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rae-writes · 3 months

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An Angel?

om demons x reader (+Simeon, Solomon, Mephi, Raph)

wc : 2.k

warnings : more simping bois, more humor, a lot more sprinkles of suggestive comments

synopsis : a deviltok trend has the boys on their knees for you, part two: electric boogaloo

a/n : for the record, Luke was in the room while Mc was making it, cheering them on, doing his cute little “Waahhh!” // idea brought to me by the lovely [your-next-daydream] // AND, as usual, let’s not talk about how ridiculously long this took me to finish ahaha rip me-

demon ver.

<Simeon> Mc looks rather...heavenly, don’t you agree?

[attachment sent]

Intrigued, he wasted no time in clicking on the file, grinning when he realized it was one of your deviltoks. Decked out in your RAD uniform, you sat in a chair with your hands clasped together.

“Who are you?”

Smoothly, almost as if you were floating, you stood and took a few steps towards the camera with a rather shy smile.

“An angel.”

You bowed ever so slightly, flitting your gaze to the floor.

“What’s your name?”

You spun suddenly, sending your red accessory swooshing in front of the camera, covering everything from view.

“Michael.”

As fast as the transition happened, it ended; the view was cleared to reveal you— angelic down to a T and beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe you.

You were adorned with sheer, white clothing that was loose and flowy, probably swaying due to a fan that was off camera. Light blue accents were scattered here and there- including an extension piece in your hair of the same color. Sparkling gold accessories glinted under the light, but not as much as the halo that hovered above your head. It was a gorgeous molten gold tint, partly transparent with glitter floating around inside (with a few cracks decorating the outside of it). It only brought attention to the snowy wings spanning out behind you, flecks of iridescent scattered amongst the feathers.

[9 people saved a video attachment]

Lucifer

Ah. Yes. He’s not combusting on the inside, not at all.

*insert internal screaming*

Ahem. Now that his jaw has been picked up off the floor, he is immediately wondering how the fuck Simeon of all people got access to the video before him

Don’t get him wrong though, he is on the way right now- leave the door open, Mc

He has to put his marks all over your body to get rid of the fact that you looked that pretty while using Michael’s name

Possessive urges aside, please keep the outfit on

Does not care if you’re dressed up like an Angel, he will gladly corrupt you

In fact, he wants to corrupt you- let him see that pact mark of his while you look so angelic, yeah?

might be into role playing it if you’d like

Mammon

Blinks a couple times before looking around slowly; poor boy really thought he’d been yeeted back to the celestial realm for a minute there

It’s all quiet before suddenly everyone in the house (and probably outside) hears “HOLY FUCK WHAT”

You never cease to amaze him, by the devils, is he in love

The blush on his face- if he was anything other than a demon- would look severely concerning. Like no, it’s not a red beacon of light, it’s just him coming through the halls

Is creepin outside ya door practically on his knees. Please let him in. His greed is flared and you’re the only cure even if you’re also the reason

He is dying to have a diy photo shoot of the two of you in your angel fit

Step on him. Do it- it’s the perfect angle, the shot comes out beautifully and he is putting it right in his wallet once it’s developed

Will step on you in return if you ask

You’ll let him kiss all over your body, wontcha, Mc? (he’ll even be gentle with his fangs when he nibbles around that golden necklace you’ve got on)

Levi

*cue his very nervous yet giddy laughter*

This is just like that anime he saw last week called ‘Help! My human s/o just turned into an Angel but I’m a demon and actually kind of into this?!”

Seriously though, you look so beautiful, Levi was immediately down in the floor with his face covered and tail wagging

Please allow 3-4 business months before he can recover

Jk lol he’s hovering in your doorway before you you can even click on his contact

Shyly asks if he can touch your halo and wings (and ends up with his tail wrapped around you, knocking you side to side because it’s still attempting to wag)

Unlike the eldest brother, Levi practically begs you to roleplay this with him and have a cosplay photoshoot

Will shamelessly keep you to himself for the rest of the day and hiss at everyone who gets too close

Please sit on him and call him mean names while also holding him sweetly

Satan

Sign him tf up- he’s got a pen at the ready

Irony aside, Satan thinks you look absolutely stunning— straight out of a fairy tale

Irony not aside, Satan is actually so into this and craves to play it out with you

He was never an Angel to begin with, he was born a demon; just thinking about making your ivory wings turn black makes him excited

Satan understands it’s just a simple spell you’ve casted so he won’t get too out of sorts (but if you like it, then what’s the harm?)

Wants to read a forbidden love trope book and maybe act out some of the scenes while you’re still dressed like that

The hopeless romantic in him is front and center the entire time

If you think he’s gonna let you go now, you’re sorely mistaken— let his brothers try and take you away

He’s got tons of scenarios to act out if you can handle him

Asmo

That weird high pitched sound you hear from across the house that should be something only dogs can hear? Yeah that’s Asmo squealing

Posting your video EVERYWHERE bc everyone needs to see how fucking gorgeous you look

You can hear his footsteps from a mile away as he hurries to your room

He MUST see your outfit in person ASAP

Azzy. Is. So. Fucking. Down. For. This. Shit. He thinks he’s dreamed about this once actually

Please let him just examine every inch of you, he’s begging

Once again his camera is out and ready for a photoshoot and his demon form is out right alongside it

He will be keeping you for the next 24-48 hours thanks

Beel

Choked. Again.

Don’t be alarmed by the loud rumbling sound— it’s not Beel’s stomach for once, but instead a growl

He didn’t mean to make that sound but you just look so— and he just— and you— and and— A a a A A

Has that cute little blush plastered over his face all. day.

Might be tempted- or actually try- to take a bite out of your halo or something else ifykyk

Rewatches the video at least ten times because you're just. Wow. Wow. W O W.

Is now in the mood to eat some celestial realm food with you

though his appetite is half for food and half for you

Pls don’t mind his staring or the way he’s probably drooling a bit, he can’t help it :(

Belphie

“...wait, what?”

Lays there staring at the ceiling for a moment bc PHEW you got him sweating and he hasn’t even moved yet-

Manages a straight face all the way until he enters your room and sees the outfits in person

To which he is, once again, dropping right at your feet with a look of ‘PLEASE’

He needs a whole ass minute or two to catch his breath from how fucking gorgeous you look and then he needs another whole ass minute or two to scan you over again

Please sit on him

Is uncharacteristically stuttering through every sentence— how can he possibly concentrate on stupid words in these [amazing] conditions?!

Gatekeeping you AGAIN

Underneath you the entire. time.

Barbatos

*windows shutdown*

*windows restart*

…aaand we’re back ladies and gentlemen and every cool dude in between but Barbatos is still fucking astonished— absolutely flabbergasted at how badly he’s got it for you

He dropped everything he was carrying in that moment and swiftly picked it back up, hoping no one saw

Diavolo saw. He recorded the entire thing and sent it to you, zooming in on Barbatos’ blush

There’s just something primal in him that makes him want to sink his teeth into you and coil his tail around your body so that you won’t be able to go anywhere else until he lets you

Everyone be damned, Barb will be having you to himself for the entire night

Will also run his fingers along the faux wings and halo before he absolutely ruins you until the magic dissipates

He is…totally normal about the entire thing..

Diavolo

His father help him— Diavolo is so incredibly thankful for the exchange program

Is OUT of the castle at mach speed before Barbatos can even say otherwise

And then he’s speeding right back and summoning you to him instead so he can have you to himself

Mans is kneeling at your fucking feet the second he lays eyes on you

And while it isn’t ‘proper’ for someone who wants unity between all three realms to want to corrupt you—

—he does. So badly. He thinks he might even beg you for it

Also wants to take a picture of the two of you with him in his demon form (it’s the it picture for weeks after he posts it)

Cannot stop looking at your halo; please let him touch it

(If you slowly begin altering your wings to bleed black, he’s practically foaming at the mouth—)

bonus:

Simeon

*sharp inhale* . . . *yeets halo*

He deadass forgets he’s an Angel himself for a few minutes bc he’s too busy simping fawning over you

God who?? Like get tf outta the way, beep beep, archangel on a mission comin through

Is begging as soon as he steps foot through your door. Please, please let him touch you and explore— he should be ashamed with how unabashed he is but fuck look at you

Will let his own wings out just so you can compare your angels forms (melted on the spot when you brushed your wings against his)

Honestly can’t decide if he wants you to corrupt him or if he wants to corrupt you…or both at the same time

He’s not sharing you. Not now. Not like this.

You may look like an angel, and he may be an angel, but he won’t treat you like one tonight

If you do the fancy trick of letting your wings turn black, he’s completely bowing down to whatever you wish right then and there

Solomon

Kinda forgot he was immortal for a split second and wondered if he’d either died or accidentally traveled to the celestial realm

Gains his bearings rather quickly, but the hold you have on him is still very much there

And he’d like you to have a hold around his throat— what? Who said that??

His pretty little blush where he averts his eyes all nervously? YEAH THAT

He’s taken aback for a couple moments before his usual shit eating grin comes back but that blush? Still there.

Backs you against a wall, in a corner, and let’s his hands roam with a small laugh, quietly asking how you manage to make him lose composure so easily

Is so soft and sweet for a minute before his eyes darken and that SEXY smirk crawls onto his face

Plucks that halo right from above your head and tosses it behind his shoulder because how could he possibly do what he has planned if you’re an angel?

Makes your wings bloom black himself (and challenges how long you can handle him)

extra little bonus:

Mephisto

Simply raises a brow and wonders why the hell his body got so hot all the sudden

Ignores the video for a couple hours until he realizes he can’t stop fucking thinking about it

Promptly decides he’s going to go straight to you and demand how dare you invade his thoughts like this

And then promptly decides he’d rather just revert to using his hands instead when the sight of you makes his mouth dry and water at the same time

Will take it upon himself, right then, to corrupt you

Because there’s no way in the seven rings of hell he’s letting you switch sides and he’ll break the magic you’re using as proof

After though *cough cough* he will bashfully tell you how gorgeous you looked…

Raphael

Let me tell you, mans was not ready

Like if you’ve seen the video of the person with a stacked ass on the stretcher being carried by and the news reporter’s face afterwards, that’s Raphael.

Luke takes a picture of his expression and makes a meme

Won’t address it until the very next day, stiffly telling you that your outfit was very pleasing to the eye (he thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous, okay, he’s just struggling)

If you offer to show him in person, he is ascending right back home. Won’t deny, though. Like please do.

In awe for the whole experience

And blushes an alluring deep shade if you show him some ‘corruption’ tricks you have up your sleeve

902 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 10 months

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More than temptation awaits you at Purgatory Hall.

MICHAEL x SIMEON x RAPHAEL x gn!Reader, 2.4k words, NSFW.

Content warnings: Canon-typical vampire behaviour (biting/blood drinking). Dub-con and dark themes including manipulative behaviour, power imbalance, mind-altering magic. Dom/sub dynamics, teasing, masturbation, oral sex, overstimulation, praise kink, corruption kink, pet name used for Reader (little lamb). gn!Reader (they/them pronouns).

more from the vampire!au

You stare at the ceiling of Simeon’s bedroom. Moonlight peeks through the curtains on the far wall; it’s the only light to chase away the evening’s shadows. When you turn your head anxiously to look at the angels surrounding you, all you can see is the unnaturally bright glow of their irises, tinged red with bloodlust. Michael’s eyes are the clearest of the three, and he sounds calm but authoritative. Trustworthy. Simeon and Raphael don’t speak much but when they do, they sound raspy as if they’re parched and dying of thirst.

They are thirsty, aren’t they?

Simeon called you earlier and you were startled by how rough his voice sounded, the faint tremor that distorted his voice as he spoke. He begged for you to come between groans of pain, and you rushed to Purgatory Hall as quickly as you could. Neither of you realized Raphael was suffering in his own room and had already called the Archangel to inform him of what was happening. By the time you arrived, all three angels were present and were exposed to the mysterious infection.

“We need to quell their bloodlust before it’s too late and they lose complete control of their senses,” Michael warned you when you arrived. You could see for yourself that Simeon and Raphael’s conditions were deteriorating rapidly, their brows furrowed and glistening with a sheen of sweat. “I am only here to help them, the same as you. Please help us.”

Of course you wanted to help—that’s why you agreed to give them what they needed, if it would spare them pain and suffering. That’s why they led you to Simeon’s room and laid you on his bed, and why they started peeling away your clothes for better access to the blood in your veins.

“You’re so brave, little lamb.”

Michael’s voice carries to you from somewhere near the foot of the bed. Simeon and Raphael work silently on either side of you. Raphael unbuttons your shirt so the collar is loose around your neck, and he rolls up your sleeves. Simeon unbuttons your jeans and taps your hip gently; you raise yourself off the bed so he can tug them off, and he lets them fall carelessly to the floor.

It would be a shame to ruin your nice clothes.

We want you to be comfortable.

The cool air on your bare skin makes you shiver. “You won’t be cold for much longer,” the Archangel promises.

In your secret, most depraved fantasies, you wondered what it might be like to have Simeon take you to his bed. You imagined it all sorts of ways: sweet, innocent fumblings as you giggle against each other’s mouths while he tries to peel away your clothes, or the harsh, panting breaths against your neck as he grasps the back of your shirt and tears it down the middle in his haste to find bare skin.

You knew Simeon looked at you a certain way when he didn’t think you were watching. He was generous with his touches, intimate touches he thought he could get away with in public and shrug off as platonic. He brushed his hand against yours when you walked, as if tempted to lace them together but not having the nerve to. He moved his chair closer to yours at lunch so that your thighs pressed together under the table. When he leaned over to speak to you, his lips nearly brushed your ear and his warm breath tickled your skin. You stared at his eyes when he pulled away, dark and wanting while he licked his lips and smirked.

You didn’t realize until now that Raphael acted differently around you too. He lacked Simeon’s recklessness, but he was no less intense. He didn’t linger close to you like Simeon did, but his gaze was hot and heavy and no less attentive as he watched you quietly from a distance. Sometimes he did shock you with flirting, his bold declarations tempered by his dulcet voice and even softer smile. He left you stunned and stuttering a response, only to turn away and remind you he wasn’t serious or he was only teasing you.

You’ve underestimated the angels, you think as Michael rubs a warm hand up and down your bare shin soothingly. “Relax,” he coos softly as if he can sense your anxiety. “You’re giving them what they need. They’re so lucky to have a friend like you.”

Simeon and Raphael each take a seat on the edge of the bed. They lift one of your hands in theirs and run their noses along the delicate skin of your wrist. Their eyes smolder like ruby pools in the dark room when they stare down at you, filled with unrepentant longing and hunger.

They move in sync, both striking fast as snakes as they bare their gleaming fangs and bite into your skin. Your body jolts in surprise from the searing pain, but your gasp of shock and discomfort trails off as your veins are set ablaze by something else. You moan before you can stop yourself, and your face heats up in mortification when Michael chuckles nearby.

“Don’t be shy.” The mattress dips by your feet when he kneels on the bed; he nudges your legs apart so he can settle comfortably between them. He rests his hands on your knees. “We want you to feel good, little lamb. This is your reward for being so generous.”

Michael watches you squirm on the bedcovers as pleasure seeps into your body from the fangs latched onto each of your wrists. The gluttonous sounds of Simeon and Raphael sucking and slurping and licking at your skin is punctuated by your increasingly loud, breathy moans and whimpers.

The Archangel huffs with amusement when your thighs press against him in an effort to rub them together for some sort of friction. He tilts his head in consideration and moves his hands to your bare thighs, pressing them down against the bed to hold you down. “What’s wrong, little lamb? You seem restless.” You don’t respond, but he doesn’t expect you to either—he can feel your body trembling with something other than fear.

Simeon and Raphael have been watching you with greedy eyes while they feed. Michael nods to them and after his silent instruction, they place their hands on your chest. They slide their hands underneath the flimsy material of your shirt and rub your skin with slow, soothing motions. Raphael scratches his nails lightly in your skin, leaving little pink indentations where he’s marked you. Simeon trails his hand up over your nipple and pinches it lightly between his fingers; he smiles against your wrist, bloody and satisfied, when it drags another moan from you.

“Does it feel good when they touch you?” Michael asks, sliding his hands slowly up your thighs. His thumbs drag up the inside of your legs.

You tilt your head back and nod clumsily against the pillow. “Y-yeah,” you whimper, arching your back against the mattress. Raphael and Simeon continue fondling your chest as they feed. “It feels so good.”

Michael hums thoughtfully as he slides one of his hands up the inside of your thigh. His fingers brush against your arousal, hot and needy beneath your underwear. Your thighs tremble delightfully when he strokes against the damp spot you’ve made with the tiniest amount of pressure, and you buck against him in a silent plea for more. Your own voice is hoarse from the mantra of sounds falling endlessly from your lips; the venom in your veins poisons your body with overwhelming pleasure.

Michael pulls his hand away and smirks against his sticky fingers as you cry out, pained by the loss of his touch. “Tell me what you want.” The command in his voice is unmistakable, even as he licks your musky taste from his fingers.

“I don’t—” you trail off between panting breaths, “I don’t know, please—”

Michael catches Simeon’s heated gaze, and he smirks before looking down at your sweaty, flushed face. Your eyes are glossy and blown-black with lust, and unshed tears cling to your lashes. “Tell me what you fantasize about when you think of Simeon,” he suggests innocently, eyes watching with fascination as you both react simultaneously to his words: Simeon growls against your wrist, and your eyes clench shut—from pleasure or embarrassment or both, Michael’s not sure.

“His mouth,” you admit in a shaky whisper, whimpering in shame as you turn your head to face away from Simeon.

Michael slides away from you and off the mattress, walking around the bed to Simeon’s side and nudging him to trade places. Simeon wipes at his bloody mouth, but all it does is smear your blood over his chin and hand. He nearly stumbles to the foot of the bed, blood-drunk and delirious with lust, before taking Michael’s place between your legs.

Michael kneels beside you on the mattress and tilts your head back towards him; he smiles when you finally open your eyes. “What a sweet, honest creature you are,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip.

While you’re distracted by Michael, Simeon tugs your slick underwear out of the way and buries his face against you, licking at sucking at your arousal. You nearly scream at the sudden sensation of his hot mouth and tongue, wet and sticky from your blood. Simeon groans loudly against you as you slide your free hand into his hair.

It’s delightfully sinful, the chorus of sounds filling the dark room, humid with the heat of their bodies and thick with the scent of copper and musk. Raphael stops feeding and squeezes himself through his pants, eyes dark with glittering arousal as he watches Simeon’s mouth work greedily between your thighs. Curses and groans fall endlessly from your lips, and you writhe against the mattress and arch your back as Simeon’s skillful tongue pushes you towards release.

Michael reaches down and covers your hand that’s tangled in Simeon’s hair with his own. He laces your fingers together and helps you guide Simeon’s movements. “Do you want to come?”

You’re too caught up in the ecstasy of Simeon’s mouth to realize Michael asked you a question. He squeezes your hand beneath his and grips Simeon’s hair, tugging harshly at his scalp and pulling him up from between your legs. Simeon hisses from the pain and snarls at Michael who raises an eyebrow at him before glancing back down at your face.

“Do you want to come?” Michael asks again, but his tone is sharper now, and it startles you into focus.

You whine incoherently, struggling to speak as the inferno building inside you leaves you nearly speechless. You roll your hips desperately in search of delicious friction and Michael tsks quietly.

“You can do better than that,” Michael murmurs. “Use your words, little lamb.”

You nod your head against the pillow, subconsciously baring your throat to him that makes you look so submissive. “Please, Michael, I want him—”

Michael’s eyes flick up to Simeon’s frustrated gaze and he smirks. “Never say that the Archangel doesn’t reward obedience.” He stares pointedly at Simeon for a few moments before pushing his head back down between your legs and releasing his grip on both of you.

Within seconds of Simeon’s hot mouth against your skin, you’re riding out your release, head mouth open in a silent scream. His hips grind against the mattress and he’s fueled by a different kind of hunger now. He keeps going, mouthing desperately at your sensitive skin even as you whimper pathetically above him—it’s too much, I can’t—and ride out the aftershocks of the second orgasm he drags from your body. By the time Simeon has licked the cum and slick off you and pulled away, you’ve passed out from exhaustion and blood loss.

“You did so well, you beautiful creature.” It’s almost gentle, the way Michael wipes sweat off your brow and cups your warm, ruddy cheek with his palm. His touch lingers for a moment before he finally moves away from you.

He glances at his angels who stand near the bed on shaky legs. Their faces are both stained crimson from your blood, and they each have blooming stains in their white pants: Simeon from rutting against the mattress while he feasted between your thighs, and Raphael from fucking his fist while he watched.

Michael ignores his own aching erection tenting his robes as he reaches for your wrists. He casts simple spells to close the bite wounds until your skin is healed and unblemished once more. “I think I can finally appreciate your exceptional interest in our little lamb,” he muses.

He waves his hand and murmurs a complicated blessing that illuminates Simeon and Raphael in a bright glow of his Grace. He nods satisfactorily when he sees that the hints of the vampiric infection within both of them are gone.

You were too worried about your friends, and too far gone with pleasure later, to notice he was never truly infected himself.

“How will we explain this tomorrow?” Raphael asks, grimacing when he runs his hand through his sweat-slicked hair. Simeon reaches for one of the discarded blankets on the floor and covers you with it.

Michael stands next to Simeon and places his hand over your eyes; it glows faintly before returning to normal. “All the others know is that they were here for a visit. If anyone asks, our friend was too sick to go home for the night. They’ll wake up with a fever tomorrow and think this was nothing but a dream, if they remember it at all.”

“Why did you do this?” Simeon asks quietly. He doesn’t sound angry or disapproving, but simply curious. There’s always a purpose for everything the Archangel does.

Michael faces Simeon and grasps his shoulders. “Is my generosity not enough? You both work so hard in the name of the Celestial Realm.” He leans closer to Simeon’s ear. “And we don’t have to fall for the things we want.”

He steps back and adjusts his robes, inwardly pleased by the contemplative expression on Simeon’s face. “Take care of our little lamb until I can arrange a formal visit for them. I trust that you can handle everything else from here.”

Simeon and Raphael lower their heads. “Yes, Michael,” they reply in unison, eyes downcast to the floor until the Archangel disappears in a golden flash of Celestial magic.

Obey Me! Masterlist

947 notes · View notes

khuzena · 1 year

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✎Regret, love and death

Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser x g/n!reader

Summary: The bllk boys break up with you not knowing you're terminally ill and they meet you again but this time you're dying right in front of them.

Warning: Angst, no fluff, breakup and breakdown, death, grief

A/n: this is super cliche ik but this has been on my mind for months now, it's time i actually write about it. Listening to ditto while making this. I tried to make it g/n so bear with me

Itoshi Rin

"Stay in the middle, like you a little"

Itoshi Rin who left you months ago after a stupid argument he wishes he could've prevented. He tells himself that he doesn't need you anymore and that he'll never open up his heart again.

Itoshi Rin who gets mad when he sees happy couples, he swears it's anger and jealousy but it's mostly confusion and betrayal. He believed that it was your fault that he became this vulnerable but he willingly gave his heart to you.

Being a professional athlete like Itoshi Rin it's common to regularly get some injuries here and there so he visits the hospital.

He waited patiently right outside his clinic, an earbud in one ear and he listened to the environment around him. Squeaky wheelchairs, cries from a hospital room nearby and patients conversing in daily chit-chat. The line at the clinic was taking too long so he decided he'll go next time; but something caught his eye. The soles of his shoes clack on the marble floor at the empty hallway and the music he's listening to but he hears the faint beating of a heart monitor. Then, he sees your name in one hospital room.

He couldn't believe his eyes. There was a folder attached loosely on the door, your name written in lazy cursive and numerous descriptions he couldn't understand. Rereading and rereading the name on the folder over and over again, his eyes narrowed as he decided to look over to the glass window at the door; he saw you. Rin doesn't understand why you were here and why the folder was marked "terminal— confined" . The writings are too messy for him to understand but his heart beats loudly through his body like a gong.

He tries to convince himself it's probably someone else but he knew you too much to know that the one stuck in that wrinkly hospital bed was you.

He has to go, he has to but he doesn't. He takes a deep breath and opens the door. You open your eyes as you realize your peace was disturbed from the loud creaking of the door. You scrunch your nose and blink your eyes as you take a look at the figure standing at the side of your bed, it was Rin.

"You… why are you here?" He whispered, you could barely hear him but he stared down at you with pity, anger, grief— you don't know.

"I should be the one asking you that." Your voice was muffled by the oxygen mask strapped to your head as you sat yourself up and looked up to him, he tried to avoid your gaze as he looked over to the IVs inserted into your wrists, wires everywhere he was sure he almost stepped on one.

Rin furrowed his brows in irritation, all this pent up anger from the break up bursting all at once, "What the fuck happened to you?"

You gave him a weak smile, "A week before we broke up… I was diagnosed with a heart disease. I couldn't tell you what happened to me, then we fought but I was too scared and stressed I broke things off."

Rin breathes raggedly, fear and guilt flooding his senses; wondering why he was such an idiot to leave you.

"Will you get better?"

You smile again at his stupidity, you know he's seen the document attached at the door saying 'patient in hospice' but Rin wants to hear it from you, he wants you to confirm his thoughts. Maybe even deny it so he'll feel better. You feel tears drip down your arm as you watch him shaken like he's seen a ghost.

"I won't, so go now."

Rin wants to pour out all his emotions, everything welling up inside his heart— the thoughts brewing in the depths of his heart that ate him alive from the time you were seperated but he holds himself back.

His knees buckled and his strength prior to this incident dissipated into nothing as he held onto his remaining resolve. Like the coward he always was, he leaves and never comes back… but he will come back to you eventually; with a chrysanthemum in hand this time and a fresh black suit he picked out.

Itoshi Sae

"Don't want no riddle, Say it, Say it back"

Itoshi Sae who visits Japan for the first time in months, only going back to renew his passport.

It wasn't his intention to pass by your old friend group in public, he eavesdropped on their mindless conversation then they started talking about you.

Itoshi Sae listens to their conversation, getting some details about you. Hearing that you got confined somewhere and that there was no one to take care of you other than the nurses and hospice workers stationed at your room.

Itoshi Sae who tries to keep that newfound information out of his mind but the thought of you being confined in a hospital is making his heart race. Not in love nor from the butterflies he used to get when talking to you— no. He couldn't stop thinking of you. He promised to himself to never interact with you, avoid every single thing that reminded him of you but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Itoshi Sae who visits the hospital and asks where you are, pretending that he was a visitor to the nurses was easier than he thought.

"Are you asking about that patient?"

He nodded, the nurse was stupid enough to fall for his charms as she sent him the directions to your room. Sae knows what dangerous game he's playing, if he comes back to you again then it defeats the purpose of avoiding you forever like he promised himself but he still goes.

It was a nice afternoon, birds chirping and he saw little children from the nursery running around in the hallways with toys in their hands. He mentally prepared himself for what he was about to see, turning away from your hospital room for a moment before entering.

His eyes softened for a moment when he laid his eyes on you, you were reading a book— an eerie one at that. Sae raised an eyebrow when he noticed that you didn't hear him enter, what if you were deliberately ignoring him? He was sure you were but he didn't catch your attention until he stepped closer to your bed, a shadow looming over you as you slowly looked up to him.

The two of you stare at each other for what it felt like forever, he's still looking at you like that. Love in his irises but there's a tint of melancholy.

You could see Sae saying something to you, you tried to read his lips but his words fell on deaf ears.

Sae was getting irritated on why you didn't respond but you took the white board that was resting on your bedside table. He patiently watched you write something on the board, clack, clack, clack.

'Im deaf. I can't hear you.'

Just months ago you were fine but he gets more ill with worry when his mind starts to drift and wonder what could've happened to you when he left you here all alone.

You erased the writing on the board, giddily like a child as you handed him the board next, signaling him to also write you something.

The athlete hesitated for a moment before grabbing the board off your hands, writing something hastily. He feels like if he wasted any more time he'll lose everything— but he knew that he already did the moment when he called it quits months ago.

'What happened', he wrote on the board, streaks of ink staining his palm but that's the least of his worries.

You sat up in a more comfortable position before opening the drawer, taking a clipboard, medical documents clipped to the board. Sae reads the papers, his throat starts burning and he feels tears building up in his eyes. He flips through the papers, information about your condition printed on the tiny pieces of paper as he reads through everything.

You couldn't understand what he was muttering under his breath but you were sure it was something… the way he bit his lip to hold back the tears and the way his hands got sweaty as he scanned the board.

Sae loved many things, you, soccer, coffee and the beach. There was something about hospitals that made him uneasy. Hospitals correlated to injury and death— a big no no for him. But as an athlete, a pro one at that it's not surprising that he regularly visits the hospital for nutrition advice or medicine. Though… this one was his worst visit yet. He told himself that he won't ever cry or love you again, that's why it's 'Sae loved' but he realizes he still loves you. Even though you're stuck on the hospital bed, sickly and dying, your arms littered with scars from the tubes that go in and out your skin and maybe the way you look so frail and skinny now compared to what you looked like months ago; he still loves you. He realized that in this moment he's always going to be looking for you the way you pathetically looked for him in the hospital, wishing he was there after you two broke up.

At least now the gods were merciful enough to grace you with his presence for the last time, even in this situation you still smiled at him like he deserved to see that again.

Itoshi Sae who visits you again tomorrow before you pull off the plug, Pain plastered on his face as he holds you tightly. He broke his promise.

To you, to never hurt you.

To himself, to never love you again.

Michael Kaiser

"Oh say it ditto, Can't wait till the morning, So say it ditto"

Michael Kaiser pretends he's fine after the break up and to distract himself from the pain, he dates other people— looking for someone who can fill the void you carved in his heart, looking for you.

Michael Kaiser who still wears the cardigan you bought him, giving him solace and comfort when he curls up in his bed alone, wishing you were there with him.

You and Kaiser didn't break up on bad terms, more like a confusing and neutral breakup. He told you he was done and you didn't beg him to stay, after all he neglected you for his selfish desires. He's like an icarus who has flown too close to the sun, his ego representing the melting wax wings of icarus— it burned your skin and melted your patience.

Michael Kaiser still stalks you in his other account you forgot that existed. He wouldn't admit it but he patiently waited for an update on your account.

Michael Kaiser who stalks your account and finally sees something. Your parents' post talking about you being stuck in the hospital.

Michael Kaiser doesn't cry, he can't. Images on the posts ingraining— burning itself in the deepest parts of his brain then it triggers something in him. Confusion.

He doesn't know the exact details of your situation but he's too curious to scroll past the post.

Michael Kaiser who gets a cab and arrives at your hospital, like a man with no shame he looks for your room.

It was nighttime and the hospital was uncannily quiet, he wasn't sure why but the guard was doing a terrible job at guarding the entrance of the hospital. Kaiser walks past the sleepy guard, ignoring the thumping sound of the guard falling on the floor as he makes his way to the lady on the desk.

"What brings you in here, sir?"

He pushes up his glasses, "I'm looking for my lover, [patient name]", he says boldly, lying through his teeth but he knows it's the only way they'll let him in.

"Give me a minute," the nurse starts flipping through the hospital log book, "They're at room 405, third floor."

Kaiser nods, thanking the nurse as he takes the elevator.

'ding' Kaiser enters the elevator, checking his watch while waiting for it to arrive at the third floor. The elevator was dimmed and it looked like a scene straight from horror movies, another old lady in a wheelchair strolls to the elevator.

"What's a handsome young man like you doing in the dead of the night here?" The grandma says in a hoarse voice, grey hairs covering her face as she holds onto both her wheelchair and fruits.

Though Kaiser is an asshole, a liar, he naturally had a soft spot for children and the elderly. "I'm here for my… lover" he doesn't know what gave it away but the older woman noticed the hesitance in his voice.

The grandma nodded at his reply, 'ding!'

"I guess this is my stop." Kaiser stepped out of the elevator, waving goodbye to the elderly woman and ambled in the hallway.

The scent of disinfectant invaded his nostrils, though the smell gets more diverse as he passes by different hospital rooms. He hears people screaming and crying at the room to his left and the other room dead silent, as if a corpse inhabited the room to his right.

Sweat starts trickling down his forehead when he counts the hospital room's numbers and realizes he's getting closer to yours. 'shit, shit, shit' his mind spiralling into madness, anxiety as he braces himself for what he's about to see.

His legs started to feel like jelly as his feet dragged him in front of your hospital room. A feeling of uncertainty, something he never felt again after breaking up with you.

Months ago when you two broke up he wondered if maybe you'd crawl back to him, like a child who ran away but comes home again the day after, but you didn't.

The door pulled open as he made his way inside, the lights were turned off but the sound of humming took him by surprise.

"I can hear you, you know."

Oh, that voice. That voice that could soothe him on days like these, your voice so gentle he thinks it's a sweet melody, a lullaby so sweet it would bring the devil down on his knees begging and repenting for forgiveness if he ever heard your voice.

The German boy doesn't come forward, only staring at your disheveled figure on the bed, waiting for death themselves to take you away from your misery.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Your fingers traced the lamp before finding the switch, making a flick sound as the soft illuminating glow lights up the room. You nod as you sit up, hugging yourself as you find comfort in the bandages that wrapped around your body.

"I'm sorry." It was the first time he's ever said this to you in ages, he wished he said this to you back then, he wishes that he was there for you.

Maybe he was the devil, cruel and mean, strong yet so weak. His knees buckled as he let out a choked sob, his fears that builded up couldn't hold in much longer as tears streamed down his face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kaiser says in between his sobs, the prideful man being broken down into a pathetic, crying mess.

Your fingers fiddled together in anxiety, you always had that stupid habit of yours when in distress. As much as you couldn't forgive Kaiser— he's too weak, too vulnerable for you to ignore.

Still Kaiser was shameless but not too shameless to go even a few inches closer to your bed, his mind racing— thinking that everything is all his fault as his heart rate goes up.

"Why should I? We're not even together." His chest tightens, if anyone could see him right now they'd think he's a fucking idiot— crying over the dying lover he left to rot in the hospital? Piece of shit.

"Yeah I know." He tries to calm himself down but he knows it's useless when you pick up on his uneasy behavior.

Kaiser wanted to ask you, 'let's get back together?' or maybe 'please forgive me' because he's a shameless prick but it's the first time he doesn't let his pride take over his senses.

He grieves right in front of you, your eyes never leaving his as his body language is signaling you, begging you to say something but it's better that you didn't.

He has all the time in the world to grieve for you after all, he's a shameless, selfish man… isn't he?

Notes: hell nah i'm sorry if there was so many grammar mistakes and stuff this isn't really proofread and i'm thinking of opening requests so like uh what do you guys think should i open requests

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

#blue lock fanfic #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #bllk angst #bllk fluff #blue lock ansgt #michael kaiser x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae angst #itoshi rin angst #michael kaiser #what have i done #go girl give us nothing #blue lock fluff #✎♡Zena's thoughts~

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kuroshika · 1 year

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[ sorbet, 01×07 - long analysis below the cut. ] || [ tags: @lesbian-hannibal @shatteredlesbian @7x16pm ] || [ tumblr has refused to post this twice now and im giving up after this attempt. ]

—————

this episode, we're introduced to franklyn. he seems like a one-off side character who introduces us to the next villain, but his character seems to be a little bit more than that. he's eager to be hannibal's friend, and the rejection he feels when hannibal pushes those professional boundaries is a reflection of hannibal's actions towards will.

franklyn finds hannibal interesting. he thinks they'd be great friends, and is actively trying to form a relationship. this is a direct mirror of how hannibal feels about will — he finds will interesting, and thinks they'd be great friends, so he's actively trying to push will's professional boundaries. this rejection that franklyn feels is the same that hannibal feels.

hannibal's pause and redirection here is interesting. though he may not be getting paid for will's visits, it definitely might be sad to think that will is only seeing him as mandated - it makes hannibal upset that will sees him only because he has to (as shown when poor hannibal sits in his office and pouts when will is late for his session near the end of the episode).

he has intimate knowledge of will, and wants to be his friend because of it - an opposite (but reflection) of franklyn's attempts to be his friend. looking at franklyn, speaking to him, is sort of like speaking to himself. franklyn seems to be a less fine-tuned version of hannibal.

"tobias is my best friend, but i am not tobias's best friend". this sounds pretty similar to our weak relationship with will — hannibal sees will as his friend, will doesn't see hannibal as his friend, and will did take a higher interest in the ripper (and by extension, hannibal). i think here is where hannibal begins to realize the parallel between franklyn and tobias's relationship, and his and will's, as observed by the question he asks. "have you put him on a pedestal?"

in recognizing the reflection of the relationship he's chasing with will, hannibal is using his own therapy for himself - things make more sense when you tell someone else about them, out loud. he can help himself under the guise of helping franklyn if all goes to plan - and it does. franklyn agrees that he does, but also that he (and tobias) hold hannibal on a higher pedestal.

"i am a source of stability and clarity, franklyn, not your friend". this is the first time in the show hannibal adamantly refuses that he's someone's friend. he does the chasing, not the running. having such a reflection approach him to further their already precarious relationship is nothing but a problem.

franklyn assures him that he'd be a great friend, before swiftly changing the subject. the michael jackson tangent seems kinda kooky, and i skipped over it on my first watch-through, but i think i can make some deeper connections now. "you know what i think makes me the most sad about him dying? i will never get to meet him". ever since hannibal was introduced to will (or, rather, the exterior of his mental curtains), he's known there was something lurking beneath the surface. he's taken it as his mission to draw whatever will hides behind those curtains out, to see underneath his mask — to show him his becoming (as referenced in 1×05 "coquilles", when the angel maker tells will "i couldn't bring it out of you," to which will agrees "not all the way" (which feels like a callback to 1×02 "amuse-bouche", when hannibal only manages to draw will out half-way and have him admit that he enjoyed killing hobbs), and the angel maker offers "i can give you your becoming".). hannibal knows that the longer he waits to approach will, the closer the shadow behind the curtains comes to being repressed completely — the closer it comes to dying, in hannibal's mind, dying before he can meet him.

franklyn obviously has a savior complex, yet another reflection of hannibal — as shown in his prolific identity as a surgeon, and his tableaus as the ripper. his words are very familiar to hannibal, who feels that if will allows him to be his friend, he could stop him from killing part of himself. hannibal can see the correlation and prompts him on gently — how is franklyn's efforts returned? how will his own be returned?

franklyn's fantasy ends with him being the one to touch greatness, very much how hannibal's ends with him getting close to will — whom he already knows is great. he gets to be the one who draws will out into the light, he gets to be the one who sees will for who he truly is. he gets to touch greatness.

skipping over bedelia and hannibal's visit (mostly because i have a longer analysis for that scene and im already rambling), we cut to hannibal and will.

here we have hannibal, yet again, asking if they're friends. usually, will is unhesitant in assuring him they aren't, but here, it's a little different. he's gotten too familiar with whatever relationship he and hannibal have, and that part of him behind the curtains strains for more. if he says they are, there's a sense of intimacy that will isn't prepared for (especially not with someone he can't feel). if he says they aren't, however, he feels like he'll lose that sense of codependency they have. hannibal won't need him, won't want his company any longer (though it's reassured in 1×08 "fromage" that he appreciates his company). he'll be a professional curiosity— the same thing he is to alana (as, again, instated in 1×08).

so, instead he says yes to both. in agreeing that their relationship is not professional (and establishing their friendship), will is avoiding that sense of intimacy that comes with being someone's friend while still profiting off of their codependent relationship.

will reasserts control of the conversation by assuring that they're just having conversations. hannibal has been established as will's friend, and asserts himself as will's friend here — by repeating that he is a friend, and reminding will that the two share an intimate bond that has begun to blur the line between friendship and family.

whether will likes it or not, he's established that he's hannibal's friend. he's already intertwined with hannibal in a way that no one else is — he can feel the ripper strain under hannibal's person suit (or, as bedelia more aptly calls it this episode, his veil). he can sense what hannibal is, and part of him wants to get closer and wrap itself around whatever lays beyond the veil. i think this scene also offers the tipping point for hannibal's qualms about murdering franklyn — they are nothing alike anymore. will is his friend. the chase is over. he cannot help himself by helping franklyn - his death will be no loss.

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galaxynajma · 1 month

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I had the funniest realization

Kaiser if he was real would be almost the picture perfect man for me in the eyes of my mom

I’m saying almost since the blue dyed long hair the tattoos and the red liner might be a turn off for her but besides that he’s perfect!

He’s white has blonde hair blue eyes first name is Michael

But the most important thing is the fact that he’s a football player

And if Kaiser actually does join Re Al ( which is inspired by Real Madrid) then that would just be the cherry on top

And you know what’s the funny part? I remember the time my mother came up to me and jokingly said " I want you to marry a football player from Spain "…. HUH!!?? WHAT??!

Why can’t she just have said to me to marry a doctor or something like how almost every parent does

Anyways just know that every time I say something unhinged about Kaiser or Sae somewhere in the far corner of my brain is remembering that moment of my life

And honestly? After years of her saying that to me .. I think I get it now..👀

#blue lock #bllk #WHY WOULD SHE SAY THAT TO ME #Bluelock #michael kaiser #kaiser michael #bllk kaiser #kaiser blue lock #sae itoshi #itoshi sae

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kitorin · 11 months

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paper flowers

makes them for you ! (fails miserably)

saw a tiktok / instagram reel of someone making them for their boyfriend, immediately wanted to give it a go and amaze you, so he rushes to the nearest craft store, buying any paper products that have your favourite colour and shades. he's really ambitious about this project; he extensively researches bouquets and searches the internet for origami tutorials to recreate the prettiest bouquets, except one thing. he can't do origami for shit. he's never even succeeded in even making a simple crane, or the basic arts and crafts from kindergarten. as he struggles with even just pre-creasing, his panic nurtures as well, sweat trickling down his forehead and realizing this was a lot harder than expected. he's a professional soccer player yet he still can't fold paper as instructed. no youtube tutorial or origami book can save him and whatever he managed to create. he's a stuttering mess when you walk into the abomination he's created, all red and embarrassed when you giggle at his efforts of impressing you

isagi yoichi, kunigami rensuke, kurona ranze, zantetsu tsurugi, tokimitsu aoshi, oliver aiku

makes them for you, and is amazing at it

absolutely despised how you looked and how he felt when you noticed that the flowers he got you were beginning to wilt, that's when he decided to make paper ones so you'll never have to be disappointed about his flowers dying again. in fact he chooses the bouquet that had wilted away to recreate, finds out the exact name of each flower and a respective origami tutorial for each one. he's a perfectionist; a squash fold wasn't executed seamlessly? he now has a new sheet of paper. pre-crease wasn't strong enough? in the bin it goes (don't worry he's environmentally friendly and recycles everything). hours, days, even weeks are dedicated to this ambitious project of his, you, his perfect lover deserves the most perfect flowers. to top it off he attaches a little note, with his best handwriting, saying "i will love you til the day these flowers wilt away." a prideful smirk appears on his lips when he sees your joyful reaction to the gift, and he plans to make more in the future. (also becomes a hobby and a nice way to destress for him)

itoshi rin, yukimiya kenyu, barou shouei, otoya eita, chigiri hyoma, karasu tabito

makes them with you

proposes making flowers together after the ones that he got you had withered away, buys paper with both of your favourite shades and colours, and researches tutorials for all the flowers you love. hours are spent in your living room, carefully observing youtube videos and laughing together at your mistakes and realizations. it becomes a new pastime for him, even after this project he still offers to learn more origami together. they're not particularly amazing at origami, you aren't either, but neither of you care, it's what you made together.

hiori yo (but he'd be really good at it), julian loki, nanase nijiro, raichi jingo

he doesn't make them, you make them for him

flowers never meant shit to them. he's received them all his life for his achievements, their monetary value was non existent to them and he finds it stupid to purchase something that just withers away eventually. so when you gift them a bouquet of origami flowers, he's literally smitten. your flowers can't compare to all the extravagant bouquets he's received, yours were arranged with effort and created with love, that can't compare to money in any way. he basically worships these flowers, keeps them in his display case with his soccer trophies (heck he'd move some out to make space for it), because to him your flowers are just as valuable, in fact, probably even more. he really doesn't care if you're amazing at origami or can barely fold a crane, no matter how your flowers turned out he'd still treasure them.

itoshi sae, michael kaiser, mikage reo

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1-800-sin · 1 year

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QUEEN .....!!! ; Seeing that your request was open, I came here immediately, can I request Michael, Fredy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Bo, Vincent, charles lee ray and Lester. With s/o who have high sex, and are always spoiled by s/O 🥺will always do anything and obey their wishes so then s/o can have sex.

You can think I'm a pervert, you can also ignore my strange request. I really like your story everything is so perfect. Don't forget to take care of your health ❤ and drink lots of water so you don't get dehydrated. Have a good day

Omg I just saw this!! I almost missed it 😭😭😭. But omg ofc. Sorry this took so long(I’m not even sure how long it took tbh) as a bonus for me almost missing your request I included some kinks and aftercare hc’s. <3

Slashers with a s/o with a high sex drive

Warnings: nsfw(obvi), descriptions of sex, some ooc(I think😅), gender neutral terms,

Michael Myers(any)

At first he doesn’t understand the appeal of sex. He spent his entire teenage years in a mental institution. Didn’t have much time to explore his own body or desires. But after much begging(and him coming to the conclusion it means a lot to you) he decides to try it. What could go wrong right? Remember how I said he didn’t get to go trough his basic teenage hormone faze? You’ve made him hyper sexual. Of course he’s gonna be selfish with it, and you will get little to no control. But he’s come to the realization he likes sex. You better bet he’s rough with it too. He’s definitely a pain/masochism kinda guy. You offer to integrate blood or knives in the mix?(even if its fake) He’s into it. Again with the roughness, choking, degrading(this man doesn’t even need words to be degrading). He’s defo the type to fuck you until you cry. Aftercare isn’t really his strong suit. If you pass out or can’t walk to the bathroom yourself he’ll clean you up(he ain’t a condom man, ain’t got no patience). Of course if you comment on it he’ll deny it.

Freddy Krueger

My personal feeling about this man are mixed. He’s definitely a torture kinda guy. Like either denying your orgasm over and over. Edging you until you can’t think. Or making you cum over and over until the same result. His sex drive is also exponentially high so your made for each other. His whole dream power has definitely been used to make you have wet dreams. Even to just manipulate you Into wanting sex. A bondage guy. I can see it. He’d enjoy the thrill of you not being able to do anything as he tortures you. Aftercare isn’t great with him either. He’ll wipe you down and let you cuddle him(because any physical contact is physical contact enough for him).

Bo Sinclair

It has been established that Bo is no amateur. He’s a sex guy. When he discovers your high sex drive he’s thrilled. Counters, bedrooms, showers, public bathrooms, nowhere is safe. He’s into just about everything you can think of but some that stick out, oral(receiving mostly), roughness in general, you being loud, PRAISE. He will never admit it, to his dying breath. But this man lives for your praise and your sounds. It lets him know that he’s making you feel good. He may act like a self centred asshole(and sometimes he is) but he’s also always looking out for your pleasure. After care with him is surprisingly adequate. He knows he can be rough. And after sex he’ll run you a hot bath and join you(if you’d prefer that of course). He’ll let you sleep on top of him and the next day he’ll make you food.

Vincent Sinclair

He’s the KING of giving oral. Loves making you feel good more than anything. Also a massive vouyer(enjoys watching you touch yourself). He has tunnels in the walls for a reason. And my man can multitask. You can be horny, whining and begging for him to ruin you, and he can use one hand to do just that while he uses the other to do his sketches.(I headcannon he’s ambidextrous). He’s definitely the type to lick his fingers after you cum for him. Like he does it so casually. Aftercare with this man is HEAVEN. He’s so touch deprived you can count on cuddles and showers of kisses(and literal showers too). A worrier. Will ask over and over if he was too rough. And he can be ROUGH. Like face red with tears of pleasure, legs numb. Especially if you decided to be bratty with him.

Lester Sinclair

Much like Vincent he is also a worrier. But the whole time. Unlike Vince he can’t multitask as simply. But k GUARANTEE the moment you mention how your feeling he has dropped everything and is ready to please you. He’s like a puppy staring at you, waiting for instruction. Once he gets an idea of what you want he’s getting straight to work. He’s defo a chest guy. Don’t matter if you have boobs or not. He will watch for any reaction that you make, any spots on your body that warrant specific sounds or bodily reactions from you when he touches them. After a while he knows your body better then you do. He can be rough if you want him to but prefers to be gentle and thorough. He’s also an aftercare-aholic. Will hold you and smother you until you have to physically push him away(but why would you need to am I right?).

Jason Voorhees

As MANY people have stated, his feelings about sex are mixed. It was something the camp leaders who let him die participated in, and that was bad. But it was also something you clearly valued and you weren’t bad. You are the love of us life. Once he gets over the idea of it being sinful, he can RAIL. Like you can’t expect me to believe a guy his size doesn’t pound hard. When he sees your reactions to him for the first time he’s concerned. But when he learns it’s because he’s making you feel good he needs to hear and feel it again. Definitely more of a vanilla guy, but he’s good at it. Aftercare is amazing. His momma always taught him to treat his partner right. He’ll even take time off from hunting down the intruders of the camp to cuddle you and hold you close. He’s not small. That can be agreed on. That’s also something he knows. So he wants you to be okay. Besides, you come first. Always.

Omg Jesus. I hope this is okay or what you wanted. I didn’t do Charles specifically because I don’t know like ANYTHING abt him. I hope this doesn’t sound rushed or anything. Thanks for reading, take care loves<3

#slashers #slashers x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #x reader #bo sinclair #x gender neutral reader #jason voorhees #slasher smut #michael myers #freddy krueger #request

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longtallglasses · 6 months

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“I’m gay,” he blurts out suddenly, because if this is how his life is going and he’s gonna die in the next 12 hours he at least needs to let Mike know that.

“What?!” Mike whips around so hard he almost loses all balance and falls to the ground. He catches himself thankfully right before he does.

“I’m gay,” Will says again when Mike is in front of him. Mike’s eyes widen and his mouth falls open just a bit. Will doesn’t feel any emotion to his confession at all, it’s not news to him obviously, but whenever he imagined finally telling this to Mike he thought it would feel so dramatic. That it would feel like he was ripping open a part of himself, but given everything it feels like he’s just letting Mike know what his star sign is.

Mike however looks like he’s gonna have an aneurysm. He’s short circuited. He’s dumbfounded. Will is honestly a little surprised this is so shocking to him like did he never even consider-

“Uh-.. uh I know.” Mike stumbles on his words like bambi.

Wait what?

“What do you mean you know?”

“Uh, that I know… I know you’re- you’re gay.” Mike stammers out like he’s never said the word in his life.

“Did Lucas tell you?” Will accuses. He doesn’t want to think about the state that Lucas must be in but if he told Mike anything…

“No! Wait, Lucas knows?”

“Yeah, I told him. How do you know?”

“Well, I..” Mike struggles, “I just assumed… No! Not that I assumed, I just inferred.” Mike rubs a hand over his face, “Well, you know, I figured it out, kind of… like I just realized you didn’t really like girls, which is okay! I mean I get it girls are whatever… but then you know how obsessed you were with George Michael… well I just put two and two together and-”

“Ok, Ok,” Will stops him there, “how long have you known then?”

“I don’t know.. Um, like since last year?”

Will lets out an internal sigh of relief. Ok, he can work with that. He would’ve thought it was earlier given when Mike had started to stand farther and farther away from him, this trip excluded for obvious reasons.

“And you’re cool with it?” I mean he has to be at least pretty cool with it if he’s with him here right now.

“Of course! Of course I’m cool with it, I lo- I- I, you’re- you’re perfect.” Mike settles on and Will sees the look of strained cringe Mike just can’t disguise, and he can’t help but laugh at how utterly ridiculous and pathetic his best friend is.

Mike chuckles at himself too. Sheepishly running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, you know what I mean..”

Will forces himself to not laugh in his face any longer, at least they can still do this. He might be dying soon and a ghost of a witch might be after them and their friends, but this can still feel nice.

“Yeah I do, it’s okay. You’re perfect too.” He still blushes as he says it even if it's supposed to be half a joke. The huge megawatt smile that blooms across Mike’s face after he says it is pretty worth it though.

Mike tries to tamper it down by looking away and clearing his throat, but he’s not too successful, so Will helps him out.

“Let’s, uh, let’s get this stuff up,” he says to break the moment, and Mike is happy to spring to action to not talk about this anymore.

from my blair witch project wip mostly spoiler free lol things are getting spooky but you gotta come out to your crush before you die...

#byler #byler fanfic #bylerween2023 #mike wheeler #will byers #blair witch project #stranger things #writing #longtallglasses #my blair witch

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ultrainstinctslasher · 2 years

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RZ!Michael Myers x GN!Nurse!Obession Part 2

Warnings: slight violence, death

Note: Thank you for all the support on the first part; I really appreciate it! Finally, part 2 has arrived. Feel free to send in requests, I'm bored as hell. (This is a threat)

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Once you accepted the mask Michael gave you, you had practically sealed your future. Your future with him, that is.

If you had thought Michael was clingy before, he's a hundred times worse now.

Before, he would try not to let his infatuation with you all too obvious, especially when it came to Dr. Loomis, since it made him feel vulnerable. But now, he made sure everyone knew not to mess with you.

In his own twisted way, Michael had become your boyfriend of sorts. Not that you knew, of course.

At this point, Dr. Loomis realized what was going on, and honestly didn't know what to do.

He could either leave you to care for him, which could lead to unknown and possibly dangerous outcomes. Or he could fire you, which would most likely lead to even worse outcomes.

But you were breaking the rules by being in a relationship with one of the patients, albeit unknowingly.

So, for once, Loomis decided to do the sensible thing, and fired you.

It had taken you by surprise, and to say you were heartbroken was an understatement.

Although both difficult and odd to admit, you had grown attached to the giant during the time you had taken care of him. It was clear no one had treated him the proper way, the way you treated him, with the way he had grown so attached to you, and it pained you knowing no one would ever treat him like that again.

Yes, he has hurt people, but they'd obviously done something to aggravate him, although you didn't know what.

And during the time you spent with him, you had learned all his small ways of showing emotions. The gleam in his eyes when he was proud, the slight wrinkle next to his eyes when he was happy, as if smiling, the slight twitch in his fingers when annoyed. It was clear no one put in effort to understand him, or else they wouldn't have been calling him an emotionless monster.

If you were heartbroken, then Michael was absolutely destroyed. Thoughts ran through his head like a train. 'Did they leave me?' "Did I do something wrong?' 'Did they get hurt?' 'Are they coming back?'

It wasn't until he overheard two members of staff talking about how Dr. Loomis fired you for no apparent reason that he figured what happened.

As soon as he realized you weren't coming back, Michael completely flipped.

Or, he would've, if he hadn't taken a moment to think first.

This was all Loomis' fault after all, and he needed to get his revenge. If he were to leave now, he might never get to him.

So, Michael waited. And he didn't wait for long.

He refused to eat, leave or even move for what seemed like days, and he knew his beloved doctor would soon come to check in on him.

And come and check in on him did the doctor do.

But Michael knew better, he still refused to move while the two security guards were in the room. Loomis knew that as well.

Once security left the room, Loomis began to talk.

"I understand you're upset, Michael."

No, you don't

"But what you're doing is irrational."

I can do what I want

"I can't have you dying, Michael."

It's not like you care, you want me to die

"And all this over some nurse..."

No, they weren't. They weren't just some nurse.

In a second, Michael had Loomis in a deathly grip against his desk. He squeezed hard enough that Loomis couldn't make a sound, apart from the pitiful 'please' that left his lips.

Michael watched with sadistic glee as the life of his former doctor was fading from his eyes.

While he didn't usually feel anything while murdering his victims, he felt exceptionally pleased while eliminating the man that got in the way of him and his beloved nurse

The thought of letting Loomis live, fully aware that he would come after him and provide him another chance to kill of him, was taken into consideration. That way, he could play around with him more.

But the thought of what he did overruled it. Anyone who does anything remotely negative to you should be disposed of immediately

Once he was sure that Loomis was dead, he turned around to the slightly agape door where the two security guards stayed oblivious to their impending doom.

He was coming for you

___________

You were coming home from your new job, a cashier (you won't believe how annoying it is to downgrade from a literal nurse to a fucking cashier), when you felt a sudden chill down your spine.

You quickly turned around to find the source of the watchful eyes you felt on your back, only to be met with nothing.

It was late at night, and you weren't about to risk being robbed or worse.

So, you ran back home as fast as you could, and yet, even in the safety of your home, you still felt like you were in the proximity of danger

The alarms in your head started blaring once you heard a creak coming from further inside the house, yet you didn't move.

When it came to fight or flight, you froze, which of course as a horrible thing to do

You stood still as a familiar silhouette came into your view, practically filling up the door frame

"M-Michael?"

You hadn't got any verbal response, but a head tilt was all the confirmation you needed.

A part of you wanted to run up and hug him, but the better part of you was still wary of the harm he could bring you

Although you had learned to completely trust Michael, the blood soaking his patient uniform was just a little off putting

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Michael began to slowly walk towards you, as if cautious

Once he finally reached you, he slowly reached his large hand out to your face

Hesitantly, he began to lightly caress it, much to your surprise

Looking up, you lock eyes with Michael, and everything seems to click in place

Why he would only eat from your hand, why he only responded to you, why he killed those security guards, why he gave you that mask

You couldn't believe it took you so long, but as you stood there in the dark with Michael slowly, yet lovingly, caressing your face, you finally realized it

You were his obsession. His nurse. And he would make sure of it.

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michaellangdonswhore · 1 year

Note

request: when daddy michael basically grabbed his dick when he says “a man such as myself”. now when I see that all I can think about is you walking in on him pleasuring himself. he looks at you right in the eyes and keeps going and you help him

warnings: smutish

word count: 557

a/n: I've gotten sooooo many requests like these so I'm gonna combine all of them.

------------------------------------------------------------

It was her quiet, mythical essence.

That's what drew him to her in the first place.

The way she sat, fidgeting across from him as he interrogated her. The anxious picking at her nails. She was so light and heavenly. God, he wanted to ruin her.

He would knock on her door, asking for a second interview. She would be in her rose nightgown which makes her look so fuckable.

He'd lead her down the hallway and into his office before shutting the door. He'd get her all anxious, asking perverted sex-related intimidating questions. She would get all flushed and wouldn't know what to say- or what to do.

The idea of feeling her body- her angel-like body. She looks like she has the smoothest skin and the best-smelling scent. He has never met anyone who is this breathtaking.

He would roam her, squeeze and dig his nails into every inch of her while nipping at her neck.

"Tell me, Y/N..." Michael would say, "Tell me how many men you've fucked."

"None, sir." Her shaky voice would respond.

It had to be none.

Michael was able to just tell.

And her calling him sir? That really would get him going.

For now, he's grabbing his cock, moving up and down slowly to tease himself.

He would sink to his knees and devour her pussy while she was bent over his desk. He would feel it pulse against his tongue as she lets out shaky moans.

When she cums- the idea of her cumming makes him jerk his cock faster.

He wants her to cum all over his face and after she does, he takes himself out because he is dying to fuck her at this point. He would shove himself deep into her and fuck her hard immediately- showing no mercy.

She would say it was too much, but he would grab her hair and tug it back gently.

"Aw, you can take it," Michael would coo in her ear. "I know you can, baby. You were made for me."

He's toying with himself quickly now, letting out shaky breaths. He is too infatuated with the thought of fucking Y/N till she cries to realize that his door is slightly open.

As Michael fantasized, Y/N walks past his door; in her defense, it was on the way to her room. She glances for a second while walking by, but then pauses. She slowly moves back towards the door and peaks in for a moment.

Michael was laying on his bead, forehead sweaty, jerking his cock in fast motions.

She moves away from the door.

Oh my God. I'm a creep.

She wonders what to do... if she should shut the door so no one bothers him if she should just walk away, or...

No, Y/N, You can't do that.

"Y/N." She hears Michael say before she jumps and lets out a small gasp. She stays quiet, petrified that he'll do something to her. "Y/N..."

Oh... fuck.

"Yes... fuck." Michael continues. Y/N then peaks back into the room and he's working it even faster now. He rolls his head back, facing his door, and then opens his eyes, making direct contact with Y/N.

He smiles softly and doesn't stop what he's doing, staring directly into Y/N's eyes.

She feels like she can't move, but God she wants him right now.

"Close the door on your way in." He says.

---------------------

I just found this in my drafts from months ago. Idk why I didn't post it. Sorry.

#michael langdon #michael langdon headcannons #michael langdon smut #michael langdon imagines #ahs #ahs apocalypse #ahs smut #american horror story

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chycoin · 2 months

Text

HUGE SPOILER AHEAD!!!

Watch “TRASH FRIENDS” before reading. If you haven’t watched it and still read this, pls don’t say I didn’t warn you 🫠👍

Just watched “TRASH FRIENDS” and the thumbnail really made me think this was going to be an episode focusing on the way Mario has been treated by Smg4 and his friends (at least that’s how I see it) but I wasn’t expecting an episode about Smg3’s insecurities and fears (mostly insecurities)

I really was caught lacking because I was expecting something and I got the opposite lmao. I should be familiar with this guy’s content already and know that the only thing expected from these episodes is the unexpected xD, but anyways back to talking about the video.

In previous episodes we see that he gets a little bit of customers such as in the episode “You used to be cool” and “CEO OF RIZZ” but in this last mentioned episode he tries to advertise his café after Boopkins’s date works out in the end and so does the same in “SMG4’s NEWS.”

At first you think “Maybe he wants more than what he has” but after watching this episode you realize he’s actually struggling with his business and last weeks episode you change your view from his actions and see him as more desperate rather than greedy after watching this latest ep.

Constantly trying to get more people into his café and taking every single chance he can see to advertise no matter the place or time, like life depends on it.

And talking about chances ._.xD

(This goober losing the video to a basketball, I’m dead😭)

Smg4 comes to this guy’s café for his help to get his “Michael Jordan Endorsement Video” back because boi lost it and he wants Smg3’s help because their “FRIENDS”

Of course Smg3 saw this as a chance to advertise his café because HOLY SHIT MICHAEL JORDAD!!! A famous basketball player that anyone would want to have the chance to meet and that’s a chance that Smg3 is willing to take because it means his business would BLOW UP *someone throws them a chair*

Btw when Mario shows up to offer his help, I expected Smg4 to be more happy that he has his avatar buddy always trying to help him but instead…

Don’t get me wrong, I know they got a little weirded out about the fact that Mario is a regular around the Junkyard due to him eating at that location but still, that dialogue still sort of hurt me man qwp

But anyways back to my review of this episode and giving my acoustic povs that nobody asked for.

They arrive at the junkyard and after being there for 5 seconds, they find the legendary pokemon that goes by the name of “Michael Jordan Endorsement Video” (sorry for my weak ass jokes, I just woke up and my humor is a little broken rn)

After having the video on sight, Mario pulls a Yoshi and beats the crap out of the spaghetti plate where the video so happened to land on, in one go. Obviously, causing the other two to try and force the USB out of him but both failed as Mario did a BLJ through the trash and forcing 3 & 4 to dig through everything to find him.

Now… the part I was dying to talk about and hopefully I can let out my thoughts the proper way.

As the two spend an entire evening just digging through trash, they start a friendly conversation until Smg4 touches the Smg3’s CnB topic which causes Smg3 to get nervous and lie about everything being fine because he has something that every human being has unfortunately, ✨I N S E C U R I T I E S✨.

Which I understand because bruh, 3’s been seen as a bad copy of 4 who’s the total opposite of him for a good piece of his life, if not his ENTIRE existence and now that’s he’s going through a change in his life for the better, he’s going to face a lot of these insecurity episodes because he’s so used to being seen as the bad guy, the bad copy, The Villain. Always people seeing what 4 does and never looking what 3 does which got him into that dark path.

Is like the Sun and the Moon kind of thing. The Sun (Smg4) can shine the brightest while the moon (Smg3) is just a floating rock shining the least. I’ll bring this up again at the end of the review.

But yeah, Smg3 has insecurities and is more shown when they reach the entrance of Mario’s hiding spot.

-Part 2 🫠👍-

#smg4 #smg4 review #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #I wasn’t planning for this to be a 2 part thing

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treasureofmammon · 5 months

Note

Random mammon headcannon i want to share

He gets bad nightmares about you dying so sometimes he wakes up in a cold sweat and crying. He normally cleans himself up as he sprints to your room in the middle of the night, needing to know if your ok.

Once he sees you sleeping and alive, he fixes your blanket and sits by your bed, resting his head on the bed as he stares at you. he eventually falls asleep looking at you, you have found mammon sleeping next to your bed multiple times but you he never tells you the real reason he was there

@ezracorner1

First off, I'm sorry. Honestly, I'm still figuring out how Tumblr works and realized late how to see Asks, and then I took my time to respond to you. I hope you can forgive me. I'm on my 20s, but I act like an old woman, apparently. Lol.

I took the liberty to make a short story about thiiiiissss!!!! After all, my sweet demons were on a war, they have some unresolved things to talk about and heal. They are obviously overprotective; so with a sweet little and weak lamb like us, they probably go over the top. I LOVE THE IDEA! Although I HATE the fact they probably live with PTSD, hence where the nightmares come from 😪

✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛

Warnings: Flashbacks and topics related to war and death. Hints to mental illnesses. Obvious attraction, but not an established relationship (yet). Angst at the beginning, but also, tenderness and care. I took some creative liberties since I haven't read some parts of the story (struggling to get UR cards), so some details might change from the OG storyline. Finally, I didn't check the syntaxes of the paragraphs so much. Sorry if some stuff doesn't make a lot of sense.

*I apologize in advance for what y'all might read, I absolutely love to write, but I'm not such a good writer. Lol*

[Note: Mammon x Gn!Neutral reader. Spoilers ahead- English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors - The following characters belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. This is a mere work of fan-fiction. I took some creative liberty].

✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛✨️💛

Nightmares and dreams

Mammon looks at his right, familiar faces, that he once called "siblings", shattering his other loved ones forever. Their comrades and family's expressions suddenly realize that their existence, one that could be eternal, are brought to an abrupt end at that exact moment. And some of them, many even, look at Mammon with despair, lost and afraid of their own death.

His almost extinct battalion, who he commanded, conformed by his little brothers and sisters that he once witnessed brought to life in a blow of Father's breath, forever gone. Some of them he watched grow up, hugged, played, spoiled, and then... trained. Not anymore. No clue will lay in history that they existed, no irrefutable proof of who they were.

Mammon's eyes widen in horror, mouth open in surprise.

He then looks around and catches in a glimpse a spear that falls graceful and fairly as a punisher of the traitors, hovering over Asmodeus, unerring.

—No. Not Asmodeus, not him!—

Mammon runs faster than the light and slides himself with his younger brother in his arms, successfully saving him from the imminent death. Mammon sighs and thinks it's fine now, but immediately, a penetrating scream is heard, and Beel and Belphie shred tears. The time freezes: all of them stop, every single one of the angels stops, the arrows fall to the green grass, and a new flurry of arrows never comes.

—Lilith... No!—.

Lucifer takes her in his arms, but the ground immediately opens, and both fall. Lucifer's wings turn black, and horns come out of his head as he descends in rapid speed; his halo is lost on the battlefield until Michael takes it with him as a prize for nothing.

Mammon follows them without a second thought, loyal as always, worried like the second brother he is, launching himself to a fall to a who-knows-where place.

As he falls, flames consume his body, his wings burn down to his core, his white robe dissipates, his halo turns in ashes and his head throbs in pain while he feels two horns that grow from it. But he doesn't lose sight of Lucifer and of Lilith's face. Except now is not Lilith's is yours.

Mammon loses his mind: the abyss he falls in turns pitch black, swallowing Lucifer and Lilith in his arms. He has a sinking feeling in his gut and screams, not scared of his own life, but scared of Lucifer's, Lilith's, and yours until his slim body finally bursts against the ground. The room is still completely dark. Shyly, he stands up, —Lucifer? Lilith?—, he calls.

Suddenly, a reflector light turns on. You are right below it, lighted up like a star. The yellowish rays touch your silhouette gracefully as if you were an angel yourself. Beautiful. Candid. Endearing.

—MC? —

You turn around to look at him and smile tenderly, like you usually do. His heart melts. For a short moment, his worries dissappear and he smiles back. He walks to you, enchanted by your bright soul.

Until a pair of claws dig in your back. Your scream never heard. In a gasp, you fall to the ground, bloody, and a set of glowing purple eyes withdrawn into the emptiness of the never-ending darkness of the room.

—NO!— Mammon screams and rushes to you, your face now lifeless, while blood scapes your body. He cries your name, but there's no response. Suddenly, a familiar voice chants: —This is your fault! She died because of you!—. A new figure emerges from the blackness.

—Lucifer?—

—No—, finally revealing his identity, —I'm you—. Mammon's own face responds back.

Mammon's eyes open wide suddenly. Awake, gasping and panting, scared, drowned in his own sweat. He sits in his bed and takes his forehead in his hands. A nightmare.

Mammon feels his heart pace altered. And he tries to calm down.

—It was just a nightmare... right? It felt too damn real. They're here, they're just asleep, they ain't death, right?—

Rationally, Mammon knows he had a bad dream, but a part of him drags him to unreality, so he jumps out of bed, leaves his room, and makes his way to yours. On the short path, he takes his shirt off and notices that even his torso is dripping in sweat, but he manages to clean his face with his wet shirt.

Slowly and carefully, he opens the door of your room, still gasping for air, now in a much more stable breathing pace. When the door is open enough, he peeks inside your room, there, you lay in bed tranquil, your face expression at peace, and your chest slowly moving up and down, asleep.

—Thanks Lilith...—, he whispers and lets himself in your room, knowing that once again, as usual after dreaming your passing, he might be violating your space and the sanctity of your placid sleep. But, he does it anyway. You're his human, after all.

Mammon stands for a short while, looking at you, making sure you're real and safe. He fixes your blanket, covering you well. Then, quietly, he drags your desk's chair to your bed's side and sits, watching you dream your own dreams, snoring softly, comfortable, and even happy.

—I love ya—, he whispers and observes you until his eyelids can't stay open, his head resting right next to your hand.

When you wake up in the middle of the night, Mammon is lying right next to you, uncomfortable. You sigh, thinking that it's happening again.

Gently, you reach to his hand, and he wakes up in a jump, confused and scared.

—MC?—

This time, you don't ask a thing. You just pull his hand to you, and he gets the hint, half asleep, not sure if you inviting him to share the bed is another dream that feels too real again or reality itself.

Mammon nuzzles against your chest, and you throw your arms around him after covering him up with your blanket, too; then, you kiss his temple, trying to convey all your emotions in one little peck.

—I have no idea why you do this— you admit, —but I don't mind sharing my bed with you, Mammon; after all, I love you—.

Your love confession, unheard. For now, that's okay, as long as you can hold your best friend and crush on your arms as if you were lovers already.

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heliads · 1 year

Note

Hello, glad I can submit this request then, I barely find any Luke Castellan fics he needs more love 😭

Anyways, I just wanted to request something small like headcannons on what it would be like at the aftermath of the Battle of Manhattan if Luke didn't die, what would he be like and how the reader would help him overcome his trauma or problems ? Just pure fluff is what I'm trying to say ;_;

Sorry if that doesn't make any sense... Please let me know if you don't understand me XD

But thank you so much if you write this <3

i see that you have asked for headcanons but i am so delighted by this request that you get a full fic instead (ily)

masterlist

Luke Castellan is not sure what to do with the fact that he did not die. It would have made for a better ending, he thinks. It was the logical conclusion. He tried to make a better world, and when that failed, he could have been terminated along with that last dream. It is what most people would have decided was best.

Yet Luke opens his eyes– his eyes, not someone else’s, not that awful feeling of having his body belong to some being that was not even human, let alone not him– and he is alive. Luke is not sure yet whether this is good or bad. He’s not sure that anything in this world could remotely fit into those categories anymore.

He stares up at a blank ceiling above, which confuses him. Last time he checked, Luke was dying on the ruined floor of the gods’ throne room. There had still been a roof over his head, but Luke swore that he could see a sky of the deepest blue. Luke had felt himself fall into that wondrous lapis void, and then he had felt nothing at all.

That was supposed to be dying. It was more peaceful than most people would say he deserved, given all the hell Luke wreaked on the world by allying with Kronos. Luke’s supposed ending had certainly not been pretty: a dagger in his hand, stabbed into the one place the immortal waters of the River Styx hadn’t protected him. Achilles’ curse had lifted, and Luke was free of the Titan that had been consuming his body whole.

Yet Luke is staring up at a room that is neither burned nor broken. At first, he wonders if this is what death is like, but he’s heard enough stories of the Underworld to know that it would never be this simplistic. No, this isn’t Death; Luke sits up slowly and manages to fight nausea long enough to realize that he’s back in Camp Half-Blood. Back home, his mind tells him, and Luke has to remind himself that’s not true anymore. He has no home. He has no people, he left them all a very long time ago.

A voice to his side makes Luke whip around.

“I’d sit down if I were you.”

Luke trains his eyes until they slowly, begrudgingly focus on an orange-shirted figure seated next to him. At last, he realizes he recognizes the guy. Will Solace, one of Apollo’s kids. He must have been in charge of bringing Luke back from the dead.

Luke is baffled by the fact that Will is perched here and not Michael Yew, current head of the Apollo cabin, until it occurs to him that Michael is likely dead. That explains the hollows under Will’s eyes, at least, and the undercurrent of hate that Will only barely keeps at bay. Such strong emotions for a boy who’s usually so cheerful. Luke supposes he only has himself to blame for that.

Will may despise Luke all he wishes, but he’s still a doctor at heart. The blond gestures for Luke to lean back down. “If you rip out your stitches and make my work worthless, I’ll kill you myself.” Will says.

Luke arches a brow. “How do I know you won’t do that anyway?”

“I’m still debating,” Will replies pleasantly.

Someone laughs next to him. “Try to stay civil, Solace. Our time for killing is over.”

A camper takes a seat on Luke’s other side. After a few moments of recollection, his addled head realizes that he knows them. That’s Y/N L/N, they’ve been in the Hermes cabin for the longest time, not one of Luke’s half siblings on the godly side but yet another demigod gone unclaimed for years. They used to complain about that to him. He doubts they would repeat the same sentiments now.

Will groans. “Let me at least try to be intimidating, L/N. I only get to do it so often.”

Y/N cracks a grin, then turns to Luke. “I imagine you must have a lot of questions.”

Luke narrows his eyes at them. “Why aren’t I dead?”

Y/N does a superb job of ignoring Will’s clear sentiment that he’d like an answer to that as well, keeping their gaze firmly trained on Luke. “You tried to stop Kronos in the end. Chiron decided that, seeing as you did all that in an effort to protect unclaimed kids and demigods who were ignored by their godly parents, you deserved a second chance.”

“Does anyone other than Chiron actually believe that?” Luke asks pointedly.

Y/N shrugs. “Depends on what you do when you get out of here.”

Will jumps up. “That’s my cue to check on the rest of my suffering patients. You know, the ones that didn’t try to betray us.”

Y/N watches him go. “Ignore him. He’s–”

Luke cuts her off. “Mad that I tried to kill everyone here? I can’t blame him.”

“So you regret what you did?” Y/N questions slowly.

“I don’t regret trying to do something,” Luke says, “only that the gods weren’t as hurt as the demigods. I didn’t want to hurt us, just them. Olympus could use a good scare.”

Thunder rumbles overhead, loud and overbearing. Luke imagines it’s a warning to him: he’s treading on thin ice by staying alive, he’d better not press his luck by insulting the gods anymore.

Y/N sighs, evidently thinking the same thing. “You wouldn’t be the only one to want the world to change.”

Luke glances over at them. Obviously, he hasn’t seen Y/N since he switched sides, but he had forgotten that they used to be friends. Good friends, too. It’s nice to have at least that back to normal.

“You haven’t been claimed in the last while, have you?” He asks, changing the subject away from more dangerous waters.

Y/N smiles. “Actually, I have. Percy made the gods swear to start claiming more of their kids. I found out about my parentage a few days ago.”

Luke nods solemnly, but doesn’t ask for further details. He made a point of prioritizing the demigod over their godly parent when he was recruiting for Kronos during the war, and he supposes that habit has stuck. It makes him wonder how many more traits of the enemy he won’t ever be able to shake.

“So when do I get out of here?”

Y/N folds their arms across their chest. “Depends on what you mean by getting out of here. You’ll get a clean bill of health within the next day or two, most likely. You won’t be leaving the camp for months, though, if ever.”

The implications of that don’t have to be spoken aloud. Luke messed up, obviously, and so he’ll be on house arrest until the end of time. If he can prove that he’s worth the effort of saving, maybe they’ll let him live his life, but until then he’ll be monitored around the clock.

It’s more than he expected, at any rate. Part of Luke thought that he’d be handed over to some sort of trial once he healed up, made to face his crimes and be overly punished accordingly. That way, the gods could point to him in the decades and centuries to come as proof of why half-bloods should never reach for more than they deserve.

But no, he’ll be living. That’s certainly something. Luke leans back slowly against his cot and ponders this. “Do I get a personal guard or something?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “Kind of. You get me. I’m supposed to follow you around and make sure you don’t try to escape.”

Luke snorts. “How’d you get stuck with that job?”

“I asked for it,” Y/N says coolly.

Luke is taken aback. “Why’d you do that?” He can’t imagine anyone in this camp actively trying to bond with him, let alone someone he knew as well as Y/N. Wouldn’t they hate him for betraying them?

They might be just as surprised about it as he is. “I’m not entirely sure. Guess I thought I was the only one who wouldn’t actively try to kill you in your sleep.”

They’re brutal about it, but it’s kind of nice. Honesty is the only sort of medicine that Luke feels like he can stomach right now. Mollycoddling and sugarcoating just serve to waste time.

He half expects Y/N to back out of it, but no, when Luke is declared medically sound and all but forced out of the hospital wing by swordpoint, they’re waiting for him by the door. Luke staggers out into the bright sunlight and looks around like he’s in a dream. The camp has changed since he last saw it. Cabins have sprung up like wildflowers and more are being constructed by the moment.

Y/N notices him staring and gestures towards the new buildings. “See, that’s your doing, even if no one wants to admit it. A ton of new kids have been claimed. Hermes cabin has never been so empty.”

Bitterness surges through Luke’s throat before he can stop it. “I thought that was Percy’s idea.”

Y/N shakes their head. “Percy only got the idea from you. You can make yourself a villain if you want, but you weren’t entirely heartless. You got my godly parent to claim me, and that’s worth a lot.”

Luke smiles to himself as they go. Y/N leads him to the door of their cabin. It’s still cavernously empty compared to the close quarters Luke remembers in Hermes, and he only notices one bunk with belongings on it.

“You’re the only one here?” He asks.

Y/N nods. “So far, at least. I’ve got you now, though. Just as a warning, I will be claiming cabin counselor privileges and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Luke grins before he realizes it. The expression makes his scar ache, but he finds he doesn’t mind it quite so much as before. “I won’t fight you on that.”

He pulls himself onto the top bunk of one of the many empty rows and surveys his new domain. “Do you think it was worth it? Figuring out who your godly parent was just for them to leave you like this?”

After all, what a life. An empty cabin already collecting dust. It’s cold in here without bodies inside to warm it up. The walls are barren of personal touches. Y/N knows their heritage, yes, and is able to move out of a cabin that was never theirs, but this doesn’t seem like much of a blessing.

Y/N lingers by the foot of Luke’s bunk, and he gestures for them to climb up and join him. They do so in a heartbeat, and then they’re sitting opposite each other, gazes locked and breathing steady.

“It can be lonely,” they admit, “but it’s not so bad. You have hope that it won’t always be this way. Maybe someone will come. Maybe someone already has.”

Luke swallows harshly. “I missed you.”

He blurts it out, hardly aware of what he’s saying. He missed a hell of a lot. Y/N. Laughing at midnight, their whispered words covered up by the sounds of dozens of campers sleeping shoulder to shoulder. Training during the day, the clash of celestial bronze. Orange shirts burning like beacons against their backs. Being able to wear his beaded necklace without feeling like a traitor, even if that’s what he is and always will be.

Y/N leans forward. “I missed you too. I kept hearing about you, which is more than you got of me, but it didn’t feel right. I don’t know where the boy I knew is, if he even exists anymore, but I’d like to try and find him again.”

“I’d like to find him again too,” Luke whispers.

It is the dream of a broken boy bleeding out in the palace of the gods. At this moment, Luke isn’t entirely sure that he didn’t die there in the Olympian throne room. If someone told him that this is what dying is like, conjuring up a vision of what he wishes he could have most of all, Luke would have believed them.

In the end, Luke has no idea if this is real or not. All he can do is keep going, keep waking up each morning to see if he is still in the hazy aftermath of a second chance or finally locked down below in the Underworld. Luke always wanted to try for the Isles of the Blest anyway. Maybe this is just his second life, his second attempt at getting there.

He reaches out on impulse and takes Y/N’s hand. He can feel the blood pumping through their veins, the same certainty as being able to press his fingers against a locked door and know exactly how to break in. This is Luke’s next great trick, but he thinks he’d like to do it right.

“Alright, then,” Luke says at last, “Let’s try again.”

pjo taglist: @w1shes43

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan oneshot #pjo #pjo imagines #pjo x reader #pjo oneshot #pjo luke #pjo luke imagines #pjo luke x reader #pjo luke oneshot #percy jackson

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dontforgetoctober3rd · 5 months

Text

Come Go With Me

A Michael Gavey fic.

EDIT: Now with art! (just a sketch tho)

Summary: It's the spring of 2007 and Michael Gavey has so far kept to the vow he made to never socialize again after Oliver ditched him. Then he meets a cute girl at a coffee shop. Will the vow stand strong or immediately go down the drain?

Word Count: 3986

Rating: T (plenty of swearing, instances of misogyny, objectification of the female body, atrociously incorrect bagel eating, New York City slander, etc.)

Author's Note: yes, the title is the song by Expose. Also, I'm a corny writer.

Divider by @cafekitsune

“I don’t know or care what Oliver Quick is doing this summer,” Michael said, continuing to type on his laptop, not even making eye contact with whoever asked the question. The guy who asked left without saying anything further.

Some random guy in the library asked Michael if it was true that Oliver was going to be spending the summer with Felix on his family’s estate. It was more about prying into Felix’s business than him wanting to know anything about Oliver, Michael thought. Oliver was not on the same level of being interesting (in the eyes of the general student populace) that the Cattons were.

Michael didn’t give a shit that Oliver was going to fancy fucking Saltburn with his new, snobby, loser, nepo baby friends for the summer. Really, he didn’t. When Oliver humiliated him at the bar, he made the decision then to swear off any further socializing at the university. It was the best thing he ever did.

Already, he felt less anxious. He had more time to focus on his coursework. More time to read new books, attend off campus lectures. Walks in the park by himself were quite relaxing when he didn’t have to think about topics to keep a stilted, dying conversation going. He even went so far as to set aside time to play video games again. Every weekend, for one hour and a half, he lost himself in Fable on his Xbox.

Michael still felt the sting of the bar betrayal from time to time, as he thought he had finally found a true friend in Oliver (or at least, the potential for him to become one). The new, lone path taken had helped him realize that he was not the problem. Oliver was just an asshole, like the majority of those who went to Oxford.

Sometimes Michael wondered why people didn’t like him. Must be how smart he was. There was nothing weird about being good at math. What was so awful about being good at math, anyway? He guessed that most peoples’ biggest issue with his smarts was that it reminded them they were stupid. Oh well! Plenty of time for activities by himself now.

One of those activities was fast became his favorite, after only his fourth visit. Visiting a little coffee shop he had discovered near the river, he was able to “mingle” among people without having to talk to anyone. No one would bother him here and he would still get his dose of human contact which, after all, was vital to the psychological constitution of a person. As rigid as he intended on being with his new No Socializing At Oxford vows, Michael did not intend on becoming a psychopath. Besides, the baristas never got his order wrong. They never talked to him beyond the perfunctory taking of his order but after the third time, when he walked in, instead of asking what he would like the person at the register had asked “The usual?” and Michael would just say yes, thank you, and then pay.

Michael packed up his laptop, shoving it and the charger into his reusable Tescoe bag along with his notebooks. He stood and adjusted his sweater, checked all his pant pockets were buttoned up and zipped closed. He kept his visits only to every other day so as to not have the monotony grate on his nerves. The coffee shop made fresh bagels every day, however, and he had been looking forward to enjoying one all morning (his favorite was blueberry). He liked to eat his a certain way, scooping out the insides of each slice before finally eating the hollowed out crusts. Someone at school would surely have an opinion about his bagel-eating method (not that he cared) but at the coffee shop, Michael was left in peace.

Walking briskly through the library doors and outside in the crisp spring air, he didn’t even look in direction of Oliver walking up the steps into the library with Felix. They were laughing about something but Michael didn’t even breathe in their direction.

—---------

The delicious smell of bread baking hit him in a wave as he stepped into the coffee shop. It looked like a rush had just hit, the baristas busy cleaning and restocking various items.

“Hi! I’ll take your order right over here.” came the chipper voice. Michael turned.

Oh god, a new hire. An American one (he was pretty sure the accent he heard was American) Maybe he wasn’t entitled to feel irritated about changes in the store, it's not like he owned the damn thing, but Michael felt irritated just the same. This was HIS spot and someone new had just invaded it.

The new girl had long hair parted in the middle, tied back in a bun. The hair was turquoise. A very bright turquoise, almost neon, he would say. It pissed him off even more. Dyed hair was so fucking tacky.

He trudged to the register, hating every second of anticipating having to deal with someone new, someone chatty, even for something as impersonal as coffee.

The girl was almost as tall as he was, eye-level to him, smiling the fakest fucking smile he had ever seen. I mean, it had to be fake. Who looked this happy to be taking a stranger’s order? He didn’t even bother attempting to smile back. Whatever. Get my coffee, bitch Michael though.

“I’ll have a large vanilla coffee, sugar free, with a blueberry bagel.”

“Ah, so just cutting back on the sugar but can’t quite quit it altogether, eh?” the girl said with a wink and another smile, totally unperturbed by his attitude.

Michael pursed his lips and said nothing. The girl, still unbothered, looked down and clacked away on the touch screen. He quickly looked over her in the few seconds she imputed his order.

She had long, acrylic nails, painted a pastel kind of purple. Her name tag said Cat, which he guessed was short for Catherine. Maybe. Also her boobs were big. Not normal big, but stripper big. Not that he would know, but still. Too big for the word “boobs”, for sure. Tits seemed like a more appropriate word. If he had ever been to a strip club he was pretty damn sure stripper tits would look exactly like hers. And she had tattoos covering the entirety of her left arm. Classy, he thought condescendingly. No wonder she was working here instead of somewhere like a bank.

Michael wondered if she had tattoos on her chest as well…he was so sure he could avert his gaze before she noticed but suddenly her fingers snapped and her head lowered into his line of vision, a smug look on her face. Small wisps of hair hung in front of her ears, he noticed.

“You lose something. buddy?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean-I was just looking at your name tag.” he sputtered, fidgeting with a cuff of his sweater.

“Look, it's fine. They’re tits.”

Michael flinched slightly at her casual use of the word. It was one thing to talk like that with other guys, but girls? What was she trying to prove? Tits tits tits. He made a point to stare straight into her eyes and not look away while she continued to speak. “Its not a big deal, I promise,” she said, finishing up his order on the register and offering her hand to take payment.

Choosing not to respond, Michael set his Tesco bag on the counter so he could unzip one of his pockets to get at his credit card. The pocket it was in was hard to open and the zipper always caught, so two hands were needed.

“You can look, you know, just don’t be creepy about it.” she continued, as he struggled slightly with the pocket.

Michael did not look at her as he handed over the card.

Being branded a “creep” was the last thing Michael needed. He was already the Lonely Nerd at university, he really did not want to become the Creepy Lonely Nerd (that ogles stranger’s tits). Not that he would give a shit what people thought, but one less socially crippling label was better than one more.

“I mean, it’s not like I can leave them at home, right? I don’t mind a little look here and there!” she said with a laugh, handing back his card. Unbelievable. She was still talking about her tits!

“Can I get that to go?” Michael answered more than asked.

“Sure thing. Uh, what’s your name?”

“I’m Michael.” He was not staying here. He was not going to stay and become the Creepy Tit Guy. Given her outgoing nature, Cat would probably have something to say about the way he ate his bagel, too, he was sure of it. He would become Creepy Tit And Weirdo Bagel Eating Method Guy if he stayed. Maybe dealing with this at university would have been easier but this was supposed to be his relaxation spot. The coffee shop was ruined for him now, he would never come back. Ever. Fuck this place and fuck her.

“Alrighty, dude. Be right back!”

“My name is not…dude..” Michael stepped away from the register, his voice fading away to nothing as Cat got his order ready, unable to hear him. There was no one else coming in right now, it seemed he came during a lull. The other employees were still cleaning and restocking.

“Here you go!” Cat said with a smile, handing him his bagel in a paper wrap and his coffee.

Still not looking at her, he took his bagel and his coffee and got the fuck out of there, practically powerwalking away.

It was only until he made it to a nearby park bench that he finally saw what Cat had written on the other side of his bagel wrapper. A whole paragraph, practically. Michael, sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I was just trying to be funny, I swear. Enjoy your coffee. Hope you come back!

Michael felt relief for a moment, before loudly groaning and spilling some of his coffee as he made to slap his forehead with that same hand. He had left his fucking Tescoe bag at the coffee shop. His bag that had his computer, his notebooks, his finished papers for a couple of classes.

He had to go back. Fuck.

“Yeah, sorry, but she said she knew you.”

Michael swore. The cashier informed him that Cat had just left, her shift was over. She had taken the bag with her to the Oxford library. Apparently, she was a student there? Who fucking knew!?

“You need me to call the police?”

“No, that’s all right, I do know her.” Michael lied. “I told her earlier I’d be headed to the library later. She probably figures she can catch me there.” Without a single, civil ‘thank you’, Michael practically fled the shop.

He didn’t care how dumb it looked that he was frantically looking everywhere in the library for the familiar, turquoise hair. People always looked at him funny. It’s not like he could go to each of them individually and ask them hey could you please stop snidely whispering every time you look in my direction? Old Michael would go back to his dorm, have a cry, wonder why no one liked him and then quickly finish his homework in his dungeon of a bedroom before crying some more and then going to sleep.

New Michael didn’t give a shit. New Michael was focused 100 percent on his academics and self-care, and right now his academics were in jeopardy because that Tesco bag held papers he had yet to type (Michael liked to hand write his work first, he felt it was more thorough). Also, maybe New Michael should better remember to not forget his shit at random shops. Old Michael wouldn’t have forgotten. Whatever.

After scanning the entire first floor of the library, he stomped to the second floor. If she was a student here, how had he never seen her? The hair would have been hard to miss. Of course, it's not like he made it a habit to people watch anymore, especially in the library.

Suddenly, he saw her. Way in the corner, at a table right under a huge window, he saw her returning with her nose in a book from the shelves. On the table, his bag.

“Give it here.” Michael said, approaching the table. Cat looked up from her book.

God, she was pretty. He felt like a troll next to her. It was so fucking unfair. More importantly though…why was he telling her to hand the bag back? It was HIS. He should just take it and go, without a word. She had basically stolen it. The girl was a thief and took it to give him a hard time because she was a bitch, like every other pretty girl he had ever interacted with and been cut down by. Maybe he could like her if he gave it a try…but the days of trying to get people to think he was cool or amazing were over. She was a bitch and he knew it.

Mmm not what the note on your bagel showed, an annoying voice in his head began. That note could only have been written if she liked you because who would write that for a random customer? You should talk to her an-

Oh, fucking christ. Old Michael. Desperate-to-be-liked-by-someone-ANYONE Michael. Shut the fuck up, Old Michael. You are dead.

“Yeah, no problem, I mean it is your bag!” Cat said cheerfully, closing her book and holding the bag out to him. “Sorry you had to run all this way to get it, Michael.”

“Um, it’s ok. I run fast.” Michael said, immediately regretting it. God, that sounded so fucking stupid. He reached out for his bag.

Oh, so we’re no longer on that socializing ban, huh, Mr. Comedian? I mean, what was THAT?! Old Michael thought slyly. Shut up shut up shut up shut up!!!!! And, look! She remembers your name! SHUT UP.

“-couldn’t just leave it there, you know?” Cat had finished saying.

Michael froze. “Huh?”

What had she been talking about? Shit. “Uh, why not?” Please let that be the right response. Please let that be relevant to what she was fucking saying, Michael thought desperately.

Cat rolled her eyes, but still sounded…not like a bitch? “The laptop would definitely have been long gone if I hadn’t taken the bag. I couldn’t just leave it there.”

Oh. That was it. That had been all she had said. Michael nodded and mumbled his thanks, ready to go…except Cat still held onto the bag. And stopped him with her next words.

“You play Fable a lot?”she asked.

It’s a trap. She is going to make fun of you, he thought to himself. Just get your shit and go. His hand was also still on HIS bag. That she was not letting go of, for some reason.

“Yeah, I like it a lot.”

Oh, how riveting. That will make her swoon! Old Michael chimed in.

“Really?” Cat responded. Her tone wasn’t mocking. It was…interested? “I like it too but it feels unfinished, somehow. I wish they would release Fallout 3 for these new consoles already, I bet it would be 1000 times better than this crap that Lionhead put out.”

Michael nodded. She liked Fallout? She was impatient for the release?? Ask her to go with you to the midnight release next year!!! Ask her ask her ask her ask- No. Shut up. Be normal, for once in your life, be normal and chill about something.

“-able doesn’t feel like it’s TRULY a good rpg, where you can do whatever you want, you know? You can only go in one direction and can’t put off the main quest at all.”

She was still talking about Fable. She was still talking about video games, something they both liked, something they had in common.

This is your chance, you know. Old Michael piped in. Did any of those other people ever show even the slightest interest in the stuff you were into? Ever? Ask her out!

“Ok,” Michael began. “I see your point, but the mechanics of the game aren’t the star so much as the incredible story and character designs-”

While he continued to go on a tangent of Fable’s good qualities to Cat, trying his best not to sound too rant-y, Michael frantically gave the idea of asking her out some thought…

What if she said no? Hm what if she says yes?

It’s stupid. The release for Fallout 3 is next year. No, not even. It’s October of that year, so…over a year away! Almost two fucking years! What kind of weirdo would ask someone on a date almost two years from now?! Plus, she isn’t even into me. She just likes video games, like any other person.

Why is she still holding onto your bag, then? Old Michael thought smugly. Why did she write that little note on your bagel? Why did she remember your name? Why-

All right, all right.

“Right, so…want to come? To the midnight release for it? For Fallout 3?” Michael asked, throwing all caution to the wind and swallowing his preemptive rejection rage that already was bubbling up.

“For Fallout?” Cat said, still holding onto the bag. “Which store you going to?”

“Target.” Please say yes. I don’t even know you and I know it’s weird to ask you somewhere practically two years from now but PLEASE SAy YES, Michael thought.

“Mm, nah.” Cat, said, letting go of the bag to dig in her bookbag.

Shit.

Michael’s chest began to hurt, the hand holding his bag falling limply to his side. He could feel his eyes begin to water. She was just like the rest of them. Pathetic. So pathe-

“You should come with me to Game on Queen Street, they always price cut!” Cat said, whipping out her blackberry. “Whatever price we show them for the game, they’ll shave 5 off it! I mean, it’s not much but I’ll take what I can get! Here, put your number in.”

On sheer autopilot, Michael put his number in. He felt ashamed the entire time, having choked back a scathing insult at the last minute before Cat had shoved her phone at him.

“Are you ok?” Cat took her phone back, eyeing him with a concerned look.

“I’m fine! It’s just-probably something I caught the other day, I can already feel the sniffles coming on and whatnot. It’s nothing!” Michael babbled.

It cannot be this easy, Michael thought. It’s been this easy the entire time? Hanging out with a girl? Talking to her? Making plans? Why did Oliver never like him when they had so much in common?

Holy shit, forget about fucking Oliver! You have a date with your future wife! Old Michael practically screeched. Jesus fucking Christ, you are desperate. Shut the fuck up!! Be Normal!

“You wanna go back to the shop and get another bagel?” Cat asked, putting her books away and sliding on her bookbag. “ We could use my discount, that way-”

“Yeah, let's go.” Michael cut in. Grabbing her wrist and not waiting for her answer, he turned and began to swiftly move through the library. He tried not to get excited as Cat uttered a quick ‘cool’ and kept pace with him.

He also tried not to think about how awkwardly he was holding her hand. Everyone in the library was staring, he saw it in his peripheral. It had looked so cool in his brain but now everyone could see how his stupid hand around her wrist slightly resembled him holding his limp-no no no no noooo shut up shut up SHUT UP.

“Blueberry runs out quick.” Michael said, as they both briskly walked. “I went one time at around this hour instead of my usual time and I had to settle for onion, which is gross as shit.” You’re rambling, Old Michael chided. She fucking works there, she doesn’t need a play-by-play of bagel supply issues. Let her say something, idiot! The reason he never noticed her before, it turned out, was that she hadn’t dyed her hair yet. Cat also began to tell him about her history degree. Something about the American Gilded age and how she was deep into research of the British Astors or something. Michael surprisingly found himself not bored. Were her eyes fucking green? Oh, fuck, they were green!

They finally saw the shop in the distance. Right after his anti-onion bagel tirade and her talk of her studies, he set straight into a long-winded verbal onslaught on the statistics of how rare green eyes were. Micheal thought his heart would fall out of his asshole when Cat adjusted their hands so her fingers were laced with his. About halfway through the distance, he had cut in when she mentioned her favorite bagel flavor (pineapple) and talked her ear off the rest of the way about his bagel eating method, insisting on its practicality but really prepping her so that she wouldn’t be horrified when she saw him do it and ditch him like fucking Oliver. She laughed.

“That’s so L.A. of you. New York would hate your fucking guts, though.” she said, with a grin. “Good thing I’m a California girl! I’d rather deal with horrible traffic and scooped bagels than having to fight rats for sidewalk space.”

Right before they got to the doors, Michael went for it. “I’m telling people that you’re my girlfriend.”, he said seriously. She hadn’t run off when he had taken her hand (wrist). She had noticed the Fable stickers on his computer. She had remembered his name after one interaction. The American thing was a slight issue but hey, no one was perfect!

“Cool, because I already told the staff that you were my boyfriend when I took your bag!” Cat responded. “I told them you like to pretend you don’t know me when you get mad and I just play along to pacify you. It was the only way they were comfortable letting me take your bag!”

Be cool! Do not fucking freak out! Act fucking normal! Do NOT scare her away! Say something a fucking weirdo would never in a million years say! Old Michael reminded him.

“Let’s go back to my place after and study some calculus. Your grades in that sound horrendous.” Fucccccck. You just got yourself a girlfriend and this is the shit you respond with?! Old Michael panicked.

Cat smirked. “Only if you promise to fuck me into your mattress after.”

Michael stared at her, almost daring her to say she was kidding. When she didn’t and her gaze briefly dropped to his lips, he abandoned any doubts he had and turned to walk away from the shop, practically dragging Cat with him.

Cat giggled and adjusted herself to clutch at his arm with both hands, her legs and his in perfect sync as they made their way to Michael’s room.

—------------

“What the fuck?” Felix said to Oliver, pointing. Both were sitting on a bench, relaxing a bit before their next class.

“Didn’t he go fucking mental at you the first day? Not to be a dick or anything but is she safe with that guy?”

Oliver followed Felix’s finger and froze.

He gaped at what he saw:

Michael fucking Gavey, math genius slash freak of nature, walking happily with the pretty American girl who had said no to their bar hopping invite just last week. It was definitely surprising, but Oliver was now more determined than ever. If a fucking social reject like Gavey could get what he was after, then someone like himself was sure to have the same luck if he continued to put in the effort.

THE END

#Michael Gavey #Michael Gavey fic #ewanverse #writeblr #Michael Gavey fanfiction #fanfiction #I DID IT I FINISHED IT #*jeb bush voice* please clap #I WAS going to put smut in it but despite some excellent advice i still couldn't do it!#I need to practice more! i really want to write a good fuck one day!#curse my catholic upbringing ugrrrrhhhh #yes this is corny but have you taken into consideration the fact that I DO NOT CARE???#i live life on the cob baby #and if the only way to improve my writing is by embarrassing myself on this hellsite then so fucking BE IT

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