#oh man michael is down bad
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pumpkinfucks · 2 years ago
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send  [grind] : sender’s muse grinds on receiver’s thigh
there is no label for what gareth and michael have. they’re friends who started off as sort of enemies who have ended up being more than friends but not giving any label to what they are. michael knows gareth’s hellfire friends have begun questioning him a lot and teasing him and he thinks if he had any friends they’d bother him about it too. right now, they sit in gareth’s basement on his couch, some old horror movie playing in the background. michael loves horror movies but he wasn’t paying attention to it since the beginning— far too focused on gareth instead. seems the other boy had the same idea because movie night turned into gareth stroking michael through his pants turned into gareth on his lap, fingers in michael’s curls. he groans against the other’s lips and grabs his ass firmly, sighing shakily when he feels gareth begin to steadily grind against his thigh. “can i fuck you? please—“
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mariocki · 10 months ago
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Brannigan (1975)
"Well, if it was up to me, I'd get some men out thumping on the streets, passing out some 'e pluribus unum'. That's what ninety percent of police work is today."
"The murder rate in your country, I'm sure, gives ample testimony to your superior police methods."
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thebestsetter · 7 months ago
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I love it when my husband has a bad day.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I want to see him sad because things didn't go as planned during practice or that teammate of his was more annoying then usual. I just like the way he acts when he comes home to me after a bad day.
Some people shout and get angry. Other people isolate themselves to calm down after those (unavoidable) bad days. But not the man I promissed to love in sickness and health.
When he comes home, he doesn't say anything. He takes off his jacket and shoes as quick as possible and just throws himself at me. He then proceeds to nuzzle his head in my neck, still not saying a word, and, after he found the "perfect" position (which I know he did, cause he sighs and smiles when he does find it), he grabs my hand and puts it in hair, as if it's a silent plea for me to tangle my fingers through his locks and massage his scalp.
We spend hours like this. Just me and him bathing in each other's presence, without anything or anyone else to intervee. Sometimes, he even falls asleep, and I want to gush about how comfortable he is around me and yap about how cute he is while sleeping (even if he drools all over the bed most of the times). And then I concentrate on him and him only: his softened breath, his heart pace starting to slow down and those inconscious sounds he lets out when I caress the right spot.
I love to whisper to him about my day while passing my hand underneath his shirt, noticing the tension leaving his body and feeling each muscle he worked oh so hard to build. One time, I even joked about giving him a massage. He didn't deny it, so I think he wants one. He just doesn't know how to ask (we really need to work on this kind of communication).
I love my husband. And I love the domesticity and good moments his bad days provide: just me and him, showing our love for each other without needing to say anything.
ITOSHI RIN, ITOSHI SAE, Barou Shoei, Shidou Ryusei (hear me out on this one), Oliver Aiku, Michael Kaiser, Nagi Seishiro, Kunigami Rensuke, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Ushijima Wakatoshi, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, KOZUME KENMA, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji
~ A/N: This is heavly inspired by a reddit post I saw!! Apparently, the og post user is @ThrowawayEngland2022 on reddit. Make sure to follow them!!
Masterlist
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slasher-fxcker · 6 months ago
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Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time
Part 1
Including: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher & Vincent Sinclair.
Warnings: Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.
A/N: Okay this is my first post on here so any and all feedback is welcome! Also, there will be a part two, I will be including all the slashers I write for I just got a bit carried away and I thought it was a bit long for one part lol. Second part will include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire and Jesse Cromeans.
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Billy Loomis:
· This was meant to be an easy kill for Billy. Some geek that showed up at a party he shouldn’t have been at, Billy had been watching him for most of the night when he saw his target getting ready to leave. He started heading to the closet he hid his Ghostface costume in when someone crashed into him spilling their drink all down the front of his shirt.
· Billy was in two minds about whether he should give them a piece of his mind or ignore their apologies and sneak away anyway. But as he looked up whatever reply he had planned got caught in his throat. When he looked into your pleading eyes he could immediately tell how bad you felt. He didn’t realise he was staring until he noticed you were waiting for a response.
· He regains his composure and brushed off your apologies, telling you not to worry about it. You seemed relieved and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you looked around the room frantically. “Lost something?” he finally asks you, “Am I that obvious?” you laugh before holding your hand out, “I’m Y/N, Randy’s cousin.” Billy seemed to stare at your hand for a second before taking it in his and introducing himself. Maybe just this once he’d let the target go and find something worth enjoying.
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Bo Sinclair:
· Getting out of the beat-up truck Bo winced as he felt the pain in his arm of the wound that hadn’t fully healed just yet. Lightly holding the spot and remembering how one of the victims had cut him good with that knife. He sighed and shrugged the thought off before walking towards the dimly lit bar. Sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a beer.
· He soon becomes aware of a man groaning angrily at one of the nearby pool tables, “There aint no way you're winning again without cheatin’” he hears the man grumble. Bo’s fairly accustomed to the usual pool bets but what does surprise him is the feminine laugh he hears in response, he turns around to see you bent over the table lining up your next shot. He feels his throat dry up at the sight of the position you’re in and the teasing smirk that’s on your face.
· “Don’t be a sore loser Jimmy,” you laugh before sinking yet another ball into its socket. Bo can barely take his eyes off you as he leans back taking another sip of his beer. You and the man seem to go back and forth in arguing about the game, and he feels like he could watch you all night. The game is coming to an end with you clearly winning, before he even thinks about it Bo has downed the rest of his beer and is walking towards you. As you’re lining up your final shot Bo slams down a couple of bills on the side of the pool table, you look up at him and he flashed his signature grin at you, “I’ve got winner,” he says as he looks you up and down. You sink your last ball before turning back to him, “You’ve got it handsome,” she smirks. Oh, you were trouble, and Bo couldn’t wait to see how this night turned out.
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Jason Voorhees:
· It had been a quiet week for Jason, no campers, no teens, nothing. He had been out collecting wood for the fire when he found a small stone, he liked collecting bits and pieces from around the woods. Small knickknacks to decorate the shabby cabin he called home. The stone had five points and could be seen as almost the shape of a star, what Jason didn’t realise was he had spent far too long invested in the stone to notice someone walking on the trail nearby. The snapping of some sticks broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a figure nearby.
· Jason quickly shoved the stone in his pocket before walking silently to a spot where he could watch the trail without being spotted. He watched you from afar for a while, seeing you look around you as you made your way down the path. The way you watched the nature around you with a small smile on your face made Jason feel a warmth inside him. He followed you all the way to the camp grounds. You seem surprised to find the open space on your trip. You sat down on one of the stone seats before unpacking some lunch for yourself.
· It wasn’t long before you had gotten up and were walking around the small opening. It was then that Jason heard you speak for the first time which caused him to tense in fear. “Hey there little guy.” That was it, you must’ve seen him. He froze as you stepped towards his hiding spot only to stop a few feet in front of where he stood, where he thought he was hidden by the shrubs. But you weren’t looking at him to his relief, he saw the small squirrel perched on a branch that seemed to have your attention. He felt himself relax as he noticed this before trying to silently move further to the other side of the clearing.
· To his surprise the squirrel hadn’t run away, he must’ve smelt the food in your hand as he stood hesitantly sniffing the air. “You hungry?” you asked him rhetorically before holding out a small piece of crust for the squirrel and placing it on the branch near him. Jason watched and couldn’t help but melt at your kindness, he heard the familiar voice in his head but this time the voice was calm, telling him you needed protection, you needed him. But how was he supposed to approach you. A few minutes passed and you turned back to your seat, walking over you noticed something had now been placed where you once sat. You picked up the small stone, noticing it was shaped like a star. You looked around for someone before looking back at the stone, a small smile on your face. It warmed Jason’s heart as he prepared himself to find you more gifts.
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Lester Sinclair:
· Lester found himself almost zoning out as he drove down the all too familiar road, the predictability of the same turns and sights that he saw every day seeming to get on his nerves today. Until he noticed a car on the side of the road, he hated his part in this, he tried to just shut himself off from it and think of whoever the poor bastard was that wandered their way as just a stranger, a nobody with no identity. It helped that they were usually rude to him, at least that way he felt less remorse for them. He couldn’t see the person that was hidden under the hood, probably uselessly trying to figure out what was wrong with their car.
· “Looks like you could use a hand.” He didn’t expect the slight squeal from whoever was behind the hood before you walked out, “oh gosh you gave me a fright,” you giggled. Lester was trying to pick his jaw up off the floor and string a sentence together, you definitely weren’t the first young lady to come through these parts but he sure thought you were the prettiest. “Uh, sorry ma’am.” He gulped before wracking his brain for words, “I saw you stuck here and thought you could use a hand.” You sighed before closing the hood, “Unless you happen to have a fanbelt on you, I don’t think so,” He felt the slight dread creep up as he remembered the scenario, he hesitated before spilling his usual script about taking you to see Bo. Of course, you agreed, having no other option and climbing into his truck.
· Not long into the drive you spoke, “I’m Y/N by the way,” he nodded before realising you were waiting for a response, “Oh, I’m Lester,” he responded. “Lester,” you repeated with a smile, he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach when you repeated his name. “Well thank you very much Lester, I definitely owe you one for driving me all this way.” The more you spoke the worse he was starting to feel, you seemed kind, you were nice to him which was a welcome change, you laughed along with him instead of at him, you didn’t deserve the fate that you were walking into. As you neared Ambrose he realised he couldn’t let you die, he didn’t know how yet but he would do everything he could to keep Bo from hurting you. He knew life was going to be anything but predictable with you around
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Stu Macher:
· Stu groans when the bell rings, his least favourite subject and it was the first lesson of the day. “You coming Stu?” He looks at Randy as he seems to think it over, “Nah, we’ve got Evans, I don’t need another detention from that douche.” Randy just rolls his eyes as Stu starts walking in the opposite direction, he hears Randy grumble some smart-ass comment to himself as he walks away.
· Stu was about to turn towards the entrance when he heard you curse to yourself, he glanced at you before turning the corner. “Woah,” he stopped in his tracks before backing up back into the hallway and looking you over again. You must be new, he definitely would’ve remembered you if he had seen you before. You're too engrossed in the paper in your hands to notice someone coming up to you and leaning against the lockers. He puts on his cheesiest grin before getting your attention “Hey there,” you almost jump out of your skin as you drop your books.
· “Oh man I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stu apologises as he crouches down and begins to pick up your things, you join him in picking up your books, “No don’t be, I should’ve been paying more attention,” you give him a soft smile before standing back up as he passes you some of your belongings, “You must be new, haven’t seen you around here,” you just nod before continuing, “actually, i’m having some trouble finding my class,” he looks over the schedule you had been engrossed in. “Oh that’s actually where I’m headed, I can take you if you’d like,” he couldn’t help but smile at the way you beamed up at him as you agreed.
· The walk was filled with Stu making you laugh, as you neared the class he seemed to slow down and began talking to you again. “You know, I’d be happy to show you to your other classes if you need help finding them after this?” you agreed and he walked into the class with you. A big smile on his face even after being reprimanded by your teacher. “I thought you weren’t coming,” Randy whispers to him, “Yeah something changed my mind,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this class was worth showing up to.
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Vincent Sinclair:
· Vincent had been in the museum, positioning his newest artwork. He stared at it with a slight tilt of his head, questioning every stroke, every pose and every colour. He couldn’t help it, he knew he was good at what he did but insecurity still nagged at every decision he made. He was in his own world when the creak of the front door broke him out of his stupor. Bo had told him a small group of victims would be heading down to the museum while he worked on ‘finding’ a fan belt for them. Vincent was quick to move to his usual hiding spots to watch them.
· Vincent hated how loud this group was, joking and making fun of his art. “You have to be pretty sick to make any of this.” One of the guys spoke up, Vincent immediately started thinking of how he would hurt this man. It wasn’t until a softer voice spoke up that he noticed the girl trailing at the back of the group, “Come on guys, don’t be so rude. Someone must have put a lot of effort into these.” It was then that Vincent could finally make out your form, you seemed quiet even when speaking up for him, defending his work. Vincent wished he could get a better look at you. The man scoffed, “Okay art freak.” Vincent saw the way you practically flinched at the insult before turning away from the group to go and look at some other pieces.
· Vincent felt angry, the man would definitely suffer. He made his way closer to where you were, staying hidden as he watched you from afar. He could tell the insult had hurt you and this only made him angrier. You seemed to pause as you squinted closer to the art work on the wall, brushing some dust off the framing. “Vincent,” you read the signature to yourself with a small smile on your face, Vincent stilled when he heard you. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about hearing you say his name struck a chord in him. He was more than intrigued by you, he felt drawn to you in a way he had never felt before. He wasn’t sure what this meant but whatever it was he knew Bo wouldn’t like it.
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ode2rin · 9 months ago
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1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ
summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.
content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread
💭 masterlist | next part
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“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”
Your ears were ringing.
After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.
“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.
Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.
Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.
Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.
You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.
“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.
“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”
“We?”
“Kaiser is downstairs.”
Of course, he is. 
Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.
You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 
If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.
“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.
The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.
“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”
In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”
“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”
“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”
Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.
Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”
“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.
“Fuck off.” 
“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.
You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.
You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.
You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.
Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.
If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.
Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.
“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.
“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.
“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”
Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.
“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.
Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”
“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.
Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.
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It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.
Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.
Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.
But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.
“I swear to god this better be important–”
“Get ready,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Look out your window.”
Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.
Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.
“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.
You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.
It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.
It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.
“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”
He’s taking me to it? “Why?”
Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.
“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.
You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 
The first one today.
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Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.
But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.
You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.
And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.
“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.
Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?
“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”
Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.
Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.
“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”
“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 
Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.
Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.
It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.
You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”
Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”
Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 
“Call me by my name.”
“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”
“The one you used to call me.”
Mikka.
It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.
You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.
“I’m Michael.”
“That’s… long.”
“What?”
“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”
“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.
“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.
He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.
“Same thing.”
“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”
“Your point?” you countered.
“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.
“He was nice to me!”
“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”
You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.
“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.
Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.
“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”
“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.
“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”
“And you? Are you a gentleman?”
Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.
Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.
Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.
When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”
He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.
“Especially not one, doll.”
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“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.
Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.
The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 
Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.
Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.
He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.
“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.
The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.
“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 
From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.
After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.
You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.
Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.
As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).
“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.
“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.
“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”
Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”
You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.
But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.
“You should be flattered.”
Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”
“Accepted.”
If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.
At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 
You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”
The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”
“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”
“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.
If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.
Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.
Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.
“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”
If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.
You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.
Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”
“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 
“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”
You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”
“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.
Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.
You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.
“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.
“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 
“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.
Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.
You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.
“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.
Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 
Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 
Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 
And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.
But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 
If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.
Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.
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“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 
Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.
You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.
“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.
“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”
“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”
“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.
“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”
“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.
Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.
“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”
What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.
“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”
“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”
The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”
“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”
What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.
He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 
And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 
His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.
Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.
Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.
“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 
As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.
“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.
Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.
“Easy, doll.” 
Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.
Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.
Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”
The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.
Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 
Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.
He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.
Damn it, doll.
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Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.
Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.
The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.
It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.
Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.
It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 
The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 
What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?
Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.
Just then, a knock on the door startled you.
“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”
It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.
Shit.
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note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!
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lazycats-stuff · 1 month ago
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How about Batfam x male reader, where reader is Russian and has a slight accent, unless someone really pissed him off, that's when it really shows. Reader is always eloquent and kind, and you don't notice his accent unless you are really paying attention to the way he says certain words, but after a few galas where a fat businessman keeps insulting him somehow, and Damian or Jason are trying to defend Reader, but Reader just tells them no. When the fat businessman insults his brothers, Reader finally snaps and just goes full blown Michael Blackson Teacher style roast on him and his entire family in front of everyone, even his Russian accent comes out (I just think it would be funnier with the accent). After the gala is done, Bruce tries to scold the reader, but everyone is constantly trying to contain their laughter except Jason, as Reader finally snapping is the funniest thing that ever happened at a gala. Even Alfred can't bring himself to scold Reader for what he has done because he was there.
I know you are probably busy, so whenever you have the time for this one-shot. Thank you.
Oh hell yeah. Also, I couldn't find a GIF. I'm sorry...
Summary: (Y/N) is Russian and takes no disrespect.
Warnings: fat shaming? Only when (Y/N) was insulted.
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Bruce would say that all of his children are nice, but (Y/N) is an exception to a certain degree. He is nice, eloquent, kind and loves to help others. He's Russian, can speak Russian fluently and his accent is rather hidden. You can hear it come out in certain words, but other than that, it is rather hidden. And Bruce loves to listen to it. Especially when he is frustrated about something, or simply can't remember a word in English.
That's when the Russian actually comes out. Of course everyone will revert to their native language when frustrated, mad and everything else. It was something that was rather endearing. Cute even. Just some grumbling underneath his breath about something in Russian. (Y/N)'s brothers found it cute. And they started to pick up a few phrases of their own.
But not curse words, because Alfred doesn't want to hear any cursing in the manor. None. Not in English, Russian, Arabic or any other language. It doesn't matter if it's a dead language or a live one, because Alfred is going to lay down the law.
Even now, while there was a gala going on in the Manor, Bruce watched his sons carefully. Jason was evading it with everything in him, Tim was getting some food, Damian was his usual grouchy self, Dick was conversing with some people and so was (Y/N), using his eloquence to get his points across. Bruce smiled as he brought a glass up to his lips, sipping some champagne.
All was well.
For once.
Bruce was surprised, but wasn't going to complain or actually question why the universe has decided to bring peace upon the Wayne Manor. Peace was seemingly a rare thing in this Manor and Bruce was going to cherish it for the rest of the night. Actually, for as long as it lasts, Bruce will cherish it.
Oh, that peace wasn't going to last long.
At all.
As (Y/N) was talking to a woman about some charities, a big, fat businessman approached. Sure, it's not nice to call someone fat, but, if someone's stomach is spilling over the pants, then it's just a fair game. Bruce watched from afar, just observing the room.
He raised his brow when he saw (Y/N) frowning, clearly mad about something. Bruce could make out a few words and one of them struck a nerve. Commie, or short for communist. (Y/N) never liked that. Never. Just because Russia was a communist country, that doesn't make him bad. And how the hell is that an insult?
(Y/N) shot right back, calling him a capitalist for not caring about his workers, which were the more prevalent rumors in the high society. Bruce watched, wondering how it will unfold. But then it hit him. This was the man that (Y/N) had problems with for the last few galas. (Y/N) always remained polite, but Bruce knew that it would rile him up and upset him.
Damian and Jason noticed and both have jumped to his defense, defending him with polite and tense smiles. But the businessman wasn't letting up. At all. Being this relentless in insulting was rather... Weird. Bruce kept watching, ready to step in the moment it gets too tense or it escalates.
And (Y/N) had a rule. It was, insult him all you want, but insult his brothers? He will retaliate. Tenfold.
And that's where the fat man opened the door for him to retaliate. The moment that the man insulted Damian's Arabic heritage and Jason's life on the streets before adoption, (Y/N) was absolutely fuming and has decided to go onto the offensive.
He hurled insults onto the man, but one that made Bruce nearly lose his mind was, and he quotes this, " You are one sandwich away from a heart attack. " And (Y/N) wasn't done, far from done. Firstly, the Russian accent came out during all of this and he wasn't letting up. Since the family of the fat businessman joined, (Y/N) was not battling on two different fronts.
And he wasn't holding back.
At all.
Jason and Damian were trying to keep straight faces but it's not easy.
Bruce had no doubt that Jason would later say that the insults are a work of art.
The gala was now over and everyone was sitting in the kitchen, munching on the leftover food. Alfred was standing there, watching (Y/N), knowing what had went down in the ballroom. Bruce was supposed to scold him. Maybe ground him, perhaps. Take away certain things?
But then again, he was defending himself. The man insulted him first so... Well...
So Bruce was going to try to scold (Y/N). He has to. And that was difficult when everyone around them was trying not to laugh so hard. Even Alfred. Seeing (Y/N) snap, when he was normally kind and calm. And with a Russian accent too. It was all too much for Jason who was laughing his ass off the entire time whole Bruce was trying to scold the reader.
" You know what, I won't scold you, " Bruce declared, making Jason cry from laughter.
" (Y/N) snapping is the best thing that has ever happened at a gala. Ever. EVER, " Jason wheezed out, slapping his knee.
Alfred tried not to break, because he was supposed to be a serious one, but Alfred couldn't even hold it together. He was about to break. Should (Y/N) be scolded? Yes. However, he didn't start the insulting, the man did... Alfred tried to keep it together. He did.
And he was going to keep it together.
So, to conclude the evening, in the history of galas, (Y/N) has put his mark in it.
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shuaasumii · 3 months ago
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“Cockroach”
ʚ pairing: mingyu x fem!reader
ʚ genre: crack, fluff
ʚ warnings: mentions of a cockroach and michael myers
ʚ summary: turns out your boyfriend mingyu, is afraid of tiny insects.
ʚ a/n: pictures below are from pinterest!
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you were busy catching up on the latest episode of your favorite tv show when all of a sudden you heard a shriek coming from your bedroom. when you rush to stand up to investigate, your boyfriend, mingyu sprints through the door of your shared bedroom. the 6’2 man rushes to your side hiding behind you as if he was being chased by michael myers.
“y/n help me please please help me,” mingyu rambles. concerned, you ask mingyu what’s wrong.
“there’s a big- no a MASSIVE cockroach in there,” he tells you.
you chuckle, “mingyu there is no way you, a six foot tall man is afraid of a small bug.”
gyu looks at you like you’re crazy before pushing you into the room that apparently holds the most massive cockroach ever according to your boyfriend. you look around for the insect struggling to find it.
“where babe?” you look at him. he points to a corner in your room. you step closer to inspect, and spot roach about the size of a carrot slice. it was hideous you must admit, but it sure wasn’t something to be frightened of.
“oh my god gyu it’s not even that big” you say, “go get me one of those red solo cups and a piece of paper,” you order. he stares at the roach for another second before rushing out of the room to get your supplies.
the man comes running back into the room with your requested cup and paper. the insect had actually moved to another spot in the room which just so happened to be right next to where mingyu had just stepped in.
“babe, um don’t panic- but uh the thing is near your foot,” you awkwardly told him. he looks down and lets out an ear piercing scream. you were definitely not aware your man could let out a sound so loud.
he runs to jump on top of the bed screaming, “GET IT PLEASE, GET IT PLEASE!” you laugh before carefully taking the items out of his hands.
mingyu watches you intently as you capture the bug inside the red cup. you then slide the piece of paper under the cup. after successfully catching the cockroach, you casually walk outside and let it out.
“see gyu? it wasn’t that bad” you tell him.
“no, oh no it was that bad” he hops off the bed and embraces you in one of his big bear hugs. “thank you for saving my life baby.”
you lift you head to look at gyu and send him an ‘are you serious’ look. you playfully roll your eyes and say, “you’re so welcome.”
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retroaria · 5 months ago
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Blue Lock: kisses ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
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summary: kissing the blue lock boys!
~~~Isagi/Bachira/Nagi/Rin/Kaiser~~~
BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 💋 - aria
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ᡣ𐭩 Isagi Yoichi ᡣ𐭩
Isagi’s favorite place to kiss you is your cheek! He isn’t the most spontaneous boyfriend but you’ll never know when he’s gonna lean over and give you a quick, gentle kiss on the cheek
His kisses are perfect, almost calculated. He moves in perfect sync with you like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. He draws them out unintentionally, he’s mindlessly greedy about it. He draws them out longer than either of you intended and doesn’t feel bad about it once you’ve pulled apart.
ᡣ𐭩 Bachira Meguru ᡣ𐭩
Bachira’s favorite place to kiss you is anywhere! He’s the kiss bandit, what can I say. His lips meet your skin time and time again all throughout the day each time catching you just as off guard as the last and he loves it. The flustered look on your face when you feel him creep up behind and kiss your shoulder, to your neck, then your cheek. When he lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles, he can’t just stop there, he has to kiss all the way up your arm until he reaches your lips. When he lays in your lap he plants sloppy kisses to your thighs, when he hugs you he’ll kiss the back of your head and behind your ear. ANYWHERE!!!
His kisses are sweet and giddy. He’s almost always smiling into the kiss just a little bit. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages, his hands cupping your face and his lips eager against yours.
ᡣ𐭩 Nagi Seishiro ᡣ𐭩
Nagi’s favorite place to kiss you is the top of your head! Chances are, you’re shorter than this guy, and it’s just super easy for him to do. All he has to do is lean down a little and place a soft kiss to your head. He thinks it’s really cute when he does it, like he thinks to himself, “Oh, I bet they think that’s really cute.” Such a silly guy.
His kisses are lazy and passive. He literally just trusts the process and it works every time because his kisses feel like so nice and loving. Truly the only thing he brings to the table other than moving his mouth aimlessly against yours is that he’s doing it with love. Will follow the flow you set and stick to it.
ᡣ𐭩 Rin Itoshi ᡣ𐭩
Rin’s favorite place to kiss you is your forehead! He likes forehead kisses because they’re gentle and endearing. He likes giving and receiving them, so make sure you give him some back! He’ll run his fingers through your hair before resting his palm on the back of your head and tilting it slightly so he can plant a sweet kiss to your forehead.
His kisses are thoughtful, he makes them count. Every kiss that Rin gives you is fully intentional and sincere. When he kisses you he wants you to be in that short moment with him and just enjoy it the way he is. They’re always accompanied by a content release of air from his nose once his lips finally meet yours. He’s so glad he can just do this whenever he wants to and it makes him feel better about everything instantly.
ᡣ𐭩 Michael Kaiser ᡣ𐭩
Michael’s favorite place to kiss you is your hand! You are literally the light of this man’s life and he views you with the highest of revere. You get royal treatment from him. He also gets a kick out of seeing your flustered face at his dramatic displays of affection, taking your hand in his, placing his lips to it lovingly while maintaining gentle eye contact with you. He does this unconsciously sometimes which is very sweet but he likes to make it an intimate moment.
His kisses are deep and passionate. Kaiser kisses you like it might be the last time he ever does, every time. His logic is, if he’s going to be that close to you, he should be as close as possible. And so every kiss with him is full of love and yearning, until pulling apart feels almost blasphemous.
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Sorry this is so short :( I worked 10 hours today and I’m literally so tired but I still wanted to post at least once (although now that I’m in the groove I may post my sae nsfw alphabet today Idk we’ll see if not then definitely tomorrow) ok byeeee stay safe much love ❤️ -aria
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kakujis · 2 years ago
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do you love me?;
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tokrev ver.
synopsis: you/they wake them/you up at 3am.
ft + wc: isagi yoichi, michael kaiser, oliver aiku. around 2k
warnings: gn!reader, no set timelines, pet names, situationship (oliver) extremely! soft! oliver!!, slightly angsty (oliver), slight jealousy (kaiser), kaiser's is suggestive, none really for isagi! aaand that should be it!
a/n: i finally finished something!! i've been in such a rut not only with writing but with reading. TnT. hopefully i can write more once my semester is finished! anyways, i wrote oliver's in basically one sitting kicking my feet n screaming. also ily to zen cus i dropped like the entire fic in their dms LMFAOO. and ily to su for proofreading for me!! hope u enjoy ♡.
ETA: DO NOT TRANSLATE OR SHARE ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM. THANK YOU.
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isagi:
you always saw the twinkle in isagi yoichi’s eyes when he talked about soccer. it was cute, charming, and part of what attracted you to him. when the two of you finally started dating, soccer was very much a part of your lives. you’d pop in at practice whenever you could and much to his delight, you’d even try to learn about his idols and the game. 
when you studied it on your own, it was fine, you could go at your own pace. but when isagi was there, it was a little different. he always had so much to say, so many techniques and teams to go over. he was like a walking soccer encyclopedia and you appreciated it, even when it got a little overwhelming. 
but tonight, as he talked your ear off about noel noa for the nth time, you found yourself dozing off. the black haired striker’s eyes were glued to the match he was playing on the tv, every so often rewinding or slowing down a play to explain it. you tried your best, really, to stay awake but it was nearing 3am and soon enough yoichi was speaking to himself. 
“man, that was sick!” he exclaims. he’s about to ask your opinion when he finally looks back to see your head in your arms, asleep. “…oh.” 
he rouses you out of sleep, shaking your shoulder gently. when you awaken you’re met with his pouting face. you blink off the drowsiness, rubbing your eyes. “sorry i dozed off…” you reach for the remote, but he stops you. “yoichi?” 
“do you love me?” you’re caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze. 
you nod, “of course i do.” 
“say it.” it’s not uncharacteristic for him to be intense at times, but the glint in his eye is something you usually only see when he’s playing. you didn’t think you’d see it now and it’s a bit amusing. 
“i love you, yoichi.” you say, a smug grin on your face as you poke at his pouty cheeks. “aww, are you upset?” 
snapping out of it, he waves your hand away, slightly turning while his cheeks blush bright red. “…no.” 
“my baby,” you coo, continuing to reach over and squish his cheeks, “i’m sorry for falling asleep, yoi.”
“it’s okay…” he mumbles, enjoying the attention, “i didn’t realize you were so sleepy.” 
“well, it is 3am…” you giggle, pointing to his alarm clock. 
it’s cute how fast his head whips around to look. “oh… my bad.” he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 
“don’t worry about it,” you shrug, before getting up and pulling at his hands. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?” 
but isagi pauses, conflicted, before glancing back at the tv. “… just one more play?” 
“yoichi!” you whine, the idea of cuddling with your boyfriend in bed being extremely appealing. 
“please?” he pleads, hands clasped, and you sigh, giving in to his doe eyes. 
“fine. one more. that’s it and then we’re going to bed.” you say, settling down next to him. but if you’re being honest, you’re never immune to isagi yoichi.
the light in his eyes as he rambles and talks to you about his favorite thing always overwhelms anything else. you love him, wholly and fully. and maybe that’s why you don’t mention anything as one play turns to two, which then turns into the entire match. not a single word escapes you as he loads up the next game, telling you “this next one is insane.” 
it’s isagi’s turn to fall asleep and as the sun peeks over the horizon, you press a peck to his cheek as you wrap a blanket over his shoulders. 
“good night, yoichi.” 
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kaiser:
michael kaiser was many things, first and foremost a soccer player, secondly, a striker with a god complex and most importantly, your boyfriend. well, perhaps most important to you and although you’re mostly able to cast aside that doubt to love him fully, there are still moments when you just have to hear it. 
it’s 3am and kaiser’s in deep sleep, evident by the subtle snores coming from him. in contrast, you’re fully awake and sitting next to him, one finger trailing the expanse of his skin, from the curve of his cheek to the line of his jaw. he stirs slightly, but nonetheless stays asleep and that annoys you. 
“michael,” you whine, prodding at his cheek, “do you love me?” his eyelids flutter, face contorting to the singsong of your voice. 
“huh?” he responds, eyes opening and brows furrowing into a scowl you continue to prod. he grabs your hand, pulling it away from him. “what is it?” 
“do you love me?” you repeat, happily humming at his pretty face. 
he tsks before grumbling out a “nein.” he huffs before turning over. 
you pause, before scowling yourself. “what did you just say?” 
“nein.” he reiterates, closing his eyes. “goodnight.” 
you scoff, before shaking him again. “hey… seriously!” but it’s useless. kaiser’s decided it’s time for bed. truth be told, you should probably get some sleep too. but it’s annoying when you do feel like a side character in his story and not his co-lead. fine, you can be petty too. 
you round up your pillows, sighing and making sure to climb over him as you get off the bed. he catches your wrist as you try to leave, brow arched. 
“where are you going?” he asks, confused.
“the couch.” you deadpan. 
“why?” 
“i don’t wanna sleep next to someone who doesn’t love me.” you pout, hugging your pillow tightly. 
“it was a joke, liebe.” he sighs, pulling you down back into bed. “of course, i love you.” 
“hmm… you’re just pacifying me.” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and finally give you some of the affection you’ve been craving. 
and he does, rolling his eyes before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he makes sure to give you a few more afterwards, your giggle floating around his ears. “happy now?” 
“very.” you smile and he smiles back, but you can’t let him think he’s won just yet. “hey, i have a joke too.” 
“yeah? and you think it’s better than mine?” he teases and you grin even wider, nodding excitedly. “i’m all ears.” 
“okay. make sure you listen and like, really listen.” you command and he nods, moving his ear closer to your lips. “you’re a better player than isagi yoichi.” 
his face falls immediately and you burst out laughing, pushing off of him and grabbing your pillow again. you figure after your little stint, you’ll seriously be sleeping on the couch. 
“super funny, right? i should be a comedian.” you muse, before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “good night, emperor.” 
you turn to leave again, but kaiser’s quick to pull you down and underneath him. you yelp as he straddles you, pinning your wrists above your head. he’s frighteningly close, the tips of his blonde and blue hair hovering over your skin. 
there’s one thing about him that you don't know and it’s that he’ll never admit how soft you make him, how it’s actually he who melts at the sound of your voice. how it’s him who wants to hear nothing but endless praise from you, so maybe he did get a little mad at that joke.
“m-michael?” you squeak, squirming under his hold, “what are you doing?” 
“what do you mean? i’ve gotta remind you who the best striker in the world is.” he states and you recognize that look in his eyes. you didn’t think it’d rile him up this much. 
“babe, it was a joke!” 
he barks a laugh as you squirm harder underneath him. “it’s gonna be a long night, liebe.” 
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oliver: 
“hey oliver, do you love me?” 
perhaps not the best time to ask, neon bright 3:00 AM displayed on your alarm clock lets you know that. but still, the beating of oliver aiku’s heart that drums through your ears prompts you to ask anyway. 
he’s asleep, or so you think, and shirtless, with the press of your cheek against his chest, his skin feels warm. shyly, you stay looking at the wall, sometimes trailing down to his limp hand. meanwhile, your fingers ghost over his skin, writing little “i love you”s and infinity signs like an incantation or a spell. 
“dumb question,” you continue, “i know you don’t.” you give a small smile, it’s how the situation between you two works. you can sleep together, hold hands, maybe even call each other ‘partners’, but you never breach that threshold. he’s always just out of reach.
but oliver is awake, eyes stirred open by the figure eights you’ve been writing on him. he’s been listening to you the entire time, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. 
“well… in case you were wondering, i think i love you,” you confess, your heart thumping wildly, “like a lot, actually. do you…  think i’m stupid?” you pause, before opening your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to answer, but oliver cuts you off. 
“not really.” he says, the hand that was resting on your waist, starting to stroke your skin. 
you freeze before pushing yourself up and off of him. “hey! h-how long have you been awake?” 
he smirks and you hate the way your heart flutters, “a while,” he sits up, “hey, i love myself too.” 
you deflate a little, it’s too much of the same, the same jokes and the brushing off of feelings. but you should know this by now, that he doesn’t love you. “yeah, just not me.” you look away, wishing he would lie to you just one time. “i should go-“ 
he reaches over, grabbing your chin between his fingers and leveling your gazes together. “i never said that.” 
you blink, wide-eyed and you’re not sure what to do or even what to say. and while you’re sure your heart is beating so fast you swear he can hear it, you’re also emboldened, mustering up the courage to ask, “never said what?” but your voice comes out small, whispery and featherlight. 
“that i don’t love you.” he says. he doesn’t break eye-contact, pretty two-tone eyes locked on yours. 
you can’t help your emotions, the way they swell up in you overwhelmingly, as if you’re drowning in them. 
“do you love me, oliver?” you’re too happy to be embarrassed by the break in your voice when you say his name, too fixated on the way he touches you so gently. it’s like he can’t hurt you now, no matter what he’s done before. 
he nods, the hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek as he strokes his thumb reassuringly over your skin. he catches the tears that fall, thinking that it’s much better to see you happy cry than when he does something stupid. 
“could you say it? please?” you sniffle, placing a hand over his, keening into his touch. 
he gives a breathy laugh out of nervousness, before he clears his throat and says it, loud and clear. “i love you, y/n.” 
you laugh through your tears, relieved, because all the time you spent wondering was okay and the wait was worth it. the way it rolls off his tongue is so natural and so warm it has your head spinning. 
he brings up his other hand, wiping away at the tears that continue to fall. “c’mon baby, you’re gonna cry all night?” he teases, squishing your cheeks between his hands. 
“‘m not dreaming?” you mumble, shaking your head, “this is real? you really love me?” 
maybe when you wake up in the morning it’ll be different. maybe he’ll be back to the same old oliver, the one who deflects and dodges all your questions. so maybe it is a dream. but, if this is a dream… do they always feel so good? and is it possible to stay asleep? 
he hums, before asking, “does this feel real?” as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. it’s sincere and authentic, the kind that makes your heart bloom. he pulls away, but only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. you nod and he grins, “good.”
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gojoscinnamonroll · 4 months ago
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“how fun it’s going to be to fuck rip your insides out”
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whatever you do… don’t fuck the psycho killer!!!
warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni, slight knife play, INO AS GHOSTFACE MHMM :3 (takuma girlies this one is for u mwahh), ino x fem reader , oral + unprotected , fingering, stalking , pet names , use of y/n , everything is consented btw
word count: 1.6k
a/n: fun fact this fic was based on a dream i had the other night LOL freak
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
you were cozied up in your bedroom of the apartment that you shared with your best friend, utahime, alone one night watching horror movies (like a psychopath :D ) because she had left to go to a halloween party that one of her boyfriend’s frat friends was throwing.
“are you sure you don’t want to come y/n? i’ll feel bad just leaving you here, especially with that rumor of that ghostface slasher guy going around… you’ll probably be safer with us, y’know?” your bestie asked out of concern.
“yes ‘hime, ill be fine don’t worry!!! plus i know im going to be all awk since i won’t really know anyone but you” you reassured her. “okay well, just text me if you need anything, and if you want me to stop by for food on the way back just let me know ‘kay!! be safe please and lock the doors when i leave” she said as she gave you a tight hug.
“okay! bye! have fun!! but not too much fun if you catch my drift” you teased as you stood behind the door, “oh hush” utahime laughed as she walked away and met up with her boyfriend down the stairs. you closed the door (forgetting to lock the door because you swore that you heard the click but it was just in your imagination) and walked back to your room to start your michael myers movie marathon which got you to the situation you were in now.
little did you know that this rumored “ghostface” was actually plotting on you next, as he had seen you around campus and thought that you were the most beautiful thing to walk this earth but he didn’t know how he was going to approach you, so he decided to do it the only way he knew how. and lucky for him the door you thought was locked was calling for him, inviting him inside. you were too focused in on your movies, that you didn’t hear the sounds of him coming in and let alone hear him standing outside your bedroom door.
you were about to pop another brownie into your mouth when this mr. ghostface decided to come up behind you and place his hand over your mouth to muffle your shocked screams. you wanted to turn your head to see who it was but this mysterious masked man had a tight grip on you that it was almost impossible for you to turn around and catch a peek. “what’s the matter y/n, you look like you seen a ghost” coyly said from the man behind the mask
wait a sec… why does his voice seem so familiar.. and how does he know my name..?
“if you keep quiet and won’t tell anyone you seen me tonight, i won’t cut your pretty head off and keep it for myself, yeah?” you muffled a “mhm” and he delicately (which is ironic for a psycho killer) removed his hand from your mouth. “so… you got a boyfriend?” he inquired, you shook your head no, in fear of what he’ll do if you speak. “good.. because you don’t know how much i been thinking about this moment y/n. it’s been hard seeing you walk around campus knowing your not mine.” he whispered in your ear as one hand slips down to the waistband of your ghost covered boyshorts and the other down to your right breast in your cropped black tank top.
“someone’s nice and wet for someone who should be scared of the fact that the psycho killer is in their bedroom right now huh” he mocked you in your ear as he plunged two fingers inside of you and you let out a whimper. “cum for me baby and maybe ill let you see who i am”. he was scissoring in and out of you so good that you just couldn’t help but chase your release as you rode his fingers.
what am i thinking?? i just came on a stranger’s fingers?? let alone THE ghost face killer’s fingers??
“eager to know who i am, hmm?” he said as he released his fingers from inside you and up under his mask to get a taste of you. “greedy girl… i’m sorry.. but im not done with you just yet, i wanna hear you scream” as he flips you over and lays you on your back, he pulls your shorts down to reveal that (scary!!!) you aren’t wearing any panties? you can feel the flush of embarrassment rising in your face but all you hear from him is low groan and seeing him lift the mask up (just a teeny bit, exposing everything under the tip of his nose)
“wow your pussy is just as pretty as you, i need to taste more of it too” he starts kitten licking at your clit to get a taste then like the sicko he is, something ignites in him that make him start devouring you. you can’t help the whimpers that come out of you as he starts eating you like a man who hasn’t had a meal in 5 months. he then brings the same 2 fingers that were in you previously back into you as he starts sucking on your clit. you feel your second orgasm of the night building up, “gonna cum baby? good job, you’re doing amazing , i got one more thing for you then you can see who i am” you see a little smirk peek out from under his mask; you can’t help but wonder why does this dude look and seem so familiar? you had a feeling it was that cute, laidback guy from your algebra course, ino takuma. but you could also be wrong and its also wrong that you were about to cum on this strangers fingers + mouth for the second time thinking about another guy like a whore.
“good girl, but i’m going to need you scream on this cock, m’kay?” he pulls down the black sweatpants that he had on revealing the hard on he had hidden in his boxers and his rock hard abs showing from underneath his sweatshirt. fuck, you didn’t know who was more sicker in the head, this stranger that just broke in and is now about to fuck you or the fact you are drooling over his long, skinny, and hard cock staring back at you. either way, you just wanted him to relieve the need you had built up. with his mask still a little lifted, he started giving light pecks on your neck and on your chest as he was rolling his hips into you, leaving your arousal smearing all over the front of his boxers.
“f-fuck me… please” you mumbled under your breath.
“what was that doll? you said you want me to…” he paused as he let his length spring out as he freed it from his boxers, “to fuck you?” he pumped it a few times as he watched you practically beg for him with your cute, big, pleading eyes, “please” you whimpered as you look up at him. and he was wasting nooooo time because like i said before, he was waaaitinggg for this moment ever since he’s laid eyes on you. he won’t admit it but the amount of times he’s fisted himself to you, is a shameful amount but even he can’t believe it himself right now in this moment that his dream was about to come true.
he let out a low growl as he bottoms out inside of you, feeling you clench and gasp around him as you struggle to take him whole, he was fighting the urge not to finish already because goodness gracious did you feel ten times way better than his hand. “you’re such a good girl, you know that right… taking it so good, letting a psycho killer fuck you like the whore you are” he then remembered that he had his prop knife with him, not the real one but its close to it, because he didn’t want to hurt his beautiful girl, and pulled it out to hold it gently against your neck while still pounding you into your pink mattress. “just think baby, how fun this is going to be when i fuck your guts out, yeah?” deep down you knew you had some kinks, but whoever this stranger is, he just unleashed a kink you never knew you had because you couldn’t help the sounds that rolled out of your mouth as he kept hitting that sweet spot in you while holding his signature weapon to your throat.
and its like somehow he knew what you were about to ask because he took off his mask and you were shocked to see that this stranger who was deep inside of you, messy brown hair down, sweat running down his jawline, and breathless ,was indeed who you had a feeling about before. the man you caught yourself drooling over in algebra class many times was the ghostface slasher that was pounding into you at this very moment. you felt your orgasm coming, and coming hard all over his length and at the same time you can feel his coming too. “g’nna cum all over this cock aren’t you pretty girl? go ‘head, it’s all yours ma. you’re going to make me cum all inside of you too” he moaned in your ear as he shot long and warm ropes of his seed into you as he collapsed on top of your warm, fucked out body.
you couldn’t help but play with his hair a little bit as you mumbled “ino… is that you..” he was shocked that you even knew his name but he gave you a kiss to your cheek to confirm that yes, it was him. “did i scare ya?” he giggled. “let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”
now… if utahime comes home to see you like this when she checks in on you, what the heck were you going to tell her when she sees you cuddled up with this psycho killer…
⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹
SORRY GUYS FOR THE RUSHED ENDING don’t hate me pls 😔
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isaisliterallyhim · 1 month ago
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" surprise ! "
ft. michael kaiser . probably ooc kaiser . fem reader . drabble . bday boyyy . surprises . fluff ? <3
once again, bumhole english pls spare me😕💔 zero to no proofreading
wc: 305
being the man he is, kaiser hated surprises as he never knew how to react.
imagine how he felt when he left the training fields, hoping for your text just to not receive one. huh. what could his beloved girl be doing? on a cold, snowy winter night?
the bright lights illuminated the streets as it reminded him that it was christmas day. walking. walking. and walking. he finally made it to the apartment. he checked the phone, hoping for a reply from you. nothing. kaiser was slightly disappointed.
fumbling for the keys he wondered, why aren't the lights on.? as he unlocked the door he was greeted by a dark scene and silence in front of him. it hurt him a little, reminding him of how it was before.
"meine liebe?" kaiser called out. flipping on the light switch, he was caught by surprise. right before him was his dear [name] with the most gorgeous grin plastered on her face. in her hands, she was holding a freshly baked birthday cake. in addition, bread crust rusks on the counter?! GIFTS AS WELL?!
"scheiße, [name]," kaiser muttered, unable to react. god this man felt TEARS welling up in his eyes. AFTER PRACTICE TOO? you placed the cake down. running towards him, you jumped on him. in return, he embraced you into a hug.
"happy birthday, mihya!" you giggled sweetly into his ear, placing a feathery kiss on his cheek. he could cry. he could actually begin bawling his eyes right now. a single tear drop slid down his cheek.
"ich liebe dich auch, [name]," he whispered back. "extra ass. can't you say it back in engl-" he shut you up immediately, embracing you tighter. kaiser wondered what he did to have such an angel love him. maybe surprises aren't so bad after all with you.
— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2024
notes!
AHHH, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MIDFIELDERRR. oh my geezer weezers, my babygirl kaiser warming up to surprises?! 😱😱 god i love this man sm ill cry. again sorry for the butt plummeting english.. ya girls trying. and sorry for the really bad plot idk how to write fluff plus, 3am drabble 😔💔
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gothic-thoughts · 3 months ago
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Pinky Promise
Ghostface x Black Fem Reader Drabble
Bimbo!Reader
CW: peeps named Emma caught a crazy stray im sorry 😭
TW: murder mention
Word Count: 952 (give or take)
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After waking up at 2 am, you drag your groggy body out of bed, wrap a little blanket around yourself, and slip on your slippers, preparing for the cold air in the hallway. As soon as you open your room door, your phone rings, the sound of your favorite song muffled by the blankets. Confused, you walk back to the bed and rummage through your comforter until your phone falls onto your mattress with a soft thud. The screen was lit up, showing ‘Unknown Caller’ on the screen to which you tilt your empty head and pick it up.
“Uh, hello?”
“Well hello there, pretty girl~”
You chuckle, immediately flattered by the man’s tone and compliment: “Um, hi...? Who is this?”
“You have such a pretty voice over the phone, (Y/n). Sounds sexier than I expected.”
You pause, freezing your steps in the hallway, “Wha- I... wait, how’d you know my name?”
“Oh, I know a lot of things, baby.”
“Really?”
“You may not see me but I see everything.”
“Oh, like a god?”
The man chuckled, mocking your stupidity, “In a way, yes. And you know what, gorgeous?”
“What?”
“Since you asked me how I knew your name, that means you’re not as dumb a bitch as Emma said you were.”
You gasp softly, “She said that?”
“That and more. Your girl Emma gave me an earful; going on and on about how ‘all you do is be pretty’ and that ‘you've got nothing going on’.”
“She... wouldn’t say that—”
“You were nothing but a stupid bimbo to her. She may be right, but the least she could do was say it to your face, don'tcha think?”
“Well, I mean...”
“Emma isn't a very nice person, is she?”
“No, I mean, yes! She’s my best friend!”
He chuckled into the phone, loving how much he was frazzling your singular brain cell with rapid-fire information as you made your way into your kitchen, giving him a better view of you.
“Is she now? I think she was pretty fucking messy, in more ways than one.”
Your grip on the blanket around you tightens, “What do you mean?”
“Well I’m only calling you as per her recommendation, sweet cheeks. She thought she could trade her life for yours, but I quickly informed her that’s not how I roll. And believe me, she had a lot more to say before I split her open tits to thighs.”
You freeze in the middle of the kitchen, jaw-dropping as you lose your breath, your eyes stinging with tears. He chuckles at your faltering breaths while you rack your small brain for why else he could be calling. Your hand trembles against the phone as you frantically look around your kitchen, hoping to find an obvious camera before deciding to close the kitchen curtains.
“Mm, so there are neurons firing in that skull.” He laughs, watching you panic on his monitors, “Do you know why I’m calling?”
“To.... to kill me too...?” The words leaving your mouth make a tear roll down your cheek.
“Now why would I do that, pretty girl?”
“I don't know!” The stress and confusion make you burst into tears. “I swear I don’t know, just please don't hurt me.”
“Aw, there's no need to cry, beautiful, I just want to ask you something.”
“What, that’s all?”
“Mhm; I just want you to tell me what your favorite scary movie is.”
“What? I-I-I—”
The man sighs. “Come on, you don’t need brains for this, baby, this is easy. What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Um, Halloween... t-the Rob Zombie one.”
“That's a remake, you know.”
“Y-yeah, I rewatch it all the time.”
“Interesting. What do you like about it?”
“Um, Michael's backstory makes you feel bad for him and then I like his long hair when he's older.”
The man chuckles in your ear, “So you like big guys with long hair huh? You like masks too?”
“I guess, maybe, I don’t know...”
“So, let's say a handsome guy with long hair walks into your room wearing a mask: what would you think?”
“How would I know he's handsome if he's wearing a mask?”
“You'd ask him to remove it?”
“I guess I'd want to know what he looks like.”
“Mm, so you don’t like masks, that’s a shame."
"N-no, please, I do! I do, I do!"
"Save it. So if it was me, in your house, looking for you, all big and tall like Michael: how would you feel about that?”
You whimper, thinking he meant he was already in your home, lurking. “I'd be scared.”
He smirked. “Why’s that, sweetheart? I thought that was your type; I've been a nice enough guy, haven’t I?”
“But you... You killed my friend...”
“She who didn't like you, and since she got what was coming to her, why are you scared?"
“I-I don't know. Uh w-why else would you be calling me if you weren't gonna... gonna—”
“What you're feeling right now is nothing compared to what I do to people I hate."
"Y-you... You mean--"
"You're safe with me, baby. All you gotta do is not call the cops.”
You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, choking up sobs. “You promise?”
“I promise, you wanna know why?”
You take a deep, shaky breath to try and compose yourself, “Why?”
“I like you, (Y/n). I love how fucking clueless you are— so interesting for someone without a single thought in their head. I never know what you're gonna say next. You keep me engaged— entertained: I like that.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. And that voice? That body? Ugh, you have no idea the things I'd do for you. You're helpless, and you're mine now. I’m gonna call you every night just to hear you speak, ya hear me?”
“Okay... Okay, if it means you won’t hurt me, I guess...”
“I already promised, didn’t I? You don’t have to worry that pretty little head about that. All you gotta do is keep me on the line.”
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(a/n): wrote abt ghostface, still managed to make it abt Michael 😩😩 how I even 😭
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lixxen · 1 year ago
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While I'm talking about DPxDC that isn't BatFam, I think Lucifer Morningstar would absolutely vibe with Danny
Danny would think Lucifer is a fruit loop like Vlad, but this dude isn't trying to actively kill him and oh look he's giving Danny little treats!! What a cool dude!!
Ghost Zone would be like limbo, which is why it isn't hell. Lucifer actually put the Ghost King in charge of the Zone to make sure limbo could run seperately (and to piss off his dad). So when Lucifer finds out some 13 year old half dead kid is king, he gets curious. He goes to Azrael and finds out that she couldn't take his soul. She felt bad so she turned him into a half ghost.
Lucifer is a bit upset and wonders why The Big Man hasn't fixed it yet, but just let's it go. Azrael admits she didn't expect him to become Ghost King. Sides, Michael didn't kill him when he was playing as Lucifer!! That's a plus!!
Lucifer introduces himself to Danny, who almost has a heart attack. The two get along somewhat well and Lucifer starts to look after Danny for a bit. He absolutely adores him and eventually Dan (Lucifer's Dan, not dark Dan) ends up being sent to the Zone so Danny could keep track of him. Dan and Danny bicker like no tomorrow. Dan doesn't understand why he's with some kid but eventually calms down when he realizes Danny isn't some immortal who just looks 13.
Dan apologizes btw. He may be a dick, but he's a nice dude in the end to kids.
Anyways. Chloe would actually cry over the fact that Danny is dead and Trix would be sad for a bit before being happy she has someone to play with. Maze would be sad but take Danny in.
Maze and Danny are an unbearable duo.
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k1ng-ej · 6 days ago
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Can you dooooo
Reader coming on there cycle in bed and the slasher thinks there bleeding out or smtn until they explain it to them?
Allll fluff, you could do headcanons or a specific slasher if you want
Slashers reaction to you starting your period
(Michael, Thomas, Vincent)
Note: excuse this if this a little sloppy, i planned on doing a few other slashers but then i didnt feel like it lol. mental exhaustion is real! anyway, i hope you enjoy <33
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Michael
It was a rare night where Michael was sleeping in your bed, he usually doesn't sleep at all or chooses to sleep in the guest room or on the couch in the living room. You don't know why he did that, but you never forced him to come and sleep in your bed, not wanting to overstep boundaries. Michael is a complicated man to understand, and you don't want to push his buttons too much.
You nestled against him, your head comfortably resting on his chest as you basked in the warmth he emanated. You appreciated these rare moments with Michael, especially because he kept you warm on the coldest nights. After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning, you finally climbed out of bed, intending to get a glass of water. Just then, you heard the sound of Michael shifting, turning to face you.
"I'll be right back." You smiled, taking a moment to admire his mask-less face. From where you stood, he looked like just a normal man, his brown curls that laid perfectly on his forehead, the slightest dark bags under his mismatched eyes, and the way he laid in your bed, he didn't look like a man who has tormented your small hometown known as Hadonfield.
Just as you were about to turn around, a strong hand seized your wrist. When you looked back, you saw Michael propped up in bed, staring at you intently. His expression remained blank, but there was purpose in his movements. He drew you closer, lifting your shirt as if searching for something specific. When he couldn't find what he sought, he gently tugged at your shorts.
"What are you doing?" You questioned with a confused chuckle, looking down at yourself. Michael grabbed the bottom of your shorts and pulled them so you could see. You had apparently started your period, you completely forgot to keep an eye for that this week.
"Oh." You figured that was what Michael was looking for, the source of the blood that now stained your favorite pajama shorts.
Michael looked to you, and tilted his head. You figured he was probably never educated about this subject, you wondered how you would explain it to him.
"It's my period, I get it every month. It's normal so there's nothing to worry about." You explained carefully. "I mean, the only thing you'd have to worry about would be my mood swings." You joked with a giggle. Michael only blinked at you, you didn't know if he understood, maybe he didn't care.
Then, he gave you a subtle nod, one you almost missed if you hadn't been staring at him. You assumed he got what you said, so you left it at that.
Thomas
Thomas shook you awake in the middle of the night, his concern evident. Groggy and disoriented, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, mumbling some indistinct words of annoyance.
"What's wrong, Tommy?" You asked as you shivered, noticing how cold it suddenly was. Oh, the blanket had been pulled off.
Thomas pointed to your legs, and you noticed a small blood stain underneath of you. You quickly realized that as your period. Thomas appeared slightly unsettled, leading you to wonder if Luda Mae had ever discussed periods with him. Before you could clarify, he began examining your body for any signs of injury, which made you chuckle. You found his concern adorable.
"Thomas, i'm okay. It's just my period, it's something that females get every month. it's nothing bad." You clarified, a faint smile resting on your lips. Thomas stopped checking your body, giving you a confused look.
"I promise. It doesn't even hurt me. Well… kind of but it's not that serious." You hoped you weren't making Thomas more confused than he already was, but when he stopped furrowing his brows you assumed he understood what you were explaining to him. YA sigh escaped your lips as the reality set in: you needed to change out of your stained pajamas and replace the bedsheet. You longed to have slept in and postponed this chore until morning, yet you couldn't fault Thomas for his concern about your wellbeing. He prepared a swift shower for you to freshen up while he took care of the bedding. Once the chores were done, he made sure you had a restful night, holding you tightly against his chest until the early hours of dawn.
Vincent
You went to bed after Vincent mentioned he would be up a little later, immersed in his work on wax sculptures. This was a frequent situation, even though you often encouraged him to join you, insisting that he needed and deserved the rest. While you wholeheartedly supported Vincent in his pursuits, it always troubled you when he sacrificed sleep for his art.
You had woken up to the sound of shuffling, probably Vincent finally coming to bed. You didn't know what time it was, but you couldn't even be bothered to open your eyes to check. You felt a gentle nudge, Vincent's way of telling you to scoot over so he could get into bed as well. You grumbled before eventually scooting to the other side of the bed, you waited to feel the bed dip, indicating he laid down. But it never came.
Instead, Vincent was shaking you awake, it seemed urgent.
"Hm? Is something wrong Vinc?" You mumbled into the pillow, looking at him through an eye. In the dark, you could barely make out him signing to you.
"What?" You finally moved your face to fully look at him, worried by his seemingly panicked signing.
'You're bleeding. What happened?'
"I'm bleeding? What do you mean?" You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was talking about. You hadn't been around any sharp objects recently, and you didn't have any old wounds that could be reopened. Vincent then gestured to the bed, you sat up and realized what happened. Where you laid previously had a blood stain on the sheets, you already knew your pants would be stained too.
"Awh… I got my period." You frowned, huffing from your nose. Your least favorite time of the month. You felt bad for staining Vincent's sheets, making a mental promise to yourself that you'd get it out tomorrow morning.
'Period?' He signed, tilting his head. He still seemed worried about you, you could see it in his body language by the way he leaned toward you and slightly reached his hands out to you. You knew he wanted to check you for any wounds, something he did quite often because you were very clumsy and often got scrapes and cuts, which he would patch up for you.
"Yeah, yeah. It's just something girls get every month. I get cramps and whatnot. Sorry for staining your sheets."
'Cramps? Anything else?'
"Uhhh, food cravings, mood swings." You shrugged, starting to scooch off the bed. Vincent took your hand and helped you up, then started leading you toward the bathroom. "Where are we going?"
He didn't respond as he released your hand and knelt beside the bathtub, turning on the water and testing its warmth with his fingers. You had always known Vincent to be thoughtful, consistently showing you kindness and tenderness. However, you never anticipated him starting a bath for you in the middle of the night.
"Oh, Vincent, you didn't have to." You smiled warmly at the gesture, feeling grateful to have a significant other like him.
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kaisaerinlover · 3 months ago
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michael kaiser
tw: dubcon, incest
michael kaiser. he’s a great brother, he loves his baby sister and she loves him too. he’s an excellent brother, actually. except for when he’s not. except for the times like now. he’s angry. he just got home from practice and he’s mad, you don’t know what at, what do you know about football? you don’t pry and you don’t ask, you know how he is when he’s stressed. you know he’s home because of the loud bang from downstairs. you’re thankful you aren’t the wall because you can all but imagine the hole that kaiser’s tattooed fist has more than likely just left there. you’re thinking about it still, so hard you don’t even notice your bedroom door slam open.
kaiser looks pissed, and stressed. he’s looking at you with rage and desperation. you’re confused, what are you supposed to do? “mic-“ he pins you to the bed before you can even speak his name fully, hand over your mouth and wrists over your head. “don’t talk, please, just let me have this.” have what? you don’t know what he’s talking about? poor you, you’re so innocent, it’s funny. kaiser would find it cute usually, but not right now, he needs this so bad. he smashes his lips onto yours, this isn’t the sweet kisses you’re oh so accustomed to; this is desperate. if he wasn’t your brother you’d think he was about to cannibalise you or something, seriously. kaiser is a little rough sometimes, but never in this setting. usually it’s a punch or a few insults, not this. but ah, you’re so wet already; and you’re so ashamed of that.
he’s already on top of you, peeling off your cute pajamas that he graciously gifted you just last week (thanks big brother) and pinching you everywhere harshly. you can see in his eyes something is seriously up, he’s so desperate. he pinches your tits in his much larger hands, and you whine. “all mine, you’re all for me, aren’t you? say it.” his tone is stern, and you know better than to disobey, but he also looks so desperate, what has gotten your brother so riled up? “all for y-you micha, everythin’ for y-you-“ you sputter out between breathy moans. he’s toying with your nipples, and it hurts. he’s so mean, and you hate yourself for liking it.
if he didn’t notice your arousal before he definitely has by now, you’re grinding on the knee he has slotted between your frail legs. “you want me? say it, tell me you want me” and you shake your head no. no way, you don’t want this, it’s too rough for you. he has to be nicer with you. and he doesn’t like that, are you out of your fucking mind? your brother is michael fucking kaiser. he’s done everything for you, he raised you and you tell him no? “you fucking whore, just listen for once, don’t you remember everything i’ve done for you? is that how you treat your brother who gave up everything just to give you a good fucking life?” he’s right. how could you do that to your brother? you’re a bad sister aren’t you?
before you know it you’re kicked onto the floor between his legs as he pulls his shorts down and palms his erection through his boxers. and you’re so cute down there. you’re clinging to his leg looking up at him like he’s a god passing judgement on you. “‘m sorry mikka, sorry f-for real- i’ll be good i swear-“ you sniffle. and man are you cute. you look like a kicked puppy. god you’re so easy to bend to his will. it’s a miracle you’re his sister, because if anyone else was your brother you’d be done for, they would take so much advantage of you. he muses to himself, even though he knows he’s probably way worse than anyone else that would ever even interact with you (if he allowed it, which he’s never going to.) he brings a finger to your lips to hush you as he pulls out his cock completely. “it’s ok, just be good for me now, ‘kay? i had a long day.” and you are good. you’re so good, opening your mouth so pliantly to take your brothers dick.
he’s gripping your hair so hard you’re scared he’s about to pull your scalp off, but don’t worry, he knows better, he knows how to make it as painful as he can without causing you any actual harm. lucky you, or something. it hurts really bad, you’re too delicate for this, but when you open your eyes and look up to see your older brother in complete ecstasy it’s so worth it, so worth gagging on his fat cock ‘cause at least it makes him happy. at least you’re repaying him for everything he’s done for you, right? he deserves this! everyone deserves a break ‘specially your brother ‘cause he does so much for his beloved baby sister. kaiser loves it, seeing you on your knees between his legs, the girl he raised like a kid, his sister, the one he shares the same eyes with, the same hair, the same smile that you wear so much better, everything. so fucking cute. you’re so perfect, he’s secretly so insecure you’re going to pack up and leave him one day. it’s why he’s been so stressed ontop of soccer. please don’t leave your brother after he did so much for you! you look so docile down there, and you are, he knows ‘cause he trained you to be like that. you’re good for him always, and he likes that.
it’s so rewarding when he finally cums. you’re panting so much, some of his cum almost spills out of your mouth. he’s quick to close it with his hand and you feel a little embarrassed. don’t be such a wasteful idiot, you have to take everything your brother gives you so generously. both of you are worn out, he thinks you look so cute, mouth stuffed full of his cock and seed like a cute hamster. he wipes his spent dick on your cheek and ruffles your hair affectionately. “good job, you did good” all of his anger dissipated as soon as he came, he’s so lucky he knows it. having a baby sister is the best, seriously, the best remedy for any negative emotions at all.
you’re still so wet, and you’re so ashamed! you shouldn’t feel like this, but you do, and kaiser knows it too. good thing you did so well at taking his cock tonight, now he’ll indulge you a little too. you’re still on the floor, sitting with your legs up and a little spread. you look so cute, looking up at him with so much admiration and love, like he’s some deity. to you he is, he’s your whole world actually, you don’t have anyone except him. you’re kinda like a pet, he thinks. the saying that you should be nice to your pet because you’re their whole life, but they aren’t your whole life because you have other people, other things, other responsibilities. that’s kind of how your brother views you. you’re so closed off from everything else, it’s funny. a pet sister. he wants to laugh at the thought, but he simply looks down at you. you were really good, weren’t you?
he brings a socked foot between your legs and massages your soaked panties with it. ah, it’s so degrading, and you moan so sweetly afterwards. he’s teasing you, you know you probably look pathetic, mewling at your brothers foot tormenting your aching pussy, but you don’t care, you want it so bad. he’s toying with you, he’s so mean sometimes, you think. but it’s better than before, at least he’s not mad. he’s smirking down at you. “feels good? little slut” he chastises you, but his words don’t hold any real malice, only love. you don’t need to answer, you won’t be able to form a real sentence anyway, don’t worry, he knows that. he just keeps toying with your aching core with his foot. like you’re some insignificant pet cat on the floor.
and then comes what he was waiting for. your sweet begging, it’s so cute, you’re so cute, adorable in fact. “s-stop playin’ mikka- please- need you- please i was so g-goodddd” you whine at him. and he agrees, you were good. such a good girl for your brother. fine, he’ll indulge you. you’re on his lap with 3 of his fingers rubbing on your cunt, your brother’s fingers are so nice, he knows exactly what you like. he stops for a second to shove his fingers in your mouth. “can you taste how sweet you are on your brother’s fingers, hm? prinzessin?” he laughs. he’s so condescending the whole time, you feel so pathetic for enjoying this. he probably thinks you’re a fool! and he does, but in a different way, he thinks as he goes back to rubbing your little pussy, you’re a fool, but it’s okay, you’re only the product of your elder brother. he made you this way so he could enjoy you, let him reap his reward, okay? don’t overthink! your brother likes how pitiful you are under his touch. under his presence. under simply him.
it’s deplorable how much you’ve enjoyed tonight, your brother’s fingers still toying with you til’ you can’t take it anymore, but neither of you care. you can’t care anyway, this is normal to you; you’re a well trained girl and your mind is elsewhere on this subject. he could care, but he doesn’t, if you don’t care why should he? finally, his skilled fingers coax you to your orgasm, and you pant in his arms. he brings his fingers to your mouth again and you mindlessly open for him to insert them. see, well trained and cute. you’re so pliant, he loves it. he truly outdid himself raising you.
you’re asleep straight after that, clinging to his side in bed as he scrolls his phone. man, having a baby sister is the best, he’s almost sorry for everyone else who pays for therapy and medicine, when the best cure to every problem is free! it’s just having a younger sister to use!!! he kisses your head and smirks “sleep tight, katzi” and closes his eyes too. what a good day he’s had.
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bloodywickedvamp · 1 year ago
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Two's Company - What The Hell Is Six? Part 3
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Poly!Lost Boys x GN Reader x Michael
Series Masterlist
Summary: It's date night
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: swearing, touching, angst, arguments, flirting, lil kiss
I really cannot believe it took me so long to finish part 3 like...where did the time go?? It was almost an entire year...I just struggled to find the motivation but I finally did! Not sure if this is even good it's so late when I finished writing lol, hope you enjoy!
Dividers: @saradika & @firefly-graphics
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“Okay…I’ll do it.”
“What?” Michael turns towards me and asks bewildered. I can’t blame him, I’m a little shocked by my own acquiescence. 
I tear my gaze from David to Michael and briefly at our fingers laced together before meeting his eyes. 
“I know this isn’t ideal Mikey, but you heard them, they won’t stop. We can talk about this more later, okay? Just trust me.” Squeezing his hand so tight, to help him to understand why I’m doing this. Why I didn’t have a choice other than to accept their ‘offer’. To protect him from whatever they’re truly capable of. If I said no, they’d take it out on Michael, I know they would. 
He takes a moment to respond. Taking me in from top to bottom and squeezing back a non-verbal response before speaking. With more understanding than I initially thought he’d be capable of granting, he nods, brings our hands up to his lips to ghost them over my knuckles and finally lets out a soft 'okay' with a gentle smile only meant for me. I mirror the sweetness in his face back, until the moment is interrupted. 
“Well that’s just adorable.” David snorted, all too eager to have our attention not on each other. 
“But if you’re finished I’d like to get back to the date you just agreed to.” He directed impatiently. 
“Fine, but there are some ground rules we need to establish first.” I said.
“Oh?” questioned David. He seemed amused by my answer, curiosity slipping through at what I could possibly come up with. 
“First, no kissing or inappropriate touching-”
Paul cut me off to complain, “damn babe, those are all my go-to moves.”
Dwayne swiftly takes it upon himself to reprimand the wild blonde with an elbow to the side and a ‘shut up Paul’. While said blonde untangles his arm from the taller man's shoulders to soothe his aching side with a look of exasperation, like he’d been completely put out by the interaction. 
“Ow, I was only kinda kidding. You can’t hit me like that man, you know I'm sensitive.” He croaked out in a very childlike manner accompanied by a pouty bottom lip. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually got into the fetal position next with how dramatic of a person he seemed to be. In a different circumstance I would’ve found the exchange funny and how close the two are adorable. 
Instead of dwelling, I decided to continue. “Second, we won’t be going anywhere private, we’ll be in public the whole time. Third, no threatening or hurting Michael for any reason. No matter what happens on our ‘date’ you don’t get to do anything to him.” Emphasizing date with a quick eye roll. I may have agreed to this but I don’t have to be happy about it. 
Michael let out a small chuckle from my right before he leaned down to whisper in my ear “My hero.” I try my best to hold back the smile threatening to sneak its way past my serious demeanor but it’s useless and I crack. I can never seem to hold myself back when it comes to Michael, he pulls every part of me to the forefront, good or bad, he always embraces it with open arms and a warm smile. 
“Is that all or do you have any more demands princex?” Marko piped in, once again directing our attention towards the boys in front of us. 
“That’s all for now, but if I think of any more I’ll be sure to let you know promptly.” I finish with faux nicety and the sweetest smile I can muster. 
Pulling a sarcastic laugh from him followed by an even more sarcastic “Can’t wait.” 
It seems Marko and I will be having the most lively time together on our date, if we don’t kill each other first. 
This time, I hear a genuine laugh come from the same curly headed boy. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
I’m baffled at the comment. His joyous response sounded like it was directed at my previous thought, one I definitely thought to myself and didn’t voice aloud. 
“Wait, I didn’t say anything. How-”
Paul decides to answer me first. “We've got all kinds of tricks we can show you baby”, with an additional cheeky grin thrown my way. 
While David finishes with a “but we’ll save that for next time. We’ll meet back here tomorrow night where we usually park the bikes, right after sunset. Don’t be late.” He looks between Michael and I as the quartet begin to make their leave. Each boy giving their own version of a goodbye with waves and ‘catch ya laters’ till they’ve vanished from underneath the boardwalk back towards the stairs. 
“So…we should probably get home and maybe figure out what the hell you just agreed to.” Michael announces after a bout of silence following the departure. 
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After Michael drives us back home, he seems to be in a better mood than I expected. He’s acting like his old self again, not letting go of my hand or some part of my body since we arrived. The truth coming out makes him much more at ease, which I can appreciate. The rest of the family noticed his sudden presence at the dinner table with stunned expressions, Sam even commenting ‘what were you dying for moms lasagna or something bud?’ as Lucy shoo’s that off with a wave of her hand and says she’s happy to see everyone together again for dinner with a beaming smile along her face, quickly changing the topic to grandpa’s aversion to giving him an overdue haircut.
Later on, Michael and I found ourselves in the bedroom we share. After a lengthy discussion of the night to come and having to only calm him down a couple of times from leaving to find the boys again and telling them to fuck off, we agree on sticking it out just for tomorrow. After the dates I tell them it won’t work and we can put this mess behind us, hopefully. The matter of Michael being a bloodthirsty creature of the night has yet to be discussed. 
“I still don’t like this plan, just so we’re clear.” He proceeds to tell me one final time as we start to lay down to sleep with a few hours of darkness left cloaking the sky before dawn breaks. 
“We don’t have any other options…unless one of your new special tricks includes time travel to before you met them.” I jokingly tack on as I cuddle further into his side. 
He releases a light chuckle while rubbing my back soothingly. “Sadly no, that’s not in my abilities.” 
“It’ll be okay.” I say, not certain if it’s more for his sake or my own. He silently agrees with a kiss to my forehead and a soft goodnight as we both fall asleep in the comfort of this small window of time we have together. 
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Michael and I silently wake up just hours before we would need to leave, having mostly slept the day away together. As dusk quickly approaches, getting ready seemed an easier task than I initially anticipated. He showers after me and dresses in his usual attire of blue jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, and his newly acquired leather jacket that I can’t help but start to like the more I see him in it. While I put on a nice tank top, black jean shorts, and sneakers, dressing fairly casual but also something I would wear on a date with Michael. My outfit showed a bit more skin due to the heat. 
He gives me a once over before asking ‘Is that new?’ as he points to my top. I nod with a look of ‘yeah why?’ and he only shakes his head back before answering, “nothing, you just look nice…and not to sound like a jealous boyfriend but…I can’t say i’m happy seeing you wear something new for them.” 
“Hey I can chan-”
“No.” He stops me before I begin. “Like I said you look good and I’ll just have to get over the fact that they’re getting to be with you tonight and not me, when all I want to do now is rip your outfit to shreds and toss you back in that bed till morning.” He says, as he grabs my hips pulling me into a heated kiss. Only allowing himself to pull back as I’m gasping for air. 
“Very tempting offer.” I breathlessly snicker while running my hands through his thick head of curls. He pulls me back in for one more peck and reluctantly drags me along to the front door so we can head out.
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We arrive at the boardwalk and Michael parks his bike exactly where David said they’d be, watching the crowd go by and laughing amongst themselves till we’ve made our way into the group beside them as they take notice. Michael helps me off his bike as we stand in front of them, hands still intertwined. 
David looks at us like it’s cute we’re still trying to hold up some type of front to the situation, and I guess in a way he’s right, they have the upper hand. 
Surprisingly Marko is the first to speak, “And here I thought you were dreading going out with us, but by the looks of that outfit I’d say you were trying to put on a show, feel free to show off even more skin if you’d like.” It takes everything in my body to stay calm because I know that comment is only meant to get a rise out of me. I won’t give him the satisfaction. 
After I take a soothing breath I reply, “It’s hot outside and I’d rather not keel over from overheating, that’s all.” 
He leans closer with a smirk and gives a half-hearted “whatever you say sweetheart”, before leaning back and giggling like school girls about it with Paul. I simply roll my eyes and turn my attention back to David. 
“Let’s go.” He announces to the group as we all start to follow his lead. Dwayne walks in stride with Michael and I, sandwiching me between them, with Marko and Paul tailing behind us. I decide to chance it and look at Dwayne as he leans down towards me, not breaking eye contact for even a moment as we continue to walk. “Don’t let him get to you, he just likes to ruffle feathers. But for what it’s worth, you look lovely.” His lips lift into a half smile, half smirk once he notices the heat rising to my cheeks at the complement. I attempt to brush it off with a quick ‘thanks’ and steal a glance at Michaels now taut jaw and lingering gaze on us. I turn my attention forward as Dwayne’s hand coyly slides up my waist and is gone again before I even have time to register it as he picks up his pace to step in time with David. Michael lets out a scoff and pulls me closer to his side by our joined hands. 
David walked us to a section of restaurants with outdoor seating we could all gather at, choosing a wooden picnic bench for us. Michael and I are sitting on one bench with the two natural blondes and brunette sitting on the other, while David decides to grab a lone chair from a different table and pull it up on the side so he’s seated at the ‘head’ of the table. 
“So how is this going to work exactly? Are we all doing this together or…?” I decide to voice my curiosity before the conversation inevitably gets side tracked or leads to another argument.  
All eyes turn to David as he fills me in. “We’ll each take you out individually - Dwayne’s first.” Nodding his head in the direction of his friend. My own gaze found its way back to his dark brown eyes, that same smile from earlier plastered on. In that moment a wave of familiarity washed over me, like I’ve gotten lost in those eyes a million times before and would continue to do so for as long as I’d be allowed to stare into them. Like how it feels to look into Michaels. 
Michael.
Remembering he’s sitting right next to me I shake the previous thoughts away and proceed to stand to meet Dwayne on the other side so we can get this night started already. 
But I freeze in my tracks as it suddenly occurs to me that Michael will be all alone with the other boys for the rest of the evening, and the thought of him being tormented and teased about this situation he has no control over sends a pang of guilt through me. I decide I have to try and ease some of the tension, if I can. 
“Wait- before we go I have another condition to add.” 
David leans back in his chair with a raised brow, gloved fingers tapping along the table. “Yes?” 
“If this is going to work you can’t be at each other's throats the whole time I'm gone. Michael told me that he barely knows anything about any of you and vice versa, so while I'm on each date the rest of you are going to stay here and get to know each other - like real friends.” 
“What?” 
“I’m serious, you’re not going to sit here all night and fuck with my boyfriend behind my back, I’m not asking.” I try to muster up as much confidence in my words as I'm sure David actually has naturally coursing through him. He only ponders what I've said momentarily before giving a strained smile that doesn’t exactly meet his eyes and mutters out a quick ‘sure’. Looking towards the others that slowly nod along in agreement - even if their faces say otherwise. 
Now feeling better about leaving, I let Dwayne lead the way out of the seating area towards the  crowds of people scattered along the boardwalk for whatever he had planned.
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Michael turns back to the remaining boys seated with him after staring daggers into Dwayne's back before the two completely disappear from sight. He speaks up before the others can, to get the ball rolling. “Okay so…where should we start?” He sends them each a questioning glance. 
David stares back with the most incredulous look he can muster, like he couldn’t believe he was actually going through with the ‘getting to know each other idea’. After a minute a mocking smile takes over his face. 
“Yeah…” He draws out. “We’re not doing that.” He says with little room for push back. 
Michael crosses his arms over his chest and nods his head in a similar mocking manner, amused by the reply. “You’ve got a lot to learn, they’ll come back and expect a full report on what we talked about, want specifics to make sure you followed through on your promise.” 
“We’ll make something up.” David again says matter of factly. 
Michael scoffs. “They’ll be able to tell if i’m lying, how do you think I ended up in this situation in the first place? I wasn’t able to keep what you did to me a secret.” The other boys may not want to participate in this but he’d be damned if he got into trouble for not at least trying to play nice. 
“Alright, fine. I particularly enjoyed watching you get your ass chewed out in front of half the boardwalk last night. It was the highlight of my week.” David faux relents, like he’s shared intimate knowledge of himself only few know and pretends as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders with a content sigh. Stifled giggles from the terror twins echo in the background. 
“You know what, the only one you’re hurting is yourself. Keep it up and they’ll want nothing to do with you. Which will be the highlight of my life.” 
Silence followed Michaels statement as the two were now sat in a heated staring match. The tension in the air rapidly increased as neither one backed down. If looks could kill they’d both be six feet under. Even the blondes, who hadn’t said a word since the conversation began, were forced into an awkward stillness watching the interaction unfold, waiting for the underlying hostility to bubble over. 
Paul decides someone has to try and mediate before this gets any uglier and, more importantly, his turn for a date is possibly soured by the oldest and newest member of their pack coming to blows. In his opinion the best way to deal with this would be to let them fight it out, but he knows the night can’t end with them covered in blood, scratches, and bite marks - unless they’re fucking. 
All eyes are suddenly shifted to Paul as he clears his throat obnoxiously. “Uhhh…my favorite band is Mötley Crüe.” He says with a bright smile, proud that it actually worked since the boys' body languages were all seeming to relax. 
Marko, good naturedly, pats Paul on the back as an ‘attaboy’ for the attempt. 
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As Dwayne and I continue walking through the boardwalk I feel one of his hands graze my lower back and rest there. I quickly snatch his wrist and pull it in front of me.
“I said no touching.” I admonish. Before I can drop it, he seizes the opportunity to grab my hand instead. 
“I was only trying to guide you, but you’re right this way is better so we don’t get separated.” 
“Right…” I probably should have put up more of a fight, but the crowd is double the size of last night's and we could easily lose each other. Not that I really believe his reason for wanting to hold my hand is so noble. I let it slide anyways.
We make small talk about movies and music as we venture through different stalls. Anytime he asks me a question I have to mentally prepare myself before answering. His intense gaze makes me apprehensive, it's like he’s enraptured by every word and I’m nervous if what I'm saying is even adequate. He hasn’t been judgemental yet, so I let his deep baritone put me at ease when he responds to something I’ve said. 
He pulls us to a stop in front of an ice cream shop claiming it's the best in town and we should get some. After ordering and him paying for both of ours, we head towards the other side to lean against the railing while we eat. He watches as I dig out a spoonful of the sweet treat to taste. My eyes go wide from the first bite. He wasn’t kidding about how good it is and he seemed proud of himself once I told him exactly that. 
After a few mouthfuls of his own, he silently gestures towards his cup asking if I’d like to try the flavor he had and I nod in agreement. He dips his spoon in and holds it to my mouth for me to try. I squint at it before making eye contact with him and before I can even get a word out he’s anticipated why I won't try it. 
“You’re not cheating on Michael by tasting my ice cream.”
“No, but I’m not trying to swap spit by sharing a spoon.” I decline, while gently pushing his arm towards his own face to eat it and he does so with a chuckle. 
He relents and allows me to try it with my own spoon. I, in turn, make him the same offer with my cup of ice cream. 
Instead, he takes his thumb and swipes it across the corner of my mouth before bringing it back to his own and sucking on the digit. 
“Pretty good.” He says casually.
I’m in shock as my whole body is set aflame from the intimate moment. He grants me a small mercy by not acknowledging how much it affected me. I proceed to eat the rest in silence knowing if I look him in the eye or, god forbid, try and have a conversation after that I’d be a stuttering mess. 
He takes the lead once more by throwing out our trash and grabbing my hand to help me off the railing. 
“Let’s check out a few pop up booths, there might be something there you like.” He says as he walks us in that direction. 
“Like clothes and stuff?” I ask. I haven’t really explored the boardwalk before so I don’t know much about what they have or the best places to shop. 
“Yeah, that’s usually where we pick something up if we need new clothes, that’s where Marko gets all his patches because they’re…cheap.”
“Do you even own a shirt?” I jest. “Because I’ve only ever seen you in just that jacket.”
He looks back at me with amusement in his eyes. 
“I do, but the clean up from a night out is much easier without one.” 
I give him a weary look and he tenses slightly like he said something he probably shouldn’t have. 
“Do I want to know what that means?” 
He shakes his head at me, “no, probably not.” 
“Let’s just keep the conversation light for now.” I suggest, hoping not to dive into anything too heavy. I’ve enjoyed the mostly chill atmosphere so far and hope it can stay that way. 
“Deal”, he says as he gives me a genuine smile as we continue on our way.
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