#ahs coven fanfiction

[not-alien-girl-v]

hi!! i was wondering if you could write angst with boy kyle? maybe something happens at a party and he gets angry?. (sorry it’s my first request)!! 🫶🏻💗

warning: language, party stuff

note: kyle and reader are high key toxic in this one but you asked for angst so im giving angst. side note i love george daniel my next fic will be something for him so watch out 1975 fans. every frat kyle fic i write, they go to a party. working on a writing list rn so i can actually write stuff

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"are you really not gonna talk to me?" kyle whines, hands gripping tighter to the steering wheel and veins protruding from the pale thin skin at the back of his palms.

her lips fold in on each other to symbolize her meaningful silence. with this silence, she intended to get a message across, ironically, that message being that tonight, kyle was being an asshole.

"jesus christ, babe, i said i was sorry. what do you want me to do? get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?" he takes equally timed glances at her fuming figure in the passenger's seat, stealing quick views in intervals, hoping she doesn't notice the desperation for forgiveness truly hiding in his brown eyes tonight.

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"god, you're being a fucking child," and maybe it's the way her arms cross over her chest or the ridiculous pout on her face that would cause him to make such a comment, but it's not one that comes without offense.

"oh really? i'm the child? you're sitting here cursing me out for you being upset over something you did wrong. forgive me if i'm wrong but it looks like i'm the only adult in this situation." kyle would have been thankful for her finally breaking and speaking something to him had it not been another comment that further angered him. fine, he thought. she wants to see childish? he'd show her.

when the car comes rolling to a stop, her seat belt flies off in an instant, and she's escaping the confines of the car, not forgetting to give his car door a slam on her way out for good measure. she doesn't look back to see the expression on his face.

quickly, she finds her friends, a small group of young women who she met through her college, being classmates, dormmates, and girlfriends of kyle's fraternity brothers. one, namely, being violet.

"hey y/n! what's kyle up to tonight?" violet asks her, noticing the lack of a blond boy clinging to her side like he does without fail at every party.

"pissing me off," she chooses to take a sip of her generic liquid in a cup instead of elaborating further on the matter.

"oh? what's up?" the plastic of the red solo cup in y/n's hand cracks under the pressure of her gently squeezing hand.

"he's just being an asshole, the usual." though she explains his behavior as 'the usual', it's far from the truth. in fact, kyle usually does everything in his limited power to please her, whatever it takes to make her happy, so for them to be in a squabble such as this was a rarity.

"ok fine, don't tell me. you'll do a shot with me, though, right?" violet asks, pleading with her eyes for her friend to agree.

"sure, whatever. might as well get shitfaced so i don't have to think about all this tonight."

the two make their way to the island counter of the kitchen, y/n leaning her elbows on the cold marble while violet flirts her way into convincing some random guy to pour out their shots. he agrees, and he is joined by a friend, a tall, brown haired boy, and they both approach the two girls by the counter with shot glasses and tequila in hand.

the first guy keeps his focus on violet, messily pouring out the promised shots, while the other's attention gravitates to y/n.

"tequila's your choice?" he queries, gesturing with his arm to the shot now sitting gracefully in front of her.

"it gets the job done." with that, her head tips back, letting the foul tasting liquid burn down her throat, her eyes scrunching in response.

"you looking to forget about some shit tonight?" he flirtingly scooches right next to her, leaning on the counter, mirroring her to face her directly.

she giggles, "something like that."

when her laughter comes to a lull, he reaches his hand out in a handshake. "xander."

she accepts it, gripping his warm hand in her own, "y/n."

suddenly, like a boa constricting its prey, an arm finds its way around her shoulder as a figure creeps up behind her, pressing into her side like it owns her. she doesn't have to turn her head to know its kyle.

"what are we talking about here, guys?" kyle fakes innocence and also ignores the aggressive eye rolling from his annoyed girlfriend.

"now's not a good time," y/n starts to explain, but kyle simply grips her tighter, nearly hard enough to leave a bruise but not quite, and the level of discomfort is evident enough on her face that xander speaks up.

"hey, is he bothering you?"

"she's fine-"

"i wasn't asking you, now was i? is he? you can tell me."

her eyes widened as the idea flashed before them. "yes, in fact, he is bothering me. he's been bothering me all night."

"look man, i think it's time you go," xander starts out heavy, giving kyle a firm shove, effectively removing him from his fused position to the girl's side.

normally, kyle would have the ability to keep his cool in a situation like this, but he had been beefing with his girlfriend all night, and he also, purely coincidentally, had taken several shots since his entrance to the event. so now not only was he angry, but he was drunk.

"hey, keep your hands off me, bro!" kyle shoves back, and with a few more childish shoves similar to that, punches are being thrown, and they both fell to the ground in their brawl.

some other men jump in soon enough, ripping the two apart, and xander is pulled to another room, while kyle is pushed outside, likely for good for the night.

now even more enraged than the moment she exited the car, y/n stomps after him.

when he sees her standing before him outside, she notices the gentle smile playing on his bruised face and she almost feels guilty for being about to yell at him, but soon remembers what he did.

"what the fuck is your problem?" she yells.

"you're my problem," he grumbles, picking himself off the ground an dusting off his jeans with the palms of his sweaty hands.

she ignores his almost cute quip. "you think you can just act like you fucking own me? like i'm your property? because i'm not, i shouldn't have to tell you how fucked that is, kyle!"

"so do you do this a lot? you flirt with random guys at parties. parties that i'm at? do you tell them you have a boyfriend before you blow them or what?"

"i'm not a slut, if that's what your implying. i've never done what you accused me of, not even tonight. we were having an innocent conversation when you came in like my fucking owner. but if that's what you think i do all the time, if you genuinely believe that, then maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

she begins to walk away at his hallowing silence but he grabs her wrist before her escape. "wait!"

"what?" she's not snappy anymore, she's just exhausted. with him, with tonight, with this whole situation.

"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry baby," he pleads with her and she can tell he means it despite his drunk filter to the words. she can't help but hear him out.

"please don't leave me, don't end this, i'll do anything, i promise. i just love you. okay? i don't mean to be so nasty, i'm just afraid of you leaving me, of someone taking you, of you finding someone else, someone better." he's been tenderly holding her hand through his entire confession and to his surprise, she's been letting him.

she sighs, feeling a bit of stress melt from her mind as she exhales into the chilled night air. "i know, baby. you're a good boyfriend, a great one, actually. i just can't stand when you act like i'm yours. i don't do that to you around your friends. i don't do it around anyone, and i expect the same from you. i don't want to leave either, but can you promise you won't do this anymore?"

"of course. i promise, i swear. on my life, i swear. i will do anything to make this better, to fix this. tell me what i can do for you right now, sweetie."

her thumb rubs soothingly over his hand and she focuses on their hands joined together rather than meeting his eyes for a moment, then looks up, "you can start by coming home with me. stay the night, we can work this all out."

"anything you want," he soon realizes she's led him to his car, and she reaches around in his pockets for his keys, pushing him into the open car.

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kyle's head rests sleepily on her warm chest, and he's long since stripped of his shirt and jeans, allowing her to wear his discarded shirt to sleep. his hands and wrists are folded comfortable, tucked into the crevice of his neck and he's just listening to the beautiful sounds of her soft exhales. her breaths aren't quite even, and he knows she's still awake.

"you promise you won't leave? you'll still be here when i wake up?"

"i promise, sweetie."

#kyle spencer fluff #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer fanfiction #frat boy kyle #kyle spencer #angst #american horror story fanfiction #american horror story #ahs coven #ahs coven fanfiction #kyle spencer angst #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters x you #evan peters x reader #evan peters

[practically-an-x-man]

I know you're not on tiktok anymore, but there's this one thing/slight trend where people who have pets (and consider themselves basically parents y'know not that seriously but you get it), anyway as a way to get back at the people that are like "You just have pets you can't call them your kids!" Or something, they'll edit an ultrasound picture from like the internet and put their pet in it and be like "What do you mean here's [insert pet's name] ultrasound photo" as a joke, and anyway... I could see Jasper doing that to mess with people because of all the animals they and Kyle eventually have?

Oh absolutely, that would be hilarious!

Jasper would post the initial video I think, but it would be Kyle that keeps the joke going for sure. Like, he'd make a whole running gag about it. Someone comments "Did you make a baby book for Columbia? We were going to do baby books for all our kids but we always forgot to finish them" and the next video is Kyle showing a "baby book" with a pawprint on the handprint page, Columbia's "first word" as "meow", things like that (he didn't buy a whole baby book for the joke, just printed out a few pages and stuck them into a normal book so it looked like he was flipping through a baby book)

Someone else comments "how do you convince your kids to finish their dinner? We can never get ours to eat his veggies" so Kyle posts a video of him dropping baby carrots on the floor and Ruff and Frankie just snapping them up, and behind the camera he's saying something like "Oh, it's pretty easy if you turn it into a game for them. We call this one 'oops! look what I dropped!', they love eating their veggies when they think they're being sneaky about it"

And it just keeps going like this, until Kyle and Jasper's TikTok page is basically just devoted to maintaining this silly joke. He even makes a decent following from it too, since people like his sense of humor

(this made me smile to think about thank you)

#my friends!!! #answered asks #my ocs #jasper wilson #ahs coven #ahs coven fanfiction #kyle spencer #heartstrings fic

[taintandviolent]

In the end of the night, I can feel your warmth. (Kyle Spencer x Reader)

summary: zombies eat brains... not pussies. WRONG. they actually eat them really well. 2.9K words!

warnings: 18+ below the cut!! smut (female receiveing), heavy heavy cunnilingus, s*xual guiding/coaching, praise (male receiving), carnal instincts, unga bunga brain Frankenkyle because it’s a serious problem I have, uhhhhhhh.

tags: @darlingjimmy @petersevans @kaiju-superstar @redwoodghost @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @iluwmycats @kai-slut @kaissweetlamb @twinkiemaximoff @evanpetersfansblog @spill-the-t @eventually27 @stucktothetwo @kai-andersons-blog @kai-anderson-whore @evansb1tch @viharmonscorner @yesdevineruler @anonymous0316 @enchanting-evan @fuckedbykai @nova-kayne67

ao3 link here! Full link below the cut!! Thank you to @redwoodghost​ and @kaiju-superstar​ for yet AGAIN beta-reading and sending me to the clouds.

“Mmmph….”

Three days earlier.

After a series of life altering events, you’d finally thrown your hands up and run away from home. The destination? Miss Robichaux’s School for Gifted Young Women, located in the mysterious city of New Orleans. As you rode the bus, one backpack stuffed with clothes and jewellery clutched tightly to your chest like a child, vibrant images of vampires, witches and voodoo danced in your dreams.

You saw yourself as a plain Jane who had been a little too influenced by the occult at a young age. A typical girl who had grown up on Stevie Nicks and tarot cards, you had never considered yourself particularly remarkable, though you’d always had a knack for making things happen a little too easily. Teachers and parents had always described you as an influential young woman — a deceptive umbrella term that hardly scratched the surface. You weren’t writing persuasive essays or excelling in Speech and Debate, you were sticking your fingers into someone’s mind like playdoh and rewiring it to do exactly what you wanted.

It was that deceptive umbrella term that brought you to Louisiana to begin with; you’d felt unheard, unseen, and misunderstood. You were struggling and nobody had the capacity to unravel your problems.

Cordelia, who was easily one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, welcomed you into her office. The interview was brief but compassionate. She’d asked you to explain what brought you to her home, what you felt your “powers” were, and reached to touch the top of your hand when you struggled with that word. She lingered, staring deeply at your fingers. After a moment, she inhaled and spoke again.

“Nothing is silly here. You’re safe. Everything you’ve thought was make-believe or… or childish isn’t. The world runs on magic.”

Cordelia had called one of the other girls into her office and given you an encouraging nod. The girl, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, had jet black hair, and large glasses. She looked deeply frightened and you almost felt bad when you made her crawl on the floor like a crab before standing up and clapping excitedly. It took very little effort for you, Cordelia noted and wrote something on a piece of paper in your file.

Whatever you’d done, you’d done it correctly. Shortly after that, a girl named Zoe showed you to your new room. She was sweet, kind — the sort of woman that you thought would listen to every side of every story before making any judgements. She used to be a student witch here, she explained as you two walked, but she'd risen in the ranks and become so busy with being the Council — something very important, a hierarchy of witches — that she didn’t have time for the things she used to focus on.  

Zoe opened the tall door, letting you step in first. Well-lit by the large and ornately trimmed windows, the room was white, matching the scheme of the rest of the mansion. Sparsely decorated, there were the necessities in terms of furniture and nothing else. There were two beds at opposite sides of the room… and a blonde boy sat cross-legged on the one closest to the door. His expression was blank, but his brows were laced together, conveying some sort of unknown sadness.

“This is Kyle. He…” she trailed off, her voice sounding unsteady. “He died. Madison and I, we… we put him back together and brought him back.”

You snapped your head to face her, jaw hanging slack in disbelief. “Put him back together? Like Frankenstein?”

Zoe nodded, and reached out to stroke his fluffy blonde curls. While he remained stoic, you noticed the tiniest flinch in his cheek muscles. The way she looked at him… you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. There was history here. “He’s not the same. He tries though.”

She straightened out her frown, visibly trying to move on from the memories.

“This used to be my room. But…” She dropped her hand to her side. He flinched more visibly. “It’s yours now.”

Zoe had told you that all Kyle needed was macaroni, kid’s shows on YouTube, and he wouldn’t bother you. For the first night, you conceded with those recommendations because his outbursts overwhelmed you.

On the second night, you woke up to the sound of rustling. Kyle sat upright in his bed, sheets draped over his lap, staring towards the window. You sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to your chest. He turned to look at you and shrunk away from your gaze, ashamed. He quickly returned to a lying position, like a child who had gotten yelled at. The apprehension you possessed on the first night had morphed into wonderment. A reanimated boy, who despite being pieced together still had some semblance of sentience and emotion. It may have been cliche to analyze it through a Shelley-esque eye… but with sentience, came love. And with love, agony was sure to follow. You’d always been particularly enraptured with the idea of a monster needing love, trying desperately to understand it.

A line from Frankenstein came to mind as you watched him staring straight up at the ceiling, hoping you wouldn’t notice he wasn’t asleep. “I have a love in me the likes of which can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

So… what if you satisfied the first? Perhaps all he needed was some tenderness, some attentiveness.  

“Kyle?”

No response. You swung your legs out from underneath the covers, planting your bare feet on the wooden floors. In only your nightgown, the chill of the air bit at your exposed limbs, prompting you to slip your arms into the lacy, green sleeves of your robe.

“Kyle? You wanna look at the moon?”

This time, he turned his head on the pillow to look at you. You began moving carefully towards him.

“You want to? The moon?” You asked again, making a circle shape with your hands and then unrolling them to point towards the window. He nodded, showing understanding. Clumsily, he threw the covers off him and got to his feet.

You took one step. He followed, ambling heavily behind you until you both stood close enough to the window to feel the chill that permeated the glass. He sighed heavily, the sound resonating in his broad chest. It was the first time you’d heard any sort of happy sound from him. His knuckles brushed against yours, but despite the quivering in your abdomen, you didn’t reach out to hold his hand. You wanted to, though. Very, very much.

On the third night, you woke up to the sounds.

“Mmmmmph! Mmm…arrr…. Mmmm…. ow.”

You rubbed your eyes, rousing yourself. Instead of being in his own bed, like he usually was, Kyle sat at the foot of yours, his legs pulled to his chest. “What? What’s wrong?”

He grunted again, scooting closer to you on the bed. Although the room was dark, the small night light in the corner illuminated just enough of his face to show the pained expression, the stress in his dark eyes.

“Kyle? What’s the matter? Try…” You whispered. “Are you hurt?”

He nodded. Then shook his head. “Hmmmph… I’m……”

“You’re what? What is it?”

He struggled to speak, but what did come out sounded distinctly like your own name.

Kyle’s head dropped heavily to his chest, shamefully looking down at his erection as it tented his boxers. He lifted his eyes, staring at you from underneath his heavy brow and fluffy locks. Both hands clenched into fists, he pressed down into his groin, moaning.

Oh…. Oh fuck, you thought. Oh my fucking god, he’s got a boner.

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of… it’s normal. O-kay.”

Poor thing. He doesn’t know what to do…. He’s asking for help. He looked into your eyes with the most soulful, desperate pleading you’d ever seen. No man, even more together than him, had ever asked you for help like this. There was something underneath, another stain on his heart. You could feel it when your eyes locked for a second too long — but that wasn’t important. It didn’t change what you were about to do.

You fingered the ruched elastic of his boxers, scooping it towards you. The taut skin of his stomach was warm, and the heat increased as you neared the bush of hair. Kyle groaned and cloddishly bucked his hips to force your hand farther down. The searing hot tip slipped against the back of your hand, leaving a streak of precum on your skin.

“P……l…eaaasse…..” His chest was heaving up and down, forcing excited little breaths out of his open mouth.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and gripped his cock gently. It twitched against your hand and you felt another hot, viscid ribbon coat your knuckles. Oh fuck. He jerked his hips again as you began stroking, smearing his wetness along the shaft. He slackened the muscles in his neck, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Good? Does that feel better?”

His head moved on you, up and down, so you assumed it did. You decided to test it by going a little faster, and squeezing his cock a little harder. Instead of the guttural, almost pained groans  he’d given you before, the most pathetic little whimper left his throat. You lifted your gaze to the ceiling, rolling your eyes back. He was putty in your grip, begging for you with every muscle in his body. And that… drove you insane.

Carefully, quietly… you reached to your legs, gathering the edge of your nightgown into your palm, pulling it up your thigh until you had enough room to reach your own arousal. Wasting no time, you circled your clit slowly, slipping a finger inside between rotations.

“AAAAAGUHHH!”

You clapped your hand over Kyle’s mouth, eyes widening like saucers in the dark. You whispered louder than you ever had in your entire life. “Shhh! Kyle! Shhh!” He breathed hard out his nose. “I can’t help you if you’re loud… they’ll hear you.”

Underneath your fingers, Kyle’s plush lips parted just enough for you to notice. You froze. He looked down as far as his ocular anatomy allowed and his pupils dilated, the blackness consuming the already deep brown. His tongue swept across the underside of your fingers before forcing itself between them. He gripped your hand tightly at the wrist and yanked it down in a startling display of his inhuman strength.

“Wuh…. Want.”

You jerked your head back, confused. “What?”

He brought your hand back up, and like a child claiming that a toy was his, Kyle licked your pointer and index finger from the base to the tip of them. He swallowed.

“Waant….”

Holy shit. You realised. You realised what it was he wanted…. The hand you’d used to cover his mouth was that hand that you’d previously been fingering yourself with, the fingers that were coated in your own wetness. He wanted… that.

Nervously, you pulled your hand from his boxers, the elastic snapping against his tummy. You nodded once and inhaled a deep breath through your nose, a feeble attempt at pacifying the bundle of live wires you called your nerves. Kyle’s eyes never left yours, watching you intently as you planted your hands on either side of your body as leverage to push yourself back towards the head of the bed. You laid back on the pillow, knees touching and obscuring Kyle.

When you opened them, your breath rushed out from your lungs. He was so pretty, the way the moonlight illuminated his curls like an angel’s halo, outlining his broad form. His plaid shirt hung open, teasing at the body beneath. And then, of course, there was the erection. The fabric of his boxers were pulled tight.

You tilted your head down, pressing your chin against your chest. Your eyes were misty, doe-like, and you almost stuck your fingers in his mind to tell him to come to you. But he did it on his own accord and your heart gave an adoring flutter. Coming forward onto his hands, Kyle crawled on the bed to you, and you welcomed him in between your thighs. He lowered himself down onto his stomach.

“Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, Kyle…”

Kyle opened his mouth on your pussy, lapping at it hungrily. The smoothness of his teeth grazed your clit, and the heat of your arousal was unimaginable, burning deep within your core. You’d been eaten out, but not eaten out. Not like this. Zombies ate brains, not pussies.

And yet… you were being devoured within an inch of your life. Every clench brought out more cum, and Kyle was there to drink it up, flicking his tongue from your entrance to your clit repeatedly, until your vision went blurry with twinkling stars. Every time his tongue returned to its starting position, he always lingered and sometimes slipped in, delving into something he wanted more of. He was tasting you over and over again. Your mouth opened, at first giving nothing but the sound of your breath. His lips closed around your clit, his tongue driving up into your entrance, and a high pitched whine clawed its way out of your throat.

And just like that, the pleasure was gone. Kyle pulled away, panicked.

“Bad?!”  

You shook your head quickly, panting. “No, no…. Good. Very good, Kyle.”

His worried expression softened slightly, but he still looked unsure and scared to keep going. The sound you’d made… all he knew told him it was that he’d done something wrong and he’d hurt you.

“B….buh….. bad…… sssssound…..”

“Nonononono. Very… very good. I made that sound because it feels good. You’re doing a good job.”

He huffed out a breath, the warmth of it washing over you. You writhed, the backs of your thighs rubbing against his bare shoulders. Bent at the elbows, Kyle wrapped his forearms around your legs, wide hands twitching ever so slightly as they caressed you. There was something overwhelmingly erotic in the way he fearfully looked up at you from between your legs. You drew your bottom lip in, biting down as hard as you could to stifle the moan that threatened.

“Please,” you whined. “You’re doing so good, Kyle. It feels so good. You like it, right?”

He nodded, dropping his gaze to look at your cunt, a puddle forming on sheets below. His jaw hung slack as he went back in, his lips enveloping you fully. His tongue was hot and you were sensitive, writhing in his grip. You weren’t aware that you were writhing away from him until his fingers came to life, digging deep into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You arched your back as you came on his tongue, taking fistfuls of the sheets and tightening until you felt the fibres squeak against each other. Kyle growled into your cunt, pulling you closer into him. His tongue flattening against you, feeling the pulsating clenches as they happened.

Kyle straightened up to his knees, stiffly pulling his boxers down over the curve of his ass. His stiff cock sprung free, the swollen head, red and leaking. He seemed to know what he wanted to do, but didn’t know where to start. You scooted down, pressing your legs further open. Kyle shuffled forward on the bed, the springs creaking underneath you.

“It’s okay, Kyle… it’s okay.” Keeping your eyes on him, you took hold of his cock again and gently guided it towards your wet slit. “I’ll make you feel better.”

He allowed himself to be guided, following your direction. His squishy tip slipped in, compressed by your tight walls. The sound that Kyle made — something between a choking breath and a groan — was the only warning you got that a switch had flipped. He knew exactly what to do.

Kyle sunk his length into you, taking only a moment to revel in the feeling of your warm, wet insides. He quickly found his rhythm, bucking in and out with steady intention as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, mouth hanging slack. His pelvis slapped against yours, knocking against your clit each time your bodies met. The visual drove you insane, sending streaks of hot arousal right to your core.

“Gggoooooodddd….” He groaned. “G-good.”

He picked up speed, and you desperately tried to maintain coherency, nodding. Your nails dug into his back, holding on as tight as you could. “Guh-HOHm- my god. Good, yes. G-good, baby.”

Kyle’s large hands snaked their way to your shoulders, encasing them in a steely grip. He pulled himself into you, harder and harder until you felt an unfamiliar ache in your insides, where he could go no farther. You came for a second time with a high-pitched whimper and Kyle kept his pace, grunting. Your wetness splashed against your thighs as he thrust into you, and when you lifted your hips up slightly, Kyle’s fingers curled in, clamping down on your shoulders with a crushing strength. You held back your cries of pain, grinding your hips against his as he pumped into you. Just hold on… let him finish….  

Finally, he released his hold on you, collapsing onto your chest with a heavy breath. Once the vigorous movement had subsided, your sweat-soaked bodies were no longer immune to the lithe, chilly fingers of temperature. Still, you were warm underneath him.

So, so warm.

Kyle fell asleep with his cock inside you. And for the first time in three nights, he didn’t wake up once.

#Kyle Spencer #Kyle Spencer x reader #kyle spencer x y/n #AHS Coven #Kyle Spencer imagine #American Horror Story #Frankenkyle #myfics #ahs smut #american horror story coven #frankenkyle x reader #kyle spencer smut #kyle spencer x you #AHS fanfiction #Kyle Spencer x yn

[yes-divine-ruler]

You’re Forgiven - Franken-Kyle Spencer

Kyle feels bad he was being difficult while you were studying and now that you’re done, he wants to make it up to you.

cw: oral (f receiving)

"Ky, just sit still," you push Kyle's head away as he groans, adamant to finish at least one college lecture before bed. Kyle was being unbearable, taking the pen out of your hand as you tried to write notes, coming up behind you and tapping random keys on your keyboard. You had to sit and bite your tongue to stop yourself from screaming at him.

He lets out another groan, before you hear a loud smash behind you. Turning quickly in your desk chair, your eyes evert to your broken porcelain lamp on the floor by your nightstand, and Kyle looking exceptionally guilty on the edge of the bed.

"Kyle? What the fuck?" You growl, his eyes watching you as you leave your desk and crouch down to pick up the jagged porcelain shards of your now broken lamp.

"S-sorry," Kyle says quietly, fiddling with his fingers in his lap as you try to make sure your floor is safe to walk on.

"What were you thinking Kyle?" You frown, shaking your head in disbelief and dropping the pieces you'd retrieved in the trash can.

"Need-need you," Kyle chokes out as you return to your desk chair, this time covering your ears with your headphones, hoping to drown out the sound of Kyle's pleas. He never took no for an answer, and he couldn't grasp how important college was for you. It may be tough love, but it was the only way you felt you could get your point across.

When your lecture finished, you let out a relieved sigh, dropping the headphones onto your desk and closing your laptop. You turn again in your swivel chair, tiredly rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands. Kyle was asleep, his lips parted as he exhaled soft breaths. He looked peaceful, and you felt bad that you'd been so harsh to him earlier. Taking off your clothes, leaving you in only your panties, you crawled to nestle into the vacant space next to him on the bed.

You laid on your side, reaching out and brushing the blonde curls from his face. He stirred at your touch, his eyes fluttering open to look at you.

"I'm sorry Ky," you whisper, as a small smile creeps onto his face. He was just happy you were finally giving him attention.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, shuffling his body closer to yours and nestling his head in the crook of your neck. You take a deep breath, feeling his warm breath as it tickled your skin.

“It’s okay, I know,” you respond, planting a kiss reassuringly to his head.

“Make better?” Kyle asks, lifting up his head and looking back into your eyes. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, until you feel something hard poking at your thigh.

You let out a small chuckle, suddenly more awake as Kyle kisses your cheek. The room is dark now, the blinds letting in only the smallest amount of light to illuminate his face.

“How so?” You question, as he sits up, resting his hands on your shoulders and lying you down onto your back.

You watch his movements, as a kiss lands on your chest, just above your breasts. Kyle continues to kiss your chest, until suddenly your nipple is in his mouth. You left out a soft moan as your fingers return to his hair, combing it back out of his face as he hollows his cheeks and sucks.

“That feels so good,” you whine, his other hand coming up to knead your other breast in his palm.

He repeats the motion on the other nipple, before he’s kissing down the valley of your breasts.

You watch in anticipation as his kisses continue to go down further, until his face is square with your clothed heat. His fingers run over the slit, sinking slightly into the material to feel the wet patch in your panties.

“Wet,” Kyle says proudly, making you laugh and rest your head onto the pillow beneath you.

“What are you gonna do now Ky?” You bite your lip as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and pull them down your legs.

He’s always so mesmerised by your naked body and there was nothing he found more perfect.

“All mine,” Kyle says firmly, before his mouth makes the first contact with your clit.

You let out a gasp, your hands coming to your sides to ball up the sheet on the bed. Kyle positions your legs over his shoulders, and then dives back down to your pussy.

His tongue glides over your clit again and again, before sliding down to your opening and tasting your sweet arousal. He hums in content at the taste, the vibrations surging through your core.

You’d taught him how to give head from scratch only a few months ago, and now he was definitely a pro.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, suckling softly as your hips begin to rock up into his face.

He holds your thighs open with his hands, burying his face in your pussy and working expertly on getting you closer to the edge.

“So wet,” Kyle repeats, his middle finger making way to your entrance and sinking down into it.

You let out another throaty moan and Kyle inserts a second, and begins to pump them at a slow and pleasant pace.

“Just like that,” you sigh, feeling the build of pressure in your groin rise.

Kyle uses his other hand to seperate your folds from above, exposing your small bud to his hungry mouth. He laps at it in a way that has your toes curling and your jaw slacking.

“I’m gonna cum Kyle- oh fuck!” Kyle speeds up, curling his fingers up to meet your g spot, insistently kitten licking your clit until he feels the pulse under his tongue match the pulse around his fingers.

You almost scream when your climax hits, Kyle working you through your orgasm until your body begins to twitch at the oversensitivity.

“Mm Kyle, stop!” You giggle, as he smiles against your pussy, giving your aching clit a few more kisses before he raises his head.

“Good?” He asks, crawling over your naked body so his face was in line with yours.

You nod, using your thumb to wipe the slick that glistening on his chin.

“I guess I forgive you,” you joke, leaning up and connecting your lips in a heated kiss.

Taglist/ @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever r @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler @spill-the-t

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters requests #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #american horror story #2nd person pov #fem!reader #kyle spencer imagine #kyle Spencer #kyle spencer fluff #kyle spencer smut #franken kyle #ahs smut #ahs coven #ahs fandom

[lanawintersenthusiast]

me if i told the truth to my therapist:

#american horror story #ahs fandom #*chefs kiss* #oh me oh my #ahs coven #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs freakshow #i love him #kai anderson #kai anderson x reader #ahs smut #ahs cult #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x reader smut #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters #evan peters smut

[redroses07]

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.

#american horror story #ahs fandom #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs murder house #ahs coven #michael langdon x you #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #ahs x reader #cody fern #zoe benson #ahs fanfiction #ahs #michael langdon smut

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Hi! You know that inexperienced smut prompts that you reblogged? Could I request you a smut based on them pls? It would be a Kit Walker x fem reader smut based off prompts 14, 16 and 32 if possible... thanks! :)

of course!! i worked on this all day so i hope you enjoy :)) let me know what you think!

prompts:

14. “You’ve never even touched yourself?”

16. “What do you like?” “I don’t know.” “Then how about we find out together?”

32. “Is it going to hurt?”

~~~

Love in the Darkness

Kit Walker x f!reader

warnings: smut, soft dom kit, oral female receiving, slight fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), slight mentions of murder / stalking, loss of virginity, slight innocence kink if you squint hard enough, very minor drinking, i think that’s it but as always lmk if i forgot any!!!

summary: you never thought in a million years you’d fall in love with a murderer, but here we are.

word count: 3.6k

~~~

You were remanded to Briarcliff for what the doctors called “female hysteria”. But you weren’t hysterical, not even close. All you had done to get thrown in was get into a few fights with men who wouldn’t leave you alone. Stalkers, potential rapists, followed you around, not accepting your constant rejection. It wasn’t fair that you were punished for simply not wanting to be sexually harassed, but it was never fair for women. You’d known since you were a child that being a woman in this world catered to men would be difficult, but you never imagined it would be this difficult.

After being admitted to the asylum, you lost hope in all men, and most women. All the nuns besides Sister Mary Euinice treated you awful. They constantly berated you, telling you every day that you should be a more respectful young woman, that you should be flattered by the attention you get from men. It made you sick. But what made you angrier than anything though is how they called you “unclean” as if the whole situation was your fault. In the beginning you tried to explain to them that those dirty men were the unclean ones, but all that did was make them punish you more. So, you decided not to fight them anymore and take what they dished out.

When you were admitted you knew about Bloody Face. You knew you were going to be in the same place as him. You were scared at first. You knew the rumors, heard the news of what he did to those poor women. It gave you flashbacks to when those men stalked you. You considered yourself lucky that Bloody Face had already been caught, because if it were him following you, you’d be dead.

You were certainly surprised when you saw him for the first time. It was in the common room. You were sitting on one of the couches, trying your best to read a magazine while your fellow inmates did whatever it was, they do. Bloody Face walked in and immediately your eyes were drawn to him. He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. You were surprised at how handsome he was. You always imagined him as a large scary looking man, but he was quite the opposite. His real name was Kit Walker. He claimed to be innocent of all charges. You avoided him as best as you could.

One day though, you were placed on kitchen duty with him. You were frightened by him at first, worried he was going to bash your head against the metal tables until your brains oozed out. But all he did was silently separate the bread dough. His stance wasn’t threatening, but to be safe you stood on the opposite side of the table, the side closer to the door.

“I know you’re afraid of me,” he said out of the blue. His accent was thick, his voice soft.

You avoided his eye contact. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“If you aren’t afraid why are your hands shaking?” He asked. “Why are you standing all the way on the other side of the table?”

“Personal space,” you mumbled your answer.

Kit chuckled quietly, and it made you finally tear your eyes away from the dough that was in your hands. Your eyes met for the first time, and your heart beat began to quicken. What if this is his tactic? You thought. What if his charm and beauty is how he captures women?

“Perhaps I am wrong, I’ve heard you were locked up for attempting to kill a few upstanding guys.”

You shook your head. “That’s not true.”

“Really? Then what’s your side of the story?” He continued. By this point both of you had stopped working on the chore and instead stared at each other. It was far more interesting than working, you had to admit.

“They were trying to… force me to do things I didn’t want to do. I barely caused any harm, but they had more money than me so here I am,” you explained vaguely. “It wasn’t my fault.”

He chuckled; it made your eyebrows raise. “See, me and you aren’t too much different. Both of us were wrongly put in here.”

“You murdered and raped three women,” you said, looking back down at your hands.

“And you brutally tried to kill those men,” he replied.

You were about to reply, but the nuns entered and started to escort the two of you back to your rooms. That was the first time that you started to believe the innocence of Kit Walker.

~~~

As time began to pass and you and Kit were paired together more for chores you were convinced little by little of his innocence. It was the small things. Like how he would hold the door open for you, apologize if while the two of you spoke anything made you uncomfortable, and most importantly how he never questioned whether you were guilty or not.

Eventually, you found yourself becoming excited whenever the two of you spent time together. Kit was sweet, he was nothing at all like the horrible newspapers and radio reports made him out to be. He wasn’t crazy. In fact, he seemed to be the sanest person in Briarcliff besides yourself. You thought it was impossible, but you began to harbor feelings for “Bloody Face” and you found out one night he felt the same way for you.

It was movie night, the two of you snuck away to talk. You made it down to the kitchen without being caught, you were glad. For some reason you knew in your soul something different was going to happen on that night, and you were right. The two of you casually talked about what was happening with your plans to escape, but you noticed as you spoke Kit inched toward you, so slow that if you hadn’t been paying attention you wouldn’t have noticed.

“What are your plans if we succeed?” He asked.

You smile and lean back on one of the tables. “I want to go to the beach. Feel the sun on my skin again. It’s far too gloomy here, I’ve almost forgotten how it feels to be outside. What are your plans?”

“I suppose I’ll be going to the beach, since that’s where you will be,” he answered.

You feel your cheeks begin to burn. You look away and chuckle, you're nervous like the first time you ever spoke to him. But for a whole different reason. When you looked up at him again, he was barely a foot away from you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“You’d stay with me even after we get outta here?” You asked, your voice softer than before.

“I’d stay with you forever if you let me,” he replied. He reached forward and touched his knuckles to your cheek, brushing them so gently across your skin you can barely even feel it. You swore you couldn’t breathe. “I’ve never met anyone in my life that has as much of an effect on me as you do y/n. I can’t stay away from you.”

“Kit…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I understand if this is too much for you. I understand if I’m not enough for you, you are one special woman y/n. I just-”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence. You cut him off with your lips meeting his. He kissed you back as quick as he could, his hand now cupping your cheek. It was soft and sweet, everything you’d expected Kit would be like. After a few seconds he pulled back and looked down into your eyes, your knees felt weak at the look in his dark eyes.

“I think I’m in love with you,” you whispered. “No matter how odd that sounds it’s true. You’re the most caring man I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t help but want you.”

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long. I am in love with you, and once we get outta here I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Kit declared.

Before you could reply, he leaned down and connected his lips to yours once again. You felt as though you had died and were already in heaven. Being with Kit made you have hope, he was light in that everlasting darkness of Briarcliff. You loved him, you really did. And as the two of you kissed you knew you’d do anything to one day get out and marry him.

The kiss moved fast and before you knew it Kit was starting to put his hands on you. Your body felt as though it were on fire. Every inch of skin that Kit touched became lit with the flame. He moved his hands along your waist, your arms, your back… you couldn’t get enough. But as he started to reach for your breasts you pulled away. He looked down at you, concern on his face.

“Sorry did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. It’s just that well… I’ve never done anything like this before. That was my first kiss, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We’ll take things slow all right? We’re gonna have all the time in the world,” he spoke. He was so sincere; it made your heart melt.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied with a smile.

Kit returned the smile. “But would you mind it if I kissed you again?”

“I’d like that too.”

~~~

In the weeks that followed, you and Kit spent as much time as you could together, along with Lana planning your escape. You and Kit were set on getting out. He promised the second the two of you were free he’d marry you. You loved the fantasy. You’d be married in secret and run off together, forgetting all about the terrible parts of your past. He’d buy you a house in a calm neighborhood and you’d raise his kids. It was all you wanted.

One night the two off you had managed to get a few minutes alone in one of the bathrooms. You were against the wall, Kit’s lips on yours. He cupped one of your breasts, while his other hand was dragging its way up your thigh. You try your hardest to keep quiet, but as he begins to trail his lips down your neck you can’t help yourself. You’ve never felt such pleasure in your life.

“Can I touch you baby?” He whispered against your skin. “But you gotta stay quiet.”

“I don’t know if I can, I’ve never been touched down there,” you admitted, your cheeks turning red.

Kit moved back and looked you in the eye. “Well, you know what it feels like from yourself, it’ll be just like that.”

“Well, that’s the thing I’ve never really done that.”

“You’ve never even touched yourself?”

You shook your head and Kit exhaled deeply. You began to feel ashamed; he must’ve thought you were a prude. You figured he knew what you were thinking though, because he touched your face softly and gave you a smile.

“You’re purer than any of the nuns in here,” he joked, earning a small laugh from you. “You’re perfect. I just wanna ask, what do you like? You know, in those ways.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt these feelings for another person, hell I don’t even really know how all of it works. The only thing I was taught as a girl was that sex is when a man puts his… in a woman,” you explained.

“Then how about we find out together? There are some other things I wanna do to you than that,” he replied. He looked out the window and back to you before speaking again. “We don’t have too much time left, but let me try something before we go. Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you answered, and you meant it.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

You thought he was going to kiss you again, but instead he dropped to his knees. You were confused for a second. What was he doing? You then remembered the time you walked in on Shelley doing something to one of the guards. She was on her knees and his pants were down… she was using her mouth on him. That’s when it hit you. Kit was going to use his mouth on you.

He stuck his head under your gown and began to leave small kisses up your thigh. You covered your mouth with your hand and gasped. You’d never felt anything like it. He was quick with his motions, so quick you didn’t even have time to think. In a matter of seconds, he had pulled your panties down and spread your legs. You held in a breath and you felt his hitting your most sensitive spot.

Once his tongue made contact with your clit, that was it. You hit your head against the wall as you threw it back. His tongue was so warm, so soft. With every lick you felt electric shocks pulse throughout your body. You moaned into your hand, your legs becoming wobbly with each passing second. You’d never imagined that much pleasure was held between your legs. It was unearthly.

A wetness started to drip down your leg, but neither of you paid attention to it. You were too engulfed by the building sensation inside you, and Kit was too busy making it happen. You used your free hand to bunch up your gown, you wanted to see him. You didn’t expect him to already be looking up at you. The sight was one you never could have thought of. Kit’s dark eyes were locked on your own, you watched as he licked and kissed your clit. You were speechless.

“Kit, stop. I feel like I might pee,” you suddenly whispered. It was true, you did feel as though you were going to.

“You’re not going to pee, you’re going to cum,” he murmured. “Just let it happen.”

You were going to object, but that’s when you felt it. Your legs started to shake and you couldn’t stop the loud moan that left your lips. That was it, what you’d heard of through whispers. Your first orgasm. Kit didn’t stop for one second, in fact he sucked on your clit even harder. You felt your insides pulsating with pleasure, and by the time it was over you could barely stand.

Kit pulled your panties back up once you were finished and stood. You could see the glistening of your juices on his chin. He smiled and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth.

“I want to do that every day,” he said. “You’re delicious.”

“Oh Kit,” you mumbled before pulling him in for a kiss.

~~~

The day you and Kit were freed from Briarcliff was the second-best day of your life. The best day of your life came only a week after being free. It was your wedding day. You and Kit traveled a few towns to get to the quickest courthouse. Even though it wasn’t a real wedding, and even though it only lasted an hour, you would never trade it for anything else.

After the ceremony was over and you were officially Mrs. Walker, Kit took you to a motel. You were nervous, but more so excited for what was to come. Like you were straight out of a movie Kit picked you up bridal style and carried you inside your room, the both of you full of joy and laughter.

Once inside, you realized Kit had made preparations. Rose petals were on the floor trailing up to the bed. Candles were lit all around the room. You looked at the dresser and saw two glass cups accompanied by a bottle of champagne. Your heart melted at the gesture.

“Would you like some champagne Mrs. Walker?” He asked after placing you on the bed.

“Champagne, so fancy. Of course, I would Mr. Walker,” you answered with a laugh.

He grabbed the bottle and popped the top off, pouring both of your glasses and bringing it to you. He sat next to you on the bed and took a sip, you did the same. After he finished his glass, he got up and turned on the radio. The soft melody eased your tension a bit.

“Are you happy?” Kit’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

He was standing in front of you by this point, you looked up at him and smiled again. “I’m happier than ever my love.”

“So why am I getting the feeling you’re anxious?”

“I dunno,” you spoke, you placed your cup on the bedside table. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about.” He sits beside you and takes one of your hands in his. “Don’t be nervous, it’s gonna be good. It might hurt a little, but don’t worry I’ll take good care of you.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank you, for being so patient with me. Not many guys like to wait nowadays.”

“I’d wait forever if that’s what you wanted y/n, don’t feel pressured to do this just cause it’s our wedding night. We don’t have to.”

“No, I want to do this I’m just a bit nervous that’s all. I trust you’ll be gentle with me and make it as good as it can be,” you said. You kick off your heels and slip the little headband with your veil of your head. “I promise I’m ready.”

“I’ll be very gentle,” Kit spoke before closing the gap between your lips.

He keeps that promise throughout the entire night, going only at your pace. First, he laid you back on the bed, undressing you slowly. You couldn’t hold in your laughter as he struggled to drag your garter down with his teeth and you couldn’t stop blushing when he starred at your nude body and called you the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Watching him undress himself made you clench your thighs together in anticipation. His body was perfect, his abdomen full of muscles clear as day. Up until this point neither of you had seen each other fully naked, and you were both glad you waited. After he was undressed, he crawled back on top of you and resumed his previous kisses. He kissed down your jaw, your neck, until he took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned, your hands weaving through his hair as he sucked your nipple. It was a sensation you’d never even thought of being so good.

When he was done with that he moved down between your thighs and didn’t wait a moment to begin his careful licks on your clit. Your back arched, your thighs clenched around his head, especially after he slowly started to thrust a finger inside you. It was the first time anything had been inside you, and it didn’t feel half bad. In fact, after a few minutes you began to enjoy the feeling. That’s when he added a second finger.

You came fast, and Kit didn’t stop until you were almost asking him too from the overstimulation. Your chest was heaving as he moved on top of you. He kissed you hard, you could taste yourself on his lips. You knew it was time, and you weren’t nervous.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?”

All you did was nod. Kit placed a short kiss on your lips before spitting on his hand and lowering it to his hard dick. You felt him place it at your entrance, it was big. He placed his hands by either side of your head, lacing your hand in his on one side. Without wasting anymore time he began to push himself inside you. You gasped, grabbing his shoulder with your free hand.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispered.

You didn’t reply. You bit down on your lip until he was fully in. It hurt, but it wasn’t the worst pain you’d endured over the years. You could handle it. Kit waited until you gave him another nod to continue. Once you did, he started to slowly move in and out of you, each thrust hurting a little less than the previous one. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his soft noises only making the experience better.

“You can- you can go faster,” you said shakily after maybe ten minutes.

“You sure?” he mumbled.

“Yes.”

He did as you said and began to truly fuck you. You loved how much he loved it. His hand traveled down your body to grip your thigh. He lifted it up, his thrusts going deeper inside you than before. You moaned and pulled his lips to yours. He was insatiable. Biting your lip, sucking your tongue, it was nothing like what the two of you had done in Briarcliff. You loved it.

Kit didn’t last much longer after that. When he came, he moaned your name in a tone that made your stomach fill with butterflies. He collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy, his heart rate erratic, and his dick pulsing inside you. You moved your fingers through his sweaty hair and held him tight as he rode out his high.

“I love you,” you whispered softly. “And maybe it’s not the time to say this, but I’m grateful to have been put in that terrible place because it gave me you.”

He lifted his head from your chest and starred into your eyes as he spoke his next words. “I love you more and if I could go back in time, I would never change a thing. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

#evan peters #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #fanfiction #james march x reader #jimmy darling #kai anderson #kit walker #tate langdon #tate langdon x y/n #kit walker x reader #kit walker smut #kit walker x you #writing #ahs asylum #ahs smut #american horror story #american horror asylum #american horror coven #smut #i love him #i love her #women writers #writerscommunity #evan peters fic #questions #anon response

[whorefortheevans]

How The Evans React to you Having an Anxiety Attack

Since im having an anxiety attack rn i thought this would be a good way to get a quick post out lmfao

CW: not proofread, all lowercase, anxiety

Tate

tate's always with you, even if you cant see him

he also cares more about you than he has anyone else, so as soon as you start showing signs of anxiety, he knows right away

watches you like a hawk

the second your leg starts to bounce and your breathing becomes shallow, he walks right over to you

he's not great at talking through emotions, but he lays with you and lets you rest your head on his chest

wraps his arms around you tightly

kisses the top of your head

if you cry it'll make him cry too lmao

Kyle

if you're with him at the frat house, he'll take you upstairs to his room away from everyone else

if you're not with him, he answers your call at the first ring and will drive over to you even if its 3 in the morning

kyle is super emotionally available so its really easy to talk to him about what's making you anxious

he's very affectionate

rubs your arms, legs, and back

talks you through your anxiety and gets you a glass of water

i feel like he would be big on journaling, so he would buy you a little journal for when you get too anxious

Jimmy

i don't think jimmy is very familiar with what anxiety is

given the time period, jimmy thinks anyone with anxiety was automatically admitted to mental hospitals, so you had to explain to him what general anxiety is

he still didn't completely understand it, but he tries to be there for you when you get anxious

he sits with you and lets you talk

usually doesn't have much to say, so he just gives you lots of hugs

he offers to go on walks around the camp with you

sometimes he'll put you on the back of his motorcycle and drive you into town to help clear your mind

Pre-cult!Kai

kai's parents definitely didn't talk to him about mental health

so when you start getting anxious, he kind of freaks out thinking something is seriously wrong with you

he feels a little awkward talking about feelings, but he listens to you anyway

will awkwardly put his arm around you hoping its enough

he uses his free hand to send an SOS text to winter

Kai

i hate to say this bc i love him...but blue-haired kai would not put time into talking you through an anxiety attack

he would tell you to skip that day's meeting so you weren't a distraction to anyone

he lets you stay in his bed and checks up on you every now and then

if you want to talk with him, just forget about it because if you even start to explain to him what's bothering you he'll leave immediately

he might ask winter to spend some time with you so you're not completely alone

if he's in a good mood after his meeting, he'll sit with you in his bed and offer to get you food or water

#ahs asylum #ahs coven #ahs cult #ahs freakshow #ahs smut #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters fanfiction #ahs murder house #kai anderson #tate langdon #kyle spencer #jimmy darling #tate langdon x reader #kyle spencer x reader #jimmy darling x reader #kai anderson x reader #anxitey #ahs headcanons

[babygorewhore]

“Did I do good?” Kyle Spencer.

WARNINGS! Male masterbation. Fem reader. Oral! Fem receiving. Praise. Rough movement! Language. Witch! Reader. Humping.

You flicked your wrist, turning off your lamp as you grew tired of the night. Your day was filled with learning spells and rituals and history with the supreme. Your speciality was telekinesis and mind control. Something you practiced with permission of course. You turned over but heard shuffling down the hall. You assumed it was Madison who was more preoccupied with applying lip gloss than being friends.

Which you didn’t mind, you didn’t like her anyway. You fell asleep to the storm outside but as the hours past, you didn’t notice a blonde boy stumble inside your room, curious about you. He had learned to speak again thanks to the other witches but he was originally too shy to approach you. But he found you to be awfully pretty with your hair and pretty eyes. And luxurious lips that he wanted.

He sunk onto the floor and he looked at your sleeping form on the bed as you breathed. You weren’t bothered by the storm at all. He watched you intently as you moved onto your back, your oversized hoodie moving up as your free leg curled around the blanket. It was bare. His breath hitched as he watched you move. He didn’t do it often, but he started palming himself. Grunting at the contact as he imagined your hand on his dick.

You shifted in your sleep, sighing softly as a noise caught your attention as you dreamed of spells. You squinted in the dark, sensing someone in there with you. You noticed Kyle, the man who assisted the witches. He was quiet but loyal. You overheard that he was brought back from the dead. He had carried your bags earlier to your room.

He made a noise of pleasure and you immediately blushed. What was he doing? He moaned louder and it dawned on you. He was jerking off. You settled back into the blankets and tried to ignore him. What you didn’t realize was that Kyle noticed you were awake and wandered over to you, still hard and tense. He settled beside you on the bed and started to lean down.

“Kyle, wait a minute.” You pressed a hand to his chest and sat up again.

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes grew sad. His lips drew into a pout. “You-You scared of me?” You eased your hand and now it was gently tracing the open skin of his chest.

“No, I’m not scared. I’m just a little tired that’s all.” You responded with a smile. “You woke me up.”

“Sorry.” He tucked his hands onto his lap, still hard. “Can-Can-Can you help-me?” Your eyes widened and you immediately zeroed in on his crotch. You were nervous. You weren’t sure of the best way to please him.

His hands wrapped around his dick, through his boxers inside his hands. “Pl-please. To-Touch me. Plea-please?” He was whimpering against your neck, pressing sloppy kisses against the skin. You cleared your throat and tried to focus.

You reached down and fumbled inside his pajamas grey pants. You felt his large dick that was swollen and leaking with precum. You gently started moving your hand up and down, his naturally provided lube aiding your movements. He shuddered and started rutting against your hand. Moaning and whimpering, his kisses grew more messy, landing on your breast over your shirt.

“Mmm,” He said against your ear. Your core pulled as is hands griped your thighs. Roaming freely, over the bare flesh and twitched over your covered pussy.

Kyle licked up your neck, sucking at your jaw. “Fuck.” You muttered as he humped your hand.

He stopped abruptly and you paused, his contact gone. “Need-Need-“ He started and you waited patiently.

Kyle leaned forward and pushed you back a little too hard. His hands tugged down your underwear, the watch patch sticking as he tossed them aside. “What is it, Kyle?” You breathed.

“Taste-Taste you.” He pleaded and dived down. “Need you.” Now, you knew what he meant.

He lapped at your pussy, kitten licking the clit as he bobbed his head side to side. His fingernails dug into your hips and thighs as he sucked at your clit, his tongue dragging up and down to your entrance and curling inside you. He started at the top then slurped down the bottom, before harshly devouring you. His teeth gently grazed your folds.

“Jesus, fuck.” You moaned as your hips bucked. He was being relentless with his tongue. He reached down with his other hand and starting tugging at himself. At the same time.

“Let me touch you,” You offered but he immediately tensed.

“No, taste you.” He complained and you settled back. Your knees pressing against his head.

His blonde hair moved as his tongue flicked at your clit. You were growing close as the sensation clenched inside your stomach. Pressure starting building. No one had ever tasted you like this. As if he wanted to crawl inside your skin. He spit and drooled over your pussy as he continued his assault.

“Taste-Taste good.” He whispered as you climaxed, exploding with cum all over his mouth and chin. It dripped as he kept eating at you and you finally pushed him off, needing a break from his mouth.

“Thank you, Kyle.” You said to him, reaching to touch his dick but he shook his head. His pants wet. He came just from eating your pussy.

“Hug?” He asked and you opened your arms. He settled his head on your chest and snuggled deeper against you. “Did I-I-do good?” He stuttered and you kissed the top of his head.

“Yes, you did so good, Kyle. Good boy.” He sighed at the praise and drifted to sleep.

#evan peters #evan peters imagine #american horror story #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters x reader #tate langdon #ahs #ahs fanfic #ahs murder house #kit walker #kyle spencer x reader #Kyle Spencer #kyle Spencer smut #evan peters fanfic #evan peters characters #evan peters smut #evan peters x you #ahs cult #ahs coven #kai anderson x reader #smut #Drabble #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #Spotify

[yandereunsolved]

Macabre Monster - ,, yandere pre & post death Kyle Spencer

tw(s): yandere themes, mentions of suicide (Kyle), Madison's sa mentioned, Kyle's boundaries being crossed (not by reader), Kyle's trauma (non-descriptive)

✧ Both you and Kyle attended the same campus. That is where it all started. You both attended the same party. Kyle was slightly intoxicated when he met you. You were standing in the corner awkwardly with the distinctly red solo cup. You both got to talking, and something just clicked. You made your way to a backroom in the absolutely trashed frat house and just talked. You practically spilled out your guts on each other. Kyle told you everything—how his father died at a young age, how he had to take up the role of'man  of the house', all of the trauma sounding to him and his mother. After that day, there was just a connection with you. Call it a sort of codependent need for intimacy. He never had someone healthy to just hang around. He needed that; he craved it with his very being. So what's so wrong with letting that little bud of codependency flower into an entire garden of obsession?

✧ From that day forward, the two of you were practically inseparable. He got your number and texted you all the time. He invited you out to places. He gave you a bunch of gifts and trinkets. He drank and danced with you. He even did a really bad rendition of “Is This Love” by Whitesnake. You guys may have kissed once, twice, or three times, but you just seemed fine not putting a label on it. You still flirted with people and went out on dates. Kyle still partied with his frat brothers and went with the flow.

✧ As the months passed and your friendship grew, strange things started happening. Certain items of yours went missing. You'd get drunk, forget to take off your make-up, and wake up with it completely off and your entire skincare routine done. Your messy dorm became neat and tidy. Sometimes you'd even feel someone playing with your hair or massaging you in your sleep. You thought that they were all just tricks of your mind. 

✧ One thing that definitely was not a trick of your mind was when you read Kyle's mind for the first time. 'They're so slammin'. You blinked in surprise and kind of gave him a weird look. He continued on with the conversation, but more weird things kept popping into your head. 'I wanna kiss them.' 'I wonder if they got my gift.' 'I should probably sort their clothing again.' 'I'm so lucky to have them in my life. They are a total catch.' It disturbed you. That was the day you learned you had magical abilities. You were shipped off to Miss Robichaux's Academy.

✧ You didn't see him for a long time. It felt like a long time. It was really only three and a half weeks. For those three and a half weeks, Kyle was a mess. He turned your dorm upside down, but most of your belongings were gone. He had a panic attack and sat on the floor of your room and bawled his eyes out. He frantically texted you only to get a 'unable to send text' message over and over and over again, no matter how many times he tried. He tried over a hundred. He passed out in your room and missed his classes that day. He gathered what was left of your things and hoarded them in his room. He asked about you, and they said absolutely nothing. They wouldn't tell him anything. He was on the verge of offing himself. 

✧ That was until he saw you at the party. You had grown a bit in your abilities. You were still barely able to keep everyone's thoughts out of your head, but Nan helped you a bit. You had gone to the party with Madison and Zoe. You hadn't expected to be scooped up by Kyle and dragged into the back of the house. He kind of just pulled you into a hug and sobbed. You weren't sure how long it was. The one time you wanted to read his thoughts, you couldn't. Your ears were too busy hearing all of your blood rushing, as well as his and everybody else's in the house. 

✧ The rest of it was almost a blur. You both discovered Madison being assaulted. She must have had her drink spiked. All of the frat brothers were 'taking their turn with her'. No, not Kyle. Not your Kyle. He stepped in and chased them off. The next thing you knew, you were standing with Zoe, and the frat bus was driving off. Madison flipped it over with her abilities, and suddenly your entire world was crashing down. Neither of them went towards the bus. You did. You ran towards it and collapsed on the ground. You could feel only two people breathing. Neither of them matched Kyle's breath.

✧ The next week, you were so closed off and depressed that Madison graced you with the ability to get your little 'boyfriend', as she had dubbed him, back. You were morally against it, but Zoe argued that it was the right thing to do. All three of you completed the ritual. While you weren't exactly thrilled with practically selling your soul to the devil, you were strangledly excited to see your closest friend again. 

✧ When it seemingly didn't work, Madison left without both you and Zoe. Zoe hid behind you when Kyle came to life and attacked the security guard. No matter what you tried to do, he wouldn't let go of you. He only aimlessly grunted and kept his hands securely around you. He held you desperately, animalistically. It was like it was the only thing he remembered how to do. Which is strange because you only cuddled with Kyle—well,  a lot, actually, now that you think about it. 

✧ You had to stay with Misty when you tried to drop him off to get healed. He had an entire breakdown and nearly destroyed her shack because you tried to leave him. You told Zoe to just brush off your disappearance by saying that you were visiting a relative in town. If anybody had a problem with it, they could kiss your ass for all you cared. You had Kyle back. His health is all that matters to you.

✧ You managed to slip back to the academy while both were asleep. You managed to use a sleeping spell you had learned to cure your insomnia. Only you made it much stronger, so neither would be aware of your absence until you had already left. You weren't aware of Zoe's plans to bring Kyle back to his mother— If you can call her that. You also weren't aware of how distraught he was when he woke up, and you weren't in his arms. Neither Misty, nor Zoe, nor the person who birthed him could calm him down. He was worriedly grunting the entire time. He paced and searched around every corner of whatever he could touch to find you. He looked like a lost puppy, walking in circles in search of his owner.  

✧ Post-death Kyle has an oral fixation. He's like a toddler. Anything that can fit in his mouth will go in it. That includes you. He likes gently nibbling or just licking your skin. It gives him a sense of comfort and security. It also lights up that part of his mind that reminds him of when he gave you hickeys once. The first time Fraken Kyle accidentally gave you one, he was both pleased and freaked out. After you assured him that you were okay, he kept doing it. You have to teach him not to give you hickeys and small bruises. He doesn't listen. As long as it isn't hurting you physically, he'll continue to do it. Not because his mind is muddled, but because he's just that possessive over you. It's a way to mark you as his. The more primitive part of his brain needs that; it needs you to be his. 

✧ He has a multitude of issues with his body and the way it is. He often cowers away from you when he is naked and does his best to cover himself up. His fingers awkwardly trace the scars and the tattoos. He tries to tear his flesh off because he hates it so much. It isn't his body, quite literally. Frat boy Kyle never did anything like that. You even think that sometimes he flaunted his body to you on purpose. No, now you have to be the one to gently coax him out of his shell. With each kiss and loving word, another one of those mental wounds is being stitched up and healed. 

✧ All of those issues became especially clear when you rushed to Kyle's previous home. Zoe had already gotten there before you. You both found what was left of his mother on the carpet. It made you furious to think of what would have caused Kyle to have a reaction like this. He came into his old room whining like a starved animal. He was sobbing and could only utter two words over and over again. 'No leave, no leave, no leave.' Zoe was horrified at the scene of Kyle's dead family member. She went to go cook you all something, and you were just stuck with Kyle. Not that you minded. You almost felt a little possessive of him now—overprotective. He's still himself, and yet he's different now.  

✧ He refused to wash off the blood without you. Post-death Kyle always does that. You think it's because he believes you protect him from the mental scars that his mother gave him. It's partly that, but it's also partly something else. There are still parts of this brain that work and are able to scheme. He just wants to feel your body close to his. He just wants to take care of you. Just like before the accident. He doesn't consciously understand why he is doing this. He just knows that it has to be this way. It's like there are two different Kyle's pulling at his new version of him: the yandere one and the traumatized inner child of his.

✧ He pulls you in a lot of directions. He does it harshly if you don't want to go with him. He'll just haul you around as well. You are standing one moment, and the next you are being bridled by Kyle down the street. You both left Zoe, and you couldn't convince him to go back, much less get out of his vice grip. For an undead man, he sure gained a lot of strength. 

✧ He brought you both to an abandoned arcade, which the both of you would hide in sometimes. The owners couldn't pay rent, so they closed up shop. They left everything there, so people often broke in to steal parts from the machines and fool around. He vaguely remembered the place. His mind cannot remember exactly memories and reasons but feelings. This place felt good, and his old house felt bad. So he took you here, and now he feels perfect.

✧ His speech is basically nothing in the beginning. As time goes on, he develops a greater ability to communicate his words. That's why you often end up reading his mind instead. It's like wading through the swamp that Misty lived in. His mind has three different tracks: feelings, broken thoughts, and future actions. All three clash with each other because they are in various stages of regaining normalcy. He thinks in broken sentences, and sometimes it feels like he knows that you are able to read his mind. With things he seemingly doesn't want you to know, he whispers them within his mind. They get lost in translation. It's like that fog in his mind is purposely keeping you away from certain actions, thoughts, or feelings he has.

✧ His mood is dependent on your mood. You first learned this when you brought him back to the academy. You locked both him and yourself in your room. You couldn't hold back the tears, and you broke down. You were just so fucking sick of everything. Sick of this house. Sick of the other witches. Sick of your powers. You just wanted the Kyle you knew back. They just went and revived him—he wanted to be an engineer. Now he's a Frakenstines monster built back with the parts of his shitty frat brothers. You guys didn't even label what you had.

✧ You were so busy crying that you didn't realize Kyle was sobbing as well. He had curled up next to you and just started crying. When you stopped, he slowly quieted down. He brought you into an awkward cuddle on the dusty floor of your room. You almost wanted to laugh. Kyle was always like that. If you were crying, he'd pick you up in a hug and start humming something from Toto or Nirvana. He'd make really bad jokes and show you silly faces. It almost mirrored now. Kyle was trying to do something to a silly face. It looked more like he was gonna start growling at you. It made you chuckle a bit. Even now, he could make you feel better.

✧ That was only one way in which he mimicked your moods—mimicks you. He's much more prone to outbursts when you are angry or frustrated. If you slam your palms on the table out of irritation, he'll do the same. Only he'll accidentally break the table. That's happened more times than you'd care to admit. The coven is going to need a separate fund to just pay for the stuff Kyle breaks. 

✧ Your habits and routine are what also help him regain some of his independence. He watches you with a keen eye. He imitates most everything you do. Of course, his actions are clumsy, and sometimes he breaks things, but he still tries his best. Frat Kyle would do that as well to tease you. He'd tease you out of bad habits such as biting your nails or forgetting to drink water. He nearly shoved a water bottle down your throat during your study hall when you casually confessed to him that you hadn't drank anything all day.

✧ That's the thing about people, right? They always surprise you. Zoe knocked you out and dragged Kyle down to the greenhouse to chain him up. She did. Madison returned. It's like death means nothing to these people. All of those memories with Kyle are yours. He remembers those feelings he had for you. Which is why it's so hard for you to be around him. He's just someone who needs someone. That someone just happened to be you.

✧ It's a good thing that little miss 'I'm going to save him' didn't kill him down there. He probably would have killed her if she really tried. He escaped and ran up to your room. He refused to move from your body until you woke up. You were the one put in charge of caring for him. Well, nobody else really could. You are the only one who is able to untangle his mind. You could still see Kyle in there. You saw almost every part of him. Everybody around him just took, took, took. You're the only one he'd let take from him anymore.

✧ He developed a habit of touching your temples whenever he wanted to really, really tell you something or communicate. It was kind of cute. He looks up at you with those doe eyes and just concentrates really hard on thinking correctly. When you respond, he lights up and bounces on the balls of his feet. It was cute until it wasn't. Sometimes the thoughts you heard from him kept you up at night.

'Kill everyone... for... you. You mine. Like before. Remember?'

'Steal stuff of yours. Keep it. Home. You.'

'Massage you like before. When sleeping. Adorable— adorable sleeper.'

'Scars. Scars like mine. Hurt you. Scars like mine. All get scars like mine.'

'Party together. Two. Us. Booze. Ex-boy dead. Me. Did it. So party. Us. Two. Only.'

✧ You didn't truly understand why he would think those things or act this way. You did understand it a little the day Zoe and Madison tried to make him a glorified sex doll. At that point, not even glorified. You knew all the things Kyle had been through. You constantly have heard his mind. When Madison started touching him like that the earth trembled beneath you, quite literally. The entire state shook. You may or may not have accidentally absorbed some of Kyle's emotions. So when Madison did that you just about wanted to tear her head off. Kyle gave you a scared, confused look.

'Good feeling? Bad feeling? Help, please.'

She was lucky to have been revived from the dead once. You were itching to put her back under. That scared you, but it also made you feel safe. Kyle always stood up for you when people made you uncomfortable. You never really had the chance to do it for him because he wouldn't let you. When you absorbed his feelings you really felt him. It was intoxicating. It's safe to say Kyle put his fingers on your temple and asked you a lot of questions about that encounter.

✧ Kyle asks a lot of questions. It's part of you teaching him how to remember himself. Some of those things are best left not remembered. Some of the questions are appropriate and some of them are not. You still remember him asking if you two ever did it. He asks a lot of questions about all of the witch and magic stuff. It is what he was most curious about before he died. After all, you just disappeared on him. He almost killed himself because of that. He ended up dead anyway. The irony is lost on him, but not on you.

'Magic? You?'

"I can read minds, remember? That's how we communicate. I've also learned that people's emotions affect me. I can make people feel things— or use their energy to make things happen."

'Like—'

He had a breakdown after that. He remembered you being taken from him. He would never let that happen again. Never.

✧ He's territorial, in case you couldn't tell. He isn't exactly the master of subtly. He grunts and smacks anyone in the house that gets too close to him, except you. He holds everything he loves close to him, including you. He has a bad habit of murdering people you interact with. You'd tried to explain it to him, but he adamantly refused to stop. You aren't naive about what all of this means for you. He isn't exactly in the condition to keep his darkest secrets away from you, mostly. Still, your abilities connect you with his emotions. You can't entirely control it. So you need to be around him just as much as he needs to be around you. You do your best to get him to stop killing people. You truly do. It's just that doe-eyed expression he gives you that makes you give into him every single time. 

✧ The tablet you gifted him is the thing he is second-most territorial about. He always keeps it with him. He watches it when it's on the charger. You gave him a protective covering for it and a bag so he could carry it around. It's like his safety item. You have a bunch of games on there to help him learn. You also downloaded things that he liked before his death. You have an entire album of just you and him on that thing. Every time he sees you, he wants to take a new picture of you to put in the album. It makes him remember a little bit more.

✧ He traces the outline of your figure in every photo. You've caught him kissing his tablet with a picture of you on it more times than you'd like to admit. He always gives you this kind of blank but dopey smile afterwards. His pupils are always dilated around you, so it kind of makes him look like he's high. You don't know if the pupil thing is because of his resurrection, something with your magic, or if he is just that obsessed with you. He is just that obsessed with you.

✧ He also decorated the bag you got him with cloth markers. It was an exercise you did to help him with his fine motor skills. It was relaxing until he drew himself with both of you holding hands while everything was on fire around you. That was what you understood of the drawing anyway. You still let him keep it on there. He doesn't let anyone else touch the bag. Nan tried to touch it once, and he nearly bit her fingers off.

✧ You have to teach him to be gentle with others. He's gentle around you, but with anyone else, he has a very high chance of breaking one of their bones. You start off with animals first. They are less confrontational than humans and are genuinely easier to get alone with. Only he snaps the dog's neck and most every other animal you try to introduce to him. He only stops when he sees you getting upset. His mind immediately filled with shame in those moments. 'No. You plus me. No animals. Sorry. Love you.'

✧ He has a tendency to watch you at night. Just like he secretly did before all of this happened. He crawls into your bed and plays with the strands of your hair. He wraps himself around you tightly. Most of the time, he is the big spoon. He just likes placing his head over yours. He is obsessed with listening to your breathing and the beating of your heart. It reminds him that you are still with him.

✧ He 100% kills any witch hunter within any radius of you. If he hears anything with the word 'witch hunter', he is off searching for that person. Part of him doesn't want to murder, but the other part of him is more than eager to get rid of the person who wanted the coven harmed. He still mostly protects you, but after awhile, he learns to grow a bit more protective of the people you actually like in the coven. He doesn't want to see you in any distress. So protecting those close to you counts. In a dangerous situation he will still save you first. Even though you are more than able to handle yourself, Kyle still does it for you.

✧ Madison still absolutely cannot stand your relationship and close proximity to Kyle. She believes that it should be her who loves him. During the test of concilium, she tried to make Kyle kill you. You sensed something in his brain shut off at that point. That scared inner child was angry, and so was his violently obsessive side. It's like his need for you outweighed any other thought Madison could put in his mind. He didn't kill her then. He waited until she failed. Then he stalked into her room, and well, they never found her body. On some level, everyone knows it was Kyle, but it's left unsaid. That's just one of the many secrets of Kyle's that you will keep with you to the grave.

✧ You may not have completed all of the seven wonders, but you did become one of the new witches on the Witch Council. With Cordelia's blessing and a yandere, semi-functioning Kyle, you both set out across the world to find witches and bring them to safety within the academy's doors. The question remains: will he allow you to do so? Or is his docile behavior just a ruse to hide you away and make you permanently his?

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

⟿ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser

.ೃ࿐ -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- .ೃ࿐

#american horror story #ahs coven #kyle spencer #yandere kyle spencer #yandere #kyle spencer x reader #yandere kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer x you #yandere kyle spencer x you #gn reader #yandere headcanons #ahs headcanons #my headcanons #headcanons and stuff #american horror story x reader #yandere american horror story x reader #ahs fanfiction

[not-alien-girl-v]

can i request a break up make up imagine with kyle🥹❤️

warning: weird shit

note: alternate ending of this fic right here. basically if kyle never stopped y/n when she walked away. you don't have to read that one first, but i would recommend it. also i love inserting myself into these fics as a supporting character. you cannot stop me from doing this ever. leave a like please gang!!

now even more enraged than the moment she exited the car, y/n stomps after him.

when he sees her standing before him outside, she notices the gentle smile playing on his bruised face and she almost feels guilty for being about to yell at him, but soon remembers what he did.

"what the fuck is your problem?" she yells.

"you're my problem," he grumbles, picking himself off the ground an dusting off his jeans with the palms of his sweaty hands.

she ignores his almost cute quip. "you think you can just act like you fucking own me? like i'm your property? because i'm not, i shouldn't have to tell you how fucked that is, kyle!"

"so do you do this a lot? you flirt with random guys at parties. parties that i'm at? do you tell them you have a boyfriend before you blow them or what?"

"i'm not a slut, if that's what your implying. i've never done what you accused me of, not even tonight. we were having an innocent conversation when you came in like my fucking owner. but if that's what you think i do all the time, if you genuinely believe that, then maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

each footstep pounds on the pavement like a giant retreating into the clouds, but it's really y/n marching home. home to her house, where she wouldn't be treated in such poor conditions. somewhere where she'd finally get a little respect, something kyle was deficient in tonight, for some god forsaken reason.

kyle should have stopped her. he should have said something, grabbed her wrist, got on his knees, groveled, begged, pleaded. he would like to say the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream was the main suspect for this felony, but who was he kidding? it was all him, him and his stupid, stupid brain.

the next few days felt like a punishment from god himself, and kyle genuinely began to wonder if he displeased some higher power who has now showered him in eternal darkness.

sure, it was just that his girlfriend broke up with him and wouldn't return his - what was it, like 50? - calls to her cellphone, her home phone, her roommate's phone, even her mom wouldn't answer the line.

when one main source of happiness is briskly removed from one's life, one begins to realize how shitty said life is without it. his classes dragged along like a snail on a mattress left out to dry in the sun, with the lack of promise that one day he'll get his degree and a high paying engineering job that will support him and his (hopefully) future wife. now it was just a 2 hour class.

and what was he supposed to do out of class? the routine of texting his girlfriend first thing class ended was interrupted. who was he supposed to text now? his mom? not gonna happen. his frat brothers? unlikely.

not only was y/n his girlfriend but she was also his best friend, and he couldn't imagine a current life or any future possibility of a life if she wasn't by his side.

he was so screwed.

so, like any smart grown adult would, he went on wikihow. his fingers press into the black laptop keyboard, 'how to get my girlfriend to take me back.'

leave her alone

done, kyle hadn't spoken to her in days now.

2. start talking to another girl

not sure how that could possibly help his case, but he was open to it if that's what he needed to do.

3. tap your inner alpha male

kyle wasn't too sure he had one of those. if he had to guess, his spirit animal would probably be a hamster or perhaps a well-tempered gerbil.

as the article read, 'most girls are attracted to the alpha male for deep biological reasons: they believe he can provide for them better, protect them better, and give her biologically fit children. even if you don't think that alpha males are your ex's type, subtle changes might work on her: pump out your chest a bit, make an effort to work out your arms and thighs, and project strength.'

he would endure anything for her. and wikihow was never wrong, so this technique was a sure thing.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

the plan started with hitting the gym 3 times before making his move. once that same day he read the article, once the next day, and with one day of rest, he went back on saturday, the day he aimed to get her back.

in fact, he was fresh out of the gym, sweat still being the substance slightly gluing his clothes to his body, when he arrived at her house. he made the wise decision to skip step two, as he didn't want her to think he was moving on to other girls, which it would pretty much guarantee.

instead of ringing the doorbell, he pounds the door, hard, adrenaline moving through him, looking like a cracked up mad man. he knocks three times (three is his lucky number).

unfortunately, her roommate, violet, answers instead of y/n.

"oh. what are you doing here? and why do you look... like that?" she doesn't invite him in, in fact, she stands her ground center in the doorway, as if informing him that he was not welcome past the threshold like a vampire.

"i've got something to say to her, is she here?" kyle demands, perhaps a little too loudly, and violet gives him a look, but slowly nods her head.

"yeah she's here."

"well, can i speak to her?"

"i'll ask. but if she says no, you're out of here, got it?" with a solemn nod of his sweaty head, she closes the door, not locking it, but walking further into the apartment.

to his glee, y/n is the next face he sees when the door opens for the second time, and he can't help but notice violet carefully watching from behind a corner, lurking like a ghost, but ultimately judging his every move.

"kyle? are you okay? you look a little... frazzled." she speaks delicately to him. why do people keep saying that to him? he ignores the lack of anger in her voice, the fact that she's not slapping his stupid face right now like she probably should be. no, he's got something fresh on his mind.

his chest is puffed out, his voice firm and again, a little on the louder side, all details adding to y/n's concern, she worries he's contracted rabies or something horrible explaining why he's so sweaty and icky looking at her doorstep.

"i'm fine-"

"hey, come inside, let me take your temperature, you look like you have a fever," she doesn't let him finish as she yanks him in by the wrist, cringing at the dampness of it, but nevertheless, pushes him down onto her couch.

"you're really gonna let him get his funk all over my nice couch?" he hears violet whisper to y/n, something he assumes he's not supposed to hear.

"it's our nice couch, and look at him, he clearly needs medical attention right now."

"he needs your attention right now, go talk with him." violet ushers y/n over to him and he looks ready to present a long speech.

once y/n takes a tentative seat a comfortable distance from kyle on the couch, he starts. "look, I'm sorry-"

"i forgive you."

"what?" his shoulders slump a little bit but in a good way, like he's actually relaxed now.

"i forgive you. i can't stay mad at you forever. i was just too proud to say i was sorry for walking out, so i guess i was just waiting for you to say something first."

"then why didn't you answer my calls?"

"don't get me wrong, i was angry, i was really angry for the first few days, and i had every right to be, but i don't think i should have walked away from you like that. i felt like it showed i didn't value our relationship, and i do. i know you only ever do what you do because you love me. it's just hard to remember that sometimes."

"sweetie, i had a whole speech ready to win you over with. i read a wikihow tutorial, i went to the gym 3 times this week! stop making this so easy!"

"is that why you're so sweaty?"

he gives a playful glare.

"sorry, do you want me to be angry again so you can give your little presentation?"

"just come here," he opens his arms and begins to pull her in when he feels her tense and move away.

"how about a shower first?"

"really?"

"dead serious, baby. i love you, but you smell like shit. take a shower and maybe i'll let you make it up to me." a playful wink is all kyle needs to spring back to life, into the bathroom in less than a moment.

#frat boy kyle #kyle spencer #kyle spencer fluff #kyle spencer angst #kyle spencer x reader #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #ahs fandom #ahs coven #ahs coven fanfiction #american horror story #american horror story fanfiction #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters #fanfiction #fanfic

[greenxgloss]

haaaiii mootie pie!! i'm here with a lil request :3

so like, i don't have any actual ideas BUT soft fluffy gentle sex with charlie hhrnmmggnghnrhhrnrm 😵‍💫 idk sorry, bye bye mwahh!!

MOOTIE PIE I LOVE THAT AND THE DRAWING this is so cute

Movie Date (Charlie Walker) NSFW

Tags: @romanroyapoligist @nevvdrinksteaa @444rockstargf @wildathevrt

Summary: you ask Charlie on a movie date at home and you escalate the moment, unable to hold yourself back Contents: Fem!Reader, NSFW, Use of Y/N, Soft!Dom!Charlie (cuz ik you like that one pooks), unprotected sex, p in v, reader receiving oral

You slipped on your black lace set as you got ready for your date with Charlie. you finally worked up the courage to ask him out knowing he wouldn't make the first move and you planned to put out on the first date of course.

You finished getting ready, sitting in excitement waiting for the clock to hit. and suddenly you heard the knock on your front door. quickly you got the popcorn out and ran to the door to answer it. "Hi!" you exclaimed, your eagerness getting away from you. And you would have been embarrassed if it wasn't for the grin already glued to his face with flowers in his hands. "You sweet boy." you said pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. "Hi." he said, exhaling like he'd been holding his breath and immediately you could tell he was nervous.

"I got some new horror movies for us to watch." you said, bubbly and excited, taking the bouquet from his hands and leading him to the kitchen to search for a vase. "That's actually the sweetest thing." he giggled. all he could do was look at you endearingly like he was staring at his dream girl. "you haven't kissed me yet." he said, holding his hands behind his back like a boy waiting patiently for his turn. you giggled. "in time my sweet boy." you teased, taking his hand and leading him to the living room after putting the flowers in water.

You plugged in the first movie and sat next to Charlie, crossing a leg over his lap and snuggling into him, making sure you jumped into him when a scary scene came on. obviously, you weren't scared you just wanted him to hug you tighter. your hands unconsciously slipped down his waist.

He let out a forced yawn and wrapped his arm around you, causing you to giggle. "you're such a cliche." you told him. "i-is that bad?" he asked, looking down at you. "no I like it, I like the cliche, I like when you touch me." you whispered, causing him to reach around and gently lay his hand on your lower stomach. your breath hitched. "like this?" he asked quietly and you nodded in response as he inched his hands lower. "you know why I haven't kissed you yet?" you asked, getting up and turning to straddle him. "to torture me?" he asked, looking up at you and placing his hands on your hips. "no I just knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself once I started." you told him as you leaned down to kiss him.

You tugged at his shirt and he pulled away to take it off. you sat back and watched him, running your hands down his chest. "God Charlie you're so fine." you whispered. he pulled you in, kissing you softly and sensually, raising the hair on your arms. "Charlie." you spoke. "yeah?" he breathed out. "I need you." You began unzipping his jeans as you began getting undressed. "oh you planned to put out on the first date huh?" he asked almost out of breath eyefucking you in your matching set and it made you more eager, you just wanted to put your hands all over him. "of course I did." you giggled, wiggling out of your jeans. you saw his eyes falter for a moment, thinking you probably did this with most guys. "only for you Charlie." you whispered, getting back on his lap.

Charlie already had a hard on, begging for your gentle hands to wrap around it. you began grinding your hips down and his mouth opened right up. "oh fuck it feels so good, Y/N." he gripped your hips gently, scared to bruise you. charlie leaned in to gently bite down on your neck, leaving hickeys. "brand me, baby. I want to be at school showing people I'm yours." your words tasting like sugar slipping through your lips. though his mouth wasn't on yours, Charlie groaned into your skin at how sweet you tasted. he reached down to pull your panties aside and lifted you to slowly slip himself into your heat.

he craved you so bad, wanting to please you and listen to you whine out his name. This being exactly what you did as it slipped deeper and deeper. "oh Charlie fuck." the sound of your moan pushing Charlie to lightly buck his hip up. "yeah? that feels good? tell me what you want. faster?" he asked, watching you close your eyes in pleasure. "no keep going slow I like it. please please just keep going." you said reaching down and rubbing tight circles on your clit. "that's my job baby let me do all the work." he said, gently pulling away your hand and flipping you on your back now in missionary.

he replaced your hand and began rubbing those quick tight circles while keeping his slow pace. you were now a moaning mess begging him to speed up. "you feel so good Y/N." he said both of you now sweating and feeling your release approach. "I'm- I'm close Charlie." you stuttered as his thrust became sloppy. you gripped the pillow behind you as you felt yourself untangle and melt under his touch. he moaned out, collapsing on your chest.

"you're so beautiful." he let out as you both caught your breath. "and wow you sound just as beautiful." you could hear his smirk as you said this, running your hands through his hair. "speak for yourself loser." you joked. "right I'm the loser but you couldn't kiss me because you wouldn't be able to hold back from fucking." he said looking up at you, leading you to lightly pulling his hair. "watch it pretty boy." you said, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

"Can I.." he trailed off, reaching his hand down to your heat. "UM YES? Be gentle I'm still sensitive" you exclaimed. "I love it when you ask for permission like I'd ever say no." you said, rushing to sit up when he got off you. he spread your legs and kissed up your thighs until he reached your dripping heat. "I'll make sure to do it every time." he said before licking a stripe up your pussy. you let out a quiet moan, your hand flying up to your mouth. "don't cover your mouth baby I wanna hear those sweet moans." he whispered up at you, pulling away. you nodded. he went back down, sucking and gently biting causing your back to arch as you gripped his hair. "oh god it's so good." you whimpered as his tongue dipped into you and before you knew it you spilled your release into his mouth. "you taste so good Y/N." he said, getting up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips, biting his lower lip. "you can have a taste whenever you want, my love." you said, pulling away. the both of you cuddling on the couch the rest of the night, switching the movie over to a romcom and feeding each other popcorn.

there would definitely be more dates.

A/N: i worked a little bit more on this one HOPE YOU LIKED IT ARTIE!!

#rory culkin #ahs #ahsfx #fanfic #jimmy darling #rory culkin characters #me when rory #spotify #ahs fanfiction #clyde electrick children #evan peters icons #chris evans #evan peters #evan peters edit #evan peters fandom #evan peters smut #jimmy darling fluff #tatelangdon #tate langdon #tate and violet #tate langdon fluff #colin shea #adult world #clipping adam #rory culkin fanfic #rory monahan #rory x reader #ahs roanoke #american horror story coven

[evanslvr]

𝙫𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 < 𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑜𝑛 >

• 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 •

• 𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙀𝙓𝙋𝙇𝙄𝘾𝙄𝙏 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘼𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿•

𝙖/𝙣: 𝙞𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙔 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩

(𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪)

wc: 912

•••

𝑝𝑟𝑒-𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒:

I couldn't stop staring at her, she was so beautiful and goddess like. The way she would play with her hair and the way she would smile was so hypnotic. I would love to see her on her knees, looking up at me with those pretty eyes, or to have her laying on my bed as I fucked her, showing her no mercy. I would kill just to hear her moan out my name and beg for me to slow down.

***

"Tate, Tate please! It's too much!" She whimpers, as i thrusted harshly into her tight pussy. I wrap my hand around her neck and squeeze hardly, making her whimper even louder. "I'm almost there baby," I growl in her ear, "you're gonna make me cum soon." She moans loudly and arches her head back into the pillow, still pleading for me to slow down my pace. I wasn't going to, I wanted her to feel every inch of me inside of her.

I grab her wrists and pin them over her head, holding her in place. I could hear the slapping sounds of our bodies meeting and the wet squelching noises that came from between us. I leaned forward and kissed her softly, letting my tongue slide into her mouth as I slowly pulled out. I pushed back in, fucking her harder and faster until we were both breathing heavily.

"Please..." She begs, gasping for air. "I can't take it anymore!" I pull out completely and slam back into her again, this time much more forcefully. She screams and bucks against me as I bury myself deep inside of her, hitting all the right spots. "Oh, baby, you're so fucking tight.."I pant, feeling my cock pulsing with pleasure.

Her body trembles and shakes, and I can tell she's close to another orgasm. I push her onto her back and lean over her, kissing her deeply before I suck on her neck. She gasps and shivers, pressing her chest against mine. Her hands run through my messy hair, and I can feel her nails digging deeply into my scalp.

"Don't stop...don't stop...please don't stop," she cries, I grab her legs and spread them a little wide, giving me full access to her pussy. I bite her shoulder and hold her down, continuing to thrust into her with all my strength. "Fuck yes! Oh fuck!" She screams, her voice cracking. I watch as her whole body tenses up, and then she lets out a long wail of ecstasy.

I start to feel light headed as well, but I keep going. I want to give her the most intense orgasm possible, and I know I can do it. "Come on baby, come for me," I whisper in her ear, rubbing my thumb along her clit. She groans and starts to buck her hips up against me, pushing me deeper inside of her. I reach up and cup her breasts, squeezing them roughly as I continue to thrust. "Yes! Yes! Oh God, YES!" She screams, arching her back and throwing her head back. Her body goes rigid and she starts to shake violently, clenching around me as she cums.

I let go of her arms and grab her thighs, holding her steady. Loud moans escaped my mouth and that's when I quickly pulled out and released onto her stomach, nearly coating it . She gasps for breath and lays still, catching her breath.

***

"Tate?" I instantly jump out of my thoughts once I heard a voice. I look in the direction of the voice and surprisingly it was Y/n. "O-oh..h-hey..Y/n."

"What are you doing here?" I ask, turning towards her. "I uhm...I just wanted to see if i could borrow the poem you're reading. You know. Childe Harold's Pilgrimage." She says, blushing slightly.

I nod, handing the book over to her. "Thanks, Tate." She says, smiling subtly. I smile back at her and then look away. "Also, Tate, uh.." She starts. "You know that science project we have?" I nodded, "Well, I don't really have a partner so I was wondering if you would wanna be my partner? It's okay if you don't want to."

I was shocked and flustered. Out of all the people she knows why would she choose me? "Uhm, really? Are-are you sure?" I stammer. She nods, biting her

lip. "Yeah, I am." She takes a deep breath and looks at me, straight into my eyes. "Oh..well..maybe we could do it at your house?" I said, hoping she'll say yes. I really don't want her to meet my mother. "Yeah, sure that'll be fine. See you later, Tate.." She says, walking away.

I stare after her, wondering what just happened. I was so confused, nobody really wanted to hang out with me so it was surprising to have her ask me that. Plus, it was weird, knowing that I just fantasized about her. I can't believe I did that. I was so embarrassed when I realized what I was thinking.

God, I'm such a weirdo.

••••

A/n: I need professional help. I apologize deeply for my sins.

#ahs #ahs fanfic #evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #kai anderson #smut #tate langdon smut #american horror story #kit walker ahs #ahs murder house #ahs coven #ahs smut #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic smut #evanpeters

[yes-divine-ruler]

Okay okay okay, but imagine; prompt #27 and #3 with Sub!FrankenKyle 🫣🫣🫣🫣

GENIUS. UUU RR A GENIUS!

Franken-Kyle Smut Drabble

Prompts: “Here, let me show you how to do it.” & “Aw, your legs are trembling~ does it feel that good?”

*G!N Reader*

Kyle stares up at you from beneath his lashes, a small pout on his lips. It was becoming increasingly harder for you to figure out what he needed, but after asking him to point to where it hurts, it was evident what the problem was.

“Take off your pants, Kyle. Do you want me to help you?” You sit opposite Kyle on the bed, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth as you watch Kyle get up.

He stands at the foot of the bed, groaning as he tries to pinch the zipper between his fingers to unfasten his pants. He struggles, his fingers slipping.

A frustrated groan escapes his lips, and he begins to tug at his hair.

“Shh shh, Kyle it’s okay,” you grab onto his wrist, and try and pull his hand away from his blonde curls.

“I-idiot!” Kyle cries, his eyes full of tears as he peers into yours.

“Here-“ you pull his arm down to his side, “let me show you how to do it.”

Kyle stands still, his heart pounding in his ears, watching intently as you tug down his zipper and unbutton his jeans.

He lets out a small whine once the pants are off his legs, and crawls into bed beside you.

“I can make you feel good, Ky,” you whisper, your hand palming him through his white boxers.

Kyle lets out a small moan, his eyes squeezing shut and his toes curling in his socks as you apply pressure to his throbbing erection.

“Let me take these off, too,” you kiss just below his navel before your fingertips hook into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down to his ankles.

His cock springs to life, slapping against his stomach. You only just noticed how painful it must’ve been, having no idea how long he’d had this little problem for.

“Oh baby,” you coo, wasting no time before your hand is securely wrapped around his length.

His angry, red tip seeps with pre cum and you use it to lather down his shaft with your palm.

“Oo-uh! Oo,” Kyle moans incoherently as you begin to pump him steadily in your hand.

“Good Kyle?” You ask, laying down on your side with your head propped on your hand, supported by your bent elbow.

“G-good,” Kyle lifts his head to watch you, his dark eyes gleaming into yours as you lower your mouth towards his leaky tip.

“Want me to take it in my mouth?” You ask softly, blowing cool air onto his wet cock.

“Y-yes, p-,” Kyle doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before you’re taking him in your mouth.

He lets out a surprised gasp and a hand flies towards your head, fingers wounding tightly in your hair. Kyle’s stomach muscles tense as the heat begins to rise, starting from where your mouth was wrapped around him.

You engulf him almost entirely in your mouth, laying your tongue flat on the underside of his shaft. Your hand wraps around his base, and with a steady start, your hand and mouth begin to work together in one synchronised motion.

Kyle lets out a soft, little whimper as you work his cock between your hand and mouth. His thighs begin to shake from under your body, and pulling your mouth away for a second, you let out a small laugh.

“Aw, your legs are trembling- does it feel that good?” Your lips form into a pout as you continue to stroke his length in a tight fist.

Kyle nods profusely, before his hand in your hair tightens, and his other grips onto the bed sheets beneath him.

“I know you wanna cum baby, cum for me,” you stick out your tongue, laying the tip against his slit, waiting for him to finish.

Kyle’s hips buckle up to meet your hand, and not without an animalistic groan, he lets go all over your tongue, some dribbling down your chin.

Your ministrations around his cock slow as you pop your tongue back into your mouth to swallow. Kyle still stares at you, his mouth agape and his forehead creased with wrinkles. He whines as you continue to play with him, leaving a few kisses on the raw tip of his cock.

“Feel better?” You ask, taking more than one glance up at his fucked out expression.

“M-mhm.”

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters requests #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #american horror story #2nd person pov #fem!reader #kyle spencer smut #kyle spencer #ahs coven #ahsfx #Ahs smut #ahs #ahs fandom #franken kyle #franken kyle Spencer #kyle spencer imagine #kyle spencer x y/n #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer x you

[lanawintersenthusiast]

new obsession: kai andersons back 😍

#american horror story #ahs fandom #*chefs kiss* #oh me oh my #ahs coven #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs freakshow #i love him #kai anderson x reader smut #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #ahs cult #ahs #ahs apocalypse #evan peters smut #evan peters #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters fanfic

[floral-and-fine]

Red Heart

Michael Langdon x fem reader

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

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