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chaotic-nick · 3 years ago

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Note: So this fic is based on when I started posting here and MIche Headcanon Anon sent in a bunch of Fighter Miche Headcanons, I've wanted to use them for so long, so yay!

wordcount: 3.1k

warnings: none except at the end where reader is harassed by someone else and she punches the person.

Event: Prince Charming Collab hosted by @asahipleaseloveme

If he’s being honest— Both Miche’s hands planted deeper into the mattress and lifted himself up from the woman he’d taken home from the night. One that he’d been frequently flirting with for the past month, their conversations only suggesting what could happen at night. And stopping there. A sigh when he momentarily lay beside her to close his eyes.

There was probably a miscommunication in his actions, she took it as a sign and turned to her side. “Wanna go again.” The hotel’s blanket up to her chest, head on the pillow. Fingers dancing in a single trail on his chest.

— Miche doesn’t like this version of himself that he puts up around the people who have no intention but to only earn the right of saying they had slept with one of Paradis’ top athletes. Nor does he wish he was at this stage of his life anymore. He was yearning for a connection built on something common between them.

Catching those three fingers, he opened his eyes. “Thanks.” Him sitting up was a way to tell her that he was declining the . . . kind offer. “It was amazing though.”

Not wanting to feel like he was an asshole, he cast his eyes toward something else, avoiding her as she stood up in a search for her clothes. Throws across the floor in the heat of the moment.

It was gone now, replaced with the awkward air that he was familiar with. “Right.” Her tone carried bitterness in it. “But if you’re sure it wasn’t a one-time thing, I’m leaving my company calling card here.”

When the door of the hotel room closed, MIche let his tense body come to a rest. Really, He thought he had accepted that he’d always carried the identifier of the fun uncle anywhere he went. Always known among his friends that he’ll never settle down.

Was that all?

Coming home from another fight he had won to his parent's house was always a delight. A feeling that he always forgot, and came stronger to him when he experienced it again. Though he often wondered when he’ll come home to a hug. A different type of hug.

A loving one around his arms, pulling him down to them and then saying that dinner will be ready soon. He’ll go into the living room and have all the children she gave him to run to him with their arms wide open. Did he want a kid? Or was it the loneliness speaking?

Sighing, Miche stood up. It was a thought reserved for the showers he was making his way to. He was familiar and sick of this routine, standing under the cold water after a one night stand.

On another day when the sun was high up and he was confined to the gym, training with Hannes, (Y/n)’s back hot with sweat hit the cool pavement that she laid on. Eyes squinting up as every breath was an attempt to get her breathing back to normal.

Days off didn’t come often for them, especially in their lines of work as journalists. Given how they were almost married to their jobs, their social lives are non-existent. Leaving them to only spend their days off playing basketball. Not that all of them played basketball, but some of them came just for the comfort of baing around people.

(Y/n), sweaty from running around the court and in need of a cold shower to rid of the sweaty smell spoke with a pout. “You know what’s not fair?”

“No one cares, (Y/n).” Petra sat in the shade and crocheted, nudged Oluo. Also in need of a shower.

Maybe ice-cold water for the bite marks on his poor tongue.

“Eld and I— childhood friends and he still gets to be married first and is at the hospital.” Her words making the other Radio team consisting of Rico, Mitabe and Ian to look her way. “Lucille being on maternity leave is sending us into overtime, why is life so unfair?”

A questioning tone from Petra, “But you call your anime characters husbands?” and saw the shirt (Y/n) was wearing. “You act like you’re disappointed with the overtime and you’re ordering merch after merch.”

Gunther leaned toward the three, “This is the same person who rejected the basketball player from Japan. Believe us when we say she’s different off-screen and on-screen. Poor (Y/n) would’ve been giving birth alone and divorced. Already fighting for custody had she married him.”

“Your section gets the best drama—” Ian, still shy around the reporter looked away when she turned to listen to them.

“Why what do you guys get?”

“You think there’s drama in food journalism.”

“The drama’s an added bonus for the energy we spend there. At least you guys get to eat.”

Then a comfortable silence as they got back to whatever they were doing. Ian initiated that they go another round of basketball, and left Gunther who was at (Y/n)'s side. “I think I’m your cameraman for your next assignment.”

“So all of us, in the stadium?” A nod.

“Yipee, we’re all reporting together!” That was nice. Atleast she wouldn’t have to worry about being alone in a stadium full of male fans and their soaring levels of testosterone. Her being one of the reporters for the live broadcast was handed to her as an emergency after Lucille started to show and decided to go on leave.

“We’ll see Miche there, too.”

That was weird name. Mee-keh? How would one spell that? “Who?”

“He’s a common friend, nice guy.”

“Oh, he’s also in media?”

“(Y/n),” Agin, the radio team seemed surprised at the revelation she didn’t know who this guy was, ” he’s one of the boxers.”

She thought she could keep quiet about it, however, “Yeah, I don’t know shit about boxing.”

“You never know anything about the people you’re interviewing!”

In a sarcastic tone she replied, “Oh shocking. Ever heard of reading?”

“You read about them the before the interview.”

“But I still get the job done.”

There he was again in that area of life reassessment in the middle of the private gym. It came unexpectedly, too. Just a quick water break as Hannes said. Somehow, Miche thought that it’d be the perfect time to connect to the world outside his bubble and took his phone with him as he drank bottle after bottle.

Had he just gone to drink water at the corner of the gym, and done only that, he wouldn’t be seeing Eld’s post the first moment he opened to Instagram. A simple photo. Just him showing his thumbs-up, the background looked to be a hospital.

His eyes were heavy with a different level of fatigue compared to when he’d post about the life of being a cameraman to the behind of scenes of where he was assigned to film. Th bags were definitely darker. But his smile was wider, one that was infectious.

‘Little monster’s already causing trouble!’ Read the caption followed with an explanation of how Lucille is still in labour, his only rest was when her parents and his came in. Prompting Miche to dial Petra’s number, ready to offer the help needed.

While waiting for her to answer, he found himself imagining what he’d be like again.

What he’d be like as a spouse to his wife. Maybe a pregnant wife— surely he’d be a good husband, learn what’s needed to be learnt. Change the baby’s diapers at night. Feed the baby— or babies, their milk while she rested from the fatigue from childbirth. So that means spoiling both of them?

He’s sure that he’s made enough money from his career, but the thought of giving them the world made him consider using his mechanical engineering degree. A conversation he could hear was heard on the other line, and a clearer, “Hello?”

Petra! The one who had been trying to set him up with her many, many friends when he confided in her about being so lonely. Their conversation started with him aksing Eld’s current state and drifted to him going out more.

He laughed at the invitation of playing at the basketball court by the buildings where their accommodations were. “What will I do at a basketball court?” Miche already knew that he would feel like an outsider when he joined them for a game— also, for someone as tall as him, he and Erwin would run out of fingers to count how many times he’d been hit in the head.

“I’m already training every day!”

“Exactly! Use another sport to relax.”

“Thank you for the offer, Pet.” He smiled, gratfeyl that he had a friend like her. “Maybe after Jager.”

Delight in her tone as she “Oooooh, we wanted to keep it a surprise, but we’re seeing you there! We’re covering your fight!”

“I’ll see you there then?”

“Yup! We should try to get as many pictures as possible!”

He flinched at Hannes calling for him to get back to training. “Send my regards to Eld, alright.”

“Of course, take of yourself, Miche.”

Course he will. He’ll keep himself in the best of his health. Eat what’s needed and stop drinking . . . for now.

After the fight everyone is making a deal about, complete with the media outlets jumping on and writing articles on why it’s such a big deal, Miche was done. He’ll take his gloves off and step off the ring. Leave his legacy as someone who finished his career with the same opponent from when he started it.

Zeke Jager.

When he told his parents this, his father offered a path on the shoulder. Telling Miche how proud he was for achieving such a thing and still keeping his head on the ground. His mother crying happy tears, something about how her prayer was answered.

“Zacharias, back in the ring!”

What no one knows is that he’s stepping out of the public eye for four years. That’s it. He’ll come back after that wearing the Olympic jacket with his name to represent the nation of Paradis.

Alone.

Except for his father, in th corner reading the same page of teh newspaper he had bought, his only suit that he wore in all his fights wrinkled. His mother was on the opposite end of the couch. Quiet. Head bent down, her collapsed hands around the rosary against her lips that moved in a prayer that only she heard.

And Hannes behind him, more nervous than he was despite drinking a bottle after another the night before.

This was the same entourage he started with at twenty-two, back Erwin and Levi were strangers. Nile was nervous about asking Marie out. When he was still naive and boxing was all that there was in the world that would make him happy. Things don’t stay that way, his entourage becoming smaller. Erwin and Levi are married and their personalities become one collective bubble.

He envied Nile deeply. Stuck at home with two daughters and a loving wife.

“There’s the guy.” Came a voice he’d heard through the phone for many months, his bodyguards blocking the door with their tall bodies. One asked him for confirmation if they were his friends.

“Sir?” Petra. Olou and Gunther,

The added stress on their faces was because of Eld being on leave.

“It’s alright.” He stumbled on his way to them from sitting too long in his chair. A towel over his shoulders acting as his shirt. “Did you guys eat yet?”

“I’ve got snacks.” He added in an effort to make them come in the room, take the pictures they wanted with him.

As much she wanted, and with the red bag of chips calling to her, Petra only nodded. “Thanks, but can’t.” Their white shirts and ID laces, carrying their equipment reminded Miche that they were working.

“We’re going on air—” Though Gunther, having his camera on him moved in to make his way to the table cut them off. “Don’t mind me, I haven’t eaten anything until now.”

“Well,” a look to her watch. “I guess, we could spare some time, (Y/n)’s on air.”

Back in the room, Miche held the door open about to ask about Eld and Lucille when loud footsteps running toward to them echoed in the corridor.alerted him and his bodyguards.

“GUYS! HELP!” The desperation in her tone pulled his parents attention to her, their necks straining to peak out the door to look at who it was. His bodyguards thinking that it was something alarming. Petra and Gunther, midway through eating, started patting their pockets.

A reporter like them, with her hair tied in a low ponytail that swayed along with her frantic steps, stopped to rest her hands on her knees. Mike in hand. Her face matched the desperation in her tone, and the hand holding her mic was raised. “Need. Batteries.”

She was working. He needed to remind himself that. And in his career, he’s many journalists and reporters alike, this one, however . . . “Aww, thank you, thank you.” he found himself straightening his back that made his towel effortleslsy fall off. His eyes trying to make him look intimidating.

“(Y/n),” Gunther noticed that Miche was trying to do everything to impress her. Gone was the lightness in his tone, using is intimidation to appear cool.

“Hmm?”

“This is Miche.”

Still, she averted her eyes from the battery slot to look at him. “Hello.” Straightforward like that. Not even a smile.

She was working. He told himself.

“He’s the friend you thought was like us.”

“Good luck for your fight! Heard it was your last.” This time she offered a small smile that he was used to. One that was given out of being nice. A slap to the battery slot’s cover.“There! Great, after my batteries, I’ll lose my voice next.”

He did a great job of convincing himself that the littel wave she did was meant fo rhim and not for her coworkers before she ran further off.

Out of all the journalists he’s ever met in his career, this one had ]made him feel normal. Rather than put him on a pedatle for his looks. Hearts in his eyes as a breathed out, “I think I love her.”

“No way,” Laughed Petra, (Y/n)’s panic making her check her mic. “She just ignored you like that.”

“Yeah.” That’s exactly the point. He was as normal anyone could get. She didn’t even throw away her professionalism to bat her eyes at him and throw compliments his way.

“After the match, you should ask her.”

Oluo risked a bite of his tongue and yelled “She ignored him!”

Petra enjoyed every bit of seeing such a lovestruck expression on Miche’s face and egged him on “Better impress her on the ring.”

“I will.”

“Yeah!” He turned around, jumping in his spot. Shaking his hands. “Of course, I will. I’ll impress her enough she’ll love me on the spot.”

—

He didn’t know what was keeping him on the spot in the platform especially when his shoulder weighed heavily off the winning belt. There was a panel of interviewers waiting for him, if he was going to ask her out— drinks after this? Dinner? Lunch the following day, this was it. She was right there. A quick jog from the ring and to the audience and he could have his answer.

But his heart running in somersaults kept him by the ring. Watching her end the live broadcast and not noticing that Petra was already beside him.

Meanwhile, she could feel the many looks people were giving her from all directions. Some watching her out curiosity and some amazed that she can do such a thing. Myabe a few . . . undesirable stares from the men who had done nothing but try to harass her. But all that aside, (Y/n) wanted nothing jmore but to go home and open her laptop to see if she passed her entrance exams. Sip hot tea to relax her throat and lay in an endless sleep.

It was tiring having to keep her voice up yo a level of enthusiasm they expected from her, and she hated how she stretched her face to look happy. As if she understood the match. “And so you can expect— with the many people coming out of the stadium to go home, a traffic jam. Keep your seatbelts buckled in and drive safe.”

She felt a looming presence approach her from the line of crowds walking out and moved to the side. A bothered expression on her face. “This was (Y/n)—”

“Damn, I could’ve taken you home if Zeke won, huh?”

Both her and Miiche’s eyes widened.

Hey eyes were wide open from the shock that took over her when she felt his rough hand brush down her thigh after squeezing her bum. Her cold fingers wrapped around the mic became numb and slipped out. The impact being heard in her earpiece.

“Shit—” And Miche cursing himself for standing idly and letting him grope her.

His eyes did grow wider when the mic fell, followed the body of the man who was a part of Zeke’s entourage fell, holding his nose. Eyes closed.

Throwing the belt at Hannes, he rushed to her without a second thought. “Are you okay?” His bodyguards going to the man and the security already pushing away a forming crown away.

“I— I . . .” Her eyes looked everywhere to stop the tears that formed from flowing down her face. She knew that there was someone trying to get her attention. Someone who held her by her shoulders. “I think I’m shaking.”

“You are, you’re in shock.”

Her eyes were wide. Only blank. “I’m gonna lose my job.”

“You probably won’t,” he navigated her out the crowd and to the infirmary. The panel of interviewers can wait. “We can have to get your hand checked.”

“Mhm.”

He tried to make light of the situation and talked on, until the lights changed from a bright white in the stadium to yellow bouncing off in the corridors. “You threw a mean punch though, your hand’s probably fine. Still, better to get it checked out.”

“Thank . . . thank you. Was an athlete back then.”

“Really?” He sat next to her when the nurse came, suddenly feeling embarrassed about how sweaty he was. Only a towel to cover his upper body. “What kind?”

“Karate.”

Oh. now he’s surely in love.

Also terrified of her.

Someone so quiet made a man twice her size fall to the ground and paint a part of it red.

taglist:

@axoxtxhxh @stigandr-the-cat @ghost-party @sinnerofthewalls@ririthu @ack3rlady @flamingblinglove @petitachi @blondeboyfriend @takemetofarlanchurch @killerbananas

#nick writes fics #miche zacharias #mike zacharias #aot x reader #mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharius x reader #aot fanfiction #aot fic #miche x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot miche #aot mike #Prince Charming collab

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