#slight mention of michael kaiser

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽

VERSION IV.

(a/n: Hey everybody! Really sorry for not updating this week's been VERY hectic, but im back and ready to post new eps again 🙏 thanxx for your support ❤️)

WARNING!-none

wc: 1.1 k words

ALSO: tags-@ttheggrimrreaper ❤️ bear with me, ur episode is coming i swear

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…11, Isagi Yoichi."

The icon of an unknown person appeared on the screens. Looking closely, you tried to recall if you had ever heard of him during your training, before realising you didn’t interact with the male species for months so you definitely can’t remember the boy.

‘Maybe someone mentioned him a few weeks ago?’

Heading to the assigned room and getting there, Anri immediately gave you a bunch of stuff while telling you about some of Ego’s newly adapted annoying habits. Minutes later, she finished her complaining and let you go you to find your new player.

Imagine being the manager of Isagi Yoichi, the heart of Blue Lock.

——————

Isagi Yoichi, with whom you immediately click moments after you first meet him, the conversations going surprisingly smooth. His attentive and kind nature made you much more talkative than usual, feeling lucky that you somehow managed to get a normal boy. The nightmares that tortured you for the past week, anxious about who you were gonna end up with were also nowhere to be found. Between the breaks of practice matches, Yoichi would always come to the benches, eager to continue your little chat from earlier, seemingly taking genuine interest in you. And when he had to go back to the field, you simply watched him in silence while quickly reading through his data sheet.

——————

•Isagi, who you notice that literally every day, during all the matches tends to think and analyze a lot, which surprised you a bit, didn’t expecting to get someone who actually thinks before he acts.

•In the first few days he would mostly keep his thoughts to himself and although he does share some of them regarding soccer with you, he still remains a mystery.

•Isagi, who has been really curious about you from the start, and because of that you two talked a lot. From telling him how you ended up in Blue Lock, to him being silly and secretly imitating some of his teammates for fun. He also shared his own goals and how he hoped to be a good player, so you wouldn’t have to deal with all his shit in the future.

•He's also the one who's been holding whichever team he’s been part of together since the beginning and has slowly but surely earned a reputation within the facility. That wasn’t the problem, but rather the fact that your player was known for his harsh words and slurs towards his opponents and for being a completely different person on the pitch instead of the usual respectful guy, making you worry a little.

•The cherry on top however is that he somehow always manages to piss off the biggest, most skilled, clearly not in the mood to be insulted type of players.

•Dealing with this is probably the hardest part of being his manager. Apart from that, you have a pretty normal, simple routine, compared to the others, because well…you don't have to do much other than the standard work schedule, since Isagi is just easy to deal with. He doesn’t break the rules, eats what he’s given and always gets up on time.

•This is usually how your days go until the unexpected U20 match announcement comes, which makes the boy much, much more motivated making you basically fight to be able to keep up with him. Your tasks suddenly also multiply, having to give more detailed reports to the boss, monitoring Yoichi’s food portions and supliments way too carefully all while trying to help him achieve the perfect built for the upcoming match, hoping he gets selected.

•Your secret stash of snacks that you keep hidden in your room specially for him is also prohibited to touch, knowing damn well if Ego or Anri notices the few more calories on his data list both of you will be punished.

“So no more sneaky sweets?”-he asked one night, to which you just nodded regretfully.

“Nooooooooo…”

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Isagi changes. A lot. You would say he has improved and currently still is at a frighteningly fast pace. From the very first match he plays with his ‘new’ team to way he thinks and acts is different. This probably earned him one of the best players title as of now.

•He recently also began to follow a stricter training plan, and although the few chocolate bars you secretly try to give him are reeeeaally tempting, he always rejects them, saying that when he feels like he deserves one, he will accept it, resulting in you having to eat all of them alone before they expire.

•Changing places, didn’t necessarily mean new teammates. Yet, the people in Blue Lock he was the closest with all chose different countries, only some of them going on the same path as Yoichi.

•Fortunately, he had no problem finding new and old friends to hang out with, so you thought at least you didn’t have to worry about that. Wrong. You should have.

•Because although Isagi may have gotten along with the Japanese players, the Germans were different. First you thought, maybe it was because of his duality while playing, but it seemed like his mere existence was a problem for specifically 2 German people. They were extremely bothered by him, the murderous look in their eye every time, made you try to keep your player away from them as much as possible.

•Isagi changing meant your nightly routine had to be adjusted as well. Instead of an hour, you now sat with him in front of the big monitors for 2, carefully analyzing his movements every second, papers full of notes and comments to discuss later.

•He also gained immense popularity all over the world with his goal against the U20 that day, receiving comments and praises from fans on a daily basis with them saying how humble and good he is. Yet, despite all this, for some reason he’s need to get a compliment or praise only from you, rises drastically.

•“I’m with you all day, you know me best. I’m just simply curious about your opinion!”

•He, with whom you focus quite a bit on learning the basics of the German language, yet somehow the pronunciation, even the rules have no place in the boy’s puzzle anymore. Still, he tries hard because talking to Bastard München fans and mocking Michael Kaiser in his own native language seems so tempting.

•Over time, you guys became much closer to each other, and even though he has thought about asking you out on a date, he still doesn’t do it because he’s afraid that if things don’t go well, you’ll quit and he simply wouldn’t risk it. You’re the best manager and if necessary, he will continue to try and see you as a friend, as long as you’ll be by his side until the end of his journey.

[neeeooon]

HII HELLOO HI HI HI HOW ARE YOUUUU

CAN WE GET LIKE PART 2 FOR BLLK BOYS FINDING OUT ABOUT THEIR KID, LIKE AS I. CONTINUATION WHAT HAPPENS AFTER MEETING THE KIDDO

YESSS i added the boys u guys voted for most!! (reo has his own oneshot here!!)

when they find out they have a kid, cont.

ex-husband!bllk x fem!reader. angst, (most get) happy-ish endings! chigiri, shidou, and rin’s kids have names

itoshi sae

-> the three of you sat at the table, you and your son on one side and your ex-husband on the other. your son was wiggling around in excitement, eager to jump on and hug his father, but you’d warned him against it. you knew how sae felt about touch and didn’t want him to be even more uncomfortable around his son

-> “does he have to use the restroom?” sae asked when he noticed your son’s restlessness. you shot him a glare. “he’s not a dog. he’s excited to meet you, that’s all.” “oh.”

-> if the comment made your son feel any sort of way, he didn’t show it. “are you really the soccer player from tv?!” sae looked at you before nodding once. it set your son off again, causing him to tug on your sleeve in excitement. “see, mama, see! i told you it’s him! i told you he’s my daddy!”

-> you opened your mouth to explain that it wasn’t that simple, but your son continued as he danced around the kitchen. “and he’s here, which means you’re getting back together!” “huh?!” “and i’ve always wanted a little brother or sister!” “okay, calm down.”

-> you wanted to give your son some alone time with his dad, but it was clear that sae was getting overwhelmed by the hyperactive child. it was strange how his son reminded him more of his brother than himself from when they were young

-> after putting your son down for a nap, you retook your spot across from sae, who was staring very intensely at his clasped hands. you felt a pang of… something as you watched him, and your voice came out extremely soft as you asked, “how are you feeling, sae?”

-> he struggling to meet your eyes right away, but when he did you could see unshed emotion in them. “i don’t… know what to do. he’s mine. my kid. i have a kid. my parents are grandparents. my brother’s an uncle. and i had no idea.”

-> “you didn’t exactly give me the chance after you left me, after you told me how much you regretted us. me. but he’s here now, and he wants you to be his father, so let’s not play the blame game.” sae seemed a bit taken aback by your harsh tone, completely contradicting how quiet you were a moment ago. “you’re right. i’m sorry.” “don’t be sorry. be here. be his dad.”

-> sae couldn’t stay in town long, but he promised your son that he’d visit as soon as he was available. there wasn’t a smile on his stoic face, but when your son ran forward and hugged his legs, telling sae he loved him, sae patted the boy’s head and said, “i’ll see you soon.”

michael kaiser

-> your daughter happily ate her choco bears, unaware of the tension at the table. you sat across from kaiser, who was picking at the skin around his fingers to the point where if you didn’t mention it, you thought he’d start bleeding

-> you don’t know what compelled you to reach over and cover his hand with yours, but kaiser looked as surprised as you did. stammering for some sort of explanation, you gave up and went to pull your hand back until he grabbed it. neither of you said anything as you turned your attention back to your daughter

-> she raised a quizzical brow at her dad. “you look old.” you choked on a laugh as kaiser choked on air. “i’m not—! okay. how old are you, again?” your daughter humphed and admired one of her choco bears. “mama said i’m not supposed to give my age to strange men.”

-> you thought the comment would offend your ex, but he only scoffed. there was a slight, amused grin tugging at his lips. “well, your mama is right.” at the sudden softness of his voice, your daughter sank down into her chair and avoided his eyes. “… you’re my papa, aren’t you?”

-> kaiser swallowed hard. “yes.” “why didn’t you come to my birthday, then?” your heart broke, and the way kaiser’s fingers tightened around your hand showed you that his did as well. “i didn’t, um… i’ll be there for your next one, if you’ll have me.” “will you bring me more choco bears?” “all the choco bears you could ever dream for.” that wins her over. “okay!”

-> she lost interest in the conversation after that and tuned you out while she played a game on your phone. though she wasn’t paying attention, you kept your voice low as you leaned closer to your ex-husband

-> “i’m sorry for never texting. it was wrong of me to keep her from you.” kaiser squeezed your hand in return, trying to show you an ounce of comfort. “it’s not okay, but it’s the past. we can’t change the past, we can only… move on.” the kaiser you knew would never say something like that, and it left you reeling

-> “i want to be in her life, y/n.” “i want that, too. i want us to start over, micha. can we try? as her parents? as friends?” his smile is pained, but his voice is determined. “yes.”

isagi yoichi

-> thankfully, isagi didn’t fight you anymore that day and went home. you got his number from bachira, texting him a time and date to officially meet his daughter

-> “mama, what if he doesn’t like me?” after you told your daughter what was happening, her smile faded into a pout. you quickly hugged her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “no, baby, don’t think like that. he won’t hate you!” “but what if—“ “if he hurts your feelings, uncle bachira and i will hurt his much worse.” you made a silly face to make her laugh and tickled her side before sending her to bed

-> isagi was prepared when he arrived at your house the next morning with breakfast and flowers. peeking around your legs, your daughter gasped at the sight of the sweet pastries. she was on the shyer side, so while you could tell she wanted to grab them and run to share with her ‘uncle,’ she wouldn’t move unless given the go-ahead

-> you took the items from isagi’s hands and offered him a polite smile. “thank you.” as you reached for the flowers, you handed the box of pastries to your daughter and scoffed when she darted into the kitchen with her goodies

-> isagi awkwardly rubbed his nape, still standing in the doorway. “i want to apologize for how i acted yesterday. i was shocked and angry and i took it out on you.” you shook your head and stepped aside for him to enter. “i… understand. why you were angry, i mean. that doesn’t mean i appreciate getting yelled at, but i know that if i was in your position, i’d be upset, too.”

-> “then why not tell me? why keep her from me all these years? i would have loved being a dad, y/n.” something in his voice caught, and the sound felt like driving a knife through your chest. “i know things got all fucked once we got married, but you were my best friend first. i should have checked in on you. i should have paid closer attention. i should have at least sent a text, making sure you were alright.” “yoichi—“i’m not saying it’s all my fault, and i’m still pretty pissed at you for keeping this from me, but i made mistakes, too.”

-> brushing off the silence that fell between you, you put your differences aside and beckoned isagi into the kitchen, where your daughter was drooling over a chocolate croissant. “you can eat if you’re hungry,” isagi offered with a smile, and your daughter didn’t need to be told twice before devouring the pastry

-> “are you really my dad?” isagi choked on his muffin. “um, yeah..” “okay. are you gonna live here now?” “sweetheart—“ “i work a lot,” isagi began with a gentle look. “but if your mom lets me, i’d love to be around more. maybe take you to or pick you up from school.”

-> your daughter loves school, so the fact that he mentioned it all on his own made her eyes sparkle. “really?! and we can go to the park after!” “if that’s what you want—“ “and eat more yummy pastries!” isagi was laughing now. “okay, and eat more pastries. that sounds like a plan.”

shidou ryusei

-> “this is miss poofikins!” your daughter said as she shoved a teddy bear with a tutu into shidou’s arms. “and this is princess buttersquash!” a yellow unicorn. “and that’s fred!” fred was a green monster plushie that you actually got from a pet store, she loved it too much to let you leave without it

-> shidou, slightly overwhelmed, graciously accepted the toys and held them close to make sure none of them fell on the floor. “wow, sachi. i’m so jealous!” your daughter beamed and ran off to grab more from her collection, leaving you alone again with your ex-husband

-> “listen,” you began slowly. “you don’t have to stay. you can walk away now if this is too much. i can handle her on my own—“ “don’t.” you waited for him to continue. “she’s… y/n, i want to be apart of her life. of both your lives. i wasn’t talking out of my ass when i said i’ve changed since we were married.” “… i know.”

-> still holding all three plushies with his arms and chest, shidou reached out and grasped your hand. “i’m serious, y/n. i want this, more than anything. fuck, more that soccer, i think.” you didn’t know why, but your eyes began to ache with incoming tears. “ryu…”

-> his arms were around you before the first tears fall. you laughed when sachi’s plushies pressed between your bodies, but slowly hugged him back regardless. “i’m so sorry, ryusei. i’m so sorry for keeping her from you. for believing that, that,” you couldn’t think of a word insulting enough to describe all you felt for your mother, so you settled with, “bitch.”

-> his laugh rumbled through your body. “whatever. let’s not waste anymore time. i’m here now, i’m all in, if you’ll let me be.” “i will. i want you here with us. with me. i can’t… i don’t want to do this alone anymore.”

-> you felt his lips against your temple, and though there was nothing romantic about the kiss, it made you feel warm inside. “let’s go check on our girl, alright?” you hummed and squeezed shidou once more before letting go. “yeah.”

chigiri hyoma

-> “so…” “so.” “… why is your hair so long?” “😐”

-> you can’t help but snicker at the conversation going on between your son and his father. despite his young age, hikari has a large personality, and you can tell chigiri sees himself before the injury in him

-> “so you, like, play soccer?” “why do you talk like you’re twelve? you’re only six.” “yeah, six inches deep in your—“ “hikari! you really need to stop hanging out with those fifth graders.”

-> despite himself, chigiri laughs. “do you even know what that means, kid?” “…” you rub the ache from your forehead and sigh. “well, i’m at a loss. where do you boys wanna go from here? we fighting for custody, or will this be civil?”

-> chigiri shoots hikari a look before blinking at you. “um, is he allowed to hear this?” “he’ll find out eventually, might as well get his say.” “but he’s six.” “six inch—“ you cover his mouth with your palm. “are you gonna come around, or am i doing this alone?”

-> your bluntness surprises your ex-husband. “i’m in this.” “good,” you nod, posture slouching. “‘cause i am so tired, hyoma.”

-> it’s getting late, so you excuse yourself to tuck your son into bed before you can return to your conversation with your ex. “mom?” “yes, hun?” “do i have to change my name to chigiri hikari? cause that sounds dumb..” you chuckle and give him a kiss on the forehead. “no, you don’t have to change your name. tell me, though… how do you feel about having him around more?”

-> hikari doesn’t hesitate. “well, he’s fun to make fun of, and he’s my dad, right? he should be around… and you won’t be lonely when i’m not here if he’s around.” “oh, honey, don’t worry about me. all i want is for you to be safe and happy, okay?” “okay. g’night.”

-> you find chigiri exactly where you left him. “i have a spare bedroom, if you’d like to stay. i don’t know what your situation is like right now, but if you want to stay and help raise your son, rent is due on the 11th.” “rent?” “mhm! i pushed him out of me and have been providing for six years. you can pay rent.” “… i’ll have your check ready in the morning.”

BONUS! itoshi rin (i had a few reqs for him :p)

-> “will you come play more tomorrow?” your daughter asked. rin’s soft smile fell, but only for a second. “i actually have to fly back to work tomorrow.” “oh..” “but how about this weekend?” she lit up. “really?!”

-> you smiled as you watched the two interact. they’d gotten so comfortable with each other so quick, and your daughter even asked rin to hold her when her legs got tired from standing

-> you weren’t surprised when you checked on them after cleaning up to find emi fast asleep in her dad’s arms. the sight made you want to cry, and you were overcome by a wave of guilt that left tears in your eyes

-> when rin noticed your presence, he gave a small finger-wave, trying not to move too much with the six-year-old in his arms. “hey,” he whispered when you moved to sit on the floor beside his legs

-> “how was it today?” you asked him, fingers toying with the end of your daughter’s navy blue dress. he hummed. “good. she’s a great kid, y/n. you did good.”

-> your exhale was shaky as you dropped your face into your hand. “i feel so awful, rin. how did this happen to us? i should have been the bigger person, not for me, but for her. she didn’t deserve to lose all these years with you just because i wasn’t brave enough to reach out and—“

-> the feel of rin’s fingers grazing your jaw shut you up. his eyes are intense and glimmering as he stares down at you. “don’t. there’s no point anymore. i’m here now, that’s what matters. that and her.” you nod and sink into his touch. “that and her.”

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i grew up into something good

( michael kaiser x fem! reader )

♡ a/n —  for my childhood friends to lovers series! ( please note: i read back through the manga and scoured the internet and couldn't find definite ages on kaiser's past- so i may have got it wrong !)

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — michael kaiser x reader, fem! reader, TW! mentions of abuse ( both kaiser and reader ), SPOILERS! for kaiser's past, nickname 'liebe' used once, goes from ages 8 to 19, slight angst?, slight fluff, childhood friends to lovers

♡ synopsis — you were michael kaiser's god given solace, but were you enough to make him stay?

Snowflakes swirled in the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, the cold gnawing at your exposed skin like a starving animal.

The bruises on your arms and legs throbbed, but they weren’t new. Pain had become as familiar to you as breathing, as inevitable as the cycle of being dragged down and getting back up again.

You walked through the slush-covered pavement barefoot, having been thrown out before you could grab your shoes. Your fingers curled into the sleeves of your too-thin sweater, trying to keep the warmth in, but it was no use.

The winter night bit into your bones, and your body trembled from more than just the cold.

And then you saw him.

A boy, barely eight years old, sitting alone on the rusted swings of the abandoned park down the street.

His lip was split, a bruise already darkening along his cheekbone, and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of a jacket too thin to fight off the winter wind.

His breath came in short, shallow puffs, and even from a distance, you could see the glint of unshed tears in his bright blue eyes.

For a long moment, you just stood there, watching. Because you knew.

You knew what he felt. The sting of rejection, the loneliness that pressed against your ribs like a crushing weight.

The pain of being born into a world that decided you were unwanted before you even had a chance to prove otherwise.

And somehow, he knew too.

“…Hey.” His voice cracked from the cold as you stepped closer, his head tilting slightly. His eyes flickered over your bruises, the red marks on your skin, the way you hugged yourself like you were trying to disappear.

Without a word, you sat on the swing next to him. The chains creaked under your weight, a sharp sound in the silence.

He didn’t ask where you came from. You didn’t ask why he was here.

You simply existed together. Two broken children, sitting in the dead of winter, finding warmth in each other’s presence.

That was the first night you met Michael Kaiser.

And from that night on, you were never apart.

At thirteen, the weight of your shared existence became heavier.

You had each other—that was all that mattered. In a world that had discarded you, the two of you had carved out a place where you could just be. Where the bruises didn’t matter, where the cruel words faded into nothing.

But the world was relentless.

You still had to go to school, while Kaiser roamed the streets, making money however he could, playing soccer like his life depended on it—because, in some ways, it did.

He lived without structure, without rules, without an escape plan. His future was a black void, stretching endlessly in every direction, and you were the only light in it.

“Why don’t you just quit?” he asked one afternoon, sitting on the rooftop of an old apartment building where you sometimes hid out together. A soccer ball sat beside him, spinning idly under his fingers. “School’s a waste of time, anyway.”

“I want to go to university, Micha.”

Something about the certainty in your voice made him pause. You had never sounded like that before—so sure, so determined.

He scoffed, leaning back on his hands. “More school? For what?”

You peeled off your blazer, revealing fresh bruises underneath.

He was the only one you ever let see them.

“I want to be a doctor,” you said simply. “To help people when they’re hurt.”

For the first time in his life, Kaiser felt small.

Because you believed in something. Because you had a dream. And as ridiculous as it was, as impossible as it seemed, he wanted to believe in something too.

It was in that moment that Michael Kaiser realized he loved you.

At fourteen, he kissed you for the first time.

It was his birthday.

To his father, it was just another year spent stuck with a child he never wanted.

To Kaiser, it was another step closer to getting away. One more year survived. One more year closer to freedom—or death. He hadn’t decided which yet.

To you, though, it was the day Michael Kaiser was born into this world. And for that, you were thankful.

You found him at the park, the same place where you had first met, holding a single bread roll with a candle stabbed into it.

You had stolen the candle—and maybe the lighter too—but that didn’t matter.

“What’s that for?” Kaiser asked, amused, as you plopped down next to him.

“I couldn’t find any cake,” you admitted sheepishly. “But you have to make a wish on your birthday. That’s how it works.”

Rolling his eyes, he blew out the candle, and you beamed.

“What’d you wish for?” you asked, voice full of childlike wonder.

Kaiser didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his breath warm against your lips, and kissed you.

It was soft, hesitant, uncertain. The first good thing he had ever been given in his life.

“What was the wish?” you whispered when he pulled away.

He looked at you, eyes burning with something you didn’t yet understand.

“That,” he murmured. “You. For you to be with me forever.”

At fifteen, he left.

Ray Dark came into his life like a promise, like a lifeline, like the devil disguised as salvation. He was everything Kaiser had ever wanted—a ticket out, a future worth something.

“This man is going to change my life,” Kaiser told you, voice filled with something close to hope.

You weren’t dating. Not really. But you had kissed each other more times than you could count, fallen asleep tangled together, breathed the same air as if it was the only thing keeping you alive.

And now, he was leaving.

“What about…” The words died in your throat.

What about me? you wanted to beg for an answer.

“What about what?” he pressed, tilting his head closer.

What about us? your heart screamed.

You swallowed hard. “Never mind.”

He sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Liebe, don’t cry,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be back. I’d never leave you.”

He kissed you then—deeper, more meaningful than ever before. And the next morning, he was gone.

You waited. You waited for years.

At nineteen, you saw him again.

Not in person. On a television screen, in the common area of your dorm.

His hair was different—shorter, the ends dyed electric blue. A tattoo curled around his skin like a brand, like a reminder of who he had become.

He wasn’t the boy you knew anymore. He was Michael Kaiser, the star of Bastard München.

You stood frozen, staring, as the commentator sang his praises. The people around you cheered.

Tears slipped down your cheeks before you even realized they had started.

I’ll be back. I’d never leave you.

But he had.

And maybe you couldn’t even blame him.

Because Michael Kaiser had made it out. And he had left you behind in order to save himself.

And somehow, even after all these years—after all the promises and all the distance—you still weren’t sure whether that was something you could ever forgive.

do i dislike kaiser? sort of. is he still one of my favorite characters to write for? hell yeah.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[retroaria]

hello! if you're not busy, then may i please request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys? in which they become enamored with their interviewers charm. a few specific characters i want are: sae, rin, nagi and kaiser. but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like! you can do this in your free time, no pressure. thank you, and take care!

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i’m so sorry please don’t hate me for how long this took i am NOT a professional :x

⋆˙⟡ interviewer!reader x - rin - nagi - kaiser - ⋆˙⟡

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | •

nagi seishiro ᯓᡣ𐭩

*totally lovestruck*

nagi has always struck me as someone who considers himself to be “out of the league” for most people he finds attractive, so he doesn’t put himself out there and doesn’t really know how. if he was in a situation where he had to interact with someone he genuinely was enamored by, he’d be a mess.

and so he stands there, dopy, clueless, not even looking correctly in the camera and seemingly staring at…you? No, he’s definitely staring at you. his eyes are dull and dim, but they seem to be a little hazed, glossed over with a sheen of fascination. he shakes his head and nods and mumbles, unbeknownst to whatever it is you’ve actually been asking him.

this is not the look nagi ever intended to have when speaking to someone he finds this attractive, but he truly can’t help it. his minds gone blank and he isn’t sure if you’re standing perfectly under a spotlight or if you’re an angel naturally glowing in his presence. his internal dialogue is stuck between cringing at himself and taking mental note of every single feature he can gather with his eyes on you - all over you, i should say.

nagi would be way too excited to actually ask you out (also definitely not after staring you down like a creep), he’d be too afraid of losing his cool. but he would absolutely remember your name and ask around when he has the chance - would ask reo for help with this lol. through some industry path of team managers to stadium staff to news reporters, he eventually finds you again. would 100% stalk you on social media and follow you just to see where that goes .

just like rin, he’d try to be in the right place at the right time and do the right things to get you to strike some sort of non formal conversation with him in the hopes that’ll it’ll create an opening for him to ask you out :x

rin itoshi ᯓᡣ𐭩

*blushes and looks away…*

rin hates interviews. he doesn’t like open ended questions and he hates having a camera shoved in his face. most of the reporters that run up to him on the edge of the field just holler questions and statements at him that can often feel degrading and presumptuous.

when he was stopped just outside the stadium by you and your small crew, you spoke to him with a lack of crassness that he hasn’t been on the receiving end of in ages - so he agrees. his answers remain cold and striking, as they always are, but his demeanor is more loose than usual.

rin initially doesn’t feel anything for you other than respect and gratitude for treating him like a human unlike the other reporters he’s encountered. he was sure to get your name and properly thank you. he’s the type to think about you and hope that you’ll cross paths again. wouldn’t go out of his way to find you, but at every game and every event he scans the crowds in search of your smile that had welcomed him so tenderly before. not to mention your face has popped into his head almost everyday since he first met you and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

when he does see you again he accepts your interview request immediately, bullshits through all the questions, and sticks around a little longer to talk to you. he’s painfully awkward and even more painfully unaware of it, but once you notice the slight blush on his face you can steer him in the right direction lol

michael kaiser ᯓᡣ𐭩

*prince charming*

when you introduced yourself to kaiser in hopes of getting an interview you certainly did not expect the offer to be accepted so enthusiastically. kaiser isn’t necessarily bothered by interviews, but he hates having to think of answers on the spot.

he’d throw out some cheeky lines like “If I smile at the camera can I get a date?” and a classic for him, “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

you’re asking him questions he surely has been asked before, questions he’s probably been trained to answer, but his answers are boastfully and flirtatiously directed at you and you alone. your camera man leaned over and asked if he should just cut all the footage. you entertain him a little more, trying to see if you can get him to break his prince charming act and actually talk about the game he just played.

eventually he lets up and you get the interview done. as you and your crew are about to leave the stadium, he grabs your hand and lifts it up, planting a soft kiss to your knuckles (you think maybe this could be considered assault, but you’ll let it slide for him this one time).

unlike the other two, kaiser doesn’t have a bashful bone in his body in this situation. i’ve always felt that he isn’t as much of a manwhore as everyone thinks he is, which i still stand by!!! but if he sees you and is truly enamored by you he knows how to make his feeling apparent.

[saerins]

°୨୧ NO CONTEST

+ kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, slight hints of jealousy, mentions of alcohol, they go clubbing

notes: help me i think i made myself fall for this guy even more after writing this shit for him > ⤙ <

summary: being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?

SPOTTED: KAISER-KAIA DUO HIT THE STREETS, NEW BUDDING ROMANCE?

“i like you though, y/n.”

it’s spring and the weather outside is the nicest it’s ever been in a while and you have every chance to enjoy it except for the fact that dear michael kaiser is lounging on your couch, rifling through the magazine he got in the mail.

“right, haha, very funny,” you mumble sarcastically, slumping down onto the other couch where kaiser isn’t sprawled all over.

sometimes, you think it’s funny how he’s portrayed as this hot, sexy, confident soccer player who can do no wrong when it comes to matters with his looks, but then in private he’s like… well, this. his bed head’s a mess, his room slippers are the fluffy-fuzzy kind, and much less high maintenance than everyone makes him out to be. (but you have to stop yourself from staring because kaiser doesn’t sleep in anything but his sweatpants during this season and well, where his abs are concerned, he’s definitely got no problems there.)

kaiser sighs in the overdramatic fashion that’s probably his trademark right about now. “y/n, y/n, what do i have to do to make you believe me?” he turns around, smirking at you as he raises a brow. maybe it’ll work on his countless fangirls, but after being friends with him for over six years, you’re probably immune to it.

“maybe you can just shut up and get ready for your event later.” you roll your eyes, sauntering to the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast, automatically making two of everything because kaiser loves to crash your apartment in the morning. (he really does need to learn about personal space.)

breakfast preparations go quietly. kaiser listens to you—he shuts up and starts getting ready for his event before coming back into your apartment, all fresh and ready to shamelessly eat the breakfast you made, staring at you from across the table whenever you’re not looking like he always does.

“kaiser-kaia duo hit the streets, new budding romance?”

“miko, don’t tell me you’re reading that gossip rag too,” you whine, looking for any excuse not to dive into your pile of work for the day.

your colleague swivels her chair over to your cubicle, looking around to make sure your bosses aren’t around to witness the both of you slacking off. “hey, isn’t he your friend? give me the tea! are they really dating?”

leave it to miko to get all excited about dating rumours. you really don’t know what’s so special about them—kaiser’s gotten so many of them ever since, well, forever. even before he became a soccer superstar.

you remember what kaiser said in the morning. “i like you though, y/n.” always ready with that smooth tongue of his. that aside, if he really was dating someone, you bet that they’d be staying over with him more often than not, and there’s really no harm in rejecting a rumor as opposed to confirming one.

“nope, they just happened to be waiting for a cab at the same spot.” and paparazzis love to snap a shot from misleading angles. now that you’re really looking at the article, they managed to make it look like kaiser’s kissing her cheek. you find yourself rolling your eyes at it and looking away.

miko sighs, leaning back against her chair. “man, that sucks, they look cute,” she comments, scrolling away from the online article before she gives you a suspicious side eye. “hey, you sure you’re not dating him?”

you still a little at the sudden line of questioning before turning your attention back to your laptop equally quickly. “if i was, i wouldn’t be so free all the time now, would i?” a response to which miko shrugs off and decides to let go of as she retreats back to her desk.

as much as you love miko as your colleague, you haven’t been as honest with her as you could. she knows you’re friends with kaiser, yeah, but she doesn’t know he’s basically your neighbour. she doesn’t know that he comes over all the time whenever it’s off season. she doesn’t know that the both of you have fallen asleep next to each other on the couch.

she doesn’t know a lot of things—like how your heart’s beating erratically now at the notion of being someone special to kaiser. it’s always been sweet nothings that you thought would stay that way, and you’ve always been short at realising your own feelings, so much so you were, once upon a time, positive you had zero romantic feelings for your friend.

now? you’re not so sure anymore.

seven days pass and kaiser’s been pestering you every single moment you’re free—like he always does—but today’s kind of a special day because it’s your birthday and it’s an hour away from your dinner party yet you’re not even close to ready.

your hair’s wet, you’re still in your loungewear, you have no idea what to wear and kaiser’s just flipping through the channels, half bored to death. for his part, at least, he’s already ready.

it’s not even fair how he takes just half an hour to get ready and yet he looks like he does. hair perfectly soft, and he’s wearing a nice black suit with a wine red dress shirt underneath, his tattoos peeking out here and there. if he wasn’t a soccer player, he’d definitely either be a model or a very charming businessman.

“too handsome for you?” kaiser smirks as he catches you looking, and you have to spin on your heels to avoid getting flustered (to his face).

“shut up, kaiser, i haven’t found anything to wear,” you groan, making a beeline for your bedroom. you really wished your friends hadn’t booked a high-end restaurant for little old you—then you could literally just throw on anything and be done with it.

kaiser, completely comfortable in your apartment, strolls into your bedroom with you and starts browsing through your closet, ignoring your protests. within seconds, he finds a dress and holds it out, a lopsided smile filling his face. “how about this?”

the wine red satin dress hovers in front of you, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you speak, feeling the line getting blurry. “trying to get me to coordinate outfits with you or something?”

you’re trying your best but your voice quivers just a little bit, and you bet that smug smile on his face that he can hear it. “why not? we look good together,” he shrugs, as though it’s no big deal but it’s hard to stop yourself from overthinking when lately the two of you have been flirting more often and serious than usual.

rolling your eyes and trying not to be too late, you grab the dress from him and change into it, spending some time to yourself to recollect, internally cursing him for being able to make you this flustered over nothing at all.

by the time you come back out into the living room, hair all done and accessories settled, this time, kaiser’s the one who’s caught staring, shameless in the way his eyes drag over you from head to toe. you’d tease him for it, but you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for his comeback so you refrain.

as you grab your go-to black heels and sit down to strap them on properly, kaiser’s quick to offer a hand, his lithe fingers taking your heel from you, slowly inserting your feet, his eyes lingering on your face and his thumb rubbing circles around your ankle. your eyes are glued to his own, and somehow it makes you even more nervous when he’s not joking around. when he looks at you like this—serious, like he’s trying to tell you something without saying anything at all.

the way he ties the straps are gentle and precise, tight but not too tight that it’ll hurt you. you’ve jokingly told him to help you tie your shoelaces before but he’s always refused. yet now he’s helping you put on your heels on both feet without saying a word and the way his hand lingers on your calf when he’s done is enough to make you melt.

on some other day, you’d joke with him and get him to let go. today, you’re silent.

kaiser chuckles, though, his hand casually brushing up your calf slightly before he pulls away, gently patting your head as he gets up.

“let’s go.”

dinner is agonising, enjoyable, agonising.

it’s nice; being seated around a table, enjoying small talk and nonsense with the same group of friends, catching up with people like kaiser and ness who’s been away a lot because of their profession.

yeah, that part’s nice. what’s agonising about it all is how close kaiser is to you, how his right hand casually drapes around your shoulder from time to time, shifting down to your thigh sometimes, making you go crazy.

it’s not like the both of you haven’t been close before, but you feel like maybe this time, it’s different. it’s not just the close proximity, it’s the intimacy of it all that has you inwardly keeling over. what’s worse is that you think you want it, him. in a way you didn’t think to think of before.

“you sure you’re not dating him?”

miko’s words ring repeatedly in your head. somehow, your answer’s changed from nope to you sort of wish you did. you bite your lower lip, absentmindedly laughing along even if you didn’t hear the joke at all.

“you okay?” the voice in your ear nearly makes you jump up from your seat.

on your right, ness is grinning as he looks at you, like he knows something’s going on in that little head of yours. you shake your head anyway, but ness shoots you a knowing smile as his eyes briefly shift to kaiser’s arm around you before winking at you.

fuck, is that really enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks?

“y/n?” one of your other friends calls out, snapping you back to the foreground.

“what?”

“next stop: new club downtown! orange, or grape, or whatever the fuck name it is,” he drawls, excited, “you up for it?”

before you even get the chance to agree, one of the other guys speaks up. “hey kaiser, speaking of clubs, didn’t that dating rumour come up recently? the one with, uh, kaia?”

readjusting himself, kaiser pulls away from you, taking a swig of his beer. “don’t remind me,” he groans, sighing.

“why not? she’s hot!”

there’s a knot in your stomach that you can’t explain.

beside you, ness snickers. “tell ‘em what really happened, stupid.”

that manages to pique your interest.

kaiser sighs, resigning because he knows they’ll just keep hounding him if he refuses. “she tried her luck, that’s all,” he settles for something vague, trying to escape.

ness, however, ever the kind soul, expands on his words, making sure you hear every single bit—you’re not sure if he’s trying to egg you on or just see your reaction.

“please, she was trying to get you to send her home, no?” ness’ explanation gets a reaction out of the group, and you’re glad you all have a private room here so no one outside can hear you, servers included.

“shut up.”

“kaia and kaiser—has a nice ring to it.”

and even though kaiser doesn’t entertain that, you feel a little envy brewing inside you—one that you fail to drown out.

orange is filled with people; combining the fact that it’s holiday season and it’s the club’s launch night, it’s safe to say that there’s barely any room to breathe. still, your friends are all drunk on the alcohol, pulling one another to the dance floor, leaving you and kaiser at the table.

he’s still close as ever, his bare hands brushing yours, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you close.

“dance with me,” he raises his voice over the music. the way he smiles so genuinely now managing to make your heart skip a beat.

suppressing your grin, you wordlessly agree, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. he meanders the crowd skilfully, as expected considering he and ness are frequent clubbers. it’s only now that you realise you’d never gone to such a place with him, which is surprising considering your many years of friendship.

as you join your friends on the floor, you can’t help but notice how kaiser sticks to you and you alone, his hands on your waist, trickling up and down your arm, dancing along behind you. even surrounded by people, he commands your attention alone.

unfair.

but to kaiser, it’s unfair too. it’s not fair how you’re so pretty, it’s not fair how you’ve always been. it’s not fair that he’d fallen slowly for you, and now so so deep. how is it fair that even when he tries to forget you, when he tries not to mess with the friendship, that he ends up falling even more?

his eyes stay glued on you, shamelessly making sure no other man gets their hands on you—it’s fucking insulting how they try to get you to dance with them even when he’s right there. lucky for him, you’re not budging. you’re there. with him. only him. even if your other friends are here.

it’s just him and you and he wonders what you’re thinking. are you as flustered as he is right now? kaiser hasn’t even let himself drink more than one mug of beer, all because he knows this is a night he’d rather remember than risk forgetting.

“hey, isn’t that kaia?” one of your friends excitedly points out and kaiser follows his line of sight.

it is her, and she’s heading this way—but that’s not really important because what’s important is how kaiser noticed you’ve stopped dancing, awkwardly trying to shuffle away. it’s kind of funny, he swears he can tell that you might feel the same way about him. maybe you’re just more stubborn than he is.

so he keeps his arms around you, pulling you close.

“stay with me,” he whispers into your ear, and he suppressed a grin from the goosebumps searing across your neck. he guesses it’s a good sign you’re listening to him.

“kaiser, what’s up?” kaia greets, evidently trying to move for a hug but kaiser’s not budging, squeezing you closer instead.

he nods at her in acknowledgement before letting the rest of his friends throng around her for a photo.

once she’s sufficiently busy, he hears you speak up. “were you dancing with her that time too?”

kaiser manages not to snicker at your obviously jealous tone, “yeah, we went with a few other people after our shoot was wrapped up.”

you nod, and all kaiser can think of somehow is that your shampoo smells so nice. “oh, sure you don’t wanna dance with her again tonight then?”

are you testing him? it’s cute.

he shakes his head. “nah, i danced with her a lot that time already,” he teases, though he’s not too sure whether you’d take it like a joke like it was meant to. when you don’t respond, he chuckles, gently turning you to face him. “there’s one thing i didn’t do with her though.”

kaiser’s face is just inches away from yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek and he’s aware that everyone in the close vicinity is looking at the two of you but he doesn’t care.

honestly, he has to admit, he’s dreamed of doing this a thousand times over, always hovering between the decision to ruin this friendship or not. the thoughts were there whenever he’d wake up next to you on the couch. or whenever all of you met up and one of the other guys would throw their arms around you. or in the mornings when you made breakfast. there’s not a time he’s been sure whether this is what you wanted too.

hell, he’s not even sure now. but fuck, if he wastes another minute not trying he thinks he’ll kill himself for it. and he’s hoping to god this isn’t a dream because you’re not pulling away and you’re not treating this like a joke and it can only be because you want this too.

without another thought, his lips press against yours and it’s like the loud music drowns out into the background, getting lost and fading away. suddenly it’s like you’re the only thing in front of him and fuck, you taste even better than he can ever imagine.

“fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pressed against yours. “be mine?”

still breathless from that kiss, you chuckle weakly and nod, both of you earning whoos all around the room. (you make a mental reminder to tell miko before she winds up seeing this online before you get a chance to explain.)

and just like that, kaiser’s finally gotten the girl of his dreams.

“want you, baby, just you.”

the next morning, the two of you make the headlines.

LIPS LOCKED: KAISER & RUMORED GIRLFRIEND SHOW OFF THEIR LOVE

[hellsslibrary]

sub...Michael Kaiser...with male reader...please...I'm begging...

Just saw the latest chapter and him saying "please" made me simultaneously combust.

What if he says that word but on a completely different context, iykwim 👀👀👀👀

"In an ideal relationship, pure love and dirty sex complement each other, not exclude each other."

#a.n. : You can't imagine how much fun it was to write this, different sides of the dominant were fighting inside me, it was wild.

MASTERLIST is here.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Michael, brat taming, humiliation, light strangulation, dry orgasm, you dig Kaiser to the point of half death, reader breaks the bed and unironically fights Alexis for a place in the hotel with Michael by playing tic-tac-toe (mention, I thought it was funny), Kaiser is literally folded in half, one bite to his ankle and a slight mention of blood, three phrases in German (my half-German roots take over), riding.

It was obviously not a revelation to Kaiser why this had started. He had started to understand it the moment you almost fought Ness to share a hotel room with him. After all, you, as adults and completely mentally ill people, played tic-tac-toe and you beat Alexis. After all, he could survive a couple of nights not in a room with Michael, but you? Oh no, you had too big of a plan for him.

He had figured it out himself, as soon as he saw that you were actually focused on winning this stupid game and not playing for fun... But I guess he didn't understand what exactly was waiting for him. Although that's the best part.

"G-gott! Y/n, slow d-down! This is, oh shit, this is too mu-much!" came out unintelligibly from his lips, while he grabbed the sheets beneath him with all his might, his graceful fingers almost tearing apart the poor fabric that was holding on with all its might.

"Are you sure?" you clarify, knowing he won’t answer because he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want to seem too needy.

And so he does. He stays silent, burying his face in the pillows and pushing his ass back a little more to somehow meet your ruthless thrusts that didn’t allow him to breathe properly.

You squeeze his hips, pressing lightly on his stomach under your fingers, causing him to whine loudly, even muffled by the cotton pillowcases. His toned ass jiggles slightly with each thrust, making you want to bite one of his cheeks right now, but oh, what a shame the human body can’t bend like that, huh?

Kaiser felt too good as you admired his ass and his bulging back without any other thought. He felt like his whole being was melting, turning into nothing more than obedient plasticine in your hands, which you could bend as you wish.

He bites his lip to hold back another moan. It seems like he can hear his heartbeat in every part of his body, no matter how unimportant or far from his head. It seems like his blood is so hot that he is about to melt... Not that it is not true, considering how sweaty you both have been for the last few dozen minutes.

"Aren't you going to answer me, handsome? Or do you want me to stop and leave you empty and thirsty, hm?" your whisper sends involuntary goosebumps down his body when he realizes that your chest is rubbing against his back and he makes some kind of sound similar to hiccups, turning his head to the side.

"Shut up."

The phrase made your hips freeze almost immediately, your eyebrow involuntarily crawling up at the fact that he had the strength to speak clearly, and also to act like a complete brat, when you were obviously lifting him to Heaven and back with your actions.

"Move, idiot. Why the hell did you stop?"

Your eye twitched and you took a deep breath, looking down at his frowning, flushed face. There were traces of moisture all over his face from tears and sweat mixed together, his lips were slightly swollen from holding back moans, but most importantly, his eyes. The shine in them. He knew what he was doing, or rather, what he was saying.

Before he could come to his senses, your lips spread into an almost animalistic smile and your cock completely slipped out of him. Kaiser was about to complain, but you abruptly flip him over onto his back, and then immediately, without warning, you penetrate inside.

His next moan was probably heard by everyone in the hotel, or at least on your floor. And all the following ones, too. He was no longer holding back, moaning at the top of his lungs. His hands were looking for something to grab onto and wanted to close around your shoulders, but you would not allow him such luxury, so you squeezed his palms above his head.

"What a pity. If you want to act like a little slut, then I will have to treat you like one," you lean right over his face, sliding out so that only your tip remains inside him, and then penetrate in the roughest way you can.

"Ohhh, ple-please... Ple-please, fuck, s-sir, I b-beg yo-you... P-please!"

He himself did not understand what he was begging for, while you just let out a chuckle from this. Michael could barely form any coherent words, he was just mumbling obvious nonsense now.

Your fingers squeezed the blond's leg at his knee, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder, practically folding him in half. He muttered something unintelligible, tears starting to flow from his closed eyes while his hands clenched into fists helplessly in your grip.

"What? You decided to fix yourself in a couple of seconds, handsome? That's not like you. My dick makes you drunk?" he would never admit that it did, but his head shook in agreement too convulsively.

You bite his ankle, digging into the white skin, causing him to cry out in pain, but he doesn't complain. He just stares excitedly at the small trickle of blood rolling down his leg. Your free hand, not holding his hand, falls on his neck.

And God, something clicks inside him. He cums, but nothing comes out, in that same second, although your hand did not have time to settle down and squeeze properly. You only look at the pathetic state of the German while he experiences a dry orgasm and how his cock twitches.

"What a pity... Although you are a smart boy. Even without realizing anything, you do not dare to cum for real without my permission..." Michael only moans in response, not being able to say anything anymore, especially now that you are blocking part of his air.

"Please, Y-y/n," he manages to mumble somehow, looking at you with empty, smoky eyes, hazed with a haze of lust, and you feel how he squeezes around your cock. Probably on purpose, but now you do not care.

"Please what, baby? You have to speak clearly," he frowns, looking away and staring at some tasteless painting on the wall, trying to pull some kind of speech out of his brain.

"Let me cum... Bitte, mein schatz," Kaiser whines, managing to somehow rise up, although it is clearly uncomfortable and even painful for him, given the position he is in, and kissing the corner of your lips, missing the main target. "Bitte lass mich abspritzen, lass mich auf deinen Schwanz abspritzen..."

You feel something break inside you. He looked beautiful and didn't even seem embarrassed as usual by his obvious vulnerability and the state of some kind of toy in your hands. In the end, he even found the strength to kiss you and didn't even wince at the fact that he literally bent in half for a couple of seconds. Well, how can you not spoil such a boy, right?

His head falls back, he sighs raggedly when you begin to pound him with the maximum speed and roughness you can muster right now. The bed beneath you creaks pitifully, as does Kaiser himself, not expecting such pressure.

"Dann komm, Hübscher," your words send him over the edge immediately, squeezing your cock as if in a vice.

He paints your and his stomach white, cumming surprisingly much. And he doesn't react at all when you continue your thrusts with a same force, only small sighs escaping from his lips.

But then he screams and something cracks under you. You manage to catch him and throw his leg aside carefully but quickly, and press him to your chest.

"You... Managed to break the bed? Wow, new even for you," Michael mutters, watching the mattress and sheets sag in the hole in the bed, chuckling hoarsely and weakly hugging your shoulders now that he has this opportunity.

"I'll ask to change the room and pay for the bed... I don't even want to imagine the face of the girl at the reception, but..." You look up at the blond, who is now sitting on your lap and thoughtfully narrow your gaze.

"Ride you? Good," he understands what is needed, feeling that you have not yet finished and managed to twitch inside him even at such a moment. "You can't be trusted with the pace anymore, you're too wild... Next time we're in hotels, I'll ride you."

"Fair and sweet, I'm more than willing," he starts moving his hips, moaning with every movement, still sensitive from his orgasm, trying not to go too fast so you both don't fall off the bed... Until the broken part of the bed falls to the floor, causing a huge noise, but hey, you're facing the ace of German youth football, who cares? Especially one so rarely vulnerable and caring like this.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🪼˚ house of cards - michael kaiser

includes: michael kaiser x fem! reader. 1k wc.

themes - SUGGESTIVE! forced arranged marriage trope. drabble takes place right before their official engagement. mentions of glass shards (literally in the first sentence). toxic dynamics, family influence, power control, manipulation (its kaiser lmao).

the harsh sound of glass shattering tears through the air and echoes within the trapped walls of your bedroom. your hands tremble, hanging at your sides from the force of the throw, as you watch the vase—an intricate, one-of-a-kind piece adorned with red roses—hit the floor and crumble into a thousand jagged pieces. the once full-bloomed flowers now appear as a bunch of individual thorns and petals.

it had been a handcrafted, impossibly expensive gift chosen by michael kaiser himself to impress your family. a showpiece, much like tonight’s engagement party, and you had chucked it across the room without hesitation—at him.

kaiser stands between you and the wreckage, his presence suffocating yet intoxicatingly magnetic. he doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. he just watches. he doesn’t seem shocked—he never is—but the faint curl of his lip betrays something darker, a flicker of amusement that makes your chest tighten.

“did that help you calm down?”

kaiser’s voice is smooth, unbothered, almost entertained. his eyes flick lazily over the shards of sugar-like fibers before returning to you, unreadable. then, with a slight tilt of his head, he adds, “or are you expecting me to do something about that attitude?”

your fists clench. heat rushes through you and reaches all the way to your ears, pulsing with fury. “how dare you come in here?”

he scoffs, mocking, as he takes his steps forward till he is at arm’s distance. yet when he speaks again, his voice is sickeningly sweet, a carefully crafted melody dripping with false warmth. “how dare i come greet my soon to be fiancé?” he pauses, as if savoring the title, his lips curving into something that isn’t quite a smile. “is that your question?”

your teeth clench, not just from the words but from the way he moves nearer, his presence shifting the air between you. the crunch of glass under his dress shoes; it’s as though he's crossing an invisible line, one you never agreed to. he knows no limits to pursuing his power.

he’s already too close, too steady, and you hate how your body reacts before your mind can catch up. goosebumps trail your arms, but not from fear.

as a reminder of your defiance, your gaze transitions to the shattered vase on the floor—the one your father had beamed over, proud as kaiser handed it to you at dinner. he’d called it a symbol of unity, expecting you to take his hand in marriage, to let him press a lingering kiss against your knuckles as though it meant something more than just a gesture. and when you did, the way kaiser’s eyes had darkened, that slow, satisfied smirk spreading across his lips—he knew. just from that, he knew how far you were willing to go to appease the family you claimed to despise. thinking about it now, your chest tightens, the memory of it burning through you.

“you’re shameless,” you seethe, willing the tremor in your voice to disappear. “haven’t we pretended enough?”

his eyes glint with something unreadable as he leans down to your height, just enough that his breath grazes your cheek. his hand then shoots out, placing itself on the surface of a table behind you, effectively cornering you. you hate the way your body betrays you, the way your skin tingles in anticipation despite the disgust twisting in your gut. he hasn’t even touched you yet, but the weight of his presence alone makes you tense, makes your fingers curl at your sides.

“so what?” his voice drops lower, teasing, taunting. “did you finally decide to put this to a stop?”

the question lingers, thick in the space between you. his free hand lifts slowly before his fingertips graze your cheek, featherlight, tracing along your skin as if testing a boundary he already knows you’ll break.

“how impressive,” he mocks.

your breath catches, but you don’t move away. you should. you should shove him, slap his hand away, spit venom at him. but instead, you freeze, your eyes fluttering for the briefest second as your body betrays you again. the warmth of his fingers, the deliberate slowness of his touch—it ignites a part inside you that nobody else can.

waiting for your mind to catch up, you manage to utter, to ‘firmly’ declare—“i don’t care, i’m not going.”

you lift a hand to swat him away. but before you can, he moves faster. his fingers tighten around your jaw in a firm, unyielding grip, tilting your chin up as he forces you to meet his gaze. his grip isn't harsh enough to hurt—yet—but it’s commanding. it’s possessive.

your lips part involuntarily as your breathing stutters. his eyes that glare at you, dark and sharp, finally reveal something other than amusement. the crack of his patience. the loss of his composure.

“i don’t give a shit what my joke of a father wants,” he murmurs, his tone now edged with something harsher, something real. his fingers press into the soft skin of your cheeks, forcing your lips together to a mewl as he inches closer. “but you do, don’t you?”

the words drip like a taunt, threading through the tension-laced air. you hate that he’s right. hate that he can see through you so effortlessly.

“i’m doing you a favour.”

his grip loosens just as his hand begins its slow descent, trailing down the side of your face, over your throat, until his fingertips graze your collarbone. the warmth of his touch spreads over your skin, leaving fire in its wake, and you despise how you lean into it.

his long fingers hook onto the thin strap of your lace camisole, dragging it off your shoulder at an agonizing pace. the cool air against your newly exposed skin sends a shiver down your spine. you swallow hard, refusing to look at him, refusing to acknowledge the heat pooling low in your stomach.

then, he leans in. his lips brush against your bare shoulder first, barely there, ghosting over your skin like a whisper. they move slowly, unhurried, dragging up the delicate curve of your neck. his cold nose follows close behind, brushing against your skin in contrast to the warmth of his lips, making you quiver as the chill of his touch lingers.

when he reaches your ear, his breath is warm and teasing, almost making you work to hear what he has to say because you can barely focus.

“the least you can do,” he murmurs, voice silk-soft against your skin but tainted with command, “is be a good girl…and get dressed without wasting more time.”

without any more words, kaiser releases his grip, straightening himself to his full height. he turns and begins to walk towards the door. the crunch of shattered glass underfoot is the only sound that brings you back to reality, as though he’s walking away from something broken, something already forgotten.

but you do as he says. you listen.

because he’s doing you a favour, after all.

a/n: ngl this is not proofread oops. me and nishi keep talking about how this man cannot be fixed and yet here we are...one toxic kaiser drabble after another... :D

[quandledlngle69]

BLOOD IN THE SNOW

☆ CONTENT: All kaiser has known is a violent and cruel world. It's not any better when he's drafted for war. Eventually, he gets fatally wounded in the foreign country he's fighting in. He's ready to die bitterly, but someone finds him before he slips away. ☆ GENRE/THEMES/WARNING:  Blood, Violence, abuse, cruelty, one sentence mention of someone having half a face, solider kaiser, winter, blood, gun shot wound, slight modern warfare (?), reader helping Kaiser. ☆ PAIRING: Soldier!Kaiser x Civilian!Reader. ☆ W.C. 0.9K ☆ NOTE: Sorry if this is not my best work lol kinda just puked out, don't think i executed this concept well and kinda rushed but oh well. i only proof read this twice (?) and was written in like four hours. Enjoy!

The only thing Michael Kaiser had known was violence, bloodshed, and death.

From the day he gained a certain consciousness, it was the first thing he was taught, the first thing he experienced, the first thing that was deemed normal.

He never learned how to read and write, only to keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself. That was more important in his ‘household’–if you could even call it that. Lessons were learned in fists, in hands wrapped around the neck–mistakes meant you starved and bled. Maybe that’s why, when they put a rifle in his hands, cool heavy metal against hot skin, a single bullet enough to end a life, it didn’t feel much different. If you had a body, you could fight. And no one would miss a boy who didn’t belong anywhere.

He remembered the day he got the papers–his uniform. He wasn’t surprised, it was just a waiting game, every able male in his town got one. He had overheard from the older boys the pastor's eldest son left in crisp uniform, only to return with half a face. 

The first battle wasn’t what they said it would be. Not the second, not the third, not the forth, not the fifth. There was no glory, no heroism, no 'good' act of fighting for one's country. Just muddy trenches, overwhelming noise and men dropping like slaughtered animals. The battlefield smelled like dirt, metallic gunpowder and something sickly sweet that clung to the back of his throat. He moved because he was told to, pulled the trigger because he was ordered to, and when his fellow men left and right of him fell, he didn’t stop to help them. 

He didn’t have the luxury or privilege to hesitate, to feel fear, to listen to his body’s warning of danger.

Just orders. Just pure survival.

He didn’t remember what day he left for war, what time–but in a blink of an eye, it was winter. The first frost came, snowflakes seemingly coming from nowhere. But there wasn’t the usual excitement he saw, like the people from his town, because nobody could go home. Every man too busy fighting to stay alive.

Maybe the difference between the hellhole here and the hellhole covered by a roof and walls, was that here, pain and suffering had a purpose. Here, everybody suffered.

Maybe that's why, when he finally got shot, he understood his purpose had been fulfilled. 

He didn't know how long he’d been mindlessly roaming for. A trail of crimson in the white snow led to his hunched over form, one hand steading himself on a tree. His knees buckled before he slid down to the ground, legs too weak to support himself. He was shivering violently, maybe from the below freezing temps, maybe from the shock of blood loss, he thinks. His head fell back rather harshly against the thick wood, before tilting down slightly as the corners of his vision blurred, his mind swimming. Trying to keep the rhythm of his breathing under control, he attempted to breathe evenly, but his body refused to listen to him. The harder his lungs forced him to suck in a breath, the more the blood trickled from his wound, the warm liquid squeezing between the gaps of his soaked fingertips. The once large puffs falling from his bluish lips slowly grew smaller, and smaller.

There was no fear in his heart at the thought of dying here, in a foreign country, alone. Only a lingering bitterness, one that managed to sour his face, even with the growing fatigue and excruciating pain.

He couldn’t say whether it was the confusion and mind–fog starting to kick in from the blood loss, or his blurry vision really was seeing a figure in the distance, seemingly jogging over to him in a hurry. He could hear the faint sound of an animal barking, and the crunching of snow under boots.

You almost tripped in the calf–deep snow trying to get to the slumped figure of the man, the large body of your german shepherd barking noisily, echoing in the dense woods. Your fluffy companion gets to him first, licking the limp, blood–covered hand of the man as he groaned at the sensation. Your eye darted to his wound, the red blooming and continuing to soak his greenish–grey uniform. Shit–shit–shit–It was a lot more damage than you thought, an hour tops before he’s just another corpse. You crouched down, taking a closer look at the out of place soldier, a juxtaposition in this pure snow scenery. Drawing closer to his face, you nervously shift from one foot to the other. 

His eyes were glossed over, half–lidded, his frosted blonde lashes tickling your thumb as you cupped his face, thinking deeply about how you were gonna keep him from falling into an eternal sleep. 

His face suddenly leaned into your hands, almost as if their warmth soothed his cold, clammy, flushed cheeks.

His lips barely moved, his mumbles inaudible to your ears. 

“Hey, hey–you're okay, you need to stay awake, please.” your voice a soft, hushed whisper, picking up his drooping head. “Don’t die on me.”

You didn’t have any experience in picking up and carrying grown men, but you turned your crouched form away from him, your hands forcing his arms to wrap around your neck before hoistlng him up on your back. He hissed, hot breath directly blowing on the shell of your ear as you held up under his legs, muttering apologies under your breath; beginning to trot away from the place he once lay. You silently prayed to the gods that you weren’t too late, and you weren't carrying a future dead man.

It wasn’t easy to ignore the fact his uniform screamed at him being the enemy, a foe to your country– it's a problem you’ll dissect later.

Quandaledlngle69 © 2025

[etherealrin]

Hey! Love your works, it's really nice to read them and I just love your style💖, may I request an isagi x reader but the reader is kaiser's little sibling? It sounds fun ☺️

⋆｡˚꩜ a comprehensive tutorial on how to piss off michael kaiser in his penthouse; by yoichi isagi.

yoichi isagi just wants to hang out with you...but your brother is making it quite uncomfortable

warnings: slight violent descriptions (as a joke), michael kaiser gives you no privacy, one mention of google translated german // wc: 957

note: i was giggling the entire time writing this LMAOO imo such a funny dynamic, the rivalry goes crazy.

your bubbly laughs that echo through the penthouse allow isagi to relax, just a little bit. the environment is new to him, and he’s afraid that the smallest slip-up will result in his head being chopped off by one of the rather large, menacing butcher knives lined against the marble kitchen walls.

but what’s even more threatening is the way kaiser is glaring at him, blue gaze more piercing than any dagger.

“micha, you’re making yoi uncomfortable,” you begin, shooting the blonde haired man your own look of annoyance. you turn your attention away from the mixing bowl in front of you to interlace your fingers with yoichi’s, trying to offer him some comfort. isagi wonders if theres nervous sweat on them.

“he’s in my penthouse, with my sibling? am i meant to leave him unattended, to let this donkey roam around with free will?” kaiser huffs, arms crossing.

yikes, was he in a mood today.

“you’re calling my boyfriend a donkey?” yeah, you were ready to throw hands right there.

isagi had practically jumped for joy when you’d invited him over to bake cookies. he somehow managed to forget that you were rival’s little sibling, and that your house was technically also michael’s—of course he would own a penthouse with a city view. michael was an oddly protective elder brother, or maybe his rivalry with yoichi just ran that deeply; was it not enough for isagi to steal the soccer ball on court? did he have to steal michael’s bloodline too?

“go, um, read a psychology book or something,” you say, wanting to get your brother off the scene. “hang out with ness! i’m sure he’d love to!”

yoichi nods his head hurriedly in agreement.

“you think you two are getting rid of me that easily? that’s-“ your brother is cut off mid-scoff, his phone ringing loudly and persistently. you snicker, knowing that you were about to win.

“was zum teufel,” michael spits, picking up the line.

“no, ness, i’m busy…what? you seriously can’t drive yourself? can’t i…uh….i guess you’re right,” he seems to be arguing with ness, going back and forth.

“you two lucky idiots are getting your wish,” michael snaps as he hangs up, hurrying out the door. before it closes, a warning: “isagi, if you try anything, i’ll screw you over before you can blink twice.”

“yeah yeah, shitty rose.” yoichi’s ego gets the best of him. great, now he’d been rude to your brother in front of you!

but you don’t seem to mind, maybe you didn’t care, humming softly as you add chocolate chips to the mix.

"you need to move out," yoichi doesn't think he can visit you if this is how your brother was going to be.

“hmmm, could be worse. what if we made s’mores cookies?” you reply excitedly.

“the ones with marshmallows?”

“yep! i think i have them somewhere,” you pull him into your startling large pantry. the size is almost that of a grocery aisle, and it’s stocked with an insane amount of protein powder—likely your brother’s doing—but you find the small package of the fluffy white sweets tucked away in a corner.

except, you can’t quite get to it, the nook being far above your head.

“let me,” yoichi says, reaching up. he has to be on the tips of his toes, curse michael kaiser for being so damn tall!

as yoichi fumbles above you for a bit, he doesn’t notice the odd position he’s forced you into, your back flush against the shelves. you’re not that much shorter than him, but he’s gripping onto your shoulder for support, and the proximity makes you flustered. he smells good, crisp and clean, a hint of citrus in the mix.

with a small flop, the bag finally comes crashing down, along with yoichi’s balance. he lets out a startled yelp, hurriedly latching onto your other shoulder.

oh.

you blink, fazed by his deep aquamarine eyes, and the way that your noses are practically touching. his breath is ticklish, irregular from the earlier struggle, and a cherry red blush painted across his entire face.

you’re both too scared to move, stuck in the haze, should you move? closer? maybe further?

it’s like that for an agonizingly long second—still—until yoichi chooses for the both of you, his fingertips make contact with your jaw and they’re warm, hot like the kiss he suddenly pulls you into.

you’re far too eager to reciprocate, hands finding their way into his soft dark locks. the cookie batter stays neglected on the sleek white countertop, both of you distracted and lost in another world.

when your lungs threaten to implode from lack of air, that’s when you pull away, gasping softly.

your boyfriend’s face is ten times redder now.

“sorry, i- i should’ve asked first,” yoichi stammers, flustered and unable to meet your eyes.

“it’s fine, i like you when you’re confident, yoi,” you smile, twisting a strand of his hair.

you fail to notice how the front door had opened, and you’re greeted with michael kaiser standing in the hallway, gawking at the two of you.

“why’s he in my pantry?” michael’s pissed now. “of all damn places, could you two not make out in the middle of my protein powder? seriously, that is gross. i won’t be able to drink that shit now!”

“oops,” you giggle. “you’re just upset that you don’t have someone.” your brother lets out an indignant huff, ready to start hell as he marches closer. you’re still snickering.

unfortunately, yoichi cannot find any of this nearly as funny as you do—no, he’s already thinking about the hell your brother’s going to give him during the game tomorrow, convinced that both of the kaisers would be the death of him.

a/n: michael says "what the hell" in german, i just wanted to make it diverse idk. like genuinely isagi is lucky if he makes it through the week dating a kaiser sibling...kaiser is not giving his blessing for the wedding LMFAO

masterlist!

[purinminmin]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆ WHITE LIES -> michael kaiser !!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ILYSB - STRIPPED by lany.

synopsis; in which you wonder when and what made kaiser want to propose to you, his darling partner cw: fluff, mentions of marriage/engagement, unproofread + lowercase, slight spoilers for his backstory, implied f!reader but can be interpreted as gn!, self-indulgent, perhaps ooc kaiser (lmk if i forget something!!!)

"ain't never felt this way . can't get enough so stay with me"

silence had fallen beneath your shared bedroom as you found yourself staring at the glinting sapphire on your ring finger, a sign of his devotion. had he been staring at you instead of the book he was reading, he'd see the gears turning in your head as you spoke:

"micha, why did you propose?"

"what?" kaiser turned to face you, the book forgotten as he placed it on the bedside table. when he processed your question, he scoffed.

"that's a stupid question. because you love me and i love you, obviously."

"No, duh! I meant like…what made you want to propose now?"

"oh, you should've worded it properly then, schatzi."

"don't be a prick, micha. well? the answer?"

a cocky grin graced his lips when he heard your snappy retort. he was silent for a while as he reminisced, his fingers sneakily trailing downwards to wrap around yours.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

the reason he proposed wasn't something exceptional, he thought.

it was on a random night, where the both of you were sitting in a comfortable darkness in the living room. his eyes trailed to your adorably scrunched up face as you tried to figure out how to share the screen of your phone to the tv so you could watch the show you had picked for movie night.

"this is stupid," you muttered under your breath "why does this site ask for so much…."

then you reached out for him, tapping on his shoulder and begrudgingly asking for his help. he recalled how badly he had wanted to release such a snarky remark, but held it back in the form of a nasty smirk. he didn't want to ruin movie night before it even started.

you had looped your arm around his without so much as a warning, as he messed with the buttons on your phone so he could get it connected. finally, he succeeded, bristling proudly as he set your phone down the table and turned his attention to the sappy romance movie you picked.

safe to say, he quickly got bored of it. so instead, he trailed his eyes downwards to you.

you, who was oh so engrossed in the movie, didn't even notice the intense gaze he inflicted on you. his gaze flickered to the lack of space between them, noticing the way your arms had interlocked with one another.

"wait...when did she..?"

he wasn't one to be unaware of what was touching his skin. he was an alert man, any single piece of physical contact never flew past his head. 'to hurt or be hurt,' he's learned at least that much from his scumbag of a father.

then it dawned on him.

he didn't notice because he didn't have the sinking feeling of nausea that always made itself known whenever someone touched him. your innocent caresses no longer triggered his fight-or-flight.

Instead, he felt...normal? Normal as in the way a whipped lover would feel when his partner flustered him. he felt his heart racing, but not from anxiety. it was from embarassment that a simple touch from the person he loved had him this riled up. He felt.....

...comfortable.

At that moment, kaiser made up his mind. he was going to put a pretty little ring on your finger, something that highlighted how precious you were to him (perhaps a blue stone...yes, he'd love to see his favorite color on you every single day), and marry you for good.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

he would never tell you that.

he didn't realize how badly he spaced out when you snapped your fingers in front of him.

"yo, kaiser. cat got your tongue?"

he clicked said tongue with irritation at your casual tone, wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his nose between the crook of your neck.

"don't call me that. you know that's going to be your last name too, right?"

"please quit trying to change the subject, love. "

"fine, but only because you asked so nicely, schatzi." he murmured softly against your skin as he began recounting about some random date you had at the beach; blabbing about how the sun hit your hair perfectly, he got jealous of all the other couples proposing, its about time anyway, the view was pretty and so were you, all that cheesy stuff. he felt slightly guilty for not telling the truth, but he'd like to keep his sweet little revelation all to himself.

Besides, a little white lie never hurt sometimes.

"oh, my heart hurts so good . I love you, babe, so bad"

a/n: aaaaaaa first fic ?! thank uu so so much for reading! honestly, don't think so much of this lol, i wrote it at 3am while i was 'studying for finals.' i hope someone noticed in the middle of the fic but this was heavily based on brooklyn99 when peraltiago got engaged AHHH also i feel the title white lie was so fitting because....white = marriage usually...heh...get it...

[majinael]

pt2 of vulnerable

★michael kaiser x she/her pronouns reader (can be interpreted as GN)

★4,8k words

★TW: selfharm, blood, choking, mentions of Kaiser's past

★songs associated : the beach & creep

The late afternoon sun bathed the room in a warm glow as I tidied my desk, the faint scent of disinfectant lingering in the air. It was quiet, save for the rustle of papers and the occasional creak of the chair. Just as I tucked a clipboard away, a gentle knock sounded on the door.

Before I could answer, the door eased open, and Alexis Ness stepped inside, his signature wide smile lighting up the room.

“Oh, hello Alexis!” I greeted, straightening up. “Do you need anything?”

“Hi, (Y/N),” he replied cheerfully, though there was a slight hesitation in his voice. “Could you take a look at my ankle? I woke up this morning, and it cracked. Now I’m worried.”

I tilted my head, giving him a once-over before nodding. “Sure, have a seat.” I gestured for him to lie down on the examination table nearby.

As he settled, I carefully examined his ankle, pressing gently along the joint. “Do you feel any pain?”

“Not really, no,” he admitted, his tone almost sheepish.

“You’re sure it’s not just from a morning stretch?” I asked, glancing up at him. “Everything looks fine to me.”

He hummed thoughtfully, then smiled mischievously. “Mh… I probably just wanted an excuse to see you today. It’s been a while.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I removed my hands. “You could’ve just said so, you know. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay,” he said, sitting up. Then, his gaze turned curious. “I noticed you tending to Michael’s injury yesterday. That’s unusual. What happened?”

“Nothing serious,” I assured him. “Noel asked me to check on him. You know how he is about Michael—always hovering.”

Alexis scoffed lightly, a teasing edge to his voice. “And here I thought Michael had finally made a new friend.”

The corner of my lips quirked up at the thought. “Right. Michael doesn’t exactly have a crowd of friends, does he? I wish he’d open up more.”

Alexis’s smile faltered for a moment, and his tone softened. “It’s not that simple with him. It took years for him to trust me.”

“I’m glad he has you, though,” I said earnestly. “Still… it wouldn’t hurt to see him smile more often.”

He gave me a quiet nod before standing, his fingers idly adjusting the hem of his sweater. He was halfway to the door when I called out, “Wait, Alexis.”

He turned back, his gaze questioning.

“Could you ask Michael to come back here? I need to check his wound again. It needs particular attention, and…” My voice trailed off as a flicker of memory surfaced—the first day I met Michael, his dismissive attitude toward his own well-being. “…I want to make sure he’s alright. Don’t tell him I asked, though.”

Alexis’s expression softened as he nodded, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. Without another word, he slipped out the door.

Left alone, I returned to my desk, though my focus was far from the papers in front of me. I found myself wondering if Michael would step through that door. Somehow, the thought of him ignoring the request seemed just as likely as him showing up, albeit reluctantly.

For now, all I could do was wait.

Strangely enough, Michael showed up. The door swung open without so much as a knock, his ever-present cocky smirk plastered across his face. Despite myself, I felt a wave of relief.

“I knew you missed me,” he drawled, stepping inside with an air of exaggerated confidence. “So I thought I’d grace you with a visit.”

I scoffed, spinning my chair around to face him. “You really should learn to knock before barging in.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he quipped, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“What if I was with someone else?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his smirk widening. “Then what? It’s not like you’d be making out with your patients.”

“You never know,” I shot back, amused.

“With that bunch of imbeciles?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I doubt it.”

Shaking my head, I stood up and held out my hand. “Come on,” I said, gesturing for his.

Michael eyed me suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“It’s not like I’m proposing or anything,” I teased. “Just give me your hand.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he complied, extending his hand toward me. I gently unwrapped the clumsy bandage that he’d haphazardly tied around his injury. The sight of his attempt made me smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” I replied, though I couldn’t quite hide my amusement.

“Spit it out,” he insisted, his tone sharp yet curious.

I chuckled lightly. “Your bandaging skills. Don’t take it the wrong way, though. I think it’s cute that you tried.”

“Good thing I’m not a nurse, then,” he shot back, smirking. “But I can’t say you’re a good teacher.”

The playful jab caught me off guard, and I laughed. It was rare to see Michael mimic someone’s words so directly—it felt oddly endearing, even if I knew he was doing it to mock me.

“Do you want a tutorial, perhaps?” I teased.

He didn’t answer, but as I glanced up, I noticed him squinting at my hands, watching my movements with a level of focus I hadn’t expected.

“Mmm… but it’s much funnier when you let me handle it,” I added, leaning back slightly. “I almost don’t want to teach you. Though…” I smiled in amusement. “It’s not a very difficult task.”

“Or maybe you ARE just bad at teaching,” He shot back, playfully narrowing his eyes.

“It’s a bother coming here just for a little check up,” he grumbled, though his tone lacked any real annoyance.

“Alright, alright,” I relented with a smile. “I’ll show you properly. Just this once.”

I cleaned his wound with practiced care, then demonstrated how to bandage it properly. As I finished, I glanced up, catching him inspecting his hand. My gaze lingered for a moment longer than I intended, taking in his entire demeanor.

But something caught my eye—faint marks on his neck, half-hidden by his collar. My breath hitched.

Before he could turn to leave, I instinctively reached out, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “Wait, Kaiser.”

He turned back, brow furrowed. “What now?”

“S-sorry,” I stammered, my voice unsteady. “Can you come back here for a second?”

Michael sighed heavily but complied, stepping closer. My hand hesitated before gently capturing his jaw, tilting his face to the side to get a better look. The light revealed it clearly—faint but undeniable strangulation marks trailing along his neck.

His eyes widened, and in an instant, he shoved me away with startling aggression.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it.

“Michael…” I whispered, my heart pounding. “Who did this to you?”

“That’s none of your business.” His tone was sharp, his usual bravado replaced by something raw and defensive.

“Michael, please,” I tried again, desperate. “I just—”

But he didn’t let me finish. With a scowl and a tense jaw, he turned on his heel and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him.

I stood frozen for a moment before sinking into my chair, my head buried in my hands. My mind replayed the image of those marks over and over again. I tried to convince myself it could be from something harmless—some lewd activity, maybe—but deep down, I doubted it.

Fear mixed with determination as I sat there, heart heavy. I couldn’t let it go. I needed to find out the truth, no matter how much Michael wanted to keep me out.

Eventually, I became so consumed by my thoughts and work that I completely forgot about my week off. It wasn’t until the night before that I realized, thanks to my best friend’s text: “Are you ready?” It hit me like a ton of bricks—she was picking me up in an hour. In a panic, I dashed around my apartment, grabbing everything I thought I’d need and stuffing it haphazardly into my luggage.

We embarked on a six-day road trip, stopping in every quaint town that caught our eye. We lived out of a van, showered in campgrounds or public gyms, and embraced an experience that was raw and unpolished—far from the luxuries I could afford but so much more real. I had the most incredible time, leaving behind all my work and worries. Well, almost all.

In one of those charming towns, we stopped at a shop selling handmade, unique jewelry. While my best friend hunted for a good place to eat, I browsed the store to find something special—souvenirs to remember our trip. That’s when I saw it: a blue rose necklace. It was beautiful, handcrafted, and utterly unique. It reminded me of Michael. Without hesitation, I bought it, completely forgetting why I’d entered the shop in the first place.

I asked the seller to wrap it as a gift and stepped out to meet my best friend. On the way, I passed a newsstand. Fate, it seemed, wasn’t quite done with me. A familiar figure stared back at me from the cover of a football magazine. Michael Kaiser.

Impulsively, I bought the magazine. My best friend, curious, asked about it. I shrugged, casually replying, “I know him from work. I just thought he looked nice.” She didn’t press further, and we carried on with our day.

As much as I loved the road trip, it eventually came to an end. After hugging my best friend goodbye, I returned to my apartment, threw my luggage in the corner, and collapsed onto my bed. I drifted off, only to be woken by my alarm the next morning.

The routine of work crept back in. My office was exactly as I’d left it—monotonous and unchanging. By 2 p.m., I hadn’t even had lunch, so I headed to the cafeteria. It was empty, the quiet echoing my mood. I ate alone, and as I finished, a thought crossed my mind: What if fate brought me to Michael again? It didn’t.

Not that day, at least.

The next day, a loud crash from the bathroom near my office jolted me from my work. I rushed to the door, knocking urgently. No response, but I could hear the sounds of labored breathing and muffled cries.

“Please open the door,” I called softly, trying to sound calm. “I’m here to help.”

Still no answer.

Fearing the worst, I used the universal key I’d been given. I hesitated at first, reluctant to invade someone’s privacy, but the distressing sounds forced my hand. What I saw broke me.

Michael was on the floor, his face flushed red and blue, his hands tightening around his own neck. Shards of a shattered mirror littered the floor, and his blood dripping from his fist all the way down his arm. His tear-filled eyes met mine, a mix of anger, fear, and vulnerability.

“Michael...” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“L-leave me alone,” he growled, his tone raw and desperate.

Ignoring his protests, I close the door behind me, knelt in the broken glass, unbothered by the sting against my skin. “Look at me,” I said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

He didn’t stop.

“Does it feel good?” I asked gently, out of panic trying to break through the haze of his pain.

No answer.

“Michael, you don’t have to do this. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Tears blurred my vision as I slowly guided his trembling hands away from his neck. He didn’t resist, though he could have. As his arms fell limp, I pulled him into an embrace, ignoring the blood, the mess, everything.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You’re okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He didn’t speak. After a moment, I felt his arms weakly wrap around me, his face pressing into my shoulder.

“Forget this ever happened,” he murmured, his voice cracked and hollow.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out a tissue to gently wipe his tears and the blood from his face. My gaze never left his, soft and understanding, free of judgment. And he felt like he was now holding something he was afraid to corrupt.

“Let’s go somewhere safer,” I suggested, standing and offering him my hand.

For a fleeting moment, he hesitated, his gaze fixed on his bloodied fingers, trembling as if they belonged to someone else. In his mind, he was no longer the man standing before me but a fragile child again—haunted by the cruelty of his father and the absence of his mother. The shadows of his past loomed over him, suffocating and unrelenting. Yet, today, amidst the weight of his despair, someone stood before him, offering their hand—not with pity, but with unwavering resolve. They didn’t flinch at the sight of his brokenness, nor did they care about the blood or the mess. Slowly, tentatively, he lifted his battered, shattered hand and placed it in mine, as though grasping for salvation he never thought he deserved.

I led him to my office, locking the door behind us. He sat silently, staring at his hands while I gathered supplies to clean his wounds. Carefully, I removed the glass shards, disinfected the cuts, and bandaged them. When I asked to examine his neck, he turned his head wordlessly, avoiding my gaze.

“What a beautiful tattoo,” I murmured as I applied a soothing cream. “I’ve never seen it this close.”

He stayed silent, his vulnerability raw and unguarded.

When I finished, I sat beside him, offering a soft smile. “Michael, you did amazing,” I said sincerely. “Do you want to rest here for a while? I’ll watch over you.”

No response.

“The door’s open if you want to leave,” I added gently. “I’ll clean up the bathroom and blame the mirror on my clumsiness.”

I stood, giving him space to decide. In that moment, I realized how deeply this broken man trusted me—his raw vulnerability was both a plea for help and an act of silent courage. And he, realized how he was now forced trust someone for the first time in his life. But maybe, if it was you, it didn’t sound so bad anymore he thought, your angel face and bright smile in his mind as he laid down and fell asleep.

When I finished cleaning, I returned to find him asleep, his body finally at ease, though his fist remained tightly clenched. My chest ached at the sight. What I had witnessed earlier—the way he froze at even the smallest act of kindness—gnawed at me. What kind of life could leave someone so unaccustomed to tenderness? The answer had begun to form, unspoken, in the back of my mind.

Quietly, I opened the closet and pulled out a warm blanket, draping it over him with care. His breathing remained steady, entirely undisturbed. For a moment, I hesitated, leaning closer until I could feel his warmth. Then, unable to resist, I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. It was impulsive, but it felt so natural—so right—that I didn’t let myself question it. Friends do things like that, don’t they? Convinced of my reasoning, I straightened and returned to my work.

An hour passed, the room bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. He was still asleep, his expression peaceful for once. As dinner approached, I decided to leave the office and grab some food. I made sure to get enough for him too. When I returned, he was awake, now sitting upright, his gaze distant as if still caught in a dream.

“I got you some food,” I said, placing the plates on my desk. “You should eat.”

His eyes flickered away, deliberately avoiding mine.

I stayed there for a moment, watching him, my voice softening. “Are you... feeling better?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed, pushing himself to his feet. Without a word, he walked to the door, his intention to leave clear.

“Michael… wait.”

Before I could think, my fingers grasped the hem of his sweatshirt. He froze. Slowly, he turned to face me, his expression unreadable.

“I have something for you,” I murmured, pulling a small gift from my bag and offering it to him.

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at the gift, then at me, as though trying to decipher my intentions. Finally, he took it silently. He didn’t say anything as he slipped through the door, leaving me behind.

I sat back in my chair, staring after him. What I didn’t see—what I couldn’t see—were the tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he walked down the empty corridor. The unopened gift rested against his chest, right over his pounding heart.

Whenever he was with you, he felt things he didn’t know how to name—new, foreign emotions that terrified and overwhelmed him. Warmth, comfort, a fragile sense of belonging. They wrapped around him like a gentle embrace, whispering promises he was too scared to believe. He wanted to think he had found a friend, but every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t silence the fear.

Fear that you’d leave. Fear of the feelings that consumed him whenever you were near. Fear that all of this was just his imagination, or that he would end up pushing you away, just like he does with everyone, fear that what you had seen disgusted you, or that you’d judge him for it, drowning him with questions as soon as he would come back.

He had spent years crafting his image—confident, untouchable, brilliant on the field. And yet, to the one person he, for the first time started to attach himself to, he was afraid he’d already shattered that illusion. Vulnerability, to him, was a weapon—a blade that could be turned against him at any moment.

As he left, his thoughts spiraled. He wished he could go back, wished he’d pushed you away before it was too late. But now, it was far, far too late. And even he realized.

Did you mean your words ? Were you really proud of him ? Did you change your mind ? Would you change ? Soften ? He didn’t want this. He wanted, you, to never change the way you looked at him with such admiration, to never change the way your cockiness only seemed to fade away to be replaced by an indescribable tenderness that just made no sense to him whenever he was injured, that was so full of love, so distant from judgment, and he thought about it so much this night, he had even forgotten to open the gift you gave him.

Does he hate that ray of sunshine in his dark and cold world or does he want to bathe in it ? Even if it was the second answer he never thought he, out of everyone, deserved it, all the work he had put in just to feel a glimpse of proudness when he looked into the mirror was never enough, so he gave up, he gave up on you. He gave up on following what made him feel good. He always said he strove best in discomfort. But had he really meant it ? Or was it just another excuse ?

hello hello, part3 should be released tomorrow at 8PM UTC+1, I hope you like this part as much as the first one, thank you for reading. <3

[kingkunigami]

— pretty

Ness would do anything for Kaiser, but little did you know he would do anything for you too…

Warnings: 18+, dub-con (reader consents but it’s never explicitly asked/stated), coercion, semi-public sex, panty theft, mentioned m!masturbation.

Pairing: Kaiser Michael x Ness Alexis x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.2k.

“You ever seen a pair of tits, Ness?”

Being with Michael Kaiser you were used to his rather blunt and straightforward nature, but even this question caught you by surprise as your eyes snapped towards the sweaty man standing by his locker in the changing rooms.

“Uh—” The poor man looked mortified as he kept his hand on the door to his locker, trying not to look back between you and Kaiser, “I— what?”

It wasn’t unusual for Ness to see you in the locker rooms after training or a big game, whether you’d be waiting for Kaiser to finish his shower or dragged into it yourself it was almost like a game ritual at this point. Even if after all this time he was still nervous to so much as take his shirt off in front of you— a fact that Kaiser would tease him relentlessly over. Which is why when Kaiser asked Ness if he wanted to see your breasts right now, you thought it was another one of his explicit jokes.

“Do you want to?” Kaiser didn’t wait for an answer, calloused palms already sliding beneath the oversized football shirt you wore emblazoned with his name on the back.

“Michael,” You hissed, giving your boyfriend a pointed look before glancing towards a shameful looking Ness. His cheeks tinged a bright red as he focused his gaze directly towards the ground, “You can’t just ask him that.”

“Why not?” He gave you a smug grin, his chin glistening from the mess of your sparkly lipgloss as his thumbs brushed the underside of your bra, “It’s a valid question.”

“You’re making him uncomfortable.”

“Nah, I’m not,” Kaiser looked over at his teammate, “Ness, are you uncomfortable right now?”

“N-no.” Magenta eyes glanced towards Kaiser before shaking his head.

“See,” Kaiser bobbed his chin, “He’s fine.”

“It’s because he doesn’t want to disappoint you.” You rolled your eyes.

It was no secret to anyone that Ness would do anything to please Kaiser, which is why when you’d first started dating him you’d suspected the smaller man may even have a crush on him. Something that Kaiser vehemently denied as he brushed all of your worries away, “have you not seen the way he stares at you when you’re with me? He’s got a fat crush on you, not me. I caught him staring at your ass last week when you were wearing that skirt I like.”

But ever since that conversation with Kaiser you’d begun to notice the way that Ness would stare over at you when he thought no one else was watching, noticing the slight pink tinge to his ears whenever you’d catch him and he’d quickly look away.

There was a particular evening that you remembered where Kaiser had scored the winning goal (thanks to Ness) and declared you his prize, stripping you in the locker rooms as he carried you towards the showers to celebrate. After your romp you’d noticed the magenta panties you’d been wearing that evening were nowhere to be found. And unbeknownst to you, Ness had fisted his cock with the lacy fabric outside the shower stalls as he listened to your sultry moans, thinking about how your pretty cunt would feel wrapped around his cock.

When you’d told Kaiser about it, he told you not to worry. That they’d show up, or he’d buy you new ones as you forced him to give you his boxers to wear home. But Kaiser had found out pretty quickly that the culprit was none other than his teammate and friend. A fact that had his lips curling into a sinister smile when Ness practically begged him not to tell you.

“Yeah, and what a great friend he is, huh?” Kaiser laughed as he leaned down for another kiss, but you moved your head back to stop his lips from meeting yours. An act that had his hands tightening on your sides to try and stop you from moving away, “C’mon sweetheart, don’t be like that.”

“Ness, if you wanted to shower we can leave.” You smiled over at the man as he still lingered near the door by his locker. His skin slick with sweat from training out on the field, fresh beads clinging to his skin as they trickled down the sides of his face and along the apex of his neck.

“I don’t think he wants to shower, I think he wants to see your tits.” Kaiser grinned, nodding his head towards the growing bulge beneath Ness’ shorts, “Look how hard he is already, fucking virgin.”

“Don’t be so mean, Kaiser.” You annunciated his surname which caused him to groan against your neck, warm palms reaching up to cup your clothed breasts as he squeezed roughly. Mumbling something in German as his nostrils flared.

“I’m being pretty fucking generous if you ask me,” He scoffed, “The guys never seen a pair before, and what better way to start than with yours.”

You gasped when Kaiser pulled the cups of your bra down to let your breasts spill free beneath your shirt. Deft fingers pinching and tugging at your hardening nipples as you arched your back into his touch. His lips curling into a grin against your neck, biting down on the supple skin before pulling away to gauge your reaction.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s show him.” Kaiser murmurs, ghosting the shell of your ear as he slowly raises your shirt up to reveal your bare breasts.

Ness’ adams apple bobs at the sight as he swallows thickly, sweat trickles down his brow as he watches Kaiser continue to roll your nipples under his thumbs.

“He’s practically fucking drooling.” Kaiser mocks, rutting his hips against you as your clit throbs between your thighs.

“Wanna touch them?” Kaiser smirked as he cupped your round breasts, smoothing his calloused thumbs over your pebbled nipples as he rut his crotch into the small of your back. Warm lips peppering kisses against the curve of your neck as he watched his friends tongue dart out to wet his lips, magenta eyes focused on your chest.

Ness leaves his locker wide open as he steps closer, a hand tentatively reaching out to paw at the swell of your exposed breasts. Your gasp catches in your throat as your back arches into his touch, a stark contrast to how rough and certain Kaisers movements always are. The slightest ghost of his palm against your skin as he tests the waters, feeling the weight of one in his palm as you moan softly.

“Pretty.” He mumbles.

“She’s pretty all over.” Kaiser coos, sliding his palm along your exposed tummy as he reaches the hem of your skirt, disappearing beneath the material to cup your clothed cunt. Feeling the heat radiating from your core as he feels just how wet the fabrics become from what’s going on in the room. An indication that you were enjoying this far more than you were letting on.

“She’s got the prettiest pussy too, you wouldn’t believe.” He grins against your cheek, slender fingers delving beneath the flimsy panties you decided to wear today as he brushes through the slick drooling from your tight hole, “Wanna see?”

[koipudding]

like. what kinds of dates does kaiser like.

drabble. wc: ??? under 700. i typed it straight jn tumblr.

cw: kaiser steals your french fries and a chicken nugget. i know. how evil. sex mention too (but nothing ever happens) slight manipulation bjt like. it’s silly.

would he—on the first date—try to impress you by taking you to a fancy modern art gallery in Munich?

to appear smarter—richer—more educated than he currently is (this is more of a”traditional education” thing: primary then secondary school… university and a degree, etc. Kaiser has some education—he enjoys reading psychology texts—but other than that i have no clue) to win your favor.

To be frank, the pieces in the gallery are boring. no doubt there was some… idea the artists want to convey; a metaphor for “our flawed society” or “inherent evil of human society”, however Kaiser doesn’t get it, and judging by your yawn, you don’t either. But it’s all to gain your affection, so he drags you down to view products of a graphic design class from some prestigious art school, and sculptures further down.

“you make that face a lot.” You nudge kaiser’s side and point at a scowling wild cat (some sort of foreign species, he can’t think of the name…)

“I dont. If anything it’s your face. idiot.” he scoffs and ignores how you look grinning at him. Little brat.

He drags you along and purchases a poster for you. The attendant (?) puts a red sticker on the name plate.

“Good. send it to XX-XX on XX street, Munich.”

The attendant writes it all down and scurries off.

Kaiser would continue to pick “tasteful” date spots: an opera, a concert hall, a fancy restaurant with a wait list that lasts a year, and more galleries and ateliers. Often, he’d buy a piece or two from art galleries, etc in order to show off his impeccable, superior taste.

(you and your friends laugh at the things he sends; his taste is… endearing. gaudy hyper-pop posters from famous artists, decor bent anf molded to weird shapes, and jewelry too ostentatious to even leave the glass showing case it came in. they all feature your favorite colors, plants and animals so… at least he pays attention? you pray you’re not a basic bitch and he’s not just googling “what do people like to receive from their boyfriends”)

of course, there’s always a time for extravagance to end, and you break it to him after seeing a concert (and while it was a lovely concert, with a great orchestra and your favorite movie soundtrack, getting ready every week js exhausting).

“i like when we do this too, y’know. no need to blow your hard earned money on me all the time.” You steal one of his french fries.

his eyebrow twitches. It’s a good thing you stole a fry; you cant tell if he’s mad about that or your comment. It’s good for your mental health to assume the former and not feel guilty.

“like, i enjoy it. It’s nice, but maybe we should do it every other month, and do small things like this.” You try to resolve the situation (can you? his jaw js clenching.)

Kaiser sighs and steals one of your chicken nuggets. You sputter at his audacity. The nerve!

“Can’t I spoil you? I have money and time. Guys naturally want to pamper their partners.”

“Kaiser,” you growl (although, it’s more like a scoff. kaiser won’t let you have your fun..), “Pampering doesn’t mean blowing hundreds of euros for a single date night.”

Michael turns his head and whistles. “Whos that? don’t know him.”

you scoff “fine. Mihya,” you say it so saccharine and kind…(hes a needy brat), “your dearest most loving and beautiful partner wishes to inquire about your spending habits, and to inform you that they also enjoy eating dinner and talking shit about everyone with you.” You give him a little posh accent, and get on your high horse, before taking a loud sip of your drink.

He steals one of your fries (blasphemous), and chews while talking “Hah? but like. you enjoy them. and you’re cute all dolled up. especially in that sweater you like so much.”

you point an accusatory fry at him (currently, you’re holding a handful of fries. not that it matters. because he’s taking them.) “you’re just saying that cause it’s your sweater. And i fuck you good after a nigjt out.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes (drama queen) “fine then, what would my most darling-perfect-adorable-kind-intelligent partner like to do for a date?” (he takes your hand, and looks at you. His full attention is yours, and his eyes are inquisitive, not empty or defensive for once.)

(really, you can see his sweat though. He’s panicking. Kaiser knows he’s not the best boyfriend ever, and you could definitely get someone more stable—but not as hot or rich or intelligent as he is—but he has to behave to win you over.)

“just us. maybe a cafe. a walk around town or a park.” You’re a fan of the simpler things; domesticity with kaiser is not something either of you have ever considered, but after a few months it sounds nice.

“like the cat one two blocks down?” he quirks an eyebrow, “i know. i got us a reservation for next week.” (a fib. but he did put one down for next week as you were speaking. so that’s what counts, right? he quickly cancels the michelin star he booked.)

your ears turn hot at that. he knew. scheming bastard.

“you—you’re unbelievable! doing all that just to make me say it to your face!?” You take more of his food, and he glowers (it teeters on a pout. But Michael Kaiser is too mature for that)

“yeah yeah, whatever. eat your fries. i’m getting a milkshake.” He stands up and orders something, and remembers your favorite desert item… he should probably get more of that too.

You later scold him on buying more desserts than you can finish on your own.

[mchlgayser]

EXPOSED?! ft michael kaiser ✮

synopsis: after a long week of important tournaments, you can finally have your boyfriend all to yourself but not without the paps 😤

warning: random quick escalation, slight hurt/comfort, mention of panic attack (not proofread) tq.

nana's note: HEYCHEYHEY BITCHES BESTIES! im back hehehehehe, how are y'all????? im good tho ik no one asks i just thought i would inform y'all about it 😹 im back with another not so good fic (no pun intended) rotflmao hope you guys have fun reading, happy reading mwahh!! (reblogs or comments are very much appreciated xoxo) tq.

You are in the bathroom doing your hair and face routine and getting ready. The door creaks open while you are applying moisturizer and you see your boyfriend standing by the doorframe, hand crossing while he looks down on you with a small grin "Hey, mein liebe." You look at him with a furrowed brow "What do you want?" He chuckles, snaking arms around your midsection.

"Do I need a reason to be sweet to you, Liebling?" You scoff "Yes, it's usually because you need something so what is it?" His smug grin to a frowny pout "That's not true! ...Actually, it is cuz' I wanna being you out on a date-"

"No." He started to whine, burying his face on the crook of your neck "Why not?" You put on your Vaseline lip balm and sigh "You know why... Kaiser, I don't plan on getting caught by your fans again, worse, not by the paparazzi."

He groans into your neck "I promise I will be more secretive this time. Come on," You bite your lip in anxiousness "I'm not sure Besides we aren't even in Germany, and I don't wanna get caught by your fans in this country. They are known to be your most fanatic, and obsessive fanbase." He laughed, head throwing back a little "I promise I'll be secretive. I super promise."

You roll your eyes at him "...Fine but just this once, okay?" He nodded clinging on to you and peppering your face with kisses.

After some time, Michael hop into the shower cubicle and you left to get ready.

You put on your most promising top and bottom. You did your hair, put on your make-up to dolled up a bit. Kaiser got out of the bathroom, groping your ass lightly before tuning his way to the closet room.

"Where are we going?" Kaiser turns to you for a brief second "It's a surprise, remember?" You roll your eyes at him again "So cliche. We've been together for three years and this is only your fourth time surprising me but let me remind you, the rest of the three didn't end well."

He laughs, looking at you gleefully "So only four times surprises is understandable, no?" You snort, humming even though you are not that agree with him.

Kaiser stops by a fine dining restaurant and then turns to you. You look at him with wide eyes "You-" He chuckles, looking at you and unbuckling his belt "I made a reservation. You don't wanna waste my money now, do you?" You bit your lips, looking at him with angry eyes "I hate you."

You get out of the car and Kaiser hands his key to the valet guy. He swoops an arm around you with a smug smile "Let's just enjoy our time, okay?" Two doormen that stand by the entrance open the door for you both.

A host came by to you and Kaiser asking for your reservation name "I put it under the name Kaiser." The male host nodded and led you to your table. It's on the second floor of the restaurant whereas most of the table is designed in private rooms. You tread on the imperial staircase to your table and sit with Kaiser.

The host handed you both menus "Would you like anything from the bar, sir and ma'am?" Kaiser hums "Yeah, we'll have your finest- No, second finest wine." The host nods, bowing down before leaving the room.

You look around the room. The panel window is adorned with curtains but is withdrawn able you to look out at the night city and the busy roads "Just how much money you've wasted for all of this?" He simply shrugs, palm prodding under his chin while he looks at you "Not much, barely 0.001% of my net worth."

You scoff at him "You brag too much." He pouts, "You know nothing is too much for you, mein liebe." You shake your head at him "Still, we can just go somewhere less lavish than this."

"Yeah, we can but I don't want to cuz' you deserve the best out of the best." You were about to argue again before the host came with your wine and a bucket of ice.

"May I take your orders now?" Kaiser looks at you before nodding "Yeah, I'll have your Lobster pasta and this sweet lady here will have..."

You can get comfortable after some time and manage to prop a conversation with your boyfriend whilst you two eat. The night and date ended smoothly until you were about to head out. As soon as you two got out, flashes of cameras and chaos tending.

People started to swarm in right by the entrance of the restaurant aching to get near you but more importantly Kaiser. Paparazzi began to circle your forms flooding you with questions in their language to which you do not understand. Kaiser is trying to pry you two off but they're so persistent.

To make matters worse, there are a few of his fanatic fanbase - no matter what gender but they just started flooding forward to get in touch with Kaiser. A few even dare to throw comments randomly about you.

"Hey, please step off. You are interrupting my girlfriend's space." He commanded but they didn't seem to budge. Your head had started to feel heavy, chest tightened and breath quickens. You look up Kaiser for help and he nods almost immediately "Please step away, everyone!"

After what seemed like an eternity, guards started to appear and help push people and give you some space. Kaiser immediately took the chance to bring you inside the car and drove off.

You are getting ready for bed, lying down as you wait for Kaiser to come. Speak of the Devil, he swings the door open and turns to you "I made a call to the restaurant. They said they'll investigate as to how the paparazzi and my fans knew about us being there." You hum, sitting up and head resting on the bedrest "It can be a coincidence, you know? Maybe someone saw us and leaked it on the internet?"

"Or maybe the staff that knew we were there leaked it!" He assumed "Stop with the shenanigans. The restaurant is for high-status people and I'm sure the policy is right. The staff must've known the consequences of leaking the customer's information especially a famous person like you." He grunts, plopping beside you on the bed "Well, who gives a damn about that anyway? All that matter is now we are home and you are fine and whoever fucker that did this, intentionally or not, I'm going to sue them." He mused, tucking himself under the duvet beside you.

He linked his tattooed arm around you and kissed your cheek "I'm sorry, mein liebe. Next time, I promise we'll be more private-"

"Oh, shut up!" He laughs.

[sadsuguru]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆！

₊˚ෆ── tags : fluff, slight hurt/comfort, married life, husband & wife, fiancé & fiancee, mentions of kaiser's past (spoiler ig?), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of nudity(no smut), pro athlete!au

₊˚ෆ── including : fiancé!michael kaiser, husband!mikage reo (ft. wife/fiancee! reader)

₊˚ෆ── sum. : hey, where's your ring? why is it off your finger?

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

when it comes to choosing partner, a person that he wishes to spend the rest of his life with, michael kaiser is very careful about it. he has witnessed the darkness behind a failed marriage for so long and decided to never make a mistake in his own, as to not bear the consequences of poor decision. thus, kaiser has always been so full of love and patience when it comes to you. he has always been as gentle as possible whenever he speaks or touches you.

but, everyone has a limit and seems to react negatively to it in the most non suitable moment ever. you knew he might have been so upset and emotionally disturbed with all of the pent up stress, building up from the pressure of the media, his team and more. however, it does not act as an excuse for him to let it all out on you. that night, he was obviously irritated to the point of snapping at you.

he laid on the sofa, sighing heavily as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down from the sudden bubbling anger rushing through his veins at this very moment. he had just return from an interview regarding to his career updates and happened to be rudely bombarded by nosy paparazzis, causing his phone charm to be lost in that moment. the crowd was too much, he can't reach nor search for the charm, not when the guards were shoving him into the van with protective manner. to the others, it might have been a cheap phone charm that he could purchase any time yet to michael kaiser, it holds so much memories, it meant a lot to him. and you.

you heard your fiancé while you were cleaning up the kitchen. excited to see him, you toss your apron onto the marble kitchen island, making your way towards him. perhaps you were too excited to see him that you didn't notice the still wet floor that you mopped minutes ago, ending with you falling onto the floor with a loud thud, sound of picture frame crashing could be heard as you tried to hold onto a surface to balance yourself but grabbed the wrong thing instead. the loud noise startled kaiser, his anger is pumping rapidly in his veins again, rising up from the sofa and make his way toward the noise.

"love— "

"why can't you be quiet for once? you always had to do something to get on my nerve, don't you?"

your eyebrows furrowed upon his taunting words that are hinted with anger. you knew that he's overstimulated by frustration but it still stir the annoyance in you. who is he to snap at you just because he is feeling negatively?

"wow, my bad i guess. didn't know it'd be a crime to be excited to see my fiancé."

kaiser frowned at your words.

"i don't like your tone."

"right, says the one who started being such a bitch."

"watch your mouth— "

"watch yours first, michael kaiser. look, i don't know what had happen during your interview but can you not take it out on me? i'm not a tool for you to release your stress on. you know what? go cool yourself off, until then we'll talk."

you ignored him as he stood there silently. you fetch your cleaning tools and carefully deal with the broken pieces, placing the picture back on its place while gathering the ruined pieces of broken picture frame into the dust pan. michael only watch your movements, not even a word spoken. he knew you're right and listened to your words as he remove himself from the spot, heading out for a walk.

kaiser spent quite a long moment as he sit by the lazy chair perched up in the garden where you've planted various flowers. the warm white light shining onto each petals and leaves of the flowers, making it appearing more romantic to look at. kaiser's fingers fiddle with his engagement ring hugging his ring finger as he zone out. his mind is clouded with hazy thoughts that are rapidly messing up his mind at this moment, be it from his past or present. he rethink of his behaviour toward you moments ago and sighed heavily. such violent behaviour his, it almost resemble to his abusive male parent back in his childhood.

growing up in violent atmosphere, pain is all he ever learn about. he yearn for love ; to love and to be loved. he spent his childhood imagining what a love would feel like ; is it true that motherly love feels like heaven? is it true that fatherly love feels like you're in the safest universe ever? they said, parents are the hero of every children, yet, why does his abused him and neglected him?

was it because his parent's love were meant to be painful as you yearn more for it? was it because love was never real? or worse, was it because he is just an unlovable child? if love truly exist, why does he need to suffer in order to get a taste of it? they said love is sweet, yet why was it bitter to him? they said love is warm, yet why was he lying on the cold floor as warm fist pounding his fragile body? they said love is soft, yet why was it full of thorns as he held it in his palms?

that was what he was taught about love from the unhealthy surroundings he was locked in. when he met you, he discover what true love is like. he learned that love is when you let out quirky laughs that tingle his ears yet warms up his chest as he laughs along with you ; he learned that love is when you learn about soccer trick online to impress him just for you to clumsily trip, telling him that you'd love to learn more of his passion ; he learned that love is when you hold him tightly as his vulnerable side was exposed when he had failed his own expectation, validating his emotions and never resort to violence to make him quit from feeling low. love with you is what he has always read about on the fairytales storybook that he secretly kept in his room when he was a kid.

you came to him and show him that love isn't always a hard gain yet he hurt you with his action. the thought of you walking away from him suffocate him. he knew he is only imagining about it yet to not see your smile, to not hear your laughter, to not smell your heavenly fragance, to not touches your skin and to not share your warmth is something he could never want to lose.

"god, i fucked up." he cussed under his breathe as he runs into the house, looking for you.

he entered the shared bedroom, heart drop at the sight of your engagment ring placed upon your vanity table. you're not in the room, which adds up to his overthinking. when he heard the soft patterings of shower waters hitting the floor, that's when he knew you're in there. it confirmed his guess when he heard soft sniffles coming from there as he leaned his ear against the door. he was quick to undo his garments and grab your ring, entering the bathroom as quietly as possible.

"darling?"

his heart soften yet saddened at the sight of your crying nude form, standing under the shower head as you try your best to not let out too much sniffles. thank god you're still with him. he makes his way toward you, engulfing you into his chest, holding onto you as his lips raining kisses unto your wet skin.

"please forgive me, my love. i'm sorry for hurting you." he apologised, rubbing your back softly to comfort you.

"must've hurt your ego to apologise to me, huh? serve you right." you countered his words with a hint of sadness in it.

"it hurts even more if i lose you, love. i never want to lose you."

he whispered, lowering his lips to capture yours, apologising to you silently. you closed your eyes, savoring his kiss, letting his lips stiches apology unto yours, a promise to never hurt you again. he parted his lips from you, eyes looking into yours as his palm make its way to caress your cheeks. his hands then moves itself to grab yours, kissing each knuckles before he slides your ring back to its place. he sealed it with another kiss on the ring.

"please, don't leave me, love."

"i won't, darling. i'm here, forever and always."

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎

mikage reo, a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth along with a face blessed by the heaven. he has always knew that his life is well promising and had nothing to worry about. he has always been so generous of his money, be it to use on himself or use it on his friends. just as when he was with his toys when he was a toddler, always sharing it with his play dates or childhood friends. when he reached the age of entering teenager life, he is still so kind when it comes to money matters until it was when he met his friend, nagi seishiro. for once in his life, he dislike sharing, nagi is his friend and nobody could have him.

that goes on until the day he met you. when it comes to you, not even his beloved close friend could have a touch. for the very first time in his life, he is not kind with nagi when it comes to you. nagi wants to play games with you because he heard you're good at it? no need, reo is hiring a famour gamer to play with nagi. nagi would like to hear about your plant pet? no need, reo is buying him a whole nursery of cactus that varies from different species of cactus. nagi was suspicious of reo but he couldn't complaint because at least he is getting something better to ease his boredom.

reo even make it obvious to the other girls that he is yours the moment both of you made it official. reo is well known for using aesthetic hard covers for his phone but when he started dating you, he changed it to clear case, polaroid of you that's his favourite will be placed in it, displaying to others and showing off his lovely lover.

what about you? how do they know that you are mikage reo's lover? it's easy, it's those luxury branded items that you're wearing. he always make sure that most of it are custom made and limited item. it may cause him to spend a little bit extra but hey, if it's you, he'll even sacrifice the world to make sure you're always pretty and well taken care of. he knew how you love to care for yourself from the way you do your skincare, haircare, daily exercises, makeup and dressing up. he loves it as well and enjoys to indulge into it. as long as you're happy, he is happy as well.

that was until today, when he saw a frown on your pretty face. it wasn't common for you to get upset so easily, he wonder what could've cause such discomfort for you. is it the month of your menstrual cycle begin? no way, that'll be on another 2 weeks, he keep tracks on them. is it because your boss was being harsh on you? no way, he started up a business for you to run and support your cute cafe that sell fresh pastries, sweet flowers and refreshing coffee. is it because your favourite show was postponed because of the billing? no way, he made sure to purchase a year worth of membership with the highest graphic quality for you every year. so, what is it that bother you? he makes his way toward you and holds your hand only for you to pulls it away from him quickly, panic eyes staring at his. he noticed how you hide your hand behind you.

"hubby! hi!" you stuttered a little, trying your best to hide whatever you'd like to hide from him.

"you good, dearest? why won't you let me hold your hand?" he asked, his hand moving to grab yours again.

"my skin is too dry, it'd be unpleasant for you to hold them." you told him, removing your hands from his again.

"what a nonsense, you've always been perfect, dear." he praised, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"my, thank you. aren't you praising me too much, reo?"

"mm, never, dear."

he kisses your lips this time, distracting you from his hand caressing yours, pulling away when he finally caught unto the reason of you hiding your hands from him. he looks into your eyes, scrunching up his nose when he noticed you're getting a bit shy from his full attention and affection.

"what?" you pouted.

"you're so cute and silly too, dear." reo teased, giggling when you playfully frowned at him.

he fish out a velvet box from his back pocket, showing it to you as he opens them. inside, is your wedding ring, the one that you thought you had lost it. you gasp and look at him.

"how?! i thought i lost it!"

"i took them for a cleaning, remember? how could you be so forgetful, dear."

reo smiles as he gets onto one knee, holding your hand gently as he slips it back onto your ring finger. standing up, he kisses the back of your hand. he is so amused with your expression at the moment, all flustered just like how he proposed to you before.

"why were you not telling the truth while ago, hm?" reo questioned.

"knowing you, you'd buy new ones if i truly lost it— "

"why, of course. i'll buy you as many rings as possible, as long as you're happy."

of course he would, how could you doubt him? he is your husband who love to spoil you a little too much.

"thank you, but i'd love to lower the usage of our money, you know?"

"why? is your cafe's billing getting higher? i'll— "

"reo hubby, no. little mikage is on the way, of course we should be spending wisely, right?"

"oh, right, yea— wait. what?!"

you laughed at his reaction. my, your husband is so entertaining.

"yes, dear. we're having a baby!"

reo laughs happily as he hugs you, carefully yet tightly.

"i'm calling nagi, he needs to know that he is an uncle now!"

and you know you did the right thing when you accepted his ring of promises and afraid of losing it. he promised to make you the happiest person ever and he did fulfilled his promises. or should you say, he has always been fulfilling his promises and sealed his promise to eternity.

© HIRAGIKISS 2024 | do not repost my contents to any other platforms.

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[vandal-flower]

I Don't Talk That Much!

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Plot: Looking back at your boyfriend's statement about himself, you realize he is an absolute chatterbox.

Warnings: Just Fluff!

"I'm really quiet, I don't talk that much."

"Oh, I see."

That was the conversation you and your boyfriend, Yoichi Isagi, had a few months ago when you first met him.

Before you, was a Yoichi that was talking nonstop about soccer. Something along the lines of-

"I'll destroy that Kaiser bastard with this."

"Kurona and I work well together, but I need to learn how to do things by myself."

"In order to do that, I need to become better this."

And some lovely mentions of his soccer idol, Noel Noa. Saying how cool, awesome and how he is never fazed in front of his enemies. How he wishes to become like him.

He looked so happy too, a childish smile on his face took place most of the time. You found it cute.

A sinister one would also show up now and then when he mentions "devouring" Michael Kaiser. You found it very handsome.

Whenever you try to speak, he interrupts you. Telling you to wait, and you do.

You look back at that conversation you had with him and find his statement an absolute lie. A false accusation made by himself.

"You lied to me Ichi.", you say catching his attention, causing him to stop talking.

"What, how did I lie?", he asked with a worried expression on his face. As he should.

"You're such a chatterbox, you told me that you don't talk much. Liar-Ichi.", you said, faking your sadness and self pity at his deception.

"Wait, that's why you're upset with me?", he looked at you with slight annoyance. "I thought it was something serious!"

You laughed to yourself as he looked at you with shock and annoyance. He soon laughed as well. "But I really don't talk that much, I only act like this around people I'm fond with."

"Are you sure, or are just saying that as an excuse?", you questioned. "I'm serious!", he pleads.

"I'll ask your parents where you got this chatterbox attitude from, maybe Bachira too."

"Please don't, I'll be teased for years about this!"

"Even better."

"(Name)!"

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