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#ahs apocalypse imagine
rottenimagines · 1 year
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SCARS
Summary: What is the part of you that humiliates you the most?
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(Little disclaimer: English is not my native language, but I try my best, I promise x.)  
‘‘Take off your dress.’’
‘‘ ...what?!’’
‘‘You won’t get a second chance, Y/N.’’
‘‘Please…’’ you beg as a powerful wave of terrible memories arises in your mind, making you feel sick.
                                       (Take off all of your clothes)
‘‘Part of your cooperation includes a physical examination,’’ Mr. Langdon says and you nod in response immediately, too scared to go against him on this.
He stands behind you and unzips the back of your gray dress, slowly. You just close your eyes wishing the earth would swallow you. The dress falls to the floor leaving you just in your underwear. 
There are scratches and deep scars all over your back. Mr. Langdon runs his fingers through your injured skin.
 ‘‘Who?’’ he asks, hoarsely.
‘‘My stepfather.’’
He hesitates for a few seconds before speaking again.
 ‘‘And... did he get what his deserved?’’
‘‘I set him on fire with the same alcohol he spilled out in his sleep,’’ you spit with pure hatred in your voice.
‘‘Good’’, he says behind you. 
.....
...
‘‘... Have I passed the test, Mr. Langdon? C-can I put my dress back on?’’
He stands in front of you with a creepy smirk drawns in his face.
 ‘‘You’ve been a survivor all your life, why would it be different now?’’
‘‘Thank you.’’
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lostgirlfandom · 1 year
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Reunited
Pairing: Michael Langdon x Female!Reader
Warnings: mentions of an apocalypse, afab reader
Words: 1.1k
Summery: Michael finds his Queen in the last place he expected.
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Sitting in the office with a soft orange glow to the room from the fire place and candles spread throughout the room, your hands sat in your lap with your finger pads rubbing together in an anxious tick. Your eyes flicked from the man sitting at the desk, to the fire, to the candles... anywhere but at the man whose aura stunk of power and intimidation. His mid-back length golden hair looked like silk and made your hands want to run through the tresses, which is why you were trying to keep your hands busy. His sharp stare never left your form as he examined you... your hair down your face, lips twitching as he watched your eyes flick anxiously around the room. His eyes left a hot flush down your body as he kept watching you.  
After a thick silence befell the room for close to ten minutes, he broke the silence. “Y/N Y/L/N...” his smooth voice spoke surely and softly into the room. Sounding like butter as he spoke your name.  
You took in a slow breath as you looked up and finally locked eyes with him. He noticed your eyes dilate as you focused on his eyes... his beautiful eyes that made you melt and become submissive.  
Feeling your throat become dry, you blinked and swallowed the saliva in your mouth before licking your lips. “Yes, sir” You gave a delicate whisper.  
His lips twitched in a smirk as he tilted his head at you. “Why are you here?” He asked you. Leaned back in his desk chair, his arms on the arm rests as one arm lifted to place a hand to his face. His rings glinting in the fire light.  
Blinking again, you snapped out of the daze you were in and looked back down at your hands. Your hands grasped the purple dress you were basically forced to where for the last 18 months at the Outpost. “I...” You paused to take a deep breath. “I was told that I was chosen because of my DNA... that I had special genetics or something of similar nature.”  
The tone of your voice told anyone that was paying attention that you didn’t believe a word you just said. Langdon’s brow frowned as he observed you. Not that you noticed as your gaze was still on your lap. Your body language went from behind nervous and anxious to a little depressive but accepting.  
“You don’t think so?” He asked as his gaze stuck to your body.  
Your brow frowned and lips pursed before speaking. “I don’t know why I’m here to be honest, Mr. Langdon.” You took a small glance from under your eyelashes to look at him. “I had average grades in school, was working at Walmart before this shitstorm while getting an associate's degree. I’m not..” You took a deep breath and corrected yourself. “I wasn’t rich or poor...”
You paused as you examined his face as you slowly lifted your head. He licked his lips and then sighed. “Like Timothy and Emily, you were picked specifically for your DNA and good genetics... None of that stuff matters anymore... You are here because I hand-picked you and several others because you had prime genetics to survive. You were never sick growing up, were you?”
Tilting your head, you nodded. “Mom always said I-”
“Had a perfect immune system.” You both spoke at the same time. He nodded with a grin.  
“Exactly... And I think I picked you for good reason.” He left the comment hang in the air as he held your gaze, making your body flush. Twisting the fabric of the dress in your hands, you couldn’t look away from his eyes.  
“I-I-I" You slightly stuttered before biting your lip and looking into the fire.  
In a split second, you felt hands fall over yours. You’re head quickly turned and saw Langdon knelt in front of you, his hands softly pulling yours from the dress. The heat from his hands was soothing and calming. His fingers caressed your hands and fingers as you locked gazes with him again. A soft smile sat on his lips as he gazed up into your eyes. Flicking his eyes between both of yours, bringing your hands to his mouth slowly and gently. Pressing your knuckles to his lips.  
“You are here because I wanted you alive... Ms. Y/L/N.” His right-hand lifted to caress your neck with his thumb on your jaw, rubbing it gently.  
Your lips parted softly as your eyes because entranced with him again. You didn’t notice the fact that he was in front of you in seconds... or the fact that he was leaning up slowly... But you did notice his eyes that glinted and shined with adoration and glee towards you.  
Involuntarily, your eyes closed when his did and your lips met his. You took in a sharp breath at the feeling of his soft lips brushing yours, a tingling spreading down your spine causing goosebumps over your skin.  
Then images... no memories flashed through your mind.  
Memories of Langdon... Michael. How you first met, the time you spent together, the Black Mass, the time you first kissed and made love, the I love you’s. The fight between him and witches, them taking you away.
Coming back to your senses, you pressed back against him and cup the sides of his neck to kiss him desperately. Passionately, your lips danced with his. Pouring all the love you had for him into the kiss, him doing the same. Feeling the difference from moments before, joy spread through his chest. You both now feeling your hearts feeling full now... beating at the same time and swelling with love for each other.  
Breaking apart, you pressed your forehead to his and opened your eyes at the same time as him. Staring into his eyes, you felt your eyes well up with tears as you whispered out with broken words. “Michael.”
His own eyes welled up as his jaw clenched up. “Y/N... My Queen.” He gave a husky gasp before smiling widely. “This time... you’re not leaving my side.” Speaking with convection, he stood up and pulled you with him.  
You smirked at him. “Never, My King.”
Wrapping his arms around your waist while your hands went to wrap around his neck and play with hair just at the base of his scalp. “This time the witches die... at both our hands.” He smirked at you, seeing your eyes flash with fire.  
“No hesitation.” You whispered out before pulling him to press your lips to his hungrily. His grip tightening on your sides as he kissed back, devouring your moans as your tongues entangled.  
Neither of you noticed the candles and fire rising at the joint power of King and Queen of the Underworld finally reunited.  
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redroses07 · 2 months
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F**k It I Love You /// Michael Langdon
Michael Langdon x Fem!reader
Summary: Reader is a witch, but her and Michael seem to have a special connection. So what happens when her coven has to oversee Michael taking the test of The Seven Wonders. Will she stay loyal to her coven, or herself?
CW: Swearing, Kissing, Alludes to smut, Sexual themes, some violence.
WC: 3.2k
A/N: Hey guys!!! My first full fic after my year long disappearance!!! I really like this and I'm super excited to post it! I'll definitely make a part two if this does good, or upon request. With perhaps smut? Anyways I hope everyone is doing well!! Love y'all and as always, enjoy! ♡⋆˙
You sit in your lonely, over sized room at Miss Robichaux's academy, awaiting this afternoon's daunting task. You and the rest of the witches on the council, including Zoe, Myrtle, and Cordelia, were to visit Hawthorne school for young warlocks.
It was a place where none of the witches, including you, enjoyed visiting. Mostly due to the crude and pompous attitude of the warlocks towards you and your sisters.
It's not your fault that warlocks were naturally inferior to witches. Come to think of it you had never met a warlock who was so much as tolerable. Well...that is until a few months ago.
This particular visit to Hawthorne was something no witch, or warlock for that matter, had ever thought would come to pass.
For the first time ever, the test of the Seven Wonders will be performed on a warlock. A young man named Michael Langdon.
From the beginning Cordelia, your coven's supreme, had refused to perform this test deeming that it would be suicide. That was until Michael brought two witches, Queenie and Madison, back from the dead.
While this changed her mind, it also raised her concerns about Michael.
Cordelia had called a meeting with you and the rest of the council prior to your departure. She had described a darkness in Michael, one she had never seen in someone before. She described his energy as almost inhuman, something otherworldly.
"I am warning you all, proceed with caution." Cordelia had said.
While you smiled and agreed like you had been made to do, you had other thoughts on your mind.
You had connected with Michael from the moment you first met him, and in a way you had never experienced with another. Your fellow witches had been standoffish and dismissive to him, most likely feeling threatened by his power, you didn't feel the need.
He seemed to feel comfortable around you from the beginning. You didn't know if it was because you were the only witch who cared enough to treat him like a human being, or if there were other reasons. Despite that, conversation with Michael came easy, and the more interactions the two of you had the closer you became.
What was originally a simple act of kindness turned into prolonged eye contact and uncontrollable eye contact. The increasingly frequent visits to Hawthorne began to feel less like a punishment and more like a reward.
No matter, your sisters came first, which meant you had to push your growing emotions away.
Under any other circumstance you would be excited to see your friend, but the Seven Wonders weren't just any other event. Especially after Cordelia's warning, so unfortunately today was going to be stressful no matter what.
"Hurry up everyone, time to go!" you heard Cordelia call, annoyance in her voice.
You jumped up, not wanting to anger her further, fixed your hat, and headed down the stairs.
You, Cordelia, Zoe, and Myrtle all gathered in a circle in order to transmutate to Hawthorne collectively. Queenie and Madison also joined you, Madison wearing her iconic scowl.
You stood next to Zoe, your favorite among the council. Not that you disliked the other witches...but Myrtle was a little batty and Cordelia was well...Cordelia.
"Prepare yourselves sisters." Cordelia said softly, a serious look on her face.
Next thing you knew, your group was standing outside the strange structure that was Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men.
The six of you walked in, all trailing behind Cordelia.
You passed through the dark corridors, trying to hide the fact that you hoped Michael would appear around the corner.
When you and your magical companions made it to the room where the testing would take place you were greeted by warlock Ariel Augustus.
Out of all the warlocks you despised he was by far the worst, there was just something so off-putting about him. Yet you still shook his hand and gave him a half-hearted smile.
You gave the room a quick glance, looking for Michael.
"And when will Michael be joining us?" You asked Ariel.
"I would like to get this over as quickly as possible" You add, in an effort to seem disinterested.
Ariel looks at you with a sour face before looking over your shoulder towards the door.
"Well, it looks like you've got your wish because here comes the young warlock now." Ariel replies with distaste.
You turn around, and are faced with Michael's golden locks and icy blue eyes. He's wearing his usual, a long black cloak over his school uniform, yet he somehow manages to make the basic outfit look better than ever.
"Hello Michael." You say formally, keeping your serious composure. All while the two of you exchange a playful look, agreeing that these formalities are ridiculous.
Michael greeted you and the two of you drifted off to the far side of the room where you pretended to make small talk.
"God, this is so stressful." Michael says to you, breathing out a frustrated sigh.
Around others Michael had the tendency to put on a show, but never for you. With you, he was free of judgement.
"It'll be okay, just trust your instincts. You've got this." If Cordelia knew you were giving Michael advice you would surely be punished, but she doesn't need to know.
Michael shifted on his feet and looked at the ground, failing at hiding the blush creeping up his pale cheeks.
You almost reached out to give him a hug of reassurance but then remembered the others in the room. If you were being honest with yourself you really did have feelings for him, although reality told you that would never work out.
"Can we all just shut up and get on with this shit." Madison announced with an eye roll.
It was never a dull moment with her around.
"Yes, yes." Myrtle said.
Everyone took a seat as Cordelia began to explain the rules of the seven wonders.
You and Michael stood near each other behind a couch.
You figured since your lower bodies were hidden from the others it would be safe to reach out and squeeze his hand for reassurance.
You slowly put Michael's hand in yours and ran your fingers across his knuckles. His palms were sweaty. You truly believed you were the only one who sympathized with him on this, and you were glad you could give him that.
You and Michael made eye contact and exchanged a look of longing.
You broke the eye contact to look at Zoe who was giving you a look as if to say "stop what you're doing." She knew, of course she knew. Zoe was your best friend, of course she could tell when you liked a boy. Even if the circumstances were far more dire than your average high school romance.
You drop Michael's hand but he reaches back over and pulls it back, signaling "stay"
You sigh, what on earth were you getting yourself into.
"Okay, now if the rules are understood, we may begin." Cordelia announced, while scanning the room.
No one objected, and Ariel motioned for you all to follow him.
You felt the warmth of Michael's hand leaving you, and you were released from your own thoughts. You looked over at him to see him slowly walking towards the exit.
"Come on," Michael called back to you giving you a half-hearted smile.
You hurriedly caught up with him and the rest of the group, although the both of you remained at the end of the pack.
Ariel led you down a series of dark corridors. They all looked the same, and you began to lose count of the amount of turns you had taken.
Good luck getting out of here if you needed to make a break for it, you thought to yourself.
When you finally reached your destination, everyone gathered in the center of the large room. It looked just like every other room at Hawthorne, drab and dungeon-like. The only difference here was that it was larger and relatively empty.
Cordelia stood in the center of the room, a stern expression on her face.
"The first of the seven wonders, Telekinesis." She pointed to Michael, calling for him to join her in the center of the room.
You watched him as he walked towards her. He did almost too good of a job at hiding his nerves, walking with such effortless grace. You were almost envious.
Michael pointed to a candle hanging on the wall along the far side of the room. The candle quickly floated into his grasp.
The warlocks applauded, looking thrilled with his performance.
Telekinesis was the easiest of the seven wonders, and one any basic witch or warlock could easily achieve. So, naturally you and your fellow witches remained unimpressed.
"Next is Concilium, or mind control." Cordelia explained, gesturing for Michael to begin.
Michael also demonstrated this with ease, making Zoe and Madison perform a dance before everyone's eyes.
The next four Seven Wonders, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, and Vitalum Vitalus, were all demonstrated by Michael perfectly. Even better than yourself you had to admit, which was odd considering how inexperienced he was.
The further the test progressed, the more concerned the members of your coven looked. You were torn, as you usually were when it came to Michael. Part of you shared your coven's concerns, after all, a male supreme would change the course of all of your lives. The rational part of you did not ever want to see a world where the powers of a warlock surpassed yours. Yet another part of you, the part that cared for Michael, wanted him to succeed despite all other factors.
Although the hardest test of the Seven Wonders, Descensum, had yet to be tested. And you knew Cordelia wouldn't let Michael get off without adding a catch.
"Today, I'm not asking you to perform this wonder...I am asking you to conquer it." Just as you had expected, Cordelia was going to twist the rules.
Cordelia proceeded to ask Michael to retrieve the long lost Misty Day from the underworld, where she was banished after being unable to achieve the seventh wonder.
You glanced over at Michael, who stared Cordelia dead in the eye. You weren't surprised that he looked unfazed, he had in fact done this before when he brought Madison back from the dead.
Despite that, the warlocks were outraged, arguing with Cordelia about the task's unfairness.
"It's okay, I'll do it." Michael said calmly and definitively, shutting everyone up.
You gave Michael a concerned look, which he combated with a soft smile.
Michael laid down on the floor, getting in the position needed for the task. He began reciting the spell, which was a jumble of Latin words.
Michael then fell into a deep trance, signaling that the process of Descensum had begun.
Now all that was left to do was to wait.
You walked to the back of the room and sat in a chair next to Zoe and Queenie. You tapped your foot on the floor nervously, your heel making a repetitive clicking noise.
You waited in silence for about ten minutes, your eyes glued to Michael just in case.
"My god how long is this supposed to take, some people have things to do." Madison huffed, and as if on cue Michael shot up into a sitting position.
You, along with everyone else, rushed forward in anticipation.
"Where's Misty?" Cordelia demanded angrily.
Michael said nothing. He stared blankly at the wall, breathing heavily.
Before you could stop yourself you leaned down to check if he was okay, but just as you placed your hand on his shoulder someone's tight grip pulled you back.
"Watch out!" Zoe yelled, as she yanked you towards her.
You stumbled over your feet, nearly losing your balance. You looked below you and your eyes widened at what you saw.
Misty had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and right where you had been only moments before.
You were in shock, and apparently so was Cordelia.
She dropped to the ground and pulled Misty into a tight hug, tears falling from her face.
You looked over at Michael, who staggered back towards a table in the corner of the room. He looked exhausted, and you fought the urge to ask him if he was okay.
Your focus shifted when you heard Misty call your name.
The curly haired woman gave you a long teary eyed hug, and you only now realized how much you had missed her. You made a mental note to thank Michael for this reunion later.
"Cordelia!" Queenie yelled, and once again you were forced to shift your attention.
Cordelia was hunched over, blood running down her nose. She looked weak, like she had after seeing Queenie and Madison return.
"What's happening?" Madison shouted.
"What happens every time a new supreme rises, the old one begins to fade." One of the warlocks said proudly.
"You're a pathetic pompous ass!" Myrtle spat, pulling Cordelia close to her.
You followed her example and stepped closer to your supreme, putting your hand on her shoulder in reassurance.
"There is no denying it...Michael is the new supreme." Cordelia huffed before nearly collapsing to the floor.
You gasped, scrambling to help her back to her feet. Once Cordelia was stable again Myrtle and Misty carried her to a private room to help her recover.
"Well...I guess we will reconvene later." Ariel announced to the rooms remaining occupants.
As everyone began to file out of the room you saw Michael head in your direction. You began walking over to meet him when Zoe grabbed onto your arm once more.
She pulled you in the opposite direction and loudly announced, "Can I talk to you for a moment."
Before you had time to object she had pulled you out of the room and down one of the many dark corridors.
"Zoe is everything o-" She cut you off.
"Do you know how dangerous what you're doing is?" Zoe scolded.
Your stomach dropped.
"What do you mean..." you replied, acting clueless.
Zoe sighed in frustration.
'I'm your best friend, you think I don't see how you two look at each other?"
Dammit. Was it that obvious?
"Zoe, I know it's wrong. I know the coven will disapprove. I'm sorry. I'll make it go away, I promise." You sounded defeated.
Zoe pursed her lips. "Listen, I'm not saying you have to stop. I'm just saying be better at hiding it. Cause you know what will happen if Cordelia finds out."
You sighed, she was right. Cordelia would be furious if she knew, especially since she was already so suspicious of Michael. It would likely even be grounds for being burned at the stake.
"I'm just saying be careful is all, but other than that my lips are sealed." Zoe said.
You nodded in agreement and smiled at your friend.
"Be safe." Zoe hugged you quickly before walking off to go check on Cordelia.
You turned on your heel and walked down the hall, a long sigh escaping your lips.
As you turned the corner you felt someone's strong grip pull you down a darkened hall.
"What the hell-"
You looked up to see Michael looming above you.
"Jesus, Michael you scared me." You gasped, hand on your fast beating heart.
"I heard everything, everything Zoe said to you." Michael said, his piercing blue eyes burning into yours.
Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.
"Michael. She's right you know. I mean my coven hates you, what would they think?" You explained.
"Shhhh.." Michael whispered as he brought his index finger to your lips.
"I don't care, what we have is more important."
"Don't you agree?"
Michael took your hands in his and brought them to his chest. He looked at you in a pleading, almost desperate way.
"Michael, I-" You said unsure of your actions. You knew the consequences of betraying your coven, but were you ready to embrace them? you didn't know.
"Please..." Michael stammered.
You felt his hot breath against your already warm skin. The strong scent of his cologne filled your nostrils. everything about him was irresistible, it was all just too much.
"I can't wait any longer. I need this, I need you." Michael said.
That was it for you.
"Oh just fuck it." You said before pressing your lips harshly to his.
You pulled Michael down by the front of his shirt to better adjust to his height.
The kiss was short lived, but that didn't stop you from wanting more.
Thankfully Michael felt the same because he reached for the nearest door and opened it, pulling you inside.
He kissed you sloppily and hungrily as he yanked you through the doorway. He slammed the door behind you while continuing to kiss you.
"Is this a closet?" You asked, looking around at the small space.
"I believe so..." Michael replied, smiling at you.
You laughed and kissed him again.
Michael pushed you into the corner while kissing you slowly. He bit down on your lip, drawing a significant amount of blood. You let out a soft moan as Michael sucked at the small wound.
Michael broke the kiss and gazed at you lovingly.
"God you're so beautiful."
You smiled, trying to hide your flustered reaction. He made your heart do back flips.
Michael kissed you on the cheek, then your lips again.
"Everyone's probably looking for me, I can't be gone too long. After all I am the supreme now." Michael said with a smirk.
"Just a few more minutes please." You whined, pulling him into you.
'Well, I guess I can make time for you." Michael kissed you harshly as if this was the last chance he'd ever get to.
His hand snaked down your back and stopped to tightly wrap around your waist. You couldn't hear anything except heavy breathing from the both of you.
You reached up, lacing your fingers through Michael's hair. You pulled at the long blonde locks.
Michael put his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up around his waist. This gave his easier access to your neck and chest, which he began pressing desperate kisses to.
Michael nipped and sucked at your neck and parts of your slightly exposed chest. Only then did you feel something poking you beneath where your legs were wrapped around Michael's waist.
"Well someone's excited." You stated.
"What can I say?" Michael laughed softly.
You smiled, rolling your eyes at his sarcasm.
"Want me to take care of that for you?"
Michael's face turned red, clearly embarrassed. As much as he tried to hide behind his 'bad boy' persona, he truly was just an awkward guy.
"As much as I'd love that it'll have to be another time. Unfortunately I have more important things to take care of." Michael sighed.
You frowned, disappointed. He was right.
"How about this. Tomorrow night we meet, and we can finish what we started." Michael inquired, tracing his finger across your jawline.
You smiled,
"That works for me."
On that note you and Michael exited the cramped closet. But before stepping out into the hall Michael pulled you in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around you lovingly, and you sank into his touch.
"I love you." Michael whispered so quietly you could barely hear him.
"I love you too." You replied with no hesitation.
Michael kissed you on the forehead before stepping out into the hall.
"Till tomorrow, my love." Were his parting words as Michael disappeared around the corner.
You laughed to yourself, what an adventure this was going to be.
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multific · 4 months
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Hail Us
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Michael Langdon x Reader
Summary: A short Christmas tale.
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You moved to your knees in front of the cross.
You prayed.
You prayed for good fortune, for health and peace.
Hail Satan.
You prayed for your husband's plans to go smoothly. You prayed for your soul to be damned along with his. 
And in return, you will continue to praise your only and true Lord, Satan.
Hail Satan.
You already gave yourself and your entire life to his son, Michael.
You did so because of love.
As simple as that was. Love.
You stood up and took another look at the upside-down cross.
With a smile on your face, you turn around only to see Michael standing behind you.
"My father must truly like you. You pray and he gives. I feel as if he likes you more than me, his son."
"He sure has a soft spot for me. But I believe it is fair. I am his daughter-in-law and I help you achieve your dreams. No need to be jealous."
"I'm more jealous that you spend time on your knees praying to my father instead of me." you smiled as you moved over to him, running your fingers down his defined cheekbones.
"I'm rather hungry, can we eat?" your distraction always worked.
Every time you were hungry, tired or thirsty, Michael was immediately on his feet, ready to help you.
Michael made sure you had the best meals.
"What did you pray for this time?" he asked during dinner.
"For him to grand my wishes. For us to be together forever. For our future to be filled with death and pain. Just like I always do." 
"You are so perfect. I still can't believe they thought you wanted to be on their side."
"My future is by your side. They were only a stepping stone for me to find you."
Michael smiled, recalling his youth and how much pain it caused him, but ever since he found you, he was more than okay.
"Merry Christmas, My Love." he raised his glass and you did the same.
"Hail Michael Langdon," you replied with a smirk.
"Hail Y/N Langdon, the bride of the Anti-Christ. The witch who's name brings fear into everyone's soul. The woman who made me into a real man, to live to my potential and be who I was always meant to be. Hail us."
"I love you so much, Michael."
"And I love you, Y/N."
The snow was falling outside as you continued your dinner.
And indeed, what a Christmas it was.
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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I would like to thank Evan peters parents from the bottom of my heart for having sex and making Evan peters.
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He looks so much like his mom. They literally have the same face and beautiful black eyes ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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babygorewhore · 10 months
Note
For the text series: can you do one about how they are when they are sexting? lol
These are so fun lol.
The Evan’s texting edition. Sexting.
Warnings! Sexually explicit things. Obviously.
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Evan Peters.
“Hey there, sexy. You look so good.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome, babe. Your eyes would look so good looking up at me as I wrap my hands around your neck…”
He would be so shy lol.
Tate Langdon.
“Mmm, baby. I just want to serve you. I’ll do whatever you want. Kiss you, touch you, taste you. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”
“You’re such a good boy, Tate.”
“Come home. Let me take care of you.”
Kit Walker.
“Damn, who gave you permission to look that good?”
“Kit. That was lame.”
“It wasn’t lame last night when I had you bent over the counter.”
“KIT!”
Kyle Spencer.
Okay I feel like Kyle would be like.
“I wanna duck.”
“Duck?”
“Truck.”
“What?”
“FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Jimmy darling.
Mr. Smooth talker.
“Mmmm precious. When are you going to bring that pretty face here? That little mouth of you would look so much better here and open.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Of course, baby girl.
Kai Anderson.
When isn’t he sexting you? The problem would be getting him to stop.
“Hey. I’m at the store. What do you want to eat?”
“You.”
“Kai. I’m being serious.”
“Oh, me too. Little lamb. I want you splayed on the dinner table as I eat that little pussy.”
“STOP IT. IM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AISLE.”
“That’s you’re problem, princess.”
James Patrick March.
Murder daddy would be really classy with it.
“Oh, my little bird. When are you coming back? My lips miss yours…JPM.” Homie would straight up write an entire romance novel in your texts.
“James. I know it’s you. Calm down. There’s no one going to steal you’re identity.”
“You can never be too sure.”
“JPM”
“JAMES!”
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floral-and-fine · 2 years
Text
Red Heart
Michael Langdon x fem reader
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summary: At the end of the world, the Reader finds herself in Outpost 3 with nothing more than a name. With no memories of her life before, stuck living underground with strangers, and only ally seemingly being the militant Ms Mead, she's surprised by the instant connection she has with the member of the Cooperative that arrives one day without any prior warning. It's not long before her past and ties to him are revealed.
warnings: some of the usual dark content like murder and killing, I guess. Surprisingly no smut, just fluff and romance.
a/n: This is my longest fic ever so far! I combined a new idea with an old idea. There are 2 different endings, which is another first for me. With both endings, the story is roughly 28,500 words. I’m thinking about writing a smutty one shot for Michael soon. Thank you @ewokiee and @steeevienicks for the help.
“So,” Evie started, arching her brow. “You really have no memory of your life before?” She pressed, her eyes looking you over as she sized you up.
The two of you were sitting on one of black leather couches during cocktail hour. 
“Afraid not,” you muttered with a slight shrug. 
“Hm,” she looked away, taking a sip of her drink. “Must make adjusting to all this,” she gestured to the room and the other people present while sloshing her glass of mineral water around. “Easier… Nothing from your past to miss, no previous life to long for.”
“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”
It was true, you couldn’t remember anything from your past. You didn’t even have any recollection of arriving at The Outpost. Two weeks ago, you had woken up in your room here, unable to recall anything except for your name. Ms. Mead was the first person you met, she had given you a quick rundown of where you were, what had happened, and the rules of Outpost 3 while she helped you change into a formal violet dress. 
But Evie had a point, as the days passed the others became more strung out and restless, Coco’s hair changed daily, Gallant’s mood swings were more extreme, and they all complained from morning to night. 
But, when they would speak of the world before the end, you had to admit you were a little envious. They’d talk about foods you’d never likely taste, weather you’d never feel, places you’d never see… having no memories was a blessing and a curse. 
However, your curiosity was stronger than your envy, which is why you often found yourself sitting next to Evie, so you could listen to her stories. She was always happy to speak about herself and her past exploits. 
Suddenly, two strangers entered the music room. You straightened out the skirt of your dress, your fingers running across the purple silk as you sat up straight. It didn’t go unnoticed that the two strangers were both dressed in purple as well. 
You had quickly learned its significance in this new world. Purple meant you were part of the elite and that was your only clue to who you were before. You wondered if you had been an heiress like Coco or an actress like Dinah. But you had your doubts. Even Evie often commented that you were far too kind, too humble to have been anyone with any real clout or power. Which left you wondering why you were here, really, if you paid your way like the rest. 
Eager to speak to new people, everyone stood up to greet the new meat. Gallant was quick to approach them and ask them questions about what the world above was like. 
“It’s all gone,” the boy stated solemnly. 
“Everything,” the girl added. 
Ms. Venable soon joined the group, announcing it was time for dinner. Everyone followed her out to the dining room. 
You took your usual seat and quietly waited to be served by the grays. You remained seated as Coco threw her fit over having to eat another cube. You jumped slightly when Ms. Venable struck Coco’s face. You hadn’t seen her lose her composure like that and it frightened you. 
When Ms. Mead had shared with Ms. Venable that had no memory of who you were, she had questioned you repeatedly. You could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think you belonged. Ms. Venable believed you were unworthy of being a purple and hadn’t earned your spot here at this sanctuary. You were sure she was looking for a way to dispose of you. 
Your eyes remained downcasted as Ms. Venable addressed the group. She shared that three of the outposts had already been overrun, there was only enough food for 18 months, and that the world above was beyond repair.
The Fist and a few other members of The Cooperative entered the dining room, The Fist whispered something to Ms. Mead. 
“There’s a problem,” Ms. Mead shared. “We've detected a spike in the background radiation, centered in this room.”
Immediately Gallant pointed a finger at the newcomers who insisted they were clean.
“Place your hands on the table,” Ms. Mead directed, calmly. “And don’t move.”
Ms. Mead gave you a small reassuring smile as she came around with the Geiger Counter. Despite how the rest of the group felt about Ms. Mead, you found her presence comforting like you were safe with her around. 
You watched wide eyed as Gallant and Stu were dragged away from the table. Moments later Ms. Venable dismissed you and the rest of the group. 
You retired to your room and immediately started the shower to let the water heat up. Ms. Mead’s words about radiation and its effects were still swirling around your head. Stripping out of the dress, you left it on the floor as you bathed, washing every inch of your body. 
The next day, you and the rest of the group learned Stu’s fate. Andre was inconsolable, sobbing as he mourned over the death of his lover. 
At dinner everyone was surprised when instead of bland tasteless cubes, soup was served. Ms. Venable referred to it as bonne bouche.
You pushed the meat around with your spoon, you had to admit it smelled appetizing. Everyone else delved in, rejoicing over the flavor and taste. A few questioned the source of the meat and  where the meat came from, but Ms. Mead insisted that it was chicken. Yet no one seemed truly convinced. 
You were about to take a bite when Andre found a bone in his bowl. He quickly pushed his bowl aside, identifying the bone as a finger, immediately claiming that Stu had been served. 
Most of the others reacted with disgust, silverware clattering on the table as they began retching and spitting the stew out. Andre leapt from his seat, swept up in an emotional outburst. 
Ms. Venable attempted to reassure the group, stressing that there were some lines that should never be crossed. 
Evie was the only purple unphased and continued to eat. 
You calmly placed your spoon back down on your napkin, watching as the rest of the purples filed out of the dining room. 
As you joined them in the music room, they were still talking about the strange supper, arguing over whether it had been Stu or not. Andre was still distraught as his mother tried to comfort him. 
The arguing came to a halt as Emily shushed everyone when the music suddenly stopped. Gallant rushed to the radio as the song had changed. For two full weeks nonstop Karen Carpenter's voice had droned on and on, but now a new voice rang out. 
‘There's got to be a morning after
If we can hold on through the night’
Gallant mistook it as a sign of hope, a message sent directly from The Cooperative that there was hope for the future, but 18 grueling months had passed since then.  
Evie had run out of stories to tell. Andre’s tears had dried. Dinah’s advice had become stale and repetitive. 
The days had all blurred together, then the weeks, then the months. Everyday was just like the last. You were desperate for something to change. 
You often wondered, late in the night, if perhaps you had already died and this was purgatory or even hell, and that you were here to atone for the sins of life you couldn’t remember. 
Ms. Venable tapped her cane.”This will be our last breakfast,” she announced. “We’re cutting back to one meal a day.”
You could feel the dismay and uneasiness in the room. Coco was first to share her complaints about the new arrangement, followed by Gallant. Both Evie and Dinah tried to be voices of reason, but it seemed to only fuel their frustrations more. Gallant jumped to his feet, and threatened Dinah with his fork. 
Instinctively, you scooted closer to Ms. Mead as tempers rose. She looked towards The Fist, giving her a wordless order. 
“I say we take our chances outside,” Coco’s assistant suggested. 
“She’s right. We have to get out of here,” Gallant agreed. 
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Ms. Mead stated firmly. 
Gallant threw his plate, “What are you going to do? Shoot us all?”
The Fist made her way towards him. 
You gripped your utensils tightly as the scene unfolded before you. You knew the members of The Cooperative wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of you, the had done away with several people already. 
Suddenly, red lights flashed accompanied with the blare of an alarm rung out, effectively catching everyone’s attention. 
“Perimeter alert. There’s been a breach,” The Fist explained.
Ms. Mead sighed, giving you a curt nod, before following The Fist towards the stairs. 
No one was sure what to expect. Most were thinking that this was it, that the outpost would be overrun like the others. 
You probably should’ve felt worried as well, but frankly you were just glad something unexpected had happened, something to break the monotony. You stared up at the ceiling wondering who or what was up there. 
That night you were restless, tossing and turning, legs tangled in your sheets as you tried to fall into a deep sleep that never came. Instead, your busy mind conjured vivid and unsettling dreams, full of unfamiliar people and experiences that you didn’t remember or you didn’t understand, almost like being in a foreign film. 
Amongst all the nameless faces was a boy with blonde hair and striking blue eyes who appeared over and over again, catching your attention. As you watched him from afar he continuously changed from a child to a man.
You tried to get closer to him, reaching out with your hands trying to grab him, stop him, but each time he slipped away from your fingers with a pained look in his eyes. 
When your eyes snapped open, your poor head was throbbing, pounding against your skull. You curled into a ball sobbing quietly over the pain and the new emptiness in your chest. 
Everytime you closed your eyes you thought about that boy, it was almost as if you could feel his longing, his pain. You wished you could make out his face, but you could only recall pieces, like his fluffy blonde hair and the shade of his steel blue eyes. 
He was beautiful.
He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen, not that you much to compare him to considering the only faces you could remember were residents here at the outpost. You knew you were staring as he strode into the music room, but you couldn’t resist. Even if you tried, you were sure that you couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect than the man standing before you. 
Ms.Venable stepped aside as he turned and faced the survivors of Outpost 3. 
“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative,” the man stated, standing in the center of the room. 
You were so engrossed with his appearance that you were unable to process his words, although you did notice the soothing sound of his honeyed voice, so sweet and rich. He exuded confidence and poise as he spoke of the horrors that had befallen the world and the few remaining survivors. There was a sort of haughtiness as he answered questions that you also admired. 
It was unnerving, feeling attraction for the very first time. It was as if you could easily lose yourself to him, all of yourself, and that alone was very frightening. Surely, before the world crumpled, you must have felt this sort of magnetism towards people before, but you couldn’t imagine it was anything as powerful as this. Was this a crush? Love at first sight? Whatever it was, you weren’t prepared for how strong this pull would be. 
Gallant volunteered to be interviewed first, obviously eager to earn his spot at The Sanctuary. Despite your immediate interest in Michael Langdon, you were not as eager to be alone with him. 
How could you answer any of his questions when you didn’t know a thing about yourself? 
But as the thought crossed your mind, Michael’s eyes met yours, and for a brief moment it seemed as though his sauve and indifferent attitude faltered revealing something vulnerable and delicate beneath. Blue eyes that were cold and hard like ice were now swimming with emotion. 
It only lasted for a second, his cool demeanor returning as he turned away from you. 
“The process should only take me a couple of days,” Michael explained. “So you won’t be kept in suspense forever.”
“For those of you who don’t make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking,” he held up a vial containing white pills. “Down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up.”
“I look forward to meeting each and every one of you,” his eyes swept across the room, his eyes locking with yours one more time before he took his leave. 
There was a heaviness in the air as the weight of his words sunk in. There was no survival without admittance to The Sanctuary. Staying here would inevitably lead to death, it was just a question of how, by feral cannibals or suicide. 
As usual, the others erupted into a squabble, arguing over who was worthy and unworthy of going to The Sanctuary. 
You rose to your feet as you felt your headache returning. No one questioned you as you made your way out, towards the comfort of your bedroom.
Your head snapped towards your bedroom door as someone urgently rapped against it. 
“Ms. Venable has requested your presence,” Ms. Mead announced from the other side. “She has a few questions for you.”
“I’ll be right out,” you sighed as your fingers expertly finished buttoning your dress. 
Ms. Mead gave you a half smile as you stepped out of your room. The two of you walked quietly through the halls as she escorted you to Ms. Venable’s office. 
This happened about once a month, and you dreaded it every single time. At first she was reasonably pleasant, but as the months went by, she became more hostile, frustrated that your answers never changed. 
You took a deep breath as you both stopped outside her door. Ms. Mead got the door and held it open for you.
“Thank you,” you whispered to her as you crossed the threshold. 
“Of course,” she nodded, but as she closed the door, she gave Ms. Venable a stern look, who glared back in return. There seemed to be a sudden rift between the two women. 
You looked wistfully at the closed door, wishing that Ms. Mead had stayed. Ms. Venable cleared her throat and motioned to the chair across from her. 
“Ms. Y/n,” she greeted you as you took your seat. 
“Ms. Venable,” you replied, with a polite but forced smile. 
“18 months,” she began, chuckling dryly. “We’ve been here for 18 months and you still claim to have no memories?” She phrased it as a question but didn’t wait for a response. “It’s almost too convenient, isn’t it? The perfect little lie to hide behind.”
“It’s not a lie,” you insisted, locking your eyes with hers hoping to show her you were telling the truth, just like you had all the other times before. 
Ms. Venable wasn’t convinced, of course, that’s why she continued with these monthly interrogations. She had been present for the arrival of all the others, except for you. You seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, standing beside Ms. Mead in a satin gown as she introduced you to the other purples. 
“So,” Ms. Venable continued, barely able to hide her contempt while she feigned sympathy. “No changes? Nothing at all?” 
You looked away, your fingers playing with the lace trim on your skirt. You hadn’t planned on sharing that dream with anyone, but maybe it would get her off your back for a while. 
“I had this… dream recently, I can’t remember all the details, but there was this face, it’s not a clear image, but it lingers in my mind, of a sweet boy with blonde hair. I know… I know whoever he is, that I love him,” you admitted. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to picture him, but no matter how hard you tried it was like trying to see through fog. And there were all these feelings that emerged just at the thought of him, completely overwhelming you, making it hard to articulate any further. 
“I-I need to go,” you sniffled, your vision blurry as you got to your feet and rushed out the office. 
Your headache returned, bringing waves of nausea with it. The world around you was swirling and rocking, the light of the candles and lanterns were blinding. Holding your hand out you steadied yourself with the wall, using it as your anchor and guide as you tried to return to the safety of your room. 
“Ms. Y/n?”
Even with you squeezing your shut, you recognized the voice belonging to Coco’s assistant Mallory. She immediately offered you assistance, helping you sit on the floor. 
“Thank you,” you muttered, resting against the cool concrete wall. 
“Of course,” she said, sitting next to you. 
You bent your knees, pulling them up to your chest. “I keep getting these headaches along with these strange dreams,” you explained. “I think they might have to do with my memories.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she consoled. “Ever since being here, I’ve felt off too, like I’m not all here or I’m missing parts of myself… I have a feeling there’s a reason for it all.”
The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence. You had never really spent time with Mallory before, the grays were always so busy compared to the purples, but she seemed much nicer than most of the people who’ve gotten to know. 
Mallory accompanied you back to your room, once you felt well enough to walk again. You still had to prepare for your upcoming interview. 
….
The grays pulled the doors open and immediately closed them shut as soon as you stepped into the office. 
Michael was waiting by his desk for you.  An eager smile formed on his lips as he watched you timidly approach him. 
“Let’s begin, shall we?” He said, gesturing to the leather chair across from his desk before he promptly moved to his own seat. 
You swallowed thickly, your hands folded in your lap, you had spent hours agonizing over this interview. You wanted to secure a spot at The Sanctuary just like everyone else, but what could you say to convince him? 
Ms. Venable drilled you every chance she got about who you are or were, she was obviously certain that you didn’t belong with the rest. Even the other purples had made it a habit, regularly pointing out to you that if you had been anyone important than someone here at the outpost should’ve recognized you, but none of them did. You were no one. 
Then, of course, there was the whole other ordeal of you being infatuated with Michael Langdon, you were completely bewitched by his charm and beauty. 
Your stomach was already fluttering uncontrollably simply because you were in the same room with him, alone. Your gaze flickered to him, briefly taking in the sight before you. His body language spoke volumes as sat there like a young king perched upon his throne, radiating elegance and authority. 
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Michael mused. “ Unlike your…companions, who have all been so loud and obnoxious,” he rolled his eyes. “Constantly pestering me, pleading their cases, and offering deals and bribes thinking I can be swayed by their foolish promises but not you, not even now, why?”
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. 
“Could it be that you’ve already decided that you won’t be selected?” he speculated. 
You looked away. “I’m nobody special or significant,” you explained, bunching your skirts in your hands. “I don’t even know why I’m here or how I even arrived at the outpost.”
“Ah, yes,” Michael hummed. “Ms. Venable has informed me that you have no memories of your past.” He gave you a hard look, before leaning forward, his fingers drumming on the desk. “Have you considered that perhaps you’re here because someone special, someone powerful, made these arrangements for you?”
You shook your head, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but it wasn’t an unreasonable idea. “If that were true then wouldn’t that person be here with me now?”
Michael shrugged, resting his elbows on the armrests as he leaned back and crossed his legs, “Unless they weren’t able to get here in time, perhaps they died on their way to the outpost or worse, survived… but who knows maybe they did make it, maybe they’re here and haven’t told you.”
“Why would someone do that?” Your eyes moved from Michael to the files on his desk, could it really be that one of the others knows who you are. “Do any of your files mention anything about why or how I ended up here?”
“I’m afraid that’s classified,” he replied with a mocking smile, laying his hand on top of the stack, a playful look in his eye as he stared down at the pile. 
Your shoulders slumped, you had hoped that Michael would have some answers for you, but instead he just planted more questions and worries in your head. 
“How do you feel about them, the others?” He asked offhandedly, casually changing the subject, while slightly swiveling his chair side to side.
You perked up at the question. “Oh, Evie has been a friend, someone to talk to, to confide in,” you said with a small shrug. “And Ms. Mead, even though she keeps her distance from us, she’s been a source of comfort for me, someone I can trust.”
Micheal snickered, shaking his head, “You’re the first to say anything remotely kind about the other survivors. The rest were all so quick to share with me the ugly and disgraceful truths they had gathered about one another. It’s… a refreshing change.”
He tilted his head, his gaze lingering on your face as his finger traced down the side of his face to his jaw. Your eyes followed the gesture, mesmerized, it seemed unfair to try to have to concentrate with him right in front of you. Every movement he made, no matter how small or fleeting, was alluring, like he was tempting you. 
“Do you find me attractive?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with delight as he watched you squirm. 
Your eyes widened, twisting your silk skirt with your hands, it was as if he could read your mind. 
“Tell me,”  Michael urged with a smirk, rising from his chair and slowly striding towards you. “What exactly do you like about me?” 
He partially sat on his desk right in front of you, his hands clasped in front as he waited. 
You parted your lips, licking them nervously. “Everything,” you answered in a small voice. 
“Everything?” He repeated, lifting his brow. He leaned closer towards you, his long golden hair falling forward like a curtain, his face inching towards yours. 
You nodded, your eyes locking with his as you craned your neck towards him. 
“I believe you,” he whispered, his breath tickling your face as his nose touched yours. “Too bad we’re out of time.”
You blinked in surprise as the large black doors slid open. 
Michael straightened out his posture, before turning away. “We’ll speak again, soon,” he added as he headed up the staircase. 
You wandered the halls, head in the clouds, daydreaming of the kiss that almost happened between you and Michael. You were certain now that whatever you were feeling was more than a crush. 
“Ms. Y/n?” Ms. Mead started as you almost walked into her. 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling embarrassed as you suddenly returned to planet Earth. 
“Everything alright?”
You giggled, “I’m fine, never better.”
She gave you an odd look, “Are you sure? This morning you didn’t look too well.”
You smiled warmly at her, “It was just a little headache, that’s all.”
She nodded, still not completely convinced. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thank you, Ms. Mead.”
She sighed, straightening out her coat as you both stood there in the middle of the empty corridor. You were about to ask what was on her mind, but suddenly she opened her mouth. 
“Have you talked to him yet? Mr. Langdon?” She asked. 
“I have,” you replied, trying not to smile too wide.
She looked down. “The others seemed worse off after talking to him,” she shared. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to my turn.”
“Why?” You inquired, voice laced with concern. “Surely your hard work and dedication to The Cooperative should guarantee you a spot.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” 
“It’s the truth,” you assured her. 
“What do you make of him?” Ms. Mead asked, unsure how to feel about the newcomer, he was with The Cooperative afterall and her loyalty to her employer was still strong. She had followed orders and had done the best she could in these circumstances. Perhaps, this Langdon did hold the key to salvation. 
“It’s hard to put it into words,” you began to explain. “But I feel a connection to him.”
“Just keep your wits about you,” she advised, giving you a slight nod as she left. 
You were moving sluggishly, having spent most of the morning in bed trying to recover from another headache. While the pain lingered, your head no longer felt like it was going to explode. 
Slowly, you pulled open your wardrobe and shifted through your options wishing there was something comfier and easier to wear instead of all these complicated dresses. 
You eventually settled on a simple tea gown which you were able to wear without a corset. As you were tying the back of the bodice, someone knocked on your door.
“Ms. Venable?” You questioned, stepping back as she invited herself into your bedroom. 
“Close the door,” she ordered, standing tall with both of her hands clasping her cane. 
You pushed the door closed, but remained far from Ms. Venable. She had never dropped in on you like this, and you didn’t like it. It felt too invasive, seeing her in your room acting as if she owned the place. You knew nothing good would come from this visit. 
“I want you to tell me more about the boy,” she demanded, her dark eyes boring into yours.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Hiding something?” She probed. 
“No,” you objected. “I’ve already told you everything I could remember.”
“Surely that’s not all,” she argued, giving you an incredulous look. 
After what Ms. Mead shared with her about the beautiful boy, Ms. Venable was now convinced that the two of you were speaking of the same boy. The way you both reacted emotionally while speaking of your love for him made it obvious. 
Now the big question was who was this boy? 
Since the beginning, Ms. Venable had suspected that there was a connection between Ms. Mead and you. This only solidified her suspicions that you and her knew each other from before, most likely through The Cooperative. 
This had to be why Ms. Mead had protected you, you were the one that should’ve been killed instead of Stu. But Ms. Mead had decided otherwise, despite the clear orders Ms. Venable had given her. No one would have cared or even noticed if you had died. You were an outlier, something unpredictable to the order she had created here. She wanted you gone. 
“Think harder,” Ms. Venable commanded, glaring at you. “Who is the boy?”
“I don’t know,” you pressed your back against the wall. 
She slammed her cane on the floor. “Worthless girl,” she snapped. “You have no idea what’s at stake here.”
You had to know something. The order she had worked so hard to cultivate was beginning to crumble, it was all in jeopardy because of the arrival of Langdon. He was pulling it all apart at the seams, revealing her lies and planting the seeds of disobedience. He brought chaos and disorder into her outpost while repeatedly undermining her authority. She needed to regain some sort of control, before it was too late. 
“What?” You furrowed your brows, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t understand, what does he have to do with anything?”
Ms. Venable practically snarled, “Liar.”
You jumped slightly as your door suddenly opened, revealing Michael standing on the other side. 
“Ms. Venable,” he began. “I’ve been waiting in my office for quite some time…I still have questions for Ms. y/n,” he explained, folding his arms behind his back.
Ms.Venable glared at Michael, clenching her jaw tightly, her hands practically shaking with irritation over the sudden disruption. 
“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he warned.
Ms. Venable didn't budge, she didn’t like being played for a fool, you knew more than you were letting on and she could see now that there was something going on between you and Langdon. 
Micheal smirked, obviously amused.“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he stated, taking a step to the side gesturing for her to go. 
She huffed, her cane tapping on the floor as she finally took her leave.
“Mr. Langdon,” you said softly, tilting your head.
“Michael,” he corrected.
“Michael,” you started again. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting again so soon.”
He smiled, directing his attention to you. “I wanted to continue where we left off yesterday. And now that Ms. Venable is gone, we can.”
Your face flushed as you recalled how your interview with him ended. You could still picture his face just inches from yours, his lips parted as you leaned in towards him. You had wondered if  you had just a minute or two longer with him, what would’ve happened? Was he really going to kiss you?
“What are you thinking about?” He looked around your room, before approaching you, his hands wrapping around your elbows as he pulled you towards him.
“Nothing,” you answered in a small voice. 
He laughed lightly, “I’m sure it’s not nothing.” His fingers curled tighter around your arms. “Let’s see… does it have anything to do with me?”
You bit your lip and nodded. 
He smirked triumphantly. “You don’t have to be so nervous about that,” Michael mused. “I want you to think about me… to want me. Do you want me?”
You nodded again, not trusting your voice. 
“Good,” he murmured. “Considering how we might end up the last two people on Earth.”
You furrowed your brow as Michael reached up, his knuckle running along your cheek. 
“Which brings me to why I’m here,” he continued, lowering his hand making you immediately miss his touch as it left your skin. “I have important news, news that I wanted to deliver to you in person.”
He focused on your face with a serious look, “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, do you understand?”
“Yes,” you promised. 
Michael leaned down, his lips right by your ear. “You’ve been granted a spot at The Sanctuary.”
You looked at him with wide eyes. You couldn’t believe it. 
He smiled, placing his index finger over your lips. “This is our little secret.”
His finger lingered on your skin for a moment before he reluctantly released you. Smoothing out his coat, he gave you one last look, before leaving you there speechless. 
The complex multi-level underground structure of Outpost 3 was prone to creating strange moving shadows. It wasn’t dark figures following you in your peripherals. The fire and candle light that lit up each room and passage were unable to reach all the far corners. 
It was eerie at the beginning, constantly feeling like you had to look over your shoulder, but eventually you got used to it, like you did with the cubes, the complicated clothes, and the same song that played every damn day. It just became part of your reality. 
But lately you began to feel as though you were being followed by more than just the usual shadows, this new dark figure seemed more real, more solid. 
At first you blamed your mind, thinking it was playing tricks on you or mistaking the shadows for a real person. Since you weren’t getting much sleep, because of the vivid dreams and the horrendous headaches, it didn’t seem unreasonable to suspect that you might be hallucinating. 
You couldn’t shake the feeling, however. Unlike the shadows, it seemed to have more mobility, slinking along the walls or even the ceiling, watching you, but you were never able to get a good look at it. A few times, in the middle of night, you had jolted awake swearing that you had felt someone in bed beside you. 
You felt like you were losing your mind. 
Walking past the large fire in the atrium, you hoped that things would be better at The Sanctuary, less dreary and hopeless like the outpost had become. The change in scenery alone would be a welcomed change. 
You sighed thinking about what Michael had said about it just being you and him, you wished he had elaborated. 
Out of nowhere, you saw a dark figure move above you, against your better judgment you followed it, going up the stairs to a vacant room. 
You stood there frozen as a shadowy figure stood across from you. It tilted its head, staring at you. Its body was covered head to toe in latex. 
“Who are you?” You asked. 
It didn’t answer. 
“Michael?” You took a step closer, observing it more closely, wondering who or what it could be dressed like that. Your eyes wandered over its body, the tight fitting material left little to the imagination. 
It moved forward as well, extending its hand and caressing your cheek similar to how Michael had done earlier, but the texture of the latex on your skin made your skin crawl. It lacked the warmth and comfort Michael’s touch had brought you. The same touch that had excited you earlier, the same touch you craved to feel again. 
You squirmed as it laid its other hand on your waist. Desire radiated from its body as it pulled you closer. 
Fingers drifted up towards your chest. Your heart began to race, panic settling over you as you speculated what the strange creature would do next. 
The hand that had caressed your cheek trailed towards your neck. You inhaled sharply as its large fingers wrapped around your neck. 
Firmly you pushed it away from you. 
It tilted its head the other way, watching you attentively. For a moment you were worried that you had upset the person or creature, but it simply walked past you and out the door, seemingly satisfied. 
You stumbled backwards until your back hit a wall, releasing a shaky breath you had been holding in. 
The interaction was so odd and brief, that you couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. But something deep down told you it was a test. That Michael was testing you. 
Breathing in deeply, you tried to regain your composure. You knew it didn’t have any sort of malicious intent, it was more that you felt repulsed by the idea of anyone other than Michael touching you like that. 
You hoped you had seen the last of it. 
You were in the library when you heard that Evie had passed. You sat there for hours, in silence, as you tried to process the news. 
Gallant was at least courteous enough to find and tell you that she had died, emphasizing that she had died peacefully in her sleep. He held a somber expression, trying desperately to appear upset, nodding his head as he expressed that she had lived a long and fuller life than most. Too bad the crocodile tears he managed to muster were wasted, you were so despondent that you weren’t really listening anymore as he cried.
You weren’t sure how to feel about the situation, she had been a friend to you when you had no one, but you weren’t blind to her boasting and egotistical nature. You sure that in life she had more enemies than friends, even her own grandson barely seemed to tolerate her. 
There would be no funeral, no ceremony celebrating her life or to mourn her, everyone would just move on without a second thought. 
Your head shot up as you felt the couch dip beside you. 
Michael crossed his legs and propped his arm up on the back of the sofa, resting his head on his hand, as he turned his body towards you. 
“You’ve heard the news, I assume?” He asked, in a gentle tone.
You nodded as tears finally streamed down your face. Suddenly it all felt more real, now that Michael was here. Evie was really gone and your world seemed smaller now because of it. 
He rested his free hand over yours as you cried freely, his thumb caressing circles on the top of your hand. It took several minutes before you were able to compose yourself. 
“I know she wasn’t anyone’s favorite person,” you sniffled. “She rubbed people the wrong way, made everything about her, but Constance was my-“
You stopped speaking as you realized your mistake. 
Constance? 
The name had slipped from your lips so easily, like you had said it many times before, but that made no sense, you didn’t know anyone by that name, or did you?
Michael paused, his entire body becoming stiff as he peered at your face. 
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from. I’ve been getting these headaches and having the weirdest dreams.”
“It’s alright,” he reassured you, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Perhaps, it’s your mind preparing itself for when your memories return. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
You wiped your face, and inhaled deeply, “Thank you for being here with me.”
“Of course,” he murmured, shifting in his seat and taking the hand he was holding and moving it to his lap. He reclined his head on the back of the sofa as you scooted closer to him, laying your head against his shoulder.
Michael stared at the chandelier, watching flames on the candles flicker with a pensive expression, his hand holding yours tighter as his thoughts drifted back to memories he had forbidden himself from revisiting. 
He had changed and grown so much over the past couple of years, but having you back by his side invoked so many emotions and memories. You were always there when he needed you, when he wanted you. 
He felt like such a monster after Grandma’s death. It left him wondering whether people were incapable of loving him because he was so wicked, evil. But you stayed with him, comforted him, loved him. You had knelt down beside him on the wooden floors, letting him cry upon your shoulder as you held him close... 
Michael blinked a few times, holding back tears. “You should get some rest,” he managed to say in an even tone. 
You stretched your arms over your head and nodded. Your entire body felt heavy. Once you arrived in your room you collapsed on your bed, passing out, too tired to dream. 
… 
Michael closed his laptop and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t focus on his work. The events from earlier had opened the floodgates, leaving him feeling like he was drowning inside. 
It was becoming such a struggle to keep you at arms length. Even without your memories he could see that you were still drawn to him, that you still cared for him, and it was taking all of his self restraint not to take advantage of that. 
There was nothing he wouldn’t give to have things like they were… to listen to you talk softly as you played with his hair or to reach out and hold your hand whenever he needed to.
But it was still too soon, he still had to keep you safe. 
He glanced at the trunk that held the few belongings he brought with him to the outpost. Laying on top was a book of yours, your favorite book. You had read it to him so many times that he grew to love it as much as you did. 
Closing his eyes Michael could picture the last time you read it to him, as clear as day, back in the old mansion. It was the middle of the afternoon, his head was resting on your belly as both laid together in his room, your nails were scratching his scalp. He had fallen asleep before you reached the end…
For nearly two years he tried to read it, but he never got very far, it was only a good book when you were reading it. 
Michael was sitting in front of the fireplace, head resting against his hand as he gazed into the flames. A worn book sat on his lap, forgotten. Just a few more days he kept reminding himself, he had worked so hard to get to this point, but soon he’d have everything he wanted. 
He turned his head as you opened the door and peeked in. 
“You wanted to see me?”
“That’s right,” Michael nodded, rising from his seat and taking a few long strides towards you. “I’ve heard you’ve read most of the books available in the library.”
“Not much else to do,” you smiled slightly, shutting the door behind you. 
“Would you like a new book to read?” He asked, looking down at you. “I have a feeling, you’ll really enjoy this one.”  He dangled the book that had been on his lap in front of you. 
You tilted your head, giving him a wary look, but as soon as you reached out to accept it, he pulled it away with a smug grin. 
Micheal tutted, shaking his head. “Not so quick, there’s a catch,” he teased, holding it over his shoulder. “If you want to read it, you have to read it to me.”
“Read it to you?” You narrowed your eyes.
“Mmhmm,” he nodded, getting closer to you.
“I don’t understand,” you muttered.“Why?”
“So many questions,” Michael chuckled. “If you really don’t want to, I could ask one of the others, Gallant, maybe? Or Coco?”
“I’ll do it,” you blurted out, the thought of him asking someone else smacked you with a bout of anxiety, making your heart jump into your throat. Again you made a reach for the book, and this time he allowed you to take it. With a smile, he relinquished the hardback book to you, and headed back towards the fireplace. 
Gracefully, he shucked off his black coat and laid it on the back of one of the chairs. As you were about to sit on the other armchair, he stopped you and offered you his hand, guiding you to the rug on the floor. 
You knelt down on your knees first, before trying your best to get comfortable on the floor. The tight bodice and large skirt on your dress limited your mobility.
You were caught off guard as Michael joined you, resting his head upon your lap as stretched out on the carpet. His face looked up, his attention all on you as he waited for you to start. 
Clearing your throat, you opened the book to the first chapter and started reading. Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his arms laying across his chest as you read in a soft and steady tone. 
Michael was right, you immediately became engrossed in the story and attached to its characters. Time passed comfortably between the two of you as if this were a regular occurrence or activity. Absent-mindedly, you played with Michael’s hair, casually twirling the silky strands around your finger. He slowly opened his eyes gazing at the fireplace with the same vulnerable expression you had briefly seen before. 
He snatched your hand, curling his fingers around your palm, with a firm grip he placed your hand on his chest holding it there with both of his. 
You stopped reading, and looked down at him. His head was still turned away from you, long blonde locks covering the side of his face. You could feel his heart beating under your touch. Your fingers slowly grasped the front of his shirt. Laying the book down, you reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear. 
Michael closed his eyes and gave a long drawn out sigh before immediately sitting up. 
“Michael?”
He didn’t answer as he got to his feet. 
Just then, two grays abruptly slid the large black doors open. Ms. Venable appeared heated, her lips forming a scowl as she stared daggers between you and Michael. 
“It’s time for dinner,” Ms. Venable reminded sharply. “You’ve already missed cocktail hour.”
Michael stepped in front of you, protectively, blocking Ms. Venable’s view of you. 
“My apologies,” he said, though his expression said otherwise.
Ms. Venable pursed her lips, her hand balling into a fist. Michael narrowed his eyes, standing tall, almost daring Ms. Venable to say something else with him present. Finally, she averted her gaze.
He lifted his coat from the chair and slipped it back on effortlessly. “I’ll escort her down.”
Michael waited until she left, before he helped you up. He still appeared irritated over the intrusion, acting unusually quiet. 
You placed your hand on his upper arm, guiding him to face you. Michael raised his brow as he looked down at you, a faint smile forming on his lips. 
Offering you his arm, he led you downstairs. 
Ms. Venable gathered everyone in the music room, purples and grays, under the guise of an emergency meeting. All eyes were on her as she began to speak of the hardships endured by all during the past months. 
“I believe now what we need is a moment of celebration,” she announced. “Which is why this weekend, as a gesture of goodwill, we will have a Halloween soirée.”
Gallant and Coco were the only ones to react with notable excitement. The rest of the purples seemed to question the real purpose of this masquerade.
You couldn’t help but notice the lack of Evie’s big personality in the room, the other purples seemed so dull by comparison. You missed her witty comments and humor. She probably had some interesting stories relating to Halloween. 
Gallant, perhaps reading your expression, added how it was a shame his grandmother wouldn’t be present. However, he did a piss poor job of pretending to be sad. You wanted to roll your eyes at the comment, but resisted.
With everyone present in one room, with the exception of Michael, you were reminded that you had been selected for The Sanctuary. You were curious about who else Michael had chosen. 
You glanced briefly at Ms.Mead, if it were up to you, you would pick her to join. She was far more useful and resourceful than the others, and could handle stressful situations with a cool head from what you had witnessed. To you she was simply one of the best this Outpost had to offer. 
“I encourage you all to use your imaginations, to create what I am sure to be exquisite costumes,” Ms. Venable continued. 
Once again the only ones who appeared happy about this whole ordeal were Coco and Gallant. It seemed strange for Ms. Venable to be acting so out of character, for her to care about something as frivolous as Halloween or making amends to anyone. There had to be more to it all. 
Before dismissing everyone, she stressed, “Attendance is mandatory.” 
The day of the masquerade, you had spent most of the day primping and preening hoping to look your best for the night. Even though it seemed unlikely, a part of you was holding out hope that you would see Michael tonight. 
You did a little twirl in front of the full length mirror in your room. You were wearing a full length dark purple gown with an off -shoulder neckline made of silky ruffles. 
Arriving in the music room, you spotted Ms. Mead who entered with a cart carrying apples. You felt a flutter of excitement, watching as she started to add them to a a barrel of water. They looked so appetizing. The others began to gather around, stunned that there was fresh fruit. 
Looking at their faces as they stood around the barrel, you realized that you had left your mask upstairs. While they were all distracted with the fresh apples for the party, you snuck away and headed back to your room. 
Lifting the skirt of your dress, you hurried back up the steps, but slowed down immediately when saw Micheal standing on the landing. His hand was resting on the bannister, as he gazed down at you. 
“Are you heading downstairs?” You asked as you made your way up. 
Michael chuckled, “Afraid not.”
“Oh,” you said with a sad smile, trying to hide your disappointment. 
He offered you his hand as you took the last few steps up. Michael’s lips curled into a sneer as he examined you and your dress.
“Such an ugly color,” he criticized, his finger grazing over the dark purple fabric. “Doesn’t suit you at all.”
You glanced down at it, “There’s not much variety when it comes to color in my closet.” 
He hummed, his hands undoing his scarf. He held it up to your face, before wrapping it securely around your neck, “Now red,” he murmured. “Red looks good on you.”
You could feel your face heat up over the small compliment. 
Michael sighed as he took a moment to admire you, then leaned down, his lips close to your ear. “I bet you’d look even better in black.” 
He pulled back. “Come with me,” he invited. 
You bit your lip, looking back towards the stairs leading down to the music room. 
He shook his head and reached for your hand. “No one will even notice you're not there.”
“But Ms. Venable said attendance was mandatory,” you whispered, playing with one end of the scarf. 
Micheal frowned, his grip on your hand tightening, “I thought you’d want to spend time with me.”
“I do,” you said quickly.
“Then why are you hesitating?” He inquired, his voice steadily rising. “I can give you whatever you want, they can’t.”
You cupped his cheek, you hadn’t seen him become so emotional before, “I just wanted to try an apple, that’s all, but I’d rather be with you.”
He examined your face, his eyes practically staring straight into your soul. “That’s all?” He asked softly. 
With a deep breath, his calm and confident façade returned. Lacing his fingers with yours, Michael led you to his room. 
He motioned for you to have a seat on his bed, before he bent down and unlatched a black chest that was on the floor. From the chest he produced an apple. 
Michael held it out towards you, it was a deep rich red color and unblemished. It looked perfect. You only hoped it tasted as good as it looked. 
“Go ahead,” he urged, sitting by his desk and watching intently as you brought the apple to your lips. 
You moaned as you bit into it, savoring the satisfying crunch and the sweet taste as juice dribbled down your chin. You took several more bites, giggling a little as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 
You suddenly felt self conscious as you realized Micheal was still watching, his gaze firmly fixed on you. 
“How is it?” He asked, shifting forward as he moved his elbows from his chair onto his knees. 
You hid your mouth behind your hand as you swallowed, “Delicious.”
“Is that right?”
“Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” 
“I can think of something that tastes better,” he leaned forward, tilting his head and stroking his hand against your cheek and down to your neck as he pulled you closer. “It’s time for you to come back to me, y/n.”
His soft lips brushed against yours, before parting. His tongue lightly trailed over your lower lip, tasting the juice from the apple. You melted against him, your apple slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor as you held onto him. You closed your eyes, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling. 
Who would’ve thought a kiss would be so powerful? 
***flashback***
Micheal sat by the window, anxiously awaiting for your arrival. When grandma had shared that she was going out for the evening, and that you would be the one coming to watch him, he immediately perked up with excitement. 
“How much longer grandma?” He whined.
“Not much longer,” she replied, patting the top of her grandson’s head. 
Constance felt like she had hit the jackpot when you started sitting for her. After the last few babysitters, who had unfortunately met their demise here in her house, she feared that she’d never be able to go out alone or get a moment’s peace without having to add one death on her already guilt ridden conscience. But after that first night, when she entered her home and saw you alive and well with Micheal beside you just as happy as he could be, she honestly felt like the luckiest woman alive. 
“Now remember to behave yourself, Micheal,” Constance started. “We both like Ms. y/n very much, don't we? It would be such a pity if she wasn’t around anymore.” 
Micheal nodded his head, “I’ll be good.”
Now, Constance was no fool, she had her suspicions as to why her grandson made an exception when it came to you. The little dear had a crush on you, his first crush. It was truly sweet, watching him moon over you, almost made Micheal seem like a normal boy. 
“She’s here!” Micheal shouted, jumping out of his seat to greet you at the door. 
“Hi, Micheal,” you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, squeezing you tightly. 
“I missed you,” he mumbled, face pressed into stomach. 
“I missed you too,” you rubbed his back as he squeezed you even tighter. 
Constance smiled, grabbing her purse, “I’ll be back at 10. Have fun you two!”
“We will!” You replied, waving as she headed out. 
You crouched down, onto your knees, looking Michael eye to eye, “Why don’t you go pick out a movie, okay?”
Micheal nodded, rushing into the living room, and grabbing the TV remote before flopping onto the couch and scrolling through the channels. 
Micheal was by far the easiest kid you cared for, he followed your instructions, never had a tantrum or fussed, and always seemed so happy when you were around. 
There had been rumors circulating around the neighborhood that made you hesitant about accepting the position. Everyone had heard about the deaths in the house, of course, but rumors were now spreading about how those nannies and sitters were actually murdered. However, after getting to know Micheal and Constance, you were glad you took the job. There was no way this sweet little boy could’ve hurt anyone. 
He may have had some odd interests, but he just seemed so innocent. 
“What movie did you pick?” You asked from the kitchen as the popcorn finished popping. 
“The Omen,” he answered. 
“Are you sure you want to watch that one? It’s pretty scary,” you warned. 
“I’m sure.”
You shrugged, curling up on the couch beside him with a big bowl of buttery popcorn. You didn’t mind his interests, no matter how strange they might be to others. In your opinion, watching a horror movie was way better than watching The Wiggles or whatever else kids were into these days. 
After a while, you grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered your legs. Michael’s eyes were glued to the screen, but he managed to snuggle closer to you as you shared the blanket with him. 
You winced as the nanny jumped, the noose successfully snapping her neck. It had been a few years since you’ve watched this particular horror classic. Usually you weren’t so jumpy, but it took you by surprise. 
Michael shifted in his seat and looked at you. “It’s not his fault, right?” He asked in a small voice. 
You raised your brow, and sat up, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. “What Michael?”
“Damien and the stuff that’s happening, it’s not his fault, right?”
You looked back at the TV screen and thought about it for a moment. It was an interesting question. Damien is the son of the devil, but he’s still a child after all, and children are innocent and still learning about right and wrong. The contradictory nature of Damien’s existence is part of what makes the film so captivating. Makes the viewer wonder about all the evil people in the world and where it all went wrong for them. 
How much of Damien’s circumstance was his fault? He didn’t ask to be born, he had no control over who his father was… Does he understand that his desires are evil? Is he compelled to act on these impulses without choice? Does he have free will?
You could feel Michael’s gaze on you as you mulled it over. His eyes examined every little feature and movement your face made. His small hands gripped the knees of his pants as anxiety built up within him as he waited for your answer. 
“It’s complicated, I think,” you said. “It’s not all his fault but some of it is.”
Michael laid back on the couch as he processed what you said. “I’d never hurt you, y/n.”
He didn’t want you to end up like the others before, they didn’t come back and he was fine with that, but he’d feel terrible if that happened to you. The thought of you being gone forever made him feel a lot of things, sad, angry, lonely… he would never hurt you. 
“Well, don’t you look nice,” Constance complimented as she opened the door and invited you in. “If you had other plans, dear, you didn’t have to come.”
You laughed, shaking your head, “I wouldn’t call being stood up plans.”
“His loss, Honey,” Constance reassured you, giving you a small pat on the arm. 
You had been waiting alone at the restaurant when Constance called you, you immediately accepted. You figured speanding time with Michael was better than going home alone to mope over some dumb guy anyways. 
“Where’s Michael?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t already bulldozed you with a hug. 
Michael peeked his head from around the corner, he was blushing bright red the moment he saw you. You never looked so pretty before. You were dressed up like a princess. 
You tilted your head and smiled, “Why are you being so shy, silly?” You knelt down with your arms wide open. 
Michael rushed over, looping his arms around you. 
“Sorry again about your date, dear,” Constance consoled you as she grabbed her coat. 
“I’ll be fine,” you laughed as she headed towards the door. “I’ve got Michael to cheer me up.”
He pulled away from you beaming, “I can do that.”
You smiled back at him and winked, “Why don’t we start our night with some ice cream?”
He nodded eagerly following you to the kitchen.
“So you were on a date?” Michael asked, hopping onto one of the stools at the breakfast nook. 
“Sort of,” you shrugged, getting ice cream out of the freezer and setting it on the counter to soften. “It’s not really a date when the other person doesn’t show up.”
“Is dating like getting married?” He inquired, swinging his legs back and forth. 
“No, not exactly,” you answered without missing a beat, juggling your conversation while opening the fridge and grabbing the chocolate syrup and whip cream. “Dating is more of a step towards getting married, people date to figure out if they want to marry the person.”
Michael nodded, “What do you do on a date?”
“Oh, all sorts of things,” you grabbed bowls from the cabinet. “Watch a movie, go out to dinner, walk in the park, just any activity where I can talk and get to know the other person.”
“Are we dating?” Michael asked with an earnest look. 
You paused, still holding the bowls, as you turned around to face him. The question caught you completely off guard. “What do you mean?” 
“Well, we do all those things together,” he explained. “We eat together, watch movies, play at the park, talk…”
You laughed, “you’re right, we do do all those things together.”
“So we’re dating?”
You sighed, fishing through the drawer for the ice cream scooper. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we’re not.”
“Why not?” He asked, concern written all over his face. “Don’t you like me?”
“Of course I do,” you murmured, handing him a bowl and a spoon and ruffling his hair. “But when it comes to dating, you should pick someone that's the same age as you.”
“Grandma doesn’t,” he said bluntly. 
You bit your lip, trying hard not to laugh or smile, he wasn't wrong. You took a moment to think about your next words carefully. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you have to be an adult.”
Michael sighed and nodded, picking at his food. He hated all those ‘when you're older’ things. “So will you date me when I’m an adult?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind dating an ugly old lady,” you teased. 
“Don’t say that,” he declared, his blue eyes fixated on you, full of determination. “You’ll always be beautiful.”
You smiled and kissed his forehead, “Thank you, Sweetheart.”
Michael was overjoyed, his prayers had been granted overnight. He had gone to bed wishing, begging, to be older, to be an adult. He was so desperate to be with you, he never wanted anything so badly. 
He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his fingers examining his older face, he turned his head side to side, wondering if you would still think he was cute. 
Constance was still so rattled from the shock of finding a full grown Michael asleep in his small bed, that she hadn’t been able to stop shaking all morning. 
Michael couldn’t wait to show you the new him. He bounced downstairs to find grandma, she needed to call you, invite you over right now so you could see. 
When he first asked, she made up an excuse saying you were too busy, but as days passed he began getting more and more irritable, throwing tantrums, whining and crying for you to come over. 
She disconnected the phone. That pushed him over the edge. He screamed, yelling that he hated her, while yanking the phone and cord off the wall. 
But she couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk Michael calling you or you calling the house. 
Constance was worried for your well being, how could you accept what she couldn’t, if you refused him after what he did for you, how he grew up just for you, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to end your life. In a strange way, you represented the last small piece of humanity that Michael had. It would be a shame if he snuffed it out. 
He couldn’t sleep, he was still so angry, why was grandma doing this to him. Why was she being so mean? He balled his fists, breathing fast. He didn’t want to listen to her anymore or follow her dumb rules or do anything she says…
Michael seemed to have blacked out after that, because the next thing he knew his hands were wrapped around his grandmother’s throat. He gasped, tears falling from his eyes as he finally let her go. 
He didn’t mean to. 
The next day Constance called the priest. She had no other alternatives. She had never in her life been so afraid. But when that fell through, and she saw the priest dead on the floor, she finally snapped. 
All morning you kept looking at your phone, thinking any minute it would light up and ring. When you hadn’t heard from Constance, you became concerned. Typically you watched Michael at least three days a week, if not more. But by the time the afternoon rolled around, and you still hadn’t heard a thing, you decided to call. 
You tapped your foot anxiously as you held your phone to your ear, but your stomach dropped when a robotic voice informed you that the line was no longer in service. 
Dropping the phone, you immediately bolted out the door. Fortunately, you lived nearby as you began to sprint towards their house. Your mind was racing, as you assumed the worst had happened. You prayed that they were both safe. 
You came to a sudden stop, as you stood across the street from their house, a young man emerged from the front door in a hurry. He seemed completely distraught, walking barefoot, tears streaming down his face, eyes bloodshot. 
You jogged towards him. “Are you okay?” You asked, voice laced with concern. 
He lifted his head at the sound of your voice. “Y/n?” The man gasped, immediately reaching out for you. 
You took a few steps back, the poor boy looked like you had just punched him in the gut. 
He started crying harder, “Don’t you recognize me?”
You narrowed your eyes, gently placing your hands on his cheeks, directing his face side to side, so you could get a look at him. He was beautiful, gorgeous even, with a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and clear blue eyes. 
“Michael?” You whispered. Looking into his eyes, you knew it was him, even though it was impossible.
“Grandma’s mad at me,” he wailed, his hands clinging to your shirt as he buried his face against your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back.
“Will you take care of me, y/n?” He sobbed. 
“Of course-“ you stopped talking as Constance came outside. 
Her face was hard and stoic as she watched you and Michael before she motioned for you to come into the house. 
“Let’s go inside,” you murmured, brushing his hair away from his eyes. 
At first Michael didn’t budge as he looked over his shoulder back at Constance. 
“It’s alright,” you encouraged him, taking his hand and walking back to the house. 
Constance forced a smile as she greeted you, “You’re taking this better than I did.” 
She gave Michael a cold look, who immediately looked down at his feet as he shuffled into the house.
Once inside, the reality of the situation sunk in as you sat across from a full grown Michael, who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He stared up at you full of adoration. 
“So you’re older now…” you began. 
He beamed, “Yep! I did it for you.”
“You… did this for me?”
Michael nodded, his eyes still red from crying. 
“How?”
He shrugged, “I just wished for it really really hard. I never wanted anything more.” His face turned serious, 
“So what do you think?” 
“What do I think?” You repeated. You were still trying to figure out why he did this for you. You glanced at him and saw his hopeful expression. “I think… you look very handsome.”
“So you like it?”
“Of course, I do. You did it for me.”
The next day Constance invited you over. Michael was still in his room when you arrived. She seemed tired, distant, expressing that she wasn’t up to going out. 
“Y/n, dear,” Constance laid a hand on your shoulder. “Mind taking Michael out for a bit? Could do him some good to get out of the house.”
“Sure,” you nodded, before heading upstairs. Outside Michael's room you could hear the TV, the sound effects gave away that he was busy playing a video game.
“Hey Michael,” you said, leaning against the doorframe to his room. “Want to go out with me?”
“Like a date?” He perked up like a little puppy, dropping his video game controller on his bed. 
“Sure,” you laughed. You had never seen him move so fast as he scrambled to his closet and grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and a jacket, putting them on in record time. 
“I’m ready,” he said eagerly, taking your hand in his and practically raced down stairs with you stumbling behind him. “Bye Grandma!”
It felt odd, not in a bad way, just different. 
Michael was obviously adjusting to his older body. He wasn’t used to being so big or strong, and he was still behaving with the same amount of energy as a boy would, like holding your hand with all his might. 
He blushed as you explained that he had to loosen his grip a little because he was so strong now, but you still found his enthusiasm endearing. 
“So what would you like to do today?” You asked him. 
“Let’s go to the park, then have milkshakes,” he said animatedly. 
The two of you walked to the neighborhood park, taking a small stroll around the pond watching the ducks swim. Suddenly Michael bolted towards the playground, dragging you behind him. 
“The swings are open!” He shouted. 
“Michael,” you half laughed, half shouted, trying to keep up with him. 
“Come on,” he said, letting go of your hand and grabbing the swing chains. “I’ll push you!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, embarrassed. 
“Please,” He rocked the swing side to side. “It’ll be fun!”
You shook your head as you finally relented, unable to resist his puppy dog eyes.
He grinned, holding the swing steady as you sat down. “Hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear before he started pulling the swing back. 
You giggled as you swung forward then back again, his hands catching you each time and pushing you higher and higher. Michael was busy enjoying himself, listening to you laugh as he pushed you harder, he forgot to pay attention to how hard he was pushing you and accidentally pushed you too hard. 
You fell forward, landing on your hands and knees. Hissing, you moved so you could sit properly. You bit your lip, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you tried to bend your knee to get a better look. You had a large gash that stung.
“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. Michael’s heart was hammering in his chest, he had never seen you upset before… your pain, your tears, hurt him more than the angry words his grandma had shouted at him yesterday. 
“I’ll be alright,” you said, mustering up a smile for him. 
Michael winced watching the blood drip down your calf. He thought about how the other nannies and sitters bled when they made him mad, they didn’t come back after that. Would you leave him now too? 
You scanned the area, hoping there was a bathroom or drinking fountain nearby so you could at least wash some of the blood off. 
“Here,” Michael said, taking a hold of your leg as he thought of a way to fix it. “I’ll kiss it better.” 
“You don’t have to-“
But he pressed his lips to your knee before you could stop him. The kiss lingered longer than the quick peck you had expected him to give. His eyes were closed, deep in concentration. Lifting his head, he licked the smear of blood off his lips. 
“All better,” he chirped. 
You ran your fingers over your knee, the cut was gone leaving your knee looked as good as new. “Michael, how did you…” 
You dropped the subject as you looked up at him, golden hair shining in the sunlight as he sat back in the grass. It seemed stupid to ask, healing your knee was probably easy compared to changing his age or any of the other strange things he had accomplished. 
“Can we go get a milkshake now you?” Michael yawned. “I’m hungry and tired.”
“Sure,” you replied, still dazed. 
He held out both of his hands to you, helping you up off the ground, and immediately laced his fingers with yours as he started leading the way. 
Michael insisted on sharing a milkshake with you, explaining he had seen couples doing that on TV. The two of you found a table near a window by the corner. 
“Want the cherry?” You asked Michael, using the tip of your straw to push it to his side. 
Right away he plucked it from the cup and popped it into his mouth with the exception of the stem. “Thanks,” he grinned, still chewing. 
“You’re very welcome,” you leaned forward taking a big sip. 
Michael bounced, “This has been the best date!”
You chuckled, “It really has been great.”
Out of nowhere, he leaned across the table and kissed your cheek. It was a quick and innocent little peck, but his face was beet red when he sat back down. You bit your lip thinking about how cute he was acting. 
Walking home, Michael smiled, a full genuine smile, his eyes lighting up as he gazed down at you. “I like being taller than you,” he laughed. 
You smiled back at him, your hand clasped together with his, swinging them between you. As you entered the house, you immediately noted how quiet it was. Something was wrong. 
“Constance, we're back,” you called out as you closed the door. You waited for a reply, but all there was was silence. 
“Michael,” you said softly, turning to him. “Wait right here, I’m going to go upstairs. Your grandma is probably just taking a nap.”
Michael watched you as you went upstairs, he didn’t understand why you seemed so distressed. He tried to wait like you had asked him to, but Grandma was probably just next door. She did that sometimes. 
He looked out the window towards the vacant house then back toward the direction you had gone. He could be back with Grandma before you’d even realize that he had left. 
“Grandma?” Michael called wandering into the large old house. He furrowed his brow, running towards the couch when he saw her. “Grandma?” 
His heart sped up when he saw her. 
“Grandma,” Michael crumbled to his knees. “Hey, wake up.” With shaky hands he held her. 
She didn’t move or breathe, her heart had stopped beating… Michael knew a dead body when he saw one, she was gone. This was all his fault, he drove her to this. There was something wrong with him. 
“I’m sorry,” he cried, hugging her lifeless body. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh God,” you covered your mouth as you finally found Michael and Constance. “Michael,” you stumbled towards him, immediately taking him in your arms and cradling him against you. 
“This is all my fault,” he sobbed, curling his knees to his chest, hands clutching your arm. “I’m a monster.” 
“No, you’re not a monster,” you soothed. “You didn’t do this.”
You rocked Michael in your arms, your eyes surveyed the living room, there was an empty pill bottle left discarded on the nearby coffee table along with a glass of liquor. You couldn’t understand why she would kill herself.
“I-I should call someone,” you said, trying to hold yourself together. 
“Don’t call the police,” a man’s voice advised seemingly out of nowhere. 
You snapped your head around and stared wide eyed at the dark haired man who just appeared out of nowhere. He was sitting in one of the arm chairs, legs crossed with relaxed posture. 
“They’ll just take Michael away. You don’t want that do you?” He asked you in a calm voice. 
You shook your head, your sweet Micheal had been through enough already, “Who are you? I thought this house was vacant.” 
The man blatantly ignored your questions and continued, “You should go pack Michael’s things, He’s going to be staying here with us for a while.”
Michael’s hands gripped you tightly. “Will you stay with me?” He croaked.
You could feel the man’s eyes on you, observing your reaction closely. Gently, you wiped Michael’s eyes, then tilted his head up. “Of course, I’ll stay with you.”
Michael sniffled, “Forever?”
You swallowed, glimpsing at Constance’s lifeless form then back to Michael. “Forever.”
The man stayed with Michael as you went next door. You felt like you were on autopilot as you folded his shirts and packed them into a duffle bag. 
Your life was about to change drastically, but you couldn’t refuse him. You couldn’t just abandon him when he needed you the most, especially not after the only family he had killed herself. 
You knew Michael was different, very different, but he still needed someone, someone that could accept and love him even with all the terrible and strange things that came with him… he needed you.
It didn’t take you long to piece together that Ben and the others in the house were ghosts, or perhaps they preferred spirits. 
Living in a haunted house took some getting used to. Michael adjusted faster than you did, you were secretly grateful that he wanted to share a room with you, so at least you weren’t alone at night. 
It was unnerving seeing them from the corner of your eye, only for them to disappear when you turned your head. Ben was the only one you had officially met so far, but you were aware that his family along with many others were trapped in the house. 
Michael quickly began to view Ben as a father figure. They spent a lot of time together playing games and having long conversations. 
You were happy that Michael was opening up to someone. From what you had gathered Ben was a psychologist, you hoped that he’d be able to help Michael, especially with the trauma of losing Constance. 
… 
You were doing laundry and other little chores around the house while Michael was busy with some father and son bonding with Ben. 
As you were getting clothes out of the dryer and into a wicker basket, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking up, you saw a young man with blonde hair like Michael’s staring at you from the doorway. 
Clutching Michael’s yellow t-shirt, you stared back at the man, who then sneered and simply vanished. You stayed planted there for several seconds as you wondered who he was. 
“Don’t let him get to you,” a woman’s voice said gently. You whipped around to see a woman with long strawberry blonde hair. 
“He won’t do anything,” she explained with a half smile. “Probably more curious than anything else.”
You furrowed your brow, “Curious about what?”
“You,” she answered. “And about why you’ve stayed.” Her eyes traveled to the shirt in your hands. “Guess some of us are just surprised you’ve stuck around.”
“Because Michael’s different from everyone else?” you questioned.
“That’s one way to put it,” she sighed and leaned against the washing machine. “He’s… he acts differently around you. You mean a lot to him.”
Looking at her sorrowful expression, it seemed like there was something she else wanted to say. You jumped as a baby began to cry. 
“I have to go,” she said, excusing herself. 
You sighed, shaking your head, living with ghosts was like having a bunch of eccentric roommates sometimes. You dropped Michael’s shirt with the rest of clean laundry in the basket, then knelt down to lift it up. Walking into the living room, you found Michael and Ben. 
Michael sprung off the couch and darted towards you. 
“So what did you and Ben do today?” You chuckled. 
“We just talked,” he replied, taking the basket from you. You waved to Ben before you and Michael headed up stairs. 
“Oh, about what?”
Michael shrugged, “Just stuff.” He paused mid-step and cleared his throat. “You look really pretty today.”
You bit your lip, face heating up a bit. Despite all the compliments Michael gave you daily, he had this way about him that made you believe every little one, even on a day like this where you were dressed in just joggers and a tee. 
“Thank you, Michael.”
Ben was gone. 
Michael sat there between the bodies, crushed as another parental figure abandoned him. Questions ran through his mind. Why did everyone leave? What was wrong with him? How could he do these things?
Sniffling, his eyes widened as you stepped in. His pulse spiked and he began to panic. He didn’t hear you come back to the house.This wasn’t part of his plan, you weren’t supposed to see this. 
You were quiet, so quiet with a vacant look in your eye as you stared at all the blood on the floor. 
Ben, Tate, grandma had all yelled at him, they called him a monster or a freak or a coward, but you didn’t say a word. 
You had seen what he had done, seen the bodies for yourself. You looked at him with a sadness in your eyes that Michael couldn’t bear. You simply retreated back up to the room you and him shared. 
Tears spilled freely down his face as he sat on the floor. Michael had never been so scared in his life. Were you in there packing your belongings? Were you going to leave? What would he do without you?
That’s why he had to kill them in the first place, because he didn't want to be separated from you. There was no other way. The new owners would call the police once they found out you and him were living there, and the police would take him away from you.
Michael had noticed how stressed it had made you too. He could sense your worry, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. From the very moment the realtor took the for sale sign down, you and him both knew everything was at risk. 
He just wanted to keep that from happening, he was happy here with you, happier than he had ever been. So he killed the new owners and got rid of them for good, this was his home now. 
He curled into himself, hands over his head as he wailed. 
“Michael?” Your voice was so soft that he didn’t hear you at first when you returned. “Michael, you should change.”
He peeked up, surprised you came back. You kept your distance, not crossing the threshold as if there was an invisible barrier. “Y/n?”
“You should change out of that,” you said again, looking at the black latex suit he was in.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he nodded, slowly getting to his feet. 
Going into the bathroom, he noticed you had set out some clean clothes for him to change into. 
Even though you were waiting for him in the room, the fear of you abandoning him hadn’t left. Michael hadn’t expected it when his grandmother left him. Were you just waiting for an opportunity to leave him? Lull him into a false sense of security then abandon him when he least suspects it?
Michael shook his head, you wouldn’t do that. 
“She’s not going to leave,” he whispered to himself before he pulled the clean white t-shirt on and the pair of pajama bottoms you had picked out for him. 
You were sitting on the edge of the bed when he emerged from the bathroom. You weren’t acting like yourself and it worried him. He noticed you hadn’t moved a muscle since he went in, you had just been staring at your hands the whole time. 
Michael’s fingers curled and uncurled as he awkwardly stood there. Wishing he knew what to say or do to make things right. 
“I’m sorry,” he started suddenly, falling to his knees in front of you. “I just didn’t want to be taken away from you. I didn’t want to leave this house.” He took your hands in his, looking up at you with genuine concern.
You nodded, you were able to piece that much together. Michael was scared and he handled the situation the only way he could, the only way he believed would keep you and him together. It was just a lot to process. 
Michael was your sweet boy, you never would have believed he was capable of something so terrible, but what was even more frightening for you was how you seemed to just accept it so easily. You weren’t mad or upset at him. Logically, you should’ve wanted to be far away from him after seeing those bodies on the floor, but looking at his face, you still cared for him, loved him. 
“We should get some rest,” you suggested. 
Michael swallowed thickly, climbing into the bed beside you as you turned out the lights. 
He couldn’t sleep, he was afraid that if he closed his eyes you’d take the chance and leave him in the middle of night. You felt both of his hands grip the back of your nightgown as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back. 
His mind kept returning to the fact that you had seen the truth, what he was capable of. Why did things have to change?
“Michael?” You could feel him tremble against you as he started sobbing again. When he didn’t respond, you tried to sit up, but that only made him cry harder while his fingers curled tighter, trying to keep you from leaving. 
“Don’t leave me,” he whimpered. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. 
He finally loosened his grip. 
You rolled over onto your side. Laying face to face, you brushed away his tears. 
Even in the dark, Michael thought you were the most beautiful person in the world. Always so kind and loving, he wanted to keep you forever. 
“Come here,” you said, opening your arms to embrace him. He rested his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 
“I’ve hurt people, not just the ones from earlier,” Michael admitted, swallowing thickly. “And I think I’m going to keep hurting people.”
Your fingers soothingly scratched his scalp as you held him close. He took in a deep breath, working up the nerve to finally ask the questions that were truly bothering him. 
“Can you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. “Even though I’ve done bad things?”
“I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” you answered without pause. “It’s a little scary for me to think about, that’s all.”
“You’re scared of me?” He asked, hurt evident in his voice. 
“No, I’m not afraid of you,” you reassured him, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s just that loving someone this much is scary.”
“I love you the same way,” Michael explained. “I’ll never stop loving you, y/n.”
The house was unbearably warm.
The heat left you drained, barely able to lift a finger, even though you just woke up. You kicked the sheets off but remained in bed, even that small action left you feeling exhausted. 
You laid there, still, listening to the hoarse caws of the crows that seemed to appear overnight. They lingered around the house, circling it at night. 
“Y/n?” Michael called. You usually didn’t sleep in so late, it was almost the afternoon. 
You smiled weakly at him, “Morning.”
“Are you okay?”
“Just tired,” you stretched your arms over your head on the bed. “And warm.”
Michael didn’t seem bothered by the strange heat that seemed to smother you. The air from the basement all the way to the attic was hot, there was no escaping it. 
“Can you get me some water?” You croaked.  
Michael nodded, heading downstairs and quickly returning to you with a glass of ice water. You shamelessly drained the glass, droplets rolling down your chin and neck. 
“Thank you,” you murmured, handing him the empty glass, before falling back onto your pillow. 
He stood there for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he could do. You looked so miserable, strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, your nightgown hiked up to cool your legs. 
Going into the bathroom, he prepared a washcloth with cold water. The bed dipped as he sat next to you, tenderly he dabbed the washcloth over your face. You hummed appreciatively, extending your neck as he moved it lower. He stroked the cloth over your collarbone, then down closer to your chest. 
He watched it rise and fall, hypnotically, your skin looked so soft, so tempting. Ben had talked to him about these kinds of feelings, about men and women and romantic love. He had said this was the kind of talk all fathers should have with their sons. He has seen Michael wanting to be closer to you, his desires to feel your skin against his. Ben assured him that it was natural and a completely normal part of growing up. But Ben had also made it clear that there were lines Michael couldn’t cross, lines that if he didn’t follow, he would end up hurting you. 
Michael sighed, pulling his hand away. Folding the wash cloth, he laid it on your forehead before leaving. 
Michael headed downstairs when he heard the front door open. You were still in a deep sleep as he tiptoed out of the room. He paused, finding three uninvited guests were standing in the entryway by the staircase. 
“I am in the presence of my Lord,” the man gasped and bowed. The two women behind him followed in suit. 
“Who are you?” Michael asked, tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 
“I am Anton LaVey, Black Pope of the Church of Satan,” the man introduced himself, then turned to his colleagues. “And there are my cardinals. I faked my death to prepare for this day.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael walked slowly down the steps. “What’s going on here?”
“We followed a dark start from the west,” one of the cardinals explained eagerly. “The signs were impossible to miss: the temperature in this house, a home built over the portal to Hell, and the crows worshiping from above.”
“The omens are complete,” the other one added. “You’re the chosen one.”
“The time has come to remove the scales from your eyes, to show you your true power,” Anton stated.
Michael smiled, full of excitement, “Alright, just make sure you’re quiet, y/n is sleeping.”
You woke up to the sound of hail falling on the roof. It frightened you at first. Instead of the typical soothing sounds of rain or hail, this was louder, more violent, like large stones crashing from the sky. 
You wondered if the storm was the source of the strange dreams you had all night, now you could only recall the screams from them. 
Slipping out of bed, you walked to the window drawing the curtains. The night sky was a strange color, dark red clouds hung above the house coupled with a full red moon. You watched the bizarre weather outside, red rain mixed with rock sized hail. The storm seemed to at least alleviate the constant heat in the house.  
Turning around, you noticed Michael’s absence from the bed. Wrapping a white sheet around your shoulders, you wandered downstairs to find him. Reaching the dining room, you found Michael with three strangers wearing black and red cloaks. 
There was blood on the table and floor, but no body. 
Michael beamed at you and offered you his hand, “y/n, I’ve got something to tell you.”
The Antichrist, it should’ve come as more of a shock, but with all the insane things that have happened lately, it made sense. It also should’ve changed how you felt, but it didn’t, Michael was still Michael. While there was no doubting the evil he was capable of, you still saw all the good, all the love. 
How could you hold it against him?
Michael laid there, eyes wide open as you slept beside him. He knew his mother was coming, that she planned on ending his life. 
The woman hadn’t bothered to speak to him, see him, and just like the rest of his supposed family, she was going to hurt him too. Sadly, he was no longer surprised by any of this. 
He could feel her approaching, a knife held tightly in her fist as she prepared to bring it down and end his life. Without having to move a muscle, Michael conjured up flames that ignited around Vivien’s feet. 
Her screams jolted you awake. Another spirit, the one you had briefly seen before, saved her while you tried to stop Michael. 
“She was going to kill me,” he argued. 
You saw the knife discarded on the floor for yourself. This house was no longer a safe place for Michael or yourself. The same day you and Michael left the old mansion. 
Living with Ms. Mead wasn’t what you had expected. It was surprisingly wholesome with meals shared at the dining table and family outings every weekend. If it wasn’t for the satanic altar, you’d probably forget that she was a satanist altogether. 
Ms. Mead treated you both well. Welcoming you into her home as if you and Michael were family. At first, you had been worried that she wouldn’t accept having you around, but she was just as warm and friendly with you as she was with Michael. 
“What do you think?” Michael asked as he emerged from the bathroom in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Ms. Mead had taken him shopping for clothes. Michael was excited to show you what they had picked out. 
You sat the nail polish on the nightstand as you sat up, giving Michael your full attention. 
“Black looks good on you,” you approved, looking him up and down. The outfit definitely suited him, much better than his old clothes. 
He smiled, obviously proud of his choices. “What were you doing?” He asked as he joined you on the bed, criss crossing his legs.
“I was just painting my toenails,” you shrugged. 
Michael gently touched your calf, his fingers tracing over your skin down to your ankle, while he admired your freshly painted toes. 
“Want me to paint yours?”
He yanked off his boots and socks, tossing them on the floor and causing you to laugh. You rearranged yourself so you were sitting on your knees. Michael’s pale boney feet rested on your thighs. 
“What color do you want?” You asked. 
“Black.”
He laid back on the bed, feet on the head board as he wiggled his toes while he waited for them to dry. 
“Read to me,” Michael requested in a whiny tone. “Please,” he added quickly as you lifted your brow.
You grabbed the worn book, opening it to where you left off, but before you started reading Michael interrupted you. 
“Here, lay next to me,” he offered, wiggling to the other side of the bed to give you room. 
You stretched out beside him, side to side, and started reading. It didn’t take long before Michael’s head was on stomach and his arm draped over your hips as he cuddled against you. He closed his eyes listening to the sound of your voice as it lulled him to sleep. 
You tucked the bookmark back into the book and sat it on the bed. Absentmindedly you ran your fingers through his hair. 
Over such a short time, he had changed so much, and not just physically, he was acting older, demonstrating maturity and restraint, although he still had his moments like this where he wanted to be held and babied. But, you figured, everyone had moments like this even if they never ask for it. 
You perked up when you noticed Ms. Mead standing in the doorway. How long has she been watching? 
“Let him sleep,” she said softly. 
Carefully you moved Michael and covered him with a blanket, then followed Ms. Mead into the kitchen. She had the tea kettle on the stove. 
“You really do love him, don’t you?” Ms. Mead asked, looking at you curiously. While she had been courteous towards you, she was curious about the true nature of your relationship to Michael. 
You tilted your head, wondering where this was coming from all of a sudden. 
“I’m just surprised,” she explained. “Not many people could accept him for what he is, even more so, someone who isn’t a follower of his father. But I’m glad to know that you truly care for him.” She motioned for you to have a seat at the table, and placed a cup of tea on a little saucer in front of you. 
You thanked her, before gently blowing on the hot cup and taking a sip. 
“He obviously adores you, which is why I allowed you to come with him,” she continued, taking her seat across from you with her own cup. “Guess I just feel protective of him already, wanted to see for myself if you were just stringing him along.”
You laughed slightly and shook your head, “I know what you mean, I was worried about you too. But you treat him just like a mother would, and I know he loves you for it.”
You and Ms. Mead smiled at each other while you finished your cup of tea. Your smile grew wider as a sleepy Michael slowly staggered into the kitchen. 
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Can we have pancakes for dinner?”
“Of course, dear,” Ms. Mead obliged. 
Michael had been arrested, leaving you a complete mess waiting at the station with Ms. Mead. The police 
refused to let you see him no matter how much you begged and pleaded. 
You were sitting in the lobby, staring at the assholes who wouldn’t let you see Michael, when a man dressed in a fine suit with a black hat came in, he strode right past the officers and straight to the holding cells with one of the guards leading the way. 
A few minutes later the well dressed man and Michael were heading directly to the exit. You immediately followed them out. 
You cupped Michael’s cheek, thumb caressing the red swollen mark by his eye. “Did they do that to you?”
“It doesn’t hurt too much,” he reassured you, placing a hand on your waist. 
Ariel cleared his throat, standing next to a black vehicle, “Michael it’s time for us to leave.” His gaze landed on you, a small sneer forming on his lips. 
Michael nodded, opening the car door for you. 
Ariel’s eyes went wide, “I’m afraid she can’t come with us. Our school is exclusively for warlocks.”
“Then I won’t be going,” Michael stated flatly, slamming the car shut.  
Ariel’s jaw dropped, “I saved you… I’m offering to take you to a place where you can flourish… where you can reach your full potential. You’re going to throw that all away for some woman?”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “I’m not leaving her, ever,” he stressed. 
Ariel scowled, grinding his teeth, he was considering using magic to force Michael in the car, but if Michael truly is the Alpha, like he suspects, then it would be suicide. His eyes darted to you, if he attempted to do anything to you, it would be safe to assume that the consequences would be even worse than death. 
“It’s not like you’ll never see her again. A boy’s school just isn’t the right place for a young lady to be,” Ariel reasoned. 
“The only place for her is with me,” Michael said, raising his voice. The two men stared at each other, it was clear that Michael wasn’t going to budge on the matter. 
“Fine!” Ariel relented, yanking the car door open and getting in. It wasn’t going to be easy to get others to go with this foolishness, but he couldn’t afford to let the Alpha slip through his fingers. 
Michael pulled the door open and waited for you to slide into the backseat before he scooted in after you. He placed his hand over yours, possessively, eyes fixated on Ariel as cold anger radiated off of him. 
The school wasn’t what you had expected. The underground structure was large and warm, but despite the size and construction, you couldn’t help but compare it to a cave. Already, you missed fresh air and sunlight as you followed Ariel, Michael still holding your hand for comfort. 
When Ariel introduced Michael to the group, he didn’t say a thing about you, just sort glazed over the fact that you even existed despite the puzzled gazes of the male students and staff. 
After a short tour, you and Michael were led to the room you both would be sharing in. Once inside, Ariel finally addressed you, giving you a few simple rules, as he put it, to follow. 
You were never to wander the school without an escort. You had to keep your distance from the other students and take your meals at different times than everyone else. Finally you had to wear a uniform, it was similar to the boy’s uniform, but instead of slacks, you had a full length skirt. 
Ariel left the two of you to get settled in and gathered the others in his office to explain the situation. 
“So,” John Henry mocked. “Our supposed Alpha, the one who will overthrow The Supreme and lead us to the top, can’t be without his little girlfriend?”
Ariel huffed, “I understand the girl is an inconvenience, but she’s just a minor obstacle. Michael won’t need her now that he’s here with his brothers.”
“Doubt it,” John Henry muttered, taking a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you see the way he looks at her? She practically walks on water in his eyes.”
“We just need to separate them, wean him off her slowly,” Ariel explained. “Then he’ll discard her.”
“I don’t know,” Behold said, shaking his head, “Love and devotion is a powerful thing.”
John Henry rolled his eyes, “Right, because the 4 of us know what that’s like… none of us have ever cared about anyone but ourselves.”
You helped Michael straighten his bow tie, then brushed his hair out of his face. 
“Perfect,” you chirped, taking a step back to admire how handsome he looked in his school uniform. 
He smiled, fixing his lapel before his hands ran down the front of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Ariel and the others are expecting me,” he started. “But they haven’t told me what we’re doing.”
It’s been only a month since your arrival, but from what you had gathered, Michael took to magic like a duck takes to water. Everyday he surprised you with a new trick or spell. Just the other day he surprised you with a beautiful white rose turning the petals pitch black right before your eyes. 
“I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be amazing.”
“Wish they’d let me bring you,” he muttered, pouting a little as he looked at his reflection. 
You shook your head, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”
Michael brought your hand to his chest, Ariel had been keeping him so busy with classes and studying that he felt like he barely had time for you lately. 
He didn’t appreciate being treated like a fool. He knew what his ‘brothers’ were up to, trying to keep him busy as if he’d just forget about you because he has homework. None of them could ever perceive the depths he’d go for you, hell, not even Michael fully knew how far he’d go to keep you by his side. 
Grudgingly, he released your hand, he didn’t want to have to listen to some lecture about tardiness from Ariel. And knowing Ariel he’d figure out a way to put all the blame on you, while making some snide comment about women and their inability to be punctual. The whole battle of the sexes between the warlocks and the witches was getting old. 
Later that day, Michael returned to you with a bloody nose and his body completely drained of energy. You rose from your seat at the desk as he collapsed on the bed still dressed. 
First, you went to the adjoining bathroom, retrieving a damp washcloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently dabbed the dried blood from his face. 
“How did the meeting go?” You asked. “What did they want?”
“To evaluate me,” he explained, his eyes half lidded. “I passed,” he smiled weakly. 
“I’m so proud of you,” you said, scooting you to the end of the bed and undoing the buckles on his shoes, before slipping them off his feet.
“Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and snuggling against his pillow. 
You watched Michael, his body was completely tense, stockstill, except for the hand that was drawing rapidly without pause. It was like he was in a trance, listening to a voice that you couldn’t hear.
Michael couldn’t let the witches leave. Ariel and the others were useless, unable to convince the council, but Michael could, he would prove to them just how powerful he is. 
He gasped suddenly, taking you by surprise. Looking down, he admired his work, the Hotel Cortez, the gaping mouth of hell. 
Michael turned to face you, “I have to leave, but I won’t be gone long.” He smiled triumphantly, “I found a way to show them I’m the Alpha, that I’m the next Supreme.”
It was easy for him, of course, like taking a casual stroll through the park. One of the benefits of being the Antichrist, he figured, having dominion over hell and all evil places born from it. 
First he rescued Queenie, freeing her from the hotel, then they made a trip to Madison Montgomery’s personal hell. With his proof in tow, he returned to the school. 
Watching Cordelia pass out from the shock brought him more satisfaction than he anticipated, but hearing her admit that he could be the next Supreme was even sweeter. 
He stood there holding his head high with you at his side. While Cordelia addressed the group, sharing her vision. It was ironic that a vision warning her of the end, was the final straw, finally convincing her to allow him to attempt the Seven Wonders. 
“In two weeks' time, at the rise of the blood moon, you will take the test of the Seven Wonders,” she announced, eyes locked with Michael’s. “That is, if you still want to.”
Everyone turned to face him, awaiting his decision. He glanced at you, squeezing your hand tightly before letting it go as he approached Cordelia. 
“I do.”
Myrtle Snow knitted her brow, it hadn’t escaped any of their attention that there was a woman on the side of the warlocks. 
“My dear,” she began, getting your attention. “Why are you here? You’re not a witch, are you?”
“I’m not,” you shook your head with a polite smile. 
“She’s with me,” Michael stated firmly, hands clasped behind his back as his gaze pierced Myrtle’s. 
“Of course, he’s got a girlfriend,” Madison rolled her eyes. 
Cordelia inhaled deeply as she returned to the matter at hand. “No male has ever made the attempt,” she warned, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand. “And if you succeed, you will be the next Supreme, and it will change everything.”
On the cusp of the blood moon, the warlocks gathered to celebrate Michael. He almost threw a fit when Ariel informed him that you weren’t permitted to attend, adding that attendance for the ceremony was strictly warlocks. 
Ariel’s hands balled into fists as you talked Michael down, convincing him that for this type of occasion it was polite to respect tradition. 
Ariel was displeased that his plan wasn’t working. Michael’s attachment to you was still strong, the same as it was when he first arrived at the school. What good would it be to have an Alpha that bent to the will of a woman?
Michael insisted that tomorrow night you were present for the Seven Wonders, going as far as threatening to not perform if you weren’t there. 
When Ariel finally relented, Michael followed him downstairs for the ceremony. 
John Henry fled after the blessing. The following day when the witches had arrived to observe Michael’s abilities, John Henry still hadn’t returned. None of the other warlocks questioned his absence, instead they were focused on the daunting task at hand, hoping Michael could accomplish what no warlock had ever done before. 
Michael passed each test with ease to the dismay of the witches and to the satisfaction of the warlocks. 
Telekinesis, Concilium, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, Vitalum Vitalis… Michael made them look like child’s play. With each challenge Michael impressed you more and more, accomplishing magic that you had never imagined. His eyes would lock with yours and he’d smile triumphantly after each task as you cheered and congratulated him with the rest of the warlocks. 
Descensum was the final test and the most perilous. Michael was the only one who didn’t seem worried about the outcome. 
Unexpectedly, Cordelia added an additional condition, Behold was the first to object, the others soon followed. She requested for Michael to retrieve someone from the depths of hell, someone who failed this exact test.
“That’s impossible. Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever,” Behold defended. “Property of the underworld.”
“No other Supreme’s been made to this, ever,” Baldwin added. “This is not only unfair, this is suicide.”
“Enough,” Ariel spoke up with some urgency. “Cordelia, I need a word.” The Supreme and the Grand Chancellor retreated into his office for a private discussion. 
You tugged on Michael’s sleeve to get his attention, then guided him to the corner furthest from everyone in the room. 
“What is it?” He asked gently, immediately noting the anxious look on your face. 
“This sounds dangerous,” you started, fingers clutching his jacket sleeve tighter. “And now they’re making it even harder…”
He stepped closer to you, his hands cupping your face. “I can do this.”
“But what if you get trapped there like that other girl,” you whispered. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’m stronger than she was,” Michael assured you. “Trust me.” He dried your eyes.
Taking your hand in his, he led you towards Ariel’s office. The doors opened revealing Cordelia and Ariel inside. 
“It’s okay,” Michael smiled. “I’ll get your friend back.”
Returning to the music room, Michael prepared for the final test. 
“Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi,” he chanted laying on the floor. You were right beside him, on your knees, while everyone else stood in a circle around him. “Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi, Descensum.”
You stayed seated by Michael as his eyes closed and his spirit descended to the underworld. The others got comfortable, finding seats and idly conversing with each other. 
Time seemed to slow down as you waited with bated breath for him to come back. The thought of losing him scared you more than anything ever had. Your whole life revolved around him.
Michael gasped, drawing in a deep breath as he sat up immediately. You pulled him into a tight hug, relieved that he returned to you. His energy obviously spent as he rested against you like a rag doll. 
The others gathered around. The witches automatically taking note that Misty hadn’t returned. 
“Well that’s that,” Madison said, crossing her arms. “C'est la vie.”
“This was not a fair test,” Ariel objected, concerned more with having lost the opportunity for a male Supreme than the harrowing task Michael had just been through. 
“What happened?” Cordelia asked. “Where’s Misty?”
Michael gave her a sideways glance, his face partially resting on your shoulder as you held him close, he looked at her disinterested before he buried the rest of his face in the crook of your neck.
“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” Myrtle spoke up. “She’s right where she’s been.”
Suddenly dust manifested in the form of a woman’s body. Cordelia fell to her knees as Misty was revived. 
As the witches tended to their sister, the warlocks helped a weary Michael off the floor. He leaned against the table for support, still catching his breath from his recent excursion to hell. He reached out for you, placing his hands on your waist, as you stood between his legs with his head on your stomach, he drew comfort just by being near you. 
Michael straightened up as he felt Misty’s eyes upon him, his hands still lingering on your waist. His jaw tensed, noting her fearful expression. But before Misty could say anything, Cordelia stumbled back and her nose began to bleed.
“Oh my God,” Cordelia whispered. 
Misty went straight to her side, “What’s happening?”
“What always happens when a new Supreme rises,” Ariel interjected. 
“The old one fades away,” Behold explained. 
“We demand what’s ours,” Ariel added. 
Myrtle scoffed, “You’re a pompous ass.”
Michael stepped forward, an air of confidence and power about him. “I did everything you asked,” he started. “I descended into Hell, and I did what you couldn’t. I brought her back. I passed the Seven Wonders. Unless you want to add another one?” He challenged. 
“No,” Cordelia answered. “There can be no doubt. You are the next Supreme.” She collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness again. 
The staff and other students were beaming with pride over the accomplishments of their brother. Michael was elated, he was one step closer to fulfilling his purpose. 
In celebration of the return of Misty Day and the rise of a new Supreme, everyone gathered in the music room. While you were on your way to join the rest, Ariel stopped you. 
“Y/n,” He called. 
“Grand Chancellor,” you greeted.
He smiled, but it was obviously forced just like the tone of his voice, too pleasant. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”
You raised your brow, “I suppose.”
“We’re all so proud of Michael and what he has achieved,” he began, hands clasped in front him. “It’s truly a major turning point for our kind, to finally rise out of the shadow of our counterparts, the witches.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” you muttered, hearing music play from the room and a woman singing.
“It has been such a struggle to get to this point,” he stressed.“It would be a great setback for warlocks should Michael be unable to focus on his duties as Supreme.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” you took a step back.
Ariel sighed, losing his patience, “You are a distraction. You are not the person Micheal needs to concern himself with, you’re not a warlock or a witch, you’re just some girl.”
“But I-“
“Don’t you see,” he interrupted you, getting heated. “He’s with his people now, he no longer needs you.”
You closed your mouth as his words sunk in. Maybe he was right. You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but it was as if he was speaking your own fears out loud. You weren’t sure how you fit into all this, and for the last couple of months, you worried that Michael truly didn’t need you. 
Standing on the interior balcony, Michael’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ariel enter the music room late. Michael had been waiting for you to join him but you were nowhere in sight.
The two warlocks nodded in acknowledgement at each other as Michael waited a few moments longer, he could care less about the performance taking place below. Concerned about your tardiness, he went to find you. Ariel shook his head in disappointment as he watched Michael leave. 
Michael headed upstairs and entered your room. “Are you alright?” He asked.
“I’m fine,” you answered, taking a seat on the bed and mustering a smile for Michael.
He could tell you were lying, you were visibly upset and on the verge of tears. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. 
“Michael,” you started, your eyes finally meeting his. Looking up at him you couldn’t help but think of all the things he had accomplished lately, developing his powers, passing all these tests, he was doing so many great things, so why were you here? “Do you still need me?”
“Of course, I do,” he responded without pause. He then shook his head. “Even if I didn’t need you, I want you.”  He wondered where all this was coming from, was this because he wasn’t spending enough time with you? Was Ariel’s idiotic plan affecting you?
Michael sat across from you at the desk. “Are you thinking about leaving?” 
“I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. “But are you sure I’m not distracting you?”
“Is this Ariel’s doing? Did he say something to you?” Michael pursed his lips, jaw clenched. The Grand Chancellor was really pushing his luck. Michael figured it might be necessary to remind him who was the Alpha, the future Supreme.
Getting to his feet, his brow lowered as he thought about what to do. His hands curled into fists that were shaking out of anger. 
“Michael,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you. “Stop, please.”
“He wants you to leave me,” he snapped angrily. “I won’t let that happen.”
You rushed after Michael as stormed out of the room. The sliding black doors of Ariel’s office slammed open with a flick of Michael’s wrist. 
“Michael-“ Ariel started but was immediately flung to the wall. 
Your eyes widened, watching as Ariel’s hands grasped at his neck, his nails puncturing his skin as he scratched while desperately gasping for air. His legs were kicking and flailing about as he was being suffocated. 
“Michael,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “Micheal, stop,” you begged.
He looked at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. “And Ariel finally understands.” You looked at Ariel who managed to nod. “See,” you said, rubbing his arm. “You got your point across.”
Ariel fell to the floor, landing on his hand and knees, panting. 
“What’s going on in here?” Behold questioned wandering into the office. 
“Nothing,” Ariel croaked, slowly rising to his feet.
Behold didn’t look convinced. He was figuring out that Michael couldn’t be trusted, wasn’t what he had presented himself to be. John Henry was missing and the witches had their suspicions as well. 
“Michael lost control, just for a moment, he’s been under a lot of stress,” you explained calmly. “He’s due for a break.”
Behold lifted his brow, Michael just looked straight up pissed in his opinion. “Alright,” he muttered, the last thing he needed was for Michael to turn that anger on him. He stood there watching as you and Michael left, before asking Ariel if needed anything. 
Returning to your room, Micheal immediately embraced you, hugging you from behind as he buried his face into your hair. You two stood there for several minutes, his arms holding you firmly in place. 
“I should speak to my father,” he murmured finally. 
You nodded. 
Michael’s hold loosened, “I should go alone.” He sighed, touching your hair gently. “I won’t be gone long.”
When the witches, Bubbles and Myrtle, arrived, you were tasked with entertaining them until Ariel and Bladwin returned. They had no trouble making themselves at home while you served champagne and Myrtle played the theremin. 
When Ariel and Baldwin entered the music room, the two witches insisted that you join them and the warlocks for the dinner they had prepared. 
“Bubbles, you’ve exceeded your promise,” Ariel complimented. “This is a meal fit for a Supreme.”
She chuckled, “Oh, thank you so much.”
It truly was quite a spread, platters of food you probably couldn’t even pronounce, sat on the table presented in a most lavish way. It seemed excessive that there was so much food for just 5 people. 
“Where is our dear Michael?” Myrtle questioned looking at you. “I was hoping he could join us.”
“In the wilderness,” Baldwin answered for you, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Literally. Michael has decided that he needs to be completely alone.”
“I’m surprised you’re not with him dear,” Myrtle stated, her eyes still on you. “The two of you seemed attached at the hip.” 
You could feel Ariel watching you closely. “He just needed some time to himself,” you shrugged with a smile. 
“Cordelia had a similar awakening,” she shared with you, before offering Ariel more wine. 
You listened attentively to Myrtle’s story about the amazing little shop in Madrid where she attained the bottle of wine. You didn’t know much about wine, but from what you gathered from her story, this was most likely the nicest and most expensive wine you’d ever try in your life. 
“This has been such a delight,” Myrtle announced. “I knew, if we could dine together, we could find commonality and, dare I say, friendship.”
“Oh, my. It’s getting late,” she added with a slight yawn.
“Oh. It is.” Ariel agreed, laughing weakly. “Very late. But I feel like we’ve finally gotten to know each other.”
“Oh, don’t bother,” Bubbles said, gesturing to the full table. “We’ll clear everything up.”
You offered to stay and lend a hand with cleaning to the surprise of Bubbles and Myrtle. How a kind girl like yourself wound up with someone like Michael, seemed like such a cruel fate. 
During dinner, Bubbles had already determined that you were innocent. You weren’t involved with John Henry’s death or the plot to overthrow their coven and kill the witches. Seemed that Michael kept you out of all the seediness and corruption happening around you. 
“Thanks again for dinner,” you said, clearing the plates from the table. “You really are a fantastic chef.”
“I’m a woman of many talents,” Bubbles boasted. 
“How did you become involved with our future Supreme?” Myrtle inquired, taking a sip of her glass of wine. 
“I’ve known him for a long time,” You answered vaguely, but Bubbles could see right through you, she could see directly to the feelings you harbored for Michael. 
They watched as you carried the dishes into the kitchen. Bubbles sighed, “Poor girl’s only crime is falling for the bad guy.”
“Suppose we can’t hold it against her,” Myrtle commented. “We've all been there at some point or another.”
Bubbles chuckled, “You’re right, but few can say they’re in love with the devil himself.”
“It’s terribly romantic, isn’t it?” Myrtle mused, tilting her head. She sighed, “Well, what else did you hear?”
“They murdered one of their own,” Bubbles answered in a serious tone. “And now they mean to murder all of us.” 
“Well, it’s perfectly clear,” Myrtle continued, swirling her wine glass. “It’s kill or be killed.”
“Ariel Augustus. Baldwin Pennypacker. For the murder of your fellow warlock, John Henry Moore, and conspiring to commit treason against this coven, I, Cordelia Goode, on behalf of this council, sentence you to death by fire.”
The coven guards doused Ariel and Baldwin in gasoline.
“Our people have long stood by an agreement that no witch may kill a condemned warlock,” Cordelia added. “Only your brother may light the flame. I do not intend to break that tradition today.”
John Henry emerged to the surprise of Ariel and Baldwin, gracefully, striding between the stakes to join the witches at Cordelia’s side. 
He scanned the area, eyes moving from stake to stake. He furrowed his brow, “Where’s his girlfriend?” He turned to Cordelia, “We need to destroy her. It’s the only way we can really hurt him.”
“We’re not burning an innocent girl on the stake,” Cordelia defended. “She wasn’t involved in your murder, Bubbles verified that already.”
John Henry shook his head, they were all blind to the facts, he didn’t want to kill her, but he could see it just like he could see what Michael truly was. “She’s his weakness…” he argued. “I’ve seen how he is with her, he’d fall apart.”
“No,” Cordelia stated firmly. 
John Henry tsked, snatching one of the gasoline cans, dumping the contents all over Ms. Mead. 
“Any last words?” He asked, returning to Cordelia’s side as he faced his brothers and murderer. “Ah, right,” he teased, motioning to his mouth. 
“You think death is a punishment?” Ms. Mead shouted. “I do not fear the fire. It cleanses me, as it will cleanse this world. I’ve seen the end. I bear witness to the darkness.” 
She looked up to the blue sky, “Father! Take me in your arms. Your kingdom is nigh.”
John Henry and Cordelia shared a look. She nodded to him signaling that it was time. With a wave of his hand, John Henry ignited the torches. The guards, then, set the lit torches at the feet of the condemned. In a matter of seconds flames engulfed Ariel, Baldwin, and Ms. Mead. 
Michael’s hand cautiously reached out towards the last corpse, after he identified the first two as Ariel and Baldwin. He stumbled backwards, hands shaking, as he saw his Ms. Mead being burned alive. 
An emotional and raw scream erupted from him, as pain and sadness filled him. With a hand over his chest, he wailed, it felt as if he couldn’t get any oxygen to his lungs and like his heart was being constricted by a snake, its tail coiling tightly around it as if it was a weak little mouse.
“It’s over,” Cordelia said, appearing behind him. “We know who you are.”
Michael turned to face her. 
“Your allies are all dead,” she announced. “You failed.”
“I’ve already proven that I can defy death. I’m just gonna bring her back,” Michael retorted. “And when I do, my Ms. Mead will stand by me as we watch you die.”
“You can certainly go to Hell, but you won’t find her there,” Cordelia warned. 
“What have you done?” 
She explained that Ms. Mead’s soul was hidden away and that the spell was one only she could break. As Michael realized that he’d never see Ms. Mead again, he dropped to his hands and knees. 
“You’re alone,” she added.
“I’m never alone. I have y/n and I have my father,” he snapped. 
“That poor girl deserves better,” Cordelia said coldly. She took several steps toward Michael. “And where is your father? Why did he let this happen?”
Michael looked up at her as she knelt down. 
“You don’t have to follow this path your father laid out for you. You can write your own destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you. I see it,” she stood back up and offered Michael her hand. “If you come with me, maybe we can find it. Together.”
He accepted her hand, but aggressively moved closer, his eyes burning with hatred towards the witch. “Somehow, some way, I am gonna bring her back. And then I’m gonna kill every last one of you.” 
As the threat left his lips. A thought crossed Cordelia’s mind and images flashed in Michael’s head. His eyes widened, staring at Cordelia in disbelief. 
The witches had revived John Henry, back from the dead, and he and Behold were returning to the school. Michael’s hands began to tremble, releasing Cordelia’s hand, as he could hear the words John Henry had spoken to her during the execution. John Henry had made threats towards you, expressed that he wanted to dispose of you to hurt Michael, to stop him. 
Michael made up his mind at that moment, he wouldn’t allow John Henry to have the opportunity, he’d kill them all to protect you. He couldn’t believe they’d stoop so low, would the witches be the next to try?
Without time to waste, Michael left towards the school. 
He sat there panting, the lifeless corpses of his brothers laying all around him. Michael had no one except for you, he had no Ms. Mead to guide him, he had no support with his magic anymore, no followers. And the witches were still a threat. 
He felt like he was crumbling beneath the weight of it all, but he had to make sure you were safe. He may have been able to keep you safe and massacre the warlocks, but what if the witches went after you next?
Taking in a deep breath, Michael stared up at the staircase towards the direction of your room. He would do anything to keep you safe. 
Rising to his feet, he slowly made his way to you. 
“Michael?” You asked, sitting up on the bed as he entered the room.
He wished that he could just crawl into bed next to you. But there was so much that needed to be done. He had to kill the witches, avenge Ms. Mead, and fulfill his purpose. 
He crouched down beside the bed in front of you. “The witches, they killed Ms. Mead,” he said quietly, voice hoarse from screaming. 
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, leaning down to embrace him. 
Michael placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling away from you a bit, he wanted to get a better look at you. He stared at your face, committing every detail to memory. 
“I need to put you under a spell,” Michael started to explain. “I have to hide you from anyone who’d want to hurt you.”
You furrowed your brow as his words sunk in. He was going to leave you behind. Your lips quivered as you started to cry. 
“Who’s… who's going to take care of you?” You hiccuped, cupping his face, your thumbs gently wiping the tears from the apple of his cheeks. 
Picturing Michael alone, without anyone to turn to, no one to make sure he was okay, was literally breaking your heart. You couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t let him do this. You had promised to stay with him forever. 
He placed his hands over yours. “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to put on a brave face. “But I can’t lose you too, I can't… you're all that I have left.”
Your shoulders shook as you cried harder. 
“I’m going to take care of you this time,” Michael promised. “I’ll figure it out and then we’ll never have to be apart. You’ll be at my side forever.”
Micheal closed the distance between you and him, his lips finding yours with ease. His first real kiss was an emotional kiss goodbye, one in which he desperately wanted to convey his devotion for you. Your eyes fluttered shut, his hands squeezed yours tighter, you pressed your lips to his tenderly, returning the kiss. 
He casted his spell before pulling away, and watched as you fell into a deep sleep like a princess in a fairy tale. As an extra precaution he wiped your memories as well. 
***Present***
“It’s alright,” Michael comforted, tucking your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you.
It was a lot to take in at once, an entire lifetime coming back to you in a matter of seconds. Michael waited patiently, hand drawing circles on back, as you composed yourself. Having you back made him feel whole again, the one constant in his life. He was never letting go of you again. 
“What is it?” He asked as you sat up and cupped his cheek. 
“You’ve changed,” you whispered, gazing at him. He looked older, more mature and refined, his long golden hair somehow made him even more handsome than you remembered. He now exuded confidence that almost bordered on conceitedness. 
He lifted his brow, “Have I?”
You nodded, causing him to smirk, you were always so honest. 
“In what ways?” He teased, titling his head, and holding your hand to his face. “Am I more attractive now?”
You shook your head, laughing lightly, “Not sure how you managed it, but yes you’re more handsome than I remember.”
“So,” he murmured lowly. “You like the new me?” Michael turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Tell me,” he said against your skin. 
“Didn’t we have this conversation earlier?” You questioned. 
“But that was before you remembered,” he challenged, looking at you from the corner of his eye. 
“My answer is still the same, everything, I like everything about you.” 
“I believe you,” He closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, and then opening them again. He examined you for a moment, just like before it was as if he could see right through you. 
“You haven’t changed,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s comforting.” His lips tickled your fingertips as he returned your hand to you. 
Michael may not have the typical image of home as most, but he suspected that being reunited with you, is what it felt like to come back home. 
He leaned forward, hands firmly on your thighs, as his lips lightly grazed against yours. You felt the side of his nose caress yours, your hands slowly raised up from your lap and clung to him. 
Suddenly he groaned in frustration as the bedroom door opened. 
“Ladies, I’m a little busy right now,” Michael muttered, breaking the kiss as he glanced at Ms. Venable and Ms. Mead who entered the room uninvited. 
Ms. Venable gave you a cold look, she couldn’t say she was surprised to see you here. She long had her suspicions, this only confirmed them. “This won’t take long,” She addressed Michael, walking further into the room. 
Michael sighed, exasperatedly, his touch leaving your form as he straightened up and turned his chair to give Ms. Venable his attention. “What’s this?”
“We’re making the selections now, Mr. Langdon,” Ms. Venable stated, standing tall across from Michael. “And I’m afraid that neither of you made the cut.”
Michael bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in,” he gestured to himself. 
“You think this is funny?” Ms. Venable pressed, obviously unamused. 
“I think I’m impressed, Ms. Venable,” Michael 
“I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
Gracefully, Michael rose to his feet. “You passed the test. You’re perfect for The Sanctuary.”
“Mrs. Mead,” Ms. Venable ordered. 
You scrambled off the bed, moving in front of Michael, the moment Ms. Mead drew the gun out from her jacket. You didn’t understand what was going on, or why Ms. Mead was following Ms. Venable’s orders. 
Michael looked at you fondly, with a slightly amused expression. His sweet y/n ready to protect him, to defend him, even knowing that he could literally kill people with a snap of his fingers. 
Of course, you weren’t in any real danger. He knew Ms. Mead would never hurt you, just like she was programmed to never hurt him. He placed his hands on your shoulders. 
“I wouldn’t do that,” he warned Ms. Venable before glancing towards Ms. Mead and giving her a silent command.
“Ms. Mead,” Ms. Venable repeated, her tone irritated as she turned to face her co-conspirator. 
Ms. Mead, with some unwillingness by the look of her face, went from pointing the gun at Michael to directing it toward Ms. Venable. Without hesitation, Ms. Mead fired. 
You flinched at the sound of the gunshot, drawing back against Michael, who reassuringly squeezed your shoulders while smirking with satisfaction over what just transpired. 
Ms. Venable dropped to the floor gasping as she started to bleed out from the wound in her chest. 
Michael’s hands slid down your arms, walking around you towards Ms. Venable.
“I don’t know why I did that,” Ms. Mead questioned, sadness laced in her voice. “I was always loyal to her.”
“It’s all right,” Michael spoke calmly, crouching down, his arms resting on his knees as he watched Ms. Venable die. “You were obeying commands, like you’re programmed to do,” he explained. “My commands.”
You knitted your brows together finally piecing together what was going on. You had been so invested on your and Michael’s reunion, that you hadn’t ask how he was able to revive Ms. Mead. 
“Did you enjoy executing the poison apples plan as much as I enjoyed coming up with it?” Michael asked Ms. Mead, standing back up. 
“You wanted everyone dead?”
“I’ve never been a fan of getting my hands dirty,” he reasoned. “Learned that from my father.”
Ms. Mead’s lips trembled as she processed all the new information and her grief. 
“Always more fun to entice men and women to do dirty deeds. Confirms what I’ve always believed,” Michael mused.
“What do you believe?”
“That all people, if given the right pressures or stimulus, are evil motherfuckers,” he declared. “All except for y/n, of course,” he chuckled, looking at you before returning his attention to Ms. Mead.
“I’m having trouble with this,” she shook her head. “I know I’m just a machine.”
“Never say that,” he said forcefully. “You’re not just a machine. Not to me. When I tasked The Cooperative’s R&D department to have you constructed, I gave them a prototype to model.”
“A prototype?” She asked, hanging on to each and every word Michael said. 
“Someone from my childhood,” he shared, approaching her slowly. “Someone very dear to me.”
Her expression changed as realization struck her. “The beautiful boy.”
“That was me,” Michael answered, his eyes glossy as he held back tears. “But I had to keep the most important part of you hidden from your mind, just like I had to with y/n.”
“Why?”
“To protect you and the plan,” he said. “But now it’s time to remember it all.“ His eyes flickered to the ground for a brief moment, head shaking slightly as he continued to speak. 
“I lost you and I couldn’t bear it. And after that, I had to hide y/n to keep her safe.” His heart ached recalling all the pain, misery, loneliness he felt after losing the only people who loved him. “I can’t imagine a new world without you both by my side.”
Her eyes darted to you, “So that’s why I felt connected to you, like I needed to watch over you.”
You smiled at her and nodded, “You’ve always been good to me.”
Michael embraced Ms. Mead tightly. He finally had the only people who mattered back. The only people who ever showed him love and kindness. The rest of the world could burn now. 
Pulling back, Michael smiled at you and offered you his hand. His thumb caressed your knuckles lovingly while his other arm lingered around Ms. Mead. “You both are the only people I never stopped trusting or loving.” 
His eyes narrowed as he noticed the blood splattered on your dress. “There’s a dress for you in the armoire,” he motioned towards it. “Go change, I’ll catch Ms. Mead up on things.”
In the adjoining bathroom, you stripped out of your purple dress, letting it fall to the floor. Looking at your reflection, you fixed your face, wiping away the streaks of mascara from under your eyes. 
The dress was more contemporary than the purple attire you had grown accustomed to. The black fabric was smooth and luxurious. Pulling it on, it fit you like a glove, hugging the curves of your hips and thighs.
You frowned as you found that you couldn’t reach the zipper on the back. You cleared your throat as you emerged from the bathroom. “I can’t zip it up.” 
Michael strode towards you and stood behind you, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your back as they traveled down to the zipper. Taking his time he pulled it up. 
His eyes traveled up and down your figure as he admired the dress on you, “A perfect fit.”
Michael tensed suddenly, eyes darting to the side, standing still as if waiting for something to happen. 
“What is it?” Ms. Mead asked. 
“I sense a powerful presence,” he responded, eyes shifting as he concentrated on whoever just arrived. 
“What do you mean? Everyone’s dead,” she said, looking concerned. 
“Not anymore,” Michael answered. He extended his hand out towards you, fingers curling around your palm. “Let’s greet our guests.”
Ending 1
Ending 2
1K notes · View notes
Note
request: when daddy michael basically grabbed his dick when he says “a man such as myself”. now when I see that all I can think about is you walking in on him pleasuring himself. he looks at you right in the eyes and keeps going and you help him
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warnings: smutish
word count: 557
a/n: I've gotten sooooo many requests like these so I'm gonna combine all of them.
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It was her quiet, mythical essence.
That's what drew him to her in the first place.
The way she sat, fidgeting across from him as he interrogated her. The anxious picking at her nails. She was so light and heavenly. God, he wanted to ruin her.
He would knock on her door, asking for a second interview. She would be in her rose nightgown which makes her look so fuckable.
He'd lead her down the hallway and into his office before shutting the door. He'd get her all anxious, asking perverted sex-related intimidating questions. She would get all flushed and wouldn't know what to say- or what to do.
The idea of feeling her body- her angel-like body. She looks like she has the smoothest skin and the best-smelling scent. He has never met anyone who is this breathtaking.
He would roam her, squeeze and dig his nails into every inch of her while nipping at her neck.
"Tell me, Y/N..." Michael would say, "Tell me how many men you've fucked."
"None, sir." Her shaky voice would respond.
It had to be none.
Michael was able to just tell.
And her calling him sir? That really would get him going.
For now, he's grabbing his cock, moving up and down slowly to tease himself.
He would sink to his knees and devour her pussy while she was bent over his desk. He would feel it pulse against his tongue as she lets out shaky moans.
When she cums- the idea of her cumming makes him jerk his cock faster.
He wants her to cum all over his face and after she does, he takes himself out because he is dying to fuck her at this point. He would shove himself deep into her and fuck her hard immediately- showing no mercy.
She would say it was too much, but he would grab her hair and tug it back gently.
"Aw, you can take it," Michael would coo in her ear. "I know you can, baby. You were made for me."
He's toying with himself quickly now, letting out shaky breaths. He is too infatuated with the thought of fucking Y/N till she cries to realize that his door is slightly open.
As Michael fantasized, Y/N walks past his door; in her defense, it was on the way to her room. She glances for a second while walking by, but then pauses. She slowly moves back towards the door and peaks in for a moment.
Michael was laying on his bead, forehead sweaty, jerking his cock in fast motions.
She moves away from the door.
Oh my God. I'm a creep.
She wonders what to do... if she should shut the door so no one bothers him if she should just walk away, or...
No, Y/N, You can't do that.
"Y/N." She hears Michael say before she jumps and lets out a small gasp. She stays quiet, petrified that he'll do something to her. "Y/N..."
Oh... fuck.
"Yes... fuck." Michael continues. Y/N then peaks back into the room and he's working it even faster now. He rolls his head back, facing his door, and then opens his eyes, making direct contact with Y/N.
He smiles softly and doesn't stop what he's doing, staring directly into Y/N's eyes.
She feels like she can't move, but God she wants him right now.
"Close the door on your way in." He says.
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I just found this in my drafts from months ago. Idk why I didn't post it. Sorry.
377 notes · View notes
evan4ever · 1 year
Text
Masterlist
Requests are open but please be patient and remember that I may not be comfortable writing one or able to put a specific request together if I don’t seem to share yours. It’s nothing personal, I’m trying my very best!
Evan Peter character ships are currently CLOSED
Leave a comment if you’d like to be on the tag list!
Evan Peters
Vegas, baby part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11 *** links aren’t working correctly!! Trying to fix them
Unlikely lovers, part 2, part 3
Lazy sex
Tease
Cramps
Please
Baby just say yes
7up & saltines
For the single moms
I Don’t Share
NSFW Alphabet
Kit Walker
Special treatment part 1, part 2
Deal
Comfort
Forgive me
Bruised
Let Her Go
A lie for me
Long day
I’m here (TW)
Scarred
Kai Anderson
Why Do I Love You?
All I needed
Better than me
Sick
James Patrick March
For eternity
Innocence
Tate Langdon
You’re so pretty, it hurts
Kyle Spencer
Sick Boy
Don’t let me fool you
Warren Lipka
I didn’t know where else to go
Aftercare
If you love me
588 notes · View notes
stayevildarling · 5 days
Note
could you do a hurt-comfort fic w either:
lou x tammy x reader
orrrrr
wilhemina x regina mills x reader pleaseee
Wilhemina Venable x Regina Mills x Reader- Burying our memories (AU)
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A/N: I think this is absolutely not what you expected with this request dear anon. However the first thing I thought of was an AU with dark Mina x the evil Queen so I hope nevertheless you enjoy this <3 For anyone who has watched ouat please ignore how I altered the curse and changed the story
tw: dark mina, evil queen, cursing, degrading, blood, pain, angst, hurt
word count: 7k
taglist:
@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime
The dense greenery of the enchanted forest sways gentle in the cool breeze, casting shifting patterns of shadow and light upon the forest floor. With swift motions, you run through the tangled undergrowths, your breathing coming in ragged gasps as you glance over your shoulders, trying to see if they had gone, if you were safe.
Moments before, your day looked like it usually did, as you found yourself in the heart of the village, your heart heavy with the weight of injustice. The villagers lacking the most basic things including food, water and supplies to survive, due to the Queen's oppressive rules. And somehow over the years, after slowly losing your family and purpose altogether, you turned out to be an aid for the poor lost souls in the forest and village, their silent pleas echoing in the depths of your soul.
Somehow you had turned into your own version of a Robin Hood, wanting to help out, regularly crossing boundaries and stealing from the Queen's garden and palace grounds in order to provide for them, rid them of the poverty and pain they had endured for years now. And somehow, today you had been careless, not caring about the sound of alarms piercing through the stillness of the night. The queen's guards descended upon the village with ruthless efficiency, riding their horses, their gleaming armour announcing their presences further.
And now as you attempt fleeing through the labyrinth of the forest, trying to reach your sanctuary hidden deeply inside the forest, the branches tear at your clothes, the thorns pricking your skin and causing for blood to run down your arms and legs, leaving a crimson reminder of your foolishness before. Fear and desperation mingles in your veins as you push and push forward, occasionally glancing behind your shoulder to reassure that you would manage to lose them again, just like you had done many times. And if you were in a clear state of mind, you would have noticed that you took a wrong turn, ignoring the wanted poster with both your face on it, among other faces, like Snow White, all enemies to the queen who had been on her wanted list for quite some time now.
With a loud thud, you feel yourself losing your balance as you must have bumped into something, feeling a warm sensation before hitting your head on a nearby branch. It takes a little while for your vision to clear, before you find yourself face-to-face with a woman cloaked in darkness, her sharp features illuminated by a flickering lantern. Through a teary vision, due to the pain piercing through your body, you notice dark red hair styled in a sharp quiff, a shade of very dark purple, almost black coating her body. There's a calculating gleam in her eyes, as she finds you pathetically whimpering on the floor, her lips curled into a smirk.
,,Well well'' she remarks, her voice hushed ,,You seem to have gotten yourself into quite a predicament, running from the queens guards I presume?'' she questions and if it wasn't for the pain, you would have noticed the odd sense of familiarity you seem to feel and how you almost would have recognised her. Your heart pounds in your chest, torn between fleeing, the sound of shouting guards and horses still lingering in the air. But there was something about the woman's demeanour that stops you, a sense of intrigue mixed with caution.
Before you can respond, the older woman bends a little to place the lantern on the floor, the bright sensation causing you to close your eyes only momentarily. As you open them again, you watch as she balances on a cane before extending a gloved hand, offering assistance. ,,Come with me'' she offers, her tone surprisingly gentle. ,,I can offer you refuge, but you must trust me''.
Despite the feeling of doom and danger, you see a glimmer of hope in her offer, and so with a silent nod, you accept her outstretched hand, allowing her to lead you deeper into the shadowy depths of the enchanted forest. And it takes several minutes, for the pain to stop throbbing, the blood from your earlier wounds to stop pouring, until you can collect your thoughts. And as you walk behind her, following the sound of her cane and the light source provided by the small lantern she carries, something about the way she walked alarms you. And then it finally dawns on you, finding the familiar trees with carvings on them, where she was leading you, your secret path to the palace that you would often use in order to sneak to the grounds to steal in order to provide for the poor souls of the village.
And then at last it dawns on you who was walking in front of you, who's assistance you agreed upon. You didn't know her name, you had heard it plenty of times but you couldn't recall it, only remembering how she was the assistant to the wicked queen, the people in the village often mentioning her, how she never spoke much but was always by her side. As the forest echos with whispers of secrets, yet to be revealed, panic shoots through your veins, glancing around you to think of a quick escape and as you stop walking, you are quick to turn around, trying pathetically to begin running, however your legs give in as you feel a sharp pain, before everything goes black, having calculated your steps wrong, having put your trust in the wrong hands as the woman never had the intention of helping you, knowing you had been searched and chased for the longest time.
While you battle through unconsciousness, the woman had already alerted the same guards that had chased you before, who carried you inside the palace, the place that you had feared for years. And as the woman returns to the queens chambers in the middle of the night, not disturbing much sleep as her majesty had been awake, pacing back and forth contemplating her next steps and the secret curse she had been planning on casting for years, almost on the verge of completing it, finally having all the necessary ingredients, her peace is interrupted. ,,Busy'' she snarls as she is lost in her pacing, unaware who is standing in front of her.
,,Something demands your attention in the dungeons, your majesty'' the redhead woman announces, causing for the brunette to turn around, as her eyes sparkle with curiosity. And as her curiosity gets ahold of her, she brushes past her most loyal assistant yet, the sound of the queens heels and the other woman's cane echoing through the castle as they pass countless guards. And at last they make it to the dungeons, watching your almost lifeless frame on the floor, in restraints. ,,Well well'' the queen chuckles lowly, glancing at the other woman with a hint of excitement in her brown eyes. ,,Was she caught stealing my apples again?'' she chuckles as she approaches you a little closer.
,,No your majesty, I found her in the woods'' the other woman announces, causing for the queens head to snap in her direction, as she bites her lip in anticipation, almost a hint of lust in her eyes. As you slowly wake up, despite your body screaming in pain, you open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the woman who you had feared for the longest time, accompanied by the woman you had wrongly put your trust into hours before. ,,You lied to me'' you scream, struggling through the restrains as anger flashes in your eyes. The Queen simply chuckles lowly, seeing your pathetic attempts to regain your freedom. ,,My dear, you have no idea who this is do you?'' the queen remarks, causing you to avert your gaze in frustration. ,,This my dear is Wilhemina Venable, my most loyal companion'' she begins, her hand wandering to the redheads cheek, squeezing it a little, her eyes sparkling with pride for how she had managed to capture you after her countless failed attempts in the past.
And despite the circumstances, your eyes betray you as you watch the scene unfold before you, for the first time really getting a glimpse of both women. And you couldn't deny how utterly beautiful they were, at least from the outside, both their hair styled sharply, exposing their faces plastered in dark makeup, the same brown eyes despite the different shades. The queen was wearing one of her usual dresses, black this time, plastered in diamonds and jewels, Wilhemina dressed entirely in a dark shade of purple. While the queen is busy with admiring the other woman, feeling drawn to her for capturing you, you watch as the redheads brown eyes travel towards you, almost a sign of pity in them before she speaks again.
,,What are you planning on doing with her your majesty?'' causing for the queen to chuckle, and you knew what this meant as you had always been running from death, knowing you had deserved it for stealing and running from her for years. Closing your eyes, you wait for what awaits, waiting for her to open the bars, approach and rip out your heart, as you had watched her do it to innocent people many times. However to your surprise she begins pacing a little, thinking about what to do with you. ,,I think we'll keep her'' she announces with a chuckle, and as you open your eyes you notice the confusion in the redheads features.
,,Where she comes from my dear, people bathe in the river and use pinecones for money'' she exclaims, her eyes piercing right through you. ,,I think she can be of great assistance, considering she knows the village and forest so well'' she carries on, Wilhemina simply nodding, trying to avert your eyes. ,,She would make an excellent pet'' is the last thing her majesty says before leaving, leaving behind a very puzzled and confused Wilhemina. She looks at you one more time before following, leaving behind an ever confused you. ,,Pet?'' you think to yourself, trying to pinch yourself to see if this was all just a dream or if maybe you had already died a while ago.
The remainder of the night is spent in the eery dungeons, the restraints keeping you from moving all that much and so the only thing you can do is try and relax as much as the situation allows you, leaning your head against the cold and damp wall behind you, trying to calm the raging storm of thoughts. Eventually sleep finds you, despite it being broken as the castle was considerably loud, even in the night and sometimes you thought you heard screams from the lost souls that had found their ending in the same dungeons you are sitting in. The next morning, you are awoken by one of the guards, as he undoes your restraints, pulling you up by your arms and forcing your shaky legs to follow him as he takes you towards her majesty.
With heavy eyes from the remaining pain lingering on your body and lack of comfortable sleep, you blink a few times as he lets go of you, dropping to your knees in the process. And as you glance around, you notice an unfamiliar room, filled with fancy mirrors, a balcony overlooking the palace grounds, a large dining table and fireplace to the side. And you also notice the same two familiar faces that you had last seen last night, Wilhemina sitting in one of the armchairs by the lit fireplace, her cane resting beside her, the same shade of dark purple but a different outfit. And in front of you, you find her majesty, wearing a red dress, her hair down and despite it all looking beautiful, yet intimidating.
For some reason, you feel the urge to stand up and so with all the strength left you balance and face her as she takes slow and calculated steps around you, walking in a little circle, occasionally glancing at the other woman in the room before speaking. ,,Now now, what are we going to do with you, pet?'' she questions with a little chuckle and it causes you to gulp, wondering just why she hadn't killed you yet, considering all the wanted posters and the hatred you knew she felt towards you for your actions.
The room fills with silence before a low chuckle ripples through it, this time not from the queen but her loyal companion. ,,We can have her for supper can't we dear?''. And again they have you gulping and you could easily try to make an escape, the guards having disappeared now, despite expecting them outside this room. But your curiosity keeps you on your shaky legs, glancing at the older woman who continues circling you like prey. ,,No, no'' she tuts, shaking her head a little ,,We can't waste such a beautiful little thing, now can we?'' her voice sounds almost mocking and you have no idea whether she was being genuine or not.
Silence stretches on, before an idea pops into your mind, knowing what her majesty desired and considering she hadn't killed you yet, maybe you could truly be of assistance to her and her companion, maybe just maybe you could even continue to do what you had been doing, helping out the villagers if you played your cards right. ,,Your majesty?'' you try and her head snaps towards you, eyebrows raised as she never expected one of her prisoners to speak to her like this, adress her in the correct way, other than if she was about to take their life. ,,Yes?'' she questions curiously, her eyebrow remaining raised. You clear your throat before speaking again ,,You are trying to look for Snow White correct?'' you speak carefully, knowing this subject was more than a little touchy to her.
,,Yes, do continue'' she ushers, as her eyes lock with yours. ,,I am not the biggest fan of her either your majesty, perhaps I could be of assistance to help you find her?'' While Wilhemina chuckles, the brunette walks away sighing before she turns to you again, her eyes overtaken by anger. ,,Did she also get the one you loved most in this world killed?'' her voice is filled with venom, though her eyes filled with pain. Wilhemina averts her gaze, knowing Regina for a very long time now and knowing how much that had changed her. ,,No, of course not, I'm sorry your majesty'' you begin speaking again before adding ,,But we have met briefly and I can help you find her'' you try again.
This time the redhead woman stands up, her cane echoing through the room before she halts right in front of you, her dark brown eyes piercing through you. ,,We have our own spies in the village, what makes you think you can find her?'' she spits, almost feeling pitty at your pathetic attempt. ,,Well Ms Venable, you also have tried to find me for years and I know what it's like... to run, you know?''. Her eyebrows raise in the same way the queens had moments before, admiring how polite you are, admiring your manners despite it all and being able to tell that you didn't do any of this to be spared as she is utterly aware you could have tried to make an escape by now or even simply accept your fate.
,,If you don't like that, perhaps I could be of assistance with your gardens your majesty'' you try next, trying to think of anything to make yourself useful to them, while still seeing some of your own gain and advantage. The queen smiles then before turning serious ,,You mean those same gardens you have stolen from many times?'' she scoffs, glancing at Wilhemina who remains in front of you, her presence intimidating. ,,It's just I couldn't help but notice how some of the fruit didn't exactly look too healthy your majesty and your stunning castle, deserves a worthy garden'' you finish your proposal, assuming that she would kill you next or send you back to the dungeons.
,,Guard'' she shouts and as he enters hastily, you close your eyes, awaiting your fate. ,,Get me the gardener now'' she shouts and as he practically runs away, Wilhemina's eyes widen as she turns her head to face the queen, surprised she would listen to you, especially the possibility of agreeing as she knows exactly what is about to happen. A little while later a middle aged man enters the room, almost tripping over his feet, clearly intimidated by the presence. ,,I hear you haven't been taking care of my gardens the way you are meant to'' she tuts, and with a swift motion, before he even gets the chance to explain himself, she has him on the floor, with a flick of her wrist his neck snapped, moments later the guards carrying his lifeless body from the floor a few steps away from you.
All you can do is freeze, feeling terrible that this was the result of your words, not thinking about the consequences your proposal held for the innocent man. And despite feeling like screaming, you stay still, not daring to look up at either of them right now, the realisation slowly sinking in that this wasn't good, that you are trapped by a deranged witch and her odd companion. ,,Fine'' she finally speaks again ,,You can look after the gardens and you may be free to go to the village whenever you please and provide me with information on Snow White'' the queen speaks, before she approaches you. As you look up, you watch as she brushes past Wilhemina before taking your cheeks into her hand and squeezing them ,,But if you think for one second you can escape and not return, you are mistaken'' she warns and as your eyes lock with hers, you can't help and fight the tears beginning to swell in them. ,,Yes your majesty'' you agree with shaky breaths, before she releases you from her tight grasp.
,,Guard'' she shouts again, the same guard entering hastily yet again. ,,Take Y/N to a room, she will be overlooking the gardens and feed us information on snow white'' she explains, before he nods ,,Yes your majesty'' he speaks before he ushers you to follow him. And you do, not once looking back, your feet still shaky from the interaction that had unfolded. The walk feels like it lasts a lifetime, until he finally leads you to a door, opening it and ushering you to go inside. It wasn't nice in the slightest, a lot of dirt, spider webs, barely even a window but there was a little table and chair, a bed even and it connected to what you assume to be a small bathroom. And despite it giving you dungeon vibes all over again, at least you wouldn't be restrained any longer, regaining a small sense of your freedom. He leaves moments later, and you can't help but collapse onto the bed, it really wasn't much of a bed, more of a mattress but nevertheless, you close your eyes as sleep finally washes over your tired body and aching bones.
The next time your eyes force open, it's a few hours later and as you glance around the small room, you find some things that had been left on the small table. As your curiosity gets ahold of you, you find a few sets of clothes, a washcloth and even some papers and pens and despite unsure who had left it there, you appreciate it. Moments later you finally rid your body from the dirt and blood that the last two days had left on you, putting on some of the clothes and leaving your room. It takes you several minutes to find a guard, asking if he could point you in the direction of the gardens and hesitantly he does, leading you to what you assume to be the old gardeners shed as you find all the necessary tools and so without thinking about it, you get to work, watering the bushes, trimming some of them to get them into perfect shape, nurturing some of the fruits and vegetables and correcting any mistakes that the previous gardener had made, for whatever reason taking this task quite seriously.
It's dark as you eventually return inside, quickly having the hang of it by now and finding your room, finding a meal on your table and despite again unsure who had left it, feeling grateful as you hadn't realised until now how much you had been starving. After finishing your meal, you change your clothes again, washing the now dirty ones from working in the gardens all day, before sitting on your bed crossed leg, trying to figure out what to do as beside the day light, you had lost all sense of time a little bit. And so the only thing you can do is reach for the pen and papers, writing down the events from the past few days, sketching a little as well as it always had been your passion, unsure why but it really being the only thing you could do and several hours later passing out on your bed as sleep washes over you.
The next day, you find yourself doing the same things, her gardens were huge and as her majesty overlooks them, finding you working as you kneel on the floor, planting some flowers, she can't help but watch carefully, something about you utterly intriguing. You lose yourself in your task, unaware of who was watching before a presence startles you, causing you to drop your tools clumsily. You watch as Ms Venable circles around you, carefully observing without speaking a single word and it for sure intimidates you, having her observing and careful eyes on you. ,,You seem good at this'' she states, noticing how all the bushes and hedges had the exact same length and a part of her confused as to how you had managed that. ,,Thank you Ms Venable'' you almost whisper, after the last encounter quite terrified of them both and she can tell. ,,Have you managed to gather any information yet?'' she questions curiously and you gulp then before looking up at her as you still kneel on the floor.
,,Not yet, I was wondering whether I may be allowed to leave this afternoon to try and I was wondering whether I would be allowed to collect some seeds?'' you ask, your voice shaky. ,,Seeds?'' she chuckles then, almost mocking your words. ,,Yes Ms to plant some more vegetables and fruit and flowers you see'' you try your best to convince her. ,,I'm sure her majesty doesn't mind, as long as you return in the evening and report back to us'' she almost scolds, her features turning more serious and stern. ,,Of course Ms Venable, thank you'' is all you reply with a small smile, unsure why you had smiled in the first place but it somehow came natural. And before you know it she leaves, her cane echoing with each step before it stops altogether as she reaches the palace again.
Several hours later, you finally make your way to the village, using your secret path through the forest, stopping briefly by your hide out and gathering some of your things, putting them all in a small bag and changing into one of your usual outfits, feeling much more comfortable that way. You opted for one of your beige ones, leather trousers, boots and a vest, a shoulder bag with your belongings. On the way to the village, you had also collected some seeds, hoping if you worked briefly and hard on the gardens, you could still provide the village with food, hoping that you could somehow stuff it in your bags so no one would notice. And as you finally make it to the village, you are met with the usual families, the children greeting you excitedly as they knew you always brought them things but today you unfortunately come empty handed. ,,We haven't seen you for a couple of days'' one of the villagers exclaims, scanning your features and noticing some cuts and bruises on your face. ,,Brief encounter with some guards'' you chuckle, not wanting to go into too much detail. ,,I don't have anything today unfortunately but I should soon'' you exclaim, however you are met with compassion and understanding.
,,Have either of you heard anything about Snow White lately?'' you ask the group of villagers, before most of them shake their head. ,,I believe she has last been seen up north, by the rivers'' one of them exclaims and you simply nod, appreciating their honesty, despite feeling terrible considering what game you are playing. Noticing the beginning dawn, the sun beginning to set, you opt to return to the palace, knowing you would never be able to make the journey up north within the next few hours. And it doesn't take long until you find yourself in front of the familiar back door, some guards already awaiting you. ,,Your majesty wants to see you'' he explains before you gulp and follow him.
He guides you back into the room you had been in before, the two of them sitting by the fireplace, before you stand awkwardly, feeling as if you are interrupting their peace. ,,Tell me, any information?'' the queen questions before she stands up and walks over to you. ,,Yes your majesty, apparently up north by the river'' you explain before she signals to the guard who remained standing there before he leaves at her instructions. ,,I would have checked the information for myself but I know I needed to return tonight'' you explain yourself and she simply furrows her eyebrows before scanning you, noticing the outfit change and the bag. ,,Well well, did our little pet make a stop somewhere?'' she asks, glancing at Wilhemina who simply watches with a chuckle. The brunette is quick to take the bag from you, her eyes glancing through the contents of it, noticing some seed pouches and chuckling as the redhead had filled her in on your earlier request. ,,What is this?'' she questions, holding up your notebook.
,,My notebook your majesty'' you exclaim, averting her gaze as your cheeks grow red a little. She skips through the pages, impressed with the several sketches, some from the villages, some from the forest and even one of her castle. She slides it back into your bag, before walking back over to her armchair, leaving you confused and stranded, unsure what to do next. ,,I feel like some tea, you dear?'' the queen announces and you aren't sure whether to leave them to it or whether they still needed you. ,,Of course'' the redhead begins, reaching for her cane but the queen stops her by waving her hand. ,,No no'' she tuts ,,We have a pet now remember dear'' she instructs and Wilhemina simply chuckles before they both look at you. You glance around the room, unsure where you are supposed to get tea from, however the redhead glances towards a backdoor behind the dining table and you nod gratefully before quickly walking through the door, finding a small tea kitchen there.
And so it doesn't take long before you enter the room again, carrying a little tray, before approaching them, with shaking hands placing it in front of them. ,,Anything else I can get you?'' you ask almost obediently and if you would have looked, you would have noticed the sparkle in Wilhemina's eyes. ,,No pet, but how about you join us considering you did so well today, I heard they have a trail on Snow White'' the queen chuckles and your eyes widen at her offer, but as Wilhemina pats the space next to her, you simply obey, quickly pouring the tea for them, before glancing at the fire, softly crackling, providing you with some warmth, as you feel a little awkward, under their careful gazes. ,,So tell me Y/N, what led you to steal from me in the first place?'' the queen begins, causing you to gulp as the last thing you expected was to find yourself having small talk over tea with them. ,,Yes Y/N'' Wilhemina mockingly carries on ,,We want to hear all about you'' she exclaims, again having you gulping and squirming in your seat.
The next few weeks, carry on the same way they had previously, most of your days are spent with taking care of the gardens, regularly going back to your village, providing them with some of the food that you had grown and nurtured, in secret of course. Your nights mostly looked the same as well, spending them in your room, doing some writing or sketching in your notebooks. However lately, they had often demanded your presence in the evening as well, as you often provided them with tea, the occasional wine, and any information you had on Snow White. And you couldn't help but notice how they seemed a little less strict, they stopped calling you pet and started with your actual name. You are sure by now they know that you have continued providing for your village and they hadn't killed you yet, not even mentioned it. And so, ever so slowly, your life at the palace felt almost normal as you had quite the freedom now, not having to let the guards know where you are going as they and her majesty knew you would always return in the evenings. And so it almost felt like home, appreciating the fact that you don't have to sleep on the wet and cold forest floor anymore but you knew there was something off, you should be terrified, trying to run from them after seeing all the horrible things they had done in the past but something about being around them so much, you started to understand more about the queens pain and the reason for her actions.
,,Where on earth is she?'' she paces around her large chambers, the anger flaring in her eyes as her magic sparks, her emotions bubbling out of the brunette.
Her loyal companion, sits by the fireplace, trying to keep her composure, before balancing on her cane, the sound echoing through the room. ,,I'm sure she just lost track of time'' the redhead tries calming her down, placing a hand on the queens shoulder but she is having none of that, quickly escaping her grasp. ,,She always returns, we were foolish to believe that she wouldn't betray us'' her raised voice rings through the air again, startling the redhead a little.
And Wilhemina wasn't sure whether the queen was actually concerned for your wellbeing, or simply considering whether to kill you, having noticed how Regina had almost gone soft since bringing you to the castle, still plotting her curse that she had worked on for a while but considerably softer with the people in the villages, especially your village. She knew all about you still providing them with food and yet Regina hadn't kill you and so Wilhemina had began wondering whether the brunette may feel the same way about you that Wilhemina had started, despite never talking about it.
The silence is interrupted when a guard enters ,,Your majesty'' he begins but she was having none of it. ,,Not now'' she shouts, waving her hand, getting ready to send him flying out the door. ,,Your majesty, we have finally found her'' he announces, the sound of more guards filling the air before her head snaps towards him. ,,Snow White?'' she questions, despite your best information and efforts lately, they still hadn't managed to capture her. ,,No your majesty'' he begins, before Wilhemina's heart stops in her chest.
They watch as another guard, drags your body inside, your face filled with blood as it pours from your mouth, your clothes stained and bruises beginning to plaster your face. Your eyes are closed as they throw you on the floor, in front of both women, smiling at themselves thinking they had captured you. ,,Are you both out of your minds?'' she shouts and the smiles quickly vanish from the guards faces. ,,Your majesty, Y/N has been searched for years'' he tries to justify his actions. ,,Didn't you two fools get the memo? she hasn't been searched for months, she belongs to this palace'' Wilhemina shouts, usually keeping her composure but unable to in this moment.
,,Pathetic idiots'' the evil queen shouts, in a swift motion making them turn into dust, wiping them from their existence quicker than either of them can take their next breath or justify their pathetic actions. Wilhemina is quick to rid you from the chains, her hand brushing past your cheek, the blood staining her leather gloves. Almost helplessly, Wilhemina turns to Regina, who simply stands frozen, before turning on her heels, abandoning you both as she leaves towards her balcony, trying hard to keep her emotions and rage at bay.
The battle of unconsciousness wins in the end, barely aware of the encounter that took place and so when you wake next, you find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings, a dark room, the only light sources some candles. As you try and force open your eyes, you notice the interior almost entirely a dark shade of lilac and your eyebrows furrow, trying to recollect the events from before. All you remember is trying to make your way back to the castle, stumbling upon some guards who clearly had no idea who you were and how they didn't listen to your pathetic attempts of explaining. How they beat you, hurt you and dragged you back to what you assume to be the castle. The last thing you see before sleep washes over your tired and beaten body is the lilac large sofa you are laying on before everything goes black and quiet.
Meanwhile Wilhemina had returned to the queens chambers, opting between getting you back to your room or a little closer to them and so she decides for one of her rooms in the end, needing the help of a guard to get you there, yet she trusted that same guard, having helped her with some of her secret missions in the past. She watched over you for a while, gently ridding you from the blood and changing your clothes for you, unsure why she was doing it but ignoring the thought for now, wanting to check on Regina. She finds the other woman still standing on her balcony, overlooking the gardens, despite the darkness of the night surrounding them. The cane echoing announces the redheads presence, as she stands beside her majesty, silence surrounding them.
,,How is she?'' the brunette asks, not averting her gaze from the dark night sky for a moment. ,,Fine'' Wilhemina mutters, still unsure how to read Regina's actions so far regarding you. And as the redhead catches a glimpse of the other woman's brown eyes, she can see something unfamiliar in them, something she couldn't read. ,,She's causing me to go soft'' she suddenly speaks, taking Wilhemina by surprise. ,,Is that such a bad thing?'' she questions in return, the queen averting her eyes again at the redheads statement. ,,Where is she?'' Regina asks after a moment of silence before Wilhemina speaks again. ,,She's safe'' and the statement causes for the queens eyebrows to furrow as her eyes draw towards the redheads again. ,,Where is she?'' she speaks again before Wilhemina swallows hard ,,In my room''.
,,Your room?'' her eyebrows raise now, surprised at the statement. ,,You are going soft too my dear'' she chuckles before giving her companion that nod, that nod that indicated she was tired and would retreat to her own chambers for the night. ,,Good night your majesty'' Wilhemina speaks before giving her the space she had silently asked for and retreating to her own room. In her room, she finds you still asleep and a wave of worry washes over her, having seen some of your wounds when changing and washing you before, concerned at the severity of them. ,,Y/N?'' she speaks almost softly, almost lovingly, so unlike the usual stern and intimidating woman. And her soft voice draws you from sleep instantly, as you open your eyes. And then it kinda dawns on you, who's room you are in and you instantly jolt, thinking you didn't belong there, unaware of who had put you there in the first place.
,,I'm so sorry Ms Venable'' you try, your voice still hoarse from sleep. ,,I don't know how I got here'' you apologise, trying to balance on your feet, however a sudden wave of pain washes over your body, causing you to tumble forward but a steady body forces you to remain still, stopping you from falling over. ,,It's okay dear'' she speaks so softly yet again and as you look up, you catch a glimpse of her brown eyes and how they sparkle, how suddenly she seems so much nicer, so much less intimidating and just a person, not the evil queens loyal companion. ,,Come on, let's sit you down'' she tries and you quickly obey, not wanting to cause any discomfort for her, unsure why she used a cane in the first place, but often sensing how uncomfortable she was whenever you caught a glimpse of her.
,,I put you here'' she confesses, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion but when the realisation sets in, your cheeks growing red a little, feeling silly for your earlier panic. ,,Is the pain quite bad?'' she asks, her features filled with concern but you quickly shake your bed. ,,No Ms Venable'' you assure, the pain much better now despite the remaining feeling of unbalance whenever standing up. The room fills with silence as you catch a glimpse of what you assume to be her chambers, the large wooden wardrobe in a corner, a large mirror, a desk with several books on them, two armchairs and a fireplace in the corner. As your eyes meet hers again you can't help but notice how she is staring at you, looking at you up and down as your eyebrows furrow in confusion, mirroring her actions to check if there was something wrong with your appearance.
,,You are quite pretty for a peasant'' she speaks quietly and now you are definitely contemplating whether you are awake, whether this was real. ,,Tha- Thank you Ms Venable'' you stumble over your words, unsure what to reply before she speaks again ,,You may call me Wilhemina'' she offers ,,But only when we are alone'' she instructs and you quickly nod your head, feeling a knot form in your stomach. The room fills with silence again, as you feel yourself relaxing in her presence a little, trying to think how you had gotten here in the first place, how being captured after all these years got you to a first name basis with her majesty's most trusted person. ,,What happened to you tonight?'' Wilhemina asks, drawing your thoughts and eyes back to her.
And then without hesitation and the usual composure you have around them, you fill her in on what had happened with the guards, and she listens intently, her jaw stiffening a couple of times when mentioning some of the more violent details. Before she can reply, the door bursts open, and your eyes widen when seeing the queen enter, in a dark nightgown, her hair down, the makeup gone and for the first time feeling like actually seeing Regina. ,,I can't sleep'' she sighs before noticing your presence and tensing her shoulders, not expecting you to still be there as it had been hours since Wilhemina mentioned having you in her room and assuming by now that you had left to your own room again.
,,And what are you still doing here?'' she questions, more to Wilhemina than yourself really. ,,We were just talking'' Wilhemina informs, her features remaining neutral. ,,I'll leave you to it your majesty'' you speak, quickly on your feet and ignoring the pain and dizziness as you brush past her and return to your own room. That night you have a hard time finding sleep, equally to the queen before, as you toss and turn at first, before eventually giving up on the idea of sleep and retreating to the comfort of your words and sketches as the pen flies over the pages of your notebook.
The next morning you return to your usually tasks, going on about your day, finding an odd sense of peace and quiet in the gardens. Unaware who was again looking over you, observing quietly from her balcony. And the next few weeks continue just like that, you going on about your usual tasks, having your evening encounters with both women who stopped tolerating your presence and started appreciating it, as you bring an odd sense of calm around them, some life into their monotone lives. And within those weeks you feel yourself increasingly drawn to both women, especially after they had taken you to your village a few days ago in the queens carriage, how you assumed Regina was going to bring her usual wrath of violence over people but instead her carriage brought food and supplies for your people and you couldn't believe your eyes, just as stunned as the poor people who feared as soon as they heard the queens guards and carriage arrive.
And you wondered whether maybe, just maybe the queen was going soft, unaware of the events that had taken turn behind closed doors, of how the queen had casted her spell and how it was slowly brewing, unaware of what it would bring, chaos, forgetting and what she had always desired most- her own version of a happy ending. And so tonight, you were unaware that the upcoming day would bring just that, unaware that tonight was your last with them. You had been confused about the queens unusual cheerful mood, how she had invited you to join them for supper, how Wilhemina could barely stand your gaze. How silently Wilhemina had pleaded for the queen to stop her curse but she couldn't stop it as it had been brewing silently for months and how nothing could stop it now, despite her beginning to silently regret it, despite her never admitting that to no one, not even herself really.
You find yourself sitting beside Wilhemina by the fireplace, how her eyes linger on the dancing flames, not having said much all night. ,,Wilhemina, is everything okay?'' you question silently and as her eyes meet yours, you see the pain, the doubts in them and so many unspoken words. However, your peace is interrupted when the queen enters, the door banging shut in the process and your heart stopping in your chest as you notice what she was carrying in her hands. Your notebook slaps against the table as she throws it on it, leaving behind a very confused and startled Wilhemina.
,,What is this?'' the redhead questions, her eyes meeting the angry queens eyes.
,,Ask her'' Regina spits, her angry eyes meeting yours. Wilhemina's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she looks at you. You can't do anything but stand, taking a step towards her majesty, knowing if she had read it, you would be beyond screwed.
,,I can explain your majesty'' you pathetically try but before you get the chance to, she takes a step closer, the echoing of her heels matching her inner turmoil as her eyes shoot daggers towards you, before you gasp as a hand extracts your heart, watching in shock as she holds it in her hands, the sound of it beating steadily filling the room.
,,Regina-'' Wilhemina shouts, quickly on her feet and her eyes travelling from you to the brunette.
,,I have had a feeling this carried your secrets'' she speaks, her eyes wandering towards your notebook. ,,And I wasn't surprised to read all your little confessions, find all your little sketches'' she speak almost mockingly, her eyes filled with both rage and pain.
,,Regina- what is it?'' Wilhemina tries again, her heart beating fast, her hands trembling with fear.
,,She loves us dear, both of us, the pages are filled with it'' she informs her companion, who simply stands there with a shocked expression as the room begins spinning a little.
,,Regina stop'' Wilhemina demands, her eyes pleading with the queen, her cane banging on the floor twice.
Regina's grip on your heart tightens, her gaze cold as she holds it in her hands, causing you to gasp for air. ,,Stop?'' she repeats, her tone dripping with disdain. ,,Why would I stop? when I have finally uncovered the truth about our little pet?''
Fear courses through your veins as you watch the scene unfold before you. Wilhemina's eyes widen in shock, her features mixed with disbelief and anguish. ,,Regina please'' she pleads again, her voice barely above a whisper ,,This isn't necessary''
,,You know that she loves us, you have known for a while now, we both have'' she pleads again as she steps forward, her voice filled with desperation.
Regina's eyes flicker with anger but Wilhemina continues, her words gaining strength. ,,Love should triumph over revenge'' she argues, her gaze never leaving Regina's.
The Queen's expression softens slightly at Wilhemina's words, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. For a moment it seems as though she might relent, before she senses that her curse almost reached you, knowing it was too late, that she couldn't fix this, before her eyes harden once more, her resolve returning.
"Love is a weakness, Wilhemina," she retorts, her voice cold and unforgiving. "It blinds us, makes us vulnerable. We cannot afford such weakness in our world."
Before Wilhemina can respond, having heard those same words fall many times from the queens lips, Regina reaches out and places your heart back in your chest. The pain is intense, causing you to drop to the floor, and as Regina leaves the room, Wilhemina rushes to your side, abandoning her cane, pulling you into her arms as she braces for whatever comes next.
As she glances towards the door where Regina stands, a thick cloud of purple and green already surrounding her, the dark curse finally having reached you, she is quick to press a tender kiss to your lips, causing your eyes to open. ,,I love you Y/N'' she murmurs against your mouth, her voice filled with emotion. ,,No matter what happens, remember that''
Then, as the room fills with smoke and darkness, Wilhemina shields you with her body, trying to protect you from the curse's effects. As the world fades around you, you cling to her, unaware of what is happening, unaware that in a matter of seconds you would forget everything, forget them, forget your life and the woman still trying desperately to hold you close, despite it being useless.
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shewrites444 · 1 year
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ghost [xavier plympton x reader]
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[ inspired from ahs 1984, and of course written by me. super cheesy smut fic since i wrote this over a year ago and it has been sitting in my drafts, but why not post it for my ahs lovers. enjoy! ]
word count - 2.4k
[summary: the reader is a counselor at the former camp redwood, now camp meadow, and meets a very friendly, yet also flirtatious ghost during her first night.]
[warnings: dirty talk, oral, unprotected sex]
regardless of how much my mom and i argued, i continued to deny her stupid reasons to not work at camp meadow the summer. the second massacre of 1984 was not even in the current century, so i knew not to overreact about any possible harm coming my way. i loved a good thrill anyway, so maybe some stupid kids pretending to be the night stalker or mr. jingles would be the most enjoyable portion of the long week anyway.
after finally convincing my friend [y/f/n] to come with me, i was felt my decision was for the best. the drive was a few hours long and once we arrived, we were able to meet our fellow counselors and the head counselor, who seemed nice enough, and not very strict whatsoever.
"i'm going to try my hardest to make this week enjoyable for not only the kids, but the counselors as well." miss thompson smiled at us, nodding her head with respect towards the young group. "i know this place has a lot of bad memories, but with a new name, new cabins, and much more, we can make newer, better memories. if you guys have any concerns or questions, please let me know. i'm available anytime."
[y/f/n] nods, then raises her hand, which miss thompson acknowledges immediately. "what about showers? we haven't gone over that yet."
miss thompson told us we had to shower before midnight, to make sure we had hot water the next morning for the kids, in case they needed a bath or anything of the sort.
after taking turns one by one, i was last in line for my shower. i decided to wait until it was dark, so i didn't have any concerns about my friends coming to prank me with stupid, useless scares. they were all tired, cuddled up in their bunks and ready to prepare for the next morning, which would be extremely busy with the amount of kids the head counselor said we were expecting.
i grab my towel and a change of clothes, along with my razor, and made my way towards the showers. i set everything down before stripping off my baggy, light washed jeans and plain black crop top, then turn the water on, waiting until it's hot enough to step into.
i close my eyes, humming quietly to myself as i wet my hair, reaching over to grab the shampoo bottle. i squirt it into my hand, then sigh upon realizing it's all out.
"just fucking fantastic." i scoff, setting the bottle down and just deciding to shave instead. i grab the bar of soap and lather my right leg up, grabbing the razor and sliding it against my skin.
while doing so, i feel a cold gust of wind against my heated, wet skin, looking up with confusion as it suddenly stops. i shake my head, ignoring the situation and going back to my legs. after shaving, i set the razor down and glance to the shower next to me, seeing there was no shampoo in there, either. i really preferred to wash my hair tonight, knowing that it would be funky the next day, since we were expected to take the kids in canoes and swimming.
"looking for this?" i hear a low masculine voice, making me jump and squeak in surprise, turning around to see a blonde boy, dressed in a pair of white khakis and a teal sweatshirt, with a pair of white high-top converse. he had one silver cross earring, which hung on his right ear and shook as he stepped closer, holding a small shampoo bottle in his hand.
i blink numerous times, trying to fathom the fact that the boy was really there. he looked like he belonged in a different universe, or era, to say the least. i step closer and grab it from him, squeezing it in my hands to assure what was happening was actually real. i realize that if this is real, i'm bare ass naked in front of this random guy.
i snatch the towel from the sink, holding it over my body as my cheeks begin to heaten, and not just from the hot water. "who the fuck are you? and why the fuck are you in here while i'm showering?!"
he ran his fingers through his blonde highlights, laughing to himself, as if the situation was amusing. "well, i actually live here. i heard you and your buddies talking about the massacres that took place here earlier today. kinda disappointed you don't recognize me."
i wrap the towel around myself, stepping closer to him, and crossing my arms in complete confusion. "i'm sorry, but i don't think anyone just casually lives at camp meadow. this is like, a summer camp. i don't think it's legal to live here unless you own the camp, and the person who owns this place is a woman. so, i ask again, who are you, and why in the hell should i recognize you?"
"i'm xavier!" he yells in frustration, seeming offended i didn't know this infamous name. "xavier plympton. i was one of the few who were killed here in the '84 massacre. you haven't read up on the conspiracy there's ghosts here? you're looking at one from the 80's." he winks, watching as my eyes widen in shock.
"there's no way." i shake my head, looking at him from head to toe, completely flabbergasted by his unrealistic explanation. "ghosts can't just live here on earth forever, right? i thought you guys would at least go to heaven or hell, or something. not that i believe in that shit, but you'd at least go somewhere other than here."
xavier shrugged, taking a step closer to me, reaching his hand to my bare, wet shoulder. he smiled, sighing as he felt my skin. "i wish i felt like this again. being a ghost sucks sometimes. i feel so empty, so inhuman. i haven't felt someone so warm, so human, in years."
i pull back, pushing his hand off of me. "okay, um, xavier plympton. sorry to disappoint, but you probably won't be feeling this human ever again. now if you'll excuse me, i really need to wash my hair. thank you for the shampoo, but i seriously need you to leave."
he sighed, crossing his arms and lightly tapping his foot in annoyance at my resistance. "come on, [y/n]. i'm the whole reason you can even wash your hair. one more touch please, maybe on your face or something? it makes me feel normal again!" he whines, making a pouty face towards me.
"how do you know my name, weirdo?" i ask, looking at him with annoyance and a bit of confusion. "and no, you can't touch my face. if anything, that's the farthest from feeling normal. that's just being a creep."
xavier walked closer to me, "i do my research. i have nothing else to do around here, so why not eavesdrop on the new counselors before they're here forever like the rest of us, hm?"
my eyes widen as i walk back, hitting the shower water with my back, and feeling the towel begin to get soaked. i gulp, trying to scan him for any potential weapon. "well, if you kill me, then you won't be able to like.. touch my shoulder or whatever.. i thought you wanted to feel what it was like to be human, remember?"
he laughed, reaching to tug the side of the towel, biting his lip and looking up to meet our eyes. "i wouldn't hurt you or let anyone else do so, [y/n]. you're not like everyone else around here. you seem different, like you aren't afraid of a fucking stick breaking when you walk at night like those other pussy counselors. i mean, you came out here at almost midnight and showered all alone, so it's like you were practically begging me to touch more then just your shoulder.."
i blush, crossing my arms to make his fingers break from the fabric, breathing in and out rather heavily, as i felt my stomach turn at his words. "what would ever make you think i'd want you to touch me? maybe that's your brain, just because you've only had ghost pussy for like twenty years."
"maybe, instead, it's because you excite me." xavier snaps back with a flick of his pink tongue. he grabs the towel, slowly pulling it back off of me, then tossing it to the wooden floor. he grabs the shampoo, squirting some into his palm before lathering it up, gesturing for me to turn around. he sinks his fingers into my hair, beginning to wash it with soft, relaxing strokes from his fingertips. i close my eyes, practically melting at his touch and feeling my legs quickly drench with pleasure as he begins to kiss down my wet neck and soon to my bare shoulders.
this goes on for a few minutes, when he then helps to wash the shampoo out of my hair, and turns me back towards him. i watch him strip of his clothing, except for his light blue boxers, which showed off his stiff, hard length, poking directly towards my wet pussy.
i chew my lip, looking down at his length, before locking our lust-filled eyes. he moves closer to press his lips against my cheek, then smiles seductively.
"if i'm going to fuck you, i'd like to do so in a place more, comfortable. for the both of us, of course." he explains, taking my hand and pulling me away from the water. i look to him, raising a brow, and watching as he hands me the towel.
i follow him outside, as he walks towards an empty cabin, several down from the one i was staying in. i let him sit me down on the bed, where i pull the towel off of myself and set it on the dresser. i lay on my back, spreading my legs in his direction as he pulls his boxers down. he looks at me with a grin, chuckling as he walks over to shut my legs, making my sit up with complete confusion.
"thought we were going to have sex, xavier. not play games, right?" i chirp, looking at the blonde as he sticks two fingers in his mouth, then pins me back down, sliding them to my clit, answering my own question. so no sex yet, only some foreplay so far, which was absolutely fine by me.
he came off as a man who wanted to skip the foreplay, but the second he pumped his fingers inside of me, i was thankfully my interpretation was wrong. i gasp, letting out a loud moan as he began to finger me, curling his digits inside of me with each thrust, in and out.
xavier leaned down to latch his lips to my nipple, sucking softly for a minute before pulling his head up. he looks down at me, pleased with my moans, while he reads my lustful expression.
"the minute i saw you walk into this camp, i knew you'd been needing a good dicking, [y/n]. the way you looked at those other counselors when they were introduced to you.. you've been wanting someone inside of you for awhile now, and who better then me, hm?" he talked into my ear, his hot breath against my skin as he worked his magic inside of me. "i could fuck you so hard tonight you'd never wanna leave camp, baby. you'd be begging for my cock from when you wake up to when you go to sleep. i can already feel how good your pussy is, so i may be begging you for the same later.."
i glance up at him, then down to his hand, as he rapidly finger fucks my insides. i'm dripping at his touch, my juices sinking between my ass cheeks and his fingers, visibly noticeable as he pulls out of me, moving his index and middle fingers to my throbbing clit.
as he rubs, i moan loudly, my eyes shut while he motions himself in front of me. he kneels on the bed, using his free hand to line up his length with my pussy. he pushes himself in slowly, as a way to warn me of what's to come. he was big, and it was now very obvious as he had already filled a substantial portion of my insides with not even half his cock. i nod with reassurance, allowing him to push himself into me, so deep his balls were pressing against my folds.
xavier begins to thrust, pulling his hand away from my clit and taking a hold of my own hand, lacing his fingers with mine. he smushes our lips together, the kiss entrancing the both of us as we become one through a sinful, yet so beautifully pleasurable act.
"you feel so good, [y/n]... dead or alive, this is the best pussy i've ever had in my life.. i never want to stop fucking you, baby.." xavier compliments me, giving me a wink as he raises himself back up. he keeps our hands together, thrusting himself inside as he lets out small moans, and continues to speak his sexual, dirty words to me.
he looks down at me, watching as my tits bounce with each one of his rapid, fast-paced movements. "how do you like this cock, sweetheart? so thick and long for you, hmm? you make me hurt with lust, babygirl. you make me want to cum deep inside you."
"please, xavier. please cum inside me.." i moan, nodding as i look up at him, my mouth hung open as he rocks my body in the bed. "that's all i want right now, for you to fill me up so good.. i need you so bad.. i need you to fill my pussy.. fuck.."
"and that i fucking shall." xavier pushes inside of me with one last deep thrust, filling my walls with his warm, thick seed. he pulls out, a small portion of white trailing from his head and to my pussy lips.
i sit up, panting as i pull myself off the bed, leaning down onto my weak, shaking knees. i place my lips on the tip, sucking the excess down my throat. he shivers at my touch, moving one hand to cup my cheek and insist i stand back up.
"maybe tomorrow night you can reward me with head, baby. you've got a big day soon." he pecks my lips, handing me the towel off the floor. "so why don't you go clean up, again, and i'll see you soon."
i smirk, nodding as i wrap the towel around my top. "xavier, please join me. maybe i'll wash your hair this time." i wink, watching him pull his boxers up.
he laughed, shaking his head. "i hate to reject the offer, sweetheart, but i need my beauty sleep, too. go get some sleep, because tomorrow night will be far longer than tonight's."
i turn around, my cheeks burning as i open the cabin door and shut it behind me, walking back to the showers. i couldn't believe i had just let a ghost fuck me, and that ghost being the xavier plympton. maybe i'd have to stick around camp meadow for longer than this week after all.
[ a/n - i did want to mention i will be writing much more in a few weeks - finals and college/work in general has been consuming a lot of my time lately, but i am hoping to find some inspiration for new fics soon! ]
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am3ricanh0rrorwh0re · 19 days
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Model ☆
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jeff pfister x fem!reader
summary: you were hired as a model for future sex bots built by Kineros Robotics, and you fall for a technician
warnings: nsfw, cocaine, unprotected p in v over a desk, oral (male and fem receiving), orgasm denial, unchecked spelling
“Hello?” You call, knocking on a door to the lab of Jeff Pfister and Mutt Nutter; two billionaires and owners of Kineros Robotics, a company that made sex robots. There they were, two men with bowl cuts, one blonde and one brunette. The men were snorting coke out of a crystal bowl and sliding around on spinny chairs
"Woah. what’s a hot chick like you doing here? wanted to meet the sexy billionaires in charge of the company?" the blonde one says, looking you up and down. His vision fluctuated from your tits to your pussy.
“I applied yesterday, that model position. inspiration for a new robot or something,” You laugh. The men nod and snicker.
“Yeah, uh,” The blonde one says after a line of cocaine. “I’m Jeff, and that’s Mutt,” He continues, pointing at himself, and then back at the brunette. You nod, smiling at Jeff. He reciprocates the smile, his gaze following you as you walk around the lab.
“So basically,” Jeff smiled, standing up. “We kinda just need you to strip down to whatever you got underneath that, and just follow our instruction,” Jeff smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes. You agree, taking off your clothes until you’re down to your bra and panties.
Jeff smiled, grabbing some measuring tape. He sighed softly, wrapping it around your hips before giving the measurements to Mutt to write down. You look down at him, smirking. Jeff wraps the measuring tape around one of your thighs, inching his way up to your throbbing heat under your panties. He’s on his knees, looking up at you with a smirk as he tightens the measuring tape around your thigh. One of his hands snakes its way up your thigh, pushing your panties aside. You smile down at him, inhaling shakily.
Jeff nipped at your thigh softly, leading up to your wet entrance. He kept one hand pushing your panties aside, the other held your thigh. He looked back behind him, making sure Mutt wasn’t there, which he wasn’t. Jeff laughed softly, his tongue circling your clit. You bring your hands down to his hair, running your fingers through his blonde mop of hair.
“You like that?” Jeff asked with a smile, his lips pressed against your cunt. The vibrations of his voice shook against you, making you whine. You nod as he keeps going.
“god, I need more,” You moan. Your grip on his hair tightens as he plunged his tongue between your folds. Jeff stands up and grabs your hips, bringing you over to his desk. He pushed you over his desk, his hands running up your sides before he pulled your panties to your ankles.
“you do coke, right?” He asked, grabbing a handful of coke in his hand from the crystal bowl. He wraps his hand around, putting it up to your face.
“try it, babe,” Jeff laughed. You blocked off a nostril and snorted the powder, feeling it scrape your nose as it traveled up your nasal tubes. He wiped the rest off of his hands before grabbing your wrists.
Jeff pinned your wrists to your sides, pressing them down into the desk. He pushed down his pants and boxers before digging his hands back into your wrists. His cock pressed against your wet entrance. He started thrusting, making you moan loudly.
“I knew you were a good hire,” He laughed.
A thrust, followed by a grown.
“I knew it when I saw those tits,”
Another thrust.
You moan loudly, panting. Your breath comes out in short, sharp hitches. “I think i’m gonna cum-“ You squeak. Jeff lets go of your wrists, smacking your ass roughly. that’d leave a mark, you knew it for sure.
“Not yet, don’t cum yet, babe,” He laughed, thrusting in harder. You moan loudly, gasping for air. His fingers weaved their way through your hair before pulling sharply. He slapped your ass again, leaving a real mark.
“Cum,” He dictated. “I said cum,” Jeff demanded, slapping your ass. Your eyes rolled back as you grabbed the desk. Jeff gave one more thrust, followed by a loud groan. He pushed further into you, nuzzling up into you before releasing deep inside.
“Jeff!” You scream, feeling him cum inside of you. He puts a hand over your mouth before pulling out. He scoffed, looking down at your pussy, which was throbbing, leaking out a combination of both of you.
“Shh, it’s fine…worst case scenario? You get pregnant with my baby and it looks fucking perfect,”
(this fic was made for @newwavesylviaplath. love ya camrynnn !!)
taglist: @newwavesylviaplath @cult-of-lambs @fear-is-truth @dangeroustaintedflawed @slutforgarlogan
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I just love all the recognition and love he gets these days. He absolutely deserves it. He's such a great actor🤍
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babygorewhore · 3 months
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Pure imagination.
Michael Langdon smut blurb.
No plot. 18plus! Fingering! Pussy slapping! Dub con use of powers! Hint of oral at the end! Short!
“Come. Approach me.” Michael demanded you with a soft voice and you immediately sat down in the chair. His long blond hair was tossed over his shoulder as his black button down shirt was flat against his muscular body.
“I assume you’re not going to join my side with my father. Choosing to stick with your coven…”He spoke the last word like poison and he leaned against his desk.
“I will never join someone like you.” You hissed at him but he waved a hand dismissively and crooked his finger.
“Stand.” He said and you obeyed. Approaching him, he gave you a gentle smile. His hands found your shoulders as he discarded your shirt. “Perhaps my mouth can persuade you.” He then pressed his large hand against your naked flesh and you shivered. His handsome features were consuming as he leaned forward and pressed his soft lips on your neck.
You gasped as his tongue darted out and tasted your sweet spot. Your core clenched as he growled in your ear. “You’re going to do exactly as I say, witch. Or else you won’t like the consequence.” He snarled as his eyes went back and he sank his teeth into your shoulder.
You moaned with pain and pleasure. Michael pulled you over to the desk and put you on top of the wood. His black trousered knee separating your legs as he lifted up your dark skirt. “Shall I bow before you, witch? Instead of the other way around?”
Michael dove down and ripped off your panties, his tongue lapped at your clit with fury and you clung so hard onto the surface your hands trembled as your eyes rolled back. He slurped and sucked the sensitive nerve as he inserted his tongue inside before returning back to the center. You clenched around nothing and he saw.
“Take my fingers,” He shoved two inside, showing no mercy as he pumped them upward and your arousal coated his knuckles. Your own fingers could never as you grinded down.
“Will you join me?” His words were muffled as he licked you like melting ice cream and you moaned. You wanted to protest and say no but his mouth was working you over better than you’ve received in a while.
Michael pulled back and slapped your pussy. You shrieked as he then shoved his fingers inside your lips, making you taste the sweet flavor of what he made you feel. “Will. You. Join. Me?” His voice was so low it was a rumble.
“No-“ You gasped as he slapped your pussy again.
“Will you join me?” Michael said in your ear then he tugged your lobe between his teeth.
You gaged around his knuckles that were coated with spit as your eyes widened. He flicked his other hand and had you then splayed on your back, mouth empty.
“You’re going to cum now.” He told you and you were hit with an orgasm that caused you to squirt. Your cum sprayed and dripped down your legs as you almost screamed and your eyes squeezed shut. He smirked at you.
“My little bunny. So determined to resist me. But you can’t. You should see how fucked out you look. You’re already my slave and you don’t even know it. Cum again.”
The overwhelming white hot explosion in your stomach came again and you started crying about cunt quivered as your entrance leaked cum. “Michael-please-“ you begged as another orgasm caused more tears. “Please-“
“Will you join me? Or will your own imagination about your freedom keep you from being a good girl?” Michael cooed at you and he leaned over your shaking form.
“Yes.” You sobbed and he shushed you. Stroking your cheek as he collected a tear on his thumb.
“That’s it. Surrender. And show me exactly how you want to worship me.”
@xxhellfirebunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @icannot3 @fear-is-truth @taintandviolent @melodymunson I didn’t tag everyone because it’s so short.
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kaiscumsock · 1 year
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evan peters out in the wild
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amomentsescape · 8 months
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Masterlist
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Murder House
Asylum
Coven
Freakshow
Hotel
Roanoke
Cult
Apocalypse
1984
Double Feature
NYC
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Tony Stark
Steve Rogers
Bucky Barnes
Peter Parker
Loki Laufeyson
Wanda Maximoff
Natasha Romanoff
TASM! Peter Parker
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Jerome Valeska
Jeremiah Valeska
Bruce Wayne
Edward Nygma
Oswald Cobblepot
Victor Zsasz
Harvey Bullock 
Sid
Jervis Tetch
Jonathan Crane
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Dean Winchester
Sam Winchester
Jack Kline
Castiel
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Freddy Krueger
Michael Myers
Jason Voorhees
Thomas Hewitt
Bubba Sawyer
Brahms Heelshire
Norman Bates
Billy Loomis
Stu Macher
Vincent Sinclair
Bo Sinclair
Lester Sinclair
Hannibal Lecter
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Eric Draven
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