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yelenasdiary · 28 days ago

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Aunt May's Pumpkin Patch

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You surprise Yelena with her first pumpkin patch adventure.

Fluff

Warnings: None | 1.5K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: Just a little idea my friend gave me when he said he was excited to go to the pumpkin patch this year! I hope you all enjoy! x

October Special 2024 Masterlist

In the cozy apartment filled with the aroma of waffles and fresh coffee, Yelena smiles softly as she wraps her arms around you from behind, placing a kiss on your left cheek. “All this is already making waking up before 9am worth it” she says softly as you melt in her arms. “Well, I figured if I feed you and caffeinate you, you won’t be so grumpy” you playfully tease as you place the last waffle from the pan to the plate.

Yelena spins you gently in her arms to face her, “I am good at my job, but I still cannot work out what you have planned” she says, making you chuckle. “Good! Because it’s supposed to be a surprise, now, kiss the chef and have some breakfast” you smiled softly, “we’re on a time schedule” you added. Yelena kissed you softly but deeply, pulling you even closer into her arms while you managed to skilfully turn the stove off without breaking the kiss.

“Let me take that for you, can’t have you doing all the work” Yelena playfully winked after pulling away and taking the small plate of stacked waffles.

Sitting across from one another, breakfast adds to the tone for a perfect day, Yelena overloads her waffles with maple syrup like a child at an ice cream store and you comfortably top your plate with your favorite fruit. Yelena pours herself a black coffee and digs into the golden waffles dripping with syrup.

After breakfast, it would only be 2 hours drive to one of the most popular pumpkin patches in New York. The morning sun filtering through the trees, casting a warm glow over the landscape that Yelena looked over at while you drove. Her favorite Metallica playlist making her foot tap along with the beat, setting a slightly different tone as you drive carefully down the countryside roads. Autum leaves painted the open land in shades of gold, orange, and deep crimson and soon enough Yelena broke, asking you all kinds of questions about where this travel was taking her.

It was only a matter of time before a sign on the side of the road would give-away the surprise. “Aunt May’s pumpkin patch, 200 metres”, Yelena’s eye lit up as she looked over at you, “Please tell me we are turning in 200 metres!!” She said with excitement. You knew how much she loved American Christmases and had no doubt she would love the extra activities that came along with Halloween.

“Surprise!” You replied with a playful chuckle.

After parking, the two of you were instantly wrapped in the smell of fresh apples and spiced cider wafting from nearby stalls. In the heart of the patch, you stop to warm the insides of your bodies with hot chocolate before looking over at the paddock of vibrant orange pumpkins scattered across the field, each one a potential canvas for creativity.

Wrapped in cozy sweaters, hand in hand and sipping from the take-away cups, your cheeks flushed from the brisk air as Yelena looks over at you, admiring the sparkle in your eyes before she places a gentle kiss on your cheek, “thank you” she whispers.

“You’re welcome my love” you give her a smile before taking another sip of your hot coco. Yelena’s eyes scanned over everything she could see in sight, everything from a petting zoo to the pumpkin field to the carnival like games and ending with the small farmers market, she was amazed with just how big Aunt May’s Pumpkin Patch truly was.

“Where would you like to start?” You asked her, seeing the look in her eyes. She smiled as she looked at you, “shall we start with the farmers market?”

“Sure” you returned the smile.

The stalls were full of people selling all kinds of different goods, some hand-made crafts, some home-made sauces and pies and some selling products useful to those who are farmers. As you both strolled through the market, hand in hand, you stopped at a stall selling souvenirs for Aunt May’s pumpkin patch. Yelena couldn’t help but smile softly when you picked up a snow globe of the pumpkin patch, instead of little snowflakes, little autumn leaves danced around inside before landing on the globes floor.

Letting go of your hand, she reached for her phone, “how much are the snow globes?” She asked the saleswoman behind the table. “$15 each or 2 for $25” she smiled kindly. “We’ll take two please” Yelena replied, getting her Apple Pay ready as the woman packed two boxed snow globes into a plastic bag.

“Lena, you didn’t have to buy them” you said looking up at her as she smiled softly at you. “Ones for us and the other is for Nat” she said.

She placed the plastic bag around her wrist before taking your warm hand once more. At a nearby stall, you came across home-made candles, candles, their flickering flames promising warmth and comfort for the chilly evenings ahead. You and Yelena spent a few moments smelling each candle on offer before choosing a couple of autumn-scented candles and envisioning cozy nights in together, watching movies and eating mac n cheese.

After the farmers market, Yelena’s eyes were drawn to the crowd that began to take seats in front of the fenced off part of the pumpkin patch. A large sign advertising pig racing which had Yelena interested in the event. “Okay, I gotta watch this” she said before the two of you walked over and took a seat on one of the benches.

There were six pigs wearing colorful bandanas that you and Yelena took bets on. “I’m betting on the one with the little pumpkins on it!” You declared, pointing to the light pink pig wearing a black and orange bandana covered with patterned pumpkins. “Oh yeah? You think that pig is gonna win against that one?” Yelena replied, pointing at the pig with a skeleton printed bandana.

“I know it!” You reply, giving her a playful wink.

As the race begins, your enthusiastic cheers join delighted screams and laughter from the crowd. With every turn and squeal from the pigs, Your and Yelena can’t contain the delight, leaning into each other, your hearts racing alongside the little contestants as they charge toward the finish line.

The pig wearing the pumpkin patterned bandana speeds ahead, bypassing Yelena’s choice of pig as you jump up, squealing in victory as the little pig crosses the finish line. You embrace Yelena in a playful hug, teasing her that you knew your pig would win. The crowd applauded the activity while children jumped and cheered as they held onto the wooden fence.

Before you knew it, lunch time was just around the corner and to add to the growing surprises of Aunt May’s Pumpkin Patch, there was a restaurant on site with a café next door. You and Yelena opted for a meal rather than a corn dog from one of the food trucks that were by the entrance.

You and Yelena enjoyed a warm lunch together, Yelena shared her excitement for the next activity. She was set on playing a few of the carnival games before you would take her on the hayride around the pumpkin field to finish off the day before picking out a pumpkin each to carve at home. Her competitive side got the better of her as you both turned each game into a little contest between you both, Yelena winning by one extra game but although she took her win with pride, seeing your smile and hearing your laugh was the best prize she won.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the field of pumpkins as you and Yelena sit comfortably on a haybale, hand in hand on a wooden cart hooked to the back of a tractor. Rustic fairy lights, strung delicately across the railing of the wooden cart twinkle like stars as the tractor rumbles along the field.

Yelena gently rests her head on your shoulder, enjoying the experience. She’s sure to note that autumn is definitely on her list of favorite seasons. As the tractor pauses near a patch of giant pumpkins, you both hop off, eager to explore as you wander among the pumpkins, discussing which ones might be best to carve later. Wanting to remember this moment for years to come, you snap a photo of Yelena a few steps ahead of you, the sunsetting making for the perfect lighting.

The day comes to an end with you and Yelena lugging the biggest pumpkins you could find back to the car, placing them in the trunk before Yelena gently wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into her hold. “Thank you for the perfect day detka” she smiles softly before kissing you deeply and tenderly. You smile against her lips as time seems to stand still as you savor this peaceful moment in her arms, “you made it perfect, my love” you replied in a sweet tone.

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#fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #Yelena Belova x reader #flufftober

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cravetive · 11 months ago

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THE MESS WE LEAVE BEHIND

❈ Pairings: Namjoon x F!reader , Jimin x F!reader

❈ Genre/Au: M (18+);smut;Marriage Au;Namjoon x Jimin best friends! Cheating! Angst.

❈ Synopsis: Falling in love with your husband’s best friend was not at all how you imagined your life to go, and his return has you unraveling under the lies you’ve created to keep your family.

❈ Warnings: smut, dirty talk, thigh riding, foul language, mentions of cheating, fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex (don't do it), pregnancy, Namjoon is a angel from above, Angst, riding, Y/n is a mess, pet names ( baby) , Angst with no alleviation, spanking, orgasms , mentions of arousal, did i say angst?

❈ Word Count: 8.0 K sumthing brief

❈ Authors Note: I don't know how to feel about this, but I was compelled to write it so bone apple teeth Y'all! btw, i did not proofread this.

“As for the dog, he’s still riding that log” Namjoon read from the child book in his hand as he brushed his other hand through his daughter's hair. “What a crazy dog” Namjoon chuckled at his daughter but as he looked down, he noticed the now-sleeping child resting peacefully on his chest. He observed closely as his daughter snored softly, a smile rising to his face. Namjoon recalled the first time he had heard he was going to be a father, he remembered how nervous he had been, fear quickly consuming him and filling him with doubt.

He didn’t think himself capable or worthy of ever filling the role of a father but as soon as he saw her little face for the first time, he knew he didn’t want to be anything else but her dad.

Now she was 6 months old, and he couldn’t even understand why he had been so nervous in the first place. She was his entire world, and he was hers. Before her arrival, he looked for meaning in everything, trying to find something missing in himself but now, having his daughter asleep peacefully on his chest, he discovered it was all that he needed.

He carefully laid the book down and proceeded to softly move her into her crib, covering her with a blanket and leaving a sweet kiss on her forehead. He walked towards the door and held onto the light switch, looking at his sleeping child one last time before turning off the lights.

He took a deep breath and walked towards his kitchen, softly humming a lullaby to himself.

“You know, I think I'm going to open a daycare in the museum” he spoke as he stepped inside the kitchen. His wife giggled loudly from where she stood putting away the dishes. “a daycare? In the art museum?” she asked, a laugh pouring out afterward. He chuckled as he reached her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and planting a kiss on top of her head.

“I just think it will allow me to see Harumi more” he explains, leaning his chin on Y/n shoulder. He closes his eyes as he breathes in her scent. Finding comfort in the familiar smell of her Coco Channel perfume. “Namjoon, it’ll be hard for her to incorporate herself into her daycare if you keep this up” Y/n whines.

“Fine, but it's not easy for me” he replies, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“I can't imagine not seeing her chunky cheeks for 8 hours every day” he continues “It’ll be torture!” he chuckles.

“We have to go back to work eventually, Joon” Y/n responds.

“6 months is not enough time” he exhales, looking up at his wife.

“Joon, you are the best curator they have” Y/n voices “I know they have been in shambles since you left.”

“well, what about you? how do you think they have been doing without their top exhibit designer?” he mocks, a mischievous smile forming on his lips.

“oh god, please try to make this easier for me” she groans “If we are both reluctant to return to work, how will we feed her?” she asks, a giggle pouring along with it.

“Fine but I'm talking to the board of directors regarding this family leave thing, it should be way more than 6 months” he pouts whilst Y/n nods in agreement.

He reaches for her glass of wine and takes a gulp. “Hey!” she protests, slapping his arm playfully “That’s my wine.” “What do we say? Sharing is caring Y/n” he says, side-eying his wife. She rolls her eyes and turns on her feet, snatching the glass of wine from his hand.

“How was bedtime today? Did she give you trouble?” she asks, taking a drink from her glass.

“I gave her the dad special” he brags, wiggling his eyebrows which causes another laugh to fall from Y/n’s mouth. “I read her a bedtime story and she was out like a light” he smiles, recalling his daughter sound asleep in her room. Y/n joins his smile and leans into his chest, burying her cheek against it. He moves his arms around her, pushing her into him and swaying side to side.

“You know, I’ll miss this” he comments, looking down at her. She pushes herself slightly and looks up at Namjoon. She doesn’t speak, only admiring the man who towers over her, and she swears she has never felt more loved by someone in her entire life. “Me too” she hums, pushing herself on tiptoes and planting a warm kiss on his full lips.

“But as we promised, despite our busy schedules we will make a habit of coming home before 5 pm and making dinner” she reminds him, pulling away. He gives her his famous dimply smile and leans forward to plant another kiss on her lips.

“Do you think I can take her to the museum?” he insists, and Y/n laughs and shakes her head.

“Absolutely not, last time I let you take her Jin almost kidnapped that poor child” Y/n answers, giving him a disapproving glance. They both join in loud laughter that echoes inside the room. “In his defense, she is very cute,” Namjoon says with a fond look.

Once the laughter subsides, they stand in silence. Namjoon stares into Y/n’s admiring his wife. To this day he tokens himself as the luckiest man alive for being able to call her his, he loses himself in her eyes.

“You know I love you right?” he hums, brushing her hair back and giving her a small peck on her forehead.

Y/n giggles and moves away from Namjoon's embrace, setting her empty wine glass inside the sink.

She leans onto it for a moment, pressing her lips together. She ponders on the question she has wanted to ask for some time now but has been hesitant to. She looks over at her husband and observes as he types away calmly on his phone. “babe” she calls for him, he hums in response, but his attention remains on the screen.

“When will Jimin be back?” she asks, her voice a mere whisper almost as if she doesn’t want him to hear her ask.

He removes his eyes from the screen in front of him and looks over at his wife, a sigh leaves his lips. “Uhm, I'm not too sure really” he answers “He’s been touring all of Europe, he’s in Spain now actually” he notes which makes Y/n nod slowly. She diverts her eyes back to the sink where she has sat her wine glass, and she proceeds to pick it back up.

“More wine?” Namjoon asks, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Y/n offers him a cheeky smile and goes to grab the half-empty bottle of cabernet.

“Just a bit more” she giggles.

She pours herself another glass and hums when the burgundy liquid touches her lips.

“Alright, I'll head to bed now” Namjoon whispers, laying one more kiss on her wife's lips and disappearing through the door.

It is only when she hears their bedroom closing that she allows herself to unravel in tears. She grips onto the counter, attempting to not collapse on her knees.

It has been like this for months, even before she had Harumi and married Namjoon. She feels like she's walking on needles every day. The burden of the secret that she carries weighs her down, making it impossible for her to enjoy the life she has created for herself. She has wanted to come clean, has wanted to be brave enough to tell someone, anyone about what has been happening to her but she's unable. She isn’t capable of breaking Namjoon's heart.

She’s unwilling to take away from him that he has yearned for all this time.

So, she pretends. She contains all these feelings in her chest, and she carries on with her days as a happy wife and mother all while she collapses inside. She is a good person, an honest person. but somehow, she has found herself in this crippling situation. Withholding the truth from a man who deserves the world, crying herself numb when he leaves the room.

“I'll meet you at the entrance” Namjoon spoke excitedly, almost running through the halls of the museum. “Joon, please relax” Y/n giggles through the phone. “I want to help you with the stroller” he huffs, nearing the lobby of the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art. Being the persuasive man he was, Namjoon had been able to secure a daycare ward in the museum, making it possible for all employees to bring their children to work during their shifts.

“I don’t even want to know how you were able to get this done” Y/n speaks whilst Namjoon jogs towards his wife and daughter. He gives her a wide smile and raises his brows. “it's best you don’t know” he replies, reaching for Harumi and pulling her out of the stroller. He carries her in his arms and gives her a soft kiss on her plump cheeks.

“I’ve missed you, Haru” he sings into her little ears.

He looks back at Y/n who struggles with closing the stroller in her hands.

“All alright, come on let's switch” he chuckles, handing Harumi over to Y/n and beginning to close the stroller. “6 months and I still don’t know how that works” Y/n hisses. Namjoon laughs, looking back at his family. “it’s really simple, Yn” Namjoon advises. “Simple for you” Y/n retorts.

They join hands and begin to walk into the halls of the museum. “I have a meeting soon with one of the investors, but I should be done by 3 pm and then we can have lunch together” he informs Y/n. “Joon, I'm not sure I’ll be done by 3 pm, it's my first time walking into the office again” Y/n replies. Namjoon frowns and gives her a quick saddened glance.

“Fine, then I'll have lunch with Harumi” he then smiles, making a silly face at his daughter which causes her to gift him a gummy smile.

“I don’t know what I will do with you two” Y/n laughs.

“What else but love us” Namjoon responds, laying a quick peck on Y/n’s cheek.

“Hey Namjoon Hyung!” a voice calls, Namjoon looks up and his eyes widen.

“No way!” he almost yells. “Brooo you’re back!” he leaves Y/n’s side and jogs up to the man, embracing him in a tight hug.

“How was Spain?” he asks.

Jimin chuckles and nods his head “It was beautiful, I couldn’t get enough” he replies. “I can tell you have been gone for a year, we’ve missed you around here” Namjoon confesses, slapping his friend's shoulder softly.

Whilst engulfed in his conversation, Namjoon doesn’t notice the way Y/n tenses or the way that she tries to direct her eyes elsewhere but at the 2 men catching up in the hallway. She holds onto Harumi tightly, holding her breath. Her daughter coos up at her but she can't focus. instead, her eyes try to find the closest exit.

“Hey Y/n, guess whose back!” Namjoon cheers and she curses under her breath. She turns and her eyes grow panicked as the two men approach her. She wears her best fake smile and attempts to act natural. “I see, welcome back Jimin,” she says halfheartedly.

“Hey Y/n, nice to see you again” he answers. She shuts her eyes for a moment, begging for someone to stop the dumpster fire that’s about to occur. Y/n’s breath becomes labored the closer he gets; his voice sounds soft in contrast with the way Y/n’s heart beats Uncontrollably against her chest. She musters a small smile, blinking uncomfortably.

Jimin smirks, a taunting stare taking over his eyes as he takes her in for the first time in a year. Her skin appears to glisten under the dim lights around them, her cheeks becoming flushed at his sudden appearance. He looks her up and down, noticing the small changes she has gone through since the day he last saw her. This only makes Y/n grow uneasy as she notices the way he is unable to remove his eyes from her.

“Is this?” his eyes widen, noticing the child she holds in her arms. “Yeah bro, Harumi” Namjoon interjects, causing Y/n to jolt in place. “Wow, she’s huge” he rejoices, reaching forward to touch her small hand. “What is she? 6 months now?” he asks, his eyes looking into Y/n’s for confirmation.

She doesn’t say a word as their eyes collide, his stare provoking her to remain completely still. he gives her a smug smile and then looks back at Harumi. “Yes, can you believe it!” Namjoon says proudly from behind him. Jimin nods knowingly and glances back at Namjoon. “she’s gorgeous” he grins, sharing another look with Y/n. “I’m sure she gets it from her mother” he speaks, dragging his words.

“Oh, come on, give me some credit” Namjoon protests. “I'm sure I gave her some of my good genes.”

“Did you now?” Jimin taunts, his eyes remaining locked with Y/n’s.

“w-well, I have to go” Y/n interrupts, taking a step away from Jimin. He lets go of Harumi's hand and stands up straight, another smirk appearing on his lips. He notes the way Y/n nervously adjusts the strap of the baby bag around her shoulder and turns in the other direction.

“See you around!” He calls after her, lifting his hand and waving.

He remains there, even after Namjoon calls out his name. his eyes stay on the spot where Y/n stood only seconds ago holding her child. His smirk falls and he takes a deep breath before turning to face Namjoon again.

“Ready for the meeting?” Namjoon asks, pointing towards the other direction of the hall.

“Ready as I’ll ever be” Jimin responds, moving towards Namjoon.

“fuck” Y/n mutters as she steps into her office, she throws her purse onto one of the empty seats in front of her desk and runs her hands through her hair. “fuck” she repeats as she unbuttons her blouse and falls back onto her chair. She feels like the room is spinning and the suffocating feeling she has grown so accustomed to, returns. This was not the way she had pictured her first day back at all.

She is unraveling and she knows it. she buries her face into her hands and warm tears begin to pour down her cheeks. She doesn’t know what she has done to find herself in this predicament, but she isn’t brave enough to get herself out of it either. She looks back at a picture framed on her wall. It is a shared photograph between Namjoon, Jimin, and herself. They both look down at her with big smiles as she stares into the camera with a smile of her own.

Her eyes narrow as she slips her hand down to her mouth, covering the sobs that escape it.

| a year and 2 months ago |

“If you aren’t quiet, they will hear us” Jimin pants into Y/n’s ear.

But She's deaf to all reason, overcome with her own pleasure as she moves her clothed pussy against his thigh. Her dress has risen above her ass, soft moans pouring like symphonies past her lips. Her cunt pulsates as she continues grinding herself against him, Jimin’s hands travel to the top of her dress which he rips open causing her to hiss.

He skillfully undoes her bra, his eyes admiring her now-exposed breasts in complete awe. He licks up her chest onto her neck as she throws her head back in pleasure. “God, you are gorgeous” he compliments, bringing one of her nipples into his mouth. He laps his tongue over her sensitive nub while his other hand softly rubs against the other.

“Jimin” she pants, the sensation she is feeling is overwhelming, but she has no plans on stopping, the feeling of his hands and tongue alone giving her a high she never wanted to come down from. She feels Jimin’s hand wander down her body, stopping at her hips where he guides her movements.

“You like that baby?” he moaned breathlessly.

She can’t respond, small whimpers erupting from her mouth whilst she remains in complete euphoria. “You like the way it feels when you rub your hot wet cunt against my thigh, baby?” he purrs, earning another loud moan from Y/n. he smirks, his eyes focusing on her hooded eyes and plump lips. “You want more?” he hums, moving her hips a bit faster against him.

Jimin’s cock pulsates painfully against his pants, begging to be released. He moves forward, trying to find quick relief from the agony of the restraint. He wants to turn her out, to have her screaming his name repeatedly. it is all that he has ever wanted and having her here, dampening his pants as she fucks herself on his leg feels like a complete dream, he just wants to savor this exact moment. He wants to engrave this so deep into his memory that he is never capable of forgetting it.

Y/n slides her hand down to the front of his pants, getting hold of his hardened cock. She glides her hand smoothly, feeling his throbbing head through the fabric. Jimin moans loudly, gripping her waist tighter.

“shhhh” she mutters into his ear, planting a wet kiss below it.

He can feel her quicken her movements, seeking out her release. He captures her mouth into his, his tongue intruding past her lips and dancing against her tongue. His hand moves down to her ass, gripping her skin there.

“Nice and slow baby, I want to see you cum all over my lap” he breathes, pulling away from their kiss. Her scent brings out a certain animalistic surge from him as he watches her eagerness to satisfy herself. “Look at you leave all your juices on my pants, you naughty girl” he chuckles lowly.

“Jimin” she responds, her voice a mere whisper. She’s unable to concentrate as his words bring her closer to her orgasm, her hand moving up and down against his hardened member. His pants are drenched in her arousal, but Jimin adores it, he can't get enough of watching her and he can swear that this is his purpose, that he was brought onto this earth for this exact moment.

“You want to ride me, baby?” He hums, his hand holding onto her face which he brings closer to his, his other hand pushes back loose strands of her hair that have stuck themselves to the sweat forming on her forehead. She nods, eagerly. “Look at me” he commands. She breathes out, her mouth agape. She struggles to keep her eyes open as they look into Jimin’s in complete pleasure.

“Yeah, you want to ride me?” he asks again.

“I wanna ride you, Jimin” Y/n answers, whimpering as he lifts the leg which she straddles.

“How bad do you want it?” he purrs, his thumb pressing against her lips.

She takes his digit into her mouth and sucks, which causes Jimin to whimper painfully.

“Real bad” she moans out.

“Fuck, you look beautiful like this” he notes, his eyes narrowing on her. “I want to fuck you” he groans.

“Fuck me, Jimin” she begs and he almost cums from those words alone. Her voice is soft and raspy and it's enough to disconnect Jimin from all rationality. she’s unable to catch her breath, her hips buckling down on his thigh as his hands come down to grip her ass harshly.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long” he confesses, his eyes devouring her state. The way her breasts bounce with every one of her movements, her flushed cheeks, and clammy skin which glistens under the lamp above them.

“How long?” she asks, mustering a smirk on her lips.

“Since the day I met you,” he groans, going back to guide her hips against his lap.

“Steady baby, I'm not in a rush” he hums which brings her to slow down her movements. She feels her panties sticking to her soaking cunt, her hips rotating leisurely. He wanders his hand behind her head and takes a fist full of her hair, pulling back with little force.

He kisses down her throat and continues down to her breasts, he licks along them. giving each of her nipples his undivided attention.

“I'm Cumming, Jimin” she blurts, urgency in her voice.

“Are you?” he asks, teasing her.

“Y-yes” she whines.

“Hold it, baby, I want you to cum on my cock instead” he instructs her whilst pulling her off his thigh. She hisses at the absence of pressure between her legs but allows him to lead her. He remains in his seat, her wet-clothed pussy in front of his face now. She looks down at him, her mouth agape in anticipation of what he will do next.

He can feel his dick quivering as he takes in how engorged she had become. “Look at you baby, you’re drenched” Jimin announces. He runs his fingers against her clit, causing her to jolt towards his touch. He takes the digits away and puts them in his mouth, where he licks her arousal away.

He unbuckles his pants and pulls them down to his knees, Y/n drools at the sight of the imprint of his dick against his underwear. His cock appears painfully constricted and the tip oozes pre-cum which leaves a wet spot against the fabric.

“Come on, baby” he reaches for her waist, bringing her closer. “Be a good girl and come sit on my lap.”

Y/n does as told, lying face down over his lap, her ass in the air.

His hands rub softly against her ass cheeks, the motion causing her legs to squish together, giving friction to her pulsating cunt. She moans loudly, her hands holding onto his leg. Jimin dips his fingers in between her folds, moving them against her cunt. She can feel the blood flowing to her head. The combination of that and his touch, causing her to grow dizzy.

“Do you hear how wet you are for me?” he groans, the sound of her juices lathering his fingers echoing inside the small room. He inserts his pointer and index finger inside her and moans at how warm it feels.

He holds a quick pace, moving his fingers in and out and her pussy begins to cream over his fingers. Y/n yelps, unable to contain the burning feeling in the pit of her stomach. He can feel her wetness dripping onto his bare leg now, the scene in front of him enough for him to nut in that very moment but he holds himself together. He’s more than determined to cum into her pretty pussy and that’s exactly what he will do.

“Oh Jimin” she purrs, closing her eyes in pleasure.

“Wish it was my cock, right?” he asks, his free hand coming down hard against her left ass cheek, leaving a red imprint on the skin there.

“All you have to do is ask,” he says, his fingers moving at a slower pace now.

“Please Jimin” Y/n cries out.

“Please what beautiful?” he teases, licking his lips in admiration.

“Please fuck me Jimin” she begs.

“That sounds delicious coming from your mouth” Jimin coos, his dick continues to twitch against his underwear, and he can't hold out anymore. He wants to fuck her senseless, have her screaming his name at the top of her lungs.

“Come here” he mumbles, removing his fingers from her dripping cunt and guiding her off his lap. He notices how her legs shake while she refrains herself from Cumming. She's such a good girl for him and he wants to reward her.

He removes his boxers and his cock springs out, resting rock solid against his lower abdomen. She straddles him, bringing the head of his cock between her folds, her juices wetting the tip of his dick. He throws his head back in complete rapture. “Oh fuck, fuckk” he groans out. He can feel the heat emitting from her cunt and her arousal leaking down the rest of his shaft.

She moves her hips skillfully, rubbing herself against him. his hands fall onto her waist and his lips search for hers, moaning into her mouth as he slips inside of her smoothly. Her warm and sleek walls push him over the edge as he begins to pound up into her whilst she grinds down onto him.

“Just like that baby” he moans loudly “Just like that, don’t stop” Jimin voices, cheering her on. “Fuck It feels so good” he continues. He closes his eyes shut and hisses fall from his lips. Y/n feels so good, so tight and warm against his palpitating cock. He had been right all along, from the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she would rock his world and oh, how good was she doing it.

Her tight walls gripped his cock masterfully, his mouth falling open and his brows pushing together as he becomes immersed in complete lust. He never wanted to leave, never wanted to pull out. Soon the sound of their skin slapping together filled the room along with their whimpers and moans that created a melody he never wanted to stop hearing.

He buried his face into her chest, unable to withhold himself from fucking into her hard and fast. Their sweat-clad bodies moving in unison, Y/n embraces him as he rests his hands on her back.

“You feel so good, Jimin” Y/n yelps, his thick cock pushing against her walls. Jimin bites down on his lip, pounding into her uncontrollably. “Fuck uh,” he groans, losing himself in the sensation. He doesn’t care how loud they are or who is listening from the other side of the door. All he cares about is how good her hair smells and about the way she grips his shoulders as she fucks herself on his dick. The sound of her soft moans and the feel of her clammy skin against his becoming his favorite things.

He continues to drill into her, her small whimpers turning into full-blown screams, and he smiles in satisfaction, knowing that he’s the one causing them. Y/n’s legs ache at the tempo, almost collapsing against him. She buries her nails into the skin of his shoulders.

“Jimin, oh Jimin I can’t” she calls out like a prayer.

“Take It, baby, don’t stop now, take all this dick” Jimin growls. his hands gripping onto her waist tightly, Keeping her still as he moves his cock up into her dripping core. He can feel the familiar tingling in the pit of his stomach and he knows he's going to cum soon but that only makes him pick up his pace. He looks up at Y/n, her eyes shut as she throws her head back.

“Jimin, shit I can’t” she yelps, moments later he feels her walls contract around him, and her body spasms as she becomes undone on his dick. Her vision blurs and there's a faint ringing in her ears, her mouth falling open as her orgasm blocks all her senses.

“so fucking sexy” he moans out, admiring how vulnerable she looks under the dimmed light.

His movements begin to falter, unable to hold back anymore. Her walls are still tight around him, urging him to cum into her throbbing cunt. His breath becomes uneven, and he digs his fingers into the skin of her thighs around him trying to keep some of his control but it's too late, he thrusts into her one last time before hot strings of cum shoot into her. Y/n moans at the feeling of his milk filling her up and her legs tremble as both their orgasms leak down her inner thighs.

There's silence as they both struggle to catch their breaths; she looks down at him and it is only then that realization hits her. Her lips tremble and she begins to move away, trying to cover herself with what remains of her torn dress.

Jimin sits up quickly, watching her closely.

“Hey Y/n” he calls out to her softly.

She turns away from him, warm tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What have we done, Jimin” she cries.

Y/n would be lying if she said it was the last time that it happened, that she didn’t become a skilled liar in order to receive the pleasure only Jimin was able to bring to her. She would kiss her boyfriend goodbye under the pretense of work meetings, girl night outs, and a busy schedule all whilst sneaking away to any dark corner available with his best friend. It was wrong and she knew it but that didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was the way Jimin made her shudder under his touch. He knew her body like it was the back of his hand, and she was addicted.

Now she was condemned to carry this guilt everywhere. The better Namjoon treated her, the heavier it became. She wasn’t capable of ruining what she had built, even if the foundation was shaky. She had a home and a family, and she was happy.

But Jimin’s return threatened it all, threatened everything she had, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that it scared her.

Perhaps, the pleasure she sought was never worth the pain it would cause.

There’s a light knock on her door which causes Y/n to quickly wipe her tears away, she runs her hands through her hair, and buttons up the blouse she wears. “Come in” she instructs, attempting to gather herself before the door opens.

But once it does and she sees who is stepping through it, Y/n regrets the words that have just left her lips. Her heart drops to her gut and she stares wide-eyed as Jimin closes the door behind him.

“Hey,” he says calmly.

Y/n shuts her eyes, throwing her head back in frustration.

“Listen, Jimin I don’t have time right now” she utters, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease the pounding headache she now has. He blinks, narrowing his eyes as he takes in her disarranged appearance.

“Are you okay?” he asks, quickly moving towards her desk.

She removes her hands against her temple and holds them up in the air.

“don’t, I'm fine” she mumbles.

“you don’t look fine to me” he states. Y/n lifts her head and looks over at him, her gaze holding a certain enmity. “why did you even come here?” her lips tremble as she asks, her eyes filling with tears that she blinks away, aiming to appear okay. “I wanted to come see you, to check up on you” he answers, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“no” she replies, closing her eyes for a moment and then opening them just as fast. “why did you come back here, why didn’t you stay in Europe” she clarifies. He lowers his gaze and steps away from her desk. “I had to return Y/n, my entire life is here” he answers.

She admits it's true, she knows that his return was inevitable but to say she was prepared for it would be a joke. She thought she would have more time to get her affairs in order or to at least grow some balls and own up to the things she had done.

Namjoon loved her and of that she was sure, but he didn’t know her, not all of her at least.

“I didn’t come here to cause you any trouble, Y/n” Jimin assures her, holding her gaze. He feels his heart ache whilst noticing the way she has become undone in the time he has been gone. If perhaps he hadn’t run like a coward, leaving her to carry their secrets all on her own, she would be less subdued.

But hearing her say she wasn’t able to continue with their affair a year ago had proven to be too much for him to bear because even if he couldn’t tell her he loved her, at least he was giving her a bit of himself in those sheets. Being told he could no longer have access to her, that he couldn’t hold her like he only ever yearned to, well it had hurt him beyond comprehension.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jimin” she sobbed, covering her face in shame. “But I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth either.”

He wanted to reach over and console her, but he doubted that it was something she wanted. she had made that very clear the day before he had booked the first ticket out of South Korea.

“Jimin, we need to stop, I can’t see you anymore” she sobbed. “What we are doing, it's fucked up.”

The memory of that conversation replayed in Jimin’s mind as he stood in silence. It tormented him in the night when he tried to sleep. Pain and guilt tearing him to pieces. He didn’t know what was more fucked up, the fact that he betrayed the man that was like a brother to him or the fact that he never felt bad for it. in his mind, she was worth that and much more. for her, he was willing to betray even himself.

“Which truths are you hesitant to tell?” he asks.

Y/n uncovers her face, her glassy red eyes staring back at him with confusion.

“What do you mean?” she sniffs, rapidly cleaning her tears with the sleeve of her blouse.

“Well, which truth can’t you tell him” He repeats.

“That you and his best friend went behind his back and had sex for an entire 3 months or that Harumi is my daughter?” He leans his head to the side, tears streaming down his cheeks now.

“Because both truths are going to destroy his life” he states, a sob escaping his lips.

Y/n is at a loss for words, her throat becoming dry. She can only stare at him whilst growing mortified. Indeed, she had become a professional at harboring secrets. Once she had begun lying to Namjoon, the lies quickly began piling up, leading her to a point of no return.

“H-how did you know?” she musters to say, her eyes widened in panic. He looks away, his eyes falling on the framed picture of Y/n and Namjoon on their wedding day. “She has my eyes” he whispers.

Y/n follows his eyes, her chest tightens at the image on the wall and more sobs escape her. she’s unable to contain herself and she knows she’s fucked up. She never meant for this to happen. She was happy with Namjoon until one day she just wasn’t and Jimin was there, to help her with all her grievances.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, he’s in agony and Y/n can see that. She remains motionless as the truth begins to unravel in front of her eyes. She feels relief and immense pain all at the same time, so she stays silent, conflicted with her emotions.

“I’ve missed so much” he states. He reaches over to her desk and picks up a picture of Harumi. He admires his child, tracing his fingers over her gummy smile. The woman who sits in front of him has taken something from him, has hidden the most precious thing away. Yet, he can’t bring himself to hate her. instead, he understands. From within his anger and resentment, he digs out his compassion.

“He’s a good dad, Jimin” she cries out. He lifts his stare towards her, sorrow flashing through his eyes.

“I could’ve been a good father too, Y/n” he affirms.

“I know Jimin, I'm sorry” she weeps, she stands up from her chair and approaches him but Jimin backs away, holding the picture of his daughter to his chest. “Please Jimin, I just couldn’t just throw away everything that I had” Y/n attempted to justify.

“you left and I-“she began. “No!” Jimin shouts “No you pushed me away!” he shakes his head, frustration seeping through his mind.

“What we were doing was wrong and I had to put an end to it” she yells back. “Please, try to understand” Y/n tries to catch her breath as the sobs that rip through her leave her shaking in anguish.

“How wrong could it have been when this came out of it?” he asks, holding up the picture of Harumi. Y/n stares at it, her lips pressing together. He leans in closer to her, his hand lifting her chin so that her eyes could meet his.

“How could it have been wrong when we loved each other?” he asks, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Jimin, he's your best friend” she whimpers, closing her eyes in an attempt to ignore the pain that she sees in his eyes which only causes her further torment.

“Either you tell him, or I will, but I'm not missing out on my daughter’s life on account of your happiness” he whispers, he leans back and leaves the room, taking the picture of his daughter with him.

Y/n collapses onto the floor, becoming a heaving mess. “I'm a good person” she bawls onto the floor as she holds onto her aching chest “I'm a good person” she repeats to herself.

Yn drags her feet across her front door, shutting the door quietly as she enters. She drops her work bag on the floor and slips her heels off. She’s met with the sweet aroma of baby lotion and baby wipes, and for the first time since the day began, she smiles. She glances over to her living room, taking in the TV that plays Harumi’s favorite show and her teething toys that are sprawled around the couches. She lingers on the pictures that hang on the wall; she can’t help but admire her happy family as tears begin to sting her eyes.

She takes a moment to look around, to try to engrave this sight into her mind because soon she will be destroying all of it. her heart pulls while she watches Namjoon appear from the hallway, holding her daughter in his arms. “Long day, my love?” he asks, approaching her with a full smile. She hums unable to form any words at all.

The knot that forms in her throat is painful and as she swallows, she realizes it doesn’t budge.

“Uff, yeah very long day” Namjoon jokes taking in her glassy eyes and messy hair. He embraces her with one arm, holding Harumi with the other. “Have you been drinking?” he chuckles. She nods absent-mindedly looking up at the man of her dreams. “Yes, the girls wanted to go out and celebrate my return” she lies again. Namjoon smiles “Good, it’s been a while since you went out with your colleagues for a few drinks,” he says, kissing the top of her head.

Her chest aches at his words, bringing back the memories of the lies she had spoken to him in the past. she is reminded that she could live a thousand lives and she would still never deserve a man like Namjoon.

“You think you can put Harumi down for a bit? We need to talk” she sighs, unable to withhold much longer. He furrows his brows in concern, noticing how Y/n shifts in place.

“y-yeah sure, babe” he walks towards the living room and sits Harumi in her booster seat, passing her one of her toys. He groans as he stands up and approaches his wife.

“Can you give me a massage after this?” he requests, rubbing his back.

Y/n looks up at her husband and nods slowly, sure that after the conversation they will have he will want her to be as far away from him as possible. They walk together into the kitchen and Namjoon notices the uneasiness that pours from Y/n’s aura. He frowns, worried that something bad has happened.

“Okay my love, what’s going on I'm getting a bit worried here” he warns, following behind her as she stops in front of their dining room. She turns to face him, and tears are already pouring down her cheeks. Namjoon panics, taken aback by the sight before him.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He scans her face and reaches forward to try to hold her, but Y/n holds up her hand which stops his movement.

“Please, just let me speak” She shakes in place, her mind wanders endlessly on how to approach the truth, she tries to find a way in which she can break his heart painlessly, but she knows it's impossible. Once she delivers him the truth, she knows everything will be over, but reflecting on the ultimatum Jimin offered her a few days ago, she can't let him find out through anyone else.

“I uhm I’ve been lying to you” she mutters which only gains her a puzzled look from her husband. He takes a step towards her, wanting to stop her tears. Namjoon has never liked to see her cry and seeing her like this only brings him discomfort.

“What are you talking about, Y/n” he tries to reach for her once again but Y/n steps back, shaking her head. “Please, Namjoon” she implores, trying to distance herself from the man she knows loves her.

“Please let me just explain” she continues, he nods but his heart aches. He wants to bring her into his chest and whisper words he knows will soothe her. He has never seen her like this before, she has always been happy by his side and in this moment all he wants to do is protect her.

“About a year and a half ago while you were away in France, Jimin and I met up in my old apartment” Y/n swallows as she looks at her husband, Namjoon nods still holding a puzzled expression. “Initially it was just to hang out because we both missed you and we thought that since we were both alone then it would be okay for us to keep each other company.”

“Okay babe, there's nothing wrong with that,” Namjoon says, a smile appearing on his lips. “you guys can be friends too, I trust you” he continues, taking a step closer towards Y/n. She shakes her head and looks down; she can feel Namjoon’s arms wrap around her.

“Why are you crying, Y/n?” he asks, reaching for her face which he brings up to look at. His brows are furrowed, and he doesn’t understand why she's making such a huge deal out of something so small. He knows his wife and he knows her heart.

“Jimin and I slept together” she trembles, pushing back on his chest.

Namjoon leans his head to the side in confusion, he blinks looking down at her, but his arms stay around her, unable to move from where he stands.

“And not just that night, we slept together for 3 whole months” she continues to confess.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice beginning to grow shaky.

“And Harumi” she begins but cuts herself off as the knot in her throat begins to choke her. She feels the room spin around her and she is trying to hold herself together but she's shaking, and her heart is pounding painfully in her chest.

“And Harumi isn’t my daughter” he finishes her sentence, looking down at her with such compassion that she feels like throwing up. She stares up at him wide-eyed, unable to register the words that he has just spoken. “I know” he whispers, nodding his head. “I've always known” he finishes, he reaches for her cheeks, wiping the tears that slip down them and he presses a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n is shocked, blinking quickly as she comes to terms with what he means, she leans back staring at him in complete disbelief. “w-what?” she asks, he holds no reaction or hatred in his eyes as he looks at her and that only makes her guilt grow. “What do you mean?” She studies him, unable to understand why he isn’t shouting or berating her.

“From the moment I saw her I knew she wasn’t mine, Y/n,” he says, his tone calm and he stares at her in complete adoration. “But I love you and I love Harumi and I wanted this to work,” Namjoon says.

“Why would you do something like that, Joon” she hisses. She shoves him away and steps back, distaste in her expression.

“I don’t care that she's not mine, I've raised her” he answers, attempting to hold onto Y/n again but she pushes his hands away as tears continue to flow past her cheeks. “I’ve been holding this secret for so long Namjoon” she sobs “And you’ve known this entire time?” she asks, fury burning through her at the revelation.

“Since when do you know? Since when!” she shouts. Namjoon flinches and his eyes fill up with tears. If she has been harboring this secret, then he has been harboring some of his own. The moment he laid eyes on the child he knew that she didn’t belong to him but he had to make this work, he wasn’t going to lose the love of his life, he’d rather die than let that happen.

“I didn’t know Jimin was the father” he tries to step to her but Y/n moves, the expression on her face only breaking his heart further. “But I was sure I wasn’t” he contemplates, recalling the day he first held Harumi in his arms.

“let's just forget about all of this please” he begs, and he begins to cry. He is desperate and he just wants this conversation to end, He is reluctant to admit that their relationship might be coming to an end, he can't imagine a life where Y/n isn’t by his side and that breaks his heart more than any truth she has concealed from him.

“No, I'm tired of not facing reality” she responds “Of hiding so many things, Jimin and I are to be held accountable” she continues to shout. “Why? Because you think that will help you feel less guilty for what you’ve done?” he asks.

Y/n goes silent, she now notices the tears that spill down his face. She looks away, unable to hold his gaze because he’s right, the fact that he knew all this time was not the problem. She needed him to be angry so that in some way she could feel better about all of this.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Y/n” he whispers.

“I don’t want you to forgive me Namjoon,” she says “I want you to be angry, to be resentful” because only then could she stop feeling so fucked up, only then can she free herself of the fact that she fucked over a good person. A person who even now can keep empathy in his heart, one that she never had whilst she slept with his best friend.

Namjoon was being merciful, and she couldn’t bring herself to understand why.

“I can’t be angry at you Y/n, not when I love you and if forgiving you means that I get to keep my family then that’s exactly what I will do” Namjoon fights back but he doesn’t realize that there’s nothing left for him to grasp.

“I'm in love with Jimin,” she says, and it is only then that his composure falters. He sighs and looks away.

“No, you don’t” he declares, his eyes hold anger, but he is unable to direct them at her.

“don’t say that” he continues, he feels his heart shatter and the truth finally consumes him. He can’t admit to himself that the woman who stands destroyed in front of him will never be his. That even whilst she lay on his bed every night, her heart belonged to someone else.

“Joon, I'm sorry” Y/n voices, he glances back at her, and Y/n lets out a sob. She’s aware of the way she has broken down the man whose only intention was to love her, and she feels herself crumble under the culpability of the mess she has made.

“I know” he mutters.

should i turn this into 2 parts? please let me know

i might just leave it like that

hope you guys enjoyedd!

#jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin au #park jimin #jimin bts #jimin fic #namjoon x re #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon series #namjoon fic #kim namjoon #bts angst #bts smut #bts au fanfic #bts x reader

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radiostatik · 5 months ago

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Coco and Apple as Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn!!

#helluva boss #coco #apple #coco x apple #apple x coco #verosikas crew #apology tour #mypost

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thelordz · 5 months ago

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So the last poll results were to do a Canon couple so I thought I could make another poll since I can't decide which couple. (Besides from moxxie and millie I've done them)

I'm also working on a komi can't communicate animation which will be exciting, I hope I don't mess it up, I haven't animated in years.

#hellaverse #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #staticmoth #cherrisnake #chaggie #chazwick thurman #helluva boss moxxie #helluva boss ship #huskerdusk #fizzmodeus #josh x ace #coco x apple #fizzarolli x asmodeus

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flower-boi16 · 6 months ago

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as a trans person, im pretty baffled by how hh/hb are called good shows queer representation-wise when gender is barely explored at ALL. the only trans character in both shows (afaik) is millies sister whose name i already forgot and who appears in one episode for 5-10 seconds and then in another short that vivz didn't even write. but gender-wise, all the characters are either male or female, which puzzles me so much because there are so many different species in this version of hell (imps, hellhounds, etc) and you're telling me ALL of them are binary and (seemingly) reproduce sexually??? that's not queer, as well as not creative at all

tldr hh/hb is awful when it comes to gender. both shows are as white and "lgb" as they can be

Hazbin and Helluva's queer representation is actually like. Really fucking bad. We have...

Chaz (Bi), a one-dimensional asshole who constantly makes unfunny sex jokes who abandoned Moxxie, his boyfriend, and st. boyfriend went on to date & marry a women (not a great look)

Chaggie (Sapphic), an boring ass and underdeveloped reletionship where one of them purely revolves around the other with no development beyond that. Also the reletionship is severly co-dependant.

Stolas (Gay), a horny asshole who forces someone into having sex with him for his own pleasure, cheated on his wife & frequently neglects his daughter, yet the narrative constantly UwUifs and coddles him for his mistakes.

Stolitz (Gay), a horrendously poorly written & toxic reletionship that the show constantly pretends isn't toxic.

Vaggie (Gay), a character with little to no real depth beyond their reletionship with her girlfriend.

Valentino (Pan), another one-dimensional asshole who SA's Angel Dust.

Pentious (Bi), frequently used as a punching bag in the show (like being SA'd in episode 6 and it's played for laughs) and he was confirmed to be bisexual in a live stream.

Travis (Bi), a very minor character that gets 0.5 seconds of screen time. Also was confirmed to BI in an AMA.

Vox x Valentino (Gay), a reletionship between two antagonists that is also shown to be heavily over-sexualized

Burnie Bunz (Gay), a minor character who is an obsessive stalker who gets killed off in the episode he's introduced in.

Sallie May (Trans), gender was confirmed on twitter and she's a minor character with very little screen-time.

Charlie (Bi), a pretty poorly written protagonist with little development or growth.

Apple and Coco (Gay), side characters with litteraly 0 lines and the only way to even tell if their dating is by going on the model sheets.

Vox (Pan), extremely hypersexual when it comes to his reletionship with Valentino.

Alastor (Aroace), his sexuality was also confirmed in a live-stream and it gets only one small mention in the show.

Moxxie (Bi), frequently used as a punching bag within the show and goes through the same repeated arc.

Litteraly the only decent LGBT characters are Blitz, Angel Dust, Husk, Ozzie and Fizz. Aside from those six, everything else is straight trash in terms of representation lmao.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel criticism #helluva boss criticism #anti stolitz

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hazbin-a-helluvamagines · 6 months ago

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Hey, can you do Emily, Charlie, and Verosika mayday x male!reader who was abused to death by his step father (reader is 20), reader is traumatized and depressed and is scared of men’s?

"Androphobia" ; Charlie Morningstar, Emily, Verosika Mayday

She feels utterly horrible hearing about the way you died! She has such a loving relationship with her dad, at least now, she hates the thought of someone going through something like that from someone who was meant to protect and care for them!

She's one of the most understanding of depression and trauma, but kind of a pushover about it, actually?

She'll try and reacclimate you to men starting with Angel, someone fairly androgynous, and Lucifer, seeing how generally polite and timid Luci usually is.

But she makes sure to always tell you that she'll be patient!

"Don't worry, S/O, if you're not okay yet! Sometimes, it's okay not to be okay... You have to feel it to let it run its course."

She'll let you hide behind her if you're ever frightened of the men around, too. After all, who would mess with the Princess of Hell's boyfriend?

She also puts this really intricate and overexplained sign on the door that tells people: "If you're a male or masc-presenting, please do not enter this room because this resident has trauma".

She'll take it down if you ask, though.

Like Charlie, Emily is utterly horrified. But unlike Charlie, she's also disgusted. Disgusted that someone you were meant to depend on could treat you like that!

She's quick to, if that person is deceased, either find them and punish them personally, or have Sera cast them down to Hell.

Yet again, super understanding of trauma and everything! Will have an entire discussion with you over boundaries, discomforts and triggers, things that make you feel comfortable after you've been triggered, etc.!

And she won't try to "make" you heal, she understands that these things take time, and with enough time, you'll start to heal all on your own...

She'll also use her wings to shield you from any men who may approach, but still be polite to the person if they weren't trying to be malicious.

"Hiya! Oh, my boyfriend? Don't mind him, he's just a little frightened. And speaking of which, I'd appreciate if you'd be able to turn around and maybe come back later when he isn't around so you don't scare him more! Please and thank you."

Speaking of, she'll also let you mess with her wings whenever you're getting anxious, trying to keep you distracted.

She's also going to politely tell anyone who makes you uncomfortable to back off, and won't honestly get more angry unless they refuse to back off. She hates anyone making someone uncomfortable, but especially you.

And she's also probably the most patient person in the world.

"Don't worry, S/O! Take all the time you need. Eden wasn't built in a day, you know? And I'll be here every step of the way. You can count on that."

Marry her.

She is... an utter bitch to literally everyone who makes you even the smallest amount of uncomfortable, even unintentionally.

"Excuse me? Who said you were wanted here? Can't you see there's someone infinitely more important to spend time with?"

I'd honestly be surprised if she doesn't make someone cry doing that.

She'll also make sure to give you special seats with either all-women, or by yourself at all of her events and concerts, just so she doesn't risk you having a panic attack while she isn't there to help you.

She'll try to acclimate you with the men of her crew, but aside from that, she doesn't really mind if you want to get along with other men or not.

She's also one who's surprisingly attentive to depression, always making sure you take your meds if you need them, managing you with a proper diet, and trying to help you sleep at times.

Whenever you have to go anywhere in public, she'll either go with you or have Coco, Milky, Apple, or Kiki go with you.

Like Emily, she'll shield you with her wings if she sees a man approach when she's out with you, that way you don't have to interact with them.

And if they comment on it?

"Why's your boyfriend hiding behind his bitch?"

"Why are you still a virgin living in your mom's basement at forty-five?"

Yeah...

Well, at least she cares. :')

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7-wonders · 7 months ago

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Requiem

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XVI)

Summary: It's all led to this, and now, you have to face off against Michael to get your world back.

Word Count: 6.3k

A note from the author: This chapter is so, so dark. Sorry? Also, this chapter relies a lot on the she/her pronouns this story was first started with btw. (more notes at the end)

I noticed when posting this that it looks like the previous chapter didn't load a lot of tags. If you got tagged in this and are like "wait how did we get to the fight already?" you missed the last chapter! Click on the Mad Love Masterlist to read Chapter 35. :)

Content warnings for this chapter include graphic depictions of injury and death. Reader discretion is advised.

Mad Love Masterlist

Mallory warned you prior to leaving your room that the residents of Outpost 3 were all dead, murdered at the hands of Ms. Venable and her poisoned apples (you try not to dwell on your own poisoned apple experience). All the preparation in the world doesn’t prepare you for the shock of seeing two dead bodies, those of Coco and Dinah, in the large foyer of the Outpost. Shock turns to revulsion as one of Mallory’s friends and other witches yanks a knife out of Coco’s skull with little more than a wince. When she stands, she points the knife at you.

“She gonna help us?” she asks warily.

“She is.” Mallory turns to you, pointing first to the woman with the knife and next to another woman standing near the stairs. “This is Queenie and Zoe.”

You wave sheepishly. “It’s nice to meet you two.”

Zoe smiles kindly, but Queenie just appraises you with a look that says she doesn’t trust you. You can’t say that you blame her, though you wish she didn’t have a reason for this reaction. Mallory leaves your side to kneel in between the two dead women, and you watch as she takes a deep breath and breathes out onto Coco’s face before repeating her movements with Dinah.

It takes mere seconds for the two to shoot up, gasping for air and trying to get used to once again inhabiting a body.

“Welcome back,” Mallory says.

“What just happened?” Coco asks, her elaborate hairdo impressively staying put after all of that.

“You died. And now, you’re no longer dead.”

“Oh.” She frowns, rubbing at the spot where a knife sat moments ago. “Fuck, that sucked.”

“Are you going to explain why you tore us from our afterlives?” Dinah snaps, standing up.

“It’s time to fix this entire mess. To defeat Michael, we need all the help we can get.” Mallory eyes Dinah specifically. “From both of you.”

“You’re on your own with that shit,” Dinah declares. “I’m not here to defeat anyone.”

Maybe it’s not your place, but you feel like you can help to convince Dinah. You take a step toward here. “Please, I really think that—”

“How can any of you defeat me, when I’ve already won?” A voice, so familiar to you that it could be your own, comes from the stairs.

You almost don’t want to look at him. If you don’t, maybe you can remain in this stasis where you’re simply preparing to undo the apocalypse, instead of being faced with the reality that you’re about to fight your own husband, the man who, despite all of the horrors he’s committed, remains your love. When you do tear your eyes away from Dinah, you see that he’s not even taking notice of your presence. No, he only has hate-filled eyes for the Supreme.

Michael’s changed into a blood-red jacket, which makes it obvious that he was expecting this showdown to happen. Ms. Mead stands off to his left side, ever the small, imposing bodyguard. Mallory steps forward, along with most of the group. You can’t bring your feet to move, so you remain back with Dinah.

“You haven’t won,” Mallory says.

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the state of the world.”

Queenie scoffs. “At least the world can be saved. Unlike your bitch ass.”

Michael smirks proudly. “The seventh seal has been broken. Wormwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity. The world has been remade in my father’s image.”

When he speaks like this, of biblical imagery and prophecy, he turns into a person you don’t care to know. He turns into the Antichrist.

“Almost.” Mallory smiles. “Pretty sure he didn’t imagine a world where there were still witches, so you failed there.”

Michael finally takes in the full group, and his haughty demeanor falters when he sees you. Softly, he utters your name. “What are you doing?”

You swallow thickly, willing your voice not to shake. “I think you know.”

“I do. You’re going to betray me?

Mallory tries to grab your arm as you move in front of her, but you can’t be stopped now. “This is not betrayal. I’m doing this because I love you, and I can’t bear to be faced with the monster that you’ve become any longer. Now, we have a chance to save the world, Michael. Help me undo this mess.”

“Michael,” Mallory gets his attention once more. “Your father never commanded you to end the world in this way. Jeff and Mutt, the two that ran Kineros, were the ones who thought a nuclear apocalypse was the solution. They controlled Ms. Mead and gave her the commands to tell you that this was Satan’s plan. Satan was just happy to take credit when he realized that you were going to cause anarchy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Michael says.

“Is it? They told me so themselves, when I went to Kineros to ensure that Coco would be in this Outpost.”

He rolls his eyes. “This is such an obvious lie, I’m a little offended that you would think I’d fall for it. Right, Ms. Mead?”

Michael looks to his left, expecting to be backed up, only to see Ms. Mead with a look of bewildered shame on her face.

“Ms. Mead?”

“They—I do as I’m programmed,” she stutters.

You gasp at the revelation. Satan didn’t come up with the plan to end the world like this? All of this could have been avoided?

Instead of being faced with the same reckoning, a look of absolute murder appears on his face. “I’m going to do what I should have done that day in the Murder House and kill you all personally.”

“Mallory,” Dinah calls, walking towards the Supreme. “You raised me from the dead so that you would have the power of voodoo on your side. But if you know anything about who I am, you know that the only choice I’d pick would be the winner.”

She comes to a stop just before the stairs, bowing her head respectfully. Michael raises a hand out to her, ready to welcome another acolyte. You throw Mallory a panicked look, but she’s barely holding back glee.

“You’re half-right, Dinah,” she admits.

“She needed the help of a powerful voodoo queen,” a deep Southern voice says. You turn and watch as a tall woman with long braids struts up to Dinah. “But that ain’t you, sis .”

“The former Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau,” Mallory whispers into your ear.

“To release me from hell, Mallory promised Papa Legba the darkest and most corrupt voodoo queen’s soul for mine. You’ll serve him well in my place.”

“You’re a fool, Marie Laveau,” Dinah spits. “You would have done no different if you were queen.”

“No!” Marie says, before disappearing in a puff.

Not even a second later, she reappears behind Dinah wielding a machete. When Dinah turns to face her, Marie brings the machete down in one swing on her throat. Dinah gasps and screams as blood begins to gush out of her neck, falling to the floor and bleeding out in a matter of seconds. Nobody else seems to be affected by this, but you feel a little faint, and you hold onto Mallory’s arm to keep from collapsing.

“Out with the trash!” Marie declares. “Give Papa my regards.”

Michael, apparently having enough of this, nods to Ms. Mead. The android removes her hand to reveal a machine gun hidden underneath it. Though you want to say something along the lines of, “What the actual fuck?” Zoe says a word in what you assume to be Latin before you can.

Instead of shooting, Ms. Mead begins to shake and whir mechanically. Mallory uses Michael’s confusion to usher everybody back towards the open fire, where you watch as Ms. Mead explodes and sends Michael flying over the railing. He lands harshly on the floor below, staring in horror at Ms. Mead’s head next to him.

It’s only a matter of time until his horror turns to rage, and Queenie scrambles forward to grab Ms. Mead’s machine gun hand. When Michael rises, she rises with him, gun trained on his chest.

“Sorry about your little toy,” Queenie says before placing her finger on the trigger.

Michael turns to be met with a firestorm of bullets, more than enough to kill even the Antichrist. You scream in horror at the sight, his blood spattering against the wall as he falls and comes to rest against it, very obviously dead.

“Michael!” You try to stand, wanting to save him even though he probably (definitely) deserves what’s just happened to him. Before you can, Mallory pulls you to her.

“This won’t keep him down,” she assures you. “He’s too powerful to be truly killed. But this will buy us time.”

Though you don’t know if you believe her, you need to in order to keep from emotionally collapsing, so you nod.

Queenie walks to Michael’s body, kicking his foot as she checks to make sure he’s dead…for now, at least. “Do we need his hair or something for this? Because I’m more than happy to rip off a chunk of it.”

“No. The spell only requires that we have something personal of his.” Mallory smiles at you. “And we have the most important person in his life here with us. As long as you’re still in?”

You force yourself to look away from Michael, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths to recenter yourself. Finally, you look at her again. “Of course, I’m still in.”

“Good. Have you picked a time that will work to stop him?”

“I think so,” you confirm. After some internal deliberation, you think that the best way to get through to him is going to be when you had the big fight about the poisoned apple, before you stormed out and got yourself kidnapped by the witches. He wasn’t too powerful or too far gone with his father’s plan yet, but you were both in love with each other—albeit, you hadn’t actually realized it at that point.

“Alright. I’ll need you to focus on that, okay? Then I’ll say the spell, and we’ll be able to go back in time. We just need somewhere safe to cast the spell, somewhere with a large tub we can fill with water.”

You definitely found a room like that when you were exploring the Outpost your first couple of days here. “Okay. Follow me.”

Everybody stands, but hesitates when they remember the issue of Michael. If he’s going to come back to life like Mallory says, shouldn’t there be some safety measure in place to buy you more time?

Queenie sighs and rolls her eyes, realizing that she should probably be that safety measure. “Go,” she urges, readjusting her grip on the gun to ensure she’ll be quick to the trigger when Michael rises again.

Mallory darts forward to hug her quickly. “Thank you.”

“Enough with the sappy shit.” Even as she says that, you can see the affection in her eyes when she looks at Mallory. “Go!”

You do as she says and hurry up the stairs. Before you turn the corner, you allow yourself a moment to meet Michael’s open, lifeless gaze.

The hallways are much less of a maze than they were when you first arrived here, but the layout is still unfamiliar to you. After leading your group down what you thought was going to lead to the door you were sure contained the room with the tub, you’re met with a dead end.

Sheepishly, you look over your shoulder at Coco. “I think I’m a little lost. Isn’t there a room with a really large washtub for laundry around here?”

Her eyes light up, and she lightly pushes you to keep you moving. “Yes! We’re super close.” It’s going to take a bit to get used to her actually being helpful, you think as you follow her directions. “We’re going to go down this hallway here. Now, the weird little junction up ahead? Take a left and then it’s the third door on the right.”

Now you know where you are. “Thank you! I found it my first time going through the Outpost, but I haven’t lived here for eighteen months like you.”

You’re just about to turn left at the junction when a man appears from the other side of the hallway, jabbing a knife into your abdomen before you can even be surprised at the sight. You cry out, the pain sharp and sudden as he pulls the knife out of you with nothing but malice on his face. When he looks up at you, his scowl is replaced by a horrified shock.

“Oh my god, I thought you were—” He sees Coco, standing just behind you. “She was supposed to be you !”

Your shaking hands try to press down on the wound, but blood rushes out through your fingers, and your knees go weak as you crash into the wall. Down the hall, you can hear Mallory scream your name. She runs for you with Zoe hot on her heels.

“What the fuck did you do?” Mallory yells to the man, landing next to you on the floor and gently pulling your hands away so that she can assess the damage. By the way her lips start to tremble, you assume it’s not good.

The man that stabbed you ignores her, instead focusing on Coco. “You ruin everything!” he yells at her, lifting the knife once more.

Coco pushes him over the railing before he can do any more damage. He screams the whole way down, and Coco peers after him. “Sorry?” she calls with a grimace, no love apparently lost.

“This is…a lot of blood,” you note, watching your black dress becoming even darker from the rapidly expanding bloodstain. You’re also in a lot of pain. Fuck, you didn’t think being stabbed would hurt so much.

“It’s okay! It’s alright!” Mallory soothes; you can’t tell who she’s reassuring, herself or you. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to—I’ll heal you, and then you’ll be fine.”

Your heart is pounding from a mixture of fear and adrenaline. For the first time since your arrival to this Outpost, you’re truly scared. This is a different fear from when you were worried about Emily and Timothy being executed, or when you realized that Michael wanted to have a child with you. It’s even different from the fear of knowing that you and Michael would be on opposing sides now. This is primal—this is terror.

Mallory’s hands hover over your abdomen as she begins to chant in Latin, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Nothing happens, and as the seconds tick by, your entire body starts to go cold. It’s like somebody’s taken a syringe of ice water and injected it right into your veins. You become more faint than before, and decide that laying flat will probably be the best way to rid yourself of this feeling.

“Why isn’t this working?” Mallory cries in frustration, catching your head and placing it in her lap. Tears begin to build in her eyes as she tries the same breathing technique on you as she did Coco and Dinah to bring them back to life, to no avail. You cough wetly, and when you wipe your mouth, your hand comes away red.

The realization hits you then: you’re dying. The overpowering cold, being unable to sit up anymore, the faintness—your body is beginning to shut down against your will.

“Mallory, I’m scared,” you admit.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise I’m trying.”

“I know.” You smile at the repetition even as you begin to feel so, so tired. Maybe if you close your eyes and rest for a moment, you’ll be able to get enough strength back to help you fight to stay alive.

Your eyes barely close before Mallory starts shaking you. “No, no, please don’t close your eyes!”

Marie Laveau appears at the far end of the hallway you first ran down and yells something to Mallory, but you can’t quite make out what she says over the rushing in your ears. Mallory takes one of your arms and Zoe takes the other, both working together to pull you down the hallway. You watch dizzily as Coco runs to Marie, your vision warping as the two disappear around the corner.

Mallory continues trying to heal you once they have you in the room where you’re meant to go back in time. Her hand, soaked in your blood, runs over your forehead comfortingly as she becomes more frantic in her chanting. Even Zoe tries to help, pressing down on your abdomen in the hopes of slowing the bleeding as she joins Mallory in spellwork. It’s becoming more difficult to hold on as you become weaker, the two taking turns making you open your eyes again.

“Please, please, please,” Mallory begs any and all forces beyond her power that might be listening.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, the effort to produce sounds near herculean.

“Don’t apologize,” she says sternly through tears, earning the smallest of laughs from you.

“Yes, ma’am.” Your hands shake as you feel around for Mallory’s, and you weakly squeeze when you find them. “I love you, Mal. I’m so happy I got to see you again.”

“Stop saying goodbye. I’m going to bring you back, this isn’t goodbye.”

For now, though, it is, and you both know it. When your eyes close this time, they don’t open again, and you feel yourself being dragged down, down, down, away from consciousness and life itself.

With your last remaining strength, you become introspective. You have so many regrets, so many words that you’re going to leave unsaid. You wish you had gotten the chance to actually complete the spell and go back in time, sure that you would have been able to change Michael’s mind. You want to thank Queenie and Zoe and Coco and Marie for their help, for believing that you can help fix the mess the world has become. You wish you could—

•••

Michael has had enough of witches on this Earth, he thinks as he blows Queenie’s head clean off her shoulders after coming back to life. She had been distracted by a body falling from two floors up—whose body it was remained a mystery that Michael didn’t care to solve—providing Michael the element of surprise. Even if she were still prepared, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’s too powerful for anything to stop him now.

Maybe he was naive to believe that a simple nuclear bomb or two could kill them. No, he was definitely naive. After all, Mallory knew that the world would be ending, and soon. That was more than enough time for her to gather her chosen forces and figure out a way to survive. He knows now that his path, the one that Satan had created before he had even created Michael, was always meant to lead to this. In order to truly inherit this new world and rule Hell on Earth, he must eradicate the remaining witches with his own hands.

But what to do with you? You’ve chosen your side for this battle, and it’s not his. He nervously hopes that you’re simply mad at him after how your last conversation devolved into a fight, that Mallory reached you at a vulnerable time and used that to her advantage to recruit you. Once he defeats the witches, you’ll come back to him and he’ll concede that he was perhaps wrong to bring up the idea of having a child at such an intimate moment. Still, seeing you standing in solidarity with the witches hurt, which is likely what the Supreme was planning.

When Michael makes it up the stairs, the reanimated voodoo queen blocks the hallway that he knows you and the witches have gone down. Grabbing a pouch off of her belt, she pours a powder into her hand and spreads it in a line in front of her with a chant.

“You shall not pass,” Marie declares with a smirk, wiping her hands of the powder. Michael juts his hand forward, prepared to rip her heart out of her chest, but an invisible barrier stops him. “You’re dealing with the HBIC now.”

He smiles ruefully. “Clever,” he admits. “Normally, that would work.”

He’s about to show that voodoo magic is no match for him anymore when his blood runs cold and his heart drops. At that same moment, he becomes aware of sobbing coming from far behind Marie. Though Michael’s never felt anything like this before, he can feel the certainty of what it means down to his very core: something’s happened. Specifically, something’s happened to you.

“Let me through,” he demands. Marie falters, taken aback at the fear in his eyes. “Marie Laveau, if you value your second chance at life you’ll let me through.”

She recovers from her hesitation with a haughty laugh. “Nice try.”

Michael makes quick work of her with a simple snap of his fingers, snapping her neck and sending her right back to the Underworld. He’s just about to clear the barrier and figure out just what is going on when he feels a presence behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turns around to face this distraction as well and comes face to face with Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, who was with you when he was shot. Surely she must know something about what’s going on.

“What’s happened?” Michael asks. The knife that Coco was prepared to stab him with goes limp in her wrist, and she gapes at him. “Where’s Y/n?”

“She was…Brock…” She weakly mimes a stabbing motion.

“No.” He feels sick at the mere implication. “No!”

Coco now the least of his worries, he runs down the hallway, the whole time hoping that it’s a mistake, that Coco misinterpreted what she saw, that the cold emptiness now residing in his chest is simply a fluke. The sobs that become more clear as he nears the entryway, however, don’t do much to reassure him.

“Mallory!” Michael gasps.

The Supreme is on the floor with you in her lap, and for a moment, Michael can delude himself into thinking that you’re okay. The excessive amount of blood on the floor—your blood—and the unnaturally limp way that your hand is lying force him to face the obvious. Michael’s knees give out, and he falls to the floor harshly.

Mallory looks up at him, forgetting that they’re meant to be enemies right now. “She got stabbed, and—” a sob rips from her chest, “my healing spells aren’t working. And neither is Vitalum Vitalis. It should be working, Michael, I’m the fucking Supreme.”

“Okay. Um, let me…” Michael’s brain is fighting a war between shutting down from the agony of this situation and kicking into overdrive to figure out how to get you back. After a moment, he thinks he might have an idea. He tries to pull you out of Mallory’s arms and into his own, but she refuses to loosen her hold on you. “Mallory, I need to hold her.”

While he does need to be able to touch you for the spell, he’s not really asking for that purpose. He feels that he might soon lose his grasp on sanity if he can’t hold your body. No, he needs you as close to him as possible, to try and capture the warmth of your body so that he might remind himself that you’ve only just left, that he can still get you back. Begrudgingly, Mallory allows him to hold you, but she still keeps one of your hands in hers.

He’d like to say that it looks like you’re sleeping, comforting himself with the platitude most mourners claim upon seeing a body. He’d be lying, though, because he knows what you look like when you’re sleeping. The way that your face scrunches at the smallest sensation, how your eyes move under their lids and your mouth forms silent words when you’re dreaming particularly deeply, the intermittent light snoring that you swear you don’t do. If you were simply sleeping, he’d play the prince to your Sleeping Beauty and wake you with a kiss, revealing your amused smile and your fond gaze.

Now, there’s none of that. You’ve been dead for mere minutes, but already the signs of death are here. Your face is as slack as all of your muscles now are, making your cheekbones more prominent and your mouth hinge slightly open. A sallowness has started to take over your skin, and he finds himself tracing the apples of your cheeks in a futile attempt to coax blood back to the surface. He even swears that he can feel your body growing colder, just like he feared.

It takes Michael some time to remember what he’s meant to be doing. All of this grief and pain will hopefully be for nothing, so long as he can hold himself together for a little bit longer. He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before dropping his forehead against yours. Tears are threatening to fall, and when he closes his eyes to try and hold them back, it only hastens their arrival. They roll, hot and thick, off of his face and onto yours, and he wipes them off with a silent apology.

Finally, Michael slips into a dissociation as he begins to walk between the realms of living and dead. He’s done this more than a few times now for varying reasons, becoming pretty adept at finding a soul and bringing it back to the living plane. The hardest part by far is always calming his mind enough to be able to attempt this in the first place; the fact that he’s been able to achieve it in this circumstance is a small miracle.

Now that he’s in the so-called in-between, he begins his search. Every single soul has a signature to it, so as long as he knows who he’s looking for, he usually finds the rest of this process to be pretty straightforward. Since your soul is so near and dear to him, he’s expecting this to take a couple of minutes at most.

A minute passes, then another, as he tries to track your soul down. Michael begins to grow concerned; considering you just died, he shouldn’t be having to search this hard. There’s a complete lack of you anywhere, and he begins to shake as he’s faced with the increasingly likely potential that your soul is gone. But how? Why? With a chilling clarity, he knows exactly what’s happened.

His father has become displeased. Whether he’s had enough of your and Michael’s collective disobedience over the years—Satan holds a grudge like no other, after all—or your declaration that you would never bear Michael’s child or be the perfect wife that Satan had planned for you to be. He’s had enough, and now, he’s taken this opportunity to make good on the threats he first warned Michael about during the poison apple saga. He’s made sure that you’re out of the picture for good. If Michael knows Satan, he’s probably already picked out some girl back at the Sanctuary to be wife number two, and this time, she would be the most devout, demure Satanist who would never even think of going against Satan’s will.

But Michael doesn’t want another wife. No, what he wants is to lay here on the floor and die right along with you, following you into whatever afterlife you’ve found yourself in in the hopes that he can continue to love you there. How can he ever be expected to love another person that’s not you? What kind of a life is there for him to live if you’re not here to share in it?

“Is everything okay?” Mallory asks, reminding him that there’s another person in this room, one who’s going to feel her own devastation at this news.

“I can’t find her. My father…” He chokes on his own words, unable to actually say the fate that’s befallen you. Instead, he can only cry.

Mallory picks up on the context clues, and her face drops. “So that’s it? She’s gone?”

The nod Michael gives her is the most painful movement of his life. When Mallory collapses, he also forgets the pretense of enemies and allows her to fall against him. It’s mainly for his own benefit—were he not using Mallory for support, he would be in a heap on top of you.

They remain without words for a while. Distantly, he’s aware of Zoe talking to Coco down that damned hall, the two wondering what to do now. He hopes that they come up with an answer, because he has no clue. In his opinion, there’s nowhere else to go from here. Though he may not have physically died, his life has ended along with yours in this room.

“Were you telling the truth?” Michael asks finally, making Mallory look up. “About Jeff and Mutt?”

He almost doesn’t want to know, but before he can change his mind, she nods. “All they cared about were themselves. They were fed up with minor inconveniences—having to wait for coffee, traffic woes—and wanted to ‘wipe the slate clean.’ They thought that they could reshape the world to how they wanted, and they used a vulnerable Antichrist to do so. Ms. Mead changed her tune from magic to fire and blood because Jeff and Mutt were feeding her the commands.”

He so badly wants her to be lying, but even if he couldn’t sense her truthfulness, he has his own memories to rely on. How suddenly Ms. Mead suggested that world destruction was preferred to world domination (and that the two cokehead idiots would be the guys to talk to about that) had always seemed a little odd to him, but he simply went along with it, believing Ms. Mead to still be his trusted advisor. This revelation simply makes Michael cry harder until he’s almost matching Mallory’s earlier sobs. She puts her free hand on his shoulder in comfort. Though he appreciates the gesture, nothing can bring him comfort.

All of this pain and death and destruction has been for naught. Michael spent years chasing his father’s approval and doing terrible things, things that made him so sick to think about that he forced himself to compartmentalize them in order to not drown in his shame. He’s shirked friends, love, and basic morals, only to find out that his father didn’t even care if the world ended this way. No, all Satan wanted was power and sin, which he got in spades these past eighteen months.

“How were you going to stop me?” he asks.

Mallory hesitates. “We…we were going to go back in time. There’s a spell that I found when searching through the coven’s grimoires to help with your Cordelia issue. I practiced it a few times before the bombs dropped, trying to figure out the right way to do it. Y/n was going to be both your personal tie and the one convincing you to stop the apocalypse. She had a time in place where she thought that you would be most willing to listen, to change your mind.”

It’s a smart plan, and it probably would have worked. After all, you likely know (knew, he’s reminded harshly) him better than he knows himself. As he thinks about the what-ifs, Michael realizes that this doesn’t have to be something that never happens.

“So, if you and I were to go back in time together, then we could change all of this?” Michael asks.

Mallory gapes at him. “You’re willing to give all this up?”

“What, this empty, decimated kingdom that I don’t even want?”

In the eighteen months since the apocalypse, Michael had found that he was not suited for being a ruler—he didn’t like the pomp and circumstance, nor did he like people fawning over him. Still, he pretended to be the cold, uncaring king of this “New World,” because he thought that was what Satan wanted, that he was fulfilling the destiny that he was born to.

Now, there’s nothing left to fight for. The world didn’t even need to be ended, let alone in this way. He’s been nothing but a pawn to people his whole life—the Satanists, the warlocks, the stupid fucks that ran Kineros, even Satan himself. He’s done. Done with this stupid, useless path he’s taken, done with hurting everything and everyone, and done with bowing to the whims of anybody.

After all, what has he got to show for any of this? He’s been a good little soldier, doing unspeakably horrific acts and acting like he wasn’t affected, like he wasn’t the Michael that he was before the apocalypse. How did Satan reward him? By ensuring that he would never get back the one person in his life that he has ever truly loved, and who had ever truly loved him.

“I can’t—I can’t live a life without Y/n. There is nothing without her. What do I need to do to help you?”

“Promise me,” she says. “Promise me that you will not use this second chance to end the world once again.”

“I just found out I ended the world for no reason, Mallory. A world that I was slowly coming to love, before Cordelia informed me that I needed to speed up the apocalypse plans I had been led to believe were created by my father. Before I was upset by people trying to convince me that blowing everything up was a bad idea.” Because of course, Satan would take credit for those plans if it meant that he would be closer to getting the complete chaos it would create. “Why would I try to end it again?”

Mallory searches his face for a moment before nodding. “I believe you.”

She’s known him for long enough now to know his tells, and she sees none of them. Right now, he’s too much of a wreck to even consider trying to lie, not that he was planning on it.

Mallory slowly stands, but not before kissing the back of your hand and laying it gently on your chest. “Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispers to you, kissing your forehead. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m going to make this right.”

It takes strength he didn’t know he possessed to lay you down and let go of your body. Even as he walks away, going against every instinct and leaving you on the floor, he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Mallory climbs into the large washtub in the corner of the room, flicking her wrist and filling it with water. Michael follows her in, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of sitting in wet clothes.

“Think of a time that you believe it will be easiest to completely stop the apocalypse before it goes too far,” she instructs.

There are many times in the past two years that Michael can see as a good time to stop the apocalypse. First, he’s tempted to go back to the beginning of this mess, when the witches killed Ms. Mead. Plans for the end of the world hadn’t even been drawn up yet, and he would have the added benefit of having Ms. Mead back. Plus, you wouldn’t have gone through the trauma of being kidnapped and forced to be the Antichrist’s bride.

It’s incredibly selfish, but the more Michael thinks about that avenue, the less he wants to take it. While it’s unfortunate how you came to know each other, he wouldn’t trade the way that you and he fell in love with each other for anything. But on the practical side, he wouldn’t have the influence that he has over important people and organizations were he to go back that far, and he needs that if he’s going to have enough power to keep the world from ending altogether. That’s off the table, then.

He wishes that you had told Mallory of your idea before being fatally wounded, because he probably would have agreed with your assessment. If it was any time after you moved in with him, he was already so in love with you that he could easily be swayed. What makes the most sense?

Finally, Michael has it. The time where he can be most effective at changing the fate of the world and ensuring there will not be an apocalypse by his hand, can remain powerful enough to not be usurped as Antichrist (for he’s sure that Satan will be very displeased by the change of plans if he finds out about Michael changing fate), and can still have you.

He opens his eyes and nods. “I have it.”

“Okay,” Mallory says with a hopeful smile. “Focus on that as hard as you can, place us both there.”

It’s all he can think about now, but he does as she says and recreates that time in his head. The sights, the sounds, the smells. How your hand felt in his, and the brightness of your smile. The possibilities that, at that time, seemed endless. Mallory holds her hands out and Michael takes them, feeling their magic bouncing off of each other like sparks from two exposed wires.

“Balneum infinitum. Dona salui conductus.” Mallory repeats the chant two more times, the water bubbling around them furiously and turning darker with each word.

Michael knows even without Mallory’s instruction that he’s needed to say the last part of the spell, and what that last part is. Just before they submerge themselves under the water, their voices join together to cast the most important spell of their lives.

“Tempus Infinituum.”

•••

Endnotes: Wow. I thought this would be a particularly tough chapter to write, but as I got going, the story flowed easily. I think because I've had this scene stuck in my head for so long! My FBI agent is definitely concerned by how thoroughly I read those "what happens to a body after a person dies" articles.

ALSO the Jeff and Mutt thing is canon!

Anyways, I'm gonna go watch some cute animal videos to feel better. Take care of yourselves, alright?

@ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @nsainmoonchild @redroses07

@xo-angel-ox @littleangel4996 @iamlivingforturner @thatonehumanbeing05

@codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #michael langdon imagines #mad love musings

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