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Kinktober day 8 | Tate Langdon x Reader
Day 8: mommy kink
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: 18+, grinding, praising, slight degrading, overstimulation,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’I like when you do that.’’ 
‘’Do what?’’ 
‘’Fix my hair when it gets in my face. Run your hand down my back when I’m laying down. Make sure I ate today,’’ he explained as you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held hands on the way home, sensing his anxiety after a long day. You had a knack for knowing exactly what he needed. ‘’Take care of me.’’ 
‘’I just love you. People take care of the ones they love,’’ you said simply. 
Tate looked down at the sidewalk, his old converses suddenly very interesting to look at. ‘’I’ve never had anyone taking care of me before,’’ he admitted, feeling a lump of sadness settling in his stomach. 
His words made your heart ache. It was rare Tate would bring up his home life, preferring to escape it than bother you with his problems, but you knew Constance never really took good care of Tate — or any of her children. She was a terrible and neglectful mother, blaming the end of her acting career on him when her failure came from herself. 
You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you squeezed his hand and walked the rest of the way to your house in silence. 
*
A few days later, you were watching a movie in your bed when your phone buzzed with a message from Tate. He hadn’t been able to come over today because Constance had invited her new boyfriend for dinner and wanted everyone to be there. 
From Tate: Can I come over? I’m already outside… 
Pushing your blanket off your body, you paused your movie and went downstairs, opening the door instead of texting him back. 
You found him sitting on your porch with his hands covering his face, looking like he had been there for a few minutes. His eyes were a bit red, matching his sore-bitten lips. It was a stark contrast to the green of his sweater.
‘’I had an argument with my mom and her new toy,’’ Tate explained once he was in the comfort of your bedroom. He rubbed at his face, attempting to erase the traces of his emotions. 
You nodded, sitting on the bed beside him. ‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ 
He shook his head, not wishing to repeat what had been said. ‘’Can you just hold me? Please.’’
Without a word, you opened your arms, and Tate nestled into your embrace, giving him the love and comfort Constance failed to give her son. 
‘’Whatever has been said at that dinner, just know that your mother is wrong,’’ you spoke softly after a moment, your head resting on top of his as he held you tight. ‘’You’re loved and wanted and you didn't ruin her life, okay? Not you or Addie.’’ 
He sniffled and nodded against your chest. ‘’I love you too.’’ 
After a moment, his hold loosened, slowly calming down…and undoubtedly noticing the absence of a bra through your shirt. Lucky boy. You fought a smile, having not considered your attire when you went downstairs to get the door. 
‘’Do you feel comfortable like this?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.
Tate smiled smugly against your shirt, nodding. ‘’Very. They’re so soft and comfortable. I wish I could fall asleep like that at night.’’  
‘’Do you want me to take my shirt off?’’ you whispered, taking him by surprise. 
He nodded again, detaching himself from you so you could take off your shirt and fell back against your pillows in a more comfortable position. 
When you first suggested it, you didn’t think it would take a sexual turn, but Tate’s mouth began kissing at your breasts while his hands were massaging and kneading, fingers digging into soft flesh. God, he loved your tits. 
You would be lying if you said this wasn’t pleasurable. Tate was gentle and loving with his touches and kisses, savoring the moment. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, running through his blond strands and encouraging him to keep going. 
Then, you began feeling something press against your thigh. 
‘’Not my fault. I can’t control what my dick does.’’
You bit back a laugh. ‘’Do you want me to take care of it?’’ Your hand wandered between your bodies to rub his hardening cock over his pants. 
Tate whimpered and pushed into your touch. ‘’Please.’’ 
He lifted his head from your chest, his eyes still red but no longer teary, and you motioned to take your spot and lay against your pillows.
‘’Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,’’ you promised, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. ‘’I’m gonna make you feel so good, Tate. So good you’re gonna forget about tonight.’’
That’s exactly what he needed.
With your help, Tate discarded his pants and boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. It must not have felt good straining against his stiff jeans. 
‘’Does that feel good, baby?’’ you asked, slowly running one finger over his sensitive length, teasing him.
He nodded, a shaky breath slipping from his lips. ‘’Y-yes.’’
You did it again, this time ending your stroke by brushing your thumb over the head. 
Tate whimpered, his hips jerking upwards and causing his sweater to ride up his stomach, flashing a trail of light blond hair. You leaned down to kiss it. 
‘’Such a good boy,’’ you praised, continuing to jerk him with your delicate hand. 
You could jerk him off until he spilled, but you decided to have some fun and try something else. Withdrawing your hand, Tate started sitting up. 
‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, sounding alarmed. 
‘’I’m not going anywhere,’’ you reassured, caressing his thigh. ‘’Don’t worry.’’ 
Nodding, he settled back and watched you move, licking his lips as you removed your pajama bottoms and underwear. His deep brown eyes gave your body a look over, loving everything he was seeing. The natural fall of your breasts and the reddish-mauve mark his mouth left behind, the tiny mole right below your navel that no one but him had noticed, the scar on your calf from when you shaved and accidentally cut yourself. 
‘’You’re so pretty, Mommy. Can I have a kiss?’’ 
It was so nicely asked, you couldn’t deny him. 
You swung a leg over to straddle him, your hands rubbing his hips as his thick cock rested against his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. The sight almost made the arousal between your legs drip. Your eyes met Tate's as you rose up on your knees, but instead of sinking down on his cock, you lowered yourself on the length and grinded your slick folds along it.
He moaned from the slightest bit of friction, feeling your pussy sliding languidly along his cock.
 A smirk drew across your lips, moving torturously slow. 
Tate whimpered your name, his voice laced with frustration and desire. 
‘’What is it, baby? Is this not what you wanted?’’ you asked coyly, the sound of your arousal mixing with his pre-cum filling the room. 
You saw his eyes dart down to where your genitals were touching, rubbing together. ‘’Mommy, plea-please,’’ he whined, his cock twitching and about to burst. 
You knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him — yet. 
‘’Are you close, baby?’’ 
He closed his eyes and gripped the sheets as his stomach spasmed. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I wanna cum.’’ 
‘’Don’t hold back, baby, you can cum.’’
Ropes and ropes of white cum then spilled onto Tate's smooth stomach, his climax hitting, but you didn’t stop like he thought you would. No. You decided to push his limits and tease him until he couldn’t take it, watching his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm came again and again, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and adding to the mess. You were surprised he could still cum like that. 
‘’Can't cum anymore. So sensitive,’’ he said with tear-stained cheeks, whimpering through his orgasm and a little after it was done.
‘’You want me to stop?’’
‘’Please.’’ 
You caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears. ‘’But I haven’t put it in yet...’’
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt
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multific · 4 months
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Hail Us
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Michael Langdon x Reader
Summary: A short Christmas tale.
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You moved to your knees in front of the cross.
You prayed.
You prayed for good fortune, for health and peace.
Hail Satan.
You prayed for your husband's plans to go smoothly. You prayed for your soul to be damned along with his. 
And in return, you will continue to praise your only and true Lord, Satan.
Hail Satan.
You already gave yourself and your entire life to his son, Michael.
You did so because of love.
As simple as that was. Love.
You stood up and took another look at the upside-down cross.
With a smile on your face, you turn around only to see Michael standing behind you.
"My father must truly like you. You pray and he gives. I feel as if he likes you more than me, his son."
"He sure has a soft spot for me. But I believe it is fair. I am his daughter-in-law and I help you achieve your dreams. No need to be jealous."
"I'm more jealous that you spend time on your knees praying to my father instead of me." you smiled as you moved over to him, running your fingers down his defined cheekbones.
"I'm rather hungry, can we eat?" your distraction always worked.
Every time you were hungry, tired or thirsty, Michael was immediately on his feet, ready to help you.
Michael made sure you had the best meals.
"What did you pray for this time?" he asked during dinner.
"For him to grand my wishes. For us to be together forever. For our future to be filled with death and pain. Just like I always do." 
"You are so perfect. I still can't believe they thought you wanted to be on their side."
"My future is by your side. They were only a stepping stone for me to find you."
Michael smiled, recalling his youth and how much pain it caused him, but ever since he found you, he was more than okay.
"Merry Christmas, My Love." he raised his glass and you did the same.
"Hail Michael Langdon," you replied with a smirk.
"Hail Y/N Langdon, the bride of the Anti-Christ. The witch who's name brings fear into everyone's soul. The woman who made me into a real man, to live to my potential and be who I was always meant to be. Hail us."
"I love you so much, Michael."
"And I love you, Y/N."
The snow was falling outside as you continued your dinner.
And indeed, what a Christmas it was.
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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Tate Langdon Masterlist
I’m Still Here
NSFW Alphabet*
Dream Come True*
The Evans See Your SH Scars
How The Evans Would React If They Walked In On You Changing*
The Evans See You Having A Wet Dream About Them*
The Evans With A Photographer Boyfriend
The Evans See You Masturbating*
The Evans See You Do The Wap*
Deja Vu
The Evans Help You Through A Panic Attack
Pumped Up Kicks
Ouija Board
You Flinch During An Argument
Tate Langdon With A Nonbinary SO
I’ll Always Love You
Forever
Insomniac
manipulating tate to make him cry
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7-wonders · 1 month
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At the Edge of the Universe
Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XIV)
Summary: It’s time to meet the residents of Outpost 3 as Michael begins his interviews to see who will make it to the Sanctuary (spoiler alert: not many).
Word count: 4.1k
A note from the author: Surprise Mad Love drop! We are down to our last three or four chapters, can you believe it? I've told myself that I'm not allowed to write anything else until I finish this, so expect updates semi-frequently. Goal is to get this bad boy finished by June! As always—hope you enjoy, and remember that likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round!
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Mad Love Masterlist
This is your fourth Outpost visit, and as you look out at the small crowd of survivors gathered in the sitting room of Outpost 3, you believe that you can confidently say that every one of them looks exactly the same.
Not appearance-wise, of course. Overseers are allowed to establish their own rules for their respective Outposts, including wardrobes. Most had been pretty laidback, actually. Outpost 3 is by far the most draconian, and you’re already regretting not pushing back on Michael’s decision to have you join him as you sweat in your stiff Victorian gown.
Though outfits and rules may change, what doesn’t is the faces. Every single time, when you and Michael arrive and make your introductions, the faces of the survivors are filled with hope. The hope of new drama, the hope of continued survival, the hope of a way out of the Outpost. It’s so familiar now, and each time, it’s pained you to see. These people that the apocalypse has spared, whether due to circumstance or societal standing, have no idea that they’re just pawns in Michael’s game of chess. No, worse than pawns. They’re nothing but dolls, amusement for Michael to play with before tossing them to the side like they’re worthless.
“My name is Langdon,” Michael starts. Instead of introducing you, he looks to you to introduce yourself, and you press your lips together to keep from smirking. Oh, he’s so going to regret this.
He immediately does the moment that you introduce yourself with your first and last name. Your legal last name, the one you were born with, and not that of your infernal husband. You can feel him looking at you, surely with barely-contained rage. Instead of looking back, you simply smile warmly at the occupants of Outpost 3, waiting for Michael to get back with the program.
“We won’t sugarcoat the situation,” he says after a brief stumble. “Humanity is on the brink of failure. Our arrival here is crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth.”
There are a couple of other things that don’t change from Outpost to Outpost, you note as you watch the interaction that unfolds. The questions, for instance, are almost always the same, and almost always asked out of turn in a way that is guaranteed to infuriate Michael. What happened to everybody, what’s the Sanctuary, will some survive, etc. You clock every single question—even robot Ms. Mead’s, though that one wasn’t too surprising since you knew how she was reprogrammed—and listen as Michael gives the same answers that he always does.
Something else that doesn’t change? The abject lust displayed by a good contingent of the survivors. Michael’s a very attractive man, which you obviously know. 18 months is a long time to be surrounded by a very small amount of people day in and day out, and now that there’s fresh blood offering them a chance at salvation, they’ll do anything to convince him that they’re worthy. You frown as the survivors jockey for his attention, to be first. 
Not because you’re jealous or anything. It seems as though the only aspect of Michael’s personality that has remained untouched through his rebirth into a full-fledged Antichrist is his devotion to you. No, you frown because you know that Michael loves to use this to his advantage. After all, lust is one of the seven deadly sins.
“What was that?” Michael asks after the introduction is over and as soon as the doors close behind you in the office in which the interviews will be conducted. 
“What?” you ask coyly, playing a game of your own.
“You know what.”
“Oh, that?” Michael nods exasperatedly. “Langdon’s not my last name.”
You’re not sure if he looks more angered or bewildered, though the combination does have a pleasing shade of red creeping up his neck. “Of course it is, you’re my wife!”
“Not legally,” you retort.
“Well, we can’t exactly go to a courthouse to make it legal.”
“Hmm, maybe you should have waited for us to get to the point where I wanted to get legally married before ending the world.”
Michael’s jaw clenches, and he smirks. “Clever, though I have to say that your attitude is getting old.”
“And yours isn’t?”
You’re both breathing heavily as you glare, daring the other to continue. You fight with Michael so often now that this is a familiar dance, and you know the next move. He goes to kiss you, and though you’re certainly tempted, you put a hand up to stop him.
“No! No, we are not having sex right now.” You try to sound convincing, though you might be attempting to convince yourself more than Michael. It’s just so easy to resort to sex. It’s the one thing that you both agree on in this new world—that you’re good at having sex together. Plus, that’s one of the only times that you don’t completely hate him, and though it pains you to admit it, you look forward to those moments when you forget why you should think him a monster.
Michael raises an eyebrow. “We could, though.”
“No.” 
To drive the point home, you put as much space between you as possible and go to the desk that holds all of the files of every Outpost 3 resident. If there’s one thing that gets Michael’s mind out of the gutter, it’s talking about his magnum opus: the apocalypse.
“What’s Dinah doing here?” That had been quite the shock, to greet Outpost 3 and find yourself meeting the eyes of the (now former, you suppose) voodoo queen. Though her own had widened in a frightened recognition, she looked down at her hands and kept her gaze there for the remainder of the meeting. The man next to her, her son, was one of those who instantly fell a little bit in love with Michael.
“She bought her spot, just like all the other rich fucks.”
“So she won’t be joining us back at the Sanctuary,” you tease.
“Absolutely not, especially now that I have no use for her and her powers.” 
Ever since ending the world, Michael’s powers have blossomed into a whole different beast. He’s so powerful now that you don’t even know the extent, and you don’t think you want to. Where before, he would have needed the help of a voodoo queen or the Supreme when doing something especially complicated or out of his wheelhouse (such as enlisting Dinah’s help when you ate Satan’s poisoned apple or getting a spell from Mallory to reveal the ghost of Cordelia Goode), now, their powers would be worthless to him. You’re no expert when it comes to magic, but you think that his power must be equal to at least ten Supremes.
You certainly don’t want to test that theory.
“How many survivors will be accompanying us back to the Sanctuary, do you think?” you ask.
“Considering I’m not hopeful about interviews, there will be two. A man and a woman, both selected for their optimal genetics.” The interviews are never something to be hopeful over, because they almost always are a disappointment. In the other twelve Outposts, there have been a total of nine survivors that impressed Michael enough with interviews alone that he spared them from their original fates and gave them a spot at the Sanctuary.
“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the two that are very obviously in love with each other.”
“Which ones?”
You rifle through the folders until you find two with pictures that match who you were looking at in the library. “These two. Timothy and Emily.”
He looks up at you curiously. “How could you tell?”
“When they weren’t watching you, they were staring at each other.” 
Though the two were sat across the room from each other, their eyes were continually drawn together like magnets of differing polarities. You’re a little shocked that Michael couldn’t tell, considering his ‘night vision of the soul,’ as he calls it.
You just call it his creepy Antichrist powers.
You try not to, but you find yourself beginning to look through all of the files. They’re all fairly simple; a headshot, a bio, medical information. Really, Michael only uses them to look official and mysterious as he begins to pick their personalities apart bit by bit. For you however, they help to get to know the survivors, even just a little bit.
That’s precisely why you don’t like looking through these, why you don’t like these visits at all. Because knowing them, and knowing their ultimate fates, is something that makes you sick. Maybe that’s the price you’re forced to pay by the universe for being the Antichrist’s wife. You’re forced to be complicit in the continued mind games and eventual deaths of these people who thought that they were somehow safe after the bombs dropped.
Michael scoffs at the next file you flip open. “That’s one interview I’m dreading.”
“Her?”
“Mhm, Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt.” His words drip with disdain.
Coco…the name strikes some level of familiarity, but you can’t remember where you would have met a Coco. She didn’t look familiar when you saw her and her…interesting hair in the sitting room. She’s obviously a socialite, so maybe she was trending for some scandal or another in the Before. It’s so hard to remember that time, not only for the pain, but because it feels like an entire lifetime ago. 
(Was it really only eighteen months ago that you were preparing for graduation, scrolling through social media, and participating in regular 21st-century society?)
One person who does look familiar? The white-haired stylist whose work Coco sports and the one who claimed the first interview spot before anybody else, Mr. Gallant. You’d recognize him anywhere—his confidence in you was one of the sole reasons you had the courage to go down the stairs and join Michael for your first Cooperative function. But as for him?
“Mr. Gallant didn’t recognize us,” you broach.
“No, he wouldn’t. Those whose services are needed by the Cooperative but aren’t trusted enough to keep their mouths shut are…conditioned to forget.”
“You brainwash them,” you clarify.
“I don’t.” His lips twitch at his own joke. Of course, he doesn’t. That would be getting his hands dirty, which he hates doing, especially now that he has all the resources in the (under)world at his disposal.
“My bad.”
“You’re so interested in this group of survivors. Does that mean you’ll be joining me for interviews?”
When you joined Michael for the first time, at Outpost 6, you said yes when he asked you this question. It was something different, after all, and you were at first interested in being a part of the process and getting to know some new survivors. Of course, this was all before you actually sat in on the first couple of interviews and witnessed Michael’s interview ‘style’ firsthand.
You roll your eyes. “Ugh, no. I hate all the weird sexual tension you have with everyone you interview.”
Naturally, Michael gets the wrong idea and thinks that you’re jealous. He places his hands on the arms of your chair, and leans in until he can meet your eyes. “You’re my one and only, you know that.”
“I do.” You stare back at him unflinchingly. “Doesn’t mean I like it.”
“The sexual tension or that you’re my soulmate?” You simply raise an eyebrow in response, and Michael sighs before straightening up. “Well, a Gray should be arriving at any moment with Mr. Gallant, so if you don’t want to see any ‘weird sexual tension,’ I would suggest leaving now.” 
“Alright then, guess I’ll give myself a tour around ol’ Hawthorne.”
Michael pouts. “I was planning on taking you around tonight after Venable’s curfew.”
“Oh, that sucks. Have fun.” You give him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you leave the room.
Outpost 3 isn’t the largest Outpost you’ve visited, but it’s still pretty expansive. In most cases, this would mean lots of exploring to do. Unfortunately, it seems that Ms. Venable has stripped this place of anything that would make it unique. Hall after hall looks exactly the same in a way that would be disorienting if you weren’t keeping track of your whereabouts. The same boring, gray walls, the same black doors, the same frightened Grays scurrying around.
(If you had to pick the worst part about this Outpost so early on, you’d have to go with the forced servitude of some of the survivors here. Most of the other Outposts had a glorified chore chart that distributed tasks equally among survivors. Others had special privileges given to those who volunteered to work. This system? Well, this system has you hoping that Michael’s especially tough on Ms. Venable during her interview.)
After coming to the unfortunate conclusion that this is about as interesting as it’s going to get for you, you make your way back to where it all started: the library. This room at least has some character, between the fireplace and the music playing. Yes, it might be the same song on repeat, played on a vintage radio, but at least it’s something. 
As it turns out, you won’t be alone. The two that you had noticed earlier, the ones that couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other, are holding hands and whispering to each other on the couch. They spring apart when you enter, and it’s obvious that they’re not expecting anybody to see them. Their attitude, and the way they’re trying to play it off like they weren’t conspiring, gives you pause. What other severe rules has Ms. Venable imposed on those under her care?
“Hello,” you smile at the two warmly in between appraising the titles on the shelves. “Timothy and Emily, right? It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Timothy says warily.
Emily, who doesn’t have that same tact, immediately gets to her question. “Are you here to interview us?”
You shake your head. “No, I let Langdon do the interviewing.”
“So…what do you want with us?”
“I don’t want anything with you. I am trying to find some entertainment, because this place is already incredibly boring and I’ve barely been here six hours.”
Timothy laughs. “Yeah, that doesn’t really get better.”
They watch as you continue to peruse the books, waiting to see if this is some sort of trap devised by you and Michael. It’s not—you genuinely just want to find a book you haven’t read yet and escape to your bedroom for a few quiet hours. Unfortunately, nothing is modern here, not even the books, and you end up settling on Frankenstein, which you’ve read a couple of times now. 
“Is it alright if we ask you a couple of questions?” Timothy asks when you turn back around.
So much for a quiet few hours.
You sigh and sit down on the couch opposite the pair. “I can’t guarantee that I can answer all of them, but I’ll certainly try.”
“What’s it like out there?” Timothy asks the question, but both his and Emily’s eyes shine, desperate for any sort of news about the world outside the walls of Outpost 3. You wish you had better to share with them.
“Lawless. You remember the movies about the apocalypse?” They nod. “It’s worse than that. The world is completely unrecognizable, decimated by the bombs. If it weren’t for a map, I wouldn’t even know where we are. Those who survived the blast have been affected by the radiation from the fallout in the most terrible of ways. They have…sores and growths and cancer, all over their bodies. People kill each other for the smallest scrap of clothing. I’ve seen cannibals picking clean the bones of someone they once traveled with, someone that was once their friend.”
“My god,” Emily mutters.
“When M-–Langdon traveled to Outpost 2, his carriage was almost overrun by a band of survivors. They believed there was food inside, and even if there wasn’t, they wanted the chance to hurt somebody that hadn’t yet been hurt by nuclear fallout.” 
That had been a terrifying ordeal to hear Michael recount. He wasn’t scared at all, knowing both that the radiation couldn’t hurt him and that he could (did) kill all of them with the snap of his fingers. But you were, for the simple fact that the world that you had once lived in was completely gone and replaced by one where people hunted each other out of necessity, because it might be the only true meal they could eat in weeks.
“How did he get out of it?” Timothy wonders.
The true answer obviously isn’t something that you’re able to share, so you instead go with what would have been the answer if it were any other member of the Cooperative in the carriage. “The bodies of the carriage have an electric current that can be activated in case of emergency. The attackers were all electrocuted with the push of a button.”
“Langdon mentioned a Sanctuary,” Emily says. “Is that where you live?”
“We both do.”
“What’s it like?” Timothy asks, while at the same time, Emily questions, “Where is it?”
“The Sanctuary is…well, it feels like the world never ended, that it just moved underground. As for the location, I’m afraid that’s classified.” You smile sympathetically, feeling a lot like Michael.
Now that this line of communication has been established, that Emily and Timothy now feel like they can trust you, you can practically see the plethora of questions that they want to ask.
“So how do you end up working for an organization like the Cooperative?”
Now that’s a question you haven’t been asked before. “It’s kind of a long story,” you say with an awkward laugh, wracking your brain to come up with a lie convincing enough that they believe it.
Before you can, the sound of a cane clicking slowly across the floor stops you. You look in the direction of the entryway, where none other than your dour host stands. Her bright orange hair stands in stark contrast to the rest of her outfit, black like yours. She smiles at you with darkly painted lips, but it’s a smile that holds absolutely no warmth.
“Dinner is served,” she announces.
The three of you stand, but only two start to follow Ms. Venable to the kitchen. “I’ll take my leave, then,” you say.
“You won’t be joining us?” She sounds a tad incredulous, as though nobody’s told her no in quite some time. That’s likely the case.
“The Cooperative supplies us with rations of our own, so as not to take from the Outposts’ stockpiles.”
It’s technically true. Michael would rather starve than eat the gelatinous cubes that constitute nutrition, and thanks to the endless powers he’s gifted with, meals remain the same as they are when at the Sanctuary.
“We shall see you tomorrow, then.”
You nod before smiling at Emily and Timothy. “It was nice talking to you.”
As you walk towards the office, you can already hear Venable questioning what it was that you talked about, trying to determine if the two gained an edge on making it to the Sanctuary. If only she knew that they’re practically guaranteed spots, you think with a quiet laugh.
Michael arrives at the office at the same time as you do, which is odd, considering he’s meant to be inside the office conducting his interviews. He takes your hand and kisses the back of it gently before opening the doors and leading you in.
“Where were you?” you ask.
He waves a hand and the doors close behind you. “Finishing up an interview.”
“Doing a little field work?”
“Something like that. Now, I’m starving, and I would very much like to enjoy dinner with some good company.”
At first, you felt a little bad eating your favorite foods while the rest of the inhabitants were forced to eat what was left of their rations. Why should you enjoy while they suffer? And then, you met the survivors, most of whom were filthy rich, and you felt okay with it.
Now, as you sit across from Michael enjoying an actual meal, you allow yourself to pretend for a little bit that your life is still as it was before the end. That this is a regular day after classes, and you’re eating a quick meal and enjoying the company of the man you love before you’re off to finish homework, go to an activity, or just hang out with friends. You miss the simplicity that you didn’t know you had, even still after eighteen months.
“How were your interviews?” you ask, trying to bask in that normalcy for as long as you can.
“Nothing to write home about, though I did learn that Ms. Venable is…shockingly self-conscious beneath her hard exterior.”
You scoff. “And that’s surprising to you?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“I talked with Emily and Timothy,” you mention.
“Please tell me they’re not as vapid as the rest of the inhabitants of this Outpost.”
“No, they’re…actually kinda cool.”
If you’re being honest with yourself, the reason that you immediately liked them so much is because they kind of remind you of you and Michael, before the apocalypse. They’re so in love with each other, so eager to just be near one another and enjoy their presence. It brings you back to New Orleans, walking through the market arm in arm as you searched for the perfect gift for Kate and he eagerly shared what he had learned when looking up grad schools for you. What you wouldn’t give to be showing him how to catch fireflies, or enjoying a sugary treat together.
Shouting sounds from downstairs, a loud argument starting to take place and distracting you from your thoughts. While you strain to try and hear what’s being yelled about, Michael simply smirks. “Took them long enough.”
Neither of you is surprised, because this is what always happens when Michael arrives at an Outpost. He, quite literally, brings Hell with him. It’s an interesting side effect of what happens when an Antichrist inhabits your space. Those walls that people put up, the rules that they live their lives by, crumble when the living embodiment of sin walks in. From there, it’s only a matter of time until everything unravels and they begin giving in to those seven deadly sins. As you listen to wrath begin to cloud minds, you can practically see Michael becoming more powerful thanks to it.
Later, wrath continues, along with a side of lust.
High-pitched shrieking, so different from the argumentative yelling of earlier, wakes you from the dozing you had taken to while trying to read Michael’s interview reports after dinner. You scramble to sit up in your chair, looking at Michael with wide eyes.
“What was that?” you ask.
He doesn’t even tear his eyes away from the computer to look at you, simply waving a hand nonchalantly. “Oh, Timothy and Emily have just been caught having sex. They’re about to be executed.”
“What?” You stand up in alarm, sure that this is actual cause for alarm. Michael, on the other hand, doesn’t even react to your reaction. “Michael!” you snap, desperately wanting him to show some kind of humanity.
Finally, he turns around in his chair and sighs as though you’re interrupting your work, which you know for a fact you’re not. “Yes?”
“We can’t let them die.”
“We won’t.”
You look at him in disbelief, because it sure looks like he’s going to let them die. “Then why aren’t you stopping this?”
Michael finally joins you in standing, taking your hands in his and squeezing reassuringly. “It’s sweet of you to worry about them, and I promise you that they will not die before reaching the Sanctuary. I’ll stop this when the time is right. First, however,” he smiles, “I’d like to enjoy their terror for a bit.”
“Every time I think you can’t possibly let me down more than you already have, you prove me wrong.” 
Michael’s face falls at the barb that hits unexpectedly deep, but you don’t have it in you to claim any sort of victory in this. Anger, that heady emotion that’s fueled you up until now, has completely left you at this latest example of Michael’s lack of humanity. All that remains now is disappointment, and it’s a disappointment that leaves you tired. Tired of these games, tired of the life that you’ve found yourself in, tired of being able to do nothing but watch.
Except, you can do something this time. In this Outpost, you have the same amount of power as Michael. With that in mind, you pull your hands free and make for the door.
“C’mon, where are you going?” Michael calls after you.
You don’t answer him, because he knows as well as you. If he won’t put a stop to this, then you will.
///
Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @aftertheglitterfades @iamlivingforturner @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angistopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff
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lostgirlfandom · 1 year
Text
Reunited
Pairing: Michael Langdon x Female!Reader
Warnings: mentions of an apocalypse, afab reader
Words: 1.1k
Summery: Michael finds his Queen in the last place he expected.
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Sitting in the office with a soft orange glow to the room from the fire place and candles spread throughout the room, your hands sat in your lap with your finger pads rubbing together in an anxious tick. Your eyes flicked from the man sitting at the desk, to the fire, to the candles... anywhere but at the man whose aura stunk of power and intimidation. His mid-back length golden hair looked like silk and made your hands want to run through the tresses, which is why you were trying to keep your hands busy. His sharp stare never left your form as he examined you... your hair down your face, lips twitching as he watched your eyes flick anxiously around the room. His eyes left a hot flush down your body as he kept watching you.  
After a thick silence befell the room for close to ten minutes, he broke the silence. “Y/N Y/L/N...” his smooth voice spoke surely and softly into the room. Sounding like butter as he spoke your name.  
You took in a slow breath as you looked up and finally locked eyes with him. He noticed your eyes dilate as you focused on his eyes... his beautiful eyes that made you melt and become submissive.  
Feeling your throat become dry, you blinked and swallowed the saliva in your mouth before licking your lips. “Yes, sir” You gave a delicate whisper.  
His lips twitched in a smirk as he tilted his head at you. “Why are you here?” He asked you. Leaned back in his desk chair, his arms on the arm rests as one arm lifted to place a hand to his face. His rings glinting in the fire light.  
Blinking again, you snapped out of the daze you were in and looked back down at your hands. Your hands grasped the purple dress you were basically forced to where for the last 18 months at the Outpost. “I...” You paused to take a deep breath. “I was told that I was chosen because of my DNA... that I had special genetics or something of similar nature.”  
The tone of your voice told anyone that was paying attention that you didn’t believe a word you just said. Langdon’s brow frowned as he observed you. Not that you noticed as your gaze was still on your lap. Your body language went from behind nervous and anxious to a little depressive but accepting.  
“You don’t think so?” He asked as his gaze stuck to your body.  
Your brow frowned and lips pursed before speaking. “I don’t know why I’m here to be honest, Mr. Langdon.” You took a small glance from under your eyelashes to look at him. “I had average grades in school, was working at Walmart before this shitstorm while getting an associate's degree. I’m not..” You took a deep breath and corrected yourself. “I wasn’t rich or poor...”
You paused as you examined his face as you slowly lifted your head. He licked his lips and then sighed. “Like Timothy and Emily, you were picked specifically for your DNA and good genetics... None of that stuff matters anymore... You are here because I hand-picked you and several others because you had prime genetics to survive. You were never sick growing up, were you?”
Tilting your head, you nodded. “Mom always said I-”
“Had a perfect immune system.” You both spoke at the same time. He nodded with a grin.  
“Exactly... And I think I picked you for good reason.” He left the comment hang in the air as he held your gaze, making your body flush. Twisting the fabric of the dress in your hands, you couldn’t look away from his eyes.  
“I-I-I" You slightly stuttered before biting your lip and looking into the fire.  
In a split second, you felt hands fall over yours. You’re head quickly turned and saw Langdon knelt in front of you, his hands softly pulling yours from the dress. The heat from his hands was soothing and calming. His fingers caressed your hands and fingers as you locked gazes with him again. A soft smile sat on his lips as he gazed up into your eyes. Flicking his eyes between both of yours, bringing your hands to his mouth slowly and gently. Pressing your knuckles to his lips.  
“You are here because I wanted you alive... Ms. Y/L/N.” His right-hand lifted to caress your neck with his thumb on your jaw, rubbing it gently.  
Your lips parted softly as your eyes because entranced with him again. You didn’t notice the fact that he was in front of you in seconds... or the fact that he was leaning up slowly... But you did notice his eyes that glinted and shined with adoration and glee towards you.  
Involuntarily, your eyes closed when his did and your lips met his. You took in a sharp breath at the feeling of his soft lips brushing yours, a tingling spreading down your spine causing goosebumps over your skin.  
Then images... no memories flashed through your mind.  
Memories of Langdon... Michael. How you first met, the time you spent together, the Black Mass, the time you first kissed and made love, the I love you’s. The fight between him and witches, them taking you away.
Coming back to your senses, you pressed back against him and cup the sides of his neck to kiss him desperately. Passionately, your lips danced with his. Pouring all the love you had for him into the kiss, him doing the same. Feeling the difference from moments before, joy spread through his chest. You both now feeling your hearts feeling full now... beating at the same time and swelling with love for each other.  
Breaking apart, you pressed your forehead to his and opened your eyes at the same time as him. Staring into his eyes, you felt your eyes well up with tears as you whispered out with broken words. “Michael.”
His own eyes welled up as his jaw clenched up. “Y/N... My Queen.” He gave a husky gasp before smiling widely. “This time... you’re not leaving my side.” Speaking with convection, he stood up and pulled you with him.  
You smirked at him. “Never, My King.”
Wrapping his arms around your waist while your hands went to wrap around his neck and play with hair just at the base of his scalp. “This time the witches die... at both our hands.” He smirked at you, seeing your eyes flash with fire.  
“No hesitation.” You whispered out before pulling him to press your lips to his hungrily. His grip tightening on your sides as he kissed back, devouring your moans as your tongues entangled.  
Neither of you noticed the candles and fire rising at the joint power of King and Queen of the Underworld finally reunited.  
868 notes · View notes
stayevildarling · 6 days
Note
could you do a hurt-comfort fic w either:
lou x tammy x reader
orrrrr
wilhemina x regina mills x reader pleaseee
Wilhemina Venable x Regina Mills x Reader- Burying our memories (AU)
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A/N: I think this is absolutely not what you expected with this request dear anon. However the first thing I thought of was an AU with dark Mina x the evil Queen so I hope nevertheless you enjoy this <3 For anyone who has watched ouat please ignore how I altered the curse and changed the story
tw: dark mina, evil queen, cursing, degrading, blood, pain, angst, hurt
word count: 7k
taglist:
@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime
The dense greenery of the enchanted forest sways gentle in the cool breeze, casting shifting patterns of shadow and light upon the forest floor. With swift motions, you run through the tangled undergrowths, your breathing coming in ragged gasps as you glance over your shoulders, trying to see if they had gone, if you were safe.
Moments before, your day looked like it usually did, as you found yourself in the heart of the village, your heart heavy with the weight of injustice. The villagers lacking the most basic things including food, water and supplies to survive, due to the Queen's oppressive rules. And somehow over the years, after slowly losing your family and purpose altogether, you turned out to be an aid for the poor lost souls in the forest and village, their silent pleas echoing in the depths of your soul.
Somehow you had turned into your own version of a Robin Hood, wanting to help out, regularly crossing boundaries and stealing from the Queen's garden and palace grounds in order to provide for them, rid them of the poverty and pain they had endured for years now. And somehow, today you had been careless, not caring about the sound of alarms piercing through the stillness of the night. The queen's guards descended upon the village with ruthless efficiency, riding their horses, their gleaming armour announcing their presences further.
And now as you attempt fleeing through the labyrinth of the forest, trying to reach your sanctuary hidden deeply inside the forest, the branches tear at your clothes, the thorns pricking your skin and causing for blood to run down your arms and legs, leaving a crimson reminder of your foolishness before. Fear and desperation mingles in your veins as you push and push forward, occasionally glancing behind your shoulder to reassure that you would manage to lose them again, just like you had done many times. And if you were in a clear state of mind, you would have noticed that you took a wrong turn, ignoring the wanted poster with both your face on it, among other faces, like Snow White, all enemies to the queen who had been on her wanted list for quite some time now.
With a loud thud, you feel yourself losing your balance as you must have bumped into something, feeling a warm sensation before hitting your head on a nearby branch. It takes a little while for your vision to clear, before you find yourself face-to-face with a woman cloaked in darkness, her sharp features illuminated by a flickering lantern. Through a teary vision, due to the pain piercing through your body, you notice dark red hair styled in a sharp quiff, a shade of very dark purple, almost black coating her body. There's a calculating gleam in her eyes, as she finds you pathetically whimpering on the floor, her lips curled into a smirk.
,,Well well'' she remarks, her voice hushed ,,You seem to have gotten yourself into quite a predicament, running from the queens guards I presume?'' she questions and if it wasn't for the pain, you would have noticed the odd sense of familiarity you seem to feel and how you almost would have recognised her. Your heart pounds in your chest, torn between fleeing, the sound of shouting guards and horses still lingering in the air. But there was something about the woman's demeanour that stops you, a sense of intrigue mixed with caution.
Before you can respond, the older woman bends a little to place the lantern on the floor, the bright sensation causing you to close your eyes only momentarily. As you open them again, you watch as she balances on a cane before extending a gloved hand, offering assistance. ,,Come with me'' she offers, her tone surprisingly gentle. ,,I can offer you refuge, but you must trust me''.
Despite the feeling of doom and danger, you see a glimmer of hope in her offer, and so with a silent nod, you accept her outstretched hand, allowing her to lead you deeper into the shadowy depths of the enchanted forest. And it takes several minutes, for the pain to stop throbbing, the blood from your earlier wounds to stop pouring, until you can collect your thoughts. And as you walk behind her, following the sound of her cane and the light source provided by the small lantern she carries, something about the way she walked alarms you. And then it finally dawns on you, finding the familiar trees with carvings on them, where she was leading you, your secret path to the palace that you would often use in order to sneak to the grounds to steal in order to provide for the poor souls of the village.
And then at last it dawns on you who was walking in front of you, who's assistance you agreed upon. You didn't know her name, you had heard it plenty of times but you couldn't recall it, only remembering how she was the assistant to the wicked queen, the people in the village often mentioning her, how she never spoke much but was always by her side. As the forest echos with whispers of secrets, yet to be revealed, panic shoots through your veins, glancing around you to think of a quick escape and as you stop walking, you are quick to turn around, trying pathetically to begin running, however your legs give in as you feel a sharp pain, before everything goes black, having calculated your steps wrong, having put your trust in the wrong hands as the woman never had the intention of helping you, knowing you had been searched and chased for the longest time.
While you battle through unconsciousness, the woman had already alerted the same guards that had chased you before, who carried you inside the palace, the place that you had feared for years. And as the woman returns to the queens chambers in the middle of the night, not disturbing much sleep as her majesty had been awake, pacing back and forth contemplating her next steps and the secret curse she had been planning on casting for years, almost on the verge of completing it, finally having all the necessary ingredients, her peace is interrupted. ,,Busy'' she snarls as she is lost in her pacing, unaware who is standing in front of her.
,,Something demands your attention in the dungeons, your majesty'' the redhead woman announces, causing for the brunette to turn around, as her eyes sparkle with curiosity. And as her curiosity gets ahold of her, she brushes past her most loyal assistant yet, the sound of the queens heels and the other woman's cane echoing through the castle as they pass countless guards. And at last they make it to the dungeons, watching your almost lifeless frame on the floor, in restraints. ,,Well well'' the queen chuckles lowly, glancing at the other woman with a hint of excitement in her brown eyes. ,,Was she caught stealing my apples again?'' she chuckles as she approaches you a little closer.
,,No your majesty, I found her in the woods'' the other woman announces, causing for the queens head to snap in her direction, as she bites her lip in anticipation, almost a hint of lust in her eyes. As you slowly wake up, despite your body screaming in pain, you open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the woman who you had feared for the longest time, accompanied by the woman you had wrongly put your trust into hours before. ,,You lied to me'' you scream, struggling through the restrains as anger flashes in your eyes. The Queen simply chuckles lowly, seeing your pathetic attempts to regain your freedom. ,,My dear, you have no idea who this is do you?'' the queen remarks, causing you to avert your gaze in frustration. ,,This my dear is Wilhemina Venable, my most loyal companion'' she begins, her hand wandering to the redheads cheek, squeezing it a little, her eyes sparkling with pride for how she had managed to capture you after her countless failed attempts in the past.
And despite the circumstances, your eyes betray you as you watch the scene unfold before you, for the first time really getting a glimpse of both women. And you couldn't deny how utterly beautiful they were, at least from the outside, both their hair styled sharply, exposing their faces plastered in dark makeup, the same brown eyes despite the different shades. The queen was wearing one of her usual dresses, black this time, plastered in diamonds and jewels, Wilhemina dressed entirely in a dark shade of purple. While the queen is busy with admiring the other woman, feeling drawn to her for capturing you, you watch as the redheads brown eyes travel towards you, almost a sign of pity in them before she speaks again.
,,What are you planning on doing with her your majesty?'' causing for the queen to chuckle, and you knew what this meant as you had always been running from death, knowing you had deserved it for stealing and running from her for years. Closing your eyes, you wait for what awaits, waiting for her to open the bars, approach and rip out your heart, as you had watched her do it to innocent people many times. However to your surprise she begins pacing a little, thinking about what to do with you. ,,I think we'll keep her'' she announces with a chuckle, and as you open your eyes you notice the confusion in the redheads features.
,,Where she comes from my dear, people bathe in the river and use pinecones for money'' she exclaims, her eyes piercing right through you. ,,I think she can be of great assistance, considering she knows the village and forest so well'' she carries on, Wilhemina simply nodding, trying to avert your eyes. ,,She would make an excellent pet'' is the last thing her majesty says before leaving, leaving behind a very puzzled and confused Wilhemina. She looks at you one more time before following, leaving behind an ever confused you. ,,Pet?'' you think to yourself, trying to pinch yourself to see if this was all just a dream or if maybe you had already died a while ago.
The remainder of the night is spent in the eery dungeons, the restraints keeping you from moving all that much and so the only thing you can do is try and relax as much as the situation allows you, leaning your head against the cold and damp wall behind you, trying to calm the raging storm of thoughts. Eventually sleep finds you, despite it being broken as the castle was considerably loud, even in the night and sometimes you thought you heard screams from the lost souls that had found their ending in the same dungeons you are sitting in. The next morning, you are awoken by one of the guards, as he undoes your restraints, pulling you up by your arms and forcing your shaky legs to follow him as he takes you towards her majesty.
With heavy eyes from the remaining pain lingering on your body and lack of comfortable sleep, you blink a few times as he lets go of you, dropping to your knees in the process. And as you glance around, you notice an unfamiliar room, filled with fancy mirrors, a balcony overlooking the palace grounds, a large dining table and fireplace to the side. And you also notice the same two familiar faces that you had last seen last night, Wilhemina sitting in one of the armchairs by the lit fireplace, her cane resting beside her, the same shade of dark purple but a different outfit. And in front of you, you find her majesty, wearing a red dress, her hair down and despite it all looking beautiful, yet intimidating.
For some reason, you feel the urge to stand up and so with all the strength left you balance and face her as she takes slow and calculated steps around you, walking in a little circle, occasionally glancing at the other woman in the room before speaking. ,,Now now, what are we going to do with you, pet?'' she questions with a little chuckle and it causes you to gulp, wondering just why she hadn't killed you yet, considering all the wanted posters and the hatred you knew she felt towards you for your actions.
The room fills with silence before a low chuckle ripples through it, this time not from the queen but her loyal companion. ,,We can have her for supper can't we dear?''. And again they have you gulping and you could easily try to make an escape, the guards having disappeared now, despite expecting them outside this room. But your curiosity keeps you on your shaky legs, glancing at the older woman who continues circling you like prey. ,,No, no'' she tuts, shaking her head a little ,,We can't waste such a beautiful little thing, now can we?'' her voice sounds almost mocking and you have no idea whether she was being genuine or not.
Silence stretches on, before an idea pops into your mind, knowing what her majesty desired and considering she hadn't killed you yet, maybe you could truly be of assistance to her and her companion, maybe just maybe you could even continue to do what you had been doing, helping out the villagers if you played your cards right. ,,Your majesty?'' you try and her head snaps towards you, eyebrows raised as she never expected one of her prisoners to speak to her like this, adress her in the correct way, other than if she was about to take their life. ,,Yes?'' she questions curiously, her eyebrow remaining raised. You clear your throat before speaking again ,,You are trying to look for Snow White correct?'' you speak carefully, knowing this subject was more than a little touchy to her.
,,Yes, do continue'' she ushers, as her eyes lock with yours. ,,I am not the biggest fan of her either your majesty, perhaps I could be of assistance to help you find her?'' While Wilhemina chuckles, the brunette walks away sighing before she turns to you again, her eyes overtaken by anger. ,,Did she also get the one you loved most in this world killed?'' her voice is filled with venom, though her eyes filled with pain. Wilhemina averts her gaze, knowing Regina for a very long time now and knowing how much that had changed her. ,,No, of course not, I'm sorry your majesty'' you begin speaking again before adding ,,But we have met briefly and I can help you find her'' you try again.
This time the redhead woman stands up, her cane echoing through the room before she halts right in front of you, her dark brown eyes piercing through you. ,,We have our own spies in the village, what makes you think you can find her?'' she spits, almost feeling pitty at your pathetic attempt. ,,Well Ms Venable, you also have tried to find me for years and I know what it's like... to run, you know?''. Her eyebrows raise in the same way the queens had moments before, admiring how polite you are, admiring your manners despite it all and being able to tell that you didn't do any of this to be spared as she is utterly aware you could have tried to make an escape by now or even simply accept your fate.
,,If you don't like that, perhaps I could be of assistance with your gardens your majesty'' you try next, trying to think of anything to make yourself useful to them, while still seeing some of your own gain and advantage. The queen smiles then before turning serious ,,You mean those same gardens you have stolen from many times?'' she scoffs, glancing at Wilhemina who remains in front of you, her presence intimidating. ,,It's just I couldn't help but notice how some of the fruit didn't exactly look too healthy your majesty and your stunning castle, deserves a worthy garden'' you finish your proposal, assuming that she would kill you next or send you back to the dungeons.
,,Guard'' she shouts and as he enters hastily, you close your eyes, awaiting your fate. ,,Get me the gardener now'' she shouts and as he practically runs away, Wilhemina's eyes widen as she turns her head to face the queen, surprised she would listen to you, especially the possibility of agreeing as she knows exactly what is about to happen. A little while later a middle aged man enters the room, almost tripping over his feet, clearly intimidated by the presence. ,,I hear you haven't been taking care of my gardens the way you are meant to'' she tuts, and with a swift motion, before he even gets the chance to explain himself, she has him on the floor, with a flick of her wrist his neck snapped, moments later the guards carrying his lifeless body from the floor a few steps away from you.
All you can do is freeze, feeling terrible that this was the result of your words, not thinking about the consequences your proposal held for the innocent man. And despite feeling like screaming, you stay still, not daring to look up at either of them right now, the realisation slowly sinking in that this wasn't good, that you are trapped by a deranged witch and her odd companion. ,,Fine'' she finally speaks again ,,You can look after the gardens and you may be free to go to the village whenever you please and provide me with information on Snow White'' the queen speaks, before she approaches you. As you look up, you watch as she brushes past Wilhemina before taking your cheeks into her hand and squeezing them ,,But if you think for one second you can escape and not return, you are mistaken'' she warns and as your eyes lock with hers, you can't help and fight the tears beginning to swell in them. ,,Yes your majesty'' you agree with shaky breaths, before she releases you from her tight grasp.
,,Guard'' she shouts again, the same guard entering hastily yet again. ,,Take Y/N to a room, she will be overlooking the gardens and feed us information on snow white'' she explains, before he nods ,,Yes your majesty'' he speaks before he ushers you to follow him. And you do, not once looking back, your feet still shaky from the interaction that had unfolded. The walk feels like it lasts a lifetime, until he finally leads you to a door, opening it and ushering you to go inside. It wasn't nice in the slightest, a lot of dirt, spider webs, barely even a window but there was a little table and chair, a bed even and it connected to what you assume to be a small bathroom. And despite it giving you dungeon vibes all over again, at least you wouldn't be restrained any longer, regaining a small sense of your freedom. He leaves moments later, and you can't help but collapse onto the bed, it really wasn't much of a bed, more of a mattress but nevertheless, you close your eyes as sleep finally washes over your tired body and aching bones.
The next time your eyes force open, it's a few hours later and as you glance around the small room, you find some things that had been left on the small table. As your curiosity gets ahold of you, you find a few sets of clothes, a washcloth and even some papers and pens and despite unsure who had left it there, you appreciate it. Moments later you finally rid your body from the dirt and blood that the last two days had left on you, putting on some of the clothes and leaving your room. It takes you several minutes to find a guard, asking if he could point you in the direction of the gardens and hesitantly he does, leading you to what you assume to be the old gardeners shed as you find all the necessary tools and so without thinking about it, you get to work, watering the bushes, trimming some of them to get them into perfect shape, nurturing some of the fruits and vegetables and correcting any mistakes that the previous gardener had made, for whatever reason taking this task quite seriously.
It's dark as you eventually return inside, quickly having the hang of it by now and finding your room, finding a meal on your table and despite again unsure who had left it, feeling grateful as you hadn't realised until now how much you had been starving. After finishing your meal, you change your clothes again, washing the now dirty ones from working in the gardens all day, before sitting on your bed crossed leg, trying to figure out what to do as beside the day light, you had lost all sense of time a little bit. And so the only thing you can do is reach for the pen and papers, writing down the events from the past few days, sketching a little as well as it always had been your passion, unsure why but it really being the only thing you could do and several hours later passing out on your bed as sleep washes over you.
The next day, you find yourself doing the same things, her gardens were huge and as her majesty overlooks them, finding you working as you kneel on the floor, planting some flowers, she can't help but watch carefully, something about you utterly intriguing. You lose yourself in your task, unaware of who was watching before a presence startles you, causing you to drop your tools clumsily. You watch as Ms Venable circles around you, carefully observing without speaking a single word and it for sure intimidates you, having her observing and careful eyes on you. ,,You seem good at this'' she states, noticing how all the bushes and hedges had the exact same length and a part of her confused as to how you had managed that. ,,Thank you Ms Venable'' you almost whisper, after the last encounter quite terrified of them both and she can tell. ,,Have you managed to gather any information yet?'' she questions curiously and you gulp then before looking up at her as you still kneel on the floor.
,,Not yet, I was wondering whether I may be allowed to leave this afternoon to try and I was wondering whether I would be allowed to collect some seeds?'' you ask, your voice shaky. ,,Seeds?'' she chuckles then, almost mocking your words. ,,Yes Ms to plant some more vegetables and fruit and flowers you see'' you try your best to convince her. ,,I'm sure her majesty doesn't mind, as long as you return in the evening and report back to us'' she almost scolds, her features turning more serious and stern. ,,Of course Ms Venable, thank you'' is all you reply with a small smile, unsure why you had smiled in the first place but it somehow came natural. And before you know it she leaves, her cane echoing with each step before it stops altogether as she reaches the palace again.
Several hours later, you finally make your way to the village, using your secret path through the forest, stopping briefly by your hide out and gathering some of your things, putting them all in a small bag and changing into one of your usual outfits, feeling much more comfortable that way. You opted for one of your beige ones, leather trousers, boots and a vest, a shoulder bag with your belongings. On the way to the village, you had also collected some seeds, hoping if you worked briefly and hard on the gardens, you could still provide the village with food, hoping that you could somehow stuff it in your bags so no one would notice. And as you finally make it to the village, you are met with the usual families, the children greeting you excitedly as they knew you always brought them things but today you unfortunately come empty handed. ,,We haven't seen you for a couple of days'' one of the villagers exclaims, scanning your features and noticing some cuts and bruises on your face. ,,Brief encounter with some guards'' you chuckle, not wanting to go into too much detail. ,,I don't have anything today unfortunately but I should soon'' you exclaim, however you are met with compassion and understanding.
,,Have either of you heard anything about Snow White lately?'' you ask the group of villagers, before most of them shake their head. ,,I believe she has last been seen up north, by the rivers'' one of them exclaims and you simply nod, appreciating their honesty, despite feeling terrible considering what game you are playing. Noticing the beginning dawn, the sun beginning to set, you opt to return to the palace, knowing you would never be able to make the journey up north within the next few hours. And it doesn't take long until you find yourself in front of the familiar back door, some guards already awaiting you. ,,Your majesty wants to see you'' he explains before you gulp and follow him.
He guides you back into the room you had been in before, the two of them sitting by the fireplace, before you stand awkwardly, feeling as if you are interrupting their peace. ,,Tell me, any information?'' the queen questions before she stands up and walks over to you. ,,Yes your majesty, apparently up north by the river'' you explain before she signals to the guard who remained standing there before he leaves at her instructions. ,,I would have checked the information for myself but I know I needed to return tonight'' you explain yourself and she simply furrows her eyebrows before scanning you, noticing the outfit change and the bag. ,,Well well, did our little pet make a stop somewhere?'' she asks, glancing at Wilhemina who simply watches with a chuckle. The brunette is quick to take the bag from you, her eyes glancing through the contents of it, noticing some seed pouches and chuckling as the redhead had filled her in on your earlier request. ,,What is this?'' she questions, holding up your notebook.
,,My notebook your majesty'' you exclaim, averting her gaze as your cheeks grow red a little. She skips through the pages, impressed with the several sketches, some from the villages, some from the forest and even one of her castle. She slides it back into your bag, before walking back over to her armchair, leaving you confused and stranded, unsure what to do next. ,,I feel like some tea, you dear?'' the queen announces and you aren't sure whether to leave them to it or whether they still needed you. ,,Of course'' the redhead begins, reaching for her cane but the queen stops her by waving her hand. ,,No no'' she tuts ,,We have a pet now remember dear'' she instructs and Wilhemina simply chuckles before they both look at you. You glance around the room, unsure where you are supposed to get tea from, however the redhead glances towards a backdoor behind the dining table and you nod gratefully before quickly walking through the door, finding a small tea kitchen there.
And so it doesn't take long before you enter the room again, carrying a little tray, before approaching them, with shaking hands placing it in front of them. ,,Anything else I can get you?'' you ask almost obediently and if you would have looked, you would have noticed the sparkle in Wilhemina's eyes. ,,No pet, but how about you join us considering you did so well today, I heard they have a trail on Snow White'' the queen chuckles and your eyes widen at her offer, but as Wilhemina pats the space next to her, you simply obey, quickly pouring the tea for them, before glancing at the fire, softly crackling, providing you with some warmth, as you feel a little awkward, under their careful gazes. ,,So tell me Y/N, what led you to steal from me in the first place?'' the queen begins, causing you to gulp as the last thing you expected was to find yourself having small talk over tea with them. ,,Yes Y/N'' Wilhemina mockingly carries on ,,We want to hear all about you'' she exclaims, again having you gulping and squirming in your seat.
The next few weeks, carry on the same way they had previously, most of your days are spent with taking care of the gardens, regularly going back to your village, providing them with some of the food that you had grown and nurtured, in secret of course. Your nights mostly looked the same as well, spending them in your room, doing some writing or sketching in your notebooks. However lately, they had often demanded your presence in the evening as well, as you often provided them with tea, the occasional wine, and any information you had on Snow White. And you couldn't help but notice how they seemed a little less strict, they stopped calling you pet and started with your actual name. You are sure by now they know that you have continued providing for your village and they hadn't killed you yet, not even mentioned it. And so, ever so slowly, your life at the palace felt almost normal as you had quite the freedom now, not having to let the guards know where you are going as they and her majesty knew you would always return in the evenings. And so it almost felt like home, appreciating the fact that you don't have to sleep on the wet and cold forest floor anymore but you knew there was something off, you should be terrified, trying to run from them after seeing all the horrible things they had done in the past but something about being around them so much, you started to understand more about the queens pain and the reason for her actions.
,,Where on earth is she?'' she paces around her large chambers, the anger flaring in her eyes as her magic sparks, her emotions bubbling out of the brunette.
Her loyal companion, sits by the fireplace, trying to keep her composure, before balancing on her cane, the sound echoing through the room. ,,I'm sure she just lost track of time'' the redhead tries calming her down, placing a hand on the queens shoulder but she is having none of that, quickly escaping her grasp. ,,She always returns, we were foolish to believe that she wouldn't betray us'' her raised voice rings through the air again, startling the redhead a little.
And Wilhemina wasn't sure whether the queen was actually concerned for your wellbeing, or simply considering whether to kill you, having noticed how Regina had almost gone soft since bringing you to the castle, still plotting her curse that she had worked on for a while but considerably softer with the people in the villages, especially your village. She knew all about you still providing them with food and yet Regina hadn't kill you and so Wilhemina had began wondering whether the brunette may feel the same way about you that Wilhemina had started, despite never talking about it.
The silence is interrupted when a guard enters ,,Your majesty'' he begins but she was having none of it. ,,Not now'' she shouts, waving her hand, getting ready to send him flying out the door. ,,Your majesty, we have finally found her'' he announces, the sound of more guards filling the air before her head snaps towards him. ,,Snow White?'' she questions, despite your best information and efforts lately, they still hadn't managed to capture her. ,,No your majesty'' he begins, before Wilhemina's heart stops in her chest.
They watch as another guard, drags your body inside, your face filled with blood as it pours from your mouth, your clothes stained and bruises beginning to plaster your face. Your eyes are closed as they throw you on the floor, in front of both women, smiling at themselves thinking they had captured you. ,,Are you both out of your minds?'' she shouts and the smiles quickly vanish from the guards faces. ,,Your majesty, Y/N has been searched for years'' he tries to justify his actions. ,,Didn't you two fools get the memo? she hasn't been searched for months, she belongs to this palace'' Wilhemina shouts, usually keeping her composure but unable to in this moment.
,,Pathetic idiots'' the evil queen shouts, in a swift motion making them turn into dust, wiping them from their existence quicker than either of them can take their next breath or justify their pathetic actions. Wilhemina is quick to rid you from the chains, her hand brushing past your cheek, the blood staining her leather gloves. Almost helplessly, Wilhemina turns to Regina, who simply stands frozen, before turning on her heels, abandoning you both as she leaves towards her balcony, trying hard to keep her emotions and rage at bay.
The battle of unconsciousness wins in the end, barely aware of the encounter that took place and so when you wake next, you find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings, a dark room, the only light sources some candles. As you try and force open your eyes, you notice the interior almost entirely a dark shade of lilac and your eyebrows furrow, trying to recollect the events from before. All you remember is trying to make your way back to the castle, stumbling upon some guards who clearly had no idea who you were and how they didn't listen to your pathetic attempts of explaining. How they beat you, hurt you and dragged you back to what you assume to be the castle. The last thing you see before sleep washes over your tired and beaten body is the lilac large sofa you are laying on before everything goes black and quiet.
Meanwhile Wilhemina had returned to the queens chambers, opting between getting you back to your room or a little closer to them and so she decides for one of her rooms in the end, needing the help of a guard to get you there, yet she trusted that same guard, having helped her with some of her secret missions in the past. She watched over you for a while, gently ridding you from the blood and changing your clothes for you, unsure why she was doing it but ignoring the thought for now, wanting to check on Regina. She finds the other woman still standing on her balcony, overlooking the gardens, despite the darkness of the night surrounding them. The cane echoing announces the redheads presence, as she stands beside her majesty, silence surrounding them.
,,How is she?'' the brunette asks, not averting her gaze from the dark night sky for a moment. ,,Fine'' Wilhemina mutters, still unsure how to read Regina's actions so far regarding you. And as the redhead catches a glimpse of the other woman's brown eyes, she can see something unfamiliar in them, something she couldn't read. ,,She's causing me to go soft'' she suddenly speaks, taking Wilhemina by surprise. ,,Is that such a bad thing?'' she questions in return, the queen averting her eyes again at the redheads statement. ,,Where is she?'' Regina asks after a moment of silence before Wilhemina speaks again. ,,She's safe'' and the statement causes for the queens eyebrows to furrow as her eyes draw towards the redheads again. ,,Where is she?'' she speaks again before Wilhemina swallows hard ,,In my room''.
,,Your room?'' her eyebrows raise now, surprised at the statement. ,,You are going soft too my dear'' she chuckles before giving her companion that nod, that nod that indicated she was tired and would retreat to her own chambers for the night. ,,Good night your majesty'' Wilhemina speaks before giving her the space she had silently asked for and retreating to her own room. In her room, she finds you still asleep and a wave of worry washes over her, having seen some of your wounds when changing and washing you before, concerned at the severity of them. ,,Y/N?'' she speaks almost softly, almost lovingly, so unlike the usual stern and intimidating woman. And her soft voice draws you from sleep instantly, as you open your eyes. And then it kinda dawns on you, who's room you are in and you instantly jolt, thinking you didn't belong there, unaware of who had put you there in the first place.
,,I'm so sorry Ms Venable'' you try, your voice still hoarse from sleep. ,,I don't know how I got here'' you apologise, trying to balance on your feet, however a sudden wave of pain washes over your body, causing you to tumble forward but a steady body forces you to remain still, stopping you from falling over. ,,It's okay dear'' she speaks so softly yet again and as you look up, you catch a glimpse of her brown eyes and how they sparkle, how suddenly she seems so much nicer, so much less intimidating and just a person, not the evil queens loyal companion. ,,Come on, let's sit you down'' she tries and you quickly obey, not wanting to cause any discomfort for her, unsure why she used a cane in the first place, but often sensing how uncomfortable she was whenever you caught a glimpse of her.
,,I put you here'' she confesses, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion but when the realisation sets in, your cheeks growing red a little, feeling silly for your earlier panic. ,,Is the pain quite bad?'' she asks, her features filled with concern but you quickly shake your bed. ,,No Ms Venable'' you assure, the pain much better now despite the remaining feeling of unbalance whenever standing up. The room fills with silence as you catch a glimpse of what you assume to be her chambers, the large wooden wardrobe in a corner, a large mirror, a desk with several books on them, two armchairs and a fireplace in the corner. As your eyes meet hers again you can't help but notice how she is staring at you, looking at you up and down as your eyebrows furrow in confusion, mirroring her actions to check if there was something wrong with your appearance.
,,You are quite pretty for a peasant'' she speaks quietly and now you are definitely contemplating whether you are awake, whether this was real. ,,Tha- Thank you Ms Venable'' you stumble over your words, unsure what to reply before she speaks again ,,You may call me Wilhemina'' she offers ,,But only when we are alone'' she instructs and you quickly nod your head, feeling a knot form in your stomach. The room fills with silence again, as you feel yourself relaxing in her presence a little, trying to think how you had gotten here in the first place, how being captured after all these years got you to a first name basis with her majesty's most trusted person. ,,What happened to you tonight?'' Wilhemina asks, drawing your thoughts and eyes back to her.
And then without hesitation and the usual composure you have around them, you fill her in on what had happened with the guards, and she listens intently, her jaw stiffening a couple of times when mentioning some of the more violent details. Before she can reply, the door bursts open, and your eyes widen when seeing the queen enter, in a dark nightgown, her hair down, the makeup gone and for the first time feeling like actually seeing Regina. ,,I can't sleep'' she sighs before noticing your presence and tensing her shoulders, not expecting you to still be there as it had been hours since Wilhemina mentioned having you in her room and assuming by now that you had left to your own room again.
,,And what are you still doing here?'' she questions, more to Wilhemina than yourself really. ,,We were just talking'' Wilhemina informs, her features remaining neutral. ,,I'll leave you to it your majesty'' you speak, quickly on your feet and ignoring the pain and dizziness as you brush past her and return to your own room. That night you have a hard time finding sleep, equally to the queen before, as you toss and turn at first, before eventually giving up on the idea of sleep and retreating to the comfort of your words and sketches as the pen flies over the pages of your notebook.
The next morning you return to your usually tasks, going on about your day, finding an odd sense of peace and quiet in the gardens. Unaware who was again looking over you, observing quietly from her balcony. And the next few weeks continue just like that, you going on about your usual tasks, having your evening encounters with both women who stopped tolerating your presence and started appreciating it, as you bring an odd sense of calm around them, some life into their monotone lives. And within those weeks you feel yourself increasingly drawn to both women, especially after they had taken you to your village a few days ago in the queens carriage, how you assumed Regina was going to bring her usual wrath of violence over people but instead her carriage brought food and supplies for your people and you couldn't believe your eyes, just as stunned as the poor people who feared as soon as they heard the queens guards and carriage arrive.
And you wondered whether maybe, just maybe the queen was going soft, unaware of the events that had taken turn behind closed doors, of how the queen had casted her spell and how it was slowly brewing, unaware of what it would bring, chaos, forgetting and what she had always desired most- her own version of a happy ending. And so tonight, you were unaware that the upcoming day would bring just that, unaware that tonight was your last with them. You had been confused about the queens unusual cheerful mood, how she had invited you to join them for supper, how Wilhemina could barely stand your gaze. How silently Wilhemina had pleaded for the queen to stop her curse but she couldn't stop it as it had been brewing silently for months and how nothing could stop it now, despite her beginning to silently regret it, despite her never admitting that to no one, not even herself really.
You find yourself sitting beside Wilhemina by the fireplace, how her eyes linger on the dancing flames, not having said much all night. ,,Wilhemina, is everything okay?'' you question silently and as her eyes meet yours, you see the pain, the doubts in them and so many unspoken words. However, your peace is interrupted when the queen enters, the door banging shut in the process and your heart stopping in your chest as you notice what she was carrying in her hands. Your notebook slaps against the table as she throws it on it, leaving behind a very confused and startled Wilhemina.
,,What is this?'' the redhead questions, her eyes meeting the angry queens eyes.
,,Ask her'' Regina spits, her angry eyes meeting yours. Wilhemina's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she looks at you. You can't do anything but stand, taking a step towards her majesty, knowing if she had read it, you would be beyond screwed.
,,I can explain your majesty'' you pathetically try but before you get the chance to, she takes a step closer, the echoing of her heels matching her inner turmoil as her eyes shoot daggers towards you, before you gasp as a hand extracts your heart, watching in shock as she holds it in her hands, the sound of it beating steadily filling the room.
,,Regina-'' Wilhemina shouts, quickly on her feet and her eyes travelling from you to the brunette.
,,I have had a feeling this carried your secrets'' she speaks, her eyes wandering towards your notebook. ,,And I wasn't surprised to read all your little confessions, find all your little sketches'' she speak almost mockingly, her eyes filled with both rage and pain.
,,Regina- what is it?'' Wilhemina tries again, her heart beating fast, her hands trembling with fear.
,,She loves us dear, both of us, the pages are filled with it'' she informs her companion, who simply stands there with a shocked expression as the room begins spinning a little.
,,Regina stop'' Wilhemina demands, her eyes pleading with the queen, her cane banging on the floor twice.
Regina's grip on your heart tightens, her gaze cold as she holds it in her hands, causing you to gasp for air. ,,Stop?'' she repeats, her tone dripping with disdain. ,,Why would I stop? when I have finally uncovered the truth about our little pet?''
Fear courses through your veins as you watch the scene unfold before you. Wilhemina's eyes widen in shock, her features mixed with disbelief and anguish. ,,Regina please'' she pleads again, her voice barely above a whisper ,,This isn't necessary''
,,You know that she loves us, you have known for a while now, we both have'' she pleads again as she steps forward, her voice filled with desperation.
Regina's eyes flicker with anger but Wilhemina continues, her words gaining strength. ,,Love should triumph over revenge'' she argues, her gaze never leaving Regina's.
The Queen's expression softens slightly at Wilhemina's words, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. For a moment it seems as though she might relent, before she senses that her curse almost reached you, knowing it was too late, that she couldn't fix this, before her eyes harden once more, her resolve returning.
"Love is a weakness, Wilhemina," she retorts, her voice cold and unforgiving. "It blinds us, makes us vulnerable. We cannot afford such weakness in our world."
Before Wilhemina can respond, having heard those same words fall many times from the queens lips, Regina reaches out and places your heart back in your chest. The pain is intense, causing you to drop to the floor, and as Regina leaves the room, Wilhemina rushes to your side, abandoning her cane, pulling you into her arms as she braces for whatever comes next.
As she glances towards the door where Regina stands, a thick cloud of purple and green already surrounding her, the dark curse finally having reached you, she is quick to press a tender kiss to your lips, causing your eyes to open. ,,I love you Y/N'' she murmurs against your mouth, her voice filled with emotion. ,,No matter what happens, remember that''
Then, as the room fills with smoke and darkness, Wilhemina shields you with her body, trying to protect you from the curse's effects. As the world fades around you, you cling to her, unaware of what is happening, unaware that in a matter of seconds you would forget everything, forget them, forget your life and the woman still trying desperately to hold you close, despite it being useless.
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buckybarnesb-tch · 11 months
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Franken/Kyle Spencer NSFW A-Z
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A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
•Kyle loves taking care of you, he thinks it's his job
•No matter what or how much you do he will hold you tight, borderline too tight just trying to keep you close and make sure you're alright
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
•Kyle doesn't have a favorite body part of his, he actually has quite a few issues with the body he lives in, considering most of it isn't his
•Kyle loves every single inch of you, he adores holding your hands, lives for kissing your lips and would kill just to squeeze your ass one last time before death
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)
•Kyle loves finishing on you, he's practically hard wired (even post death) as a frat boy not to finish inside of you, even if he loves that too
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
•He tries to hide how much he wants to throw you around
•Kyle has had problems with his strength and he's afraid to hurt you, however he wants more than anything to pin you down and have his way with you
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
•As a frat boy he had enough experience, though he also had quite a bit of trauma
•He has to relearn quite a lot and while he knows what he's doing he has to relearn how to be gentle, slow, careful, or whatever you need from him, though he's entirely worth it
F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)
•Kyles favorite position is missionary, he wants to see your face and gage your reactions, he loves knowing that he's making you feel as good as he does, it makes him feel accomplished, that he's done his job taking care of you
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
•Once he gets comfortable with you he can have moments of goofy, borderline childishness when trying to make you laugh or smile
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
•He's trimmed but he doesn't do anything more than that
•The hair on his head however is messy and adorable at all times
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
•It takes him a while to get romance, he wasn't bad at it before he died but relearning that took a bit of time for him
•Once he gets the hang of it, he thrives at giving you the romantic nights and making you feel special
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
•Always
•Loves It
•Constantly!!
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
•Anal-is a big one that Kyle begs to try for a while before you give in
•Switch-Kyle loves being in charge with you but he also enjoys it when you take control and tell him what to do
L = Location (Favorite places to do the deed)
•Kyle prefers a bed, your bed
•He doesn't like others looking at you so being anywhere but your room doesn't happen a lot at all
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
•Kyle almost seems like a teenager discovering sex for the first time every day
•He doesn't need motivation, he's always ready and waiting for you
N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
•Anything that causes you pain
•Kyle already has trouble when it comes to hurting people and animals, his strength is a major issue and hurting you is something he's terrified of doing so please don't ask him to
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
•Giving
•Kyle loves hearing the sounds you make when he goes down on you, it may be his favorite thing in the world
•If you allowed him to he would do it for hours and never stop for air, listening to your whimpers and squeals, holding down your twitching hips
•God he loves the taste of your pussy
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
•He was very fast at first, feeling the need to rut into you frantically until you slowed him
•He actually quite enjoys slow, passionate sex, watching the expressions on your face change is fascinating to him learning what movements make you scrunch up your nose adorably or make you moan like an overzealous porn star
•Fast, slow, rough, sensual, whatever you need that day is what Kyle will give you, he wants to please you however you need, he has a need to make you happy after everything you’ve done to take care of him…and he loves your pussy with a passion
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
•Everyday
•All the time
•Sometimes living in a school for witches you only have 5 minutes here and there and Kyle is determined to always make the most of them
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
•He enjoys trying new things with you and he'll try just about anything you want
•You only ever risked doing it anywhere but your room once though, Kyle hates the idea of people seeing your body
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)
•He has a crazy amount of stamina
•Kyle can last for several hours before he even needs a break let alone has to call it quits
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
•He's not a huge fan of toys but he'll give them a try if you want him to
•He likes your vibrator, placing it against your clit while he fucks you gives you both an ungodly amount of pleasure
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
•Every once in a while Kyle will tease you but he's more of a dive straight into it sort of guy
•His foreplay was abysmal in the beginning but he got much better at it knowing how happy it made you
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
•Kyle is definitely a grunter
•He's not usually all that loud but if he gets lost in the moment he can really get there
W = Wild Card (Get a random Headcanon for the character of your choice)
•Kyle surprised you with how snuggly he is, especially with how angry and growly he is all the time
•He loves resting his head on your belly and wrapping his arms around you, curling up and loving the feel of you playing with his hair
•Your personal Frankenstein is adorable
X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)
•6 1/2 inches
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
•Kyle has a high sex drive, he's always desperate for you and you don't make it easy on him
•Every time you wear those cute shorts that can’t even be called pants he's so hard it hurts and so needy for you
Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
•It's rare that he falls asleep before you considering his stamina however when he does you enjoy just watching him for a bit
•Usually you fall asleep before him and Kyle is quick to snuggle you against his chest and nuzzle his face into your hair
•He takes these kinds of moments to thank whatever deity exists in the world for letting him come back and experience true happiness with you
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late night sins ~ xavier plympton;ahs 1984
word count: 5360 (the longest fic i’ve ever written!!)
request?: yes!
“Can you do a xavier plympton smut/ fluff where theres an poc reader and basically they meet at camp redwood and xavier basically flirts with the reader alot an the readers a virgin and she has like this gold cross pendant soo his friends kinda pick with the reader about her being the only virgin out of the group, and basically xavier sneaks in the girl cabin on a late night while everyone is sleeping wakes up the poc reader and takes her virginity under the covers but she has to be quiet to not alert the other camp counselors in the female cabin…”
description: in which the good christian girl decides to delve into sin after she meets her fellow hot camp counsellor
pairing: xavier plympton x poc!female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (oral; f receiving, unprotected p in v, pull out method is used but fr wrap it before you tap it kids)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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The minute she stepped out of her car, she knew she was going to stick out like a sore thumb. She could see the other camp counsellors gathered around by the entrance. They were all wearing skintight, revealing clothes. One girl with messy blonde hair was passing a joint to one of the boys stood next to her. An older looking man was stood with them wearing pants so tight she could make out the outline of his...downstairs area.
The gold cross hung around her neck felt like it was burning into her skin.
She swallowed her fear and forced herself towards the others. The crunching of dirt under her tennis shoes felt like a thundering stomp as the attention was pulled towards her. The blonde looked her up and down as she blew smoke from the corner of her mouth. “Who invited the Virgin Mary?”
Two of her friends snickered while the other two - a black haired girl and a tall boy with sandy blonde hair - shuffled awkwardly at the joke. Well, the girl was awkward. The boy was silent, but he was looking at her with a look in his eye she couldn’t quite place.
“I’m, um, (Y/N),” she said, ignoring the hurtful comment. “I’m a counsellor this summer, too.”
“I guess Margaret needed someone to try and keep her goodie two shows rules in place,” the blonde said. “I’m Montana. This is Brooke, Trevor, Chet, Ray, and Xavier.”
“It’s n-nice to m-meet you,” (Y/N) said.
Trevor, the man with the tight pants and a big bulge, chuckled. “Well, isn’t she adorable. Where did Margaret find you?”
“Leave her alone,” Brooke said. “It’s nice to meet you too, (Y/N). Here, let me take you to Margaret. She’ll be able to get you acquainted here.”
Xavier watched as Brooke guided (Y/N) towards Margaret's office. Unlike the other girls, including good girl Brooke, she was completely covered in baggy clothes despite the intense heat of the summer. Which, he knew he shouldn’t have found attractive, but he did. He was so taken by her after such a short interaction.
Montana elbowed Xavier to snap him out of his train of thought. “Do not tell me you’re eyeing up the Bible humper.”
“Fuck off. I think she’s cute,” Xavier retorted, taking the joint from Ray.
“Never gonna happen, man,” Ray told him. “You’ll be lucky if you see her ankles this summer.”
“Or maybe not,” Chet added. “Most of those Christian girls are freaks. She’ll be on her knees by nightfall I’d say.”
Xavier threw the lit joint at Chet. The four remaining counsellors made noises of disapproval as the joint fizzled out on the ground. Xavier ignored them as he walked away. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he needed to get away from his shitty friends. Sure, at one point Xavier would’ve been laughing along with them at the Christian girl’s expensive, but this Christian girl was different. To him she was, anyways.
He found himself headed towards the counsellor’s quarters, which happened to be on the way past Margaret’s office. He glanced over towards the open door as he passed and noticed (Y/N) stood with Margaret. As if feeling his gaze, (Y/N) looked over and locked eyes with him. He smiled at her, hoping it looked as friendly as he meant it to. She smiled back, shyly, and quickly looked away.
That was all he needed to be wrapped around her fingers.
~~~~~~
That night, all the counsellors were gathered in the female counsellor’s cabin. It was majorly against Margaret’s rules, but that’s why they were doing it. If they were going to be forced into being Margaret’s anti-fun police for the summer, they wanted to have one last night of debauchery. That included weed, alcohol, and, if they could get away with it, sex.
When (Y/N) walked through the door, they were already well into their night of fun. Everyone turned to look at her as she took in the scene with wide eyes. She was coming from the showers, as evident by her dripping wet hair clinging to her neck and shoulders. She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a white tank top that was so thin that it was easy to make out the outline of her brown breasts against the white fabric. Xavier had to shuffle a pillow over his growing boner.
“The Virgin Mary shows skin,” Montana commented. “How scandalous.”
“What are you guys doing?” she asked.
“We’re trying to have some fun,” Montana responded. “Which won’t happen if your goodie two shoes ass goes to tell Margaret on us.”
“I won’t tell.” All eyes followed her towards her bed, the one that Xavier was sat on. She put her dirty clothes into the bag and sat next to him. “Pass me a beer.”
Her request shocked everyone. Ray grabbed a bottle from the cooler and passed it to (Y/N). “You drink beer?”
“Well...no. But I’ve drank the wine at church, so I figure that’s the same thing.”
“There’s wine in church?” Trevor asked.
(Y/N) nodded. “Communal wine. It’s supposed to be the blood of Christ.”
“You Bible humpers drink blood?” Ray asked. “You guys really are freaks!”
“No, it’s not - ” Xavier cut her off by putting a hand on her arm and shaking his head.
She sighed and opened the beer bottle. Her heart was hammering against her chest. What would her parents think if they found out she was drinking at camp? What would her pastor say? They had all been convinced that the camp was going to be a place of sin and tried to convince her not to go.
But she had spent her entire life being a good Christian girl. She followed everything her parents and priests had told her from the day she was born. This was the first time she had ever made a decision for herself. She was a young adult now. If she wanted to drink, then she could drink.
There’s always the option to pray for forgiveness once the summer ends, she reminded herself.
She brought the bottle to her lips and took a big mouthful. When she swallowed the thick liquid, she cringed and began to gag. Her fellow counsellors laughed at her reaction.
“Definitely not like wine,” she croaked.
“Here.” Brooke passed her some water. “I’ll make the beer go down easier, and it’ll wipe the taste from your mouth.”
(Y/N) accepted the water gratefully and took a sip.
The small mouthfuls of beer started working very quickly on her. By the time she had finished her first bottle of beer, (Y/N) was already feeling warm and fuzzy. She felt her body lull to the side against Xavier, who welcomed her with an arm around her shoulder, adding his bodily warmth to hers.
“Hey now, Virgin Mary, leave room for Jesus there,” Montana mocked.
“Shut the fuck up, Montana,” she retorted.
The curse was new on her tongue, but it tasted delicious as it spilled from her lips. Everyone seemed shocked and impressed by her choice of words, and she was shocked herself, but she was starting to like the feeling she was getting. Not just from the beer, but also from throwing caution to the wind and doing what most people her age did. Sure, she would likely feel some sort of guilt over the coming days about this night, but for now she felt like she was floating on cloud nine.
“You’ve never done anything like this before, have you?” Brooke asked her. “The drinking and cursing, I mean.”
(Y/N) shook her head. “Never. My parents say cursing sounds unladylike, and binge drinking is kind of viewed as a sin, especially when you’re underaged.”
“Religion sounds boring,” Chet said.
“It is,” (Y/N) admitted, shocked by the fact that she really did believe that. Her whole life she had been a devout Christian, never once questioning her faith, but no one could deny how strict her Christian parents were, or how intolerant some of her devout family members and neighbors were. She had never been around people like the other counsellors before. She never knew what kind of life she could possibly have outside of her religion.
“Are you even allowed to have boyfriends?” Montana asked. “Is that a sin, too?”
“Having a boyfriend isn’t a sin, but it is awkward to try and have any form of PDA in front of parents or other adults,” (Y/N) said. “Even holding hands is awkward.”
“So have you ever been kissed?” Brooke asked.
(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, a couple times. It was very awkward, but so are most first kisses.”
“Have you ever had sex?” Montana asked. Suddenly, (Y/N) became shy again, which caused Montana to grin wickedly. “You haven’t, have you? You’re still a virgin!”
(Y/N) shrunk back against Xavier, who held her protectively towards him. “Knock it off, Montana.”
“What? I’m just stating a fact, and the fact is she’s a virgin. Poor thing will probably never know how good it feels to have a big dick all up inside of her.”
(Y/N)’s thighs clenched together at Montana’s words. Of course she had thought about sex before. She was in her early 20s, she had gone through the crazy hormonal stages of puberty where sex was the one thing on every teenager’s mind. But she never got to explore those urges. She had been taught her entire life that sex before marriage was the ultimate sin, and that if she tried to...relieve herself, so to speak, that she would also be condemned to Hell. But, boy, did she ever think of how badly she wanted someone to finally deflower her, if not just to make the sinful thoughts go away.
Her squirming definitely did not go unnoticed by Xavier, but he didn’t bring any attention to it. The last thing he wanted was for Montana to have more reasons to mock (Y/N).
“I wanna have sex,” she said in a soft voice. “But I want to be sure of it. I want it to be with someone I’m sure of.”
Xavier wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but he could’ve swore he saw her eyes flicker towards him when she said the last part.
No, there’s no way, he thought. We’ve barely had a conversation together, stop thinking so highly of yourself.
But...but what if she did?
He glanced down at her again, but her attention was drawn to whatever one of the others were saying.
Maybe I could figure this out later on tonight when everyone is gone, he thought, and the idea made him smirk to himself.
~~~~~~
The male counsellors went back to their own cabin once the night had come to an end. Xavier laid in his bed, starring at the ceiling as he waited to make sure everyone was asleep. Once the cabin was filled with soft breathing and snoring, he quickly got up and pulled on his shoes. He opened the rickety door as silently as he could, stopping to cringe when it let out a squeak anyways. When none of the others stirred, he continued on his mission.
All the girls were also sound asleep. Their cabin was nearly pitch black, with just some rays of white light shining in from the full moon.
(Y/N) was laying on her side, her hands tucked under her face as she breathed softly. Xavier couldn’t help but smile at her as he made his way towards her bed. She looked so beautiful and peaceful. Like an angel, for a lack of better words.
He knelt down next to her bed and lightly shook her. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up. Xavier looked over his shoulder to make sure that Brooke and Montana were definitely asleep before shaking (Y/N) a little harder. She mumbled something incoherent before her eyes slowly blinked open. When she looked at Xavier, she let out a gasp and he quickly covered her mouth to stop her from making any other noises.
“Shh!” he said. “It’s just me.”
“What are you doing here?!” she whispered. “If you get caught you’ll be in big trouble!”
“No one is going to catch me. Margaret has been dead asleep since before we had our little party,” Xavier said, a cocky grin on his face. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“It couldn’t wait until morning?”
“No, because my response to the answer might need the cover of nightfall.” She looked at him in confusion, so he continued, “Earlier, when you were talking about losing your virginity to someone you’re sure of, did you look at me?”
She stared at him blankly. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Xavier, this can wait until morning.”
She went to roll over with her back to him, but he quickly took hold of her arms and stopped her from moving.
“I’m serious, (Y/N), I need to know,” he said. “Because if you genuinely meant that, I might have to take you up on that offer.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why? So you can brag to the others about taking the Christian girl’s virginity? I don’t think so.”
He pulled away from her, hurt by her accusation, but then realized that it was a very valid point. They barley knew each other and here he was, coming to her in the middle of the night because he thought she had inferred wanting to sleep with him. Even if he didn’t have the ill intentions that she thought he did, he clearly did not have any pure ones either.
“It’s not that at all,” he said. “I swear to you, (Y/N). I just...I’ve been very infatuated with you since we first met earlier, and that’s very unlike me because we’ve hardly talked to one another. But it’s the truth, I swear. I’m not just trying to get into your pants.”
(Y/N) rolled onto her back to look up at Xavier. Her face was unreadable, which was just making things worse. He wished she would say something, anything. Even if she just told him to fuck off, with that beautiful, innocent mouth of hers.
Okay, maybe she shouldn’t say that.
She sighed and propped herself up on her elbows. “Okay, yes I did look at you when I said that, because I would be okay with losing my virginity to you, Xavier.”
With the words officially out of her mouth, Xavier couldn’t help but pounce on her. He pressed his lips against hers, stopping whatever else was about to be sad. He got up onto the bed and positioned himself so that he was straddling her still covered body. He kissed her intensely and passionately, but not so much as to rush her or make her feel uncomfortable.
She settled into the kiss very quickly. It wasn’t the first time she had made out with someone. Again, she had been a teenager with wild hormones once. Just because she hadn’t gone all the way with anyone didn’t mean that she hadn’t at least got to second base a couple of times. Of course, she felt guilty afterwards because of her upbringing, but it always felt good in the moment. And, in this moment, it felt especially good to be kissing Xavier’s soft, plump lips like this.
But when she heard the sound of one of the girls rolling over in their beds, she quickly put a hand against his chest and pushed him back. “We can’t do this here. What if they wake up?”
“It’s so dark, they wouldn’t even know,” Xavier said. “And we’ll be quiet. Well, I will be anyways. I don’t know about you.”
She wanted to glare at him, but he quickly ducked his head down to start kissing her neck. She bit her lip to stop a moan from erupting from her mouth as she felt a tingling sensation between her legs.
She couldn’t lie, the thought of losing her virginity in her camp counsellor bunk while her other camp counsellors slept did sound very risky and naughty. It also sounded very cliché, which was what she wanted. If she was going to be giving into sin this summer, she may as well do it in the most cliché way possible.
Xavier slipped under the covers with her and continued to kiss down her body. He kissed around the exposed areas of her neck and chest, not wanting to push too far just yet by trying to get under her shirt. Even though he was trying to get into her pants, he still wanted to be a gentleman about it.
(Y/N) looked down at him as he disappeared under the blankets. She was confused at first. If he was planning to take her virginity, shouldn’t he be up here with her? Wasn’t that how sex worked?
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“I want to make sure you’re ready before we get into it,” he responded. “I want to make you feel good first. Can I take these shorts off?”
She nodded, but then realized he couldn’t see her and said, “Yes.”
He curled his fingers around the waistband of her pants and pulled them, and her panties, down in one swift movement. She raised her hips so he could pull them down as far as her ankles. Despite the blankets still covering her lower half, she felt very naked. Even if no one else could see her if they happened to look over, she knew that Xavier could see her. And right now, he was very, very close to her.
She gasped and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth when she felt something wet against her core. “What was that?!”
“My tongue.”
(Y/N) quickly covered her mouth when she felt it against her again. She had never heard of this form of sexual intimacy before. When she was in high school, her mom had warned her about all of the “impure ways” boys would try to use her, which included them wanting to stick their penises in her mouth, but no one had ever mentioned a guy doing the same thing to her. It felt dirty, but also it felt so good.
She muffled her moans with both hands as Xavier continued to lick from her clit down to her tight, untouched hole. A wetness began pooling between her legs that he lapped up as if it were the first drink of water he had in weeks. Her body shuddered with pleasure every time his tongue connected with her. It was better than she ever could’ve imagined, and that just made her even more excited for the actual sex.
Something began to build in her stomach. A feeling she had never felt before. It felt like someone was inside of her, pushing something down from her stomach to get it out of her. She tried to tap Xavier to tell him, but she was afraid to lift her hand from her mouth in case she made a loud noise and woke the others.
“I can feel that you’re tightening up,” he said. “That means you’re getting close. Lean into it, beautiful. Let it happen. Cum all over my mouth.”
It was enough to send her toppling over the edge. She pressed her hands against her mouth as hard as she could as a scream of pleasure ripped from her lips. Xavier’s fingertips dug into her hips as he held her to him, taking in every bit of her juices that he could. He knew it was her first time having an orgasm, but he didn’t expect for her to become so wet and to finish so quickly just from his tongue. His dick twitched with excitement at the thought of being inside of her.
With one last kiss to her clit, Xavier began kissing up her stomach, lifting her shirt slightly as he left messy, wet marks over her belly, her chest, her neck, and finally getting to her face. Through the white moonlight, (Y/N) could see a glisten on his mouth and chin. Between her legs throbbed as she realized that was her slick on him.
He gently moved his hands away from her mouth so he could kiss her. The taste of his lips were much different, and she knew that was because that was the taste of her on him. It was all just so hot that she almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. She was sure she was dreaming it all, that she’d wake up in this bed alone and unsatisfied.
Xavier reached under the covers to start pulling down his own pants, but hesitated a moment. He pulled away from the kiss, (Y/N) trying to follow him with her own lips.
“Wait,” he said. “Before we go all the way, I have to check in one last time. Are you okay with this, (Y/N)?”
She nodded frantically. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please Xavier. Please.”
“Okay, but if you want to stop at all you tell me, okay? I know I just warmed you up, but it is going to hurt at first either way. If it’s too much, we stop. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
He sat up and pulled his pants down around his knees. His dick sprang free from its confides, standing painfully at attention in the moonlight. (Y/N) looked at it with wide eyes. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the first penis she’d see, but it was certainly a big one. She wondered how it would even fit inside of her.
Xavier placed his hands under her thighs and pulled them up so they were wrapped around his hips. The ran the head of his dick through the slick that was still left over from him having been between her legs. She whimpered at the feeling, quickly putting a hand over her mouth again. Both of them glanced over to make sure Brooke and Montana were still peacefully sleeping.
“I’m going to put it in now,” Xavier told her. “I’ll do it very slowly, okay?”
She nodded. He thrust his hips forwards a little, pushing just the tip of his cock into her. He hissed at the tight feeling around his already sensitive tip. He wasn’t sure how he’d ever last when she was already gripping him so tightly and he barely had the head of his dick inside of her.
(Y/N) gasped into her hand at the feeling. Xavier pushed until his head was completely inside of her, stretching her out. The stretch was definitely a painful, burning feeling. It was like her body knew he wasn’t supposed to be in there and wanted him out, but she wanted him in there. She had fantasized about this since the first time she had ever laid her eyes on Xavier - a time she knew he had definitely forgotten.
He lick his thumb and lowered it between them, pressing it against her clit and gently rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves. (Y/N) whimpered at the gesture.
“This should help make it feel better,” he told her. “Just until I can get all the way inside of you, okay?”
She nodded again. At this point, talking was definitely not happening. Any noise that were to come out of her mouth would just be a moan or a whimper of pleasure, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the volume down without her hands over her mouth.
Xavier continued to push inside of her while gently rubbing circles into her clit. He looked between them and watched as his dick disappeared into her. His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, trying to stop any sounds that might come out unintentionally. It felt so good inside of her that he already did not want the this to end. He just wanted to stay inside of her forever, feel her warm walls gripping around him, look at her beautiful face as it contorted in pure ecstasy.
When he was buried all the way inside of her, he leaned down and took her hand from her mouth so he could kiss her. He continued to rub her clit, but he kept himself deep inside of her so she could get used to his size. She moaned into the kiss, her body inadvertently jerking from the pleasure she was feeling. The motion caused Xavier’s hips to move forward to fill her again. It was just a slight movement, but it was enough that it drove Xavier wild.
“Do that again,” she whispered against his lips.
“What?”
“The way you moved your hips. Do it again, please. It felt really good.”
He smiled down at her and gently grinded his hips against hers. Her mouth hung open, but no sounds were coming now. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and that was all Xavier needed to tell him he was doing a good job.
He took his hand from between her legs so he could fully press himself against her. He captured her lips with his again and continued to gently thrust into her. The slow sensation was enough to make his orgasm build at a quicker rate than he would’ve liked, but he knew he wasn’t going to finish until she did. He wanted to feel her cum around him at least once before he would let himself finish.
Luckily, he could feel that familiar tightening feeling; where her walls started grasping at him tighter than before and he could feel her stomach tensing beneath him.
“Remember what I said earlier,” he whispered. “Just let it happen. Let me feel you cum all over this dick.”
She nodded, soft whimpers coming from her mouth. It wasn’t too long afterwards that he felt her clenching around him so tightly that he was sure she was going to rip his dick off just with her pussy. He kissed her hard, muffling her cries of pleasure. His hips were stilled as he let her ride out her climax, knowing that if he were to move anymore he’d definitely cum, too, and he wasn’t going to cum inside of her. That was too dangerous. He didn’t want to be responsible for any sort of backlash from her parents once she got home from camp, even if that ship had already sailed.
When the feeling of her quivering became too much, Xavier quickly pulled out of her and sat up on his knees again. He pushed her tank top up just enough to expose her belly and the underside of her boobs. It only took a few pumps of his hand, slick from her juices over his dick, before he was exploding over her stomach. He threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan.
They both were still, panting to catch their breaths. Xavier looked down at (Y/N), now covered in his seat, and he felt his dick twitch again. If he could take a picture of this moment, he would. And he would’ve stuck it in his wallet so he could look at it all the damn time.
He reached for her discarded towel from earlier that night and wiped her off. She hissed when he wiped between her legs, and he mumbled as soft, “Sorry.”
They both pulled their pants back up and got themselves straightened away before Xavier laid down next to her. He figured he could spare a few moments just to cuddle up close to her before he would have to run back to his cabin and his bed to try and get some sleep. (Y/N) rolled into his chest, taking in his warmth and the scent of him that was quickly becoming her favorite scent; the smell of his hair paste and the sweet cologne he wore. She wished she could combine them together into a perfume that she would wear for the rest of her life.
It was silent for some time except for the soft breathing of her bunkmates and the occasional snore that came from Brooke. Once her head had finally stopped feeling lightheaded, (Y/N) decided it was time to confess to Xavier.
“I’ve seen you before, you know.”
He moved so he could look down at her. “What?”
“I was in one of your aerobics classes,” she said. “Not very long ago, maybe a few months ago? One of my friends signed us up because she heard it was a good way to stay in shape.”
“I...I feel so bad to say that I don’t...remember,” Xavier said. He was sure he would’ve remembered seeing this beautiful specimen in one of his classes. He saw so many faces every day, but he always remembered the prettiest ones, and (Y/N) was definitely a face to remember.
“I wasn’t in it long enough to be remembered,” she admitted. “We walked in, and I saw you and...well...I started feeling...impure things when I saw you in your tight suit doing all those hip movements and stuff. You were in the middle of another class so we had to wait. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to start our class because my friend’s parents walked in to bring her something she had forgotten and saw the way everyone was dressed and how they were all moving. They were appalled. They dragged us out and brought us home. Told my parents, who grounded me for a week because of it. They claimed that we were trying to behind their backs, but I truly had no idea what I was in for when I agreed to go.”
Xavier cringed. He felt terrible hearing the way (Y/N) must’ve lived her entire life. Having to be afraid of mistakenly doing something “impure” or “sinful” and getting punished for it, even if the “sinful” things were just basic things that happen in life. He wished he could’ve taken away all those bad times from her memory and replace them with good ones; memories where (Y/N) could just be a normal person and not have to worry about God’s wrath or whatever they said in churches.
“That’s why I glanced at you when we were talking about sex,” (Y/N) continued. “Because...because I had fantasies about this very situation happening since the day I first saw you.”
Xavier couldn’t help but smirk proudly at that. “And did the actual thing live up to your expectations?”
She giggled. “Majorly.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
There was another moment of silence before Xavier added, “It doesn’t have to be a one time thing, though.”
(Y/N) turned to rest her chin on his chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...maybe, once the summer ends, we could go on some proper dates. Maybe...actually be a couple?”
(Y/N)’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she looked at him. He smiled at how beautiful she was, and at how lucky he was to be the one she was looking at.
“Really?” she asked.
“Only if you want to,” he responded.
Her reply was by attacking his face with kisses. He chuckled as she left not one inch of his face unkissed, ending with her lips against his.
“That’s a yes, by the way,” she said.
“I could tell,” he said. “I should go before I get in trouble for being here.”
“I guess you should.”
He didn’t move to leave right away. He continued to gaze into her eyes for a moment longer, before kissing her one last time and getting up from her bed. He couldn’t help but looking back at her as he made his way towards the door. She was still smiling at him as he finally allowed the door to swing shut behind him, obstructing his view of her.
He couldn’t help but stand outside the door for a moment, letting out a long, happy sigh, before making his way back to the boy’s cabin.
I’ve never written poc!reader before so I hope this is okay! I usually don’t describe anything with my general x reader fics because I want them to be inclusive for everyone, but I don’t mind writing specific ones like this when asked!
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hstylesloverr · 1 year
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i accidentally deleted the question sorry 😭 u asked for it and here it is!!!
SEPTEMBER 2022.
yourinstagram via instagram post
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liked by yourbff, username, johnslsh and more
yourinstagram what the shirt says 🫶
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yourbff you’re literally the hottest person on the planet
yourinstagram u mean urself
username i love your style!!
username can't believe she's that pretty
brycedlls 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
yourfriend your boyfriend is so lucky😿😿😿
username she has a bf? we lost
yourinstagram @ yourfriend but u haven’t seen my man 🤭🤭
taissafarmiga ❤️
yourinstagram love uu 🫶🫶
yoursister clean ur shirt pig
yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄
username honestly the most beautiful girl i've ever seen
johnslsh i would change my career to marine biology just to be with you
yourinstagram don't even try, you'd fail every semester
clairo give me back my skirt
yourinstagram come for it 🫶
OCTOBER 2022 | TWITTER
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NOVEMBER 2022.
evanfan via instagram post
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liked by username, ahsfan, evanfan3 and more
evanfan i found her browsing among those followed by taissa... she's living the dream fr
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username no bc i literally followed her from seeing her so often on pinterest she removed me from followers and made the account private 😭😭😭
evanfan dont worry she surely remove from followers all the people she didn't know personally
username okay but SHE’S A SWIFTIE
evanfan evan is in good hands now
ahsfan ok but can we talk about how pretty the girl is? i’m literally in love with her
evanfan7 i just hope this one doesn't turn out to be like ponprincess
evanfan2 naah i'm sure if it wasn't for the people she knew who leaked that she was dating evan we never would have found out
ahsfan8 okay but the photos that came out at the beginning of the year of evan leaving a university residence? they were shouting it to our faces
username i think they really want to keep the relationship super private so maybe that's why she made all her social media private
evanfan4 i can't even imagine being y/n and seeing that every woman alive wants to fuck her man
username exactly ?? on the one hand i would die of jealousy but on the other my ego would be through the roof knowing all the people who would literally KILL to be in my place
ahsfan3 she’s getting that dick every day. she’s getting that dick every day. she’s getting that dick every day.
evanupdates via instagram post
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liked by evanfan, ahsfan, taissafan, evanyn and more
evanupdates 🚨 | Evan and his girlfriend out tonight in New York.
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username nooo please don’t do this to me
evanfan PLEASE IM A STARRRRR
evanfan7 my guts are turning from jealousy
ahsfan this reminded me of the paps pics of emma and evan
emmafan nah emma better
evanfan @ emmafan girl be fr u don’t even know y/n
evanyn the way evan has his arm around y/n's shoulder
evanfan4 the girl is soo pretty
ahsfan5 i really like this couple 😭😭 please sir let y/n be the one
username the fact that they are having physical contact at all times
evanfan8 the way this is the only picture we get of them in public and they've probably been together for almost a year
evanfan we ❤️ a private relationship
taissafan i want to cry from the pain i feel right now
username wait, isn't she the girl who has been seen on several occasions with clairo and gracie abrams?
graciefan yes she is!! she went with gracie in highschool and they’ve been very close friends
evanfan9 play the other woman by lana del rey
username y/n is the definition of “who is she”
evanfan6 ok but after the tweet y/n put up about not knowing evan peters this is iconic
username she was lying to us fr
DECEMBER 2022.
yourinstagram via instagram story
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plus-size-reader · 2 years
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Life with Kit Walker HC
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Pre-asylum:
~There has never been a more perfect man and I will not be hearing anyone out about anything
~Kit smells like motor oil and cigarettes, in the best way
~Holds your jaw when he kisses you, I don’t make the rules
~Exclusively calls you “doll” “honey” or  his “little wife”
~Though, sometimes, when it’s just the two of you and you’re both feeling especially playful, he calls you “wifey” just so you’ll call him “hubby”
~Surprising him at work with lunch, which the guys at the shop all tease him for
~Playful taps on your ass, especially when you’re least expecting it
~Loves the feeling of your nails on his skin. Like, run your hands through his hair and this man melts
~Hugs you around your middle a lot and buries his face wherever he can get it, so that he can breathe you in and be surrounded by you for a while
~He always has dirty hands, and leaves oil stains on all of your towels and blankets without even meaning to. Sometimes, he even swipes a dirty thumb over your face to watch the jet black liquid mar your skin
~Huffs and puffs under his breath when he’s frustrated about something but doesn’t actually want to bother you about it
~Making dinner together after a long day, and Kit ends up making more of a mess than actually helping you in the kitchen
~Puts money away in a coffee can under the bed for a couple months to buy you real fancy present for your anniversary because you deserve it
~Will put off washing his hair until you can do it for him just so that he can enjoy having you so close to him
~Fidgets with his wedding ring constantly when it’s on his hand
~When he’s at work though, Kit wears his ring on a silver chain around his neck, so that i falls just above his heart all day without him having to worry about losing it
~Super protective of you to the point of absurdity
~Once got in a fight with some guy at the bar after one too many for making a comment about you that he didn’t like
~Runs you baths sometimes, with that fancy bubble bath your friend brought in that basket for your birthday a few years ago
~Then, taking that bath with you and soaking together until the water is a nipping cold
~You haven’t opened a door since you started dating, whether that be a car door, your front door, or the door to your favorite diner in town
~Late night kisses that taste like beer and stale cigarette
~Kit strikes me as the kind of husband who likes to help you get ‘unready’ as much as he likes to watch  you get dolled up. Like, he would help you out of your shoes, unzip your dress, and undo your necklace and put it in the jewelry box
~Is obsessed with watching you put on your makeup, often standing behind you in the mirror with his hands on your hips and his chin resting in the crook of your neck
~Kit has a heart of gold and knows how to use it when it comes to you
Inside Briarcliff:
~Talking to one another about the lives you lived before this and who you always dreamed you would be, outside of the circumstances
~Kit doing his best to protect you in there, always staying close when he can and even taking a caning or two when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time
~Talking every night through the walls of your rooms, and finding comfort in his voice
~Holding you close and tight whenever he gets the opportunity, in an effort to keep you from feeling less alone while also making himself feel better
~Walking the grounds together, even holding hands on occasion when there’s no one around to put a stop to it
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multifandomfix · 9 months
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Imagine being a new nun at Briarcliff and being punished by Jude.
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You’d taken your vows, knew the rules, but even that couldn’t prepare you for Sister Jude. She was a force of nature and there was a whole new set of rules when it came to working alongside her. Rules you weren’t familiar with and found yourself accidentally breaking.
Your crime was turning off the music in the rec room. When Jude heard the music cease, she wasted no time in sussing you out as the culprit. Her hand fell on your shoulder, causing you to jump. “Make your way to my office. Now.”
Obediently, and with a sense of dread and curiosity, you made your way up the staircase. Stairway to heaven, she called it. You wondered now if that had any truth to it.
When Jude came into the office several minutes later, you jumped. “You might be new here, but I can’t just let rules slide. Even new blood needs to be made an example of.”
You nodded once in understanding, afraid to spark for fear of making things worse for yourself. “Turn around. Bend over. It’ll be over before you know it.” While her words conveyed kindness there was none in her icy tone.
You did, your heartbeat quickening as you cast a look over your shoulder and saw her retrieve a cane from the cupboard. You turned back, squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact.
Without warning, she rapped the cane against your ass with a crack and you yelped. Even through two layers of fabric, it stung. “Count,” Jude demanded.
“One.”
The process was repeated nine more times, each sending a wave of pain mixed with the slightest bit of pleasure through your body. By the end, you weren’t sure what to think of your ‘punishment’.
For anon
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Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @rukia-28, @malfoyfeed
Jude Martin: @brienneseveruscalaway, @derry-n, @bluenystic, @peggycarter-steverogers, @mars-rivers, @gothtrash6969, @callsigncrash, @words-of-holly, @somelonelywriter
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KINKTOBER DAY 5 | Tate Langdon x Reader
Kinktober day 5: semi-public sex
Warnings: 18+, fingering, semi-public sex,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’It’s the third time we go. I get that you love Halloween, but aren’t you tired of people jumping before you and screaming to scare you?’’ 
‘’I’ll go by myself if you don’t want to come.’’
Dani eyed your outfit, then hummed disapprovingly. ‘’Dressed like that? Terrible idea.’’ 
‘’There’s a lot of people and it’s dark. It’s the perfect place for creepy men to prey on women who are alone. Especially if they are wearing a skirt,’’ Penelope added, being on Dani’s side.
‘’I can defend myself,’’ you said, not worried at all. 
‘’We’re all going.’’ 
While you loved Halloween, you didn’t tell your friend the real reason you wanted to go to Horror Nights again. They would tease you to no ends if they knew it was to see the cute boy you had spotted on opening weekend. He was one of the scare actors in the haunted maze attraction. He had crawled over to you to scare you, but your eyes found his and time stopped for a few seconds. His face was caked with a skull makeup, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 
The line for tickets was long, as always. It’s Saturday night, what were you expecting? After what felt like an eternity, you finally made it inside. The first attraction didn't really send shivers down your spine, but Penelope got scared by a clown and almost fell on her ass, making the three of you laugh so much your stomachs hurt. 
When you — finally — got to the haunted maze, you searched for him in every corner. But he was nowhere in sight. You saw a boy in a skull makeup, but it wasn’t him. His hair was bright green, not blond. 
The last attraction was the penitentiary, which turned out to be terrifying. The people in the cells were chained and acting insanely, some were getting lobotomies or just screaming and running. The lights were flickering, adding to the spooky ambiance. 
You were almost out of the attraction when a group of energetic kids bumped into you and your friends, separating you from them. ‘’Dani! Penelope!’’ you called out, but your voice got lost in the chaos. ‘’Dani—’’ 
Your words got cut off by a gasp when a tall figure in a black rubber suit appeared before you. Panic set in, and before you could scream, his hand clamped over your mouth, and he pushed you back against a wall. Actors were not supposed to touch the visitors. You struggled, trying to break free, but he was much stronger than you. 
An amused chuckle came from underneath the mask, then the person revealed themself. 
Through the flickering lights, you caught his eyes, the ones you had been looking for all night.
The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. ‘’I scared you.’’ 
You shoved his shoulder, trying to appear mad. ‘’Can you blame me? I’m a woman. Placed like this are a perfect setting for a murder or worse, rape.’’ 
Immediately, the blond felt bad. ‘’I didn’t think about that… Shit. I’m sorry,’’ he apologized, his deep brown eyes softly looking at you. ‘’When I saw you in the penitentiary, I just knew I needed to take my chance and talk to you. ’’
A smile fought on your lips. ‘’Is this how you flirt with girls? By scaring the living hell out of them?’’ 
He shook his head. ‘’I’m not much of a flirt,’’ he explained, rubbing the back of his neck.
Another group of running kids came by, screaming and fleeing something they had just seen, making you think that you should get back to your friends. They must be searching for you and flooding your phone with worried texts. 
But you didn’t want to. 
 ‘’I-I’m Tate, by the way.’’ 
You gave him your name, then pulled him down for a kiss as the lights went out. Tate kissed you back, his hands pulling your body close to his as he gently pulled your lower lip with his teeth. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself running your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft, involuntary moan into the kiss. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, ignoring the drilling sound of the lobotomy tool and screamings nearby.  
When you paid for your entry ticket a few hours ago, you didn’t think you would end the night with the stranger in the skull makeup’s tongue in your mouth. But here you were, making out together in the middle of an attraction. 
‘’Come with me.’’ Tate took your hand and led you away from the main way of the penitentiary. 
You didn’t know where you were going, but you held on tight to his hand as he led you into the darkness. He’s been working here since opening night, he must know his way through the attraction.
Tate pulled one of the black curtains that opened the backstage area of the penitentiary where extra props, electricity chords and other stuff were hidden. 
‘’Is this where you’re planning to kill me and hide my body?’’ you joked, trusting him enough to make this kind of joke. 
He shook his head and pinned you against the wall, his latex covered chest pressing against you and moved his mouth to your ear. ‘’No,’’ he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. ‘’This is where I plan to make you cum.’’
No man had ever left you speechless until tonight, but you were too stunned to speak. You never expected such explicit words to come from his mouth. Not with sweet innocent eyes like his. 
Tate’s hand followed the path down the curves of your body, slow and teasing as arousal started to pool between your legs. He stopped at the hem of your skirt, pleased at your clothing choice for the night. It'll be less of a fuss to access where he wanted.
‘’Tate,’’ you gasped at the first graze of his fingers. 
He must be able to feel your wetness through the lace. He pressed the wet heat of your cunt into his hand, tearing a moan from you.
You would be embarrassed to be so wet already, but all that was on your mind was Tate's fingers rubbing against your folds through the thin fabric. His mouth had descended down your neck and jawline, gently kissing as he listened to the soft pleased sounds escaping your lips.
Screams and laughter came from the other side of the thin wall, drowning the sounds of your activities. If Tate’s boss knew what you were doing, he would get fired on the spot. 
Tate pushed your panties to the side, and then slid between your folds. ‘’I’ve been thinking about you — about doing this to you — since I saw you in the maze.’’ 
Your head fell back against the wall, images of that night, of him crawling across the maze to scare you flashed in your head as he teased your most sensitive flesh. It felt like a fucking dream, except you weren’t sleeping.
‘’Thought you looked pretty that night, but I bet you’re looking even prettier right now,’’ Tate said, wishing he could see you in better lighting. 
He lightly brushed your clit, then briefly dipped into your entrance before pulling away. 
‘’Please,’’ you begged, pushing your hips where you knew his hand was, and finally two of his thick fingers thrusted into your folds. 
Your inner muscles clenched around him, making Tate wish he wasn’t wearing that stupid latex suit so he could feel you clench around his cock. Instead, he’ll have to settle for this — getting you off. 
‘’When we get out of here, don’t think we’re done,’’ he said, moving his fingers in and out of you while his other hand came around your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes. ‘’The night is just getting started.’’ 
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark
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multific · 9 months
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His Follower
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Kai Anderson x Reader
Warning: Kidnapping, torture, blood, cults 
Summary: Being one of his followers had its moments, especially when his rival thinks they can just kidnap you.
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As they pulled the bag off of your head, you let out a groan.
"Well this is pleasant." you looked around the room, five men wearing ski masks stood in front of you as you were chained to a chair.
"You will answer our questions." one said in a distorted tone, he must be using some kind of device.
"Alright, the secret is a good shampoo and I do weekly conditioning masks on it." you said as everyone fell silent.
"What?" one of them finally spoke.
"My hair-care routine." this resulted in you getting a slap across your face.
"We know you are one of Anderson's followers, we want to know his plans." you looked at the mask of the man who just hit you.
"You won't be able to stop him, no one will because all of you are nothing but imitators. Powerless little insects." another slap.
"You whore, you will tell us everything or you will suffer."
"I do like it rough." you smirked.
You probably didn't like it this rough though. Also who could have thought they would stab you with a freaking screwdriver?!
You didn't even feel your thigh anymore as he pulled the damned thing out, you watched blood flow out of the wound.
You looked up at their leader.
"You will regret this."
"Why would I? You are just one of many, he doesn't care about you, Sweetheart. Or did you believe he did? I feel bad for you being so naive."
you started to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"I'm not his follower." even with the mask on you could see the confusion. "I'm his everything, his obsession, the reason he keeps on going. I'm his wife." and now you saw the panic.
These idiots really thought they would kidnap you, chain you to a chair, torture you and kill you without Kai even noticing.
"You picked the wrong one." you said just as the door burst open and people with clown masks filled the room.
Exhaustion suddenly took over as you no longer had to hold it. Then on top of it you were pretty sure you got shot, the pain in your shoulder was killing you.
You were in and out of consciousness. 
"Miss." you heard them say but you couldn't focus. You heard the chains being cut and you felt them move you.
Once you were in a car, you passed out.
---
You woke up in your own bed, feeling like shit, you heard the machine next to you beep to the beat of your heart.
You looked at the damn thing beeping away, the sound annoying you to no end.
You made a face before you felt your hand being touched, you turned and saw your husband smiling at you.
"Sweetheart." he said as you tried to sit up, your shoulder hurt like hell and so did your legs. "Don't move too much, you lost a lot of blood and you were shot in the shoulder."
"Wonderful..." you said as you closed your eyes for a moment.
"I dealt with them." you heard him say as you only let out a sound to acknowledge his statement.
"My shoulder feels like shit."
"You were shot, Darling, it is normal. I'm sorry."
"The fuckers took me from a parking lot! I had ice cream in there..."
"It was planned. Thankfully I found you in time."
"I know you watched the video of them taking me many times. They wanted info, they thought I was only a follower." he almost laughed at that.
"If anything you are the one telling me no."
"Well, they didn't know that." you looked back at him, opening your eyes. "Can you stop that thing? I'm alive, the beeping is making me crazy."
He stood up and went to the other side of the bed, turning the machine off before sitting down by your leg.
"I won't let this happen again, you will be with me at all times or you will have someone with you. I can't lose you." You lifted your hand and put his cheek into your palm, you offered him a weak smile.
"You won't. I'm too stubborn to die anyway, you know that. But I wouldn't mind spending more time with you. You have been busy lately with your plans." he nodded. "I don't blame you for this, if anything its your stupid men who shot me in the shoulder." he made a face at that.
"They told me it was the people who took you."
"They didn't have a gun." you replied and now Kai knew, he needed to have a talk and find just who shot his wife. "I love you. Thank you for saving me."
He didn't want to bring up the fact that he was the very reason you were taken. He can't let that eat him up from the inside. He will just try and move on.
But both of you knew, every time he will see your scars, they will be a reminder to him of his failure. 
Never again. He promised to himself and to you.
"I love you too." he said as he moved his head to kiss your palm.
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Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  
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Insomniac // Tate Langdon
request: not sure if i already requested this butttt could you write tate langdon x reader w insomnia like him js comforting you n holding you in bed as you cry from exhaustion n frustration from not being able to sleep - or som along those lines of reader w insomnia? 💛
prompts: none
summary: no matter what you try, you just can't seem to fall asleep. your boyfriend, tate, tries his best to comfort you.
warnings: not proofread
word count: 512
a/n: i know this is shorter than what i usually write, but i've had some difficulty with motivation so i figured that i would at least try! i'm gonna do my best to write more. even though they might not be as long, i promise i will still put the same amount of effort it!
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You groan in frustration as you roll onto your back, staring at the dark ceiling above you. It’s been hours of tossing and turning, hoping that you would eventually drift off to sleep. But the peaceful release of rest and dreams never came. It never does. Night after night you’d lie awake, wishing and praying to fall asleep for even a few minutes. Waiting and waiting for relief from this utter exhaustion that never seemed to come. 
Sometimes you were lucky, passing out from exhaustion after trying to fall asleep. You’d wake up in the morning still tired, but at least still able to function. However, with the way things were going tonight, it didn’t look like you were going to fall asleep anytime soon. You were completely drained, needing nothing more than a few hours of sleep. But despite how tired you were, you remained wide awake. And it just made you even more upset.
You sat up, reaching behind you to grab your pillow. Burying your face in it, you let out a frustrated scream. Before you realized it, tears were falling from your eyes. You clutched your pillow to your chest, sobbing in utter frustration and misery. Why were you like this? Why couldn’t you just fall asleep like everyone else did? Why did life feel the need to torture you so?
“Hey, what’s wrong? Why’re you crying?” a gentle voice from beside you said.
You didn’t even need to lift your head to know it was your boyfriend, Tate. You felt the bed dip beside you, a pair of comforting arms wrapping around you. He pulled the pillow out of your grip and you leaned against his chest, holding him tightly.
“Can’t sleep,” your voice muffled from your face being buried in his chest.
He frowned slightly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “Again? I’m sorry baby.”
You cried into his chest, all your pent up emotions spilling out. Tate didn’t mind. He didn’t say anything while you sobbed, just continuing to hold you as you let everything out. Your hands gripped the fabric of his sweater tightly, trying to ground yourself to him.
“Why am I like this? Why can’t I just fall asleep? It’s so easy for everyone else,” you whispered, voice shaking from your tears. 
“I don’t know, baby. I just wish I knew how to help you. It hurts me to see you suffer like this,” he replied, still holding you against him.
“You are helping, Tate. Just you being here helps. It makes me feel better. You make me feel better.”
He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The two of you sat there in silence, just savoring each other's embrace. Soon, your grip on him loosened and your eyes grew heavy. Tate smiled down at you lovingly. He leaned back, laying down on your bed, pulling you down to rest on his chest, being careful to not move you too much.
Soft snores started emanating from you as you finally found the blissful release of sleep in your boyfriend’s arms. 
tags: @jamespotterslover @ahsxual @twinkiemaximoff @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @thatspookyagent @shadyspears @amourtentiaa @rottenstyx @tates-radio @hallecarey1 @im-verysad @tatesxthumbring @imaloserbabysowhydontyourailme @evilcr0ne @hocksetters @milly-louise @slut4kaiya @larawrrites
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7-wonders · 4 months
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After
Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XIII)
Summary: What comes next?
Word Count: 6.6k (haha ironic)
A note from the author: Is this my best work? No, absolutely not. But I needed to get from Point A to Point B somehow, and I also wanted to show how we got there. Anyways, hope you enjoy, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.
Content warnings for this chapter include mentions of death, thoughts of suicide, and graphic depictions of the apocalypse/end of the world. Reader discretion is advised.
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Mad Love masterlist
One day after
Death is no stranger to you.
You’ve met a few unlucky times in your life and felt the devastation they bring with them when they come knocking every time. Tears have been shed, and mourning has been done, and eulogies have been listened to from the pews. Each time is just as tragic, and each time, you wish to never see death again.
So yes, you are unfortunately familiar with death. What you are not familiar with is the carnage, the totality, that death has ushered in now. Never before have you lost everyone you ever cared about in one fell swoop. Never before has the vast majority of humanity been annihilated with the press of a few buttons. That is a totally new level to the death you thought you knew.
You don’t remember moving to a bed after Michael had revealed to you that this was “his” plan at work. You don’t even remember seeing a bed when you were first deposited here by the Cooperative. But this must have happened, for when you come out of the daze you’ve fallen into after realizing that the apocalypse was real and that everyone was truly dead, you’re lying on top of the covers of a bed. The room in which the bed sits is just as sparsely furnished as the room you originally arrived in. It’s reminiscent of a hotel, and you get the feeling that this is not where you’re meant to be staying for very long.
There are curtains on the wall next to the bed, and curiosity begins to eat at you. Will you see a nuclear wasteland outside the window, some terrible and barren landscape? Or maybe this was all just a sick and twisted dream, and you actually are in a hotel somewhere safe. Sitting up, you pull back the fabric to reveal nothing but the wall. They merely hang for a sense of normalcy, you realize. Your hopes fall along with you as you crash back against the mattress.
It was all real, then. The sirens and the running for your life, being forcefully taken and having to feel as nukes were dropped onto the Earth’s surface. The world ended, thanks solely to the man that you love (loved? Where do you stand now?), and you were saved for no reason other than you being said man’s wife. Your stomach starts to churn the more you dwell on this cruel twist of fate.
Before you can feel sick enough to warrant needing to find a bathroom, someone knocks quietly, and you turn your head toward the sound in anticipation of the visitor. The door cracks open, and Michael sneaks inside. He’s silhouetted by the light of the living room, but you can still see the fond smile he sports.
“Hi,” he whispers, as though worried you might be asleep even though you’re staring at each other. “How are you feeling?”
Did he seriously just ask you that? You want to snap at him, to yell and ask how he thinks you’re feeling, but the fight has leached out of you and been replaced with a heavy exhaustion. You couldn’t come up with something to get your true feelings across even if you tried. So, you don’t try. Instead, you shrug.
“That’s alright. I have a surprise for you.”
“I’m a little scared to see what your idea of a surprise is after today.” Your voice sounds hoarse, both from the strength of your earlier cries and how long it’s presumably been since you last used it. 
“It’s a good one, I promise.” 
He ducks out before quickly returning, holding a lump in his arms. You stare at it curiously, and Michael shifts. Your cat jumps out of his arms and onto the bed, padding across the mattress until she reaches you.
You blink owlishly in disbelief, slowly reaching a hand out until it lands in her soft fur. Fur that feels so real under your touch. She is real. She’s here and safe and in front of you. Both hands land in her fur now, one scratching the top of her head, and she begins to purr in contentment.
Michael chuckles at the sight, and you remember that you’re not alone. It takes you a moment to remember how to speak once you look up at him. “You…you saved her?”
“Of course,” he says like it’s the most obvious decision in the world. “She’s like our child—I would never leave her behind!”
You try to hold it in, you swear. But once you start laughing, you can’t stop. It’s a hysterical laugh, the type that can be confused with sobbing, the two sound so similar. Maybe you are sobbing a bit, and the tears falling down your face aren’t just from laughter. The situation is just so ridiculous, though, that laughter is really the only reaction you can think of.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Michael, you just ended the fucking world,” you gasp out in the pockets between laughs. “You killed billions of people, but you stopped to grab our cat before you did?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Michael begins to laugh as well, likely just because you are, and for a moment, things feel almost normal. Then you stop to catch your breath, and reality sets in once more.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand your priorities again.” 
“My priorities are simple, and they’re the same as they’ve always been. To make my father proud, to create a new world for us, and to love you the way you deserve.” At that last part, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Revulsion creeps up your spine, and you gently pull your hand away from him.
“I’m tired,” you say. This isn’t a lie—you are tired, just…tired of him, and tired of your current reality. You sink further under the blankets while gathering the cat in your arms and pulling her under to snuggle with you; something that she’s more than happy to do.
“Okay. I have more work that I have to do,” he rolls his eyes as though dealing with the logistics of a post-apocalyptic world is a nuisance, “so I’ll be a little bit longer. I’ll make some dinner when you wake up. Does that sound good?”
You hope your smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels. “Yeah.”
Michael kisses the top of your head. “I love you.”
Luckily, his phone chimes (wait, his phone still works? You’ll have to ask about that later) before he can wait for you to say it back.
One week after
It takes approximately one week for the radiation levels post-nuclear apocalypse to fall just enough that the Cooperative, with all of its tools and technologies, is able to travel safely.
You spend most of it curled up under the covers, trying desperately to sleep and wake up to a world prior to the end. Every time you open your eyes to your reality, you’re let down once more.
Considering he’s the source of your misery and also increasingly unhinged, Michael is surprisingly sympathetic to your grief. And though you want to push him away, to scream at him that you think he’s evil and that you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to love him again knowing what he’s done, you’re also very, very sad.
Actually, sad feels like too light of a word. You’re heartbroken. Your entire life has collapsed in front of you, burned to ashes, and you’re left adrift. The only familiarity, the only link back to a time that feels like so long ago, is Michael. You forgive yourself as you fall apart in his arms time and time again, clutching onto him as one clutches onto a life preserver while you cry and scream.
You’re once again in his arms when you jolt awake with a loud gasp, fear coursing through your veins and the memory of your friends and family screaming in agony as they were killed fresh in your mind. Michael tightens his grip around you, threading his fingers through yours as you squeeze his hand to remind yourself that you’re not sleeping anymore. As you come to the realization that it was just a dream, you’re hoping that you’ll open your eyes and be back in your bed—not just a bed, but your bed in the manor you shared with Michael. Looking up, you see the metallic gray roof of the armored, impenetrable Cooperative vehicle that’s taking you to the Sanctuary, and not your bedroom ceiling. 
Disappointment curls in your stomach, and you tuck your head into Michael’s chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, even though he knows the answer. Your bad dreams are increasingly common and are by now a nightly occurrence.
Regardless, you tell him. “I had a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry.” This isn’t a new routine for either of you. Though it’s been only a week, every single time you go to sleep, you’re tortured with these nightmares. You almost dread falling asleep now, but your body seems to use sleep as a protective response to the fear you’re constantly dealing with.
You look up at him. “I think the worst part is that, when I have these nightmares, I wake up right into another one, one that I can’t wake from.”
“What do you mean?”
“I see those that I love dying, over and over again. And then I wake up, and they’re still dead. Everyone is, and it’s because you killed them.”
“I did.” There’s no remorse in his voice, nothing to say that he’s sorry for what he’s done. You know that he’s not, but you still want to force him to be faced with the reality of what he’s done. For some reason, you still believe that he’ll come to his senses eventually and that he’ll wake up one day horrified by the devastation he’s wrought.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you,” you admit.
“Give it time.”
You don’t say that all the time in the world won’t matter, that you’ll hold this anger and pain and distrust with you until your very last days. Instead, you pose a question. “Would you let me die?”
Michael looks down at you in alarm. “What?”
“You always say that you’ll do anything for me. If I told you I wanted to die, to be with those you killed, would you let me?”
“No.” He pulls you up from where you’re leaning against him so that he can look you in the eyes. Panic is evident on his face, and a sick part of you enjoys it. “No. Why would you even ask something like that?”
Why wouldn’t you? How are you supposed to see yourself going on with everybody gone? Alone in a post-apocalyptic hellscape with the Antichrist? The thought of suicide, of killing yourself to get out of this nightmare and be reunited with your loved ones, has crossed your mind more times than you’d care to admit in the short week since the end of the world.
You know that you can’t, though. You’ve seen Michael’s power at work, and you’ve heard all about the Seven Wonders, both from Mallory and Michael. If you kill yourself, Michael will just use Vitalum Vitalis to bring you back. You’ll never be able to escape him, the monster that is your husband, even in death.
You shrug. “I just wanted to make sure, even though I knew the answer.”
“You’re my wife, my person. I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Guess you won’t have to find out,” you mutter bitterly. 
Instead of answering, Michael puts a hand under your chin and pulls you up to look at him. He kisses you softly on your lips. You want to turn away, truly. Shove him away and declare that your marriage is nothing but a farce now. But muscle memory is a funny thing. Your lips work against his, and even your heart stutters that old, familiar staccato. Your body still holds the memory of your love for him, even if your mind rebels against that. 
“I love you,” he says once more, leaning his forehead against yours.
You don’t say it back, and he doesn’t call you out on it. 
The vehicle shudders to a stop, and Michael peers out through the window. You’ve refused to do the same this entire trip, not wanting to see the barren wasteland you know is outside. After a moment, you start moving again, into a garage much smaller than the one from a week ago. Instead of getting out and going into an elevator, the car itself begins to descend down, down, down.
Michael barely waits for the elevator to stop and for the car to pull into a large, underground chamber before he opens the door and bounds out. He looks around proudly, then turns to you with a grin.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
You’re not, but you nod nonetheless and take Michael’s outstretched hand.
“Home sweet home!”
One month after
The Sanctuary is…nice, you suppose, if you were asked to be completely objective about it. The compound is huge. There are nine different “levels,” because why wouldn’t there be symbolism when it was built by and for the Antichrist? With how deep underground you are, it almost feels like you’ve descended into Hell. You wouldn’t even be surprised if that were the case.
All the stops were pulled out for this project, and no expense was spared. Scientists and engineers and the world’s best and brightest had come together (whether they knew what they were working on or not) to create the technology that would allow the Sanctuary to be self-sustainable. There was plenty of room for new arrivals—though Michael had used the Outposts as a way to get rich fucks to finance the end of the world and had plans on killing them, there were still plenty of survivors who were chosen due to their exceptional genetic makeup, those who would be creating the next generation. Plenty more were important to the “rebuilding of the new world,” and more still were religious fanatics who happily served their lord and his kingdom.
People enjoyed their new lives, for the most part. The devout were more than happy to be in the presence of their savior every day, the Cooperative and their families enjoyed continuing their luxurious lives, and the lucky ones were just thrilled to still be alive. There was always something to do, and everybody had a role to play to keep the Sanctuary running and functioning (everybody except the richest of the rich, but that’s par for the course). Life had moved on, and survivors created a home here.
All except for you. No matter how much Michael tried to make your quarters like they were—it’s almost an exact copy of your former home, and it’s still just as creepy as it was the day that you arrived—it doesn’t feel like home, and it never will. You miss your home, in all its familiarity. The creaky stair on the way up, the house staff that you knew on a first-name basis (you had gotten them all Christmas gifts, and now they would never receive them), and the back of the couch that was a little wobbly from where you fell into it when you and your friends had your last sleepover are just a few of the mementos that you long for every time you wander the halls of your new home.
While everybody else has been finding a new normal in the month since the world ended, what you’ve found is time. Time to think, and rage, and for the grief that’s been swallowing you to subside enough that you can finally focus and think about your situation and what to do now.
What’s become clear is that you can’t give up, no matter how much you want to. So many hours of this first month have been lost to tears and wishes that you could be with those you love instead of in this hell on Earth. So you can’t die yet! What you can do, however, is make Michael’s life miserable.
Since one of Michael’s favorite things in life is, well, you, you’ve decided that you’ll deprive him of that favorite thing. Your method? The silent treatment, which has been going on for basically the entire time that you’ve been at the Sanctuary. Beyond answering questions that need to be answered with the most basic of responses (“yes,” “no,” “I don’t know”), you haven’t talked to him. No in-depth conversations about random topics, no idle chitchat, nothing. It drives him absolutely nuts, and you’re reminded of another person that you once drove nuts with the same silent treatment.
(Oh, Mallory. You still can’t think about her, or any of your loved ones, without crying, and so you try your hardest not to. What you wouldn’t give to be able to give her the silent treatment once more, even if it meant you were kidnapped by Cordelia Goode once more!)
To really hammer home the point that you’re not pleased about any of this and are not just going to roll over and take it, you also attempt to make yourself scarce whenever he’s around. There are plenty of rooms in your “house” that Michael doesn’t bother to check—you’ve made one of the guest rooms into your hideout, and it’s actually very comfy—and you’ve gotten really good at hearing him coming so that you can disappear. You suppose the one nice thing about your house being copied at the Sanctuary is that you still both have separate bedrooms. Where you once loathed to sleep apart from him, now, you crave it.
The best part of this is that you know that Michael’s insanely frustrated. He had an entire vision for how your life post-apocalypse would be, one that involved the two of you in that same honeymoon phase you had found yourselves in before visiting New Orleans. Whereas you had imagined your perfect future as you and he exploring the world, he saw your perfect future as the two of you becoming bloodthirsty monarchs over a world that was yours to mold however you saw fit.
Fat chance.
You can only keep avoiding him for so long, and it appears that tonight is where your luck runs out. You’re sitting in the kitchen and reading, waiting for the timer to go off on the oven—truly nothing really changed about life, except for the fact that it was now underground. You were still able to enjoy frozen pizzas, even! Since Michael’s usually still off doing whatever it is Antichrists do at the Sanctuary at this time, you let your guard down. Your mistake.
He grins when he sees you sitting at the counter, pleased that he finally caught you. “I was hoping to find you.”
Sneakily, he tries to duck in and steal a kiss. You’re quicker than he is, though, and you turn your face at the last moment so that he’s only able to catch your cheek. Frowning slightly, he straightens back up.
“There’s a dinner tonight being hosted by people that aren’t insufferable.” Michael waits for you to answer, to show any sign of hearing him, even though he knows that you won’t break. “I think it’ll be fun, and a good way to meet some new people.”
“Enjoy yourself,” you murmur, keeping your eyes fixed on the book in your hands.
“Come on, won’t you please join me? There’s so much here that I want to do with you.” He tries to take your hand, but you pull away before he can. Hurt, raw and unfiltered, crosses his face. “Why are you ignoring me? I hate this, this isn’t you.”
You scoff. He’s one to talk about sudden personality changes. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“Told me what?”
“Before you ended the world, I told you that I wouldn’t be able to stand by you. That you would lose me. I wasn’t lying.”
Michael groans. “You still don’t understand! I had to, it’s my destiny and—”
“Oh, I believe that you believe that. But it still doesn’t justify your actions, and it still doesn’t change what I said.” You finally meet his eyes. “Physically, publicly, I will play the role of your wife when I am forced to. I’ll stand by your side and wave and shake hands and pretend like we’re a happy couple. Emotionally? When we’re alone? You get nothing. You should consider yourself lucky that I’m even talking to you now.”
His eyes go dark. Not the dark, pure black of the demon that lives inside of him, but dark with a rage you’ve never had directed towards you before. “Is that right? You want to wage this battle against me, the monster you’ve created in your head?”
You stare at him defiantly, refusing to cower now.
“Baby, my love, the one to whom my soul belongs.” Michael showers you with pet names in the hopes that it pisses you off, which it does. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for us. And I’ll continue to do so, no matter how much you hate me for it. You’ll be grateful one day, even if I have to force you to see it.”
His threat has you recoiling, but not because it scares you. No, it’s because this new Michael now follows through on said threats. “Fuck you, Michael. I hate you.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He smirks, before walking over to the oven and turning it off.
“Hey!”
“You said that I have to force you to play the role of my wife. Well, I’m forcing you. Get ready. We’re having dinner with some people tonight.”
You’ll be honest, you weren’t expecting him to make good on what you said. If you weren’t so blindingly angry, you’d almost be impressed. Glowering, you slam your book closed, screech your stool across the floor as you shove it away from the island, and stomp away. Since he’s going to force you to do this, you’re going to voice your displeasure as loudly as you can, even if it means throwing a tantrum.
Michael smiles as he watches you, calling out, “We’re going to have so much fun!”
For some reason, you don’t believe that.
One year after
There’s a party tonight. A celebration, it’s been billed as. One year since the end, and one year since the beginning of what would become the “new world.”
In the past year, there have been so many changes in your life. But there’s been no bigger change than the one that Michael’s undergone. His hair’s grown longer, with the perfect blond waves falling to just past his shoulders. He’s learned how to do makeup, and he’s started painting red on his inner crease to make himself look more dramatic and intimidating. He’s also grown extremely confident, almost cocky. The world is his now, and he has the bravado to back it up.
You can’t help but think back to when he started to change, the drastic shift in personality after that fateful meeting with Papa Legba in New Orleans. The memory of those last, golden days before everything went to shit is one that you remember often and fondly. If there’s a day where you’re feeling extra masochistic, you’ll force yourself to remember that last date, and how Michael’s eyes shone with joy as he held a firefly in his hands for the first time. When you and Michael were just enjoying being together and making plans for the future. When there still was a future. By now you would have graduated college, and likely would have moved somewhere else to attend graduate school. Secretly, you had been leaning towards the East Coast; you were so excited to watch Michael experience snow for the first time. 
It makes you miss the Michael you once knew, the Michael that you loved. This new Michael feels so unfamiliar, it seems like you’re living in “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” At least you were able to pretend like it was your Michael when he still looked like himself. Now, there’s no fooling yourself.
Even though you live with a stranger now, you still see shades of that Michael in this one. You still love this Michael, even though you wish with all your being that you didn’t. Oh, you remain furious with him—you always will, probably. But apparently, the whole “soulmates” thing wasn’t bullshit. Despite your best wishes and attempts, you love Michael Langdon.
(Not that he needs to know that. No, you’ll tap into all that hatred whenever you’re near him.)
Though you wish that you were spending today in solitude, so that you can cry without anybody seeing and mourn in your own way, Michael has other plans. He hasn’t backed off on forcing you to play the part of his wife in public. He brings you to events, dinners, parties, and walks through the Sanctuary. The whole time, you’re holding his hand, smiling, and acting like you’re interested in whatever drivel is being discussed by those you’re surrounded with.
In private is a different story. You avoid him, and he gives you your space. You suppose it’s nicer this way; at least now you don’t have to be sneaky and hide any longer. There’s only one time that you let him touch you, and it’s the time that you’re most ashamed.
About six months after the end of the world, your constant fighting with Michael came to a head. You were both furious with each other (only yours was justified) about the same things that you’re always furious about. At some point, as you got in each other’s faces, you stopped yelling and started kissing. It was then that you discovered: hate sex is the best sex. And hate sex with Michael? That’s on a whole other level. 
You’re obviously not proud of this. But it’s a whole new world, you try to reassure yourself when you try to sleep at night, and it’s not as though any of this is out of love. Things are complicated, and you’re trying to forge a new path in life. So if you fuck your husband out of anger a couple of times? Well, you hope Mallory and Kate are cheering you on in the afterlife as you draw blood scratching down Michael’s back. 
Presently, you allow the Cooperative stylists to make you over for the “celebration” that you couldn’t get out of even if you tried. To the inhabitants of the Sanctuary, you’re simply the Antichrist’s wife. What’s the point of trying to prove to them that you’re more than that? you’re reminded of the first time you found yourself in this situation, a whole lifetime ago. How nervous you were. Back then, you fought so hard to not wear the typical Cooperative color scheme. “I want to be me,” you had said. Now, you don’t put up any sort of fight as you’re helped into a black, floor-length gown with off-shoulder straps. It’s not as if you really care anymore. Your entire identity post-apocalypse has been reduced to “Antichrist’s wife”, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
You don’t hear Michael enter the room. Instead, you see the stylists bow and curtsy before promptly filing out, and you know that he’s here. Rather than look at him (or roll your eyes), you stare at yourself in the mirror and pretend to wipe away an errant eyelash. You hate Michael’s insistence on everybody treating you and him like royalty. You never wanted to be a queen, and you certainly don’t relish the position now. 
Michael leans on the wall next to the mirror, watching you with a soft smile on his face. Since your emotions are already fried today, you don’t bother risking a fight by ignoring him. When you look at him, his smile widens into a grin, and you yet again catch a glimpse of the Michael that you once knew and loved. It makes your heart clench, and you swallow harshly.
“You look lovely,” Michael says, kissing the corner of your mouth so as not to smear the lipstick that the (admittedly talented) Satanist makeup artist applied.
“Thank you. Are we running late?” You hope that’s the case; you’d love to keep everybody waiting as long as possible, simply out of spite.
Michael checks his watch (yet another thing you don’t understand—how the Cooperative has managed to keep to the traditional format of keeping time) and shakes his head. “Only fashionably, not that it matters. We’re the guests of honor, of course.”
“Goody,” you say dryly.
“Are you not excited for tonight? It’s a party!” He grabs your hand, pulling you to him and swaying with you. “We can even dance. You love dancing.”
Correction: you used to love dancing. 
You shrug out of his embrace and move to put on your (pre-approved) shoes. “I don’t feel like dancing tonight.”
“But we’re celebrating!”
“Celebrating what?” 
The flimsy dam that you had built up to hold your feelings back upon waking up this morning bursts, and nothing can hold you back now. 
“How could I dance on a day like today? The day that everybody died, the day that I became an orphan, the day that I lost all of my friends and family. I mourn today, I dreaded today.” Tears prick at your eyes, and you roll them toward the ceiling to keep them from falling.
“I understand,” Michael says, coming up behind you and placing a large hand on your shoulder. 
 “Oh, you do?” 
Though you inject a healthy dose of sarcasm into your voice, it seems lost on Michael. “I lost people that I cared for, too.” 
He’s right. It had only been a couple of months, but Michael had gotten close with the group that he started playing video games with. Before the blast, you could confidently say that Brennan and his fraternity brothers, Matteo and Jack, were Michael’s friends. He was even friendly with Kate, and cordial with Mallory.
(You thought that time would help to make the absence of your best friends more palatable. If anything, time has done nothing but make that loss so much more bitter. They’re with you in everything you do, and in everything you do, you think about what they would be saying and how they would be reacting. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, that you’re imagining your dead best friends. But there are no therapists to tell you it’s unhealthy, so until that day, you’re going to keep doing it.)
“You don’t mourn for them, though,” you point out.
“Their deaths served a purpose,” he parrots that old, familiar line.
“Michael,” you snap, so sick of hearing it over and over again.
“What?”
He sounds just as frustrated as you, and by now, you know what’s coming when your tones match in this way. You still don’t have it in you to fight today, so instead, you close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. Once you safely feel like you won’t blow up at him, you look at him once more. “Nothing. Let’s just go. Your kingdom is waiting, after all.”
He smiles triumphantly. “Our kingdom.”
Because that’s where the issue lies, doesn’t it? He’s proud of all of this—the pain and devastation he’s wrought, the annihilation of the world that everybody once knew. There are no regrets from him, even knowing the individuals that he’s killed. The blood of seven billion people is on his hands, and he loves it.
Michael holds out his arm for you to take, but you refuse, instead marching side-by-side with him. It’s only when you reach the doors to the ballroom that you begrudgingly slip your hand around his bicep. The roaring of the crowd, full of Satanists and members of the Cooperative and those who were lucky enough to make it in, greets you and Michael as you enter the main ballroom.
You’re surrounded by people, but you’ve never felt more alone.
Eighteen months after
After going into the Sanctuary, you honestly expected to be stuck there, underground, for at least five years. Nuclear science admittedly wasn’t your strong point, but you knew enough about radioactive half-lives to know that it wouldn’t be safe enough to be above ground for a long time.
But you forgot about who your husband is, and what his plans post-apocalypse were.
Michael had never been shy about the fact that the Outposts were simply a means to an end. He needed the end of the world financed, and he also needed central locations to quickly get the survivors worth saving to, even if they were far away from the Sanctuary. Hence the creation of the Outposts. What to do about those that populated the Outposts, though?
As Michael had explained it to you the one time you felt brave enough to ask, that was where the fun began. He would arrive at each under the guise of being a Cooperative member tasked with deciding who was worthy of coming to the Sanctuary. After teasing the survivors, playing mind games with them, and pitting them against each other for a few days ( “Sowing chaos,” he gleefully called it), he would extract the survivors with optimal genetics and leave the rest to die. Sometimes he would let them kill each other, other times he would leave them to starve, and a couple of times he planned on killing them himself. His newfound bloodlust made you shiver in fear, and you dropped the conversation.
Shortly after the anniversary celebration, Michael decided that it was the perfect time to start on this next phase of world domination. He would leave the Sanctuary, traversing the globe to each and every Outpost until all were emptied of any signs of life. It was almost like a business trip, you thought, if business trips involved mass murder.
The thought of Michael, the perennial thorn in your side, finally leaving for extended periods of time should have filled you with joy. You would finally be free of him, at least for a bit. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to be left alone. The Sanctuary still didn’t feel like home, and Michael was really the only person that you knew. He was the only constant, and being on your own in a place that was still frightening and unfamiliar was not something that appealed to you. It was surprising that you felt this way, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. After all, survivors band together, even if one of the survivors caused all of this mayhem.
Michael seemed just as surprised when you asked if you could accompany him to a few of the Outposts, but he was still happy to accommodate your request. Even though he knew the reason—his powers had also grown immensely in the past eighteen months, and he could read everyone’s minds with ease now—he still saw this as a way to spend quality time with you. While you wouldn’t necessarily agree, you would still be spending the most time with him since before the bombs dropped, and he counted that as a win.
You had visited three Outposts with Michael, choosing which ones you went to. Since you certainly didn’t enjoy watching Michael play with his prey before slaughtering all but those whose genetic material ensured a bountiful next generation, you only went when Michael would be gone for a particularly long time or you were feeling extra stir-crazy. It was a luxury that nobody else had, getting to choose when to stay or go, and you pushed down feelings of guilt every time you were given the choice.
Things were different, you constantly reminded yourself when thinking of this, or about how the you of eighteen months ago would be horrified at the thought of being okay with Michael committing murders. You are still horrified by the murders, and the ease with which Michael performs them. But over time, you’ve become almost desensitized to it. Everybody had to do shameful things to survive now, including you. 
You weren’t originally planning to join Michael on his visit to the last untouched Outpost. It was less than 100 miles away from the Sanctuary, which meant that Michael would be gone a week at most. Since the Outpost 9 trip was almost three weeks long (it was all the way in what used to be Spain, which meant an extra difficult transmutation for you, who still has not gotten used to this mode of traveling), you were happy to spend an extended amount of time back at “home.” But Michael insisted that you come with him, promising you that it was only a week-long trip, if that. Though you were confused, you still acquiesced. It was only when you were on the road—Michael wanted to take a carriage for this trip, which should have been your first clue that this was no ordinary Outpost—that he revealed why he wanted you with him.
Outpost 3 was built in what used to be Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, and it absolutely wasn’t a coincidence. Michael was openly cheerful when explaining that this was his plan all along, and that he always intended for Outpost 3 to be the last stop on this journey. You don’t pretend to understand his motives anymore. On another, non-evil level, he was excited to show you the school that had played such a formative part in his accelerated adolescence. Another glimpse of the Michael that you used to love, though these glimpses get fewer and farther in between the more time passes.
The plague doctor getup you’re forced to wear upon venturing aboveground is happily removed when you enter the decontamination pod in Outpost 3. 
“Would you like to come with me to meet our hostess?”
Well, it’s better than being stuck in your temporary lodging. “Absolutely.”
You’re greeted by a woman wearing all black, just as you and Michael do. Michael always wears black now, but the point of your matching black wardrobes is to make you look like regular Cooperative officers when you enter the Outposts. The only splash of color is her hair, which is a bright orange. Her hands tighten around the top of a can as she watches you enter the office that she will soon find out is being commandeered by Michael. She smiles, but it’s a haughty, smug smile.
“Wilhelmina Venable,” she introduces herself as. “I’m in charge here.”
From beside you, Michael tilts his head teasingly. His game begins immediately upon first contact, and you just stand back to watch. “Of course you are.”
“You don’t sound like you believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He plays his part well, you have to admit. “Seems like you’ve done a wonderful job. The walls are still standing, your people are alive and healthy, which is…quite a feat, considering.”
He’s baiting her, but, predictably, she bites. “Considering?”
“That three more Outposts have been overrun, and the remaining three won't last through the year.”
“Why are you here?”
You zone out a little bit during the well-practiced rigamarole that Michael whips out during every introduction with the Outpost leaders. It’s tedious at this point, and they all react the same. Shock, revulsion, disbelief. It’s only when he grabs your hand that you fall back into the part that’s expected of you.
“I could take all of you…or none of you. Those who make it live. Those who don’t…” Michael smiles serenely. “End up like our horses.”
//
Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @aftertheglitterfades @iamlivingforturner @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff
(I really don't know why I still do a tag list. Habit, I suppose.)
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stayevildarling · 2 months
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bonjour :) can I request some of this prompts for a story? with any of them (cordelia, billie, wilhemina or ally) I like your multiple character fics too
❛ i’m not going anywhere. ❜
❛ is there anything i can do to help? ❜
❛ i don’t even recognize you anymore.
❛ can’t sleep? ❜
❛ it’s just a scratch, don’t worry. ❜
tyyy <3
Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader - Falling
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A/N: thank you to whoever sent this to me. I'm not too sure if its angsty enough but the prompts actually hit close to home. the fall is also inspired by me actually falling over at work the other day and afterwards looking like I got into a fight 😂
word count: 3.8k
tw: very mild mention of blood, insomnia, angst, slight arguing
taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajellyy, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime
The moon hangs high in the sky, casting it's silver-white light through the windows and onto the bed where you lay, warmth surrounding you in the form of your lovers, Delia, Billie and Mina. Despite the usual comfort and warmth this scene would give you, sleep continues to be a stranger, slipping through your fingers.
Cordelia shifts beside you slightly, her voice breaking the silence of the night. ,,Sweetheart, why are you awake?'' she asks softly, her voice filled with concern. Her soft hands reach out to brush a strand of hair from your face. You return her gesture by smiling softly, hoping this will cause the concern to fade from her beautiful features.
,,I'm okay Delia, just woke up for a second'' you whisper, trying your best to mask what's been going on. Cordelia's brow furrows with worry, but she doesn't press the subject further, instead pulling you closer to her in an a comforting embrace. You close your eyes in return, grateful for her presence, even if it couldn't chase away the shadows that had haunted your mind lately.
As the night stretches on, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts and worries that refused to be silenced. Despite your best efforts to find comfort in the arms of your lovers, sleep remained a stranger to you, leaving you tired and drained.
The following night, plays out the exact same way. You would be wrapped up in between your lovers, taking turns between cuddling into two blondes or your redhead lover. Lately your days had been exactly the same. Unable to sleep, you would be the first one out of bed, getting ready for your day ahead, helping around the academy by preparing things for teaching or helping your lovers out in any way you can, a small price to repay for all of the things they had done for you in the past. Throughout the day they would be busy, Wilhemina working in her office remotely for the company she works for. Billie would be in meetings either online or travel to them for her show. Filming only happening in certain months, while Cordelia looked after the academy. This contained teaching, council meetings and making sure the girls are looked after. Despite having your own work and shifts, you would help out wherever you can. Eventually the four of you would have dinner, liking the ritual of it being spent in the presence of each other.
The evenings looked a little different each day, sometimes board game nights, sometimes movie nights and sometimes just the familiar picture of snuggling on the sofa, Mina knitting or reading, Billie on her phone and Delia doing some work on her laptop or watching the tv. You would eventually all go to bed together, sometimes spending hours of quality time and sometimes quiet nights, where the three of them would quickly fall asleep due to their demanding careers. Tonight was no different, the three of them worked hard, before they all relaxed in the living room by the fireplace together with you.
As you again toss and turn, you eventually grow frustrated and leave the bedroom as quietly as possible, before sneaking off to the garden and having a smoke. Cordelia and Wilhemina hated the habit but Billie didn't exactly help you and only fed into your addiction. As you exhale the smoke, you look up to the sky, admiring the view of a clear moon and some stars. After returning a while later, you turn around only to see Billie looking at you with a cheeky smile.
,,Did you just sneak out for a smoke without me?'' she teases, her playful nature a nice change to the loneliness of the night. She arches an eyebrow, a playful smirk still on her lips. You can't help but chuckle. ,,No'' you smile and do that little head tilt which she knows means you are lying.
Her laughter fills the room a little, easing the tension in the air. She cups your cheeks gently, her other hand trailing off to your scalp, giving you little scratches with her nails. ,,Well if you ever need a smoking buddy, you know where to find me'' she smirks before pulling you into a tight embrace. For a moment, the weight of sleepiness lifted with Billie's words, the warmth of her affection. But as the night wears on, you long for sleeping yet again.
The third night, brings Wilhemina's quiet concern, her gentle touch soothing to the ache in your heart. As you lay awake, lost in thoughts, her hand finds yours in the darkness, a silent gesture of love and understanding.
,,Can't sleep, little one?'' the redheads voice is soft, filled with concern as she squeezes your hand gently, her eyes searching yours for answers, despite the darkness.
You swallow the lump in your throat, struggling to find the words to explain and having learnt by now to work things out on your own. ,,It's nothing really...'' you finally speak but the answer isn't sufficient for Wilhemina and by her reaction you can tell.
,,Is there anything I can do to help?'' she asks, her brow furrows with concern, her gaze never leaving yours. She reaches out to brush a tear from your cheek. ,,You don't have to do this alone, little one'' she gently whispers into your ear.
For a moment the walls around your heart crumble, her words so full of reassurance and warmth. It makes you melt, knowing Wilhemina struggled with her own emotions but never how to take care of yours or your other two lovers. A flood of emotions washes over you and in response you cling onto her hand, grateful for her support. ,,Turn around little one'' she whispers gently before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You comply of course and before you know it, you feel her arms wrap around you, holding you close. As she knows her little one loves being spooned.
As the hours stretched on, you still couldn't sleep a wink but the comfort of being in Wilhemina's arms, at least pushed the worries and heartache away for now.
The days slowly turned into a week, still sleep remained a distant dream and insomnia has been slowly catching up on you. It was a Thursday afternoon, your workday finally coming to an end. The thought of driving home to your lovers, gives you great comfort and causes you to smile as you walk towards your car.
Suddenly, your feet betray you and you trip, trying to not fall over, you try and balance yourself but your body not stable enough to keep you up. As your face makes contact with the floor, your hands at least preventing further injuries, you lay there for a second, feeling both defeated and dizzy. Little stars blur your vision momentarily. For a good second you consider just staying there, waiting for sleep or someone to eventually find you, however you decide against it, making your way over to your car, having a sip of water until the dizzy spell slowly fades.
As you start the car you notice your knuckles and hands bleeding but carry on heading towards home, not being in the mood to even deal with it right away. After a while you finally make it home, just wanting to hide away after the day you have had. With trembling hands you enter through the front door, hoping the three of them would still be occupied with work, so you could clean yourself up without further questioning or concern. However your plan quickly comes to a stop as the three of them wait for you in the kitchen, being able to tell by the smell that Delia had cooked and seeing them wait so patiently and excitedly makes your heart melt a little.
Delia gets up to greet you first, taking your bag for you and setting it aside before greeting you by pulling you into a hug. As you enter the kitchen, you try your best to hide your trembling and bleeding hands but as Billie equally pulls you into a hug, Wilhemina instantly stares in horror at your hands.
,,Y/N? What is that?'' she questions sternly, concern lacing in her voice. Cordelia stops serving the food, before walking over and taking your hands into her own. ,,Sweetheart what happened?'' she asks softly, instantly ushering you to the sink, to tend to your wounds. Billie walks over, taking one look at your hands before her eyebrows furrow ,,Did you get in a fight babydoll?'' she asks, usually a joke would have followed the question but your serious expression and trembling, leaves no room for her jokes.
Cordelia hooks your chin, making your eyes meet hers. ,,Darling, this will sting but I don't want it to get infected alright?'' you simply nod. You discard your gaze and look out the window, feeling embarassed that they have seen it in the first place. After Cordelia finishes cleaning and tending to your wounds, she kisses them gently and after the trembling stops, she suggests for you to get changed before dinner.
,,Something is going on'' Wilhemina states after giving it enough time for you to make it up the stairs. Her voice laced with concern, her features stern.
,,She wouldn't have gotten into a fight, that's not like her'' Cordelia softly suggests to calm her lover down but her voice and features betraying her.
,,Let's just talk to her'' Billie softly suggests as she hears you enter the kitchen.
Nervously, you take a seat next to Billie. Cordelia hovering nearby, her eyes filled with concern and empathy as she serves dinner. The room is deadly quiet. The only noises being heard, the cutlery moving across the plates.
,,So what happened babydoll?'' Billie asks softly, giving you a comforting yet reassuring smile.
,,It's just a scratch, no need to worry'' you mumble, having no idea how to explain the whole thing altogether.
As you look up, you can tell this answer isn't sufficient and as you see Wilhemina's gaze lingering on yours you quickly add ,,I just fell at work earlier''.
Billie's brow furrows with concern as she inspects your hands yet again, her hand meeting your leg and placing it there to comfort you. ,,Poor sweetheart, how did that happen?'' Cordelia asks, being able to tell through her supreme abilities that you are in fact telling the truth.
,,I don't know, I was just walking to the car, then I tripped and tried to balance and then I fell'' you explain, the embarrassment of the situation and their gazes on you coating your cheeks in a dark tone of red.
,,Looks like you took quite a spill'' Billie adds, pouting a little as Delia tilts her head in that worried but adoring way.
,,Did you hurt yourself anywhere else sweetheart?'' Cordelia quickly asks but you shake your head.
Hoping the conversation is over, you look around the room, seeing content yet still worried faces, Delia and Billie knowing the truth. For a moment the weight lifts off your shoulders replaced by the warmths of your lovers and support. However, as your eyes meet Wilhemina's you shiver a little. You see a flicker of something else, lurking behind her brown eyes.
,,Wh- What's wrong Mina?'' you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you meet her icy gaze. Causing for Billie and Cordelia to meet the redheads eyes as well.
Wilhemina's expression hardens, her jaw set in a tight line as she averts her gaze, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
,,What's wrong?' she spits, her voice sharp with anger as she fixes you with her gaze.
,,What' wrong is that I don't even't recognise you anymore'' she states. Your breath gets caught in your throat and before Cordelia can open her mouth to deescalate the situation, the redhead opens hers yet again. ,,What's wrong is that you aren't honest with us''. she states bluntly.
You recoil at the force of Wilhemina's words, the weight of her anger crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. ,,I-'' you stammer, trying to find the right thing to say, your voice barely above a whisper, as you struggle to find the words to express what has been going on.
Cordelia is quick to intervene, her gentle words breaking through Wilhemina's icy ones. ,,She isn't lying darling, I can tell''. But Wilhemina isn't so easily appeased. With a frustration sigh, her gaze averts yours yet again, her shoulders tense with anger. ,,She may not be lying about the fall but she hasn't been honest with us either''.
Billie now turns to her confused, her hand still on your thigh now squeezing it slightly. ,,What you mean?'' she asks, impatience lacing her words.
,,Are you going to tell them?'' Wilhemina turns to you again, her words cutting through you like knifes. The strictness in her voice and the sharpness of her words, cause your vulnerability to get ahold of you, tears spilling from your eyes.
Your chair scrapes across the kitchen floor, as you get up, Billie's hand leaving from your thigh. ,,I'm sorry for spoiling dinner'' you apologise to Cordelia before walking away.
The three of them watch you leave, each of them contemplating whether to follow you. Billie gets up first, but Cordelia gently stops her ,,Let her calm down a minute, honey'' she coos.
,,What was that all about?'' Billie snaps, angry with Wilhemina's harsh words and how they affected you. The redhead looks down, hating for the way the conversation and evening took a turn.
,,I know you didn't mean to upset her my love but can you explain please?'' Delia pleas, her hand reaching for Wilhemina's across the dining table.
Wilhemina inhales sharply before meeting Cordelia's eyes, her calmness keeping her centred. ,,Haven't you noticed?'' the redhead asks confused, worry overtaking her that she read the signs wrong.
,,Noticed what?'' Billie asks confused, her eyes pleading for answers.
,,Y/N hasn't been sleeping. I think it's been about a week, I assume that's why she fell also'' Wilhemina states.
Her words suddenly hit the other two in the face like a slap from reality. Of course Billie had noticed the tossing and turning and the way the ashtray was always full in the morning, an indication you did in fact steal away in the middle of the night. The supreme had noticed but didn't know the extend of the situation as she faces an internal battle of fear and worries. She feels like she let you down, not noticing and intervening before this happened.
As you retreat to the comfort of the bedroom, the weight of Wilhemina's words hang heavy in the air, the harshness cutting through you like a knife. Tears stream down your cheeks as you collapse onto the bed, the weight of this day and the insomnia crashing down on you.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Cordelia, Billie and Wilhemina sit in silence the weight of the evening's revelations weighing heavily upon them each in their own ways. Cordelia's brow furrows with concern again as she squeezes Wilhemina's hand. ,,My love, I know you didn't mean to upset her'' she begins, her voice soft and soothing as she meets the redheads gaze.
,,We need to talk to her about what's going on and how we can help her'' she suggests softly. Wilhemina's shoulders tense in response but she nods, her heart heavy with regret. ,,I know'' she whispers her voice filled with remorse.
,,I just didn't realise how bad the insomnia has been until today. I feel like I have failed her'' Billie admits. Cordelia reaches out her other hand to the blonde woman, holding it gently. ,,You haven't failed anyone, Billie''.
,,Our little one is great at hiding things from us unfortunately'' Delia explains. ,,I think we should try and talk to her'' she adds afterwards, having let some time pass by now. With a heavy sigh Billie and Wilhemina nod in agreement. As they stand from the table, their gazes fixed on the staircase, they all agree. ,,Let's try''.
As the three of them enter your shared bedroom, the weight of their concern hangs heavy in the air, their footsteps soft against the wooden floor as they approach you, including gentle cane taps from Wilhemina. Their hearts filled with a mixture of worry and love.
You look up from where you are sitting on the edge of the bed, your tear stained cheeks betraying how you truly feel and have been feeling. The sight in front of you only causes for more tears to spill as you see their faces filled with so much worry. You hated this, this is exactly why you didn't want to tell them about the sleeping problem or the fall. You always feel as if they have more important things to do and worry about, not wanting to burden them with your stuff, unbeknownst to you that ,,your stuff'' was all they wanted to hear about and support you with.
Cordelia is the first to speak, her voice soft yet filled with determination as she take a seat beside you, her gaze filled with empathy and understanding. ,,Darling, do you think you are ready to talk to us?'' her voice gentle yet tinged with a sense of urgency as she reaches out to take your hand into her own. Her perfume lingering in the air, honey and vanilla momentarily make you feel calm and content.
You simply nod in response, knowing now you couldn't keep it in any longer, also the exhaustion from the insomnia slowly clouding your senses and making it hard to think. The room fills with silence as you struggle to express the depth of your exhaustion. Billie moves to sit on your other side, her presence and smell of expensive perfume and a hint of cigarette, causing you to feel a little more calmer. ,,We're here babydoll'' she says, her voice filled with warmth as she wraps you into her arms.
Wilhemina remains leaning on her cane from a slight distance, her gaze fixated on you. ,,Y/N.. I-'' she struggles, fighting her internal battles. ,,I'm sorry for what I said before, I was simply worried about you''. Her voice is filled with regret as she approaches you slowly. Tears swell in your eyes at hearing Wilhemina's words, knowing she isn't usually one to apologise and the burden of the argument from before lifting off your shoulders a little. With a trembling hand you reach out to take hers, offering her a silent reassurance of gratitude and forgiveness.
,,Sweetie'' Cordelia asks after a while as the four of you sit beside each other. ,,Hm?'' you ask feeling tired from the past couple of days. ,,How long haven't you been sleeping?'' she asks gently and your gaze averts hers. Billie watches as you chew your bottom lip anxiously, squeezing you a little closer.
,,A week'' you whisper, scared of their reaction. Cordelia's brow furrows with worry, her heart aching at the thought of your suffering. ,,A week?!'' Billie questions, unable to believe the depth of your statement.
,,Oh darling, why haven't you told us? We could have helped you'' Cordelia questions, her head tilting as she tries to meet your gaze.
Tears well up in your eyes, Wilhemina quick to catch them this time. ,,I didn't want to burden you, the three of you have enough on your plate'' you whisper again, barely audible. Your voice filled with remorse before you struggle to meet her brown eyes.
,,Darling girl, you couldn't ever burden us'' Billie is quick to reassure. ,,You bring so much joy into our lives'' the medium adds, her features brightening at the love confession.
,,Sweetheart, we are here for you always, but I think we need to do something about this hm?'' Cordelia softly suggests and you nod tiredly, at this point ready to try anything they suggest or do.
Three sets of brown eyes meet each other, being able to tell they might have a shot at this tonight as you seem as exhausted as ever before. ,,Billie, would you be okay to heat her up some dinner, she barely ate?'' Cordelia asks gently and Billie nods, before pressing a kiss to your cheek and doing as she was asked to.
,,Come on sweetheart'' Cordelia suggests and helps you up. ,,Where are we going?'' you ask confused before she softly chuckles and explains ,,We are going to have a nice relaxing bath, that sounds good?'' she asks with an adorable beaming smile that makes you melt.
Before you approach the bathroom, you turn around to see your redhead lover still sitting on the bed, smiling softly at you. Your features suddenly crease and her eyes are quick to meet yours. ,,Mina?'' you whisper and she is quick to pull herself up, holding onto her cane and making her way over. ,,Please don't go anywhere'' you whisper and Cordelia's heart aches at the statement as her eyes meet the redheads. Her lip forms into a small pout before explaining ,,I'm not going anywhere, little one''. She presses a kiss to your cheek before you smile relieved at her words and follow Cordelia into the bathroom.
Delia makes sure to use some of her favourite lavender bath salts as she runs the bath. In a few quick swift motions, she helps you undress and as you settle into the warm embrace of the water, Cordelia sitting beside you, her presence making you feel comfortable. She reaches out to take your hand into hers before asking ,,Is it okay if I wash your hair sweetheart?'' and you nod sleepily in response.
With gentle hands, she massages the shampoo into your scalp and soon after the conditioner. With each splash of warm water and her soft touch, gentle against your skin, she eases the tension from your tired muscles. She speaks softly, her voice filled with warmth and affection as she whispers words of affection and comfort, reminding you that you aren't alone and will never be.
As the minutes pass, the tension slowly begins to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace that washers over you like a gentle tide. Cordelia continues to show you her lovely care, as she helps you dry off, putting you in some of her comfortable pjs, some socks Mina had knitted a while ago. Sensing your exhaustion and sleep slowly and finally creeping up on you, she simply scoops you up into her arms. As she carries you back to the bedroom, her steps are light, her touch comforting and reassuring as she whispers words of love and reassuring into your ears.
As Cordelia sits you down gently, wrapping you in some blankets, she can tell that sleep is about to consume you, but she makes sure that you at least have some food and water beforehand. After doing as they ask your eyes feel heavy and with each blink you can see their faces as they sit next to you at the edge of the bed, smiling softly at you, each with loving and adoring eyes.
,,Tired'' you mumble and this causes for Billie to chuckle softly. ,,You rest now my love'' Cordelia whispers gently, her voice filled with content and tenderness as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before your eyes close they wander to Wilhemina one more time ,,It' okay, I'll be right here and I won't go anyway she reassures.
At last sleep washes over your exhausted and tired body. The soft low light in the corner of the room providing you the feeling of safety, the warmth of the covers making you feel comfortable and their presence making you feel safe. They keep their promise, staying with you throughout the night. Neither of them leaving your side and with each little noise or movement that escapes you, they are right there, ready to tend to their strong little fighter, relieved you opened up to them eventually and that they could be by your side.
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