couldn’t contain.

But he never touched you. Not once. Not even when he was shaking, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms like he could hold back the beast by drawing his own blood.

You knew that mattered more than anything.

He was trying. And every ounce of that restraint was the loudest proof of his love.

𓍯𓂃

The worst night of all came after a loss. A brutal one. The kind that left silence in its wake, not even the fans had the nerve to speak after.

You knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the door.

He was soaked in sweat, but his eyes were hollow. He didn’t speak. Didn’t kiss your forehead like he usually did. He just drifted past you, the ghost of the man you knew, and locked himself in the bathroom.

For a while, you let him be.

But then the sounds started.

Gasps. Slaps. Choking.

You dropped everything.

He was on the floor when you burst in, knees bent, back against the wall like he was hiding from the world—and his hands. His hands were around his own throat.

Strangling himself.

He didn’t even look at you. Didn’t hear you call his name. His eyes were wide, somewhere else, filled with unshed tears. Like he didn’t know where he was. Like he wasn’t even in his body anymore.

And you—god, you ran to him. You dropped to your knees and grabbed at his wrists, crying.

“Michael! Stop! Baby, please—please stop, it’s me! It’s me—look at me!”

You didn’t care that your voice cracked. That you were crying so hard your hands were shaking.

You loved him too much, that’s all.

He didn’t respond right away. His grip tightened. You thought you were going to watch him die in front of you, in your arms, and it terrified you in a way you’d never known.

But then you touched his face.

His real name. That always got through to him. You said it again, whispering it like a prayer.

“Michael. Please…”

And that’s when he finally saw you.

He blinked. Choked on a breath. And then his hands dropped, and he collapsed against you with a sob so deep it shook your bones.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m sorry—I didn’t—fuck, I didn’t mean—”

You just held him. As tight as you could. Rocking him gently like a child.

“No more sorry,” you whispered. “I’m here. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re not alone anymore.”

That was the first time you’ve ever saw him strangling himself.

𓍯𓂃

But he never understood how you ended up with him.

Michael Kaiser—the self-proclaimed emperor, king of the field, and god of ego—had spent his whole life building a fortress around his heart with barbed wire and stained glass. Flashy smiles, golden locks, and a mouth that never shut up unless he was losing—those were his weapons. But beneath it all, he was still just a boy scraping his knuckles on the floor of a cold, silent apartment, wondering why his mother never came back.

You, though. You were something else entirely.

Warm hands, soft eyes, a voice that could soothe the roaring chaos in his mind. You were gentle, but not naive. Sweet, but never fragile. You didn’t love him despite who he was—you loved him as if you saw who he was. And that was the part that made him crumble.

Because he didn’t even know who he was.

Not really.

𓍯𓂃

Kaiser had been alone for so long, he didn’t know what it was like to be wanted—not for fame, not for talent, not for the glimmer of victory, but just for existing. You made him soup when he was sick. Held his face in your hands when he was spiraling after a loss. You listened when he talked about nothing. You never asked him to change. You never walked away, even when he pushed.

He couldn’t understand it.

Why would someone like you want someone like him?

He’d stare at you sometimes, when you were asleep, the sunlight pooling across your skin. Beautiful. Kind. The kind of woman men would write sonnets about if the world hadn’t forgotten how to write them.

And he? He was a bastard in every sense of the word.

𓍯𓂃

Kaiser didn’t talk about his childhood. Not because he was protecting something precious, but because it was like staring into a well with no bottom. His mother left when he was six. She said she was going out to get groceries and never came back. His father stopped speaking not long after that—but the beatings started soon after.

He learned fast that being quiet made him invisible, and being invisible kept him safe.

Until he discovered football.

Football gave him something—a place to exist. Something he could control. He could be anyone on the field. He could be loved there.

Except it wasn’t love, not really. Not the kind you gave him.

The fans didn’t love him—they loved the version of him that scored goals. His teammates didn’t know him—they tolerated him for what he could offer. Even in Blue Lock, everything came at a price: talent, survival, performance. It was all about power, glory, ego.

But you… you brought him soup.

𓍯𓂃

He didn’t deserve it. He was loud, arrogant, cruel when cornered. Sometimes he said things just to hurt, just to feel something, just to remind the world not to get too close. But you never left.

And that scared the hell out of him.

He hated that he needed you. Hated that when you were gone for too long, his chest got tight and his mind went dark. He hated how much he missed you, how he couldn’t focus on the game when he didn’t know if you were okay.

He used to think love was weakness.

But now he saw it for what it was: the only thing in his life that wasn’t transactional.

𓍯𓂃

He didn’t get it. Not fully. Not yet. Maybe he never would.

But every time he woke up with you tangled in the sheets next to him, your breath soft against his chest, he felt something break and heal in the same second.

You were his miracle.

And if he had to spend the rest of his life learning how to be worthy of you… that was a life finally worth living.

𓍯𓂃

You were scared. But you stayed.

He was broken. But he loved.

And together, somehow, you made something whole.

Something messy. Fragile. Raw. But real.

Because you knew him—not the emperor, not the image. Him. And you never looked away.

And that… was the one thing he’d never received before you:

Unconditional love.

[kxsagi]

Omg I love your works so much... One of the best bllk writers in Tumblr 😭😭❤️ I just want a little longer one shots of RIN, KAISER, BAROU and SHIDOU throwing hands (barou and Shidou) or slurs (rin and Kaiser) at the creep who approachs fem reader (their gf) and making us uncomfortable!!! Jdijssisjs I love youuuh

“𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭”

a/n: THANK U SO SO SO MUCH 💓💓💓

also help i lowkey forget which work this was from… 😰

i think it was from the “boyfriends with no chill”...? either way i hope this is still okay as i turned it into a creepy stranger who is eyeing you the wrong way and the boys are not happy about it!

ft. itoshi rin, kaiser michael, barou shoei, shidou ryusei

rin itoshi

you don’t even notice it at first – the way the man’s eyes keep lingering on you as if you’re some sort of prize. he leans in a little too close as you reach for the coffee on the counter, and his breath on your neck sends a chill up your spine. 

“hey, sweetheart, you look lonely. i’ve got a few recommendations for –” 

before you can react, you hear the voice that makes your entire body relax. rin steps in front of you, his posture icy and completely unfazed. 

“you really need to fuck off,” he says with the same calm, unbothered tone he’d use to order a coffee. 

the man looks at him, brow furrowing. “what’s your problem?” 

“oh, you’re my problem.” rin’s eyes turn cold as ice. “you, standing there like you’ve never seen a woman who clearly has no interest in you. you’re not special, dude. you’re just the kind of guy that walks around thinking a smile from a girl means she wants your attention, but really, she’s just trying to get away from your sleazy ass.” 

the guy’s face shifts from confused to defensive. “man, relax. i’m just trying to be friendly.” 

“friendly? you’re creeping her out,” rin says with a fake sympathetic tone. “you’ve been staring at her like she’s an all-you-can-eat buffet, but your brain can’t seem to process the concept of personal space.” 

the guy opens his mouth to say something else, but rin holds up a hand. “no, i’m not done yet. first of all, get over yourself. second of all, when she didn’t make eye contact with you, that was the first sign. when she moved away from you? that was two. and when she kept looking around the room for an escape? three. but you? you’re so dense, you kept going like a damn botched experiment. you don’t get to talk to her like she owes you anything.” 

the creep’s face turns red as he stammers for words. 

“wanna keep going?” rin leans in, his voice low and menacing. “say something stupid, i dare you. i’ll make sure the whole fucking city knows what a degenerate you are.” 

the man backs off in a panic, muttering under his breath. 

“smart choice,” rin says, watching him flee with a wicked grin. “you’re lucky i’m being nice today.” 

you blink, a little stunned. “that was... a lot. that’s probably the most i’ve ever heard you talk.” 

rin shrugs, turning to face you. “you think i’m letting some idiot make you uncomfortable?” 

you can’t help but chuckle. “i wasn’t expecting the roast session, but... thanks.” 

he gives you a dry smile. “if i didn’t take care of it, who would?”

kaiser michael 

you’re in a quiet café when it happens. a man, clearly off his rocker, decides to invade your personal space. you’re just minding your business, reading your book when he sidles up next to you, grinning way too wide. 

“hey there, beautiful,” he says, his voice grating on your nerves. “you know, you’d look a lot better if you smiled more. why don’t you come out with me sometime?” 

you freeze, all sorts of uncomfortable. before you can even think of a way to get away, a voice cuts through the tension like a knife. 

“oh, hell no,” kaiser’s voice is dripping with disdain as he steps up next to you, effortlessly placing his arm around your waist to shield you from the creep. he turns his head toward the man with a smile that’s more dangerous than anything you’ve ever seen. “is this your idea of a pick-up line? really? you must be as dumb as you look.” 

the man stands there blinking, trying to process the situation, and kaiser just keeps going, not missing a beat. 

“look at you, acting all confident with your sketchy ass energy. newsflash! nobody wants you! least of all her,” kaiser scoffs, gesturing toward you. “she’s way out of your league, bro. the fact that you even thought this was a good idea makes me wonder how many brain cells you lost when you fell down the stairs.” 

the guy opens his mouth, probably to say something back, but kaiser cuts him off. “shut it. you’re about as charming as a wet sock in a mud puddle, and i’m done listening to you. the only thing you’ve got going for you is the fact that your face is still intact, and even that’s debatable.” 

the guy’s face turns from confusion to red as a tomato, clearly realizing he’s not going to win this battle. “i –” 

“nope, save it,” kaiser interrupts, voice turning ice cold. “you even think about saying another word, i’ll make sure every single one of your social media accounts is filled with my face. we’ll see how many people you creep on when i’m the one haunting your DMs.” 

you watch as the creep practically runs away, muttering something under his breath. 

“you okay, schatz?” kaiser asks, his tone shifting instantly from cold to concerned. he rubs your arm gently, leaning in to kiss your temple. “that guy was a piece of work.” 

you nod, your heart still racing from the encounter. “i didn’t think you’d verbally assault him that hard... but thank you.” 

he shrugs, his ego back on full display. “what can i say? i like to leave a lasting impression. you’re mine, and no one gets to fuck with what’s mine.”

barou shoei

you’re just walking through the park, enjoying a peaceful afternoon, when the guy shows up. at first, he’s just standing a little too close behind you in line for ice cream, but then he makes his move. 

“hey, girl,” he says, his breath hot on your neck as he leans in way too close. “you’re looking good today. you want to grab a drink later?” 

you instinctively step back, but he’s persistent. “come on, don’t be shy. you know you want to.” 

before you can even react, barou appears out of nowhere, his massive form like a wall between you and the creep. 

“what did you just say?” barou’s voice is low, menacing, and calm, but his fists are already clenched. 

the man glances up at barou, but barou doesn’t wait for him to say anything. he slams his fist straight into the guy’s jaw. the crack of bone makes you wince, and the guy stumbles back, shocked. 

“you think you can just walk up and touch her like she’s yours?” barou growls, grabbing the man by the collar and lifting him off the ground. “she’s mine, you understand?” 

the guy tries to fight back, but barou’s grip tightens. “if i see you near her again, i’ll break your fucking nose. do you think this is a joke?” 

barou slams him back against the wall with a force that makes the guy’s eyes roll back. “next time, i won’t hold back. get lost, now.” 

the creep scrambles away, shaking, and barou turns back to you with a satisfied grunt. 

“you alright?” he asks, his voice oddly soft for how much he just wrecked the guy. he reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “no one touches what’s mine.” 

you nod, too stunned to speak, but your heart is racing from the adrenaline. 

“i wasn’t about to let him get away with that,” barou mutters, still fuming but pulling you into a protective hug, ignoring the whispers of passersby around you. “no one fucks with my girl.”

shidou ryusei

you didn’t even notice the guy at first, you were too busy texting your friend about dinner plans. but then you feel someone too close, and your gut tells you something’s off. you glance up, and sure enough, the creep is practically standing on top of you, a smug grin plastered on his face as he leans over the counter. 

“you’re cute,” he says, voice oily. “i’m sure you’d be even better if you –” 

before you can even think of a response, a blur of pink and rage knocks the man off balance. you blink and, in less than a second, shidou’s got the guy pinned against the wall, fist already cocked back and ready to strike. 

“touch her again, and i’ll break every fucking bone in your body, you piece of shit.” shidou smiles like he's enjoying this, but his voice is low and filled with fury. his body language is pure aggression, his muscles tense and ready to strike. 

the creep’s eyes go wide. “wha – what the fuck, man?! i was just –” 

“oh shut up,” shidou snarls, slamming his fist into the guy’s stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of him. the man gasps for air, but shidou isn’t done. “i don’t care if you were just trying to talk. you keep your unwashed hands to yourself. you ever touch her again, and i’ll make sure you regret it.” 

the creep stumbles back, trying to gather himself, but shidou’s on him before he can take a step. 

“do you even know who you're talking to?” shidou spits, his voice dripping with anger and disbelief. “i’m not here to be nice, buddy. you think you’re slick? you’re not. you’re just another asshole who needs to learn that the world doesn’t revolve around your shitty, entitled ass.” 

you watch as the creep takes a step back, eyes wide and shaking. he doesn’t even bother to protest as he stumbles off into the crowd, disappearing into the night. 

shidou turns to you, his posture relaxing, but his expression still pissed. 

“you good?” he asks, reaching out to pull you into his arms. his tone softens, but there’s still a flicker of that dangerous edge in his eyes. “no one touches my girl. got it?” 

you nod quickly, feeling both terrified and oddly safe in his arms. “yeah, yeah, i’m good.” 

he kisses the top of your head. “good. but next time, let me know sooner if someone’s bothering you. i like to handle things up close.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

seven - m. kaiser

you were seven years old when you first met the piece of trash named michael kaiser.

sitting on the swings alone with a busted violet lip and ripped jeans and scratched up, bloody knees wasn’t considered the ideal invitation for a friendship. but you had mindlessly approached him, sitting on the swing next to him before waving to him.

subhuman garbage looked up, wondering why such a nice girl would be looking at him, talking to him. but he didn’t question it and instead listened to you talk, introducing himself.

“but i don’t like to be called michael, so don’t call me that.”

“got it! you’re mihya then!”

subhuman shit—no, newly named mihya felt his heart skip a beat. no one was ever affectionate enough to give him a nickname, so such an experience made mihya strangely ecstatic. he nodded, a small smile slowly making way onto his swollen lips. “right. im mihya.”

the second time you saw mihya was only a few days later.

he had been sitting on the swings, crying his eyes out. this time he had a nosebleed, angry red marks on his neck, and his hands were nearly purple. you had approached him, your eyebrows knit together.

“mihya? what’s wrong?”

mihya had sniffled before looking up at you. “will you get mad at me…?” he choked out weakly. your jaw dropped, grasping both of his hands.

“mihya, i would never get mad at you!” you exclaimed. “you’re my friend!”

mihya muttered something incoherent before sighing. “…my dad. he gets mad a lot.”

you blinked a few times, your seven year old mind not quite comprehending the situation. but you frowned, looking up at the sky. “oh, i really hate it whenever mama and dad get mad at me. your dad is always mad? that sounds so bad. im so sorry, mihya.”

mihya nodded. “it’s…don’t worry about it.”

one day, after many encounters and at eight years old, you finally spoke your thoughts.

“i think your house is haunted.”

mihya, who had been chewing on garlic and sugar flavored bread from the bakery, stopped mid chew. “why?”

“well, your dad is always mad, and you’re always crying. you’re outside as much as you possibly can, and you don’t wanna be there. that sounds haunted to me. and when you are, you hide from him.” you muttered. “i don’t like that. i don’t like how you’re always crying and hiding.”

mihya hummed, quick to respond. “well, i guess i really got no other choice. i wanna avoid getting hit as much as i can.”

your chest tightened to the point where it hurt, a frown making way onto your face. “i love you, you know that? to the moon and saturn, i really do love you.”

mihya’s heart stopped.

and eight years old, having such a crush probably won’t end good for him. but no one had ever told him that they loved him before, and yet you say it out of nowhere, and to the moon and saturn? he might just die of happiness.

heat spread throughout his cheeks before he squeaked out. “i-i love you…too?” you gave him a toothy grin and gave him a high-five.

at ten years old, you’re on the swings once more, this time with a blue raspberry popsicle in between your lips. mihya has a strawberry flavored one, bought using your money.

“you know, mihya. we should move away forever. or maybe we could be pirates or something. y’know, like from one piece.” you said dreamily.

“that came out of nowhere. why?” mihya replied, tossing his now empty stick into the trash can of the park.

“so that we could get away from your damn father and you won’t have to cry anymore.” you muttered, pouting. “i’ve never even met the guy, and yet i hate him.” you chomped down on the popsicle stick, breaking it in half.

mihya laughed. “yeah? i want to leave too. and it sounds nice to leave with you.”

at fourteen, the news arrived.

you sat on the swings, sobbing into your hands. mihya had come from behind you, his heart aching when he saw your tears. you were the love of his life (you just didn’t know it yet), and your tears hurt him.

“mihya, im moving.”

three words, and yet it wasn’t the usual three words that was like music to mihya’s ears.

he swallowed, tears stinging his own eyes. “to where…?”

“japan. apparently it’s supposed to be a safer environment there or something like that. i have to learn the language and the customs and everything.” you sniffled. “but i don’t want to. i don’t want to leave everything i know. but i mostly don’t want to leave you, mihya.”

mihya wanted to go to your family and interrogate them and to beg them to let you stay. he couldn’t live without you, he wouldn’t be able to survive without the light of his life. you would leave and forget him within a month or two because you have all new friends, and he’ll just be another piece of your forgotten childhood. but you would still be his whole life; you were his first friend, his only real friend.

the only person who he will ever love and the only person who will ever love him.

“right. got it.” mihya replied, his throat dry.

two weeks later, mihya became subhuman piece of shit again.

however, at fifteen, the subhuman was arrested and eventually scouted.

subhuman became kaiser.

at nineteen, kaiser traveled to japan to participate in the still fairly recent blue lock program. although he was interested in blue lock’s new rising player isagi yoichi, he wondered if he could coincidentally see you.

nothing was impossible, after all.

—

for the past five years, you’ve been lonely.

the language barrier was resolved within three years of hard work, but unknown customs and a personality that didn’t match the japanese status quo just made everything worse. for years, you had no friends, you spent lunchtime alone, and worst of all?

you didn’t have mihya in your life.

there were nights when you felt so alone that you would just curl up with your pillow and remember mihya. your mihya. those beautiful seven years spent with him, years that you will never forget.

there was a night where you forgot what he looked like.

panicked and crying, you had opened up your phone immediately too look at a picture of him. after a few minutes of staring, your tears stopped as you memorized his face once more. you never wanted to forget him, not a single bit.

at nineteen and in desperation of college credit and money, you volunteered to be a manager of the blue lock program. ego jinpachi was a strange man, but everything was worth it for the money.

and you couldn’t help but think of your mihya, who you remembered bought a soccer ball for his twelfth birthday and adored it.

for years, you’ve refused to check soccer news out of heartbreak.

after blue lock won against the japanese u20 team, you were given a two week break, and was afterwards immediately shoved into the hell of the neo egoist league.

responsible for helping bastard münchen (“for it’s undeniable potential” said ego, although you really couldn’t care less.), you had walked to the germany wing expecting to have the rest the next few months surrounded by the company of isagi, kurona, yukimiya, hiori, and the others.

and yet when you entered, the first thing you saw was pale blonde hair.

the same that mihya had.

kaiser turned to you, as did the other blue lockers and bastard münchen members.

and finally, kaiser became mihya again.

BASED OFF OF THE TAYLOR SWIFT SONG “seven”

[lacedbykami]

𝐀���𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎— BLUE LOCK BOYS X BLACK!FEM READER (pt.2)

inventory: oliver aiku, micheal kaiser, kunigami rensuke: tooth rotting fluff, cute shit fr, kunigami is my heart <33 a/n: I need to get back into reading the manga I am HELLA behind

OLIVER AIKU.

꣑ৎ 𓂃 does that little tongue in cheek thing when your giving him a lecture (its so hot omfg); like you could be simply yapping talking with your hand on your hip, voice raised—about the differences between being flirty and being disrespectful. and Oliver will just stand there, all 6’2” of him, with that infuriating smirk and his tongue pressed into the side of his cheek. “Are you even listening to me?”

He'll tilt his head, smug as hell. “Mhm. Totally, you're really hot when you're mad, y'know that?" you nearly throw a pillow at him. He catches it. Still smiling.

꣑ৎ 𓂃 purposefully lets water drip down the side of his mouth; will come right in your line of sight too. attention whore. Tilting his head back and chugging like he’s in a damn commercial. The cold water slips past his lips, trails down his throat and drips just slow enough to catch the light. Oliver will then wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, capping the bottle as his tongue darting out to catch the rest — and when he finally glances your way? it’s with a lazy smirk, eyes half-lidded.

“you staring, cutie?” he’s smug. cocky. completely unbothered. “can’t blame you. I’d stare at me too.” and when you roll your eyes, flustered and cussing under your breath, he just laughs — low and warm, before tossing you the bottle. “here. since you seem a little thirsty.”

MICHEAL KAISER.

꣑ৎ 𓂃 the way he runs his fingers through his hair; slow. intentional. almost theatrical. like he knows exactly what it does to you. whether he’s fresh out the shower, steam curling off his bare shoulders, or just scored on the field and flicks the damp strands back with that cocky grin— that unfairly handsome one.

sometimes he'll even catch you looking, eyes locked on his rings dragging through thick blond curls, and smirk real low under his breath. “something on your mind mein liebling?” voice all smug, like he already knows the answer.

꣑ৎ 𓂃 admires you in the midst while your talking; and no I don't mean in the cutesy way. I mean this man will randomly brush a curl out of your eyes and run his thumb arcoss your bottom lip in thought with an unreadable yet dazed expression on his face, like he’s studying you. Not just watching, consuming.

"Keep talking," he’ll murmur lowly, not even fully hearing you—he’s too lost in the way your lips move, the softness of your skin, the little details no one else sees. His brows twitch just slightly, his thumb still at your mouth like he’s committing the curve of it to memory.

Then his voice drops: “You don’t even know how distracting you are.”

And suddenly, whatever you were saying is forgotten—because now his hand’s cradling your jaw, his gaze burning into yours, and his lips are dangerously close. He’s got that look like he wants to sabotage whatever plans you had for the rest of the day… just to hear what kind of sounds you make instead.

KUNIGAMI RUNSUKE.

꣑ৎ 𓂃 pulls your skirts down/ dresses down for you when their showing too much; and not even in a possesive way either. He'll just stand behind you to cover you before leaning down and whispering softly,

“Stand still for a minute, hun,” before fixing your pretty skirt, his large hands gentle as they smooth the fabric back into place.

He'll linger most times, brushing imaginary lint off before glancing over your shoulder with a calm nod, “You're good now honey." You always catch that soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth <3

꣑ৎ 𓂃 whenever you call him, he always no matter what answers with "yes, sweetheart?/hi hun." It got to the point where you wanted to see if he'd ever not answer the phone so sweet like that. So, you started recording him at the beginning of the year every time you picked up the phone, just to see if he'd slip.

But no matter the time, no matter where he was—tired after training, out grabbing groceries, mid-conversation with teammates, even whispering in the locker room with the worst reception imaginable—it was always: "Hi, sweetheart.""Yes, my love?""What’s up, pretty?"

One time Kuni had just finished a match, breathless, sweaty, fans screaming in the background—you could hear the chaos behind him—and all he said when he picked up was: "Hold on, give me a sec—my wife is on the phone."

[blondieeu]

adorn. barou s.

despite popular beliefs about the mans preferred position in bed, the first time you have sex with barou shouei, he lets you do whatever you want to him.

"fuck"

he forced the word out through clenched teeth as he watched your head bob up and down around his cock. big doe eyes looking up at his as you kept a hand on the base of his cock, catching the sticky, leftover spit gathered there.

wet squelching noises sounded with every movement you made, of course along with the faint sound of your boyfriends heavy breathing. he was so hot in the moment, he was all sweaty and his face being a bright scarlet.

now barou wasn't really a sensitive person- never have been, never will be. but the sight of you giving open mouthed kisses to the side of his cock was seriously gonna make him go crazy.

"just like that girl"

his voice fought a war against itself trying to hold back the slutty groans that almost made their way out and into the now hot air of his bedroom. you brung your dry hand up to his clothed, sculpted stomach before pushing up the black wife beater he wore to reveal his skin.

barous big hands embedded themselves into the roots of your curly hair, tugging and pulling at it desperately. he thrusted his hips up and into your mouth in a pitiful attempt to somehow go even further into your throat.

your mouth and his cock became sloppier by the minute as you kept sucking at him. you took his cock out of your mouth with a faint popping noise, but kept stroking with a relatively faster pace. a thin string of spit connected your hand and your glossy lips.

"keep milkin it baby"

blondieeu xx

[seravphs]

“You always have to do things the hard way,” Kaiser grunts as he bangs down the door.

Or tries to, anyways. It’s solid metal.

“Never want to take the easy way out even if it kills you. Are you addicted to trouble?”

Yes, obviously.

“Or just stupid?”

“If you keep yelling at me,” you tell him calmly, belied by enormous eyes with eclipsed pupils, “I’m going to start a fire with my lighter and suck all the air out from this room and then we’ll both die.“

A pause in the conversation from both of you. Feeling suddenly awkward and unfinished, you stick your tongue out at him. “So there.”

Immediately, you regret it. It was an idea meant to be ironic, but perhaps Kaiser read it as post ironic - does it look childish? Anyway, you don’t care what he thinks, you-

He laughs at you outright.

“You’re so dramatic,” he scoffs. “And anyway, you’re proving my point. Killing us both because you got us stuck in the storage closet? Way to say ‘you’re right, Kaiser, I’d rather cause catastrophic damage than admit I’m wrong.’”

“Says you,” you snap back. “There’s no way you, of all people, are going to call me dramatic. And move-“ you punctuate this by shoving him aside. “You’re going to break your shoulder against that door, dumbass. All of you footballers have muscles for brains. Obviously it’s not going to work if it hasn’t worked for the past minute.”

“So what do you suggest,” Kaiser drawls, now leaning back against the wall. His posture is still perfect; his pose suggests haughty grace and elegance. He looks down his nose at you, his eyes narrowed with cunning. “Miss perfect?”

“I-“ You swallow hard. You actually didn’t think this far ahead.

“I mean, you’re the one who got me in this mess.” He’s walking closer. He’s walking closer and this room is literally closet sized and there’s no space for you to back up and-

Kaiser smells so, so good. Like winter air and freezing waters. More of an illustrated impression than a combination of particular notes, it reminds you of the family vacation you took to Alaska years ago. You were a child and you’d wandered outside. Everyone thought you were going to die - your mother cried when you were found - but you don’t remember that.

You remember sitting on a snowbank with your head craned back, watching the aurora borealis dance above you. The landscape was only beautiful because it was so severe, the wind whipping heat into your cheeks, the snow melting in your eyelashes.

Kaiser smells like that memory, like finding comfort in the ice.

He has you pressed up against the wall now. His scent surrounds you. You’re so close that you can imagine the heat of his body through his jersey; your front feels warmer than your back, pressed against the cold steel of the closet.

You can’t look up. Can’t meet him in the eyes. There’s a horrifying thrill in you, some kind of instinct telling you something terrible will happen. You’ll turn to stone or he’ll ensorcel you or -

“Hey.” His fingers slip under your chin and force your gaze to his. “Pay attention to me. No way I’m going to let you lock me in a closet and ignore me.”

“I know,” he smiles like it’s just dawned on him. You know damn well it hasn’t. “Why don’t you make it up to me, hm?”

[what-is-wrong-with-everyone]

Sleeping HC

Kaiser looks like the type of bf who, during the night when you shift and lay on your stomach would lay on you and slide his hand or hands inside your shirt to hold your boobs. Like not even as something sexual, just because (tbh can't blame him), he likes holding them and squeezing gently as a stress relief (small or big doesn't matter, all boobs are great).