Amongst Demigods⁵

MAIN MASTERLIST

Remember that requests and questions are open

⤷ F1:

T. Wolff.

C. Sainz

C. Leclerc.

S. Pérez

M. Verstappen.

G. Russell.

L. Norris.

L. Hamilton

F. Alonso.

O. Pia stri.

⤷ PJO:

P. Jackson,

L. Castellan.

C. La Rue.

A. Chase.

G. Underwood.

⌞ I can write about more people, just send it to my requests! ⌝

⋅°₊ • ୨୧ ‧₊° ⋅

Home

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pairing: max verstappen x mom!reader

summary: after a long race weekend, Max Verstappen finally comes home to his wife and daughter.

The house was quiet when Max finally stepped through the door, the only sound being the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. It was late—too late—but he still found himself moving carefully, as if afraid to wake the sleeping peace that filled his home.

He had been away for nearly a week, racing on the other side of the world, and though he loved what he did, the absence of his family was something he never quite got used to.

And then, just as he was placing his keys down, a soft voice broke the silence.

—You’re home.

Turning, he found you standing at the hallway entrance, dressed in one of his old Red Bull hoodies, your hair slightly messy from sleep. Your smile was tired but warm, and just like that, the weight of the past days melted away.

Without hesitation, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You smelled like home, like everything he had been missing.

—I missed you. —he mumbled against your skin.

You chuckled, fingers threading through his hair. —I missed you too. We both did.

At that, Max pulled back slightly, a quiet question in his eyes. —Is she asleep?

You nodded. —She asked about you all day, though. Even tried staying up to see you, but you know how that goes.

A fond smile tugged at Max’s lips. His daughter, Brie, had inherited his stubbornness, but she was still too little to fight off sleep for long.

—Can I see her? —he asked softly.

Hand in hand, you led him down the hall to her room. The nightlight cast a soft glow, illuminating the small figure curled up under a blanket. Max crouched beside her tiny bed, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of her breathing, the way her little hand clutched onto one of her favorite stuffed animals.

He reached out, brushing a stray curl from her face. —Hey, meisje. —he whispered. —Papa’s home.

Even in sleep, she stirred slightly, as if sensing his presence. His heart clenched.

—You should get some rest too. —you murmured from the doorway.

Max exhaled, pressing a gentle kiss to Brie’s forehead before standing. —Yeah. But first, I just want to hold you for a while.

Back in your bedroom, he pulled you into bed with him, arms wrapped securely around you. For the first time in days, he could truly relax.

—This. —he murmured against your temple. —is the only podium I ever want to be on.

His lips brushed your ear as he whispered. —And when she’s asleep, I’ll show you just how much I missed you.

With that, sleep finally claimed him—safe, warm, and right where he belonged.

Wild Games

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pairing: lewis hamilton x singlemom!reader

summary: a single mom, two teens, and lewis hamilton love unfolds through laughter, UNO, and a game of Twister.

a/n: dont have any ideas, so please send requests 🗣‼️

There’s pizza grease on Dash’s cheek, Ari’s taken over the aux cable, and Lewis is laughing like a man who’s finally figured out where he belongs.

The board games are scattered across the coffee table, but Dash’s eyes gleam with mischief when he holds up the UNO deck like it’s Excalibur.

—You ready to lose, old man? —he says, grinning at Lewis.

—Oh, it’s on —Lewis replies, cracking his knuckles in exaggerated slow motion. —But I play ruthless.

You raise an eyebrow, slipping into the couch next to Ari. —So do I.

Ari smirks. —Let’s destroy him, Mom.

Lewis gasps, clutching his chest. —And you, Ari?

The first few rounds go light and fun, until Dash starts stacking +2s like a little gremlin. Ari counters with a Reverse, you hit Lewis with a +4, and suddenly he’s drowning in a sea of vengeance-colored cards.

—You people are animals. —Lewis says, half-laughing, half-suffering. —How am I the only one with 27 cards?

—Because you messed with the wrong family —Dash says with the air of a supervillain.

You’re all cracking up by the time Ari wins the round with a smug. —UNO… and out.

Lewis throws his cards down dramatically. —That’s it. I’m challenging you all to Twister. Let’s see how flexible these egos are.

Dash lets out a yell and dives for the game box before anyone can argue.

Minutes later, you’re on the floor. Literally.

The Twister mat is sprawled out, and the living room looks like it survived a soft tornado made of teens, limbs, and suppressed laughter.

Ari’s already out, she “accidentally” fell during a left-foot-yellow situation that she swears was sabotage.

Dash is hanging on by a toe and a prayer.

Lewis is next to you, way too close for someone trying to win, and somehow his left hand is barely an inch from yours.

—Right hand, blue. —Ari announces with fake menace from the side.

You reach. So does Lewis. Your hands land at the same time. His pinky brushes yours.

It shouldn’t matter.

It shouldn’t send a lightning bolt straight through you.

But it does.

And when you look up, he’s already watching you with that smile. The one he saves for when the kids are distracted. The one that says, we’re more than just this game.

Your heart skips.

You’re not sure if it’s because of the tension in your back or the tension in the air.

Dash loses it, like literally and figuratively, tumbling to the side with a dramatic grunt. —I’m out. My spine doesn’t bend like that.

Which leaves just you and Lewis. Face to face. Hand to hand. Heart to—

—Left foot green! —Ari yells, loving this way too much.

You move. He moves. The moment stretches.

—You okay? —he murmurs, barely audible.

You nod, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much.

Birthday Surprise

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pairing: toto wolff x wife!reader

summary: for toto birthday, his wife plans a private surprise, with decorations of balloons and soft lighting. What begins as an intimate and meaningful celebration quickly turns into an unforgettable night of love and passion, strengthening their connection.

warnings: fluff and suggestive.

The night had finally arrived. You had spent weeks planning the perfect birthday surprise for Toto, knowing he wasn’t one for big parties or noisy celebrations. He preferred quieter, more intimate moments. So, you decided to create a memory just for the two of you.

You had decorated the living room with an array of balloons in silver, white, and soft pastel shades. Some floated gracefully near the ceiling, while others were gathered on the floor in a scattered, whimsical fashion. The room was dimly lit with candles, casting a warm, golden glow. You had chosen the music carefully—soft, romantic tunes that would fill the space with the perfect atmosphere. Everything was ready for Toto to walk into the surprise you had meticulously prepared.

The cake was simple but beautiful, decorated with just the right touch. —Happy Birthday, my love. —the inscription read, and as you placed it on the table, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of anticipation.

The clock was ticking, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before Toto arrived. You texted him one last message, asking him to come home early. He had no idea that when he walked through the door, it would be to the most intimate, heartfelt birthday surprise he’d ever experienced.

When you heard the sound of the front door unlocking, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly adjusted your dress and turned off the lights, letting only the glow of the candles illuminate the room. You stood still, hidden from view, waiting for his reaction.

The door opened, and Toto stepped inside, his face lighting up as his eyes landed on you standing there in the middle of the room. The surprise was evident in his expression, but then his eyes softened as he took in the details—balloons, the warm light, and most importantly, you.

—You did all this? —Toto’s voice was filled with disbelief and affection. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving you.

—I did. —you replied softly, unable to hide your smile. —I wanted to make tonight special, just for you.

Toto approached you, his hands reaching out to touch your face gently, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. —You always know how to make me feel loved. —he murmured, his voice low and tender.

He closed the distance between you, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulled you closer. His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss, a kiss that spoke more than words ever could. You could feel the warmth of his body as he enveloped you, and the feeling of his lips against yours made your heart race.

As you pulled away, you smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. —Happy birthday, Toto. —you whispered, your breath shaky with the intensity of the moment.

His eyes were dark, full of desire and love. —You’ve already made this night unforgettable. —he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You led him to the couch, sitting down next to him as the two of you shared quiet moments, enjoying each other’s company. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

The atmosphere shifted. The music played softly in the background as you both sat close, your fingers intertwined. There was an undeniable tension between you two, a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist any longer. Toto leaned in again, capturing your lips in a deeper, more urgent kiss. His hands roamed, tracing your body with slow, deliberate movements, igniting a fire inside you.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. Every touch, every movement was a promise, a longing that had been building for far too long. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours as his hands slid under the fabric of your dress, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel the heat between you building, overwhelming in the best way possible. You pulled away for a moment, looking at him with eyes full of desire. —Are you sure? —he asked, his voice low, yet full of tenderness.

—I’m sure. —you whispered, pulling him back to you as your lips met once again, this time with more urgency. The surprise had been for him, but now, the night was for the both of you.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of passion and closeness. As the candles flickered out, the room was illuminated only by the soft glow of the remaining balloons. Everything around you felt like a dream, as if the world outside ceased to exist.

You and Toto shared a quiet moment afterward, both lying on the couch, his arm wrapped around you. You felt safe, loved, and more connected than ever before. As the night ended, you realized that the birthday surprise you had planned wasn’t just for Toto, it had brought you even closer, deepening the bond that had always been there between you.

Winter Steps

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pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: On a snowy Christmas Eve, Toto takes his long-time partner on a walk to a secluded frozen lake, surprising her with a heartfelt gift and a moment that solidifies their bond.

warnings: fluff, heartwarming moments outdoors

The snow fell softly, blanketing the trees and ground in a shimmering layer of white. Toto’s hand was warm in yours, even through your gloves, as you both walked through the narrow trail. Each step crunched lightly against the snow, the sound muffled by the serene silence of the forest.

—You’re sure this is the right way? —you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at him. His long strides forced you to take two steps for every one of his, but he kept his pace slow to match yours.

—Of course —he replied, glancing down at you with a smirk. —You doubt my navigation skills?

—I don’t doubt your navigation skills —you teased. —I doubt your sense of direction when you’re trying to impress me.

He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet forest. —I think you’ll forgive me when you see what’s ahead.

The trail opened into a clearing, revealing a frozen lake surrounded by towering evergreens. The surface of the lake glistened in the fading light, and the entire scene looked like something pulled from a snow globe. A small wooden bench sat near the edge of the lake, dusted lightly with snow.

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching at the sight. —Toto, this is beautiful.

—I thought you’d like it. —he said, his deep voice soft. He brushed the snow off the bench with his gloved hand and motioned for you to sit. —Come, it’s even better up close.

You sat down, the cold wood biting through your coat, but you didn’t care. The view was breathtaking. Toto sat beside you, his presence solid and comforting as he slipped an arm around your shoulders.

—How do you even find places like this? —you asked, leaning into him.

He tilted his head back, looking at the trees with a thoughtful expression. —During my runs. I discovered it last year and thought it would be a nice place to bring you.

—You found this on a run? —you laughed. —That doesn’t surprise me.

—Nothing gets past you. —he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

You stayed there for a while, watching the light change as the sun began to set. The sky shifted from pale blue to soft pinks and oranges, the colors reflecting off the icy surface of the lake.

—Do you ever stop? —you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

—Stop what?

—Being so thoughtful. —you said, turning to look at him. —It’s like you have this endless ability to surprise me.

He smiled, his dark eyes warm as he studied your face. —You deserve it. And more.

Before you could respond, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. Your eyes widened as he held it out to you.

—Toto…

—Open it. —he said, his voice unusually soft.

With trembling fingers, you opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a snowflake pendant. Tiny diamonds sparkled in the dim light, each facet catching the glow of the sunset.

—It’s beautiful —you whispered, tears pricking your eyes.

—I thought it suited you. —he said, taking the necklace from the box. —Strong, unique, and breathtaking. Just like you.

You turned around, brushing your hair aside as he fastened the necklace around your neck. His hands were steady, but his touch was impossibly gentle.

When you faced him again, his expression was unreadable, a mix of tenderness and something deeper. —Perfect. —he murmured.

—You mean the necklace? —you asked with a smirk, trying to lighten the moment.

—No. —he said, his tone serious. —You.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Then he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours.

—You’re everything to me. —he said softly.

The intensity of his words left you speechless, and you could only nod, your hands gripping his coat. —Toto…

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with the depth of his feelings. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours again, a small smile playing on his lips.

The moment felt infinite, the two of you wrapped in the stillness of the snow-covered world.

—Come on. —he said eventually, standing and offering you his hand. —I want to show you something else.

You took his hand, and he led you along the edge of the lake to a small clearing where the trees formed a natural arch. In the center was a lantern, its golden light flickering warmly against the snow.

—What’s this? —you asked, your eyes widening.

—Just another surprise. —he said, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

The two of you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the lantern, as the snow continued to fall. It felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you, and in that moment, you knew you’d never forget this day.

Hi!!!!! I wanted to remind you how grateful I am to you and the support you give me. Also to wish you a Merry Christmas ❤️‼️

Hiii, could you maybe write a Toto Wolff fic, where he’s super busy with work and stuff and forgets their anniversary or the reader’s birthday and she is like so close to leaving him, but he like can’t live without her and promises to be better?? Like very angstyyyy but with a happy ending. <333

The Time We Almost Lost

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pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: when Toto Wolff forgets one of the most important days in your relationship, his world begins to crumble as you decide you can’t keep being an afterthought.

warnings: Angst with happy ending!!

a/n: sorry for making this so short 💔

The silence in your shared home had become suffocating, its weight pressing down on you with every passing second. Once, this space had been alive, a sanctuary of shared laughter, quiet moments of intimacy, and conversations that stretched long into the night. Now, it was a hollow reminder of everything that had changed.

Your birthday had come and gone, unacknowledged by the man who once made it his mission to make every moment feel special. The once-vivid memories of his handwritten notes, surprise dinners, and whispered promises had faded into a distant ache. The untouched cake sat on the counter, mocking you with its cheerfulness, its candles still perfectly intact, waiting for a celebration that never came.

You had told yourself you wouldn’t cry. But as you sat alone, your hands clasped tightly around a glass of wine, the dam broke. Silent tears fell, their warmth streaking your cheeks as you stared into the empty room. How had you let it get this far? How had you become invisible in the eyes of the man you loved?

When Toto finally came home, it was well past midnight. You heard the soft jingle of his keys, the door creaking open, and the familiar rhythm of his footsteps in the hallway. A pang of anger shot through you, sharper than the sadness you’d been nursing all night.

He hesitated at the doorway to the bedroom, his tall frame silhouetted by the dim light from the hall. —Liebe? —he called softly, his voice laced with exhaustion.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your robe wrapped tightly around you, the charm bracelet you’d bought yourself resting in your palm. The anger you felt earlier was a simmer now, dull but present.

—I came home as soon as I could. —he started, his tone cautious as if he already sensed the storm brewing. —I know I’ve been…

—Busy? —you interrupted, the bitterness in your voice slicing through the air. You stood, fixing him with a glare that made him stop in his tracks. —Go on. Tell me how you’ve been busy.

Toto sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. —You know how much is going on with the team right now. I don’t want to make excuses, but…

—Then don’t. —you snapped, cutting him off again. —Because I’m tired of hearing excuses, Toto. I’ve been patient. I’ve tried to understand, but last night… Do you even realize what yesterday was?

He stared at you, confusion clouding his features. And then it hit him. His eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped as he whispered. —Scheisse.

Your chest tightened at the confirmation. —That’s it? Scheisse? —You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. —You forgot my birthday, Toto. You didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t even notice when I didn’t say a word all day. Do you even care anymore? Or am I just… someone who happens to live here?

His face crumpled at your words, guilt etched into every line of his features. —Of course, I care. You’re everything to me.

—Am I? —you challenged, your voice trembling. —Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been putting in all the effort, waiting for you to remember I exist, hoping for scraps of your time. But I can’t do it anymore, Toto. I can’t keep feeling this invisible.

He stepped closer, his hands outstretched as if reaching for you would keep you from slipping away. —Please, don’t say that. I know I’ve let you down, but I…

—You’ve let me down for months. —you interrupted, your voice cracking. —This isn’t just about last night. It’s about every night I’ve spent eating dinner alone, every morning I’ve woken up to an empty bed, and every time I’ve wondered if I’m even a priority in your life anymore.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of your words. —You are a priority. —he said, his voice breaking. —I’ve been so caught up in work, in trying to keep everything together, that I didn’t see what it was doing to us. To you. But I see it now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.

You folded your arms across your chest, trying to hold yourself together. —Words aren’t enough, Toto. I’ve heard them before, but nothing ever changes. I need more than promises. I need you to prove that I matter to you.

He nodded, his jaw tightening with determination. —I will. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… don’t leave me.

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes, shook you to your core. You wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that this time would be different. But the wounds he had left weren’t easily healed.

—You’re asking for something I’m not sure I can give. —you whispered. —You’ve broken my heart, Toto. And I don’t know if I can keep putting the pieces back together on my own.

His hands trembled as he reached for yours, his touch tentative. —Then let me help you. Let me be the man you deserve. I know I’ve failed you, but I’ll spend every day proving that you’re the most important part of my life. Just… don’t give up on us.

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken fears and fragile hopes. Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your tears spilling over as you whispered, —I don’t want to give up on us. But I can’t do this alone, Toto.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you might disappear. —You won’t have to. —he murmured. —I promise, you won’t have to.

 😻😻😻 

Christina Aguilera

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Anniversary gift & celebration for them. With their son, Jack. Up to you how it goes. Fluff and romantic . Thanks!! :))

a/n: considering i didn't have time until now to write, bcause ya know college, i immediately got an idea when i saw the request of how the story should go and wrote it in like two hours, don't think i ever wrote anything so quickly, hope you enjoy it!!<3

SAY CHEESE! //TW\\ one shot

pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

description: Usually, anniversary in the Wolff household are not celebrated, sickness, work or both tend to take up space. Now that they managed to have a peaceful anniversary, they’re going to make the best of it.

word count: 1957 words

warnings: none, the Wolff's being adorable, Toto being a prick (lovingly), a little suggestive

If it were up to you, you wouldn't wake up today even if you were to be dragged out.

It was your wedding anniversary, a day you always got off. A day to relax with your husband and son. But in the last few years, you didn't get to celebrate. Each year someone had to be sick or work had to be short-staffed.

So now, as you felt the bed next to you dip, a groaned escaped your throat. An arm slowly wrapped around you and lips lightly brushed your neck. Turning around, you were met with your husband's smiling face.

˝Good morning schatzi...˝ he said and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

˝Please, tell me no one is sick...˝ you mumbeled. He laughed.

˝Not this year, love. Although I think Jack is sick of sitting in the kitchen alone, while I'm here waking you up...˝he said and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist. ˝Come on, Jack wants to show us something and we both have to be there to see it.˝ he said, pulling you up. You groan in protest.

˝Can't he come in here and show us...˝ you heard Toto laugh as he kept pulling you out of the bed.

˝Get up, schatzi...˝ he softly said as you stood up. He wrapped you in his arms, whispering in your ear. ˝Happy anniversary, love...˝he said, kissing your temple.

˝Happy anniversary to you, too...˝ you whisper, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. You felt him hum against your lips, pulling you closer by the hips. The moment was broken by a shrill yell of both your names and you sighed. ˝As much as I love that kid, I sometimes wish we remained child-free...˝ Toto laughed and pulled you closer.

˝Don't say that... You know he's impatient...˝ he smiles into your skin.

˝Like his father...˝ You say, giggling.

˝I'm not denying anything... But, from what I remember, his mother was very impatient to get me to bed on our wedding night... Or any other night, really...˝ he teases and you smack him on the chest.

˝Such atrocities come out of your mouth when you are no different...˝you say, making him laugh. ˝Now, let's go see what our son needs from us, hm?˝ with one last kiss, the two of you make your way down to the kitchen.

The sight you were met with was beautiful. The kitchen island was filled with food and your son sat at the end, practically vibrating with excitement.

˝Mama, papa!!! You're up!!˝ he said, running up to hug you. ˝Happy anniversary, mama!! Papa explained to me this morning why it's important!˝he gushed as he kissed you on the cheek, smiling. You turned your gaze to Toto and were met with a soft expression. ˝Papa and I made breakfast! I helped with the eggs!!˝ he said happily, pulling you towards the counter.

You lifted Jack onto his chair and took your place at the counter. Toto placed a plate in front of you and you smiled at him. The waffles were shaped into hearts, and adorned with wild berries and cinnamon. He winked in your direction and you rolled your eyes.

˝What's the plan for today, hm?˝ you asked, taking a bite of your waffles.

˝I planned a photo shoot and thought we could go to the park a little... Then, your mother is picking Jack up and we are going out for dinner... Made our reservation a few weeks ago...˝ Toto said, sipping his coffee. You smiled. He turned to Jack and smiled at our son. ˝You said you had something to show mama and I something...˝ Our son smiled wide and jumped off his chair. He pulled out a piece of paper from his school bag.

˝SEE! I drew us at school! Here is papa, this is me...And here's mama!˝ he said with a wide, toothy grin. You smiled and lifted him up into your lap.

˝Look at you! You've gotten better at drawing honey. And you even managed to capture daddy's messy hair...˝ you kissed your son's cheek and looked up at your husband. He was smiling and shaking his head.

˝Good job, buddy. And don't listen to mama, she's just jealous of papa's perfect hair.˝ he moved to kiss your son's forehead, wrapping his arms around you both. You laughed at him, leaning up to kiss him. He smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. ˝How about we get ready for our photoshoot, hm?˝

˝I think that's a good idea... You two get dressed while I do my hair and make-up, then I'll get dressed and we can leave.˝ you said, putting Jack down. You gave Toto another kiss and went into the bathroom.

After about an hour, you walked out of the bathroom, wearing one of your favorite dresses and a subtle pair of heels. You could feel Toto checking you out as you finished getting Jack ready.

˝Jack, isn't mama looking absolutely stunning, hm?˝ Toto asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, lightly kissing your neck. Jack nodded vigorously, smiling wide. He laughed at his reaction, before whispering in your ear. ˝Can't wait to have you all to myself tonight...˝

You laugh at his suggestion, swatting at him.

˝Behave yourself... And stop crinkling my dress!˝ Toto smiles and moves away.

˝Ok ok...˝ he mumbles, leaving a light kiss on your neck.

The pictures were perfect—absolutely perfect. Jack's smile blinded anyone who looked at them, and Toto and you looked as gorgeous and in love as always.

After the shoot, the three of you made your way to a fancy brunch place Toto picked out saying: 'It would only be right if we went out and had a little snack while we're dressed up'. It was located in the middle of the park, surrounded by beautiful trees and colorful flowers. Jack got waffles and a hot chocolate, a little treat for being good at school. The two of you had coffee and a piece of cake to share, something you have done ever since your first date. It confused your son as to why you two had to share a piece, to which you smiled and told him 'He'd understand later'.

At home, your mother waited for you to return. She made herself coffee, took some of the waffles from the morning, and turned on her favorite show to watch.

˝I see you made yourself right at home, hm?˝ you giggle as the older woman turns to you. She smiled and stood up, hugging you once she came close enough.

˝Of course I did. Happy anniversary, my sweet girl... And you too, Toto...˝ she hugged Toto as well. She turned to Jack who ran into her arms. ˝And my handsome young man! How've you been, Jackie, hm?˝ your son giggled and hugged her, starting to ramble on about school and new kids he met. As he spoke, your mother subtly moved to the front door, winked at you, and left without a word.

˝So? Are you going to get ready for dinner?˝Toto asked and you looked down at your dress. He smiled. ˝I would suggest you change into that pretty red dress I got you to wear recently... It'll be more fitting...˝ he moved closer to you, grabbing your hips and kissing your neck. You hummed and raked your fingers through his hair.

˝I will if you let me go...˝ he chuckled at you and let go of his tight grip on your hips, letting his hands linger. You smile, making your way to get ready for the second time that day.

A little while later you walked out, red carpet ready. The wine red dress, black heels and sharp makeup... Toto was stunned. He knew you'd look gorgeous, but this was... Something extraordinary.

˝Mein Gott, schatzi... I don't even want to go out now...˝ he said, awe struck. You giggle and walked over to him. He grabbed your waist and smiled down. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you get on your tip toes and kiss him, his hands sliding down to your ass. You gasp, smacking his chest.

˝Toto!˝you say and move away from him. He huffs and smiles at you, grabbing both your coats. You stand with our back to him as he helped you get the coat on. Making your way to the car, Toto held the door open for you as you stepped into the Mercedes.

At the restaurant, he reserved a table in the corner of the balcony, looking over the vineyard. The candles on the table glowed romantically, casting a warm light onto your faces. Toto smiled warmly as you looked on over the railing.

˝Enjoying the view, love?˝ he asked softly, a hand coming closer to rest on yours gently. You turn your head to him and smile.

˝Yeah... I don't remember the last time we had any time just for us... Or the last time we celebrated our anniversary...˝ you answered and Toto laughed.

˝Remember when we did this once a week?˝ he asked and you laughed, tilting your head down.

˝Yeah... Can't believe that we came down to going on dates once in a blue moon... But I'm happy...˝ You say, smiling softly. Toto brings your hand up to his lips, leaving a soft kiss just as the waiter came with your wine. You giggled and thanked the waiter. ˝I love you, Toto...˝

˝I love you too, schatzi...˝ he smiled and kissed your hand once again. You smiled at him as well, moving your hand to cup his face.

The two of you spent the evening feeling more relaxed than ever, finally having a moment to properly talk. Everything was the topic. Work, friends, annoying family members... After dinner, you went out for a walk.

˝You know what this reminds me of Toto? Our first date...˝ you reminisce and giggle. Toto's laugh rings out, his head thrown back.

˝Mein Gott, I completely forgot what happened that night...˝ he whispered. He looked over at you and his eyes went wide. You giggled at him, seeing his reaction.

˝I was waiting to see if you would spill wine on my dress again... The red dress, vineyard date, a walk in the part after... trademark Wolff date... I didn't want to say anything to see if you'd realize... Seems you ARE getting old...˝ you laugh and stand in front of him, still holding his hand. He gasps and starts laughing.

“You are only 4 years younger than me, that makes you old as well!” Toto said, making you laugh.

The two of you soon reached the pond in the parks centre. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the waters surface, the air was crisp and the crickets created a subtle noise in the background. You shivered and Toto immediately wrapped his suit jacket around you.

“Can’t have you catching a cold now, hm?” He said, kissing your head. You smiled and shuffled closer into his side.

Your brows furrowed as you felt something hard press into your waist. You backed away and put your hand into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a velvet box. You looked up, only to be met with your husband, smirking down at you.

“Open it, schatzi…” he said quietly. Your manicured fingers fiddled with the little latch and as the box opened, it revealed a beautiful silver necklace with light green gems.

“Toto…” you whispered and felt his arms wrap around you.

“Happy anniversary, my love…” he whispered back and lightly placed his lips on yours, capturing you in a gentle and loving kiss.

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MIDNIGHT, THE STARS, AND YOU

a night of loving (with a view!) | 721 words

WARNINGS: sexual themes , fem!reader , riding , sweet talk

“it’s so pretty…so beautiful…” michael sighs out at the world. perfectly framed through the open balcony doors, billowing curtains, a fairytale fantasy made real just for the two of you. it wasn’t lost on you that he’s gotten to see this all his life, all the time. you finally understood why he could never get sick of it.

staring out at the calm blue night, the city lights, the hills and the paintings it could’ve made, your heart fluttered, taken over by all of its coolness, its beauty. and him, of course; tangled bare in each other, in the lushness of the hotel bedding. it felt like a most magical reverie.

you look out at the night, pressed cheek to cheek like in the old starlet movies, your eyes glinting with the night’s stars in them. he watches with soft eyes and presses his lips flat to your cheek, kissing there.

“everything with you is like a dream.” your eyes meet, his sharp brown tinted blue in the moonlight. when he laughs, you cross his shy giddiness with a giggle of your own, emphatically repeating yourself: “i mean it! everything.”

he smiles, his youth springing from him the way it did when he was a boy. “it all means so much more to me now that i can share it with you…”

the sweetness rolls out of his mouth and through your body like a field of flowers in the wind and his earthly hands run along the softness of your back, the comfort he nurtures silently goading you to kiss him. your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling your naked chests together. lips come together like they’d been made for the other’s, a gratitude escaping both your throats as it would in prayer. it’s beautiful like this, so right. the most perfect getaway. days of remarkable sights, local music, disguises to fool the public. nights of feasting; on the gorgeous food, on each other. you’d already gone a couple of delicious rounds this evening, you were practically bathed in the residual love.

your kiss deepened, and so did his need. that familiar heartbeat below, searched for reprieve. you look at each other, lips parted and glistening. silent permission meets a new look of want.

“can you…rub it on yourself?” he asks in a voice so low one might mistake it for timidness, but you know better. his desire, so ripe, awash over him. excitement heats your body instantly as you take him, hard and thick in your sweet hand, gently between your legs. oh… you moan low at the contact against your curls, rolling the slippery head taut against the bud of you. he lets out a long, savory sigh.

“do you like it?” you whisper shakily, eyes full with something caught between shame and surprise, arousal coloring your face all the same.

michael purrs in assent, teeth sunken into his lip, hips gyrating. “i love it. i love it, baby.”

you slide easy against him, warmer and warmer as he pulses harder, a delicate pang of need getting hotter against your body.

“that’s it, that’s it, baby, get it wet,” he utters under his breath, his guiding hand squeezing the flesh from your hip, the contact between your eyes never breaking…those darling brown eyes, round and wanting, laying all he needed on you with a mere twitch of an eyelash, long, pretty, and fluttering. you buck a little faster, totally blissed.

his breath quickens and his hand moves to cradle your lower back, almost stilling you completely. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice breathless and lustful—overcome with it. “c’mere…c’mere.”

you rock up onto his thighs and he slides his fingers between the two of you, his skin and knuckles growing sticky and wet. you raise your hips, chest meeting his chin, then lips as he kisses the bone along your sternum.

he rubs himself against the soft, slippery ache, beckoning you to take it again. with a whine you sink down wantonly, his eyes still trained on you diligently. love evident in the tenderness. your face contorts divinely, soon full to the brim with him, nestling perfectly along every pulsing vein. his name leaves you in a quivering moan and he kisses your jaw lightly.

“that’s it, darlin’.” he nods, bodies becoming one in the darkness. “want to see you come again.”

Midnight at Club 30

 Michael Jackson

Synopsis: Your loving husband is not as honest as he claims to be. Tonight, you find out exactly what he's been hiding.

Pairing: Mafia boss!Michael Jackson x fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: Some sweating. Michael is nonchalant here ewww

Drea's note: I had so much fun writing this! Constructive criticism and suggestion are welcome in my inbox. Thank you for the request, babe. <3

March 1st, 1932

22:00

You take a deep breath in as you examine your surroundings. You can’t believe you’re going on a date with a man your friend, Aubrey, set you up with.

It had been a long time since your separation from your long-time boyfriend. The split was painful. You remember it every so often; sometimes the emotions of the split build up at random times of your day, leaving you teary and shaking with sadness. He promised you the world. Maybe that was the first sign of his infidelity. No man promises a woman the world three months into a relationship. It was all bull from the beginning, but could you have known? You were in your late teens, naive and lovestruck. You couldn’t have known.

Now, here you are, in front of Club 30, in a shimmery black dress, draped with a white fur shawl and sleek golden heels. Your hair is beautifully done in a top bun with a few loose curls draped behind your ears. You fiddle with one of the multiple rings you have on, contemplating whether you should go in. You take in one final breath before pushing open the heavy oak doors, ready for whatever the late night has in store for you.

The bass of the jazz band rumbles through the smokey air as you walk in. You notice a large crowd on the dance floor. Their bodies rock from side to side to the rhythm of the 4-count music. To the left are several tables designed for an assembly of friends. The booths are decorated in a simple brown leather with each table covered with wine-red cloths designed to give you an intimate feel as friends conversation.

There are 4 young men there right now. Their head all turned to you. You give them a small smile which excites them butyou ignore it and look to your right. That way is the bar. That’s where you’re expected. You clear your throat and slowly walk to the bar before taking a seat on one of the many high barstools. The array of alcohol beautifully decorates the large wall before you. From wine to whiskey, it’s all gracefully shelved, disguising the liquid poison as something beautiful.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The bartender interrupts your thoughts. His smile was genuine and calm, indicating his expertise in customer service.

You return the smile, your red lipstick morphing into a gracious grin as you speak. “I’m not too sure what to order. Any suggestions?”

“Of course, ma’am. Do you have a taste for a sweet or bitter drink?” He leans on the counter, clearly taken aback by your allure.

“Sweet, please.”

“I would suggest a lemonade or strawberry daiquiri.” He looks you up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Strawberry, please.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as he nods before turning around to prepare your drink.

While the bartender works on your beverage, you fix your gaze on the large clock. 22:10. Aubrey had said your date would be by the bar by 22:00 but he’s not here yet. You decide to shrug it off and wait a little longer.

“Here you are, ma’am. A strawberry daiquiri.” He carefully slides the drink your way with a wink.

You take a long sip through the paper straw. The sweetness of the strawberry fizz compliments the thick rum. You’re quiteimpressed by the taste. Having never drank this before, your tongue enjoys every drop of it, and soon enough, you’re asking for another one.

22:30.

You huff.

“Are you expecting someone?” The bartender inquires, sliding you your second daiquiri.

“Yes, I am, but I’m afraid I’ve been stood up.” You take a sip of your drink with a frown.

“That happens here quite a lot, unfortunately,” he starts, “Just a few hours ago, an older lady sat here with me and waited for her date to arrive. Alas, he never did.”

You sigh and nod. Maybe the same fate had met you.

“Don’t fret. I’m sure he would have been a waste of time anyway.” He grins, tapping his fingers on the marble counter.

You nod again, accepting your circumstances. Instead of moping about your current fate, you turn to face the band across the bar. They play a more upbeat tune now. Something that has the dance floor cheering and whistling. The sight lifts your mood. Your head begins to rock to the rhythm.

“You should join the crowd, let loose!” The bartender encourages you.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you lean back to turn the suggestion down.

“Oh come on, ma’am. I’m sure you’re great at it. Plus, why come to Club 30 if not to dance? This is the place to dance, and I know*-”*

The bartender’s words are cut off as he notices the large oak doors open again. The thick, smokey air in the club shifts, as if it’s being controlled by something greater than it; something that makes the jazz band mess up rhythmic jam.

“Oh no. Tonight of all nights?” He whispers behind you and you fix your gaze towards the two large men who you assume are bodyguards.

Before you can respond, another man walks in. He’s dressed differently from the black-suited large men behind him. You glance at his white tailored suit. The expensive fabric hugs his slim figure perfectly, accentuating his toned arms and legs. Beneath his white suit jacket is a soft pastel blue shirt sleekly complimented by a white tie. His hair, curly, thick, and longis topped off with a white fedora. His presence has undoubtedly changed the club’s mood. What you cannot decipher is if this shift is a good or bad one. What you do know, however, is that his arrival has garnered the attention of everyone in the club.

As swiftly as he arrived, his bodyguards escorted him to the far corner of the club. He sits between them as if he is royalty of some sort. He examines the room, seated in the perfect place to see every corner of the club; to see you.

You hadn’t noticed that you were staring at him the entire time he had sat there until he finally fixed his gaze on you. With a nervous smile, you wave at him. He tilts his head, but before he can do anything else, his table is surrounded by a cluster of girls ready to throw themselves at him.

“I wouldn't if I were you. That man is trouble.”

You turn to face the bartender whose face is painted with concern.

“Why’s that?” You smile inquisitively.

“He’s known for doing shady business around these parts of Chicago. Rumour has it that he’s taken a life just outside the club, in the back ally”

You scoff.

“I doubt that's true. If it was, we’d see news of a death on the papers, no?”

Before the bartender could answer, one of the large men from the corner table tapped you on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, ma’am. My boss would like to speak with you.” The large man speaks with an even tone.

You look at the bartender who shakes his head in disagreement with the request, but you; not having anything better to do here; smile and stand up to follow the black-suited man.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” You reassure the bartender before you walk to the designated table.

A dozen eyes watch you as you make it to the alluring man. The girls that once squealed with excitement at his arrival now fix their eyes on you with bitter jealousy. That doesn't stop the white-suited man from motioning you to sit beside him. You slowly scoot your way onto the leather seat, sitting just a few inches away from him.

“Leave us.” He commands, and as if they’re filled with fear, the two bodyguards make their way to the dance floor. The girls, on the other hand, linger.

“All of you. Now.” His voice is stern now, his piercing gaze scaring the girls away with those simple words.

Now, you’re left alone with him. With nobody around, his scent floods your nostrils. A deep sage with a mix of vanilla surrounds him. What an intoxicating scent, one you could inhale for aeons.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone at this hour?” He asks.

His voice is surprisingly softer than the tough visual that he is. He shifts closer to you, closing the gap you had left before looking you dead in the eyes. His deep brown eyes glisten in the mellow lighting of the club. Something is confusing about those eyes. They appear so innocent, but something in them hints at a darker reality.

“I- I had a date tonight,” you fidget with your rings, “regrettably, he never showed.”

He takes a slow sip of his drink, which you’ll come to learn is whiskey. His gaze never leaves yours as he drinks.

“What a foolish man he is to leave a woman hanging like that, especially a woman of your…stature.”

You giggle. He loves that. The sound of your giggle eggs him on.

“My stature?” You probe and he nods.

“An enchanting woman like you shouldn’t be treated so poorly.”

You’re taken aback by his words. Looking away from him you fiddle with your rings. He notices this and gently places his hand on yours. You look at. It’s much larger than yours with veins travelling to and fro. You look up surprised and are greeted by a soft grin.

“The name’s Michael. Michael Jackson. Yours?”

Without a second to waste you tell him yours. His smile brightens at your response, a few crinkles surround his eyes as he smiles.

“It’s very nice to meet you, darlin'.” Michael whispers into your ear in a sultry tone, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Now, tell me. What nonsense was our little bartender telling you about me, hmm?” He leans back into the leather seat.

“That you’re trouble.” You shrug bluntly, tapping your slim fingers on the table before you.

“Oh really?” He motions for his bodyguard, “What kind of trouble did he say I am?

Before you answer, he whispers something to his bodyguard before shooing him away. You watch the large man walk to the bar.

“That you’ve done some shady business here and even…”

“Even what, darling?” He coos.

The bodyguard returns to you and places a strawberry daiquiri in on the tabl before turning and leaving for the dance floor once again.

“Thank you.” “You smile and take a sip. “He said you’d killed someone in behind this very building.

Your words provoke a loud chuckle from him. His head tilts backwards as he laughs, exposing his Adam's apple.

“As you can see, Louis over there has quite the imagination.” He clears his throat and drops his expression into something more serious. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me around these parts. People love to gossip about my occupation. They know nothing of what they speak of.”

You sigh a sigh of relief and drink the last of your beverage, continuing the conversation. He remains calm and collected, only sharing enough to keep you intrigued, but not sufficient to satisfy your curiosity.

September 14th 1935

Three years into your relationship you’ve come to learn that Michael would always be that way. Not even the fact that you’re his wife could change that. Anytime you ask about his work, he’ll give you a short answer. Nothing too specific, just enough to reassure you that he’ll be safe on the next business trip he’d be heading to. Lately, things have changed. Your husband had no longer told you where he was headed. He’d simply leave a note alluding to where he’d be and what he’d be dealing with.

To say you were annoyed by his behaviour is an understatement. You spent the past 3 months with your housemaids. They knew the ins and outs of your new grand home, the home you moved into with Michael when he married you two and half years ago. You grew friendly to them in the early stages of your marriage which you thank yourself for doing because you can ask them what exactly your husband gets up to while you’re asleep or away with friends and family.

“Two weeks ago, he had three men here. They were all dressed in expensive-looking suits, and we were all ordered to serve them with whatever they pleased,” said Diane with an admitting tone.

“And a month before that, he had a woman here,” Claire adds, “but worry not. He did not lead her to your bedroom or anything of that sort.”

You listen to them intently, your fists clenching and relaxing as they tell you just how much Michael has been hiding from you.

“Do you know where he’ll be later tonight? You two are the eyes and ears of this house. I’m sure you heard word of his night excursion.” You look at them both.

“Yes. Of course!” Diane speaks. “I overheard him talk to his chauffeur, Bill, about being at Club 30 tonight at 11 pm for some business.”

“Perfect. Once he leaves for that, be sure to have a car for me to follow him there.”

Diane and Claire nod and disburse as your so-called honest husband makes his way to the kitchen where you’re situated.

“Good day, darling.” Michael coos, placing a soft and long kiss on your lips. “What were you all discussing just now?”

You kiss him back and hum, knowing not to tell him the truth. “We were planning for our housewarming party tomorrow.

“Ah, I see,” he sits beside you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, “I’ll make sure to get all the alcohol needed tonight, okay?”

You nod and cup his face with your warm hands, “Thank you, my love. You’re a lifesaver.”

He smiles, rubbing your back slowly before turning his attention to the newspaper. You notice his jaw clench as he reads the front cover, so you turn to the newspaper.

“Two Bodies Found at The Docking Pier Near Club 30”

“Oh my,” you gasp, catching Michael’s attention, “Poor souls.”

“It’s shocking indeed, darling,” he says not because he means it but because he has to in order not to alarm you. You can tell he knows more about these deaths than he’s saying so you probe.

“When did they find them?”

“The morning of September 9th.” He answers as he continues to read.

“Were you not there the night before?” you lean closer to him.

“What Are you sayin’?” He slowly turns towards you.

You huff and look him dead in his eyes. ”Surely you would have seen something.”

Michael’s Gaze hardens and his hand clutches the newspaper tightly. It’s not the first time you’ve angered him this way. There have been times when you asked him about his whereabouts, noticing how they always seemed to correlate with the discovery of a dead body. This time, however, you prob further. Gone are the days when you simply say “Okay fine” and let it go. Today, You want to know as much as he’ll tell you, even if it means he’ll be infuriated by your unwavering questioning.

“Darlin’…” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Why would I know a thing about this.” He asks irritated, shaking the paper firmly.

“Because you were they the night before, no?” He nods. “And the paper says there was a quarrel around the same you when there for a drink.”

You observe his increasing anger, his breath getting deeper as he attempts to keep himself from raising his voice at you. One thing is for sure; he has something to hide, but he won’t dare yell at you. He knows better than to treat his woman with such fury. He would rather die than create room in your heart for you to fear him. If he did that, he would have failed as a husband, as a man, but God, were you pissing him off right now.

“Darlin’, I do not witness the fights that break out at the club. I’m gone by then.” He speaks bluntly.

“So why’d you come home so late that night?”

“Listen,” He snaps but quickly lowers his voice, “what I do in my spare time is not your concern. All you need to worry about is the goings-on of our home and yourself. Is that clear, Darlin’?”

His tone is stern as if to discipline you like a child. He’s never used such a tone while addressing you. You knew now that he was not telling you the complete story.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get ready for work.” That's the last thing he said to you that day before he disappeared out of the large wooden doors of your home to do God knows what.

19:00

Michael had arrived back from work an hour prior. He did not spend much time with you that evening, and soon, he was out the door. The only thing he said was that he’d be back with the alcohol for tomorrow’s housewarming. Why were you having a housewarming two years into moving here? You didn’t know, but that's not important. What's important is to figure out exactly what he has planned for the night.

23:17

“Mrs Jackson, the car is ready for you,” Diane whispers and you nod.

“Thank you, Diane. You and Claire be sure to take the day off tomorrow. We’ll have other servers here in your place.” Diane nods hastily at your words before she and Claire disappear into the servants’ quarters.

23:45

You thank the driver before stepping out of the car. Here you are, in front of Club 30 once again. It had been months since you were here, having feared that you’d meet the same fate as those two young men who were found dead this morning. That fear is now replaced with pent-up rage from your husband's lies. You were done with the secrets. Tonight, you’ll find out the truth, and nothing will stop you from completing that mission.

You walk into the ally and sneak your way into the club through the back door.

“Thank you, Louis. You’re a gem.” You give the bartender a soft kiss on the cheek as he helps you through the club’s kitchen.

“He’s here already. Two men came in shortly after him,” he blushed at the kiss, “Then two other men followed. They’re all seated together in his booth.”

You nod with a frown. “Do you know what they’re up to?”

“No, ma’am. They’ve had the jazz band playing to cover up their conversations, but the band will retire for the night soon.”

You follow him to the club’s end of the kitchen. To your surprise, the band has already left, leaving the five men, including Michael, to their own devices. Their conversation is clear as day. Both you and Louis lean on the door to listen in.

23:50

“How did they find the bodies?” Michael asks, his tone cold.

“We don’t know, boss. Don said he’d take care of it but-” One of the men tries to defend themself but is cut by the other.

“I never said I’d take care of anything!” You assume that is Don talking.

“Boss told you too! You always mess up the simplest jobs.”

“Enough!” You hear Michael shout as he delivers a loud bang to the table. “I will not tolerate such childish behaviour from anyone tonight. You all need to shut up and listen.”

A shiver runs down your back at his commanding voice. His soft-spoken nature seems to have shifted into something darker, something you didn’t recognise. Was this your husband? Of course, it was, but this was a side of him you were not acquainted with.

“But first. I must deal with something,” Michael begins, “Louis, bring her here.”

You dart your eyes to Louis, whose hand has already grasped yours, pulling you out of the kitchen and into the club's main room. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Michael stands before you, his curls messy and suit well-kept. He clicks his tongue and circles you slowly, shooing Louis away with a knowing nod.

“Now, what do we have here?” Michael speaks with a disappointed tone.

You’re frozen in place. The shock of Louis having sold you out fogged your mind. All you can do is dart your eyes as he continues the torturous dance around you. At that moment, you feel small. Like a rabbit waiting for the cheetah before it to pounce. 

“I- I can explain-”

Michael chuckles. “What happened to all that spunk you had interrogating me this morning, Darlin’? Was it all a front?”

You have no choice but to look down abashedly. You’ve been caught, your plans ruined by someone you thought you could trust. Oh, once you get out of here, you’ll be ripping Louis a new one.

“Come. Sit.” Michael grabs your arm and leads you to the booth. You fall onto the leather seat and face the four men who sit across from you and Michael on hard wooden stools.

“Explain yourself, darlin’.” He commands.

The anger you’ve bottled up finally spills over as you begin: “Explain myself? You have a lot of nerve to say such a thing! How dare you lie to me about your life to this degree? Shame on you! Shame on all of you in this room right now!”

You’re seething with anger, your hands clench tight around nothing, your jaw tight, and your brows furrowed. Your eyes roam your surroundings. The four men facing you don’t react to your words. One, however, smiles contently.

“I never knew your wife could yell like that, Boss.” Don smiles.

“Neither did I,” Michael admits, “You’re full of surprises, young lady.”

“And you’re full of shit!” You spit at Michael, provoking a twitch of disapproval across his face.

“Watch yourself.” He lifts a finger, reprimanding your outburst. “I know you want answers, but I will not accept such foul language, darlin’. Understand?”

You shake your head, cross your arms and look anywhere but him or his lackeys. “Speak.”

Michael chuckles at your attempt to be tough. “Oh, you’re too cute, my love,” he says as he sits beside you, “As you wish. What would you like to know?”

“Who are these men?” You start with a simple question.

“These are Tony, Don, Trevor, and Allen. They’re my cleaners, my boys.” He sips his whiskey.

“Cleaners? Meaning what?” You raise a brow at them and they all bow their heads in acknowledgement.

“What an innocent mind you have” He coos. “They clean up after me. You know, after I deal with someone.”

“What?” You raise your voice.

“We get rid of anyone he kills, Mrs Jackson. That’s our job, but someone didn’t do it right on Friday.” Tony hits Don on the heads

Michael shifts in the seat and shakes his head. “You are all so childish.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Your husband, the man you love is a killer. A cold-blooded killer. How did he never show any sign of this sick side to him?

“Michael, you’re a killer?” You look at him with your cheeks red.

“Darlin’, it’s much more complicated than that-”

“Then explain yourself” You snap.

Michael sighs before nodding. He stands up, holding his hand out for you to take it, but you don't. Instead, you stand and follow him to the balcony on the second floor.

00:00

The hustle and bustle of Chicago has slowed down significantly at this hour. As you and Michael stand outside, you hear a dog bark from afar and a car rumble through the empty road. This calm view of the city lights does little to nothing to ease your stress. It seems as though nothing he has to say with change how you feel in the moment.

“Listen, I know what you’ve heard is concerning to you, but I must assure you, my love, that You have nothing to worry about.”

“Is that so?” You huff. “How am I supposed to do that when you’re running the streets killing people?”

Michael lifts his finger to hush you. The last thing he needs is to have the patrolling police listening to your heated conversation.

“It’s not that simple, my love.”

“Simplify it for me,” You cross your arms.

“You won’t believe me, but alas, I’ll explain.” He leans onto the rails, lighting a cigar before taking a long breath of the smoky substance.

“Remember when I told you about my upbringing? My family always had to move from state to state.” you nod. “Well, that was because my father was involved in criminal activity. But you know that part.”

You remember Michael telling you about how his father was killed in prison by a gang he worked in opposition with.

“Go on,” you command.

“When my father died, my older brothers wanted nothing to do with the life my father led, so I took over as boss.” Michael wraps his lips around the cigar, sucking on it as it fills his lungs with the smoky air. He puffs rings of smoke out as he watches for your reaction.

“You're some kind of mafia boss? here, in Chicago?” You cough as the aftersmoke hits your throat.

All Michael can do is nod. His eyes stay fixed on you as you take in everything you’ve heard. 

How long was he going to hide this? What would he have done if you were in trouble? What did he expect you to do if he got arrested or hurt?

“I would never let myself get hurt, let alone put you in any form of danger, darlin’. I swear.” He reassures you with one hand on your face and the other holding the burning cigar

“You’ve already endangered me by not telling me this from the beginning.” Your voice cracks.

“How could I tell a stranger that I’m a criminal?” He runs his fingers through his curls.

“You’re calling your wife a stranger? Jee, Michael. I never knew you were this cruel.” Your head shakes as tears roll down your cheeks.

“Darlin’…I meant no harm. believe me.” Michael wipes a tear from your eye which does nothing to soothe your sorrow.

“I cannot do this right now.” You turn away from him.

“My love…” his voice falls small.

“You’ve lied to me for three years, Michael. Three years.” You sigh and take a step away from him. “I cannot bear to look at you without feeling betrayed. I cannot be around you right now.”

You walk away, leaving him on the balcony with a cigar in his hand and a tear threatening to fall from his beautiful brown eyes.

00:38

As you hastily pack an overnight bag, you look at your shared bed with teary eyes. The thought of you sharing a be with a killer haunts your mind and breaks your heart. You had to get away from here, from him.

Right now, nothing could stop you from seeing him as a monster, and that hurt to admit.

You married a criminal. You married a killer.

March 1st, 1932

22:00

You take a deep breath in as you examine your surroundings. You can’t believe you’re going to do this, going on a date with a man your friend, Aubrey, set you up with.

It had been a long time since your separation from your long-time boyfriend. The split was painful. You remember it every so often; the emotions of that day build up at random times of your day, leaving you teary and shaking with sadness. He promised you the world. Maybe that was the first sign of his infidelity. No man promises a woman the world three months into a relationship. It was all bull from the beginning, but could you have known? You were in your late teens, naive and lovestruck. You couldn’t have known.

Now, here you are, in front of Club 30, in a silky red dress and sleek golden heels. Your hair is done beautifully in a top bun with a few loose curls draped behind your ears. You fiddle with one of the multiple rings you have on, contemplating whether or not you should go in. You take in one final breath before pushing open the heavy oak doors, ready for whatever the late night has in store for you.

The bass of the jazz band rumbles through the smoky air as you walk in. You notice a large crowd on the dance floor. Their bodies rock from side to side to the rhythm of the 4-count music. To the left are tables designed for an assembly of friends. The booths are decorated in a simple brown leather, with each table covered with wine-red cloths designed to give you an intimate feel as friends converse.

There are five young men there right now. Their heads all turned to you. You give them a small smile, which excites them, but you ignore it and look to your right. That way is the bar. That’s where you’re expected. You clear your throat and slowly walk to the bar before taking a seat on one of the many high barstools. The array of alcohol beautifully decorates the large wall before you. From wine to whisky, it’s all gracefully shelved in a way that makes you forget that all those liquids are poison.

“Can I get you something to drink?” The bartender interrupts your thoughts. His smile is genuine and calm, indicating his expertise in customer service.

You return the smile. Your red lipstick morphs into a beautiful grin as you speak. “I’m not too sure what to order. Any suggestions?”

“Of course, ma’am. Do you have a taste for a sweet or bitter drink?” He leans on the counter, clearly taken aback by your allure.

“Sweet, please.”

“I would suggest a lemonade or strawberry daiquiri.” He looks you up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Strawberry, please.” You giggle and roll your eyes, and he nods before turning around to prepare your drink.

While the bartender works on your beverage, you fix your gaze on the large clock. 22:10. Aubrey had said your date would be by the bar by 22:00, but he’s not here yet. You decide to shrug it off and wait a little longer.

“Here you are, ma’am. A strawberry daiquiri.” He carefully slides the drink your way with a wink.

You take a long sip through the paper straw. The sweetness of the strawberry fizz is complemented by the thick rum.You’re impressed by the taste. Having never drunk this before, your tongue enjoys every drop of it, and soon enough, you’re asking for another one.

22:30.

You huff.

“Are you expecting someone?” The bartender enquires, sliding you your second daiquiri.

“Yes. I am, but I’m afraid I’ve been stood up.” You take a sip of your drink with a frown.

“That happens here quite a lot, unfortunately,” he starts, “Just a few hours ago, an older lady sat here with me and waited for her date to arrive. Alas, he never did.”

You sigh and nod. Maybe the same fate had met you.

“Don’t fret. I’m sure he would have been a waste of time anyway.” He grins, tapping his fingers on the marble counter.

You nod again, accepting your circumstances. Instead of moping about your current fate, you turn to face the band across the bar. They play a more upbeat tune now. Something that has the dance floor cheering and whistling with joy. The sight lifts your mood. Your head begins to rock to the rhythm.

“You should join the crowd, let loose,” The bartender encourages you.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you lean back to turn the suggestion down.

“Oh, come on, ma’am. I’m sure you’re great at it. Plus, why come to Club 30 if not to dance? This is the place to dance, and I know—”

The bartender’s words are cut off as he notices the large oak doors open. The thick, smoky air in the club shifts, as if it’s being controlled by something—something that makes the jazz band mess up rhythmic jam.

“Oh no. Tonight of all nights?” He whispers behind you, and you fix your gaze on the two large men who you assume are bodyguards.

Before you can respond, another man walks in. He’s dressed differently from the large, black-suited men behind him. You glance at his white tailored suit. The expensive fabric hugs his slim figure perfectly, accentuating his toned arms and legs. Beneath his white suit jacket is a soft pastel blue shirt sleekly complemented by a white tie. His black curls upon his head are topped off with a simple white fedora. His presence has undoubtedly changed the mood of the club. What you cannot decipher is if the shift is a good or bad one. What you do know, however, is that his arrival has garnered the attention of everyone in the club.

As swiftly as he arrived, his bodyguards escorted him to the far corner of the club. He sits between them as if he’s royalty of some sort. He examines the room; he’s seated in the perfect place to see every corner of the club, to see you.

You hadn’t noticed that you were staring at him the entire time he had sat there until he finally fixed his gaze on you. With a nervous smile, you wave at him. He tilts his head, but before he can do anything else, his table is surrounded by a cluster of girls ready to throw themselves at him.

“I wouldn't if I were you. That man is trouble.”

You turn to face the bartender, whose face shows concern.

“Why’s that?” You smile inquisitively.

“He’s known for doing shady business around these parts. Rumour has it that he’s taken a life just outside the club, in the back alley.”

You scoff.

“I doubt that's true. If it were, we’d see news of a death in the papers, no?”

Before the bartender could answer, one of the large men at the corner table tapped you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, ma’am. My boss would like to speak with you.” The large man speaks with an even tone.

You look at the bartender, who shakes his head in disagreement with the request, but you, not having anything better to do here, smile and stand up to follow the black-suited man.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” You reassure the bartender before you walk to the designated table.

A dozen eyes watch you as you make it to the alluring man. The girls that once squealed with excitement at his arrival now fix their eyes on you with bitter jealousy. That doesn't stop the white-suited man from motioning you to sit beside him. You slowly scoot your way onto the leather seat, sitting just a few inches away from him.

“Leave us.” He commands, and as if they’re filled with fear, the two bodyguards make their way to the dance floor. The girls, on the other hand, linger.

“All of you. Now.” His voice is stern now, his piercing gaze scaring the girls away with those simple words.

Now, you’re left alone with him. Without others around, his scent floods your nostrils. A deep sage with a mix of vanilla scent surrounds him. What an intoxicating scent, one you could inhale for aeons.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone at this hour?” He asks.

His voice is surprisingly softer than the tough visual that he is. He shifts closer to you, closing the gap you had left before looking you dead in the eyes. His deep brown eyes glisten in the mellow lighting of the club. Something is confusing about those eyes. They appear so innocent, but something in them hints at a darker reality.

“I had a date tonight,” you fidget with your rings, “regrettably, he never showed.”

He takes a slow sip of his drink, which you’ll come to learn is whisky. His gaze never leaves yours as he drinks.

“What a foolish man he is to leave a woman hanging like that, especially a woman of your…stature.”

You giggle. The sound of your giggle eggs him on. “My stature?” You probe, and he nods.

“An enchanting woman like you shouldn’t be treated so poorly.”

You’re taken aback by his words. Looking away from him, you fiddle with your rings. He notices this and gently places his hand on yours. You look at. It’s larger than yours, with veins travelling to and fro. You look up surprised and he shoots you a soft grin.

“The name’s Michael. Michael Jackson. Yours?”

Without a second to waste, you tell him yours. His smile brightens at your response; a few crinkles surround his eyes as he smiles.

“It’s very nice to meet you, darlin',” Michael whispers into your ear in a sultry tone that causes a shiver to run down your spine.

“Now, tell me. What nonsense was our little bartender telling you about me, hmm?” He leans back into the leather seat.

“That you’re trouble.” You shrug bluntly, tapping your slim fingers on the table before you.

“Oh really?” He motions for his bodyguard, “What kind of trouble did he say I am?

Before you answer, he whispers something to his bodyguard before shooing him away. You watch the large man stand at the bar, and the bartender fixes up a drink.

“That you’ve done some shady business here and even…”

“Even what, darling?” He coos.

The bodyguard makes his way back to you and places a strawberry daiquiri in front of you before turning and leaving for the dance floor once again.

“Thank you.” “You smile and take a sip. “He said you’d killed someone behind this very building.

Your words provoke a loud chuckle from him. His head tilts back as he laughs, exposing his Adam's apple.

“As you can see, Louis over there has quite the imagination.” He clears his throat and drops his expression into something more serious. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me around these parts. People love to gossip about my occupation. They know nothing of what they speak of.”

You sigh a sigh of relief and drink the last of your beverage, continuing, the conversation with Michael. He remains calm and collected, only sharing enough to keep you wondering.

14 September 1935

Three years into your relationship, you’ve come to learn that Michael would always be that way. Not even the fact that you’re his now could change. Anytime you ask about his work, he’ll give you a short answer. Nothing too specific, just enough to reassure you that he’ll be safe on the next business trip he’ll be heading to. Lately, things have changed. Your husband had no longer told you where he was headed. He’d simply leave a note alluding to where he’d be and what he’d be dealing with.

To say you were annoyed by his behaviour is an understatement. You spent the past 3 months with your housemaids. They knew the ins and outs of your new grand home, the home you moved into with Michael when he married you two and a half years ago. You grew friendly with them in the early stages of your marriage, which you now thank yourself for doing because you can now ask them what exactly your husband gets up to while you’re asleep or away with friends and family.

“Two weeks ago, he had three men here. They were all dressed in expensive-looking suits, and we were all ordered to serve them with whatever they pleased,” said Diane with an admitting tone.

“And a month before that, he had a woman here,” Claire adds, “but worry not. He did not lead her to your bedroom or anything of that sort.”

You listen to them intently, your fists clenching and relaxing as they tell you just how much Michael has been hiding from you.

“Do you know where he’ll be later tonight? You two are the eyes and ears of this house. I’m sure you heard word of his night excursion.” You look at them both.

“Yes. Of course!” Diane speaks. “I overheard him talk to his chauffeur, Bill, about being at Club 30 tonight at 11 pm for some business.”

“Perfect. Once he leaves for that, be sure to have a car for me to follow him there, please.”

Diane and Claire nod at your plan and disperse as your so-called honest husband makes his way to the kitchen where you’re situated.

“Good day, darling.” Michael coos, placing a soft and long kiss on your lips. “What were you all discussing just now?”

You kiss him back and hum, knowing not to tell him the truth. “We were planning for the housewarming party you and I are hosting tomorrow.

“Ah, I see,” he sits beside you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, “I’ll make sure to get all the alcohol needed tonight, okay?”

You nod and cup his face with your warm hands, “Thank you, my love. You’re a lifesaver.”

He smiles, rubbing your back slowly before turning your attention to the daily newspaper. You notice his jaw clench as he reads the front cover, so you turn to the newspaper too.

“2 Bodies Found at the Docking Pier Near Club 30”

“Oh my,” you gasp, catching Michael’s attention, “Poor souls.”

“It’s shocking indeed, darling,” he says not because he means it but because he has to in order not to alarm you.

You can tell he knows more about these deaths than he’s saying, so you probe.

“When did they find them?”

“The morning of September 9th.” He answers as he continues to read.

“Were you not there the night before?” You lean closer to him.

“What are you sayin’?” He slowly turns towards you.

You huff and look him dead in his eyes. ”Surely you would have seen something.”

Michael’s gaze hardens, and his hand clutches the newspaper tightly. It’s not the first time you’ve angered him this way. There have been times when you asked him about his whereabouts, noticing how they always seemed to correlate with the discovery of a dead body. This time, however, you probably went further. Gone are the days when you simply say, “Okay, fine,” and let it go. Today, you want to know as much as he’ll tell you, even if it means he’ll be infuriated by your unwavering questioning.

“Darlin’…” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “Why would I know a thing about this?” He asks, irritated, shaking the paper firmly.

“Because you were there the night before, no?” He nods. “And the paper says there was a quarrel around the same time you were there for a drink.”

You observe his increasing anger, his breath getting deeper as he attempts to keep himself from raising his voice at you. One thing is for sure; he has something to hide, but he won’t dare yell at you. He knows better than to treat his woman with such fury. He would rather die than create room in your heart for you to fear him. If he did that, he would have failed as a husband, as a man, but God, were you pissing him off right now?

“Darlin’, I do not witness the fights that break out at that club. I’m gone by then.” He speaks bluntly.

“So why’d you come home so late that night?”

“Listen,” He snaps but quickly lowers his voice, “What I do in my spare time is not your concern. All you need to worry about is the going-ons of our home and yourself. Is that clear, Darlin’?”

His tone is stern as if to discipline you like a child. He’s never used such a tone while addressing you. You knew now that he was not telling you the complete story.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get ready for work.” That's the last thing he said to you that day before he disappeared out of the large wooden doors of your home to do God knows what.

19:00

Michael had arrived back from work an hour prior. He did not spend much time with you that evening, and soon, he was out the door. The only thing he said was that he’d be back with the alcohol for tomorrow’s housewarming. Why were you having a housewarming two years into moving here? You didn’t know, but that's not important. What's important is to figure out exactly what he has planned for the night.

23:17

“Mrs. Jackson, the car is ready for you,” Diane whispers, and you nod.

“Thank you, Diane. You and Claire be sure to take the day off tomorrow. We’ll have other servers here in your place.” Diane nods hastily at your words before she and Claire disappear into the servants’ quarters.

23:45

You thank the driver before stepping out of the car. Here you are, in front of Club 30 once again. It had been months since you were here, having feared that you’d meet the same fate as those two young men who were found dead this morning. That fear is now replaced with pent-up rage from your husband's lies. You were done with the secrets. Tonight, you’ll find out the truth, and nothing will stop you from completing that mission.

You walk into the alley and sneak your way into the club through the back door.

“Thank you, Louis. You’re a gem.” You give the bartender a soft kiss on the cheek as he helps you through the club’s kitchen.

“He’s here already. Two men came in shortly after him,” he blushes at the kiss, “Then two other men followed. They’re all seated together in this booth.”

You nod with a frown. “Do you know what they are up to?”

“No, ma’am. They’ve had the jazz band playing to cover up their conversations, but the band will retire for the night soon.”

You follow him to the club’s end of the kitchen. To your surprise, the band has already left, leaving the five men, including Michael, to their own devices. Their conversation is clear as day. Both you and Louis lean on the door to listen in.

23:50

“How did they find the bodies?” Michael asks, his tone cold.

“We don’t know, boss. Don said he’d take care of it, but—” One of the men tries to defend himself but is interrupted by the other.

“I never said I’d take care of anything!” You assume it is Don talking.

“Boss told you too! You always mess up the simplest jobs.”

“Enough!” You hear Michael shout as he delivers a loud bang to the table. “I will not tolerate such childish behaviour from anyone tonight. You all need to shut up and listen.”

A shiver runs down your back at his commanding voice. His soft-spoken nature seems to have shifted into something darker, something you didn’t recognise. Was this your husband? Of course, it was, but this was a side of him you were not acquainted with.

“But first. I must deal with something,” Michael begins. “Louis, bring her here.”

You dart your eyes to Louis, whose hand has already grasped yours, pulling you out of the kitchen and into the main room of the club. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and fear as Michael stands before you, his curls messy and his suit well-kept. He clicks his tongue and circles you slowly, shooing Louis away with a knowing nod.

“Now, now. What do we have here?” Michael speaks with a disappointed tone.

You’re frozen in place. The shock of Louis having sold you out is still fogging your mind. All you can do is dart your eyes from left to right as he continues the torturous dance around you. At that moment, you feel small. Like a rabbit waiting for the cheetah before it pounces. Its heart thumps uncontrollably as it awaits its demise.

“I—I can explain—”

Michael chuckles. “What happened to all that spunk you had interrogating me this morning, Darlin’? Was it all a front?”

You have no choice but to look down abashedly. You’ve been caught, your plans ruined by someone you thought you could trust. Oh, once you get out of here, you’ll be ripping Louis a new one.

“Come. Sit.” Michael grabs your arm and leads you to the booth. You fall onto the leather seat and face the four men who sit across from you and Michael on hard wooden stools.

“Explain yourself, darlin’.” He commands.

The anger you’ve bottled up finally spills over as you begin, “No! You have a lot of nerve to do such a thing! How dare you lie to me about your life to this degree? Shame on you! Shame on all of you in this room right now!”

You’re seething with anger, your hands clench tight around nothing, your jaw tight, and your brows furrowed. Your eyes roam your surroundings. The four men facing you don’t react to your words. One, however, smiles contently.

“I never knew your wife could yell like that, Boss.” Don smiles.

“Neither did I,” Michael admits, “You’re full of surprises, young lady.”

“And you’re full of shit!” You spit at Michael, provoking a twitch of disapproval across his face.

“Watch yourself.” He lifts a finger, reprimanding your outburst. “I know you want answers, but I will not accept such foul language, darlin’. Got it?”

You shake your head, cross your arms, and look anywhere but at him or his lackeys. “Speak.”

Michael chuckles at your attempt to be tough. “Oh, you’re too cute, my love,” he says as he sits beside you, “As you wish. What would you like to know?”

“Who are these men?” You start with a simple question.

“These are Tony, Don, Trevor, and Allen. They’re my cleaners, my boys.” He sips his whisky.

“Cleaners? Meaning what?” You raise a brow at them, and they all bow their heads in acknowledgement.

“What an innocent mind you have, darlin’.” He coos. “They clean up after me. You know, after I deal with someone.”

“What?” You raise your voice.

“We get rid of anyone he kills, Mrs. Jackson. That’s our job, but someone didn’t do it right on Friday.” Tony hits Don on the head.

Michael shifts in the seat and shakes his head. “You are all so childish.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Your husband, the man you love, is a killer. A cold-blooded killer. How couldn’t you have known? How did he never show any sign of this sick side?

“Michael, you’re a killer?” You look at him with your cheeks red.

“Darlin’, it’s much more complicated than that—”

“Then explain yourself!” You snap.

Michael sighs. He stands up, holding out his hand for you to take it, but you don't. Instead, you stand and follow him to the balcony on the second floor.

00:00

The hustle and bustle of Chicago has slowed down significantly at this hour. As you and Michael stand outside, you hear a dog bark from afar and a car rumble through the empty road. This calm view of the city lights does little to nothing to ease your stress. It seems as though nothing he has to say will change how you feel in the moment.

“Listen, I know what you’ve heard is concerning to you, but I must assure you, my love, that you have nothing to worry about.”

“Is that so?” You huff. “How am I not to worry when you’re running the streets killing people?”

Michael lifts his finger to hush you. The last thing he needs is to have the patrolling police listening in on your heated conversation.

“It’s not that simple, my love.”

“Simplify it for me.” You cross your arms.

“You won’t believe me, but alas, I’ll explain.” He leans onto the rails, lighting up a cigar before taking a long breath of the smoky substance.

“Remember when I told you about my upbringing? My family always had to move from state to state,” you nod. “Well, that was because my father was involved in criminal activity. But you know that part.”

Your memory is sparked, and you remember Michael telling you about how his father was killed in prison by a gang member he worked in opposition with.

“Go on,” you command.

“When my father died, my older brothers wanted nothing to do with the life he led, so I took over as boss.” Michael wraps his lips around the cigar, sucking on it as it fills his lungs with the smoky air. He puffs rings of smoke out as he watches for your reaction.

“You're some kind of mafia boss? here, in Chicago?” You cough as the aftersmoke hits your throat.

All Michael can do is nod. His eyes stay fixed on you as you take in everything you’ve heard. How long was he going to hide this? What would he have done if you were in trouble? What did he expect you to do if he got arrested or hurt?

“I would never let myself get hurt, let alone put you in any form of danger, darlin’. I swear.” He reassures you with one hand on your face and the other holding the burning cigar.

“You’ve already endangered me by not telling me this from the beginning.” Your voice cracks.

“How could I tell a stranger that I’m a criminal?” He runs his fingers through his curls.

“You’re calling your wife a stranger? Jeez, Michael. I never knew you were this cruel.” Your head shakes as tears roll down your cheeks.

“Darlin’…I meant no harm. believe me.” Michael wipes a tear from your eye, which does nothing to soothe your sorrow.

“I cannot do this right now.” You turn away from him.

“My love…” His voice falls small.

“You’ve lied to me for three years, Michael.” You take a step away from him. “I cannot bear to look at you without feeling betrayed. I cannot be around you right now. I don't even recognise you anymore”

You walk away, leaving him on the balcony with a cigar in his hand and a tear threatening to fall from his beautiful brown eyes.

00:38

As you pack an overnight bag, you look at your shared bed with teary eyes. The thought of you sharing a bed with a killer haunts your mind and breaks your heart. You had to get away from here, from him. Nothing could stop you from seeing him as a monster.

You married a killer. You married a criminal.