#will runs the neighborhood he’s Michael

[kaiser1ns]

𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

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╹synopsis :: good luck appears suddenly, even if it's just for little while, but there is always hope and faith for another tomorrow.

╹contents :: MAP OF THE SOUL PT. 2, 2.4k words, fluff + angst, KAISER BACKSTORY TW: physical abuse, alcohol.

╹taglist :: @chaosinanutshell @rinitoshisgirl @thebluelockroyals

Closing the door as he heard a glass breaking once he stepped outside in the sun that shined upon him, giving some type of warmth as he put the black hood over his head walking away from the so called 'home'. As Michael strolled through the neighborhood, the faint jingle of a bell caught his attention. Pausing, he realized the sound ceased whenever he stopped. Strange, the boy though and continued walking, the bells chiming anew as he moved forward. Turning, he spotted a sleek black cat with a white collar and a bell attached to it.

A lost cat? Kneeling down, he inspected the collar, discovering the cat's name, Felicity, and a phone number. Too bad he didn't have a phone to call and get the cat out of here. Well, there's nothing for me to do. He patted the cat on the head, got up and continued to walk aimlessly leaving the animal behind. Michael was now a little further away, and there was no sound of the tinkling of a bell. Maybe the cat found its owner already and is taken care of by receiving treats and pats.

Speaking of treats his stomach rumbled, and before he went out, he took a little bit of his savings in case of getting hungry. It was strange for him to go into the store and buy something instead of stealing it like his father wanted him to do. He took the most ordinary sandwich with ham, cheese and some sauce. When he was at the register paying, he saw the candy Y/N gave him as a reward — he will keep the location of the sweets in mind.

Walking out of the store, holding the soccer ball in one hand and the sandwich in the other, the blonde boy made his way to the playground where he first saw the girl two weeks ago, and sadly he hadn't seen her since. Well the boy can't blame her — she probably went to school and has other close friends to hangout with, something he doesn't have. Sitting on the ground, leaning against the graffiti wall he began to eat, until suddenly the sound of a bell was heard again.

Michael looked up, his eyes locking with the familiar black cat from earlier. She mewed at him, her white collar glinting in the sunlight as she approached rubbing at his leg. He couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "You again, huh?" he murmured, tearing off a piece of ham from his sandwich and offering it to her.

The cat wasted no time, devouring the ham eagerly. Once they both finished their meal he got up and without hesitation, started dribbling and kicking the ball around. To his surprise, the cat seemed intrigued, her paw batting at the ball whenever it came close. It reminded him of someone, though he couldn't quite put his finger on who. Michael took a break, sitting back against the wall and Felicity wasted no time in curling up in his lap, purring contentedly as he stroked her fur. It was a rare moment of peace for him, every time he goes out it's his free time from the prison with the awful guard that stayed in. He cherished moments like that more than anything and he wished to see Y/N again, so they can play together and maybe win another pack of candy.

As he enjoyed the quiet moment with the cat, he heard footsteps approaching. Turning his head, he saw the angel in disguise running towards him, clutching a poster in her hand that had a photo of the now sleeping pet. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her bright smile and eyes that were glossy, Did she cry?, he wondered but her sad face was quickly replaced upon seeing the boy.

"Michael!" the girl exclaimed, relief evident in her childish voice as she reached him. "Thank you for finding Felicity! I was so worried to where she could have gone."

A smile graced Michael's lips as he realized the cat belonged to her. No wonder it reminded him of someone he knew. "I didn't know it was yours," he admitted, still patting the sleeping feline. "She just followed me all day."

You chuckled, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "She has this habit of following people, though it was only family members and not one of my friends." The word friends echoed in Michael's mind, stirring something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. He looked into Y/N eyes, feeling something that he had never imagined to exist, as if he was lost in the galaxy with millions of stars to explore, falling deeper and deeper into the black holes, losing himself. What's this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast? He couldn't figure it out, what's happening inside him, and why is she the reason for it?

"And you know animals can sense if a person is good or not, so she chose you for a reason." Michael couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth at your words, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I'm glad I could help," he replied softly, his gaze still locked with yours. "And I'm glad you were here, because I was going to ask you to help me, but there is no need anymore."

There was a moment of silence between them, Michael shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next. But before he could gather his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice gentle and caring.

"Michael, are you okay?" she asked, eyes searching his face with concern. "Where did you hurt yourself?"

For a moment, panic gripped Michael's chest as he instinctively reached for the hood of his jacket, pulling it over his head to hide the scar his father had left that morning. "I fell very hard on the ground while dribbling," he lied, of course he would lie not to make her worry about his personal matters and mostly not to scare her, because what if she tells her parents about him being abused? It will not end well.

The girl frowned, clearly not convinced by his answer. But instead of pressing further, she reached into her bag and pulled out some pink bandages. "Sorry, it's the only color I have left," apologizing, a small smile playing on her lips as she gently applied the bandage to his forehead.

Michael's heart swelled as he watched Y/N tend to him with such care and kindness. Despite his best efforts to keep his struggles hidden, she always seemed to see right through him, offering comfort and support without hesitation. It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to, but one he found himself craving more and more with each passing day.

As she finished bandaging his wound, Michael couldn't help but meet the girl's gaze once again, his eyes soft and vulnerable — a child's look. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, but it was genuine.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N lips as she reached out to tuck a hair behind his ear, wanting to see his beautiful and gentle face. "Anytime, Michael, friends help eachother."

For twelve year old he thought she was very mature, always so kind, so gentle — a beacon of light in his otherwise dark world. He couldn't help but be jealous at her innocence and grace, hoping that she would never lose that spark, unlike him, cursed by the mistakes of two adults.

"Also I'm sorry for not showing up, I know you must have been waiting for me"

He just stared at the girl slowly nodding his head acknowledging what she said but he wasn't mad, not even in the slightest. The cat who slept in Michael's lap woke up and went to her owner "Felicity don't you run away like that!" Y/N scolded the cat but of course the animal just let out a 'meow' as she laughed enjoying a moment with her pet then she looked back at Michael who was still staring.

"Hey, Misha, do you want to play tomorrow?"

"Misha?" Y/N giggled, noticing Michael's uncertain expression at the nickname. "Sorry, is it okay if I call you Misha? It just popped into my head, and it's kinda cute, don't you think?"

Michael blinked, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he processed her words. "I mean, sure, yeah," he replied, his voice softening at the end. Looking doen kicking the ball with his feet to distract himself from the burning tension in his body. He couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him at the sound of her calling him by that name.

Y/N grinned, delighted by Michael's response. "Great! Misha it is then." She scooted closer, her excitement bubbling over. "So, tomorrow, let's meet at the playground at 14:00. We can play some soccer, swing on the swings, and I can give you the cookies I made. What do you say?"

Michael's heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with Y/N. "Yeah, that sounds cool," he said, his smile widening. "I'll be here."

As they continued chatting, Y/N suddenly leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Hey, Misha, can I ask you something more?"

"Yeah," Michael replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Y/N hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask, "Um, do you have a phone? I thought maybe we could exchange numbers so we can call eachother for when to play."

Michael's cheeks flushed even deeper as he nervously played with the ball. "Um, actually, I don't have a phone," he admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. "Sorry."

Y/N's smile didn't falter as she reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it," she reassured him "We can still meet up here at the playground whenever we want to hang out, okay? And if anyone of us doesn't show up we can always see eachother the next time."

A sense of relief washed over Michael as he gazed into Y/N's comforting gaze. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, feeling grateful for her understanding. With a bright smile the youngster nodded, her eyes filled with happiness. "See you tomorrow at 14:00 then?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," the young boy replied, his smile matching hers as they made plans for their next date. Y/N and Michael stood facing each other as the silence fell, but it was calm and pleasant, not oppressive as if they were expecting some monster to come out of nowhere.

"Thanks for looking after Felicity," Y/N said softly, leaning in and planting a quick kiss on Michael's cheek, it was a tender action, making him melt on the spot, something so simple meant a lot — it was his first kiss, his first touch filled not with anger and hatred but instead of love and care. She was causing his heart to flutter even more, was it not enough for his heart to beat so fast earlier?

"It was no problem," Michael replied, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. With a shy smile, she turned to leave, her cat cradled in her arms. Watching her go, feeling a sense of longing already creeping into his chest as he didn't want this moment to end, not now, not ever. Michael touched his cheek gently, still feeling the warmth of her lips lingering there, is this what it feels like to be blessed with angel's grace? He hopes he will get to experience it again. Realizing he was standing alone in the fading light, the sounds of laughter and play fading into the distance.

He took a deep breath and he was infront of his home, his heart now heavy with the weight of the inevitable goodbye and the welcoming sounds of glass breaking.

Opening the door he was met with his drunk father who was watching TV but he didn't seem entertained and the bottles and trash on the ground made it for the energy in the house. But before the boy stepped further into the room he removed the patch from his forehead because he knew there would be even more scars if a bystander helped him and he wanted to keep Y/N safe.

His father's eyes snapped towards him, bloodshot and furious.

"Why the hell aren't you home earlier?" His father's voice boomed, shaking the walls of their small house. "I told you to be back hours ago, you useless piece of shit!"

The boy swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to appease his father's anger. "I'm sorry, Dad. I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time?" His father's voice rose, the frustration palpable in every word as he got up from the couch. "And where's the damn alcohol I asked you to bring,huh?"

The boy's heart sank. He had hoped his father wouldn't notice, but the empty bottles strewn across the floor were impossible to miss. "I... I couldn't find any," he stammered, knowing it was a feeble excuse.

The older man's face turned a dangerous shade of red. His eyes widened, his pupils narrowed, and the emotions he displayed were enough to scare anyone. Maybe it's better for his mother that she's gone so she doesn't have to see this, even though that she is the cause of everything. "Couldn't find any? You stupid pig..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the boy's father lunged towards him, his words drowned out by a tidal wave of anger and disappointment. The boy braced himself for the onslaught, knowing that this was just another night in their tumultuous existence. But amidst the chaos, he made a silent vow to be stronger so he can have another day to see his angel.

With a swift motion, his father's hand connected with his cheek, the same cheek Y/N kissed him now is tarnished, sending him crashing to the ground. He layed there, stunned and helpless, as his father's tirade continued, the sound of breaking glass punctuating each sentence. There was no defense, no escape from the torrent of anger that engulfed him. All he could do was endure, his body trembling with fear and resignation but he was already so used to it.

Each blow, both physical and verbal, carved deeper into his already bruised soul. But through the haze of pain and despair, one thought burned brighter than the rest: he had to stay strong, for her. For the hope of a better tomorrow, where he could see his blessing sent from above, but why isn't he blessed with good fortune right now? Is his suffering not enough, dear God?

As his father's rage finally subsided, leaving only a hollow silence in its wake, the boy clung to that flicker of hope, knowing it was all he had to hold onto. Will something be different? But this day will be over when the minute and second hands overlap as the world holds its breath for a little while.

Felicity means happiness, good fortune

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 7

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: For everyone who has Easter plans tomorrow (Happy Easter!), I decided to release this part a bit early. And yes, we’re at that part of the season 3 plotline…

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Major angst, survival situations, violence, hurt/comfort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife

Beau returned home that night with a large pizza for Carla and Emily. He’d already eaten with you an hour ago, but true to his legendary appetite, he still found room for a slice of pepperoni. They got comfortable around the fire out in front of his trailer.

“What held you up?” Carla asked.

Beau sighed and first wiped a bit of sauce from his face with a napkin. He admitted there was an altercation between you and your ex-boyfriend, Michael Hadley. Beau happened to be there in time to settle things down and help patch you up after you fell through a glass coffee table.

“Oh my God. Is she okay?” Emily asked. Beau noted her concern with a smile.

“She’s fine. Some minor cuts and bruises,” he said. “But I had to encourage the guy to leave town. If he’s got any sense, he’ll get gone.”

Emily looked relieved at that. Then she eyed him with a suspicious smile.

“And you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” she asked slyly, voicing the thought that Carla hadn’t wanted to.

Both women watched him closely, but Carla knew the tell-tale signs of Beau covering his embarrassment, giving his daughter a wry look.

“All right, smart Alec. Why don’t you break out the extra sheets I got in the trailer? We’ll set up the bed and the couch.”

“If you can call that glorified bench a couch,” Emily muttered with a grin. 

“Ey!” Beau called after her, though he watched her go in amusement.

After a couple more hours of chatting and catching up, showers taken and plates washed, Emily headed for bed. The adults stayed up for a while, bundled in warm coats as they sat together by the fire.

Beau remembered what Emily told him days ago; that he hadn’t needed to be a perfect man for his wife and daughter. They’d just needed him to be a bit more honest about what he was going through, to let them in. After what happened today with you, your patience and understanding with him…he was beginning to get what she meant.

“I’m really thankful for you helping us,” Carla said. It unearthed him out of his own head.

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.

Admittedly, he was still a bit distracted. Besides how he left things with you (which still made heat crawl up the back of his neck), he still had Avery and that stolen money to worry about. Otherwise known as the reason Carla and Emily would have to cram themselves in his little trailer.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Carla prodded, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just got a bad feeling about all this,” he confessed. “It’s like in Houston with Randy.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You can’t go there.”

“It’s too late,” he replied. “‘Cause it feels the same. Like something’s…something is comin’, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

“Randy’s death was not your fault,” she reminded him. Just like you had.

Beau looked over at her with a humorless quirk of his lips.

“We both know that’s not true. He was my partner and I let him down. And then…then I wasn’t there for you, or Emily. I don’t blame you for leaving me.”

Carla couldn’t help it, but a part deep inside her had been regretting that choice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She managed to blink and keep them at bay, though she let out a shaky breath.

“Well, you’re here for us now,” she said. And yet, she could’ve predicted his next words like clockwork.

“It don’t make up for the way I checked out,” he said.

Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed down the emotion clogging her throat. She didn’t cry often. She could have an ironclad grip on her emotions when she needed to.

It was part of what made her a good lawyer. She knew Beau had sometimes gotten frustrated with that aspect of her personality in the past, because he was the opposite.

The man kept a good lid on things for his job, but at heart, he was driven by his passion, his anger, his love, and right now, his bone-deep guilt and shame.

She knew he’d been drowning in it for a year and hadn’t known how to pull him out. Every time he pushed her away, it had hurt her, hardened her, making her will to try again less and less. So she left him. 

It was the choice she made, and she knew she had to live with it. Just like marrying Avery.

Carla laid a hand on Beau’s over his knee. She made sure he looked her in the eyes when she said this.

“I forgive you. For all of that, okay?” she said. After a moment, he nodded. This time, she felt like he actually heard her.

“But I’m telling you, this thing with Avery…this isn’t over by a long shot,” he told her. “I’m not saying that to scare you. You understand that?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, even though those tears from earlier were working their way down her face. She wiped them away hastily.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you two,” Beau said, in a firm, reassuring tone.

It worked, and it didn’t. Carla nodded again. “I know.”

He sighed through his nose and squeezed her hand. His gaze shifted away, back to the bonfire dancing in front of them. His eyes stung at both the smoke, and the emotion rising in his chest. He steeled himself.

“Carla, I’ll always love you…”

She smiled slightly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheek.

“Though I sense a but coming,” she said.

When she said your name in question, Beau glanced back over at her and nodded. Carla had been his first real love, besides Daisy Harlow in the eleventh grade.

But you were unexpected. How quickly, how deeply you’d gotten under his skin was too hard to ignore. And at this point, he didn’t want to.

Meanwhile, Carla stared at her ex-husband in bemusement. She slipped her hand from his and folded hers back in her lap.

“What’s she like?” she asked. Half of her was genuinely curious. The other half would rather not hear his answer, but she supposed it was only fair. She was the one who moved on first.

Still, the flicker of Beau’s soft smile stung, just a little.

“She’s special,” he said. “Resilient, like you. And smart to boot. You know she’s a college professor?”

“Yeah, Emily told me,” Carla said. 

Beau’s smile dimmed when he noted the resignation in her voice. She gave him a knowing look. 

“I have no right to complain,” she said. “And you deserve to be happy too, Beau.”    

He considered that with a nod. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but for your sake…he would try.

“Can you promise me something?” Carla asked. 

“Name it,” he said.

“I know Avery is in this thing deep. He lied to me and he created this mess. Even when this is over, I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please, look out for him,” she implored. Beau uttered a wry chuckle and rubbed at his chin.

“He is in this deep. And he’s being stubborn about it,” he said. “I might not be able to help him walk it back, but I will try.”  

Carla released another sigh and nodded in response. She supposed that was the best she could hope for. 

A few days later, you walked up and down the grocery store aisles with a basket in one hand and your phone against your ear with the other.

“Okay, I’ve got all manners of junk food and chick-flick movie watching snacks, including Reese’s cups, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and no less than three bottles of wine,” you said. “Am I missing anything?”

“I don’t think so, hun. That sounds very comprehensive,” Denise replied.

She was at work, and you were still getting ready for the fall semester. It was only a little over a month away, which meant you were excited, and also nervous.

You had five classes on your roster. You’d also visited Carroll College yesterday to set up your office with all your books, both textbooks and your favorites in fiction and non-fiction (but mostly fiction). Much Ado About Nothing was front and center in the Shakespeare section of your shelf.

You also wanted to at least try and relax for the rest of your summer. Denise was all too willing to help. You’d always had a good relationship with your aunt, albeit distant, since you’d lived in different states.

Living so close now just made you realize how much you two had in common. It was nice to find a friend in her, not just someone who would try to mother you in your own mother’s absence. 

“Yes! Good. Then get ready to brainstorm what movies we’re gonna watch tonight, and in what order,” you said.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t already have a color-coded checklist,” Denise quipped.

You laughed. Yes, she knew you too well. “Okay, maybe I do, but you still get a vote.”

You turned a corner in the aisles and nearly ran right into Carla, who was pushing a cart. You both jolted in surprise and recognition.

“Oh, hi! I’m sorry,” you said, at the same time she said, “Sorry, I…”

You two did the polite, nervous laughter people did when put in awkward situations. You noticed all the food she had in her cart—enough to feed a family of three for the week.

“Yeah, finally getting around to doing a grocery run,” she said. “Beau’s trailer leaves much to be desired in the form of amenities, so…”

You adopted a more amused smile. “Yeah, he’s not much of a cook, is he?”

“Do frozen fish sticks count?” Carla remarked.

“Only if there’s expired tartar sauce, according to Emily,” you joked. The two of you shared a laugh that was a little more genuine. You chatted for a couple minutes more before you parted with amiable handwaving. Then you realized that your aunt was still hanging on the line.

You sighed and put your phone back up to your ear. “Hey, sorry.”

“Was that who I think it was?” Denise asked. She was probably trying to be cryptic, if Emily was in the room with her.

“Indeed, it was. Doing a nice family-sized grocery run,” you whispered back, to make sure you weren’t overheard. You brought your basket of junk to one of the checkout lines.

“When was the last time you heard from him?” Denise asked. She must’ve heard the heaviness in your voice. You both knew exactly who “him” was code for. Beau friggin’ Arlen.

“Not since we said goodbye last week,” you replied. And the memory of that kiss had been torturing you for days. It had also been the fuel of many…late nights with yourself.

Speaking of which, need some more AA batteries, you thought with a warm blush.

“Okay, forget candy. We should get cheesecake,” Denise proposed.

You smiled. “You know what, that’s a damn good idea. Definitely cheesecake.”

You hopped out of line to do just that. You knew it probably wouldn’t be as good as Chicago made, but you went over to the bakery side of the store and hunted for the most good-looking cheesecake you could find.

“Hey, if you want, stop by here later,” your aunt said. “Em is here. We’ll grab lunch, make it a real girls’ day.”

“Sure,” you agreed. You hadn’t seen Emily in a week or so either. “Where are you thinking? I’ve been wanting to try that Indian place down the street from your office.”

“Sounds good to me. Come over after you drop those groceries off at home.”

“Okay, will do. I’ll see you guys soon!” you said. 

Beau knew that he was going to be working straight through lunch. What he, Jenny, and Cassie had discovered in the past 24 hours was deeply unsettling. 

Not only was Walter Sunny Barnes’s son, but Paige was alive. She’d been found in the foyer of Sunny’s home, brandishing a knife, convinced the married couple were in it together on her kidnapping. Sunny claimed she’d had no idea her husband had taken the poor girl and kept her in a shack for days.

According to Paige’s testimony, Buck Barnes had tried to kill her. And since she was alive, it meant Walter had lied in confessing to her murder. It was also likely that he hadn’t killed Mary or Luke either.

That wasn’t even the worst of Beau’s headache.

He rubbed his face in frustration after getting off the phone with Carla. Thanks to this whole business of Avery’s stolen cryptocurrency, she was being followed. 

Fuckin’ hell, Beau thought. The next time he saw Avery, it had better be with handcuffs, or he was going to start working on his punch list for real. Instead, Beau grabbed his cell and called his daughter.

“Hey, Dad,” she answered on the third ring.

“Hey, honey. You doin’ all right? You good?” he asked. Maybe he was coming on a little strong, but worry was a living thing inside his gut.

“Yeah, totally. Just doing some research…but guess who’s coming to have lunch with us later?” she asked.

Her tone was leading him somewhere, and Beau thought he knew the destination. His lips curved with a half-smile. When he guessed your name, Emily confirmed.

“You’re welcome to join us. If, you know, you wanted to,” she teased.

Beau’s smile twisted with disbelief. Was his daughter trying to set him up? And better yet, it seemed like she liked you well enough to do it. While the thought warmed him, his smile dimmed.

“Wish I could, but uh, I got a lot of work here to do. I’m just…checking up on ya, like dads do,” he said.

As much as he wanted to see you (and he really, really did), he wasn’t lying. He needed to follow up on the man who’d trailed Carla to the drycleaners this morning. And he already had Jenny and Poppernak looking into finding Buck Barnes. He’d fled the scene after Paige and Sunny were picked up at the Barnes residence.

“Well, okay, consider me checked. We can talk later if you want,” Emily said. She sounded a bit disappointed. Beau felt guilty for that, but he’d make it up to her tonight. Maybe he’d bring home some takeout so Carla didn’t have to cook again in his tiny kitchenette.

“All right, honey. If not, I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Just…don’t go anywhere by yourself, okay? Make sure Denise or Cassie’s with you. Matter of fact, I’ll pick you up from there today.”

“Yeah sure,” she said. Though he didn’t think she really heard the warning in his voice.

“‘Kay. Bye, Dad.”

She hung up, leaving Beau still feeling off-balanced. Until news came in from a fellow officer: while Paige had been brought to the hospital, Sunny Barnes had been brought into the station for questioning about her husband.

“Sorry I’m so late. I started cleaning my apartment and lost track of time,” you said, walking into the office of Dewell & Hoyt. Denise and Emily waved at you from their respective desks.

“That’s okay. We’ve been busy here,” Denise said. You looked at the large pinboard on the wall filled with news clippings and pieces of evidence. Bleeding Heart Killer, read many of the subject lines.

“Ech. Still working on this?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” said Denise. She grabbed up her purse and went over to kiss your cheek in greeting. “But we might’ve gotten a huge break on it. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.��

“Get back? Where’re you going?” you asked.

“To get the food! I already placed the orders,” she said, patting your arm. “I’ll be right back.”

You gave her a narrowed look. “I was going to pay for it—”

“No need!” Denise sing-songed on her way out of the office. It had you smiling, shaking your head. You looked over at Emily and tossed a thumb over your shoulder.

“Careful with her. She can be devious,” you said.

Emily smiled and stood up from her desk. She went over to sit with you on the small couch near the center of the room.

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”

“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.

“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.

Natural light still came in from the large windows at the front. It was odd though. The weather outside, while chilly, wasn’t cold enough to create an outage. You hadn’t heard anything fizzle when the lights went out either.

“That’s weird—” Emily said.

The back door burst open with the sound of hinges breaking. Both of you gasped and stood from the couch. You slipped a hand into your purse to find your phone, and then the first contact you could think of.

You were about to press the call button when a tall man with broad shoulders stepped through. He was older, balding, and his clothes and neck were stained with blood.

Buck Barnes.

“Buck?” you gasped. “What…what’re you doing here?”

He didn’t look like the easy going, kind-hearted man you knew at the camp. Now, he looked haggard, injured, and dangerous, like a wild animal.

“Hush up,” Buck held up a silver pistol in his right hand. “And drop that phone, nice and slow.”

Your heart was in your throat, but you couldn’t just think of yourself. You subtly tried to pull Emily behind you as you set your phone down on the ground.

“You tried to kill Paige,” Emily accused of the man. It had you turning to her, your eyes going wide. When you looked over at Buck to gauge his reaction, you saw how his lips pursed.

“Sit down and shut up,” Buck ordered, gesturing with his gun at both of you. He drew closer and forced you and Emily to sit beside each other on the couch. There he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began taping your shaking hands together.

“Why’re you doing this?” you asked Buck.

“I need some collateral if I’m gonna get the hell outta dodge,” he replied.

“Fine, but let Emily go. She’s just a kid,” you begged, as tears stung at your eyes.

Buck just continued taping you up. Thankfully not your feet, just your wrists. He moved to Emily next. 

“You don’t need her,” you tried again. “Come on, Buck. You really think Beau Arlen’s going to want to work something out with you if you take his daughter?”

“Oh, I’m bettin’ he’ll be more than willing.” Buck grabbed you and placed a strip of tape across your mouth, then on Emily’s. He hooked a large, calloused hand around your arm.

“Now get up.”

“What?!” Beau asked. His eyes widened in alarm. “Slow down, Denise. What’s going on?”

The more he listened, the more his heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to grip his work desk for balance.

It took him and Jenny under half an hour to meet up with Cassie and Denise back at Dewell & Hoyt, along with a forensics unit of officers. There was evidence of struggle in a turned over table and a broken back door lock.

Denise explained that she left you and Emily for just a few minutes while she went to grab a late lunch order. By the time she returned, the power was out, set off by the breakers, and you and Emily were missing.

Jenny found your purse on the couch, while Beau found your cell phone on the ground. He picked it up with a gloved hand. He’d seen you unlock your phone enough times to remember your passcode.

When he inputted those six numbers and unlocked the screen, he found his own name and phone number highlighted there. You’d been about to call him.

He squeezed your phone tight in his hand. He looked up and saw another officer pick up Emily’s backpack.

“No power means no surveillance footage,” Jenny said. “Okay, let’s think. Why take her and Emily?”

“It’s gotta do with Avery and the money he stole,” Beau said, grinding his teeth. “I needa find him.”

“Any idea where he might be held up?” Jenny asked.

“Carla will know,” he replied.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Jenny was quick to offer. She could see his rage bubbling.

“No,” he said, cutting her off with a swift hand. “Get a response team ready, but I don’t want anybody doing anything without checking with me!”

He was out the door before any of the women could stop him. Denise was in tears, both for you and for Emily. Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“We’re gonna find them,” she promised.

You and Emily were in the backseat of an SUV. Buck was singing along to some country song, driving them down a highway to hell knows where. 

The tears had begun to dry on your cheeks. It didn’t mean you were no longer petrified, but for Emily, to give her support, you’d been able to keep breathing through it. She was still in panic mode, hyperventilating as tears streamed down her face.

“Y’all better quiet down back there,” Buck warned.

You grabbed Emily’s hands and met her frantic eyes with your calmer ones. You were hoping to reassure her, let her know that while you were scared too, you were with her. She wasn’t alone.

She squeezed your hands back, even though it made you wince. Your right hand was still injured. Again, you breathed through it so you could hold her back. You rested the side of your head against hers to try and help steady her further. If you could, you would’ve held her like a mother bear.

Emily leaned against your side and began to calm down, bit by bit. Meanwhile, Buck continued to talk your ears off—about country music, and how this particular song was the one he and Sunny danced to at their wedding. Though frankly, you couldn’t give a shit about anything that was coming out of his mouth.

All you knew was that it was nighttime, pitch black darkness by the time he pulled into a plaza. It looked like a gas station next to a bar.

Only in Montana, you mused. Though you perked up at attention when Buck parked and actually left the car.

Of course, he took the keys with him and put the child locks on the doors, but you tugged at the duct tape Buck put around your ankles when he’d forced you and Emily into this car. If you could get free, then you could shove your way into the front seat and unlock the doors.

Emily tried to help you. You winced as the tape tugged at your skin. At least I shaved yesterday.

She gasped around her gag when she saw a young man coming their way in the parking lot. You joined her in banging on the window, trying to get his attention.

“Oh my God,” you heard him say, muffled as it was through the window. You pointed at the front of the car, trying to communicate to him to break the window open there.

“Hold on, I’ll get you guys out of there,” he said. He went to the front of the car and tried at the door handles, but before he could get very far in his attempt to free you, Buck came up behind the younger man and grabbed him in a chokehold.

You and Emily screamed at him, but it was no use. You did your best to shield Emily’s eyes when Buck snapped the man’s neck.

Bad call, bad leadership, bad police work.

Beau felt the weight of his shame like never before—all while he held Carla and rocked her in his arms. She’d just arrived at the police station, after getting the news that her husband had been killed.

When he learned that Emily was taken, Avery tried to help Beau and the police confront the men he’d stolen the $15 million from, but Avery had gone rogue by bringing a gun into the equation.

Beau had just one chance to pull Avery out and send in his unit of officers on standby. Jenny had asked him what he wanted to do, hoping he would make the right choice.

Beau had been selfish. He wanted to see if the men would give up the location on where they were holding you and Emily, so he kept Avery in play. He’d thought the man would be fine with Tonya and Donno backing him up in the room.

After all was said and done, however, Avery lay dead in a pool of his own blood with a bullet in his chest. The criminals also hadn’t taken you or Emily.

By process of elimination, Beau now knew it was Buck. The man had already killed a hiker on his way out of the woods, where he’d been holding Paige.

Now it was a whole new manhunt.

“Beau,” Jenny said. “We have something on Buck.”

It prompted him to drag himself out of the dark spiral of his thoughts. He let Carla go, but kept a supportive hand on her back. She was still distraught, and understandably so—not just for her husband, but for her missing daughter.

Jenny gave Carla a sympathetic look. She beckoned him over though.

“Come see this,” she said.

Beau comforted Carla one moment more, rubbing her back, but she encouraged him to go with Jenny. She led him into another room where Cassie was waiting for them, and Jenny’s laptop was connected to a smart TV.

On the screen was new surveillance footage of a parking lot, outside a bar a few hours out of town. There was a green pickup truck parked next to a black SUV. Beau couldn’t see you or Emily, but he watched Buck drag the dead body of a man behind the truck.

“Buck was casing the lot for a car to steal,” Jenny said. “We’re guessing this unlucky guy found them.”

“It means they’re still alive,” Cassie pointed out. Jenny drew attention to the keys, or whatever it was that Buck dropped and picked up off the floor. It was hard to make out from the footage.

Cassie agreed to ask Cormack Barnes if he knew what the keys were for, considering he already had the keys to the pickup trick in his hand when he picked up the fallen set. Beau knew it was time to question Sunny Barnes again.

He headed down the hall to do just that, with Jenny on his heels. Soon though, he found himself slowing down in the hall, like his feet were made of rubber. That, and his heart was fracturing. Jenny slowed down with him, giving him a questioning look.

“It’s just…it’s the one thing we’re supposed to do. Protect our kids,” he said. “The one thing.”

“Hey,” she said. Her blue eyes were understanding. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”

And yet again, they both knew that was a lie. Beau held a curled fist against his lips for a moment, as he tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat.

“She’s gotta be so scared, Jenny,” he said. His eyes stung, but he tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasn’t working.

“Both of them,” he said. “They’ve gotta be terrified. And every minute we waste chasing our tails just gives that twisted son a bitch a chance to do something to them—”

Jenny grabbed his arm to steady him. “I still think he’s keeping them alive for leverage.”

“Well, I hope you’re right, because there’s nothing stopping him from making an example from one of them,” he said.

But the moment it escaped his lips, he wished he hadn’t uttered the thought out loud. It was too much.

He felt like a failure of a father. That was already destroying him from the inside out. And though he’d vowed to himself otherwise, you got dragged into this too.

You’d already been through the wringer enough. Beau hadn’t even checked in on you in damn near a week since he left your apartment the last time.

Now, you’d been taken by the very same man who murdered your friend Mary. Beau hadn’t had the chance to tell you…

He hadn’t been able to tell you a lot of things.

And maybe, he’d never get the chance.

The pickup truck Buck stole had a small trailer attached, convenient for stuffing you and Emily in, along with the corpse he’d made of the truck’s owner.

On the long and bumpy ride down the road, you’d been able to search the dead man’s jeans and found a small pocketknife. You pressed a small button to click the blade open. You showed it to Emily, and then tried to cut her bonds.

You only got halfway through when the truck and trailer stopped. Moments later, you smelled gas. Buck was probably stopping for a refill on the pickup truck. You closed the knife and hid it in your hands. That instinct turned out to be a good one, because Buck slid the trailer door open.

You and Emily winced as the bright morning sun hit your bleary eyes. Not only had you not slept all night, but you’d gotten used to the perpetual darkness of the trailer.

“You girls behaving yourselves back here?” Buck asked.

You and Emily stayed quiet, but fearful. He stepped into the trailer to lower your taped gag, and then the girl’s. He uncapped a water bottle to give her some. It was a strangely humane thing to do, you thought.

But then you realized that he just didn’t want you two to pass out of dehydration. He was trying to keep you alive long enough to use you as bargaining chips.

“My dad’s going to find you,” Emily said, staring up at your captor. Buck chuckled at her cheek.

“You want water or not?” he asked.

“And when he does, he’s gonna kill you,” she said. Buck rolled his eyes and gave her a few sips of water. He offered the bottle to you next.

Instead of drinking, you used his distraction and proximity to pop open the pocketknife and jab it at his face. He pulled back fast, but you managed to sink the three-inch little blade into his neck. Buck backhanded you so hard, it made the side of your face crack against the back of the trailer.

Emily screamed and tried to catch you when you accidentally fell on her shoulder. When you recovered after a bit, blinking the black splotches out of your vision, Buck punched at the spot right above your heads and made you both flinch. By then, he’d taken the little knife out of his neck, even though it made a new wound ooze blood down his shirt.

“Forgot to check his pockets,” he gritted out. His anger then bled away, into a dark chuckle. “Gettin’ a little rusty.”

He poured out the rest of the water over your boots, but he didn’t make any further threats. At least, not physically. He stepped away and began to exit the trailer.

“Next time it’ll be gasoline and a lighter,” he warned. “Now both of you, shut the fuck up.”

Then he closed the door, casting you and Emily into darkness once again.

“You okay?” Emily whispered. You could barely make out her face in the dim light, coming from the smallest crack in the trailer door. You rolled your head her way so you could give her a smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied. Truthfully, your head was ringing and aching at the same time. Buck had knocked you out for a few seconds there. Plus, you were exhausted, and hungry, and parched.

“At least the gags are off,” she said. You nodded, letting out a sigh. You welcomed her to rest on your shoulder and tucked her wrapped hands under yours.

“We’ve just gotta keep holding out,” you said. “I’m sure your dad is on the way.”

Emily nodded in agreement. She believed every word of what she’d told Buck. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

It was much, much later.

Still, you and Emily were no better off. Actually, you were pretty sure this was worse.

Buck had driven you deep into the woods, then forced you to walk what felt like another half-mile until you reached a dusty old shack. He’d unlocked it and forced you both inside, kneeling in the dirt and dead leaves. Along with the duct tape already around your wrists, he’d tied you both up with ropes around the metal hooks hanging from the short roof.

Even with the gags off, it was hard to breathe in the hot, stuffy woodshed. It felt similar to being buried in a box and left to rot.

You weren’t sure how many hours it had been, but the sun was slowly inching by. If you had to guess, it was around mid-afternoon. You were sweating down your neck and back, now uncomfortable while kneeling in the jeans you were wearing. And sometimes, your vision started to blur in and out.

By now you were beyond hunger. Dying of thirst? Quite possibly.

“How’re you doing?” you asked Emily. She nodded, but she didn’t have much energy to talk either.

So instead, you tried to twist your wrists out of the rope. Very quickly you gave yourself burns, however. Buck had tied your bonds so very tight, not to mention the duct tape underneath.

What a fucking asshole, you thought. He could’ve at least left a bottle of water. Or some protein bars.

“How are they supposed to find us out here?” Emily asked. Her voice was small and coarse with exhaustion. You nudged her knee in comfort.

“The police will get it out of Buck, I’m sure,” you said. “Even if Beau can’t, damn certain Jenny will.”

You gave her a smile. Emily tried to smile back, but she didn’t quite make it there.

“God, I’m so thirsty,” she coughed.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “All we can do is keep trying to get loose.”

You both tried twisting out of the ropes for a while, but it was no use. You were just going to bruise or cut your wrists further through the tape.

You knew that you and Emily had been in the woods for hours at this point, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. You tried not think about how unlikely it would be that someone actually heard you, let alone found you.

You knew you were the adult in this situation. You had to keep it together for the girl beside you, but after a while, a feeling of desperation and despair rose up again in your chest, no matter how hard you fought it all.

Tears welled up in your eyes, though you tried to breathe through it. Emily nudged your arm this time, giving you a comforting look.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered. “I know Dad’s coming for us.”

Your lip wobbled, but you nodded and sucked in a breath. If she could be strong, then you could too…

And that was when you started to hear voices. You knew they weren’t just in your head, because Emily perked up too. You both called out the best you could to whoever was out there.

You squinted watery eyes when the door to the shed finally slid open.

Beau tested the limitations of Jenny’s SUV on his way out from the woods, and then back into them. 

At the very least, Buck was dead. 

Sunny had shot him—before they had gotten a location on you and Emily. Beau had been about to have a serious breakdown before Cassie called him. 

“They found them,” he’d told Jenny, with red and shining eyes. 

In another five miles, they reached the old cabin. Cassie had said there was a woodshed attached on the south side. Beau tore out of the car and sprinted up a hill, through a patch of dense trees, until he found the cabin and the shed. 

Cassie and Cormack were talking to someone just out of Beau’s eyeline, but his gaze focused on his daughter. The moment Emily saw him, she brightened and ran to him. He met her in the middle, grabbing her tight and secure in his arms.

His tears burned in his eyes and fell as he held her, comforted her, rubbing her back. She held onto him just as tightly.

He struggled and failed to keep himself together. Relief wasn’t even the word for how he felt; it was beyond words.

And it was almost unreal to be able to hold his daughter and see that she didn’t look hurt, just shaken.

“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. “God, I’ve got you.”

Letting out the deepest breath, Beau’s gaze ventured past his daughter and up ahead. There he found you, being supported by Cassie up the hill. Beau’s eyes widened.

You were rubbing your wrists. They looked raw. Your eyes were also red and watery when they met his. Your breath seemed to catch as well.

Your name fell from Beau’s lips, his voice breaking. Emily looked up at her dad and had to smile. She even made room for you when you came up on his other side. Beau still kept his daughter tucked against him, but he reached for you as well and brought you into his embrace.

He felt your body shaking with quiet, wracking sobs. His heart broke for it, but he soothed a hand over your knotted hair and down your back.

“Shh, it’s okay now,” he whispered in your ear. His voice was choked with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’."

Never gonna let you go again, he thought.

You nodded, sniffling, but you kept your face buried against his chest.

Eventually, you lifted your head to meet his kind, if tearful eyes. He was a mess, and so were you. He was right though; you knew that it was all right now, as long as he was here.

You looked over at Emily, who was still hanging onto her father. You touched her shoulder.

“You okay?” you asked through tears. She nodded back at you with a smile.

“Good,” Beau said. “Let’s get you two home.”

You realized then that you were clinging to him like…like he was yours. 

“Oh,” you uttered, releasing his shirt. “I‘m sorry.” 

Beau’s eyes widened at the way you pulled away from him, unconsciously lowering your gaze. He frowned, and he pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, so you’d look at him again. 

“Don’t you do that,” he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.

Almost every cell in his body said to pull you back in. To sink his fingers in your hair, and to kiss you.

But he noticed Jenny, Cassie, Cormack, and even his daughter watching with some kind of smile on their faces. You stared up at him, teary eyed and waiting.

Beau cleared his throat.

He hesitated a bit too long, warring with himself all the while. So he just stroked your cheek and guided you, along with his daughter to the car.

You and Emily were going home.

AN: 🫣 Lol please don't hate me for the little tease at the end there. But how did you like how all the action and drama of the kidnapping unfolded?

Don't think this is the finale though. We've still got some drama and fun things to come. (Also, I think it's funny how this next particular chapter is going to post on my birthday lol.)

Next Time:

“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”

“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”

It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.

“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.

You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[keerysfreckles]

stay here - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (no movie spoilers bc i haven't seen it yet im just obsessed with mike) fluff! fluff! fluff! like one makeout scene but thats it

enjoy!

to say babysitting michael schmidt's little sister, abby, was easy would be a lie. mike called you earlier that day, right before his shift started, and asked if you could look over abby until he got home. at the end of the call he mentioned his hours were shorter, and earlier than normal, so he wouldn't be home too late.

it was currently eleven pm. abby's supposed to be in bed by ten-thirty, and nothing was working. y/n tried calming her down with a disney movie. she even colored with her in her makeshift fort in her room. but nothing worked, she was as hyper as ever.

"abby, please! we both know you're going to be tired tomorrow and you have school," y/n pleads.

"but i'm not tired," abby groans, rolling over dramatically on the couch.

"you know what? fine. i'll just tell mike you weren't listening to me," y/n sends abby an evil smile. abby perks up, and sits up to lean on the arm of the couch to look at y/n.

"no! no no no! he said if i was good all week he'd buy me something from the store."

y/n crosses her arms and leans against the hallway wall, opposite of the couch. "looks like you're going to have to listen to me afterall."

"but i'm still not tired," abby groans again, but walks over towards y/n.

y/n looked down at the girl in front of her. she saw the small bags under her eyes, and noticed her eyes kept closing every so often.

an idea popped into y/n's head, "why don't you go lay down, and i'll be in in ten minutes, yeah?"

abby nodded, confused by the request, but still nodded nonetheless and walked down the hallway and towards her room. y/n watched for a moment before abby was fully inside her room. she knew abby was most likely to fall asleep once her head hit the pillow. now she only had to kill two hours until mike would be home.

y/n and mike have known each other for three years. y/n moved into the one story house that was unoccupied in mike's neighborhood. the town wasn't used to newcomers, so of course y/n was the talk of the town for her first two weeks there.

it wasn't until a month later when y/n was on her morning run on a saturday, and had bumped into michael. she was instantly confused when she noticed he was in his work uniform, and on the way back to his house. the two made light conversation, and ended up at y/n's that night for a movie marathon.

about a month after that, mike knocked on y/n's front door, and properly asked her if she wanted to go on a date with him. of course the girl agreed, and that was the first date of many for the couple.

which leaves y/n in the position she's in - babysitting abby.

when mike and y/n officially started dating abby interrogated the girl. asking her a bunch of questions, some more personal than others, which mike quickly interjected. abby gave mike the idea of having y/n watch over her, instead of having to pay random strangers. mike obviously agreed.

y/n settled herself on the couch and put on a random horror movie that was on tv. she couldn't even get past the opening as her eyes closed and her body went limp from tiredness.

she grabbed the blanket at the other end of the couch before fully letting sleep embrace her.

the only time y/n woke up was when she heard the doorknob rattling. she turned slightly, to look over the back of the couch, and saw her boyfriend walking through the doorway.

"shit, were you sleeping?" mike asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it by the front door.

y/n sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "yeah, but i can go. abby's asleep so i did my job pretty well," she chuckles.

"thank you again. and you know you can stay babe, i don't mind the comapny," michael smiles.

y/n couldn't help but notice how on edge mike looked as soon as he walked inside.

"are you okay?" she asks softly, still sitting on the couch.

mike nods as he sits down beside her, "yeah, just a long night." he leans over and kisses her cheek, causing y/n's cheeks to turn pink.

"do you want to talk about it?" y/n moves her leg to rest her chin on her knee, as mike's eyes glaze over the tv screen before turning fully towards his girlfriend.

"william was just on my ass before my shift, and vanessa had so much energy tonight, i just couldn't handle it. and it felt like time was going so slow tonight," mike's voice was quiet. y/n could tell he had a rough night as he rubbed his eyes.

y/n leans forward and turns off the tv, making mike slightly confused. "is there anything i can do to cheer you up?" y/n stands in front of mike and holds her hands out. he immediately takes her hands in his as he stands with her. mike leans forward and kisses y/n's forehead.

"can you just stay here tonight?" mike's voice almost seems desperate, as if y/n's presence was the only thing keeping him going right now.

y/n nods, "i'll always stay if you ask me to," she smiles as mike closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

"was abby okay tonight?" mike asked, pulling away, but still keeping their hands connected.

"she was good, until trying to get her to go to bed. but you didn't hear that from me," this caused mike to let out a small laugh.

the couple, with one of their hands linked with each other's, went down the hallway. mike stopped y/n and opened abby's bedroom door quietly. y/n stood beside mike and held onto his arm with her free hand, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

the pair were met with abby sleeping under her blanket. small snores escaped her lips. y/n leaned up and kissed mike's jaw, before whispering, "c'mon, i know you need sleep just as much as she does."

y/n pulls mike into his room, which was at this point their shared room. mike had two drawers of his dresser specifically for y/n, vice verse in y/n's room. mike stepped into the bathroom and they both got ready for the night, in the most comfortable clothes they own.

y/n was already laying down under the sheets once mike came out of the bathroom. even laying there, he thought y/n looked so effortlessly beautiful.

"why are you staring at me like that?" y/n asks as she watches mike slide into the bed next to her.

"what? i can't stare at my pretty girl?" mike leans forward and kisses y/n on the lips, as he brings his left hand to her cheek. he rolls over, so his right arm is on the mattress, as he hovers over y/n. her hands move to his waist, slowing moving to his lower back.

their lips molded with one another's, and y/n could almost sense the stress leaving mike's body.

mike barely pulled away, leaving little to no space in between the two, "i love you so much."

y/n smiled, "i love you too."

she leaned up to kiss him once more, and mike playfully rolled his eyes while moving to lay down beside the girl. mike loved falling asleep while holding onto y/n's waist, because he knew she was safe.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Goons of Gotham

There was no shortage of goon, miscreants and scoundrels in Gotham City, far too many to list individually in this project.  That said, here are several of the more prominent goons that batman has had to contend with throughout the years.

Germs and Bell

A pair of neurotic goons in the employ of Roland Daggat, Germs and Bell handled the illegal dirty work that allowed Daggat to conduct his illegal affairs while keeping his hands clean and maintaining plausible deniability.  Unsurprisingly, this did not work out well for the pair of ne’er-do-wells and both ended up defeated and apprehended by the Dark Knight.  

Actor Ed Bagley Jr. provided the voice for Germs while actor Scott Valentine voiced Bell.  The cads first appeared in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Feat of Clay Part One.’    

Carlton Duquesne 

A renown mobster in Gotham City, Carlton Duquesne ran highly successful protection rackets for The Penguin. Duquesne teamed up with the Penguin and Rupert Thorne in a potentially lucrative scheme to sell illegal weapons to the war torn nation of Kaznia.  The operation was taken down by the mysterious Batwoman and Duquesne and his coconspirators were sentenced to prison.

Actor Kevin Michael Richardson provided the voice for Carlton Duquesne with the character appearing in the animated feature, Batman: Mystery of The Batwoman.  

Ma Mayhem

The villainous Ma Mayhem was an old-fashioned criminal in the futuristic Gotham City. With her two sons in tow, Ma Mayhem committed several robberies that eventually led to her running afoul of Batman (Terry McGinnis).  Although Batman initially struggled in dealing with the villains, the hero eventually prevailed and Mayhem and her two boys were captured and incarcerated.

Actress Kathleen Freeman provided the voice for Ma Mayhem with the matriarchal menace  first appearing in the nineteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Egg Baby.’  

Captain Clown

Not much is known about Captain Clown, other than it was absolutely terrifying.  It was a powerful android of unknown origins that The Joker had obtained and dressed up as a sea-faring clown.  The android was programed to follow The Joker’s instruction and aided the Clown Prince of Crime in his scheme to use a garbage barge to embank all of Gotham with his toxic laughing gas.  

It was quite difficult for Batman to defeat Captain Clown, only succeeding when he was able to trap the android in an industrial car crusher that compacted it into a cube of metal and wires.  Distraught over his robotic minion’s demise, The Joker exclaimed ‘You’ve killed Captain Clown!’

The frightening android appeared in the fifteenth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘The Last Laugh.’  

Armory

A former Special Forces operative, Jim Tate later acquired advanced degrees in electronics and engineering, with which he made an impressive career as a small arms weapons designer.  After he was fired from Wayne/Powers, Tate became desperate to maintain his tony lifestyle.  Utilizing his training and expertise in experimental weaponry, he became the villainous Armory yet was ultimately taken down by Batman.  

Actor Dorian Harewood provided the voice for the Jim Tate with the character first appearing in the tenth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Spellbound.’ 

Nitro

An explosives expert and arsonist, ‘Nitro’ Nelson took great glee in blowing things up.  He was hired by Roland Daggett to set off a series of bombs that would level the Park Row neighborhood of Gotham.  Actor David L. Lander provided the voice for Nitro, with the villain appearing in the twelve episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Appointment in Crime Alley.’  

Golem

Nelson Nash was a student at Hamilton High School who was frequently bullied by a fellow student.  Pushed too far, Nelson decided to get his revenge by stealing a Galvanic Lifter Machine so to destroy his tormentor’s car.  This Galvanic Lifter Machine (nicknamed a ‘golem’) was an enormous robotic loading device with a roughly humanoid shape.  The machine was operated by way of a neural-syncing headband that enabled the operator to control it through mental command.  

After destroying the car, Nelson used the Golem to menace another classmate he had a crush on.  At this point Batman interceded and debilitated the Golem unit with an electrified battarang that caused it to short circuit and shut down.  The feedback into the neural headband caused Nelson to be shocked into unconsciousness.  When he awakened, however, he found that had somehow cultivated psychic powers that enabled him to control the Golem even without the rural headband.  

Actor Seth Green provided the voice for Nelson Nash with the young villain and his robotic companion first appearing in the fourth episode of the first season of Batman Beyond, ‘Golem.’  

Garth

An early subject outcome of Doctor Dorian's experiments, Garth was a gorilla with enhanced intelligence and other rudimentary human-like capabilities.  Not as refined a subject as Dorian’s later creation, Tygrus, Garth did prove useful as muscle to execute the scientist’s schemes.  

Actor Jim Cummings provided the voice for Garth, with the brute appearing in the thirtieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Tyger Tyger.’ 

Ian Peak

An ambitious and unscrupulous television journalist, Ian Peak was the host of ‘The Inside Peak,’ an infamous tabloid newscast that dished the dirt on the influential people of Gotham City.  After stealing an experimental intangibility belt from a scientist, Peak used the belt to garner all manner of secrets regarding the luminaries of Gotham.  He even discovered Bruce Wayne’s secret identity as Batman.  Unfortunately for Peak, however, the belt ultimately caused his body to lose structural integrity and he perished when his body defended down into the earth’s core.  

Actor Michael McKean provided the voice for Ian Peak with the villainous paparazzi appearing in the eighteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond ‘Sneak Peak.’   

Doctor Belson

Gregory Belson was a transplant surgeon who had previously worked in the  cryogenics laboratories at GothCorp where he was a colleague of Victor Fries.  A series of poorly thought through investments resulted in Belson’s finding himself in a dire financial situation.  Mr. Freeze was able to leverage Belson’s debts as a means of getting him to conspire with him in a dastardly plot.  This resulted in the craven Belson meeting a fiery end.  

Actor George Dzundza provided the voice for Dr. Belson, appearing in the animated feature, Batman & Mr. Freeze: Sub-Zero.

The Repeller

Dr. Suzuki was a researcher working in the medicinal technologies department of Wayne-Powers.  He and his colleague developed the ISO field generator rings which could generate a magnetic forcefield around a living being.  Suzuki stole the device and used it to commit crimes as the villains ‘Repeller.’  Batman was ultimately able to surmise the Repeller’s true identity and take the villain down.  

Actor Gedde Watanabe provided the voice for the Repeller with the villain appearing in the second episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Untouchable.’   

Vincent Starkey

Also known as ‘The Shark’ Vincent Starkey was a mobster and drug dealer who had previously been put away by Detective Harvey Bullock.  When Bullock was receiving death threats, he was certain that the recently paroled Starkey was behind them.  Aided by Batman, The Shark was taken down as he was starting up a new narcotics racket.  Although it turned out that it was actually Bullock’s landlord who was behind the death threats.  

Actor Gregg Berger provided the voice for Vincent Starkey with the villain first appearing in the fourth episode of the fourth season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘A Bullet for Bullock.’  

Falseface

The mysterious mercenary known only as Falseface possessed the ability to shape the contours of his face so to imitate any man of his size and stature. The villain was hired by the terrorist organization known as Kobra to smuggle a deadly virus into Gotham.  The plot was thwarted by the combined efforts of Batman and Stalker.

Actor Townsend Coleman provided the voice for Falseface with the villain appearing in the twenty-first episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘Plague.’  

Montague Kane

Doctor Montague Kane traveled around the world publishing works on debunking the supernatural.  He showed a particular interest in magicians, revealing to the public the non-magical ways of how their illusions worked. 

The stage magician known as Zatanna was aware of Kane's reputation.  Revealing the secrets of stage magic was very much frown upon and Zatanna was eager to stump him with a trick he would not be able to figure out.  Although Zatanna was practiced in real magic, she relied on traditional sleight of hand in her stage act.  And she had created an illusion utilizing mirrors that would make it appear as though ten million dollars had disappeared from the Gotham Mint.

Kane was actually a cheat and a thief.  He learned how Zatanna was planning to pull off her trick and seized upon it as a means to steal this money for himself.   And Kane's expertise of illusions allowed him to rig the trick so that it would seem the money was there, while it was already stolen.

Kane and his lacks tried to make a quick getaway with the stolen money but were stopped by Batman and Zatanna.  Kane was delivered to the police and Zatanna was cleared of all charges.

Actor Michael York provided the voice of Montague Kane with he villainous skeptic appearing in the fiftieth episode of the first season of Batman: The Animated Series, ‘Zatanna.’

Bigtime

Charlie ‘Big Time’ Bigelow was an ambitious hoodlum and former friend of Terry McGinnis.  Three years prior to Terry becoming Batman, Charlie and Terry were arrested for burglary.  Charlie was eighteen and tried as an adult, resulting in a three year prison term; whereas Terry was still a minor and hence avoided jail time.  

Following his release, Charlie fell in was a gang of thieves who planned to steal an experimental chemical from a Wayne-Powers facility.  

The robbery went awry and Charlie ended up doused in the mutagenic chemical.  This caused him become physically deformed, yet also bestowed him super human strength and durability.  Going by the alias of ‘Big Time’ Charlie used his newfound powers to become a super villain and had multiple altercations with Batman.

Actors Stephen Baldwin and Clancy Brown provided the voice for the villain, first appearing in the fourth episode of the third season of Batman Beyond, ‘Big Time.’  

Mutro Botha

The killer known as Mutro Botha was a top lieutenant within the mysterious Society of Assassins.  When the Society found itself hunted by Curaré, Botha attempted to extort Batman into protecting him.  The plan did not work and Botha ended up killed by Curaré.  

The legendary Tim Curry provided the voice for Muto Botha, with the desperate criminal appearing in the fifteenth episode of the second season of Batman Beyond, ‘The Final Cut.’  

[darlingshane]

Let it rip, Coach

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Searching for a new sponsor for the soccer team you coach leads you to meet and quickly fall in love with Michael.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Crack, Alcohol, Eating, Kissing.

Word Count: 3,2k

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Hey, Cousin!” Richie taps on the frame of Michael's office door. “There's a woman here to see you.”

“Oh? Is she a health inspector or something?” He swivels in his chair, putting a pen down on the desk.

“No. Though, if she’s looking to inspect something, I’d be the perfect specimen to study.”

“That hot?”

“Smokin’ hot. Total knockout. Banging body,” his track suited friend remarks frivolously. “But as usual, she didn't want to do anything with me, cause I'll never stand a chance against the great Mikey Bear.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Cousin. Girls love those baby blues. It's when you open your mouth what makes them run in the other direction,” Michael taunts. “What does she want? Did she ask for me specifically?”

“She didn’t mention your name exactly. She requested an audience with the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

“Wow, those are big words, Cousin.” Michael rises from his chair, adjusting the waistband of his jeans.

“Well, I'm a big guy… If you know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do know what you mean.” Scoffing, Michael palms his friend's back and walks out of the office.

They both head out of the kitchen, and Richie points him to the table with the woman, you, who asked to talk to the owner of the sandwich joint.

As he rounds the counter, he counts four young girls sitting around the table with you, ready to dig into the food they just got served.

“Hi, I'm Michael, the owner of this place,” he gestures vaguely with one hand in the air. “What can I do for you, ladies?”

After introducing yourself and the four pre-teens that came with you, one of them being your niece, you explain to Michael that you're the coach of the girls' soccer team. The reason for your visit is that you’re searching for a new sponsor for the team after losing the one you had.

Michael listens closely as you add a little more information, telling him that grew up in this neighborhood, and thought of asking a few businesses of the North River area.

“I dunno, girls… I don't know the first thing about soccer,” he runs a palm over his beard and then pushes his hair back.

“That’s okay, you don't really need to. You'd only have to cover uniforms. Think about your name being on every jersey. And I promise to bring the whole team here after every game. Right girls?”

They all respond in unison positively with mouths full of food.

“See? They love your food already. Think about the publicity. The games are always packed, let me tell you. Women's leagues are booming right now.”

“I don’t doubt that. What's your team's name?”

“The comets,” one of the girls responds.

“That's a great name. Are you guys good?”

“The best,” your niece boasts.

They're actually pretty good. Most of them have been playing for a couple of years before you started coaching them, and the new additions are quickly catching up.

“Okay, let me think about it.”

Michael goes back into his office, crunches some numbers, and by the time you've finished your food he's made out his mind. He accepts your offer, and you exchange numbers to stay in contact.

Two days later, you return to the restaurant to finalize the details. You show him a handful of the designs the girls, and you came up with, and go over a list of print shops in the area to choose one that meets your needs. You type all the details in your phone and head up together to the shop.

It's surprising to see him so invested in just a few days. When you place the final order for the jerseys, he adds one more to the bulk in his size, so he can wear his own to support the team.

You text occasionally for updates, but in between you've found yourself texting back and forth casually talking about your day, the restaurant, your other job… Michael is easy to talk to and quite the charmer, you’ve realized. It has made you wonder at times if he’s hitting on you or not, especially face to face. He’s always flashing a smile, or an innocent wink when you leave, that utterly dismantles you in ways you never thought possible.

When the new jerseys arrive, you make sure Michael gets his. You deliver it personally to the restaurant one night after he’s closed shop.

Your new friendship is strangely familiar. Michael slips into your life as if he'd always belonged there. He has an open heart. A big, contagious laugh; and a sweet smile that could make what's left of the poles completely melt. He's easy on the eyes, too, regardless of what he says. Much as everyone else on the planet, he has his faults too and one of them is the self-deprecating jokes he makes about his appearance, which are completely unfounded. The sharp angles of his face might not be up to classic beauty standards, and that's what actually makes him stand out in the crowd.

You adore his passion about food and his business, and how much confidence oozes out of every pore of his body. It's really disarming. And despite the fact that he almost never shuts up, he's a great listener too when it’s your turn to share.

Quiet has settled after everyone has left the restaurant, all the lights are down except for the ones coming from the neon sign above the counter and the vending machine. He sits backwards on the chair across from yours and slides a beer along the table. You stay right there, swapping life stories, sap anecdotes, fun moments of your life, anything, and everything in between like two old friends hanging out.

A couple of hours go by like nothing, while the table collects empty bottles.

“Last one,” you pick up your third beer, hold it to your lips and take a long swig as the chef timidly nods at your statement.

“Can I ask you something?” his tone mellows from its usual volume.

“Shoot.”

“Would it be unprofessional to ask you out?”

“No, I don't think so,” the corners of your mouth curl up nervously as your nails try to remove the sticker on the glass of your beer. “We don't really work together.”

“That's right. Would you say yes if I asked you out, though?”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Don't give me — maybe. Yes or no only, sweetheart,” his head tilts to the side, trying to capture the truth behind your eyes in the faint neon lighting striking across your face.

“I guess I wouldn't mind if you did.”

“I guess — is not an answer either.”

You take a deep breath and let him hang for a second while you put a couple of thoughts together.

“Not everyone is as confident and decisive as you are, Berzatto. Some people need a little time to process things,” you pause to gather some insight. “And you already know that I like you and wouldn't be asking if I didn't. So yeah… If you asked, I'd say yes.”

“That's all I needed to hear,” a grin splits his face as he tilts his beer up to take a gulp.

“Sooo… are you going to ask me now?”

“Eh, not right now. I just needed to know,” he quips.

“Suit yourself, but don't wait too long,” you say casually, as if it didn’t care as much whether he asks you out or not. You do. And it’s a relief to find out that he likes you back and that he's open to pursue something more than a friendship. It's hard to click with people that fast, but with Michael, it has felt too easy. They say you find love in the most unexpected places. You definitely weren’t looking for it when you came into his joint just a few weeks ago, and now it’s hard to imagine your life without him.

When you pull your phone out of your pocket to look at the time, it's way later than you thought.

Michael walks you to the L, and before the train arrives, he asks you right on the platform if you'd like to have dinner with him sometime.

Obviously, you say yes.

As the train slips into the station, you lean in and kiss his cheek goodnight, letting your lips meet the edge of his beard. His mouth takes the form of a pleased grin, and as you step inside the car, he tucks his hands in his pockets and watches you occupy a seat by the window. You stare at him for a long moment behind the glass as the doors slide close until the train is set in motion.

Texting the next day, you set up your date for the following week on a day you’re both free.

Before that day comes, you have also a very important event on your schedule that is the first game of the season.

Though the chef initially wasn’t going to come, Michael decides to surprise you by showing up on that day.

“Hey, Coach,” you hear his lively voice from behind while the girls warm up on the field.

You turn your head to see him wearing his jersey, and a blue baseball cap set backwards that shows his hair sticking out behind his ears. It’s impossible to stop the corners of your mouth from pointing out automatically as he walks up to you.

“Hey, Chef. Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, it was last minute. You made it sound so good, I wanted to see you in action.”

“What about the shop?”

“Left Richie in charge for a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

He balances his head from side to side, “as long as he doesn't burn it, I think it'll be fine.”

“Well, I'm glad you came. You should take a seat before it's too late,” you gesture at the bleachers, almost packed.

“Yeah, I’ll leave you to it. Let it rip, Coach,” he winks at you, and takes a seat in one of the middle rows on the bleachers.

You still have a dopey smile plastered on your face when the game starts. On occasion, you glance over your shoulder to see him cheer and root for the girls when they have the ball. His enthusiasm, and voice, increases during the second half when the team dominates the game, earning their first victory of the season.

As promised, you take the whole team to The Beef for a celebratory meal afterward.

During Michael's absence, Richie has set up a few tables together to fit the full team, and while they eat their food you park your butt on a stool at the counter, so you can chat with Michael.

“I need to run something by you,” he's on the other side of the counter, propped on his forearms.

“What?”

“It's about our date. I was thinking that I could make you dinner instead of going to a restaurant.”

“Here?”

“No, we already spent too much time here. I thought maybe you could come over to my place, or I could go to yours and just… chill.”

“Chill, huh?” you lift a french fry from your plate and take a bite.

“Yeah, but not like that,” he bashfully scratches his neck. “It’d be just dinner with no strings or expectations. Maybe it’s unusual for a first date, but just wanna spend a nice time alone with you and cook something you’d love. Have a couple of ideas that you’d… but if you wanna do something else…”

You stare at him while he rambles. It's refreshing to see him nervous for once.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

“What if I had some expectations other than dinner?” you playfully raise an eyebrow.

“I guess I wouldn't be opposed to that.”

“You guess? That's not an answer,” you echo back his own words from when you gave him a similar response.

He presses his teeth on his bottom lip for a beat, “no, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to take it farther.”

“Which it's what you wanted all along,” you tease.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Coach. My intentions are just making you dinner. That's it. Anything that happens after, it's really up to you.”

“Say, Richie,” you call for his friend's attention as he comes out of the kitchen. “What would you think if a guy invited you for dinner at his house on a first date?”

“I’d say he’d only be interested in wetting his whistle. Why? Are you going on a date with this puto?” Richie claps Michael’s shoulder.

“Uh-huh.”

“Wow, you must be special. He hardly ever invites anyone to his place. Last time he did, it was-”

“Shut up, Cousin,” Michael cuts him off, annoyed by the fact that's actually true. It's been a long time since he's wanted to actually bring someone home that felt right.

“Like I said, I never stood a chance against Mikey Berzzato,” Richie nods at you and circles outside the counter to check on the tables.

“Aww, am I that special?” you wonder once Richie is out of hearing range.

His gaze falls to look at his hands, as he tentatively extends one to caress your fingertips with his,“I think you are really, really special.”

You stare at those fingers, brushing softly the inside of your hand, making your stomach flutter.

“Did it bother you that I involved Richie in this?”

“No, sweetheart. It didn't. Well… Maybe a little.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's just… I love Richie, but he knows a lot of stuff about me that could change your opinion about me, and I don't want you to get the wrong impression, you know?”

“Michael, I already got a pretty good impression of you. Especially after showing up like you did today. There's nothing he can say that would ruin that.”

He lets out a small snort, “give him time.”

“You know what? I'd love to have dinner at your place.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

You don't have many rules when it comes to dating. Common sense and your gut are what guide you most of the time. When something feels muddy, you back up immediately. And when something feels good, nothing can stop you from pursuing that, you're off to the races. The latter hasn't happened that often, admittedly. Hopefully, this is one of those times.

In the short time you've known Michael, you've only gotten a deep sense of longing for him, growing eager every passing day. It's hard to ignore it anymore.

Following that desire, you dress up, do your hair, put some makeup on, and take the train to Michael's apartment with no hesitation. There is some natural anxiousness rumbling in your stomach, of course, but that doesn’t stop you from chasing that thrill.

When you knock on his door, Michael welcomes you with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen, splitting his freshly-groomed beard. He’s out of his usual work clothes and has chosen a casual outfit that consists of a dress black shirt, half unbuttoned, and a pair of jeans.

“Shall we?” he offers his hand, inviting you in. You take it and let him walk you inside.

As he closes the door, you take off your jacket, scanning every detail of the modest apartment. The lights are dimmed, and he's set up the dining table with two lit candles in red-tinted glasses, and a small centerpiece of flowers. There's light music playing on his phone that's hooked to a speaker system next to the TV. The delicious smell of the food incites your appetite as he moves your chair back, like a gentleman, so you can sit.

“Fancy,” you hum as you take your seat.

“Glad you like it, sweetheart.”

He then leaves for a moment to collect the food from the kitchen and returns with two plates filled with paella. As appetizing as it looks, it tastes vastly better. He really has absorbed a lot of information about you during those casual hang-outs. Not only knows how to please your stomach with Mediterranean food, but you're also granted the best conversationalist, as usual, he's a downright delight to be around.

For dessert, he keeps outdoing himself by bringing out a homemade tiramisu he made earlier. He serves one big serving on a plate, and lays it down in the middle of the table to share with you.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm, this is the best thing I've ever had in my mouth. You'll have to teach me how to make it someday,” you request, picking another spoonful. “Would you?”

“Sure.”

“I'm torn,” you say, enjoying the delectable alcohol-soaked bottom layer on your tongue.

“How so?”

“Because – I really want to kiss you right now for making all this, but I don’t think your mouth can’t top this.”

“You’ll have to try me,” he snorts, scooping his way through the other half of the tiramisu.

“Hm, we’ll see,” you grin. “You really outdid yourself here, Chef. You shouldn't have made something so delicious.”

“I'll take it down a notch next time.”

When dessert is over, you make a quick trip to the bathroom to empty your bladder while he puts the dishes away to wash later.

He has sat down on the couch when you come out, and you stop for a beat in the middle of the hallway before deciding to sit sideways right on his lap.

“Excuse me, Sir. Is this seat taken?” you ask right after plopping your ass on his thighs.

“It is, now,” scoffing, he links an arm around your waist. “Is it comfortable, ma'am?”

“Best seat in the house,” you can’t fight the smile taking over your lips.

“You're really something else, sweetheart,” he hushes oh so softly, as his free palm lands on your denim-clad leg.

“So are you,” your head leans forward, touching his forehead.

Biting your bottom lip, eyes locked, you both go silent for a long moment while you get used to feeling his hands on you, and vice versa. His thumb absentmindedly draws circles on your leg while you play with the hair of his beautiful beard.

“I think I wanna make out now,” you whisper.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Drawing a breath, he brings one hand to frame your jaw, letting a thumb swipe across your lip slowly. Then, his tongue juts out to wet his lips, his face leans an inch closer to capture your mouth. Your stomach flutters and your skin buzzes at the firm grip of his hand on your hip while you taste the waters without fully diving into the deep end. You let your mouths bounce together and get used to that little intimacy you’ve just created with him. When you’re ready to fully dip further, he opens his mouth wider, and so do you, and before you realize it, you're devouring each other's faces. Firmly but sweetly, your tongues play together with ease as the tight seal of your lips shuts every change for air to escape or intrude. You close your eyes and free yourself of any thought, so you can enjoy this right here, right now, with him.

[mxngldmxdnsss]

promiscuous - michael afton

like father like son

notes: forgot I had this in the vault el oh el

pairing - michael x reader

cw! virginity taking, impregnation, pregnancy kink, douchebag michael, panty stealing, alcohol usage

sexual content ahead : proceed with caution!

Michael who’s liked you since high-school. Forever wanting to take you out all over town, show you off to everyone, but never finding it in him to ask you out. Running into you a couple of months after graduation, finally able to talk to you.

Michael who is eager to get to know you, quickly becoming one of your most closest and trusted friends. Visiting on the weekends, having the privilege of laying on your bed as you make plans about what you two will do that week. He doesn’t even pay attention, half listening, half staring at your ass, you trust him enough to lounge around in your panties.

Michael who’s at first dirty thoughts become fantasies, he finds himself fucking into his fist, cum drenching his comforter. Wanting to ravage you, destroy your innocence. Biting his cheek when other boys whistle at you, but his anger doesn’t last long, you lean into him, wanting to disappear. He takes this chance, draping an arm over your shoulders, and suddenly all the cat calling and harassment you faced, is gone, only hearing soft murmurs, oblivious to the fact that people think you’re dating one of the biggest scumbags in the neighborhood.

Michael who steals yours panties, fighting back a sick chuckle when you tell him about how your panties seem to be disappearing all the time. Offering to give you money for more, insisting he take you to spoil yourself with some nice ones. You finally accept, wondering why all of the workers seem to avoid the two of you, but Michael steals away your attention.

Making you try on set after set, you don’t mind, in fact, you’re elated that your best friend is so insistent that you see what you like, or rather what he likes. Gasping at the price when he buys you five sets of lingerie, begging him to let you make it up to him. And he lets you.

Michael who wraps his arm around you at the movie theaters, your treat after he bought you lingerie the other day. Catching a glimpse of you wearing his favorite set he picked out for you, cock hardening at the thought of ripping it off of you when you two got home.

You two get back late, full on popcorn and soda. Giggling all the way to your room as Michael trails after, eyes trained on you as you dumbly undress in front of him as soon as you get to your hamper.

Michael who comes up behind you, hooking a finger in your bra strap, pulling it back and letting it go, hearing you yelp as it hits your skin with a snap. You turn around, scowling, about to protest, when Michael traps you against the wall, you’re frozen, unresponsive until he pressed his lips to yours.

Michael who finds himself tangled up with you, clothes strewn across the room as he bullies his cock into your pussy. Not caring if you’re struggling to adjust, beginning to pound into you, ripping moans from your throat. Watching as your breasts jiggle, grabbing at the fat of your ass as you pull him closer.

Michael who wakes up with you that morning, cute moment completely shattered when he finds himself screwing you from behind. Slapping your ass and forcing your hips back onto his, cumming into for the nth time. Remembering too late that neither of you used protection but only finding himself fucking into your pussy even harder at the thought of knocking you up.

Michael who when you come to him, a crying, bubbling mess, not sure of what to do, he knows before you tell him. Finding himself fucking you over every single surface in the house, table creaking with every thrust, your moans spurring Michael on.

Michael who gets eloped with you, not caring if everyone tells you two you’re too young, you’re already knocked up, what’s the harm in getting married in secret? He fucks you every other day, unable to get enough of you, holding your wrists against the walls as he pistons his hips up into you. It gets more intense as months go by, an obvious result of your pregnant belly.

Michael who still sometimes a douchebag, coming home late from work after meeting up with buddies and drinking. Accidentally raising his voice at you when you yell at him, demanding to know where he was. Knowing he fucked up when you leave, tears dripping down your cheeks. He doesn’t bother going after you, knowing you’ll be back sometime soon. But sometime soon turns into next morning, when he’s sober enough, Michael gets into his car, absolutely fucking livid. He finds you at a diner, sitting across from a man, your friend of course, but he thinks otherwise.

He finds himself breaking your friend’s nose, slugging him one last time before ushering you to the car, nearly speeding home. Not knowing whether to be hurt or angry when you scurry back into the house, locking yourself in your room and crying all evening. When it’s dinner you come out, uncomfortably sitting at the table, eyes puffy and cheeks flushed. You ignore Michael for the first half of the night, before finding yourself creaming all over his cock as he whispers in your ear, letting you ride him as he tells you how much he loves you.

Michael who still tries keeping his routine, getting up and fixing his mullet, finding himself calling in late to work frequently when he goes to big you goodbye with a kiss, but is pulled back into bed by a sex crazed you, your hormones making you more horny than him. Not that he’s complaining. Coming home to you to do the same thing as this morning, sucking and licking at your pussy as you cry out against the bed.

Michael who holds your baby after you give birth, labor quick but painful. Rocking the infant side to side, glancing up at you every ten minutes. Excited to take you both home, glad his boss lets him take a couple of days off, helping you around the house, perfect husband showing off his skill. Even wearing an apron when he makes you two food.

Michael who's actually the sweetest and doesn't know how to express it but only for you.

[fvists]

our cat son

mark rebellato era! artrick

✎ art finds a cat and, in typical art fashion, persuades him to co-parent the new baby (in secret).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 877 wrds.

"Art?"

Silence.

"Art, where are you?"

More silence. 

"Art, seriously, where are you? I heard you."

Patrick stood with his hands on his hips, a quizzical look on his face as he examined he and Art's shared room. They'd been bunkmates at the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy since they were twelve, and Art had never not greeted Patrick with a big smile and wave.

Patrick literally heard Art shuffling around the room before he opened the door, so where the hell was he? There weren't many places to hide, so Patrick guessed he'd just have to start looking.

"Art?" He called, checking under his bed.

"Artt??" He drawled, checking under Art's bed.

"Where the hell are you?" He groaned, searching the connected bathroom.

"Arthur Michael Donaldson!" He yelled, standing in the middle of the room.

A short gasp sounded from inside their shared closet, then a small 'Shit!'.

Patrick frowned and walked over to the closet, placing each of his hands on the handles. He paused for a second to listen to the sounds of quiet shuffling of a body and rustling of clothes, then he smirked and yanked the doors open.

"Gotcha!- The fuck?" 

Art was curled up in between all the clothes, cradling a tiny ball of fur in his arms. He smiled sheepishly up at Patrick, who looked absolutely bewildered.

"Hey, Pat..." He smiled, shielding the little creature under his arm.

"What is that?" Patrick asked, trying to get a better view from where he stood.

"Don't be mad."

"Art, what the hell is that?"

"Don't be mad!"

"Okay, just tell me what the fuck it is!"

Art shifted with a grunt, lifting himself out of the closet. He moved the furball into his hands and presented it to Patrick like it was Simba-- And it might as well have been Simba, considering the fact that Patrick was now staring right in the eyes of a little orange kitten.

"Are you serious?" Patrick laughed. Despite his shock and bewilderment, he reached a hand up to scratch the kitten on the head. "Where the fuck did you get this thing?"

The kittened meowed, as if to tell the story itself, before Art shushed it and placed his fingers over its little mouth.

"You know where the courtyard connects to the neighborhood out back? Well, I was out there with Jack and we heard a little meow, so we started running along the fence trying to find it. We found this little guy stuck under the fence, so we picked him up and bathed him and made sure he was okay...but I couldn't let him go," Art explained, mindlessly petting the cat's back.

Patrick shook his head, thoroughly amused by the story. "So...what, you're planning on keeping this kitten a secret from the teachers and coaches? What if you get caught?"

Art paused, as if he hadn't considered that.

"Well...I was hoping you'd help me take care of him? I was planning on keeping him until we go home for Thanksgiving, so I can give him to my mom and make sure she'll take care of him."

Patrick huffed. Thanksgiving was...three months away. They were going to have to take care of this kitten and keep him a secret during room checks for three months. It would be difficult...but Art was looking at him like his life would be over if he had to let this kitten go, and he'd never been good at saying no to Art's pretty blue eyes.

"Okay, so what are we gonna name our baby?" Patrick resigned.

"What?" Art said, confused.

"What are we naming it? If it's gonna be our..." He paused, leaning down to examine the cat's underside. "...son, for the next three months, he needs a name."

Art broke out into a big, goofy smile. His eyes lit up, and Patrick would've thought Art's greatest wish came true. 

"We can keep him?"

"Only if we can co-parent. I'm gonna get way attached to that thing in the next three months, and I don't think I'll be able to handle it if I don't get to see him ever again."

Art laughed and shrugged. "You're already invited to all my family events. I'll make sure our son attends all of them."

Patrick loved that look in Art's eyes. He always looked like he was having the best day ever, especially when he smiled. Art was beautiful.

"Good. So...what's his name?"

"Bartholomew?"

"No."

"Garfield?"

"..Because he's orange? No."

"Uh...Alan."

"No!"

"Buttons."

"No- Actually, that's...that's actually kinda cute. I like that."

Art smiled even bigger, if that was even possible, and offered Buttons to Patrick. Patrick handled him very gingerly and cradled him to his chest. Buttons meowed in protest for a moment, but he quickly resigned to the warmth.

Patrick always ran hotter than Art, so it made sense that Buttons liked being held by him. Patrick was the fire to Art's ice.

"I love our son," Patrick said wistfully.

"I love him, too," Art shrugged. "Not as much as I love you, though," He said jokingly.

Patrick made a fake gagging noise and carefully shifted Buttons over to one hand so he could punch Art's shoulder.

"You're gross."

"You love it."

[mchlgayser]

☆ we've met again ft michael kaiser

synopsis: Four years past since you left and raised his kid alone until fate decides to bring him back to the picture.

─── ୨୧ warning: slight angst

─── ୨୧ notes: Is the fandom dying?? Why hadn't my post gotten as many hype as before lmao! It's sad but anyway I'm back with another drabble to feed you all!! Happy reading everyone xoxo!

You hastily pick up your car key and grab a few of your works essential stuffing them inside your suitcase. Your four-year-old son is by the patio sitting and playing games with his nanny when you tread to him 'Kay, mama had some work to do. I promise I'll be back for dinner. Be a good boy for me and do not cause trouble alright? Have a nice day at school.: He nods putting down his gadget, and wrapping his arms around your neck to hug you 'I love you' You give the side of his head a chaste kiss before letting go.

'I had some leftovers from last night you can use as his lunch and as for the dinner I'll just buy takeouts.' You inform his nanny giving her an advance payment before you left the house.

You drove to your office receiving an unknown call on the way. You pick it up and greet the caller but silence. They said nothing before it abruptly ended. You stare at your phone before shaking your head. It didn't occur to you about anything serious as you continue steering the car and parked at the basement parking lot.

Your secretary, Miss. Juliette is already by the automatic door waiting for you with a clipboard in her hands. You got out of the car and rush to her 'What's my schedule for today?' You punch the elevator button while your secretary notify you about every single of your tasks today.

You got a lunch with one of your important client, a meet -up with your temporary business partners and a dinner with another client -

'Cancel my dinner with Mr. Han. I'm having dinner with Kayden tonight.' Juliette didn't need to be asked twice knowing how firm you can be when it comes to your son. For him, everything comes first. No matter how important your job is. She immediately postponed the dinner meeting to another date before moving along with you to your cabin.

'Do you need your coffee today?' You rapidly nod and start doing your tasks, bringing out works and files so that you can finish faster. 'Make it two, I need extras.' You lend a sweet smile before you got to work.

The clock almost strikes six - just enough time for you to finish all of your work for the day and get the takeouts you ordered online. You pack your stuff and your necessities when your phone rang for the nth times of the day. You didn't think twice before picking up 'Hello?' It was silence... Again before a sharp and low 'Hey' is heard.

You blink in surprise asking them to know who they are but no answer and it ended again. You rolled your eyes and left the room to the car park. Yo throw away your bag in the back seat and resounded the car, cooling off the engine and blowing on some loud music to distract you from the suspicious spam calls.

'Yes, thank you so much! Have a nice day!' You rolled up the window putting down the food beside you on the shotgun seat. You maneuver the car to Kayden's school in silence but the radio.

You arrive at Kayden school's main gate and got out to meet with his teacher 'Hello ma'am. I'm here to pick Kayden up.' She was looking at you back and forth 'A man has already picked him up claiming to be your husband. Kayden went along with him.' You started to panic bringing out your phone and calling his nanny asking her to come by his school and help you look around.

You bow down at his teacher and run around the neighborhood, looking for your son. Thick tears threaten to fall when you look around but find him nowhere.

You call for his name again but are abruptly interrupted when you see a vogue silhouette of your son with a familiar blond and blue streaks hair sitting together on a bench near the playground.

'Kayden!' You yelled his name averting his whole attention toward you 'Mama!' He cries out running your direction to hug your trembling form 'You scared me!' You scolded him with tears now cascading down your cheeks 'I'm sorry...' You sigh tightening your hug and breaking it off after some moments.

You suddenly remembered the familiar blond guy with your son 'And who are you with-'

'He is with me.' The familiar voice brings you out of your trance. You pick Kayden up and rush away but he holds your hand 'I met him already, no need to hide away.' You carefully yank his hand away and sigh.

You put Kayden down and hide him behind you out of instinct.

His irises collided with yours, the identical smile adorning his complexion. 'This weird uncle said that he's my father. I don't believe him because he is so ugly. I don't have an ugly father right, ma? I'm too handsome to be his son.' He absentmindedly roasted his biological father that succeeded to bring a smile and a chuckle from you.

You pull his hand gently and turn to Kaiser 'He got all your traits.' You mentioned bringing confusion written all over Kayden's face.

'You are making my mama cry.' He said creating a dagger on Kaiser 'Am not.' He challenged, his hand on his midriff with his head tilt aside 'You are. If you are my father then you are the reason my mama cried almost every day because... She missed you.' A soft gasp elicited from you, your eyes sheet moist with tears once more.

'Then tell her, she should've not run away.' Kaiser held your hand, one brow furrowing. You push him away and wipe your tears. 'Kayden, stop spouting nonsense.' He huffs and pouts away.

'How do you find out about us?' He shrug 'I had my ways and that is not your concern. Not at all.' He lifts your chin and smirks 'You are still as beautiful as I remember.' You scoff but could not help the bright red hue on your cheeks.

'And I suppose it was you too, the one that's been calling me?' He laughs but nodded 'But I'm sure with my calls it helps to remind you of one thing.'

'And that is...?'

'It would be dangerous for such a gorgeous lady as you to be in a house that's not with your husband.'

'Can you stop flirting with my mama, weird uncle.' Kaiser is about to bite the tongue of his son but you prevent him from doing so 'Kay, I need you to start getting along with this uncle from now on.' He groan cut obligated

'Do you finally accept me back? Oh, and I need an explanation as to why you left. It can't be because of you are pregnant...' You look down at Kayden and ignored his question.

His mouth formed an 'o' shape but then he smiles 'I guess I can forgive you.'

'I think I need some time...' You suddenly mention making Kaiser confused 'About what?' You held his forearm 'About us.'

He nods picking Kayden up and make him yelps in surprise 'Sure. Let's go now little K.'

He places an arm around your waist and the other used to hold Kayden. You smile feeling somehow relieved - Kaiser and Kayden ended up bickering as to who you loves more all the way home and they both get a nice scolding after.

[sadhornyygirl]

Kinktober

Day 31: Halloween Party (michael myers)

For the children, Halloween was already over. And while the party for them ended, young people from all the neighborhoods left their homes and took to the streets; the celebration for them was just beginning. Boys with pockets full of cocaine and half-naked girls headed for the nearest nightclubs. For the new generation of young people in Illinois, Halloween had stopped being just "trick or treating" and became something more wild and liberal. Alcohol, unbridled sex and drugs were then the only bases that solidified the most anticipated night of the year.

And that's how you ended up on top of the handsome masked man, trying to save his life

"Please.' He murmurs in a tone of voice that is difficult to understand, 'I've never been...'

‘Never been fucked?’ You ask, already knowing the answer. ‘That’s obvious, my dear.’

The man is looking at you like you are a wonder, ‘How?’ hisses

‘All these years, and no one loved you like this? No one bothers to show you how you should be treated, how to deal with your own desires.’ You’re not saying this to be cruel, when a drop falls on your face and you look up. Michael’s eyes are fixed ahead, he monitors his breathing as you pull away from the hickey you left on him. You catch his tear and give him a gentle kiss. 'You are handsome.' You remind him: 'Breathtaking.' He gives you a shy smile at your compliment, 'You can have it,' you promise, and his hands hit the neckline of your purple dress. ‘If you tell me your name.’

He takes his time, with with your fingers roaming his body as he explores new territory. You can't understand how no one went out of their way to arrest and catch him sooner. Maybe he built his walls too well? What made him move away from everyone but you? Are you the only one bold enough to break it up? He seems to be weighing his options, wondering wondering whether it's worth giving in to his sexual desire to reveal something more about himself, something he can't take back. And then he whispers: ‘Michael’.

You step forward and pull him onto the nearest couch. Michael follows you obediently, and you make him sit down. Michael watches, completely placid, as you run your fingers over the bulge in his pants and his hips thrust into your palm. You check to see if he's dealing with his newfound feelings, if it's not too much, but Michael's waves you on. The sound of the zipper echoes in the silence as he begins to pant, the mere thought of what's to come mixed with his repression makes him melt under your touch. ‘Michael’, you repeat his name, palming him. ‘So sweet under all that power, all that facade.’

He's hard, leaking and panting for more when you run your finger over the tip of his cock, over the slit and gather the pre-cum there, 'Hurry.' He begs, but Michael is trying to maintain some of his dignity despite his hips rising up on the couch as his other hand begins to pump up and down his length. His eyes close and his mouth opens as Michael loses himself in the sensations you are providing him. It's the most exciting sexual experience you've ever had. Being the one who takes something so precious from him, the disposition.

His first orgasm crashes over him, boyish and spurting copious amounts of cum all over his hand, staining his pants, shirt and jacket. Michael shoves his fist in his mouth to mask his screams, his hips shaking with the intensity as you go faster, jerking him off until Michael can't form words, his orgasm a blinding collision of sensation and freedom. ‘Jesus, fucking Christ.’ He hisses, his his eyes falling on you as you watch him descend. You're dripping in your pants at the sight of him. He's never looked more stunning than when he's on the verge of orgasm, like a god with his sharp features and heaving chest.

'It was good?'

'Perfect.'

He is already starting to glow with sex. Michael is still hard when he starts to go down, much to your pleasure. He has stamina and reaches for you, holding your waist as you push your pants to the side and slide down on his cock. He's filthy and wet when you impale yourself on him. Michael’s moan is guttural; your hips are already lifted as you set a rhythm, keeping your hands on his chest for support. You lie down, enjoying every inch of him, determined to get as much pleasure out of taking his virginity, from ruining him. ‘That’s it.’ You encourage: ‘Just like that. Then, when you're ready, you'll cum inside me. I'm going to let go, I'm coming with you.

That's all he needs to hear, his grip and his long, thick length already pushing you over the edge as Michael bites down harder on your hand, his rings glistening in the darkness of the room, his face scrunched up in orgasm. It's the best feeling in the world, watching him come undone beneath you, watching his muscles contract and relax beneath your fingertips as you bend down to kiss wherever you can reach. He lasted longer than you expected, and it hurts when you pull away from him. He cries as his cum drips from his core, pulling on his chest, staining more of his black shirt. Michael is completely fucked, eyes open just enough to see the cum dripping onto his stomach and he reaches out to scoop up some, wondering as you slide your pants back into place.

— I believe you won't kill me now??

You smooth out his dress, the wetness and remnants of Michael's cum soaking your pants. Michael sits up, his eyes still wide, but he's more relaxed than you've ever seen him, 'How did this happen?'

You plant a kiss on his lips, and Michael kisses back: ‘Do I have a place in your life now, Michael?’

He nods, ‘If you do that again,’

You smile at his boldness and reward him with another kiss. You straighten up and head to his door, Michael watching you go. 'Tonight, when the others are asleep. My room this time.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 3 (MBJ x Black OC)

Warnings: NSFW, Smut with a plot, Heavy BDSM (spanking, bondage, daddy kink, name calling)

Raven hoisted one of the three heavy canvas bags onto her shoulder as she hastily swung open her door. She let out a shocked yelp as she looked up from her phone to find Michael standing at her door, his arm frozen in air as if she had interrupted his attempt to knock. She glanced from him to her beaten up watch. They still had hours before her date.

“Oh… hi? W-what are you doing here? Did I miss a text or something? N-Not that I don’t wanna see you or anything.” She added quickly. She certainly was not complaining. She would never grow tired of seeing him,  he looked damn good per usual. 

He laughed. “Yea, I texted you an hour ago saying I was gonna pick you up? Hair and makeup is waiting at my spot for you.” 

She hit herself in the forehead, frustrated with herself. “Ugh, I’m so sorry. Been running around town and lost track of time. Do you think we have 20 minutes to spare? I really need to drop these off.” Her arms weakly lifted up the other two bags in her hands, both heavy laden with books. 

“What is all this?” 

“Just books for the kids in book club. It looks like a lot but most of them live on the same streets or in the same apartment buildings so it’s not many stops. Promise.” 

He waved her hand to dismiss her clear anxiety and stress. “No worries. We got plenty of time.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Perfect, thanks. You know you didn’t have to do all this? Hair and makeup… I was just gonna do it myself before I came over.” 

Though his presence was a surprise, Raven would have been lying if it was not a welcomed one. She had filled the morning with pampering, as he requested. She had been shocked to find an envelope filled with $2,500 in cash under her door the day before with a note that said this was her first payment and to use a portion of it to get a mani, pedi, and whatever other self care things she chose in preparation for their date.  

Her first instinct was to give it all back since it was not part of their agreement. However, he seemed to anticipate that action and warned her not to try to return it or he would just find another way to give it to her. So she used it for the things he requested and to get a wax and then used part of it to buy all the books for the kids in her club since the library did not have enough copies. She sat aside a small portion to cover the rest of her rent. The rest was sitting in her wallet until she could deposit it in the bank to replenish her savings. Though she knew her father or sister would likely come calling needing something at some point. They seemed to have a sixth sense for when she came into any amount of cash. 

“Nah, all good. We’ll need to post on instagram after the night so professional hair and makeup will help.” 

“And you really didn’t need to pay me. I haven’t done anything yet.” She dropped the bags so she could lock her door. However, when she turned to pick them up, they were already in his hands and one was outstretched to take the one on her shoulder. 

She bit down the independent voice in her head that wanted to tell him she did not need help. And she didn’t but she rarely had anyone offer to help her with anything so she appreciated someone lightening the load for her. Besides, as she watched his bulging biceps flex, she could tell the three bags weighed nothing for him. 

“You agreed, which was more than you had to do. Consider it a signing bonus.” 

Their journey around her neighborhood was virtually silent, Raven instructing the driver where to go and jumping out at each stop. Michael waited for her at each one, surveying the neighborhood and people watching through his tinted windows. 

He did understand what she meant about community. Every time she got out of the car, he could hear her chatting with folks who were outside, see her waving and interacting with people. It seemed like she knew everyone, and not just in a polite way like she knew their faces but nothing more. She knew their names and details of their lives, checked in on people on a far deeper level than most people ever cared to. 

“You a local celebrity yourself, seems like?” He asked as they drove to her last stop, which he found odd since she still had a bag full of books left. 

She shrugged. “Not really. I just know a lot of people between the library and their kids. Also just being around, you meet folks. I like to walk so you know, eventually you just get to know everyone.”

“This neighborhood is safe to walk in?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, dad. It is. You gotta leave Beverly Hills or where you live at sometime. Right here is perfect,” she told the driver as he pulled up in front of an apartment building. She glanced down at her phone. “He’s on his way down. This is the last one.” She paused before sitting up in her seat. “Oh and I never got your name?” 

Michael’s driver glanced in the rearview, surprised she was talking to him. “Oh, Allen, ma’am.” 

“Allen, got it. Nice to meet you. Thank you, I’m sure all these stops were not on your to-do list. I appreciate it.” 

Allen merely nodded. “No thanks necessary. I go wherever Mr. Jordan tells me.” 

“Well I’ll say thank you anyway,” she told him with a smile as she rolled down her window. A few moments later, a lanky kid made his way out of the building, Raven’s manicured hand waving him over. 

“Hey Jamal!” 

“Yooooo Ms. T. This a fine ass whip. Where you get this at??”

“Boy… language,” she reminded him as he braced himself on the frame of the car. However, her voice was void of any real discipline. “Got you something.” She pulled the last book out of one of the bags and slid it into his hands. “And…” She handed him the entirety of the third bag, the young man rifling through it to find several brand new SAT prep books, practice tests, and vocabulary flash cards. “Saw you hunched over that one in the library and it’s a hot mess so figured you’d need new ones.” 

His face immediately lit up. “Thanks, Ms. T. These are clutch. That one had all the answers marked up and sh- stuff.” 

She chuckled. “I know, I know. We tell people not to write in them but they don’t listen. Well, just wanted to make sure you got those before the weekend was done. Won’t hold you up for too long. How’s your mom?” 

The young man’s eyes dimmed ever so slightly, his shoulders hunching over in exhaustion. “She’s better. Back at work this week. But we gotta catch up on bills so it’ll be a rough two weeks till her paycheck. Behind on things since the funeral…” his voice trailed off.  

Raven adored all the teens who frequented her book club and would go above and beyond for every single one of them. But there was a soft spot in her heart for Jamal. 

“Rent’s paid and good though?” 

“Yea, that’s it. Every other bill though…” 

She grabbed her purse, which was sitting in the middle seat between her and Michael. Truth be told, she was so caught up in her conversation that she forgot he was even there. She grabbed the rest of the cash out of her wallet and slid it into his hands. 

“Here. Utilities first, whatever’s left, see if you can get caught up on the other stuff like your mom’s car and stuff like that. It’s probably not enough for everything but should get you caught up on the most important stuff until your mom’s back on her feet.” 

He immediately shook his head and tried to thrust the money back toward her. 

“Nah, I can’t take that. I walk in with that much cash, ma’ll ask where I got it and we can’t repay you for months.” 

Raven pushed his arm back gently and smiled. “Tell your mom it was payment for computer support at the library. You recovered a year’s worth of work on my laptop two weeks ago, which was honestly priceless. I owed you.” 

“You sure?” he turned the money clip over in his hand. “This gotta be a grand or more here.”  

“Positive. Just remember lil ole me when you start the next Google. Cool?” She winked at him as he nodded enthusiastically. “Enjoy the rest of the weekend. See you on Wednesday.” 

She waved at him before rolling up the window, the driver taking off to drive them toward downtown. She noticed Michael staring at her with an incredulous look on his face. 

“What?” She asked softly, wondering if he was upset that she gave his money away. Well, technically it was hers now but she knew he intended on her spending it on herself, not blowing it on someone else within 24 hours. However, she knew better than anyone that sometimes people just needed a boost and someone willing to give it to them, no strings attached. No one had ever done that for her when she needed it so, when she could, she tried to do it for others.  

However, he just turned and glanced out the window. “Nothing.” 

She opened her mouth to explain herself before closing it immediately and fidgeting with her phone. She did not know what to say or how to explain herself or if she even should. So she opted to say nothing. If he was mad because she was a giving person, he would just have to be mad. 

***

She was fine when they first arrived at Michael’s place. However, she quickly realized that the styling of the rich and famous was far from the relaxing experience she would have envisioned. Michael barely had time to introduce her before the glam team and Michael’s stylist started bombarding her with questions about “her look.” And she had no earthly idea. When she stripped in college and for her dates, she had to curate a look but the point was always to show off her sex appeal. It was fairly simple. This was far from simple. 

She stayed silent as Michael’s manager and stylist argued back and forth, a heated tennis match that she could not get a word into even if she tried. 

“That’s too sexy… we’re not trying to make it seem like he’s dating a fuckin’ video vixen.” Alex dismissed yet another dress the stylist pulled out for her without giving Raven even a chance to look at it.  

“But look at those curves. No one’s gonna want to see him with a church girl either. That looks hella forced.” 

“It needs to look like a regular date night. If she’s too dressed up, it’ll seem orchestrated. This is their introduction, it’s gotta strike the right tone. She needs to compliment him but also stand out cause no one covets the vapid trophy girlfriend anymore. But she can’t outshine him, that’ll lead to too much attention she and we don’t need.This photo is gonna follow them for the entirety of their relationship so it’s gotta be perfect.” 

Raven sheepishly glanced between all of them as they talked about her like she was not sitting there getting her hair done. She sent a pointed glare at Michael, begging him to take over and say something. After all, he was the only person in the room who knew even the first thing about her. And he did not disappoint, immediately swooping in like her own personal Avenger. 

“I think we’re overthinking this a lot. It’ll be more natural if we keep her style the way it is. Ain’t gotta dress her up into something she’s not. Some of this ain’t her anyway.” 

Michael made quick work of narrowing the options down, immediately eliminating all the ones Raven silently hated herself… everything that was loud or too outrageous. By the end of his pruning, they were left with a more palatable selection of muted tones, all items that Raven would have dreamed to have in her closet one day. He held them up one by one, having her dismiss or keep each one until she was down to two options. 

She opted for an olive midi silk dress. It was simple but elegant and classic. And felt like exactly what Michael wanted: an elevated take on her own style. 

By the time they finished her make up and blew out her coils and she stepped into the dress, she almost didn’t recognize herself. 

While Raven was good for a daily natural beat, she could not deny the power of professional makeup. The glam team made her routine look like child’s play. 

She stood in front of the full length mirror in the second bedroom and studied herself, her fingers grazing over the soft silky material hugging her hips. She was so enthralled by it that she did not even notice Michael in the doorway staring at her. 

“You like it?” 

“I love it. How’d you pick these out?” 

He smiled. “I sent my stylist your Instagram and he had pieces pulled for you. I bought this one and the other ones you liked. They’ll be in the closet here so you can wear them on dates. So we aint gotta go through all that shit every week.” 

“And how much was that bill?” 

“An amount that you don’t need to worry about.” He answered shortly before walking up behind her. He ran his fingers through the big curls they put into her hair. His hand moved to her shoulder, her breathing hiking slightly as his fingers grazed her bare skin to move all her hair out of the way. “Hold it up for me.” 

He reached around and placed a gold choker around her neck. He adjusted it before she let her hair fall around her. 

Michael’s hands grabbed her hips to turn her around in his grip, his eyes trained on the tops of her breasts, perfectly pushed up and on display in the deep neckline of the dress. He licked his lips as he drank her in, part of him wanting to forgo the date and public spectacle to fuck her brains out. But he forced himself to take a step back. 

Just business, he reminded himself as he stuffed his hands in his slacks. Just business. 

He cleared his throat, “You ready?” 

Raven merely offered him a nod, afraid if she spoke, her voice would betray her and reveal the overwhelming need she felt. She hated the effect he had on her. He was the sweetest addiction, her body craved him. And she had been feeling the effects of that withdrawal since the first night they met. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her, the paths he treaded etched into her skin like a brand. But she knew this was merely sex. No feelings, no desire beyond pleasure. That was the only way this would work. 

She nodded and fell into step behind him as he led her down to his car. She opted for silence as they drove, her sole focus trained on trying to ensure she did not pass out again as her anxieties ran wild in her mind. Once was a fluke but twice? She did not think she could survive such embarrassment.

Typical LA traffic slowed their approach to the restaurant to a dreadful crawl, giving Raven several minutes to stare at the gang of paparazzi and cameras packed out at the entrance. She supposed it was great that the owner and chef had such a significant buzz for their opening night, and was the perfect introduction for their relationship. But as she counted each person holding a camera, she could not help but look down at herself and wonder if she had made a terrible mistake agreeing to this. If it were possible for her knuckles to turn white as she gripped the door with all her might, they would have as a million and one ways she could embarrass herself popped up in her brain. 

What if the paparazzi saw right through her? She may be dressed in the role of a star’s girlfriend but she was far from it, a regular girl with nothing spectacular or special about her. And certainly nothing that would have made someone as handsome and important as Michael look twice at her. Was it even believable for him to date someone like her? What if she did something to embarrass her in the mere ten feet she needed to walk? She glanced down at her impossibly high heeled shoes. What if she fell?

It also did not help that, as she inched closer and closer to the cameras, she realized that this step made their ruse real. It was one thing for his team to put out a statement with her first name and allude to a girlfriend. But now, she would be putting her face and identity to it, giving the world the ability to private detective their way into every faucet of her life. Was that a mistake? Was she playing with fire to allow anyone close enough to discover the skeletons she kept hidden in the closet? Would she wake up tomorrow morning to find all of her dirty laundry in a viral tik tok for the whole world to see and dissect? 

“Hey, hey, Raven, breathe for me.” She felt two hands grab her cheek lightly, clearly cognizant of not disrupting her makeup as they forced her eyes toward his kind ones. “There you are,” he whispered, his voice light as if she would crumble if he spoke too loudly. “Deep breaths for me.” 

At first, she was confused as to why they seemed so filled with concern. That is until she heard it, the ragged breathing that filled the car. It took her longer than it should have to recognize it as her own. 

“Circle to the back, Allen.” 

“N-No, no!” She called out, a bit louder than she intended. “Y-You’re paying me to do this. I c-can do it.” She hated that she was already failing him. She was utterly useless to him. “J-Just got overwhelmed. F-feel l-like I’m g-gonna have a heart attack,” she admitted as she pressed one palm into her bare chest. “I’m sorry. I-I can do it.” 

Michael immediately shook his head at her insistenting. He knew this would be overwhelming. His hand rested on the meat of her thigh, the slit in her dress allowing his warmth to touch her skin, an action she immediately found calming. 

“Don’t apologize, aight?” He helped her slow her breathing while he rubbed gentle patterns into her skin. “You’re about to be on every gossip site and your life’s about to change. I’d be more worried if you weren’t freaked out. We’ll go in through the back.” 

She clenched her eyes shut, hating herself for disappointing him. “How am I managing to ruin every interaction between us?” She mumbled. “Like a fucking’ embarrassment magnet over here.” 

“Aint shit to be embarrassed about. Panic is normal, swarms of those fuckin’ vultures is terrifyin’  even for people who are used to it. We’ll go in the back, by the time we leave, there’ll be way less of them and easier to get out. We already got our picture for the gram so we’re good. You fulfilled your duties for the night and then some. The rest’s just for fun.” 

“You sure?” She bit her lip as she studied him, expecting to find anger or annoyance. 

He tugged her painted lip out from between her teeth and nodded. “We’re good. Now relax, take some deep breaths. We’re gonna enjoy dinner and then go back to my spot and enjoy some other things. I promise we’re good.” 

He reached over and pried her fingers from the door and took it into his. “Wanna squeeze somethin, squeeze my hand instead. I’m right by you the whole time, promise.” 

Raven found her heart was still racing but she did feel more at ease and she knew it was all because of him. He did not take his hand off her thigh as Allen looped them around to the alley behind the restaurant so they could enter through the kitchen.

Before they stepped out of the car, Michael squeezed her hand. “Just take a breath and enjoy the night.”

And he was not wrong. The restaurant was spectacular and bustling as the owner led them to their table. 

“This is amazing.” Raven’s eyes drank in the soft decor of the restaurant, it felt intimate and romantic. “How’d you find this place again?” 

He shrugged. “One of my boys… well’s one of my boys’ boys opened this spot. Figured it was a good option for our first date. Get him a lil publicity and it’s a natural reason for us to be out on the town. And I knew we could get a hella secluded table.” 

She nodded, their table was perfect. They could see most of the main restaurant and main dining without actually being in the midst of everyone. They were tucked away and hidden, which eased most of her remaining anxiety. 

He ordered a bottle for them, the pair sipping on wine as the head chef brought them his specialized tasting menu. She enjoyed not having to think and decide what to order as dish after dish made its way to them in a steady fashion. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Michael asked, the pair sitting in comfortable silence for a bit as they ate. 

“Shoot.” 

“Did you spend any of that money on yourself?” 

Raven tilted her head to study him, trying to decipher if he was upset. “Yea, I did what you asked. Manis, pedis, wax. And then I set aside a bit for the rest of this month’s rent. And then I used some to buy all those books and gave the rest to Jamal.” She sat her fork down. “I hope that’s ok?” 

“You don’t gotta ask me how to spend the money you earned and I paid you.” He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I was just curious. Why’d you have to buy the books?” 

“I don’t have to,” she admitted. “But the kids use the library copies and then can’t keep them when they like the book. Since I had the cash, thought’d it be nice just to buy the copies so they can keep them. These kids all love to read, just trying to help foster that in small ways.” 

“But what about you?” 

“What do you mean? I own a million books as you saw,” She chuckled as her attention focused back on her plate.

“Nah you don’t need a single other book,” he teased before lowering his voice. “I mean… you lost your job. You didn’t have shit to do with that money for yourself?” 

“Oh of course I did. But I dunno, when someone needs a boost, I give it. Besides, I always figure my shit out.” She paused before adding, “Part of building community is taking care of others. And you hope if you ever need it, they’ll take care of you.”

“Who takes care of you now?” 

Raven stilled. For some reason, that simple question knocked the wind out of her. 

“Since I met you, all I’ve seen you do is take care of other people. Inconvenience yourself and sacrifice for it seems like… everyone you know. Tasha has an emergency so you take care of her client even though you’ve never met me before, which I know was terrifying. You’re sitting in a hospital bed and you spend hella bread to bail someone who didn’t seem to appreciate you at all outta jail. You get paid and you spend pennies of it on yourself before giving it all away to someone else. I’m in a bind professionally so you agree to change your whole life, even just temporarily to help me out.” 

She jumped in, “Yea but I’m getting something outta this whole thing too.” 

“Ok fair. But still… Your coworkers, your neighbors, these kids, even me. I mean it’s great that you care so much but who takes care of you? Who sacrifices or inconveniences themselves for you?” 

She rolled the stem of her wine glass in her fingers as she contemplated his words. 

“No one,” she whispered, the two words felt painful leaving her lips. Saying them forced her to acknowledge an ache she ignored on a daily basis but now she felt it and she wished she could lock the pain away again. But she knew he knew the answer before he even asked it. She cleared her throat, forcing herself not to fall into that sea of despair. If she thought too much about it, she’d never break through the surface again. So she offered a nonchalant shrug and a half smile. “It’s not bad though, I guess? Been taking care of myself since I was 19. Got pretty good at it.” 

“That ain’t lonely?” 

“Maybe if I knew something different? But that's all I know so it’s fine.” She took a long sip of her wine hoping to end the conversation there but she could feel him studying her. 

He wondered why that was, she was so vibrant and kind, too kind for this world in his opinion. Did she not have a family? Friends? People who cared whether she was safe and attended to. He simply could not fathom having someone like her in his life and not ensuring she had the world resting at her feet. 

“So who takes care of you, superstar?” She flipped the question around on him, desperate to remove the uncomfortable spotlight of vulnerability from her. 

“My family, they keep me grounded… keep me sane. Make sure I’m not runnin’ myself completely into the ground, though I still do a lot.” 

She raised her glass and lifted it toward him as if to toast him. “That’s good. Everyone deserves that.”

He could hear the sadness in her voice, a sign that she longed for what he had. He was used to people coveting his life but it was always the money, the fame, the women, the superficial things that could disappear within an instant. It was never the one thing he often forgot was not the norm for everyone: the love and support of family. He took care of them financially but that was a small price to pay for the emotional support and care they offered him along the way. 

“Yea, they do. So I feel like I should know more about you if we’re gonna sell this whole thing.” 

“What? You wanna play 20 questions or something?” 

“Nah, I just don’t know shit about you except your name and that you’re soft as fuck,” he winked at her, which caused her to roll her eyes. “I don’t know where you grew up, where you went to school, if you went to school, your major, hell I don’t even know your birthday.” 

She nodded and leaned forward.  “Ummm ok. Grew up in North Carolina, went to UNC for college, took out loans and worked a couple jobs to afford it but I got through it. And October 15.” 

His eyes grew wide. “Wait, that shit is in like two weeks? You only giving me 14 days to put together a celebration worthy of our fake relationship. Ain’t enough time, baby girl.”

“Because you don’t need to. I don’t celebrate my birthday, never have. It’s just another day.”

He was shocked at how her tone and demeanor shifted at such a simple conversation. Who didn’t enjoy their birthday? However, it was very clear to him that she did not. Her body shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she tried to force a neutral expression on her face but it did not really work. He tucked that information away for another day, so many questions and conversations he had but knew he could not ask today.  

“Understood. Can I, at least, take you to dinner?” He could not imagine letting the day pass without celebrating her somehow. He quickly added as he could see her starting to shake her head. “Some tik tok detective’ll figure out your birthday and then the blogs will think it's weird if it passes and we don’t do anything.” 

She hated it but she knew he was right. 

“Fine. But no fancy shit or gifts,” she warned. “Just dinner and you’ll pay me like any other date.” 

“Aight. Fair enough.” However, he knew that there was no way he was letting her birthday go by without getting her a gift of some kind. He did not care if he had to send it anonymously to her damn apartment. 

“What else do you wanna know?” She asked, shuffling the conversation away from her least favorite day of the year to other topics. 

“You said you’ve been on your own since you were 19. You’ve always done… you know?” He tilted his head causing her to laugh. 

She understood why he was being discreet. There was no one table close enough to hear their low conversation but that did not mean wait staff or others were not lurking around. 

“No, I didn’t jump off the deep end immediately. I worked on campus, work study shit for my loans and I danced,” she put a slight emphasis on ‘danced’ to ensure he understood the implication. “It was Durham so not the biggest market in the world but I was good and it paid the bills. When hard times came around again, an old friend from those days hooked me up with Helen… figured why not. Thought it would pay better and faster than a club.” She shrugged. 

 “You said you were a writer. Publish anything?” 

She scratched her head, frustrated that he was asking so many questions that she knew likely felt innocuous to him. But to her? He was stomping on the landmines of her life. 

“Umm yea, just a young adult fantasy novel. Nothing special,” she answered. “Do you read often? Favorite genre?” She quickly pushed the conversation back toward him, her skillful albeit obvious attempt to avoid yet another conversation she was not ready to have. 

“You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?” 

“Not much in my life is worth rehashing.” And she certainly did not want to rehash the greatest failure of her life to anyone, least of all the most successful person she had ever met. 

“Ain’t no way that’s true.” 

“Unfortunate, sure. But it is most certainly true. But I’m also ok with it. Not all of us are destined for lives worthy of a lot of fanfare. You,” she emphasized with a smile, “Are a main character. The narrative, the story, all of it and everyone around you revolves around you. You take up the most space as you should. Some of us though? Destined to be the sidekicks… foundational, necessary for the main character, faded into the background. We take up as little space as possible. And every story needs them. Personally, I think it’s ideal. Flying under the radar has its advantages.” 

He took a sip of his wine. “Well you’re about to be everyone’s main character, the farthest thing from under the radar. Tomorrow, half the women in America are gonna want to be you. You ready for that?”

“Or kill me so they can have you for themselves,” she joked. “But I haven’t really thought about it? It’s also temporary, fleeting. And when it’s over, I’ll go back to my life in the shadows where it’s safe.”

The word safe hung in his ears. He wanted to press more but he could tell she was uncomfortable. 

He stretched his hand across the table to take hers. She hesitated but then remembered couples do things like this, hold hands and share intimate but appropriate touches in public. She slid her hand into his, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. 

“I dunno… I think you underestimate how important you are. You can force yourself into the shadows but all I’ve seen of you so far is a main character who doesn’t realize we are all in her story. The spotlight is good on you, you should embrace it more.”

Her heart fluttered a bit at his words. This dude, she thought to herself. Every word out of his mouth was perfection. Why couldn’t he be more of the asshole Tasha claimed he was? That would make this arrangement far easier. But instead, every interaction made her fall deeper for him in ways she knew she could not. 

“W-what else d-do you wanna know?” she asked quietly. 

They spent the rest of dinner trading critical information about each other, their makeshift game taking up the rest of dinner. 

“Ok Beyonce’s your favorite artist… Not surprised by that. Favorite album?” 

She laughed, “She makes stanning so easy, I’m gonna be honest. Been a fan since Destiny’s Child. And probably Renaissance or self-titled.” 

“Ever seen her live?” 

Michael enjoyed how the wine made her a bit looser and energetic. He could tell the nerves melted away with every glass. She was far from drunk but she was more relaxed than she had been all night, “God I wish. But she’ll go on tour next year for Renaissance hopefully so if I can set aside money for it, I’ll go.” 

Michael nodded, the wheels in his brain already turning. He glanced at his watch, realizing how long they had sat there chatting even after the courses concluded. 

“You ready?” At her nods, he stood up and helped her from her seat before wrapping one arm around her waist as they walked toward the front door. 

As they walked, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “When we get outside, don’t engage with them or look at them. Eyes straight ahead on me, hand in mine. Security’ll clear a path so don’t worry about that. Whatever they ask you or say, don’t respond, aight? Squeeze my hand if you get overwhelmed but it’s just a few feet and it’ll be over before you know it.” 

He stopped her as he thanked the owner and shook his hand before they reached the glass double doors to leave. She was immediately overwhelmed by the blinding camera flashes pointed in their direction, her smile faltering ever so slightly. However, before she could even squeeze his hand, Michael pulled her body flush to his and kissed her. Her body melted under his touch as he set every sensor in her ablaze. He was intoxicating. That’s how she felt every time she was in his arms, completely and utterly drunk on his being. She had to stifle the whimper that almost escaped when he pulled away, a sly grin and wink thrown her way. 

“Better?” 

“Y-Yea.” 

“Good,” he responded, the evidence that his kiss worked wonders clear on her face. He wrapped her hand in his again and gestured for her to follow him out. 

With the grace and poise of a trained movie star, he offered the crowd of paparazzi a few waves and a bright smile. Raven kept her smile small but natural as she held onto Michael’s arm and he led her through the cameras. He was the perfect gentleman, not letting his driver open the car door for either of them so he could help her in himself before getting in. As soon as the door slammed shut, she let out a deep sigh of relief and sat back in her seat. 

“See? Wasn’t so bad. First paparazzi experience and you were a pro. Now we gotta pick a photo for instagram and a caption. Alex sent me all the ones from earlier.” 

He scooted over to the middle seat so he could show her all the photos in his text chain with his manager. 

“This one’s my favorite but…” he went to the next one. “Alex says this one’s the one we should post.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Absolutely not. Look at my three chins in that.” 

“I only see one very cute, kinda pointy chin.” 

She moaned and rolled her eyes. “Be serious, please. This is our first instagram post. It needs to be perfect. And it’s not just the triple chin. I look so stiff, we both look uncomfortable.” 

Her finger continued swiping through the photo set, her voice muttering no as she passed photo after photo of the pair looking as if they were strangers forced to take a photo together. She finally stopped when she reached the last two, the only two candids in the entire bunch. One was of her laughing at a corny but well timed joke Michael told as they wrapped up their photos and the other was of Michael adjusting the choker right after he put it on her neck. She had not even realized the photographer caught that one. 

“Those two.” 

“Why those?” 

She shrugged. “The others are clearly staged. But we both look the most relaxed and at ease with each other in those two, like we aren’t trying. We’re just being. Trust me.”

Michael knew he should take Alex’s expert opinion over all else but he did… trust her. So he saved all the photos, hearting the two she identified. 

“Ok caption?” 

“I’m terrible with those. I picked the photos. Caption’s all you. But I would do something short and simple. One word, an emoji. Or no caption and just let it speak for itself.” 

The short ride to his condo was quiet as he mulled over what to post. He hated how much energy he had to expend on something so trivial but that was his life. So he decided to just post it with a simple brown heart, taking Raven’s advice, yet again. 

Once the post was up, he tossed his phone down to the middle seat between them and watched her as her eyes followed the passing buildings as they weaved through LA. He would have been lying if he said he had not been worried about how the night was going to go, if she was going to come to regret their whole arrangement. However, she seemed content. Happy even? He doubted that. She gave the impression of someone who rarely felt that emotion, knew precious little of what happiness truly was. He desperately wanted to know why, the puzzle pieces he had gotten thus far were so incomplete he could not even imagine what picture he was putting together. And while he knew he shouldn’t, he desperately wanted all the pieces so he could truly know her. And not just so he could get to know her for the sake of this ill-conceived plan but so he could satisfy the urge in his very soul to tear down whatever barriers stopped her from being happy. If he only had six months with her, the least he could do was ensure she was happy during it.

“You still up for the rest of the night? I know that shit was a lot so no worries if you wanna call it.” 

Raven shook her head, though she appreciated that he was giving her an out if she wanted one. She, of course, knew she could have said no and left but she appreciated he understood the pressure the transactional aspect of all this put on her to say yes. Thankfully, going home was the furthest thing from her mind. 

He had not even touched her in a sexual manner all night and just being in his presence, she could feel the wetness growing between her legs, her nipples hardening with anticipation. She wanted him, all of him. 

“No, I’m good. Besides, our last date got cut short. Gotta make that up to you somehow.” She winked at him. 

“Yea, you do.” 

The rest of the ride was filled with silent anticipation, Michael and Raven’s thoughts were simply runaway trains of lust and desire. Their first night together was imprinted into Raven’s brain matter, like he had altered her very chemistry. 

And Michael, well, he had more than enough time to fantasize about all the things he wanted to do to her perfect body. He would need to build up to some of it but the lengths he wanted to push her? The heights he wanted to take her? She said she wanted to live out her fantasies and he was more than happy to make the wildest ones come true. 

By the time they found themselves in the private elevator to his penthouse, the sexual tension between them was overwhelmingly thick. To the point where Raven did not even care about foreplay, she just wanted him to bend her over the nearest surface and fuck her senseless. But she knew that was not the game either of them truly wanted to play. 

Obedience. Submission. That is what she wanted. She wanted to fully surrender control and let someone else do all the thinking, all the decision making. She thought it would be blissful, to have her thoughts only be consumed with bringing him pleasure and enjoying her own. 

They immediately exited the elevator and made their way to the master suite. There was an awkward pause as they stared at each other, Raven biting her lip as she wondered if she could take charge or let him lead. 

“You good?” 

“Y-Yea… just this part is still kinda awkward,” she admitted. 

“You still nervous with me?” She picked up on the tone of surprise in his voice. 

“I mean you are you and I’m just…” she played with her hair as she spoke, her eyes forced down to the ground. “Me.” 

She did not lift her eyes even when she saw his loafers into her line of vision. He hooked his finger under chin, forcing her eyes to his. 

“I know your hard limits but you should know one of mine. I won’t tolerate you actin’ like you’re some nobody and like you aren’t the baddest bitch around. I told you once, you’re one of a kind. The only person who seems confused about that in this room is you. Say some shit like that again and I’ll take that paddle to your ass so hard, you won’t sit for a week. Understand?” 

She let out a breath she did not realize she was holding in. “Y-Yes.” 

“See, I thought we were gonna make it through the night without punishment but I see you’re a slow learner. 10 spankings. Yes what?” His usually soothing baritone had lost all of its warmth within seconds. It held a menacing quality that made her want to cower beneath him but not in fear. She was far from afraid of him. But the tone did something to that quiet part of her that craved submission. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“There we go. Much better. I remember your limits. But if you feel overwhelmed or need a break, say yellow. If you need me to stop completely, use your safe word. You remember it?” She wished the ground could swallow her whole as she heard the hint of humor in his voice as if he was struggling to hold in laughter at her ridiculous choice of a safe word.

“Unfortunately,” she mumbled, still overflowing with embarrassment. “Can we change it?”  

“Nah,” he answered immediately. “I like it.” He winked at her. 

“I hate you.” 

He closed the space between them and slid his hand up her thigh, slow and tantalizing, he dragged his fingers against her skin until they reached her promised land. She widened her stance slightly to give him better access as he slipped one finger into her thong and between her lips. 

She stifled the moan that almost escaped as he dipped that finger inside her, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She could not stop the groan that escaped when he removed his finger, leaving her feeling empty. He held it up to her, her juices glistening on his skin. 

He kept his face neutral though internally, he was grinning. He had touched her once and she was already drenched. That one touch had almost been enough for him to fall to his knees and worship her.

“That tells me otherwise,” he whispered in her ear. “Suck.” 

She had never tasted herself before and something about it felt oddly erotic. She parted her lips enough to allow him to slip his finger between them. She savored the taste of herself as she sucked his finger clean. 

“You like the way you taste, baby?” 

“Yes, sir,” she admitted, her voice flush with embarrassment at how easily he read her. But she found that the embarrassment also turned her on. She guessed he knew that too. 

“I knew you would. Strip.” 

She took a small step back from him, her fingers finding the straps of her dress as she let it slide off her body to the floor. She immediately picked it up and glanced around for a second. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She bit her lip. “I need a hanger.” At his incredulous look, she shrugged. “What?? I don’t leave nice clothes on the floor. Don’t want it to get ruined.” 

Michael almost wanted to laugh before nodding. It was so perfectly on brand for her that he merely took the dress out of her hands instead of following his instinct in telling her that he’d just buy 8 more dresses like it if that one got ruined. 

“When I come back, I expect you naked and on your knees waiting at the foot of the bed. Eyes on the ground.” 

“Yes sir.” 

She waited for him to exit before making quick work of removing her spanx, bra, and panties. She cared far less about leaving them in a heap on the floor as she sank down to her knees at the foot of the bed. As directed, she kept her eyes trained on the carpet beneath her as she waited with bated breath. This was the hard part: waiting, resisting the urge to lift her eyes and turn to search for him at every sound. 

The seconds stretched to minutes, letting her know he was taking his sweet time. A test, and the brat in her wanted to fail it deliberately. But that was outweighed by the desire to hear him praise her for her obedience. Every moment spent in that position made her pussy grow wetter and wetter. She could hear him moving around the penthouse, heard his voice fill the hall as he talked on the phone for a few minutes. She desperately wanted to rise to her feet and find him so he would fuck her. But that wasn’t the game. The game was total obedience, sacrificing to his will. That was harder than she expected but as she sat down on the floor listening to his voice drift through the open door for over 10 minutes, she knew it had the exact effect he wanted: turning her into a needy mess. And showing her that what she wanted meant little. Everything, from when they started to how they would finish, was under his control and he could leave her waiting for him as long as he wanted. 

Even when she finally heard footsteps returning to the bedroom, she did not move an inch. 

“That’s my good girl.” She let out a breath of relief that she did not even realize she was holding in when she finally heard his voice directed at her. “I think I could’ve left you down there all night and you wouldn’t have moved a muscle. What’d you think? Would you stay down there for me?” 

“Yes, I would. But it sounds like torture,” she added. 

“Torture we’d both enjoy,” he whispered. His hand ran through her soft hair, cradling her face. “This is how you should wait for me after every date. Just like this.” 

She continued staring at the ground as she heard him move throughout his bedroom. Every sound ratched up her anticipation. She could hear him fiddling with a latch, her mind immediately going to the chest of goodies he kept in the corner. His hands rummaging through it made her wonder what he was searching for. Was it something to punish her, pleasure her, or both? 

“Look at me.” 

Michael could have come right then and there as she lifted her head, an innocent doe-eyed look painted on her gorgeous face. Her plump lips were parted ever so slightly, he was unable to stop his thumb from grazing over it with the lightest touch possible. His dick strained against the confines of his pants and briefs, his desire to be buried in her heat almost painful as he looked down at her. 

Patience, an inner voice growled at him. Patience… one trait he was not fairly good at.

“You trust me, baby?” 

“Yes, sir.” She answered immediately. She was nervous but the one thing she knew is that Michael had no intention of hurting her. She knew he respected her body and limits if nothing else. 

“Good girl. Stand and get on the bed, legs spread.”

She shuffled to her feet, her legs wobbling like a fawn as they had fallen asleep beneath her. She tried to temper her excitement with slow, measured and sensual steps. She could feel his eyes trained on her ass causing her to add a sway to her hips as she walked around to the side of the bed and crawled on. She laid down and spread her legs, putting herself on display for him. 

Michael licked his lips as he took in the glistening mess at the apex of her thighs. He could see the slight shake in her legs as she laid there, waiting for him to strike. 

“You’re being such an obedient slut for me,” he praised as he walked to the corner of the bed. She felt his touch against her ankle before it was replaced with the cool leather of a cuff. She felt it tighten around her ankle before it loosened a bit. Instinctively, she tugged at it, finding that her mobility was heavily restricted. She did not have time to react before he moved to the other side and bound her other ankle, keeping her legs spread eagle and open for him. 

His fingers dragged a tantalizing slow pattern from her ankle up her thighs onto her soft belly over the peaks of her breasts and down her arm until he got to her wrist. He brought her hand up and put another cuff around it so it was restrained to the headboard. He repeated the motion before climbing on the bed and hovering over her naked body. She looked delectable as she pulled against the restraints but she could not go anywhere. Her body was completely and utterly at his mercy and she would not be able to move until he allowed it. She would not even be allowed to touch him and that felt like the true punishment in all of this. 

“One last thing,” he pulled a silk black blindfold out of his pocket and tied it around her eyes, plunging her into utter darkness. She felt him move off the bed, his weight shifting before she felt and heard nothing around her.

It only took a mere moment for the fear of sensory deprivation coupled with the loss of Michael’s presence to hit her. Her head turned left and right in a panic as her ears strained to listen for him, for any sort of movement or sound that let her know he was still around. She felt utterly vulnerable without her eyesight, a prey waiting for their predator to pounce. A whimper escaped her lips as the seconds stretched on without an utter sound. 

“M-Michael?” she whimpered his name this time. She hated how she sounded, fearful and needy but she just needed reassurance that he was still there. 

“I’ll let that slide cause this is new and I know the blindfold is scary,” his voice filled her ears, causing her to relax a bit. His usual gentle tone was back, a stark contrast to the demands he had been giving just moments earlier. She felt safe, assured, cared for. “I’m right here. Not gonna let anythin’ happen to you, I promise. Just remember your safe word and use it if you need it. You ready for your punishment?” 

She let out a soft gasp, “This isn’t it??” 

“Nah… this is just for my own pleasure and yours. But I owe you ten spankings. But we gon’ try something different. Use your safe word if it’s too much.” 

She could feel him moving around the bed before she felt the featherlike touch of soft leather straps against her skin. A shiver racked through her spine causing her to arch off the bed as every sensor in her body focused on the trail of arousal he created. It was so faint, like it was not even there. However, as the straps rolled over her aching breasts and her core, she wanted to plead for more. Begging, she wondered if that was what he wanted, to hear her plead for more. She was a brat but she was not prideful. The pleas were on the tip of her tongue, ready to fall off without much prompting. However, before she could start begging him to touch her, she let out a gasp of pain as she felt the straps whip against her thighs. 

“What the fuck??” she cried out, unexpected pain radiating through her. She was not surprised that it still sent a shockwave of pleasure through her but fuck did it hurt significantly more than his hand did last time. 

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth. 10 more. Talk to me like that again and I’ll use it on a spot far more painful than your thigh.” 

To emphasize his point, he resumed his teasing, running the straps right over her clit causing a moan to escape her. If that was how badly it hurt against her thigh, she shuddered to think how it would feel against her clit. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I-I just w-wasn’t expecting that. No more, p-please. I’ll be good.” 

“That’s a good slut. I forgive you. But you still have 19 left. Count ‘em out for me.” 

She took a deep breath as he brought the flogger down on her other thigh and counted. She forced herself to breath through it and relax, finding that tensing and anticipating each blow just made them hurt more. He switched where he hit her so she found it difficult to anticipate them either way. Her counting was barely audible in between her shrieks of pain as he rained each blow down on her breasts, thighs, and her stomach. He made sure to hit each one several times, the additional lashings stinging ten times as much than the first one. By the time she whispered 20, her voice was broken and her blindfold was soaked with tears.

Despite the stinging pain radiating from every portion of her body, she could not deny her pussy was throbbing for him. She could feel the mess she made on his comforter as her juices dripped onto the bed. And the aspect of it all that she could not truly understand was that, even at the height of the physical pain, she had not once even contemplated calling out her safe word or even asking for a break. She was drunk on the pain because every bit of it was really just pleasure in a different form. Part of her was almost crestfallen when she said 20. She did not think she could have handled much beyond that number but something in her wanted him to keep going, to push that physical limit as far as he could. 

“You should see your body right now. All red and marked up. It was hardly a punishment,” he mused. “It just made you wet like the filthy whore you are. Next time, you’ll remember that daddy chose you, won’t you? That he doesn’t like it when people talk badly about his plaything.” 

Plaything… every degrading name he called her felt like a heavenly chorus in her ears. She nodded quickly. “I’ll remember. I promise.” 

“You want daddy to touch you?” he asked as he ran his fingers over her thighs. With every circle he drew, he came closer and closer to her flower. 

“Yes, daddy. Please,” She willed him to stick something inside her. At this point, she would take anything. 

The teasing was hard for him too but he enjoyed the way her limbs arched into his touch, trying to steal more stimulation than he was prepared to give, how her moans of pleasure turned to whines and whimpers, how he could feel the heat of her core against his hand without even touching her, how her entire body seemed to vibrate with need and anticipation. It all just increased his own pleasure and knew it would make her first orgasm of the night spectacular. 

She let out a sob as she felt him hover right above her clit, so close she could almost feel his touch but it wasn’t enough. Her hips started to hump the air, as much as she could with her legs restrained but his hand held them down to the bed. 

“P-please, p-please. It’s… I-I n-need you.” She had never heard such desperation in her voice. She never knew sex could feel like this. It was overwhelming how much she needed him. It was a sexual need but it felt as foundational as air or food or water, like she would die right then and there if he did not caress that bundle of nerves between her legs or slide his fingers between her lips again. She recalled that sweet moment when they first got home. That felt like hours ago now, like he had deprived her for hours without his touch when she knew, realistically, it had only been a maximum of 30 minutes. 

“This what you want?” he whispered in her ear as his thumb drummed against her clit. 

A high-pitched scream of pleasure filled his bedroom, Raven not even realizing it was her for a few seconds. He settled between her thighs as he slid two fingers inside her. She moaned and rocked her hips against his hand as his thumb continued to rub her clit. 

“That’s it. Fuck my fingers like the cum slut you are. So desperate to cum all over my hand. You gonna cum for me, baby?” 

She knew it would merely earn her another punishment but she was so enthralled in the building pleasure in her core that she could not answer him. He had stolen all her words and thoughts that weren’t pleas for more, pleas for him to ram his length inside her and send her to another dimension. She wanted him to destroy her, her back… her walls… her entire being until she was just a mess left behind. 

“Y-Yes… s-so c-close. C-can I c-come, d-daddy?” She begged him as she felt the telltale signs of her approaching orgasm. She was dangling on a rope over a cliff, her grip loosening so she could free fall into that sweet abyss of pleasure. However, she remembered his rule from the first night. He could give orgasms and without proper permission, he would take it away. She wanted his praise and she wanted to fall. She just prayed he would give her both. 

“Cum for daddy. That’s it, that’s a good whore. Such a perfect little slut for me.” 

His voice guided her through as she let go and allowed herself to fall apart, and the free fall was well worth the wait he had put her through. If this was the result, she would endure whatever forms of torture he wanted her to to reach this promised land. 

She muttered nearly incoherent words of thanks as he continued praising her and fucking her with his fingers. Her legs spasmed slightly as he forced her orgasm to drag out for a bit longer than she was used to. He only stopped when he felt her hips stop rocking and start shying away from his hand. 

He gave her a few moments to calm down while he stripped off his own clothes. His dick stood at attention, a weapon ready to destroy the perfect pussy laid out for him. He undid the cuffs around her feet, her legs still wide open which let him know she was too out of it to notice. 

“Check in for me, baby girl. Use your words, you need a break?” 

She shook her head. It was the exact opposite actually. “F-fuck me. I need you.”

With pleasure, he thought to himself. He climbed between her legs and immediately sheathed himself inside her with no warning, causing a guttural moan to ring out in the air. 

He ripped the blindfold off of her eyes as he positioned her legs over his shoulders and fucked her with abandon. 

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the soft lighting of his room before she made eye contact with him. She forced her eyes away from his, training them on the ceiling. She could not look into those deep brown eyes, afraid she would mistake the clear lust she saw there for other things, other emotions she knew in her soul he could not hold for her. She almost wished he would put the blindfold back on her. Not being able to touch him did help, though she longed to run her nails down his biceps and claw into his back as he fucked her, cradle his head into her neck as he sucked and bit the skin there and marked her as his. But so much of that was so intimate and she did not need intimacy, they did not need intimacy. This was fucking, plain and simple.

“Oh God!” she cried out at a particularly deep thrust. 

“God can’t save you, baby girl. Only name you should be calling out is mine.” Each word was punctured by particularly forceful thrusts to emphasize his point.  “F-fuck I missed your pussy,” he cried out as he pushed her knees up to her shoulders, causing her body convulse with another orgasm beneath him. She felt as if he was splitting her into two. She wanted him to destroy her and this was pure, unadulterated, blissful destruction. 

“D-don’t stop,” she panted. “F-fuck me harder,” she begged as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. This time around, she saw stars yet again but only the good kind. 

She groaned pitifully as he pulled out of her. He quickly undid the cuffs around her arms, allowing her only a quick moment to roll out her wrists and shoulders. He wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped them over so she was on top. 

“Get to work. You’re gonna ride me until I cum inside that pussy.” 

She sighed as she sank back down on his dick, savoring every inch until she bottomed out on his lap. She remembered what he said at dinner about liking the spotlight on her and decided then and there that she would put on a show that had him showering her with praise. She started off with a slow grind, one hand braced on his chiseled chest while the other roamed her own body. She let her head fall back in ecstasy as she fondled her titties and got lost in pleasuring him and herself. Her body was exhausted but she was committed to her task and was desperate to feel him fill her. 

He swatted her hand out of the way and leaned up, his teeth sinking into the swell of her breasts. 

“Fuck!” she cried out. “Just like that.” 

He moaned as he felt her pussy quiver around him, feeling her body’s response to everything he did. She got off on nipple play, he noted to himself as she continued grinding on him while he sucked and bit every inch of her perfect breasts that his lips could find. 

He only paused to wrap his hand around her throat, he squeezed ever so slightly. Just enough for her to get her attention before he used the other hand to slap her ass. 

“Playtime’s over. Fuck me like you mean it,” he growled in her ear. 

“Yes, sir.” She decided to up the ante and slid off of him. She could hear the growl and command about to bubble up when she pressed a finger to his lip. “You trust me, don’t you? I’m your good girl and good girls follow orders.” 

She flipped her hair behind her as she turned away from him with a wink and slid back down on him, her back to him so her ass was in his face. 

Michael was in pure heaven as she bounced up and down on his dick, her ass shaking in his face. He almost resisted the urge to slap it but he did not have that level of self control. 

“You like that?” he demanded as her screams of pleasure grew louder with every slap against her soft skin. He loved watching the skin grow redder and redder with his handprints. He knew bruises would likely form the next day but something told him she would like that as her moans got louder the harder he slapped her ass. 

“Y-Yes I love it!” 

Her thighs burned but she kept her mind focused on one singular goal: bringing him the same pleasure he offered her. She could tell he was close when he grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her skin and he used his brute strength to lift her up and down on his dick. She could have been a rag doll with the way he lifted her body with ease, furiously fucking her before slamming his hips into hers with a loud shout.They had forgone a condom so she felt the warmth of him fill her as her body collapsed forward. 

She could barely move her limbs as she fell limply, her body hinging at the waist. Michael stayed inside her for a moment before he lifted her off of him. He positioned her on her stomach, Raven too exhausted to say or do anything other than continue to let him lead. He straddled her back before she felt his hands softly knead her stiff muscles. 

“W-what are you… doing?” she moaned out, confused by the gentleness of his actions after how rough and dominating he was. 

“Taking care of you. Just relax and close your eyes, Rae.” 

Her heart melted as she heard those words. He was taking care of her, that was all he had done since they met: take care of her when he had no cause or reason to. How was it that the most transactional relationship in her life, the one that was strictly business and should not include any care, was the only one that did not leave her feeling utterly depleted and empty? The only one where someone put her needs first. Hell, even when the entire point was to center his own pleasure, hers was still center stage. 

She did not expect how that would make her feel, like hot chocolate on a frigid day, like stepping into the warmth of a thousand suns after being stuck in the cold. It was everything and deep down, she still felt as if she did not deserve it. Tears sprang to her eyes and she hastily wiped them away and sniffled. 

“You ok?” he asked quietly, his hands stilling. 

She cleared her throat and nodded. “Yea, yea. You just hit a sore spot. I’m good,” she whispered. She knew she should have told him to stop or used her safe word, this was more dangerous and unsettled territory for her than anything he had done to her that evening. But she couldn’t, couldn’t find the words or desire to stop someone from filling her up while everything else only took away. Even as she drifted off to sleep, Michael’s expert hands working out the kinks and knots he created, she knew she could not rest in that feeling for long. 

His kindness could not be mistaken as love or anything of the sort. It was still just business and everything he made her feel: all the pain, all the pleasure, all the butterflies, all the spotlights, and everything in between was fleeting. All of it would come to an end and she would fade back into obscurity. 

Mere hours ago, she thought she would welcome that. But now? For the first time, she feared how painful the return to her lonely life, regardless of how fake this one was, would feel now that someone had taken the time to show her something different. 

Tag List:

@readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4

***

A/N: The babes had their first official date! And had a swoon worthy after party at Mike's lol What do you think the public reaction to their romance will do? We also have some key folks (Raven's family, Tasha) reactions to their "relationship" lol so we'll see how that unfolds next week. Also, just as a note cause I changed it and didn't want it to be confusing, MBJ's birthday is in September not February like in real life. Should've clarified that in chapter 1 but didnt want folks to be confused lol

Drop a comment and let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged! Thanks for reading!

[justjenah]

Cowboyification as Harm Reduction

I find Michael’s cowboyification to be fascinating.

It would be incredibly easy to reduce his choice to embrace being a cowboy as simple machismo or toxic masculinity. But I would argue it’s much closer to a form of harm reduction.

When it comes to accusations of machismo or toxic masculinity, Michael’s own actions repeatedly seems to defy those claims.

When we see Michael and Mike in Latvia, in seasons four and five especially, Michael is incredibly open with Mike about the fact that he struggled and likely engaged in self harm.

See episode 58 for example:

Mike: This afternoon you mean. Why are we eating breakfast at 1 in the afternoon?

Michael: Because I waited for you, dipshit. Yes, I am always in pain, and I self-destructed just like you did and that’s how I know that it’s pointless. You can see the scars on my chest it’s not like I’m coverin’ ‘em up. Yes, I’m in pain, but I also grew the fuck up. You can look into the darkness, you have to it’s healthy to look, but you can’t stay there. There is no home there. There is only wilderness. My advice is come inside ‘cuz people are waiting for you there.

He doesn’t tell Mike to bury his feelings or to get over it. He tells him that it’s dangerous to live in your regret.

Michael is honest about the fact that he too felt crushed under the weight of the violence and tragedy he experienced. He’s perfectly willing to talk about it and willing to share his experiences.

There is an argument to be made that Michael’s cowboyification is harmful as it feeds into his tendency to be self sacrificial to protect those people he considers “his”. And while I think there’s some truth there I think it glosses over the fact that this is a trait that already existed.

An episode 46 Mikey runs into tier 2 without a second thought upon seeing a picture of Edgar’s corpse.

In episode 49, The Princess Daffodil Experiment, we learned that he is planning to be the first human at Base to be consolidated with the calculators and is later upset when he realizes that it will be Edgar who ends up testing that aspect of the technology on himself out of necessity.

I think in actuality, what the Cowboy identity does is give Michael focus, and helps him remember he has people to live for and to work in service of.

If we look at the Michael iteration from the 101 timeline, we find a Michael who is mostly unable to function. He sleeps most of the day, drinks to excess, and is overall deeply unhappy. He has very few if any enjoyment in his day to day except perhaps drinking with Boris. Mike makes reference to the fact that he half expects to find Michael dead, not from time travel murder shenanigans, but from excessive drinking. This is not a moral judgement of him but an observation that this looks like another form of self harm.

Given Mike experiences a similar period of heavy drinking and deep emotional distress that impairs his ability to function in seasons 4 and 5, it doesn’t feel like a stretch to assume that without his cowboy persona Michael likely would not be able to handle the demands of being alive, never mind corrections and unraveling time travel mysteries.

In fact Cowboyfication brings with it some real net positives. Michael may have a self sacrificial streak like all Mikes Walters (species) but as a cowboy he allows himself some selfish pleasures. He learns to hunt and goes out boar hunting with Boris. He learns how to cure meat and seems to take some pleasure in cooking. He cultivates a relationship with the neighborhood crows, and takes joy is developing a sartorial identity. He even allows himself to fall in love again, something that is difficult to imagine him doing for himself without becoming a cowboy. Loving Sly openly is a real act of self love and a recognition that he too deserves something in his life that is in service to no one but himself.

Cowboyification brings with it an ability for Michael to enjoy life while still acknowledging the hardships and tragedies that befall him.

It isn’t perfect by any means but in issues of mental health, it is often more important to find strategies that improve quality of life and reduce harm. Expecting a cure is not just unrealistic but often actively harmful.

When comparing 101 Michael to the cowboy we all know and love it feels clear that this is a great example of what harm reduction looks like: imperfect but meaningfully better than the alternative.

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Scraptrap & Scrap Baby: *Staring through the window*

Henry: William, Elizabeth, what are you doing?

Scrap Baby: We’ve been watching Molten Freddy, Henry.

Scraptrap: The whole night, he’s been running as fast as he can through the nearby neighborhood. And he has... a sharp hook?

Michael, approaching: A man in search of a car door...

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 2/8

Part 1

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

Nemo wanted to walk on his own. He stumbled out of your grandmother house with no sense of direction at all. The still gathered crowd regarded him curiously as he made his way down the driveway. You walked not too far behind, ignoring the mumbles around you. The neighbors had stayed for this moment alone. The moment you would come face to face with—"

"Y/N."

A white Chevrolet with its widows tinted, stood parked along the sidewalk. Beside it stood a man dressed in a grey t-shirt and board shorts.

"Gabriel?" His name escaped your mouth unintentionally. Almost like a fever dream. He looked nothing like you remembered him, having left him as a boy with a cheeky smile and chubby cheeks. Before you stood a man, dark wavy hair and a sleeve covered in tattoos. His face was carved along his sharpened jaw, and a goatie grew on his chin below his mustache covered lips. He was fairly built, the bumps of his muscles visible through his straining t-shirt. And he was tall, almost two heads taller than yourself.

"Papa."

Gabriel's gaze left yours, shifting towards the ground. There, with his hands stretched above his head, was Nemo, who recognized Gabriel as the man from the pictures kept above his nightstand.

The crowd behind you sighed. Some of them even shed tears, watching Gabriel pick up Nemo in his arms, batting away his own tears.

"Go to him."

Your grandmother shoved you from behind. You stood frozen in the middle of the driveway. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't move.

"Gabriel, Gabriel. Can I have your autograph?"

Soon, the heartfelt crowd turned into a violent mob. Pushing each other in order to get closer to Gabriel, who was still holding Nemo in his arms.

"Please, please. I'm such a big fan. Can I just have one autograph?"

The neighborhood kids were the most brutal, fighting their way to get a chance to meet arguably one of the greatest surfers to have emerged from Brazil.

"Please." Gabriel said, trying to calm them down. "I'm only here for my family."

Things happened so fast. The escalation of the crowd forced Gabriel off the sidewalk and towards the house. He grabbed you along the way. Holding onto your hand until the silence of your grandmother's house fell upon you.

"Jesus." He said, running a hand through his hair. "That was crazy."

Nemo suddenly erupted in tears, crying for you to hold him. You did so, unhanding him from Gabriel.

"Poor baby." Your grandmother was not impressed. "How people can get. You'd think someone told them that the king was coming."

"Michael Jackson?"

"No, Elvis."

"Oh. Well, I'm really sorry about that." Gabriel said, watching you rock Nemo in your arms. "I really didn't think it would get this crazy."

"Maybe next time warn us before coming." Your grandmother gesticulated vividly with her hands. "This is São Sebastião not Rio de Janeiro. We aren't used to super surfistas like you casually paying us a visit. It would cause a riot."

"Mas vovó, eu também sou daqui." (But grandma, I'm from here too.)

"Please. Your family couldn't wait to abandon us as soon as they got a hold of a little money. Save your sweet talk for somebody else."

"Vovó" You frowned. She was being awfully rude.

"Just give the baby to me." She sneered. "I'm sure the two of you have a lot of things to catch up on."

You gave Nemo to your grandmother and suddenly found yourself alone in a room with the man you once loved.

"Y/N." Your name escaped his lips with such ease, like butter, and when he stepped forward to hug you all you could do was to oblige to the large arms that wrap around your body, hugging you tightly.

"Gabriel... I can't breathe." You tapped him on the shoulder.

He pulled back. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay."

"It's really not. This was meant to happen sooner."

"What?"

"Meeting you and the baby. But my family—"

"It's okay." You assured. The last thing you wanted to do was discuss Gabriel and the complicated relationship he had to his family. You had faced enough of that in your life.

"Let's just savor the moment." You said. "You're here now, aren't you?"

Gabriel smiled softly but fell victim to staring into your eyes for too long. Long enough to make the moment akward again.

"Sorry." He caught himself and chuckled. "It's just that you look so different."

"Me?" You frowned. "You're the one who put on a cows weight in muscle mass."

Gabriel's laughter sprung something within you, something you thought had died a long time ago.

"What's wrong?"

He saw the slight conflict that appeared in your eyes, seizing his laughter.

"Nothing I....I'm fine. A bit tired I guess."

"Don't worry. I'll drive us back to Maresias before sundown."

"Pardon?"

"What?" Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets. His expression goes back to being annoyingly relaxed.

"What did you say about Maresias?"

"Oh, I said I'll get us there before sundown. Traffic here is way faster than in the city."

"We're not going to Maresias." The furrow of your brows deepened.

"Erm... but I thought that's what we agreed on. For you and Nemo to stay with me for the summer?"

"No, we agreed to stay closer to you in the summer. That's why we're here in São Sebastião, so that you can come and visit us without the hassle of coming all the way to the city."

Gabriel appeared bit disoriented. "So you're not coming to stay with me in Maresias?"

"No, absolutely not. What would even make you think—." You stopped yourself. The expression on Gabriel's face saying it all. The letters. One of which burned in your pocket.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel." You said softly. "I know that you want for the three of us to become a family again. However, that's just not happening."

He shook his head. "No, no. I get it. I shouldn't have assumed that you would want to stay with me after all this years. I just wanted to feel closer to my son, that's all."

A string of guilt struck your heart. But then you had to remember the numerous times you prayed for a moment, such as this one. A moment that never came. And it wasn't coming now.

"I'm sorry Gabriel. But this is the way it has to be."

"No, no. It's...fine." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's totally fine."

It wasn't fine. It took you everything not to cry.

"I guess I should head back home then, give the two of you a chance to settle in."

"Thank you Gab—"

"Oh, no, you're not." Your grandmother burst back into the room with Nemo pinned to her hip, a pacifier in his mouth.

"Vovó." You gritted your teeth. "Gabriel can leave if he wants to."

"Not with all those people still out there. If he does, they'll clamp down my yard, and I just planted new flowers."

It was settled, Gabriel was staying for dinner. Your grandmother cooked many of the dishes from your childhood, bringing back good memories. Most of your childhood memories were good. The bad ones were of your parents, who, along with your older brother, passed away in a car accident when you were just a young girl. That's actually how you got closer to Gabriel and his family. He was your brothers best friend, the two of them always up to no good. They'd spend most of their time surfing by the break of rocks, dreaming about going pro someday. At least one of them made it.

"Do you need help?"

You stood in the kitchen, interrupted by Gabriel, who stumbled upon you doing the dishes. Having him for dinner wasn't as bad as you had thought. You just had to ignore the fire that lit up inside of you every time he caught your eye from across the table. Or when his foot accidentally nudged yours underneath it.

"No, but thank you for asking."

"Alright then. Most of the people have left your grandmother's yard now, so I think I'm gonna make my way home."

You turned off the water, your back still turned to Gabriel who stood watching you from the doorway. "I guess I'll see you later then?" You said, swollowing the lump forming in the base of your throat.

"Yes. I'll probably come by the day after tomorrow. I have some work to do with my team until then."

"Your team?" You turned your head, watching him from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah. It's really just me and Rico. Rico, who you might remember? He was friends with Paulo and I back in high school."

"Oh." A weight pressed down on your chest at the mentioning of your brother.

"Yeah, he's actually my fitness coach now. He's gonna help me set up a program to prepare me for the next surfing tour."

"Of course." You nodded, dunking your hands into the dirty dish water just to hide the trembling of them.

"Well....I guess I better tell Nemo goodnight before I leave."

"Yes. Do that."

You stood in silence for a moment, hesitating to turn the water back on. A shadow then appeared behind you, isolating your frame. Gabriel's tattooed arms wrapped around your body, sliding down into the sink, into the dirty dish water.

"Do they still do that." He whispered, his voice deep in your ear.

"Y...yes." You nodded, the heat from his body not making the trembling any better.

"Are you still on medication?"

"No. I stopped taking them when I was pregnant. I guess I never found a reason to take them again."

"This should be a reason." Gabriel raised your hands up and out from the water, revealing your hands. To your surprise they had stopped trembling. But only because Gabriel was squeezing them tightly, stabilizing the panic within you.

His voice was calm in your ear. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. It's normal to take medication for these sorts of things."

"It really isn't." You chuckled. "Not when your family has been dead for years."

Soft lips were pressed into your hair, followed by a whisper, "You're family is not dead. We're right here with you."

You made the mistake of turning around and facing him, his arms caging you between him and the kitchen sink. His lips looked so kissable, Gabriel's eyes convincing you to do just that. Kiss him. However, he only leaned in to knock his forhead against yours. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He kissed your temple and you let him. "Good. I'll see you."

You watched him leave the kitchen and disappear down the hall. A quiet beat, followed by Nemo's laughter suddenly echoing throughout the house, below it and above it, as if he was being tossed in the air. The laughter eventually seized, followed by Gabriel, who passed the kitchen on his way towards the door. "Goodnight, Y/N."

It took everything for you to say it back. "Goodnight Gabriel."

He left the house as you approached the kitchen window, watching him make his way down the driveway back to his car. Some resilient kid from the neighborhood popped out of nowhere with a pen and paper. And like you knew he would, Gabriel took his time to sign his autograph on that piece of paper, leaving the young boy beaming from ear to ear.

"He's a good man, that I'll admit."

"Jesus, vovó. You scared me."

She had appeared by your side like a cat in the night. Like you, her gaze was fixiated out of the window, regarding Gabriel as he finally hopped into his car.

"Just don't let him break your heart again." She said, a stern look on her face. "Never again."

Part 1

[blerb-f1]

"Let them talk" - 2008!Sebastian Vettel x Engineer!Reader (platonic???)

This one is again based on another Song called "Lasse Reden" (Let them Talk) by Die Ärzte. I really like it so give it a listen if you want to.

Let em run their mouths 

Did you do something that normally no one does?

Are you wearing high heels or even a hat?

Or did you wear too skimpy of a dress,

Without asking your neighbors for permission first?

Sebastian flipped the newspaper open, staring disgruntled at the articles badmouthing him. For some reason, German Media weren't a Fan of him. A young, overly confident upstart they could step on easily is what he was to them. 

Of course, now you'll be treated with contempt

You're a disgrace to the whole neighborhood

You don't even know their names

And they're already running their mouths about you. 

You just stared at the awful stuff they said about him. Just where exactly did they get that stuff from? What made them get those ideas? Were they so miserable in their own boring little lifes? 

You leaned forward, comfortingly holding Sebastian's right hand. 

"They don't know you Seb, that's why they're able to pull shit like this" 

Sebastian looked at another article, eyes scanning the rude words laid in front of him. 

"I know that THEY don't know me. That's why they are so rude. I mean, I've just joined Red Bull properly. Taking over after David Coulthard won't be easy but what do they expect? If Horner wants me to be Driver 1, I have to become Driver 1. That's how the Business works. Bashing Me because they wanted Mark to get the spot is idiotic. It's not like we two have that many choices to make in that regard"

You eyed a smaller article, reading the insults that were hurled at you. Being Sebs' equally young and inexperienced Engineer at Toro Rosso was already pretty special but Christian Horner invited you to follow him to the Main Team. Like a Buy one get one free deal. Pretty nice money and friendship wise but pretty bad gossip wise. 

Let them talk, and don't listen to them

Most people just don't have anything better to do

Let them talk, day and night

Let them talk - they always have, anyway

Apparently, something you didn't know about yourself,was that you were the lover of Helmut Marko and got Sebastian into this position by fucking said old fart on top of the RB03. Interesting. Another, even meaner comment, had implied that somehow Sebastian was a paid driver that got in thanks to Flavio Briatore and you had planned Crashgate. Considering that you were just a little engineer at Toro Rosso, that seemed very outlandish. Furthermore, something about Briatore always irked you the wrong way so there was no way in Hell you'd be caught dead around him. Being the same age as Sebastian, you didn't think that people were taking you as capable of stuff like that. A 21y.o. planning something like Crashgate? And even if you somehow were that big brained, in what manner would Fernando Alonso winning the Race benefit Sebastian? You just shook your head at the brainfarts that managed to get printed. 

You've certainly robbed a bank

How else could you afford your rent?

And you've been banned from the United States

Because you're Osama bin Laden's lover

Seb sighed as he read another news out loud: "Michael Schumacher reveals: Vettel too cocky for his own good. The 7x champion despises being around the moronic Rookie". As he finished reading and slouched back into his seat, you just stared in shock. Michael liked Sebastian. He appreciated him as a driver, a young fresh talent and as a fellow German. He treated him more like a son than anything. He was a better not dad than most of those so-called journalists must have had growing up.  You stood up from your own booth seat, sliding over to Sebs Side, bumping into his side while sending him a Comforting Smile. You both sipped the bad Coffee they served in Hospitality, trying to form fictional race tracks out the stains the mugs left on the table.

Do you shave your women's-beard daily

Or do you have a few corpses buried in your garden?

The neighbors surmised as much

So don't be surprised when the detectives drop by

You pointed at another article. "See this one?". The young man moved his eyes to the next page, gazing upon the article squished between ads for most likely racist books and lawnmowers. "Fernando Alonso actually deceased, replaced by a driver that got plastic surgery."

He chucked at the thought of someone learning to be like Fernando Alonso. Some poor bloke forced to do that bunny dance on top of an F1 Car. How even would one imitate a Driver?  "Imagine getting someone to look like Coulthard? Would they put new bones into that chin?" you joked while pointing at your chin. You then hollowed out your cheeks, stretching your face. "Or imagine someone looking like Mark. Like, how do you initiate that?”

Seb started laughing along with you while pretending to give himself a longer chin:"Sebastian Vettel imitates Michael Schumacher. Has this rookie gone too far?" 

The laughter coming from deep down your stomach was so loud that some of the other people in hospitality turned around, staring at you two. Normally you’d hide away in some empty office, eating your cold food there while racing against Sebastian on your two PSP’s that he won in a raffle.

Let them talk and just don't listen

Most people don't mean anything by it

It's their monotonous life that bothers them

And the day becomes much more interesting when you tell stories

Mark, who'd heard your imitations, while walking in, came over and scooted into the booth you sat in earlier while giving you two a comforting smile. "That's the correct way to deal with those stupid fake news" he stated, while stretching his legs under the table. "They'll always think of something stupid to talk about. What are they supposed to report, if not stupid shit like that? You think normal people buy the headline 'Red Bull Racing' s new Talent Sebastian Vettel is a kind bloke'?" 

Seb seemed to tense next to you for a second before relaxing again." You mean, this will go on forever? "

" Yes", Mark answered bluntly. "That's how it's always been and always will be." 

And they probably don't feel ashamed

They lack discretion

And repeatedly prove: [that] they are petty,

inescapable, xenophobic

"Look at the stuff they write about Lewis Hamilton, for example" he said while smiling sadly. "Your slander is just normal slander, he's getting hate simply because his skin colour isn't on their approval page. Formula 1 features people from all over the world, so they pick the easiest target who could be someone who's from a minority group like Lewis or a young fool like you. Those people can span from idiots to hyenas. You gotta learn how to ignore them and especially, not feed them. Fake articles can be fun for a hot minute but blow up and grow into some massive thing "

Did you hear, and say, did you already know?

That is to say, you earn your money through prostitution

You work the corner by the bus station

The colleague of a brother-in-law saw you the other day

"So my Advice for you two: Don't run with what they say about you in public. Be so kind that it hurts. Y/N, don't mention that Crashgate stuff anywhere. The Brazilians won't be happy with your jokes and the media will spin it like you're actually involved and somehow hate everyone from there. Seb, don't treat Me different just because People hate Christian Horner putting you in this position. That's on them, not you. Just be polite and let your racing do the talking. "

His statements were the whole damn truth, leaving you and Seb too stunned to speak. Mark took this chance to take the newspaper away from you, just to chuck them into the trash bin." Let me resolve those issues for you. Drivers need to look out for one another, don't they? Someone gave me the same advice back then so i’m giving it to you now," Seb nodded in agreement, watching the tall man leave catering while the newspaper quickly got covered by leftover Spaghetti. 

Let them talk, just laugh it off

Most people get their information from Bild*

Which consists of, who knew,

Fear, hate, tits, and the weather report

Let them talk, because this is how it is:

As long as they talk, that's the worst they do

And you can afford a little hypocrisy

Stay polite and say nothing - that annoys them the most.

Seb stared at you for a short second before getting up and holding out his hand towards you like a knight to his princess. 

" Y/N, may I invite my strategic Genius to play an evil round of Gran Turismo 4?"

You grabbed his hand, pretending to flip your skirt. 

"Of course, Mr. Evil. But you take the Mad-Catz Controller" 

Seb stared at you with fake shock. The audacity. The Mad-Catz Controller was reserved for poor younger brothers around the world normally. You lost your other proper one during the move to Red Bull though and this one was the one Horner had gotten you after asking you for a new one.

"How dare you make Christian Horner's secret Love Child take the shitty Controller?" 

You stuck out your tongue towards him. "I'm sorry Sebastian Horner, I think having Helmut Marko, Flavio Briatore and Bernie Ecclestone on speed dial makes me the instant winner of the original Controller." 

While Mark had told you to not make fun of that stuff, doing it once or twice won't be too bad, will it? 

*Bild is like a shitty german newspaper with clickbaity titles known to stir hatred, show lots of nudity and general stupidity.  Also yes, i'm having Seb Brainrot rn.

[zabala0z]

I’m very scared to watch the next episodes. Anyways hi, it’s me, your friendly neighborhood host. I got a lot of thoughts and I’m dying here 😭

MAG 72: Takeaway

Another meat thing oh god. Like I physically grimaced when Goodall had his Achilles heel cut like genuinely that’s one of my fears. Also another direct connection to like Christianity and meat. Or like kinda because in Rations I think, that guy made a prayer that was originally a Christian prayer I believe but altered it to put meat in. ALSO, Haan killed his wife but apparently she had self-inflicted wounds as well. I’m thinking this is maybe cult or some kind of like sacrificial thing going on. Maybe the wife wanted to die.

We also have Haans nephew who appeared in “Killing Floor”. He had his own meat sort of story. Guess it runs in the family 💀

MAG 73: Police Lights

I feel like Maxwell Rayner is not dead simply because it’s not the most implausible thing considering Michael Crew pops up in a couple episodes after jumping out a window. But who knows maybe Rayner is truly gone (I am betting not) also Natalie was there which definitely made me feel a little sad. I always feel a lot in terms of cults. I’m trying to figure out what Rayner and like the cult was planning on doing to the kid. Maybe kill him? But I feel like that’s too basic, they were probably doing something else. The fog seemed to hurt when it hit that one police guy like it burned him. Came out of that dusty old man’s mouth after all.

Also Basira quitting? Queen shit. I cannot blame her.

MAG 74: Fatigue

Oh yeah this is good. Something about the disjointed events really adds to the sleep deprived perspective I love it. Also MICHAEL. What is Michael I swear to god. Every appearance of this weirdo makes me more and more confused. What does he get out of this? Is it just for fun? He didn’t seem to benefit at all, like he even told Lydia she looked terrible 💀

It was said he was making spirals out of grass blades. What is with this creature and spirals, like that corridor was trippy too. I’m wondering if spirals are fractals. Lydia was drawing them for some reason. Similar to Evo’s dad in Burned Out.

And I KNEW Sasha was going through the tunnels. Like duh. I think she was the one who screwed up the quality because multiple times have electronics have been screwed around like tape recorder and the computer. I have no idea who that man is though.

MAG 75: A Long Way Down

This statement takes place after Michael jumps out the window. I guess he changed a lot. And he got some drip because why is he wearing a full suit?? I can’t tell if he actually contributed to Grants disappearance because maybe he was doing something else y’all 😭 (I’m in denial.) I am wondering what his little spell did back in Literary Heights. Did he like- bind himself with the lightning thing? I don’t know how that would work. He did say “I am yours” so did he like..sell his soul. That’s what I’m thinking.

Feeling really bad for grant. I don’t have a major fear of heights but the way the situation is described, I’d develop one.

MAG 76: The Smell of Blood

Wooo Melanie King! First time a character gave two statements which is cool. I’m wondering what kind of meme she ended up. Someone draw that.

Not much to say about this episode but oh my god I’m so happy someone noticed Sasha. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. I miss Sasha dude 😭

One thing I’m curious about is like…what is going to be the ending. Because right now, the institute, or technically Jon, has so many probable enemies right now. Like you got the Church of yada yada, the circus, Fake Sasha, all those diseased people, Michael, the Lukas family, etc. Who is going to drop the other shoe? Because right now, they all have the other shoe istg.

[eashmo]

-The terror... the fear...the thrills... of halloween night - 18+

Warnings: Smut, knife play, blood kink (tasting), Teratophilia (i guess), small fluff.

A/N:  happy halloween ya filthy animals.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1984

“Baby girl” he sighs

“Don't baby girl me Billy, we were supposed to have a halloween date tonight, remember?”

“I remembered”

“Then why are you going to Tina’s Halloween party? And did not want to invite me, is it because you don't wanna be seen with me?”

“Of course I want to be seen with you!” he shouted. Causing everyone in the hallway. To look at us. “it's because i know you don't do parties, and i have to show up to overthrow Harrington at being keg king”

“Not everything with him has to be a competition, you know” I scoffed. 

“You don't understand, y/n”

“No i don't, have a nice halloween Hargrove” was the last thing i told him as i left him in the empty hallways. 

(that night)

me and Billy have been fighting a lot more recently, usually about my best friend Steve. I really didn't know what Billy was trying to prove when it came to Steve, that's why i was alone in my house on my most favorite holiday, we were supposed to be having a quite spooky movie night no parents, no siblings and pig out on candy but no he had to go to that stupid party to prove his so called dominance within the school system, i would have gone to the party with him if he asked but with his attitude lately i didn't want to deal with him or drunk people. I'm not going to let my boyfriend ruin my holiday. 

“Fuck it” i popped in my favorite movie Halloween. I had always been intrigued by masked killers ever since i was little, of course my friends thought i was weird because of it but whenever. It was quite thrilling, actually to be dominaned by a masked man. 

I was in the kitchen making some popcorn when I felt like someone was watching me. Peering through the kitchen window, I saw a shadow figure near the bushes, thinking it was just the neighborhood kids trick or treating. I ignored it. I moved to my living room and thought I saw another shadow near my back sliding door window, scoffing thinking I was getting parodied for it being halloween i ignored it again, laying back on the couch i watched the climax of the movie play out. I was so distracted by the killing scene that was playing out on the screen that I immediately jumped when the doorbell rang. I grabbed the candy bowl and opened the door to find no one there.

“Damn kids playing ding dong ditch again” I shook my head as I closed the front door. I didn’t notice the large figure creeping through the living room. As I turned, I was pushed roughly against the door. A large hand was over my mouth, preventing my scream from being heard. The intruder was tall and wore dark blue coveralls and a Michael Myers mask. I instantly felt exposed. I was only wearing a thin white button-down shirt and short booty shorts. He held a kitchen knife, which he used to slowly rip open my shirt. I struggled, fearing for the worse. The intruder didn't say anything as he devoured me with his eyes, I stopped struggling to wait…blue eyes. His hand that covered my mouth went to my neck.

“Billy?”

“Hey baby girl” I knew he was smirking behind the mask. 

“You jerk, you scared me.” I huffed, but then his hand squeezed tightly. Causing me to let out a breathy moan.

He chuckles as he continues to slice my shirt open. He discovered I was braless, I could see his eyes dilate. He suddenly lets go of me.  

“Run” he growled.

 I smirked as I sprinted up the stairs as fast as I could. I could hear the thundering footsteps of him behind me, each step he took turned me on as I raced to my bedroom. I slammed my door closed and locked it as I removed the last bit of clothing I had on. I jumped on the bed as I heard the floor creaking outside of my room. Eventually, I heard the handle trying to turn, Billy gave one solid kick, forcing the door open, he stepped inside of the room, his eyes taking in the sight of me bare on the bed. 

He slowly walked closer to where I lay on the bed. knife tightly gripped in his hand as he approached me. I squeezed my thighs shut as I looked up at the dark eye holes of the mask. He gently ran the back of his knife up my breast to my neck, the sharp tip dragging across my skin before pressing into the front of my neck, a thin trickle of blood falling down my breast. he leaned down, and when i  felt his warm breath on my skin, i realized he pulled his mask up slightly. His tongue ran over my skin gently, and I felt myself shudder with pleasure when he lapped up the crimson liquid.

“B-Billy” I moaned. He slowly went down the curves of my body as his fingers reached my drenched core. He softly ran his fingers over your entrance.

“So wet for me babygirl” his voice husky behind the mask. He pushed a single finger into me, my walls instantly clamped down “only one finger and you're squeezing me so tightly” he curled it as it pushed deep inside of me. I whimpered, wanting more.

“Please”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, abuse me, cut me, whatever you wish i just need more!” He added a second and third finger. My eyes rolled back as he finger fucked my tight pussy. He lifted the knife and pressed it back down into my skin, he made a deeper cut on my thigh, bending down his mouth and lapping up the blood then was immediately on my clit. The pain and pleasure made me see stars as he scissored his fingers inside of me as he continued to carve little lines on my thighs.

“Billy.. I’m”

“Cum for me” 

I could feel myself release on his fingers seeing white. He pulled the knife back and licked off the rest of my blood that coated the silver. Standing up He then removed his fingers from me and cleaned those off, slowly savoring my release and blood mixed together.

I looked up at him, dazed, and breathed heavily. He fixes the mask and he unzips the coveralls and rolls it at his lower hip, his bare chest sweaty, he pulls out his cock. 

“Do you want me to fuck you with the mask on? or off?”

“on”

“As you wish baby girl” he lines himself up, his tip tensing my slit. I wrapped my legs around his waist using my heels to push him in. He groaned as I squeezed him, and he was barely in. One thrust he roughly bottoms out, he growls as he fills every inch of my pussy. I moaned loudly when he pulled back, arching himself over me he thrust into me roughly. He used the head board as leverage. He began moving himself at a steady pace. He fucked me like He needed to remind me of who i belonged to. I love dominate Billy. faster and harder he moved, I was completely at his mercy, and he knew it.

 “ All mine” he growled in my ear.

“As much i love the masked i want to see my boyfriends face now as he fucks me” he ripped off the mask in one swift movement, his hair stuck on his sweaty face and neck. He looked delicious. He swallowed my moans as they spilled from my throat as he kissed me. His kisses went down to my throat, his teeth clamped down on my skin as his thrusts got sloppier. I gripped onto him and screamed out as I came over him, he was right behind me with his release, he growls out my name as his cum coats the walls of my pussy, right where it belongs. We whispered i love yous as we came down from our highs. He collapsed on top of me. 

“sorry for being a dick lately, and I didn't go too far with the cutting, did i?”

“its ok and no baby, it was actually kinda hot, especially when you licked up the blood” I giggled “ Also, what happened with going to Tina’s party?”

“good to know" he winked but he continued to speak "I realized how lame it was to keep competing with my girlfriend's best friend and I would rather spend my time with that said beautiful horror freak girlfriend because it is our date night after all” he chuckles.

“How did you know I fantasized about Myers?” 

“I heard from Harrington at basketball practice that you sorta have a thing for Michael Myers, so I decided to surprise you”

“It definitely was a good surprise” I grinned.

“Happy halloween, baby girl” 

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