#maybe it was to spare Michael’s feelings or whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaiser1ns · 8 months

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𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: you hated him from the moment he showed up at the bastard munchen tryouts — you can't stand him, it's impossible, or so you thought.

╹contents :: 8.9 k words aka word vomit, fluff and two kind of suggestive scenes,mostly pre-timeskip kaiser, reader is football fanatic, kaiser loves to annoy her(he is just in love with her), just one teenager denying their feelings while the other is clearly in love, mentions of her parents - to clarify they are not dead !, mentions of real players from the actual club bayern munchen, i don't know if I can put this in the slow burn section? she hates him but she loves him.

╹notes :: 100 followers special i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this, please spare me. sorry for any grammar mistakes, hope you enjoy! for my one and only, and big thanks to @kooriou 🤍

You hated Michael Kaiser from the first moment he stepped into Bastard München Academy, an instant wave of annoyance washed over you. His arrogance and presence got on your nerves, making it impossible to even look at him. But you had to — that was your job as a future assistant coach for the best team in Germany, and who knows maybe you can snatch your uncle's position as manager.

As the tryouts unfolded, you observed him closely, jotting down notes on his skills and trying to give him some initial stats, which to your dismay were either tier A or S. Despite the irritation, there was no point in lying, he was outstanding and he knew what he was doing - or rather, he knew what he wanted. You saw as he teamed up with the boy who wore the jersey with number 20. They made up a pretty good duo, and with Ness's passes and Kaiser's fast attacks, no one could stop them.

Perhaps beneath the thorny exterior, Michael Kaiser was the player Bastard München looked for—someone who could elevate them to new heights. As the final whistle blew, you already knew the outcome that they would both be accepted into the team, and you'd have to get used to seeing his face almost every day. You got up and walked over to your uncle as all the recruits were lined up, looking at them, as your eyes landed on the striker with with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue rose tattoo on his neck. You stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows and with squinted eyes, a silent expression of displeasure etching across your face.

In that subtle gesture, frustration found a physical form; it was a language spoken without words, a non-verbal protest to whatever disturbance had disrupted your peace — and the one who caused it starred back at you, smirking smugly at you, but he turned back to listen to the coach's speech.

"And with that, we welcome you in Bastard Munchen. We hope you will meet and exceed our expectations, and now I will give the word to my niece Y/N who will also work with all of you youngsters." You were still lost in the staring contest with the boy who paid you no mind, and now everyone looked at you, some were getting scared seeing you so oppressed by something; were they that bad that the coach had to ask his niece about another opinion?

Your uncle cleared his throat, making you come back to the real world, a little taken back from the sudden shift of focus. "Ah, yes, of course." as you stood there with all of your glory and pride like you were the president and everyone waited for your long waited speech "As the future of Bastard Munchen, you will be the ones to continue the legacy set by the club's legendary players. Work hard so you can achieve your goals, as you should always believe in yourself. Make every impossibility a reality."

Your words echoed through the training grounds, making the boys happy to hear something from a beautiful girl - in one way or another, something had to keep them going. As you finished your speech, you caught his eye again, but this time, there was a glimmer of amusement. Was there anything wrong with the things you said? You tried your best to sound like every coach who talks to their team with all the "work hard and give your best shot" stuff. You hope you won't become like that in the future.

Your uncle nodded approvingly, signaling the end of the meeting. The boys started leaving one by one, but the blue-eyed genius stayed, approaching you with confidence.

”Impressive speech, Little Miss, but actions speak louder than words, don't they?" he remarked with a smirk, leaving you with a mix of irritation. You haven't even known each other for a day and you already want to gouge out his eyes. "Talk about yourself, Mister. Show results, and then talk to me again."

Kaiser chuckled, his smile growing wider as he came closer to you, rising a hand as he delicately slid his fingers under your chin, lifting it ever so slightly, your breath hitched from the sudden move.

"We share some similar goals, I will give you that. Be sure to watch me making the impossible your new reality." he walked away, leaving you standing there like a statue - a blushing statue at that.

You definitely hate him.

WEEK 2 AFTER THE TRYOUTS:

In the following weeks, as training sessions progressed and the team started bonding, you couldn't deny that Michael's skills were exceptional. Despite his arrogant attitude, there was a reason why he wore that smug expression. The team was carried by his influence, and you found yourself unfortunately acknowledging his impact. Kaiser Impact, huh? That’s one way to call it.

He approached you, the smirk replaced by a genuine smile. "Not bad, right? I noticed the way you looked only at me," he said, as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your composure as you handed him a water bottle "Don't get too comfortable now. This doesn't mean you're off the hook. There's still a long way to go."

The blonde boy chuckled, seemingly unfazed, taking the bottle from your hand, making your fingers briefly touch as he kept eye contact. "I wouldn't want it any other way, Prinzessin. Now what are my stats? I’m sure they went higher." You shot him a skeptical glance, unimpressed by his playfulness. "Stats? Do you mean your nonexistence score? Like in a video game or something," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

He laughed at your comment. "Maybe not a game, but God's challenge, and I'm here to be the best of the best and eventually surpass Noel Noa," he replied with a cocky grin.

Rolling your eyes once more, you couldn't deny the feeling you had when talking back at him. "Fine, let's humor your challenge sent from above for a moment. Strength: still lacking, form: needs improvement, and humility: nonexistent," you assessed, ticking off imaginary boxes in the air. "But hey, you did manage to catch my attention for being the most annoying person I have ever met, so I'll give you that."

Kaiser raised his eyebrows, took a sip from the water bottle, and said, "Well, Prinzessin, catching your attention is just another bonus for me." You scoffed, "Smooth talker, aren't you? But like you said actions speak louder than words, so do me a favor and leave me alone, you are not the only one who has to work hard."

His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he took a step closer, narrowing the distance between you. "Oh, I plan on proving myself in more ways than one. Consider this just the beginning." With that, he went back to the others, leaving you to wonder whether he was genuinely committed to improving or just enjoying getting under your skin.

Deciding to continue your work – which for now was to arrange the water and the towels ready for the players – paying no mind to the world around you, until you felt a hand on your shoulder, thinking it was Kaiser again, but it was your uncle - the head coach. His touch was firm yet comforting, a familiar presence amidst the chaos made by the young athletes.

You turned around, a mixture of surprise and relief coloring your expression. Your uncle, Franz Bauer, wore a knowing smile that hinted comfort “How are you doing so far, Y/N? Is something or rather someone bothering you?” He spoke in a low, reassuring tone. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, grateful for your uncle's concern, but you found it strange how he always knows and notices when you have trouble.

"I'm managing, Uncle Franz," you replied, a faint smile on your lips. "Just the usual, dealing with boys my age. Nothing that I can't handle."

His gaze held a depth of understanding, and as he nodded at you. "I appreciate the help. You know, you remind me of my younger self because I too was an errand kid."

He wanted something from you, and you knew it by the way he started to talk about how much you were like him as a child. He always does it. "Just get to the point. Is there anything specific you want me to do?"

Franz laughed slightly ”You do catch up quickly,” his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "I've been observing you, and I can't help but notice the way you look at the team, wanting to comment on the formations, the positions, and the players themselves. I've been thinking about expanding your role in the team, perhaps as an assistant coach."

The proposition caught you off guard, and your eyes widened in surprise. "Assistant coach? Uncle, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure I have the experience for that."

He placed a hand on your shoulder again, a reassuring squeeze. "Well, you will be an assistant coach in training. Experience is gained through opportunities, Y/N. I see potential in you, a natural talent." your eyes widen suddenly “So, for the rest of the training session, you will be the boss.”

“But I-” he cut you off by standing behind you and pushing you forward “No objections, or I'll call your parents to pick you up. You don’t want that, right?” having no time to answer, you were next to the other coaching staff as your uncle gave a thumbs up from the benches with water and towels. That old bastard Well, you better be here training some naive and arrogant footballers, than being home studying economics.

Taking a deep breath, you accepted the challenge, even if you didn't want to. As you stepped onto the field, the weight of the whistle in your hand felt foreign, yet empowering. The players eyed you curiously, some exchanging glances, unsure of what to make of this sudden change. Gathering the team you began to give orders. "You will go against the first team and clash with amazing players like Noel Noa, Thomas Muller, Manuel Neuer and Joshua Kimich. But let go of the thoughts about the big bad wolves chasing you - you shall become the chaser." Your uncle watched from the sidelines as if he knew something you didn't. "So for starters, we are changing the formation to 4-2-3-1 as Kaiser will be the top of the attack, Ness you will be the attacking midfielder so you gotta keep an eye on blondie over here, but also beware of your rivals. "

The players exchanged glances again, as Kaiser and Ness shared a look - shocked at your words. Is this even going to work? Is she for real? You took a moment to gauge their reactions before continuing. "Remember, this is a training session, and mistakes are welcomed. Now, destroy them."

As the training progressed, the intensity of the practice match increased, with each player giving their best to impress you. As the team executed the adjusted formation, you observed them. Kaiser made strategic moves upfront, Ness showcased skillful ball control, and the defense held its ground against the opponents.

In a surprising turn of events, the U-20 team began to dominate the match. GOAL, As you blew the final whistle after Kaiser scored the 5th and final goal of the game, ending practice. He looked at you, and again with that smile - full of self-confidence. You wanted to throw the whistle at his stupid-looking face. The sidelines erupted in cheers from the staff as your uncle gave you an approving nod, acknowledging the success of your "coaching debut", approaching you with a proud smile. "See, Y/N? You have it in you. You made them believe in the impossible about beating the old dogs, and they did it."

After the game, the players gathered around for a brief post-match discussion. The atmosphere was a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Kaiser, still riding the high of his decisive goal, approached you with a smirk.

"Well, well, well, Y/N. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd make me the star of the show," he said putting his arm on your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let his teasing get to you. "This was just a practice match. Let's see if you can replicate this performance in a real game."

He chuckled, "Oh, I plan on it. Just watch, Y/N."

Ness, who had been listening to the conversation, chimed in, "I have to admit, I didn't think this would work, but it did. Maybe you're not as clueless as I thought."

You shot him a glare, "Yeah, thanks Ness." The purple-haired grinned, "No problem. Just keeping you on your toes."

As the midfielder went away, sensing that his partner wanted alone time with you, Kaiser lingered for a moment, a more genuine expression on his face. "You know, Y/N, for a moment there, I almost thought you enjoyed it. Admit it being in charge, making your own choices..."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Kaiser. This was just one game. We'll see how things go in an actual game."

Kaiser looked at you, his grip tightening. "Fair enough. But, if you ever need to test some tactics, you know where to find me~."

You scoffed, removing his hand from your shoulder, "I'm not going to Hell, thank you." he continued to look at you in a way unknown to you, making you feel kinda strange "Well, maybe just a quick visit. You might find it surprisingly pleasant." You rolled your eyes again, but there was something in your chest that you were very unfamiliar with. "I'll consider it, but this doesn't mean I like you or anything."

The boy chuckled, a teasing sound coming from his lips. "Oh, I'm not expecting you to confess your undying love for me just yet, Y/N. But I have to admit, that was flattering." You shot him a skeptical look, feeling a little hot for some unknown reason. Are you getting sick? No, that shouldn’t be it, maybe is the adrenaline, yeah that’s it.

"Is that your idea of a compliment?" He shrugged, noticing how your checks started to turn red "Take it however you want. Just remember, I'm always up for a challenge, especially if it involves the impossible of winning you over, Erdbeere(Strawberry)."

You raised an eyebrow at the unexpected nickname, playing on your face. "Erdbeere? Really?"

Kaiser grinned, undeterred by your reaction. "It suits you. Sweet, but with a bit of a bite. Plus, it's fun to see that tough exterior of yours crack a little."

You sighed, realizing that arguing with him would only fuel his teasing. "Whatever. Just focus on keeping up with the same performance as today"

He winked playfully, "Oh, I'll keep up, Erdbeere. Count on it."

as Kaiser turned to leave, his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary. The teasing smile on his face softened, revealing a hint of something more genuine. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he said, his tone unexpectedly earnest.

You watched him go, and as the distance between you and him grew, you felt something. It was a feeling you couldn't quite describe, leaving you to question it.

Alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay the conversation and the teasing remarks in your mind. Kaiser's parting words echoed, and the unexpected nickname he made up for you.

"Erdbeere," you whispered to yourself, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you liked the sound of it - just maybe, you will let it slide this time.

WEEK 4 AFTER THE TRYOUTS:

After the whole fiasco with the practice match and the “Strawberry incident”, as you liked to call it, the work in the facility was getting harder - running left and right to do tasks, printing documents, ordering equipment, dealing with the teasing remarks of this annoyingly tall boy with long gold locks and light blue eyes deep as the ocean you will let him drown. If he was on fire and you had a bottle of water - you'd drink it in front of him. Yet, amid the chaos, Michael Kaiser always managed to appear, like a haunting ghost, ready to jumpscare you in the most unexpected time.

One day, rushing to deliver some documents to the medical unit, he appeared beside you. His smirk was infuriatingly present, and his voice dripped with playful arrogance.

"Running again, Y/N? You should consider joining the team as a midfielder with all that sprinting you're doing." You shot him a warning look "Maybe if you spent less time making comments and more time working, we'd get things done faster."

Kaiser chuckled, unbothered. "Ah, but where's the fun in that? I'm just trying to lighten the mood, you are always so stressed."

"Your idea of 'fun' is questionable." you said, trying to ignore the strange flutter in your stomach that his teasing somehow managed to evoke.

As you reached the department of the medical unit, you thought you finally got rid of him. However, fate had other plans. On your way back, he appeared again, blocking your way. His tall frame casted a shadow over you, and his mischievous smile widened.

"Michael, move." you demanded with the use of his first name, trying to sound stern, but he merely leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"What's the rush, Y/N? Can't I talk to my amazing assistant coach?" he retorted, his eyes never leaving yours.

Annoyed, you attempted to sidestep him, but he effortlessly mirrored your movements. It became a silent dance, a game of cat and mouse in the narrow corridor. Every step you took, he countered, maintaining his blockade.

"Are you always this stubborn, or is it just for me?" he teased, a playful smile playing on his lips.

"Seriously, Kaiser, this isn't funny," you protested, feeling the irritation building up.

But he remained still, his teasing facade never fading. "Come on, now, Don't lie to yourself, you secretly enjoy our little meetings. The way your eyes light up when you see me says it all."

You scoffed, sticking out your tongue, "In your dreams." Deciding you'd had enough, you abruptly turned on your heel and started walking in the opposite direction. To your dismay, he followed, like a persistent shadow. The facility's corridors echoed with the sound of your hurried footsteps and his leisurely ones behind you until the two of you found yourselves in an empty, dimly lit room.

"Honestly what's your deal? Are you stalking me now? You like stalking girls? That's disgusting." you accused, narrowing your eyes.

He chuckled, leaning his back to the wall once again, while you were in the center of the room. "Stalking is such a harsh word. Let's call it... coincidental alignment of paths."

You groaned, turning to leave. However, in your haste, you tripped over your own feet and stumbled forward. In a split second, Kaiser went off the wall as he reached out his hands attempting to catch you mid-fall. Despite his efforts, fate had its way again, and you both fell, as you landed on top of him. Your arms were at the sides of his head, and your legs wrapped around his torso.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, your eyes widened in surprise, your face millimeters from his, your lips slightly parting as you felt your whole body burning as your heart raced to the rhythm of an unspoken melody. Seeing his features closer, he was beautiful, and now you are the one drowning in the deep blue ocean that his eyes painted. You didn't know what was going on — you didn't know what emotions you were going through, as Kaiser's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, an unfamiliar but very welcomed warmth spread over your body.

"I-I didn't mean to—this wasn't what I—"

"I've heard of falling for someone, but this is taking it quite literally," He teased, breaking the silence with his flirting, snapping you out of your trance.

You struggled to maintain your composure as you shuttered, attempting to push yourself off him. "G-get off me," your heart continued its upbeat dance, and you couldn't shake off the vivid image of his blue eyes that seemed to have cast a spell on you.

"Technically, you are on top of me, Prinzessin" blushing furiously as Kaiser's teasing smirk only fueled your embarrassment, making you wish the ground would swallow you whole. The room felt like it had turned into a sauna, the tension thick enough to be cut off with a knife.

Just as the bickering reached its peak, the door swung open, and Ness, the ever-curious magician, stood in the doorway. His eyes widened at the scene before him, feeling a little confused at the sight.

"Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?" Ness quirked an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between Y/N and Kaiser. The two of you exchanged a quick, panicked glance, unsure of how to respond. "Yes/No!," Kaiser and you blurted out, your faces turning even redder. Kaiser, unfazed by the interruption, grinned, while you desperately tried to stay calm as possible.

Ness raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his lips. "Really? Because it looks like I walked in on a very romantic moment of your little play. Do I need to put on some slowed music?" He walked into the room, closing the door behind him as he continued to stare at the two of you. "I had no idea I was walking into a romantic drama." You shot a glare at Kaiser, who only winked in response. Trying to divert the attention, you stammered, "N-no, Ness, it's not what you think. We were just..." Your voice trailed off as you struggled to come up with a plausible excuse.

He, on the other hand, couldn't resist. "Well, it depends on your definition of interrupting." Ness chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to your... whatever this is." The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by your attempts to get up from Kaiser. "We were just, uh, having a disagreement," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact with both Ness and Kaiser.

Kaiser, ever the charmer, grinned at Ness. "Disagreements can be quite physical, apparently." Ness shook his head, still grinning. "Well, carry on, then. I'll just pretend I didn't see anything." As he left the room, he couldn't resist adding, "But next time, maybe lock the door." As the door closed behind Ness, you let out a breath you didn't realize were holding. Kaiser, however, couldn't help but laugh. "Quite the entrance, huh? Maybe we should argue more often."

Rolling your eyes at Kaiser's comment, you finally managed to free yourself from his grasp as you stood up in the fastest way possible, and he also rose from the ground. "Arguing more often? I think once is more than enough," you retorted, shooting him a disapproving look. Kaiser, still grinning, stretched lazily and got up from the floor. Ness's interruption had shifted the atmosphere in the room, and you couldn't shake off the embarrassment that lingered. "Thanks a lot for that," you muttered, shooting Kaiser another glare.

Seemingly unbothered, he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Me? I didn't do anything. Ness just has unpredictable timing." He winked again, causing you to shake your head in disbelief. "Unpredictable timing, my foot. When will you stop with all of this? I can’t even have one peaceful day without you talking to me and saying all these things that you probably don’t even mean. Does it feel nice to play with someone’s feelings?"

Kaiser's smile faltered for a moment, his lively expression fading away as he saw yours. "Maybe I overdo it sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't care."

You studied him for a moment, unsure whether to believe his sincerity or dismiss it as another one of his tricks. "Actions speak louder than words, Kaiser. If you genuinely care, maybe try showing it in a way that doesn't involve constant teasing and sarcasm."

The tension between you and him lingered as you both stared into each other's eyes trying to find answers locked in the depth of your souls. Finally, you decided it was time to leave "I'm going to go find Ness and make sure he doesn't go spreading any rumors," you announced, turning to leave the room. As you walked away, your mind was a swirling mess of emotions—something you couldn’t tell. He was still vivid in your thoughts, causing a knot to tighten in your stomach. As you looked behind, he was still there dusting off his clothes.

You furrowed your brows, awaiting the unknown territory of your own feelings. The warmth creeping into your cheeks and the soft tears started to paint over your face like rain. It was an unfamiliar sense, leaving you questioning the source. Was it just fire or something deeper that can get you burned?

1 WEEK LATER:

As the days passed, you found yourself avoiding him, unsure of what to think or feel. Everything was so messed up, that you barely slept or ate - when you were not helping your uncle in the faculty, you were at school, where suddenly your grades dropped, and you made excuses for your teachers and friends that you were busy with work - which is partly not a lie but not the whole truth either. Everyone sensed that something was troubling you, even so, you'd rather not tell a single living soul about it all. You couldn't escape the memories of that day, replaying the moment in your mind like a broken record.

Lost in thought, you didn’t realize that someone was next to you as you continued to pour water into the already full bottle that was overflowing over the sink until the person in question shook you by the shoulders. Without much reaction you turned around, your gaze clearly showing the sadness and lifelessness all over your face, you were tired of thinking about him. Your focus returned, the person in front of you was your uncle who was visibly worried about you. "What's going on, my dear? You know you can share everything with your old man" he said, the pain in his eyes to see his niece so down for the past week “It’s nothing … I am just trying to manage school and work.” Another lie left your lips.

Uncle Franz placed a gentle smile on his face. "I've known you since you were a kid. I can see through that facade. Something's eating you inside, and it's more than just school and work. Talk to me." You sighed, the weight of the past week bearing down on you. "It's just complicated, Uncle. I don't know how to put it into words."

He guided you to sit down at the bench near the sink, "Try me. I might be old, but I've been around the block a few times. I am sure it’s a boy problem. Because your mother was the same when she met your dad.”

How does he know it’s about a boy? Honestly, that was shocking to hear. Does he know about the strange situationship between you and Kaiser? Well, you hope he doesn't. Taking a deep breath, you began, "There's this boy, that I met not long ago, and let's say some things happened, and now I'm stuck in this mess. I can't escape it, and it's tearing me apart."

Your uncle listened intently, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Love can be a tricky thing, my dear. But keeping it all bottled up inside won't help. Who is this guy, and what happened?" Is that what they call love? Feeling this way because it's terrible not knowing what you want from yourself—you hesitated to answer, unsure if you want to share the details. "It's just someone, not a big deal."

“It’s Michael, isn’t it?” Your eyes widened upon your uncle’s question, and your eyes started to water, as you tried your best not to cry again. Starting to have a thing for someone is a hell of a ride, so you are going to play dumb "I don't know a person by that name." Not that dumb.

Uncle Franz leaned back. "You can deny it all you want, my dear, but your eyes just told me everything I needed to know." Feeling a mix of embarrassment, you laughed nervously, “I think you should go and get your eyes checked, you are starting to see things.” he looked at you with raised eyebrows, apparently he didn't believe you - no one would in those circumstances.

"Okay, maybe it is Michael. But it's complicated. He's so confusing, and I don't even know what he wants."

Uncle Franz patted your head ruffling your hair, "You don't know because you haven't tried talking to him. You should not be scared; just do what your heart wants.” and maybe he was right, he was always right. You just smiled at him, whipping your tears, letting him know you would try - someday eventually. “But if he hurts you one more time, we will have serious problems.” You laughed nervously, should you be scared or just revealed - guess there's one way to find out.

He stood up from the bench looking at you once more "Now cheer up and come with me, there is something I need to tell everyone on the team” and you also went with him, going into the field where they practiced.

A whistle signaled it was time for a break. Everyone gathered around the benches as you stayed closely behind your uncle, who clapped his hands, turning everyone's attention onto him, except for the boy with the blond hair who was looking at you. He took a good look at you - first at your lips, which were stuck together like a solid line, then your eyes, they shimmered with traces of sadness, yet beneath the surface, something else lingered, revealing your soul. Each glance reflected the emotions within your heart. Have you been crying? Is it because of me? He couldn't shake the feeling that he was probably the reason for your sorrow. As the others chatted, he found himself unable to look away, his attention remained fixed on you, trying to ignore the questions swirling in his mind.

“Even if it’s a friendly game with Dortmund’s U-20, we should give our best, okay? Make sure to get enough sleep and don’t skip your meals, it’s important to have your body and mind in top shape.” your uncle's voice spoke once more as the rest of the team could be heard agreeing on the upcoming friendly game with the club's biggest rival “And Kaiser you better be excellent, no missing targets, no missing shots, no mistakes. I want you to be focused next week, on the maximum output, got it?” then the coach addressed him specifically, and for the first time, Kaiser was somewhat frightened by his look, which held something very personal against him. “Yes, sir. I will do my best” he replied, masking his uneasiness with confidence. “Good, now the training is over. You can go to your dorms and rest.”

And with that, everyone scattered, leaving just the two of you, feeling his gaze still lingering on. His blue eyes seemed to be looking into your soul, he knew what was wrong with you and that he was the reason behind it all. He wanted to apologize to you, he really did, but something was stopping him and he didn't know what exactly. Come on, say something. Alas nothing came out from his mouth, and you just turned and left without saying a word, even if you wanted to talk to him too — you didn't, leaving him with his feeling of guilt.

A FEW DAYS LATER:

The day for the team to leave for Dortmund came, as there were no problems with the flight, but now you were at the hotel, where a big misunderstanding occurred. Being part of the female staff, you had to share a room with one of them, but the hotel receptionist thought you were part of the boy’s team, being a teenager. While everyone was settled, you stayed in the lobby as your uncle talked with the hotel staff, and Ness and Kaiser stood across from you on the sofa. The two of them were talking, and you were lost in thoughts about whether a room would be found for you.

Your uncle returned from the reception "The problem is solved," he said as you were more than happy to go to your room and enjoy some alone time, "But you will have a room tomorrow, because some of the guests will be leaving then," and your smile faded away, faster than it appeared.

At that moment, Ness nudged Kaiser's shoulder signaling him to act, "I can share my room with you." the striker offered, the keys hanging from his hand with a slight smile on his face. Your eyes widened when you heard the offer. “Absolutely no-”

"Fine, but no funny business." your uncle cut you off, as you looked at him with the most shocked face, your gaze met Kaiser's who had been staring at you this whole time. They can't be serious, you thought, Uncle Franz can't be serious. You mentally facepalmed yourself, having enough headaches, this was just the icing on the cake.

Of all people of course it was him. What did you do in your past life to end up in such situations? Did you murder someone, poison a royalty, or haven’t paid your debt — well you sure are paying it now.

You got up and took the keys from his hand, eyeing him suspiciously, as you got your luggage and went to the elevator before telling him not to bother you. Well, that wasn't the conversation Kaiser hoped to have with you, but it's still something. He turned to look at your uncle, now that you were not here. “Coach, are you sure this is going to work?”

Franz chuckled, patting Kaiser on the shoulder. "Sometimes, putting people in unexpected situations helps them see things differently. Who knows, maybe sharing a room will sort the things between you two."

The boy sighed, unsure about how this would play out, as Ness patted him on the back "I just hope she doesn't make this more difficult than it already is."

“And I hope you won’t do anything more than talking. Like I said earlier, no funny business.” Kaiser just nodded “I promise."

Meanwhile, you were in the elevator, still processing the fact that you had to share a room with Kaiser, good thing you won’t sleep on the same bed. As the elevator arrived at your floor you took a deep breath and walked down the corridor, finding the room that matched the key. Opening the door, you were greeted with a very beautiful interior, a nice view of the lively night in Dortmund and ... one bed. Great, things can’t get any worse, can they?

Placing your suitcase by the bed, opening it and pulling out your pajamas. You started to undress when you heard the door open, seeing wisps of blonde hair. Panicking you raised your voice to him not to enter the room as you were still in your underwear. God, how many awkward situations are there to overcome.

Kaiser froze at the door, his hand still on the handle, as he realized the awkward situation he had just walked into. "Sorry" he quickly averted his gaze. "I didn't know you were... I'll just wait outside.” He said, closing the tiny gap he left open.

You put on your pajamas faster than Usain Bolt can run. Once you were ready you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you went to open the door to let him enter. It was his room after all, you can't keep him outside even if you wanted to.

As you opened the door, Kaiser stood there, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, so were yours "I'm sorry about that," he apologized again "I should have knocked, or... I don't know, you should have locked the door. You know, it could have been some stranger.”

Well he was right, you should have locked the door and kept him outside to sleep on the carpet in the hallway. You didn't say anything, you just went and sat on the bed picking up the phone to check the time [22:22] well better make a wish. You ignored him as he sat on the other side of the bed so you were back to back.

Kaiser cleared his throat, breaking the silence, “I brought you this” he said, handing you a bar of chocolate, still faced with his back. As you took the chocolate you couldn't help but notice the warmth that was forming in your heart, despite the awkwardness. "Thanks," you muttered, feeling a bit guilty for your initial reaction earlier "I'm sorry too," you finally spoke up, turning slightly to face him. "I didn't mean to be rude to you. Well, maybe I did because you deserved it.”

He turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. "It's alright,Y/N” he said softly, turning around as his eyes met yours. You agreed, offering him a smile too. "So, uh, I'll just go get changed in the bathroom, and then we can go to sleep." You nodded your head again watching as he got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. As the door closed behind him, you let out a big sigh, silence enveloping you again. You decided to start making the bed while he was getting changed. Putting the extra pillows between the mattress, marking the ‘territory’ as you lay down and curled up under the covers of your part.

You heard the door open and then his footsteps approaching, looking up from the barricade he wore a plain white shirt that was more loose, revealing more of his blue rose tattoo, it was a beautiful design you can't lie, and a pair of black shorts. He too looked at the pillowed wall, then at you with raised brows. “If you don't want to share a bed, I can sleep on the couch.”

“Not that I don't want to, but the couch is too small and neither you nor I can sleep comfortably on it. So that's why I put pillows in the middle, you have your part, and I have mine.” you explained, leaving him a little bit hurt because of this separation, but whatever you are comfortable with, of course. “Well, sure”

He got under his covers, trying to get cozy but the wall next to him was something he wanted to remove. How much longer are you going to hide from him? Did you hate him so much that you didn't want to see him, in the room where you both were? Guess he will talk to you tomorrow.

No, fuck that. He isn't a scaredy cat anymore, he is not the mentally weak person who constantly gave up on things he believed to be impossible. Because the chance to make it up with you is now — it's not tomorrow, it's not the next day, week, month or year. It's now.

He sat up and removed the one pillow that was separating you from seeing your faces. Catching you, closing your eyes, observing your expression how you tried to keep this innocent sleeping face, and how your chest raised with every breath. You were a good assistant and 'architect', but not a good actress.

“Y/N, I know you are not sleeping,” he whispered your name, his voice soft and full of emotion. You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, well he got you no point of pretending now. “Let's discuss everything that has happened so far. We are all alone here, no one to interrupt us.”

You sat up too,leaning back on the wooden frame, hugging your knees beneath the fluffy cover. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and warm. He noticed your nervousness, and he reassured you, with a smile "It's okay, You can tell me anything." His voice was soothing, making you calm down.

You took a deep breath, struggling to form the words you had been holding back for so long. Your heart raced as you finally found the courage to speak, “I... I've been wanting to say... that I... I..." your voice trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you fought against your fear, this was meant to be an easy task, just to talk it out and end of story. But love is no easy task, it's a challenge that you either take and win or leave with the feeling of despair after the loss. You met his gaze, seeing nothing but love reflected back at you.

“I like you,” you finally confessed “And I didn't know what to do after all the bickering we had, you left me questioning my entire existence. Making me feel all giddy and nervous, making me confused about your own intentions.” you felt a weight lift off your chest, he listened absorbing every word you uttered.

The soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I like you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of sincerity that warmed your heart. "More than you can imagine."

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort he offered. "I'm sorry for everything," he murmured, his gaze filled with remorse and affection. "I never meant to hurt you. I didn't know how to approach you properly, and I wanted you to notice me. I wanted you to have eyes only for me and no one else, to think only of me. The only impossible challenge was to make you fall in love with me, but I don’t think I have to worry anymore ."

You shook your head gently, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his, feeling the warmth of his hand. You hesitated when your lips brushed against his own. You froze. What were you doing, kissing Michael Kaiser? You weren’t even sure if all the hatred you used to hold for him was now gone. He breathed in deeply. “Can I?" You took a moment of thought before you nodded, his hands now cupping your cheeks. His hands were so gentle, but the way he kissed you was not so much. It was like he was starving for you, the kiss sloppy, his tongue licking your lips, trying to taste all of you.

By the time he stopped, you forgot how to breathe, taking in a deep breath, and so did he. Despite how hot and hungry that kiss was—perhaps even able to fulfill a person's hunger for another—he was still starved for more. His lips brushed against yours once more, this time, there was no hesitation on your part. You leaned into the kiss, letting yourself get lost as you felt him smile.

His hands trailed down your arms as they settled on your waist, pulling you closer to him. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's embrace. As the kiss deepened, passion flared between you, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if trying to memorize the taste of you.

Time seemed not to exist anymore, as all that mattered was the feel of Kaiserl's lips against yours and the way his touch set your skin ablaze with desire. When the kiss finally ended, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to catch your breath. And as you stared into each other's eyes and as they say, eyes are windows to the soul, you knew one thing for sure — he will forever be yours, and you will be forever his.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, making you arise from your deep slumber, slowly opening your eyes, trying to remember where you were. You had a very strange dream where you got to share a room with Kaiser and you two kissed. It was a nice dream indeed but things like this happened only in the romantic movies.

You wanted to go to the bathroom, but something stopped you from standing up. Confusion was encountered because why was there anything stopping you from getting up. As you took in your surroundings, the details of the dream flooded back to you—the shared room, the confession, and most importantly the unexpected kiss. It felt so vivid, so real, that it left you questioning whether was it really a dream. Looking down to see the force that kept you in a place came not from anyone - but from Kaiser himself. Wait a damn minute, Kaiser!?, you thought to yourself panicking in the process.

Reaching out and touching Kaiser's shoulder, half expecting him to vanish like a fragment of your imagination, but be was very much real , as his soft breathing and light snores reassured you that he was peacefully asleep. He turned around, pulling you down again, your back leaning against his chest, as the warmth of his embrace enveloped you like a comforting blanket. It wasn't a dream. You were indeed lying beside Michael Kaiser.

Wait, so the kiss is real? No, it can't be... right? A million questions ran through your head as you felt him rest his head on the crook of your neck. You suddenly went numb, but tried to see his face one more time, and to your suprise he blinked, trying to open his eyes, with a smile so angelic, for a person with such devilish persona.

"Good morning, Meine Liebe" he said, his voice husky and raspy. You couldn't help but blush at they way these words came out from him, "Good morning," you managed to reply, your own voice contracts to his was soft, barely above a whisper.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. "About last night..." he started, trailing off as if searching for the right words.

"Yeah?" you gulped, suddenly feeling scared about what he might say next. "I meant every word ," he confessed, his gaze locking with yours. "And I meant that kiss too." Your heart skipped a beat, realizing that everything didn't happened in dreamland. It was real, just like the feelings between the both of you.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, feeling overwhelmed by his intense but loving gaze. "You don't have to," he assured you, moving the hand that rested behind your head to pinch the check he kissed you not a moment ago. "Just know that we are together from now on.”

As you absorbed his words, a mixture of disbelief and joy washed over you.

"Together, huh?" you echoed, seeking confirmation in his eyes. Kaiser nodded, his expression serious yet filled with a warmth that melted your worries away. "Yes, together. Me and you, like a couple."

A wide smile broke across your face, and you couldn't contain the happiness within you. "I like the sound of it.” you replied, as he smiled back at you. "Glad to hear that, Erdbeere." As you settled back into the warmth of his embrace, a comfortable silence wrapped around both of you.

"My uncle will kill you tho." Kaiser chuckled, as he played with your hair. "Don't worry about it, he won't."

Somewhere in the hotel restaurant, Uncle Franz was on the verge of killing the first thing he saw because Kaiser was late for breakfast, and so were you. “I am going to kill that boy.”

1 MONTH LATER:

Kaiser touched the strands of his overgrown and messy hair as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, "I need a change," he said to Ness, who was glad to do anything for his friend.

“Like a new hairstyle?” The magician asked, wondering what was wrong with his long hair. “Yeah, Y/N said that it was getting in the way, when we cuddled. And also tying it up while playing every second bothers me.”

“Well, I am willing to help, we should have scissors in the cupboards. Go sit while I find them.” the striker sat down in the chair in front of the mirror when his friend returned with the scissors.

With tentative snips and Ness transformed Kaiser's lion mane into a stylish cut, an improvised mullet you can say. As the blonde boy was looking at himself in the big bathroom mirror, and Ness admiring his final product a knock was heard from the door. You entered with a plastic bag full of snacks — it was their day off, so you thought you’d spoil them a little but.

Proudly, he turned to you, his girlfriend of one month, to hear your opinion. "Yes, definitely! And why not add something more? How about dying the mullet blue? It will match with your tattoo."

“Sounds nice, but we don't have blue dye right now.” Kaiser said, knowing that he will have to ask Ness to go to the store to buy one, “Don't worry, I do.”

“Liebe, why do you carry hair dye in your bag?” he asked, surprised by the fact you had the item in your backpack “Well, I thought you would need one, intuition I guess.” No, it wasn't an intuition, he just talked everyday about wanting to dye his hair blue and you decided to carry a blue dye, just in case.

Women's intuition is a scary thing, he will know from now on not to mess up anything, because either way, you'll find out. But that was a worry for another day, now Kaiser was very happy with the end results. And it's the Michael Kaiser you will see from now on.

7 YEARS LATER:

Inside a very beautiful and cozy home, you tried to catch your energetic daughter, Mikaela, who was bubbling with excitement as the day of her dad’s arrival from the football tournament marked on the calendar finally came. Her giggles filled the air as she darted around the house, her tiny feet pattering against the floor, as you yelled while holding your 9-month-old son Matteo in your arms, who was laughing and clapping his hands at the sight, as you attempted to catch the energetic 4-year-old girl. “Mika, please stop running around, or you will hurt yourself.”

“Mama, I can't hear you!” How can she take so much from him, but not me? Just as you attempt to hold onto her tiny hand, the doorbell chimes. "It's Daddy!" Mikaela rushes to the door tip-toeing to reach the handle of the metal and swings it open, revealing your husband standing there, a wide grin on his face at the sight of his daughter.

Kaiser's heart swells with joy at the sight of his daughter waiting for him at the door. He bends down to scoop her up in his arms, lifting her as she squeals with delight. "Hey there, my little princess!" he exclaims, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

As Mikaela showers him with hugs and kisses, Kaiser spots Matteo nestled in his wife's arms, a smile spreading across the baby's face as he reaches out his chubby arms towards his father. With a chuckle, Kaiser takes Matteo from you, exchanging a loving glance before enveloping you in a warm embrace, holding you close as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

But their tender moment is interrupted by Mikaela's voice piping up, "Daddy, what about me?" she pouts, her arms outstretched towards her father. Kaiser laughs heartily, balancing Matteo in one arm as he bends down to scoop Mikaela up into his arms once more. He showers her with kisses, making her giggle as he sets her down, as she eagerly reaches out for the brightly wrapped present he’s been hiding behind his back, giving you some time to see each other up close, and not from the small telephone screen.

But before Mikaela can even fully enjoy her new toy, Matteo starts wriggling in his arms. "My little boy missed me too, right?" he coos, as the baby starts laughing from happiness, kicking his little feet, "See Y/N, I told you he is a future football star. Look at that kick!"

As Kaiser holds Matteo, you wrap your arms around him again. "Welcome home, my love," you whisper, giving his lips a little peck. Kaiser returns the embrace, holding you close as he breathes in the familiar scent of home. Just when you think the moment couldn’t get any sweeter, Mikaela pipes up, tugging at Kaiser’s sleeve. "Daddy, what about me? I want more kisses too!" she exclaims, puckering her lips in exaggerated anticipation.

Kaiser chuckles warmly, bending down to scoop Mikaela up once again. "Of course, sweetheart," he says, planting a flurry of kisses on her cheeks as she laughs at her father's teasing and you watch with a smile on your face your small loving family, and how you can't ask for more because you have him and you love him more than anything.

#✧* 🤍 blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock fluff #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock fanfiction #michael kaiser fluff #michael kaiser x you

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blasphemecel · 5 months

Text

Michael Kaiser — Mean

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.4k TYPE: Fake dating, This is not fluff or angst but a secret third thing (with a cheerful ending) WARNING(S): Depersonalization/identity issues

The first time you meet Michael Kaiser, you get a bad impression.

Yeah, sure, he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation, anyway. You’ve met all sorts of unpleasant people in your life and he manages to disappoint even when the bar is so low, the only way to go lower is through digging.

You don’t exchange a word with him, but rather you have the misfortune of having to listen to him talk throughout the entire meeting. He starts countless arguments, some valid to an extent. You can tell he’s just doing this because he’s addicted to the sound of his voice and speaking to people like they’re unimportant specks of dust all while commanding their attention. There’s no point to his fussing either because he ends up signing the same contract you do.

Waste of your goddamn time — he might as well have not signed it and saved you the trouble, since the ordeal ends up lasting three hours because of him.

Maybe you should’ve not signed it yourself, but your PR manager was salivating at the idea of fake dating as a publicity stunt, especially with Kaiser who’ll be posing with you for a photoshoot in a few months, so you said ‘whatever’ and here you are. In this predicament with an insufferable man you imagine you won’t get along with, which already predisposes you to never giving him a chance.

___

The first time you speak to Michael Kaiser, you unsettle him.

It’s unlike him to feel disturbed, let alone at the slightest thing. He’s met all sorts of sickos, so he considers himself unflinching in the face of anyone who has anything off about them.

But he’s fifteen minutes late to the ‘date’ you’re supposed to use as a tool to subtly launch your fake relationship and he’s expecting a scolding. Kaiser spots you and heads in your direction, taking the seat in front with a shitty smirk and an ingenuine, half-assed apology on his lips.

What he gets in response is a blank look — almost… unimpressed, which naturally someone like Kaiser takes as a challenge and already sets the tone for the rest of the conversation — and it’s as if you’re staring into his soul. Then in an instant your expression flips to convincing joy, your warm smile contrasting his snide one, and you say, “Let’s act like we’re really stoked.”

A chill runs down his spine. On a logical level Kaiser knows you’re faking it, but it looks real, and that’s what he finds freaky. Also, the speed.

“Let’s not,” he says. “You’re weird,” he adds after you don’t respond.

You don’t react to this information either and settle for maintaining your smile.

The barista decides to spare him from having to look at you while you don’t say anything. He’s pretty sure you’re doing this deliberately, to torture him. When you attempt to order something, he talks over you and asks, “Can you give us one of those shitty milkshakes with two straws in them?”

She stares at him in bewilderment. “We don’t sell those,” she says eventually.

“Can you make one?”

“No…”

“You’re scum,” you tell him, dropping the happy facade. Again, the quickness strikes Kaiser as disturbing. Then you give her a valid order, and he asks for water since they offer that everywhere and he can’t be bothered to read the menu. After the barista leaves, you say, “I could have lactose intolerance.”

“You could. I could be trying to kill you.”

“I don’t know if a milkshake would be enough to kill me.”

“Maybe I was trying to give you a stomach ache,” he concurs.

You don’t dignify that with a reply either.

Kaiser tries to speak with you again, “I really fucking hate milk.”

“Then why’d you do that?”

“To embarrass you, of course,” he says, like he’s revealed to you the natural order of things.

“Hm.” You consider this new information. “I’ll definitely think of a way to get back at you.”

The lukewarm threat seems to amuse him more than anything.

Then you proceed to have a hostile few hours together in public as instructed. You end up throwing napkins at his face.

Kaiser isn’t good at pretending to be in love. The only such image he seems capable of projecting is one of a middle schooler who’s failing to find a balance between playful and mean. Though it also doesn’t matter to you because you mostly teeter on the edge of mean, slightly left of apathetic. Nothing really matters to you.

___

For your second court-ordered date with Michael Kaiser, your manager tells you to get caught holding hands with him at a park after the cafe meeting doesn’t spark much controversy. The notion itself has you scrunching your face, but you don’t complain about it or voice your opinion.

Again, he’s late picking you up by a not negligent amount of time, leaving you to stand in front of your building, motionless and impatient.

Instead of announcing his presence in a more acceptable manner, Kaiser blares the car horn until you realize it’s him. After you crawl inside the passenger seat, you turn to look at him and see that he looks very pleased with himself. It’s obnoxious.

“I hope we die in a car crash,” you greet.

“We won’t.” You don’t know why, but his brain interprets this as an opportunity to brag. “I’m an excellent driver.”

He’s not. Somehow you make it to the park without getting into a catastrophe — which, as established, you wouldn’t have minded.

You exit at the same time and Kaiser frowns at you by the time he circles his way around to you. You don’t care enough about what’s bothering him to raise a questioning eyebrow let alone ask, but he tells you, “I was going to open the door for you and then offer to help you up. You ruined everything!”

You roll your eyes. “How gallant.”

“Get back in,” Kaiser says, pointing (as if the gesture will be enough to convince you to play along). “Let’s redo it.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I have a vision for these kinds of things, that’s all.”

“Your vision is trashy and uninspired,” you reject promptly.

Kaiser seems to be the first person in the world who finds your attitude funny rather than objectionable because he grins at your response. But he’s more so looking at you like you’re a bug he finds fascinating in comparison to the rest, without any real respect or acknowledgement.

“I admit maybe it was a bit cliche,” he says. “Would’ve made me look good, though, if someone caught it on camera.”

You smile that ghoulish smile again and grab his hand like you were told. His fingers are cold and yours even more so, making the grasp clammy and uncomfortable while you begin your stroll. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to talk about with him. Soon enough, you scowl, both the silence and the sensation of getting touched proving too much for you to hide your displeasure, even though Kaiser seems content with letting the silence fester.

“Oh? Why’d you stop? I’ve started enjoying your creepy masquerading.”

“I’m disgusted,” you say.

“Disgusted,” he repeats. “By what? Me?”

“It’s making me sick. Who knows where your hand’s been or what you’ve done.”

Albeit visibly offended for the first time if the lack of an annoying smirk is anything to draw judgments from, Kaiser drops it first. Your arm hangs by your side again, limp.

“Let go, then. Or do I need to do everything myself?” That’s quite a dramatic sentiment coming from a man who has done nothing all day besides a short drive and taking a few steps.

“But my manager said-”

“Who cares? I think my manager’s lucky I agreed to this bullshit in the first place,” Kaiser says. “By the way, my hands haven’t been in any sewers or anything to warrant this reaction, thank you very much.” He must be the type of person who only ever says thank you as if being grateful is some big joke.

“I’m not being literal. I know who you are and what people say about you. My disgust is conceptual.”

“Flattering.” Kaiser’s pleased again with the mention of this tidbit, like the mental image he’s getting of you searching him up gives him immeasurable amounts of satisfaction. One thing you’ve come to notice about him since your last outing is that he’s shameless. “You’re not special, though. Lots of people know who I am.”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re scum.”

“Do you usually talk to people you barely know in this way or is it preferential treatment? I’d love preferential treatment, but the other option is amusing too.”

“Usually,” you say in a monotone. “That’s why I don’t speak much. More so supposed to be looked at rather than heard, and so on.” You finish off your explanation with a flippant gesture. That’s what it’s like for you — ‘shut your trap, it ruins your appeal.’

“Well, I-” there’s an emphasis on the word ‘I’ because Kaiser always thinks his opinion matters, “-think your worldview is pathetic and embarrassing. What’s the point of being looked at if no one will listen to you? How can you be fine with that?”

Fair point. You concede in your head, but don’t commit to agreeing with him out loud. “You’re not special either. Most people gross me out.”

“You hurt me this time.” He’s sneering, though.

After a while of walking, you find yourself sitting on a bench next to him. A few pigeons strut around near your feet, bobbing their heads back and forth, almost catching a groove. “If I had any bread, I’d feed them.”

“I’m not surprised you’d feel interested in such a commoner’s activity,” Kaiser says, as if he is somehow superior to you for not wanting to participate in this.

“Vile,” you say, voice still neutral. You’re not looking at him either, attention glued to the birds.

He doesn’t know which part of it you find dismaying — was it the class shaming or what? “So you like pigeons, but you hate humanity. You’re one of those.”

“I don’t hate humanity,” you say. “But nature is repulsive by default. It’s not amoral. When we’re cruel and ugly, that’s a conscious and opportunistic decision. Every day CEOs throw their employees and workers under the bus for more profits. Someone’s getting murdered as we speak. We’re faking a relationship to attract brand deals. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”

“Get a hobby instead of thinking about stupid shit like that. Caring about how ugly and bleak everything is won’t get you anywhere,” Kaiser… advises.

“Look at the pigeons.” You’re watching the one with the missing claws, wobbling and struggling to get around. “Humans domesticated them and then abandoned them. I love flora and fauna. They’re interesting and exist much more differently than we do.”

“Does that mean you like my tattoo then?”

“Not everything needs to be about you. It’s not like people will forget you exist when you don’t force yourself to be at the center of conversation.”

This stings him the tiniest bit. Either you’re probing into an insecurity or he’s reading too deep into what you’re gathering from your conversations with him. “If I wanted to have a pseudointellectual conversation, I wouldn’t ask a vapid model to psychoanalyze me.”

“Your opinions are unoriginal and stereotyped just like your ideas about romance,” you say, finally turning around to face him again with those haunted eyes. He’s unamused now, clenching his jaw and all. “A stupid athlete wouldn’t be my first choice for a ‘pseudointellectual conversation’ either.”

“You look down on others and judge them, so what makes you so different from all those ‘scum’ you hate? How are you exempt from your own standards?”

Do you realize you’re displaying similar behaviors to those you’re scolding him over?

“Well, there’s a simple explanation for that,” you say. Kaiser is expecting an argument or something, but you kind of floor him with your follow-up. “It’s called hypocrisy. I’m probably just as disgusting as the average person.”

“Your life must be miserable if you look at everything through this lens. What was the phrase, rose colored glasses? Yours must have shit smeared over them.”

You shrug then make a 50/50 motion with your hand. “My life’s neither good nor bad. I’m indifferent on the subject.”

“Uh huh.” Kaiser considers this, then his lips twitch up, and then his smile broadens — it’s snide and smug again, and you come to the realization that he probably doesn’t know how to smile in any other way — before he inches a little closer to you. Not enough to brush against you, but enough to count as an attempted provocation. “I think people like you shouldn’t be considered alive. Legally speaking. And if we’re being figurative, you’re obviously already dead.”

You frown at him, since he’s kind of right. The fact that Michael Kaiser has the capability to discern truths you don’t want to hear rubs you the wrong way.

“Speaking of birds,” you start, deciding to change the topic, “you remind me of a peacock.”

“Wrong.” He’s pouty now. You find the expression cute, but when you catch the thought you throw up in your mouth a bit, so you ignore it. “I’m clearly a swan.”

“The fact that you have a preference when it comes to what animal you’re considered is sad.”

“And you’re entertaining. Let’s hang out again soon even if those sorry fucks don’t suggest it.”

You find it bewildering how he calls his PR manager’s input a ‘suggestion’ and seems to think he can do whatever he wants. Which, maybe he does, seeing the way he conducts himself. You’re also tempted to tell him to make up his mind on whether he enjoys your company or not, but there are more important matters right now. “We’re not supposed to do that, I don’t think.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Why this desire all of a sudden?”

“It’s what I want.” What impeccable reasoning. “I think I can make you enjoy yourself,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. Not for your merit or anything stupid.” Kaiser offers what you’d describe as a flamboyant hand wave in the air, demeanor laced with complacency. “I think it’d make me feel really charitable and generous if I can manage to add something to your depressing life. Give me a chance to try.”

“Word of advice,” you scoot away from him to the point the edge of the bench is digging into your ass and it honestly hurts, “you’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude. How you phrased it disgusted me again.”

Kaiser finds your favored terms interesting. Everything is sickening and disgusting and vile and scummy from your perspective. Deep down for reasons he doesn’t want to ponder, he can relate.

“Great. You’ll come around soon,” he promises, with the confidence of someone who thinks this is a game he has a high chance of winning.

___

Kaiser makes it a point to inflict his presence onto you as much as he can afford to with your schedules, even though there’s no need for it. Not that you refuse him either. He’s kind of interesting to keep around, in his own Kaiser-ish way.

Earlier today he invited himself over to your house. He’d decided you need to come up with a story about your ‘relationship,’ but didn’t wanna discuss it through text messages. Apparently he has an interview coming up and wants to be prepared in case they ask him about you.

“How did we meet?” you ask, sitting on the other side of the couch and leaning against the armrest, away from him.

The answer is immediate: “I saved you from a burning church.”

You question what other fantasies this man could probably have because that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. Your voice somehow remains flat despite the bewilderment when you ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s flashy and dramatic.”

“But if anyone searches it up, they’ll see there haven’t been any… burned churches?”

“You’re such a killjoy.” Kaiser sighs. “It makes it sound mystical.”

“No it doesn’t,” you say, rather flippant about the entire thing. “It makes you sound like a pathological liar.”

“I like your sense of humor.”

“Thanks, but I’m not kidding about this.”

“Then what do you think it should be?” Kaiser asks. Obviously the purpose of this inquiry is to criticize your choice of scenario — even you can anticipate such a predictable move.

You roll your eyes and then look away from him in contemplation. You hadn’t really thought about it, since you don’t do interviews, and therefore you don’t need to concern yourself with hypotheticals on the matter. “Some kind of party, maybe. Post-match celebration?”

“Makes sense,” says Kaiser. “Doesn’t compel me, though. Boring.”

With a hum, you try to imagine what would both appeal to Kaiser and sound realistic. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s swayed by practicality. “I went with someone else, but you swept me off my feet so hard, you stole me away from them.”

“I guess it sounds plausible enough while still having an element of fantasy.”

“Is the idea of me liking you the ‘element of fantasy’?”

“Yeah… That’s why I want it.”

You didn’t expect such a response. It has you looking at him weird. You do so often anyway, but now you do it for longer as if trying to glean something. In response Kaiser tells you to take a picture since it’ll last longer. The reply seems extraneous and distracting, and that only makes you feel more suspicious of him, which is weird since you’re not sure what you’re even inferring.

___

Officially it’s your fifth date with Kaiser, unofficially it’s the tenth. This time you’re holding up a frog in your open hands.

He doesn’t know what the point of all the nature-themed outings is — maybe to make him seem down to Earth in the public eye since he’s become notorious for how insufferable he is? Either way he doesn’t care, and he’s not the type to wander at landscapes, but your affinity for ugly animals is kind of cute.

The frog isn’t some special one either. No crazy colors or anything, just a regular green tree frog (according to your expertise). You let it jump onto your palms, since apparently touching their skin is bad for them or something. Kaiser scrutinizes it in distaste, staring down into its big eyes while it croaks. “So you can handle a disgusting amphibian, but you can’t hold hands with me.”

“I see you’re still thinking about that.”

“Well, it was insulting. And besides, it’s never happened to me before.”

“You’re not so bad. I don’t think I’d vomit if we brushed against each other anymore.”

Kaiser seems curious but nonetheless pleased with this development. “Why the change of heart?”

“Because you listen to what I say,” you tell him.

He somehow resists the urge to piss himself laughing at the sound of that. “Your standards are so low. It’s so sad that it’s funny,” he says. Maybe he would’ve dedicated some more time to teasing you over it, but he comes to a realization which immediately lifts his mood. This must mean he’s in your good graces somewhat, and not many people seem to fit there, so that makes Kaiser special to a degree. Right?

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

“Who would’ve thought someone who looks the way you do would come out like this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think you were one of those kids who, like, shoved sticks and leaves in mud and called it a potion.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean now?”

Kaiser lets out an annoyed sound, tired of elaborating. “It means I think you’re strange.”

“Hmm, I bet you do,” you say. “There’s a quote I like: ‘It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.’”

“Yeah, and I bet that’s the kind of message you love. What’s it from?”

“Interesting story,” you say. “This is Jiddu Krishnamurti’s most famous quote, but it doesn’t appear in any of his books. Allegedly he said it to some other guy.”

Kaiser blinks and nods, maybe trying to keep a pretense of having the slightest concept of what you’re on about. “Whatever, got it. I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Maybe I’ll check him out.”

“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in that type of thing,” you say, staring at him as if you’re trying to figure him out.

“Actually, I am. Can you stop taking every chance to insult me?”

“I’m not. At least not on purpose… So, what are your hobbies, anyway? You never told me.”

“I practice. What do you take me for?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “That’s it?”

Kaiser opens his mouth to justify himself even though there’s no need to be defensive — maybe it’s that he feels like he’s lacking in some department after you bring your attention to it with your little response and generally Kaiser hates to be insufficient. But before he can argue and try and talk himself out of whatever perception you have of him now, an interruption happens.

The frog, which had been lazy and content with merely existing in your grasp, springs without any warning. It leaps out of your fingers and lands on top of Kaiser’s head.

Today you learn Michael Kaiser screams at an ear-shattering frequency when he’s startled. Soap opera level of shock and overreaction.

___

It is when you’re eating at a trashy place for lunch that Kaiser’s looking at his phone, which you find rude since you’re supposed to be spending time together and whatnot. He eats like a pig, too, not graceful at all — you wonder what his fans would think if they saw him with crumbs over his mouth and sauce on his chin. Good material for a public embarrassment campaign, you think.

But it’s in that moment that he finally wipes himself with a tissue and reaches out to all but shove his phone in your face. “Look, we’re so hot!”

You grace the picture with a dismissive glance before looking back down at your meal, disinterested. You already know enough about Kaiser to assume he’d get a kick out of power couple fantasies. And other power fantasies. Really, you find it pathetic.

It was something out of the photoshoot he was showing you, his favorite you presume. Even someone like Kaiser, who has conventional features, isn’t perfect when it comes to these unreasonable standards. He’d been way too stiff next to you while he posed and though his face is symmetrical, his expressions tend to stray to one side, and obviously it’d been corrected.

There’s a mismatch between you on the covers and your image in the mirror. Maybe your brain is exaggerating the disconnect, but every time you see them, it’s like staring into an airbrushed, distorted amalgamation. In other words, you prefer avoiding both the edited products and your reflection whenever you can.

“We don’t look like that,” you say, offhand about his enthusiasm as you are with most things.

Kaiser scoffs and then very blatantly tries to compare between whatever version of you he has on his phone and the you in front of him. There’s not a single good thing you can say about his decision — it’s making your skin crawl just knowing it’s what he’s doing.

“Close enough,” he deems after careful examination.

“I don’t think it’s me.”

“It’s quite literally you.”

“I don’t think anything is me. Like I’m just what I see. My perspective, my point of view. You get what I’m saying?”

“No?” Kaiser says, laughing at you and your apparently strange affliction.

“Well if not that, you have to admit things captured on camera aren’t real.”

“What are you talking about,” Kaiser asks in a flat tone, which leaves it as something less than a question. A few more snickers escape him and he’s grinning at you like a bastard — if at first he regarded you as a slightly more fascinating bug than the rest, by now you must be his favorite, the rarest… A tree lobster. “You make no sense.”

“It totally makes sense. Imagine we’re having sex-”

“What kind of stupid come-on is that?”

“It’s not a come-on, I’m explaining. So, imagine we’re having sex-”

“In what position?”

“Whatever you want as long as it works for the scenario. Anyway, imagine we’re having sex-”

Kaiser laughs harder and then attempts some seductive sort of expression which doesn’t land with you. “I’m imagining it,” he informs.

“Shut up and let me get to the point. Imagine we’re having sex and I’m recording it-”

“Wow, I didn’t take you for such a pervert? Not that I hate it.”

“-so I’m looking at you through the camera lens. The phone’s between us. I’m not, like, in the moment with you. My mind’s absent, it’s all digital. So if you think about it we’re not even really having sex.”

“... You’re losing me even more,” Kaiser says after some contemplation, finding the fantasy unpleasant all of a sudden with this new spin to it. A moment passes during which he takes another big, possibly exaggerated bite, but he at least has enough decency to chew and swallow before adding, “I think you just have a problem.”

You roll your eyes, wondering if he even entertained the thought, but shrug since it doesn’t matter in the end. “Why are we always talking about how I’m weird? If anything, you're eccentric, not me.”

Kaiser wrinkles his nose in offense at the notion and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture in the air. “No. I’ve turned out totally normal. Don’t put me at your level.”

A lot of curiosities spin around your head concerning Kaiser’s behavior whenever you meet and you’re yet to find an answer. What does he want? Clearly he’s comfortable with and used to wanting, but what is it? Attention? Money? Fame? Status? All, none? Will it ever be enough? Is it even the kind of hunger which can be satiated?

Who is he when he’s not playing this ridiculous character?

“I can’t get a read on you,” you tell him.

“Well, you’re socially inept. I doubt you can get a read on anyone.”

“So are you.”

Kaiser feigns hurt over this. He does that a lot. Maybe he finds it hilarious, maybe the performance is all for shits and giggles — who knows.

“I want to dissect your head,” you say after a while of silence.

“Really? That’s what you wanna do with me?”

“Mhm. With a scalpel. I’d make an incision around your temple maybe.”

“My beautiful and demented angel, is that your way of saying you wanna get closer to me?” The sentence comes out mocking with a paper thin smile, but there’s a sense of admiration in it. What for? You raise an eyebrow in visible confusion at the… nickname, but Kaiser doesn’t elaborate. To take away from the tension(?), he announces, “You’ve got something stuck between your teeth,” pointing at your mouth all amused.

___

Kaiser had an ulterior motive in accepting that deal. Though wording it this way makes it sound like some calculated, opportunistic, sinister scheme, when in reality it’s nothing beyond immature and a little humiliating.

Of course, in true Kaiser fashion, when looking to meet someone, he goes straight for the most convoluted option. So when the stupid idea came up, he agreed, even if he put on a bit of a show at first and acted irritating. Confessing to wanting friends is so embarrassing. He’d rather shoot himself at point blank or perhaps commit an act of auto-defenestration than admit the real reason for participating, much less in front of you.

Despite the jabs, you’re also not bad at all. Calm and uninvolved in anything that upsets him and without any expectations towards him.

At first he found your indifference derogatory, but as the months have passed by, there’s a sort of comfort in knowing that he could’ve been some random guy off the street and you would’ve probably treated him the same. In front of you he is neither on a pedestal nor someone to be knocked down on his knees. More Michael than he is Kaiser.

Things have been teetering on a dangerous edge lately. His mind is wandering off towards you again, more and more often each day. Like maybe he’s excited for the next time he sees you or something else repulsive in a similar vein, a giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. Is this what it would’ve been like to be a little boy with a crush?

Generally he prefers not to socialize with background characters. So he doesn’t know why it’s while he’s having some benign daydream about you that some newbie he hadn’t bothered remembering the name of decides to interrupt him. Besides, it’s inconvenient, he was supposed to be leaving and this guy is blocking the changing room door.

“I heard you’re banging a model,” he says, as if they’re good pals or some shit. Kaiser is also mostly immune to annoying locker room talk since all the other psychotic men he knows are too busy being as fanatical as him to waste time on something as useless as objectifying someone to pass the time, yet here this lowlife is.

Kaiser regards him with a judgmental side eye — for a second too long, almost television-style — and tries to move and sidestep him. “Why do you care? Pathetic cuck.”

“Woah, don’t be like that. I just thought it was funny. I’ve heard about that person before, would’ve thought it would be more of a hit it and quit it type thing. Yet here you are, still together.”

The emotion that zaps him is almost disorienting. Kaiser bruises easily, but it’s all about him. There’s never been much room for anyone else in his mentality of suffocating self-absorption, a depressing way to try and compensate for anyone who’s ever wronged him. Right now, though, he’s feeling anger on someone else’s behalf. A borderline exotic situation.

“So I was curious if that thing about loonies being the best at fucking was true? I’m assuming it is ‘cause I don’t know why else you’d stay with a schizoid.”

In the heat of the moment, when he’s pissed off, Kaiser is not the most poetic wordsmith. Thankfully politeness and civility are sensibilities which elude him. Without a second thought or any regret, he makes use of his water bottle still in his hand and dumps the entire contents of it over his head before elbowing him out of the way while he’s still confused.

___

You really don’t want to be having this conversation.

For fuck’s sake, you’re on break. And isn’t that supposed to mean relaxation? Yet the other model for the shoot today has been bugging you with unpleasant questions, putting you on the spot.

“Isn’t he a narcissist, though?” she asks, refusing to let go of the topic no matter how unresponsive you’ve been.

“I guess? Maybe. In a way…”

“You’re sooo… I don’t know. Like, you don’t even sound sure about what you’re telling me.” She narrows her eyes at you, leaning in a bit closer. “Aren’t you scared of him? Or is it ‘cause you’re so sheltered, you don’t know not to mess around with guys like Kaiser?”

Scared of him? It sounds ludicrous. At worst he’s whiny.

“He’s harmless,” you say. “Just a little rude and preoccupied with himself, that’s all. Actually, he’s an interesting and attentive person.”

She covers her mouth and lets out a sound of amusement, apparently now finding you more convincing and therefore dropping her worries. “He was saying you guys are suuuuuuuper in love with an interview.”

Not too engaged with the topic — since it’s about whatever lies Kaiser told the interviewer to entertain himself — you ask, “Is that what he was saying?”

“Yep. Didn’t you watch?”

“No.”

“Fine. Maybe he’s ‘interesting and attentive.’ I mean, I don’t believe it, but whatever. What about you, though? Do you like him, let alone love him? Can you even like anyone? I mean, shit, you know how you are. So, like, can you? Are you suuuuuuuper in love?”

You avert your eyes. “Yes,” you say. It’s true. You do like Kaiser well enough, probably more than you should. “And stop making assumptions about him and me.”

“What if I don’t stop? What are you gonna do?”

That’s… A very good question because there’s nothing you can do at the moment. Seems like a good opportunity to weaponize your reputation of being a deranged serial killer. “I’ll lick your eyebrows.”

You don’t know if your delivery is persuasive or not, but the idea you’d do such a thing must come off as believable enough because she makes a strange face before backing off.

___

You despise being in situations. And making decisions.

There’s a stupid PR meeting again. Your manager, who you think should move onto writing trashy novellas instead of administering poison to your career just because his imagination is overactive, proposed a new stunt. With the fake relationship running its course, you were discussing ways to publicize the ‘break up’ and he suggested a cheating scandal. Not to mention his great idea had you as the cheater — you swear he’s praying on your downfall at this point.

Maybe because you’ve been treated as some kind of fucked up creature incapable of thought and trustworthy decisions, something insentient, you would’ve went along with it like always. Even though you know you’d look bad, the point is to make noise, and it would be a scandalous story if not anything else. Another indignity doesn’t matter much on an endless list.

Then Kaiser in true Kaiser fashion declared that he wants to keep the relationship going. To you, such an act of flippant defiance is unthinkable.

But obviously this forces you into a position where you need to pick between your options. They’re all staring at you, waiting. Kaiser is smiling at you from across his seat like you’re in on a joke with him. Anxious, you say, “I’ll think about it,” and stand up to leave.

You’re sweating because somewhere within you wanna announce ‘Yeah, I wanna keep seeing Michael Kaiser,’ but it’s so preposterous.

Kaiser doesn’t chase after you (though it’d be his style to do such a thing solely for the drama), but he catches up to you by the time you make it outside of the building, approaching the parking lot.

“Hey. Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me. Heeeeeeey.”

God he is such an annoying pest sometimes. You turn around to face him, snapping, “What?! What was that about anyway?”

“No, what’s with you? What is there to think about? You don’t want to look like a clown in front of the world, do you?”

You’re looking at Kaiser again like you’re trying to figure out a mystery. He always wants things, but what does he want from you? There has to be a reason for this. Otherwise, he should’ve been fine with the separation instead of trying to prolong it.

“Listen,” says Kaiser, a little apprehensive at your silence and expressionless gaze, “I can tell you barely tolerate your shitty job and that you probably don’t like the moronic idea your anthropomorphized cyst of a manager came up with, so why aren’t you protesting it?”

Those are objective enough observations. However, “Anthropomorphized cyst…?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Kaiser huffs, irked. “And by the way the fake meek act isn’t cute at all. They’re making money off of you. Tell them to fuck off and die and stop acting like a hostage.”

“This is very inspirational and all, Kaiser, but how about you tell me why you wanna keep the fake relationship going?”

“Doesn’t matter. If you don’t want that either, you can say we’ll settle for ending it instead of-”

You cross your arms. “Again, your attempts at a pep talk are adorable and appreciated, but you’re changing the subject now.”

“They’re not adorable. I’m right. Say I’m right.”

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” you relent with a roll of your eyes.

Kaiser smiles snidely and clasps his hands behind his back. “Thanks,” he says in a sarcastic tone. Then you expect him to entertain your question, but he doesn’t, leaving you in an uncomfortable staredown against him and his stupid ‘beautiful glowing blue orbs’ ass eyes.

“Answer me,” you demand.

“Your unpleasant personality and reclusive ways have bewitched me.”

…

“… What?”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Kaiser says with too much attitude considering the situation. Like, he just spoke out one of the most absurd sentences you’ve ever heard.

“Do you have a brain tumor?”

The outrageous suggestion makes him scoff. “Really? You think I need a brain tumor to like you?”

“Maybe,” you say. “Should’ve let me operate on you when I offered.”

“You’re mentally disturbed,” he replies like the fact turns him on or something.

“So were you asking me out or what?”

“Yes? No? Yes. Yeah, fine, I am.”

“Do you search up ‘personality’ on porn sites?”

“Come on, be serious. I mean what I’m saying and I want to give things between us a try. Do you?”

You cringe as if admitting your feelings or overall being in touch with them in the first place is a physically painful sensation, but in your defense you think you might throw up. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. My manager, I mean.”

Kaiser swings an arm around your shoulders, visibly pleased with the way this is all going. He sings, “That’s the spirit.”

What had he wanted from you? Affection and care, apparently. You think back on when you’d called him ‘disgusting’ and a foreign guilt overcomes you since you don’t usually lament the remarks you make during your misanthropic hissy fits.

Is it fine for someone such as yourself to also indulge in wanting? Hesitant, with shaky arms, you embrace him around the middle, the gentlest of hugs. Kaiser freezes for a moment as if he’s unsure what to do when he’s not the one initiating things, but eventually returns the gesture. Melts into it, even. Two existences brushing against one another, at first glance contrary yet perhaps similar in many ways.

When you finally pull away from each other little by little, Kaiser says, “Let’s elope now.”

You sigh. “You sure have a way of making everything sound way more exciting than it is.”

(He drives you back to your place, but still sucks at driving. Chivalrously, he avoids crashing the car, though.)

___

Yall I was drinking light yellow tap water for a few daysdo you think somethings gonna happen to me ?

Btw I hate this but it's finally finished after like around a month so whatever lol I' M FREE

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #michael kaiser x you

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jirsungs · 3 months

Text

ep. 4: p.y.t (pretty young thing)

word count: 1.4k words

After discovering that the Park Jisung, the same guy who spilled his entire drink on your brand-new outfit a month ago, was in Rockway, you had little time to back out. There were twenty minutes until four, and you were mentally debating with yourself about whether you should tell your friends a useless lie or suppress the pettiness you felt.

But who could blame you? The dumb emo wannabe, with his stupid and cute glasses, ruined your outfit, and it took a whole week out of you to wash out the stains to the original color. Not only that, but trying to hide the mess from Ningning, who gifted you the outfit, was the hardest part that night. And for the big cherry on top, his excuse to go get napkins just to end up ditching you and never coming back is one of the oldest tricks in the book. So much for thinking you could get his number by the end of the night.

“Yo, Y/N, you alright?” Yeonjun's nudge to your shoulder takes you out of your trance.

You look around the room and see Yeonjun sitting next to you on the bed. Across from you, was Ningning sitting on your desk chair while Jaemin and Renjun kept themselves busy with your knickknacks on the bookshelves.

“Yeah, I'm fine. But how'd you guys get in here?”

Ningning gives you a disapproving look before retrieving the spare key from her purse, holding the metal object delicately between her thumb and forefinger. You suddenly remember that you entrusted her with a key.

“Now, what are we waiting for? Get changed, girl!” Ningning gets up from the chair and pulls you up by the arms.

“Yeah, it's almost four.” Renjun chirps out. He's now sat on the floor with most of his focus on the liquid motion bubbler sensory toy set in his hands. With you out of the way, Jaemin steals your spot on the bed.

“Okay okay, just give me ten minutes,” As you walk over to your closet to rummage for an outfit, you quickly snatch the sensory toy out of Renjun's hands, “And this is mine!”

“The fuck was that for?!”

Ten minutes turned into twenty, and when you and your friends arrived at Johnny's house, it was already crowded.

You all follow Jaemin as you squeeze through the crowd. He stops in the middle of what seems to be a hangout space and turns around to make important eye contact with everyone. "Okay, whatever you do, do not - and I mean, do not - drink whatever concoction Johnny gives you!"

Renjun raises his brow before asking, "You learned that the hard way, didn't you?"

There's a short pause.

"Maybe."

Jaemin was about to go over some more warnings that were associated with Johnny's parties until the attention shifted to the man himself as he tapped the microphone set in front of him.

"What's up, yall! You know me, I'm Johnny, and I'm glad you all made it tonight, before I pass the mic to my boy, Mark, I just wanted to let everyone know that my bedroom is off limits. After last time, I'm not trying to clean another mess up. Alright, thank you." Johnny removes the mic from the stand and signals Mark to take it, "Let's make some noise for Mark, everybody!"

Like clockwork, applause, and scattered cheers of the band members' names echoed around the room, including from your friends while you stood there slowly clapping your hands to not feel excluded.

Everyone's attention then turns to a guy named Mark, who, as mentioned earlier, has a guitar strapped around him and is dressed in casual, baggy clothing.

"Hey, guys. Once again, thank you for all coming out to support Rockway tonight. As requested by our beloved vocalist, Haechan," Mark is suddenly interrupted by cheers from the crowd at the mention of the vocalist. But he isn't a bit mad as he chuckles, looking over at his said band member who mirrors his delight.

He continues once the crowd quiets down, "As a request from Haechan, we'll be covering a song. Tonight, we will be giving you Rockway's version of P.Y.T, Pretty Young Thing by Mr. Michael Jackson. Please enjoy."

As the audience begins to applaud, Mark backs away from the mic, Haechan taking his place in front of it. Amidst the crowd, the noise of two drumsticks tapping against each other catches the crowd's attention.

And that's when you see him. Jisung.

Somehow, you feel the crowd blur out, and what's left is you and him. He begins to start the beat on his drums, leading Jeno to follow with his bass shortly after.

Ningning dancing and singing along next to you has your eyes finally being pulled away from the drummer, and that's when you realize Haechan's already singing the first verse.

Where did you come from, lady? And, ooh, won't you take me there? Right away, won't you, baby?

Your friends jamming out diverts your attention from Jisung for a while as you catch yourself singing along with them.

It almost felt like a mini-concert, and no one had their eyes on you.

Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up Haechan's vocal of the chorus, and your eyes move on their own, looking at Jisung once again.

And to your surprise, his eyes meet yours right when Haechan sings the line,

I want to love you (P.Y.T.) Pretty young thing

Talk about perfect timing.

You feel yourself getting hot because your eye contact lasts a lot longer than it should, but you can't help but not pull away. He's the first one to break contact when he stumbles on his rhythm, but he gets back in so swiftly that you're the only one who recognizes it, and the crowd is left unnoticed.

It was 8:10 when Rockway finished their set, and against your will, Yeonjun, Jaemin, and Renjun left to introduce themselves to Haechan and Chenle, who were socializing in the crowd. While on Johnny's living room couch, Ningning was busy chatting with Mark and Jeno once she found out they were fans of her work.

Which left you in the kitchen, alone, a solo red cup half full of cherry soda, the only thing keeping you company.

You watched the drink swirl around as you lightly spun the cup with your hand until you felt an arm brush against yours, leading you to look up at the person.

And there he is, once again, Park Jisung clothed in a baggy black shirt which he paired with even baggier denim jeans. And of course, his big black-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

He doesn't see you looking at him when he's pouring himself a drink, but that's before he murmurs a "sorry" under his breath when he catches a glimpse of you.

That's when he sees you in a cute short dress and your arms are covered by a cropped denim jacket. Your hair dolled up, just as he remembered.

But his ogling doesn't last long when his eyes reach your eyes again, and they don't look... as pleased.

"So, you can say sorry. Good to know."

His brows furrow at you, almost as if he's trying to analyze the reason behind your malice tone, "Excuse me?"

You scoff. How could he not remember?

Before you can say anything, Jisung speaks again, "Look, I just wanted a drink, that's all. My bad if it got your panties in a bunch."

He immediately leaves the kitchen, leaving you stunned by his new attitude. You feel the frustration welling up inside you, steam practically pouring out of your ears.

As Jisung leaves, Yeonjun and Jaemin enter and spot you leaning against the counter, your drink perilously close to spilling as you angrily squeeze the cup.

"Woah, easy, girl."

Your mood softens as you spot your two friends, and Jaemin reaches to take the cup from your hand, which you oblige.

Jaemin busies himself by pouring a cup for him and Yeonjun when he asks, "Who's got you looking all mad?"

"Jisung. This hatred for him will last for more than a week, so Yeonjun," You look over at your friend who takes his focus off his phone, "Bet 30 dollars instead."

Then, you walk out of the kitchen, leaving your two friends to exchange looks in pure confusion.

When you're out of earshot, Yeonjun exclaims, "My ass, I'm betting 30 dollars!" prompting Jaemin to snicker.

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note: my first written chapter!!!! i'm kinda rusty since it's been awhile but i hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it :)) the next chapter will finally reveal jisungs side of the story 😔🙏

🎫: @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @leeknowarchives @seunghancore @woshixinqgiu

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odocoiileus · 7 months

Note

Hello! I'm not sure if you write for him, but can I have some hcs for RZ Michael Myers with a very silent s/o? (Like almost mute but can still talk, can be gn or any gender u want) Ty!!

pairings: rz! michael myers x gn! reader

warnings: mentions of murder, blood/gore,

a/n: of course anon! I write for any slasher for the most part. I'm also a huge fan of rz michael lol

talk about a match made in hell heaven, both of you are as quiet as a mouse.

it's a miracle that michael didn't kill you, though I fully believe that the reason he spared you in the beginning is because of how quiet you were — maybe he saw himself in you. either way, you're glad to be alive

it definitely took awhile for you two to get to know each other, considering you are both very very silent.

somehow, it still works out.

I imagine the both of you bond over doing arts and crafts, if you like those. such as mask making, drawing, letters confessing your love (seeing as you don't like to talk, this is probably the easiest way to express your feelings other than physical touch or gift giving, acts of service)

on the very rare occasions you do speak, it's usually only when Michael comes into your house soaked with blood, staring at you like a wounded dog. even then, it's probably only uttering his name.

you'll bandage whatever wounds he has (which isn't very often, I mean, the mans a tank) in silence, it's a comfortable silence. besides your irritated glare, of course.

you don't need to talk for him to be able to understand your anger when he's covered your floor with blood, which you'll have to clean up later

I think another way you could bond would be doing his hair, either braiding it or simply running your fingers through it. possibly even trim the dead ends.

this would be further into your relationship when the two of you are fully comfortable. I like to headcanon that Michael has a very high pain tolerance, but is tender headed. beware of knots!

I think Michael would be happier with a silent significant other such as yourself than one that's constantly yapping. it makes the connection much more genuine and deeper.

#odocoiileus #odofics #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x reader

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etherealising · 6 months

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idk how request, I hope you understand ^^

could you do one about michael and baby having their cute moments but carmy misunderstanding everything?

english is not my first language, sorry 😭😭

in the arms of another

a/n: bestie i promise your english is just fine please don’t apologize. also i’m sending you all the internet kisses for this request because i’ve missed writing baby x mikey content so much!!! maybe not as cute as you may have wanted but i still hope you enjoy! 🫶🏽

wc: 4.3k (what can i say, i missed them)

You lost Carmy in the crowd mere moments after collecting your diploma, part of you couldn’t seem to care considering how rocky things became between the two of you but you were also a bit overwhelmed with the amount of your classmates who kept stopping to share in the success that was graduating high school.

Most of the people you stopped to take pictures with had rarely ever spoken to you during the 4 years you shared, considering the occasion you hadn’t minded the first couple of pictures you stopped for, but now you were ready to find your mom and the Berzattos and leave.

It was a few moments more before you heard the familiar drawl of Richie’s voice, he was always loud and you never appreciated that more than in this moment. You spun around a few times to try and spot him, finding the whole group of people standing a few ways off, Carmy had better luck than you did seeing as he was already standing there getting congratulations from every which way.

Smiling you began making your way through the other families apologizing along the way as accidentally bumped into people. Mikey was the first person to spot your approach, his eyes finding yours over Carmy’s head as he spoke to him. The wide smile took over your face instantaneously his own seeming to match yours, you picked up the pace trying to reach him as soon as possible.

Your hand raised in an excited wave, Mikey’s returning wave caused Carmy to turn as well a small smile growing on his face the closer you got to them, his hand raising in a shy wave as you approached. You hadn’t given Carmy a second glance as you brushed past him to leap into Mikey’s awaiting arms.

Carmy tried not to let the hurt show on his face as you ignored his presence, Mikey spun you around in his arms the sounds of your melodic laugh mixed with Mikey’s rough one felt like the only thing he could hear. He did his best to keep the smile on his face, ignoring the apologetic look Nat sent his way by bending down to pick up your cap that fell to the ground from all the excitement.

He hated to admit it but he understood the cold shoulder you were adamant on giving him. After that day at The Beef things were never the same, upon returning to Claire he’d tried his best to shut down whatever was transpiring between them but couldn’t allow himself to break two hearts in one day. And while he was doing his best to spare Claire’s feelings all it did was push you into the arms of his brother.

The more you distanced yourself from Carmy, the more time you spent with Mikey. Carmy tried to convince himself there was nothing untoward going on between the two of you but between the quiet laughter and the shared jokes he was beginning to feel paranoid. And now he stood there like a loser watching his best friend, the only person he ever wanted to share his joy with again, cling to his older brother like a lifeline.

You squealed as Mikey roughly set you back on the ground, hands falling to his biceps as you smiled at him. “Don’t tell me you shaved for a little graduation ceremony.” One of your hands settling against the slight stubble on his cheek.

Mikey’s response was mute to your ears as rough hands gripped your head, the smell of Richie’s cologne invaded your senses as he began plastering chaste kisses all over your face, one hand removing its grip as he raised a disposable camera to snap a picture of the two of you,

The sound of Nat’s annoyed sigh reached your ears as she shoved her way between you and Richie a look of disgust on her face at Richie’s overdramatic display of affection. “You grew up so fast Baby,” Her arms pulled you into a gentle hug against her chest the two of you rocking back and forth in each other’s arms before she pulled back the proud smile on her face telling you all you needed to know. “We need pictures though.” She gave a soft pat to your backside as you walked away to find your mom and aunt.

You gathered with your small family for pictures, wiping your mom's tears of joy as the three of you posed together. You did your best to hold your tears at bay, thankful your mom was still around to enjoy this moment with you. You felt a bit resigned as your aunt stepped out of frame after a few shots, watching silently as she motioned good-naturedly for Carmen to take her place.

Things between the two of you were the weirdest they’d ever been, with the whole prom debacle a few weeks ago you made it your mission to be alone with him as little as possible. He stepped towards you eyes everywhere but your face, the tension between the two of you was obvious but thankfully everyone ignored it in the same way you did.

It was hard to feel any resentment towards him as he tentatively reached up, his hands delicately fixing your dropped cap atop your head. You sent him a small smile before turning to face the camera, a genuine smile coming to your face.

Rounds of photos later, each with a different participant and you were almost begging to leave, but the sound of Donna’s voice rang through your ears. “Just Bear and Baby now! Our two high-school graduates where’d the fucking time go.”

You couldn’t say no to Donna, and even if you did it's not like you had a believable reason as to why you didn’t want to be pictured alone with Carmy. The two of you got in position next to each other, neither of you moving to bridge the space between the two of you, both deciding to don awkward poses holding up your diplomas.

“Oh c’mon act like you love each other!” The words were mumbled through a cigarette but you knew Donna expected more from the two of you.

A reluctant sigh left you as you stepped closer to Carmy arm brushing his. You looked in his direction for a moment rolling your eyes at the blush on his cheeks. You reached out forcefully handing him your diploma as you fixed his uneven stole. You locked eyes, your heart speeding up just by staring at him, of course, you were still hurt by his actions but you couldn’t deny the soft spot you’d always have for him.

The urge to caress his cheek surged through you, but instead, you carefully took your diploma from his grip. Your hand fell to wrap around his as a small sincere smile rose to your lips, “I’m proud of you Carm.” The words were softly spoken between the two of you, you sent him one last smile before turning back for the last few pictures.

The backyard of the Berzatto family household was overrun with disposable cups and plates scattered around the various folding tables. A surprise graduation party for you and Carmy took place there after the ceremony, though most everybody had cleared out by now the backyard relatively empty.

You stumbled your way to the backyard after seeing Hayden off, soft giggles escaping you every few minutes or so. You’d spent the party socializing mostly with The Beef family and friends, a few of Carmy’s family members, and neighbors who’d joined the celebration, Claire and Hayden joined the party after some time with their own families. The night was mostly spent explaining your plans for college a hundred times over to all the curious adults who’d offered various forms of unsolicited advice.

Richie had been your saving grace though as he’d offered you drinks sporadically throughout the night he reasons that you deserved to celebrate. He’d cut you off before things got too far lecturing you about how Mikey and your mom would kill him if he got you drunk. So you spent the remainder of your night slightly tipsy enjoying yourself more than you probably would have.

The poisonous liquid even opened you up to spending time around Carmy. You knew he’d had a drink of his own but you weren’t sure if he continued like you had. But what sent you over the edge was the joint Hayden brought that the two of you snuck away to smoke. You’d had your fair share of drinks but you’d never been high before, and while all it seemed to do at first was make you a giggly mess, you found that you now had trouble getting your limbs to work properly.

You made your way safely to the backyard by placing your hand on the gate and following its path, eyes glued to the dirt beneath your sandals incessant giggles leaving you. The path illuminated as you stepped through the garden gate. You spotted Mikey and Richie moving around the backyard trash bags in hand as they cleaned up.

“You guysss.” Even to your ears, your voice didn’t sound like your own, your words drawn out the tone more high pitched.

More giggles escaped you as you began trying to skip over to the older men, whatever control over your equilibrium completely gone as your legs gave out knees connecting with the dirt, hands doing little to stop your fall as your body met the ground.

You didn’t even bother lifting yourself, instead rolling over as full belly laughs wracked your body, the lack of oxygen to your brain extending your high. You could feel someone tugging at your arms trying to pull you off the ground, laughs worsening tenfold as you felt like a rag doll gravity keeping your dead weight on the ground as hands fought to pull you up.

“Hey c’mon get up.” At the sound of Mikey’s voice, you let out an excited squeal finally helping him.

Mikey stumbled as you energetically rose arms tightly wrapping around his neck, head leaning into his chest as you divulged into another spell of giggles. You allowed him to gently remove your arms from around his neck taking a step back to check you a whispered curse leaving him as he motioned for Richie.

You tuned their voices out hands moving to try and play with Mikey’s hair, the inky tendrils were mesmerizing under the fairy lights, and you pouted as Mikey kept dodging your assault.

“Why the fuck do you smell like weed?” Mikey’s question stole your attention, your eyes darting between him and Richie a sly smile gracing your face as you raised your index finger to your lips in a shushing motion before you began to lose your balance once more but the firm almost harsh grip on your bicep steadied you. “Are you fucking high right now? Was it that fuckin’ loser who’s always on your ass?”

You scoffed at Mikey a sneer taking over your features, “Are you?” The backyard was silent, Richie stood watching the scene play out uncomfortably before your laughter started up once again. You weren’t privy to the hurt that flashed across Mikey’s face before he led you to sit down, kneeling in front of you to check out your scrapped-up knees. You watched on in silence gently swaying back and forth as you hummed.

Carmy walked into the kitchen to find Richie rummaging around as he quietly cursed to himself, the sound of Carmy’s footsteps alerted him to his presence, “Yo where the fuck is the first aid kit?” The anger in Richie’s voice confused Carmy as he shrugged deciding to help him look.

“Dunno, what’d ya need it for?” Carmy couldn’t pretend to know how Donna organized everything in the house, the only thing he had free reign over was his bedroom.

Richie slammed a cabinet in frustration, “Baby’s fucking high, probably drunk too. I don’t know why she hangs around that stupid fucking kid he’s bad news.”

Carmy frowned, he remembered watching you wander off somewhere with Hayden but he couldn’t remember you coming back and maybe he got you high, but Richie was the one who allowed you to drink in the first place so the blame was equally his. “Is she okay, why do we need the first-aid kit? And why the fuck did you even let her drink in the first place.” Carmy’s head swam with negative thoughts.

Richie stopped his search hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose the last thing he needed was Carmy and his fucking teenage angst being misguided towards him. Richie knew he shouldn’t have allowed you to drink as much as you did, but he didn’t see a problem with it considering it was supervised, how the fuck was he supposed to know you’d run off and get high. Before Richie could give the youngest Berzatto a piece of his mind his phone began to ring, the chime he designated for Tiff rang through his ears. He let out a quiet sigh as he dug his phone out of his pocket.

“Find the fuckin’ first aid kit and take it outside to Mikey.” Carmy’s eyes followed the direction Richie pointed his hand in before walking off. Eyes landing on you and Mikey, the older man settled in front of you on bended knee hand carefully massaging into your calf as he looked over your knee, your head raised to the night sky a smile of bliss on your lips.

You gazed up at the sky wondering what it must feel like to be a star, a feeling of contentment washing over you the longer you stared up at them. After a while, your head lulled to the side before your eyes found Mikey body still kneeling in the dirt before you.

“Mikey,” you waited as he let out a soft hum, his fingers carefully digging the pebble out of the skin of your knee. “Will you dance with me?”

Mikey let out a sigh, his earlier annoyance washed away the longer he realized you were safe, that even though you were crossfaded you still had the mind to return to him. He rose, knees thankful to be out of the kneeling position as he held his hand out to you to indulge your desire.

You stood on shaky legs allowing the older man to guide you to the center of the backyard, the only thing you could do in your inebriated state was sway back and forth, the weightlessness of your body forcing Mikey to guide the both of you. All was quiet, your cheek found purchase on Mikey’s chest at some point, and the sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a sense of calmness.

The night air was warm as the two of you swayed for what felt like an eternity, your hands moved from their place around Mikey’s waist to tightly wrap around his neck, eyes finding his. “Why doesn’t Carmy love me the way I love him?”

Mikey frowned unsure of what to say, you still looked gone out of your mind. A smile still playing on your lips, but the question you asked him was the direct opposite of every feeling present on your face. “Baby,” a tired sigh left him. “You’re kids, you’ve got your whole life to figure this shit out.”

You laughed, nothing Mikey said was funny you just couldn’t stop the urge to laugh at every little thing. Your fingers began unconsciously playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, for as long as you’d known Mikey you hadn’t realized just how handsome he was. You knew he attracted plenty of people but you’d never given much thought to it until now, seeing his face glow under the fairy lights.

Mikey’s side profile lit up showing off his chiseled jaw, his eyes roaming the back door trying to figure out what the fuck was taking Richie so long to find the first-aid kit.

After minutes of searching, Carmy finally decided to grab the first-aid kit from the guest bathroom before returning to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks just as he made it to the back door fingers tightly gripping the plastic in his hand as he watched you and Mikey in the center of the backyard, eyes wide heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Carmy’s eyes moved from Mikey’s hands on your waist, to your hands wrapped around his neck fingers in his freshly trimmed hair before his eyes landed on the way your lips seemed to find solace against the oldest Berzatto’s.

He couldn’t stand to look at the two of you any longer, his feet leading him back into the kitchen carelessly dropping the first-aid kit to the counter as his hands gripped the marble. His mind raced with all the ways he might have imagined what he had just seen. He did his best to ignore the sound of Richie’s voice as he finally returned, his grating Chicago accent asking about the stupid fucking first-aid kit before snatching it off the counter himself and moving to exit the house.

“Oh…shit.” Carmy had never thought in all his years of knowing Richie that the man was capable of whispering, but as he stood there trying to convince himself he’d made the whole scene up he knew it was null and void from Richie’s reaction alone.

Carmy moved back into the shadow of the kitchen as the back door opened, your quiet giggles filtering through his ears as you entered the house, a soft ‘goodnight Richie’ followed as you walked past him to head wherever you were going. Carmy watched you make your way to the stairs, his hands shaking as he tried to get a hold of his anger, the sight of you tripping up the stairs a catalyst for the damn that held his emotions back.

Without a second thought, he pushed past Richie making his way outside to find Mikey sitting down, head in his hands. “You robbing the fucking cradle now huh?” He ignored Richie’s plea to calm down not even wanting to be around either of these two fucking losers.

Mikey raised his head exhaustion clear on his face, “Go to bed Carmy.” His tone was dismissive as he stood from his position to continue his cleaning.

The casual way Mikey ignored him pissed Carmy off even more, “Why the fuck would you kiss her Mikey? What the fuck is your problem man!”

Carmy did his best to shrug off Richie’s touch as the man tried and failed to lead the riled-up teenager back inside, sure this was all some big misunderstanding. “I don’t have time for this, just get the fuck outta here.” Carmy could hear the growing frustration in his brother’s voice but the anger surging through him was fighting any logic his brain was pushing forth.

“You’re a piece of fucking shit Mikey, what the fuck you say to her huh? Sh-she wouldn’t just fucking kiss you, Mikey. Don’t pretend you fucking deserve her…I-I see the way you look at her don’t fucking lie to me.”

Carmy’s words had their intended effect whichever ones he wasn’t sure but he’d struck a cord in Mikey, that much was evident in the way he threw an empty beer bottle to the ground the loud shattering echoing through the quiet neighborhood. “And you do Carm?” A sardonic laugh left the vicious sneer on Mikey’s lips, “Give her a couple years Carm, who knows maybe she’ll decide I’m the better brother.”

Mikey knew the words were wrong the second they left his mouth and he didn’t need to hear Richie’s admonishing call of his name to realize it. Mikey didn’t see you as anything more than a little sister and he made sure you knew that as he gently pushed you away from him, breaking the kiss you initiated as soon as it started, he couldn’t be sure your inebriated mind understood at the moment, but he needed to make the boundaries between the two of you clear. Talking about you in the way he just did made him feel like the piece of shit Carmy was making him out to be, he was old enough to know not to disrespect you in the way he just did, but his younger brother's misdirected anger was the last thing he needed to hear, so Mikey hit him where it hurt a low moment of his he was sure to regret.

It all happened so fast the way Carmy took several quick steps forward, fist swinging out just as Richie wrapped his arms around him stopping his momentum before his fist could connect with Mikey’s face. Carmy struggled against Richie for a few moments before slumping against him defeat clear on his face. He shoved Richie away from him as he let him go, angry eyes blazing through Mikey’s figure.

“Fuck you, Mikey,” The quiet angry quip was punctuated by the glob of spit flying out of Carmy’s mouth and landing by Mikey’s shoe.

The last thing Carmy wanted to see as he stormed into his room was your figure in the middle of his floor, sundress pushed far too high up your legs displaying your panties as you sorted through the first-aid supplies scattered around you that you’d most likely found in his bathroom.

You looked like a fucking idiot sitting there focusing way too hard trying to read the ointment you’d picked up. Carmy’s irritated huff reached your ears a wide grin gracing your lips as you looked up to see him standing in the doorway. He rolled his eyes slamming the door behind him as he made his way fully into the room.

The loud noise had you stifling your giggles, “Someone’s mad.” The words were drawn out in a sing-song voice.

Carmy was doing his damndest to not blow up on you as he made his way to his dresser before pulling out a pair of your sweats you kept over for emergencies. He pulled the sweats out balling them up in his hand before harshly slamming the drawer and turning around and tossing them at your head, the bundle of cotton hitting you in the face and sending you into a fit of hysterics.

“Fucking cover yourself up.” The harsh tone of his voice caused you to roll your eyes quiet giggles still slipping past your lips as you reached for the sweats before putting on a deep voice and mocking him.

You stood up struggling to step into your sweats without losing your balance. You’d thought you had it this time but you were mistaken as the feeling of being on one leg sent you toppling over onto Carmy’s bed.

Carmy’s anger ebbed away into annoyance at the state you were in as he moved to help you stand before leading you to sit on his bed eyes dropping to your scraped-up knees only to realize that you’d done fuck all to clean them.

He ignored you as he gathered the necessary supplies and began to work on the scrapes on your right knee, doing his best to finish quickly so the both of you could get some sleep and pretend this night never happened.

“Carmy, you’re still my best friend…right?” You still sounded out of it as you asked the question, Carmy was resigned to ignoring you but then your soft voice began whispering his name incessantly.

“Sure Baby.” The irritation was obvious in his voice, and even more obvious in the way he harshly rubbed the alcohol pad against your wound, the movement causing you to wince. “Sorry.”

You sat still for a moment before your hands made their way to his grown-out hair, fingers wrapping around the curls that began to form at the ends. “I have a secret to tell you but you have to promise you won’t get mad.”

He gave a noncommittal hum hoping to finish patching you up before you spoke another word. The silence in the room gave Carmy hope that you’d fallen asleep but he was sorely mistaken as your quiet voice reached his ears. “I kissed Mikey. But…he didn’t like it.”

Carmy was surprised to hear the words leave your mouth, sure that the drugs and alcohol in your system would lead you to crack some stupid joke. He let go of your leg before leaning back on his haunches his eyebrows furrowed at your admission. “Why?” If this was true, if you kissed Mikey of your own volition he needed to understand why. And it also meant he probably owed his older brother some form of an apology.

He watched as your shoulders moved up and down in a lazy shrug that goofy smile still pulling at your lips, but the sheen in your eyes contradicted it, “I wanted to forget about you.” Your voice was hoarse with emotion as you answered hands moving from the curls of Carmy’s hair to gently grip his face in your scratched-up hands.

The two of you stared at each other, minutes ticking by as you drank each other in, Carmy’s confusion only growing as you began to giggle again, the noise juxtaposed by the new tears streaming down your cheeks.

“But I think I’ll remember you forever.”

a/n: please don’t take this as your sign to get experimental with drugs and alcohol, in no way am i endorsing that any of you go out and do this. please remember you are responsible for your own media consumption!!!

my first edible made me think i was the yellow power ranger, so please if you do, use recreational drugs safely and correctly!!!

#etherealising’s 1k celebration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #fem reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] universe

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

Desperate times, desperate measures | ch. 7: It's all about the money

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: these two *talk*, parents beign absolute assholes, feelings, cuteness, fluff and a bit of angst as always.

A/N: i will introduce a new character in the next chapter, i just need to find the face claim. Initially, Michael B. Jordan was supposed to be a doctor, as in the movie, but as i planned the whole thing, the doctor made less and less sense... so now I need to find a face claim for an actor who will work with Page!

It's okay if you like it and all, but please... a comment is also welcomed and if you reblog it? I'll kiss you on the forehead.

If you want to be added, comment down!

When you wake up the next morning, Jake is still in bed, his soft snores leaving his body through parted lips. You could take this moment as an advantage, run towards Emma’s room, and busy yourself to avoid the necessary talk that awaits you. But running away from the problems is not the best solution.

You’ll have to face it sooner or later.

The thing is, whatever the hell almost happened last night, it felt good. It’s weird, it’s rare and new, and you don’t want to dive in head first just yet. Not when there’s so much at risk. Not when you two have a baby to take care of. Maybe you can tell Jake how you feel about it, and he won’t feel like you’re rejecting him. He really seemed interested in exploring this feeling that arose between the two of you last night, but you had fallen asleep by the time he came back. Not on purpose, though. You were tired of all the activities of the day.

“I thought you’d run away,” Jake mutters, eyes half open and voice hoarse and heavy due to the sleep. He stirs awake, the movement making the blanket fall from his chest and leaving his golden chest exposed to the morning sunlight entering through the window.

“It wouldn’t be fair to you, right?” You question, more to yourself than to him, while sitting on the bed with your legs crossed under you. “Can we…talk?”

Jake sighs, covering his face with his hands before sitting up and mimicking your posture. “Page, if you’re going to dump my ass, just be quick. I can take it.”

You shake your head, catching his attention. “I don’t want to dump your ass, Jake. It doesn’t mean that I want to change our whole relationship just because of one kiss.”

He nods, looking at his hands. “Yeah, you’re right. We should talk about it first. See what it meant to us? And how we feel.” The surprise in your face must be quite evident because he rolls his eyes and grabs a pillow that he throws at your head. “What? I can be rational too, you know.”

“Don’t throw me a pillow, cowboy.” You warn him, sliding your hand from your lap to the pillow resting on your side.

“What are you gonna do, darling?"

"Hit you with a pillow." You say it matter-of-factly, raising the pillow over your head. Jake jumps off the bed and throws himself to the floor, along with the rest of the cushions that were over the bed last night.

"You shouldn't announce your movements to the enemy." He looks at you, smirking like a hunter does when he has finally cornered his prey.

“Enemy?” You huff, moving slowly backwards. “I thought we were a team!”

“There’s no team in the pillow fight, Page. You should know that.” and before you even have time to answer, he's throwing all the other pillows your way, some of them—if not all—landing on your head.

You raise your hands in surrender and only look at him when you hear him chuckle. "I give up."

"I'll spare your life, then." Neither of you move from your spots. Not even an inch. You stay there, sitting on the floor and looking at each other, hundreds of unsaid words floating in the air between you. "I don't want us to fake that this didn't happen, Page."

You place your arms on the mattress, needing to touch something that grounds you and assures you that this isn't a dream. Not only are you having a proper conversation with him, but he's also confessing his desire to pursue these feelings that you two seem to have for each other.

It feels like a scene from one of your books.

"We have Emma, Jake. This decision isn't about us anymore."

"Emma deserves to have parents that like each other." Well, he's right on that.

"And what do you think it is that we deserve, Jake?" You ask him, wanting to know what he truly thinks.

You can see the corner of his lip twitching as he tries to conceal a smile. "We deserve to know what would have happened if I hadn't made that call."

You smile softly, looking at your hands. The same ones that ache for touching his bare chest. "Maybe it was meant to happen, you know. Call it destiny."

"I don't believe in destiny, darling," he retorts, getting up from the floor and walking towards you, offering you a hand to help you stand up. "But I do believe that we can make this work."

Once you're back on two feet, you look at him, finding solace in his emerald eyes. "This doesn't even have a name."

"You're a writer, I'm sure you'll find a word for it." He mumbles, caressing your cheek and getting lost in the intensity of your eyes. He always loved them. "Can I kiss you to seal the deal?"

You chuckle, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders. "You have been reading too many fairy tales lately."

"Yeah, maybe it's time to start writing my own." He places his hands on your hips, bringing you closer, and leans down to press his lips against your soft ones. This kiss is different from the one you shared the night before.

It's soft, sweet, and tender. And yet, it also leaves you craving for more.

Jake's whole existence makes you crave more than you have.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, licking his lips and smiling like he just won the biggest prize at the carnival. "I liked that."

"Me too." You admit while your fingertips find their way to his neck, playing with the soft and short hairs that have been growing since he started his paternal leave. "Let's not rush it, please. It would only fuck things up, and we still have many months ahead of us…"

He nods, kissing your forehead sweetly. "I'll try my best."

You hear movement in the other room, letting you know that Emma is up and ready to start a new day. "Looks like the princess woke up."

"Wait, if she's a princess, what are you? A king?" You laugh, feeling empty, when he moves away to go get Emma.

"I'm just a peasant amazed by the presence of a princess and the beautiful queen." He says before disappearing through the door and making you smile when he uses his sweetest voice to say hi to the little girl.

Jake and Emma are sitting on a blanket in the grass at the back of the house hours later while you answer your emails when Olivia comes out giving you an iced tea.

"Oh, thank you, Olivia. You didn’t have to!" She's been a sweetheart all day, and you think that maybe the initial awkwardness between Jake's family and you is over. "I didn't ask about your show. Was it good?"

"I didn't watch it in the end," she says, sighing and sitting down next to you. "I lost track of time talking with my husband."

"Oh, dear. I hope you get to see the chapter soon."

"I hope so."

The conversation ends there, and you keep answering your emails. You don't realize until a few minutes later that Olivia is still sitting there, but she's looking at the screen with gossiping intentions. "It's work stuff, you know."

"Oh, yeah, that I gathered."

Isn't she even a bit ashamed of having been caught snooping on someone's else's business? It doesn't seem like that, because she doesn't tear her eyes away from the screen even after being subtly called out. "Oh, you're gonna be an actress now?"

You let out an incredulous sigh before answering. "Yeah, but I'm sure you know that already after… reading the whole mail."

"We're family now! Your mail is my mail." She says with a gleeful expression that doesn't go well with the situation.

"I don't think this works like that." You mutter, sending the email and closing the laptop before she can start reading another email that doesn't have to do anything with her.

"A movie is a big opportunity, isn't it?" Olivia questions, taking a sip of her tea.

"It's what I wanted to do before becoming a writer." You answer her as politely as you can, looking in Jake's direction and hoping that he gets to look your way and see your expression.

"But you earn more money selling books, right?" She asks again, trying to learn more about the topic. Is she that interested in knowing how much money you earn?

“I don’t sell books, Olivia. I write them.”

She shakes her hand, waving it off. “You know what I mean.”

“Can I ask why are you so interested in my… net worth?”

She blinks, as if asking her that question surprises her. “Oh, I just want to know if you’ll have money to raise Emma alone once Jake gets tired of you.”

You stare into the distance for a solid thirty seconds before turning your whole body in your seat and looking at her. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, dear. It’s evident that he just married you to prove something to us. He needed someone to date. He found you and the kid and saw a chance.”

You rise to your feet, making yourself big in front of her and trying to look intimidating. “Mrs. Seresin, your son and I knew each other way before you and your husband threw him an engagement ring and forced him to get engaged to someone he didn’t love.”

Olivia scoffs, getting up from the chair, and showing in her face the same feelings that made you want to run away yesterday. “Honey, please. Don’t try to make yourself important. You’re just another pussy in my son’s dating history book.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You question her, tired of her antics and how she’s objectifying you. Your voice makes it to Jake’s ears, because as soon as the words leave your mouth, he’s walking in your direction with Emma in his arms.

“Everything alright, ladies?” He asks it in plural, including his mother, but he only looks at you, worried about the possible absurdities that his mother could have said to you.

“Oh, I don’t deserve that title, Jake. I’m just another pussy.” You repeat Olivia’s words, making her face go red. Now she’s getting embarrassed?

“You did not say that to Page, right?” Jake asks, stepping closer to her. “Right?”

Olivia throws the glass of ice tea to the floor, broken glass and ice cubes scattering all over the wooden floor of the patio. “And what if I did? She’s the reason why we’re going to lose the ranch! You decided to marry a famous whore rather than fulfill your duty as a son!”

“Don’t talk about her like that, mother.” Jake warns her, raising his tone and making Emma cry a bit. She must be scared. “I didn’t want to marry someone I didn’t love, I told you.”

“We all have to marry someone we don’t love, son. Look at me and your father!”

“Yeah, and how did that go? You hate him and us so much that you can’t even hang family pictures on the fucking walls. You hate your family!”

“But at least I did what I was supposed to do!” Olivia is yelling at this point, making Emma cry out in fear.

“I don’t want to form a family and hate my kids. I deserve better than that.”

Joe walks out of the house, looking between all of you to see what is going on. “Can you stop the yelling? I can’t hear the fucking TV.”

“Joe, can you tell your stupid son that he has to marry the Willer girl?” She keeps raising her voice, and it’s giving you a headache. You’re really close to slapping her. He just called Jake stupid, in front of you. She doesn’t care a bit about him.

“You don’t even know her name.” Jake shakes his head in disbelief, and you can see how his heart breaks a bit more every second he keeps talking to them. He manages to soothe Emma, and she grabs his shirt in between her tiny fists.

“I don’t need to know her fucking name because you won’t marry her! You only had one job, Jacob. You were supposed to inherit the ranch, but no, you had to go play the little soldier in the fucking plane!” Olivia is totally unhinged at this point, and you’re tired of her shit.

“I would fucking appreciate it if you stopped talking about my husband like that.” You grab your bag that had been resting on the table next to you and rummage through it until you find the checkbook that you always carry around but don’t really use. “You want money? Is that why you were so interested in how much I gained as a writer? Say your number.”

"Mom, you did what?” Jake shakes his head and places a hand over yours. “Please, Page. You don’t have to pay her anything.”

“Jake, it’s nothing, I promise. I just want you to get rid of them.” You whisper, squeezing his hand.

“Get rid of us? He should get rid of this fucking who—” Joe starts the sentence, but he stops halfway through it when Jake glares at him.

“I’ve been waiting to punch you in the face since I was six. Give me a reason.”

“Your number.” You repeat, looking only at Olivia.

“750k.” She smirks, raising an eyebrow, seemingly thinking that you don’t have that amount of money.

Little does she know that writing romance novels is more profitable than she thinks. You open your pen, swallowing a bit after you realize that this pen was Anne’s gift after you published your first novel. Seems like she’s still there for the important moments.

You write down the amount she asked for, sign it, and before you give it to her, you take a step in her direction, raising a finger. “There’s a condition, though.”

“What now?” She says, rolling her eyes.

“If you talk shit about Jake one more time, I will come back, buy this fucking dunghill, and destroy everything you have fought so hard to keep.” You simply say, not raising your voice, and being as calm as you can. You’re not going to give them the satisfaction of looking affected by their actions in front of them. “Am I clear?”

“Yes, now give me that fucking check.” Olivia mutters, not looking at you, her eyes fixed on the small piece of paper that put an end to all her problems.

“If you grab that check,” Jake says, standing next to you, “you can forget that you have a son.”

She raises an eyebrow, takes the check between her hands, and looks at him with scorn. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

You place a hand on the back of Jake’s arm, grab your purse and your laptop, and move him inside the house. “Let’s get our things and leave this place.”

“Page… I can’t return that money.” He whispers to Jake when you get to your room, looking embarrassed due to all this situation.

You grab his face between your hands, making him look at him. “Honey, you don’t need to pay me back, okay? There’s no need to. I feel bad, though.”

“Why?” He asks while packing the few little things you used this morning.

“I kind of feel like I bought your freedom, you know? I just... I couldn’t stand there and see how they were treating you and how this wasn’t going to end once we were gone.” You rant while sitting down, watching as Jake takes a place next to you.

“... would you be mad if I said my brain didn’t register anything after you said “my husband”?” He admits sheepishly looking at his hands.

You snort at his confession. “Really, Jake?”

“What? It was hot, okay?”

“Did I make you horny, baby?” You joke, getting up from the bed and closing the suitcase.

“Oh, yes, you did.”

He grabs the two suitcases while you carry Emma in your arms. “And you were supposed to be celibate for a year?”

“I swore fidelity, right?” He winks at you, trying to make things a bit easier. “I never said anything about us not doing things.”

“Cheeky bastard.”

You’re out of that ranch in fifteen minutes, not wanting to waste a single moment more there. They had what they always wanted. Maybe Jake would be able to live his life without having to worry about them.

On the way home, you two finish posting the pictures on Instagram—the ones that will make your relationship public and that will let you know not only to the world but to social services as well—that you two are in a serious, loving, and real relationship.

Now, the only thing you have to worry about is this new relationship that you two seem to be entering.

The instagrams

@halibshepherd

@mygyn

@the-romanian-is-bae

@justanothermagicalsara

@drakelover78

@celestialeviereads

@averyhotchner

@ravenhood2792

@potato-girl99981

@callsign-sunshine

@purplevortexx

@novastories

@luvrrish

@footprintsinthesxnd

@nikfigueiredo

@allivingstone01

@violyn20

@lunamoonbby

@dempy

@hangmandruigandmav

@shanimallina87

@tomanybandstolove

@inesdiary96

@phoenix1388

@jynxmirage

@crthurston

@fandom-life-12

@atarmychick007

@mayhemmanaged

@twsssmlmaa

@meigalibrary

@eugene-emt-roe

@startrekfangirl2233

@topgunslut

@clancycucumber230

@books-are-escapes

@mavrellover91

@soulmates8

@xoxabs88xox

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@iammirrorball

@chaoticassidy

@alana4610

@xstellakx

#top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #top gun #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun hangman #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman fluff #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun

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juniorig0327 · 23 days

Text

Had an idea and had to write it out (based on the idea explained here: https://www.tumblr.com/juniorig0327/760642994531713024/demigods-and-domains?source=share)

Percy spit out about a mouthful of teeth on the ground, clutching his sword. He glanced behind him to see Michael clutching his shoulder and then turned back at the titan Hyperion. Faster than he could blink, Hyperion turned into a ball of light and there was a cut opening up on his side and Hyperion was behind him.

“I honestly don’t know why step dad is so interested in you. You’re still way too weak.” Hyperion sneered at him, practically fidgeting with his sword and not sparing a second glance.

“You don’t have any nature spirits to help you, not this time Jackson.”

Percy grit his teeth. Fighting a titan was not on his Tartarus bingo card but it seems a lot of things that happened down here weren't on his bingo card. Frankly, he was getting frustrated. After what he did to Ahkyls, he told himself he wasn’t going to use his powers for things that weren’t natural, but when he looked at Hyperion and the injured Michael Yew behind him, quickly losing blood he knew he had a choice to make. Maybe he did this action out of guilt, out of a desperation to finally save someone, to have a clear conscience (he knew that wasn’t it – another excuse), or maybe he just had enough. Ever since he did what he did his power itched to be let out, it was uncontrollable (acting on its own?– no that doesn’t make sense).

It’s safe to say when he finally snapped out of his mind and let loose, it was conveniently when Hyperion bursted into a walking fire, only recognizable by his armor and helmet. It’s also safe to say not even Hyperion was able to comprehend what happened when his entire body just… stopped.

The flames were still and Percy had his arm stretched out but no, this wasn’t blood or water or anything like that. He couldn’t feel the churning in his gut, all he felt was a burning tingling feeling rushing up his arm.

“What…?” Percy looked at his arm in wonder. He looked up at Hyperion to see he was struggling with… something.

“What did you do, demigod?! You’re a son of Poseidon! What d–”

A sharp echoing laugh boomed throughout Tartarus. A shadowy, dirty looking figure formed from the ground in armor. “Well well well Perseus! I did not expect for your domains to have evolved this quickly. What have you been doing to that poor Phlegethon?” Percy’s head shot behind and as soon as he saw him (it? He didn’t know and he wasn’t in the state of mind to think on that) fear seemed to latch on and fuel every part of his body.

“No need for fear. I just wanted to check your progress, Grandson.”

“‘M not your grandson.” He said with a shaky voice.

“Of course not, but adding all those greats is definitely not convenient, Perseus. I’m proud of you. I didn’t think you’d expand your domain again so quickly. I have to say I am very intrigued. How far do you think you could go? If this is it for just a puny demigod what would happen if it was your precious Annabeth? Or maybe Nico, he was a fine specimen to experiment with for a while but unfortunately he was more of a sad pet. But you–” Percy imagined if Tartarus had eyes they’d be looking him up and down right now. He let out an audible gulp. His fear quickly switched to rage after his brain caught up with what he(it? whatever) said. He was talking about Nico like he was some sort of pet, like a human experiment. And not to mention him threatening Annabeth? The fear in his gut was replaced by a flare of rage.

“Have all this darkness within you. Perseus – to destroy – fitting is it not? Such raging darkness in a son of Poseidon is…unusual. I want to see what you can become.” Tartarus raised its hand(?), “Come Hyperion, let him be won’t you? After all the work he’s put in, I wouldn't want his reunion with his friend to be cut so short, at least for now.” Percy looked back at Michael and rushed towards him, ripping the sleeve of his shirt to try and help him. “You can sink your teeth into him later,” Hyperion only let out a grunt but by the way he felt a gaze into the core of his soul, he had a feeling Tartarus was talking to him “You bleed red with traces of gold in them Grandson. I wonder what awaits. Will you bleed gold ichor, or vanish in a blaze of golden dust?”

The implication sent shivers up his shine. Honestly, that explained a lot. Michael never explained why he had dark fingertips and unusual sharp nails. As Tartarus and Hyperion left like they were never there, Percy picked up Michael and started heading towards the Phlegethon. He had to get out of his place and back up to the seven and Annabeth ASAP. Percy already felt like a monster for all the people that died for him, for leading them to their deaths, for leaving Annabeth all alone (Just like Luke the voice deep within his head reminds him) he wasn’t interested in becoming a literal one too, no fucking way.

#juniorig #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #trials of apollo #greek gods pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #tartarus pjo #percabeth #house of hades #monster percy jackson #dark percy jackson #drabble #writters on tumblr #new writter #my writting #michael yew #nico di angelo

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beechersnope · 1 year

Note

I don’t care how niche it is I need more milf seb/mick 😫😫😫

ask and ye shall receive!!!

warning for mentions of underage masturbation, fucked up relationship dynamics, blink-and-you'll-miss-it michael/seb, objectively bad sex, and angst!

1877 words

***

Mick knows better than to enter Seb’s room unannounced. That’s why he does it.

Usually, it doesn’t amount to much. Most often: a quirked brow over the top of whatever book Seb is reading that day as she lounges in bed, steadfastly ignoring the kids shrieking their heads off outside her window as they chase each other around the garden. Sometimes, she’s asleep, just the knit blanket pulled over her to keep cool during the summer afternoons, pale skin peeking through the fabric like a promise.

Mick always lingers too long in the doorway, whether she knows he’s there or not.

Seb’s been coming to the summer house so long that the spare bedroom has become firmly and undeniably hers, but Mick can’t remember when he stopped knocking. Maybe when he was sixteen, and he’d caught a glimpse of her through a gap in the curtains, her back naked and gleaming from the shower. He remembers that summer vividly, despite the fact that he’d spent most of it under the covers in his bedroom wanking himself raw to the memory of that brief flash of skin.

Seb isn’t his. He can’t have her. But he wants.

It’s a shock to his system when he opens the door this time to find Seb naked and sprawled out in a mess of tangled sheets. Mick’s mouth goes dry. He stops short in the doorway, like he always does, but Seb makes no move to cover herself with the blanket lying in a crumpled ball near her hip.

“You’d better close the door,” is all she says in a calm, level voice.

Mick takes another step inside. He closes the door. Then he stares.

Seb lifts her eyebrows but doesn’t tell him to leave. She doesn’t get up either, still lying there in the same position Mick had found her in.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mick finally manages to tell her.

“Don’t think I’m up for it tonight,” Seb replies.

Mick finally takes in the whole scene as he stands there; the way Seb is holding her right arm at an awkward angle to her body, the slight tightness in her expression, the tube of some sort of medicated ointment sitting with the cap off at her feet.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks her. It almost feels like a normal conversation now, or it would if Seb wasn’t naked, what little remains of her modesty only preserved by the angle of her bent knee shadowing her groin. But Mick can still see her breasts, her nipples soft and malleable still in the warm air, and it’s about all he can do to keep his eyes locked on her own.

“My shoulder,” Seb replies with a taut smile. “Not as flexible as I used to be.”

Mick wants to ask what she was doing that requires flexibility, but that isn’t the sort of thing you ask a friend of the family, not even one he’s known for so long that they could practically be family—and that really isn’t the kind of thought he should have about someone he’s fantasized about every time he’s had a hand on his cock over the course of the last eight years of his life.

“Oh,” Mick says instead, still frozen just centimeters from the doorway. It’s all he can muster up in response. He should leave, he thinks, before he embarrasses himself any further. But he can’t seem to make himself turn around.

“Can you…?” Seb says with a vague hand gesture.

It takes Mick a second to realize she means for him to help her retrieve the ointment from the foot of the bed. Already, before he even takes a step forward, he has visions of slick hands against Seb’s skin dancing in his head.

He keeps his head down as he approaches the bed. He has to look at her at some point, he knows this, but it feels forbidden. Something he can’t come back from.

Mick carefully picks up the tube of ointment and squints down at the label. It isn’t any kind of muscle relaxant or pain reliever he’s ever used.

“You’ll need gloves,” Seb says in a soft voice. “You shouldn’t get it on your skin.”

Mick still doesn’t get it. He looks up at her from the foot of the bed, confused.

“It’s estradiol cream,” Seb explains. “For menopause.”

Mick scrunches his eyebrows together. His mother had just undergone menopause. Seb is almost twenty years younger. “You—” he starts to say, before realizing he has no idea how to finish that sentence. “I don’t have any gloves,” he says instead.

“That’s okay,” Seb replies simply. “There are condoms in my bag.”

Mick’s face goes hot, and he turns around immediately, though he knows there isn’t any hiding the blush that must be lighting up the back of his neck like a beacon. He finds her bag where it always is, open and still not unpacked, right next to the dresser that remains stubbornly empty year after year. It takes a bit of digging to find the condoms, and as he pulls them out in one big, long strip, he can’t help but wonder why she even has them at all.

Mick tears one off but doesn’t open it. He approaches the bed again, this time from the side, careful not to look at her as much as he wants.

“What do I…?” Mick has no idea how this works. “Do I just rub it on your back or something?” He assumes that’s what had done her shoulder in.

Seb stifles a laugh as she shakes her head. “It goes inside me,” she says, casual as anything.

The condom in Mick’s hand suddenly feels weightier than it should. “Oh.” He still doesn’t move to unwrap the condom. The tube of cream sits on the bed next to Seb, untouched. “You have to tell me,” Mick pleads in a small voice. “You have to tell me what I should do.”

Mick watches the gears turn in Seb’s head as he stares at her. He wonders if she never realized before that the way he panted after her every summer wasn’t out of childish admiration, but something else. Something hotter and darker.

“You can,” she says at last. “If you’re careful.”

“I want to,” Mick says, almost delirious with it. “I want to be careful.”

Seb smiles and says nothing. She opens her legs.

Mick has to close his eyes for a moment. It’s like a camera flash, the ruddy flush of her parted cunt imprinted on the backs of his eyelids.

When he opens them again, he’s already hard in his jeans, and he has to drop the condom onto the bedspread so he can rip them off, his shirt following shortly after in a flurry, tossed carelessly onto the floor. Something to worry about later.

The condom doesn’t go on easy, and Seb isn’t any help. Mick hasn’t had much practice, admittedly, and he burns with embarrassment from his head to his toes as he struggles to roll the condom over himself in a hurry. He somehow manages to snap the ring at the base against the underside of his cock at the very end, and the stinging pain radiates outwards from the point of contact with a strange heat that emerges from his mouth in the form of a low moan.

“You like a bit of pain?” Seb asks with a smirk.

Mick nods, though he isn’t even sure it’s true. He thinks maybe he’s just so overwhelmed by the imminent moment that he can’t process anything else, that all of him is so focused on the idea of being inside Seb that his brain is incapable of interpreting any other signals. They’re all getting turned away at the gate.

He has to move back up the length of her body once the condom is on, teeth gritted as she applies the cream to the very tip of his cock, careful not to let any spill onto the sheets.

“It’ll melt,” she tells him. “You’ll have to be quick.”

Mick doesn’t need any further encouragement.

He feels like a virgin again when he pushes inside her, nothing but the slickness of the cream guiding the way. She’s hot inside, which shouldn’t be a surprise, but it takes Mick’s breath away, nevertheless. He doesn’t think he’ll last long, and he doesn’t think he can make her come, but Seb doesn’t ask for anything. She lies there, seemingly content as Mick fucks in and out of her, almost frustratingly nonreactive.

"Did you—” Mick stops himself short again, slowing down the pace of his thrusts instead. This time, he knows what he wants to ask, but he doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer. He thinks it might hurt too much.

“Keep going,” Seb says. The look on her face says, ‘this is enough’, but it doesn’t feel like it for Mick.

This is everything he’s ever wanted, but it isn’t the way he wants it. He can’t have her the way he wants. He knows that. It’s already too late.

They barely touch as Mick fucks her, his hands pressed against the mattress on either side of her pillow. He’s careful not to press down on her. He doesn’t want to hurt her, he tells himself. (A lie.) She’s tight inside, and Mick thinks that without the condom or the cream, it would hurt them both. Like this, it’s just enough friction, just enough pressure that the condom almost doesn’t seem to matter. He can feel every part of her cunt around his cock; he thinks he could memorize her, just from this, that he’d be able to tell it was her even with his eyes closed.

He comes disappointingly soon, with a too-loud cry that he’s afraid to muffle against the inviting skin of her throat. As soon as it’s over, he pulls out and rolls over onto his back, already trying not to cry.

“You weren’t a virgin, were you?” Seb asks.

Mick doesn’t think she means it unkindly, but it still stings. He shakes his head.

“You should let me take the condom off,” she adds as he continues to lay there without moving, his dick finally starting to soften against his belly. “And make sure you wash up, too, before you go to dinner.”

Mick doesn’t say a word as he kneels next to Seb on the bed and waits for her to peel the condom off with an almost agonizing slowness. When she’s finished, she gestures to the adjoining bathroom.

Mick takes a long time, careful to wash any part of himself that had touched her. He scrubs his dick raw with the damp cloth, until it hurts so bad that that he has to bite his fist to keep from crying out loud enough for Seb to hear him beyond the bathroom door.

After he emerges a few minutes later, his soft, red cock cradled protectively in one hand, Seb is asleep on her left side, her back turned to him. Mick redresses quietly at the foot of her bed, watching the gentle ebb and flow of her sleep-breathing.

When Mick opens the door again to leave, he doesn’t linger.

#smick #f1 rpf #f1 smut #my fic #honestly did not mean for this to be as depressing as it is #was shooting for s*xy m*lf vibes and missed

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8bitsupervillain · 3 months

Text

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 2 Watanagashi pt. Final

Guess this is all tied up in a neat little package.

Ah man, so much for everything being tied up nice and neat.

I miss the simple days of when murder victims, and the dead killers stayed dead. It's like a bad horror series where they have to contrive reasons for why and how Michael Myers survived being locked in a burning building with no avenue for escape. "He survived because he hid where the guns are hidden." Bullshit, I don't think hiding in an impromptu oven will stop you from being cooked to death. Maybe the dead Mion and dead Takano are also friends with the writer and convinced him to spare their lives for a smidge.

There's a quote from an old crime writer named Mickey Spillane. "Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle. They read it to get to the end. If it's a letdown, they won't buy any more. The first page sells that book. The last page sells your next book." You might think this is a jab at Ryukishi07, but I like to think that he's heard this quote and has ingrained it in his soul. Come to think of it I'm pretty sure a lot of writers use this trick, even if they don't like to admit it. The mystery of how people who were apparently dead days before their corpses were found is an intriguing mystery. Now, of course this isn't the end of the chapter, but it's close enough.

It is a pretty good joke, shame Mion didn't see the comedy in it. Also it's tragic that the two were attacked and lost their faces. So how much of this was actually real do you think? I'm going to guess everything after the stabbing is all in Keiichi's mind and he did die of his stab wound. You don't twist the knife if you don't mean to make sure your victim is absolutely dead. I'm not a huge fan of the "everything was just the main character's dying dream" trope because I generally feel that's just people interacting with the book/game/VN/whatever at the absolute laziest possible level.

But this can't be real, up until this point ghosts haven't existed in the narrative at all. Not even as a one-off casual mention. I suppose you could argue that spirits exist because of the notion the god Oyashiro exists, and demons, but that could just as easily be counter-argued with the explanation these are just fairy tales.

I have a backup theory. My main bet is everything post stabbing is entirely in Keiichi's head, and he died from the wound. But the alternate theory I have is that everything up until Ooishi left happened, and that's when Keiichi died. His wounded body couldn't handle the mental strain of being told Mion, Shion, and everyone else had died, and as such it simply gave up. Which is extremely bad luck for Ooishi, that the last witness of the entire Sonozaki/Watanagashi Incident died shortly after he saw him. Which I guess would kind of make Ooishi the grim reaper.

I enjoyed it a lot better than Onikakushi. It was much more intriguing of a read.

Rika, just vibrating with fury.

Sorry Satoko, I'm pretty sure everyone's gonna be put through the wringer before all's said and done.

Ah, they have fun.

No.

Anyway, I do have a question, please feel free to answer it, but be mindful not to spoil please. Should I bother reading these All Cast Review Sessions? Do they actually contribute to the overall narrative? Or is it just a decompressing lighthearted discussion about the chapter? Would I lose anything if I just jumped directly from the end of say Chapter 3: Tatarigoroshi and went in immediately to Chapter 4: Himatsubushi? Basically, I'm wondering if these Review Sessions are like the Tea Party segments from Umineko, and will add large amounts of plot details to the overall narrative.

I ask this like it'll make a difference, I know myself well enough that I'm just going to read them regardless. Still, I'm curious.

#higurashi #higurashi when they cry #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi playthrough

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firephoenix2305 · 5 months

Text

CHAPTER 13 OF ETERNITY NOW AVAILABLE ON AO3 AND FFNET!

Finally!! I finished writing it! And what a rollercoaster of a chapter; I hope it makes your heart race like mine did while writing it!!

[Post season 2 angst-full with mysteries and adventures and having to stop metaturd, if you'd like to give it a try. Teen and up]

I've written this down on the notes as well, but basically, and I'm so so sorry, I'm going to have to go MIA writing and publishing-wise until at least June. (Nobody died, I just have to concentrate on my finals).

So, to be forgiven (and not having to dance for it), here's a 10k word chapter!!!! Yup, you did read that correctly! Plot heavy, prose heavy (hence why it took so long, dialogue is more my forte) and very, very crazy. Good Omens style. (If I did it right, that is)

Warning: Obscenely badass Aziraphale below cut :)

And actual TW for the chapter: Weapons (swords, spears)

- The building is surrounded - Uriel declared, in the tone of voice of one who is really convinced they have won - Your transport is guarded. I'm sure you've had fun in this wild goose chase, but you have reached the end. You are cornered - - Don't be so sure of that - Aziraphale immediately replied with not a single drop of doubt in his deep, severe voice, making even Crowley get a chill down his spine - I'm not letting you take Eleyn or hurt these people. Whatever that should take - - Spare your empty threats, cherub - Michael shot back, never releasing his eyes - You have no miracles, no way to escape; you're not even armed! - - Yet - the angel snapped, livid, and the archangel's stoic façade finally faltered - You often forget, Michael, that I am the angel of the Eastern Gate. I was created to protect; and I will not hesitate to do it, should you give me a reason- - Who are you trying to intimidate? - the archangel challenged, thought their voice was very slightly higher than before - We outnumber you ten to one - - And you also threaten those I care about – Aziraphale retorted – Believe me, the odds are not in your favor – he took a steadying breath, never releasing Michael’s gaze – Now, stand down and go back the way you came, before we need to make a mess of things- - And if I don’t? - the archangel shot back, though this time there was a slight tremor to their voice. - Then may God forgive me – he breathed, determination burning in his every word.

And another little snippet, because I love this line so freaking much.

Aziraphale knew that feeling; it had accompanied him almost every day for nearly six thousand years of existence. That sinking feeling one got upon understanding that everything they thought to be good wasn’t really that good, and everything they thought to be irredeemably bad maybe wasn’t that bad at all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #writers on tumblr #aziracrow #writing #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #crowley x aziraphale #phoenixwrites #chapter 13 wahoo!#fanfiction #fanficnet #Eternityfic

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destinyc1020 · 7 months

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Destiny I need your opinion 😭

I stopped being a timothee fan after he made that tasteless joke a few months ago (I was slowly losing interest in him anyways but that was the icing on the cake), and I don’t really care to see anything with him in it. Also, I’ve been VERY vocal about Palestine and the genocide going on is Gaza/Rafah, so I’m very much pro-Palestine. However, between my love for zendaya/florence (& lowkey infatuation with Austin) and all the flodaya press interviews/outfits, I’ve been interested in maybe giving dune 2 a chance. I’ve been seeing thousands of people for months on twitter saying they’re boycotting dune 2 given its appropriating nature and timothee’s lowkey zionistic antics, and I do agree those are valid points. But I’m starting to get an itch to get a dune 2 ticket 😭 internally I feel heavily conflicted and also kind of fraudulent because I’ve been a heavy boycott advocate but now I’m starting to reflect and questioning whether boycotting the movie is even the correct route. I know it’ll ultimately be up to me, but I’d love to hear your thoughts cause I’m fighting a battle with myself on this.

Hey Anon! 👋🏾

I almost feel like your ask is a "Confession Sunday" ask hahaha. 😅

There are a lot of conflicting emotions in this post of yours lol. 🤭

Anyway, I'll be honest, I'm very HESTITANT in even breaching this topic again because I really don't like discussing political issues on my blog. It can be very contentious, divisive, and get people very heated. Not only that, but I feel like no matter what side of the fence you sit on, I always end up getting attacked in my inbox by someone who passionately feels differently from me.

I can't speak on certain issues because I just don't feel comfortable enough with knowing both sides to weigh in on them. So, my disclaimer is that I'm not coming at your question with an "educated" or "well-rounded" political historical viewpoint. I'm just an average person. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I don't like conflict, and I don't like drama. I try to stay out of it as much as possible.

With that said...... TL;DL Version: Anon, you have my permission to watch this movie lol, or not. Basically, do whatever you want lol 😅

The LONG Version: Below 👇

My Honest Opinion?

Like I've said before, people are FREE to do whatever they want with regards to this "Dune: Part 2" movie (and ANY movie for that matter). What bothers one person might not bother another. Ykwim? I just feel like no matter what decision a person makes, they shouldn't be judged for it either way. It's THEIR choice.

Spare yourself the inner turmoil Anon lol. It's JUST a movie. It's not like it's a Governmental declaration, or a formal political statement. As much as Timothee was insensitive and messed up with that SNL skit.... I'm sorry, but he is NOT the only cast member in this film. Nor is he the only individual that worked on it (cast, crew, director, stunt people, etc) And if you have a genuine interest in, or are a fan of some of the OTHER cast members in the film (i.e. Zendaya, Florence, Austin, Rebecca, Christopher Walken, etc.) then why should the rest of the cast be punished just because of the stupid/silly insensitive actions of their ONE cast member?? 🥴

Is that really fair to the rest of the cast, crew, and others who worked tirelessly HARD on this movie? 🤔 I don't care for what Jonathan Majors did to his gf, but that doesn't mean that I'm personally never going to watch the movie "Creed 3" again. That movie was hard work, and Michael B. Jordan's directorial debut. It was a GOOD film. Why should Michael be punished just cuz his co-star is an a**hole?? 🥴

Another thing.... This movie is going to make BANK regardless of if you or others decide to see it or NOT. 👀

I think if the FILM itself were preaching anti-Palestine rhetoric, or it was a formal declaration of political views on the Gaza/Palestine and Israel conflict, then I think I would feel very differently about this film.

Another thing I wonder: Has Timmy himself come out and said that he is against Gaza/Palestine?? 🤔 (Serious question) Has he provided his stance on the conflict? His "Hamas" skit (which wasn't the entire joke btw) was insensitive, yes, but do we REALLY know his real stance on this issue? Or, did he just underestimate how insensitive that skit was (that he didn't even write btw)?

I also look at how the cast has treated him. The cast KNOWS him personally. If they really had an issue with him, we would know it. You can only hide your disgust for a person for so long....no matter if you're an "actor" or not. It will come out in small ways eventually (i.e. body language, little glances, facial expressions, etc). The fact that the cast seems not only fine with Timmy, but genuinely HAPPY with him is pretty telling to ME.

Like I said, they know him way better than we do. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Lastly, The film is being praised as one of the best films of all time (kind of a stretch if you ask me, but hey, WB loves this type of marketing lol).... It actually seems like it's going to be GOOD film. Are you going to skip it just because of one person? That's just a question for inner reflection. I could see if the movie SUCKED or is getting horrid reviews lol, but it actually seems like the film is being enjoyed tremendously by most people. Many are saying it's even better than Part 1. 👀

With all of that said.....

If it really bothers your conscience that you support Gaza but might want to see this movie that stars Timothee in the lead role, then just do whatever YOU feel is best for YOU Anon. 😊 Imo, nobody should judge you either way, and people online (who don't even know you personally btw) shouldn't have a say on YOUR life. But if it bothers you that deeply, then simply don't watch! It's just as simple as that lol. 😊 Nobody is forcing you to watch, just like nobody should be forcing you to NOT watch.

I'll be curious to see what decision you make Anon lol. You should come back here and tell us. Either way, you won't get any judgement on it from me. If it means anything, you have my "permission" Anon (not that you needed it lol) to go and watch this movie lol. 🤭 Like I said before, it's JUST a movie, it's JUST a piece of art. 🤷🏾‍♀️

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 2 months

Text

20k Masterlist

Butterfly (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton, michael/calum M, 29k

Summary: Luke is depressed and Ashton makes him feel loved (and maybe Luke returns the favour too). Also Malum. Yes.

Denouement (Love is Almost Always Accidental) (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/ashton T, 28k

Summary: Ashton’s parents send him to boarding school in Paris, where he is immediately charmed by Luke. Unfortunately, Luke has a boyfriend.

Endlessly (ao3) - thesoulsailor E, 27k

Summary: “I know who he is.” The boy, Ashton, commented, closing his book. Not sparing Calum a single look, he hopped off his chair and started walking towards the back door of the room. His movements were rigid, tense as if Calum had offended him personally by just his presence. Which confused Calum more than it should’ve if he was being honest. Normally people were easy for Calum. He got along with almost everyone he met from the go. Not so Ashton. Ashton seemed to detest him and Calum had no idea why.

or Calum is the undisputed king of his high school, Ashton speaks through colours, Luke doesn’t let anybody touch him and Michael is so getting killed by for hiding that snake in their teacher’s drawer.

feeling the weight of the world (ao3) - babyblueliveshere calum/ashton M, 22k

Summary: duke university and the university of north carolina, ten miles apart, home to the most intense rivalry in all of college basketball. and now, they have the top two high school basketball recruits in the nation: ashton irwin and calum hood.

feels like i’m dreaming but i’m not sleeping (ao3) - badomensbaby luke/calum, michael/ashton E, 29k

Summary: “But saying that out loud is just..” the blonde boy trails off, his voice weakened and unsteady, “Makes me feel kind of pathetic, I guess.” “Pathetic?” Calum parrots, “Therapy isn’t just for people who have issues, Luke. I have patients who just like to tell me about their life because they want to. You have this preconceived notion that therapy is only for broken people.”

or, luke has too many problems but calum doesn’t mind them.

Gotta Be Cruel to be Kind (ao3) - fourdrunksluts michael/ashton, luke/calum E, 26k

Summary: “It’s just for a date or two.” Calum sounds exasperated despite Michael’s excuse being perfectly valid. “Ashton’s hot.”

“Ashton’s a shrew,” he corrects, voice biting. “I’m not going to… to tame him, or whatever, just so you can convince some twink to go on a mediocre date with you.“

Got to Get Out (ao3) - Emmybazy luke/alum, luke/ashton, luke/harry, luke/niall M, 21k

Summary: Calum and Luke have been friends all their lives. Calum starts getting more and more opportunities to get out of town, so he takes them. Something is telling him he needs to leave town every time he settles. Luke is there through it all.

Or, Calum is always leaving and Luke always seems to be waiting.

Honeysuckle - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton, ashton/ofc E, 28k

Summary: Ashton realizes fairly soon into touring that remembering names isn’t worth his time.

or, it’s the 1970s, Ashton is a homophobic lead singer and Luke is the new gay roadie on tour with his band.

How To Seduce Your Best Friend In 10 Days (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance luke/calum E, 22k

Summary: When you have a crush on somebody for a long time and it gets unbearable: it’s about time to do something about it… That’s how Luke ended up with a great plan of his own… Or something like that…

Kiss Me Like Nobody’s Watching (ao3) - simplecharli luke/ashton N/R, 24k

Summary: Luke is bullied at his high school. Enter Ashton, a guy he met at a bar and who he didn’t know was going to be his new teacher. Complications and heartbreak ensue. Will they be able to get through it?

Luke Hugged Him Back Just As Tightly And Heard Michael Whisper ‘Friends’. (ao3) - destiel_lemmings E, 28k

Summary: Luke knew that this was going to be weird. He new roommate/ex-kitten were now even more indulged in Luke’s mind. The only problem was that his roommate was not only attractive but he knew Luke like the back of his hand, and Luke had just met the boy.

Or this is a continuation of ‘With A Meow And A Belly Rub Luke Knew He Was In Love With The Ball Of Fur.’ And Michael knows all of Luke’s quirks but Luke is just getting to know the cute boy that was once his kitten. This is the journey through their friendship and maybe even relationship?

my, my, those eyes like fire (ao3) - badomensbaby luke/calum E, 22k

Summary: “What the fuck?” he breathes out in a panic, eyes widening and abandoning the grip on his dick, almost frozen with shock. “Oh my god. No, no no-” There’s no fucking way. Luke’s nakedly scrambling off the bed in search of his phone, which ended up beside the entertainment center, luckily void of scratches but the photo that caused his panic-ridden phone throwing episode is still pulled up. And it’s unmistakably Calum.

Oil and Water (ao3) - dafeedil michael/calum E, 25k

Summary: Calum’s heart sinks a little bit, and he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because he’s allowed himself to fall victim to Michael’s seduction yet again, or maybe it’s because he’s disappointed in himself for being so willing to try something that could so easily be dangerous. Or maybe, the most likely of all, it’s because he can hear Mali’s voice in his head telling him how stupid he’s been to have found himself—quite literally—backed against the wall like this, with a boy he barely knows whispering dirty promises into his ear when he doesn’t even know the first thing about real relationships.

Or, Calum spends a night with the boy that smells like smoke, and as it always is with bad addictions, he keeps getting sucked right back in.

on purpose (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/ashton T, 20k

Summary: The desire to kiss Luke is overwhelming. Calum knows he looks ridiculous right now, but Luke’s right there, face inches away, smiling fondly at Calum’s stupid face caught between his careful palms. His eyes are different too. He’s not looking at Calum like he wants to fuck him. He’s looking at Calum like he wants to gently cradle Calum in his giant hands like a baby chick. Somehow, that’s even worse.

put the stars in our eyes (ao3) - burstintocolor (anchormate) luke/calum M, 25k

Summary: Ben hangs up, leaving Luke still reeling. His family thinks he and Cal are dating. And they weren’t surprised. They’d been waiting for it. His mum cried because she was so happy for him. And worst of all, he hadn’t had a chance to correct Ben. Luke rolls over on his bed, burying his face in his pillow and letting out a groan.

or, luke’s family thinks he’s dating calum. luke doesn’t correct them.

stained hearts (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 28k

Summary: “I’m not really looking for a serious relationship right now.”

Okay. That’s okay. Good, even. Get to know each other before they get in too deep.

“But I liked spending time with you and I liked having sex with you and I’d like to do it again.” Luke squeezes Calum’s hand, pulling Calum’s gaze to his face. He’s smiling softly, eyes illuminated by the sun, starbursts in his pupils and shadows of his curls in perfect spirals on his shoulders. “If you want.”

Casual. Sure. Calum can do casual.

“I want.”

Subject Line - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton E, 20k

Summary: Maybe the sunrise doesn’t matter much after all. Calum can watch the sunrise any day. How many days will he get Ashton like this? Shirtless, sporting bedhead in a hotel room, with just the two of them for a few lazy hours alone?

Soon enough, they’ll be back on the tour bus and Calum won’t be allowed to hold Ashton’s hand anymore.

The Upside of Everything Wrong (ao3) - orphan_account michael/calum, luke/calum, luke/ashton N/R, 24k

Summary: “Well we’ve always kind of deviated, don’t you think?” He says with a sly little smile that metaphorically knocks Calum on his ass. His face turns red again, and why, why is Michael doing this to him? “I do think that.” He whispers. He leans a bit closer to Michael, and lets his head rest against the boy’s shoulder. “But this isn’t a date.”

or the one where Calum’s been betrayed by everyone he’s put trust in, and believes he’s unlovable until Michael appears, and shows Calum just how easy being loved can be

Tinted Windows - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton, michael/calum M, 21k

Summary: Luke doesn’t trust sleek cars with tinted windows and he certainly doesn’t trust the new kid on the corner who can’t stop smiling. Whores aren’t supposed to be that happy.

Words Have Two Meanings (ao3) - fourdrunksluts luke/ashton N/R, 22k

Summary: In a world where your soulmate is determined by their favorite song, people have gone, and continue to go, to extreme lengths to find their other half. Luke is certain Ashton’s his soulmate - even if every sign in the universe is telling him no.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #masterlists #20k #20k masterlist

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blasphemecel · 22 days

Text

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 0.9k TYPE: Meet-ugly (community service 💀), Crackfic WARNING(S): None? Dick jokes ?

There is a pair of shears in your hands and an ugly man to your left.

Actually, he’s not that unfortunate looking, but he seems like he should know better than whatever that excuse of a hairstyle is supposed to be.

You snip away at your government-assigned bush little by little while humming and stroking your chin in fake artisan appreciation, eyes darting between him and the shrub. Though you’re supposed to be working on this together, he hasn’t been doing much aside from pretending to prune whenever the supervisor passes by.

“Do you think I could shape it into a penis?” you ask, flicking a leaf with your finger.

The guy spares you one hateful glance before he crosses his arms, perhaps to signal that this is your battle to fight alone.

“I know they want them to be squares, but I’m into abstract art. Like really into it,” you say, lying.

He doesn’t respond.

You cut a dead branch and throw it at him, which prompts him to evaluate you like one might examine a particularly watery piece of shit out on the street. “So what’re you in for?”

“I’ve been ignoring you for fifteen minutes,” he snaps, picking up the specific stick you tossed at him from the ground and aiming for your eye when he returns the favor, possibly trying to blind you. You dodge with a smile of mild contentment. “Stop talking.”

“I imagined you to be the kinda pedantic asshole who’d argue that maybe penises aren’t abstract, or about how technically we’re not in jail, so I shouldn’t act like we are.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you imagined,” he says before ripping out another dead branch with his bare hands (even though he also has gardening scissors like you do), immediately ruining the minimal progress you’ve made. “And you’re doing this way too slow.”

You nod, not bothering to inform him of how unhelpful he has been in this endeavor. Not that it matters. You’re not here to be productive. You just have a set of hours you need to fill out.

After a short while of mundane passivity, he realizes your chatter, while irritating, at least provided something to stimulate his mind, meaning an excuse to be annoyed. He says, “I got a parking ticket.”

“Really? Community service just for one parking ticket?”

“... I got sixty parking tickets.”

“Well, sounds to me like your parking is more in the style of post-impressionism than realism, but what do I know, I’m not a doctor.”

He ignores the twine of bullshit you just strung together, asserting himself above the usual game you fall into with people where they run around in circles riling themselves up trying to explain to you that you are talking nonsense. Instead he takes it in like it is natural and asks, “And what did you do?”

“Fraud,” you say, lying a second time. In reality you tried to shoplift a mop, although apparently both you and the item were not as inconspicuous as you believed.

“Since when do they give community service for fraud?”

“Hey,” you raise your hands in mock surrender, “it was a small-time fraud.”

“Yeah, whatever that means.”

“It means I ball like Milken,” you say.

“I don’t know who that is.”

You feel generous enough to elaborate, “Michael Milken.”

“That wasn’t an invitation for you to keep talking,” he rolls his eyes with the attitude of an invisible camera capturing his expression and turning him into a gif for people who describe themselves as ‘sassy’ to use, “nor is it helpful to anyone who doesn’t concern themselves with trivia about American scammers.” The way he says the word ‘American’ makes it sound like some kind of malaise.

“What do you concern yourself with, then? What’s your name?”

“That’s cute, but you don’t need to pretend you don’t know who I am.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together and wrinkle your forehead in an ugly manner as you struggle to conceive of what he’s on about. “Know you? Have we met before? I admit I went to that lame piano bar once, but I don’t remember anyone from there.”

“Do I look like you met me at a fucking piano bar?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Michael Kaiser.” There is a cadence of importance in his tone, so maybe he thinks his name means anything to you, which it doesn’t.

“Mike Kaiser.”

“No, not like Milken. You know how. You heard me say it.”

You turn around to go back to your gardening, deciding to work on your penis shrub project. Of course, it’s not coming out successful — there is not even a hint of a phallic shape, but even so, you must persevere.

This ‘Michael Kaiser’ watches you for a while. “You really don’t know who I am.”

“No, Mikey.”

“You’re fucking irritating,” he says. After some consideration, he adds, “Give me your number. We should go out sometime.”

“Maybe,” you agree noncommittally.

“Alright. Here’s what you’re gonna do. If you can come up with a way for us to get off community service early, I’ll give you my number,” Kaiser tells you, acting like you’re the one who came up with the idea of you two seeing each other again, or as if you’re begging to go out with him on a date.

It is very audacious. He’s standing there with a smug smirk on his face, arms still crossed. You think something’s wrong with him.

Either you’re falling in love or his display of unmedicated mental illness is arousing you because you’re suddenly feeling compelled by his advances out of nowhere, but one thing is for sure:

You’ll never really be able to trim the shrub into a penis.

#michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser x you

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bluejay-writes · 7 months

Text

Heaven is a Misnomer - Chapter 8

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Rating: Teen Chapter 8 Wordcount: 3188 Characters/Relationships: Jake (Exchange student OC) / Raphael Summary: In this week's episode, we find out about Feniel's job as an angel, and in general learn more about the general disregard in which angels hold each other. You can also read this on AO3, if that's your jam!

First Chapter || Prev Chapter || Next Chapter

Chapter 8: When watching isn't simple.

In a dramatic twist that would likely surprise his mother most of all, Jake found that his favorite chores around the dorm were definitely doing the dishes. And so, when Friday rolled around and there was no evening seminar planned, and it seemed like everyone was gearing up to go out somewhere, Jake wasn’t surprised when Aya came up and begged to trade chores with him.

“Please? Just this once?”

Jake pretended to be considering it, but obviously he was going to agree. It’s not like he was going to go out clubbing with her anyway.

“Who’s your chore partner?”

“Today? Feniel. He’s real good at dishes, you won’t even get bored.”

And so, Jake found himself drying dishes on a Friday night while just about everyone else seemed to be getting themselves dolled up to go out somewhere.

“How are you finding the exchange program so far, Jake?” Fen asked cheerfully.

“Meh.” Jake responded, not sure what Fen was really asking, or if he was just making conversation.

“No, actually I’m curious. If you’re willing to tell me what you honestly think.”

Jake took a moment to actually think about it and collect his thoughts before he answered.

“Honestly? It’s fine. I mean the classes are about as hard as my AP classes, so probably what college would be like. The administration needs some work, and my classmates are incredibly biased against anyone who’s not an angel, but the people in my dorm don’t suck and I feel like I might have made some friends.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, there’s this one angel who seems to care about my wellbeing and surprisingly my mental health? Super cool. I’m a fan. Maybe you know him, his name’s Feniel?”

Fen had the decency to blush in response to Jake’s teasing compliments. “I, uh. Thanks?”

“What about you, Fen? What’s it been like for you, having Humans and Demons in your dorm?”

“Weird, but also… normal? Don’t get me wrong, It’s startling to see Yboun’dih just chilling on a couch in the lounge, and not smell whatever sweet concoction Luke is baking. But it’s not as jarring as I thought it would be to have non-angels in our space. All four of you are surprisingly polite. Nothing like we’ve been taught to expect from humans, and especially not from Demons.”

“Fair, it’s been a lot like I’d expect studying abroad would be like back home, personally.”

From there, the conversation devolved back into talking about classes, and eventually the dishes were finished. They didn’t take long despite the number of people in the dorm. Or maybe it was just the good company while doing them.

Later, Jake sat in the quiet lounge on the top floor of the dorm building, taking notes in one of his spare notebooks about his experiences in the Celestial Realm thus far. He knew he had to write a report on a topic at the end of the year, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget his initial feelings about the whole thing by the time the year was up.

Raphael taking over for Michael had been the biggest boon for his sanity. He basically never saw the overbearing asshole of an angel anymore, just his discipline lackey. Which sounded like he didn’t care for Raphael, but honestly he just hadn’t gotten a chance to know him outside of classes. Raphael was probably the most attractive being Jake had ever encountered, especially when he smiled. Sure, sure, Jake had only seen a smirk, but even that just about ended him the first time he saw it out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you thinking about with a look like that on your face, Jake?” Feniel said, having walked up utterly silently.

Jake startled, and blushed. “Uh. Nothing.”

“Mhm. And nothing makes you blush.”

“Lots of things make me blush! The way you angels dress by default makes me blush! I was just writing about my initial experiences here so that I’ll have notes for my paper at the end of the year.” Jake said, brushing off his thoughts about Raphael with a general observation, instead.

“Oh, that’s true.” Fen said with a smile. “Thanks to the sun being out constantly, it’s generally ‘summer attire’ in the Celestial Realm. Lots of skin showing, for certain.”

“Based on our mythology about Heaven, I expected angels to all be prudes.”

“And yet.” Fen said, laughing.

“And yet.” Jake agreed. “Can I ask you a personal question, Fen?”

“Sure, go for it. We’re friends after all.”

“What’s your job as an Angel? I mean, Michael’s in charge, Gabriel’s IT, Raphael’s in charge of punishments, Azrael is the whole ass angel of death but what about you?”

“Oh, well. That’s both simple and an entire kettle of fish to open. For one, I’m doing a shit job at my job right now. And I’m irritated about it. But that’s neither here nor there.” Feniel settled on a couch. “I’m the one who’s set to watch any immortals that are outside of Angel and Demon kind. Have you heard of Solomon the Wise?”

“Oh, yeah definitely. He’s the other exchange student in the Devildom, right?”

“Other? Wait, no, we’ll come back to that. Yes, he is. And, he’s immortal. And it’s literally my job to watch him, but I didn’t get chosen to go to the Devildom for the exchange program, which would have made my job not only possible, but actually doable, you know?”

“Wow. That… seems like a major oversight.”

“Yeah. I’m still mad about it.”

“Well, you’re immortal, so at least you won’t die mad about it?”

“Unless someone kills me, but yeah.”

“Let’s not let that happen then.” Jake chuckled, but he really really didn’t like to think about people dying. Especially not his newest friend.

“But enough about me being a sore loser. I’m used to having to scry on Solomon to watch him, but he never gets up to anything interesting when I do. He can sense that I’m watching and just does normal old dude stuff. Very boring.”

“Yeah, sounds like it would be. Are you supposed to be watching him to keep him from doing something, or to learn something in particular about him?”

“Oh, well, no not really. Just that immortals are very rare and can cause a lot of problems if they get uppity, so it’s my job to watch for mental instability that might need to be corrected, you know?”

“So you’re like Solomon’s secret social worker.”

“Kinda, yeah. Weird, I know.”

“No, it makes sense. I mean, like, he can outlive everyone else, so he may as well have some angel watching so he doesn’t go stir crazy. Or just general crazy.”

“Yep, that’s basically it. Anyway, what did you say about Solomon being the other Exchange student?”

“Oh. Well. That’s an easy answer. My bestie is down in the Devildom right now. We were supposed to be together for the exchange program, but something got twisted so she’s down there and I’m up here.”

“Oh. OH! That is so cool!” Feniel said, grinning. “Okay, so not the splitting you two up part, but the fact that she’s down there. Maybe this would be a good way to do some extracurricular Solomon watching! We can have your friend tell us if he gets up to anything interesting. He wouldn’t know I’m watching, you know? They can regale us with Solomon Stories.”

Jake laughed. “I can ask. I know she was going to ask him if he really would have cut that baby in half back in the day.”

“I have always wondered about that. Did she say what he said about it?”

“No, I never followed up, but I can totally ask. Give me a sec.”

Jake > Nia: Hey did you ask Solomon about cutting that baby in half? Nia > Jake: Oh I totally did. Nia > Jake: He said he wouldn’t have, that he’d have kept the baby for himself because they wouldn’t have deserved to raise it.

Jake laughed, and shared the bit about the baby with Fen.

“Wait, raise it like his own kids? Damn, Solomon would be such a time as a dad.” Fen said with a smile. “I mean, imagine your dad always looking the exact same age and then finding out he’s immortal.”

Jake > Nia: Aw, he sounds like he’d be a cool dad. Nia > Jake: He’s really touchy about family stuff - something about any time he gets too close to someone, or has a kid, they and the kids get dead. Jake > Nia: Yikes on Bikes. Nia > Jake: You’re telling me!

Jake passed on the information he’d learned from Nia.

Fen winced. “Yeah. I think the family stuff is the hardest part about watching Solomon. I have to watch his descendants, too, because while his Immortality shouldn’t be inheritable, it could happen, so I’ve… seen it all, really.”

Jake reached out and put a hand on Fen’s shoulder. That had to suck. Your job meaning you had to watch wives and children die… he couldn’t even imagine it.

“Did you have to…”

“You want to know if I had to actually watch them die.” Fen said, darkly, and Jake just nodded.

“No. I never managed to be looking when it happened. Just before, they looked scared. Just after, with the blood still wet…”

Jake wasn’t prepared to deal with a crying angel, but damned if he was going to let his new friend cry without any support. On impulse, he pulled the angel into his arms when he started sobbing, and just held him. Feniel had been there when he was having a panic attack, he was going to be here for Fen while he dealt with the grief of so many deaths.

As they were sitting there, Fen calming down slowly but surely, Jake heard the sound of someone else’s footsteps, clearly trying to make themselves heard. Then he heard someone clear their throat before a glass of water was set on the side table next to Jake.

“He’ll need this.” Raphael’s quiet voice carried over his shoulder, before the footsteps retreated. He wondered, then, how much the other angel had heard of their conversation. But then, they’d known each other for hundreds of years. Raphael probably knew all about what was going on with Fen.

Another few minutes, and Fen shifted himself out of Jake’s embrace, and Jake handed him the glass of water.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes it just… hits.” He said. “It’s been a long time since I cried like that.”

“Well, I’m glad I was here to lend a shoulder.” Jake said, fidgeting. Now that he didn’t have his arms full of distressed angel, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Me too. You didn’t have to do that, but it was leaps and bounds better than crying alone.”

“You didn’t have to sit with me through my panic attack the other day, either. But you did.”

“Well.” Fen said, as though it explained everything.

Jake walked him back to his room, and then retired to his own space. As he walked down the hall, he saw that Raphael was waiting for him, leaning on the doorframe of his room.

“That was kind, helping him through that.” Raphael said, speaking to Jake without prompt for the first time.

“Anyone would have done what I did.” Jake said, brushing off the praise. It wasn’t a praiseworthy thing, holding someone while they cried.

“No. They wouldn’t. Feniel’s dealt with that pain mostly on his own this entire time.” Raphael said quietly, with a tone full of guilt. “Sometimes I can tell when he’s feeling down and I can be there to help, but other times I’m only there to help pick up the pieces after. Everyone else seems to avoid him when he’s feeling down.”

“I’m sure everyone else has their own problems, but also that’s shitty, and he deserves better. I’m glad I was there, then. Even though it was my thoughtless questions that brought him down.”

“Really? How did it come up?”

“I asked him about what his job was, as an angel. I wanted to get to know him better. You know, you’re discipline, Azrael’s the angel of death, all that. He’s already such a good friend, you know?”

Raphael nodded. “You’re a good friend, too. Jake. Have a good night.”

“Thanks.” Jake said, stepping into his room. “I will.”

For the first time since the exchange program started, Jake woke in the morning not from a nightmare, but from a knock at his door. He reached out to check the time on his phone, but despite being plugged in, it seemed to be powered off.

“Jake, you in there?” Bunny’s voice called to him from the other side of the door.

Jake rolled out of bed and opened the door, not even worrying about his bedhead and rumpled presentation.

“Morning, Bunny.”

“Mornin, boyo! I was wondering why you didn’t appear to jog with me this morning, but you only now woke up!” Without his phone to look at, Jake turned to his trusty watch - it was 10am? What in the world was going on? He had alarms set for 8:30 and 9am, so that he didn’t skip taking his meds. He’d never once been asleep when they went off, but that was entirely beside the point.

“Yeah, I… my alarms didn’t go off.” Jake said awkwardly.

“Well I was about to go hit the gym, do you wanna come spot me, maybe do some lifting? I can wait for you to get changed and stuff.”

“Did you just get back from your run?”

“Yeah, but I stopped in the middle for breakfast.”

Jake nodded. Bunny’s appetite was a known quantity. From what Nia said, she wasn’t as overboard as the avatar of gluttony, but he was pretty sure those two would be good friends.

“Cool, uh…” Jake had been fiddling with his phone, but it wouldn’t turn on, and it had been charging all night. “I need to swing by Gabriel’s room before we go - my device is broken.”

“Okay! I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Bunny said, practically bouncing off.

Jake laughed and closed his door, getting himself ready in the only non-uniform non-pajama clothes he had so that he could go lift weights with Bunny. Jeans weren’t ideal, but like hell he was wearing khakis to the gym.

He wasn’t looking forward to bothering Gabriel about his phone, the angel constantly looked over-worked, but Jake literally couldn’t fix it himself. He wasn’t a whiz with technology to start with, and this was Celestial Realm tech, so who knew what might actually be wrong with it.

A few steps down the hallway, and there he was, knocking on the door and hoping beyond hope that Gabriel was actually in his room. Otherwise he’d have to have someone call the angel for him, and—

The door creaked open, and a cranky-looking Gabriel looked out at Jake as though he’d personally offended him before schooling his expression.

“What can I do for you today, Jake?” Gabriel said, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but my device won’t turn on - it turned itself off at some point overnight, and so my alarms didn’t go off this morning.”

“Did you forget to charge it?” Gabriel said, reaching for the offending tech even as he asked the obvious question.

“It was plugged in all night.”

“Well.” Gabriel said, sighing. “I have meetings for a majority of today, but I should be able to get this working by dinnertime. Will you be alright without a phone today?”

“Yeah, the only time I’m planning to leave the dorm today is to go work out with Bunny in a bit, so I should be reachable if you need anything from me, too.”

“Alright Jake. Thanks for being patient, I’ll try to get this back to you as swiftly as possible.”

“Don’t stress yourself too much.”

Gabriel laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll try.”

“Bunny, I’m not sure I can spot you for something this heavy.” Jake said, concerned.

“You can’t lift 300?”

“Nope.” Jake flailed comically with his noodle arms.

“Oh, well! Let me help you figure out what you can lift, and then I can just do more reps with that. Better safe than squashed.”

After some testing and training, Jake learned that he could safely bench press about 150 pounds, and they felt safe having him spot Bunny for a 200 pound lift. Not that she ever needed his help, but that was beside the point.

Jake spent a lot of time that morning thinking about the level of safety and care that Bunny put into everything she did. She looked like your stereotypical gym rat; big and dumb. And yes, the demoness was rather large, and possessed a childlike joy about a great many things, but she was far from stupid.

He found himself thinking back to what Shiny had said his first day here. That he shouldn’t let his assumptions about the basic nature of angels and demons color the way he actually felt about them as people. And so far, the demons that he’d met were far better friends than the vast majority of angels he’d had the chance to talk to.

As Jake and Bunny were leaving the gym, they passed Raphael, who seemed to be about to get his workout time in. Jake waved and smiled, receiving a nod and a slight smile in return from the angel. Every time Raphael smiled at him, Jake considered it a personal victory.

“Wow, he noticed you.” Bunny said, and Jake realized he’d been watching the angel walk away. (It was just as good a view as watching him from the front, could you really blame him?)

“Yeah, ever since he moved into our dorm we’ve been talking more, it’s nice.”

“From what the brothers always told me, he never really talked to anyone that wasn’t them. And it seems pretty true, all told.”

“The brothers… you mean the ones in the Devildom who are all avatars of sins?”

“Yeah.” Bunny said, nodding. “They used to be angels. Avatars of virtues instead. That’s part of why I wanted to come up here for the exchange program - I wanted to see the environment that formed them, you know? Beelzebub and I could be twins, to look at us. I mean, he has his own twin in Belphegor, but… We’re still a lot alike. I’ve always been a demon, though. Maybe we were made at the same time, so we came out the same. I’ll never know, though. Too shy to ask him about it.”

Jake considered the idea of Bunny being shy, and it made him chuckle. “Well, maybe you’ll get to meet him because of the Exchange program? Maybe it will be him that talks to you instead.”

Bunny laughed. “That’d be the day.”

On the way back, they stopped to pick up lunch for themselves and also Aya. Bunny determinedly paid for Jake’s lunch, as a thank you for spotting for her.

#omswd #obey me shall we date #longfic #fic update #obey me!#obey me raphael #om celestial realm #celestial realm #om raphael #chapter fic #obey me OC

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