"Power Play" //// The Lost Boys Imagines & Preferences - Book 3

Michael X Reader

You huffed out a frustrated breath, hands furiously wiping away the tears as the TV played one of those stupid show advertisements you hated so much. But, at least, the dim light of the bedroom reminded you that the day was over and you couldn't be more thankful because you were so done.

The sound of footsteps pierced through your thoughts, effectively catching your attention and before you knew it, Michael was in your room, eyes scanning your desk in a way that reminded you that this man, no matter how soft and tender he was with his loved ones, was, in fact, an extremely dangerous man. 

"Hey, sweetheart. Have you seen my - what is - Y/N, have you been crying?"

Instead of replying, you groaned in aggravation, burying your face in the pillow next to you.

"Michael, I swear if you make fun of me-"

Warm fingers wrapped around your waist and tugged, interrupting you. You took a deep breath and looked up, only to find those beautiful brown eyes already on you, concerned and soft. 

He'd never make fun of you.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?"

You gnawed on your bottom lip, thoughtful. You didn't want to burden Michael with everything that was troubling you, but you knew he'd disagree on that. Because he cared and he wanted to listen, just like you listened to him when he needed to get something off his chest. He wanted to be there for you and, dammit, in that moment, you wanted the same thing.

"Ugh. It's...Well, you know. It's a lot of little things adding up. Today's been, well, not great. And then..."

"Then that phone call happened." He said, empathy floating across his face.

You nodded, throat too dry to speak. 

"I just...Mike. I'm...."

"Ssshh." He cooed, wrapping his arms around you, cradling you to his chest. "S'okay, sweetheart. I've got you now." He whispered into your ear, then kissed the side of your head, lips lingering on your skin. 

Letting out a shaky breath, your grip tightened around his middle and he sighed, pulling away to face you, thumbing away the saltiness.

"It's going to be okay."

You let out a humorless chuckle.

"I know. But I have so many things to take care of and this, today, it sucks."

"It does. But I have faith in you. Wanna know why?"

You shook your head in content, and he smiled sweetly.

"Because you," he started. "-are awesome. You're an awesome, smart, sassy, kind, beautiful person and you're going to be just fine. And when you're not, I'll be there. Sammy will be there. We'll do anything to see you smile, pretty girl. Hell, I might even pole dance."

You laughed then, hoarse but real, and he grinned, pleased with himself.

"No. Please don't."

He kissed the tip of your nose.

"Only if you promise to let me take care of you. Let me fuss over you for once." He pleaded, cupping my face. 

You lifted an eyebrow, hesitant. 

"Just for tonight."

He chuckled, eyes lit up with adoration. 

"Just for tonight." He agreed, pecking your lips, letting the kiss go on forever. "I'll go cook something for you. Something nice. You can take a shower if you want. Unwind a bit. And then, we're watching one of those Marvel movies you love so much."

You hummed, kissing his jaw. 

"Promise you won't be jealous of Tom?"

"Please, I am not jealous of that mop."

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. 

"Mop? That's what you're going to go with? Cute."

"Not jealous." He scoffed.

"Are too." You argued.

He furrowed his brows, eyes narrowed. 

"Are not. And you know what? He's not the one who gets to sleep next to you tonight, so, from where I'm standing, I win."

His words made your heart swell.

Sweet bastard.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you locked eyes with him. 

"You're a weirdly, adorable guy, Mikey."

He smirked, all swagger and cheekiness.

"Like I said," he whispered, leaning in until his lips were inches away from yours. "I'd do anything to see you smile."

"Good." You muttered. "Kiss me."

And he did.

God, he really did.