twisted-wolf

[twisted-wolf]

AMAZING!

Also let's just ignore my thoughts in the beginning of Crane himself studying the effects of his toxin on one of his acquaintances 👀

Fire in My Blood

Bane x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word count: 4908

Warnings: 18+, Non-con drug use, fuck or die (sort of), slight dub-con (but not really), unprotected sex, mainly PWP, unbeta'd

A/N: my first time writing smut so be gentle

You woke up in bed, slow and groggy. The pain in your head was rolling through you in waves and you thanked your drunk self for at least closing the curtains so there wasn’t too-bright sunlight burning through your eyelids. Idly, you hoped that whatever you couldn’t remember doing last night was worth a hangover this size. You shifted to cradle your head in your hands but your hands didn’t move. Panic washed over you, sudden and icy. Your hands were trapped above your head. 

Forcing the panic aside, you tried to take in your surroundings. You didn’t want to open your eyes yet, in case you were being watched, so you listened hard for something, anything, to tell you where you were. 

No footsteps, no shuffling, no breathing outside your own. Aside from our hands, you were lying comfortably on what you assumed was a bed, complete with a pillow under your head and a blanket that smelled freshly laundered. The room felt bigger than your bedroom and you could hear a kind of white noise outside the walls, getting louder and softer in intervals like–

Waves. Water. 

You must be near the docks. Probably one of the abandoned warehouses frequented by one of Gotham’s handful of criminal enterprises. 

Speaking of criminals, you thanked your lucky stars for the recent training in analyzing and understanding your environment from the man that still sent chills down the spine of most Gothamites. 

You didn’t understand how you had caught Bane’s attention but you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. It took some time between your underground meetings and the handful of times he visited your apartment through the fire escape but you had molded a sort of companionship. He was gentler with you when you weren’t training. The glimpses you got of Bane the Man and not just Bane the Weapon had inklings of longing for something more worming their way into your heart but you squashed them to the best of your ability. You knew who Bane was and knew he could never see you as something more than what you had. 

Taking a steadying breath, you slowly opened your eyes. Only a sliver of the room was visible through your eyelashes at first but you didn’t see anyone else around. You blinked your eyes open and looked toward your hands.

Plastic zip ties held you to the metal headboard, biting into your wrists. You flexed lightly, testing their strength, when a door to your left opened and a man in a long white lab coat walked in.

Jonathan Crane was an objectively handsome man. The whole evil mad scientist thing left a lot to be desired although, knowing him, he probably had a drug for that too. His attention was on a clipboard he was carrying. Talking to himself in soft murmurs, he strode confidently over toward your bed. 

“Ah look who’s awake!” He finally looked up at you and smiled, full and genuine. “Perfect timing.” His gaze raked over you, cool and calculating, and it made your skin crawl, suddenly aware that you were dressed in only your bra and panties from the night before. The thought of Crane undressing you while you were unconscious had bile rising in your throat. 

“What am I doing here?” you fought to keep your voice steady. 

“I needed a guinea pig for something I’ve been working on lately. I was out looking for suitable candidates last night and saw you out with your friends.”

Something must have shown on your face because Crane waved his hand dismissively. “They aren’t here. They had too much alcohol in their systems and it would’ve taken too long for it to metabolize. I couldn’t risk that altering my results.”

Now your blackout made more sense. You had been out with a small group of friends at a bar just celebrating the end of the work week. Things had gotten a little fuzzy but you just assumed it was due to one too many margaritas. Crane must have slipped something into your drink.

Anger flooded you. “You kidnapped me to use me as a test subject?”

“You shouldn’t sound so ungrateful! You’re helping the cutting edge of science! Of understanding the human brain!” He sounded so earnest as if he truly believed in his work without a care in the world that he kidnapped you for it. 

The panic you had been fighting down, hit you like a train. You were trapped on a bed with a madman who had plans for you and no one knew where the hell you were. You wondered how long it would be until anyone found your body. You had to get out. 

“I needed you to be awake before I started the test, though,” he explained. “It will be much easier to judge how quickly the effects start if you're conscious.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a syringe and vial. The pale purple, syrupy liquid in the vial seemed to swirl as Crane pulled it into the syringe, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

With the dose measured out, he turned back to you. You shifted as far away as your binds would allow, inadvertently pressing yourself further into the mattress.

“You’re a smart man,” you tried to reason with him, “You know who I spend my time with.” 

Explicitly connecting yourself to Bane wasn’t something you wanted to do - whatever you two had felt tenuous at best - but desperate times call for desperate measures. No one would be dumb enough to touch someone with any direct connection to the man, right?

“Oh, yes, I know,” Crane’s smile was predatory, “and I’m counting on him coming to save his little pet.”

His palm pressed the side of your face into the pillow, keeping your neck extended even as you thrashed against the bed. The needle pierced the tender skin and Crane’s eyes glittered in the dim light as he released the drug into you. 

“You crazy bastard!” Your wrists were bleeding freely now, slow trickles running down your forearms and dripping onto the sheets as you continued to try and pull yourself free.

Whatever he gave you didn’t hit all at once. It started in your chest, warm and slow, and radiated outward, but warm grew into too hot all too quickly, curled around your lungs and ribs, and squeezed. Your breath stuttered on the next exhale. Part of you expected to see smoke trailing out between your lips. Liquid fire pooled low in your stomach and you were suddenly, painfully, aroused.

“What the fuck?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, overpowering Crane’s monologuing no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on it. Fire raced in your veins and you pulled against your restraints, sparks licking your wrists. 

Through the haze in your brain you could barely make out Crane talking about Lust and Fever and Sex and Orgasm and Death. Even firing on all cylinders, you didn’t know if you could find a good combination of those words. 

Something in the distance caught his attention and he grinned like a shark, all predator and sharp teeth. Crane knew what it meant too. 

“He’s gonna tear you apart,” you hissed. 

“Oh, on the contrary,” he spoke slowly and looked in your eyes, making sure you understood every word, a condescending lilt in his tone, “I think he’ll send me a thank you gift after this.”

He left with a chuckle that sent a chill down your spine even with the growing furnace inside you. 

With Crane out of sight, you squirmed to try and break the zip ties again but the new sensations had you gasping. Your wrists didn’t hurt so much anymore and what little pain made it through to your awareness landed just on the side of pleasurable.  The blanket underneath you rubbed against you everywhere, everywhere, and your cheeks flamed when you noticed the wetness in your panties. You tried to force yourself to lay still - to stop and think about your next move - but your hips rolled anyway, searching for friction you wouldn’t find. 

You squeezed your thighs together, chasing the orgasm you could feel rushing at you just beyond your reach. The coil snapped and it flowed through you like cool water down your parched throat. It broke the haze just briefly. You gasped a breath like coming up out of water.

If it was possible for you to blush further, you would’ve when you opened your eyes and were met with Bane’s. How much had he seen? 

The man stood over you, stoic as ever, and gave nothing away. He watched you silently, taking in everything.

“This is not one of his usual toxins.” He finally spoke. It wasn't a question but you shook your head anyway. 

“He said it was something he had been working on.” You swallowed hard, fighting a shiver. "He didn't start really talking until he had already drugged me and I couldn’t focus. Something about fever and sex and death but..." you trailed off, nervous and unwilling to really finish that sentence. Shaking your head was a mistake you learned as nausea hit you. “Needed a test subject.”

Bane nodded slowly, hard eyes glinting off the light as he looked around the room. “There’s a camera,” he mused. “He’s watching.”

“Sick fuck,” you seethed. 

Bane huffed out something that could’ve been a laugh and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. You startled both of you by moaning lowly. His touch was like a soothing balm and lit match against your nerves at the same time. 

His eyes were on your face but his fingers didn’t move.  

“Fuck, I’m sorry- I don’t know-,” you stuttered. “Can’t think- Too fucking hot.” You clenched your teeth, cutting off the half-formed thoughts you couldn’t stop.

Calloused fingers brushed across your forehead and you bit back a whimper. 

“You have a fever.”

You nodded, eyes shut tight. There was a heavy pause.

“You are…aroused.”

You turned your face away from him but nodded again, shame rocketing through you. Tears fell against your will.

“Please just get me out of here,” you whispered.

The zip ties snapped easily under his hands and you had to clamp down on your mind straying to thoughts of feeling those rough fingers on your skin again. Your core throbbed at the mental image alone. You couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together, breath hitching. Vaguely, you realized you were gasping out a string of apologies when Bane shushed you, just a hiss leaking out of his mask.

“You are not in control of your body. Do what you must.” The words came out stiff, barely contained anger tingeing them but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you.

Dark eyes met yours as you searched his face, needing to see if he was serious. His sincerity was open and unwavering. The weight of his hand settled on your stomach, the warmth of his palm bleeding into the coil inside you and snapping it just as soundly as the zip ties. 

Your eyes rolled back and you groaned as that cooling wave shook through you, quieter this time. 

“It will be easier if I carry you out but it may be…uncomfortable for you.”

“Do what you must,” you parroted his words with a weak smile, hoping for levity.

A silent nod was the only reply and he was wrapping you up in the blanket you had been laying on. The texture was scratchy and it insulated the heat of your skin but you bit your tongue. Strong arms lifted you effortlessly. You buried your face in the blanket and settled against his chest as he moved. 

It was a position you had found yourself in before. You had a habit of falling asleep in places you shouldn’t and he often carried you to a place that wouldn’t have your back or neck screaming at you when you woke up. On one particular occasion, you had fallen asleep slumped over on the couch in your apartment and floated to awareness being lifted and carried to your bedroom. You felt like a child again, protected and cared for. Your nose pressed into his jaw, just under the line of his mask. He had laid you gently on your bed, still unmade from the morning, and brought the duvet up to your chin. You had tried to fight your way to full consciousness.

“Stay,” you breathed, afraid he wouldn’t hear. Afraid that he would hear and leave anyway. After a beat, the other side of your bed dipped with his weight, half laying, half sitting up against the pillows. You had rolled into him, soaking up his warmth. Later, you would  blame pressing your face into his chest on the fact that you had still been on the wrong side of consciousness.

His hand tentatively rested on your shoulder as if he didn’t know what to do with it. You let out a light hum, hoping to reassure him. A smile almost slid over your lips when his palm slid down along your spine to settle at the center of your back. 

Just before you slipped back into sleep, you swore you felt him press his mask against the crown of your head. 

“Little one,” Bane’s voice brought you out of the fog in your brain, “Are you with me?” 

You blinked your eyes open and lifted your head from the blanket cocoon. 

“Always,” you replied. You became mildly aware that you were in your apartment but you didn’t remember how you got there. How long had you been lost in your head?

“My men are taking care of Crane,” he said. You both knew what he meant but the fewer specifics you knew, the better. “Barsad will make sure that nothing from the camera he had in that room will be seen by anyone.” His grip on you tightened. “He will never touch you again.”

He deposited you on your bed and was standing over you once again. He didn't show any outward emotion. You didn't know what to say or how. 

"I'm sorry." You said anyway. It came out small and weak. Hell, you weren't even sure what you were sorry for. Getting kidnapped? Not being able to get out of the situation yourself? 

Your head was too full of feelings you didn't understand. You couldn't think straight. You had never been more aware of your own body before. The lingering feeling of Bane’s arms around you, the godawful blanket. You swore you could feel your blood flowing in your veins. 

Light fingertips ghosted across your forehead, pressing lightly on the creases between your eyebrows, and your eyelids fluttered closed. You bit your lip. 

"Does it hurt when I do this?" He moved his hand from your forehead to your wrist. His thumb rubbing just under the wound that the zip tie left. 

You shook your head, not trusting your ability to make any noise that wasn't wholly embarrassing. 

"I need to hear you say it." 

You swallowed hard. "No, it doesn't hurt. It’s like my body can't decide if it feels amazing or like I'm holding it next to an open flame." You rushed out. 

“What do you need?” he asked after a heavy pause.

A simple question that had your head spinning. Rapid fire flashes of his large frame over you, under you, those rough hands all over you, inside you. You bit down on a moan, nearly biting through your lip.

“Just talk to me. Please.” It came out shaky and too vulnerable. 

His brows furrowed. “That will not help with the effects of the toxin.”

Resolutely keeping your lips shut tight, another tear escaped down your cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. 

“I cannot just sit by and do nothing when you’re suffering.”

You shook your head, the action making your head swim. “I can’t ask that of you. I won’t.”

His hand settled on your stomach. The pressure sent waves through you. The fire in your core roaring anew.

“You don’t have to ask. You just have to let me.”

Your glassy, tired eyes met his dark, earnest ones as you searched for something, anything, that would give you reason to say no. You weighed the option of just letting the toxin do what it would instead of ruining what you and he had. 

But you couldn’t deny that you wanted what he was offering.

“Okay.” You nodded lightly. 

You hissed as he shifted the blanket off of you. It felt like sandpaper against your highly sensitive skin. His gaze flicked up to you but kept on his mission, lightly tracing his fingers up your thighs. It might've tickled a little if you had a better handle on your nerves. 

There was only a slight pause in his movements before he was bending down to pull his boots off and then joining you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. His eyes searched your face as he spread your thighs, placing one of your legs on either side of his hips. You fought down every bit of embarrassment you could feel burning red on your cheeks and looked away.

“No,” he spoke softly but clearly. A calloused finger under your chin turned you back to meet his gaze. “Don’t look away, little one. You need to stay present and tell me if I do anything to hurt you or if you need me to stop. I want to help, not cause more harm. Understand?”

Only after you gave a small nod did he release your chin and return his hands to your inner thighs, higher than before. His thumbs rubbing small circles mere inches from where you needed him.

His eyes caught on the damp patch darkening the fabric of your panties. He made a single slow pass over your center with his thumb. You bit down on the inside of your cheek and let out a rough exhale, your fists curling into the sheets.

“Try to relax,” he rumbled, gaze flicking up to your face and back down. “I understand this must be unpleasant for you but fighting the toxin will prolong the effects and may make it worse.”

A whine escaped your clenched teeth as you forced your muscles to relax. His thumb began slow, even circles over your clit, like a reward. Pleasure rose quickly now that you had stopped pushing it down. 

 “Nothing said or done here will leave this room,” he assured you. “You are safe to do what you need to get through this.” He hooked a finger around damp fabric and pulled your panties to the side. The first brush of a callused fingertip sent a jolt up your spine. “Tell me that you understand.”

Your hips rocked minutely, chasing his touch. “I understand.” 

“Good girl.”

His finger slid inside you in one push and your walls tightened around him, sending you over the edge again. You couldn't be embarrassed about the noise you made even if you tried.

The toxin’s haze faded marginally again. In all honesty, you had hoped that an orgasm brought on by someone else would have been all it would take but, of course, Crane’s concoctions are never that simple.

As many times as you indulged fantasies of Bane in your bed, though you would never admit it aloud, you didn't want it to happen like this. Not when it was only like an obligation for him. 

The finger steadily pumping inside you became two and the stretch brought you out of your thoughts with a whine. 

Bane slowed but didn’t stop. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, it’s just a lot,” you reassured him, moaning around the last word when picked up his pace again. “It’s like I’m feeling everything double or triple.”

“It’s good then?” 

He curled his fingers slightly, searching. 

“So good.” You choked on a gasp when he found the spot inside you that made your toes curl. Those rough fingertips massaged tight circles around it while his thumb copied the movement around your clit. 

Moans flowed from your lips unhindered. One of your hands reached down to clutch at his wrist while the other tightened in the sheets. 

You could feel the crest coming but it was just out of reach. Your head thrashed on the pillow, grinding your teeth. 

"Fuck, I can't. It's not-" you stopped with a whine, tears gathering in your eyes. Your hips rolled of their own accord in search of friction.

“It’s not enough,” he finished for you. 

"Crane told me that you'd send him a thank you gift for this." You blurted out. "Like this was something you wanted."

He froze. 

“He’s wrong, right? Of course he is,” you rambled, squeezing your eyes shut tight. “You don’t want this. Why the hell would you? I’m just me. An annoyance even on a good day, a hindrance on any other. I’m not-” 

Pressing his hand over your lips, he stopped your rambling. 

"Not like this." It was quiet but you heard it, you knew you did. Your gaze met his again and you just stared at him for a heartbeat then two, willing yourself to take a chance. Telling yourself it would be worth it. 

Fuck it. If it goes wrong, you can just blame it on the toxin.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling yourself further toward him. Your heat pressed against the obvious tent in the front of his pants. His hand fell from your lips as you dragged yourself up to him, close enough to share breath.

“Please.” You ran your nose along his cheek and quickly unhooked your bra. His eyes flicked down briefly once the lace was removed and laying on the floor.

“Little one,” he murmured.

"You're the only person I would trust with this." You pressed a firm kiss to the front of his mask.

A harsh breath hissed out from behind the grate. He took only a brief pause to gather himself before moving off the bed stripping quickly. Your eyes raked over every inch of newly exposed skin. Lightly tanned, criss-crossed with scars, and stretched over his wide frame and well-built muscles. You’d seen him shirtless before under much different circumstances and it was a sight you had guiltily used on nights when you were alone and you knew this was something that you would add to your shameful late night fantasies until the day you died. 

His cock slapped against his stomach as his pants hit the floor. The sight alone had a whimper crawling up your throat. He was thick, flushed red and leaking, and you couldn’t tell if the need to feel him inside you was more the toxin or your own. 

Your breath caught when his fingertips curled into the top hem of your panties. His gaze held yours until the lace joined his pants on the floor and he returned to his spot between your thighs.

He wrapped a hand around himself, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Are you with me?” His eyes searched yours.

“Always,” you breathed. 

He filled you slowly, measured, careful, and watching your face the entire time. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you and he was acutely aware of the size difference between the two of you. His fingers flexed against your thighs, keeping you still in his grasp. 

Even with the toxin’s effects on you, the stretch of Bane filling you had a twinge of discomfort filtering through the pleasure otherwise washing over you. 

He finally bottomed out and you let out a low groan. You couldn’t decide where to keep your hands and they flitted from his shoulders to the bedsheets to his forearms to his abs, anything you could touch. Maybe if you found something to hold on to, you could keep yourself from floating away. 

Bane grunted as you clenched around him and minutely ground his hips into you. 

“Shit, move please,” your fingers dug into his forearms. 

You expected him to be rough and fast. Simply chasing release with his mission as a sole focus. But this was something else entirely. He was still focused but his mission was you, not just getting off. He was curled over you, forehead pressed into your shoulder, caging you in with his forearms and rolling his hips into you. It felt amazing.

But it wasn’t enough. You could tell he was holding back, even if it was for your sake, and, if this was the only time you got to experience Bane like this, you wanted all of him.

“Bane, baby, please.” You gripped the back of his neck and pulled his face up from its hiding place. Flicking your eyes up to meet his wild ones, you planted a firm kiss onto his mask, running the tip of your tongue along the grate. “I’m not gonna break.” You dug your heels into his ass, urging him on. His eyes darkened at your words, pupils already blown wide. His hips snapped forward with a grunt, forcing a gasp from between your lips. He levered up on his knees, towering over you, as he pulled out almost entirely and wrapped your hips in a bruising grip. 

A growl slid out from behind his mask as he looked down at you.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned out. Your eyes rolled back when he filled you again, impossibly deeper than before. 

Long gone was the caring pace he had set before. Every one of your favorite fantasies of rough sex with Bane couldn’t compare to the real thing. Part of you was already excited to see the vibrant bruises you’d find on your hips later. 

Bane’s angle was perfect, the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot with devastating precision. 

“Oh fuck, right there, please.” Your fingers curled around his wrists and your back arched up off the bed. 

You bit your lip hard to try and stop the string of embarrassing whines escaping with every powerful thrust. 

“No,” something akin to a snarl clawed out of Bane’s throat.

He pinned your wrists above your head, holding you fast with one hand. He ran the thumb of his other over your bottom lip, spit-slicked and bitten red, and pulled it from between your teeth. 

“I want to hear every single noise of pleasure you make,” he growled. 

You caught his thumb between your teeth and curled your tongue around it. His fiery gaze dropped to your lips as you sucked, drawing the calloused pad deeper into your mouth.

“I’ve heard those pretty sounds fall out of your lips countless times, I’ve heard you call my name at night, don’t you dare hide them from me now.”

He hooked his thumb behind your teeth and pulled down. A hard snap of his hips forced a loud cry from between your lips. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled darkly.

He released your jaw and trailed his hand down your neck. His fingers found your nipple, spit-slick thumb circling the bud before pinching it between rough fingers. You squirmed beneath him as he twisted and pulled, the bite of pain only serving to amplify the pleasure coursing in your blood. He showed the same treatment to your other nipple and you fought weakly against the hold he had on your wrists. 

“Please, fuck, please,” you moaned. At this point, you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Your head was fuzzy with the tightening of the coil in your stomach. Each drag of his cock inside you, each grind against your clit, feeling wholly and solely overwhelmed by the man above you, nothing else existed outside this moment. 

“Let go, little one,” he purred. He reached down and rubbed tight circles over your clit. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

You screamed his name as the knot in your core snapped hard and your vision went white. Bane snarled and buried himself to the hilt finding his own release as you lost yourself in the waves of your orgasm crashing one after another. 

Floating back to yourself, you felt a firm body under your cheek and tentative fingertips tracing along your back. 

The toxin had burned itself out, no longer smoldering in your core. Now, you were afraid. Was all that just because of the toxin? Had Bane just reacted to you? Of course, he had offered but what if none of it really meant anything to him? Hell, it probably didn’t. Just a means to an end.

You didn’t realize you had started shivering until Bane moved you to lay over him and wrapped his arms and the duvet around you. 

You slid your hands under his shoulders and pressed your face into his neck. 

“Are you with me?” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

A beat of silence and his arms tightened around you. 

“Always.”

The talk that both of you knew needed to happen, could wait just a little while longer. For now, you were content to stay in the moment. You placed a slow line of kisses down his neck and pressed your nose into the juncture of his shoulder instead. 

“Sleep now, little one,” he rumbled beneath you. 

Just before unconsciousness took you, you felt him press his mask into the crown of your head. 

[twisted-wolf]

This! This is a story that will stick with me for a while!

It's... I can't even put it into words.

Hauntingly beautiful or beautifully haunting?

Either way... fantastic writing!

(Also, I can’t pick a favorite ending! They’re both perfect in their own ways.)

Red Heart

Michael Langdon x fem reader

summary: At the end of the world, the Reader finds herself in Outpost 3 with nothing more than a name. With no memories of her life before, stuck living underground with strangers, and only ally seemingly being the militant Ms Mead, she's surprised by the instant connection she has with the member of the Cooperative that arrives one day without any prior warning. It's not long before her past and ties to him are revealed.

warnings: some of the usual dark content like murder and killing, I guess. Surprisingly no smut, just fluff and romance.

a/n: This is my longest fic ever so far! I combined a new idea with an old idea. There are 2 different endings, which is another first for me. With both endings, the story is roughly 28,500 words. I’m thinking about writing a smutty one shot for Michael soon. Thank you @ewokiee and @steeevienicks for the help.

“So,” Evie started, arching her brow. “You really have no memory of your life before?” She pressed, her eyes looking you over as she sized you up.

The two of you were sitting on one of black leather couches during cocktail hour. 

“Afraid not,” you muttered with a slight shrug. 

“Hm,” she looked away, taking a sip of her drink. “Must make adjusting to all this,” she gestured to the room and the other people present while sloshing her glass of mineral water around. “Easier… Nothing from your past to miss, no previous life to long for.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

It was true, you couldn’t remember anything from your past. You didn’t even have any recollection of arriving at The Outpost. Two weeks ago, you had woken up in your room here, unable to recall anything except for your name. Ms. Mead was the first person you met, she had given you a quick rundown of where you were, what had happened, and the rules of Outpost 3 while she helped you change into a formal violet dress. 

But Evie had a point, as the days passed the others became more strung out and restless, Coco’s hair changed daily, Gallant’s mood swings were more extreme, and they all complained from morning to night. 

But, when they would speak of the world before the end, you had to admit you were a little envious. They’d talk about foods you’d never likely taste, weather you’d never feel, places you’d never see… having no memories was a blessing and a curse. 

However, your curiosity was stronger than your envy, which is why you often found yourself sitting next to Evie, so you could listen to her stories. She was always happy to speak about herself and her past exploits. 

Suddenly, two strangers entered the music room. You straightened out the skirt of your dress, your fingers running across the purple silk as you sat up straight. It didn’t go unnoticed that the two strangers were both dressed in purple as well. 

You had quickly learned its significance in this new world. Purple meant you were part of the elite and that was your only clue to who you were before. You wondered if you had been an heiress like Coco or an actress like Dinah. But you had your doubts. Even Evie often commented that you were far too kind, too humble to have been anyone with any real clout or power. Which left you wondering why you were here, really, if you paid your way like the rest. 

Eager to speak to new people, everyone stood up to greet the new meat. Gallant was quick to approach them and ask them questions about what the world above was like. 

“It’s all gone,” the boy stated solemnly. 

“Everything,” the girl added. 

Ms. Venable soon joined the group, announcing it was time for dinner. Everyone followed her out to the dining room. 

You took your usual seat and quietly waited to be served by the grays. You remained seated as Coco threw her fit over having to eat another cube. You jumped slightly when Ms. Venable struck Coco’s face. You hadn’t seen her lose her composure like that and it frightened you. 

When Ms. Mead had shared with Ms. Venable that had no memory of who you were, she had questioned you repeatedly. You could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think you belonged. Ms. Venable believed you were unworthy of being a purple and hadn’t earned your spot here at this sanctuary. You were sure she was looking for a way to dispose of you. 

Your eyes remained downcasted as Ms. Venable addressed the group. She shared that three of the outposts had already been overrun, there was only enough food for 18 months, and that the world above was beyond repair.

The Fist and a few other members of The Cooperative entered the dining room, The Fist whispered something to Ms. Mead. 

“There’s a problem,” Ms. Mead shared. “We've detected a spike in the background radiation, centered in this room.”

Immediately Gallant pointed a finger at the newcomers who insisted they were clean.

“Place your hands on the table,” Ms. Mead directed, calmly. “And don’t move.”

Ms. Mead gave you a small reassuring smile as she came around with the Geiger Counter. Despite how the rest of the group felt about Ms. Mead, you found her presence comforting like you were safe with her around. 

You watched wide eyed as Gallant and Stu were dragged away from the table. Moments later Ms. Venable dismissed you and the rest of the group. 

You retired to your room and immediately started the shower to let the water heat up. Ms. Mead’s words about radiation and its effects were still swirling around your head. Stripping out of the dress, you left it on the floor as you bathed, washing every inch of your body. 

The next day, you and the rest of the group learned Stu’s fate. Andre was inconsolable, sobbing as he mourned over the death of his lover. 

At dinner everyone was surprised when instead of bland tasteless cubes, soup was served. Ms. Venable referred to it as bonne bouche.

You pushed the meat around with your spoon, you had to admit it smelled appetizing. Everyone else delved in, rejoicing over the flavor and taste. A few questioned the source of the meat and  where the meat came from, but Ms. Mead insisted that it was chicken. Yet no one seemed truly convinced. 

You were about to take a bite when Andre found a bone in his bowl. He quickly pushed his bowl aside, identifying the bone as a finger, immediately claiming that Stu had been served. 

Most of the others reacted with disgust, silverware clattering on the table as they began retching and spitting the stew out. Andre leapt from his seat, swept up in an emotional outburst. 

Ms. Venable attempted to reassure the group, stressing that there were some lines that should never be crossed. 

Evie was the only purple unphased and continued to eat. 

You calmly placed your spoon back down on your napkin, watching as the rest of the purples filed out of the dining room. 

As you joined them in the music room, they were still talking about the strange supper, arguing over whether it had been Stu or not. Andre was still distraught as his mother tried to comfort him. 

The arguing came to a halt as Emily shushed everyone when the music suddenly stopped. Gallant rushed to the radio as the song had changed. For two full weeks nonstop Karen Carpenter's voice had droned on and on, but now a new voice rang out. 

‘There's got to be a morning after

If we can hold on through the night’

Gallant mistook it as a sign of hope, a message sent directly from The Cooperative that there was hope for the future, but 18 grueling months had passed since then.  

Evie had run out of stories to tell. Andre’s tears had dried. Dinah’s advice had become stale and repetitive. 

The days had all blurred together, then the weeks, then the months. Everyday was just like the last. You were desperate for something to change. 

You often wondered, late in the night, if perhaps you had already died and this was purgatory or even hell, and that you were here to atone for the sins of life you couldn’t remember. 

Ms. Venable tapped her cane.”This will be our last breakfast,” she announced. “We’re cutting back to one meal a day.”

You could feel the dismay and uneasiness in the room. Coco was first to share her complaints about the new arrangement, followed by Gallant. Both Evie and Dinah tried to be voices of reason, but it seemed to only fuel their frustrations more. Gallant jumped to his feet, and threatened Dinah with his fork. 

Instinctively, you scooted closer to Ms. Mead as tempers rose. She looked towards The Fist, giving her a wordless order. 

“I say we take our chances outside,” Coco’s assistant suggested. 

“She’s right. We have to get out of here,” Gallant agreed. 

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Ms. Mead stated firmly. 

Gallant threw his plate, “What are you going to do? Shoot us all?”

The Fist made her way towards him. 

You gripped your utensils tightly as the scene unfolded before you. You knew the members of The Cooperative wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of you, the had done away with several people already. 

Suddenly, red lights flashed accompanied with the blare of an alarm rung out, effectively catching everyone’s attention. 

“Perimeter alert. There’s been a breach,” The Fist explained.

Ms. Mead sighed, giving you a curt nod, before following The Fist towards the stairs. 

No one was sure what to expect. Most were thinking that this was it, that the outpost would be overrun like the others. 

You probably should’ve felt worried as well, but frankly you were just glad something unexpected had happened, something to break the monotony. You stared up at the ceiling wondering who or what was up there. 

That night you were restless, tossing and turning, legs tangled in your sheets as you tried to fall into a deep sleep that never came. Instead, your busy mind conjured vivid and unsettling dreams, full of unfamiliar people and experiences that you didn’t remember or you didn’t understand, almost like being in a foreign film. 

Amongst all the nameless faces was a boy with blonde hair and striking blue eyes who appeared over and over again, catching your attention. As you watched him from afar he continuously changed from a child to a man.

You tried to get closer to him, reaching out with your hands trying to grab him, stop him, but each time he slipped away from your fingers with a pained look in his eyes. 

When your eyes snapped open, your poor head was throbbing, pounding against your skull. You curled into a ball sobbing quietly over the pain and the new emptiness in your chest. 

Everytime you closed your eyes you thought about that boy, it was almost as if you could feel his longing, his pain. You wished you could make out his face, but you could only recall pieces, like his fluffy blonde hair and the shade of his steel blue eyes. 

…

He was beautiful.

He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen, not that you much to compare him to considering the only faces you could remember were residents here at the outpost. You knew you were staring as he strode into the music room, but you couldn’t resist. Even if you tried, you were sure that you couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect than the man standing before you. 

Ms.Venable stepped aside as he turned and faced the survivors of Outpost 3. 

“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative,” the man stated, standing in the center of the room. 

You were so engrossed with his appearance that you were unable to process his words, although you did notice the soothing sound of his honeyed voice, so sweet and rich. He exuded confidence and poise as he spoke of the horrors that had befallen the world and the few remaining survivors. There was a sort of haughtiness as he answered questions that you also admired. 

It was unnerving, feeling attraction for the very first time. It was as if you could easily lose yourself to him, all of yourself, and that alone was very frightening. Surely, before the world crumpled, you must have felt this sort of magnetism towards people before, but you couldn’t imagine it was anything as powerful as this. Was this a crush? Love at first sight? Whatever it was, you weren’t prepared for how strong this pull would be. 

Gallant volunteered to be interviewed first, obviously eager to earn his spot at The Sanctuary. Despite your immediate interest in Michael Langdon, you were not as eager to be alone with him. 

How could you answer any of his questions when you didn’t know a thing about yourself? 

But as the thought crossed your mind, Michael’s eyes met yours, and for a brief moment it seemed as though his sauve and indifferent attitude faltered revealing something vulnerable and delicate beneath. Blue eyes that were cold and hard like ice were now swimming with emotion. 

It only lasted for a second, his cool demeanor returning as he turned away from you. 

“The process should only take me a couple of days,” Michael explained. “So you won’t be kept in suspense forever.”

“For those of you who don’t make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking,” he held up a vial containing white pills. “Down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up.”

“I look forward to meeting each and every one of you,” his eyes swept across the room, his eyes locking with yours one more time before he took his leave. 

There was a heaviness in the air as the weight of his words sunk in. There was no survival without admittance to The Sanctuary. Staying here would inevitably lead to death, it was just a question of how, by feral cannibals or suicide. 

As usual, the others erupted into a squabble, arguing over who was worthy and unworthy of going to The Sanctuary. 

You rose to your feet as you felt your headache returning. No one questioned you as you made your way out, towards the comfort of your bedroom.

Your head snapped towards your bedroom door as someone urgently rapped against it. 

“Ms. Venable has requested your presence,” Ms. Mead announced from the other side. “She has a few questions for you.”

“I’ll be right out,” you sighed as your fingers expertly finished buttoning your dress. 

Ms. Mead gave you a half smile as you stepped out of your room. The two of you walked quietly through the halls as she escorted you to Ms. Venable’s office. 

This happened about once a month, and you dreaded it every single time. At first she was reasonably pleasant, but as the months went by, she became more hostile, frustrated that your answers never changed. 

You took a deep breath as you both stopped outside her door. Ms. Mead got the door and held it open for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her as you crossed the threshold. 

“Of course,” she nodded, but as she closed the door, she gave Ms. Venable a stern look, who glared back in return. There seemed to be a sudden rift between the two women. 

You looked wistfully at the closed door, wishing that Ms. Mead had stayed. Ms. Venable cleared her throat and motioned to the chair across from her. 

“Ms. Y/n,” she greeted you as you took your seat. 

“Ms. Venable,” you replied, with a polite but forced smile. 

“18 months,” she began, chuckling dryly. “We’ve been here for 18 months and you still claim to have no memories?” She phrased it as a question but didn’t wait for a response. “It’s almost too convenient, isn’t it? The perfect little lie to hide behind.”

“It’s not a lie,” you insisted, locking your eyes with hers hoping to show her you were telling the truth, just like you had all the other times before. 

Ms. Venable wasn’t convinced, of course, that’s why she continued with these monthly interrogations. She had been present for the arrival of all the others, except for you. You seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, standing beside Ms. Mead in a satin gown as she introduced you to the other purples. 

“So,” Ms. Venable continued, barely able to hide her contempt while she feigned sympathy. “No changes? Nothing at all?” 

You looked away, your fingers playing with the lace trim on your skirt. You hadn’t planned on sharing that dream with anyone, but maybe it would get her off your back for a while. 

“I had this… dream recently, I can’t remember all the details, but there was this face, it’s not a clear image, but it lingers in my mind, of a sweet boy with blonde hair. I know… I know whoever he is, that I love him,” you admitted. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to picture him, but no matter how hard you tried it was like trying to see through fog. And there were all these feelings that emerged just at the thought of him, completely overwhelming you, making it hard to articulate any further. 

“I-I need to go,” you sniffled, your vision blurry as you got to your feet and rushed out the office. 

Your headache returned, bringing waves of nausea with it. The world around you was swirling and rocking, the light of the candles and lanterns were blinding. Holding your hand out you steadied yourself with the wall, using it as your anchor and guide as you tried to return to the safety of your room. 

“Ms. Y/n?”

Even with you squeezing your shut, you recognized the voice belonging to Coco’s assistant Mallory. She immediately offered you assistance, helping you sit on the floor. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, resting against the cool concrete wall. 

“Of course,” she said, sitting next to you. 

You bent your knees, pulling them up to your chest. “I keep getting these headaches along with these strange dreams,” you explained. “I think they might have to do with my memories.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she consoled. “Ever since being here, I’ve felt off too, like I’m not all here or I’m missing parts of myself… I have a feeling there’s a reason for it all.”

The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence. You had never really spent time with Mallory before, the grays were always so busy compared to the purples, but she seemed much nicer than most of the people who’ve gotten to know. 

Mallory accompanied you back to your room, once you felt well enough to walk again. You still had to prepare for your upcoming interview. 

….

The grays pulled the doors open and immediately closed them shut as soon as you stepped into the office. 

Michael was waiting by his desk for you.  An eager smile formed on his lips as he watched you timidly approach him. 

“Let’s begin, shall we?” He said, gesturing to the leather chair across from his desk before he promptly moved to his own seat. 

You swallowed thickly, your hands folded in your lap, you had spent hours agonizing over this interview. You wanted to secure a spot at The Sanctuary just like everyone else, but what could you say to convince him? 

Ms. Venable drilled you every chance she got about who you are or were, she was obviously certain that you didn’t belong with the rest. Even the other purples had made it a habit, regularly pointing out to you that if you had been anyone important than someone here at the outpost should’ve recognized you, but none of them did. You were no one. 

Then, of course, there was the whole other ordeal of you being infatuated with Michael Langdon, you were completely bewitched by his charm and beauty. 

Your stomach was already fluttering uncontrollably simply because you were in the same room with him, alone. Your gaze flickered to him, briefly taking in the sight before you. His body language spoke volumes as sat there like a young king perched upon his throne, radiating elegance and authority. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Michael mused. “ Unlike your…companions, who have all been so loud and obnoxious,” he rolled his eyes. “Constantly pestering me, pleading their cases, and offering deals and bribes thinking I can be swayed by their foolish promises but not you, not even now, why?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. 

“Could it be that you’ve already decided that you won’t be selected?” he speculated. 

You looked away. “I’m nobody special or significant,” you explained, bunching your skirts in your hands. “I don’t even know why I’m here or how I even arrived at the outpost.”

“Ah, yes,” Michael hummed. “Ms. Venable has informed me that you have no memories of your past.” He gave you a hard look, before leaning forward, his fingers drumming on the desk. “Have you considered that perhaps you’re here because someone special, someone powerful, made these arrangements for you?”

You shook your head, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but it wasn’t an unreasonable idea. “If that were true then wouldn’t that person be here with me now?”

Michael shrugged, resting his elbows on the armrests as he leaned back and crossed his legs, “Unless they weren’t able to get here in time, perhaps they died on their way to the outpost or worse, survived… but who knows maybe they did make it, maybe they’re here and haven’t told you.”

“Why would someone do that?” Your eyes moved from Michael to the files on his desk, could it really be that one of the others knows who you are. “Do any of your files mention anything about why or how I ended up here?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” he replied with a mocking smile, laying his hand on top of the stack, a playful look in his eye as he stared down at the pile. 

Your shoulders slumped, you had hoped that Michael would have some answers for you, but instead he just planted more questions and worries in your head. 

“How do you feel about them, the others?” He asked offhandedly, casually changing the subject, while slightly swiveling his chair side to side.

You perked up at the question. “Oh, Evie has been a friend, someone to talk to, to confide in,” you said with a small shrug. “And Ms. Mead, even though she keeps her distance from us, she’s been a source of comfort for me, someone I can trust.”

Micheal snickered, shaking his head, “You’re the first to say anything remotely kind about the other survivors. The rest were all so quick to share with me the ugly and disgraceful truths they had gathered about one another. It’s… a refreshing change.”

He tilted his head, his gaze lingering on your face as his finger traced down the side of his face to his jaw. Your eyes followed the gesture, mesmerized, it seemed unfair to try to have to concentrate with him right in front of you. Every movement he made, no matter how small or fleeting, was alluring, like he was tempting you. 

“Do you find me attractive?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with delight as he watched you squirm. 

Your eyes widened, twisting your silk skirt with your hands, it was as if he could read your mind. 

“Tell me,”  Michael urged with a smirk, rising from his chair and slowly striding towards you. “What exactly do you like about me?” 

He partially sat on his desk right in front of you, his hands clasped in front as he waited. 

You parted your lips, licking them nervously. “Everything,” you answered in a small voice. 

“Everything?” He repeated, lifting his brow. He leaned closer towards you, his long golden hair falling forward like a curtain, his face inching towards yours. 

You nodded, your eyes locking with his as you craned your neck towards him. 

“I believe you,” he whispered, his breath tickling your face as his nose touched yours. “Too bad we’re out of time.”

You blinked in surprise as the large black doors slid open. 

Michael straightened out his posture, before turning away. “We’ll speak again, soon,” he added as he headed up the staircase. 

You wandered the halls, head in the clouds, daydreaming of the kiss that almost happened between you and Michael. You were certain now that whatever you were feeling was more than a crush. 

“Ms. Y/n?” Ms. Mead started as you almost walked into her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling embarrassed as you suddenly returned to planet Earth. 

“Everything alright?”

You giggled, “I’m fine, never better.”

She gave you an odd look, “Are you sure? This morning you didn’t look too well.”

You smiled warmly at her, “It was just a little headache, that’s all.”

She nodded, still not completely convinced. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mead.”

She sighed, straightening out her coat as you both stood there in the middle of the empty corridor. You were about to ask what was on her mind, but suddenly she opened her mouth. 

“Have you talked to him yet? Mr. Langdon?” She asked. 

“I have,” you replied, trying not to smile too wide.

She looked down. “The others seemed worse off after talking to him,” she shared. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to my turn.”

“Why?” You inquired, voice laced with concern. “Surely your hard work and dedication to The Cooperative should guarantee you a spot.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” 

“It’s the truth,” you assured her. 

“What do you make of him?” Ms. Mead asked, unsure how to feel about the newcomer, he was with The Cooperative afterall and her loyalty to her employer was still strong. She had followed orders and had done the best she could in these circumstances. Perhaps, this Langdon did hold the key to salvation. 

“It’s hard to put it into words,” you began to explain. “But I feel a connection to him.”

“Just keep your wits about you,” she advised, giving you a slight nod as she left. 

…

You were moving sluggishly, having spent most of the morning in bed trying to recover from another headache. While the pain lingered, your head no longer felt like it was going to explode. 

Slowly, you pulled open your wardrobe and shifted through your options wishing there was something comfier and easier to wear instead of all these complicated dresses. 

You eventually settled on a simple tea gown which you were able to wear without a corset. As you were tying the back of the bodice, someone knocked on your door.

“Ms. Venable?” You questioned, stepping back as she invited herself into your bedroom. 

“Close the door,” she ordered, standing tall with both of her hands clasping her cane. 

You pushed the door closed, but remained far from Ms. Venable. She had never dropped in on you like this, and you didn’t like it. It felt too invasive, seeing her in your room acting as if she owned the place. You knew nothing good would come from this visit. 

“I want you to tell me more about the boy,” she demanded, her dark eyes boring into yours.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Hiding something?” She probed. 

“No,” you objected. “I’ve already told you everything I could remember.”

“Surely that’s not all,” she argued, giving you an incredulous look. 

After what Ms. Mead shared with her about the beautiful boy, Ms. Venable was now convinced that the two of you were speaking of the same boy. The way you both reacted emotionally while speaking of your love for him made it obvious. 

Now the big question was who was this boy? 

Since the beginning, Ms. Venable had suspected that there was a connection between Ms. Mead and you. This only solidified her suspicions that you and her knew each other from before, most likely through The Cooperative. 

This had to be why Ms. Mead had protected you, you were the one that should’ve been killed instead of Stu. But Ms. Mead had decided otherwise, despite the clear orders Ms. Venable had given her. No one would have cared or even noticed if you had died. You were an outlier, something unpredictable to the order she had created here. She wanted you gone. 

“Think harder,” Ms. Venable commanded, glaring at you. “Who is the boy?”

“I don’t know,” you pressed your back against the wall. 

She slammed her cane on the floor. “Worthless girl,” she snapped. “You have no idea what’s at stake here.”

You had to know something. The order she had worked so hard to cultivate was beginning to crumble, it was all in jeopardy because of the arrival of Langdon. He was pulling it all apart at the seams, revealing her lies and planting the seeds of disobedience. He brought chaos and disorder into her outpost while repeatedly undermining her authority. She needed to regain some sort of control, before it was too late. 

“What?” You furrowed your brows, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t understand, what does he have to do with anything?”

Ms. Venable practically snarled, “Liar.”

You jumped slightly as your door suddenly opened, revealing Michael standing on the other side. 

“Ms. Venable,” he began. “I’ve been waiting in my office for quite some time…I still have questions for Ms. y/n,” he explained, folding his arms behind his back.

Ms.Venable glared at Michael, clenching her jaw tightly, her hands practically shaking with irritation over the sudden disruption. 

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he warned.

Ms. Venable didn't budge, she didn’t like being played for a fool, you knew more than you were letting on and she could see now that there was something going on between you and Langdon. 

Micheal smirked, obviously amused.“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he stated, taking a step to the side gesturing for her to go. 

She huffed, her cane tapping on the floor as she finally took her leave.

“Mr. Langdon,” you said softly, tilting your head.

“Michael,” he corrected.

“Michael,” you started again. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting again so soon.”

He smiled, directing his attention to you. “I wanted to continue where we left off yesterday. And now that Ms. Venable is gone, we can.”

Your face flushed as you recalled how your interview with him ended. You could still picture his face just inches from yours, his lips parted as you leaned in towards him. You had wondered if  you had just a minute or two longer with him, what would’ve happened? Was he really going to kiss you?

“What are you thinking about?” He looked around your room, before approaching you, his hands wrapping around your elbows as he pulled you towards him.

“Nothing,” you answered in a small voice. 

He laughed lightly, “I’m sure it’s not nothing.” His fingers curled tighter around your arms. “Let’s see… does it have anything to do with me?”

You bit your lip and nodded. 

He smirked triumphantly. “You don’t have to be so nervous about that,” Michael mused. “I want you to think about me… to want me. Do you want me?”

You nodded again, not trusting your voice. 

“Good,” he murmured. “Considering how we might end up the last two people on Earth.”

You furrowed your brow as Michael reached up, his knuckle running along your cheek. 

“Which brings me to why I’m here,” he continued, lowering his hand making you immediately miss his touch as it left your skin. “I have important news, news that I wanted to deliver to you in person.”

He focused on your face with a serious look, “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, do you understand?”

“Yes,” you promised. 

Michael leaned down, his lips right by your ear. “You’ve been granted a spot at The Sanctuary.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. You couldn’t believe it. 

He smiled, placing his index finger over your lips. “This is our little secret.”

His finger lingered on your skin for a moment before he reluctantly released you. Smoothing out his coat, he gave you one last look, before leaving you there speechless. 

…

The complex multi-level underground structure of Outpost 3 was prone to creating strange moving shadows. It wasn’t dark figures following you in your peripherals. The fire and candle light that lit up each room and passage were unable to reach all the far corners. 

It was eerie at the beginning, constantly feeling like you had to look over your shoulder, but eventually you got used to it, like you did with the cubes, the complicated clothes, and the same song that played every damn day. It just became part of your reality. 

But lately you began to feel as though you were being followed by more than just the usual shadows, this new dark figure seemed more real, more solid. 

At first you blamed your mind, thinking it was playing tricks on you or mistaking the shadows for a real person. Since you weren’t getting much sleep, because of the vivid dreams and the horrendous headaches, it didn’t seem unreasonable to suspect that you might be hallucinating. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling, however. Unlike the shadows, it seemed to have more mobility, slinking along the walls or even the ceiling, watching you, but you were never able to get a good look at it. A few times, in the middle of night, you had jolted awake swearing that you had felt someone in bed beside you. 

You felt like you were losing your mind. 

Walking past the large fire in the atrium, you hoped that things would be better at The Sanctuary, less dreary and hopeless like the outpost had become. The change in scenery alone would be a welcomed change. 

You sighed thinking about what Michael had said about it just being you and him, you wished he had elaborated. 

Out of nowhere, you saw a dark figure move above you, against your better judgment you followed it, going up the stairs to a vacant room. 

You stood there frozen as a shadowy figure stood across from you. It tilted its head, staring at you. Its body was covered head to toe in latex. 

“Who are you?” You asked. 

It didn’t answer. 

“Michael?” You took a step closer, observing it more closely, wondering who or what it could be dressed like that. Your eyes wandered over its body, the tight fitting material left little to the imagination. 

It moved forward as well, extending its hand and caressing your cheek similar to how Michael had done earlier, but the texture of the latex on your skin made your skin crawl. It lacked the warmth and comfort Michael’s touch had brought you. The same touch that had excited you earlier, the same touch you craved to feel again. 

You squirmed as it laid its other hand on your waist. Desire radiated from its body as it pulled you closer. 

Fingers drifted up towards your chest. Your heart began to race, panic settling over you as you speculated what the strange creature would do next. 

The hand that had caressed your cheek trailed towards your neck. You inhaled sharply as its large fingers wrapped around your neck. 

Firmly you pushed it away from you. 

It tilted its head the other way, watching you attentively. For a moment you were worried that you had upset the person or creature, but it simply walked past you and out the door, seemingly satisfied. 

You stumbled backwards until your back hit a wall, releasing a shaky breath you had been holding in. 

The interaction was so odd and brief, that you couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. But something deep down told you it was a test. That Michael was testing you. 

Breathing in deeply, you tried to regain your composure. You knew it didn’t have any sort of malicious intent, it was more that you felt repulsed by the idea of anyone other than Michael touching you like that. 

You hoped you had seen the last of it. 

…

You were in the library when you heard that Evie had passed. You sat there for hours, in silence, as you tried to process the news. 

Gallant was at least courteous enough to find and tell you that she had died, emphasizing that she had died peacefully in her sleep. He held a somber expression, trying desperately to appear upset, nodding his head as he expressed that she had lived a long and fuller life than most. Too bad the crocodile tears he managed to muster were wasted, you were so despondent that you weren’t really listening anymore as he cried.

You weren’t sure how to feel about the situation, she had been a friend to you when you had no one, but you weren’t blind to her boasting and egotistical nature. You sure that in life she had more enemies than friends, even her own grandson barely seemed to tolerate her. 

There would be no funeral, no ceremony celebrating her life or to mourn her, everyone would just move on without a second thought. 

Your head shot up as you felt the couch dip beside you. 

Michael crossed his legs and propped his arm up on the back of the sofa, resting his head on his hand, as he turned his body towards you. 

“You’ve heard the news, I assume?” He asked, in a gentle tone.

You nodded as tears finally streamed down your face. Suddenly it all felt more real, now that Michael was here. Evie was really gone and your world seemed smaller now because of it. 

He rested his free hand over yours as you cried freely, his thumb caressing circles on the top of your hand. It took several minutes before you were able to compose yourself. 

“I know she wasn’t anyone’s favorite person,” you sniffled. “She rubbed people the wrong way, made everything about her, but Constance was my-“

You stopped speaking as you realized your mistake. 

Constance? 

The name had slipped from your lips so easily, like you had said it many times before, but that made no sense, you didn’t know anyone by that name, or did you?

Michael paused, his entire body becoming stiff as he peered at your face. 

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from. I’ve been getting these headaches and having the weirdest dreams.”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Perhaps, it’s your mind preparing itself for when your memories return. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

You wiped your face, and inhaled deeply, “Thank you for being here with me.”

“Of course,” he murmured, shifting in his seat and taking the hand he was holding and moving it to his lap. He reclined his head on the back of the sofa as you scooted closer to him, laying your head against his shoulder.

Michael stared at the chandelier, watching flames on the candles flicker with a pensive expression, his hand holding yours tighter as his thoughts drifted back to memories he had forbidden himself from revisiting. 

He had changed and grown so much over the past couple of years, but having you back by his side invoked so many emotions and memories. You were always there when he needed you, when he wanted you. 

He felt like such a monster after Grandma’s death. It left him wondering whether people were incapable of loving him because he was so wicked, evil. But you stayed with him, comforted him, loved him. You had knelt down beside him on the wooden floors, letting him cry upon your shoulder as you held him close... 

Michael blinked a few times, holding back tears. “You should get some rest,” he managed to say in an even tone. 

You stretched your arms over your head and nodded. Your entire body felt heavy. Once you arrived in your room you collapsed on your bed, passing out, too tired to dream. 

… 

Michael closed his laptop and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t focus on his work. The events from earlier had opened the floodgates, leaving him feeling like he was drowning inside. 

It was becoming such a struggle to keep you at arms length. Even without your memories he could see that you were still drawn to him, that you still cared for him, and it was taking all of his self restraint not to take advantage of that. 

There was nothing he wouldn’t give to have things like they were… to listen to you talk softly as you played with his hair or to reach out and hold your hand whenever he needed to.

But it was still too soon, he still had to keep you safe. 

He glanced at the trunk that held the few belongings he brought with him to the outpost. Laying on top was a book of yours, your favorite book. You had read it to him so many times that he grew to love it as much as you did. 

Closing his eyes Michael could picture the last time you read it to him, as clear as day, back in the old mansion. It was the middle of the afternoon, his head was resting on your belly as both laid together in his room, your nails were scratching his scalp. He had fallen asleep before you reached the end…

For nearly two years he tried to read it, but he never got very far, it was only a good book when you were reading it. 

Michael was sitting in front of the fireplace, head resting against his hand as he gazed into the flames. A worn book sat on his lap, forgotten. Just a few more days he kept reminding himself, he had worked so hard to get to this point, but soon he’d have everything he wanted. 

He turned his head as you opened the door and peeked in. 

“You wanted to see me?”

“That’s right,” Michael nodded, rising from his seat and taking a few long strides towards you. “I’ve heard you’ve read most of the books available in the library.”

“Not much else to do,” you smiled slightly, shutting the door behind you. 

“Would you like a new book to read?” He asked, looking down at you. “I have a feeling, you’ll really enjoy this one.”  He dangled the book that had been on his lap in front of you. 

You tilted your head, giving him a wary look, but as soon as you reached out to accept it, he pulled it away with a smug grin. 

Micheal tutted, shaking his head. “Not so quick, there’s a catch,” he teased, holding it over his shoulder. “If you want to read it, you have to read it to me.”

“Read it to you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, getting closer to you.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered.“Why?”

“So many questions,” Michael chuckled. “If you really don’t want to, I could ask one of the others, Gallant, maybe? Or Coco?”

“I’ll do it,” you blurted out, the thought of him asking someone else smacked you with a bout of anxiety, making your heart jump into your throat. Again you made a reach for the book, and this time he allowed you to take it. With a smile, he relinquished the hardback book to you, and headed back towards the fireplace. 

Gracefully, he shucked off his black coat and laid it on the back of one of the chairs. As you were about to sit on the other armchair, he stopped you and offered you his hand, guiding you to the rug on the floor. 

You knelt down on your knees first, before trying your best to get comfortable on the floor. The tight bodice and large skirt on your dress limited your mobility.

You were caught off guard as Michael joined you, resting his head upon your lap as stretched out on the carpet. His face looked up, his attention all on you as he waited for you to start. 

Clearing your throat, you opened the book to the first chapter and started reading. Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his arms laying across his chest as you read in a soft and steady tone. 

Michael was right, you immediately became engrossed in the story and attached to its characters. Time passed comfortably between the two of you as if this were a regular occurrence or activity. Absent-mindedly, you played with Michael’s hair, casually twirling the silky strands around your finger. He slowly opened his eyes gazing at the fireplace with the same vulnerable expression you had briefly seen before. 

He snatched your hand, curling his fingers around your palm, with a firm grip he placed your hand on his chest holding it there with both of his. 

You stopped reading, and looked down at him. His head was still turned away from you, long blonde locks covering the side of his face. You could feel his heart beating under your touch. Your fingers slowly grasped the front of his shirt. Laying the book down, you reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear. 

Michael closed his eyes and gave a long drawn out sigh before immediately sitting up. 

“Michael?”

He didn’t answer as he got to his feet. 

Just then, two grays abruptly slid the large black doors open. Ms. Venable appeared heated, her lips forming a scowl as she stared daggers between you and Michael. 

“It’s time for dinner,” Ms. Venable reminded sharply. “You’ve already missed cocktail hour.”

Michael stepped in front of you, protectively, blocking Ms. Venable’s view of you. 

“My apologies,” he said, though his expression said otherwise.

Ms. Venable pursed her lips, her hand balling into a fist. Michael narrowed his eyes, standing tall, almost daring Ms. Venable to say something else with him present. Finally, she averted her gaze.

He lifted his coat from the chair and slipped it back on effortlessly. “I’ll escort her down.”

Michael waited until she left, before he helped you up. He still appeared irritated over the intrusion, acting unusually quiet. 

You placed your hand on his upper arm, guiding him to face you. Michael raised his brow as he looked down at you, a faint smile forming on his lips. 

Offering you his arm, he led you downstairs. 

…

Ms. Venable gathered everyone in the music room, purples and grays, under the guise of an emergency meeting. All eyes were on her as she began to speak of the hardships endured by all during the past months. 

“I believe now what we need is a moment of celebration,” she announced. “Which is why this weekend, as a gesture of goodwill, we will have a Halloween soirée.”

Gallant and Coco were the only ones to react with notable excitement. The rest of the purples seemed to question the real purpose of this masquerade.

You couldn’t help but notice the lack of Evie’s big personality in the room, the other purples seemed so dull by comparison. You missed her witty comments and humor. She probably had some interesting stories relating to Halloween. 

Gallant, perhaps reading your expression, added how it was a shame his grandmother wouldn’t be present. However, he did a piss poor job of pretending to be sad. You wanted to roll your eyes at the comment, but resisted.

With everyone present in one room, with the exception of Michael, you were reminded that you had been selected for The Sanctuary. You were curious about who else Michael had chosen. 

You glanced briefly at Ms.Mead, if it were up to you, you would pick her to join. She was far more useful and resourceful than the others, and could handle stressful situations with a cool head from what you had witnessed. To you she was simply one of the best this Outpost had to offer. 

“I encourage you all to use your imaginations, to create what I am sure to be exquisite costumes,” Ms. Venable continued. 

Once again the only ones who appeared happy about this whole ordeal were Coco and Gallant. It seemed strange for Ms. Venable to be acting so out of character, for her to care about something as frivolous as Halloween or making amends to anyone. There had to be more to it all. 

Before dismissing everyone, she stressed, “Attendance is mandatory.” 

The day of the masquerade, you had spent most of the day primping and preening hoping to look your best for the night. Even though it seemed unlikely, a part of you was holding out hope that you would see Michael tonight. 

You did a little twirl in front of the full length mirror in your room. You were wearing a full length dark purple gown with an off -shoulder neckline made of silky ruffles. 

Arriving in the music room, you spotted Ms. Mead who entered with a cart carrying apples. You felt a flutter of excitement, watching as she started to add them to a a barrel of water. They looked so appetizing. The others began to gather around, stunned that there was fresh fruit. 

Looking at their faces as they stood around the barrel, you realized that you had left your mask upstairs. While they were all distracted with the fresh apples for the party, you snuck away and headed back to your room. 

Lifting the skirt of your dress, you hurried back up the steps, but slowed down immediately when saw Micheal standing on the landing. His hand was resting on the bannister, as he gazed down at you. 

“Are you heading downstairs?” You asked as you made your way up. 

Michael chuckled, “Afraid not.”

“Oh,” you said with a sad smile, trying to hide your disappointment. 

He offered you his hand as you took the last few steps up. Michael’s lips curled into a sneer as he examined you and your dress.

“Such an ugly color,” he criticized, his finger grazing over the dark purple fabric. “Doesn’t suit you at all.”

You glanced down at it, “There’s not much variety when it comes to color in my closet.” 

He hummed, his hands undoing his scarf. He held it up to your face, before wrapping it securely around your neck, “Now red,” he murmured. “Red looks good on you.”

You could feel your face heat up over the small compliment. 

Michael sighed as he took a moment to admire you, then leaned down, his lips close to your ear. “I bet you’d look even better in black.” 

He pulled back. “Come with me,” he invited. 

You bit your lip, looking back towards the stairs leading down to the music room. 

He shook his head and reached for your hand. “No one will even notice you're not there.”

“But Ms. Venable said attendance was mandatory,” you whispered, playing with one end of the scarf. 

Micheal frowned, his grip on your hand tightening, “I thought you’d want to spend time with me.”

“I do,” you said quickly.

“Then why are you hesitating?” He inquired, his voice steadily rising. “I can give you whatever you want, they can’t.”

You cupped his cheek, you hadn’t seen him become so emotional before, “I just wanted to try an apple, that’s all, but I’d rather be with you.”

He examined your face, his eyes practically staring straight into your soul. “That’s all?” He asked softly. 

With a deep breath, his calm and confident façade returned. Lacing his fingers with yours, Michael led you to his room. 

He motioned for you to have a seat on his bed, before he bent down and unlatched a black chest that was on the floor. From the chest he produced an apple. 

Michael held it out towards you, it was a deep rich red color and unblemished. It looked perfect. You only hoped it tasted as good as it looked. 

“Go ahead,” he urged, sitting by his desk and watching intently as you brought the apple to your lips. 

You moaned as you bit into it, savoring the satisfying crunch and the sweet taste as juice dribbled down your chin. You took several more bites, giggling a little as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

You suddenly felt self conscious as you realized Micheal was still watching, his gaze firmly fixed on you. 

“How is it?” He asked, shifting forward as he moved his elbows from his chair onto his knees. 

You hid your mouth behind your hand as you swallowed, “Delicious.”

“Is that right?”

“Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“I can think of something that tastes better,” he leaned forward, tilting his head and stroking his hand against your cheek and down to your neck as he pulled you closer. “It’s time for you to come back to me, y/n.”

His soft lips brushed against yours, before parting. His tongue lightly trailed over your lower lip, tasting the juice from the apple. You melted against him, your apple slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor as you held onto him. You closed your eyes, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling. 

Who would’ve thought a kiss would be so powerful? 

***flashback***

Micheal sat by the window, anxiously awaiting for your arrival. When grandma had shared that she was going out for the evening, and that you would be the one coming to watch him, he immediately perked up with excitement. 

“How much longer grandma?” He whined.

“Not much longer,” she replied, patting the top of her grandson’s head. 

Constance felt like she had hit the jackpot when you started sitting for her. After the last few babysitters, who had unfortunately met their demise here in her house, she feared that she’d never be able to go out alone or get a moment’s peace without having to add one death on her already guilt ridden conscience. But after that first night, when she entered her home and saw you alive and well with Micheal beside you just as happy as he could be, she honestly felt like the luckiest woman alive. 

“Now remember to behave yourself, Micheal,” Constance started. “We both like Ms. y/n very much, don't we? It would be such a pity if she wasn’t around anymore.” 

Micheal nodded his head, “I’ll be good.”

Now, Constance was no fool, she had her suspicions as to why her grandson made an exception when it came to you. The little dear had a crush on you, his first crush. It was truly sweet, watching him moon over you, almost made Micheal seem like a normal boy. 

“She’s here!” Micheal shouted, jumping out of his seat to greet you at the door. 

“Hi, Micheal,” you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, squeezing you tightly. 

“I missed you,” he mumbled, face pressed into stomach. 

“I missed you too,” you rubbed his back as he squeezed you even tighter. 

Constance smiled, grabbing her purse, “I’ll be back at 10. Have fun you two!”

“We will!” You replied, waving as she headed out. 

You crouched down, onto your knees, looking Michael eye to eye, “Why don’t you go pick out a movie, okay?”

Micheal nodded, rushing into the living room, and grabbing the TV remote before flopping onto the couch and scrolling through the channels. 

Micheal was by far the easiest kid you cared for, he followed your instructions, never had a tantrum or fussed, and always seemed so happy when you were around. 

There had been rumors circulating around the neighborhood that made you hesitant about accepting the position. Everyone had heard about the deaths in the house, of course, but rumors were now spreading about how those nannies and sitters were actually murdered. However, after getting to know Micheal and Constance, you were glad you took the job. There was no way this sweet little boy could’ve hurt anyone. 

He may have had some odd interests, but he just seemed so innocent. 

“What movie did you pick?” You asked from the kitchen as the popcorn finished popping. 

“The Omen,” he answered. 

“Are you sure you want to watch that one? It’s pretty scary,” you warned. 

“I’m sure.”

You shrugged, curling up on the couch beside him with a big bowl of buttery popcorn. You didn’t mind his interests, no matter how strange they might be to others. In your opinion, watching a horror movie was way better than watching The Wiggles or whatever else kids were into these days. 

After a while, you grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered your legs. Michael’s eyes were glued to the screen, but he managed to snuggle closer to you as you shared the blanket with him. 

You winced as the nanny jumped, the noose successfully snapping her neck. It had been a few years since you’ve watched this particular horror classic. Usually you weren’t so jumpy, but it took you by surprise. 

Michael shifted in his seat and looked at you. “It’s not his fault, right?” He asked in a small voice. 

You raised your brow, and sat up, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. “What Michael?”

“Damien and the stuff that’s happening, it’s not his fault, right?”

You looked back at the TV screen and thought about it for a moment. It was an interesting question. Damien is the son of the devil, but he’s still a child after all, and children are innocent and still learning about right and wrong. The contradictory nature of Damien’s existence is part of what makes the film so captivating. Makes the viewer wonder about all the evil people in the world and where it all went wrong for them. 

How much of Damien’s circumstance was his fault? He didn’t ask to be born, he had no control over who his father was… Does he understand that his desires are evil? Is he compelled to act on these impulses without choice? Does he have free will?

You could feel Michael’s gaze on you as you mulled it over. His eyes examined every little feature and movement your face made. His small hands gripped the knees of his pants as anxiety built up within him as he waited for your answer. 

“It’s complicated, I think,” you said. “It’s not all his fault but some of it is.”

Michael laid back on the couch as he processed what you said. “I’d never hurt you, y/n.”

He didn’t want you to end up like the others before, they didn’t come back and he was fine with that, but he’d feel terrible if that happened to you. The thought of you being gone forever made him feel a lot of things, sad, angry, lonely… he would never hurt you. 

…

“Well, don’t you look nice,” Constance complimented as she opened the door and invited you in. “If you had other plans, dear, you didn’t have to come.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I wouldn’t call being stood up plans.”

“His loss, Honey,” Constance reassured you, giving you a small pat on the arm. 

You had been waiting alone at the restaurant when Constance called you, you immediately accepted. You figured speanding time with Michael was better than going home alone to mope over some dumb guy anyways. 

“Where’s Michael?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t already bulldozed you with a hug. 

Michael peeked his head from around the corner, he was blushing bright red the moment he saw you. You never looked so pretty before. You were dressed up like a princess. 

You tilted your head and smiled, “Why are you being so shy, silly?” You knelt down with your arms wide open. 

Michael rushed over, looping his arms around you. 

“Sorry again about your date, dear,” Constance consoled you as she grabbed her coat. 

“I’ll be fine,” you laughed as she headed towards the door. “I’ve got Michael to cheer me up.”

He pulled away from you beaming, “I can do that.”

You smiled back at him and winked, “Why don’t we start our night with some ice cream?”

He nodded eagerly following you to the kitchen.

“So you were on a date?” Michael asked, hopping onto one of the stools at the breakfast nook. 

“Sort of,” you shrugged, getting ice cream out of the freezer and setting it on the counter to soften. “It’s not really a date when the other person doesn’t show up.”

“Is dating like getting married?” He inquired, swinging his legs back and forth. 

“No not exactly,” you answered without missing a beat, juggling your conversation while opening the fridge and grabbing the chocolate syrup and whip cream. “Dating is more of a step towards getting married, people date to figure out if they want to marry the person.”

Michael nodded, “What do you do on a date?”

“Oh, all sorts of things,” you grabbed bowls from the cabinet. “Watch a movie, go out to dinner, walk in the park, just any activity where I can talk and get to know the other person.”

“Are we dating?” Michael asked with an earnest look. 

You paused, still holding the bowls, as you turned around to face him. The question caught you completely off guard. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, we do all those things together,” he explained. “We eat together, watch movies, play at the park, talk…”

You laughed, “you’re right, we do do all those things together.”

“So we’re dating?”

You sighed, fishing through the drawer for the ice cream scooper. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we’re not.”

“Why not?” He asked, concern written all over his face. “Don’t you like me?”

“Of course I do,” you murmured, handing him a bowl and a spoon and ruffling his hair. “But when it comes to dating, you should pick someone that's the same age as you.”

“Grandma doesn’t,” he said bluntly. 

You bit your lip, trying hard not to laugh or smile, he wasn't wrong. You took a moment to think about your next words carefully. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you have to be an adult.”

Michael sighed and nodded, picking at his food. He hated all those ‘when you're older’ things. “So will you date me when I’m an adult?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind dating an ugly old lady,” you teased. 

“Don’t say that,” he declared, his blue eyes fixated on you, full of determination. “You’ll always be beautiful.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead, “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

…

Michael was overjoyed, his prayers had been granted overnight. He had gone to bed wishing, begging, to be older, to be an adult. He was so desperate to be with you, he never wanted anything so badly. 

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his fingers examining his older face, he turned his head side to side, wondering if you would still think he was cute. 

Constance was still so rattled from the shock of finding a full grown Michael asleep in his small bed, that she hadn’t been able to stop shaking all morning. 

Michael couldn’t wait to show you the new him. He bounced downstairs to find grandma, she needed to call you, invite you over right now so you could see. 

When he first asked, she made up an excuse saying you were too busy, but as days passed he began getting more and more irritable, throwing tantrums, whining and crying for you to come over. 

She disconnected the phone. That pushed him over the edge. He screamed, yelling that he hated her, while yanking the phone and cord off the wall. 

But she couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk Michael calling you or you calling the house. 

Constance was worried for your well being, how could you accept what she couldn’t, if you refused him after what he did for you, how he grew up just for you, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to end your life. In a strange way, you represented the last small piece of humanity that Michael had. It would be a shame if he snuffed it out. 

He couldn’t sleep, he was still so angry, why was grandma doing this to him. Why was she being so mean? He balled his fists, breathing fast. He didn’t want to listen to her anymore or follow her dumb rules or do anything she says…

Michael seemed to have blacked out after that, because the next thing he knew his hands were wrapped around his grandmother’s throat. He gasped, tears falling from his eyes as he finally let her go. 

He didn’t mean to. 

The next day Constance called the priest. She had no other alternatives. She had never in her life been so afraid. But when that fell through, and she saw the priest dead on the floor, she finally snapped. 

…

All morning you kept looking at your phone, thinking any minute it would light up and ring. When you hadn’t heard from Constance, you became concerned. Typically you watched Michael at least three days a week, if not more. But by the time the afternoon rolled around, and you still hadn’t heard a thing, you decided to call. 

You tapped your foot anxiously as you held your phone to your ear, but your stomach dropped when a robotic voice informed you that the line was no longer in service. 

Dropping the phone, you immediately bolted out the door. Fortunately, you lived nearby as you began to sprint towards their house. Your mind was racing, as you assumed the worst had happened. You prayed that they were both safe. 

You came to a sudden stop, as you stood across the street from their house, a young man emerged from the front door in a hurry. He seemed completely distraught, walking barefoot, tears streaming down his face, eyes bloodshot. 

You jogged towards him. “Are you okay?” You asked, voice laced with concern. 

He lifted his head at the sound of your voice. “Y/n?” The man gasped, immediately reaching out for you. 

You took a few steps back, the poor boy looked like you had just punched him in the gut. 

He started crying harder, “Don’t you recognize me?”

You narrowed your eyes, gently placing your hands on his cheeks, directing his face side to side, so you could get a look at him. He was beautiful, gorgeous even, with a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and clear blue eyes. 

“Michael?” You whispered. Looking into his eyes, you knew it was him, even though it was impossible.

“Grandma’s mad at me,” he wailed, his hands clinging to your shirt as he buried his face against your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back.

“Will you take care of me, y/n?” He sobbed. 

“Of course-“ you stopped talking as Constance came outside. 

Her face was hard and stoic as she watched you and Michael before she motioned for you to come into the house. 

“Let’s go inside,” you murmured, brushing his hair away from his eyes. 

At first Michael didn’t budge as he looked over his shoulder back at Constance. 

“It’s alright,” you encouraged him, taking his hand and walking back to the house. 

Constance forced a smile as she greeted you, “You’re taking this better than I did.” 

She gave Michael a cold look, who immediately looked down at his feet as he shuffle into the house,

Once inside, the reality of the situation sunk in as you sat across from a full grown Michael, who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He stared up at you full of adoration. 

“So you’re older now…” you began. 

He beamed, “Yep! I did it for you.”

“You… did this for me?”

Michael nodded, his eyes still red from crying. 

“How?”

He shrugged, “I just wished for it really really hard. I never wanted anything more.” His face turned serious, 

“So what do you think?” 

“What do I think?” You repeated. You were still trying to figure out why he did this for you. You glanced at him and saw his hopeful expression. “I think… you look very handsome.”

“So you like it?”

“Of course, I do. You did it for me.”

The next day Constance invited you over. Michael was still in his room when you arrived. She seemed tired, distant, expressing that she wasn’t up to going out. 

“Y/n, dear,” Constance laid a hand on your shoulder. “Mind taking Michael out for a bit? Could do him some good to get out of the house.”

“Sure,” you nodded, before heading upstairs. Outside Michael's room you could hear the TV, the sound effects gave away that he was busy playing a video game.

“Hey Michael,” you said, leaning against the doorframe to his room. “Want to go out with me?”

“Like a date?” He perked up like a little puppy, dropping his video game controller on his bed. 

“Sure,” you laughed. You had never seen him move so fast as he scrambled to his closet and grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and a jacket, putting them on in record time. 

“I’m ready,” he said eagerly, taking your hand in his and practically raced down stairs with you stumbling behind him. “Bye Grandma!”

It felt odd, not in a bad way, just different. 

Michael was obviously adjusting to his older body. He wasn’t used to being so big or strong, and he was still behaving with the same amount of energy as a boy would, like holding your hand with all his might. 

He blushed as you explained that he had to loosen his grip a little because he was so strong now, but you still found his enthusiasm endearing. 

“So what would you like to do today?” You asked him. 

“Let’s go to the park, then have milkshakes,” he said animatedly. 

The two of you walked to the neighborhood park, taking a small stroll around the pond watching the ducks swim. Suddenly Michael bolted towards the playground, dragging you behind him. 

“The swings are open!” He shouted. 

“Michael,” you half laughed, half shouted, trying to keep up with him. 

“Come on,” he said, letting go of your hand and grabbing the swing chains. “I’ll push you!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, embarrassed. 

“Please,” He rocked the swing side to side. “It’ll be fun!”

You shook your head as you finally relented, unable to resist his puppy dog eyes.

He grinned, holding the swing steady as you sat down. “Hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear before he started pulling the swing back. 

You giggled as you swung forward then back again, his hands catching you each time and pushing you higher and higher. Michael was busy enjoying himself, listening to you laugh as he pushed you harder, he forgot to pay attention to how hard he was pushing you and accidentally pushed you too hard. 

You fell forward, landing on your hands and knees. Hissing, you moved so you could sit properly. You bit your lip, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you tried to bend your knee to get a better look. You had a large gash that stung, 

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. Michael’s heart was hammering in his chest, he had never seen you upset before… your pain, your tears, hurt him more than the angry words his grandma had shouted at him yesterday. 

“I’ll be alright,” you said, mustering up a smile for him. 

Michael winced watching the blood drip down your calf. He thought about how the other nannies and sitters bled when they made him mad, they didn’t come back after that. Would you leave him now too? 

You scanned the area, hoping there was a bathroom or drinking fountain nearby so you could at least wash some of the blood off. 

“Here,” Michael said, taking a hold of your leg as he thought of a way to fix it. “I’ll kiss it better.” 

“You don’t have to-“

But he pressed his lips to your knee before you could stop him. The kiss lingered longer than the quick peck you had expected him to give. His eyes were closed, deep in concentration. Lifting his head, he licked the smear of blood off his lips. 

“All better,” he chirped. 

You ran your fingers over your knee, the cut was gone leaving your knee looked as good as new. “Michael, how did you…” 

You dropped the subject as you looked up at him, golden hair shining in the sunlight as he sat back in the grass. It seemed stupid to ask, healing your knee was probably easy compared to changing his age or any of the other strange things he had accomplished. 

“Can we go get a milkshake now you?” Michael yawned. “I’m hungry and tired.”

“Sure,” you replied, still dazed. 

He held out both of his hands to you, helping you up off the ground, and immediately laced his fingers with yours as he started leading the way. 

Michael insisted on sharing a milkshake with you, explaining he had seen couples doing that on TV. The two of you found a table near a window by the corner. 

“Want the cherry?” You asked Michael, using the tip of your straw to push it to his side. 

Right away he plucked it from the cup and popped it into his mouth with the exception of the stem. “Thanks,” he grinned, still chewing. 

“You’re very welcome,” you leaned forward taking a big sip. 

Michael bounced, “This has been the best date!”

You chuckled, “It really has been great.”

Out of nowhere, he leaned across the table and kissed your cheek. It was a quick and innocent little peck, but his face was beet red when he sat back down. You bit your lip thinking about how cute he was acting. 

Walking home, Michael smiled, a full genuine smile, his eyes lighting up as he gazed down at you. “I like being taller than you,” he laughed. 

You smiled back at him, your hand clasped together with his, swinging them between you. As you entered the house, you immediately noted how quiet it was. Something was wrong. 

“Constance, we're back,” you called out as you closed the door. You waited for a reply, but all there was was silence. 

“Michael,” you said softly, turning to him. “Wait right here, I’m going to go upstairs. Your grandma is probably just taking a nap.”

Michael watched you as you went upstairs, he didn’t understand why you seemed so distressed. He tried to wait like you had asked him to, but Grandma was probably just next door. She did that sometimes. 

He looked out the window towards the vacant house then back toward the direction you had gone. He could be back with Grandma before you’d even realize that he had left. 

“Grandma?” Michael called wandering into the large old house. He furrowed his brow, running towards the couch when he saw her. “Grandma?” 

His heart sped up when he saw her. 

“Grandma,” Michael crumbled to his knees. “Hey, wake up.” With shaky hands he held her. 

She didn’t move or breathe, her heart had stopped beating… Michael knew a dead body when he saw one, she was gone. This was all his fault, he drove her to this. There was something wrong with him. 

“I’m sorry,” he cried, hugging her lifeless body. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh God,” you covered your mouth as you finally found Michael and Constance. “Michael,” you stumbled towards him, immediately taking him in your arms and cradling him against you. 

“This is all my fault,” he sobbed, curling his knees to his chest, hands clutching your arm. “I’m a monster.” 

“No, you’re not a monster,” you soothed. “You didn’t do this.”

You rocked Michael in your arms, your eyes surveyed the living room, there was an empty pill bottle left discarded on the nearby coffee table along with a glass of liquor. You couldn’t understand why she would kill herself.

“I-I should call someone,” you said, trying to hold yourself together. 

“Don’t call the police,” a man’s voice advised seemingly out of nowhere. 

You snapped your head around and stared wide eyed at the dark haired man who just appeared out of nowhere. He was sitting in one of the arm chairs, legs crossed with relaxed posture. 

“They’ll just take Michael away. You don’t want that do you?” He asked you in a calm voice. 

You shook your head, your sweet Micheal had been through enough already, “Who are you? I thought this house was vacant.” 

The man blatantly ignored your questions and continued, “You should go pack Michael’s things, He’s going to be staying here with us for a while.”

Michael’s hands gripped you tightly. “Will you stay with me?” He croaked.

You could feel the man’s eyes on you, observing your reaction closely. Gently, you wiped Michael’s eyes, then tilted his head up. “Of course, I’ll stay with you.”

Michael sniffled, “Forever?”

You swallowed, glimpsing at Constance’s lifeless form then back to Michael. “Forever.”

The man stayed with Michael as you went next door. You felt like you were on autopilot as you folded his shirts and packed them into a duffle bag. 

Your life was about to change drastically, but you couldn’t refuse him. You couldn’t just abandon him when he needed you the most, especially not after the only family he had killed herself. 

You knew Michael was different, very different, but he still needed someone, someone that could accept and love him even with all the terrible and strange things that came with him… he needed you.

It didn’t take you long to piece together that Ben and the others in the house were ghosts, or perhaps they preferred spirits. 

Living in a haunted house took some getting used to. Michael adjusted faster than you did, you were secretly grateful that he wanted to share a room with you, so at least you weren’t alone at night. 

It was unnerving seeing them from the corner of your eye, only for them to disappear when you turned your head. Ben was the only one you had officially met so far, but you were aware that his family along with many others were trapped in the house. 

Michael quickly began to view Ben as a father figure. They spent a lot of time together playing games and having long conversations. 

You were happy that Michael was opening up to someone. From what you had gathered Ben was a psychologist, you hoped that he’d be able to help Michael, especially with the trauma of losing Constance. 

… 

You were doing laundry and other little chores around the house while Michael was busy with some father and son bonding with Ben. 

As you were getting clothes out of the dryer and into a wicker basket, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking up, you saw a young man with blonde hair like Michael’s staring at you from the doorway. 

Clutching Michael’s yellow t-shirt, you stared back at the man, who then sneered and simply vanished. You stayed planted there for several seconds as you wondered who he was. 

“Don’t let him get to you,” a woman’s voice said gently. You whipped around to see a woman with long 

strawberry blonde hair. 

“He won’t do anything,” she explained with a half smile. “Probably more curious than anything else.”

You furrowed your brow, “Curious about what?”

“You,” she answered. “And about why you’ve stayed.” Her eyes traveled to the shirt in your hands. “Guess some of us are just surprised you’ve stuck around.”

“Because Michael’s different from everyone else?” you questioned.

“That’s one way to put it,” she sighed and leaned against the washing machine. “He’s… he acts differently around you. You mean a lot to him.”

Looking at her sorrowful expression, it seemed like there was something she else wanted to say. You jumped as a baby began to cry. 

“I have to go,” she said, excusing herself. 

You sighed, shaking your head, living with ghosts was like having a bunch of eccentric roommates sometimes. You dropped Michael’s shirt with the rest of clean laundry in the basket, then knelt down to lift it up. Walking into the living room, you found Michael and Ben. 

Michael sprung off the couch and darted towards you. 

“So what did you and Ben do today?” You chuckled. 

“We just talked,” he replied, taking the basket from you. You waved to Ben before you and Michael headed up stairs. 

“Oh, about what?”

Michael shrugged, “Just stuff.” He paused mid-step and cleared his throat. “You look really pretty today.”

You bit your lip, face heating up a bit. Despite all the compliments Michael gave you daily, he had this way about him that made you believe every little one, even on a day like this where you were dressed in just joggers and a tee. 

“Thank you, Michael.”

…

Ben was gone. 

Michael sat there between the bodies, crushed as another parental figure abandoned him. Questions ran through his mind. Why did everyone leave? What was wrong with him? How could he do these things?

Sniffling, his eyes widened as you stepped in. His pulse spiked and he began to panic. He didn’t hear you come back to the house.This wasn’t part of his plan, you weren’t supposed to see this. 

You were quiet, so quiet with a vacant look in your eye as you stared at all the blood on the floor. 

Ben, Tate, grandma had all yelled at him, they called him a monster or a freak or a coward, but you didn’t say a word. 

You had seen what he had done, seen the bodies for yourself. You looked at him with a sadness in your eyes that Michael couldn’t bear. You simply retreated back up to the room you and him shared. 

Tears spilled freely down his face as he sat on the floor. Michael had never been so scared in his life. Were you in there packing your belongings? Were you going to leave? What would he do without you?

That’s why he had to kill them in the first place, because he didn't want to be separated from you. There was no other way. The new owners would call the police once they found out you and him were living there, and the police would take him away from you.

Michael had noticed how stressed it had made you too. He could sense your worry, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. From the very moment the realtor took the for sale sign down, you and him both knew everything was at risk. 

He just wanted to keep that from happening, he was happy here with you, happier than he had ever been. So he killed the new owners and got rid of them for good, this was his home now. 

He curled into himself, hands over his head as he wailed. 

“Michael?” Your voice was so soft that he didn’t hear you at first when you returned. “Michael, you should change.”

He peeked up, surprised you came back. You kept your distance, not crossing the threshold as if there was an invisible barrier. “Y/n?”

“You should change out of that,” you said again, looking at the black latex suit he was in.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he nodded, slowly getting to his feet. 

Going into the bathroom, he noticed you had set out some clean clothes for him to change into. 

Even though you were waiting for him in the room, the fear of you abandoning him hadn’t left. Michael hadn’t expected it when his grandmother left him. Were you just waiting for an opportunity to leave him? Lull him into a false sense of security then abandon him when he least suspects it?

Michael shook his head, you wouldn’t do that. 

“She’s not going to leave,” he whispered to himself before he pulled the clean white t-shirt on and the pair of pajama bottoms you had picked out for him. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed when he emerged from the bathroom. You weren’t acting like yourself and it worried him. He noticed you hadn’t moved a muscle since he went in, you had just been staring at your hands the whole time. 

Michael’s fingers curled and uncurled as he awkwardly stood there. Wishing he knew what to say or do to make things right. 

“I’m sorry,” he started suddenly, falling to his knees in front of you. “I just didn’t want to be taken away from you. I didn’t want to leave this house.” He took your hands in his, looking up at you with genuine concern.

You nodded, you were able to piece that much together. Michael was scared and he handled the situation the only way he could, the only way he believed would keep you and him together. It was just a lot to process. 

Michael was your sweet boy, you never would have believed he was capable of something so terrible, but what was even more frightening for you was how you seemed to just accept it so easily. You weren’t mad or upset at him. Logically, you should’ve wanted to be far away from him after seeing those bodies on the floor, but looking at his face, you still cared for him, loved him. 

“We should get some rest,” you suggested. 

Michael swallowed thickly, climbing into the bed beside you as you turned out the lights. 

He couldn’t sleep, he was afraid that if he closed his eyes you’d take the chance and leave him in the middle of night. You felt both of his hands grip the back of your nightgown as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back. 

His mind kept returning to the fact that you had seen the truth, what he was capable of. Why did things have to change?

“Michael?” You could feel him tremble against you as he started sobbing again. When he didn’t respond, you tried to sit up, but that only made him cry harder while his fingers curled tighter, trying to keep you from leaving. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whimpered. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. 

He finally loosened his grip. 

You rolled over onto your side. Laying face to face, you brushed away his tears. 

Even in the dark, Michael thought you were the most beautiful person in the world. Always so kind and loving, he wanted to keep you forever. 

“Come here,” you said, opening your arms to embrace him. He rested his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 

“I’ve hurt people, not just the ones from earlier,” Michael admitted, swallowing thickly. “And I think I’m going to keep hurting people.”

Your fingers soothingly scratched his scalp as you held him close. He took in a deep breath, working up the nerve to finally ask the questions that were truly bothering him. 

“Can you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. “Even though I’ve done bad things?”

“I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” you answered without pause. “It’s a little scary for me to think about, that’s all.”

“You’re scared of me?” He asked, hurt evident in his voice. 

“No, I’m not afraid of you,” you reassured him, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s just that loving someone this much is scary.”

“I love you the same way,” Michael explained. “I’ll never stop loving you, y/n.”

…

The house was unbearably warm.

The heat left you drained, barely able to lift a finger, even though you just woke up. You kicked the sheets off but remained in bed, even that small action left you feeling exhausted. 

You laid there, still, listening to the hoarse caws of the crows that seemed to appear overnight. They lingered around the house, circling it at night. 

“Y/n?” Michael called. You usually didn’t sleep in so late, it was almost the afternoon. 

You smiled weakly at him, “Morning.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” you stretched your arms over your head on the bed. “And warm.”

Michael didn’t seem bothered by the strange heat that seemed to smother you. The air from the basement all the way to the attic was hot, there was no escaping it. 

“Can you get me some water?” You croaked.  

Michael nodded, heading downstairs and quickly returning to you with a glass of ice water. You shamelessly drained the glass, droplets rolling down your chin and neck. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, handing him the empty glass, before falling back onto your pillow. 

He stood there for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he could do. You looked so miserable, strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, your nightgown hiked up to cool your legs. 

Going into the bathroom, he prepared a washcloth with cold water. The bed dipped as he sat next to you, tenderly he dabbed the washcloth over your face. You hummed appreciatively, extending your neck as he moved it lower. He stroked the cloth over your collarbone, then down closer to your chest. 

He watched it rise and fall, hypnotically, your skin looked so soft, so tempting. Ben had talked to him about these kinds of feelings, about men and women and romantic love. He had said this was the kind of talk all fathers should have with their sons. He has seen Michael wanting to be closer to you, his desires to feel your skin against his. Ben assured him that it was natural and a completely normal part of growing up. But Ben had also made it clear that there were lines Michael couldn’t cross, lines that if he didn’t follow, he would end up hurting you. 

Michael sighed, pulling his hand away. Folding the wash cloth, he laid it on your forehead before leaving. 

…

Michael headed downstairs when he heard the front door open. You were still in a deep sleep as he tiptoed out of the room. He paused, finding three uninvited guests were standing in the entryway by the staircase. 

“I am in the presence of my Lord,” the man gasped and bowed. The two women behind him followed in suit. 

“Who are you?” Michael asked, tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I am Anton LaVey, Black Pope of the Church of Satan,” the man introduced himself, then turned to his colleagues. “And there are my cardinals. I faked my death to prepare for this day.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael walked slowly down the steps. “What’s going on here?”

“We followed a dark start from the west,” one of the cardinals explained eagerly. “The signs were impossible to miss: the temperature in this house, a home built over the portal to Hell, and the crows worshiping from above.”

“The omens are complete,” the other one added. “You’re the chosen one.”

“The time has come to remove the scales from your eyes, to show you your true power,” Anton stated.

Michael smiled, full of excitement, “Alright, just make sure you’re quiet, y/n is sleeping.”

…

You woke up to the sound of hail falling on the roof. It frightened you at first. Instead of the typical soothing sounds of rain or hail, this was louder, more violent, like large stones crashing from the sky. 

You wondered if the storm was the source of the strange dreams you had all night, now you could only recall the screams from them. 

Slipping out of bed, you walked to the window drawing the curtains. The night sky was a strange color, dark red clouds hung above the house coupled with a full red moon. You watched the bizarre weather outside, red rain mixed with rock sized hail. The storm seemed to at least alleviate the constant heat in the house.  

Turning around, you noticed Michael’s absence from the bed. Wrapping a white sheet around your shoulders, you wandered downstairs to find him. Reaching the dining room, you found Michael with three strangers wearing black and red cloaks. 

There was blood on the table and floor, but no body. 

Michael beamed at you and offered you his hand, “y/n, I’ve got something to tell you.”

The Antichrist, it should’ve come as more of a shock, but with all the insane things that have happened lately, it made sense. It also should’ve changed how you felt, but it didn’t, Michael was still Michael. While there was no doubting the evil he was capable of, you still saw all the good, all the love. 

How could you hold it against him?

Michael laid there, eyes wide open as you slept beside him. He knew his mother was coming, that she planned on ending his life. 

The woman hadn’t bothered to speak to him, see him, and just like the rest of his supposed family, she was going to hurt him too. Sadly, he was no longer surprised by any of this. 

He could feel her approaching, a knife held tightly in her fist as she prepared to bring it down and end his life. Without having to move a muscle, Michael conjured up flames that ignited around Vivien’s feet. 

Her screams jolted you awake. Another spirit, the one you had briefly seen before, saved her while you tried to stop Michael. 

“She was going to kill me,” he argued. 

You saw the knife discarded on the floor for yourself. This house was no longer a safe place for Michael or yourself. The same day you and Michael left the old mansion. 

…

Living with Ms. Mead wasn’t what you had expected. It was surprisingly wholesome with meals shared at the dining table and family outings every weekend. If it wasn’t for the satanic altar, you’d probably forget that she was a satanist altogether. 

Ms. Mead treated you both well. Welcoming you into her home as if you and Michael were family. At first, you had been worried that she wouldn’t accept having you around, but she was just as warm and friendly with you as she was with Michael. 

“What do you think?” Michael asked as he emerged from the bathroom in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Ms. Mead had taken him shopping for clothes. Michael was excited to show you what they had picked out. 

You sat the nail polish on the nightstand as you sat up, giving Michael your full attention. 

“Black looks good on you,” you approved, looking him up and down. The outfit definitely suited him, much better than his old clothes. 

He smiled, obviously proud of his choices. “What were you doing?” He asked as he joined you on the bed, criss crossing his legs.

“I was just painting my toenails,” you shrugged. 

Michael gently touched your calf, his fingers tracing over your skin down to your ankle, while he admired your freshly painted toes. 

“Want me to paint yours?”

He yanked off his boots and socks, tossing them on the floor and causing you to laugh. You rearranged yourself so you were sitting on your knees. Michael’s pale boney feet rested on your thighs. 

“What color do you want?” You asked. 

“Black.”

He laid back on the bed, feet on the head board as he wiggled his toes while he waited for them to dry. 

“Read to me,” Michael requested in a whiny tone. “Please,” he added quickly as you lifted your brow.

You grabbed the worn book, opening it to where you left off, but before you started reading Michael interrupted you. 

“Here, lay next to me,” he offered, wiggling to the other side of the bed to give you room. 

You stretched out beside him, side to side, and started reading. It didn’t take long before Michael’s head was on stomach and his arm draped over your hips as he cuddled against you. He closed his eyes listening to the sound of your voice as it lulled him to sleep. 

You tucked the bookmark back into the book and sat it on the bed. Absentmindedly you ran your fingers through his hair. 

Over such a short time, he had changed so much, and not just physically, he was acting older, demonstrating maturity and restraint, although he still had his moments like this where he wanted to be held and babied. But, you figured, everyone had moments like this even if they never ask for it. 

You perked up when you noticed Ms. Mead standing in the doorway. How long has she been watching? 

“Let him sleep,” she said softly. 

Carefully you moved Michael and covered him with a blanket, then followed Ms. Mead into the kitchen. She had the tea kettle on the stove. 

“You really do love him, don’t you?” Ms. Mead asked, looking at you curiously. While she had been courteous towards you, she was curious about the true nature of your relationship to Michael. 

You tilted your head, wondering where this was coming from all of a sudden. 

“I’m just surprised,” she explained. “Not many people could accept him for what he is, even more so, someone who isn’t a follower of his father. But I’m glad to know that you truly care for him.” She motioned for you to have a seat at the table, and placed a cup of tea on a little saucer in front of you. 

You thanked her, before gently blowing on the hot cup and taking a sip. 

“He obviously adores you, which is why I allowed you to come with him,” she continued, taking her seat across from you with her own cup. “Guess I just feel protective of him already, wanted to see for myself if you were just stringing him along.”

You laughed slightly and shook your head, “I know what you mean, I was worried about you too. But you treat him just like a mother would, and I know he loves you for it.”

You and Ms. Mead smiled at each other while you finished your cup of tea. Your smile grew wider as a sleepy Michael slowly staggered into the kitchen. 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Can we have pancakes for dinner?”

“Of course, dear,” Ms. Mead obliged. 

…

Michael had been arrested, leaving you a complete mess waiting at the station with Ms. Mead. The police 

refused to let you see him no matter how much you begged and pleaded. 

You were sitting in the lobby, staring at the assholes who wouldn’t let you see Michael, when a man dressed in a fine suit with a black hat came in, he strode right past the officers and straight to the holding cells with one of the guards leading the way. 

A few minutes later the well dressed man and Michael were heading directly to the exit. You immediately followed them out. 

You cupped Michael’s cheek, thumb caressing the red swollen mark by his eye. “Did they do that to you?”

“It doesn’t hurt too much,” he reassured you, placing a hand on your waist. 

Ariel cleared his throat, standing next to a black vehicle, “Michael it’s time for us to leave.” His gaze landed on you, a small sneer forming on his lips. 

Michael nodded, opening the car door for you. 

Ariel’s eyes went wide, “I’m afraid she can’t come with us. Our school is exclusively for warlocks.”

“Then I won’t be going,” Michael stated flatly, slamming the car shut.  

Ariel’s jaw dropped, “I saved you… I’m offering to take you to a place where you can flourish… where you can reach your full potential. You’re going to throw that all away for some woman?”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “I’m not leaving her, ever,” he stressed. 

Ariel scowled, grinding his teeth, he was considering using magic to force Michael in the car, but if Michael truly is the Alpha, like he suspects, then it would be suicide. His eyes darted to you, if he attempted to do anything to you, it would be safe to assume that the consequences would be even worse than death. 

“It’s not like you’ll never see her again. A boy’s school just isn’t the right place for a young lady to be,” Ariel reasoned. 

“The only place for her is with me,” Michael said, raising his voice. The two men stared at each other, it was clear that Michael wasn’t going to budge on the matter. 

“Fine!” Ariel relented, yanking the car door open and getting in. It wasn’t going to be easy to get others to go with this foolishness, but he couldn’t afford to let the Alpha slip through his fingers. 

Michael pulled the door open and waited for you to slide into the backseat before he scooted in after you. He placed his hand over yours, possessively, eyes fixated on Ariel as cold anger radiated off of him. 

The school wasn’t what you had expected. The underground structure was large and warm, but despite the size and construction, you couldn’t help but compare it to a cave. Already, you missed fresh air and sunlight as you followed Ariel, Michael still holding your hand for comfort. 

When Ariel introduced Michael to the group, he didn’t say a thing about you, just sort glazed over the fact that you even existed despite the puzzled gazes of the male students and staff. 

After a short tour, you and Michael were led to the room you both would be sharing in. Once inside, Ariel finally addressed you, giving you a few simple rules, as he put it, to follow. 

You were never to wander the school without an escort. You had to keep your distance from the other students and take your meals at different times than everyone else. Finally you had to wear a uniform, it was similar to the boy’s uniform, but instead of slacks, you had a full length skirt. 

Ariel left the two of you to get settled in and gathered the others in his office to explain the situation. 

“So,” John Henry mocked. “Our supposed Alpha, the one who will overthrow The Supreme and lead us to the top, can’t be without his little girlfriend?”

Ariel huffed, “I understand the girl is an inconvenience, but she’s just a minor obstacle. Michael won’t need her now that he’s here with his brothers.”

“Doubt it,” John Henry muttered, taking a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you see the way he looks at her? She practically walks on water in his eyes.”

“We just need to separate them, wean him off her slowly,” Ariel explained. “Then he’ll discard her.”

“I don’t know,” Behold said, shaking his head, “Love and devotion is a powerful thing.”

John Henry rolled his eyes, “Right, because the 4 of us know what that’s like… none of us have ever cared about anyone but ourselves.”

…

You helped Michael straighten his bow tie, then brushed his hair out of his face. 

“Perfect,” you chirped, taking a step back to admire how handsome he looked in his school uniform. 

He smiled, fixing his lapel before his hands ran down the front of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Ariel and the others are expecting me,” he started. “But they haven’t told me what we’re doing.”

It’s been only a month since your arrival, but from what you had gathered, Michael took to magic like a duck takes to water. Everyday he surprised you with a new trick or spell. Just the other day he surprised you with a beautiful white rose turning the petals pitch black right before your eyes. 

“I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be amazing.”

“Wish they’d let me bring you,” he muttered, pouting a little as he looked at his reflection. 

You shook your head, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

Michael brought your hand to his chest, Ariel had been keeping him so busy with classes and studying that he felt like he barely had time for you lately. 

He didn’t appreciate being treated like a fool. He knew what his ‘brothers’ were up to, trying to keep him busy as if he’d just forget about you because he has homework. None of them could ever perceive the depths he’d go for you, hell, not even Michael fully knew how far he’d go to keep you by his side. 

Grudgingly, he released your hand, he didn’t want to have to listen to some lecture about tardiness from Ariel. And knowing Ariel he’d figure out a way to put all the blame on you, while making some snide comment about women and their inability to be punctual. The whole battle of the sexes between the warlocks and the witches was getting old. 

Later that day, Michael returned to you with a bloody nose and his body completely drained of energy. You rose from your seat at the desk as he collapsed on the bed still dressed. 

First, you went to the adjoining bathroom, retrieving a damp washcloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently dabbed the dried blood from his face. 

“How did the meeting go?” You asked. “What did they want?”

“To evaluate me,” he explained, his eyes half lidded. “I passed,” he smiled weakly. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you said, scooting you to the end of the bed and undoing the buckles on his shoes, before slipping them off his feet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and snuggling against his pillow. 

…

You watched Michael, his body was completely tense, stockstill, except for the hand that was drawing rapidly without pause. It was like he was in a trance, listening to a voice that you couldn’t hear.

Michael couldn’t let the witches leave. Ariel and the others were useless, unable to convince the council, but Michael could, he would prove to them just how powerful he is. 

He gasped suddenly, taking you by surprise. Looking down, he admired his work, the Hotel Cortez, the gaping mouth of hell. 

Michael turned to face you, “I have to leave, but I won’t be gone long.” He smiled triumphantly, “I found a way to show them I’m the Alpha, that I’m the next Supreme.”

It was easy for him, of course, like taking a casual stroll through the park. One of the benefits of being the Antichrist, he figured, having dominion over hell and all evil places born from it. 

First he rescued Queenie, freeing her from the hotel, then they made a trip to Madison Montgomery’s personal hell. With his proof in tow, he returned to the school. 

Watching Cordelia pass out from the shock brought him more satisfaction than he anticipated, but hearing her admit that he could be the next Supreme was even sweeter. 

He stood there holding his head high with you at his side. While Cordelia addressed the group, sharing her vision. It was ironic that a vision warning her of the end, was the final straw, finally convincing her to allow him to attempt the Seven Wonders. 

“In two weeks' time, at the rise of the blood moon, you will take the test of the Seven Wonders,” she announced, eyes locked with Michael’s. “That is, if you still want to.”

Everyone turned to face him, awaiting his decision. He glanced at you, squeezing your hand tightly before letting it go as he approached Cordelia. 

“I do.”

Myrtle Snow knitted her brow, it hadn’t escaped any of their attention that there was a woman on the side of the warlocks. 

“My dear,” she began, getting your attention. “Why are you here? You’re not a witch, are you?”

“I’m not,” you shook your head with a polite smile. 

“She’s with me,” Michael stated firmly, hands clasped behind his back as his gaze pierced Myrtle’s. 

“Of course, he’s got a girlfriend,” Madison rolled her eyes. 

Cordelia inhaled deeply as she returned to the matter at hand. “No male has ever made the attempt,” she warned, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand. “And if you succeed, you will be the next Supreme, and it will change everything.”

On the cusp of the blood moon, the warlocks gathered to celebrate Michael. He almost threw a fit when Ariel informed him that you weren’t permitted to attend, adding that attendance for the ceremony was strictly warlocks. 

Ariel’s hands balled into fists as you talked Michael down, convincing him that for this type of occasion it was polite to respect tradition. 

Ariel was displeased that his plan wasn’t working. Michael’s attachment to you was still strong, the same as it was when he first arrived at the school. What good would it be to have an Alpha that bent to the will of a woman?

Michael insisted that tomorrow night you were present for the Seven Wonders, going as far as threatening to not perform if you weren’t there. 

When Ariel finally relented, Michael followed him downstairs for the ceremony. 

John Henry fled after the blessing. The following day when the witches had arrived to observe Michael’s abilities, John Henry still hadn’t returned. None of the other warlocks questioned his absence, instead they were focused on the daunting task at hand, hoping Michael could accomplish what no warlock had ever done before. 

Michael passed each test with ease to the dismay of the witches and to the satisfaction of the warlocks. 

Telekinesis, Concilium, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, Vitalum Vitalis… Michael made them look like child’s play. With each challenge Michael impressed you more and more, accomplishing magic that you had never imagined. His eyes would lock with yours and he’d smile triumphantly after each task as you cheered and congratulated him with the rest of the warlocks. 

Descensum was the final test and the most perilous. Michael was the only one who didn’t seem worried about the outcome. 

Unexpectedly, Cordelia added an additional condition, Behold was the first to object, the others soon followed. She requested for Michael to retrieve someone from the depths of hell, someone who failed this exact test.

“That’s impossible. Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever,” Behold defended. “Property of the underworld.”

“No other Supreme’s been made to this, ever,” Baldwin added. “This is not only unfair, this is suicide.”

“Enough,” Ariel spoke up with some urgency. “Cordelia, I need a word.” The Supreme and the Grand Chancellor retreated into his office for a private discussion. 

You tugged on Michael’s sleeve to get his attention, then guided him to the corner furthest from everyone in the room. 

“What is it?” He asked gently, immediately noting the anxious look on your face. 

“This sounds dangerous,” you started, fingers clutching his jacket sleeve tighter. “And now they’re making it even harder…”

He stepped closer to you, his hands cupping your face. “I can do this.”

“But what if you get trapped there like that other girl,” you whispered. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“That’s not going to happen. I’m stronger than she was,” Michael assured you. “Trust me.” He dried your eyes.

Taking your hand in his, he led you towards Ariel’s office. The doors opened revealing Cordelia and Ariel inside. 

“It’s okay,” Michael smiled. “I’ll get your friend back.”

Returning to the music room, Michael prepared for the final test. 

“Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi,” he chanted laying on the floor. You were right beside him, on your knees, while everyone else stood in a circle around him. “Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi, Descensum.”

You stayed seated by Michael as his eyes closed and his spirit descended to the underworld. The others got comfortable, finding seats and idly conversing with each other. 

Time seemed to slow down as you waited with bated breath for him to come back. The thought of losing him scared you more than anything ever had. Your whole life revolved around him.

Michael gasped, drawing in a deep breath as he sat up immediately. You pulled him into a tight hug, relieved that he returned to you. His energy obviously spent as he rested against you like a rag doll. 

The others gathered around. The witches automatically taking note that Misty hadn’t returned. 

“Well that’s that,” Madison said, crossing her arms. “C'est la vie.”

“This was not a fair test,” Ariel objected, concerned more with having lost the opportunity for a male Supreme than the harrowing task Michael had just been through. 

“What happened?” Cordelia asked. “Where’s Misty?”

Michael gave her a sideways glance, his face partially resting on your shoulder as you held him close, he looked at her disinterested before he buried the rest of his face in the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” Myrtle spoke up. “She’s right where she’s been.”

Suddenly dust manifested in the form of a woman’s body. Cordelia fell to her knees as Misty was revived. 

As the witches tended to their sister, the warlocks helped a weary Michael off the floor. He leaned against the table for support, still catching his breath from his recent excursion to hell. He reached out for you, placing his hands on your waist, as you stood between his legs with his head on your stomach, he drew comfort just by being near you. 

Michael straightened up as he felt Misty’s eyes upon him, his hands still lingering on your waist. His jaw tensed, noting her fearful expression. But before Misty could say anything, Cordelia stumbled back and her nose began to bleed.

“Oh my God,” Cordelia whispered. 

Misty went straight to her side, “What’s happening?”

“What always happens when a new Supreme rises,” Ariel interjected. 

“The old one fades away,” Behold explained. 

“We demand what’s ours,” Ariel added. 

Myrtle scoffed, “You’re a pompous ass.”

Michael stepped forward, an air of confidence and power about him. “I did everything you asked,” he started. “I descended into Hell, and I did what you couldn’t. I brought her back. I passed the Seven Wonders. Unless you want to add another one?” He challenged. 

“No,” Cordelia answered. “There can be no doubt. You are the next Supreme.” She collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness again. 

…

The staff and other students were beaming with pride over the accomplishments of their brother. Michael was elated, he was one step closer to fulfilling his purpose. 

In celebration of the return of Misty Day and the rise of a new Supreme, everyone gathered in the music room. While you were on your way to join the rest, Ariel stopped you. 

“Y/n,” He called. 

“Grand Chancellor,” you greeted.

He smiled, but it was obviously forced just like the tone of his voice, too pleasant. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”

You raised your brow, “I suppose.”

“We’re all so proud of Michael and what he has achieved,” he began, hands clasped in front him. “It’s truly a major turning point for our kind, to finally rise out of the shadow of our counterparts, the witches.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” you muttered, hearing music play from the room and a woman singing.

“It has been such a struggle to get to this point,” he stressed.“It would be a great setback for warlocks should Michael be unable to focus on his duties as Supreme.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” you took a step back.

Ariel sighed, losing his patience, “You are a distraction. You are not the person Micheal needs to concern himself with, you’re not a warlock or a witch, you’re just some girl.”

“But I-“

“Don’t you see,” he interrupted you, getting heated. “He’s with his people now, he no longer needs you.”

You closed your mouth as his words sunk in. Maybe he was right. You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but it was as if he was speaking your own fears out loud. You weren’t sure how you fit into all this, and for the last couple of months, you worried that Michael truly didn’t need you. 

Standing on the interior balcony, Michael’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ariel enter the music room late. Michael had been waiting for you to join him but you were nowhere in sight.

The two warlocks nodded in acknowledgement at each other as Michael waited a few moments longer, he could care less about the performance taking place below. Concerned about your tardiness, he went to find you. Ariel shook his head in disappointment as he watched Michael leave. 

Michael headed upstairs and entered your room. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” you answered, taking a seat on the bed and mustering a smile for Michael.

He could tell you were lying, you were visibly upset and on the verge of tears. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. 

“Michael,” you started, your eyes finally meeting his. Looking up at him you couldn’t help but think of all the things he had accomplished lately, developing his powers, passing all these tests, he was doing so many great things, so why were you here? “Do you still need me?”

“Of course, I do,” he responded without pause. He then shook his head. “Even if I didn’t need you, I want you.”  He wondered where all this was coming from, was this because he wasn’t spending enough time with you? Was Ariel’s idiotic plan affecting you?

Michael sat across from you at the desk. “Are you thinking about leaving?” 

“I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. “But are you sure I’m not distracting you?”

“Is this Ariel’s doing? Did he say something to you?” Michael pursed his lips, jaw clenched. The Grand Chancellor was really pushing his luck. Michael figured it might be necessary to remind him who was the Alpha, the future Supreme.

Getting to his feet, his brow lowered as he thought about what to do. His hands curled into fists that were shaking out of anger. 

“Michael,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you. “Stop, please.”

“He wants you to leave me,” he snapped angrily. “I won’t let that happen.”

You rushed after Michael as stormed out of the room. The sliding black doors of Ariel’s office slammed open with a flick of Michael’s wrist. 

“Michael-“ Ariel started but was immediately flung to the wall. 

Your eyes widened, watching as Ariel’s hands grasped at his neck, his nails puncturing his skin as he scratched while desperately gasping for air. His legs were kicking and flailing about as he was being suffocated. 

“Michael,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “Micheal, stop,” you begged.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. “And Ariel finally understands.” You looked at Ariel who managed to nod. “See,” you said, rubbing his arm. “You got your point across.”

Ariel fell to the floor, landing on his hand and knees, panting. 

“What’s going on in here?” Behold questioned wandering into the office. 

“Nothing,” Ariel croaked, slowly rising to his feet.

Behold didn’t look convinced. He was figuring out that Michael couldn’t be trusted, wasn’t what he had presented himself to be. John Henry was missing and the witches had their suspicions as well. 

“Michael lost control, just for a moment, he’s been under a lot of stress,” you explained calmly. “He’s due for a break.”

Behold lifted his brow, Michael just looked straight up pissed in his opinion. “Alright,” he muttered, the last thing he needed was for Michael to turn that anger on him. He stood there watching as you and Michael left, before asking Ariel if needed anything. 

Returning to your room, Micheal immediately embraced you, hugging you from behind as he buried his face into your hair. You two stood there for several minutes, his arms holding you firmly in place. 

“I should speak to my father,” he murmured finally. 

You nodded. 

Michael’s hold loosened, “I should go alone.” He sighed, touching your hair gently. “I won’t be gone long.”

…

When the witches, Bubbles and Myrtle, arrived, you were tasked with entertaining them until Ariel and Bladwin returned. They had no trouble making themselves at home while you served champagne and Myrtle played the theremin. 

When Ariel and Baldwin entered the music room, the two witches insisted that you join them and the warlocks for the dinner they had prepared. 

“Bubbles, you’ve exceeded your promise,” Ariel complimented. “This is a meal fit for a Supreme.”

She chuckled, “Oh, thank you so much.”

It truly was quite a spread, platters of food you probably couldn’t even pronounce, sat on the table presented in a most lavish way. It seemed excessive that there was so much food for just 5 people. 

“Where is our dear Michael?” Myrtle questioned looking at you. “I was hoping he could join us.”

“In the wilderness,” Baldwin answered for you, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Literally. Michael has decided that he needs to be completely alone.”

“I’m surprised you’re not with him dear,” Myrtle stated, her eyes still on you. “The two of you seemed attached at the hip.” 

You could feel Ariel watching you closely. “He just needed some time to himself,” you shrugged with a smile. 

“Cordelia had a similar awakening,” she shared with you, before offering Ariel more wine. 

You listened attentively to Myrtle’s story about the amazing little shop in Madrid where she attained the bottle of wine. You didn’t know much about wine, but from what you gathered from her story, this was most likely the nicest and most expensive wine you’d ever try in your life. 

“This has been such a delight,” Myrtle announced. “I knew, if we could dine together, we could find commonality and, dare I say, friendship.”

“Oh, my. It’s getting late,” she added with a slight yawn.

“Oh. It is.” Ariel agreed, laughing weakly. “Very late. But I feel like we’ve finally gotten to know each other.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” Bubbles said, gesturing to the full table. “We’ll clear everything up.”

You offered to stay and lend a hand with cleaning to the surprise of Bubbles and Myrtle. How a kind girl like yourself wound up with someone like Michael, seemed like such a cruel fate. 

During dinner, Bubbles had already determined that you were innocent. You weren’t involved with John Henry’s death or the plot to overthrow their coven and kill the witches. Seemed that Michael kept you out of all the seediness and corruption happening around you. 

“Thanks again for dinner,” you said, clearing the plates from the table. “You really are a fantastic chef.”

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Bubbles boasted. 

“How did you become involved with our future Supreme?” Myrtle inquired, taking a sip of her glass of wine. 

“I’ve known him for a long time,” You answered vaguely, but Bubbles could see right through you, she could see directly to the feelings you harbored for Michael. 

They watched as you carried the dishes into the kitchen. Bubbles sighed, “Poor girl’s only crime is falling for the bad guy.”

“Suppose we can’t hold it against her,” Myrtle commented. “We've all been there at some point or another.”

Bubbles chuckled, “You’re right, but few can say they’re in love with the devil himself.”

“It’s terribly romantic, isn’t it?” Myrtle mused, tilting her head. She sighed, “Well, what else did you hear?”

“They murdered one of their own,” Bubbles answered in a serious tone. “And now they mean to murder all of us.” 

“Well, it’s perfectly clear,” Myrtle continued, swirling her wine glass. “It’s kill or be killed.”

…

“Ariel Augustus. Baldwin Pennypacker. For the murder of your fellow warlock, John Henry Moore, and conspiring to commit treason against this coven, I, Cordelia Goode, on behalf of this council, sentence you to death by fire.”

The coven guards doused Ariel and Baldwin in gasoline.

“Our people have long stood by an agreement that no witch may kill a condemned warlock,” Cordelia added. “Only your brother may light the flame. I do not intend to break that tradition today.”

John Henry emerged to the surprise of Ariel and Baldwin, gracefully, striding between the stakes to join the witches at Cordelia’s side. 

He scanned the area, eyes moving from stake to stake. He furrowed his brow, “Where’s his girlfriend?” He turned to Cordelia, “We need to destroy her. It’s the only way we can really hurt him.”

“We’re not burning an innocent girl on the stake,” Cordelia defended. “She wasn’t involved in your murder, Bubbles verified that already.”

John Henry shook his head, they were all blind to the facts, he didn’t want to kill her, but he could see it just like he could see what Michael truly was. “She’s his weakness…” he argued. “I’ve seen how he is with her, he’d fall apart.”

“No,” Cordelia stated firmly. 

John Henry tsked, snatching one of the gasoline cans, dumping the contents all over Ms. Mead. 

“Any last words?” He asked, returning to Cordelia’s side as he faced his brothers and murderer. “Ah, right,” he teased, motioning to his mouth. 

“You think death is a punishment?” Ms. Mead shouted. “I do not fear the fire. It cleanses me, as it will cleanse this world. I’ve seen the end. I bear witness to the darkness.” 

She looked up to the blue sky, “Father! Take me in your arms. Your kingdom is nigh.”

John Henry and Cordelia shared a look. She nodded to him signaling that it was time. With a wave of his hand, John Henry ignited the torches. The guards, then, set the lit torches at the feet of the condemned. In a matter of seconds flames engulfed Ariel, Baldwin, and Ms. Mead. 

…

Michael’s hand cautiously reached out towards the last corpse, after he identified the first two as Ariel and Baldwin. He stumbled backwards, hands shaking, as he saw his Ms. Mead being burned alive. 

An emotional and raw scream erupted from him, as pain and sadness filled him. With a hand over his chest, he wailed, it felt as if he couldn’t get any oxygen to his lungs and like his heart was being constricted by a snake, its tail coiling tightly around it as if it was a weak little mouse.

“It’s over,” Cordelia said, appearing behind him. “We know who you are.”

Michael turned to face her. 

“Your allies are all dead,” she announced. “You failed.”

“I’ve already proven that I can defy death. I’m just gonna bring her back,” Michael retorted. “And when I do, my Ms. Mead will stand by me as we watch you die.”

“You can certainly go to Hell, but you won’t find her there,” Cordelia warned. 

“What have you done?” 

She explained that Ms. Mead’s soul was hidden away and that the spell was one only she could break. As Michael realized that he’d never see Ms. Mead again, he dropped to his hands and knees. 

“You’re alone,” she added.

“I’m never alone. I have y/n and I have my father,” he snapped. 

“That poor girl deserves better,” Cordelia said coldly. She took several steps toward Michael. “And where is your father? Why did he let this happen?”

Michael looked up at her as she knelt down. 

“You don’t have to follow this path your father laid out for you. You can write your own destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you. I see it,” she stood back up and offered Michael her hand. “If you come with me, maybe we can find it. Together.”

He accepted her hand, but aggressively moved closer, his eyes burning with hatred towards the witch. “Somehow, some way, I am gonna bring her back. And then I’m gonna kill every last one of you.” 

As the threat left his lips. A thought crossed Cordelia’s mind and images flashed in Michael’s head. His eyes widened, staring at Cordelia in disbelief. 

The witches had revived John Henry, back from the dead, and he and Behold were returning to the school. Michael’s hands began to tremble, releasing Cordelia’s hand, as he could hear the words John Henry had spoken to her during the execution. John Henry had made threats towards you, expressed that he wanted to dispose of you to hurt Michael, to stop him. 

Michael made up his mind at that moment, he wouldn’t allow John Henry to have the opportunity, he’d kill them all to protect you. He couldn’t believe they’d stoop so low, would the witches be the next to try?

Without time to waste, Michael left towards the school. 

He sat there panting, the lifeless corpses of his brothers laying all around him. Michael had no one except for you, he had no Ms. Mead to guide him, he had no support with his magic anymore, no followers. And the witches were still a threat. 

He felt like he was crumbling beneath the weight of it all, but he had to make sure you were safe. He may have been able to keep you safe and massacre the warlocks, but what if the witches went after you next?

Taking in a deep breath, Michael stared up at the staircase towards the direction of your room. He would do anything to keep you safe. 

Rising to his feet, he slowly made his way to you. 

“Michael?” You asked, sitting up on the bed as he entered the room.

He wished that he could just crawl into bed next to you. But there was so much that needed to be done. He had to kill the witches, avenge Ms. Mead, and fulfill his purpose. 

He crouched down beside the bed in front of you. “The witches, they killed Ms. Mead,” he said quietly, voice hoarse from screaming. 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, leaning down to embrace him. 

Michael placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling away from you a bit, he wanted to get a better look at you. He stared at your face, committing every detail to memory. 

“I need to put you under a spell,” Michael started to explain. “I have to hide you from anyone who’d want to hurt you.”

You furrowed your brow as his words sunk in. He was going to leave you behind. Your lips quivered as you started to cry. 

“Who’s… who's going to take care of you?” You hiccuped, cupping his face, your thumbs gently wiping the tears from the apple of his cheeks. 

Picturing Michael alone, without anyone to turn to, no one to make sure he was okay, was literally breaking your heart. You couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t let him do this. You had promised to stay with him forever. 

He placed his hands over yours. “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to put on a brave face. “But I can’t lose you too, I can't… you're all that I have left.”

Your shoulders shook as you cried harder. 

“I’m going to take care of you this time,” Michael promised. “I’ll figure it out and then we’ll never have to be apart. You’ll be at my side forever.”

Micheal closed the distance between you and him, his lips finding yours with ease. His first real kiss was an emotional kiss goodbye, one in which he desperately wanted to convey his devotion for you. Your eyes fluttered shut, his hands squeezed yours tighter, you pressed your lips to his tenderly, returning the kiss. 

He casted his spell before pulling away, and watched as you fell into a deep sleep like a princess in a fairy tale. As an extra precaution he wiped your memories as well. 

***Present***

“It’s alright,” Michael comforted, tucking your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you.

It was a lot to take in at once, an entire lifetime coming back to you in a matter of seconds. Michael waited patiently, hand drawing circles on back, as you composed yourself. Having you back made him feel whole again, the one constant in his life. He was never letting go of you again. 

“What is it?” He asked as you sat up and cupped his cheek. 

“You’ve changed,” you whispered, gazing at him. He looked older, more mature and refined, his long golden hair somehow made him even more handsome than you remembered. He now exuded confidence that almost bordered on conceitedness. 

He lifted his brow, “Have I?”

You nodded, causing him to smirk, you were always so honest. 

“In what ways?” He teased, titling his head, and holding your hand to his face. “Am I more attractive now?”

You shook your head, laughing lightly, “Not sure how you managed it, but yes you’re more handsome than I remember.”

“So,” he murmured lowly. “You like the new me?” Michael turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Tell me,” he said against your skin. 

“Didn’t we have this conversation earlier?” You questioned. 

“But that was before you remembered,” he challenged, looking at you from the corner of his eye. 

“My answer is still the same, everything, I like everything about you.” 

“I believe you,” He closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, and then opening them again. He examined you for a moment, just like before it was as if he could see right through you. 

“You haven’t changed,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s comforting.” His lips tickled your fingertips as he returned your hand to you. 

Michael may not have the typical image of home as most, but he suspected that being reunited with you, is what it felt like to come back home. 

He leaned forward, hands firmly on your thighs, as his lips lightly grazed against yours. You felt the side of his nose caress yours, your hands slowly raised up from your lap and clung to him. 

Suddenly he groaned in frustration as the bedroom door opened. 

“Ladies, I’m a little busy right now,” Michael muttered, breaking the kiss as he glanced at Ms. Venable and Ms. Mead who entered the room uninvited. 

Ms. Venable gave you a cold look, she couldn’t say she was surprised to see you here. She long had her suspicions, this only confirmed them. “This won’t take long,” She addressed Michael, walking further into the room. 

Michael sighed, exasperatedly, his touch leaving your form as he straightened up and turned his chair to give Ms. Venable his attention. “What’s this?”

“We’re making the selections now, Mr. Langdon,” Ms. Venable stated, standing tall across from Michael. “And I’m afraid that neither of you made the cut.”

Michael bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in,” he gestured to himself. 

“You think this is funny?” Ms. Venable pressed, obviously unamused. 

“I think I’m impressed, Ms. Venable,” Michael 

“I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Gracefully, Michael rose to his feet. “You passed the test. You’re perfect for The Sanctuary.”

“Mrs. Mead,” Ms. Venable ordered. 

You scrambled off the bed, moving in front of Michael, the moment Ms. Mead drew the gun out from her jacket. You didn’t understand what was going on, or why Ms. Mead was following Ms. Venable’s orders. 

Michael looked at you fondly, with a slightly amused expression. His sweet y/n ready to protect him, to defend him, even knowing that he could literally kill people with a snap of his fingers. 

Of course, you weren’t in any real danger. He knew Ms. Mead would never hurt you, just like she was programmed to never hurt him. He placed his hands on your shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” he warned Ms. Venable before glancing towards Ms. Mead and giving her a silent command.

“Ms. Mead,” Ms. Venable repeated, her tone irritated as she turned to face her co-conspirator. 

Ms. Mead, with some unwillingness by the look of her face, went from pointing the gun at Michael to directing it toward Ms. Venable. Without hesitation, Ms. Mead fired. 

You flinched at the sound of the gunshot, drawing back against Michael, who reassuringly squeezed your shoulders while smirking with satisfaction over what just transpired. 

Ms. Venable dropped to the floor gasping as she started to bleed out from the wound in her chest. 

Michael’s hands slid down your arms, walking around you towards Ms. Venable.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Ms. Mead questioned, sadness laced in her voice. “I was always loyal to her.”

“It’s all right,” Michael spoke calmly, crouching down, his arms resting on his knees as he watched Ms. Venable die. “You were obeying commands, like you’re programmed to do,” he explained. “My commands.”

You knitted your brows together finally piecing together what was going on. You had been so invested on your and Michael’s reunion, that you hadn’t ask how he was able to revive Ms. Mead. 

“Did you enjoy executing the poison apples plan as much as I enjoyed coming up with it?” Michael asked Ms. Mead, standing back up. 

“You wanted everyone dead?”

“I’ve never been a fan of getting my hands dirty,” he reasoned. “Learned that from my father.”

Ms. Mead’s lips trembled as she processed all the new information and her grief. 

“Always more fun to entice men and women to do dirty deeds. Confirms what I’ve always believed,” Michael mused.

“What do you believe?”

“That all people, if given the right pressures or stimulus, are evil motherfuckers,” he declared. “All except for y/n, of course,” he chuckled, looking at you before returning his attention to Ms. Mead.

“I’m having trouble with this,” she shook her head. “I know I’m just a machine.”

“Never say that,” he said forcefully. “You’re not just a machine. Not to me. When I tasked The Cooperative’s R&D department to have you constructed, I gave them a prototype to model.”

“A prototype?” She asked, hanging on to each and every word Michael said. 

“Someone from my childhood,” he shared, approaching her slowly. “Someone very dear to me.”

Her expression changed as realization struck her. “The beautiful boy.”

“That was me,” Michael answered, his eyes glossy as he held back tears. “But I had to keep the most important part of you hidden from your mind, just like I had to with y/n.”

“Why?”

“To protect you and the plan,” he said. “But now it’s time to remember it all.“ His eyes flickered to the ground for a brief moment, head shaking slightly as he continued to speak. 

“I lost you and I couldn’t bear it. And after that, I had to hide y/n to keep her safe.” His heart ached recalling all the pain, misery, loneliness he felt after losing the only people who loved him. “I can’t imagine a new world without you both by my side.”

Her eyes darted to you, “So that’s why I felt connected to you, like I needed to watch over you.”

You smiled at her and nodded, “You’ve always been good to me.”

Michael embraced Ms. Mead tightly. He finally had the only people who mattered back. The only people who ever showed him love and kindness. The rest of the world could burn now. 

Pulling back, Michael smiled at you and offered you his hand. His thumb caressed your knuckles lovingly while his other arm lingered around Ms. Mead. “You both are the only people I never stopped trusting or loving.” 

His eyes narrowed as he noticed the blood splattered on your dress. “There’s a dress for you in the armoire,” he motioned towards it. “Go change, I’ll catch Ms. Mead up on things.”

In the adjoining bathroom, you stripped out of your purple dress, letting it fall to the floor. Looking at your reflection, you fixed your face, wiping away the streaks of mascara from under your eyes. 

The dress was more contemporary than the purple attire you had grown accustomed to. The black fabric was smooth and luxurious. Pulling it on, it fit you like a glove, hugging the curves of your hips and thighs.

You frowned as you found that you couldn’t reach the zipper on the back. You cleared your throat as you emerged from the bathroom. “I can’t zip it up.” 

Michael strode towards you and stood behind you, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your back as they traveled down to the zipper. Taking his time he pulled it up. 

His eyes traveled up and down your figure as he admired the dress on you, “A perfect fit.”

Michael tensed suddenly, eyes darting to the side, standing still as if waiting for something to happen. 

“What is it?” Ms. Mead asked. 

“I sense a powerful presence,” he responded, eyes shifting as he concentrated on whoever just arrived. 

“What do you mean? Everyone’s dead,” she said, looking concerned. 

“Not anymore,” Michael answered. He extended his hand out towards you, fingers curling around your palm. “Let’s greet our guests.”

Ending 1

Ending 2

[twisted-wolf]

In fact, your entire face lit up and your eyes sparkled when you saw him. 

Ahhh I'm so soft for that! 😍

Change in Me part 2

Jacob Seed x female reader

part 1

warnings: modern AU

summary: Jacob is a retired veteran who reluctantly helps his new neighbor one day. As a way to say thank you, she invites him over for dinner. This leads to Jacob having conflicting feelings especially as their relationship progresses.

a/n: Sorry for the wait! I’ve had this done for awhile… hopefully I’ll start part 3 soon! Thank you @ewokiee

When the large work truck pulled into the yard next door, Judge, Meat, and Recruit all perked up, rising from their spots on the sofa and headed towards the door. Even Jacob was curious when he heard the truck door slam, slowly getting up from his chair, he wandered over to the window. 

His curtains were drawn. In fact, they had been that way since that night. It was all part of his plan to ignore you. He stayed holed up in his house most of the day, only leaving when he was absolutely positive he wouldn’t run into you. Fortunately, you stuck to your usual schedule, making it easy for him to avoid you. 

Though, he didn’t want to linger on the fact that he learned your whole routine in such a short time of you moving in. He also didn’t want to think about how he kept having those dreams about you even though he hadn’t seen you since dinner that night. 

With his index finger, he carefully parted the curtains just enough to take a peek. His jaw clenched as he watched the stranger in his gray coveralls and tool belt nonchalantly approach your door. 

Jacob huffed and turned away. He didn’t like this at all. 

He paced back and forth, frowning while trying to convince himself that he didn’t care and that he didn’t want to be the one helping you. This was a good thing, you should get help from some other man. It was better than bothering him. Plus, this guy wouldn’t care, and you wouldn’t invite him for dinner, he was getting paid to do this after all. 

But then he heard you laugh, it was a sweet little giggle that rang in the air lightly catching his attention. Immediately, he found himself at the window again, this time glaring at the exchange between you and the worker.

You swayed slightly side to side with your hands behind your back as you gave the stranger a friendly smile while explaining the issues you were having with the plumbing. The man was grinning like an idiot, in response, his hand rubbing the back of his head like he never spoke to a pretty girl before. 

Jacob’s stomach twisted into knots, he hated himself for letting this get to him, he wished he never got involved with you at all, but what he wanted most this very moment was to punch that man’s stupid face. 

Without thinking, Jacob marched outside. He had no idea what he was going to do or say, but he couldn’t ignore it and he couldn’t just stand there and watch that fool gush over you.

“Hey,”  Jacob said gruffly, but still friendlier than usual, as he walked over to your house. 

You blinked in surprise, but immediately smiled at Jacob. It was far better than the smile you gave the plumber. You looked happier, brighter, prettier for him. In fact, your entire face lit up and your eyes sparkled when you saw him. 

That alone eased the rage he was feeling moments ago, he could tell you preferred him over this other guy. 

Getting a better look at the stranger, Jacob wanted to laugh, he was obviously weak and puny, didn’t look too smart either. On plumber’s gray coveralls was a name patch that read Guy. 

Jacob resisted the urge to knock him flat on his ass. Instead, he kept his eye on the prize and turned his attention towards you. 

“What’s the problem?” Jacob asked, pushing past Guy as he walked up the porch stairs. He stood right between you and the wimp, making sure all you could see was him.

He could feel Guy staring at his back, probably angry at him for just showing up and interrupting his poor attempt at flirting with you. 

“One of the drains is clogged and the water pressure in the shower is horrible,” you explained, looking up at Jacob. 

“I see,” Jacob muttered quietly, before leaning in towards you. He was so close that you could feel his breath tickling your cheek as he continued. “Got a minute to talk?” He whispered.

“Sure,” you nodded, curious as to what he wanted to discuss. 

In an oddly familiar fashion, Jacob placed his large hand on your lower back and guided you back inside your house. Before going into the house, he shot Guy an ugly look, somewhere between a scowl and a snarl. 

“What is it?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“I can do it,” Jacob stated plainly. 

“Do what?”

He sighed, “I can fix the clog and the water pressure.”

Your eyes went wide, stunned by his generosity once again. “Really?”

Jacob nodded looking at his boots for a moment, “It’s an easy fix.”

He didn’t know that for sure, plumbing was one of those things where a small job could easily turn into a big one, but he didn’t want that plumber around, so he’d do it and get it done. 

“Oh my god! That would be such a big help!” You clapped your hands together and bounced on the balls of your feet. “And I’d much rather have someone I know than some strange man, especially with it just me and Bonnie in the house.”

Jacob looked up and met your eyes, he hadn’t really even considered it like that. Why hadn’t he?  He knew better than most how dangerous this world can be, he knew not to trust people and keep them at a distance. 

His eyes narrowed. You were right, absolutely right, with it just being you and the babe, it wasn’t safe or smart letting just anyone in. Perhaps that’s why he rushed over. 

“Ever think about upgrading the security here? Better locks, maybe even a security camera or motion sensor lights?” He questioned, his mind already racing. 

You shrugged, “Sounds great, but I can’t really afford all that right now.”

Jacob grit his teeth, mulling it all over. 

“I better go explain to the plumber that his services are no longer needed,” you said, heading towards the door. 

Jacob’s hand caught your arm, fingers wrapping around it right above the elbow. “We’ll talk more about the security stuff later, I’ve got some stuff around the house I ain’t using.”

“Thank you, Jacob.”

A sudden cry from upstairs drew your attention. 

“Sounds like Bonnie just woke up from her nap,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you mind telling the plumber he can go?” You asked Jacob. 

He nodded, watching for a moment as you rushed upstairs. 

Jacob stepped back onto the porch, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at Guy. “You can go,” He said bluntly. 

“Oh uh, but, what about…” Guy stammered almost incoherently, immediately stepping back as Jacob took another step forward. 

Guy licked his lips nervously, “S-sorry about anything I may have said earlier to your girlfriend, didn’t know she was spoken for.”

Jacob paused, raising his eyebrow, but didn’t bother to correct him. “You better be,” he threatened, getting some kind of twisted pleasure watching the guy squirm. 

“Yeah, of course, I'll just be on my way now,” Guy explained, practically running towards his truck, afraid to accidentally piss Jacob off. 

As the work truck pulled away, Jacob relaxed a little, he felt triumphant watching the puny man scurry. 

Figuring you still had your hands full, he went back to his house to gather some tools and supplies so he could get started right away.  

…

Cleaning off his hands with an old rag, Jacob smirked watching the water run from the shower head. He did a damn pretty good, the water pressure was nice and strong, and the kitchen sink was draining again like it was brand new.

He felt a strange sort of satisfaction, on one hand he was proud of his work, of course, but he also felt good, he felt right. Taking care of you and your daughter felt right, even if you weren’t exactly his. Yet, there was a small voice in the back of his head that kept saying it was just a matter of time. 

“Hey,” you chirped, popping your head in. “Turkey sandwiches alright for lunch?”

“Sounds good,” Jacob answered. “Just gotta clean up this mess and I’ll be down.”

You nodded before skipping back downstairs. 

Walking down the steps, he paused at the last one and took in the scene before him. You were on the couch, your legs curled underneath you as you watched local TV while eating. Bonnie was on the rug, stacking blocks and babbling about all sorts of things. It was an endearing picture, simple and peaceful. 

He noticed a plate sitting on the coffee table for him and the vacant spot on the couch across from it. Then a thought crossed Jacob’s mind that he was the piece missing from this picture. 

Finally spotting him at the bottom of the staircase, you turned slightly and smiled patting the spot next to you. “Come have a break and some lunch!”

Jacob groaned a little as he sat down, he didn’t like to admit it, but he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore. He picked up half of his sandwich and took a couple of big bites. 

The noise of the TV was drowned out as he focused on eating. He wasn’t big on television or movies really, he used his time more productively, typically working on his home, garden, or preparing for the future. When he did relax he read or played with the dogs. Occasionally, he’d go camping or fishing for a few days. He wondered if you’d ever like to go with him. There was a place close by where he could rent a cabin by the lake, nice and remote. Suddenly he sensed you tensing beside him. 

On the news, there was a report about a missing child, apparently the kid was taken from his home in the middle of night right from his bed. 

Your eyes furrowed with worry and sadness, staring at the screen while the reporter went into further detail. Instinctively you reached out and held Jacob’s hand. You squeezed it tightly, becoming engrossed in the news story. 

Jacob hadn’t really been paying attention until he felt your hand on his. He gazed over at you from the corner of his eye, your face was quite expressive, he could tell almost exactly what you were feeling and thinking. 

You were concerned about the safety of your own child, thinking about  how you would do anything to keep her safe. He knew it probably wasn’t easy to be a woman on her own, especially with a small child. 

He almost missed the warmth of your hand as you pulled it away grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, unsure why you felt like you needed to apologize or explain. “But I couldn’t hear any more of that.” 

He looked at you, and with a little hesitation patted your knee, “you’ll both be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes softened taking in the tough older man, he appeared so serious when speaking and honest, something about how his blue eyes didn’t waver when he spoke and the tone of his voice was calm and soothing. 

Jacob cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how that may have come out, “We’ll get you set up with better security starting tomorrow.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you laughed lightly. “Of course.”

You saw Jacob out, carrying Bonnie in your arms. “Good night!”

“Night,” he muttered back. 

Jacob could hear his dogs from the porch making a fuss, but his mind was preoccupied. He was already thinking of installing a motion sensor light outside your house, changing the locks to the front and back door, maybe he could even convince you to have one of the dogs over at your house. He’d pity anyone stupid enough to break into his home with his pack waiting. Either way, he’d make sure you were safe.

[twisted-wolf]

Love this!

Especially how she immediately haunted him in a dream that started out with her as the doe....

👏👏👏

Change in Me part 1

Jacob Seed x female reader

warnings: lemon, dream sex, sexual fantasy, modern AU

summary: Jacob is a retired veteran who reluctantly helps his new neighbor one day. As a way to say thank you, she invites him over for dinner. This leads to Jacob having conflicting feelings especially as their relationship progresses.

a/n: I’m so happy to be inspired by Far Cry 5 again!!! I’ve had this idea for a while now and decided Jacob was perfect for it! Thank you @ewokiee

Jacob sat at the dining table across from the toddler in her high chair. The baby was babbling and squealing while pounding her sippy cup against the tray.

He sighed, still wondering if he should’ve been more resistant to your invitation. He said no the first time, he said no the second time, but by the third time you came around he agreed hoping that you’d leave him be afterwards.

You had moved into the neighborhood about a month ago, just you and your daughter. Jacob didn’t bother with the whole being ‘neighborly’ thing. He didn’t go over to introduce himself or welcome you into the neighborhood. Hell, he didn’t even bother to smile or wave when standing on his porch, watching as you struggled to move boxes into your new house.

Honestly, he was surprised when you came prancing up his porch to his door to introduce yourself. His dogs immediately started yapping and making a fuss, he practically had to fight them just to open the door.

Everyone else seemed to know better than to approach him. Even random solicitors and Jesus Freaks stopped coming by, too scared or too intimidated to speak with the grumpy old man who lived at the end of the street.

And that’s exactly how Jacob liked it.

As the week passed, he’d watch you from the window in his kitchen as he sipped on his morning coffee, getting a kick out of watching you struggle to do yard work and maintenance on the house. Jacob had to admit you had a lot of pep and good intentions, but it was still entertaining as hell.

One morning, you dragged an old rickety ladder out of the small storage room from the backyard to the front yard. As you began to climb up the rusted creaking deathtrap, Jacob sighed slamming his coffee cup down.

As much as he liked seeing your pathetic attempts at playing repairman, he wouldn’t get much enjoyment if you fell from the roof and got hurt. The damn sirens from the ambulance would just make the dogs go wild.

So he ended up marching up to you and demanding to do it instead. He ended up spending the rest of that morning repainting the trim of your house.

You were so grateful for the help that you invited him to dinner, but he refused, muttering that he was too tired. But, of course, that didn’t deter you, instead you came over a little later with cookies and asked again. He accepted the cookies and then came up with some excuse about being busy even though he clearly wasn’t. You looked a little disappointed, but you hid it well.

After that he went on with his day, fed the dogs, tended to the garden, and jarred some fruits and vegetables. He practically jumped out of skin when the doorbell rang. He grumbled to himself as he stomped to the door and yanked it open.

He was taken aback seeing you standing there again with your daughter. You explained quickly that dinner would be ready in 20 minutes or so, in case he changed his mind. You really were persistent, he’d give you that. Reluctantly, he agreed, fearing that you’d keep coming over.

A delicious smell wafted in the room from the kitchen. Hopefully, you were a better cook than a handyman.

He cocked an eyebrow as he heard you muttering to yourself, then cursing loudly. With a loud screech, he pushed his chair back and went into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about. He quickly found you, standing at the sink, running warm water over the lid of a jar.

Jacob resisted rolling his eyes, before snatching the jar from your grasp and with ease twisting it open.

“Thank you,” you squeaked as he shoved the lid and jar back into your hands. He grunted in response and returned back to the table.

The little girl squealed as he took his seat again, banging her sippy cup again in celebration. Jacob could feel the corner of his lips turn upwards involuntarily.

A few moments later, you joined him and your daughter, carrying a pot roast and veggies into the dining room.

“Help yourself,” you smiled, but your smile soon faded and your eyes went wide as Jacob started shelving food into his mouth.

After a long career in the military, any table manners he may have had were long gone. Meal times while in basic training or during a tour were quick, so you had to eat fast. Jacob never bothered with relearning how to eat properly, this was efficient, and perhaps now you’ll think twice about him inviting him over again.

You sipped your drink and cleared your throat, “Have you lived here for long?”

Jacob gave a curt nod and kept eating.

“Do you have family nearby?”

He stabbed a few carrots on his plate. “Nope,” he responded, then shoved the carrots in his mouth.

You poked at your own plate, taking a couple of small bites as you tried to think of something else to ask him. “What do you do for work?”

“Retired,” he answered with his mouth partially full.

“I noticed you have several dogs, what are their names?”

Jacob paused for a second and swallowed roughly, “Judge, Meat, and Recruit.”

You smiled, “How sweet! I’d love to have one, but I’ve got enough on my hands with the baby.”

“Dogs!” Bonnie shouted, while throwing some of her goldfish on the floor.

“Yep, sweetie,” you nodded, adding a few more crackers to her tray. “Mr. Seed has 3 big puppies.”

You took a couple more bites before an idea popped into your head. “Oh! If it’s alright with you, I can send you home with some of the scraps.”

Jacob gave you a questioning look, while lifting his glass to take a drink.

“For the dogs I mean,” you added quickly.

He shrugged, “If you want.”

When Jacob was done, he stood up and carried his dishes to the kitchen. You followed behind him to prepare a small baggie of pot roast for the dogs.

“Thanks again for your help earlier,” you said, handing him the bag.

He nodded, holding the bag up, “Thanks for this and dinner.”

Jacob wasn’t sure how to feel about the day as he unlocked his door, he was already planning on how he’d avoid you for the next few days. He didn’t want you getting too comfortable, no more of you skipping up to his house, no more of him helping, or you bringing cookies or making him dinner.

As he entered the house, 3 big dogs came hurling at him, drooling all over and fighting for his attention. They were all full grown wolfdogs, Jacob’s own little Wolfpack.

Judge was the oldest with white and silver fur and blue eyes, Meat had reddish colored fur with gold eyes, and Recruit was the youngest, he was mostly black with a few small white spots on his forehead and chest.

“C’mon,” he chuckled, finally loosening up and feeling more comfortable in his home. His dogs followed, practically on his heels as he went into the kitchen. They could smell the pot roast and were anxious to have some.

Opening up the bag on the counter, he tossed the scraps of meat evenly amongst his dogs, before letting them out to run around in the yard before bed.

Lying in bed, Jacob tried to think of anything else but you, luckily it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

He was running, running as fast as he could, and for once it wasn’t towards a fight or danger, but simply because he was free. He felt so unburdened, no longer weighed down by his past, his guilt, or expectations. Wolves didn’t have to worry about things like that, all they cared about was their pack and surviving.

The woods were particularly cool and morning light seeped down from between the branches. He could hear the babbling of a small creek nearby and the smell of fresh pine that surrounded him. He never felt so at home, soft soil under his bare feet and feeling a gentle breeze on his fur.

He panted as he ran, sprinting effortlessly between the trees and over the roots and rocks. Suddenly, he grounded to a halt, his head snapped and his ears perked up at the sound of a nearby twig snapping in half.

Moving slowly, careful not to make sound, he spotted a doe in a small clearing past the trees. She was beautiful, elegant even, he began salivating just at the sight of her. Jacob crept closer, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth in her neck and taste her flesh.

He knew if she caught sight of him, she’d be quick to gallop away. If he played his cards right, he could take her down before she even knew what happened, but the idea of her trying to outrun him, made him excited.

As he stepped further into the clearing the doe froze, her eyes spotting him for a brief second before she immediately fled.

With a low growl, he sprinted after her. She tried her best to stay ahead, tried to be smart about it as she changed directions, but they both knew he was stronger, had more stamina.

Finally, catching up with her, he lunged, his sharp teeth latching on to her throat as they both went tumbling down a hill.

Jacob landed on top of the doe, but it wasn’t a doe anymore, it was you.

Your arms were sprawled out over your head, your bareback laying on the moss covered ground below. Jacob’s fingers lightly traced the purple bite mark on your neck as his eyes roamed your naked body below him.

You were looking up at him with big eyes, your lip slightly trembling.

Without a second thought, his lips desperately collided against yours in a heated kiss. His tongue shoved its way between your lips, while he eagerly pawed at your chest and tits.

Your nipples hardened under his touch, his thumb circling around one of your nipples before pinching it between his fingers causing you to gasp. He smirked against your mouth, satisfied with your adorable reaction.

His hands explored lower groping your ass and thighs. With a thigh in each hand, he suddenly yanked you closer to him, he pushed your legs apart as he centered himself, rubbing his hard cock teasingly against your folds.

With a rough and sudden jerk of his hips, he sheathed his cock completely in your tight cunt. Immediately, he began thrusting fast and hard, fucking you like a wild animal.

You arched your back, your chest pressing against his, while your nails dragged down his back, the pain of it went unnoticed as he was lost in pleasure.

He bit and sucked along the nape of your neck and shoulder leaving even more marks on your soft skin. You were mewling and writhing beneath him, your cries were so sweet to his ears.

He felt absolutely wild with lust, wanting nothing more than to fuck you and make you his, only his.

Grunting and snarling, his hand gripped your thighs tighter, lifting your ass slightly off the ground as he pounded away.

It felt so damn good fucking your sweet little little cunt, before he knew it, he was cumming.

.

.

.

Jacob’s eyes opened, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. It took him a moment to realize what just happened. He ripped the white sheet off his body, a patch was still wet with his load. He threw it onto the floor and stood up.

His lips curled into a frown. What the hell was wrong with him?! He felt a mixture of rage and embarrassment over his own body betraying him.

Jacob clenched his fists tightly as he marched downstairs, still completely nude. He opened the cabinet and slammed it shut after grabbing a glass. He filled it with tap water and chugged it down before refilling it.

He paused after taking another drink, and looked out the kitchen window at your home. There was a dim light on in your daughter’s room right next to yours.

He didn’t like what was happening at all. He wanted to put an end to whatever was happening, but he couldn’t get that image of you, sprawled out beneath him, out of his head.

Unable to go back to sleep, Jacob just stood at the window, watching, as he thought about the night.

[twisted-wolf]

That was...

Out Hunting

Jacob Seed x F!Reader

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: NSFW/18+ Minors DNI

P in V Smut, !Dom themes, Edging, Language

Jacob goes hunting, only to be followed by the deputy. Things don't go as planned, which might not be such a bad thing.

This was inspired by and loosely based on the fic by @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen. Go give their story the love it deserves!

A/N: 6K words, every single one of them an excuse to justify making this NSFW... So yeah, here you go! Bye!

*runs into the goddamn hills*

The forest at night was quiet, in the winter even quieter. Most would be put off by the lack of noise or natural ambience, not Jacob. He looked forward to these moments in time; these few chances he could be alone without the constant voices in his ear asking for orders or giving him updates on troop movements. His solo, night-time hunting trips were special to him.

The crunch of the frozen ground underneath was the only sound in the forested hills and it marked his slow pace through the trees. His bare hands adjusted the quiver strap around his shoulders while he tapped out his favorite tune on the side of his compound bow. With breath billowing out around him, Jacob thought about how the snow would make his hunts even nicer; game would be easier to track, and there was a peacefulness in the way a thick blanket of snow could dampen sound. He made a mental note to go hunting more often after the first snowfall.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

The faint static voice that came through the radio speaker, no doubt meaning to catch him off-guard, didn’t deter him or even slow his pace as he brought his radio up to respond.

“Hm. Don’t spoil it.” he couldn’t help the slight tease in his voice.

The deputy was quick to respond back, he could hear her smile “Me? Spoil big, bad Jacob’s hunt? Perish the thought. Although, you must be getting cold by now, no gloves tonight?”

The smile that crept across his face was automatic and he was glad it was a dark night with no moon, “Oh, I’m not cold. I enjoy it.” He casually scans the woods in front of him “But you, I bet you’re all bundled up.”

“Wouldn’t want the sound of my teeth chattering to give away my position.”

“That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” he listened intently around him, hoping to hear a laugh or a snort from somewhere out there in the dark, but got nothing.

“Does it bother you, not knowing where I am? I can see you looking and listening for me. Are you losing your touch, old man?”

He barked out a laugh, not even bothering to press talk on the radio, let the deputy hear it from where they are, maybe she’ll take the bait.

“Oh ho, sounds like someone believes they’re still young.”

He took his time responding, not even bothering to cover his grin or conceal it from his voice “So you’re within ear shot… good to know. Which means you’d be able to hear my little music box—sound travels far on a cold night like tonight.”

He was met with deafening silence, until “You’re fucking bluffing.”

“I don’t know kitten, am I? Can you afford to find out?”

“Why on earth would you bring that awful thing with you on a hunt?”

“Well, I know you’ve been following me out the past couple of times…which makes me curious about something—you’ve gotten bold enough to the point where you spoke up tonight. I wonder why?”

Faced with silence, he continued talking, enjoying the corner he’s put her in “It must be that you have a gun pointed at me, or you’ve found a good place to hide—you think you’re safe.”

When more time passed and there was still no response, Jacob laughed “Aw, did I scare you off? Maybe I should bring out the box, I’d love for you to join me.” he began to reach in his pants pocket, taking his time, knowing that the deputy must be weighing her options. He began to sing the familiar tune softly “Onnly youu—”

“Bring your hand out of that pocket and I’ll shoot.”

He stopped walking “Hm, now who’s bluffing?” He wanted to test her, to push her into action.

Very slowly, he began to withdraw his hand from his pocket, but he wasn’t holding his music box—she was right, he hadn’t brought it with him. Instead, he had an extra radio, smaller and lightweight, vaguely square shaped; something he stored in his pocket as a backup. Just as his fingers appeared, obviously wrapped around something, a muffled pop sounded in the distance to his right. A split second later it was followed by a bullet that whizzed past his left shoulder.

“A little too far to the left, kitten.” He teased, dropping the small radio back into his pocket and starting to walk again.

“Next time I won’t be.”

. . .

You watched through your rifle’s scope as Jacob put his hand back in his pant pocket and continued walking leisurely, a big grin stretched across his face. What a bastard. He wasn’t responding on the radio which set alarm bells off, he was up to something.

Shifting in place while laying on your belly, you looked through the slight gap in a rock formation a ways off to the right of where Jacob was walking. As he disappeared behind a thicket of trees—kicking your instincts into high alert, you decided it was time to switch positions.

Quickly picking up your rifle, you got to your feet and spun around, you were busy watching your footing—careful not to catch any rocks or make noise, when there was a rustle to your left. You looked up just in time to see Jacob moving toward you, fast.

“Motherfucker” you cursed, throwing the strap of your rifle over your shoulder and whirling around, scrambling up the rock formation.

But before you could get halfway up, you felt a rough hand grab you by the ankle and yank you back down. Pain shot through your shoulder as you landed hard on the rocks below and you were only dimly aware of your rifle being stripped off your back.

“Not so tough anymore, huh?” Jacob’s triumphant, rough voice sounded from over your shoulder, close to your ear, and you felt something sharp pressing into the side of your neck.

You gave him a growl, cracking your eyes open to stare down at the rocky ground “Smug bastard.”

“I thought you knew better than to give away your position with a warning shot.”

You huffed, shifting to try and face him, but the knife pressed harder into your neck, making you freeze, “Guess I got a little too excited.”

There was a dark chuckle and the pressure from the knife lessened a little, hot breath fanned across the back of your neck, “You’ve gotta be better than that, kitten.”

“Given another chance, I would have shot you—right in your knee. Let’s see you hunt me down from a goddamn wheelchair.”

His beard hairs tickled the back of your neck as his lips ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine “I don’t think you would have.” The knife disappears from your throat and rough hands pull your arms behind your back, making you hiss from the flare of pain in your shoulder. Sitting you up on your knees, still facing you away from him, he continues “I think it would end the same way as it has right here.”

“Careful…” you tease with a low growl, grabbing at his shirt behind you and giving it a weak tug with your trapped wrists “I might just prove you wrong.”

He grunts and you can feel his teeth brush along your ear “I’m curious to see what you’d do without a rifle…”

“I’d claw your eyes out.” You meant it to sound like a threat, but with Jacob so close—his teeth nipping occasionally at the sensitive spot behind your ear, it comes out breathless and flustered.

Jacob laughed, a deep, rumbling noise from his chest. You almost couldn’t believe you were hearing it, that had to have been the first time he’s ever actually laughed around you. You would have remembered hearing something like that before.

His lips traced a line down your neck and to the back of your jaw, nipping at your soft skin along the way “So feisty…”

“Let go of me and I’ll show you just how feisty I can be...” this time you didn’t sound breathy, your voice was firm, threatening even.

Jacob moved back, leaving you suddenly cold. There’s a shuffling from your wrists behind you as he holds them with one hand and uses his other to grip you by the jaw, calloused fingers pressing into your cheeks. He turns your head to look at him. Sharp blue eyes peer down at you with an intensity that makes your knees weak—all for the wrong reasons. You felt incredibly small looking up at him now, all your previous confidence beginning to shrivel in the face of this mountain of a man.

He gave you a threatening smile, eyes narrowed with a glint to them “I don’t believe you.”

You grumbled in response, casting your glare into the ground, trying not to sound defeated “Well, either way, it would hardly be a fair fight. It’s like asking a house cat to take on a grizzly bear.”

That dark chuckle returned and he brought his face closer to yours, tilting it up so you had nowhere to look but back at him. A slow grin spread across his features “I like that analogy.” His eyes flickered down and back to yours “But fights are hardly ever matched up evenly, there’s no room for fair. Nature isn’t—”

You huffed “Yeah, yeah—nature isn’t fair and all that. I’ve gotten the lecture already…”

His eyes narrowed, fingers pressing harder into your cheeks “You’ve got quite the attitude, kitten. Hasn’t anybody ever taught you to respect your superiors?”

Despite the grip he had on your face, you managed a smirk “Well you tried, once or twice—don’t think it really worked though.”

His face leaned in close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan out against you, making you shiver “Maybe it’s time for another lesson.”

“Oh boy, what is it going to be this time? Beat me into submission, starve me into submission, lecture me into submission?”

Jacob let go of your face and wrists, getting to his feet and stepping away from you. Spinning around to face him, you noticed he had your rifle on his back. “I was hunting for deer tonight, but…” He looked down at his watch “You have a two-minute lead…starting now.”

You blinked at him incredulously for a moment and he looked up at you with an amused expression “Get going. You’re gonna need it.”

“Fuck.” You breathed out before dashing away into the forest. “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

After running for a little while, you skidded and dove into a sizable burrow under an uprooted tree and tried to control your breathing while looking out through the medium sized hole. You knew Jacob was a good hunter, but could he really track you that well at night? After a few minutes of silence, you wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering from a mixture of the cold and the knowledge that Jacob was out there somewhere, hunting you.

Not another minute had passed before little sprinkles of dirt fell on your shoulder, you glanced at them and felt a sinking in your stomach before a large hand came through the burrow opening, grabbing you by the jacket and hauling you out. You landed, stomach first, on the hard ground with a thud, wincing, before the heavy weight of Jacob’s knee pressed down on your back, pinning you.

He laughed from above, leaning down over you, hands pressing into the dirt on either side of your head, whispering into the crook of your neck “Not good enough.”

You growled back, trying to wriggle out from under him “I knew I should have shot your fucking knees out!”

The weight disappeared for a moment before it was replaced with something even heavier, pressing all the air out of you. You felt Jacob’s knees on either side of your hips; one of his hands ran through your hair while the other came around to grip your neck, both moving suddenly in unison to pull you up, arching your back, and tilting you head so that your face was close to his.

His husky voice sounded right next to your ear and even though you couldn’t see him, you swore that asshole was grinning like a fool. He pressed his lips to your pulse as he spoke “Tell me how hiding in a burrow was a good idea? Hm?”

The warmth of his mouth on your exposed neck gave you goosebumps, and when you failed to respond Jacob laughed softly and bit down, hard enough to draw blood. A small whine rose from your throat and you tried your best to choke it off, but by the way that Jacob’s breathing paused, you knew he heard it. After another second he licked at the bite mark, drawing his tongue across it slowly. Your breathing turned ragged as you struggled to control the noises that threatened to escape.

“That’s your punishment for getting caught, this time.” Something in his words made your thighs flex together and you let out a strained breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Jacob let go of your neck and hair, letting you fall flat against the ground again before standing. Instead of getting to your feet, you rolled onto your back, propping yourself up on your elbows. It was a mistake, because Jacob was still sanding with his legs on either side of your hips. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he brought his expression back under control.

However, when he didn’t say anything, you decided to test your luck. Slowly, you pushed yourself up to sit on your knees, never looking away from Jacob. He didn’t seem to react, his poker face holding firm, but his breathing did quicken just a little as he continued to stare down at you with those intense blue eyes.

With a quiet voice, very aware of the implications of your position, you asked “How long of a head start do I have this time?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did, his voice sounded coarse “One minute, 30 seconds.”

You didn’t say anything else as you began to get to your feet, never breaking eye contact until you turned and sprinted off into the dark. While running, you had a hard time getting the image of Jacob out of your mind, the feeling of his hands on your neck and running through your hair. Were they as gentle at first as you imagined they were? But the hardest thing was trying to forget the smell of him; earth and pine, wood smoke—they filled your head, lingered on your clothes, clogged your senses.

Coming up on another burrow, you didn’t even consider it, but then a different idea crossed your mind as you saw the uprooted tree leaning against a cluster of other trees. Trying to be quick about it, you took off your jacket, shivering against the cold air, and tossed it into the hole, just enough to catch a glimpse of it. Then, you climbed up the leaning tree and pulled yourself up into the strong limbs of an oak, crouching down in its thick, tangled branches high above the burrow entrance.

Jacob was used to being the hunter, so why would he ever look up?

Not long after getting to your position in the tree you heard the smallest sound of footsteps from down below. Jacob’s big frame stood out in the dark as he snuck around the side of the burrow, you saw his head shake a little—no doubt from catching the glimpse of your jacket and assuming you had made the same mistake twice. As he reached inside you thought you could hear him click his tongue in disappointment. You prepared yourself as you saw his frame go still, feeling just your jacket in his grasp.

The leap down from the branches wasn’t the hard part, it was landing on Jacob in a way that would take him down to the ground with you and hopefully knock him unconscious. But you didn’t have such luck as your chest collided with his shoulders—not his head, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You heard a grunt as Jacob collapsed on the frozen ground under you with a heavy thump—rifle and bow falling and clattering off into the dirt. Struggling to get air into your aching chest, you crawled off of him frantically, your fingers trying to find purchase in the solid ground.

But Jacob was quicker to recover as he grabbed after you. Spinning onto your back, you did your best to kick him off. His grip was strong though, and he was soon over you, pinning you down by your wrists, arms above your head. You panted hard, out of breath—all you could do was glare up at him, and he laughed.

He brought his face down, inches from yours, a grin spread over his lips “Clever, but still not good enough.”

“Eat. A. Dick.” You panted, your body starting to shiver now from a mixture of adrenaline and the cold.

This only made Jacob grin wider “Hm. Where did a pretty little mouth like that learn to say such horrible things?”

You thought the blush that crept up your face might glow in the dark. Twisting your mouth, you growled “I would have fucking had you if I had gotten your head instead of your shoulders—you’d be passed out like a—.”

“Ah, but you didn’t.” his eyes roamed down over your face “And now it’s time for your next punishment.”

You felt your throat go dry as he shifted his grasp to hold both your arms above your head with one hand, using his other to tilt your chin up, exposing the full length of your neck. Without your puffy winter jacket, you were wearing just a cotton tank top and you regretted that choice as his eyes trailed down your neck and over your chest.

Jacob started under your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses to your shivering skin, working his way down your throat. His hand slid down, fingers trailing along the side of your neck in an uncharacteristically gentle way. He reached the previous bite that he had given you and pulled at it with his teeth, making you hiss from the stinging pain. You felt his soft laugh against your skin before he moved past it and down to the curve of your neck.

You grumbled as he continued to nip and kiss along your collar bones “You know, this doesn’t seem like much of a punishment… Just seems like you’re looking for an excuse to put your mouth on me.”

There was a pause, Jacob’s lips stopping between your collar bones, you thought you felt him smirk briefly. His head raised up enough to meet your eyes with his, something burned in them that made jolts of electricity shoot straight between your legs “…You askin’ me to be rougher with you?”

Your face instantly flushed a deep red, all the way down to your neck “I—I’m…it’s…”

A slow smile crossed his face and you only blushed harder as you floundered for words, his voice was soft and low, “Kinda sounds like you want me to be rough.” He moved closer until his nose was almost touching yours, you felt his hand resting at the base of your neck, applying a light pressure as his thumb rubbed small circles that went lower and lower, beginning to tease just under the edge of your tank top.

Naturally stubborn and filled to the brim with snark, you spoke back through a smirk “Just curious about why you’re taking your sweet time getting to my punishment…”

A low grunt was all he offered as his hand moved from the base of your neck to your tank top strap. Hooking two fingers under it, Jacob pulled it to the side, letting it fall down your shoulder. Briefly his eyes traveled over the exposed skin and then back to meet yours.

You felt that his refusal to answer was something you could leverage “So, I’m gonna take a guess and say that you enjoy this—ah!”

He bit down on your shoulder, breaking the skin and leaving a very clear, crescent bite mark, and he was absolutely smirking as he did it. But what Jacob hadn’t expected was your reaction, instead of shrinking away from him, your back arched up—pressing yourself into him as a soft moan escaped your lips.

His breath tickled your chest as he moved down, nipping at the skin, amused eyes looking up to meet yours; half-lidded as you panted “Think you might be enjoying it too.”

“Shut up…” you hissed, trembling under the touch of his lips.

He hummed, with a little smile, hooking a finger under the edge of your tank top and pulling it down to expose the tops of your breasts, his finger dragging along through the valley of your cleavage. His eyes glanced up to yours as he bent down to kiss each swell, sucking hard and leaving marks on both.

“Which means your punishment won’t really be a punishment.” He growls lowly, moving to the dip in between your breasts and licking up the exposed length of it, making you shiver and eliciting another moan from you, this one a little louder.

His eyes catch yours and there’s a glint to them that makes your legs clench together and your heart pound “Hmm, what do I do with you, kitten?” You were left speechless, breath panting, as he gave you another slow look over. He motioned to your pinned arms with a nod “If I let you go, are you gonna behave?”

You nodded frantically; eyes wide. It made him laugh that wonderful, deep and rumbling sound. He brought his face in close, lips ghosting over yours as he tipped your chin up, blue eyes drilling into you “I want you to say it.”

Your voice was quick, needy “I—I’ll behave.”

Hot breath hit your face as his breathing quickened “Say it again.”

“Please, Jacob. I’ll behave for you.”

His voice was a deep growl in your ear as he leaned down to kiss under it “Perfect.”

You whined at the sound of his praise. You wanted more of it—craved it, and you knew he understood that from the way his grip tightened momentarily in response. The pressure on your wrists lifted slowly and by the time he had freed your arms completely, you were already moving them to wrap around his neck, running your fingers along the short stubble of hair on the lower half of his head and up to tangle in the longer strands at the top.

There was a quiet groan from him, and if he hadn’t been right next to your ear you weren’t sure you would have heard it. A second later, lips crashed into yours, it was so surprising you gasped. They were rough and chapped but everything you wanted as you began to kiss him back, moving your lips over his more frantically with every passing second.

His hands run down your sides, gripping and squeezing at your ribs until they found the bottom of your top and slid deftly under the fabric. His fingers were cold and sent shivers down your spine as they traveled up your skin to reach your breasts, cupping them in each hand.

Jacob swallows the moan you make and uses the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, sliding it against yours. A soft whimper escapes your throat at his forcefulness and it only serves to excite him more. His thumbs move to flick against your hard nipples, pinching and squeezing the soft skin. Your breathing has turned ragged now and you can feel your hips begin to move against him, seeking friction wherever you can find it.

He laughs softly, pulling his tongue out of your mouth and biting down on the bottom of your lip, fingers still pulling on your nipples. His dark and husky voice drives you wild “Someone’s impatient.”

The whine that escapes you again isn’t intentional, but still portrays exactly how desperate you are for relief. Shifting yourself, you move your legs so that Jacob’s knees are in between and lift them to wrap around his hips tightly. You can feel his hard cock pressing against you now and you buck your hips to rub along its length. Jacob moans, breaking the kiss and hanging his head for a moment, panting. Seeing his reaction to such a small movement and hearing his moan sends jolts of electricity straight to your stomach and you smile devilishly as you begin to grind your hips into his with more force.

His lips are back on yours again as he hungrily resumes kissing you, groaning louder from the feeling of your hips on him. Jacob’s hands move from your breasts to grip your lower back. Sitting up, he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, pulling you into his lap. Your hands move to run down his broad chest, feeling the defined muscle under his shirt, tracing over the chains of his dog tags as they snake down to the hem of his pants and fiddle with the clasp.

Strong hands gripped yours, moving them back, and a deep voice in your ear made you shiver with excitement “Not yet, kitten. I’m not done with you.”

Those same strong hands gripped under your thighs and tilted your torso down in a way that your upper back rested on the ground, legs moving to hook over Jacob’s broad shoulders as he remained sitting up. In one swift motion, he pulled your jeans down, revealing your soaked panties. Your face was aflame as he assessed the wetness between your legs, running a finger over the soaked fabric, then looking back to you.

“No point in keepin’ these—they’re ruined.” He said with a mischievous smirk just before tearing them off with a quick snap of the elastic. You squeaked in surprise, which excited him further as he looked down—eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of your dripping pussy.

Your legs began tremble as he ran a finger through your wet folds once, then brought his mouth down to your entrance. His moan mixed with yours as his tongue dragged along your slit, tasting you, then pulling back to look down at you with a smirk as you fought for breath. When he bent down, bringing his mouth back in between your legs, he brought a hand up to spread you. This time he attacked your clit, pulling at it with his teeth, causing you to cry out and arch your back, your fingers digging into the dirt above your head.

Jacob hummed at your reaction, obviously pleased, his tongue swirling tight circles on your clit as he started to tease at your entrance with the tip of his finger. As your lower body began to tighten and coil, edged on by his finger only dipping into you up to the first knuckle, you tried to buck your hips, eager for more as your needy moans filled the night. Thankfully, he indulged you, slipping in his finger and pumping it—he groaned feeling you tighten around it and slipped in a second, curling them into you with a vigor that made your vision go white.

You were already getting close, legs starting to shake and tremble as you threw your head back, crying out. As you moved back against Jacob’s face, grinding your hips—trying to chase that rising high to the finish, Jacob moved away, pulling out his fingers and licking them clean. The look you gave him was pouting, full of disappointment. He wore a wry smile as he unhooked your legs from his shoulders and brought you back up into his lap in a flash.

“Don’t give me that look—needy little thing.” He teased, brushing his hands along your back as he pulled you close against him and kissed you roughly. You could taste yourself on his tongue as it slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours in a feverish dance.

Whimpering impatiently, your hands flew to the clasp of his pants and this time he allowed you to undo the button and zipper. You swallowed his low moan as your hand slipped down into his boxers, gliding along the full length of his hard cock and gripping it at the base. The tip was wet with beads of arousal that spilled over as you gave him a few slow pumps, relishing the way his breath hitched at the motion.

Jacob’s hands clawed at your back as you freed him from his pants, letting his girthy erection spring free. His skin was hot to the touch as you continued pumping him, twisting your hand as it neared the head. As you increased your speed his face fell into the curve of your shoulder, letting out breathy moans against your skin. The sudden sense that you were in control made you feel emboldened and confident, it was an addicting feeling.

After you felt more hot drips of precum falling on your hand, you used your thumb to swipe it over his tip, drawing little circles just under the lip of his head. Jacob let out a noise that was halfway between a growl and a moan, biting down on your shoulder when grabbing your hips wasn’t enough for him. You made a mental note to check them in the mirror the next chance you got, part of you was excited to see the bruises that would undoubtedly form.

Wiggling forward, you positioned yourself to line up with the head of Jacob’s throbbing cock, heart hammering out of your chest in anticipation. Putting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself you sunk down, just enough to wrap yourself around his tip. His breathing was turning into ragged gasps now, shoulders tense with desire.

When you stopped at just the tip, his lips moved against your neck, teeth grazing your rapid pulse. It was a low warning, the sound of it gave you shivers “Tease me and you’ll regret it.”

You sank down on him a little further, gasping as you stretched around him. Having this control made you feel invincible, even if you were in the arms of the most dangerous man in the valley.

The grin that spread across your face leaked into your words as you teasingly whispered back “You know, I don’t think I will.”

There was a hard bite under your jaw in response, and at the same time Jacob thrusted up, burying himself in you to the base. You cried out at the overwhelming sensation of taking the entirety of his girth at once, which only encouraged him to do it again, pulling out to just the tip and then slamming it back in you. His thrusts started to speed up each time while his hands held your hips firmly, lips sucking at your neck, leaving it red and purple, occasionally a low groan slipped out of him.

Feeling that pressure in you begin to build again as your clit rubbed against him, your hands gripped his shoulders for support as you moved your hips down into his thrusts, matching his rhythm, making sure he was reaching as deep as possible.

“Fuck” Jacob hissed, gasping for breath into your neck, and you felt your walls flutter at the sound.

Your hips sped up, slamming down into him, desperate to hear him again. Soon, your thighs were starting to burn from the effort of going so fast and you panted for air, throwing your head back—steamy breath billowing out as you moaned. You were getting close again, eyes squeezing shut as you felt your release rushing forward.

But Jacob pulled himself out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Your fingers clawed deep into his shoulders as your piercing glare met his eyes. It was only for a second as he flipped you over from his lap, your bare knees and hands hitting dirt. There was a dark laugh from over your shoulder, a split second later you felt a sharp slap on your ass and his throbbing cock plunge itself back into you.

Just as you moaned out, the sound echoing through the forest, a tender hand ran through your hair before grabbing a fistful and yanking your head up, forcing you to arch your back. The other hand held onto your raised hips as Jacob began pounding hard into you from behind. You felt the force of his thrusts vibrate through your entire body.

“You like being in control?” He grunted from behind you in that dark, husky voice that made you clench around him “Well, now it’s my turn.”

Jacob slapped your ass again, the sharp sting adding to the pleasure of him stretching you out. The hand that was gripping your hip let go and you felt it brush your stomach as two fingers settled on your clit. Working precise circles on you, Jacob leaned down, never breaking the fast motion of his thrusts, and kissed the back of your neck.

His words were hitching and out of breath as he spoke in your ear “You’re going to come for me when I tell you to.” Your only response was a strangled moan and he pulled your hair back more, “Say it.”

Your walls squeezed at the sound of his firm command and he groaned, pressing his head into your shoulder for a brief moment. With a frayed voice you moaned, “I’ll come wh—when you tell me to!”

There was a hum of approval as he kissed the back of your shoulder. His breaths began to become hoarse and strangled, heard even over the furious sound of slapping flesh. It was enough to send you over the edge, but you wouldn’t dare come without his permission. Beads of sweat started to form on your brow as you held your orgasm back with increasing difficulty, biting down on your lip to try and control it.

Just as you thought you couldn’t handle anymore, tears welling in the corner of your eyes, his low growl sounded in your ear “Come for me, now.”

Releasing a strangled breath that quickly turned into a loud cry, you allowed your orgasm to wash over you, making you see stars. Faintly you could hear a guttural moan in your ear that made your legs shake and your head spin “Good girl.” There was a throbbing sensation, accompanied by a loud snarl, as Jacob spilled himself in you, his thrusts turning sloppy as he finished.

By the time you came back to your senses you felt Jacob’s hot breath against your back, pressing soft kisses into your spine as he pulled out of you slowly. You were still panting, unable to move as your legs trembled violently. Gentle hands guided you back to a sitting position and for a moment you forgot who you were with, shocked that such tenderness could come from Jacob.

You looked around at him as he laid on the ground, completely unbothered by the cold; his hands lingered on you, pulling you to join him as you felt goosebumps spread across your arms and legs. It was a perfect feeling as you nestled your head against his warm chest comfortably, his arms wrapping around your body to shield you from the cold.

His heart was still beating hard, thumping against your ear, filling the otherwise quiet night with noise. You wondered what was going through his mind as his fingers rubbed small circles into your back. He breathed in a deep and contented sigh, releasing it slow.

“This was better than hunting deer.” His voice vibrated from deep in his chest, it sounded like he might be smiling as he said it.

You couldn’t help but laugh “That’s high praise, coming from you.”

“I’ll be coming out here again soon…” one of his hands ran through your hair, brushing it back from your face, “Will you join me?”

“You can count on it.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: This was my first time writing 18+, now that the seal is broken, you can expect more. If it was garbage, well...it can only get better from here, right? More FarCry5 stuff is on its way. I will pour my blood, sweat, and tears into this fandom, even if it's mostly dead.

Thank you to everyone who supports this dumpster fire, and the overall trash bin that is my work. Without you, everything I write would stay in my drafts folder ❤️

[twisted-wolf]

If I Asked You to Stay, Would You? (Kylo Ren Drabble)

Fandom: Star Wars, Kylo Ren, f!reader

Word Count: 984

TW: Angst, Heartbreak

Notes: Thank you to @hopeamarsu for requesting "If I Asked You to Stay, Would You?" with Kylo Ren. 🥰

His lips brushing softly against your temple stirs you from your slumber. All the lights are still off and you can’t be sure what time it is, but he is awake and getting ready to leave and that is all that matters. As he begins to grab his mask and lightsaber from where he had left them next to the door, you whisper through the shadowy darkness, “Kylo…. You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”

You watch his shoulders sag as he sighs heavily before turning back to face you. Sitting up, you clutch the sheet close to your chest in an attempt to hide the quivering in your hand, but you are sure he notices. He always notices.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I didn’t want to wake you. I must go. The Supreme Leader was already expecting me back yesterday.” He walks over until he is standing next to the bed, but he still doesn’t reach out for you.

“Then what’s one more day? One more night? I hardly ever get to see you anymore and I can’t bear being away from you for so long. Surely even you could have run into trouble on the way back. Maybe you return with the heroic tale of your single-handed defeat of a battalion of Resistance fighters. Or how you had to take a longer route back to avoid a blockade.” You tug on his arm until he drops back down onto the bed. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean your head against his shoulder.

But he ignores your embrace, instead simply stating, “He would know it was a lie. I must go now. I’m sorry.”

“Kylo,” you release your hold on him and stare deep into his eyes as they seem to glow in the darkened room. “If I genuinely asked you to stay, would you?”

He tenderly cups your face in his hand. “My love, you know I would if I could. I would stay in this bed with you for the rest of eternity, but one does not keep the Supreme Leader waiting. I thought you understood that.” You nod softly. “And besides, we don’t want to make him suspicious. He can’t know about you.”

“I know. You’ve told me time and time again. If Snoke knew about me, he would use me against you, and that might mean he would hurt me or even kill me. And normally, I never fight you when you say you must leave, but this time feels different. Something feels wrong. Part of me thinks that if you walk out the door, I’ll never see you again.”

“That will never happen. I swear to you that I will return.” He takes your left hand in his and runs his fingers over the gold ring on your fourth finger. “That was the promise I made you when I gave you this. No matter what happens, I will always come back to you. Even if I have to fight through the entire First Order and the Rebellion to do so.”

You stare down at his fingers still caressing your ring. “And if Snoke did find out about me and ordered you to bring me to him, what would you do? Is your ambition really so great that you would turn me over to him?” He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently slips his hand from yours as he stares at the floor, and it is all the answer you need. You turn to face the wall. “I see. Well, then I think you’re right and you should leave. Because it’s clear where your true loyalty lies.”

He tries to turn your face to look at him, but you shrug him off. “My love, I’m doing this for us. So we can have the life and future we have dreamed of. Once I am as great of a Sith as my grandfather before me, I will be able to give you anything. Protect you from anything, even Snoke.”

“But I have everything I want right here, right now.” You say as you fight back the tears threatening to fall. “And yet, you continue to rip it from my grasp every time.”

“I am sorry, but you will see how much better it will be once I take my rightful place. Then we can be together forever.” He places a soft kiss on your bare shoulder blade before rising from the bed.

Even as he gathers his belongings once more, you refuse to look at him. And as you hear the door slide open, he says, “I will return as soon as I am able. I love you.”

There is a pause as his words linger in the air waiting for a response. But you cannot give him one. Not this time. And it is only after the door slides shut once more and you know he is gone do you collapse to the bed in tears.

It is months before Kylo manages to slip away to see you again. So much had happened during that time, and now he is returning to you as the Supreme Leader after having defeated Snoke once and for all. Which means the two of you are safe and can finally live out of the shadow of danger. You can finally be together.

But from the moment the door slides open, Kylo can sense something is wrong in the darkened space. The place seems musty and unused. He switches on the lights and stumbles back in disbelief. Everything that made it your place had vanished. All your clothes, your gadgets, your personal effects. Gone. All except the gold ring left in the center of the table in front of him.

And as Kylo sinks to his knees, he thinks about what he has gained since he was last in this room, and if it was truly worth what he had lost.

[twisted-wolf]

Punishment (James Keziah Delaney x Reader) [Request]

Gif Source: henrycvill

James couldn’t make sense of what was flickering at the corners of his vision. He knew if he looked directly at it, the hallucination or prophetic message would disappear or, worse, become more incomprehensible. It moved and shifted in his peripherals, writhing like fire or trees thrashing in the wind.

He tried to settle in that trance-like state that allowed him to better receive the vision, his eyes slightly losing focus as his body went slack by degrees. The noise of the port fell away, the vision beginning to sharpen as he attuned himself to it intuitively, not quite sure how to bring it into center view.

A few words fell from his lips, echoing in his skull. He twitched violently, accosted by the sights swarming before his eyes.

A hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. Pure instinct burned through his veins. He spun around, knife in hand, seizing whomever had dared touch him.

You stared up at him, lips curled into a snarl. The knife at your throat did not diminish the contempt and anger in your eyes.

“Are you mad?” The words slipped out of you in a hiss.

Keep reading

[twisted-wolf]

That gossip he could abide, as it would continue to add ever more layers to the growing monster that was his reputation, a thing as dark and towering as ancient beasts long since passed from the earth.

Ahhhh! I just love your way with words! 😍

“If you do not leave this very instant, I will remove you from the premises myself.”

I feel like that sounds more like he will remove him from the world of the living. 😄

Skittish Animal (James Keziah Delaney x Reader) [Request]

Gif Source: strangebrews

James didn’t wish for one, but he obtained the services of a maid after it became apparent that the house was in unacceptable state for continuous occupation there. The locals had enough gossip to fill their inane chattering than adding the state of his home to it, even if few individuals ever passed over the threshold and into his domain.

A maid, even a live-in one, would do more than clean the house, after all. She would report back to her friends and to others hushed cries about the strangeness that radiated from him so strongly it tainted the very air and permeated the stagnant interior of his residence. That gossip he could abide, as it would continue to add ever more layers to the growing monster that was his reputation, a thing as dark and towering as ancient beasts long since passed from the earth.

Let the people wonder, and let them fear.

Keep reading

[twisted-wolf]

That, you supposed, was one of Bane’s many gifts. Through the most mundane gestures or words, he could choose the exact emotion to instill into someone’s heart.

Perfect description!

“Yes. Hypothetically.”

Of course!  😄

Then....

My. That would be imprinted on your brain for a while.

😳

And the end.... 

My 🖤

🥺

Do you feel in charge? - Bane x f!reader**

summary: Bane likes to tease you. how far can he push you though?

word count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: established relationship, usage of toy, dom!Bane (+ watch out for soft!Bane too), edging, vaginal fingering, dry humping, doggy. 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: thank you @cheshire-noir​​​ for enabling me and brainstorming with me cause shiiiit this man can bench press me any damn day.

Defining the circumstances of your encounters with Bane was tough. You ended up in his circle of entrusted vigilantes because you had medical experience and he needed someone to take care of the men.

While hesitant at first, you agreed. Bane was the last person you’d want to overstep, so you’ve adjusted to life beneath the surface, secrecy and most importantly, efficiency.

Bane had been watching you from afar for weeks. He would only stare when he was far away from you, never one to linger with his eyes. You were operating everything with ease, mending wounds like they hadn’t been there in the first place. Clearly, you were endowed with something significant, as well as a keen mind, keen instincts, and attractiveness.

Keep reading

[twisted-wolf]

...put a cute red ribbon on it.

I knew it was Zsasz! 😁

A/N - Be polite. When someone send something to you, always send something back. 😁

------ 1 New Message -------

Scarecrow

Did you receive my present?

Y/N

Yup. Currently in the trash, traumatizing some rats. You should hear they scream. Maybe they are seing some kind of gigantic cat. You truly did great work 👏

Scarecrow

You were supposed to be the one being gased.

Y/N

I'm a simple woman, I see a suspicious box, I throw it through the window and directly into the garbage 💁🏻‍♀️

...

Did you receive my present?

Scarecrow

You sent me one?

Y/N

Yeah, it's on its way. I put a cute red ribbon on it.

Scarecrow

...

WTAF?!

...

WHY THE FUCK ZSASZ IS SHOOTING AT MY PLACE WITH A MACHINE GUN AND A RIBBON AROUND HIS NECK????!!!!!

Y/N

SUPRISE MOTHER FUCKER.

...

He didn't like the chocolate box and the love letter you joined. Actually, he was the one who had the idea to send a gift back. I just carefully wrapped the ribbon. 🎁

[twisted-wolf]

I shot her.

Oh wow! That's not gonna end well!

Ah lol what a plot twist in the end! 🤣

A/N - United we stand, divided we fall. 😬

------- 1 New Message ------

*You have been added to a group discussion*

Oswald Cobblepot

Since when are we all texting each other in a happy family Discussion, ED?!

Barbara Kean

+1 for Ozzy, what is the meaning of this fucking farce Nygma?!

Jim Gordon

What the hell am I doing here?

Harvey Bullock

My line, Jim. What the fuck is that?

Lee Tomkins

Well that would be mine too Harvey, Jim.

Barbara Kean

Oh fuck me what is SHE doing here too?!

The Riddler

We'll need her, she's a doctor.

Oswald Cobblepot

?

Barbara Kean

?!

Jim Gordon

???

Harvey Bullock

Copy that

Lee Tomkins

For what? What happened?

The Riddler

Ok everyone, DON'T PANIC. we need to be quick, effective and discreet.

Oswald Cobblepot

Is Galavan back from the dead AGAIN?

Barbara Kean

Did you kill your knew girlfriend AGAIN

Jim Gordon

He wouldn't add us if it was the case, Barbara.

Barbara Kean

Fuck you Jim.

Harvey Bullock

Look I have a beer appointment in 5min so can you make your point Nygma?

Lee Tomkins

And I have a corpse needing emergency care.

Barbara Kean

For what, the guy is already dead Tomkins.

Lee Tomkins

Don't speak.

Riddler

ENOUGH!

...

Look, earlier I made a contract with Y/N to kill one gang. One of the guys jumped on her and I tried to help from the distance while they were fighting.

...

I shot her.

Barbara Kean

OH MY GOD! Why are you telling us, you retard?! You make us accomplices of your idiocy!

Oswald Cobblepot

+1 for Barbara, I had to leave my office in a rush while Victor went in without knocking! AGAIN!

...

Do you wish to kill everyone with your confession ED?! CAUSE VICTOR WILL FUCKING KILL ALL OF US WHEN HE'LL KNOW!

Jim Gordon

Why did you shot Ed?! You suck at it!

...

What were you thinking?! That we have an army at GCPD for when Victor Zsasz is going Berserk??!!

Harvey Bullock

We had that, in the one woman one army girl you just shot, Nygma.

Lee Tomkins

Is she breathing? Where did you shot? Is the bullet still inside? How is the bleeding?

The Riddler

Thank you doctor, you're the ONLY ONE helping here. Shot her in the plexus. I can't tell if the blood is from the shot, her fight or the five dead bodies around her but there is a lot of it. I don't know if she's breathing or if the bullet went out, I don't want to approach.

Oswald Cobblepot

Are you KIDDING ME! GO CHECK IDIOT!

Barbara Kean

With luck your poor skills didn't kill her.

Jim Gordon

Send the address we are coming

Harvey Bullock

Annnnd it's gone. My beer appointment was dead the very moment you pushed that fucking trigger Nygma!

The Riddler

What if she's like a snake and can still attack even when dead?

...

Oh crud!

...

Her phone is ringing.

...

OH GOD! Her ring tone is Zsasz's voice grumbling "UUUGH UNEXPECTED"!

...

What do I do?!

Oswald Cobblepot

WE. ARE. DEAD. they always answer each other calls.

Barbara Kean

Oswald, try to distract him. Give him something to do and say it's super urgent or something!

Oswald Cobblepot

On it!

Harvey Bullock

Answer it, take a high-pitched flat female voice bored with the very concept of life and say something sassy or a with macabre cynisism maybe he would be fooled.

Jim Gordon

Send him a text. Like: Hi dearest~ can't talk for the moment I'm dealing with a mark. Call you soon ❤️

But you'll need her password, I remember she encrypted everything last time we checked.

The Riddler

It's "Zsaszified".

Ok done.

Harvey Bullock

🤞🤞

The Riddler

Oh no.

*1 File attached - Screenshot*

Victor Zsasz

You're not Y/N. 5W and a D., now.

...

HELP! The "D" is for "Do I have to shoot you"!

Oswald Cobblepot

Well, that sure would ease a lot of minds.

Barbara Kean

Agreed. Delete this conversation and die in peace.

Harvey Bullock

+1 for the two freaks.

The Riddler

HE'S TRACKING HER PHONE!

...

Oh double crud. He downloaded her last conversations...

Barbara Kean

Y/N is the hacking genius of the couple, not him. He'll just track you.

*Victor Zsasz joined the conversation*

Victor Zsasz

Hi guys.

The Riddler

OH DEAR. I AM SO SORRY.

Oswald Cobblepot

Knocking Victor! Even in chat conversations, we discussed this!

Jim Gordon

How the hell did you joined?!

Harvey Bullock

I want pine-tree for my coffin.

*Lee Tomkins left the conversation*

Barbara Kean

COWARD!

Victor Zsasz

All of you will become sweet, sweet scars on my body.

Jim Gordon

Look, Victor! STAY CALM. We need to find Ed and Y/N to help her.

Victor Zsasz

I'm deadly calm. Jim.

...

You'll be too, in a moment.

* Y/N - better than the Christ joined the conversation*

Y/N - Better than the Christ

✌️✌️✌️ Your shooting skills are inexistants Ed. You missed.

The Riddler

WHAT?!

Oswald Cobblepot

YOU HARLOT! YOU FOOLED US!

Barbara Kean

I would have found it funny if I wasn't on the fooled side, Y/N.

Jim Gordon

Are you kidding us Y/N?!

Y/N

Well yes, but actually no. When Ed missed me, the guy I was fighting with fell on me. He died and I was knocked out for a minute or two. Then I heard Ed panicking and mumbling like crazy so I laid back and enjoyed the show. 🍿

...

So proud of your spirit of collaboration, kids 👍

*Oswald left the conversation*

*Barbara left the conversation*

*Harvey left the conversation*

*Jim left the conversation*

The Riddler

You're despicable.

*The Riddler left the conversation*

Victor Zsasz

That was a good one, I really was ready to skin them alive sweetness.

...

Never do it again, or send me a text before.

Y/N - Better than the Christ

Roger that 💜

[twisted-wolf]

“Hi Sweetness ~”, his fake enthusiasm and the lack of smile on his face were excellent indicator of Victor Zsasz current mood: any wrong move and you’re dead.

Oh-ho! 😬

The fucker had the guts to say something that stupid and with that face! 

Of course he has! 😄

Ohhh, the end! 

👏👏👏

A/N - I have to thank @kind-wolf for that one. Imagine Y/N meeting her ex and being joined by Victor. It's more dark than I anticipated, but I hope you'll enjoy it. ☺️

Warning: Victor being Victor. I mean, it's no secret that our dear hitman his a yandere and has some strong yandere tendencies.

Author Babbling: I know that yandere are super popular now because of all the manwhas and films, ecc. And I enjoy them in fiction but that's it. Guys, don't look for a yandere or an abusive relationship IRL. Only professionals doctors may be able to help them. So, take a good care of yourself and look for a relationship based on respect, understanding, consent and complicity. 🙏🙌😘

-- GOTHAM - NEAR THE NARROWS - 1:45AM --

Only a 'thud' resonated in the flat. A fresh corpse was now lying on the floor, slowly painting it with fresh blood. Nothing too challenging nor difficult for her tonight. The guy tried to extort Falcone and lost his pathetic life for it. In Y/N's opinion, the man death was natural selection.

If he was stupid enough to think he could make it mocking the absolute king of the underworld, then his death would just be another story in the Darwin's Awards records, taking its place among the most idiotic ideas who led people to their demise.

She was putting her gun in her holster when a faint creak and a sudden tension stopped her. The henchwoman turned swiftly on her feet and kicked whoever tried to surprise her from behind. When her leg was blocked then strongly grabbed, she didn't wait and put all her weight on her member to jump on her assailant. One hand grabbed his left shoulder and the other a full grasp of hair, bringing the head of the other person down. With her free leg, she punched her knee hard in their nose.

The man, let her leg go and groan while putting one of his hand on his nose to stop the bleeding. "You're still pretty quick, Y/N" She heard him say in a muffled voice before he finally showed her his pained face.

Ah. Well, shit, she thought and put some distance between them, just in case. "Don't be so suspicious my dear, I'm not here to kill you". Without moving, she decided to acknowledge him. "Then what the heck are you doing here, Thomas?"

The man smiled a bit and shrugged. "I took a contract back in Metropolis which led me to good old Gotham. I wasn't too far from here. Just when I finished I saw a very pretty and familiar woman who I wanted to greet, since fate put each other face to face again" He answered.

She raised one bored eyebrow. "Not really face to face, since you had to stalk me here and appeared in my back. Sounds more like a desperate move than a fate encounter" She grawled.

Thomas sneered loudly and make a step in her direction. "My were you always so cold? I have yet vivid memories of one hell of a hot woman, riding me like a fucking valkyrie."

Y/N shrugged one shoulder in a disinterested manner. "Yes, that was me being horny during one of our sex friendly meetings. However, we ended that three years ago and I have better things to do now than having a little nostalgia moment about my best equestrian exploits on your cock."

The other assassin laughed loudly this time and shook his head. "My, I even missed your foul mouth, woman! Look. I just wanted to say hello and reconnect with one of my best sex partners. Maybe we should go have a drink, I am free right now and it seems like you too. What do you say?" He asked mischievously.

Her face went blank. "Dodge." She said cryptically. "Come ag-! " Thomas just had the time to step back when he heard a whistling sound fusing through the room and coming close to his face. He turned in shock in direction of the wall next to them and saw a bullet encased in the dirty cement.

"What the fuck was that Y/N?!" Asked the man angrily. But before she could answer or he could scream louder, two low whistles were heard from the now broken window.

Oh dear. She thought he was on an opposite roof or something, not listening at the fucking window! Since when was he here? That, she would probably never know. "Hi Sweetness ~", his fake enthusiasm and the lack of smile on his face were excellent indicator of Victor Zsasz current mood: any wrong move and you're dead.

"Vic, hi", she answered nonetheless and was utterly pleased to see all Thomas' colors leave his face. To the assassin's credit, he forced himself to stay still when Victor stepped over the window with a silent grunt to get in and walked straight to her.

Without any further notice, Victor freaking Zsasz took her hand and put a fucking kiss on her knuckles just before snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her against his side, in a side hug way.

A kiss on her temple brought her back and she concentrated again on the two men, in front and next to her. "You know each other?" Victor had the guts to ask with a purposely idly voice, his eyebrows high on his forehead and a very convincing curious gaze.

Y/N sighed deeply. "Yeah, kind of. Victor this is Thomas my ex-sexfriend. Thomas, this is Victor" She was immediately cut by the best hitman in Gotham, who leaned a bit in direction to the other man, in a 'I'm gonna tell something big right now, brace yourself' way and precised with his still good-natured false face "Her fiancé".

The woman grabbed his hip hard, smiling at Thomas while tightening her grip so much she knew he would bruise. The fucker had the guts to say something that stupid and with that face! He cleary was enjoying torturing her right now and toying with her ex.

"Wow. Didn't know you wrapped Victor Zsasz himself around your finger, Y/N" Tried to joke Thomas still looking warily at the gun in Victor hand. "Hum. Congrats then... I suppose" Y/N's ex added, still highly uncomfortable.

Victor looked at her with a wolfish grin and pulled her even closer, pushing the farce even more when he peck her cheek. "Yeah thank you, man", he said idly, still putting butterfly kisses on the side of her face.

He was having the fucking time of his life right now. And the fact that she knew, that he knew that she knew, gave her a furious urge to blow his head.

When she was ready to snap and make the barrel of her gun also put butterfly kisses on Zsasz idiotic face, the clearing of Thomas' throat expanded the homicidal maniac's life. Clearly he didn't get the clue Victor gave him to shut up and take his leave. "Look, Y/N. Maybe we can see each othe-.."

"Tom." cut suddenly Victor. "Not now. " his voice went very low, serious and utterly dangerous. The hitman was now looking an invisible point on the wall he put a bullet in a few minutes ago. Not even acknowledging the other man presence with a look anymore. He was losing his patience.

This tone was the "Do something I don't like, even breath a bit too loud and you're dead". Thomas gulped. Victor, even if he was not looking at him, was now very still. Like a predator, waiting. His two arms were securely locked around Y/N's shoulders, in a possessive demeanor.

The woman didn't seem to mind though. "Thomas", she finally said in a very calm tone while he saw Zsasz grip tightening around her slowly but surely, without any sign he was going to stop crushing her like a snake. "You should take the cue, and fuck off" She added. He admired her stoic face while she should be in great pain with how strongly Zsasz was holding her now.

He nodded warily, put his hands in the air defensively and stepped back slowly. "Ok. See you around, Victor, Y/N" He muttered carefully. The duo didn't move until they heard the door creaking, indicating they were now alone in the flat.

But he didn't move, his eyes still wide on the wall. So she decided to speak: "Dearest." Just that. Because she knew making one tiny move would be a great mistake when he was in this state. An angry Victor was rare and dangerous. But he was not angry right now. No, no. He was jealous, which was even more lethal.

The loss of his parents was a brutal shock to him. He felt like death stole them from him and had experienced a terrible fall from normality because of it. Now that she represented a new constant in his twisted crazy life, he couldn't support the mere idea of her being stolen, be it by another human being or death itself.

In this state, he would kill every and anybody to prevent that and would probably also try to cage her somewhere he would be the only one able to reach her. She knew it pretty well and couldn't have that.

He was too close for her to twist and escape his grip, so she had to calculate very carefully her next actions. "Vic, let's go grab a pizza and milkshakes", she offered in her best flat tone and blank face.

With something domestic, implying that they would go in a safe place and just be the two of them, she knew she would create a sense of security with a pizza-milkshakes-films routine.

She knew it worked when Zsasz slowly lean forward and kissed her forehead with a bit too much force. Then his grip loosened and she felt him nod, still kissing her.

When they finally quit the flat and were walking down the gloomy streets, his flat voice broke the silence. "I missed his head on purpose" He said. "Yeah. I know you wanted to toy with him." She saw a sadistic smile on the corner of his lips. "I also know the buzz of your phone two minutes ago was the girls telling you that they have caught him."

She was looking in front of her but saw his eyes now staring at her intensely. "Have fun dearest, he was a cunt." She added in a bored voice. Now she was perfectly able to see his boyish grin. Thomas would regret he hadn't died in that dirty flat earlier, she could trust Victor on this.

[twisted-wolf]

I won't if you won't, dearest

🤣 fucking killed me! 

A/N - Ed learnt something today: Never ask Zsasz if you're not 100% sure you want to know something and can stomach it.

------ 1 New Message ------

Unknown

It's The Riddler, Y/N gave me your number. I need the help of a professional.

Victor Zsasz

Just to be clear, I am no doctor.

Riddler

I KNOW THAT. You're the last person I'd go if I needed medical help.

Victor Zsasz

You want to put a contract on Penguin's head then?

Riddler

No, I will be the one to defeat Oswald. But for that, I need some advices from the best stalker in town.

Victor Zsasz

Oh. You want me to teach you how to stalk a prey?

...

That's unexpected.

Riddler

I'm a self-taught kind of man. I just need to know if you think I'm going in the right direction.

*1 File attached*

Victor Zsasz

Cute. You put pictures on your walls, drawings and red strings connecting them to a map. Aren't you an adorable little dork?

Riddler

Don't make fun of me! I am asking for guidance not mockery!

Victor Zsasz

Where did you put his tracker?

Riddler

What?

Victor Zsasz

Under the skin is the best place, so you're sure it can't be lost. Ideally, put it in the back so your mark never see it but you'll need them asleep for that.

Riddler

Um... Well that... Would be impossible now. Since Oswald and I aren't close anymore.

...

Did you do that on Y/N? Does she KNOW?!

Victor Zsasz

I think she highly suspect it.

...

Anyway, where did you put your snitches? Cameras? Do you already know how long Penguin stays in the bathroom, how many times a day he has to pee, how many bites it takes him to eat his food? His entire schedule from when he's opening his eyes to when he falls asleep?

Riddler

That's a bit too much don't you think?

Victor Zsasz

You asked stalker advices, take it or leave.

Riddler

Ok! Fine. I'll work on that. Thanks I guess.

Victor Zsasz

You're welcome.

----- 1 New Message -----

Riddl-ED

GO CHECK YOUR BACK NOW!

Y/N

Isn't it "watch your back" when you want to make a threat Ed dear?

Riddl-ED

Of course it is, you IMBECILE! Nevermind! It's your problem.

...

Go check your back in a mirror.

Y/N

Ok?

----- 1 New Message -----

Mrs Sweetness Zsasz

Did you just make the "put a tracker under the skin of your mark" joke to Ed?

Victor Zsasz

Yes.

Mrs Sweetness Zsasz

Oh god, that one is pure gold! Thanks for the laugh.

Victor Zsasz

Always a pleasure sweetness.

...

Don't go check your back.

Y/N

I won't if you won't, dearest

Victor Zsasz

My, you're good

Y/N

That's what he said.

[twisted-wolf]

Her sarcasm made the older cop break a cold sweat. 

🤣 

I love how she toyed with him! 

A/N - I wanted to imagine how Jim and Y/N met. That's one possible scenario. And it gives him the occasion to indirectly see Victor and have the creeps before the iconic scene, when Zsasz came to fetch him at GCPD.

*The 4W are for: When, Where, Who and What.

Hope you'll like it, enjoy ☺️

----- 1 New Message -----

Y/N

Tell Falcone I'll not be able to attend the 1st part of the meeting. I'm at GCPD right now.

Victor Zsasz

4W?

Y/N

This morning. Chinese district. Maroni. A shooting competition with his fucking men, GCPD joined and a rookie - Jim Gordon - jumped on me when I tried to clear my way out.

Victor Zsasz

On my way.

Y/N

You know I'm perfectly capable of getting out of here right?

...

Vic?

...

Shit

She sighed, putting her phone back on the table of the interrogation room. Only to see the GCPD's rookie Jim Gordon take it back, and grunt when he realized she had locked it.

"Making a call is not sending texts, Miss Y/N", he scolded. She blinked and tilt slightly her head on the right, making him shift uncomfortably under her very piercing gaze. She remembered him of a hawk like this, ready to jump on him and rip his head at any moment. "Just said I wanted to contact someone, Inspector. Never precised if it was a call, text, or smoke signals".

Smart-ass, he thought while gritting his teeth. That woman he caught a few hours ago was infuriating. First, she injured almost half of the cops firing on the mobsters and her. She was indeed a professional. Second, she gave him one hell of a headbutt and crushed his throat between her thighs, while shooting two Maroni's men. A migraine was pounding in his head like it rarely did. And when he finally immobilized her, she had raised a brow and dare to ask him if he was 'right in the head or simply having a death wish'.

Before he came in Gotham, he heard about the high criminality rate, the corruption, the impunity of rogues like her. But now, now. He realized how much the rumors were true. And he was boiling. Nothing was making sense here.

"Eh, you have quite the potential Jim, can I call you Jim?" He frowned harder. "No." She just chuckled in a good-natured way. "Right, not boy-scoutty enough, uh? We'll go with Jimbo then."

Before he had the chance to protest, she continue. "There is a darkness in your eyes, Jimbo. You'll do great things here in Gotham once you learn how it works" She taunted. "By the way, where is Bullock? Isn't he your chaperone here?"

Gordon jolted like the thunder has stroke him. "How do you know about this?" He whispered. She just grinned. "Oh God! JIM! What the fuck are you doing??!" Boomed Harvey's voice just when the door of the room smashed against the wall to let the old cop enter.

"Harvey~" Sang the voice of the woman though her grin didn't reach her eyes. "Hi". She finally said in a very bored tone, her smile long forgotten.

The old cop gulped hard but forced himself to calm down. "Look, it's a mistake. Please excuse the kid Y/N, he didn't know who you are nor who you work with."

"I KNOW who she is, Harvey! Y/N, a prolific assassin working mostly for Falcone! A cold-blooded killer, a true psychopath and a sadist." Snapped Jim.

"Oh my, look at this, Jimbo did his homework pretty well Harvey, you must be a proud dad." Her sarcasm made the older cop break a cold sweat. And he had to clear his throat. "Does Falcone know about your presence here?" He asked with a noticeable tension in his voice.

The woman blink lazily and sat further in her sit, crossing her leg and looking at the two cops. "He may not be your first problem at the moment, Harvey dear", she answered cryptically. Just when she finished her sentence a series of shoots resonated in the main hall.

"You called Zsasz", whispered a livid Bullock. Three new shoots were fired. "Well I don't know, does it sound like the fucking pizza delivery now, Harvey?"

The old cop didn't respond but grabbed Jim by the collar and pushed him out of the room. Still holding him, he opened another door and threw him on the other side of the one-way mirror of the interrogation room, locking the door. "Don't make any noise if you value your fucking life!" Bullock said in a low voice. What was happening?

From the other side of the glass, the new cop saw the door waltz on its hinges when a heavy Doc Martens pushed it open. There, stands a tall lean but muscular man with the most terrifying aura he has ever seen.

His black clothes accentuated his very pale skin and his lack of hair, eyebrows and eyelashes gave him an even more intimidating presence. The man was holding a gun in each hand but didn't seem ready to aim at his partner, which ease Jim's nerves a bit.

"Sweetness", He heard the man salute, talking to Y/N who seemed perfectly relaxed. "Dearest", She answered in the same bored tone. "The Don was worried and sent me to fetch you", He explained as he walked in front of her and raised her chin with the barrel of his gun. She didn't seem to mind and let him scan her face and the big hematoma on her left cheek that Jim gave her during their fight. The bald man's jaw tensed hard, making a vein pop angrily on the side of his neck.

Jim saw the woman odd smile, like when you're having an inside joke with a friend. "Did he now?" She asked mockingly before raising her now free hands from the cuffs he had so much trouble to put on her. "Sorry to disappoint but there is no damsel in distress to save here"

He let her face go and grinned. In a terrifying wolfish way. "Who said I was here to save you, I may be here to protect old Harvey from your wrath." He finally said. This time it was her turn to wear the same grin. "Now that is interesting!" She laughed.

"Don't want to interrupt, lovebirds, but we are all busy people", tried Harvey in a not so relaxed tone. "Zsasz, you got you're girl, she's free to go wherever she wants." He added, his right hand gripping his gun hard.

The bald man didn't say anything for a long minute. God, he didn't even glance at Bullock. Jim froze when he saw the empty pools which was supposed to be Zsasz's eyes slowly looking at the one-way glass. He was staring it. Staring at him. At this very moment, Jim felt like a rabbit in front of a car ready to hit it: paralized.

The creepy blank stare seemed to come back to life when Y/N raised from her sit, pass next to him and touched a point between his shoulders with her index. "Let's go grab a milkshake, dear", she suggested.

Zsasz blinked and focused his cryptic gaze on her. She didn't flinch, just looked him back, as if they were having a silent conversation. Finally, the hitman nodded and followed her out of the room. "Always a pleasure, Harvey dear" She simply said before her piercing eyes fell on the mirror and she waved her hand at him. After that, they were gone.

Harvey waited a solid two minutes before unlocking the door and freeing Jim. "What the hell was that?!" roared the new cop, pointing at the exit the duo took a moment ago.

"That", started Bullock, "was your fucking cue to stop crossing the lines Gordon!" He ended roaring. "What were you thinking! If you want to die, dude, that was the worst way to do it!"

The old cop sighed deeply and continued. "Look, Y/N is indeed an assassin, and a psycho AND a sadist. But she is also the Zsasz's trap card. You catch her, you've got an angry Zsasz right on your tail. The fucker is far worse than his little girlfriend trust me."

Gordon frowned but stay silent, waiting for the older to explain more. "The only rational thing to do when you see him or her is to run. Do you hear me?"

That was too much for Jim. "Run? Are you kidding me? They're not some monsters from a fantasy book, they're just creepy humans for god sake! We had the girl and you just let her go!" he accused.

The look Harvey gave him was one of disbelief. "The chick exploded the longest recorded sniper kills. Don't let her idiotic antics and beautiful face fool you, she's a beast, with another beast wrapped around her finger." The old cop pointed his finger on him. "I know you did the war and may be one good soldier. But trust me, if you succeed to capture her. That's because she let you do it. Why? I do not know. But it's certainly not good."

As on cue, Jim's phone buzzed in his pocket.

----- 1 New Message -----

Unknown

It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Jimbo. Let's all play together soon.

----- End of message -----

Goosebumps crawled under his skin as Harvey read the text. "Did I told you she also is a fucking hacking genius?"

No. No he didn't tell him.

[twisted-wolf]

"I mean, if we wanted to kill you guys... You would be dead". The hitman added with blink and a small grin.

This shouldn't be adorable...but here we are!

"Is that a trick question?" 

🤣

-- GCPD - INTERROGATION ROOM - 3PM --

"Why is it always the two of you?" Sighed Jim. The poor man was exhausted. Earlier this night, he, Harvey and a few cops tried to go in a gloomy building to chase a thug who was escaping them.

Nothing too complicated until they crossed paths with the infamous assassins duo, who was up to no good, judging by they sniper rifles and the too many weapons stored in their holsters. Jim being Jim, had to stop them and they weren't ready to take the easy way. His heroic complex - as Harvey called it - led their party to aim at the assassins and opening fire when they politely invite them to "go peacefully fuck themselves" , Y/N's courtesy, of course. The woman had quite a foul mouth when she wanted to.

"They were warning shots, Jimbo" Victor casually said from his sit, bringing the inspector back in the interrogation room. "I mean, if we wanted to kill you guys... You would be dead". The hitman added with blink and a small grin.

Next to him, Y/N let escape a snort, before putting her right leg on Zsasz's left thigh and balancing it like an impatient kid. The hitman response was to bounce said thigh in a rhythm only the two of them knew. "He's right, you know..." She laughed. Seeing his stern face, Y/N clicked her tongue and sighed clearly annoyed. "Don't be like that Jim, Victor and I were just on a date, walking peacefully".

"And heavily armed?!" Snapped Gordon, smashing both of his hands on the table. "we were just walking the weapons, Victor doesn't want a dog, so we compromised."

Jim wanted to cry. Victor or Y/N alone was difficult enough. Together? They were an incredible pain in his ass. "Do you think I am a fool?!" he asked with an incredulous face.

She turned in Victor's direction, and saw him already looking at her patiently. Y/N pointed the cop with her index finger and asked with her best innocent voice: "Is that a trick question?" Zsasz shrugged theatrically with a dumb face. "Never too sure with him", He drawled.

They were having a ball right now, thought Jim bitterly. Suddenly Victor sat himself better and looked at him dead in the eyes. "Look, we're all really busy people. I really want to grab my milkshake, treat my lovely woman and make a great impression." He fought another wolfish grin when Jim scoffed and continued: "So, what now? You wanna do a strip search?"

"I'm fucking out of this shit", finally said Harvey from the back of the room, where he didn't speak since the beginning of the interrogation. The old cop just walked out and slammed the door shut.

Jim was still in shock after Victor stupid question and looked at Y/N in disbelief. He saw the duo exanging a long glance before facing him again with smug grins. "We'll let Alvarez do it", Y/N said. "He's handsome", Zsasz stupidly agreed.

[twisted-wolf]

It’s 2022 people. For the love of God USE THE READ MORE OPTION.

[twisted-wolf]

Nawwww! 🥰😍🥰😍

------ 1 New Message ------

Victor Zsasz

Will be a little bit late, Sweetness. Last minute emergency 💔

Y/N

Be quick, the pizza's here.

Victor Zsasz

Damnit. Didn't have time to grab the milkshakes, I'm stuck here for now.

Y/N

You know me, always with a back up plan.

I knew something happened when you didn't call. They're home made.

Y/N

Also rented our movie.

Victor Zsasz

God your perfect.

Fucking marry me. Now. Y/N.

Y/N

If you are at my door within the hour. I may consider it.

Victor Zsasz

...

40min max.

Better choose your wedding dress.🖤

----

A/N. Obviously pictures aren't mine. Credits go to their owners.

Happy valentine's day 💐🌹♥️