#once she realized what the “michael” part needs from her

[friszil]

of course michael distortion was born angry. but hey guys do think it would still try to be near gertrude subconsciously searching for her approval just as michael shelley did. now intentionally unsettling and intimidating and sarcastic and mocking and derisive but still something along the lines "you can't get rid of me, you can't abandon me now. i stay here, therefore you have no choice but to accept me. please accept me again; please show that you didn't mean what you did."

thinking about this one au where michael distortion continues to work in the archives after michael shelley's death because apparently you can't leave the archives even if you aren't you anymore

[kingofpopmj]

Girl, I Can Thrill You More Than Any Ghoul Would Ever Dare Try

Summary: A beautiful backup dancer catches Michael’s eye during the filming of Thriller. Being friends seemed like a good idea until masking feelings becomes too difficult.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader!

Warning: FRIENDSHIP, JEALOUSY, TWO CLUELESS IDIOTS IN LOVE

Requested: yes

All the dancers were gathered outside of a tall building. They each had matching ID’s hanging around their necks. A mixture of excitement and anticipation filled the air.

“Hello, everyone! Can I get your attention please.” A tall man with brown hair and thick beard waved his hand in the air. “Thank you all for being here early, I’m John Landis, the director of this lovely project. Today, we’re technically still rehearsing, but I need you to give it your all. Dance like each run through is the finale.” Everyone cheered and applauded his announcement. “That’s what I like to hear! Let’s get in there and make history!”

Once inside, everyone changed into their dance shoes and took a few minutes to introduce themselves to one another.

When Michael arrived it was twenty minutes before the scheduled start time and to everyone’s surprise he immediately went around greeting each individual.

“Hi, what’s your name?” He asked with a grin on his face. “I’m Michael.” His hand extending.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s so great to meet you. I’m Michael— wait I already said that. Didn’t I?” He chuckled nervously as his face turned a deep red. “How are you? How was the drive over? Did you travel from far away? Where are you from originally? When did you start dancing?” He shot out every single thing he was thinking by accident. And, it was only then that he realized he was still holding her hand.

“I’m good. Thank you for asking.” She laughed, giving herself a moment to remember all of his questions. “The drive over wasn’t too bad. I’m from—”

“Michael!” John jogged over, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Come on kid. We should get started.” John smiled before looking to see what had the young man’s attention. “You’ll have time to make friends later. Sorry doll, I gotta steal him from you.”

“No problem.” She smiled, looking at Michael then down at their connected hands. “I should probably…”

“Oh, right!” He snapped out of his trance. “Sorry, you probably need your hand. I mean don’t we all. Wait— that— did that— I don’t mean I need your hand. I meant you need your hand. It’s a nice hand— very nice.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was sweet and even her laugh was comforting. Michael could tell that even though he was making a fool of himself, she wasn’t laughing at him. He couldn’t stop looking at her, his feet were planted and the only thing that got him away from her was John dragging him in the opposite direction.

“You’re really one with the ladies Jackson.” John teased.

“Shut up. That was humiliating.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“You always enjoy when I make an ass out of myself, you schmuck.”

“Hey, I didn’t tell you to go talk up the pretty lady without a game plan.”

“I wasn’t trying to talk her up.”

“Good because you did a shit job.”

“I hate you.” Michael pinched John’s arm.

“Relax kid. I’ll give you some pointers later, but for now we gotta get to work.”

Michael nodded, the embarrassment still lingered in the back of his mind. He caught himself more than once watching her movements through the mirrors. He hoped no one else could see what he was doing, but he decided that if they did he’d own it. He wouldn’t feel ashamed of admiring a beautiful woman. He studied how she used every part of her body to tell the story— he was so lost in her hips that he didn’t realize three hours came and went.

“Alright, you guys are looking great! I think we’ve reached a great ending point for our first day. However, I do have one tiny suggestion, I think Michael would agree with me on this, we need you.” John smiled, pointing at her, she stepped forward confidently. “Yes, you. You’d be perfect right here.” He guided her to stand beside Michael and sent the male dancer to her old spot. “That’s what you wanted, right Michael?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s definitely more balanced. I like that very much.” He nodded at her, chuckling when she waved back. “Nice to see you again.” He whispered.

“Very nice.” She agreed, tugging her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“Alright, see you all bright and early tomorrow. Rest up well my lovely zombies!” Everyone laughed, dispersing to collect their belongings.

John gave his young friend a very obnoxious thumbs up and made a motion with his hands, encouraging him to keep the conversation going.

“You’re a really good dancer.” Michael faced her, tilting his head as his eyes wandered her figure.

“Thank you. You aren’t bad yourself. Seriously, the choreography is no joke. It looks awesome. I can’t wait to see it once we’re on in costumes and makeup.”

“Well, honestly, I think it’s you that makes it look awesome.”

“Thank you…” She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. He was being so sweet and she didn’t know how to respond.

“I never got the chance to ask…” He reached out, his hand resting on her arm as he guided them over to a secluded corner. “Where are you from?”

She laughed at how secretive he was being over such a normal question. She offered the name of her hometown and a bit of a back story about how she ended up in Los Angeles. He hung on every word like he was going to be quizzed later.

“How about you? Do you like living here?” She asked, leaning against the wall and opening her water bottle. She was so calm. She treated him like a person and it felt good.

“I enjoy it. My entire family is here now too, so that helps. I don’t like feeling isolated.”

“Oh, you’re one of the lucky ones. I wish my family were closer, but we make it work.”

“Do you have friends here?” He perked up, hoping he could be added to that list.

“Um… yes, a few. Mostly people I’ve met along the way. I make sure to keep a busy schedule, with work and school, so I never feel too lonely.”

“Well, I can— we can be friends.” The sweetness laced in his words made her heart flutter.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.” They shared a moment of silence, softly giggling as they looked at each other.

“Michael!” John shouted, waving him over.

“Sorry, I gotta—”

“No worries, duty calls.”

Michael approached John with the biggest smile on his face. He avoided his friend’s inquisitive gaze, unzipping his jacket before shrugging it off.

“So, you’re really not going to tell me how it went?” He stared at his young friend, squinting his eyes as if to try to comprehend how he wasn’t uncontrollably gushing over the girl.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michael dodged the question, suddenly having all the patience in the world as he tossed his jacket on a nearby table.

“Spill. What did you two talk about?”

“Nothing really. You called me away before I could get anywhere.”

“Oh, where are you trying to go with her lover boy?” John laughed, his hand smacking against his thigh as he teased him.

“Shut up.” Michael covered his face, failing to hide his embarrassment. “Please, don’t laugh at me.” His tone was sad which made the director frown— he hated how quickly Michael’s body language changed.

“Walk with her.” John stated. His tone was steady now and he wanted nothing more than to give his friend the confidence the world was slowly stripping from him. “And, for the record, I’d never laugh at you.” He knew how sensitive Michael could be, especially when he thought he was being made fun of. He never wanted to make him feel that way, so he did his best to reassure him.

“Alright. What do you mean walk with her?”

“Lover boy, walk her to her car. You know, it’s dark out, chivalry will get you a long way.” He pointed at him clicking his tongue to further sell his point.

“Oh, I see.”

“Go on. You got this.”

“Wait! What should I say to her? I don’t think— I’m not sure how— John, what if she doesn’t like me?”

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. Kid, you gotta stop selling yourself short. She was clearly enjoying talking to you, so you’ve got nothing to stress over. Honestly, I think she’s into you. Just keep being yourself.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll give it a try. I think—”

“No, no, don’t think. You gotta get out of your head and stop doubting yourself. She’ll love you, just be you— everything else will flow on its own. Now, go. Hurry, she’s about to leave.”

Michael shook his head vigorously, grabbing his jacket and sprinting over to the door she was about to push open.

“Y/N!” She looked back, smiling when she saw it was Michael. He stopped a few steps away from her.

“Hi, friend.” She grinned at him, adjusting the bag that hung off her shoulder.

“I’d like to walk you to your car, is that okay?” He waited patiently for her response. She was overwhelmed with his tenderness.

“It’s more than okay, but if you have other things to do, it’s okay.”

“I’d really like to accompany you. Really.”

“Such a gentleman.” She reached for the door, but he jumped in front of her.

“Allow me.” He held the door open for her and it made her entire face heat up. Their bodies brushed against one another as she walked out to the hall. “Here. I’ll take this for you.” He didn’t wait for her response this time. He just slid the strap of her bag off her shoulder and onto his.

“Thank you. You’re so sweet.” She took a small step towards him, her hand landing on his bicep and her fingers curling around it slowly. “Is this okay?” She questioned.

“Oh yes.” He answered quickly, growing more flustered by her touch than he thought he would.

John watched the interaction discreetly from afar with a proud expression on his face. “My boy.” He whispered to himself, the door shut and he couldn’t hear them anymore, but seeing it was enough. They gawked at each other a little longer before walking off and that’s when he gently fist pumped into the air.

“So, what kind of things do you like doing in your free time?” Michael spoke confidently.

“I like baking—”

“I’d love to try your baking!” He interrupted her enthusiastically. “What’s your favorite thing to bake?”

“Hm… if I have to choose it’d be cheesecake or cookies.”

“If you’re up for it maybe you could teach me a thing or two?”

“That would be really fun. You’d look good in an apron.”

“You’d look better.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to find out soon, huh?”

“I was getting there. I was just working up the courage.”

“Alright.” She stopped walking and faced him. An arch in her eyebrow as she looked back at him, a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Ask me.”

“Would you like to hang out with me sometime?”

“Hang out sometime?” She repeated, trying to hide her disappointment as his phrasing.

“Yeah, that’s what friends do right?” Michael smiled, silently kicking himself at the use of friends. He definitely doesn’t want to be friends— he wants more.

“Yeah, yeah. They do.” She crossed her arms and tried to keep her voice steady. She felt like an idiot for thinking he would ask her on a date.

“Well, would you?”

“I’d love to. When are you free?”

“For you, any day.” He was turning up his flirting again and although she was loving it— it was also very confusing. Was he asking her out or not?

“Is Saturday good for you? I’ve got a busy week with school and work. Unless…” she decided to test the waters again— one last time. “We’re all going out to dinner on Friday. The cast party thing.” She crossed her fingers hoping the curly haired dancer would say the right thing.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot about that. Well, I’d like to spend time with you. The two of us. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“You’re a real smooth talker.” She liked his answer. It wasn’t as up front as she’d like, but it was a step in the right direction.

“I try.” He shrugged. “At least I get to see you during rehearsals this week. I have you for three hours everyday.”

“Lucky you.”

“I get to see a beautiful face like yours. I’m more than lucky.”

“Mr. Jackson, you’re making me blush.” She tried to cover her face with her hand, but he stopped her.

“Wow. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier.” His eyes scanned her face. He wasn’t staring at her, he was admiring her and it made her feel more self conscious than she was proud to admit.

“So, what do you like to do?” She turned on her heels and started walking again.

“I love movie nights. I have this giant projector screen and I make popcorn. It’s a nice little escape from reality.”

“I’d love to have a movie night with you.” She propositioned, feeling bold under the dark blue night sky.

“Friday it is, after the cast dinner. Movie starts at eight, sound good?”

“It sounds great.”

“I’m so excited.” He murmured honestly.

“Here.” She let his arm go briefly, leaning towards him to dig into her bag. A piece of paper and pen in hand as she began scribbling. “Um… this is my address and phone number.” She gently placed it in his palm.

“It’s a date.” He clapped his hands triumphantly before he processed his words. “Not a date— I didn’t mean we— date— or if you want— we can— the funny thing about dating—”

“Michael…” His stomach did a flip when he felt her hand move against his. “We can be friends hanging out or if we both— if we like each other this can be a date.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay.” His smile helped her let out the breath she was holding in. It didn’t occur to either of them that they’d failed to label what Friday night would be because they were to wrapped up in each other. He closed his hand around hers and tried to hold back, but he couldn’t resist. He dipped his head and kissed the top of her hand.

The rest of the week went by painfully slow. Y/N found herself begging for the clock to read the right numbers. She couldn’t wait to see Michael. They didn’t get much time together alone, but somehow she felt closer to him with each day that passed. He waited for her and made a habit of walking her to her car every night. They’d fallen into a routine which had become her favorite time of the day, his too. She put up a playful fight, but deep down she loved hearing the silly excuses he came up with. For example, he claimed to have seen rabid squirrels around and wanted to keep her safe. That one was her favorite.

“Why don’t you ride with me? I’ve got more than enough space.”

“My car is here though. I don’t want you to have to bring me back—”

“Y/N, I don’t mind. Please, I insist.” He looked so happy, so full of hope. “I haven’t got to spend much time with you this week.”

“How could I say no to that smile?” The glow of the streetlights brought a level of calmness that she appreciated. Her stomach was full of butterflies being so close to him— being alone with him.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful.” He stepped closer, his hand found her hip. His touch was sweet and comforting, giving her enough time to move away from him, but she didn’t. She stood before him with wide eyes, leaning into him, all insecurity pushed to the back of her mind.

“So are you.” She whispered, looking deep into his big brown eyes. Their chests pressing against one another as his hand traveled up to cup her face. They were so close and if it weren’t for the bright headlights startling them, they would’ve melted into one another, but instead the space between them grew— he jumped away from her. He scrambled away from her at lightning speed, leaving her to feel not only rejection, but shame.

“We should probably get going.” Michael coughed, running his fingers through his hair as the vehicle that interrupted them drove by, blasting loud music.

“Yeah, they’re probably waiting for us.” She didn’t look at him, quickly getting into the car and putting the seatbelt on. She focused her gaze out the window as they sped through the city to their destination.

Michael nervously fidgeted the entire drive, he wanted to reach out to her, say something, but he couldn’t. She wouldn’t even look at him.

When the car stopped in front of the restaurant, she jumped out of the car and basically sprinted to the entrance.

“Wait up!” Michael yelled after her, she turned to face him. “Wait!”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” Her voice sounded so delicate it made him feel an overwhelming ache in his chest.

“What? No. Of course not.” He tried to reassure her as they stood in front of the doors.

“Are you sure? It seems—” she was cut off by Michael turning his back to her suddenly at the sound of footsteps. She felt the humiliation set in as she studied the back of his head. She didn’t need to say anything else— she had her answer.

She didn’t even blame him, he was— he’s who he is and she’s just a back up dancer.

When he turned back around she was gone. He was certain he ruined things before they could even begin. It’s exactly what he was afraid of. He’s an expert at destroying anything good in his life.

The energy shifted entirely once inside the restaurant, Y/N didn’t look back. She hugged her coworkers taking a seat at the long table.

“How did you get here? Your car was still in the lot when I left.”

“Michael gave me a ride.” She shrugged, crossing her legs as her friends closed in on her with big grins on their faces.

“Oh, getting in good with the boss man, are we?” They laughed, a few of them throwing balled up candy wrappers at her.

“Shush. You guys are ridiculous.”

“Well, he didn’t offer me a ride. Did he offer anyone else a ride in his horse drawn carriage?” A chorus of ‘no’s’ followed as the teasing continued.

“It’s because he’s not trying to wine and dine you, only our little twinkle toes here. He’s totally got it bad for her. Remember yesterday when she tripped and he all about lost it calling for medics— she didn’t even need a bandaid.”

“Stop.”

“Yeah, he’s got a soft spot for this one.”

“No he doesn’t. He’s just being nice. He’s nice to all of us.”

“Yeah, he’s nice but for you, he’s extra nice.”

“He’s nice to all of us, true, but he doesn’t give us all fuck me eyes.”

“Oh my god!” Y/N was horrified, burying her face in her hands.

“It’s true.”

“Please stop talking before someone hears you.”

“Oh, come on! He looks at you like he rather see you dancing on a pole.” One of the guys jumped up requesting high fives as he held his hand up.

“That was a good one!”

“He’s trying to get into your bloomers.”

“You guys stop.” Y/N laughed, shaking her head at the unnecessary attention.

“He doesn’t walk me to my car! Boy, wouldn’t even notice if I got run over. He’s too focused on you.”

“You’re all very mentally flawed individuals.” Y/N flipped them off and they all returned the sentiment.

“Woah, what did we miss?” John’s voice sounded from behind her and they all quickly dropped their hands.

“Oh, nothing.” One of them answered. “Just some good old team bonding.”

“That’s great to hear! So, are we ready to get this party started?” He asked, earning a loud cheer from everyone.

They had the entire place to themselves which gave them unlimited access to everything. Y/N was playing air hockey with a few people when she noticed Michael’s uneasy demeanor. He was leaned up against the wall, watching with a half smile on his face. It was like he wanted to participate, but felt like he’d be rejected, so he just observed. She watched closely when he pushed himself off the wall and sped walked down a hallway.

“Hey, play for me!” She handed over her pusher, sprinting off and ignoring the confused looks.

The dimly lit hallway caused some fear to bubble up inside of her, but she continued on anyway. At the end of the hall were the restrooms, she heard rustling in the men’s room and stopped in her tracks. She focused on the sound and knew it was him.

“Michael?” She knocked softly.

“Y— yeah. I’m— I’m— fine.”

“Do you— can I come in?”

“Please.” His voice sounded strained, a few seconds went by and she heard the door unlock.

She opened the door slowly as to not scare him. He turned away from her, burying his face in his hands.

“Michael.”

“Hm.”

“Turn around. Look at me.” She sounded sweet, but he couldn’t bring himself to face her.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. It’s me.” Her palms rested cautiously on his wrists. “Come on.” She cooed, her thumbs running small circles on his hand and finally he let her take control.

“You don’t have to— you can go back out there.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone.”

“I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“It’s not a big deal. I understand. We can still be friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat bluntly, she blinked slowly, her throat closing rapidly and she became very aware of the fact she’s probably overstayed her welcome.

“O— Okay.” It was clear she was thinking of leaving with the way she glanced back at the door.

“No!” His body practically transported to block the exit and stop her. “I meant I don’t want to be your friend and nothing else.”

“Nothing else?” She asked, a confused expression on her face.

“It’s just— I mean— we can be best friends.” He said in a panic.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She nodded along and felt her stomach drop at the tone of his voice.

“Um— thanks for checking on me.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for right?” She chuckled nervously. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I think so. I don’t really know how to be around people and I don’t want to ruin anyone’s time.”

“You won’t ruin anything. What are you so worried about?”

“I’m not used to being around people my age. I don’t go out like this. It’s all new to me. I don’t want to be laughed at.”

“Michael, no one is going to laugh at you.”

“I want to feel normal for a night, you know? I thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity, but I saw everyone playing games and laughing together. I don’t know how to be part of it. I’m never included in things like this— I’m always kept separate from everything. It sucks.”

“Come on. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” She held her hand out and waited for him to give in.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll fit in— I never do.”

“You fit in just fine. Michael, you’re so fun to be around. You deserve to enjoy yourself and make new friends. No one is going to make fun of you or make you feel out of place. I wouldn’t let that happen. There’s a good group of people out there and the night is still young. What do you say?”

“I say…”

“Hey, don’t you trust me?”

“Yes. I trust you.” He smiled, taking her hand without a second thought.

“Well, did you or didn’t you enjoy yourself?” She asked, climbing into the car as he held the door open.

“I did. You were right. Who knew I was so good at air hockey?” He laughed, sitting beside her and shutting the door.

“You were a natural! I can’t believe you’ve never played before.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“What?”

“I have an air hockey table at home…”

“You lied!” She shouted, turning towards him with her mouth wide open in shock.

“Kind of, but I didn’t mean to! I was nervous and I don’t know it just slipped out. Then, everyone started cheering for me and I couldn’t tell the truth! It felt good— I felt like a college student, hanging out with friends.” He shrugged bashfully and she couldn’t help but emphasize.

“I guess I’ll keep your secret. I’m glad you had fun with everyone.”

“And now, movie night!” He cheered as the car pulled into the driveway of his home.

They made their way inside and Y/N did her best not to look too blown away by his home. It was huge and beautiful. She tried to act as though this wasn’t her first time in a mansion, but hell was it difficult.

“You can leave your stuff here. The movie theater is on the other side of the property. I’ll just grab a few blankets.”

“Movie theater?”

“Yeah, we can drive one of the golf carts over. It’s too far to walk.”

“Golf carts. Plural.”

“You want to drive your own? We can race.”

“I’ve never driven one before, so I’ll just ride with you.”

He beamed at her, the way she was trying not to freak out over his home was commendable. He knew she wanted him to feel normal around her and he appreciated the hell out of that. When they made their way outside Y/N sat next to him trying hard not to let her gaze wander around the yard, he chuckled, placing the blankets in her lap and driving off at a steady pace.

“Here we are.” He sang softly, guiding her over to the tall brick building.

“Woah.” She whispered as he flipped on the lights revealing the theater. “It’s so nice. No way! You have a cotton candy machine!” She squealed, running over to it and searching for the on switch.

“It’s right there.” He laughed, pressing the button and watching closely as her eyes lit up. “I’m going to go get the movie started.”

She nodded, not looking away from the machine, she poured the sugar in and clapped as it fluffed up. The movie screen lit up and he dimmed the lights before making his way over to sit next to her.

“Here!” She held out a giant cloud of cotton candy.

“You’re funny.” He commented, looking on as she did a little happy dance in her seat.

“What?”

“Nothing I just like seeing you so happy.”

“This is going to be the best movie night ever.”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled, the darkness of the room hiding the longing look in his eyes.

“Thank you for having me over.”

“To the first of many.” He grins, holding his cotton candy in the air looking to her to match his gesture.

“Definitely.” She raised her cotton candy and bumped it into his causing them both to crack up.

About half way into the movie, and after what felt like a ton of candy and popcorn, he decided to try something. He unfolded a blanket, laying it across both of their laps. She thanked him quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder, without hesitation his arm went to wrap around her. He was surprised with himself, he’d never made a move like that before.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice low, cautious not to completely interrupt the movie.

"Sure, funky feet. What's up?" He laughed, shaking his head at her silly nickname for him.

"Oh, shush, twinkle toes." He threw some popcorn at her which she attempted to block with a pillow.

"What's your question?"

"Why are you friends with me? Do you— don't you think I'm weird?"

"I'm friends with you because you're kind and we have a lot in common. You’re a good person and I think maybe some of that goodness could rub off on me. I enjoy being around you— we have fun together, don't you think?"

"Yes." He blushed.

"Good, I'm glad you agree."

"You didn't answer—"

"Michael, you aren't weird. You're actually very normal— all the insane talent and worldwide admiration aside... you're just a guy. A great guy with a good head on your shoulders and a pure heart. You are not weird."

"You really think so?"

"You're one of my favorite people for a reason."

Michael didn't say anything. He knew if he opened his mouth he'd end up bursting into tears.

For some reason her acceptance made him emotional. He squeezed her hand and that was enough. She knew.

Y/N laughed along with her friends as they walked out onto the road at the shooting location. It was a simple setting which would make them stand out even more. She felt some nerves as she watched the crew begin setting up their equipment. The group of dancers planned to run through the routine once, fix any possible errors, make the most out of the space before getting into hair, makeup and costumes for filming. She couldn’t help but notice how eager she felt to see him.

“Hey, you think boss man had a good time last night?” One of the guys asked out loud.

“I think so. He seemed to feel more comfortable with a certain someone beside him.” Her friend spoke, nudging her with her elbow. “Isn’t that right, lovely?” She giggled, using the nickname Michael had let slip so effortlessly the night before.

“Would you cut it out?” Y/N replied. “We get along. He’s cool.”

“He’s cool.” They mocked her jokingly.

“Y/N, he is so into you.”

“We’re friends.” She reiterated, focusing on tying her shoelaces, so she could ignore the pang in her chest.

“I bet you twenty bucks you two are boinking by the end of the week.”

“End of the week? More like end of the hour. Unless… they’ve already got it on…” They stared at her waiting for confirmation.

“You guys are being so inappropriate.” She said, laughing at their bluntness.

“Y/N.” One of the guys stood next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “We’re friends, right?”

“Right.” She answered, a little confused about where this was going.

“Yeah, friends. Which means, you’d never look at me the way you look at him—”

“I don’t—”

“And, you’d feel aggressively ill if I looked at you or spoke to you the way he does. You guys— the two of you are being really annoying denying what’s between you.”

“You can say that again!” Someone shouted.

“There’s— I don’t know what you guys want me to do.”

“Anything is better than doing nothing.” He smiled, hugging her tightly before pulling her along with him to join the rest of the dancers as they rehearsed.

As they moved to the music she tried to ignore everyone’s jokes, but she knew they were right. She had a crush— more than a crush, but she was sure Michael experienced that all the time— girls falling for him. She didn’t want to ruin their friendship over her feelings, especially when he’d expressed to her how difficult it was for him to make friends. He needed a friend and she was willing to be there for him. She’d do anything for him.

“Excited?” She asked enthusiastically as she approached Michael and John during their break from dancing.

“What?” He responded hastily.

“Oh, I just asked if you were excited?”

“Like you care.” He muttered, walking off and disappearing into his trailer.

She stood there dumbfounded, unable to take her eyes off where he’d been standing. John watched the exchange and felt out of place. He didn’t know what to do, the poor girl looked crushed. All the happiness vanished from her being in an instant.

“He’s just stressed.” He offered with a kind smile.

“Oh okay.”

“You should go check on him. We have some extra time.”

“I don’t think he wants to see me.”

“He does. Believe me. Go, it’ll help calm him down.” She nodded, walking over to his trailer, filled with uncertainty. Yet, here she was, knocking on his door, excited for him to answer. She just wanted to see his face.

“Come in.” His voice called from the other side.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rude. I guess I’m just—”

“Stressed?” She smiled, finishing his sentence.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m here to help. What can I do? Do you want to pull a prank on John? I’ve got some good ideas.” She giggled wickedly, expecting him to be her accomplice without much persuasion.

“Do you— are you dating him?”

“What?”

“Are you dating him?” He questioned, his words coming out slowly.

“Who? What are you talking about?”

“The guy. The one that was all over you.”

“No one was all over me. I’m not dating—”

“He had his arm around you. You were laughing and smiling. It looked like you enjoyed it.” He spoke, looking down at the floor as his voice became weak.

“He— what? No.”

“You two looked pretty cozy.”

“We are friends. That’s all. No coziness.” She argued, her hands held up in front of her defensively. “Where is this coming from?”

“Ok.”

“Michael?”

“Hm…” He mumbled, staring at the dirty tiled floor.

“Why did that have you so worked up… the idea of me dating him?”

“I wasn’t worked up.” He stated unconvincingly.

“Really? Then, what do you call it?”

“I call it— it’s just— you know we’re friends— I was being a good friend— worrying about you. I mean I wouldn’t want you, my friend, to date… date a guy— date a jerk. Date someone…”

“So, this is just about us being friends?” She asked, her voice becoming louder as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what we are.”

“The friend thing again.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me? Why are you, my ‘friend’, so pissed off at the thought of me going on a date?” She asked, even using air quotes around the word friend. She was frustrated with all the mixed signals.

“Well, I’m not sure— I’m not mad about you going on a date—”

“Okay, well I’ll just go ask him on a date then, since you see something so special between us.” She threatened, spinning around and reaching for the door knob.

“No! You’re making rash decisions. Don’t do that Y/N!” He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door. “I don’t want you to do that!”

“Why not?”

“I— I don’t know. He’s not right for you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I— I don’t— can you just not do that please?” He begged, looking into her eyes like a lost puppy.

“Why? Tell me. Michael, just say it.”

“Please, don’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know— don’t know— I don’t know what to say— just please don’t.” He stumbled over his words and felt his hands begin to sweat.

“Do you like me?” She inquired calmly, doing her best not to let her true feelings show, but also trying to avoid being hurt by his answer.

“Yeah. Yes, of course I like you.”

“As more than a friend?” He stared at her blankly, so she tried to relieve some pressure. “When I say the word friend about other people I meant it, you know? It’s simple, but with you. It feels like it means more. You’re special— to me you’re a one of a kind… friend.”

“Oh— well I mean I— I don’t want to say the wrong— I don’t— I screw things up— I feel things— I feel— I can’t— I’m not sure how to explain.”

“I like you.” She whispered, stepping towards him, her tongue dragged against her lips quickly, but to him it happened in slow motion. “More than a friend…”

“You… me?” He asked in disbelief. “How?”

“Seriously? How could I not like you?”

“I— oh— this…”

“It’s okay. I guess I read this wrong. Listen, I want to be your friend anyway. I can put my feelings aside—”

“Aside? No, no.”

“No?”

“Don’t put them aside. Please, I’m crazy about you.”

“Crazy, huh?”

“I can’t put into words the way I feel about you.”

“Then, show me.” She closed the space between them, her chest bumping against his with each breath. He swallowed any nerves he was about to voice, how could he feel anything negative when she was looking at him like that.

“Y/N.” He hummed her name just as his lips touched hers. His heart was pounding, his fingers trembling as they dug into her hips. Her arms wrapped around him and she moaned into his mouth.

He carefully walked her backwards, pushing her up against the wall. She let out a surprised yelp at how he took control, but that only turned him on further. She tugged his shirt off and he pulled her top over her head. The sight of her lacey bra brought him to a halt— he needed a moment to catch his breath.

“Michael?”

“You’re beautiful.” He breathed out. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted all this time being so afraid when I could’ve been kissing these perfect lips.”

“I can’t believe I waited all this time for you to finally make a move. I was growing impatient.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “Thank you, for helping me make my move. You lovely woman.” He buried his face against her neck.

“You’re giving me goosebumps.”

“Sorry.” He retrieved a button down shirt from his clothing rack, draping it across her shoulders and slowly buttoning it. “As much as I’d like to get you out of all your clothes… we’ve got all the time in the world for that. I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to mess this up. I want to do this right, you deserve to be taken on dates and maybe… possibly… if you’re interested… allowing me to call myself your boyfriend.”

“I love the sound of that… boyfriend.”

“Are you free for a mini impromptu date right now, my beautiful, incredibly talented girlfriend?” He questioned, tucking her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers drag down the soft skin of her cheek.

“Oh, and what does this impromptu date entail?”

“A little of this…” his hands moved slowly down to the curve of her ass. “A lot of this…” he tilted his head, kissing her deeply, his tongue moving so perfectly, so sensually and it drove her crazy. When his lips traveled down to her neck, leaving wet kisses, she hooked her leg around his hips. She grinded against him, fully aware of what she was doing and feeling his hard growing made her smile into the kiss. They knew that eventually they’d go all the way, but for now they felt alive teasing one another.

In her mind she wondered what else he could do with his tongue. She looked forward to finding out. She was yearning to know how’d he feel on top of her or under her— any and every position really peaked her interest.

As she moved her hips against his, he wondered how good it would feel to be inside her. He couldn’t wait to hear all the beautiful sounds she’d make and how loud he could get her to scream his name.

[nena-la-fresa]

The Dragon and The Wolf |Part 4|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Part 3

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f! Stark Reader

Warning: Smut with Plot | Pregnancy | Soft Aemond | Biting | P in V | Light Choking | Oral F Receiving | Tiny bit of a Violent Dream | A bit of angst

Word Count: 4052

A/N: Hasn't been proof read yet. Sorry this one is a long one but I wanted to end it here. Ik i wouldn't be able to commit to a longer story. So imma stop it here before I fuck it up. I also plan on writing some one shots of Aemond and some of Michael Gavey cuz I have a small obsession with this man at the moment.

No matter how many times you had visited the godswoods in the Red Keep you had not seen a single vision. You had kneeled there for hours, yet nothing. You prayed to them, hoping they had not abandoned you. This gift they had kissed upon you had been taken for what felt like a month. You hoped this would not be the end of your life and your families. Even if it was the end you kept praying. 

“M’lady please.” Your maid begged you once again as she had an hour ago. 

“Mira, you do not need to stay. I’ll do another hour.” 

“M’lady please. You’ll catch a cold, you’re drenched. We need to warm you up.” 

You finally opened your eyes, you looked down and noticed the smell of the water beneath your knees. The way your loose hairs had stuck onto your neck and face, and the way the water had tickled your cheek as it ran down. Now out of your trance you heard heavy footsteps approaching you and Mira. 

Ser Criston Cole had appeared, with a blank expression on his face he spoke, “The queen would like to speak to you.” 

You sighed before getting up, “Thank you Ser Criston Cole. Let me change and then I shall meet with her.” 

“Now” He had hardly spoken. 

Taken aback by his tone, “Are those in her words or your?” 

“The matter is urgent. She would like to speak now.” 

“Alright.” You rolled your eyes before attempting to pat off the dirt that had clung to your dress. 

In a hushed hiss voice Mira spoke, “M’lady you sat there in the rain for hours. A simple pat would not take it out.” 

You said nothing but a quiet sorry. She was right to be upset though.

You had gotten looks from almost everyone as you walked down the corridors to the Queens chambers. You had excused Mira as you and Cole had entered the room. As the doors opened Alicent had turned around, her eyes widened. 

“My gods, what on earth happened to you.” She grabbed a blanket nearby and walked over to you to wrap you with it. 

“Forgive me your grace. I was praying in the godswoods and had not noticed the rain.” You pause and cling onto the warmth. “I was going to change but Ser Criston Cole said it was urgent.” 

In the corner of your eye you could see him glare at you. “The matter was urgent but you could have changed.” She began to pull you towards the fire to warm up. “I’ll keep it short then.” 

As you both were seated she handed you a cup of tea. “I’m sorry for the bluntness but, have you bleed?” 

Your hands stopped, it took you a moment to process. It had been a month, a month of praying to the gods of the old. A month of sitting there and not a single moment had you realized you never bleed. An entire month, you had never been late, your cycle was always on time, maybe a few days late but never a month. “I” You paused, “No, I haven't. Not since before the wedding.” 

With a bit of remorse on Alicents face, she gave a half smile. That look you had was one she knew all too well. “That’s wonderful. It’s wonderful news, especially news we can give out at Aemonds coronation day.” 

“Oh, yes, his coronation day.” The events that had taken your wedding day came flooding back. “Will you be telling Aemond” 

She nodded, “He should be here soon.” 

Just as the first day he met you, he saw you sitting there. This time by the fire, he watched as the fire had illuminated your face. The way it kissed your features, the way it had made your face glow. Yet this time there was a somber look on your face that you tried to hide with a smile. 

“Hello Husband. We seem to keep meeting this way.” There was an ache in his heart as you went back to calling him Husband. He loved the way you called him by his name. Yet he knew it was his own fault. He had pulled back from you, not because he despised you. But because he despised himself. How could he touch you, not after what he did, not after what he did to his flesh and blood with his own hands. The situation with Aegon was different than Lucerys, with Lucerys it was out of his control. But with Aegon, it was by will. Not only that but for another reason he could not even dare think of it in fear it may come true. 

Alicent could feel the tension, she spoke to try and break it. “Aemond, please sit. I’d like to speak to both of you.” 

He nodded his head and proceeded to sit next to you on the sofa. 

“I was telling Y/n that your coronation day was coming soon. Your grandsire has arranged everything and things have been prepared accordingly. As for your coronation day, we will first check with the maester, but if our assumptions are correct, we will announce the celebration of your first child.” 

You could feel his hard gaze on you as fidgeted with your fingers. Was he mad? Was he upset that you had gotten pregnant so fast? Did he now feel even more tied to you? Did he resent you for this? Like always thoughts had flooded your mind. Without the sight it was impossible to make decisions or to pass judgment on him. You felt vulnerable, you had never felt like this before. You had always been two steps ahead of any suitor or any man in general. But now here you are, a wolf in the den of a dragon. What were you to a dragon? Nothing really. Your sight was all you had to feel in control, and now with it gone you truly felt what other women felt. Powerless. 

“I see.” Aemond had spoken. “Thank you mother. I hope that in time you will be able to guide my lady wife in her responsibilities as the new Queen.” 

She nodded, “Yes of course. And your grandsire will speak to you of your responsibilities as well.” 

“Was there anything else?” 

“No, that was all. You both may take your leave.” Alicent stood up. 

Both you and Aemond had as well, as you all headed towards the door Alicent spoke for the last time, “Congratulations. You both have done well.” You and Aemond nodded. 

Just as you think you both walk in opposite directions Aemond places his hand on your lower back. You look up at him, yet he does not look at you. He began to guide you towards his chambers. When he noticed some maids passing by he asked them to draw a bath in his chambers. They obliged. 

By the time you both had reached the room the bath had already been drawn. He excused the maids. He led you to the front of the tubs, from behind he began to untie your gown. You looked over your shoulder and pulled away. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Stand still.” His voice stern. Yet he continued to speak, “Do you know how idiotic it was to stay in the rain? You could have gotten sick.” 

You spoke lightly, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Clearly.” 

He helped you into the tub after he had removed your dress and let down your hair. As you laid back in the tub he began to wash your hair. 

“The realm can not afford to lose its heir.” 

You had rolled your eyes, “Yes husband, as I am simply a child maker. And my life does not matter.” 

He lightly pulled on your hair causing you to glare back at him. “I wasn’t finished.” He had grabbed your chin lightly so that you wouldn’t look away. “While the realm can not afford it. I could not afford to lose you.”

Your eyes looked away from his, “Oh and is that why you have avoided me for a month?” 

“Yes.” You scoffed at his remark. 

“My uncle is still alive. We killed his children and his wife, what do you think he’d do if he found out I have grown fond of you. That I have a weakness for you, and now our child. He would burn you alive. Cut you in half, torture you, feed you to caraxes. What would I do if that happened?” 

“Kill him and remarry.” 

“You think that coldly of me?”  

“I have heard rumors that you were with a woman before me. What would stop you from doing the same? You are clearly loyal to your mother and if she wished you to remarry for the sake of the realm you would. I am nothing but a pawn in your family's game. I have done my duty and if I die then that is in the fate of the gods.” 

He was taken aback by your willingness to die. He had noticed a shift in your behavior for a while. The past month he had watched you from a distance, always seeing you praying in the godswood. It was all you did, he had to send maids to come and bring you food whenever you noticed you being there for more than an hour. 

“You have the sight. You are not just a pawn. Clearly my grandsire saw it as something.” 

“Yet I do not have the sight! The gods have clearly punished me! I have not had a single vision or dream since I got here. I have nothing, I am nothing.” 

“You are not nothing. You are my wife. You are to be queen.” 

Tears began to well up, “But I can not just be that. My whole life I have been a greenseer. How could I have that taken from me?” 

“Would you like to go back for a few days?” 

“Where?” 

“Home. To Winterfell.” 

“No, it’s too far. Your coronation is soon, riding there would take months.” 

“Not by dragon's back.” 

“Dragon’s back?” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“I’ve never been on a dragon. Let alone see one up close.” You shook your head. 

“It would only be for four days.” 

“Why are you being nice to me?” 

“Were you not listening to me, my lady wife?” He teased. 

“No.” 

“I could never replace you. You are now everything to me” He had leaned in closer. 

He planted a soft kiss on your cheek, “That is why I am being nice.” 

His lips moving closer to your lips. His kisses were intoxicating, no matter if you were angry at him. No matter if he had ignored you. Ever since that day he first kissed you, you had become addicted to it regardless of your feelings. 

“You can’t leave me again. You can’t shut me out. I can’t be here alone. I can’t do this without you.” Your eyes clouded with lust, with caving for his affection. 

“Alright.” He smirked lightly. 

“Promise?” 

He chuckled, “I promise.” 

His lips touched yours. The kiss was sloppy, desperate. You turned around to face him, pulling him closer. Through the kiss you began to help him undress. As he got in the water he pulled you onto his lap. His hands on your waist to hold you up right while your hand drifts down his chest. 

You found his cock already hard, it twitched at your touch. You gripped it tightly causing him to hiss. Your lips leave his as you travel down to his neck. As you suck on his neck you begin to pump his cock causing him to grunt lightly. You looked up at him, seeing his eyes closed as his head leaned back. The look of him like that caused your body to feel on fire. You bit his chest lightly, a groan left his lips. 

Unwilling to wait anymore you aligned him to your cunt. Rubbing him against your lower lips.

“Fuck” His hand moving from your waist to his cock.

But before he could grab himself you stopped his hand. This caused him to open his eyes and look up at you. He watched as you guided his hands from your stomach, passed your breast to reach your throat. That was when you sank down onto his cock, taking all of him. You let out a light moan feeling his warmth. 

He watched as you arched your back and began to move your hips. He lightly squeezed his hand causing your breath to hitch. All he could do was watch, watch as your perfectly shaped tits bounded with the rhythm of you bouncing on his cock. He hadn’t seen you clearly the first time you had sex. But now, he could clearly see you. The candles that surrounded the tub had illuminated you perfectly. The way your hair clung to your neck, the way the water dripped down your face. It made you look ethereal. Too delicate for him to touch, he was afraid that he would break you. 

But your whispers of his name tempted him. He needed more. He sat up, moving you with him. Once he had you both in a comfortable position he lifted you up. He carried you over to the bed. He had placed you on the bed and told you to get in the center. He then told you to turn around and bend over. He watched as you hesitated slightly but then did what he told you to do. Your forearms resting on the bed as your ass stuck up in a position that gave him a view of everything. You felt vulnerable, especially as he had not made a sound. This caused you to look back at him. You just saw him standing there looking at you, his cock just as hard as he had begun to stock it at the sight he was blessed with. 

“Aemond.” You whispered his name again. 

Just with his name he had moved closer to you. You felt the shift in the bed, you felt his hands making their way to your hips once more. His cock aligning with your cunt, he had rubbed himself against you smearing his juices against your wet cunt. It didn’t take long before he filled you up. He groaned at the feeling of your warm cunt, it pulled him in and held onto him tight as he pulled back and forth. 

His pace began to speed up and the sounds of your sweet moans. Each trust is getting harder and hitting the right spots. You felt him pull you back to him, your back against his chest as he continued to fuck you. He moved the hair from your neck, his lips sucking gently on your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine. Your cunt tightening around him more. That last squeeze was enough to tip him over the edge. He came, his cum overflowing out of your cunt as he pulled out. 

He watched as his cum dripped from your cunt to the bed. You felt a shift in the bed again. You felt something between your legs. Before you knew it his lips were against your cunt. He lapped at your dripping cunt. His groan vibrated against your lower lips. 

“You taste so fucking good.” 

You sat up and watched him, his eyes closed as you would grind down on his face. You moaned as you felt his tongue slip between your folds. As you gripped his hair you watched as he opened his eyes. He stared back at you, sucking hard on your clit. You felt a tingling sensation pass through your whole body. Your knees felt weak, Aemond could feel it too. Once you had come down from your high, you got off him. 

Your back now against the bed. You took a moment to collect your thoughts. He was in you just seconds ago but you missed the feeling of him filling you up. But he wouldn’t let you rest, not yet. 

“I’m not done. Not yet. I need you, in every possible way.” Aemond leaned down and kissed your lips as he entered you again. 

Your moans and the sound of the bed creaking could be heard throughout the halls. The whispers of your marriage not being consummated during your period of silence with each other would be silence. 

Morning came quickly, the sun was now shining as the storm had passed. You awoke to the sound of the birds singing and to the feeling of an arm wrapped around you. You opened your eyes and looked down. Aemond had done the decency to cover you both after you had knocked out. But what made your heart flutter was the placement of his hand on your stomach. You didn’t know if he placed his hand there intentionally or just by coincidence. Either way it made you feel secure. Not just for you but for this child.

You placed your hand on his, he was warm. You didn’t understand how he could always be so warm, especially with how cold he looked. You tried to remove his hand to get up but he pulled you back into him. 

“Are you planning to run away so early, wife?” Aemond nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. 

You smiled and turned around in his arms, “No dear husband. I plan on getting ready so that we may go to Winterfell.” 

“Everything is ready. We just need to get out of bed.” Aemond kept his eyes closed and ran his fingers up and down your arm. 

“How do you know it’s all ready? We only spoke of it last night.” 

“Earlier this morning, your maid had come in to wake you. I told her of our plans and asked her to get help setting everything up.” 

“I see.” You paused, “So then why are we still in bed?” 

“Because my dear wife. After all your nagging yesterday, you looked so beautiful sleeping. I could not dare wake you.” 

Aemond opened his eyes to find you glaring at him. He kissed your forehead, “After all that yesterday, you still find ways to upset me?” 

“How could I not?” He smirked before placing a kiss on your lips. 

After an hour or two you both had finally got ready. He had taken you to where Vhagar was, and there you stood. The giant stood before you, the air it had realized from its nose blew your hair slightly. Aemond pulled you closer, he placed your hand on Vhagar. He spoke in High Valyrian, and it seemed to have called the dragon down. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to ride with you?” 

“Yes. You’ll just sit in front of me.” 

The trip was long, but not as long as you had spent in the carriage. You felt the cold breeze hit you. The smell of open air, of the woods you had always remembered. Once Vhagar had landed you were greeted with your fathers men. They were taken by surprise and led you both to your father. You had explained everything to him, and how you would only be there for a bit so that you could be back in time for Aemonds coronation. With that he let you go, but requested an audience with Aemond. There you were taken to the godswood. It felt different, different than the one in the Red Keep. You kneeled in front of the tree and began to pray.

After what felt like hours there had been footsteps behind you. Turning you noticed Aemond heading towards you. You watched as he took in the woods. 

“Beautiful isn't it.” You got up and headed towards him. 

He nodded his head and reached up to touch one of the red leaves, “I didn’t expect it to look exactly like the one back home.” 

“They all look the same. At least that’s what I’ve been told.” 

“Have you finished?” He looked back at you.

You smile at him, “Yes. I feel much better now.” 

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead before turning around to walk back. He stopped when he noticed you weren’t by his side. 

“What is it?” 

“After your coronation. Do you think we could come back?” 

“What for?” 

“Well ever since I was a little girl I always wanted to get married here in the godswoods. And I know we already had our wedding. But-” You looked down at your hands before looking back up at him. “I’d really love to get married to the man I have grown to admire here.” 

Aemond walked back over to you, “If that is what my Queen wants, then I shall give it to her.” 

All you could do was smile at him. Yes your relationship was not ideal, this was not how you had expected it. Especially with him ignoring you, but now, now that you both promised. You both came to an understanding you felt like you could really build something with him. Clearly there was attraction, but you could be more than that. And his openness towards it was all you needed. 

Later in the day at dinner you had felt nauseous and excused yourself to your room. Aemond was going to go with you but you told him to enjoy himself and to keep talking if he wanted to. And he did. He found the environment less hostile as the one back at Kings Landing. Time had passed and without wanting to disturb your sleep, Aemond slept in a separate room. The night had continued yet Aemond could not stop tossing in his sleep. 

He was stuck, as if someone was holding him back. He watched as Daemon pulled you by your hair. You hold your swollen belly to protect your child, your face red and bloody. 

“Nephew, you started this war but I will end it. A wife for a wife.” Daemon pressed the dagger against your cheek, nicking it. 

“Aemond.” Your cries out before all he could hear were your screams. 

Daemon moved the dagger to your eyes, gouging out one after the other. Your tears mixed with the blood that ran down your eyes. Your screams had continued until they had felt real. 

Aemond jolted awake and yet he still heard your screams. His mind scattering, he ran out of the room to find yours. He flung open the door, your screams got louder. He was met with the sight of you, sitting up in bed. Your hands covering your eyes as if you had felt the pain. The pain he had dreamt of. He ran to you and touched your arm. But you had begun to hit him, trying to push him away. 

“Y/n. It’s me. It’s just me.” He waited until you calmed down to see it was really him. He watched as your tears ran down your face. The tears were overflowing, you let out a sob and whispered you were sorry. He shook his head and told you it was fine. 

He had pulled you into him. He had never hugged you so tightly before, he didn’t even know you were capable of that much strength. 

“I had a dream. Your uncle he-” 

“I know. I saw it. You don’t have to say it.” 

Your sobs hadn’t stopped. You both stayed there for more than an hour. Aemond had set you back, and hugged you tightly in hopes to calm you down. It was working, but it did nothing to calm him down. It was all he could think of. Your screams, it made his entire body ache. He was stuck, he felt helpless.

But it was true, he had started this war. He was the cause, he didn’t deserve happiness and his uncle knew it. Just when he found it, just when he found someone who understood him. Daemon would take her from him. He knew if he didn’t find Daemon this would eventually be their fate. It would be your fate. And it killed him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you died. Not after all this. He knew this would not end not while Daemon was still alive. 

[bastardofmothman]

People keep talking about the axe as a symbol of power but what about the victims and Creature healing as symbols of power?

What about the fact that the first murder is of the person with the most power to destroy Lisa's life and what's used isn't an axe?

It's a sewing machine, a symbol of the work Lisa does that Janet discredits, of the person Lisa is that Janet despises, of the solution to the problem of the Creature needing new parts.

The axe doesn't come into play until Lisa decides to take it up to kill another person who felt they had control over her when she was vulnerable. Yes the Creature kills Doug, but Lisa picked him out, Lisa brought Doug to the Creature, Lisa even starts the encounter by telling Doug to touch her like he did at the party so Creature can kill him before he can touch her. Which is definitely a romance fantasy, but it's also, very importantly, a revenge fantasy. And in that revenge Creature becomes one step closer to whole.

AND THEN you see, this is why Micheal must die. It's not actually because he chose Taffy over Lisa, it's what that choice represents, it's why we have to have the "cool stuff" moment. Because this is the revenge fantasy of being told to turn into something else, know less, be less, be less be less belessbeless and getting to tell that person to fuck off, it's why it has to be Michael's dick. Because he represents another type of power people want over you in girlhood, the power to be knowledgeable and interesting to you without needing to put much thought into you being knowledgeable and interesting all while they get something out of you.

Which is also, why Taffy can't die, because as we see at the end, Taffy, for better or worse, is a person who never once threatened Lisa (because even in Micheal's bed, he saw her as a symbol, Lisa saw her as her sister).

Yes Creature is a romance fantasy, a representation of the desire to be loved, a representation of the desire to be understood. But I think the thing that really ties this all back to what the murders represent is that Creature, also represents Lisa.

He represents a true self, and he's horrifying to start, Lisa runs from him, but then she realizes he's not going to hurt her and she opens up, she even wonders why she's talking so much to someone she doesn't know. The Creature becoming more alive happens parallel to her becoming more alive, as those who've had control over her fall away in the wake of her healing (through murder), until he's more alive than she is and he has to care for her the same way she cared for him, like how you have to care for the helpless and hurt person you were even when you're not them anymore.

[followsfrankiep]

Haunted (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Chapter 4 - A Long Night

TW: Violence, Explicit Words, and Smut

Izzy's days at the Shelby Company had become a relentless grind. Polly Gray, ever watchful, had taken a keen interest in her activities. Every report, every meeting, every move Izzy made was scrutinized. Polly's presence was a constant shadow, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Izzy's visits to Camden, once a routine part of her role, were now handled by one of Tommy's men. Her responsibilities had been minimized, and it was clear she was under surveillance.

It started subtly. Polly would drop by Izzy's office more frequently, asking for updates on her work. At first, Izzy didn't mind. She understood the need for oversight, especially given the high stakes of their operations. But as the days went by, Polly's visits became more frequent and intrusive.

"How's the report on the Rum shipment plans coming along, Izzy?" Polly asked one morning, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

Izzy looked up from her desk, forcing a smile. "Almost done. Just need to finalize a few details."

Polly nodded, but her gaze lingered on the papers scattered across Izzy's desk. "Make sure it's thorough. We can't afford any mistakes."

The constant pressure began to take its toll on Izzy. She found herself second-guessing every decision, fearing Polly's disapproval. Her work suffered, and the stress became unbearable. The fact that she has not been able to visit Alfie after they met at the gym, has been worrying her as well.

One evening, as she was finishing up a draft plan, Polly walked in and picked up the document without a word. She scanned it quickly, her expression unreadable.

"There are so many flaws here, Izzy," Polly said, her voice cold. "You need to redo it, unless you want us dead."

Izzy felt a surge of frustration. "I've been working on this for days, Polly. The plan should be thorough and accurate."

Polly's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you hear what I said? Do it again."

Izzy clenched her fists, struggling to keep her composure. "Fine."

The breaking point came a few days later. Izzy was in the middle of a meeting with a supplier when Polly barged in, interrupting the discussion.

"Izzy, I need to speak with you. Now," Polly demanded.

Izzy excused herself and followed Polly into the hallway. "What is it, Polly?"

Polly's eyes were cold and unforgiving. "I reviewed your revised draft. This is unacceptable."

Izzy's frustration boiled over. "I've been working non-stop, Polly. I'm doing my best, but your constant supervision is making it impossible to focus."

Polly's expression softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. "We can't afford any mistakes, Izzy. You need to step up."

Izzy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I understand, but I need some space to do my job. Your constant oversight is making it unbearable."

Polly studied her for a moment before nodding. "We are talking about a huge transaction here. It is your job to make sure everything runs smoothly."

Izzy nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. It has been weeks since Michael left, and Polly has been filling out her son's role. However this time, Polly is the one leading, not Izzy. It made her realize how different Polly is with her son.

One evening, as she was finishing up her work, Izzy overheard a conversation that made her blood run cold. She was passing by Tommy's office when she heard voices—Tommy, Polly, and Arthur. They were discussing a plan to take down the Sabinis once and for all. Izzy pressed herself against the wall, straining to hear every word. She was excluded from the planning, but she made a mental note of everything they said.

Tommy's voice was firm and decisive. "We need to hit the Sabinis hard and fast. No room for mistakes this time."

Polly agreed, her tone equally resolute. "Arthur, you'll lead the charge. Make sure our men are ready."

Arthur's confidence was evident. "Don't worry, Tommy. We'll crush them."

Izzy's heart raced as she listened. She knew this information could be crucial for Alfie. She quietly slipped away, determined to use what she had learned.

The following night, feeling exhausted and frustrated, Izzy decided to unwind at the gym. She was in the middle of her workout when she noticed a familiar figure entering the room. Alfie Solomons, with a grumpy expression, was pointing a gun at her.

"Oi! Where the hell have you been, Izzy? I thought you went AWOL on me," Alfie growled.

Izzy didn't flinch. She calmly took off her gloves and took a sip of water. "Alfie, put the gun down. I'm not going anywhere."

Alfie's eyes narrowed, but he lowered the gun. "Explain yourself."

Izzy sighed, a hint of irritation in her voice. "I have been bustin' my ass at the shithole and it has been a nightmare. Polly's got me under constant surveillance. Every move I make is being watched. They've even reassigned my bakery meetings to one of Tommy's fucking men." she said, wiping off water from her lips.

Alfie's expression softened, and he put the gun back in his pocket. She looked tired, and worn out. "Well... I didn't know.. I thought you betrayed me." he shrugged.

Izzy gave him a warm smile and signalled him to sit on the bench nearby, in which he quietly obliged. A part of her knew that Alfie would have a violent reaction regarding her missing presence. The timing of everything was not right at all so she had to be more understanding of where Alfie's coming from.

Izzy looked deep into his eyes, her voice steady. "I gave you my word, Alfie. I won't break it. But I need your help."

Alfie has always prided himself to be a good judge of character. When he stared at her deep brown eyes, he knew she was a genuine person. At least right now. He nodded, his gaze intense. "What do you need?"

Izzy leaned in, her voice low. "I overheard Tommy, Polly, and Arthur talking about a plan to take down the Sabinis. They're planning an attack, and I think we can use this to our advantage."

Alfie's interest was piqued. "Go on."

Izzy outlined the details she had overheard, explaining the timing and the key players involved. "If we tip off the Sabinis, they can be ready for the attack. It will throw the Peaky Blinders off balance and give us an edge."

Alfie considered her words carefully. "It's risky, but it could work. We need to make sure the Sabinis are prepared and have enough men to counter the attack."

Izzy nodded. "Exactly. We need to coordinate with them and ensure everything goes smoothly."

Alfie agreed, a plan forming in his mind. "I'll meet with Darby Sabini and set things in motion. We'll make sure the Peaky Blinders walk into a trap."

Izzy smiled, her eyes turning into crescents, her cheek dimple appearing. "Thank you, Alfie. I knew I could count on you."

Alfie felt a warmth in his chest as he looked at her. She looked wonderful despite the sweaty and rugged appearance after her boxing. Alfie reached out to the clean towel beside her and wiped the sweat off her face. "I'm sorry for pointing the gun at you, Izzy. I should have trusted you."

Izzy reached out and touched his arm, placing it down. "It's fine. I understand. You don't need to worry about me betraying you."

Alfie watched as she walked away, her figure disappearing into the night. He knew they were taking a huge risk, but he trusted Izzy.

The following days were a whirlwind of preparation. Alfie met with Darby Sabini, who was eager to put a stop to the Peaky Blinders. They reached an agreement, with Alfie becoming an unknown trigger in the plan.

"So, Alfie, you invited the peaky blinders here then somehow, you are here to ask for our help?" Sabini asked, his eyes narrowing with interest.

"Oh is that the way you thank me? You will be dead in a few days if I don't tell you this." Alfie said mockingly, holding his crane.

Sabini's men pulled out their guns and pointed it to Alfie and Ollie, who was sitting beside him. In turn, Alfie's men did the same. They have been at each other's throats for years now. Darby's mockery of dirty fucking jews had always agitated Alfie. But business is business, and this time, Information is a valuable commodity. Thanks to Izzy, he's going to make a fortune.

"Put your guns down. Alfie's here as a friend." Darby Sabini signaled his men which they followed immediately, earning a smug smile from Alfie.

"Yes. Friend." Alfie mockingly nodded to his men, telling them to do the same but still kept their guard up.

"What information do you have, Alfie?" Darby asked.

Alfie scrunched up his nose and shakes his head. "Nah, mate. You know how valuable these things can be. I am just here as an instrument of God. Of course, since you are, as you said, a friend, I would be very much happy for a few thousand pounds."

Darby slammed his palms on the table with a resounding thud, muttering under his breath. "Stronzo." He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he glanced at Alfie who is lying back at his chair, casually caressing his beard. "Okay, Alfie. Ten thousand pounds for your valuable information." he said, gritting his teeth.

Alfie's negotiation skills are topnotch. He leaned casually against the wall, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Oh, you see, friend... It is customary for business if you pay upfront, especially for the priceless commodities.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, eyes glinting with amusement.

The Italian man nodded to his right hand man to give Ollie the cash, upon receiving the payment, Ollie gave Alfie his confirmation. Darby leaned forward, his curiosity piqued and a hint of apprehension creasing his brow.

"Tommy's planning an attack on your territory. You need to be ready for them. I'll provide the details, and you make sure your men are prepared," Alfie explained.

"And what's in it for you?" Sabini inquired, his tone cautious. Everyone knew that Alfie Solomons would not give a shit to their war if it wouldn't benefit him or his business.

"Taking down the Peakys weakens Tommy's grip on the city. It's in both our interests," Alfie replied confidently.

"Fair enough. We'll be ready," Sabini agreed, a determined look on his face.

Alfie provided Sabini with the information Izzy had gathered, ensuring that the Sabinis would have the upper hand. They coordinated their efforts, making sure every detail was covered.

-

On the day of the attack, Izzy was at the office, working under Polly's watchful eye. Arthur and his men set out to execute the plan, confident in their numbers and strategy. But when they arrived at the Sabinis' stronghold, they were met with more resistance than expected.

The Sabinis had fortified their position, and their men outnumbered Arthur's. A fierce battle ensued, and Arthur was knocked unconscious in the chaos. The police, tipped off by an anonymous source, arrived on the scene and arrested Arthur, locking him up.

Arthur, disoriented and furious, shouted, "What the fuck is going on? We were supposed to have the upper hand!" From behind, a blow hit his head, resulting to Arthur losing his consciousness.

One of Sabini's men smirked. "Looks like you underestimated us, mate."

The news reached Polly quickly, and she was furious. The plan had backfired spectacularly, and now Arthur was in police custody. Izzy, meanwhile, continued her work, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. The first part of their plan had succeeded, and she knew there was more to come.

The clock ticked ominously on the wall as Polly entered the dimly lit office. Tommy sat behind a massive oak desk, the shadows casting a menacing aura over his stern face. Polly swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the impending conversation heavy in her gut.

“They got Arthur. ” Polly started, her voice low and tense. She could feel her pulse quicken, each beat a deafening drum in her ears.

Tommy looked up and his eyes narrowed, his gaze cold and unyielding. “What? How?”

“The fucking plan backfired, Tommy.” she paused, taking a deep breath, “he's been taken into police custody. They framed him with the murder of our men.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Tommy's expression remained unreadable, his steely eyes boring into the papers in front of him.

Polly raised the boys like her own, and this situation angered her. "Tommy, we need to get Arthur out of there. This is a disaster."

Tommy's expression was grim. "We'll handle it, Polly."

Izzy kept her head down, knowing that the real game was just beginning.

The news of Arthur's arrest and the heavy losses suffered by their men prompted Tommy to call an urgent family meeting. The atmosphere in the room was tense as the Shelby family gathered around the table.

Tommy addressed the group, his voice steady but filled with underlying tension. "We have a problem. Arthur's been arrested, and most of our men are dead. We'll get him out, but first, we need to secure our position. We can't afford any more mistakes."

Izzy listened intently, her mind racing. She knew she had to be careful. Any slip-up could expose her involvement with Alfie.

Tommy continued, his tone commanding. "Polly, I want you to tighten security. No one gets in or out without our knowledge. Lizzy, you'll take over the management of the office. Izzy, you'll handle your usual operations again, including your Camden meetings with Alfie."

As he turned to leave, Tommy turned his face to Izzy. “And Izzy, remember—no loose ends.”

Izzy nodded, feeling the weight of those final words settle heavily on her shoulders, feeling a chill run down her spine. She knew the stakes were higher than ever. But she also knew that with Alfie's help, she had a chance to turn the tide in their favor.

-

Her fingers brushed the edge of the bedsheets as the hotel phone rang unexpectedly, breaking the heavy silence. She hesitated, her heart pounding, before lifting the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Izzy, it’s Michael.” His voice was soft, almost tender, but it sent a shiver down her spine. She forced herself to take a steady breath, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

“Michael… Hi.” She tried to infuse warmth into her voice, knowing that she had to play her part convincingly.

“I got the news... about Arthur,” Michael said, his voice tinged with concern. “I couldn't stop thinking about you. How have you been holding up?”

Izzy clenched the phone tighter, her eyes flickering to the suitcase on the bed, half-packed with essentials. Forced to balance the tightrope of emotions, she tried to keep her voice steady. “It’s been… difficult. I didn't expect it to happen so suddenly.”

“I miss you, Izzy,” Michael admitted, a hint of longing in his tone. “It’s just not the same without you. I’ll come home sooner. We’ll get through this together.”

Home. The word felt foreign to her now, disconnected from the affection Michael was desperately trying to offer. It was becoming harder to pretend as each day passed. But she forced a small, strained smile. “I’ve missed you too, Michael. Your support means everything to me right now.”

Unexpected guilt gnawed at her; despite the absence of true love for Michael, some part of her didn't want to hurt him. She felt trapped in a maze of obligations and deceptions.

“Izzy,” Michael’s voice softened, overflowing with affection, “I know it’s been tough. But you’re strong, and we’ll find a way out of this mess. I just want to hold you, tell you everything will be okay.”

Izzy’s throat tightened, and she forced herself to respond. “I want that too, Michael. I really do. We need each other more than ever.”

“Take care, Izzy. I’ll see you soon,” Michael said softly, his words lingering like a bittersweet melody. She could feel his love radiating through the line, only making the charade more painful.

“Goodbye, Michael,” she whispered, hanging up the phone with a heavy heart.

As the line went dead, Izzy turned her attention back to her suitcase. She resumed packing, her mind replaying the events of the evening.

Earlier that night, the gym had been dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline. Alfie's words echoed in her mind. “That whole place is owned by Tommy. He’s got every line tapped, every call reported to him. Be careful.”

Izzy’s hands shook slightly as she folded her clothes, the gravity of Alfie's warning sinking in. She had to be careful, every move meticulously planned. There was no room for error. She couldn’t trust anyone—especially not under these circumstances.

The cold, hard reality of her situation weighed heavy on her chest. She needed to find a way out, and soon. The stakes were too high, and the walls seemed to close in tighter with each passing moment.

The morning light filtered through the dusty windows of the flat Izzy had found on short notice. Over night, she moved cautiously, the feeling of being followed still prickling at the back of her neck. Each creak of the floorboards made her heart race. She meticulously arranged her belongings, trying to make the sparse apartment look like home, though her mind was far from at ease.

-

Fast forward to later that day, Izzy found herself slipping into the familiar scents of Alfie's rum distillery. The heady mix of molasses and spices gave the place an air of dangerous comfort. As she entered, Ollie approached her with a look of genuine concern.

“Izzy, you alright? You look like you’ve run through hell and back,” Ollie said, his brow furrowed.

Izzy brushed him off with a tired wave of her hand. “I’m fine, Ollie. Just need to see Alfie.”

Ollie nodded, though his worry lingered in his eyes as she made her way to Alfie’s office. She pushed the door open to find him sitting at his desk, a familiar look of mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Oi, look what the cat dragged in,” Alfie mocked playfully, his rough voice filled with a mix of sarcasm and amusement. He took in her appearance, the bags under her eyes and the weariness etched on her face. “You look like you’ve been run over by one of them bloody trams.”

Izzy managed a weak smile, dropping onto the worn leather sofa with a grunt. “Thanks for the compliment, Alfie. I’ve had a hell of a night, moving into a new place and trying to do it under the cover of darkness so Tommy’s men wouldn’t spot me.”

Alfie leaned back in his chair, a wry grin spreading across his face. “Ah, Izzy, always the drama, eh? You know, you’ve got that knack for making life a bit too interesting.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s this about a new place then? And being followed, you say?”

Izzy sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, I couldn’t stay at that hotel any longer. Not with everything going on. I felt like I was being watched constantly. Found a flat, but had to move everything during the night. Didn’t sleep a wink.”

Despite her fatigue, she noticed a glimmer of sly amusement in Alfie’s eyes. “Well, love, you did a stellar job of looking absolutely knackered. But listen, you’re smart, Izzy. If anyone can outmaneuver Tommy’s lot, it’s you.”

Izzy looked at him, grateful for the strange blend of teasing and support that only Alfie could provide. “I just hope you’re right.”

Alfie chuckled, a sound that was both comforting and unsettling. “Well, darling, if you keep running on empty like that, you’re bound to hit a wall. Take a breather when you can. This game’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

Izzy leaned back, her body heavy with exhaustion, but her resolve steadfast. “Thanks, Alfie. You know, for everything.”

“Well, now, don’t go getting all sentimental on me,” Alfie teased, though his tone held a hint of genuine concern. “You know, you keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you’ve got a bit of a crush.” He winked, his playful flirtation something Izzy had grown accustomed to.

She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Alfie, you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me, love. I might just take you up on that,” Alfie replied with a grin. His demeanor shifted slightly, more serious now. “But seriously, you need to get some rest.”

Izzy’s eyelids felt heavy, her exhaustion almost palpable. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Just a little nap wouldn’t hurt.”

As Alfie kept yapping about plans and strategies, Izzy’s head nodded slowly, her eyes struggling to stay open. Gradually, she leaned back on the couch, her breathing steadying as she drifted off to sleep. Alfie continued to talk, only to realize she had fallen asleep.

For a moment, Alfie was stunned. No one had ever dared to fall asleep in his office before. His initial annoyance was quickly replaced by a rare, genuine fondness as he gazed at her sleeping face.

“Ollie!” Alfie bellowed, startling Ollie as he rushed into the office.

“Yes, boss?”

“Get a pillow, would ya? And a blanket too,” Alfie ordered gruffly.

Ollie returned a moment later, looking flustered. “There’s no pillow in the distillery, Alfie.”

Alfie barked sarcastically, “Well, then, improvise! And find a bloody blanket while you’re at it.”

Ollie scurried off, leaving Alfie to watch over Izzy. Glancing at her peaceful face, he muttered to himself, “What am I gonna do with you, love?”

Once Ollie returned with whatever he could gather, Alfie carried Izzy carefully, positioning her properly on the sofa, ensuring she was comfortable. He chuckled softly, noting how heavy a sleeper she was, not waking up with all the movement. He placed a pillow under her head and covered her with a blanket.

Alfie sat back in his office chair and stared at her serene face, allowing his mind to wander back to the first time they met. The dim, flickering lights of the underground had cast shadows on her determined face as she walked into his life, fearless and fierce. He had been haunted by that moment ever since, recognizing a kindred spirit in her defiance and strength.

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t bear to wake her. “Guess we’re both sleeping in the office tonight,” Alfie murmured, a rare tenderness in his voice. He settled into his chair, keeping a watchful eye over her, as the underground world around them continued to churn.

The morning light streamed into Alfie's office, casting a warm glow on Izzy as she slowly stirred awake. She blinked groggily, momentarily confused by her surroundings. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she sat up abruptly, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. She had fallen asleep in Alfie's office, of all places.

Izzy noticed the pillow under her head and the blanket draped over her body. Her mind raced, and she wondered if Alfie had been the one to bring them for her. The thought brought a mix of gratitude and mortification.

Scanning the office, she realized Alfie was nowhere to be found. Glancing at the clock, it was barely 6 a.m. She heard Alfie's unmistakable voice barking orders at his men in the bakery below.

She quickly fixed herself, straightening her wrinkled clothes and running a hand through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside the office, where Ollie noticed her and subtly gestured to Alfie that she was up.

Alfie turned his attention to her as she descended the stairs, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Ah, there she is! Well, look at that, those bags under your eyes have vanished, love. Quite the miracle, eh?”

Izzy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks for the observation, Alfie. And here I thought I’d be dragging them around forever.”

As they exchanged banter, Izzy noticed that Alfie was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “Did you stay with me through the night, Alfie?”

Alfie’s demeanor shifted slightly, guilt flickering in his eyes before he brushed it off with a casual shrug. “Well, someone had to keep an eye on you, didn’t they? Don’t go getting any ideas, though.”

Izzy chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Thanks, Alfie. By the way, what’s with barking at your workers for being late when it’s only 6 a.m.? Isn’t that a tad early, even for you?”

Alfie’s expression turned mockingly stern. “Watch it, darling. Old men like me have a reputation to maintain.”

Izzy laughed, earning a playful grin from Alfie. Her smile was a rare sight, something that warmed Alfie’s often cold and calculating heart. He was taken aback by her ease and genuine nature, feeling a strange sense of attachment he hadn’t known in years.

Izzy’s presence always had this disarming effect on him, one that made him feel vulnerable yet captivated. Beneath his tough exterior, he recognized a longing to be around her more, to bask in the warmth her genuine nature brought into his life. It was an unfamiliar and unsettling feeling, one he couldn’t quite place or understand.

The scent of molasses and spices filled the air as Izzy and Alfie stood amidst rows of rum barrels in the dimly lit distillery. The atmosphere was warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the tension that often surrounded their dealings.

Alfie leaned against one of the barrels, his piercing eyes fixed on Izzy. “So, love, how are things progressing with our little operation against the Shelbys?” he asked, his voice laced with that familiar mix of sarcasm and sincerity.

Izzy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a thoughtful expression on her face. “It’s going well, Alfie. The rum is being prepped for shipment, and the logistics are all in place. We’re on track to send the first batch to the U.S. soon.”

Alfie’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s what I like to hear, love. When do you reckon you’ll be visiting us in Camden again to finalize things?”

Izzy considered his question carefully, her hands resting on the edge of a barrel. “Probably in a day or two. With Arthur arrested, Tommy and Polly are all wrapped up in trying to bail him out and dealing with the authorities they can bribe. I’ve been reinstated in their daily operations, so I’ll need to be here.”

Alfie observed her closely, his mind racing through the implications. Though he wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself, the thought of not seeing her for a day or two left a strange void in his chest. He’d have to keep himself fully occupied to manage. “Well, love, I suppose I can survive a couple of days without you. Maybe.” He sounded sarcastic, maybe not? He was used to being not-so-subtle with Izzy.

She chuckled softly, her eyes meeting his. “I'll make it up to you, Alfie. We’ll get this rum shipped, make a fortune, and maybe you can even show me around London when we’re done.”

Alfie’s chuckle joined hers, a rare moment of genuine warmth. “Oh, Izzy, you really do know how to sweet-talk an old man.”

As Izzy listened to Alfie speak, her mind wandered to their secret alliance. She had always been cautious about working with him, knowing his reputation. The dim light of the distillery cast shifting shadows on his rugged face, and she couldn’t help but feel a mix of uncertainty and intrigue. But this morning, she knew he’d taken care of her —bringing her a pillow and blanket, making sure she slept and rested well—she caught a rare glimpse of genuine kindness beneath his gruff exterior. It was a strange, unsettling realization. She watched him as he spoke, his animated gestures and sharp wit captivating, yet her guard remained slightly raised, wondering if she could truly trust the man who managed to both infuriate and protect her.

Since the tension had eased, and they were both in high spirits, she asked a question that had been nagging at her thoughts. “Alfie, what do you think about me visiting Arthur in jail?" A part of her having a hard time to sleep was the thought of being a part of something that harmed Arthur. They were not close friends but the man was one of the kinder people within that company. She cannot help but to feel guilty considering they were secretly instrumental in his arrest.

Alfie leaned back, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “It’s actually a bloody good idea, love. The Shelbys won’t suspect anything if you go see Arthur." As always, she was three steps ahead. That move might even throw the Shelbys off the fact that Izzy was the one who tipped off their enemies. He gave her a knowing look. “Just be careful, yeah?”

Izzy nodded, her resolve strengthening. “You’re right. It’ll help keep suspicions at bay. I’ll make sure to visit him soon.”

Alfie’s admiration for her grew. She handled herself with such grace and determination, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Though his mind was often filled with strategies and cunning plans, thoughts of Izzy had begun to sneak in, bringing a strange but welcome warmth.

He snapped back to reality when Izzy bid him goodbye. “I need to get home and prepare for work. Thanks for letting me stay, Alfie.”

As they prepared to part ways, Alfie teased, “Just remember, love, try not to fall asleep in random places again. I’m not always going to be there with a pillow and blanket.”

Izzy laughed, the sound like a soothing melody to Alfie’s ears. “I’ll see you in a day or two.”

The young woman left the distillery, her laughter echoing softly behind her, Alfie's gaze lingered on her retreating figure. He felt a strange longing, a desire to stay with her longer, even though he knew it wasn’t practical. Her presence brought a rare sense of warmth, something that had become increasingly precious to him.

He had to keep himself busy to distract from the absence he felt when she was gone. Turning back to his men, he barked orders once more, his gruff exterior firmly back in place. But in the quiet moments, thoughts of Izzy always found their way back to him.

Ollie silently observed their interaction, shaking his head with a knowing smile. He saw what was happening, even if Alfie didn’t yet fully recognize it himself. A young woman had captivated the gruff and tough boss, and it was a sight to behold.

-

The prison visiting area was a somber, cold place. The sterile gray walls were lined with rows of metal chairs and small tables, separated by glass partitions. The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a harsh glare on the faces of those who sat waiting for their loved ones. Izzy felt a chill as she stepped through the door, her footsteps echoing on the hard concrete floor.

She walked over to the assigned booth, the tension in her shoulders palpable. Moments later, the door at the far end of the room creaked open, and Arthur Shelby was led in by a guard. Even in his prison garb, Arthur carried himself with that unmistakable mix of anger and defiance that defined him. His eyes were fiery, and his jaw was set in a hard line. He looked every bit the fierce Peaky Blinder, despite the circumstances.

Arthur slumped into the chair opposite Izzy, his eyes narrowing as he took her in. “Izzy,” he greeted her gruffly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and suspicion. “How are ya holdin’ up?”

Izzy forced a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m managing, Arthur. But I’m more concerned about you. How are you holding up? How are you feeling?”

Arthur’s expression darkened, his fists clenching on the table. “How do ya think I feel, eh? Bloody furious, that’s what! Can’t believe I got caught up in this mess.”

She nodded, understanding his frustration. “I know, Arthur. It’s a tough situation. But Tommy and Polly are doing everything they can to get you out of here. They’re working tirelessly, pulling every string they can.”

Arthur’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, Izzy. Appreciate you stoppin’ by. Takes guts to come here, especially with everything goin’ on.” He paused, then added with a hint of melancholy, “Michael’s a lucky man to have you, y’know that?”

Izzy’s heart tightened with guilt. Arthur’s words struck a chord, reminding her of the facade she had to keep up. Her feelings for Michael weren’t as genuine as they seemed, and the weight of that deception bore down on her. But she kept her expression neutral, nodding slightly. “Thanks, Arthur. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing again. “So, how’s the dispatch of rum goin’? Alfie givin’ you a hard time?”

Izzy chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Nothing I can’t handle. The shipment’s on track, and we’re making good progress.”

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, his anger slightly diminishing as the conversation continued. “Y’know, sometimes I feel like I’m the only one Tommy counts on, especially after John, our younger brother, died. I feel useless in here, not bein’ able to help with our operations. It eats me up inside.”

Izzy’s eyes softened with empathy and strategy as she listened genuinely to Arthur’s pain. Taming Arthur, a known wild dog, would be incredibly beneficial for her in the future. She needed more allies within the company to ease the possible complications with her plans. Arthur was known for his ride-or-die loyalty to Tommy, and Izzy knew she would need that kind of unwavering support as well. “You’re not useless, Arthur. You’re important to this family, and everyone knows it. We’ll get you out of here, and things will get back on track.”

Arthur’s expression lightened slightly as he found comfort in her words. “Thanks, Izzy. It means a lot to have someone listen.”

Izzy’s heart ached with guilt, knowing she played a part in his arrest. She masked her feelings, not wanting to get caught. “I’m always here for you, Arthur. It’s tough for everyone right now.”

Arthur’s eyes met hers, appreciating the sincerity in her tone. “Must be hard for you too, with Polly bein’ tough on ya lately.”

Izzy nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. “Yeah, Polly’s been a bit harsh, but I understand why. There’s a lot on her shoulders.”

Arthur reached across the table, his hand gripping hers in a rare display of affection. “You’re strong, Izzy. You’ll get through this. And once I’m out, I’ll make sure Polly eases up on ya.”

Izzy blinked back tears, grateful for his support. Her mind raced with conflicted emotions. On one hand, she was relieved Arthur had taken her bait once again. The promise to handle Polly meant she wouldn’t have to deal with the older Shelby’s harshness once Arthur was released. But on the other hand, the guilt of manipulating him gnawed at her conscience. She wouldn’t let it show, maintaining her empathetic facade. “Thanks, Arthur. That means a lot.”

Arthur leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Y’know, this jail visit has been the highlight of my week.” He let out a small chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing.

Izzy managed a genuine smile, her heart lightening as they shared this moment of understanding. She knew the road ahead was fraught with danger, but for now, she was content knowing she had earned Arthur’s trust and affection.

-

The clang of machinery and the chatter of workers filled the air around the offices of the Shelby Company Limited. It was another hectic day at work, with deadlines looming and endless tasks demanding Izzy's attention. She moved with purpose, her mind already sifting through the day's list of priorities.

As she reviewed shipping manifests and coordinated with the foremen, her thoughts drifted to her dear friend Sophia, who she had left behind in Brooklyn. Sophia had always been her confidante and partner in crime, and the guilt of leaving her alone weighed heavily on Izzy's heart. She wondered how Sophia was managing, hoping that she was safe and well.

The Shelby Company Limited’s headquarters were busy with activity. The imposing brick building, located in the heart of Birmingham, buzzed with the hum of productivity. Elaborate beams and iron structures gave the place a rugged, industrial charm, fitting for the hardened spirits that ran the company.

Around midday, Izzy felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find one of Tommy's men, who informed her that Tommy Shelby wanted to see her in his office. She nodded, setting aside her work and making her way to the upper floors.

As she entered, Tommy Shelby sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, the room filled with the scent of cigars and ink. The soft glow of lamplight bathed the room, illuminating the stacks of files and dossiers scattered across his desk. This office was where the gears of their empire turned, and Tommy’s serious demeanor hinted at the gravity of the tasks awaiting Izzy.

"Ah, Izzy," Tommy greeted her, motioning for her to take a seat. "I need your help with something. Parliament work has been piling up, and I need an extra pair of eyes to review these files."

Izzy's brow furrowed slightly as she took the seat, her mind racing with questions. Why was Tommy asking her, of all people, to handle such important work? She hesitated, feeling a mix of anxiety and curiosity. "Are you sure, Tommy? I mean, isn't this something you would usually handle yourself?"

Tommy handed her a stack of files, his expression serious. "These are reports and proposals related to housing reforms and industrial regulations. I need you to comb through them, identify any potential issues, and note anything that requires our immediate attention."

Izzy nodded hesitantly as she began to read through the documents. Her keen eye for detail quickly spotting inconsistencies and areas of concern. As she worked, looking up, Tommy’s gaze remained, a mix of appreciation and trust.

"You've got a sharp mind, Izzy," Tommy remarked, his voice steady. "I knew I could count on you to handle this."

Izzy glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. But her mind was still clouded with doubt. "Thank you, Tommy. I'm glad to be of help. Is there anything specific you're worried about with these files?"

Tommy leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "There are always people looking to exploit weaknesses in the system. We need to stay ahead of them, ensure that our interests and those of Birmingham are protected.”

Izzy nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. As she continued to review the files, her mind occasionally wandered back to Sophia and the world she had left behind in Brooklyn. But for now, her focus was on the work at hand and the trust that Tommy had placed in her.

Hours passed as they worked together, a sense of camaraderie forming between them. Izzy's diligence and attention to detail impressed Tommy, and he felt more confident knowing she was on his side.

As the day came to a close, Izzy gathered the files and handed them back to Tommy. "I've noted all the key points and potential issues. Let me know if there's anything else you need."

Tommy nodded, a rare smile of gratitude crossing his face. "Thanks, Izzy. You've been a tremendous help today."

Izzy stood, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with lingering uncertainty. "Anytime, Tommy. I'll see you tomorrow."

The days at the Shelby Company Limited quickly turned into a whirlwind of activity for Izzy. With the added responsibility of helping Tommy with his parliament work, her workload had increased significantly. The promise she had made to Alfie about visiting within a day or two had already stretched into a week without her realizing it.

Izzy found herself constantly going back and forth between the Shelby Company headquarters and Tommy's office in the parliament building. The parliament work involved reviewing documents related to housing reforms, industrial regulations, and various proposals that required a keen eye and sharp mind. She meticulously combed through the files, identifying potential issues and ensuring that Tommy's interests were safeguarded.

In addition to the parliament work, Izzy had to coordinate the upcoming shipment of Alfie's rum to the U.S through Tommy's men. The added security measures meant extra scrutiny on logistical details, securing transport routes, and ensuring their plans would go off without a hitch. She barely had time to catch her breath as she juggled multiple tasks, her mind always racing with the next item on her to-do list.

Her office phone rang frequently, with Michael calling from time to time to check in and discuss business matters. Each conversation was brief, as Izzy barely had time to address his questions. "Hey, Michael," she answered one call, her voice strained with exhaustion. "What’s the issue now?"

Michael’s voice crackled on the line, filled with frustration. “We’ve got a shipment delay here. Customs is holding up the cargo.”

Izzy sighed, rubbing her temple. “Alright, listen, Michael. Have you tried reaching out to our contact in customs? Sometimes it’s just a matter of a small ‘incentive’ to get things moving.”

“Yeah, I’ll give it a shot. Thanks, Izzy,” Michael replied, his tone lightening with hope.

As the days passed, Izzy found herself barely managing to keep everything in line. There were moments when she would stare blankly at the papers in front of her, exhaustion clouding her vision. Her visits to the boxing gym had become nonexistent, and she would often go straight home to rest after a long day’s work.

Every spare moment she had, her thoughts drifted back to Alfie, and the promise she had made. The guilt of not visiting him weighed heavily on her, but there simply wasn’t enough time in the day to manage all her responsibilities.

One evening, as she trudged home, her body feeling like lead, Izzy caught a glance of herself in a shop window. The reflection staring back at her looked worn out and weary, a far cry from the determined woman she prided herself on being.

At home, she collapsed onto her bed, not bothering to change out of her work clothes. The weight of the day’s tasks pressed down on her, but her mind refused to stop racing. She wondered how long she could keep up this relentless pace, juggling her commitments to Tommy, Alfie, and their secret operations.

-

Alfie Solomons sat alone in his office at the rum distillery, his mind restless. He had been looking forward to Izzy’s visit, the promise of seeing her again lingering in his thoughts. But days had turned into a week, and still, she hadn’t shown up. A strange mix of disappointment and irritation gnawed at him, feelings he wasn’t accustomed to.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the intricate patterns of the wood ceiling. Alfie was a man of action, not one to sit idly by. The more time passed, the more his curiosity and concern grew. Something must be keeping her busy, he reasoned, but it didn’t quell the unease he felt.

Unable to shake the feeling, he had discreetly arranged for one of his men to follow Izzy again and keep tabs on her. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; he just needed to know she was safe and what was keeping her from their plans.

As the days dragged on, Alfie’s irritation grew. He summoned one of his most trusted men, a burly figure with a stern face, into his office. The man, loyal and efficient, had been keeping a close eye on Izzy’s daily activities.

“Right, what’s the update on our dear Izzy?” Alfie asked, his tone a blend of casual curiosity and underlying concern.

The man stepped forward, nodding respectfully. “Boss, she’s been working nonstop, running between the Shelby Company offices and Tommy’s parliament office. From what I can tell, she’s been dealing with a mountain of paperwork and has barely had any time for herself.”

Alfie silently absorbed the information, a flicker of annoyance tempered with understanding crossing his features. “And ‘eems like she's avoiding me, yeah? Been bloody ages since we last talked.”

The man hesitated before continuing, “Not avoiding you, boss. Just heavily swamped with work. I’ve seen her go straight home some nights, completely exhausted. She’s got a lot on her plate.”

Alfie’s gaze softened slightly as he leaned back in his chair. The thought of Izzy pushing herself to the brink concerned him more than he wanted to admit. “Right, well, you keep watchin’ her. Let me know if anything changes.”

The man nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. “Will do, boss.”

As the man left the room, Alfie sat in contemplative silence. Izzy’s absence had left an unexpected gap in his daily routine. He admired her dedication and resilience, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of longing—a desire for her company and the warmth she brought into his life. That was something Alfie wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge, even to himself.

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to stay busy to keep his mind off things. The rum distillery needed overseeing, there were deals to be made, and additional barrels to execute. But in the quiet moments, thoughts of Izzy continued to creep back in, bringing with them a mix of frustration and undeniable admiration.

-

Days turned into a blur for Izzy at the Shelby Company Limited. The relentless pile of parliament work and her responsibilities with the rum shipment overburdened her mind. Frustration bubbled inside her as she often found herself drifting away from the real reasons she was tangled up in this world.

Her friends, Esme and Lizzy, noticed the strain on Izzy’s face. One afternoon, they made their way to Izzy and Michael’s office, determined to convince her to unwind. They found her balancing stacks of papers and the buzzing phone.

“Girls’ night out,” Esme declared, leaning against the doorframe. “No excuses.”

Lizzy nodded in agreement, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “We all need a break, Izzy. It’s non-negotiable.”

Izzy sighed, her resolve weakening. “Fine, I could use the distraction,” she admitted, setting the papers aside.

That evening, they headed to a beloved Birmingham pub, one protected by the Peaky Blinders. The air was filled with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. Izzy had dressed the part, donning a sleek, flapper-style dress characteristic of the 1920s, complete with high heels that added a daring flair to her appearance.

Inside, the smell of ale and the crackling fire created a cozy atmosphere as they settled into a corner booth. Drinks were swiftly ordered, and the conversation flowed.

“Tommy’s been driving me mad with all this parliament work,” Izzy ranted to Lizzy, frustration evident in her voice. “Why doesn’t he let you handle some of it?”

Lizzy shrugged, a teasing smile on her face. “He’s got his reasons. Besides, our relationship isn’t like that. He knows I’ve got my hands full elsewhere.”

Oh we know what that is.

Esme chimed in, her laugh infectious, “Plus, anyone not wearing the family name never catches a break around here, huh?”

They bonded over drinks, their spirits lifting with each glass. For once, there were no scheming men, no secret agendas, and no impending threats—just her and her girls, treasuring the rare night of fun.

The night eventually wound down, and Esme and Lizzy were escorted back to the car for their trip home. Living near each other, their return was seamless. Izzy, on the other hand, was dropped off at the hotel where they assumed she still lived. Feeling a sense of invincible freedom, Izzy decided to walk home, the cool night air caressing her face as she strolled, the threat that had been shadowing her slipping from her drunk mind.

One of Alfie’s men, still on her trail, quickly reported her wander to a subordinate. The midnight distillery operations buzzed around Alfie as he cursed under his breath upon hearing the news. Without hesitation, he made his way to her.

Izzy, wobbling in her heels, reveled in the wind's breeze. Her feet ached, prompting her to sit down on a nearby waiting shed, appreciating the brief respite. Just as she considered napping right there, a car honked, jolting her awake.

“Oi! Sleeping in odd places again, are we?” Alfie called out, his voice a mix of sarcasm and concern. Izzy blinked, momentarily believing she was hallucinating.

"Jesus Christ." he cursed softly again, stepping out of the car and instructing his driver to wait. As he approached, the stench of alcohol hit him. Despite her mature mind, she was still so young and wild.

Recognizing him, Izzy beamed, stumbling towards him in an embrace. “Alfie! Finally,” she cheered, her voice slurred but filled with joy. She paid no mind to how he’d found her.

Alfie held her steady, speaking softly, “Missed our meetin’, did ya? What’ve you been up to?”

Izzy drunkenly rambled about her workload, the parliament files, the stress, albeit her words were jumbled. She felt light and unburdened, finding comfort in Alfie’s presence.

Nodding, Alfie guided her into the car. “We’ll get you home, love. Enough of such mischief for one night.”

In the car, the combination of the evening’s events and the warm vehicle air made her feel hot. She shrugged off her coat, revealing a body-hugging dress that caught Alfie's eye for a brief moment before he looked away, a mix of amusement and chastisement in his thoughts.

As the car rolled towards her flat, Izzy’s head rested against the car seat, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Meanwhile, Alfie’s mind wandered to the unpredictable and sometimes exasperating nature of this young woman who had somehow become a significant part of his complex world.

Alfie couldn’t help but shake his head, a mix of concern and curiosity. “What were you thinkin’, gettin’ drunk like that?”

Izzy, still riding the wave of intoxication, giggled softly. “Alfie, it’s the weekend tomorrow,” she slurred, a playful smirk on her lips. “Needed to unwind, y’know? All this stress... couldn’t take it anymore.”

Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the combination of alcohol and the heated car causing her to breathe heavily. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, catching Alfie’s attention and fighting his manly urges himself.

Alfie huffed, his voice a mix of frustration and amusement. “Well, love, you certainly know how to unwind. Just don’t make a habit of it, alright?”

Izzy nodded lazily, her eyes half-closed. “Promise, Alfie. Just this once...”

He watched her, a rare moment of vulnerability in his otherwise guarded demeanor. The sight of her relaxed, albeit drunken, state brought a strange sense of protectiveness over him. As the car continued its journey, Alfie kept a watchful eye on Izzy, his mind a mix of admiration and exasperation.

Instructing his driver, he muttered under his breath, “Just get her home safe.”

Throughout the ride, Alfie’s thoughts lingered on Izzy. As the car pulled up in front of Izzy’s flat, Alfie carefully helped her out, Izzy's arm wrapped around his waist for support. He fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock the door while balancing her weight. After a brief struggle, he finally managed to get the door open.

“In we go, love,” Alfie muttered, guiding her inside.

Izzy giggled, leaning heavily against him. “Thanks, Alfie,” she slurred, her words barely coherent.

Alfie instructed his driver to go home, deciding it was best to stay and make sure Izzy didn't pass out in a precarious state. “Alright, you can head off. I’ll handle it from 'er,” he said, his tone begrudging but resolute.

Inside her flat, Alfie guided Izzy to the living room, gently lowering her onto the couch. “Stay put, alright? I’ll get you some water,” he instructed, heading to the kitchen to fetch a glass.

Izzy’s head lolled to the side, a dreamy smile on her face. “Alfie, you’re too good to me,” she mumbled.

He returned with the water, sitting beside her and holding the glass to her lips. “Drink up, love. You’ll thank me in the mornin’.”

She drank obediently, her eyes flickering with gratitude. “You really didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured, her voice softening.

Seeing her in this vulnerable state, Alfie felt a mix of frustration and tenderness. He cursed under his breath again, knowing it would indeed be a long night. But as he watched over her, ensuring she was comfortable, he couldn’t shake the feeling of protectiveness that had taken hold.

They found their way to her bed room. As Izzy lay on the bed, she suddenly stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Can’t sleep in this,” she mumbled, her words slurred. She wobbled to her feet, making her way to the closet.

Alfie watched, a mix of curiosity and concern etched on his face. “Izzy, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.

She giggled, rummaging through her closet. “Need my nightwear,” she replied, her movements unsteady. Without a second thought, she began to take off her dress, much to Alfie’s surprise.

“Bloody hell,” Alfie muttered under his breath, caught off guard by the sudden display. He turned his gaze away, fighting the temptation to look.

Izzy, now standing in her matching black lingerie, continued to search for her nightwear. The sight of her in such a vulnerable state made Alfie curse again, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. She fumbled with her nightgown, Alfie stepped forward to help her, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. He handed her the nightgown, trying to maintain his composure. “Here, love. Let’s get you sorted.”

Izzy took the nightgown, her eyes meeting his with a playful glint. Without warning, she grabbed Alfie by the collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. It was sudden, catching him completely off guard. For a moment, Alfie froze, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he found himself leaning into the kiss, his hands resting on her waist. Izzy’s arms slowly moved from his collar to wrap around his neck, deepening the embrace. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

As they finally broke the kiss, Izzy’s eyes locked onto his, a mix of vulnerability and boldness in her gaze. “I’ve been wanting to do that for some time now,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

Alfie’s heart pounded in his chest, a rare moment of tenderness washing over him. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Izzy,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly.

Izzy giggled, her arms still wrapped around his neck. “Stay the night, Alfie. Please,” she asked, her voice soft and sincere.

Alfie sighed, his resolve weakening. “Alright, love. I’ll stay.”

He helped her into the nightgown, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to maintain his composure. Once she was dressed, he carefully laid her down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her. He then settled beside her, feeling a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

She reached out and embraced Alfie, catching him off guard. He froze for a moment, the sudden turn of events leaving him momentarily speechless. Izzy’s head rested on his chest, and he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

“I’ve missed you, Alfie,” she blurted out, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and boldness. “These busy days... I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

Alfie’s heart pounded in his chest as he gently brushed her hair with his fingers, his other arm wrapping around her back. He did miss her as well. Probably more than words can say. Still, this was an unexpected setup, one that left him feeling both protective and conflicted. He listened intently as Izzy rambled about her feelings, her words a mix of drunken honesty and pent-up emotions.

“I’ve been wanting to leave Michael for a long time now,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. “I just want to go back home to Brooklyn.”

Alfie’s heart wrenched at her words, a pain he hadn’t anticipated. The thought of her leaving, of losing the connection they had built, was almost too much to bear. He swallowed hard, his voice vulnerable as he spoke. “If you leave for Brooklyn, you’ll be leavin' me as well.”

Izzy looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and confusion. “I don’t want to leave you, Alfie. But I don’t know what to do.”

Alfie sighed, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back. “We’ll figure it out, love. Just... don’t make any rash decisions. Not tonight.”

She nodded, her head resting back on his chest. The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in a long time.

His mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but for now, he focused on the woman in his arms. He heard her sigh deeply, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and sadness. “I don’t want Michael to come back to Birmingham, but he will soon,” she confessed, peaking Alfie’s curiosity.

He looked down at her, his brow furrowing. “Why’s that, love?”

Izzy’s eyes filled with a mix of resignation and determination. “Because when he does, I’ll have to go back to the hotel and do things I don’t want to do with him,” she stated bluntly, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Alfie’s blood began to boil at her words, a possessive anger rising within him. He knew what exactly she was talking about. He hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go. “You don’t have to do anythin' you don’t want to, Izzy,” he said, his voice firm and protective.

Izzy looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. She shifted, positioning herself on top of him, her hands resting on his chest. “I want to be with you, Alfie,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Before he could respond, she leaned in and kissed him deeply, pouring all her unsaid feelings and tension into the embrace. Alfie’s mind raced, but he couldn’t deny the connection they shared. He kissed her back, his hands gently caressing her back, holding her close. She slowly moved on top of him, not breaking the kiss as it deepened further. Alfie felt her purposely grinding her cunt against his rock-hard pants.

As they finally broke the kiss, Alfie’s eyes locked onto hers, a mix of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. But then, he gently pulled back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Izzy, you’re drunk,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “We outta stop. I don’t want you to regret this in the mornin'.”

Izzy’s eyes filled with a mix of frustration and longing, bitting her lower lip while staring at his. She did not answer, and proceeded to unbutton his shirt one by one, earning a deep groan from Alfie. He would be lying if he said he did not want this. His grip at her waist became a bruising one, as he fight his carnal urges, but Izzy continued to undress him. Still on top of him, she starts to remove her night gown as well, sitting on Alfie's already hardened bulge.

Alfie held her lovingly, letting her unbuckle his belt and pulling down his pants, revealing his hardened cock, she smirks and places herself in between his legs. Alfie groaned as he felt her palm wrap around him and stroking him slowly. "Fuckin' hell, Izzy." He huffed.

"Mmm... let's just have this night for ourselves, alright?" She seductively whispered, earning an exasperated nod from the old man. A moan escaped from his lips when she started placing his shaft inside her warm and wet mouth, hollowing her cheeks and bobbing her head up and down. He carefully grabbed her head and helped her bob her head in his throbbing cock, feelings the waves of unimaginable pleasure every time.

Izzy looked up to him while doing her thing, her gaze met his, turning him on even more. She could feel him getting close to eruption, she smiled and stopped with a pop. "No, no... Not just yet." she went back on top of Alfie, his concerned eyes before were replaced with a hungry one.

"You like being on top, sweetheart?" Alfie teased with a smug smirk on his face, reaching out to unclasp Izzy's lingerie and pulling her underwear down, throwing it all on the floor. He kicked his pants away as well as his shirt, both of them are fully naked now.

"And you're surprised?" Izzy said, scoffing playfully, earning a growl from Alfie. Holding her hips in place with both of his hands, she tucked her feet under his thighs for stability as she slowly pushes her wet cunt, taking his thick cock slowly. Her eyebrows furrowed as both the pain and pleasure hit her, slowly adjusting to Alfie's size and taking him all in. His hands caressed her thighs lovingly, noticing and feeling her adjust. She wanted more of him, becoming more wet as the seconds go by.

She slowly thrust her hips up and down his shaft with a loud moan escaping from her lips. Alfie huffed and grunted each time she rides him. It felt right. For the both of them, this was bound to happen. He gritted his teeth when he saw her tits bouncing along her rhythm, turning him on even more. Still holding her hips, he thrusted into her faster as well, the sound of her ass cheeks being slapped becomes quicker and quicker. Hitting her spot repeatedly.

"A-Alfie... I... I.." she moaned in between her breath. Alfie felt her clench around his cock, nearing her release.

"Let it go, baby... Let it.. go.." Alfie quicken his pace as well, wanting Izzy to release while he's inside her. Their moans filled the room along with their heavy breathing and sounds of their skin slapping against each other.

"Alf-" Izzy unable to call out his whole name, shut her eyes as she cum. His cock was dripping from her release, earning a playful smile from Alfie who is still helping her bounce up and down.

"I'm gettin' close as well, love.." his breathing getting fainter. Izzy nodded and resumed thrusting her hips up and down his cock. Her sweat was dripping down her forehead, wiping it away and locking her gaze with Alfie. She could tell that he was already near his release, with each thrust going deeper and deeper.

Alfie rubbed her arms, and looked at her rather desperately. Knowing what this meant, she nodded, giving him her full consent. "It's okay, Alfie.."

Alfie did not hesitate, he slammed her hips down with his cock twitching and came inside her. Izzy's head fell back with her eyes half open and mouth agape, feeling his loads of hot cum shooting inside her, some of it oozing out of her cunt. It was a feeling she never experienced before.

She plopped down on his chest, both of them panting. Alfie pulled her into an embrace, covering their naked bodies with her blanket. Neither of them had anything to say. Only their breathing filled the air. He felt Izzy's fingertips tracing the tattoos on his chest, she was not even looking at him. He did not mind that.

Having this young woman to himself and in between his arms was more than enough for him. His mind wandered as he stared at the ceiling of Izzy's room. It finally happened and his feelings for her were confirmed.

-

Next Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/followsfrankiep/773364695196450816/haunted-alfie-solomons-x-reader

[yarrystyleeza]

You Can Keep It (M.K)

Michael Kinsella x female!reader

Mentions of the Kinsellas' dirty business, mentions of Michael's wife death, but it's all fluff.

Summary: you've had an involuntarily hard limerence on your new coworker, Michael, for a while now. After an office party at the car dealership on a cold night, Michael lends you his jacket.

Word count: 2.11k!

Writer's note: I literally had this idea sparked in my head when I was chatting with the girls on discord the other day—and I really had to write it down! It's short, it's quick, but it's fluff and pining, it's what we live for! <3

You had a bottle of beer between your knees as you sat on the white office sofa, chatting with one of your coworkers about your plans for the weekend.

Amanda had decided to throw a party at the car dealership for whatever reason and you didn't really question it. You needed a break from working and some food because today was exhausting, and this party offered you all.

"I'll be out of town fer the weekend," your coworker said before taking a sip of her drink, "goin' ta see me boyfriend's family fer the first time," you smiled. You know she was looking forward for that day for a really long time, she and her boyfriend were planning an engagement soon and you couldn't be happier for her.

But as she spoke, your eyes strayed away to the farthest corner in the room and you spot him. The gloomy dark-haired man, standing alone, the way he always did. Michael.

Your eyes meet for a second and your face blazing red. Your interactions were less than few, but you couldn't help but smile and feel your stomach churn whenever you spot him anywhere in the crowd, or keep staring at him as he talks, or when he smiles—Oh God, when he smiles. This man was the perfect form of himself when he smiles.

He's Amanda's brother-in-law, and you learned that he was freshly released from prison for the murder of his wife. You didn't know of him before that and you'd be a liar if you say it didn't scare you off the first time you heard of him.

You expected a very frightening looking man but, he was totally the opposite.

Apparently, and presumably, he wasn't the one who did it. Judging from the way he looks whenever someone mentions her—he loved his deceased wife. But only him and God know what happened that night.

You know about the Kinsellas' real business, everyone knows about it, they aren't hiding or keeping it under the wraps anyway—but you often thought of that dirty business' involvement in that poor woman's demise. But ever since he was released, Michael was working his best to stay off the business—for his teen daughter, Anna.

You know, you just know.

Maybe you overheard couple things and maybe you investigated couple others but you're not very proud to say that you know things about this man and his family more than anyone else in the room. You know... Too much. You're Amanda's assistant—you got to be involved in so much shit work, and you knew so much that either could make you feared and powerful or put your head in a guillotine basket.

"Go talk ta him," your coworker nudged your knee with hers. You turned your head back to her, realizing that you were staring at Michael for too long. She smiled. You were a deer caught in headlights.

"What are ya talkin' about?" you were garbled, mind scattered all over the place. But a part of your brain is still there, with the man in the corner—and your eyes fight to look back at him.

"Ya know who I'm talkin' about. Go." she chin-jutted in his general direction. Your eyes follow back to him and his gentle gaze was on you. Once your eyes met again, a smile was slowly drawn on his face and you could see his cheeks prickling from this very far spot you're at. He looks down at his feet then back at you and you slip out of time and space, the air is stuck in your throat and your brain tunes out everything but him.

He's under the spotlight, and the rest is pitch darkness.

You rise from your seat to cross the distance between the two of you. Your heart pounds loud in your ears, your breath feels hot and wet against your face as you march towards him with his focus poured onto you.

His smile deepens the closer you get, until you could see the crow feet on each side of his eyes. You loved his hazel eyes, and you couldn't help but stare into their brown vastness and innocence, getting lost in the drugging color of caffeine.

"Hey," he speaks with a smile and says your name. He knows who you are, the same way as you do. And in fact, the feeling is mutual.

For a moment, you forget how to breathe. "Hey, Michael," you smile and your face is red. You've never said his name out loud before and it sounds way better than the voices in your head.

"How's the party goin fer ya?" you ask, taking a sip of your drink, trying to sound chill and casual and nonchalant—but in reality you were melting into a puddle with his gaze softly casted upon you.

He smiles and you could see the ghost of a dimple under his thick beard. "Grand. Ya?" he simply answered, or that's what he succeeded to delude you with.

You were the first one Michael ever laid his eyes upon since he got released weeks ago. You made his heart tick in a way he couldn't explain. He watched you talk and smile and laugh with your coworkers and he wished he was this close to you.

At one of the few times you got a chance to talk—he was a breath away from asking you out, but he thought it would be awkward and a bit creepy. This broke him into pieces, watching you acting professionally around him while he was almost a pile of sweat and tears in front of you.

Tonight, when he looked at you and you looked up at him, his heart faltered in his chest, each beat is tripping over the other. He tried to appear more staid and calm but he sighs so desperately when you ripped your eyes quickly away from his.

He thought about walking over to you and striking up a conversation and maybe ask you out afterwards—but he felt it was too awkward to do that; he never started the talk—not with someone close. But he wants to be close. He wants to be something more to you. His insalubrious crush on you keeps him up at night and daydreaming in the morning.

"Grand, I guess," you pull him back into reality. You're standing in front of him, here and now, and he wasn't imagining things.

"Glad ye are, pet," your breath hitched in your throat at the casual petname he threw at you. You blink into the distance twice and look back at him. He just called you 'pet'.

You couldn't help but daydream about how other flirty words would sound with his pleasantly gravelly voice. 'Mine', 'baby', 'love', 'sweetheart', 'bug', you wanted to hear it all now. You wanted to hear your name in all of his tones.

"So am I," you had to talk back, you already looked awkward enough with your mind straying every few seconds.

"Wait a second," he gently says before passing you and heading towards the buffet table. You watch him plate two slices of pizza and some other bits and bites before heading back in your direction.

"Here," he offers you the plate. You take a slice and he takes the other, placing the plate on the desk next to him. "Ye've been working all day today, pet, ye must be starving," he calls you with that name again and you turn as red as your blouse.

You nodded with a 'thank you' before taking a bite of your slice. "Ye noticed," it was higher than a whisper, maybe it was a loud thought that slipped out of your mouth, but he caught it, and his face blushes and burns.

He blinks a couple of times, trying to find a way to avoid your eyes because you were staring at him with those pretty orbs of yours and he already started melting under your beautiful gaze.

"Yeah, can't lie," he lets his guards down with a sigh and a smile, "ye were working so hard on yer desk this mornin' and I wanted ta get ye coffee and something ta eat, but felt it was awkward ta do tha'."

There you go. If this wasn't a hint, you don't know what else is. Your grin widened as your heart raced faster. He was so considerate of you, it made your heart sweetly swell and you fought the urge to kiss him—not minding the setting or the fact that none of you have made anything clear yet.

You shook your head. "Not at all, Michael, that would've been a nice thing," you had to encourage him, you wanted things to go farther, to go deeper, and to grow stronger.

"In tha' case, I'll pick up some brunch fer us on me way tomorrow mornin'. Say Reuben sandwiches, black coffee and Baileys Truffles? Is tha' grand fer ya, pet?" you were in awe of him. Was he thinking about this for so long?

You nodded. "But I'd prefer if we had it outside," you didn't know what you said before it left your mouth. You mentally placed your hands over your mouth.

"Ye're askin' me out, pet, is that what ye're doin'?" he smirked and you found yourself blurting incoherent words. You sigh with a smile and look back at him.

"Can't let ya ask me out before I do it first, pet. Understand?" he inches a little closer, but not too close, just the amount enough to let you know that he's so interested in you.

You blush at his demands and you nod with a grin. He chuckled, for the first time tonight, and it was the most pleasant voice you've ever heard.

"I want ye ta go out with me fer brunch tomorrow, pet," Michael was now filled with confidence and pride, "and I want ta pick up lunch fer ya too."

That was too much for you to bare. He asked you out, offered you two meals, and you had no idea what comes next.

"And if ya let me, I will take ya fer a drink tomorrow night."

That was official. He is way more than just interested in you, he was head over heels for you.

"I'd love ta," you coquetted, unintentionally, but to him it was sweet and spontaneous—and that made him fall harder.

Time slipped away with your endless chats and the night began to die out.

"It's getting late fer ya, pet," Michael breaks the silence after pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket. It was then when you found yourself alone with him —beside a couple other coworkers.

"Alright, um... Goodnight Michael." you say, almost turning in your heels.

"Mikey." he corrects you, "it's Mikey. Goodnight, pet." both of you smile and he lets you walk back to your office.

You pick up your purse and keys and walk out of the glass building, after exchanging waves and glances and maybe mental kisses and hugs.

In contrast to the warmth of the place inside, you were hit with a freezing howl of wind and it nailed you in place, hugging yourself while shaking out of shock and cold.

You walk for a couple feet before you heard your name called from behind you. You turn around. It was Michael—Mikey, taking off his black jacket as he approached you.

"There," he surprised you, placing his jacket on your shoulders and you were hit with the beautiful woodsy scent of his. He smelled of cinnamon and dark coffee and mint gum, you swear you could sleep in this forever.

His hands linger on your shoulders for a moment before he backs away an inch. "Tha' was stupid of me ta say back in there, ya shouldn't walk home alone at tha' time."

You tried to protest, but he shook his head, saying your name as soft as a swan feather on your skin. "Let me walk ya home, please." he said, his eyes sparkled in the dim lights.

You walk silently next to him, despite the butterflies loudly churning in your stomach, flying and meddling around in your chest, playing with the strings of your heart and messing with the chemistry of your brain.

You were completely besotted by this gentleman.

You make it to your doorstep and you're about to slip out of his jacket and hand it back to Michael when he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"No. Keep it." he says with a smile, inching closer to you, placing a chaste and soft peck on your temple, "goodnight, pet. See ya tomorrow."

Taglist: @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @1988-fiend @floral-charlie-cat @munsonownsmyass @lazyxsquirrel @mindidjarin (feel free to ask for addition or removal 🤍)

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you for reading! 💞💞💞

[chubbyreaderchan]

Pinky Promises | Michael Myers x F!Reader | MDNI 18+

A/n: Michael and (Y/n) finally passionately hug each other and mush bathing suit areas but it is marked where it starts if you just wanna know what happens next without the spice. 

Warnings: Canon typical violence with probably too graphic a description, size kink, p in v, allusion to oral sex f receiving, Michael Myers is a virgin, Y/n is not but he’s a big boy, he does not give a fuck, and charges on through, unprotected sex, uhhh the mask stays on, Michael cums a lot cuz i’m gross. oh and his favorite cereal is Sugar Pops because the 60′s had sucky cereal.

1, 2, 3, 4 (Release unknown if at all, lemme know if you want a part 4?) 

With pinkies locked, (Y/n) felt like she did all those years ago with little Michael, her best friend. The one she had always wanted to be with. Here he was with her, blood coating her skin. His head cocked to the side and his breathing was shallow behind the latex. He was so close to her that she could smell the copper and the sweat that came off of the towering man. 

She moved her hand from his strong grip, rubbing the blood on the once pristine white towel around her body. Her mind was screaming at her that he was dangerous. That he would kill her. He was a monster covered in blood. 

But her heart still saw the eyes of the little boy she knew so long ago. (Y/n) still cared for Michael, perhaps she only cared for her precious memories. The words that fell from her lips felt foreign. They echoed as if someone else was saying them inside of her head. 

“Are… you going to kill me, Michael?” she said. 

He was a confused puppy as if he hadn’t heard those words uttered before. His head cocked to one side and then slowly to the other. He did not raise his knife to stab her, in fact, the voice in his head didn’t seem interested in killing her. 

Michael’s bloodied hand reached out and gripped her waist. His hand trailed up her body as if he was confused by the shape of it. Something in his mind snapped when his calloused fingers brushed the side of her breast. Something Michael hadn’t felt before, deep in his stomach, in his chest, and loins. 

“Michael, you can’t touch me there. I--” 

She grabbed his wrist and pushed him off of her torso. 

“I know I promised Michael, but I’m engaged,” 

(Y/n) swallowed, glancing at the knife in his hand. 

“Listen, why… don’t you clean up. I’ll get dressed and we can talk,” 

She expected him to stay in place when she moved forward but he sidestepped and gracefully slipped into the spot she was in. 

--

(Y/n)’s hands tremmored as she pulled night clothes from her suitcase. Adrenaline pumped in her body and she couldn’t decide if she should turn Michael in. Her soft nightgown cascaded over her body, and she could hear the water in the bathroom running. 

She was allowing him to wash off the evidence in her bathroom. (Y/n) fixed her hair for bed as it was needed before her heart seemed to race when she realized the water was no longer running. 

Her feet padded against the pea green carpet she both loathed and loved, out into the hallway. The bathroom door opened and steam fell out, clearly, he enjoyed the water unbelievably hot. His hulking figure stepped out softly, (Y/n)’s face burned at the sight. Only a white t-shirt and cheaply made tightly whiteys were on his body. A splotch of blood stained the collar and she had to admit he looked good from what she could see. He was raw muscle from head to foot. No matter her weight or size he seemed to engulf her like a solar eclipse. It was no doubt that he could pick her up and move her as if she weighed nothing. 

His hand clung to his knife, as a child would a favorite stuffed animal but in the other hand was something rectangular. 

“You remember that day?” she asked. 

He walked towards her, shame long forgotten in his years in a mental hospital. Or perhaps Michael wasn’t born with the feeling of shame. He held the picture frame up to her and she smiled a natural cheeky smile that made Michael’s chest hurt again. 

“We played knights! Remember?” she giggled. 

Gently she took the picture from his hands. “It’s the only picture of us I have anymore,” 

The frown on her face was something that made Michael feel the need to kill all over again. But not her. Never her. The shape wouldn’t touch her, not like that… at least not permanently. The same wetness he wiped from his own eyes days ago seemed to drip down her cheek. 

His thumb curiously rubbed the tear from her face and she flinched before leaning into his warm tanned hand. 

“I’m sorry Michael,” she said softly. “I just miss those days you know. Those are my best memories. But my fiance doesn’t want me to live in the past,” 

Michael was glad he killed him the moment he saw him. Michael didn’t know how to comfort her, but at least the source of her sad look was done. 

The Shape lifted the latex mask just enough to uncover his lips. His hand on her cheek lifted her chin and he bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. It was small, childish, sweet, and similar to the one she gave him when they were children. The first and only kiss he ever had from anyone that wasn’t his mother. 

(Y/n) didn’t stop him. She leaned into him and enjoyed the warm chapped lips against her own. Then his tongue invaded her mouth like an aggressive intruder. Poking and prodding around her. Tasting every inch of her surprised mouth. Michael’s rough hand slid from her cheek to her throat, squeezing the pad of his thumb into the side of her neck. Firm but not choking. 

He pulls away and tugs the mask over his face quickly. Honey strands of saliva connected them for a moment before dribbling down her lip. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she knew it was awful but she wanted him to do it again to her. 

But she knew Michael. Perhaps she was the only one who knew Michael. He would do things only if he wanted to do them. Though, those things he was willing to do were often if she was there or if she was asking him to do them. 

“Michael, are you hungry? I didn’t have dinner,” she asked gently. 

-- 

It was hardly a dinner at all. It was a bowl of sugary cereal and milk. She had to dig around for the bowls and spoons and Michael watched her from the corner of the kitchen. 

“Do you still like Sugar Pops?” 

The only response she got was him sitting down at the small table. (Y/n) poured their bowls and sat down. 

It was fascinating watching Michael eat, he maneuvered around the mask as if he had it on his entire life. Not even a peak of his face could be seen as he downed bowl after bowl of cereal. (Y/n) only consumed the one, downing the milk and rubbing the milk mustache off with the back of her hand. She was enchanted with Michael. 

(Y/n) was always enchanted by Michael. 

The front door slammed open and shut again. (Y/n)’s back stiffened. 

“That must be Richie,” she stands up. “Stay here, Michael,” 

Michael’s hand went to his trusty blade that was set on the table. He watched her walk past him and leave beyond the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, Richie,” She said. 

He stood covered in blood and limping. 

“We need to get out of here, there’s a maniac out there,” he coughed. 

Crimson splattered from his lips and into the carpet.

“He tried to ki--” he froze. 

(Y/n) knew if she turned around at that moment she would see Michael’s looming figure. So she did. 

“Michael, please,” she said softly. “Go back into the kitchen,” 

“Michael?” Richie spat. “THIS IS THAT LITTLE BLONDE BASTARD I’VE BEEN COMPETING WITH ALL THESE YEARS,” 

(Y/n) flinches at the volume, and Michael takes several steps forward. Richie grabs (Y/n)’s arm and throws her to the ground. 

“Take the bitch, you bastard. Kill her, fuck her, I don’t fucking care. Just let me go,” he pleaded. 

Michael is frozen. Stuck between picking her up and stabbing him until he was sure he couldn’t get up again. But then she stands up, and the choice is made for him. A shadow in the night, he rushes Richie and stabs him in the chest. 

(Y/n) screams. 

“Michael!,” She calls, but she can’t seem to care. 

At least not about Richie. Her fiance’s bloodied hand reaches up and tries to gouge Michael in the eye. He fumbles, unable to find the socket through the latex of the mask. With a sickening crunch of skull and brain matter, Michael stabs Richie in the temple. Blood flies across the burnt orange carpet staining the shag forever. 

(Y/n) exhaled the breath she was holding. Relief seemed to flood her entire body, and endorphins caused her skin to produce goosebumps. The stress of an unhappy relationship was gone from her entire being and Michael was the one to do it. 

“What do we do now?” she asked softly. 

Her shaking hands returned. Michael as always, said nothing. He lumbered up the stairs and came back down them in his blue coveralls. He grabs Richie’s corpse by the ankles and begins to haul him off, somewhere she did not know. 

-- 

Hours passed and the night grew darker. (Y/n) worried he was caught. That somehow they’d track her down and they’d never see each other again. The stress bit at her skin with a swarm of mosquitoes that seemed to eat at her unless she was doing something else. 

The blood was cleaned from the carpet. Boxes moved and unpacked. Laundry was started in the basement and she put out some clean clothes, which were of course much too short for Michael, on the bed for him to sleep in. 

She suddenly felt like she was playing house with little Michael Myers all over again. Her final stop was the two empty cereal bowls that sat in the sink. She had no clue of the figure behind her until his large hands wrapped around her neck. (Y/n) gasped before she felt the large body behind her, soft latex pressed against her cheek. 

-SPICE STARTS HERE-

In the center of her spine, she could really feel him. Thick and hard, did murder excite him? His hips pushed forward pushing her into the sink, rubbing himself against her and against the fabric of his clothing. 

Her heart dropped into her warm loins and her eyes fluttered shut. The drag of rough cotton and clotted blood made her body tingle in such a strange way. (Y/n) wanted to turn, to see him but his grip on her neck wouldn’t allow her to move. 

“Michael,” she choked. “Bed. Please,” 

Michael pulled away, and for a beat, she thought she had upset him. Made him stop what he wanted, but then he lifted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His hand gripped the space where her buttcheek and thigh met, he couldn’t help but squeeze it as he did so. 

The Shape lumbered up the creaking stairs and into the master bedroom. He threw her down and she bounced slightly against the spring, the clothes on the bed flew off and Michael stared her down. The silky nightgown had dragged up her hips and revealed sweet cotton panties with growing dampness staining the front. 

He wanted to see more of her. Michael climbed into the bed on his knees, hovering above her body. Rough fingers dragged up her arms, covering her in fresh blood. His thumbs hooked over the thin straps of the dress and pulls them down until (Y/n)’s breasts were uncovered. 

Hot breath escaped the bottom of the mask, brushing against her skin. He stared, unmoving at the breasts that seemed to suit his wife so perfectly. 

Michael didn’t care for laws or technicalities. As far as he was concerned they had been married since the day she asked him. It only took time for him to finally be with her. 

His large hand finally moved from the place against her arm and down to her waist like he had before. Up her curves and squished anything he could before grabbing her breast in his hand. He ran a thumb over the hardened nipple and a soft hum of approval escaped (Y/n)’s soft lips. 

So he did it again. 

She hummed again. 

He pinched the nipple and she moaned. 

That moan sent a shiver down his spine and the fabric of his clothing felt suffocating. It was like she could read his mind, her fingers pulled the heavy zipper down his body. Warm hands traced his strained t-shirt and down into his underwear. Soft fingertips followed his long shaft to the tip and the way her eyes widened in fear caused a low grunt to leave Michael’s lips. 

His hips slammed up into her hand. The fingers wrapped around him and he grunted again and another animalistic hump into her palm followed. (Y/n) smiled at him, and her free hand ran up his chest and to his mask.

Michael grabs her wrist just before she could tug off the mask. 

“It’s okay Michael, you can leave it on,” she assured him. 

Her hand on his throbbing cock moved down his length, his pubic hair was soft against her fist. Up and down she pumped his shaft and Michael could hardly control his hips. But his own hands were now exploring her body as she touched him. 

He enjoyed the softness of her breasts but he soon found his way into the front of her panties. Blood leaving trails down her body and ruining her underwear. She hardly had time to care. Michael found her clit and touched roughly. A long moan escaped her pretty lips and he moved his fingers faster around the nub. Her hips lifted off the bed and she could feel an orgasm building quickly. 

“Wait,” she tried to slow him down and stop him but her body beat her to the punch. 

She came while being barely touched by him. Her scream was loud and he liked it. It was better than the screams of his victims. Much better than any music or cries for help. He didn’t even stop his fingers over her clit. Her hands were removed from his cock and now wrapped around his wrist. 

But he didn’t slow down the assault on her clit. He pushed her through a second orgasm and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. 

“Slow down Michael,” she begged. 

He grunted at the tone. He licked his lips behind the mask, his fingers finally leaving the sensitive nub. Michael inserted two fingers, and she jumped in surprise at the intrusion. Thick and rough in the best ways. The grip on his wrist loosened and he began pumping in and out of her, his head cocking to the side as he watched her face contort. 

The digits were removed just before she could reach another euphoria. He looked at the glistening on his fingers before slipping them under his mask for a taste. Michael groaned at the flavor and knew he would become addicted to her. 

His hands hooked around her panties and he ripped them into two. Then his jumpsuit was around his hips and his cock was released from its irritating prison. (Y/n) leaned forward from her spot on the pillows. He was huge, of course, he was huge. This and long, curving just right. Pre-cum oozed from the tip and she licked her lips. 

“Michael, you have to be careful, you’re big--” 

Words caught in her throat as he flipped her onto her stomach. He squeezed and smacked the meat of her ass before pressing against her body. He was prodding at her wet entrance. 

“It’s too big, Michael,” 

He huffed and roughly pushed into her, a yelp of pain and surprise at the stretch caused him to twitch inside of her. Michael’s hands traced up her body again, stopping to grab her tits and then around the front to her throat for leverage. His dull nails bit into her skin but it was nothing compared to the pleasurable burn of Michael as he began to rock his hips. 

It didn’t take long for him to find a wild, yet consistent rhythm. He growled and grunted like a caged animal and the burn turned into pure pleasure as his cock brushed against the pressure point deep inside her walls. 

“Oh, fuck Michael,” she whined. 

He rammed into her hard at that and she moaned. His fingers tightened around her throat, (Y/n)’s vision began to get hazy as he pulled her against his pistoning hips. Just as she was about to fall into the darkness he let go and he felt her walls flutter around him. 

“Holy fuck,” She whined as she came around his cock. 

The tight sensation was too much. Michael couldn’t hold off anymore. He came. Hard and thick ropes of cum from years of isolation and lack of sexual interest. He kept cumming, more than anyone she had ever been with. 

His body slumped heavily against her back as it finally stopped. He grunted into her ear from beyond the mask and his huffing hot breath brushed against her shoulder. (Y/n) had no choice, she lay with his weight on top of her. His cock pulled from her body finally, rolling to the side flat on his back. 

(Y/n) turned over and sighed. 

“I love you, Michael. I know you probably won't or can’t understand that, but I always have and I always will,” she said softly. 

(Y/n) leaned up and kissed the soft cheek of his mask.

As she turns to pull from Michael, he grabs her arm again. He lifts the mask with his free hand just enough for his lips to show. The soft pink lips crashed into hers with all tongue and teeth invading her mouth again. She welcomed it and he pulled away again. Instead of pulling his mask down, however, he began kissing down her body. Licking and tasting her. 

“Again already?” 

She jumped in surprise when his tongue licked over her folds. 

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 26/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 27

I wish this was longer but death goes by faster than you think.

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

Lucifer thought it was a myth, you know, the idea that life flashes before your eyes when you're dying.

But as he recalls everything that happened since the beginning beginning, he wonders if he is reliving it all in a loop. Can a memory experience it as well? Can a memory exist within a memory? He doesn't know if he's just a copy of a copy, and that thought terrifies him.

But this feels real. Dying, that is.

Roo: You were always so arrogant.

A voice echoed somewhere. It was Roo, appearing suddenly like she always does.

Arrogant or misunderstood? Lucifer replied internally, voice laced with a hint of weariness.

Roo: Does it matter now? You're dying, fallen. Even you cannot cheat fate.

Oh Father, this is really happening. He's really going to die; just when he found new people to care about, someone to love again, and reconnected with his daughter—he's going to leave them. Leave Alastor. The Sins. God, Charlie.

He wants to spend the rest of eternity making her happy. He wants to tell her more stories of his good times in Heaven and Eden. To teach her how to properly use her powers. To watch her fulfill her dreams. Damn it, he wants to see her get married. To walk her down the aisle. To welcome Vaggie to their family. He wants to be there for every laugh, every tear, every triumph, and every setback. He longs to witness every precious moment of her life unfold.

It'snotfairIt'snotfair!It'snotfairIt'snotfair!It'snotfairIt'snotfair!It'snotfairIt'snotfair!

He wants to spend one more moment with Alastor. To kiss him. To hug him and never let go. He wants to find another stupid Marigold in every corner for him to find. He wants to hear Alastor's voice, to share in his laughter, to feel the warmth of his presence. He wants to be selfish and let Hell be destroyed—just please, 'Dad, please I just want to live one more day!'

He yearns to see Earth's sun rise one more time, to feel its warmth on his face as he sits on it's grassy plains. To share another meal, another conversation, another fleeting second of joy. He wants to hold onto the fragile, beautiful moments that made life now worth living. The thought of leaving now, of abandoning this newfound happiness, is unbearable. He’s desperate, clawing at the very fabric of existence for one more chance, one more breath, one more heartbeat.

How will Alastor learn to love again? How will the Sins cope with losing the person who raised them, who gave them their everything? How will Charlie-

How will Michael and the others...

But it's not them who he calls out to. Because he's also once a child. And like a child in their time of need, he calls out to his father.

'Father! Please! I need you! Don't let them take me yet, DAD PLEASE!'

Lucifer wants to scream it all out, but he only spits out blood as the sword of his older brother impales him right in his heart. For a moment, he thinks it is Michael holding the sword—that he has betrayed him again.

The relief he feels when he realizes it is the exorcist who just stabbed him almost makes him forget what's happening.

Almost.

Lute pushes the sword further into him and twists it. Shit! It hurts like a bitch. He could probably destroy her now, but he's honestly too shocked to do anything. He's frozen in place, but his entire body is shaking.

Roo: This is it, fallen.

The battlefield is chaos and screams, but he can't hear any of it—only a dark, broken laugh from Lute.

Roo: Make them pay for it.

Her eyes are pure black now, and Lucifer knows that there's only a sliver of sanity left in her. They are both dying here today.

One way or another.

They don't move and it feels like an eternity before he finds the strength to speak without coughing blood.

Lucifer: Exorcist.

Lute: What? Here to say your last words?

He ignores her taunts and keeps his voice calm.

Lucifer: Tell me again. What is your name?

She digs the weapon deeper and gets all up in his face. If she had more control of her mind, she would not answer and would spit in the devil's face. But she's losing it.

So she answers.

Lute: I am Lute. Leader of the exorcists. The first man's former lieutenant. The angel who just rid the world of the devil.

It's funny, really. Getting killed by Michael's sword wielded by an angel named Lute. Guess that part about "the instrument of Heaven will be the Devil's slayer" bullshit in the prophecy was spot on.

It's funny so he laughs.

He feels himself slipping away and Roo clawing her way up. There's a distinct sound of cracking, and he sees that it's his skin breaking apart like he's a porcelain doll. But he pays it no mind.

Lucifer: I have to congratulate you, Lute.

Lute: Oh yeah? Why's that?

His laughter fades, replaced by a somber tone.

Lucifer: See. I may have damned humanity.

Her eyes narrow, suspicion mingling with her fading sanity.

Lucifer: But you. Ohhhhh you.

He continues, a dark smile tugging at his lips.

Lucifer: You've just damned Heaven.

Then.

Then, the light fades from Lucifer's eyes as life slips away, and his body slumps against his brother's blade.

He's glad to have at least something familiar for comfort.

Someone calls the angel's name that made her pull the sword out of him and jump back.

The devil falls to the ground, motionless. And for a moment, everything is quiet, and then—

'Finally. I can sleep.'

What happens after is a cautionary tale.

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

So.

I'm sorry?

This was always how this was going to go.

Also one more update before this is done!

Please let me know what you guys think! I'd love to hear your comments <3

Do you guys think this is entire AU was just Luci's life flashing before him?

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 2 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: noneeeee

“You fuckin’ idiot!” Alex seethed, the clicks of her heels reverberated throughout Michael’s living room as she stalked, TMZ playing loudly in the background. “What part of ‘cleaning up the image’ was difficult to understand?” 

Michael gripped the back of his chair in his office in frustration. It was not just the shitty situation he found himself in when he woke up this morning, it was also his manager’s attitude. However, he did not correct Alex. He had been working with her for most of his career and the reason Alex had lasted this long was that she was unafraid of calling Michael a ‘fucking idiot’ if he was acting like one. 

“Why didn’t you just call the ambulance and then wait to leave? Did you need to do the walk of shame across the hotel lobby with her??” 

Michael scoffed. “If you think I’m that type of nigga, you really don’t know me. She was unconscious. How was I supposed to know there were fuckin’ cameras in the lobby??” 

Alex threw his hands up in the air. “Because it’s 2022 at the fucking St. Regis! There’re cameras every fuckin’ where! Do you think I have you go in back doors and service elevators for fucking fun??? Because it is easier??? Why do you insist on making my job harder?? Do you hate me or something? We’re on the biggest run of your fucking career. And you jeopardize it for some pussy?” 

Michael’s fingers massaged his temples. He had not gotten a single break in the last three days. He felt like he was stuck in the deepest circle of hell since he drove off from Raven’s apartment days prior. Every moment of his day was consumed with one thought, one singular person: Raven. What was she doing? How was she healing? Did she come up with the money she needed? Should he write her a check and drop it off anonymously? Would she even accept that or appreciate it? Question after question ran through his brain regardless of how hard he tried to excommunicate her from it. She was stuck to him like super glue. He replayed their one night together over and over again, jerking off on more than one occasion dreaming of the things he wished to do to her body. So many disgusting and filthy things. 

This disgusting pining lasted for two days before he gave in, last night, and called Helen to schedule another date with her. And it was not even about the sex. She had a concussion so he would not feel comfortable fucking even if she was up for it. He just wanted to see her, check in on her. And that terrified him. Never had a one-night stand or woman he paid to sleep with captured his mind quite like this. He loved fucking Tasha but he did not pine for her or even really think about her outside when he was horny and needed release. But Raven… she was something he had never experienced before. And he hated it. So in a split second decision, he booked Tasha instead, in hopes that fucking another woman would get her out of his mind once and for all. And it worked for a moment. The few hours of sleep he got after leaving Tasha was the first Raven-free sleep he had gotten until he woke up to his face plastered all over TMZ as he followed the EMTs wheeling her out of the hotel. 

The angle of the camera blocked her face, thankfully, but there was no mistaking him. The media ran with their own stories, some neutral and some speculating things Michael would never have dreamed of. It was a PR nightmare, which is why his manager was at his house to do damage control. However, Michael did not particularly care about his own reputation. He just worried if there was another angle with Raven’s face visible. He was used to being in the press, often for being attached to different random women, but Raven did not seem like the type who would enjoy such attention. And he did not even have her number to call and satisfy the small part of him that wanted to check in on her. The part of him he despised. 

“Are you even listening to me??” Alex called out, ending her rant to realize Michael’s mind was clearly elsewhere. 

Michael straightened up and pushed Raven out of his head for a moment, a true feat. 

“My bad. Look, I didn’t jeopardize anything. You can’t even see her face! Besides, no matter what the press says, everyone loves me, we’re good.” 

Alex shook her head. “That isn’t the point. You don’t think they won’t try to figure out who this girl is?? Try to piece together some story about something nefarious or terrible that happened? You were seen leaving a hotel with an unconscious woman… there are only a couple ways I can spin this shit that it doesn’t look bad for you. And just so you’re clear, people want to fuck you. They don’t love you. At best, people think you’re neutral and at worst, they think you’re an asshole. The only thing they all agree on is that you’re one of those things with extreme talent, a cute face and award-winning smile. So they ignore that ambiguity because because every woman and some men want to fuck you.”  

Michael walked over to his decanter, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He did not care that it was 10 am, it was 5 pm somewhere in the world, he supposed. 

“And now you’re drinking at 10 a.m. Should I add a stint in rehab to my list of things to spin this week?”

Michael chose to ignore that dig. “You made your point, Alexandra. I’m sorry. I’m an ass,” he admitted, which he knew was true. He would never win an award for sweetest personality. “So what can we do? What are the ways we can spin it?” 

She shrugged. “Well, the truth would be fine… embarrassing but unproblematic IF she wasn’t a prostitute. I’m all for the girls getting their money but now really isn’t the time in our culture for you to be attached to a prostitute.” 

“It’s 2022, who cares if I pay for sex?” 

“I think people care if you paid for sex and it was so rough you sent her to the damn hospital, Mike. That’s what people would care about. And then it’s a whole other thing… did she want it that rough, did she know it would be that rough, did she consent to whatever caused the accident? And the answer to all of those could be yes and we could say that but without her word, it’s murky as fuck. And then it begs reporters to ask the question, are there women with sorted tales of rough sex with Hollywood’s favorite movie star that they didn’t want even if this one was consensual? Also I don’t necessarily think it’s a good time to admit to the world that you pay for sex damn near every week.” 

“Plenty of men pay for sex, Alex.” 

“Sure and that’s fine. But people judge them too. When you’re handsome and could just be in a relationship. Look, I’m not judging but it sends a certain playboy, unattached message. And that shit was fine when you were 30 but we’re pushing 40. And you’re the one that said when Creed 3 comes out next year, you want to take the jump to directing more. Producers, studios need to see you as a serious person to take you seriously as a director. Denzel is serious, George Clooney is serious, John Krasinki is serious, Kevin Costner is serious. And studios trust them with projects because they are serious people! You know what all those men have in common?? They are settled, family men with beautiful wives who are kick ass in their own right and they DON’T frequent prostitutes! Or if they do, we don’t fucking know it because they aren’t plastered on TMZ. Look, I say this with all the love in the world for you… but you’re the definition of an unserious person and I need you to get serious before you’re a fucking 45, washed up actor wasting his incredible talent playin’ the same role in every action movie because no one takes you seriously.” 

Michael nodded. “I hear you. And I understand. I promised I’d clean it up and I slipped. But we can fix this… we always do. If the truth works, why don’t we just say that-” 

“Did you listen to anything I just said?” Alex immediately started to say before Michael cut her off. 

“With a minor lie… We say it was my girlfriend. We were enjoying a night after partying, had sex, fell off the bed, she hit her head, I took her to the hospital out of an abundance of caution. And we turn it back on the media and say they infringed on a private moment between us by turning a health emergency into a public spectacle.” 

Alex rubbed her forehead. “Thank God you are attractive,” she muttered to herself. “I mean in theory, that’s the ideal play but there’s one major flaw in that plan, you’re tragically single. Like I’ve known you for a decade and you’ve never even been romantically tied with a woman for more than a night. I can’t sell a girlfriend that doesn’t exist anymore than I can sell magic at Hogwarts. And there’s no woman that we could pass off as this girl in time. ” 

“What if we say it’s Raven… the actual girl?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. There were flaws in the plan, he could recognize that. But he wanted to see her again and this might be his only option to do so.

“I’m all for a PR relationship, don’t get me wrong. They can be successful. But it won’t help you if and when one of her old clients comes out later and tells the world she was a prostitute. Then we are back where we started but worse because everyone knows you were in a fake relationship.”  

Michael shook his head. “Nah, nah, she’s perfect. I was her first real date so there are no clients to come out to say shit. Helen is hella strict with her girls, no press, so if I had to guess, she’s gonna fire her,” though the thought frustrated him as she did nothing wrong. “So there’ll be no record of her working for an agency. We can say we were tryin’ to keep it under wraps because she isn’t used to the spotlight. I haven’t been seen with a fling in months so we can say it’s fairly new. Besides, if there’s a camera with an angle on her face, it covers our asses.” 

Michael did not want to admit why he was fighting so hard to enter into a fake relationship with Raven. Did not want to admit it to Alex or himself. This was a dangerous plan, he knew it. There were so many reasons it was foolish and would fall apart. But he did not care about a single one of those reasons. He reasoned that this was a logical course of action. She was probably the best person to enter a fake relationship with too. She understood how to put on a show and what she was being paid for and knew that no feelings would be involved. This would be a mere business transaction, he would get her and his own feelings out of his system, and everyone would be happy. 

“It… could work,” she admitted. “But you’d have to keep up a public relationship with all the fixings for at least six months to sell it. You’d have to do everything I say, NO more visits with Tasha or any other woman. We’d need to get through the premiere of your current film next month, the holidays, the Creed premiere, nominations, and the Oscars in March before you could break it off. Would she even agree to that? Most of these relationships work because it’s mutually beneficial. You know another celebrity who could use the PR bump. What would even be in it for her?” 

“Let me worry about that, aight? Just trust me. I messed up, let me fix it this time. My first step as a serious person.” He flashed her his award winning smile, which made Alex laugh. 

“You realize I am the only woman on the planet that shit doesn’t work on?”

He shrugged. “You’ve stuck by me this long… I think it works on you too,” he winked at her.

“Barely,” she mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before surrendering to his plan. She did not really have a better one at the moment. “Fine. I can give you 12 hours to convince her. We need to get a statement out tomorrow morning. Fix this, Mike.” 

“Consider it already fixed,” he vowed, determined to clean up his own image and get what he wanted in the process. 

***

“Helen, please! I need this job!” 

“And I can’t have my girls plastered across Page Six and TMZ. Press brings attention I don’t need.” 

“You can’t even see my face!” Raven argued. “No one knows it’s me. Please don’t do this.” 

She knew Helen could hear her pleas but she also knew the woman did not care. “Honey, the internet will figure out who you are like that,” Raven could hear the faint snap of fingers through her phone. “And I can’t have you on my roster when they do. I told you if it went left, you were out. Gotta cut you loose.” 

“B-” The phone cut out as Helen hung up on her, clearly exhausted from arguing when there was no changing her mind. 

Raven slid back into bed and tried to keep the tears from falling. Not out of pride this time, she was alone with no one to hear her sobs. But she knew crying would only make the dull pain in her head worse. She tried to hold it in until it became difficult to breath, small gasps filling her quiet bedroom. She grabbed her pillow and forced it over her face to muffle them as they turned into all out sobs. 

Helen was right, the internet would realize who she was in no time. And then her life would truly be over. She’d never get a job anywhere ever again, she’d likely lose the day job she had right now. She shuddered to think what her family would say. Likely, it would give her father the excuse he always wanted to toss her out of their lives for good, but part of her felt like that might have been the one silver lining to everything. And before that shoe dropped, she would have to figure out the larger looming financial problems barreling toward her. While her bills were just barely covered with her job and residuals, she had not come up with the rest of the money she promised her family and her only way of making fast cash was gone. .

She just needed a break, a break from the stress of life. The last 18 months had been hell and she just felt like she was dragging around a weight that only got heavier and heavier. But if she stopped or put it down, everything would crumble. She was exhausted and worn out. She curled up in her bed, crying to herself, praying God would send something to help her and fast.

***

Michael knocked at the door of Raven’s apartment. If he hadn’t been there a mere three days prior, he would’ve been convinced his driver took him to the wrong address. He teetered on his heels for a moment or two until the door swung open. 

“Hello?” The young woman, a cute curly-haired light skin girl, opened the door. “Oh umm can I help you?” 

Michael could tell she recognized him, however, he gave her kudos for not completely melting and losing all common sense like most women do when they saw him.

“Hi, I have the right building but I might have the wrong apartment,” he admitted. “Looking for Raven?” 

“Oh yea, she’s in her room. Come in. She’s a bit under the weather though… not sure if she’s up for company,” she gave him an apologetic shrug before calling out for Raven. “Rae!” 

Michael glanced around their small apartment. Though the building and neighborhood left a lot to be desired in his opinion, their apartment was a cute two bedroom. Fairly small, he decided, for two people, but it was quaint. His eyes went to the floor to ceiling bookshelf tucked in the corner. It was clear someone had started off extremely meticulous and organized with it, each row perfectly color coordinated. However, the person had acquired too many books to maintain that level of organization, many sat in neat stacks on the floor in front of the bookshelf, growing so tall, they obscured the bottom shelf.

“That girl consumes books like they’re air,” her roommate remarked, following Michael’s line of sight to the bookshelf.  

He did not even get to acknowledge her statement when one of the closed doors off the living room opened. 

Raven emerged, her eyes red and puffy, all of her curly hair piled on top of her head with a bright colored scarf. 

“What’s up Tiff?” Her words were punctured by sniffles, which let Michael know she had been crying. 

An inexplicable wave of concern hit him. He could guess what had caused it and immediately felt guilty, an emotion he rarely felt about anything. 

“You have a visitor?” 

Raven glanced up, almost jumping when she realized Michael B. Jordan was standing in her living room. He watched as she hastily wiped her eyes and glanced down at her disheveled appearance. She still looked insanely beautiful, even in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings.

“Umm.. h-hi. T-thanks, Tiff. W-what are you doing here?” 

“You two know each other?” 

“Yea we met the other night… at that party…” She shook her head quietly as Michael started to open his mouth. “Umm wanna talk in my room?” She gestured toward her bedroom, Michael nodding as he followed her. 

“Nice to meet you,” he threw over his shoulder to Tiffany as he followed Raven back into her room. Her face was neutral as she ushered him inside and shut the door behind him.

She had never been more displeased to see anyone in her life. Her date with him was supposed to be her big break and all it did was send her tumbling back to the bottom again. She was not mad at him, he had done nothing wrong. But between her concussion and the inability to stop thinking about him for the last three days and now losing her job, it was all too much to handle. And she knew he only came down there to talk about the photo and ensure she was not going to say anything to the media. 

“What are you doing here? In case you were confused, this counts as creepy stalker shit! Like right up there at the top of the list!” 

Michael was not expecting her visceral reaction to him, one of anger. However, he did not let it deter him. 

“I needed to talk to you.”

“About the photo?” she rushed out, just wanting to get him out of her room so she could go back to wallowing. “Look, you wasted a trip. I already lost my job so if they figure out it was me, it’ll just look like a one-night stand. And I don’t plan on selling our wild night together to a magazine or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. That wouldn’t be fair to you.” She walked over to her bed and plopped down. “So whatever you came to offer me to keep me quiet about your kinks and what happened, keep it. And if you want me to sign something, whatever, that’s fine. Just hand it over so we can get this over with.” 

He wrinkled his nose in offense at the assumption that he was there to pay her off. While he did have a certain “playboy, bad boy” image, he would have hoped he did not give off the vibe that he wanted to buy her silence. He knew it happened but it was not his style.

“That wasn’t what I came by to talk about at all. I do wanna talk about the photo but first, I just wanted to see how you were doing? I didn’t have your number and wanted to check on you. You got a concussion and then the leak… you were already stressed at the hospital, figured this didn’t make shit easier. Thought you could use a friendly face that knows what’s goin’ on?”  

Her expression softened. She had not expected that. Nor had she expected him to so accurately determine what she needed. It had been a hard day with this looming secret and no one to talk to without outing herself. Tiffany was a good friend but she would not agree with how Raven chose to make extra money. 

“O-Oh… umm… t-thank you. That’s r-really sweet. S-sorry for assuming the worst. I just figured you…” she stopped herself. “Never mind. I’m fine, or at least I will be. Head hurts less. Few more days, I’ll be healed a-and I’ll figure out the rest. Or just wait for my life to implode,” she grimaced. 

He stared at her. “You’ve been cryin’.” His eyes scanned the waste basket by the desk, which was overflowing with tissues and the ones that littered her soft rose and cream colored comforter. “A lot for just a few hours. You can be honest with me.”

She rubbed her eyes, trying to stop more from falling. “J-Just been a rough year and a half or so, rough life,” she whispered. “I take a step in the right direction and get knocked five back.” She cleared her throat before shaking her head, her body language telling Michael everything he needed to know. All he saw was exhaustion, exhaustion that clung to the bones and never let go, exhaustion so painful it was difficult to even admit it to yourself for fear of giving into it. “But it’ll turn around. So I’m good, I’m good,” she assured him. He could not tell if those words were more for him or herself. 

She stared at him for a few moments, feeling the awkwardness of having a movie star in her small cluttered bedroom. “That it?”

“Um no, actually. I might have a solution to both of our problems… if you’re interested.”

She laughed and shook her head, laying back down on her bed so she could rest her head. He had already seen her in the hospital, she figured he could deal with watching her lay down. 

“Unless you have a job for me, I don’t really know how you can help me.” 

“Well actually… I do. It’s not a traditional job or some shit but it'll be worth it. Be my girlfriend for the next six months.” 

He said the words so casually and easily, Raven would have thought he was asking her to be his dog walker. She immediately sat up, her eyes bugging out of her head. 

“What??”  

He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “My movie is coming out next month and my directorial debut is next year. The role is already getting buzz for award season. But my team thinks I need to change up my public image ahead of the promo and seem like a more serious person.” She wanted to laugh at his use of air quotes around ‘serious.’ “The photo didn’t really help and if it comes out that you were hired, it just won’t be a good look. So you pretend to be my girl for six months, get me through the premiere, the holidays and award season. Then we can go our separate ways.”  

Raven could only stare at him blankly, shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. She thought this sort of thing only happened in tv shows and in the lines of spicy romance novels. But here, a rich man stood trying to “Pretty Woman” her.

What the fuck is my life right now??

At her continued silence, Michael added, “You wouldn’t need to see me every day or anything and I’d pay you your rate with Helen for every date. My stylist would get all your clothes and outfits for the events so you wouldn’t need to worry about that.” 

Admittedly, as a new girl, her rate was not as high as Tasha’s, she just got lucky taking a date from her. But even still, she knew that she would make a hefty chunk of change by the time the endeavor was over. Though she found the proposition insane, she would have been a fool not to ponder it. He promised a hell of a lot of money for six months of work. One major question trampled over all the other more logical and logistical ones, falling from her lips without a thought. 

“Why me?”

Michael had hoped she would not ask this question. He did not have a good answer. It would’ve been better, likely, to attach himself to an actual celebrity. But Raven was the more authentic choice. However, there was also the underlying reason he even suggested it in the first place and it had nothing to do with logic. 

“My team wants to spin the other night as the media infringed on a private moment between me and my girlfriend. It being you is the most plausible option in case someone got a photo of your face.” 

Raven studied him for a moment. “That's the only reason?” 

“Yea. What else would it be?” He offered, his tone short to avoid any further questioning on the matter. He could tell it did the trick, though it bothered him to see the hurt flash across her face. However, she recovered quickly. 

“Of course,” she muttered. “So what would it entail?” She gestured toward the chair at her desk for him to sit. 

Her room was incredibly neat for someone who spent the last week in bed. More books were neatly stacked in nooks and crannies across the space but her desk was immaculate. His eyes locked in on a poster above the desk, a Toni Morrison quote written across it. 

“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” - Toni Morrison 

“Damn, how many books you got around here, girl?” 

She laughed, “Far too many to count. I have more… a whole collection back home at my dad’s. These are just the ones from my master’s and since I moved here.” 

“How many books you read in a year?” 

“I average about a book or two a week… some are shorter, some are longer.” 

“How do you find the time for that?” Michael was amazed. He had hobbies but he never had time to actually pursue them. 

“Reading is my job and my hobby,” she shrugged. “But you didn’t come all this way for that. So playing your girlfriend, what would it entail?” While she appreciated his interest in her hobbies and life, she did not want him to be interested in those things. Questions, trying to get to know her, implied something that she knew could not be there or be true. This was work and she did not need to add anymore fuel to the brewing idea that he cared for her beyond their business transactions.

“We just gotta appear like we’re dating. Dates when I'm in town, I go to an event or two a week but you probably ain’t gotta go to all of them. A couple instagram posts and shit like that to sell it.”

That did not sound terrible. She did not know if she wanted or was interested in the public scrutiny but even she could not deny that he was offering her a damn sweet deal. “Sex? Or would you continue to see Tasha?” 

“If you don’t want it to be, it doesn’t have to be. I wouldn’t see Tasha unless I can do it discreetly. But my manager would probably kill me. It would be easier on everyone if it was. Less opportunities for anyone to slip up. We had a good time, right? Besides, I still have a few things I wanted to do to you before our night got cut short.” He winked at her. 

Raven hated how cocky he was. He knew damn well she had the time of her life with him. But she refused to admit that she had been fiending for him like he was a highly-addictive drug since she last saw him. 

“I’d be amenable to that as long as no tables are involved.” 

“What if they’re bolted to the ground?” he teased. Though it ended poorly, he still thought about how that position felt, and could still hear her screams of ecstasy in his ears. They would most certainly be doing it again even if he had to bolt every table in his home to the floor himself. 

Her lips curled into the first genuine smile since he dropped her off three days prior at his joke. 

“I’d be open to that.” 

“So we have a deal?” 

She watched him, he seemed almost nervous. As if he was worried she would reject him, as if any woman with eyes and a brain had ever done that, she thought to herself. And even though every cell in her brain screamed that this was the worst idea possible and would end horribly, she could not find that reason enough to reject his proposal. Instead, she said, “Y-You know this is crazy right? These fake relationships and shit, people see right through them.” 

“Maybe, but it’s worth a try, right?”

“You know I thought this type of shit only happened in books… you’d rather pay me to pretend to love you than actually find a woman who does and build something real with her? I mean don’t you want a serious relationship and love and all that at some point?” 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.” he answered shortly. “And even if I did, I ain’t got time to find it. Look, we both got immediate problems and this is an immediate solution. Besides a few months with me and you’ll make money… influencer shit, find another rich guy, whatever. But if you aren’t interested, all good. I’ll get outta your hair. I just thought we could help each other?”

Raven studied him for a moment before nodding. The reality was he was right. She had immediate problems that his money could solve. And regardless of what she thought of his choice to go down this path, it was a job and no different than what she did three nights prior. 

“We… have a deal. There are worse jobs, I suppose.” 

*** 

“No! Absolutely not. I’m not moving out of my place.” 

Michael scoffed, confused as to why Raven was insistent on fighting him on this specific point when he thought it was the most generous part of the deal. She had agreed to literally everything else with ease but the apartment was the first time he heard her pushback in the last hour. “You know most women in your position wouldn’t argue with a nigga tryin’ to give them a free spot for six months. Besides, I looked up the crime statistics in that neighborhood -” 

“You know you aren’t really disputing the stalker allegations at all, right?” She did not understand why he would even care where she lived. 

“Just doing my due diligence,” he offered lamely. “And it’s dangerous as fuck. Why you even live there? Someone like you ain’t built for those neighborhoods.” 

She sucked her teeth in annoyance. “It’s a true community, one of the last left in LA I imagine. Far more of a community than what you have with your neighbors in this high rise,” she gestured around him at his condo downtown where they were meeting, “Or in your mansion in the valley. It’s affordable and just because it doesn’t look the best or bad shit happens - which happens everywhere in LA - doesn’t mean it’s a bad neighborhood. I know every family on my block and almost every single one in the neighborhood. And everyone knows me and everyone helps each other out. Besides, it’s close to work.”

He let out a chuckle. “None of Helen’s clients live or would step foot in that neighborhood.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I have a day job… I work at the library a couple streets from my place.”

He raised an eyebrow. He supposed it was not that shocking even the mini library of books she had at her apartment. However, he had not stepped foot in a library since he was a kid. And none of the librarians in Newark looked like her. 

“Maybe I would’ve stayed in school longer if the librarians looked like you.” His voice was playful and teasing. “That can’t pay a lot?” 

“It's a public service so of course not. Hence my very cheap rent and moonlighting job as a prostitute.” She grabbed her glass of water from the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. “But it’s fun. And gives me a lot of time to read and write on my shifts when things are quiet. And I started some fun initiatives and stuff since I started last year. Anyway, the point is, I don’t need a new fancy apartment down here. I like my space. Why do you even care?"  

This part was harder than she thought, ironing out the logistics of their new arrangement. Michael had invited her to his spot downtown, a condo he stayed in when he had late nights in the city. She just figured they would be going with the flow of things. But here they were, debating how many events a week she would need to accompany him to and where she would stay. He kept offering her extravagant things that she quickly turned down. 

“I don't," he answered shortly. Or least, he knew he shouldn't. He tried to cover it up, but even he knew his cover stories were lame. "My manager just thought it would look more legit. But if you don't wanna move, fine. You should stay here a couple nights a week then. There's always cameras around here, they need to see you comin' and goin' like a girlfriend would. This can be where we stay after dates and shit. My team will fill the spare closet with new clothes.” 

“Fine. And new clothes? What’s wrong with my clothes?” 

He sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with your clothes as an everyday thing but you should look like your boyfriend is… well, me. And that means an… elevated take on your current style.” 

She rolled her eyes. “As long as I don’t have to change my whole style, fine. And look, everything you’re offering is nice but feels excessive. All I care about is keeping my life and reputation and stacking enough money to put myself in a better position.  If there’s an event you need me to come to or something you need me to do to sell it, just text me and I’ll do it. You’re paying me to do a job so I don’t really need anything else from you, whether it’s an apartment or a closet full of designer clothes. I’m not trying to milk this arrangement for all it’s worth or steal from you. You’re paying for my time on dates and for sex, that’s all I expect.”

Michael studied her for a moment. He was hoping she would have arrived at this meeting with demands and extravagant desires but she did not seem to care. She was willing to do everything he asked and wanted nothing but the money he promised in return. No extras, no frills, no anything. It was the exact opposite of what he expected from her. And he knew it should’ve made him happy. This would be the most straight-forward business deal he negotiated in years. However, something about it bothered him. He knew it shouldn't. He knew the words about to leave his mouth were dangerous. After all what business partner cared if the other person was short changing themselves when it benefited them? He knew he should not care but here he was… going against all the voices in his head that screamed that at him.

“Are you always this amenable? To everyone?” 

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m just not selfish. You act like it’s a bad thing?” 

“It is if you let people run all over you. Being amenable is why you paid some portion of $10k to bail someone out of jail when it was clear you didn’t have it.”

She cut her eyes, sending him a glare that was so unlike her, it was unnerving. “That is none of your business.” He had never heard such sharpness in her voice, quickly realizing he had struck a chord and not a good one.

“My bad,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I just… it isn’t selfish to demand what you want too, to ensure a situation favors you just as much as the other person. So if down the road, you realize there’s something you want out of this, aside from the money, just name it. Business transactions are not about just getting the bare minimum of what you need… you’re allowed to get the things you just want too.” 

Her heart somehow both inflated and sagged at his words. There he was again, seemingly caring about her beyond the parameters of their relationship. And she could not deny that she liked it, the idea that someone cared about what she wanted, not what she could do for them. But she did not let herself bask in it for too long. Because there was so much Raven wanted in this life, so much she wanted from Michael, but she knew she could not have any of those things and he could not give them to her. 

“Last thing, sex.” 

She stared at him, confused. “I thought we agreed that we were having it?” 

He laughed. “Yea we did. We can keep it to nights when you’re already working so it’s easier. And any other nights, I’ll pay you so don’t worry about that. But if we’re gonna keep doing what we did the other night, I’d like to make sure we have ground rules.” 

“Ground rules?” 

“Like what are your hard limits? Lines I shouldn’t cross?” 

“You spanked me and called me names… hardly need rules for that.” She waved her hand to dismiss him. “We’re good. Just do what you want.” 

Michael merely laughed and stood up. He continued chewing on the toothpick he had between his teeth while he stretched one hand out for her to take. 

“Come with me.”

He led her through the apartment, down the hall to the largest bedroom. She took the quick journey to study the apartment, shocked at how sterile it felt. It could’ve been an AirBnB, furnishings as generic as the ones she could pick up from Target. Though she knew his were far more expensive. She wondered what his other home looked like, this was clearly just a bachelor pad. But she had not spotted a single family photo or anything of note in the entire place. It was beautiful, just… cold. 

Michael turned on the light and led her to the middle of the room. He stood behind her and used his hand to move her kinks to the other side of her neck before resting his hands on her hips. 

“That bed has about six different ways for me to restrain you. The different configurations allow me to put you in any position I want and you can’t move. So much shit I can do with that.. My favorite thing is,” he lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper in her ear, not shocked at how her body stiffened slightly and her breathing skipped. “To tie your arms and legs to the bed and leave you there with a vibrator. See how long it takes you to beg me to cum. Most don’t last long.” 

“Have you ever heard of shibari?” 

She nodded. At his silence, she immediately corrected herself. 

“Y-Yes.” 

“Good girl. Ever tried it?” 

“No but I’d be open to it.” 

“I learned on my first trip to Japan, been studying ever since. Gotten pretty good at it.” A single finger traced intricate patterns across her skin as if he were envisioning exactly where those ropes would go on her skin. He had barely touched her and her panties were already soaked. “This ceiling fixture,” he gestured up to it above their heads. “Is rigged to hold 300 pounds. I can already imagine you suspended from there while I fuck you. You’d like that?” He stepped around to face her, smiling at the way her eyes darkened and her nipples pebbled beneath her thin shirt.  

“I-I think so,” she whispered. His fingers returned to her body, now lazily grazing the bare skin of her thighs, inching the fabric of her skirt higher and higher.

“That bench,” he jerked his head to the side, her eyes falling on a nondescript black cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. It was tall, taller than the average bench, which let her know it was not made for sitting. “Is the perfect height for me to spank you if you disobey me, which judging from the other night, I’m sure will be often. I already know you’d like that though, right?” 

His hand squeezed her ass as he leaned in and sucked on her neck. Her body fell forward and rested against his, giving into the tantalizing pleasure he was providing. She was embarrassed by the breathy moan she let out but could do nothing to stop it.

“I asked you a question,” he reminded her. 

However, Raven felt as if she no longer had a voice let alone coherent thoughts to offer him and answer his questions. She did not understand how he had this effect on her, how she was so willing to surrender to his every whim. But she was, everything he said ignited the most impure and wicked fantasies in her mind. She pictured his words and more so clearly, they might as well have been watching a porno. 

“Y-Yes, I w-would,” she offered through gritted teeth, desperate to hold onto some amount of decency. 

“And that chaise is perfect for any and every position I could ever want you in. And the mirror lets you watch yourself while I fuck you. Oh and I’m gettin’ a swing installed next week. Perfecting timing. And that chest over there,” her eyes went to the last thing of note in the room besides his other standard furniture. “Well, I’m waiting for everything to come in but by Friday, it’ll be filled with brand new floggers, nipple clamps, gags, vibrators, plugs, and a leash since you enjoyed crawling to me so much.” 

If it were possible, her face would have flushed with red at his words. 

“How do you know I enjoyed it?” She tried to sound defiant but she knew it was weak. 

He smirked. “Cause if I told you to drop to your knees and follow me around this apartment for hours, I’d bet my life you’d do it without a second thought.” 

She was thankful he did not phrase it as a question so she was not forced to answer him. The truth was, she would. She would do anything he told her. 

“So, I have a lot more than some colorful names and a spanking in mind if sex is part of this arrangement. This really ain’t the thing you want to be amenable to without thought. Tell me what you want and don’t want. Because when we step in here, I expect you to surrender. And that requires trust that I know your limits and won’t cross them.” 

He took a step back from her, his body reeling from how badly he wanted to fuck her. And how badly she clearly wanted him to. But as badly as he wanted her, he vowed that he would only see their time together as a transaction. They went on a date and had sex, he paid her. And that meant, he could not give into his every sexual whim or thought. Otherwise, he would be fucking her every day and they’d never leave this room. And there was no way he’d survive the six months like that.  

“You also don’t have to tell me today, either. Just think about it.”

She nodded, she really did not want to think about it. Not because he was wrong but because she did not want to think or admit all the things she desperately wanted him to do to her. 

Her phone buzzing pulled her out of the trance he had her in. Thank God, she thought to herself as she read the alarm on her phone. “Oh shoot, I better head home. I… host a book club on Wednesday evenings at the library.” 

“I’ll walk you out.” 

Raven was thankful to escape his bedroom, it was a danger zone for her and her thoughts. 

“So um… you have my number w-when you’re ready for a date. J-just give me advanced notice, if you can? You know if I need to adjust my work hours or something.” 

“How about Saturday evening? My team released the statement this morning and it's getting good play apparently so it’ll be good for us to post a picture or be seen out and about this weekend. We can start small with dinner, ease you into the spotlight.” 

“Sounds good. Just text me what I need to wear.”

“Don’t worry about that. They’ll pull an outfit and send it over to you.” 

“You sure? You really don’t have to,” she started to say before he cut her off. 

“It’s easier cause they’ll coordinate the look and make sure it looks good for photos. Don’t worry about it.” 

She made her way to the private elevator and hit the lobby button. 

Michael reached in and hit the P button. “Elevator will take you straight to the car, driver will meet you in the garage.”  

“Have him meet me out front. You said there’s always a paparazzi or two lurking around. Maybe they’ll catch me leaving?”

He raised an eyebrow, impressed. “You sure this is your first fake relationship? Already acting like a pro.” 

She laughed and shook her head. “No, I just want to make sure you get all the bang for your buck. I like to excel at every job I have… would hate for you to leave me a bad review with the fake girlfriend's business bureau.”

“Don’t see that happenin’ at all.”  

She thought the smolder was merely something actors did in movies. But here he was, smoldering and it made her want to rip her clothes off in the middle of his elevator and demand he fuck her. But she couldn’t. Self control. This was a transaction and she could not give into her desires outside the realm of payment. That would be dangerous. 

She cleared her throat, forcing her feet to take a step back into the elevator. “Ok, see you Saturday,” she offered awkwardly. 

However, before the doors fully closed, she stopped them. 

“Tying up is fine, just want a nonverbal cue if you’re gonna gag me and I can’t speak. I like pain but my pain tolerance isn’t that high so there’s a limit on what I can take. So if you’re like a sadist or something, we can go ahead and dead this. Oh and no bodily fluids aside from the ones that are naturally involved in sex, don’t make me explain what I mean… the stories I’ve heard,” she shuddered, causing Michael to laugh. “No hitting except spanking, of course. Choking is fine. And no threesomes or other people. Oh and I’m fine with no condoms, if we’re exclusive and you get tested for STIs and bring the results with you on Saturday. I will get one too. Oh and make sure the collar is padded or lined with something for my neck,” she clarified. “That’s all I can think of. I am willing to try anything else once and I’ll use the safe word if I don’t like it. How do those rules sound to you?” 

“That’s it?” Her list was perfect, aligned to his own personal limits fairly well. He would’ve expected more for someone so green. 

Raven seemed to pick up on his shock causing her to laugh. “I know the vibe I give off,” she admitted. “And I am all those things… innocent and straight laced. But you aren’t the only one with fantasies. You told me to get what I needed and I wanted. … I need the money and I want an escape from my reality, total surrender and escape with someone I trust to explore those fantasies with. And right now, that’s you.” 

He did a small double take at her words. “You trust me already? You don’t even know me.” 

She shrugged, for some reason, she felt as if that was not true. On some level, she did know him. Or at least, a piece of him. And that felt like enough… at least for now. 

 “I think I know enough. See you Saturday,” she smiled with a small wave, the elevator doors finally closing to take her to the lobby. 

Michael stood there in his living room, slightly dumbfounded. 

“This girl…” he whispered. He was already cursing himself for this ill conceived plan. He knew, at that very moment, he did not have the willpower to keep his feelings at bay for six months. The only question now was, how long would he last?    

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83

***

A/N: So we are in the thick of ittttttt. The babes are pining and entering in a fake relationship…. what could go wrong LOL the smut returns next chapter, promise! And we get their first real date.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged! Thanks for reading!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Michael Moore's Substack:

Right now, if you know how to really read the polls, or if you have access to the various private and internal polling being conducted by and shared only amongst the elites, Wall Street, and Members of Congress, then you already know that this election was over weeks ago. Trump simply refused to believe that “Sleepy Joe” was no longer his opponent and that there was instead “some woman” claiming she was “Black” who was now going to pummel him on Election Day. He soon became unhinged, ranted for hours about Hannibal Lecter, Haitians cannibalizing your pets, and a nonstop drone of oral diarrhea spewing misogyny, racism and essentially claiming that if he loses “it will be the Jews’ fault.” 

The vast majority of the country, the normal people, have seen enough and want the clown car to disappear into the MAGA vortex somewhere between reality and Orlando. The swift and explosive momentum for Kamala Harris is unlike anything that’s been seen in decades. Which is why maybe at this point in my rant I just need to say out loud that which is being said to me in private by people I respect — and not just in whispers, but in excited tones of exuberance: That a new era is being born, one where caucasian is just one of the options but no longer the bossy pants of the world. Where it’s OK if you’re missing the lower right quadrant of the second X chromosome thus making it a “y” which means you’re never going to have your own fallopian tubes so just deal with it and keep your hands off the gender who has them. Simple.  An aggregate of top polls as of today shows that Harris will defeat Trump in the Electoral College count by 270 to 268. But I think we need more. We need to ensure that Trump loses in a landslide, with numbers so massive, the likes of which haven’t been seen since the entire country tuned in to watch Geraldo open up Al Capone’s vault. Because that’s the only way to guarantee his permanent removal from the public eye. We should settle for nothing less. 

[...] Since losing the debate to Harris, Trump’s momentum has come to a screeching halt. Even with Vance “winning” the debate on Tuesday night with his “charm,” “civility,” “politeness” and “the“ “Satanic” “laser rays” “shooting” “out” “from” “his” “eyes” “into” “our” “brains,” it did not help change anyone’s mind. Harris continues on her rocket ship, never slowing down and only increasing her popularity each day. Trump’s voting base is now severely depressed and more and more they have that sinking feeling as they realize there is no way now for Trump or the Astros to win. BUT… You and I know that there are always ways for him to win. We just don’t know what they are because we don’t have “666” inscribed on our foreheads in invisible ink. We do know that Trump has a stellar streak of pulling off the impossible — and those who have written him off have more than once lived to see the day where they must eat humble pie. It is never wise to do a victory dance on the two-yard line when Trump is your opponent.  So, each of us must still do our work to get out the vote and, most importantly, make sure Harris has a Democratic House and Senate elected next month to pass her/our legislation next year.

Michael Moore has some astute analysis on who is favored in the 2024 Presidential Elections. Moore is predicting a Kamala Harris victory.

He predicted Biden to win 2020 and Trump to win in 2016.

[mikesgaylittlethoughts]

'when blue and yellow meet in the west' pt.2

I reached the image limit in the first post so season four will need it's own post.

First part is here!

⭑ Season 4:

Ah, yes, the lying, hiding and miscommunication season. This should be great.

El's outfit at the start has a lot of red, but still with some blue. Mike isn't around now, and she's being mostly true to herself at school, but that's the issue. People are mean as hell and don't like her for who she is.

She wants so badly to be seen as normal, to live the life of an ordinary girl, but even now she's seen as weird and unusual. At least one sweet detail i noticed is that the flannel she's wearing might have been Joyce's.

I also find it sweet how red has been incorporated into Will's outfits, too. It happened a few seasons back, and it's a nice detail considering how undeniably close he and El are.

Mike's in his Hellfire shirt. With El away, he doesn't feel the need to perform so much anymore, and feels more free to actively enjoy his interests and be himself again.

The day Mike came to California, El was, once again, wearing mainly blue.

And then there's.... Michael's outfit....

Mmhm. Yellow over purplish blue. This is the outfit for the awkward ass airport hug, and the entirety of Rink-o-Mania, until they get home.

After his s3 realizations, he went straight back to repression. Acting totally weird around Will and forcefully happy around El again.

While Mike wears yellow, Will wears blue.

Oh, also, the flowers Mike picked for El had "too much yellow", and "vomit green socks".

Mike's fight with El here is a super important scene to mention. He's wearing mostly blue with just a few yellow accents, but he's still lying to El, isn't he?

Oh, he's lying, alright. It's just not working.

El isn't running with it like usual. She's crying, confronting him about not being able to tell her he loves him and Mike's trying to convince her but even then, he can't say it. Eleven can see right through him. And the yellow... Well, I think we know why Mike can't say he loves her.

The monologue scene is the same case. About 0% of what he said in it was true, but El knows that. That's exactly why it didn't work.

This is when the pink starts showing up again, but there are still layers of blue to remove before it's free.

Mike and Will switch back to their respective colors again, and make up from their previous fights. Will wears blue and yellow, and Mike wears that blue shirt with that godforsaken sideways pocket.

These are the outfits they're forced to stay in for the rest of the season cause everything goes to shit afterwards.

Throughout the season, El sheds her blue layers, until finally, she's all pink.

She realized she doesn't need him and they're definitely going to break up next season. She's finally free and will finally get to be herself without molding her image to fit into what others think she should be like.

Now it's Mike's turn to free himself.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Okay, that was a lot! Once again, thank you @62percentmaplesyrup for all the help !!! I'll leave her posts linked down here if you guys wanna look for yourselves, it's a super interesting detail.

Here and here!

If any of you actually read through all of this, i really appreciate it. I worked on this for days on end lmao.

anyway byler endgame stay gay losersss

[the-stress-express]

Attention Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction Enjoyers!!

I have a snack for y’all!!

I’m in the process of writing the first chapter of my new Hazbin fic and I wanted to give you, my Lovelies, a sneak peek of the dialogue. (Although, it looks more like a script at the moment). Eh, whatevs.

——————

It’s going to be mostly centred around Lucifer, Michael, Sera, and Emily (although, other Hazbin characters, both canon and non-canon, will be in it as well).

For example, I will be including God in this fic. And I will say right now that my characterization and representation of God is NOT meant to be taken as religiously accurate or anything like that. You don’t have to like it, but I do ask that you please remain respectful in voicing your opinions.

Anyway…

Once I have most of it (or at least a few chapters) finished, I will be posting it on Archive Of Our Own (Ao3). I may also post it here for those who don’t use Ao3.

But without further ado, you can find my sneak peak under the cut. It’s a bit long but I hope you guys like it.

Enjoy, Lovelies!

START OF PEEK

Sera: Come now, Michael, pick up the pace. We mustn’t be late.

Michael: *Groans and yawns* Sera, where are we going again? Why are we going anywhere so EARLY? Heaven’s not even awake yet.

Sera: *Sighs quietly* I told you five minutes ago, Michael. This is the third time you’ve asked me now. *slighty raises an eyebrow with a frown*

Michael: Oh… right. *Looks down at the ground, looking a bit crestfallen*

*Sera turns back away from Michael as they continue walking, seemingly oblivious to his saddened state.*

Sera: Michael, this behaviour cannot continue. You must improve your listening. As Father’s Angel of Justice, one of His most important angels, someday you will be part of the Heavenly Council, the ones who are responsible for keeping Heaven safe and balanced. So, you need to take your role seriously. You should know that by now.

Michael: *frowns and stops walking, feeling embarrassed* I was listening. I just… kept forgetting. I’m sorry. *tears form in his eyes as he fiddles with his sleeves* I-I do take my role seriously, Sera. I r-really do.

*Sera’s eyes widen as she realizes what she said to him. She had forgotten how sensitive he could be when it came to criticism and how much he often took things to heart. How could she be so blunt? Yes, he would need to learn to take criticism, but was still just a young child.*

*But most of all, how could she forget? She knows what Michael is like. Other than God, she’s been the one mostly raising him.*

*A couple tears begin to trail down Michael’s cheeks as he looks to the ground in shame. A frown washes over Sera’s face as she kneels down in front of Michael.*

*She sure feels guilty now. She made him cry. How dare she.*

Sera: Oh, Michael. Please don’t cry.

*She cups his face in her hands and wipes away his tears with her thumbs.*

Sera: Shh, it’s okay, honey. It’s okay. I’m sorry for getting upset at you. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I just want you to be prepared to help govern Heaven in the future.

Michael: *sniffles* I know…

Sera: *Sighs* But even so, that is no excuse for accusing you of not listening and being careless on purpose.

Michael: *sighs and sniffles as he looks at the ground* I try act mature like you and the other angels. I try to listen when you all tell me things. I want to listen, but… I’m just too stupid.

Sera: *Gasps quietly* Oh… no, Michael… Michael look at me. Please. *He looks at her* Don’t say or even think anything like that ever again. That train of thought stops this instant. You are not stupid. You are smart, determined, and caring.

*Sera sighs slightly shamefully and closes her eyes*

Sera: You are also quite mature for your age, and I sometimes forget how young you are. That as much as you’ve grown, you are still a young fledgling.

Michael: *eyes widened* You forget things, too?

*Sera opens her eyes again and looks at Michael with a small, reassuring smile.*

Sera: Of course. Angels are some of Father’s greatest creations… but even we are not flawless. As much as we may try to avoid it, we will make mistakes. That’s just how it is. However, what’s important is being able to admit to our mistakes and to do our best to fix them. That is true divinity.

*Sera takes Michael’s hands in hers.*

Sera: So, again, I’m sorry for what I said and for getting upset. It was not your fault and it was not kind or fair of me to be hard on you and make you feel less than. You’re a child. You deserve to be treated with patience and dignity and shouldn’t be expected to behave as if you were an adult.

*A smile quickly spreads across Michael’s face as he finishes drying his face with his sleeve.*

Michael: That’s okay, Sera. I forgive you. *Jumps into Sera’s arms for a hug*

Sera: *smiles* Thank you, Michael.

*Sera hugs him back.*

Michael: Thanks, too. I’ll do my best to make Heaven proud.

Sera: You’re welcome, my little angel. I know you will bring honour to us all.

*More hug I guess lmao*

Michael: I love you, Sera.

Sera: I love you too, Michael. *breaks the hug with a smile and strokes his cheek lovingly before standing up* Now, come along. Father is waiting for us.

*Sera holds out her hand, offering it for Michael to take, which he quickly does. Realization then dawns on his face as his wings flap excitedly a couple times.*

Michael: Oh, yeah, that’s where we’re going. Father wants to show us something, right?

*Sera looks down at Michael with an endearing smile and nods.*

Sera: That’s right.

END OF PEEK

[starshipstories]

Man 2000s shows missed so many incredible opportunities for crossovers with other shows that matched their vibe. I'm once again thinking about how good a crossover between Burn Notice and Chuck could've been.

Imagine:

Chuck flashes on some weapons or something that points him in the direction of criminals dealing out of Miami. General Beckman sends him, Sarah, and Casey to Miami to deal with it

While attempting to thwart these bad guys, they come face to face with Michael Westen, currently undercover to help a client who wants these goons off the streets

Chuck flashes on him and realizes he's not who he says he is: that he's a super spy gone rogue (I'm thinking the Intersect has Michael's fabricated burned file)

Realizing that Chuck somehow recognizes him and is about to blow the op, Michael has to think quickly of an excuse to leave and negotiate a time to come back later, on his way out, he grabs Chuck and forcefully asks him who he is and what he knows

Sarah, who was waiting some ways away as Chuck's backup, jumps in to protect him and Michael and Sarah start fighting. Halfway through, Michael recognizes her and a truce is called

Sarah and Michael did a few ops back in the day

Realizing they're all on the same team, they go back to Michael's loft. Casey, Fi, and Sam join as well so everyone gets to know each other

Fi and Casey almost immediately bond over guns

Sam and Casey talk about cars

All of them join forces to take down the bad guys. Chuck is able to provide extra information that Michael didn't have from the Interesect and together they make up for the earlier botched op

At the end of the episode Michael remarks that he can obviously tell Sarah made the mistake of falling for her asset and she says "well so did you" and they both kinda chuckle and have one of those "well what are ya gonna do" shrugs.

Michael also asks Chuck how the Intersect works and if it could give him any info on who burned him and why. Chuck says it doesn't work like that. Michael gives Chuck some advice on the life of being a spy

Everyone parts ways as friends and Michael says sorry but I can't come help you if you need it, I'm literally stuck in Miami

You can't tell me these shows weren't perfect for this

[jinna-aka-ninja]

Calling Of The Souls ~ Poly!LostBoys X Fem!Reader Part 7

A/N: So I was asked by someone to be put on a taglist? I've never done that before, and I am HONORED! Thank you! I'll be honest at this point I'm just sprinkling in gifs I think are funny.

I made a Masterlist for this though!

Word Count: 2,433

“She’s not a... what?” Michael asked flabbergasted at the mere mention of this. Star had wanted to remove what she believed to be a curse so much, it was the one thing that she wished for help with. Hearing Y/N say that she wasn’t a vampire was too much for his muddled brain to handle at that moment.

“Michael. I just said it more than once! If I say it again I will be upset with you!” Y/N said to him with a sigh, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mad at you. I am, I am very mad at you; but I shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault you’re still human enough to fall for the effects of a succubus. She’s not the strongest one, but that is what she is. Vampire blood forced her powers out too early so she’s weak compared to most.”

It made perfect sense to Y/N; it was hard to believe that anyone else was not able to comprehend this information. “She wants to be human again when she never had been human to begin with. Her abilities are like that of a vampire... except she doesn’t feed on blood.” With the last few words she looked at Michael thinking that he should obviously know exactly what that meant.

Michael stared at her, open mouthed, making Y/N believe he was trying to come to terms with the information he gathered...except.. “What’s a succubus?”

“Michael. Have you ever been curious about the occult? Ever just looked into a random book in the occult section of the library? You really just don’t know the signs of things that are laid out in front of you? The moment you laid your eyes on Star, what led you to her? Your heart or your second head?” Y/N asked him feeling like she was talking to a child learning of the dangers of the world when it had already been far too late for them to save themselves.

“... You don’t understand Y/N. When I first saw Star that night, the way she moved to the music. When our eyes met and she looked away from me, playing hard to get. There was something that made me want to go closer.” His attempts to reason with his decision were failing him. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he felt. “I felt a pull to you too when I first saw you!”

A hiss came from Y/N as she took a sharp breath at his words, “Do not compare the pull of a bond to that of a half-assed Succubus’ lure.” She said to him feeling hurt and offended all over again. The nerve of this guy to compare the bond of a mate to something that was just pure carnal.

“How do you know about this stuff, Y/N? I doubt you just so happened to look at a book randomly to learn.” Michael said wanting an explanation to her knowledge.

“You were brought into this world of monsters you believed to be in stories and nothing more; I was born into it, raised in it. I know this stuff because it was taught to me from a very young age and through my years I have been learning more and more.” It was the honest truth, “You can’t tell the boys I know yet! I need to be the one to tell them now. If you just go and say it then they might think that I’m planning something..I just needed to come to terms with it too.”

“Come to terms with what? You didn’t drink from the cup, you aren’t a half vampire.” Michael groaned feeling like he was at a loss, and he was correct. He was at a loss.

Y/N felt sympathy for Michael. “I did try to stop you, but no, you had to be a part of the boys and just do what you could to fit in. Face it Michael, you’re more in love with the guys than you were Star.”

Maybe Michael hadn’t quite realized his own feelings yet because the look he gave Y/N was one that showed he was clearly not amused. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s 1987 Michael. There’s nothing wrong with it.” She said to him rolling her eyes. “Go home Michael. The sun is up and you’re going to pass out from the exhaustion. Don’t you dare let me find out you’re trying to find a way to break your being a half vampire. You were selfish enough to go through with something without thinking it through, don’t make the mistake of ruining the lives of others by trying to change fate.” 

With that, Y/N turned and walked off. Leaving Michael behind to go home and sleep. With this outcome she knew she had to tell the guys that she knew, but now how could she explain to Tyr that she had more than one soulmate? Worse so, that one of them wanted to try to break this being a half vampire.

From the distance she could hear Michael’s bike start up and speed off to go home. Y/N didn’t get far though. The sudden feeling of being spun around, hand in another hand, coming face to face with Tyr had her surprised.

“You’re awake. I thought you needed more sleep?” She asked him watching as the smile on his lips turned into a grin.

“I had enough sleep. You really think I’m going to let you wander around with vampires for long?” Tyr teased but that just made Y/N think of one thing. It’s freaking Daytime!

Y/N watched him, a trace of irritation flashing in her eyes. “So you showed up after the sunrise, to what? Protect me while they sleep?”

“What makes you think I showed up just now? I’ve been hanging around you since the diner.” The words Tyr spoke shook Y/N. If he had been around since the diner then he knew that she wasn’t with Michael, the half vampire, she was with four full vampires. “Did you know.. that when a human becomes a vampire, their soul dies. Not entirely, but most of it does. I told you they are dead souls Y/N. So why was it you were with four vampires and a little half vampire.. and then another half vampire showed up?”

There was no anger in Tyr. He was curious, worried maybe, but there was definitely no anger. It was wrong hiding something from Tyr. It felt so wrong, her heart felt like someone had placed weights on it and thrown it to sea.

“Because ... I think that I have more than one soulmate.” She said to him speaking the full truth, he deserved to know it. “I feel the things I feel to Michael to David, Paul, Dwayne and Marko. I don’t know why I do, but I do. A part of me thought I was wrong about it, but after tonight I know it’s true. I feel it.” Y/N was sure that he would deny this. That he would insist it to not be real.

“And the Succubus? Any chance she enchanted you into thinking they were your soulmates? Their power over the heart is strong.” Tyr was trying to find reasons to not believe her; knowing that Y/N wouldn’t tell him a lie straightforwardly. If she believed them to be her soulmates then that was what she really did feel.

This form of not believing it was better than him instantly trying to take her away from here. “No. I know how it feels to be enthralled by a succubus and an incubus. This isn’t that.” She assured him as they walked, hand in hand back to the home. “Will you meet them?”

“I have to meet them! How else will I see if I should kill them or not?” Tyr said to her, Y/N laughed thinking he was joking, but he didn’t join her making her laugh fade away.

“Tyr...” Y/N spoke looking at him with worried eyes as they reached the door.

He just opened the door and led her inside, “I’m not going to let you be placed in danger after everything I’ve done to keep you safe Y/N. If they kill you, if they hurt you... I’ll destroy everything.” The violence of an angry demon was unmatched by most, except perhaps a devil.

The only thing that Y/N could do was silently enter the home. She was sure that they wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. It would be unnecessary for her to mention this to him. “Tonight then, after you feed.”

Tyr shot her a grin as he went off to rest some more. He hadn’t fully recovered, but it was clear he didn’t want her out there on her own. Not when he was so sure that something dangerous was lurking in the dark. There always was, but this was something so close. Unavoidable. “Wait... WAIT TYR THATS MY ROOM! INSTIGATOR!”

Why was he an instigator? Because that made her have to sleep in his bed. Freaking Demons and their need to constantly create chaos in everything that they happen upon.

When the next night had approached Tyr was up before even she was. Tossing her clothes over her sleeping body. “Wake up! It’s time to make some vampires angry!”

“You know for someone who thinks they are the ones with dead souls, so far I think you have been instigating them more into showing their fangs.” Y/N said with a groan as she got up from the bed. “I’m not wearing this!” she said tossing the clothes to the floor after seeing what he threw at her.

“Good luck with that because I hid all your other clothes!” Tyr sang as he made his way out of the room. It was like living with a child sometimes. There were times Tyr had been sophisticated, walking with his head held high like the aristocrat he had pretended to be so long ago; but then there were the times he acted like a spoiled brat!

However, no matter how annoying he may be, Y/N would never trade him for anything in the world. He was her annoying demon.

The clothes he had picked up was a skirt and a sleeveless blouse, and his own coat. Simple but it was a freezing night out there and she would have to wear his coat if she was to stay warm. Or so he HOPED. She was going to freeze. Leaving the coat on the bed as she marched out of the house, Tyr hot on her trail behind her.

“I didn’t get to enjoy this place! I want to go to a concert!” He said to her taking a hold of her hand and rushing off. Y/N did not fail to notice him wearing the coat he had left for her now.

The walk to the boardwalk was uneventful. It was just a simple walk, when they did get there had been a concert playing. The entire time Tyr would not let go of her hand. Y/N had a suspicion that he was afraid she would run off on her own to find the vampires and he wasn’t wrong.

“You didn’t get tired of waiting for us to show up, did you?” a voice spoke from behind her making Y/N turn to see David looking at Tyr with what seemed to be anger.

“David...” The name came out sounding as if Y/N had been holding her breath and finally was able to breathe again. “No.. this is Tyr. My roommate.” She said to him trying to remove her hand from Tyr’s ironclad grip to no avail.

“Ah the one who has been sick.” Marko said walking up from behind David, Y/N watched as these guys seemed to almost appear out of thin air from behind David to stand behind him. “So he’s all better, more time with us now.” He said holding his hand out to Y/N, but as he did so his eyes never left Tyr.

She had told them before that Tyr was like family but with how he had been with her right then, they weren’t sure that Tyr had the same sentiment. Marko wanted her by their side before he felt he had no choice but to make a move against Tyr.

Y/N reached her free hand to hold Marko’s when she was pulled up against Tyr’s chest. Her eyes wide as she looked at him. “What the fuck are you doing?” she asked him.

Tyr wouldn’t have hidden his smirk if he could as he looked at the guys. Their faces seemed to grow dark with anger at the movement. “This is my first night up and about, I want to spend it with you Y/N. After spending all day in your bed, might as well spend all day out with you.”

“Bastard.” Y/N whispered under her breath in shock. He was really trying to provoke them. The four vampires’ nose twitched as they took a quick sniff. Sure enough, Tyr was coated in her scent, and she was covered in his. “I wasn’t in the bed! I was in his bed!”

“Is that any better?” Tyr asked her laughing at her attempt to keep things from escalating.

“Let go of me Tyr.” Y/N spoke quietly to him hoping to get him to listen to her before the guys felt the need to step in. Pushing him away from her, this time he did let her go as she fell into the arms of Marko. She had expected him to hold her back so she pushed more than she needed.

Marko’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her to his chest as if he was afraid Tyr would rip her from his grasp. “Thought you were just friends?” Marko whispered to her.

“Seems like he is a bit more than a friend.” Paul spoke out in a hiss, eyes still locked onto Tyr who shrugged his shoulders, that dashing smile still on his lips.

“Are you okay?” Dwayne asked Y/N, the only one who had not had his eyes locked in on Tyr but looking at her instead, concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine really. Tyr just likes to start trouble I promise.” Y/N said not wanting any misunderstandings, but it looked like it was all that Tyr wanted.

“Y/N please, undead blood suckers are not worth it.” Tyr said without a care in the world that he had just told them that he knew what they were, but in turn either she had known or she knew now.

I hope I am doing this right... TagList: @simplyreading96

[goodlucktai]

If you’re still taking prompts… disaster twins being disasters?

x

Casey can remember being this excited maybe once or twice before in his entire life, but that’s it. He doesn’t realize he’s bouncing in his seat until Michelangelo flops over him, arms folded around Casey’s shoulders and chin propped up on top of his head, grin present in the bright tone of his voice. 

“We might be hyping this up too much,” the youngest Hamato—second-youngest, now, Casey reminds himself somewhat shyly—says good-naturedly. “It’s just a spar, CJ.” 

“I know,” Casey says quickly, clamping his hands on his knees. He feels like a little kid again, being warned that if he can’t sit still he can’t stay in the dojo to watch training. That’s not anywhere near what Mikey said, but he’s not risking it! He refuses to miss this! “But it’s just—I haven’t seen sensei spar with anyone but Commander O’Neil in ages.”

He doesn’t say that Uncle Raph was killed when Casey was so young that he barely got to keep any memories of him. He definitely doesn’t say that when Uncle Tello died, sensei destroyed a string of Krang corps single-handedly, stumbled home half-dead, and then didn’t come out of the silent lab for three days. When he did finally emerge, some intrinsic, important part of him was gone for good. 

By then, Master Michelangelo was too brittle for physical combat, pouring all of himself into the mystic arts instead. April was the only one left who was unafraid to drag Master Leonardo onto the mats, to bring some life back into him. And it was fun to watch, but it wasn’t those high-energy spars he could remember being awed by when he was a child, when all four of the turtles were together and the apocalypse seemed like something they might survive after all. 

“I bet I whooped his butt, too,” April interjects loudly from the cozy-looking beanbag chair she dragged into the dojo. Leo shoots her a mock-offended look, hand over his heart, the whole nine yards. 

He’s wearing a pair of bright pink cordless headphones, and his warm-up stretches have a lot more energetic bopping around than perhaps strictly necessary. Raph is smiling crookedly as he guides Leo through the forms, watching carefully for any sign of lingering tenderness or soreness and finding none. He’s probably as relieved as all the rest of their mismatched little clan that Leo has healed to this point—casts and leg brace finally discarded, energy ratcheted up to eleven. 

Across the mat, Donnie is pretending to be buried in his phone, but he’s watching Leo as raptly as Raphael. If he thought for a second that Leo was nursing some hidden-away hurt, he would find a way to divert the match without anyone the wiser. And it would be something needlessly showy and stupid, too—Casey has the sudden vision of a lair-wide blackout. He pats the penlight clipped to his belt to make sure it’s there, just in case. 

But Leo is in fine form, and Splinter steps onto the middle of the mat with a judicious air. 

“Now I want a clean match, boys,” he orders, arms folded. “No shenanigans!” 

“Aw, not even one?” Mikey pipes up. 

The Hamato patriarch considers this carefully, then says, “I will allow ONE shenanigan!”

“Alright Michael!” Leo cheers. “Use those favorite son privileges for good!” He barely dodges the half-hearted strike from Splinter’s tail. 

Then Raphael is placing his hands on Leo’s shoulders and giving him a friendly jostle, in the manner of ruffling a puppy’s ears to get it all riled up (a life-affirming maneuver that Casey only recently discovered for himself one early morning coffee run with Cass when they crossed paths with a nice lady and her wriggly baby pit bull) and Splinter is stepping back off the mat and Donnie is sliding his phone away. 

“Let me know if you need me to go easy on you, little brother,” Donnie says magnanimously. 

“You hatched four minutes before me,” Leo replies. His tone suggests this is an argument they’ve had at least one billion times. 

“No one likes a sore loser, Nardo.”

April makes a coughing, cackling sound, and then shouts, “Someone get ready to do the heimlich! My man’s gonna choke on that hypocrisy!” 

“APRIL, you were adopted and you can be replaced!” Donnie shouts back over everyone’s laughter. Casey feels like he’s sitting in the sun, surrounded on all sides by warmth and light. He was raised on the scraps of a ruined world, the scraps of love and joy that his family had left to offer him. They gave him everything they could, but he knew they were digging into the bottom of the well. Here, those things are a renewable resource. All the good just stretches and stretches and stretches forever. 

Master Leonardo was not a bitter person. But he was very rarely a happy one. Uncle Tello and Rapha were gone and Master Michelangelo was aging rapidly before his eyes, three times as quickly as he should have. April and mom and all the faces that Casey saw everyday were weary and worn thin, constantly braced for the next horrible thing to come. 

It heals something in Casey’s chest that he didn’t know was hurting to see them like this instead. A festering, years-old wound finally draining, finally given clean air and room to heal. April’s still heckling and Mikey is still draped over Casey, sturdy and boyish and the brightest thing for miles. Raphael is leaning against the wall, grinning, as eager to watch the show as everyone else. Splinter looks unrelentingly fond and also like he’s expecting this to be a trainwreck. 

In the second before Splinter calls the beginning of the match, Donnie’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he says, “Wait, what are you listening to?”

A shit-eating grin stretches across Leo’s face, and in lieu of answering out loud, he lifts a hand and dramatically finger-spells K-A-R-M-A. 

“Oooooooh,” Mikey and Raph and April all chorus delightedly. 

“Oh, goddammit,” Donnie bites out, visibly preparing to fight for his life. 

Then Splinter’s hands come down and the twins burst into movement. There are no weapons in their hands, it’s nowhere near as showy as their fight with the Krang had been, but it’s amazing in its own way. 

They’re fast, much faster than the masters of Casey’s timeline because they’re so little in comparison, lean and lithe and all gremlin energy. The two of them move like they know each other as well as their own selves, the blocks and blows meeting as if they were choreographed well in advance, and every step is so quick and so clean that Casey can barely follow it. Five minutes in, Leo’s eyes glow white and then Donnie’s do, and Donnie barks out a surprised laugh. 

Mikey yells, “No inside jokes that’s not fair!” 

“It’s a nice break from that song. I've heard him humming it in the back of my brain all day,” Raph says ruefully, then quickly holds his hands up when Leo’s head whips around in his direction. “No offense! I like it! Just not—not 16 times in a row, big guy.”

Splinter steps in the instant Leo winces, having landed too heavily on his bad leg after a showy flip. 

“Alright, silly melons, that’s enough. Match goes to neither of you because you play too much.” 

Whatever complaint the twins might have made is entirely forgotten as they turn to face their dad blankly. Donnie says, “I’m sorry, did you just call us silly melons?” 

“Melons are green, yes? And stupidly expensive at all times for no reason.” He pulls a paperback book out of the inner fold of his robe and thumbs through it. “Children like nicknames. The experts have said so.”

Looking torn between helpless confusion and hysterical laughter, Raph says, “What are you reading, pops?”

“Melons cost like $8 in Chinatown when they're in season, where the heck have you been shopping?” Mikey interjects loudly, shooting over the back of the couch like spending too much of the grocery fund on overpriced produce is the first and final straw. 

“Seriously, Splints, what are you reading?” April asks, trying to get the book from him. 

“Silly melons??” Donnie and Leo demand again. Training for the day is entirely derailed, though that might have been Splinter’s ploy in the first place. 

Master Leonardo wasn’t a bitter person. Despite the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the losses he carried around in his heart, Casey’s memories of him are good and warm and only bittersweet because of those final moments, and because of how much Casey misses him every day. Still—even if he was careful not to let it show—Casey knows that Master Leonardo didn’t have a lot of opportunities for joy. 

That’s the thing that’s taken the most getting used to here, Casey thinks, watching everyone. That’s the difference his family makes. This Leo doesn’t have to reach very far for a reason to smile. 

He glances over his shoulder and his smile widens to include Casey, and Casey hurries off the sidelines to join the rest of them. 

[strawberrynightmere]

Can we get Yandere Andrew x Medical Intern! Julia reader?: Julia’s father pressures her into a date with a “friend’s son” (actually a hitman hired to kill Andrew in exchange for the date) as part of his secret organ-harvesting scheme (the whole toxisoda Bs) which Julia knows nothing about. The plan backfires bc Andrew is insane+ typical gore stuff of tcoal, Julia tries to fight him physically but she fails bc she isn't built for fight and she ultimately breaks down under the weight of her father’s manipulation. In the end, she chooses to handle Andrew’s insanity, realizing she loves him just the way he is, lowkey smut, No Ashley involved.

Bonus plus if you reader is implied to be Peruvian or from any other south American country ( I'm craving drama)

Alright, but I can't guarantee that it would go like you wanted it.

No Escape [ Yandere Andrew Graves x Julia! Reader]

TW⚠️: yandere tendencies, bate/hostage situation, threat, murder, gore (I guess, I'm not good with this), reader takes place of Julia, female reader, some smut/nsfw/nsft/18+, reader is implied to be south American (but I suck at writing it).

A/n: I apologize for taking so long, and for not really following the request, or for not understanding it fully, or for my writing. You can criticize me on it.

"I just broke up with him beraly a two months ago. Papa, I need some time before I start dating again." You've been going back and forth with your father over the phone.

"Time to do what?"

"To concentrate on college, my internship in the medical field, myself." You count out, hoping he would back off.

"Well, that's just selfish!"

"Papa, I want you to listen to yourself for a minute." You say dumbfounded.

"T-that's not what I meant. Listen, mi amor, I'm just asking you to give it a chance. He's nice. He has the looks, and he's rich! He works for that soda company. What was it called? Toxi-somthing?"

"Toxisoda? The company that is dealing with several lawsuits over many violations?" That was just plain suspicious, especially since your father was very vocal about his dislike for the company.

"Who cares about such small details! Beside, one's job doesn't determine if they're good. Just one date. That's all I'm asking from you."

You pinch the bridge of your nose in exhaustion.

"Fine."

"Wonderful!"

You really wish you knew what you got yourself into.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

This date has been the most uncomfortable experience in your life. First off, your date, Michael, fit your father's description; nice, handsome, and can afford to take you on a dinner at a five-star restaurant. However, there was something uncanny about him that made you stay on guard. Second, since the start of this date, you felt like you have been followed.

"I have an early shift tomorrow." That's a lie. "Let me pay at least half of the bill."

All in all, you wanted out as soon as possible.

"No need." Michael stops you, holding your wrist, hovering over the bill. "I'll walk you back to your dorm."

Rats!

You tried convincing him that you'll be fine on your own, but he was very insistent to walk you back.

So while you were walking, you tried to keep your distance, but Michael was uncomfortably close.

The feeling in your gut was justified when his arm wrapped around your neck as he drags you into an alleyway.

You tried to fight him off, but he pointed a gun against your head.

"Give it up Graves." Michael said, looking at a shadow cat by a building.

"Drop your weapon or I'll blow her brains out." He threatened, pressing the barrel against your temple, harder.

A metal clank, like a knife falling on the ground, was heard. And with a kick, a clever slides out of the shadow.

Michael's hold on you loosens as the gun was put down.

"That's what I thought-"

*Bang!*

You fall to the ground once you got free, crawling away from the corpse in fear of what has happened just a moment ago. Jumping in fear when a hand comes in contact to your shoulder.

And just like that, half of Michael's head was missing, with parts of it painting the wall behind you.

"Moron."

Green eyes, staring directly into yours. Those familiar green eyes.

You scream and try to run away but get pined to the ground. You tried to break out of Andrew's hold as tears start to pir out.

"No! No! I-... ha! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You don't know why you are apologizing.

You stpped struggling, body trembling, sobs die down when Andrew's hand gently caressing your face. "Shhhh... shhhh. It's alright. It's alright now." He pressed his forehead against yours.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Quiet gasps and moans are heard in your room, along with the sound of skin slapping. Andrew was on top of you, thrusting himself into you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you two kissed.

His thrusts were getting deeper, and the knot in your stomach was tightening. You hold him closer as his last thrust made you see stars.

Panting out of exhaustion, you feel Andrew's hand caressing your face and removing stray strands of hair sticking to it.

"Don't replace me again."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Uhh... the date didn't go well. No, papa, he didn't do anything. It's just- I don't want to talk about it.... Yeah, sure. I love you too, bye."

After you hang up the phone, you let out a sigh of releaf.

"Went well?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah." You say while going up to him and sitting on his lap. Laying your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead.

A/n: and another request done.