i see, you want kaiser to take your fingers in hus mouth huh? to feel him nip and bite at your skin, to leave indents like a ring, marking you as his in every way, to shiver when his tongue caresses your fingertips, the warmth and wetness, to feel him tasting you, devouring you, and you can never escape his grip
??????? Um excuse me what the actual fuck do you want me dead. Just say if you hate me… Sure what the hell… I’ve been meaning to write smt w my stupid finger issues for this bastard too… it was his turn
info: Michael Kaiser/reader. Reader has an unidentified issue with their ring finger which attracts all kinds of wrong assumptions from a certain individual.
Warnings + notes : mentions of red string of fate, implied cutting off circulation and causing ischemia/tissue death, dacryphilia if u squint… not a healthy relationship these two… Kaiser as his own warning tbh. Nothing in explicit detail as far as I’m concerned but lmk if I should add anything else to warnings
The air is tense, like lacking in the molecules that make of what it is humans normally breath.
Empty space that suffocates, that steals and scratches at your body, lungs aching for a moment of relief— yet all your turmoil is for naught, so long as blue eyes pierce through yours, holding your person in captive until one breaks down.
His hand firm on your wrist, Michael Kaiser watches you with great interest, body moving on command, he doesn’t need to look elsewhere to know where to move and what to do.
It is one thing to have the man clinging to you, nibbling at your skin, but this feels far too intimate, uncomfortable, like he is skinning you alive and getting under, nestling between the warm layers of dermis and epidermis— immortalizing where he stands in your life.
Teeth no longer graze but sink in, bite for the purpose of getting a taste, leaving a bruise. Maybe you will bleed as well, maybe he will taste iron on his lips today. It is equally intriguing and exciting, to be able to break you down in every sense of the world.
Eyes fixated on him, face scrunching up in pain, you cannot hold it in any longer to remain neutral, to show no color.
He thought it’d be aggregating to watch him leave his print on your finger, resembling all to circular indents of a ring too tight, at the root of your ring finger, oh how he was eager to see you squirm in fury and unbelief— he didn’t think you’d come down a lot earlier than this.
Instead, at the tip of your finger, your hand shakes, other fingers twitch, a squeal leaves you and you wince. Teeth biting into the inner side of your cheek, he wonders how the rest of the marks will bloom on your skin later tonight, if you’ll snap eventually, what you’ll sound like when you cannot hold it in any longer.
It is a funny thing he muses, how ring fingers are viewed. They are said to be connecting to the heart, hence the rings worn on them to signal two souls’ unifying. Though not so clear in many of the tells that come and go, the strings of fate are bound there, tied around the same level as the exact spot that draws out the real you, emotions reeking out, too much for your body to contain, too heavy to handle and hide.
Every few seconds, Kaiser disturbs the pace he has set, adding a little more pressure or taking away. He bites a deeper once more, feeling the soft of your flesh knead and take shape under his teeth, following his lead in sweet compliance— he spots tears gathering in your eyes, pooling up but refusing to drag down.
Resilient and stubborn until the very edge, just like the one who carries them with agony and pride.
He watches as a wave of emotions pass through your eyes, fear and pain most prominent. And Kaiser knows, though your eyes refuse to look down, what pushes you down is the growing pain as that string tied around your finger tightens with each pressure, until all there is left is ischemia and a permanent mark of no point of return.
