rintoshi19

[rintoshi19]

kainess (toxic kaiser au)

first time writing my cuties heh..

tw; toxicity, (slight) cheating?, suggestive

1.5k words

The house was quiet—unfeeling, eerie, too quiet. It was the kind of silence that only settles in after a brutal storm, with dark clouds still looming overhead. Ness leaned against the wall, arms folded tightly across his chest. His eyes were shut, lips trembling with pure shock. Tears spilled freely—each drop of saltwater gliding down his soft, rounded cheeks, glittering like crystals under the glow of his phone screen.

4 missed calls.

He wanted to answer—he really did. He wanted to press the button, call Kaiser back, and tell him how much he loved him. That he didn’t want him to leave. That he wanted to stay by Kaiser’s side forever, to lose himself in that warm embrace until time stood still. But he knew better.

Ness had seen the way Kaiser’s eyes lingered on others—bodies curvier, sexier, undeniably tempting. He’d caught him texting people in secret, again and again. All the while, Kaiser controlled Ness like a puppet, forbidding him from texting, calling, or even hugging friends and family. Everyone had been cut off.

He was trapped. Like a bird with no wings in an open cage.

Ness had a kind heart. He believed in people—especially in Kaiser. Every time Kaiser came crawling back, begging on his knees for another chance, Ness found himself folding. How could he say no to someone so breathtakingly beautiful? But under that polished exterior lay something vicious, something toxic—like a predator waiting for its prey.

Ring. Ring. The phone buzzed in his hand again.

He hesitated, torn. Should he answer? Should he fall for the same trap again? His heart screamed yes, even as his mind whispered no. He loved Kaiser—he still did. So, he answered.

“Hello?” Ness said softly.

On the other end, that voice. Raw. Husky. The kind of voice that could pull someone to their knees with just a few words.

“Baby,” Kaiser cooed, “you know I didn’t mean any of it. You’re the only one I love—the only one in my heart.”

Lies. Every word.

Ness knew that. Of course he did. But why did he still want to believe him so badly? Why did he crave the feel of Kaiser’s calloused hands cupping his face, stroking his cheek, kissing him with lips so sweet they felt like honey-dripped poison?

He didn’t want the usual kiss—the rough, dominating one that felt more like devouring than loving. He didn’t want to feel like prey anymore, passively enduring the swirling battle of tongues. No. He wanted tenderness.

He wanted Kaiser to kiss him like he meant it. To let him breathe. To hold him like something precious. To look into his eyes and stay there.

Ness’s voice cracked. “Why do you always do this to me, Kaiser? I’m so tired. Tired of the arguing, the fake apologies, the way you twist every word. I’m just... tired.”

“Give me one more chance, baby,” Kaiser pleaded, his voice faster now, like instinct. “You know I love you. You know I can’t go a day without thinking about you. Open the door. I’m outside.”

Ness froze.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that. Not now. Not yet. Every part of him screamed not to open the door.

And yet— His legs moved. His hand reached out. His body betrayed him, pulled by love, habit, or hope.

He was already at the doorknob.

Ness laid his hand on it, turned the handle, and the door creaked open. Standing before him was a tall, looming figure that towered over him—it was Kaiser.

Without warning, a large, calloused hand shot out and grabbed Ness by the throat. Kaiser shoved him further into the house. With his left hand, he seized both of Ness’s arms, pinning him against the wall as he choked him.

Kaiser cooed, "Baby, you know I love you, right? So why have you been ignoring my calls and messages, huh? You’ve been a bad boy. And bad boys deserve punishment, don’t they, baby?"

Tears streamed down Ness’s face. His eyes were red and swollen, his breath ragged between sniffles. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t punish me," he whimpered.

Kaiser voice turned sharp, predatory. "Bad boys don’t get to talk back, yeah? Just listen—and be good. No hassle, alright, baby?"

Drawn by his own words, Kaiser leaned in, lips puckering—preparing for a kiss. Or was it something else?

His tongue dragged slowly across Ness’s lips, leaving them slick with saliva. Ness flinched, his mouth parting slightly under the pressure. Kaiser took the opportunity, his tongue slipping in, exploring, overwhelming. Atlas tried to resist, but Kaiser’s strength made resistance feel futile.

The kiss deepened—fierce, unrelenting, consuming. Kaiser devoured every inch of him, leaving Ness trembling, breathless, lips swollen and parted as they pulled away for air.

“Fuck,” Kaiser groaned, voice thick with hunger. “I can never take my eyes off you… you’re such a little slut.”

Kaiser’s grip on Ness’s waist tightened, unrelenting. In one swift motion, he flipped Ness around and lifted him as if he weighed nothing at all.

If Ness had the clarity to think through the haze, he might have admitted it was—strangely—hot. The way Kaiser’s broad shoulders tensed, how the veins traced down each powerful limb, especially those thick, veined fingers that gripped with purpose. It all sent a shiver through him.

Soon enough, Ness was jolted back to reality as he found himself gently pushed onto the soft, plush bed. Kaiser  followed close behind, his presence heavy and consuming—like a storm cloud about to burst. The air between them thickened, laced with unspoken tension and the haunting weight of everything left unsaid.

Kaiser loomed over Ness, stripped down to his bare chest, skin glistening in the dim light. The definition of his muscles caught the shadows just right, a physical reminder of his power—one that both captivated and intimidated. Ness’s breath hitched, his body tensing beneath Kaiser as he looked up, eyes wide and unsure.

“Don’t,” Ness whispered, his voice barely audible.

But Kaiser’s fingers moved with practiced ease, brushing against the hem of Ness’s shirt. The touch wasn’t rough—but it wasn't tender either. There was a desperation behind it, a need to reclaim something already broken.

Ness’s hands trembled as he reached up to stop him, his voice cracking. “Why do you always do this, Kaiser? Why do you come back just to take more of me?”

For a moment, Kaiser paused. His eyes searched Ness’s face—not with love, but with hunger and confusion, as if trying to understand why the person who always said yes was finally hesitating.

“I miss you,” Kaiser said, voice low and raspy. “I need you.”

Ness turned his head, heart pounding. “You don’t need me. You need control.”

And just like that, the heat between them chilled. The illusion cracked. And Ness finally realized—he wasn’t afraid of being alone. He was afraid of being loved the wrong way.

Ness barely had time to breathe.

One moment he was standing in the doorway, heart stammering against his ribs, and the next, he was back in the bedroom—pressed against the mattress, the air filled with the stench of sex, warm with Kaiser’s scent. The world around Ness blurred. Everything blurred. The lights, the shadows, the weight of everything they’d never resolved—it all collided in a dizzying moment of their fervent connection.

Kaiser hovered above him, shirtless, skin flushed and warm, the sharp lines of his body casting shadows across Ness’s soft, trembling frame. His breath was hot against Ness’s neck, and the way his fingers grazed over Ness’s skin sent an involuntary shiver running down his spine.

“Why do you always let me back in?” Kaiser whispered, voice low, eyes dark. “You know how this ends.”

Ness’s throat tightened. His lips parted, not quite knowing what he wanted to say—what he should say. Every nerve in his body was on edge, aware of the closeness, the history, the fire they kept returning to no matter how much it burned.

He looked up at Kaiser, eyes searching. “Because I want to believe you’ll change,” he said softly. “Because for a second, I still think maybe this time... you’ll mean it.”

Kaiser leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. His hands rested on either side of Ness, caging him in. His touch wasn’t forceful—but it was possessive. Gentle fingers ran along Ness’s jawline, guiding his gaze up.

“Then let me prove it,” Kaiser murmured, breath ghosting over Ness’s lips.

There was heat in the room now—not just from skin and closeness, but from the tension thick in the air. Ness could feel it pulsing in his chest. This wasn’t just about lust and desire. It was about longing, about being seen, about the dangerous comfort of returning to someone who knew how to undo you in all the wrong ways.

And still, he tilted his chin up, heart pounding in his throat.

“Then stop taking,” Ness said, barely louder than a breath, “and start giving.”