#Michael seems like he is just trying to get through it

[bokutosbabe]

hii i was wondering if i could have kaiser 🍰 for 'More Than A Married Couple, But Not Lovers' event thank you!

Of course!! You didn't pick a trope, so i picked one for you, hope you don't mind!

a michael kaiser apple slice :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° the lingering question kept me up

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — michael kaiser x gn! reader, gn! reader, rivals-to-lovers, arrogany and rude kaiser, hot headed! reader, reader calls kaiser a prince once, bickering, fighting, set in a high school setting

♡ synopsis — every girl wanted to get paired with michael kaiser, except you. and isn't it just your luck that that's exactly what ends up happening.

If there were a ranking of people you’d least want to be paired with in a fake marriage simulation, Michael Kaiser would sit comfortably at the top.

The smug, arrogant soccer star had been a thorn in your side since the day he transferred to the academy. He wasn’t just good—he was incredible—and he knew it, lording his talent over everyone with a devil-may-care attitude and a smirk that could ignite arguments in seconds.

So, naturally, when your name was called alongside his for the month-long program, your first reaction was disbelief.

“This must be a nightmare,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the instructor, even if they didn't care how you felt

“Nightmares are just dreams, sweetheart,” Kaiser said, flashing you his trademark grin.

The first week was nothing short of a disaster.

Kaiser treated the simulation like a game he was determined to win, turning every task into an opportunity to assert dominance.

“You call this cooking?” he teased, poking at the pasta you’d made for dinner.

“Maybe I’d try harder if my husband didn’t lounge around like a spoiled prince,” you shot back, slamming your fork down.

“Ah, but I am a spoiled prince,” he said with a dramatic bow. “And you’re lucky to be married to royalty.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they hurt. It wasn’t just his constant teasing—it was the way he seemed to glide through life without effort, as if nothing could touch him.

But what infuriated you most was how easily he charmed everyone else. While you were busy struggling through the tasks, Kaiser had your classmates laughing, the instructors nodding in approval, and even the simulation’s pretend landlord eating out of his hand.

Things changed during the second week.

The task was to build a piece of furniture together—a deceptively simple project designed to test communication skills. Predictably, the two of you argued the entire time.

“Kaiser, you’re putting the screws in the wrong way.”

“No, I’m putting them in the efficient way. You’re just slow.”

“Efficient? You mean completely wrong?”

An hour later, the bookshelf you’d been building collapsed in a heap of wood and screws. You sank to the floor, burying your face in your hands. “This is hopeless.��

“Hey,” Kaiser said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s not that bad.”

You looked up, surprised to find him crouched beside you. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something almost… sincere.

“You’re good at this stuff,” he admitted. “I’ll follow your lead this time.”

The words caught you off guard. For the first time, it felt like he was taking you seriously, not just treating this as another game to win.

Working together after that was easier. He still teased you, of course—this was Kaiser—but there was less bite to it, and you found yourself smiling despite your best efforts.

By the third week, something had shifted between you.

Kaiser, as it turned out, wasn’t just good at soccer. He was good at listening, too. When you vented about the program’s ridiculous expectations, he didn’t interrupt with a sarcastic comment or brush you off. Instead, he sat beside you, offering thoughtful advice and the occasional joke to lighten the mood.

“You’re not as insufferable as I thought,” you admitted one evening, after finishing the day’s tasks.

“High praise,” he said with a laugh. “I could say the same about you.”

It wasn’t long before the teasing turned into something softer, more playful. The line between rivalry and something else began to blur, and you found yourself looking forward to his smirks, his quips, even the way he always managed to steal the last slice of pizza.

The final week of the simulation brought the ultimate test: a mock anniversary dinner, complete with speeches about what you’d learned from your “partner.”

You’d planned to keep your speech simple—something polite but detached. But as you stood in front of the class, looking at Kaiser’s confident smirk, the words you’d prepared evaporated.

“I thought this simulation would be a nightmare,” you began, earning a few laughs. “And, at first, it was. But somewhere along the way, I realized… maybe it wasn’t all bad. Kaiser might be arrogant and impossible, but he’s also… surprising. He’s thoughtful when he wants to be, and he pushes me to be better, even when it drives me crazy. So, I guess… I’m glad it was him.”

You sat down, your face burning, and avoided looking at him.

When it was his turn to speak, he stood with his usual flair, hands in his pockets and a cocky grin on his face.

“I could say a lot of things about my lovely partner,” he began, shooting you a wink. “But the truth is, they're smarter, stronger, and more stubborn than anyone I’ve ever met. And if I had to do this again, I’d choose them every time.”

Your breath caught, and for once, his grin didn’t feel like an act.

The simulation ended with the two of you earning the highest score in the class, but it was the goodbye that stayed with you.

“You know,” Kaiser said as he helped you pack up the last of your things, “we make a good team.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, but your voice was softer than usual.

He stepped closer, his usual confidence tempered with something quieter. “Maybe we don’t have to stop being a team.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… let’s find out what happens next,” he said, his smirk softening into a genuine smile.

For once, you didn’t have a comeback. Instead, you nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.”

And as he walked you to the door, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Michael Kaiser wasn’t so bad after all.

i love a good rivals to lovers

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[ingravinoveritas]

I just had this video sent to me of Michael and Anna on the red carpet at the Oliviers last weekend (originally posted by Red Carpet TV on Twitter). A lot going on here for sure, but I will leave it for folks to discuss in the comments...

[skitskatdacat63]

2005 French Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso (ft. Kimi Räikkönen & Michael Schumacher)(my personal post-race highlights)

+ bonus uh...whatever Michael's doing here

[miyukisu]

Between Me and You .ᐟ

❤︎ | While your other friends are enjoying themselves on your little camping trip, you and Kaiser were secretly fucking around (3k wc) ╰ feat. michael kaiser (bllk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 6 | kinktober masterlist

tags - exhibitionism, car fun, fingering, hand jobs, kaiser is a bit desperate, camping trip, p in v, breeding, p*rn with plot, profanity, kaiser and reader banter a bit, friends/enemies-ish to lovers

minors do not interact

"Can you stop fucking moving for a second?"

A tone of annoyance filled his voice as he gripped your waist, effectively keeping you in place.

You two found yourselves in a rather interesting position—at the back of your friend's car with nothing else but the equipment you guys brought for the camping trip. You and Kaiser just pulled the short end of the stick hence why the others were enjoying a little bit of space in the cramped car, while you two had none at all.

"Move one more time and I swear to God—"

"What? You'll get harder?" you tease.

Kaiser clicked his tongue. He was already regretting this trip. The first half of the journey was rather peaceful as he probably fell asleep. And maybe it was because he wasn't conscious to keep his "thing" in control—combined with the fact that you had been rubbing against him this entire time—but it wasn't surprising that he was slowly getting hard.

You thought it would be funny to mess with him; you two had that kind of odd relationship anyway. So you rolled your ass against him, pretending that the road was bumpier than it actually is... until he woke up and became aware of the situation.

"I'm not hard," he denies. But the stiff feeling poking at you from behind told you otherwise.

You simply grinded your hips against him again in response—earning a low groan from him.

"Ya alright back there, man?" one of your friends asks, looking in the rear view mirror.

Kaiser breathes in. "Yeah, one of the tent poles just kept poking me and it hurt."

"Something's poking me too," you add, but Kaiser quickly pinches the side of your waist to stop your mischief.

Your friend laughs, completely unaware of what you two were doing at the back of his car. "My bad. Y'all just try your best to get comfortable, a'ight? We got about another hour on the road."

A whole entire hour.

You could either torture yourself by dwelling on the fact that your position was uncomfortable or... you could have fun. But it seems like Kaiser had the same idea as he slowly lifted up the skirt of your sundress. Your eyes widened, fully knowing that the tides have now turned against you.

"Let's see if you like it," he whispers in your ear. His breath felt warm, contrasting the chilly air of the airconditioned vehicle.

The panties you wore today matched the color of your sundress, except he can't really see it with you sitting on his lap like that. Though it hardly mattered. It was coming off later anyway.

He swiped a finger along your core, noticing how damp it had gotten. Kaiser elicits a low chuckle, whispering in your ear again, "Look at how wet you got from grinding on me. Slut."

There was no comeback; how could you deny that? Especially as he presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing it slowly. You were about to moan and fall back against his chest, but his other hand stopped you.

"Hey, remember he can see us through the mirror, right? I'd suggest you behave unless you want them to see you whoring yourself out for me."

You swallowed back your wanton moans. The fact that he had his hand on your pussy so shamelessly was embarrassing enough; you didn't need for the others to find that out too.

But for as embarrassing as it is, you made no effort to swat his hand away. In fact, you let him go on. You let him rub your sensitive clit faster. And you let him hook a finger in the gusset, pulling the fabric out of the way.

He swiped his finger again and it had him snickering. Kaiser pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as way to show his amusement. "Holy shit. You're dripping for me."

This time, it was you clicking your tongue at him. But again, you were at a loss for words. You were too focused on the way he played with your pussy and his dick that seemed to be getting even harder. It was impossible to ignore how it pressed against the flesh of your ass.

"What? Got nothing to say now? Where did all your attitude go—"

Turning to face him slightly, you pleaded. "Just take responsibility for it... please?"

You swore you felt his dick twitch through his sweats. Kaiser gulped down, not expecting for that kind of response. He wanted you to fight back—be your usual feisty self. What was he to do now?

"Say it again," he whispered lowly.

"Kaiser... please?" you obeyed.

He hated how easily he gave in as well. All he needed was your honeyed pleas and he was sold.

Kaiser clicked his tongue, knowingly facing a predicament. On one hand, he wanted to listen to his lust infested brain. But it was dangerous. He was about to finger fuck you in a car filled with your dearest friends after all.

His free hand held you by the arm. "Be quiet... or else."

You gulped. It was going to be a difficult task, but you'd rather keep your mouth shut than get no relief at all. He slowly slid one finger in as if to test the waters.

As he expected, it was warm and tight. It made his mind race with all sorts of lewd images. He silently cursed himself, knowing that he was in no position to give himself the same kind of relief.

Perhaps, seeing you enjoy yourself on his fingers would get him off... for now at least.

Though his mind was preoccupied on what could and couldn't be—he absentmindedly pushed in two fingers without warning. The way his thumb resumed to rubbing circles on your clit while he pistoned his fingers out of you felt too practiced—like he had done this thing plenty of times in the past.

He skillfully and precisely brought you to orgasm—all the while you were fighting for your life to keep your sounds at bay. Hell, you were sure that you were biting down on your lips hard enough to make it bleed.

Kaiser let you ride out your high, still pushing his fingers in and out… slowly. A breathy rasp leaves his lips as he throws his head back against the seat. To some extent, part of him felt liberated too.

A boundary was crossed—one that you two teetered on for what felt like months. His dick was aching, yes, but a different kind of warmth filled him.

Hope? He wanted to call it that, but it felt pathetic somehow. Kaiser felt a bit stupid—thinking too hard about something else while you’re right here, sitting on his lap all fucked out.

“Enjoyed yourself?” He whispered to you once more.

“Shut up, ass hat.”

He chuckles. “That’s what I get? After fing—“

“Shut the fuck up. I’m serious,” you sneer.

And he did; awkward silence enveloped the two of you as you sat uncomfortably—Kaiser still with his hard on and you with your ruined underwear. All you wanted at this point was to get out of the fucking car.

────────────

“Hey, so uh, where did Kaiser go?”

Your friends seemed to look in your direction, thinking that you of all people should know the whereabouts of the man whose lap you sat on for quite some time. However, you didn’t bother sparing them a glance as you continued to help set up camp.

“How would I know?”

Your friends looked amongst each other, slightly unconvinced by your cluelessness. But they shrugged it off—thankfully. Everyone resumed to their designated camp duties and not long after, Kaiser returned from his so-called bathroom break. Though you had a hunch on what that truly meant.

It was normal for the most part—everything went as you had envisioned it… except for the little fact that Kaiser would be avoiding you.

Here you thought that after your little stunt in the car, he’d be even more forward with you. But it seems to have an opposite effect. Every time your eyes would meet, he’d look away. You didn’t even dare talk to him because you knew he’d gloss over you.

But the fact of the matter was that—Michael Kaiser was too overwhelmed by the sudden shift in your relationship. He was trying his fucking best to keep himself in control. Otherwise, there may be consequences…

Consequences which you will soon know of.

────────────

You think the world likes to play tricks on you because why do you have to sleep in the same tent as him when there were 2? And why oh why did you have to sleep beside him? There were 4 of you inside the tent—but still—you found yourself on the same inflatable mattress, under the same blanket. Because of course, the damn thing only fit for two people.

Your friends thought it was alright considering you two have already broken the barrier of physical touch; they just didn’t know how far that REALLY meant.

As best as you tried to sleep, you felt intense eyes boring into the back of your head. You silently cursed him for not following the unspoken rule of sleeping back to back. This was just impossible.

You turned around to face him, pulling more of the blanket towards you. Your eyes were met with his. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. What the fuck’s going on with you?”

He stared blankly at you, lips pressed in a straight line. “Nothing.”

“Cut the bullshit. You’ve been avoiding me the entire time we were here after you… you…”

“After I made you cum in the car?”

The audacity of this man caused you to kick his shin. He had to bite back a pained groan to not wake up the others.

“Was that fucking necessary?” He asked. But his question was met with silence; he took it as a hard resounding yes.

A frustrated sigh spilled from his lips. "Fine. I was avoiding you because... I know I won't be able to control myself around you."

You raise your eyebrow in response, unsure of what he meant exactly. He couldn't help but pinch the bridge of his nose to express his exasperation.

"I was this close," he says while pinching his pointer and thumb together as if to show he was holding something miniscule between the pads of his fingers. "I was this close to fucking you in the car."

Your eyes widened in disbelief. This whole time you thought he had regretted his previous actions back in the car, but you had it totally backwards. It was your turn to sigh.

"You could've just told me," you countered.

"That I wanted to fuck?"

"Yeah."

...

"I wanna fuck then," he says so matter-of-factly. It was almost comical to you that it made you chuckle softly.

"What's so funny, assh—"

You cut him off by pulling him into a soft but passionate kiss. Your palm cupped his cheek and your fingers wove themselves into his silky blonde hair.

He was a good kisser—that much was to be expected. It didn't take long for him to reciprocate and then some, pulling your leg to drape over his hips.

Kaiser wanted—no, needed—you to be closer to him. He had to feel your heat, your presence, your everything.

It was almost animalistic how he tried to devour your lips. It was desperate—like a call for help. Now, you were a hundred percent sure about what he had been doing earlier when he left the group.

You pulled away, breathless. If not for the concept of breathing, you would have gone at it until morning. His bright blue eyes stared into yours.

Kaiser was eerily silent, but mostly because he didn't want to get caught doing something dirty with you in the tent. He let his actions speak for himself—his hand lowering to grope the flesh of your ass.

He squeezed it harshly and without restraint; he was way past that. But he decided that it wasn't enough.

He slowly cupped your pussy with his slender fingers. Surely, he was more excited than you were.

"We can't..." your voice trails off—partially due to disappointment, but mostly because he began rubbing your clit again.

"Why not?"

"What? Are you not aware of the two other people sleeping in here?"

"The fuck do we do then?"

But it would seem that he had no plans of letting you speak. Somehow, his fingers found their way in—past your cotton shorts and past the sorry excuse for panties that you wore.

He had been there earlier, so he wasted no time plunging his fingers as if they belonged there. The slight squelching sound made your stomach knot in fear; you could only hope that your friends were sleeping deeply enough.

"What do we do, pretty?" he asked again, though softer.

But his tone betrayed his actions. He stared at you like he wasn't doing anything dirty to you under that blanket.

"I... we... we can't"

Kaiser hummed. "We can't huh?" But he continues to bully his fingers into you and it made your head spin. Words had failed you at this point, so you held on to his arm—failing miserably at stopping him. But you both knew that you wouldn't want him to stop anyway.

The impending climax clouded your judgement. Part of you felt oddly fine if your friends did end up waking and catching you in the act.

The fear had morphed into forbidden excitement.

But it was too soon as he pulled his hand out, leaving you high and dry.

"You think you can get to cum again after being so selfish in the car?"

He tried his best to remain firm, but the muffled whines you let out slowly chipped at his resolve.

"Nuh uh. You gotta be fair," he argued.

At the very least, you were easy to talk to. You pushed him to lie on his back as you propped yourself up on your shoulder. Your palm caressed his body before sliding down to his aching cock. Finally free from its confines, Kaiser let out a strained sigh of relief.

The blanket was a useless barrier; it barely hid his hard length and the motions of your hand.

You chose to go at a painfully slow pace—it made his head spin. But it was so much better than using his own hand that he found it hard to complain at all.

"Fuckkkk," he drawled out.

His face of pleasure was mesmerizing—eyes glued shut with his jaw hanging loosely. It motivated you... somehow. Speeding up the pace, you eventually brought him to orgasm. His body flinched, but he tried to stop himself—not wanting to show how badly you affected him.

You kept his cock in your hand, amazed that it was still hard even after cumming once. "Shit... how are you still hard?"

"Been thinking about this shit all day... How can I not be?"

His honest words sent a jolt to your core. You thought it was impossible to get even wetter. But he managed to do the impossible.

"Fuck—just turn around, will you?"

He asked, but it sounded more like a command. Kaiser got on to his side once more and guided you to do the same so that your back was against his chest. His warm breath fanned the skin of your neck.

His heart was thumping so hard that you could feel it reverberate in your own body.

"Hold your leg up," he commanded again. And you obeyed like the good girl that you are for him.

Kaiser deftly pushed the fabric that was in his way, lining up his cock against your entrance. He pushed only the tip in, but that alone was tantalizing.

You could hear the way his breath hitched. His hand replaced yours as he held up your leg himself. His long fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh, keeping it high enough so he can fuck into you better.

Slowly, he rolled his hips—getting at least half of his length in. You almost let a moan slip out, but you were cautious enough to slap your hand over your mouth.

Checking to see if they're still asleep, Kaiser figured it was safe enough to sheath himself completely inside you. And he swore it was heaven.

Even he wanted to moan. But the prospect of being discovered and stopped abruptly prevented him from making any sound at all. He wanted this. He wanted it badly. Nothing's going to stop it now.

He languidly rolled his hips back and forth—fucking into you without another thought. His cock stretched you out in a way you've never felt before. But it was good... way too good.

It was a crime not to be a moaning mess right now. The slow and precise thrusts turned into frenzied fucking—like this was going to be the first and last time he'd be able to feel your pussy around his cock.

"Shit... this is way too good. I could get addicted," he whispered. "Gonna make me cum twice in one night."

Although you wanted to respond, it was impossible without moaning like a bitch in heat and getting you two caught. The best you could do was to clench around him.

Kaiser bit into your shoulder, suppressing his own grunts. You felt his grip on your thigh tighten substantially.

"Fuuuuck... can I cum inside? Can I?"

He shuddered. "Please? Shit... I won't last longer."

Your mind was swirling—not a single coherent thought could be formed other than a single word.

"Yes."

You whispered it—over and over again into the dead air. And as if on cue, his hips jerked up, fully shoving himself into your deepest parts and shooting hot ropes of cum.

He filled you up nicely—just as how he had been imagining in the car. Though, his daydreams paled in comparison to the real thing.

Again, he let you ride out your orgasm, not pulling out just yet.

"Hey... wanna see how many more rounds we can do before they wake up?"

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note I cannot write exhibitionism that well

[rindreamery]

like a fever, i ache for you.

how intensely the blue lock men yearn for you. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, michael kaiser 𝜗𝜚 content: suggestive

note. drove myself insane while writing this actually 🧍🏻‍♀️WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN

itoshi rin sees you in every daydream.

every time rin closes his eyes, you’re there— it’s as if the image of you is permanently burned into the space behind his eyelids, like a never ending dream. (yet, he never wants to wake up from it.) the mere sight of you makes his heart burn and his head spin, and that desperate feeling of wanting you bleeds into his fingertips that makes him reach for you in his sleep. you trap him in his own mind. it feels as if you consume his every thought and occupy the space of every moment he’s awake. you’re a distraction, but one he can’t seem to get enough of.

when he blinks, you’re there, and everything blurs together. he starts to lose sense of where you end and he begins— you’ve become a part of him.

the concept of you even begins to seep into his passions, into his goals. rin thinks of you when he’s on the field, and he can’t deny the rush of adrenaline that shoots through his body at the thought of you cheering for him. he’s hooked to the feeling, he needs more. the thought that you’re only thinking of him too at that exact moment— watching him, holding his dreams close to your heart— that you’re both thinking of each other. connected. it’s a dream that drives him to try even harder.

because you’re not just a distraction anymore; you’ve become his sole focus.

during his next game, he plays with the image of you patiently waiting for him at the entrance of the tunnel. so when he catches his breath after a hard match, his body on the brink of collapsing and covered in sweat, it’s not the sweet taste of victory that revives him. it’s not the cheers of the crowd, praises of his name falling from their lips, that brings him back to life. no— it’s the thought of you. close and real, hand pressed against his chest as you lean in, with your warm skin pressing against his own as you whisper into his ear, “i knew you could do it.”

he knows he'll dream of that feeling from now on too, of your breath against his ear. he can’t escape you— but he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to.

itoshi sae searches for you in the crowd.

without fail, sae’s eyes will always gravitate towards you— even in the chaos of the stadium, even when you think you’re lost in the blur of the people surrounding you. his eyes always seem to find yours. when he finally catches sight of you in his jersey, it’s hard to miss the way his gaze sharpens with intensity, his eyes darkening in a way you’ve never seen before. it’s electric; the only word that could describe the feeling he gets when he sees that you’re staring back at him with the same intensity.

something about you— the way you proudly wear his jersey, and the look of pride that swims in your eyes as you look at him— awakens something deep in him.

sae feels a satisfaction he's never quite felt before you. it’s a possessive and all-consuming feeling. like his ego is inflated to its limits and makes him uncharacteristically greedy for you. his thoughts become filled with the need to become the center of your world, to stake some sort of claim on you so no one else can. (he wants his teammates to see what he comes home to every night.) this feeling that makes him want to throw away all rationale, and before he realizes it, it's this feeling that has him walking over to you before the match even begins.

he doesn't care for the alarmed look on your face as he rips your (his) ring off your finger. around the two of you, shocked gasps fill the stadium, as he loops your ring into his necklace. but they become lost in the background, and his focus is on you. "look at me," and when he brings his necklace up to his lips, your ring now dangling by the string, his eyes never leave yours. there’s an almost dangerous edge to it now— his eyes gleaming possessively at you.

he wants you to think of this moment, to embed it in your thoughts, and crave for him the same way he craves for you.

nagi seishiro can't stop staring at your lips.

light pink lip gloss looks the best on you. it’s a thought that clouds nagi’s mind every time he sees them. the way its glossiness catches the light, making the soft pink of your lips stand out and give it a subtle, irresistible fullness. they’re so plump, inviting, that it becomes dangerously intoxicating. (it must be on purpose, he often thinks, because you smile every time you're applying it on.) he doesn’t care if you notice the fact that he’s unable to fight the urge when his eyes flicker towards them— like it’s impossible to tear his eyes away from them— he wants you to notice.

they’re just so alluring, yet troubling, the way it gets his heart pumping in excitement.

the jealous part of him wants to be the only one to see you like this. because there’s just something about the way you react to him, something about the look in your eyes when you catch on to his wandering gaze. he’s entirely drawn to the way your breath hitches just a little when his eyes flick down to your lips, and then back to your eyes. and the way the corner of your lips pulls into a little smirk at this, eyes focused on his, as your tongue teasingly drags across the gloss to get a taste. his mind becomes overcome with thoughts of you— what would they taste like? would it be something fruity, like strawberry? or maybe something even sweeter, like birthday cake?

but you never give him the satisfaction of knowing, and it pulls him in even deeper. you push away from him, every time, and it’s maddening. it’s always with the same sweet smile and playful glint in your eyes, that you tell him, “it was nice talking to you.” then you’re turning around, leaving him behind.

nagi’s left wondering what it would be like, to see if that sweetness on your lips tastes as inviting as it looks.

mikage reo thinks of you in every song.

with every beat, every lyric, with every tune that floods reo’s ears— there you are, vivid in his mind, as if you were woven deep into the addicting melody. it’s as if the lyrics were written with you in mind, and he’s forever stuck thinking of you. his heart burns for you in the songs that you send, and he clings to every playlist you share. he imagines you in these lovesick songs— having you in his arms, intertwining his fingers with yours as you dance slowly to the tune— like his mind is desperately trying to tell him something he’s still too afraid to say out loud. it’s a silent confession, words he can never bring himself to say out loud, spilling from the speakers instead.

he plays the same song on repeat; he wants to keep hearing your name in the lyrics, and to feel the ghost of your presence as if you’re right there with him.

but as silent as his affections are, reo doesn’t want his desperate longing to be one-sided. he wants to worm his way into your every thought, invade your mind, the same exact way you had done with his. he wants you to see flashes of him when you hear a familiar tune, to smile to yourself whenever you realize it’s his favorite song playing in the background of a random store.

so reo pours his heart into a playlist for you. "these songs remind me of you," and to him, it’s enough. he hopes you can hear everything he feels in the space between the lyrics, to read between the lines of the words as they dance across your screen. every song is a dedication to his love for you. to him, it’s a love letter he can never bring himself to write but can’t help and send. he doesn’t want to speak it out loud— this playlist, with a strange mix of soft longing and quiet desire, does the work for him.

it’s a playlist of his soul’s quietest confessions, and he hopes you can hear how much his heart longs for you.

michael kaiser is haunted by thoughts of your touch.

kaiser doesn’t know when it started— the obsession, the craving for you, the fervent need to feel your skin on his. maybe it was when your fingertips grazed his hand as you passed him a water bottle, lasting for a second at most, but sending sparks flying across his skin where you touched. or maybe it was when you put your hand against his back, palms pressed firmly into the planes of his muscles, as you guided him out of the way (because he was blocking you, but he chooses to ignore that detail.) you’re his manager; you’re simply doing your job.

but he’s started to find himself stuck in the fantasy of your touch— imagining the way your fingers would trace over his tattoos, or having them run through his hair as you brush it out of his face.

and his breath always catches in his throat as he imagines the sensation, having to swallow at how dry and constricted his throat becomes. he thinks of the warmth of your hands, the way your fingers would subtly dance on his skin, and he shivers. he imagines that you wouldn’t rush—no, you’d take it slow. you would let it linger, and maybe he would press his hands over yours to trap it there. just to savor the feeling.

his fantasies of you could never compare to the real thing, though, he realizes one day.

he’s sat on the bench in front of you, tense with heightened sensitivity. the surface of his skin feels like it's on flames from your words, “your tattoos are so pretty,” and from the way your index finger trace over the inked vines that wrap around his arms. his stomach starts to form tight coils as your fingers travel up and up— at the feeling of your thumbs grazing his jaw as you brush his hair out of the way to look at the blue rose — and he’s sucking in a harsh breath as he tries to keep himself grounded. to keep himself from losing his mind. and when you pull away, he can't ignore the emptiness the washes over him.

his heart is greedy and insatiable; he's never satisfied. now that he’s gotten a taste of what it feels like, he finds himself wanting even more of you.

© rindreamery, 2024

[amomentsescape]

Slashers React to You Being Harassed

Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words

A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!

Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.

Michael Myers

You were honestly a little scared

Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man

Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own

Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby

He was a blatant and proud stalker

So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-

Welp

The man is now dead with a slit throat

That was quick

"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"

He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home

"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest

He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks

Jason Voorhees

This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you

You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two

But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood

You scream

The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer

"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."

He just tilts his head at you

You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now

Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning

He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out

Brahms Heelshire

You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line

So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you

And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house

Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight

So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment

You screamed

It lasted a few seconds

But the man didn't seem fazed

"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said

"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him

The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground

Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock

"Thank you-" you started

Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house

He didn't let you go outside for a while after that

Billy Loomis

You were about ready to punch this man yourself

But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone

This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you

But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger

A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds

After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you

"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy

It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion

"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"

Billy avoided your gaze

"Were you stalking me?"

"I like to call it, observing"

You let out a groan

Stu Macher

You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself

This boy is glued at your hip 24/7

The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say

Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long

So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark

"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely

How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next

But this man was pissing you off so...

"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"

And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest

Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside

He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time

Eric Draven

You were honestly getting freaked out by this man

In a city like this, anyone could be hurt

But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building

"Thank you," you murmured

"What was that?" the man spat back

You couldn't help but smile a bit

"You're about to get your ass kicked"

He just laughed at you

Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind

He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante

"Hi"

The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe

And he continued to be struck another 17 times

Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red

"You didn't have to kill him," you said

Eric just shrugged

"Oops?"

[ode2rin]

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is. 

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.” 

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.” 

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

[xo-adeline]

"The touch I never knew I needed..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Learning how to touch (Sfw)

Feat. Michael Kaiser

AN - Just had a breakdown over AP Lang, emailed my teacher, feeling shitty<3

You always noticed how once you stated dating Kaiser had been okay, for lack of better words, with you touching him. Even if when you first started, it took a little bit for him to warm up to it, the only issue is that he had never once touched you. No hugs, hand-holding, or anything, even if there had been many attempts to try. The slight raises of his hand towards your face when the two of you were relaxing on the couch, just for seconds later, it to be pulled away and placed back in his lap, or resting on the sides of the couch. It was the immediate assumption that this lack of physical contact had stemmed from his father and the abuse he used to put him through, but wouldn’t he also be scared of you touching him if that was indeed the fact? With no answers, and even fewer speculations after each of your ideas were shot down by other facts, you stopped trying to figure it out, or, at least it wasn’t at the top of your mind anymore. 

Well, that was until he finally broke. 

The second you two stepped back inside your shared house he had hugged you. Of course, you were shocked for a second before hugging him back. However, it didn’t last long. “..Sorry, I just… You seemed upset at that party and I know that hugs help people.” He paused for a second before speaking back up as he started walking back towards the bedroom. “I didn’t hurt you… Did I?” To which you shook your head. Unbeknownst, to him, it felt…Nice…

With that he gave a small nod and continued his walk to the bedroom, making sure to softly close the door behind him as he made it inside. You couldn’t help but think about how weird it was. Out of nowhere the man that never once hugged anybody, not even after winning big championships and world-class titles, did he ever hug his teammates. Just hugged you because you looked sad? The mystery was only getting more and more weird when he asked if he hurt you, and that’s when you realized. Even if he hadn’t hugged his teammates he had put his hands on them. That’s when the flashbacks of Blue Lock TV resurfaced from your hippocampus. All his matches with Ness, the amount of times he had put his hands on him and it had ended with a teary-eyed Ness. He was afraid of hurting you. Just like his father had hurt him with his touch. 

The walk over towards the bedroom was slow as you tried to piece together thoughts and come up with a way that you were going to bring up the issue and try to reason with him, that he wasn’t his father, and you knew he would have never hurt you. 

A las when you had walked through the door he was teary-eyed sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up when you slowly opened the door. He faced away from you. He knew he looked pathetic and he would have much rather had you not see him like this. What kind of emperor would he be if he got all teary-eyed because he had hugged somebody? Emotions could only take control as you saw the way he kept himself shielded and turned away from you. “Kaiser. You’re not your father.. Just because you might have hurt some people before doesn’t mean you’ll hurt everybody you touch. You don’t have to take the same path he did.” You sat down next to him, your hand slowly landing on his upper arm. “...But what if I do. What happens if I try to hug you and I punch you or try to strangle you..?” “But what if you don’t..?” The second the words had left it was like every wall he ever had came crashing down, he had turned himself and hugged you again, letting himself cry into your shoulder, as you sat there, rubbing his back. There was no way he was like his father, his father wouldn’t have had even a fourth of the heart Michael did. And while the rest of the world saw him as God’s chosen emporer, the arrogant football star, you just saw him as Michael. The same guy who would come home after practice every day and give you a small kiss on the forehead, no matter how pissed off it was at his teammates, his coach, or even the world. You knew that even if he wasn’t in his right mind there would be no way he could hurt you, and you trusted that more than you could imagine. 

[retroaria]

.°˖✧ NEEDY <𝟑 .ᐟ

virgin!kaiser x non-virgin!reader

cw: this is sooo long, afab!reader, unprotected sex, reader doesn’t finish (lol sorry), use of german (sorry if my translations are off)

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | requests are open! | enjoy 🪽

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“You think too highly of me, liebe.”

you could tell he was embarrassed by the way he shifted off your sheets, his new position seemed perfect for fleeting if need be, facing away from you. his face was red and flushed, partly from the heated lip lock you’ve had him in for the last fifteen minutes, and partly because your reaction to his last confession left him mortified.

“I’m sorry Micha, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” you cooed in his direction, caressing his arm and urging him to face you a little more. “I just didn’t expect you to be a virgin, like at all.”

“I play my role that well, uh?” he let out a nervous chuckle, fully facing you now, slightly leaning into your touch again. “You know I was never with anyone before you, at least…not the same way I am with you.”

“What does that mean?” you asked smugly. you wanted to hear him say you were special, that he was comfortable with you, ready to be vulnerable. he flashed a smirk your way before climbing back on top of you. his lips hovered over yours tauntingly, he let his hands roam up and down your sides. his mindless confidence was forever unwavering.

“I mean…i’ve never wanted it, not like this.” his hot breath was pouring down your neck, heating up the cartilage of your ear. he bit your earlobe softly, tugging it towards him before making his way down to plant kisses on your exposed collarbone. it was quite a performance he was putting on for you. the mental battle he was having between his nervousness and his need for dominance was amusing, arousing even. you snaked your hand up to tangle in his hair, using the leverage to tug him up and trap him in another needy kiss.

“d-do you want this? do you want me?” he practically whined into the kiss through heavy breaths, both of you getting more and more handsy by the minute. feeling you up wasn’t enough for him anymore, he needed you guys to consume each other while he waited feverishly for your response. his hands traveled up to cup your face and pull you further into the kiss, if that was even possible.

Michael was desperate. it dawned upon you as you felt his hips restraining themselves, stuttering between stillness and grinding down on your leg. he’d press his clothed budge down into you before sharply pulling back. he was needy, nervous, antsy, he was falling apart. every second that went by, his question unanswered, pulled at his heart strings and made him beg. not out loud of course, between his pride and how deep his tongue was shoved down your throat, he couldn’t do that. his mind was going slightly blank, all he could think was how soft your lips are, how hard his needy cock was, and the word “please”.

it was cruel how long you let him go on this way. all you had to say was “yes”, but seeing the confident, arrogant man you once knew melting into a puddle of helplessness on top of you was far too rewarding. you couldn’t keep it up for long though. the way his hips rolled into you, his hands grasping at you as if you were trying to leave, everything about how he handled you was a testament to how hard he was going to fuck you if given the chance. truthfully, you needed this just as much as he did. “yes, I want you~ please michael…” you mumbled into his mouth.

he pulled away and sat up for a moment to look at you beneath him. both of your chests heaving, lips red and swollen. he searched your eyes for some extra reassurance, which he got from the way you pouted at the stop of his movements.

as if a switch went off in his brain, he slowed down. he reached behind you to help you sit up slightly so he could remove your shirt and bra. taking another moment to take in the view of your bare chest. then he moved himself down on the bed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your pants and panties, pulling them down slowly. his eyes never parted from your body, each piece of clothing thrown haphazardly to the side. he ran his hands up your body slowly, from your ankles all the way up to your shoulders before cupping your face in his hands once again. “Du wirst mein Tod sein, Liebes.” as soon as you said yes his desperation was washed away by an even stronger desire to worship you.

he removed his own clothes with far more haste, though he noted that next time he should give you a bit of a show. the second his cock sprung free of its constraints, he was needy all over again. the wet spot on his boxers hadn’t gone unnoticed by you before he tossed them to the side, although the pre-cum leaking down his length was telling enough. he was on his knees hovering above you, looking down at you whilst sliding his hand slowly down his shaft.

you sat up quickly and leaned towards him, replacing his hand with yours. his tip was pink and oozing, you could feel it throbbing. the rest of his cock was pale and veiny. you pumped him up and down a few times, looking up and watching the way his lips slowly began to part. you leaned further forward, your lips grazing his tip teasingly. he stood still, as if trying not to interrupt your ministrations. you pushed your head forward, allowing his tip to slip into the warmth of your mouth. his eyes beamed down at you, inhaling sharply as you swiped your tongue along his sensitive slit. he was holding back moans, holding back everything. as much as he’d love to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, he’s gotten his dick sucked before. this is supposed to be his first time, he needs to fuck you.

he pulls his hips away from you and his hands find your shoulders, pushing you back down on the bed. as your back meets the sheets you smile up at him, bottom lip tugged between your teeth. he meets your gaze with a soft smile of his own, taking in the view beneath him once more before plunging down and kissing you hard. as his hands roam your body, they tickle down your stomach, causing you to shift a bit beneath him. distracted by that sensation, you hadn’t noticed how swiftly his fingers made their way down to you slick folds. he moaned when he felt how wet you were, a slightly strained, needy moan. it almost made you moan back.

he was aimlessly sliding his fingers up and down your heat, no particular goal in mind. you realized he probably didn’t know what to do down there, so you brought your hand down to cup his. he looked at you for a second before shifting his weight to the side, allowing both of you to get a view of your cunt. he gave no protest to your hand guiding his. you brought two of his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping them in slightly to gather more of your arousal. he curled his fingers at your entrance, mouth agape at the warmth and wetness. you took the opportunity to bring both of your hands up, guiding his slick covered fingers into his mouth. he obliged, letting his lips wrap around his own digits, sucking off every last drop of you. it was so hot, too hot, possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do.

“baby~ i need you.” you whined into his ear. this fingering lesson could wait for another time, right now you needed his cock inside of you, and he didn’t waste any time at the sound of your desperate words. he was on top of you again, kissing you and pulling your legs further apart so he could slip himself between them. one of his hands reached down to grab the base of his throbbing cock, he parted from the kiss and looked down at you longingly. you understood immediately, replacing his hand with yours once again at his base, pumping him a few times, and then lining him up with your entrance.

his breath hitched at the feeling, he frantically searched your eyes for approval, which you gave in the form of a small nod. with that, he plunged himself into you. the groan that left his throat as he bottomed out in your sopping cunt was purely lewd, it sent shivers down your body. he shifted quickly to take your hand in his and pin it up on the sheets next to your head. his thrusts were frantic and sloppy, he was relishing in the feeling. his cock slid in with ease due to how wet you were, yet you still wrapped so tight around him. despite his lack of coordination, he still managed to nag some of those sweet spots inside of you, causing you to let out moans of your own, egging him on further.

as soon as your walls fully engulfed him, he knew he wouldn’t last long. “aha~ shit…i’m gonna~ hmmph, f-feels so good” he warned you through shakey breaths and moans. he was totally blissed out, yet still trying to keep composure. he’d bite down hard on his bottom lip and try to keep his sounds from slipping out, but failed every time. he kept his face hidden in the crook of your neck, your ear taking in every whine and moan, every hitch of his breath. he’d chant your name like a prayer as he got close, his thrusts losing all sense of composure. as his orgasm washed over him he gave up trying to hide his noises, moaning out in pure ecstasy as your cunt milked his cock for everything he had. he let all of his weight fall on top of you, he was a panting, heaving mess. as soon as he did gather himself slightly, he sat up on his knees and gawked down at the cum flowing out of your hole.

“i’m sorry, liebe…” an apology that meant very little while he was oogling at your sloppy cunt, fingers smearing his seed through your folds and pushing some back into your hole. he was a bit mesmerized, his cock getting hard all over again at the sight. he hovered himself over you once again, pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. taking advantage of his fucked out state, you flip the two of you over, straddling him on the bed. “that’s ok baby, it’s my turn now, yeah?” you cooed at him, hands cupping his face.

“yeah…mmhm~ yes, please.”

needy virgin kaiser is my roman empire i tried my best to do it justice

dividers - @anitalenia & @plutism

[haveateadude]

don't say yes, run away now

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ what happens when you invite Ellie to your wedding, and what would you do if she stands up?

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ i mention sex like,, once but nothing happens. homophobia and some white guy named michael.

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ I LOVED THIS IDEA OMGG AND I FINALLY GOT TO WRITE ITTT

I hear the preacher say, "Speak now or forever hold your peace"

There's the silence, there's my last chance

I stand up with shaky hands, all eyes on me

Horrified looks from everyone in the room

But I'm only looking at you

You've wanted to get married for as long as you can remember. You have always dreamed of wearing a white dress, with your arm hooked around your father's while he walks you down the aisle, your whole family and friends sitting on those wooden chairs applauding as you kiss the person you love the most. Except, today is your wedding. And you don't think you want this. A little voice in your head is going: this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong and you don't love him you won't be happy don't do this don't do this you'll be miserable.

Don't do this

Don't do this

Don't do this.

"Don't move," you hear your mother say. You come back to reality as she zips up your dress. It's itchy and uncomfortable and you can't breathe. Is this really what you've been wishing for your whole life? "All done."

You turn around to look at your mother. You chuckle, trying to hide how shitty you're feeling, "This is uncomfortable."

"Oh, shush," She says, smiling. "Bear with it. You only get to do this once in your life—unless you divorce Michael and get married again. Which, you shouldn't because the divorce papers cost a shit ton of money. And he's a good guy, isn't he?"

You nod, "Yeah, mom. He is."

"That's good." She stops for a second, then looks at you: from head to toe. She's still smiling and it's starting to freak you out. "I can't believe this is happening. You look so beautiful, honey. "

"Thank you."

"You know, you scared me for a second. For a while, I thought you were a lesbian when you used to bring that girl back then. What was her name? Ella, Amelia, Bella…"

"Ellie?"

"Right, Ellie. You've invited her, haven't you?"

You nod, "Yeah. She's still a friend."

You don't know if liking each other's Instagram stories counts as being friends. And it might seem cruel, knowing you've dated her secretly in the past, and now you've invited her to your fucking wedding. But it didn’t feel right not to ask her. You've known her since you were in high school.

You take a deep breath, desperately trying to get Ellie off your mind. All you're starting to think about now is kissing under the rain with her, secretly passing notes in the hallway, laughing in between kisses, sitting in between her legs while you read - just quietly existing in each other's presence without having to make it sexual. This is the moment you realize you've never felt this way with Michael. He makes you smile and he kisses you when he comes home from work. But he never laughs during sex, and he never holds your hand except for when you're in public. He never whispers, "It's okay," ever so gently like Ellie when you cry; he never runs his finger through your hair like Ellie used to when you couldn't sleep.

This is the day of your wedding, for fuck's sake. Maybe deciding to marry in church wasn't a good idea.

A part of you knows that you've been longing for Ellie your whole life.

You were wishing she wouldn't come, but as you walk down the aisle you can't help but catch a glimpse of her eyes. It always seemed that you were connected—as if you both had a string attached to your pinkies. If she pulled—if she looked at the back of your head you'd turn around to look at her; if she walked to the room you would be able to feel it—you would fucking feel it. Right now you could feel the string. She was tugging at it. She was tugging and tugging and tugging and she would not leave you alone.

As you stand in front of Micheal you try to smile; he smiles back. Ellie is tugging at the string. She could always tell when you had a fake smile on your face.

The preacher is talking but you're not hearing him.

"Are you okay?" Michael whispers to you.

You nod, still smiling. With teeth and everything. You then whisper, "Yeah, I'm just overwhelmed."

"Me too," he whispers back. "I'm so happy, I can't believe this is happening."

You're about to reply when you hear, "Speak now or forever hold your peace—"

And then someone stands up.

And then your smile drops as you look at her.

Ellie has always been reckless, the little shit. She's always bold and brave and she isn't scared of saying what she thinks but still—this surprises you. You hear an echo of gasps around the place and all eyes are on her as she's standing. But she doesn't say anything. She looks around the room and then looks at you so you look at her. Tug, tug, tug. You can't help but feel like a helpless teenage girl in a secret relationship—this is what you felt when you used to look at her in a party, knowing nobody knew about her and you and also knowing you'll find your ways to meet up later. And then she blinks, and then leaves. Just like that. She walks out.

Michael's eyes are on you. It hits you, suddenly, that you will be married to him. He'll want to have kids and you will agree because that's who you are and then you'll be miserable.

"Woah," He laughs. Like this is funny. Like someone has just told a joke. "Was that Ella? Your mother told me that—"

And then your feet are moving before you can think of the consequences. People gasp again, now they're starting to stand up. You walk out, taking out your veil and heels, and leave them on the floor of the church as you run. You can't help but feel happy, free, proud. Especially proud. Like this isn't your secret anymore—like you could scream at the world how much you like her without being embarrassed or scared. Everyone should know you love her.

"Ellie!" You exclaim as you look at her. She's also running. "Ellie, hold up!"

She stops suddenly, turning around to look at you. Her breath is ragged.

"Did you just—what are you doing here? You're getting married."

"Fuck Michael," You breathe out, hands over your knees, trying to catch your breath. "I think I hate him and I—and I keep thinking about you. And I just—fuck Ellie. I can't marry him."

"You've wanted this your whole life," she says. She knows how much you've wanted to get married, you always talked to her about it. "You've finally got it and—"

And then she's not speaking, because you're kissing her. Her lips feel like home. Ellie chuckles and then you're laughing, too. You press your forehead against hers and you feel like you could cry. Maybe you are. She wraps her arms around you like she just needs to hold you.

"I'm sorry to break this moment," she starts to say as she pulls away, looking behind your shoulder. "But we've got a mad mother running towards us."

You look behind as you see that your mother is running as she screams your full name.

"Run," you tell her. She nods and seconds after you're both running for your lives, Ellie holding your hand gently.

"Thank god I brought my car!" She exclaims as she pulls her keys with her other hand. She unlocks the car doors and as soon as she gets in she starts the engine. You get into the passenger's seat. "I can't believe we just did that."

You laugh as Ellie drives until losing sight of your mother.

You know this will bring a lot of consequences and maybe you'll never talk to your family again. But well—at least you'll live a happy life and will never run out of what to talk about in therapy.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.

See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.

The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.

Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!

The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.

The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.

I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 2

2nd — choking, Lewis Hamilton

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Cat and mouse. You’d spent your life running from Lewis, all while trying to catch up with him, consider him both some sort of your admiration, an idol, no less but at the same time all you want to do is to beat him up, to be the only one beside Michael Schumacher to match up with him, 7 titles. You did try to put him in the back of your mind, but he was everywhere you went. He is still there on the track, fighting neck to neck with you every weekend. He is there during the drivers’ parade, in the debriefing room, in Monaco, he is even your neighbour. And you hated it, you hated him for having haunted you in your sleep, your mind, even your body almost every second you were awake or asleep. But how can you stop it? You can’t. Not when it comes to Lewis Hamilton anyway. Instead, you have a big fat crush on him. 

You’ve felt it for a while now, this strange tension. It’s always been there, bubbling beneath the surface whenever you’re near him. The world sees your rivalry, two fierce competitors battling it out for glory on the track, but they don’t see the real war—the one that takes place inside you every single day. You despise him, don’t you? Or at least, you try to. But there’s something magnetic about him, something you can’t shake. You tell yourself it’s just the competition, that burning desire to be better, to prove that you’re the one who belongs at the top. And yet, it’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s the way he carries himself, the confidence in his every move, every word. He doesn’t just race to win—he is the race, the man who’s conquered everything in his path, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore that. You’re used to pressure, to the heat of the moment, to the roar of engines and the sting of sweat in your eyes as you push yourself harder, faster, always looking for that apex. But when it comes to him—Lewis—it’s different. The pressure comes from inside, twisting in your gut, tightening in your chest. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch, a need you can’t quite name. Every glance across the paddock, every shared moment in front of the cameras or behind closed doors feels like an unspoken challenge. And God, you hate it. You hate that he gets to you in ways no one else can. But underneath the frustration, there’s something else—something darker, something that pulls at you in the quiet moments when no one’s looking. 

At least that’s what you thought. You thought all your glances were discreet, but he noticed it all.  The way your eyes lingered just a little too long when he entered the room. The soft smile that played on your lips when you thought no one was looking. Even the moments when you'd glance away quickly, your pulse quickening, pretending to focus on something else. He saw it all, every flicker of interest, every moment of hesitation. You didn't realize how often his eyes found you, how he'd quietly observe the subtle shift in your expression when your gazes accidentally met. He never said anything. Just let it unfold in silence, a game only he seemed to be playing. 

Back to now, you had your hands on your steering wheels, eyes locked onto the track waiting for 5 red lights to go out. There were 5 races left. It is the United States Grand Prix. You knew this was going to be a difficult race but you knew your team was going to get you through the race quickly and safely. Everything felt super surreal to you at the moment. You were ready. You knew this race was going to be a good one. You felt it in your bones. All of a sudden it was “lights out and away we go!”. Everything was going well until lap 49. You and Lewis had been battling all race long. Suddenly,  your car was hit from the left side and the next thing you know, you and Lewis were all done for the race, with no points at all. you’re both fuming when you head back to the paddock, Lewis comes to your driver’s room and knocks on the door, which you assume that it’s someone from your team looking for you so you open the door

“What the hell do you want?” you scowl at him. 

“An apology would be better, Lewis says, pushing his way into your room while you scoff at him, shutting the door behind you. 

“An apology for what? I assume it is you who owes me an apology.” 

“You fucked up my race, you took both of us out.”

“Me?! you crashed into me!” 

you go back and forth like that for a couple of minutes before your back is slammed against the wall

“God do you ever shut up?” Lewis asks

“Make me then,” you say.

Neither of you could deny the sexual tension between the two of you that had been growing more and more with each race weekend. So when your lips crashed onto one another, neither of you were surprised. You can practically feel the tension still radiating from his body; his muscles taught and flexing, rippling underneath his skin where it was flush against yours. Barley a minute Lewis is now shoving you against the wall. 

"You drive me crazy... " He whispers huskily in your ear as his hands slowly trail down your backside, gripping you tightly. Lewis then picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist, carrying you over to the couch, where he gently lays you down.

He crawls over you on the couch, his muscular body pinning you down. Lewis's intense green eyes bore into yours, filled with lust and barely contained desire. “You've been teasing me all season, haven't you?” His voice is low and gravelly as he grinds his hips against yours.

His hands slide under your racing suit, caressing the soft skin of your thighs. Lewis leans down, his lips brushing against your neck as he inhales your scent. “God, you smell incredible…” He places hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

Lewis's hands roam your body possessively as he kisses you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. He groans into the kiss, his hardening length pressing insistently against your core through the thin fabric of your racing suit. “I want you so badly..”

“Then have me.” You whisper back while your fingers gripping onto his broad back. 

With a growl, Lewis shreds your racing suit, baring your skin to his touch. He rains kisses all over your body, his hands mapping out every curve and contour. When he finally settles between your thighs, he looks up at you with fire in his eyes. “You're mine.”

“I think I have already been yours since before I knew it.”

Lewis's expression softens briefly before a hungry grin spreads across his face. He leans down and kisses you slowly, sensually, as he slowly enters you. He pauses to allow you to adjust before beginning to move, his hips rolling in a rhythm that drives you both wild. “Say it again…”

“I’m yours, Lewis. As long as you have me.”

With a satisfied groan, Lewis buries himself deep inside you, his movements becoming more frantic as he loses himself in the feeling of being reunited with you. He captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pounds into you. 

“Mine... You're mine…”

You feel a surge of emotion wash over you as you realize that despite the tension between you and Lewis on the track, he still considers you are his. The passion between you intensifies, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

“No one else fucks you this good, isn’t that right baby?” Lewis whispers darkly against your ear.

You attempt to sound an answer to his question, but all that ends up leaving your mouth is a pathetic mewl as he fucks you even harder, slamming into you. 

One of his hands then snakes to your front, gliding up your body until his fingers wrap around your throat. His eyes are dark with an intense lust, a slight anger that you’d probably find frightening if it wasn’t so arousing. 

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he seethes. “Use your words,” he commands with unquestionable authority. 

His fingers squeeze your throat for a second, a promise of what was to come, a challenge to try and answer his question.

“Y-yes,” you barely manage croak, your voice breathy.

“Yes, what?” He snarls, his teeth scraping across the delicate skin of your ear.

“No one fucks me… fucks me as good as you,” you whisper brokenly, your eyes wide and pleading as you look back at him.

Lewis keeps his hand around your neck as he continues to fuck you. His eyes locked with yours, Lewis tightens his grip on your throat, not enough to cut off your air supply, but just enough to make you feel dominated. 

“Fuck, you gonna come, baby. You love it with my hand on your throat, don’t you,” he said. 

Your face turns red from the lack of oxygen and the intense pleasure. You nod eagerly, digging your nails into his shoulder. The tension between you two on the track may have been fierce, but in the room, it was even hotter.

Lewis tightens his grip slightly, his muscular arm flexing with the effort. He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he growls. “That's it, take it like the champ you are. I know you can handle it.”

He squeezes your throat a bit harder, cutting off your air supply completely for a few seconds before releasing it. You gasp desperately for breath, your body shaking with the effort. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you can't breathe,” he says, his voice dripping with lust.

Your vision starts to blur and you feel yourself losing consciousness, but the pressure on your cervix and the lack of oxygen keep you on the edge of orgasm.

With a final, brutal thrust, he slams into you and tightens his hand around your throat.Stars explode in your vision as the lack of oxygen and the force of your release hit you at the same time. He collapses on top of you, his breath hot on your neck as he nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. He loosens his grip on your throat, allowing you to drag in ragged breaths. "Good girl," he purrs softly, planting a gentle kiss on your neck.

He rolls off of you, pulling you close to his sweat-slicked body. His strong arms wrap around you possessively. "You're mine now, you know that? I don't care about the track, about our rivalry. In here, you belong to me."

Taglist: @formula1-motogpfan @iamafootballfanmiasanmia @arian-directioner @annimausi @mythicalmaven @lucycowr @hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍑 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends? 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟸

✿ ─ characters: kaiser michael, ness alexis, aiku oliver, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, slight implied cheating, oliver is so obnoxious im sorry, proofread? ✿ ─ notes: if you see this and you requested someone else, worry not. i'm far too much of a people pleaser to leave you hanging, there will be part three! if you're looking, part 1 can be found here!

KAISER MICHAEL...

you don’t know if its just curiosity driving you or some feelings towards kaiser you’d rather not confront, but impulsively you ask him for a picture. you don’t have much time to reflect on how wrong it is to be asking someone for nudes while in a relationship because before you know it you’re staring at his fit body and shit eating smirk that you hate that you like. its honestly near professional level quality too. a selfie of him laid out on his bed, basking in the afternoon sun peeking through his window. you let out a breath as you finally will yourself to let your eyes travel down and you finally notice the sheet he has draped around his hips. leave it to michael kaiser to persuade you to ask him for nudes only to tease you. still you could see a clear outline of his cock through it and you really wish he was lying about his size. you swallow harshly and you thank god he couldn’t see the crimson that has taken over your face.

NESS ALEXIS...

he sends it to you relatively quickly considering it’s alexis and you had half expected him to spend 20 minutes taking it only to chicken out and not send it. your surprise doesn’t end there, however, as the entire vibe of the image was far from what you were used to with ness. he’s sitting up against his headboard, joggers haphazardly shoved to his knees. he was holding his phone down near his thighs, giving you the perfect view, you didn’t know where to let your eyes land. the tips of his fingers gently pressed his cock against his abdomen, trying not to bite your lip over the fact that it was long enough to reach his belly button. ness must not skip core day at training, you think as you mentally trace every indent of his abs. the thing throwing you off was his face. he had the bottom of his shirt clenched between his teeth to hold it up to give you a better view and you don’t miss the intense look swirling in his eyes. it made your breath hitch in your throat. he had never seemed so focused, so serious. it’s as if his stare was piercing through the screen of your phone. the flush on his face made him look convincingly desperate, stirring arousal in your stomach to your embarrassment.

AIKU OLIVER...

you unfortunately can’t disagree with him. the last few times you hung out with oliver there has been a heavy tension that you’ve been fighting to ignore. it’s what drives you to reply a noncommittal maybe, which is much better than a no, and good enough for oliver. less than a minute later you get a picture, and you can’t help but think that he probably had taken it before you had even agreed. it’s in the mirror in his bedroom, the only lighting is the soft glow of his lamp. he stands facing the side, holding his dick which was at least twice the size of his hand and veiny. to your surprise, he’s well shaved, and as your gaze wanders up his body you scold the part of yourself that wants to drool over his abs and arms. you always knew he was toned, saw him play soccer a few times, but had never how truly sculpted he was. you knew you were doomed the moment you locked eyes on his stupid smile. dangerously charming, kind of like the man himself, one you could see yourself getting fooled by over and over again if you stared at it long enough.

NAGI SEISHIRO...

it takes him barely a few minutes. nagi’s picture is lazy. he was sat back in his desk chair, he just pulls up his hoodie a bit and slides his sweats down his thighs. it’s lit only by the glow of his computer, his cock is basically the only thing in frame… except the plastic water bottle he places next to it for a size comparison. honestly he shouldn’t get away with sending such a low effort nude, but it’s easy to get away with anything when your cock is as big as his. you couldn’t even do the mental math required to figure it out, but one thing was for sure, bigger than a poland springs water bottle. and it simply isn’t fair to be that long and wide at the same time. it almost makes you angry. of course naturally attractive, naturally talented nagi seishiro had a huge dick. you’re unsure if nagi knows how groundbreaking this information is and is choosing not to brag out of modesty or if he doesn’t realize he is the biggest you’ve ever seen.

🇧‌🇴‌🇳‌🇺‌🇸‌❗❗❗ (reo's perspective)

i hate tumblr please just upload my fucking screenshots like a good girl next time. okay now that all the rage is out, what do you guys think!!! part 3 will come out soon and will include: shidou, bachira, sae, kunigami, + mystery bonus?? not sure yet

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[enmie]

*♡∞:｡.｡ Just a Nap ｡.｡:∞♡*

➶ bllk's Sae, Kaiser, Rin, and Shidou and their goofy selves try to make you prove your love

➶ they fake sleep and you carry them back to bed

➶ poll results. cw: cussing. insults. implied fem reader

𓅪 first bllk fic lesgoo

𓅪 this took three polls. THREE.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sae Itoshi's

Each tick of the clock, each breath from your lips, each blink of your eye— you watched Sae's sleeping presence. He looked so peaceful you didn't dare disturb him, no matter how much of a trouble maker you were to him. There was something so off and comforting about his shallow breaths, in comparison to his usual stoic attitude, the one that pushes you away. But you stay anyway.

And he thinks he's such a little trickster.

Sae's eyelids flutter to to take a peek at what you were doing, his breathing shallow and soft to make the act convincing. Of course he's fake sleeping. He would never fall asleep in front of you.

He flinches. No, he doesn't jump, but he internally flinches when you attempt to stand him up from the couch, his one arm flung over your shoulder. It was one hell of a movie night, but every movie you watched was plain trash.

He could've spent the night practicing, yeah, but who was he to turn you down? All that's in his head now is fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to wake up—

— but everything's too good. He needs to know what happens next.

You struggled to lift him up. What was he, double your weight? You were tiny compared to this man, what the hell were you thinking trying to get him up? With a groan, you stand up, your weak knees trembling as you lift one side of his body, the other side hanging. But you notice he was on his feet. Maybe it was a reflex.

"Alrighty, let's get ya to bed," You say more to yourself than to him, each step excrutiatingly slow. Slow and shaky, your breath more ragged than his. Why were you even putting in this much effort?Effort wasted. Because you throw him onto the bed, hands on your knees as you panted. You thought he was a light sleeper, initially.

Vulnerability wasn't something he usually showed, yet here he was now, spread eagle on his twin-sized bed, hair in his face and his arm red from your tight hold. You did have a harder time.

And that's why you hated, hated him for opening his left eye, and he had his lips in a smug little smirk, that shitty bastard. You grumbled, throwing a pillow at him.

"What's wrong? You're surprisingly strong, y'know," He remarks, sitting up to fix his hair. Sae ran his fingers through the magenta strands, his eyes looking tired but accomplished.

"Lose some weight so I can carry you next time." You muttered angrily, sulky as you sat on the edge of his bed. "There's a next time?" He slips himself down the bed to sit next to you, gauging your reaction. And that goddamn smirk is still on his face, to the point where it seems his eyes are smirking, his ears are smirking, his cheeks, too. So annoying.

"Hopefully..."

"Not,"

"Yes,"

"No,"

"..."

"Fine." He eventually sighs. "I'll come over again, pendejo."

Michael Kaiser's

It was the first time you ever saw him asleep. Of course you wouldn't know this grown ass man still takes naps in the afternoon. The sun was up and blazing, glazing its color on Kaiser's undershirt, his muscles bare and exposed. You've never seen him like this, vulnerable, not teasing you, not absolutely annoying you. It was comforting in a way.

But Kaiser thinks he's such a clever man. He stifles a laugh, sensing how you're admiring his sleeping form, his fake sleeping form. He's supposed to be practicing with some people today, but he chooses to mess with you over anything else. It's just how he shows his love.

So it surprises him, really, when you start to stand up and grab his waist and back, supporting his body as much as you could. Were you really going to take him to his room? He lets out an audible groan, but keeps his eyes closed for convincing effect.

With every step you take, he drags his feet across the wooden floor, your grunts loud and strained. Why does he have to be so heavy?

You immediately let go of Kaiser once he was in his room, collapsing the supposedly sleeping body on the mattress.

Then this jerk starts laughing. Boisterously. Disturbingly. Honestly, you feel so shocked that you could only blink slowly and process everything that's happening, the man you thought was sleeping was laughing so hard it pisses you off.

"Jerk!" You exclaim. "Oh, you're such a comedian! You really do love me!" He says, sitting up to see that reaction he found so cute. "I was helping you, fucking bastard,"

"That's me," He says confidently, flexing his bicep. And it annoys you.

"Now, if you excuse me, I got to practice," He stands up, getting dizzy at the sudden adjustment. But before he even leaves, he wobbles to the drawer unexpectedly, pulling out a face towel with cute rubber ducks on it. "Here, saviour. For your sweat."

"I really can't tell if you're trying to be nice or pissing me off," You groan, wiping your forehead and your sweaty neck.

He looks at you with some sort of... admiration, in his eyes. And he laughs again, softer and more genuine this time. "I think you should come watch me practice." You roll your eyes. "After I tore all my muscles carrying you? You wish, asshole,"

Kaiser's never felt this way. Why was he finding your anger so cute? He puts on his jersey for practice, his long hair getting snugly stuck underneath the neckline. So you go and untuck it, getting dangerously close to this man.

Yeah. He thinks he's in love.

"You're so damn small, it must have been a miracle when you carried me here," He whispers. Kaiser doesn't whisper. He yells. A lot.

"Miracle, me?"

"... Yeah, you."

Rin Itoshi's

One turn of a head, and he's fast asleep? That was so unlikely of him, you think. Because, you're talking about Rin Itoshi here, asleep, beside you, so close you could feel the faint pitter patter of his heart and the even fainter breath. So deep into that slumber you felt bad even thinking of waking the striker up.And he doesn't usually mess with people.

But he wants to see that reaction that he finds ever-so-slightly, cute. When you scrunch up your nose in frustion, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids low. He loves it. It's one of the only things he finds himself looking for in every living moment he spends. But he doesn't quite know why, why he adores your long hair and every curve of your body he longs to touch.

He's cute, too. But Rin doesn't know that. Only you do. Or, at least, you're convinced you're his biggest fan, his best-est friend, or even something along the lines of.

That's why— he's currently trying to peek at you, while also trying to keep pretending he's asleep. Oh! He shuts his eyes tightly, once you turn to look at him. No, no, if he gets caught without saying it himself, it'll be embarrassing. So maybe... maybe he should just come clean already, and—

Panic, panic, panic.

You can hear his breath hitch softly and his eyelashes flutter faintly. Maybe he just does that. You take him by the arm, throwing it around your neck and over your shoulder to take him to his room, to let the pretty boy fall asleep. And oh, how you struggled.

But Rin thinks he's struggling more, trying desperately to stop himself from getting too flustered at the proximity he didn't expect. He makes himself lighter so you didn't have a harder time. He'd usually weigh himself down purposefully, or not fake sleep at all, but he found himself acting different around you.

Not too different. Only... less indifferent. You were more tolerable than the rest.

So once he plops down onto the bed, free from your helping grip, he feels this longing. This yearning. Your touch was too much for him, and now he wants more and more and more. You begin walking away, deciding to let him sleep, but—

"Sorry." Your head snaps in his direction. You'd almost gotten whiplash.

"Huh?! What happened to your sleeping ass?" Still half-lidded, Rin fiddles with the hem of his sweater, avoiding all form of eye contact with you. He just tricked you. And he was guilty. So unlike him. "I wasn't asleep."

You cross your arms with a smirk on your face, oh you knew well. That look on his cute face says it all, that he enjoyed how you were nice enough to accompany his heavy weight up the stairs and into his bedroom.

"You act better than I thought," You tell him. He just hums in agreement, coming back to his original attitude.

"Little trickster."

And when he looks up at you— oh, you think you're about to fold.

"I know."

Ryusei Shidou's

He's snoring loudly, smiliarly to an old man. Damn this boy. Was he serious or was he serious? You think it's very Ryusei Shidou of Ryusei to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation, because not even ten minutes into the topic of leopards, he's passed out, his head facing the side. No wonder the idiot's snoring.

But it's all an act.

Ryusei is wide awake. He may have underestimated how hard closing his eyes for more than a milisecond was, but he is more than determined to see if you'd kiss him with a true love's kiss. Like a fucking Disney princess.

You groaned, standing up with your hands on your hips. You theorize that he's fake sleeping, since there's a goddamned smirk on his face, but you believe it anyway. "Holy shit, you fell asleep, you asshole." With a sigh, you decide to snap a photo of him before deciding to be a nicer bitch for once.

He accidentally opens his eyes and groans when you start lifting him up, but closes them tightly as to keep the act up. Where were you taking him? Upstairs? Ryusei hears your grunts as you desperately try to grab him. He falls back on you anyway, his back pressing against your chest and tensing up. Not like you felt it.

"Alrighty, here we go," This man is eighty percent muscle mass, and you were attempting to carry him?

Get this, he was so comfortable despite your struggle, that he actually falls asleep. For what seems like a mere split second, his breath shallows and his snores get quieter, and his muscles relax on you. You're confused.

The floorboards creak with every step you took, dragging the blonde by his waist weakly. Maybe if he didn't go to the gym so much. With a grunt, you throw him on the bed feeling strained as hell. "Fuck you, honestly."

Walking to the edge of the bed, you pull out your phone to see the picture, and there's this laughter. His laughter. You sigh as you shake your head, knowing your first thought was right after all. He wasn't really sleeping.

"What? Had a hard time?" Ryusei teases, the volume of his laughter baffling you. "Shut up."

"No, no, I'll sleep, I'll sleep," He makes a snoring sound again, but not before laughing his ass off. You're extremely annoyed. You regret being nice. But, you have to admit it, his laugh did bring a smile to your face, in some weird way.

He sits up to peek at your phone not-so-sneakily, chorting. "Ya even took my pic!"

You squeak, and find Ryusei immediately at your side, looking at his fakely asleep self on your phone. His hand is on your waist instinctively, as he stares with that smile, that grin you used to hate. But you love it now.

"You're so obsessed with me," He says. "You gonna make it a wallpaper like a lovesick simp?"

Turning your head and smirking, he blushes. Yeah, he might just be into every other girl, but you're the only one who made him blush that much.

"Maybe so,"

"... Fuck you."

ⒺⓃⓂⒾⒺᛌⓈ bllk fanfic

[slasher-fxcker]

Slashers S/O falling asleep on them

A/N: Just a quick little drabble of me fantasizing about our favourite slashers. I am still working through requests so please don't think I am ignoring you guys! They are coming :)

Billy Loomis

· Billy isn’t sure how to react at first, if you are around people sorry but he’s not going to tarnish his reputation with these soft moments. But if you're alone he will be conflicted.

· He’s not used to soft moments and he likes to be in control of any affection. He tries to keep it light like hand holding or sexual to try and keep you at a distance. So, this makes him sort of short circuit.

· Once he decides to allow it, it takes him a while but he does eventually relax into the embrace. He hates to admit that it is comforting, you make him feel secure and that worries him.

· He probably won’t sit for too long and may move eventually, he won’t disturb you but will leave you on the couch to rest.

Bo Sinclair

· Bo will never ever admit to this but he loves your soft affection, even if it’s only when you're asleep that he embraces it. He will pull you closer to him and wrap his arm around you. It’s the time he will let his guard down and let himself truly feel.

· If his brothers walk in he’s going to act like it’s a hassle, but even they know he doesn’t really mean it. Will also probably whine at you about it later.

· Bo loves you but he won’t admit that yet, even if you question it sometimes just know that you don’t get to see the way he looks at you like you're his world, or how your cute sleepy expression grips his heart. It’s these times where he thinks maybe he should be nicer to you, it’s now when he realises that he needs you even if he’s not ready to admit that.

Jason Voorhees

· Jason will not move a muscle if you fall asleep on him, you may as well be leaning on a comfier version of a statue. He wouldn’t do anything to wake you up.

· Barely breathes in fear or disturbing you. This man adores you and if you need sleep you're going to get it.

· If there are any trespassers he is going to be even more brutal than usual, how dare they disturb this intimate moment with his loved one. He lays you down as gently as he can, lucky you're a heavy sleeper.

· Jason will make quick work of the trespassers so he can get back to you, sure you may wake up with some leftover blood on you but it’s all worth it in the end to be in Jason’s arms.

Jesse Cromeans

· Jesse gets a small smirk on his face when he realises you’ve fallen asleep in his lap while he’s completing some paperwork. He will hold you while he works, occasionally stroking your hair and placing his chin on your head.

· You seem so small buried into his chest, it reminds Jesse how delicate you are and how protective he is of you to keep you here with him.

· Jesse is a busy man so its highly likely that he will end up having some sort of work that pulls him away from this intimate moment. He will carry you with ease to your bed and cover you in blankets to keep you warm until he can return.

· Won’t leave without placing the gentlest of kisses to your forehead and watching you snuggle in.

Lester Sinclair

· Lester is a busy man, he loves your affections but try to catch him when it won’t interfere with his day or piss Bo off. He will put your affections first and that can often get him in trouble with his brother.

· This man is the cutest cuddle bug, he will hold you for as long as you want. Will wrap you up in his arms and put a movie on, he is definitely the most chill out of the slashers when it comes to this kind of affection.

· Expect him to occasionally cover your face in soft kisses, the small smile it puts on your face gives him the cheesiest grin. Part of him wants you to hurry up and wake up so he can give you more affection, but don’t worry he wouldn’t dream of waking you.

· Lester cherishes you and when you wake up still in his arms expect to give him all of your attention for a while.

Michael Myers

· Do you like sleeping on the floor? Because that’s where you will end up if you fall asleep on Michael when he’s not in a very good mood. He’s an asshole. He does love you, but you don’t get to be affectionate without his approval when he’s in this kind of mood.

· If you catch him on a good day he will simply let you rest against him, most likely sitting still and watching you sleep.

· He thinks you're naïve to trust him when you're in such a vulnerable state, how he could hurt you at any moment. He likes to pretend that he could but you both know he would never do anything to hurt you. Not now that he had let you in.

· If you wake up to his head resting against yours as you both find comfort in the slight affection he will jump up and storm off as soon as he notices you're awake. Don’t bring it up unless you want him to pout for a while or threateningly glare at you from across the room. He will pretend it never happened.

Stu Macher

· Stu had always been a night owl, and it didn’t help he spent a lot of his nights out with Billy.

· You would wait up for him a lot at his place, flicking through the channels of the tv and waiting for that familiar click of the front door. He would instantly come and join you, arms open and waiting. He always missed touching and holding you.

· Would probably ramble on and not realise you were sleeping until he notices you aren’t answering him anymore. The cheesy smile this boy gets when he realises you're asleep.

· He will probably just watch you for a while, moving the hair out of your face.

· Stu is the type of guy to draw on people’s faces while they sleep, but with you he will just gently trace your features or draw small love hearts with his finger, laughing quietly to himself as your nose crinkles at the feeling.

· He wouldn’t move you, he loves holding you in his arms, keeping you close to him. Will for sure tease you about it later though.

Thomas Hewitt

· Thomas just melts when he feels your head rest against him. He knows how tiring it can be working in the heat, so he will let you rest for as long as you need to.

· He will blush if anyone else sees the two of you, but he’s still not moving.

· Thomas could hold you like this forever, but he worries that the couch isn’t the comfiest place to spend the night so he will carry you upstairs to your room, this man just wants what is best for you. He tries his best to be as gentle as possible when he lays you down, not wanting to wake you.

· He stands up to leave but notices you clinging to his shirt, the crinkle in your brow showing you're clearly not happy with the loss of contact. He lets out a husky huff before climbing into bed next to you, he melts under your touch and the thought that even in your sleep you need his touch.

Vincent Sinclair

· He stills immediately when he feels the contact. Vincent loves you so much but he’s not sure he will ever get used to the physical affections.

· When he realises you’ve fallen asleep on him his heart swells. You better believe this boy will not move an inch, your comfort is his entire priority. He will be dead still until you wake up, would not dream of disturbing you.

· Will definitely watch you sleep, he feels like he needs to commit every single line of your face to memory. Not only will he want to sketch you later on but the fear of you leaving still weighs heavily on him and he needs to make sure he would remember every detail of you.

· It’s like you can feel him staring when you shuffle closer to him and mumble his name, he instantly melts. He pulls you closer, reassuring you that he’s still there. He’s not going anywhere, he will always be there.

[happy74827]

hey pookieeee, how about mike and reader are like new to dating and mike just got his job at freddy’s fazbears pizzeria as night guard. and he has trouble paying the bills and stuff and taking care for abby. and reader is like lemme help you. and mikes like no i got it. just rlly angsty to fluff? if you get what i mean? thanks xo

Resolute Hearts

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: All you wanted to do was to save him from drowning.

WC: 2883

Category: Angst to Fluff, Happy Ending

I absolutely adored this request. I hope you were serious about the angst, because it is there and it is heavy 🫠

『••✎••』

Tears…that's all you could feel. You felt them running down your cheeks, and you could feel your lips trembling as you sat on the tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The surrounding air was thick, a suffocating feeling. It was hard to breathe. Your head felt light, and your vision was a blur. You took in deep, shaky breaths, trying to hold back the sobs you desperately wanted to let out.

You never thought you would feel this way. It was like everything you had worked for your entire life had fallen through. It was like nothing meant anything to you anymore. Your life, your family, your friends. They didn't mean anything to you. You didn't care about them. You were alone, and the only person you cared about didn't seem to care about you back.

The apartment was dark and quiet. You sat in the bathroom, the door locked, the lights off, the fan running to block the sound of your tears. Your roommate had left hours before, saying she had an early morning class. You didn't know why they even had classes so early in the morning.

It felt like decades had gone by since you sat there on the bathroom floor. The bathroom tiles were cold and uncomfortable. You were cold and uncomfortable. You didn't feel like yourself. You weren't the type to get so worked up about anything. You weren't the type to sit on a bathroom floor and cry over things you couldn't fix. You were the type to keep your head held high. To smile through everything, even if the situation was tough. To be the rock for your friends to lean on.

But, you felt alone. You felt so alone.

Michael, Mike. Michael was the one who made you feel alone. You loved him. God, you loved him more than anything. You loved him so much. You loved how caring he was. How sweet he could be. How considerate he was. You loved every inch of him and every inch of what he did for you. He was so considerate of your feelings; he never pushed you to do things you weren't ready for. So, why did his words hurt you so much? Why did his actions make you feel so small and worthless?

Why?

It had only been a few months since you started dating, and everything seemed to be perfect. He was charming, sweet, and an all-around amazing guy. You were so happy with him. He was everything you wanted in a boyfriend, and you were over the moon with how everything was going. He even seemed to care for you; at least, that's what you thought.

He had been distant for the past few weeks. You found yourself seeing Abby more often than you did Mike. You would wake up, and he wouldn't be there, only to find him passed out on the couch or working on a late project in the kitchen.

He said he was fine, but you knew he wasn't. You could tell he wasn't okay. You knew something was bothering him, but he never opened up to you about what it was. You thought about telling him it was okay. That he could talk to you about anything, he didn't need to keep it bottled up. He didn't need to worry you like that.

You did eventually open your mouth to say something about how he was feeling, but before you could even get the words out, he shut you down. He said he was fine that you were overreacting. That you needed to worry about yourself more and stop thinking about his feelings all the time. You just needed to trust him.

You believed him. You foolishly believed him until it all came crashing down. During one of your many late nights babysitting Abby for him, you accidentally stumbled upon papers that he left on the coffee table. One of which was a delinquency notice dated back to last week. He was behind on rent and had a couple of other bills that were due soon. You didn't want to add to his stress, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to try and help him with those.

Apparently, it did hurt. It hurt enough to make him snap at you when you decided to approach him the night before about it. Abby was tucked into bed in her room for the night, so you decided it would be a good opportunity to talk to him just as he was about to leave. How stupid you were. How naive. You didn't know what he was going to say, but you had no idea he was going to get so angry. So angry, in fact, that it ended up waking Abby up.

You felt your stomach churn at the memory of his voice getting louder, your name getting harsher, the tone of his words getting angrier.

"I said I can take care of myself, just like I've always done." He was livid, his face red with anger. He was trying to keep his cool, but it seemed that it was just too much for him. "Why do you have to get involved? Just butt out, alright?"

"I just want to help, Mike. You shouldn't have to pay for everything on your own. I just want to be there for you, like you are for me," you said, reaching out for his hands, but he pulled away from you.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I can handle this on my own. I've been doing this on my own for a long time," he told you, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want to be touched, you could tell.

"You're right," you admitted. "You're an adult; you've been taking care of yourself for a long time, and I shouldn't try to change that. But I'm here, okay? I'm here for you and for Abby. And I'm not trying to take care of you; I'm just trying to help you. Just let me help you."

"What the hell do you think this is?!" Mike practically screamed at you. "You think this is easy?! You think I don't want to get out of debt, huh? Do you think I like being in debt? I don't! But it's my fault, and it's my job to take care of it!"

"Mike, calm down! Abby is sleeping in the next—" You tried to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear any of it. He was too mad. He was too angry. He turned and grabbed his car keys, turning back to look at you, the hurt and anger evident in his eyes.

"Abby isn't your concern; she's my responsibility. She's my sister, not yours. You're just—" Mike stopped himself, not wanting to say the next thing that came to his head. But you were right there, in front of him, looking up at him with eyes full of hurt. You were so close, so close he could see the tears glistening in your eyes.

“I'm just… what, Mike?" You asked him, your voice hitching. The tears that you had been holding back began to fall. You were at a breaking point; you didn't know how to feel anymore. You didn't know what you were feeling. All you knew was that your boyfriend just screamed at you and hurt you with his words.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over your shoulder to see Abby standing there. She looked up at her brother with wide eyes and a confused expression. She looked from Mike to you, then to her hand that was on your shoulder. You felt numb. You couldn't believe what was happening.

"Abby…" Mike took a deep breath. "Abby, go back to bed, okay? I'll be back soon." He gave her a soft smile. The one he always gave you when you needed it. She looked up at him, giving him the same sad look she was giving you. She rubbed her eyes and walked back into her room, closing the door behind her. Mike turned his attention back to you, but he didn't say anything. He looked like he had more to say, but the words just didn't come out.

And that was the last time you saw him.

You spent the next couple of hours curled up on the floor, crying until you couldn't cry anymore. You tried to sleep in the own comfort of your bed, but every time you closed your eyes, you would see his face. His angry face. The face he made at you the last time you spoke. The face he made when he screamed at you. You hated it. You hated everything about it.

It was around six in the morning when you decided to finally leave your room. It was cold outside, but you didn't care. You needed some fresh air. You needed to get out of there for a little bit. You needed to get away from the suffocating apartment, the suffocating situation. You needed to get away from everything that reminded you of Mike. You walked down the hall to the patio, and you were almost to it when you heard the faint knock on the door.

You stood at the entrance to the living room, listening to the faint knocks. It was the first time in hours that you heard a sound other than your own voice. Your eyes were glued to the door, your hands in fists as you listened. And listened. And listened. It felt like an eternity before you finally decided to get the courage to walk up and answer it, reaching for the knob and pulling it open.

There, standing on the other side of the door, was your boyfriend. Michael was standing there, staring back at you. His face wasn't angry. He wasn't mad anymore. He didn't look sad either. He didn't look like anything at all. He looked blank, empty. Like he didn't have any emotions, his eyes were void of the emotions that you loved so much.

He wore his security vest, the little medallion dangling in front of his chest. He had his name tag attached to it, and you realized he came straight from work. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess, sticking out at the side. His posture was slouched, his shoulders hanging low. He looked exhausted. But he was there, and he was standing right in front of you like he was the one who had been waiting for so long. Like he was the one who was worried.

"Hi," he spoke quietly. He almost whispered. It was soft, and it was quiet. His voice was scratchy and dry. He was trying to smile, but he was trying so hard to force one that it hurt you to see it. You felt a sharp pain in your chest at the sight of him. "Can we… Can we talk?"

"What are you doing here, Michael? You need to be home for Abby." You felt the lump in your throat rise up as you spoke. You could feel the tears coming back to your eyes, and you knew he saw them. He was always good at seeing through you.

"I couldn't go home knowing we're not okay." He looked at you with the saddest look you had ever seen. The look made you want to cry again. You didn't want to cry anymore.

"I… I can't right now," you said, moving to close the door in front of you. "I need some time to think." You started to shut the door, but his hand was quick to stop you from closing it. He put his foot in between the door and the frame and held the door open.

"Please," he begged, practically whining. He was so desperate. You knew he was desperate. You could see it in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed, and how he was clenching his jaw. "I know I shouldn't have said what I did last night. I was just… I was just angry. I didn't mean what I said, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to lose you because of my shit."

"Mike…" you started, but he cut you off.

"I'm just not used to having someone around all the time… Having someone help me. I know I get angry easily; Fuck, I know I'm stubborn. I know that I get mad at myself a lot because I'm not perfect, but I'm trying. I really am. For the longest time, it's just been Abby and I and no one else. I never really had someone who was willing to take care of me… and I've always been fine. I'm fine." Mike shook his head. "But I don't want to be just fine anymore. I want to be happy, and I want to be happy with you."

You felt a fresh set of tears fall from your eyes. You couldn't help it. The words were too much for you to handle. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you with his big hazel eyes, and how his voice cracked as he spoke. He looked like he had more to say, but he didn't. He just looked at you. He looked like he was searching for something. And you realized it was your forgiveness. He was waiting for your forgiveness. He was waiting for you to give him another chance.

You thought about all the times he opened up to you. All the times he let you in, and you helped him out when he needed it. You thought about how he was there when you needed him to be. You thought about how he would smile at you when you needed him to, how he would make you smile even on your worst days.

"I think you owe a dollar for the swear jar, maybe more," you spoke softly, looking up at him with your red, puffy eyes. He gave you a confused look, but he soon realized what you were talking about. He chuckled as he wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, Abby," he apologized, acting like he was talking to his little sister. She wasn't here right now, but you knew he still felt like he needed to apologize to her for his actions, too. He always felt the need to apologize. He felt the need to try and be a better brother. To try and be a better son. He looked at you with those big eyes of his. The same eyes you fell in love with.

"Hug?" you asked, a small smile gracing your face. You didn't know why you asked, but you did. You felt the lump in your throat slowly ease up, and you finally felt the air in your lungs start to flow. He smiled back at you, opening his arms, and you stepped into them, burying your face in his shoulder.

He pulled away and kissed your forehead, resting his on top of yours. He rubbed your back as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt safe and warm. He felt like everything that was missing.

"I still don't want you covering the debt," he told you. "But… I'll take the help. I can take the help. I'll take it as long as it's you." You could hear him smiling, and you squeezed him tighter.

"Of course. Of course."

Everything was falling back into place. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't fixed. There was still so much to work out, but it was starting to feel a little better. You felt a little better. You felt a little more whole again. The ache in your heart wasn't so bad. It was bearable, and you could finally breathe again.

"You can let go of me now." Mike's voice was muffled against the top of your head, and you realized you were squeezing him too tight.

Still, you didn't let go. "No, you're warm," you said, smiling into his chest.

He let out a small sigh, shaking his head. "Is this my punishment? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?"

"It could be worse. I could still be mad at you," you replied, kissing the side of his neck.

"Well, in that case," he suddenly grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder. He laughed as you yelped out in surprise, flailing your limbs. You felt the world turn upside down, and you screamed as he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. "Let me show you how sorry I am."

He might've ended up causing Abby to be late to school that morning, but it was okay. It was okay because you were laughing. You were smiling, and most of all, you were happy.

You were happy because even though it wasn't perfect, he was trying. He was trying to make things better for himself and for you. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like you were finally home.