#Michael Langdon x fem reader

[american-horror-story-writer]

Sleeping with micheal langdon headcannons

My guy doesn't sleep much so he'd mainly just watch you sleep

He likes sleeping on his back most of the time or just laying on his back

If you guys sleep in the same bed, your 100% going to sleep on him

He'll pull you over on top of him, so you sleep on your stomach and on him

He'd wrap his arms around you afraid you plan to wake up and leave him

You'll just wake up randomly throughout the night and look at him seeing if he's awake

And he is, if he sees your awake he'll just be like

"what are you doing awake dear?" Michael asked calmly. "I don't know" you groaned. Michael lifted your chin and kissed you softly. "Go back to sleep then" Michael said softly. You layer your head back down on his chest and tried to sleep.

He'd love kissing you whilst in bed, asleep? Smooches. Awake? Smooches. Sick? Smooches. Any time. Smooches.

He'd rub your back whilst you sleep

In my dr the Morningstars (luci and his kids) don't run hot, contrary to popular belief. They run cold, like they are cold to the touch.

So sleeping with this man is like sleeping with and ice pack.

He also only sleeps in boxers. He'd prefer you do the same and sleep in your underwear because he like as much skin on skin contact.

If your a woman, he'd want to massage your boobs, (wit consent ofc) but he'd think of them like stress revealers.

Also when he gets up he'd prefer to carry you. Like you just wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, he's got one hand on your ass holding you up and one hand on your back.

My dude is touch starved af so he wants you 24/7

If your a guy hes just rubbing your back smoothly

Micheal might seem all mean but when he's with you my dude is soft for you. He's a simp.

And his favorite thing to do is when it's a gloomy day out and yall are cuddling, he'll just lazily fuck you.

He's laying on his right side and you are on your left, your head in the crook of his neck and he gently thrusts his thick length in and out of you. Your hips on his, his thick thighs holding your legs open whilst he thrusts. He's holding you from your back with his right hand so your squished against him, his left hand is either rubbing your clit tenderly or holding your lower back against him.

He continues to thrust for as long as yall stay in bed that day. He's tenderly kissing you and making sure you stay with him.

On other days he needs to sleep on you, you are his safe place so when he needs sleep he only can sleep in your arms

You laying on your back whilst micheal snuggles his head to the crook of your neck gently kissing your neck, his arms around your waist and his legs tangled with yours. You play with his hair gently and rub circles on his back.

He likes your heart beat and your breathing patterns, he monitors them whilst he sleeps, and if it changes he immediately wakes up. Poor baby is so worried about you 24/7

Please send asks!

[saintlucretia]

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐿𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝐼𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓁𝓁

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤaka Saint Lucretia

ㅤㅤㅤㅤAmerican Horror Story

James Patrick March

Last Breath

A Lethiferous Date With an Art Deco Man

Melancholy Of A Sinner

Wrong Company For A Teenage Girl

Wrong Company For A Teenage Girl, part Ⅱ (coming soon)

Austin Sommers

Whiskey & Blood

Michael Langdon

Devil Wears A Suit, part Ⅰ

Devil Wears A Suit, part Ⅱ

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

(Feel free to request other fandoms as well!!)

[velangdon]

AMATIVE→Michael Langdon: Chapter 1

The oppression in my chest remains constant with each step I take. I can occasionally feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I try to keep them at bay. Though I feel an oppressive knot settling in my throat, preventing me from breathing freely, I summon enough courage to approach the entrance of the Palace where the last and greatest party of the cooperative is going to take place.

Despite not yet finding the answers or the adequate reasons to understand how so many people here can feel comfortable celebrating an event that will mark a before and after in the world, the end of everything and everyone, the end of an era and the beginning of another.

Everyone is celebrating the future deaths that will occur tomorrow.

My body is trembling, and although I'm trying my best to keep my legs from collapsing at this moment, I cling to my father's arm. Gripping the fabric of his coat sleeves between my fingers and taking gentle steps to maintain my balance due to the anxiety and nervousness my body is experiencing.

"Calm down, Vitney. We're just approaching the entrance."

My father's harsh voice echoes in my ears, and my stomach tightens as I hear his words. I can't keep calm in a celebration like this, and especially not when I know the secret behind it all.

As we approach the entrance, the knot in my throat continues to tighten, preventing me from uttering a single word. I want to look at my father, but I know that doing so would only dig my own grave since my emotions would collapse and my vulnerable gaze would cause problems between us, not to mention I would receive a lecture from him calling me too sentimental about simple things.

Unfortunately, what seems simple to others is as important to me as my life itself. And this celebration is no exception.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally arrive at the entrance of the Palace where a man and a woman are welcoming all the guests. The woman, who appears to be no older than 25 years, wears an elegant dress with many details in the sleeves, but it's a very dull gray that makes her look sad and drab even though she gives a friendly smile to all the guests. She is in charge of collecting the invitations, and her partner, a man with tanned skin and a friendly expression, is in charge of keeping track of the guest list. He also wears a suit that seems expensive, but it's the same depressing gray as the girl's dress. My mind wanders a bit regarding their role here, which, although they don't appear to be slaves, they somehow manage to give off the impression of being servants of the place. And for some reason, a pinch registers in my chest as I dwell on this naive but profound thought.

When it's our turn for the reception, the girl in the gray dress gives me a sweet and cordial look. I make my best effort to return the same kind of friendly look, but I'm so overwhelmed by all my thoughts that I can barely manage to give her a smile. To my father, who is engaging in small talk with the man in the gray suit and making sure our names are on the list, I give a discreet and suspicious look. He looks so excited to be entering here that it gives me shivers.

"Everything is in order, your names are on the lists of second-tier guests" The man at the reception tells us. "Welcome, and don’t forget to grab a black mask from the box at the end of the hallway. The theme for this last celebration is a masquerade ball."

The mention of a masquerade ball surprises me a little. I've never had the depressing opportunity to attend a cooperative party, but I was completely sure that all the times my parents had attended similar celebrations, the theme was never taken into account, except for the dress code. And I didn’t know if it was something I should be worried about or not, but the idea that this could be deeper than it seems makes me feel anxious and impatient.

I'm lost in my thoughts until I feel my father gently pushing me to start walking again. The woman and man in the reception area lift a pair of elegant silk curtains in a deep crimson color that covers most of the palace entrance, and gesture for us to enter. I hold onto my father's arm tighter, practically just following his steps, unable to control myself.

As we enter the palace, I realize how gloomy and drab the atmosphere is. The decoration is so gothic, elegant, and dreary that I feel as if I am in a castle from the 18th century. The lighting is dim, but it allows me to see a bit of the style of the place, where the walls have details in gold and black. There are some chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the light they emanate is a peculiar reddish tone due to the candles, which are the same shade. The windows have arches as the main detail, and the glass they are made of is slightly dark, as if it has some extra-material that does not allow light to pass through completely. Additionally, there are statues at each corner of what appear to be angels made of marble. They are enormous but beautiful, and it is easy to notice that they are very expensive. I can't completely distinguish the identities of the angels, as they are not familiar to me. But as we move farther and farther in, finally my gaze is frozen on one of the marble angels situated on the side of me, next to a dark hallway leading to deeper stairs. I force myself to stop walking and stand in front of the divine image.

"Lucifer" I quietly whisper to myself, as I am surprised and confused by the sight of the statue of the angel.

I can hear my father sighing next to me, and clearing his throat. My mind races for a moment and something in my chest presses firmly.

"What's surprising you so much, Vitney?" my father asks, a hint of confusion in his voice "There is nothing there"

"The statue, don't you see it? It's Lucifer, the angel..." I reply, pointing to where the statue is. His gaze is so confusing that it makes me want to cry.

"I said there's nothing there, Vitney. Enough" he says harshly, grabbing my wrist with some violence and dragging me away from there, making me walk quickly. "It's already late. We should have been at the celebration for half an hour"

I feel like protesting because of how harshly he speaks to me, but something forces me to keep quiet. The palace belongs to the cooperative, or at least that's what I understand. This means that everything here, including the decorations, are symbols that belong to what this society is. My father has just denied having seen the statue, but I'm sure that the marble angel was Lucifer.

Why does the cooperative have a statue related to the fallen angel?

"Vitney, you have to stop daydreaming" He puts his palm under my chin, forcing me to look at him "I need you here, darling. You know that this celebration is very important to me and your mother, don't you?"

"But dad, I was just..."

"Vitney, no. That's enough. We will enter the celebration and you will put a big and beautiful smile on your face, do you understand? You are my daughter, the daughter of one of the most important cooperative members" he says, squeezing my chin hard, making me gasp for air from the pain "Don't you dare ruin this, Vitney"

His words hit me hard in the heart. Again my throat closes and the prickling in my chest returns. I have never been enough for my father, and my role has always been to be what he wants me to be. The perfect daughter who acts like a shy and well-mannered young lady. Always wearing the most expensive and elegant clothing; the type of woman who has her life mapped out and resolved.

But none of that is who I am.

My father removes his grip from my chin and observes me sternly. Tears form in my eyes, but I hold them back to remember I have makeup on and my vulnerability will likely cause even more anger in him. I lower my gaze to the floor for a moment, until in my vision I see a very elegant and feminine mask in silver and gray tones with some crystals embedded in the edges, as well as lace around the corners of the mask. My father makes a gentle gesture for me to take the mask and place it. I do as he asks, tying the ties of the mask behind my head, a little clumsily because my fingers tremble softly.

"You look beautiful. Now all you need is to remove that bitter face and smile a little. I know you can do it, darling"

I take a deep breath and nod uncertainly. I try to smile as best I can, but I know it comes across as more of a grimace. My father's face lights up in response to my silly expression, and he puts his arm through mine. We walk down the hallway again, and with his free hand he puts on the mask he chose to use. There's nobody around, but the murmurs and music are starting to build. My body tenses a little, and the mere idea of being about to enter a celebration full of greedy and sick people like the cooperative makes me nauseous.

After a few minutes, we arrive at another long passage, but this time there is a delicate shimmer of light at the end of it. Some laughter and shouts of excitement approach, and a shiver runs from my feet to my head.

"Your mother must be completely hysterical not to see us coming." my father says, guiding me towards the entrance at the end of the corridor "You will have to explain the reason for our delay to her."

After hearing his comment, I press my lips together and frown slightly as I divert my gaze towards the new room we are approaching to. Many people belonging to the cooperative are in front of us, and they seem happy and incapable of allowing anything to ruin this moment that is so important to them. Some women are wearing high-end designer dresses, and utterly stylish masks. Men are wearing suits tailored from exclusive materials, and some masks are eerie. I don't know if I'm awestruck or scared, but the surprising thing is to see the repetitive colors in the outfits of everyone.

Red and Black.

As we move forward, the music becomes clearer and the murmurings a little softer. There are walnut wooden tables everywhere. Some attendees are sitting taking appetizers, and others are simply drinking their glasses or having a pleasant conversation. My eyes move from one person to another, and I realize with a start that some impudent and curious glances are directed at me and then at my father. I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead, but the corners of my eyes betray me and before I realize, I realize that all the attention is centered on me.

It could be because of my dress that doesn't even match the theme or the fact that we arrived with a visibly late delay. But in any case, discomfort begins to affect me, and I have never wished for anything as much as I want to escape from here.

"Look, there is your mother. I'm going to introduce you officially with important people. Be kind and polite, Vitney. It's the only thing I ask of you."

He points to a table in the corner of the room where a group of women and men stand, their masks and masks even more unusual than those of the other guests. I squint my eyes a little, distinguishing my mother thanks to his jet-black hair tied in a typical bun on the back of her neck. I see her laugh joyously, and for a moment her smile is contagious, spreading the delight that she emanates.

In a short moment, she throws a quick glance our way as we approach her table. Her lips part in surprise at our appearance.

"Vitney, my princess!" My mother screams enthusiastically. She quickly rises from her seat and runs forward a little, making her heels clatter against the fine marble floor "You look beautiful, sweetheart!"

She gasps with excitement and hugs me tightly as she reaches me, closing my eyes for a moment, as I feel the sensation of my eyes forming more desperate tears.

"I apologize for the delay..." I reply in a low voice, hugging her around the waist "I was just a bit nervous, and Dad got frustrated again, as always..."

My mother sighs and then separates from me. She gives the people seated at the table a quick glance before turning to me and walking with me to a place away from everyone. She strokes my arms and shakes her head softly.

"It's understandable sweetheart, these kinds of celebrations can be overwhelming and ... especially knowing that it's your first time in our world." She smiles. "Don't let your father ruin this last night for you"

Don't let your father ruin this last night for you.

An impulse of disappointment grips me, and again the oppression in my chest weakens me. My mother's words sound so harsh and true that I want to burst into tears. I don't know how I can bear being in this place, considering that the Apocalypse is around the corner. And that surely anyone who is underneath one of those masks or masks is the mastermind behind the next catastrophe.

My mother hugs me again, and even though I try to prevent it, I'm feeling emotional again. Tears run down my cheeks like a river, and I hold her tightly. I can feel that some people are looking at us, but the only thing I can think about is staying close to the only thing that has helped me stay on my feet since I was a child, and that's my mother.

It feels like a farewell, and that's what hurts the most. Because I'm sure she has no idea what's going to happen with us either, even though my father made it clear that the cooperative has built a kind of bunkers around the world to serve as a refuge for the elite.

We are supposed to be part of that elite.

"Don't make it sound like a farewell, Mom" I reply with a quivering voice "Please. We'll be fine, right?"

She looks at me, smiling sadly. She strokes my hair without saying anything, and then joins her hands with mine. More tears form beneath my eyes, and now I cannot stop them. She gives me a gentle squeeze on my hands. I'm about to ask her for all possible explanations she can give me because desperation is killing me slowly, but quickly she takes me by the waist, turning me to the opposite side of the room. She squeezes one of my shoulders, and I watch her in confusion.

"Mom, what are you..."

"Vitney, be quiet. Your father is coming here" my mother squeezes my shoulders, looking in a specific direction "Stand up straight, dear"

A few seconds later, my father is already standing in front of us. He wears an overly visible smile on his face and moves to my side, separating me from my mother's arm.

"Dear, you're coming with me. I need to introduce you to someone" my father says with enthusiasm, placing a hand on my waist and leading me through the tables "Be on your best behaviour, okay?"

"Who do I need to meet?" I ask, a bit irritated, not understanding the situation.

My father does not reply, and he forces me to keep walking between the tables, holding on to my wrist firmly. I want to get out of his grip, but he is stronger than me, and he does not notice my discomfort. I am a few seconds away from yelling at him to let me go, when a voice becomes present behind us, and my father stops abruptly. He turns quickly and forces me to do the same. I lower my gaze and close my eyes, refusing to face my reality.

"Good evening, Mr. Lacey" an unknown but authoritative, discrete, and masculine voice reaches my ears. It speaks to my father. I tremble a little but do not have the courage to look. "It's a pleasure to have you here, I thought you might not come"

"Sir, what an honour. Of course we would be here, we just had a small mishap" my father responds and laughs nervously.

I squeeze my fingers around my father's arm, and feel his body leaning towards me. He squeezes my waist and I jump in place a little.

"Stop acting like a frightened, immature girl. Be educated, Vitney. You have the most important representative of the cooperative right in front of us" he whispers in my ear in an ironic and aggressive tone. "You are already a woman, you have to stop running away from everything around you"

A tear runs down my cheek due to the hostility of his words. I have no choice, but I feel so anguished and nervous that I don't dare to look anyone in the eye. My father squeezes my arm aggressively, as a warning to let me know that he won't repeat things twice. Finally, I take the courage to open my eyes and lift my gaze. My vision is clouded by tears, but I manage to glimpse the outline of a man in front of me.

"Miss Lacey" the voice makes itself present again, and this time it speaks to me. I freeze in my place, but the man moves, walking in my direction.

I can't answer. I know that if I do, I'll start crying.

"My name is Michael Langdon and I am the representative of the cooperative" the man says in a formal tone "It is a pleasure to meet you, miss."

Then, for some unknown reason, as I hear his name, I feel my heart skip a beat. And I realize that I am on the verge of falling into my own perdition.

[Hey! The first chapter of "Amative" of my Michael fanfic is finally published. It was quite a challenge because my English is not very good and my novel is originally written in Spanish, and if there are any errors, please have patience as I still struggle a bit to translate my story into English.

I hope you enjoy the chapter, btw. <3]

[auroracalisto]

do you trust me?

michael langon x gn!reader, 265 words tw: i genuinely don't have any warnings for this one a/n: this is short. might continue. maybe not.

"Are you scared?" he asked, a faint smile showing.

He was beautiful—unlike the others that you were stuck in the outpost with. In fact, he was the only person in this godforsaken place that made your heart beat out of your chest. Your body trembled, your legs moving on their own accord when you saw him.

But were you scared of him? Of this absolute stranger you didn't know existed until just a few days ago?

You were a grey. Was absolute honesty allowed?

He tilted his head at your silence, an eyebrow raised as he kept his eyes on you.

"I asked you a question, Y/n."

"No," you quickly said, eyes locking with his. "No, I am not scared. Why would I be?"

He smirked, leaning back in his seat.

"There are many things you don't know," he said.

"The same could be said for you, Langdon," you said, swallowing thickly. Your brazenness continued to amaze you as the moments passed.

His smile only grew. "I suppose you're right," he said. "But... mind you, I am just a stranger. Shouldn't you be scared of someone you just met?"

"Why would I? You've done nothing to me..."

He rose an eyebrow. He had done far more than you would ever know, but he said nothing of it.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "I have great plans for you, Y/n. Do you trust me?"

Do you trust him? What kind of question was that? But without missing a beat, the words left your lips.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes. I trust you."

[beastsovrevelation]

Anyone want Crowley x Readers? Or War x Readers? I don't know how long I'll take to start uploading my WIPs, and I don't like to not upload. Female Reder. Both male and female Crowley (not at the same time). War'd be... Herself.

What are you saying? I'm procastrinating? Why, ✨yes✨, how did you know? On my WIPs, original works, and papers for uni.

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

Heyy I saw your requests were open ✨

I’d love to see ‘It’s magic Darling’ (dilf!Michael Langdon) fully done, the tags have been barren for way too long lol

i definitely agree on the tags, where’s the love for our boys 😭

‘it’s called magic, darling’ is actually one of my favorite wips because c’mon… dilf!Michael???

anyhow, i’ve got some free time, so i’m hoping i can post sometime this week!

[redroses07]

F**k It I Love You /// Michael Langdon

Michael Langdon x Fem!reader

Summary: Reader is a witch, but her and Michael seem to have a special connection. So what happens when her coven has to oversee Michael taking the test of The Seven Wonders. Will she stay loyal to her coven, or herself?

CW: Swearing, Kissing, Alludes to smut, Sexual themes, some violence.

WC: 3.2k

A/N: Hey guys!!! My first full fic after my year long disappearance!!! I really like this and I'm super excited to post it! I'll definitely make a part two if this does good, or upon request. With perhaps smut? Anyways I hope everyone is doing well!! Love y'all and as always, enjoy! ♡⋆˙

You sit in your lonely, over sized room at Miss Robichaux's academy, awaiting this afternoon's daunting task. You and the rest of the witches on the council, including Zoe, Myrtle, and Cordelia, were to visit Hawthorne school for young warlocks.

It was a place where none of the witches, including you, enjoyed visiting. Mostly due to the crude and pompous attitude of the warlocks towards you and your sisters.

It's not your fault that warlocks were naturally inferior to witches. Come to think of it you had never met a warlock who was so much as tolerable. Well...that is until a few months ago.

This particular visit to Hawthorne was something no witch, or warlock for that matter, had ever thought would come to pass.

For the first time ever, the test of the Seven Wonders will be performed on a warlock. A young man named Michael Langdon.

From the beginning Cordelia, your coven's supreme, had refused to perform this test deeming that it would be suicide. That was until Michael brought two witches, Queenie and Madison, back from the dead.

While this changed her mind, it also raised her concerns about Michael.

Cordelia had called a meeting with you and the rest of the council prior to your departure. She had described a darkness in Michael, one she had never seen in someone before. She described his energy as almost inhuman, something otherworldly.

"I am warning you all, proceed with caution." Cordelia had said.

While you smiled and agreed like you had been made to do, you had other thoughts on your mind.

You had connected with Michael from the moment you first met him, and in a way you had never experienced with another. Your fellow witches had been standoffish and dismissive to him, most likely feeling threatened by his power, you didn't feel the need.

He seemed to feel comfortable around you from the beginning. You didn't know if it was because you were the only witch who cared enough to treat him like a human being, or if there were other reasons. Despite that, conversation with Michael came easy, and the more interactions the two of you had the closer you became.

What was originally a simple act of kindness turned into prolonged eye contact and uncontrollable eye contact. The increasingly frequent visits to Hawthorne began to feel less like a punishment and more like a reward.

No matter, your sisters came first, which meant you had to push your growing emotions away.

Under any other circumstance you would be excited to see your friend, but the Seven Wonders weren't just any other event. Especially after Cordelia's warning, so unfortunately today was going to be stressful no matter what.

"Hurry up everyone, time to go!" you heard Cordelia call, annoyance in her voice.

You jumped up, not wanting to anger her further, fixed your hat, and headed down the stairs.

You, Cordelia, Zoe, and Myrtle all gathered in a circle in order to transmutate to Hawthorne collectively. Queenie and Madison also joined you, Madison wearing her iconic scowl.

You stood next to Zoe, your favorite among the council. Not that you disliked the other witches...but Myrtle was a little batty and Cordelia was well...Cordelia.

"Prepare yourselves sisters." Cordelia said softly, a serious look on her face.

Next thing you knew, your group was standing outside the strange structure that was Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men.

The six of you walked in, all trailing behind Cordelia.

You passed through the dark corridors, trying to hide the fact that you hoped Michael would appear around the corner.

When you and your magical companions made it to the room where the testing would take place you were greeted by warlock Ariel Augustus.

Out of all the warlocks you despised he was by far the worst, there was just something so off-putting about him. Yet you still shook his hand and gave him a half-hearted smile.

You gave the room a quick glance, looking for Michael.

"And when will Michael be joining us?" You asked Ariel.

"I would like to get this over as quickly as possible" You add, in an effort to seem disinterested.

Ariel looks at you with a sour face before looking over your shoulder towards the door.

"Well, it looks like you've got your wish because here comes the young warlock now." Ariel replies with distaste.

You turn around, and are faced with Michael's golden locks and icy blue eyes. He's wearing his usual, a long black cloak over his school uniform, yet he somehow manages to make the basic outfit look better than ever.

"Hello Michael." You say formally, keeping your serious composure. All while the two of you exchange a playful look, agreeing that these formalities are ridiculous.

Michael greeted you and the two of you drifted off to the far side of the room where you pretended to make small talk.

"God, this is so stressful." Michael says to you, breathing out a frustrated sigh.

Around others Michael had the tendency to put on a show, but never for you. With you, he was free of judgement.

"It'll be okay, just trust your instincts. You've got this." If Cordelia knew you were giving Michael advice you would surely be punished, but she doesn't need to know.

Michael shifted on his feet and looked at the ground, failing at hiding the blush creeping up his pale cheeks.

You almost reached out to give him a hug of reassurance but then remembered the others in the room. If you were being honest with yourself you really did have feelings for him, although reality told you that would never work out.

"Can we all just shut up and get on with this shit." Madison announced with an eye roll.

It was never a dull moment with her around.

"Yes, yes." Myrtle said.

Everyone took a seat as Cordelia began to explain the rules of the seven wonders.

You and Michael stood near each other behind a couch.

You figured since your lower bodies were hidden from the others it would be safe to reach out and squeeze his hand for reassurance.

You slowly put Michael's hand in yours and ran your fingers across his knuckles. His palms were sweaty. You truly believed you were the only one who sympathized with him on this, and you were glad you could give him that.

You and Michael made eye contact and exchanged a look of longing.

You broke the eye contact to look at Zoe who was giving you a look as if to say "stop what you're doing." She knew, of course she knew. Zoe was your best friend, of course she could tell when you liked a boy. Even if the circumstances were far more dire than your average high school romance.

You drop Michael's hand but he reaches back over and pulls it back, signaling "stay"

You sigh, what on earth were you getting yourself into.

"Okay, now if the rules are understood, we may begin." Cordelia announced, while scanning the room.

No one objected, and Ariel motioned for you all to follow him.

You felt the warmth of Michael's hand leaving you, and you were released from your own thoughts. You looked over at him to see him slowly walking towards the exit.

"Come on," Michael called back to you giving you a half-hearted smile.

You hurriedly caught up with him and the rest of the group, although the both of you remained at the end of the pack.

Ariel led you down a series of dark corridors. They all looked the same, and you began to lose count of the amount of turns you had taken.

Good luck getting out of here if you needed to make a break for it, you thought to yourself.

When you finally reached your destination, everyone gathered in the center of the large room. It looked just like every other room at Hawthorne, drab and dungeon-like. The only difference here was that it was larger and relatively empty.

Cordelia stood in the center of the room, a stern expression on her face.

"The first of the seven wonders, Telekinesis." She pointed to Michael, calling for him to join her in the center of the room.

You watched him as he walked towards her. He did almost too good of a job at hiding his nerves, walking with such effortless grace. You were almost envious.

Michael pointed to a candle hanging on the wall along the far side of the room. The candle quickly floated into his grasp.

The warlocks applauded, looking thrilled with his performance.

Telekinesis was the easiest of the seven wonders, and one any basic witch or warlock could easily achieve. So, naturally you and your fellow witches remained unimpressed.

"Next is Concilium, or mind control." Cordelia explained, gesturing for Michael to begin.

Michael also demonstrated this with ease, making Zoe and Madison perform a dance before everyone's eyes.

The next four Seven Wonders, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, and Vitalum Vitalus, were all demonstrated by Michael perfectly. Even better than yourself you had to admit, which was odd considering how inexperienced he was.

The further the test progressed, the more concerned the members of your coven looked. You were torn, as you usually were when it came to Michael. Part of you shared your coven's concerns, after all, a male supreme would change the course of all of your lives. The rational part of you did not ever want to see a world where the powers of a warlock surpassed yours. Yet another part of you, the part that cared for Michael, wanted him to succeed despite all other factors.

Although the hardest test of the Seven Wonders, Descensum, had yet to be tested. And you knew Cordelia wouldn't let Michael get off without adding a catch.

"Today, I'm not asking you to perform this wonder...I am asking you to conquer it." Just as you had expected, Cordelia was going to twist the rules.

Cordelia proceeded to ask Michael to retrieve the long lost Misty Day from the underworld, where she was banished after being unable to achieve the seventh wonder.

You glanced over at Michael, who stared Cordelia dead in the eye. You weren't surprised that he looked unfazed, he had in fact done this before when he brought Madison back from the dead.

Despite that, the warlocks were outraged, arguing with Cordelia about the task's unfairness.

"It's okay, I'll do it." Michael said calmly and definitively, shutting everyone up.

You gave Michael a concerned look, which he combated with a soft smile.

Michael laid down on the floor, getting in the position needed for the task. He began reciting the spell, which was a jumble of Latin words.

Michael then fell into a deep trance, signaling that the process of Descensum had begun.

Now all that was left to do was to wait.

You walked to the back of the room and sat in a chair next to Zoe and Queenie. You tapped your foot on the floor nervously, your heel making a repetitive clicking noise.

You waited in silence for about ten minutes, your eyes glued to Michael just in case.

"My god how long is this supposed to take, some people have things to do." Madison huffed, and as if on cue Michael shot up into a sitting position.

You, along with everyone else, rushed forward in anticipation.

"Where's Misty?" Cordelia demanded angrily.

Michael said nothing. He stared blankly at the wall, breathing heavily.

Before you could stop yourself you leaned down to check if he was okay, but just as you placed your hand on his shoulder someone's tight grip pulled you back.

"Watch out!" Zoe yelled, as she yanked you towards her.

You stumbled over your feet, nearly losing your balance. You looked below you and your eyes widened at what you saw.

Misty had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and right where you had been only moments before.

You were in shock, and apparently so was Cordelia.

She dropped to the ground and pulled Misty into a tight hug, tears falling from her face.

You looked over at Michael, who staggered back towards a table in the corner of the room. He looked exhausted, and you fought the urge to ask him if he was okay.

Your focus shifted when you heard Misty call your name.

The curly haired woman gave you a long teary eyed hug, and you only now realized how much you had missed her. You made a mental note to thank Michael for this reunion later.

"Cordelia!" Queenie yelled, and once again you were forced to shift your attention.

Cordelia was hunched over, blood running down her nose. She looked weak, like she had after seeing Queenie and Madison return.

"What's happening?" Madison shouted.

"What happens every time a new supreme rises, the old one begins to fade." One of the warlocks said proudly.

"You're a pathetic pompous ass!" Myrtle spat, pulling Cordelia close to her.

You followed her example and stepped closer to your supreme, putting your hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

"There is no denying it...Michael is the new supreme." Cordelia huffed before nearly collapsing to the floor.

You gasped, scrambling to help her back to her feet. Once Cordelia was stable again Myrtle and Misty carried her to a private room to help her recover.

"Well...I guess we will reconvene later." Ariel announced to the rooms remaining occupants.

As everyone began to file out of the room you saw Michael head in your direction. You began walking over to meet him when Zoe grabbed onto your arm once more.

She pulled you in the opposite direction and loudly announced, "Can I talk to you for a moment."

Before you had time to object she had pulled you out of the room and down one of the many dark corridors.

"Zoe is everything o-" She cut you off.

"Do you know how dangerous what you're doing is?" Zoe scolded.

Your stomach dropped.

"What do you mean..." you replied, acting clueless.

Zoe sighed in frustration.

'I'm your best friend, you think I don't see how you two look at each other?"

Dammit. Was it that obvious?

"Zoe, I know it's wrong. I know the coven will disapprove. I'm sorry. I'll make it go away, I promise." You sounded defeated.

Zoe pursed her lips. "Listen, I'm not saying you have to stop. I'm just saying be better at hiding it. Cause you know what will happen if Cordelia finds out."

You sighed, she was right. Cordelia would be furious if she knew, especially since she was already so suspicious of Michael. It would likely even be grounds for being burned at the stake.

"I'm just saying be careful is all, but other than that my lips are sealed." Zoe said.

You nodded in agreement and smiled at your friend.

"Be safe." Zoe hugged you quickly before walking off to go check on Cordelia.

You turned on your heel and walked down the hall, a long sigh escaping your lips.

As you turned the corner you felt someone's strong grip pull you down a darkened hall.

"What the hell-"

You looked up to see Michael looming above you.

"Jesus, Michael you scared me." You gasped, hand on your fast beating heart.

"I heard everything, everything Zoe said to you." Michael said, his piercing blue eyes burning into yours.

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

"Michael. She's right you know. I mean my coven hates you, what would they think?" You explained.

"Shhhh.." Michael whispered as he brought his index finger to your lips.

"I don't care, what we have is more important."

"Don't you agree?"

Michael took your hands in his and brought them to his chest. He looked at you in a pleading, almost desperate way.

"Michael, I-" You said unsure of your actions. You knew the consequences of betraying your coven, but were you ready to embrace them? you didn't know.

"Please..." Michael stammered.

You felt his hot breath against your already warm skin. The strong scent of his cologne filled your nostrils. everything about him was irresistible, it was all just too much.

"I can't wait any longer. I need this, I need you." Michael said.

That was it for you.

"Oh just fuck it." You said before pressing your lips harshly to his.

You pulled Michael down by the front of his shirt to better adjust to his height.

The kiss was short lived, but that didn't stop you from wanting more.

Thankfully Michael felt the same because he reached for the nearest door and opened it, pulling you inside.

He kissed you sloppily and hungrily as he yanked you through the doorway. He slammed the door behind you while continuing to kiss you.

"Is this a closet?" You asked, looking around at the small space.

"I believe so..." Michael replied, smiling at you.

You laughed and kissed him again.

Michael pushed you into the corner while kissing you slowly. He bit down on your lip, drawing a significant amount of blood. You let out a soft moan as Michael sucked at the small wound.

Michael broke the kiss and gazed at you lovingly.

"God you're so beautiful."

You smiled, trying to hide your flustered reaction. He made your heart do back flips.

Michael kissed you on the cheek, then your lips again.

"Everyone's probably looking for me, I can't be gone too long. After all I am the supreme now." Michael said with a smirk.

"Just a few more minutes please." You whined, pulling him into you.

'Well, I guess I can make time for you." Michael kissed you harshly as if this was the last chance he'd ever get to.

His hand snaked down your back and stopped to tightly wrap around your waist. You couldn't hear anything except heavy breathing from the both of you.

You reached up, lacing your fingers through Michael's hair. You pulled at the long blonde locks.

Michael put his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up around his waist. This gave his easier access to your neck and chest, which he began pressing desperate kisses to.

Michael nipped and sucked at your neck and parts of your slightly exposed chest. Only then did you feel something poking you beneath where your legs were wrapped around Michael's waist.

"Well someone's excited." You stated.

"What can I say?" Michael laughed softly.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at his sarcasm.

"Want me to take care of that for you?"

Michael's face turned red, clearly embarrassed. As much as he tried to hide behind his 'bad boy' persona, he truly was just an awkward guy.

"As much as I'd love that it'll have to be another time. Unfortunately I have more important things to take care of." Michael sighed.

You frowned, disappointed. He was right.

"How about this. Tomorrow night we meet, and we can finish what we started." Michael inquired, tracing his finger across your jawline.

You smiled,

"That works for me."

On that note you and Michael exited the cramped closet. But before stepping out into the hall Michael pulled you in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around you lovingly, and you sank into his touch.

"I love you." Michael whispered so quietly you could barely hear him.

"I love you too." You replied with no hesitation.

Michael kissed you on the forehead before stepping out into the hall.

"Till tomorrow, my love." Were his parting words as Michael disappeared around the corner.

You laughed to yourself, what an adventure this was going to be.

[megwritesriddles]

Reflected Desire ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 2 - Mirror Sex. Michael is staying at Robichuax Academy, awaiting the Seven Wonders test. He takes a liking to one of the witches to pass the time and is determined to get her alone, no matter where that might be.

Tags: Mirror sex, P in V, Unprotected sex, Mildly dubious consent, Mild red flags, Praise kink, Biting, Marking, Bathroom sex, Out of character Michael, Hawthorne!Michael, Reader is a witch, SoftDom!Michael (sorta?), Antichrist!Michael (alluded to), No plot.

Word count: 2k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I haven't watched Apocalypse in so long so a million apologies that this is definitely out of character!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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The halls of Robichaux Academy had never been tenser. Michael Langdon was staying in the academy, waiting to take the Seven Wonders test. A snake in your midst. He mostly kept to himself and his fellow warlocks but he had seemed to have taken an odd liking to you. He would flash you charming smiles as you passed him in the halls, make a point to sit beside you at dinner, pull out your chair for you and make a show of being the perfect gentleman. Despite him being considered the enemy, you could tell many of the witches felt deeply jealous at the attention he was lavishing on you. Michael, for all his flaws, was an extraordinarily handsome man, it was almost unnatural how flawless he looked. Sometimes, his perfect smiles almost unnerved you, made you feel that there was something almost wrong with him. However, then his eyes would land on you, almost softening slightly and you were swept away by his looks once more. You couldn’t understand the attention he paid you. None of the other warlocks had batted a single eye at you. Someone like Madison seemed much more deserving of this attention, but he was giving it to you, and you could hardly complain.

His temporary room in the academy was on the same corridor as yours, you passed him often on the way in and out. He would smile and try his best to ensnare you into conversation, but often you were busy, heading to classes or to bed. You could see his displeasure all over his face whenever you would make your excuses, but he remained measured and polite, suggesting he catch you some other time. Tonight, you left your room, toothbrush clutched in hand, heading for one of the shared bathrooms. He emerged almost instantly after you had, making you wonder if he’d been listening out for your door to open. He approaches from behind, snaking a hand across your back and onto your hip, using his grip to turn you to face him. He smiles charmingly as you flush a little.

“Good evening, my darling,” he purrs, tugging you a little closer. He’s never been quite this forward before, you find you don’t hate it. 

“Good evening, Michael,” you smile back shyly. He’s still dressed in his pristine Hawthorne School uniform, though he’s ditched the tie and the outer layers, still in his crisp white shirt and dress pants. You’re just wearing some old loungewear, an oversized sweater that hangs slightly off of your shoulder and a pair of sweats. It makes you feel shyer than normal, the contrast of how the two of you must look together, but he just smiles pleasantly.

“What are you up to?” he muses, toying slightly with the hem of your sweater. You lift your toothbrush to his gaze.

“Heading to brush my teeth… wash my face… that sort of stuff,” you shrug, averting your eyes to one of the paintings on the wall by the staircase. He hums in acknowledgement, his finger dipping slightly under your sweater, brushing innocently against the skin of your side.

“I suppose that means you’re once again too busy for a chat,” he mutters with a resigned tone, but he’s smiling in a way that tells you he isn’t feeling all that down at all. You open your mouth to answer, but he interjects. “Unless I join you,” he muses with a grin. 

“Join me?”

“Yes, actually that’s a fine idea… let's go, shall we?” he chuckles, guiding you by a hand on your waist toward one of the bathrooms. You follow silently, feeling a little bewildered. The two of you enter the bathroom, he flicks on the lights with a finger and clicks the lock, making you tense a little. He just smiles, coming to stand behind you as you wet your toothbrush at the sink. You look up, meeting his eye in the mirror, before quickly averting your gaze again. He looks unbelievably smug, like he’s got you where he wants you and you realise with a start as his arms snake around your waist, that he has. His fingers gather up your hair, pushing it gently over one of your shoulders, baring one side of your neck to him. His breaths are warm as they wash over your neck, he presses himself against you, watching you in the mirror. You continue silently brushing your teeth, staring down into the sink as his nose nudges at the underside of your ear. “You smell lovely,” he hums, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been waiting so long to get you alone,” he presses his lips softly to the skin of your neck. You blush deeply, dipping down for a moment to spit your toothpaste froth out. He seems completely undeterred, holding you even closer as you straighten back up. You gasp, your eyes widening as you feel something hard against your lower back. He chuckles deeply. “Do you feel what you do to me?” You nod without words and he smirks. He peppers more soft kisses up and down your neck, making his way down to your bare shoulder and back up again. Through the reflection of the mirror, you watch his lips latch onto your neck, sucking gently. His eyes open to meet yours as he leaves a tangible mark on you, evidence that you’d let him this close without so much as a protest. 

“What are you doing?” you question finally, but it’s already too late. Withdrawing from you slightly, he presses soothing kisses to the newly forming bruise on your neck. It’s clear he’s ignoring your question, enjoying the look on your face as you watch him, taking in the size of the mark he’s left.

“Want another, my darling? They look perfect on you, don’t they?” he purrs, nuzzling at your skin. Your eyes skim your neck in the reflection, watching as he leaves several smaller marks on your skin. His hands venture just beneath your sweater once again, skimming the skin above your waistband. He looks completely engrossed in you and you can’t help but feel his admiration of your body pooling in your stomach. “Can I take this off of you?” he murmurs. You hesitate, watching him in the mirror. He looks up to meet your eye, grinning smugly as he notices your breath hitching. He pushes your sweater up slightly, a reminder of his question.

“Yeah,” you breathe. He’s tugging the sweater over your head in a fraction of a second, discarding it onto the sink counter. You avert your eyes from the mirror as your topless form comes into view, feeling weird to be looking at yourself like this. His hands snake worshipfully up over your stomach to cup your breasts. You make a tiny noise of pleasure as he does this and he grunts in response. He’s watching you reflection as he kneads at your soft flesh, continuing to shower your neck with kisses.

“Been wanting this more than you understand,” he mumbles against your ear. “Been thinking of you every moment since I got here,” he brushes his fingers over your nipples gently, making you gasp. “I’ve never felt so needy in my life,” One arm remains around you, cupping and kneading your breast, the other snakes down and starts to push down your sweats. The waistband is loose so they fall down to your thighs with minimal effort, he helps them the rest of the way down. “Step out,” he whispers gently, you do as you’re told and step out of them. He kicks them aside and presses his rock hard arousal against your rear, letting out a little hiss. His hands leave you just long enough for him to yank off his own clothes, seemingly with little regard for whether the garments survive this encounter. He presses back against you, working his thumbs into the sides of your panties. “Will you let me have you, my angel?” he exhales shakily, teasing his fingers against the lace edge of your panties, waiting for your permission. His angel, the words echo in your mind, they feel both enticing and decidedly dangerous in some way.

“Have me,” you whisper back, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His eyes look almost blackened with lust, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. He sighs in relief, bending you slightly against the sink counter, you prop yourself up on your hands as he presses desperate kisses between your shoulder blades, tugging your panties down slowly. Your face is dangerously close to your reflection and you try your best to avoid your own eye as he positions himself behind you, arms wrapping around you securely.

“Thank you, my angel,” he coos, pressing against your entrance gently and grunting softly at the feeling. His hands hold you in place as your body tries to twitch away at the sudden sensation. He shushes you gently as he begins to press forward into you, your back arches and your lips fall open in an elongated moan. His eyes are glued on your reflection as your face twists in pleasure, your body welcoming him in like a treasured guest. “Perfect,” he sighs. “You look and feel perfect,” he begins to rock his hips gently, watching your eyelids flutter and your teeth bite at your lower lip. “Look at you,” he murmurs, taking ahold of your chin and turning your head so you meet the eye of your reflection. “Look how well you’re taking me,” he grunts as his actions speed up, his hand moving down to your hip to keep you in place as he thrusts. You blush at the sight of yourself, looking utterly sinful. You’re flushed all down your neck, your skin glimmering with perspiration, your pupils blown. You jolt forward with each of his thrusts, glancing up at his intense expression in the mirror as he watches you like you’re a gift from heaven. He grips your hips tighter. “My perfect angel,” he growls, pulling you back against him at an increasingly rapid pace. You throw your head back for a moment and you feel his hand on the back of your head, tangling in your hair, angling your head back down. “Keep your eyes on you,”

“Michael…” you whine, half in embarrassment, half in pleasure. He just speeds up, pressing his chest to your back, leaning his chin on your shoulder. You watch each other's faces in the reflection, both twisted in ecstasy. He grunts louder and louder, his thrusts growing harsher as he approaches his peak. His hands grip you hard, leaving fingertip indents. You whine and cry in pleasure as he ravishes you, you see tears of pleasure forming in your eyes in the mirror and feel utterly pathetic, though unable to do anything about it. He leans forward to kiss at your cheek, muttering sweet praises against your skin that send your mind reeling.

“Come for me, my angel, show me how you’re feeling, you’re doing so well,” he coaxes in your ear. Suddenly, as if something has possessed you, you scream out, your whole body arching and shaking. You sob loudly as you come around his cock, making him fall apart in tandem. He bites down on your shoulder, growling and shivering furiously as he empties into you. You collapse forward, your cheek pressing against the cool surface of the mirror, giving your overheated face some much needed relief. You pant, trying to blink away the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes. He withdraws from you, but continues to hold you against his chest, kissing all over your shoulders. After a moment of composing himself he chuckles breathlessly against your ear. “I think the entire academy just heard you fraternising with the enemy,” he taunts, nipping at your ear.

“Oh God…” you hang your head, his lips follow you, pressing against your lips for the first time. You kiss back despite yourself, desperate now for his touch.

“I’m your God now, my sinful little angel,”

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xoxoxo

[venusxxlangdon]

Of Mice & Snakes - Part 3. The Snake

pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader x Tom Riddle 

warnings: crossover, third-person narration, smut (threesome, dp, spitting, dirty talk), angst, character death 

words: 3k  summary: AU where Michael Langdon, Tom Riddle, and fem!reader are caught in an intricate relationship where power and lust go hand in hand. Sometimes the only way to forget is to take the memories out of your head and store them in the Pensieve.

This is the final part. 

Part 1 Part 2 Chapter's soundtrack: Ludovico Einaudi - View From the Other Side 

“He had my back long enough to stab me right into it”  The snow was falling slowly, covering the roofs and the broad shoulders of the sleeping ogres that were supposed to keep the guard with the thick layer of silver blanket. Ever since the Dark Lord took the reigns, each village had ogres and werewolves as the night watchers in case any of the rebels decided to attack.

It was a deep night, and only a few lights in the giant mansion that sprawled out for several hectares were on. They were dim but more than enough to give a soft glow to this one particular spot in the living room.  

The spot by a fireplace. 

A big emerald-green velvet armchair was right in front of it. A huge pile of parchment paper was on the left-hand side. It was impossible to understand what was written on the notes because the handwriting was small, and most parts of the sentences were crossed out - it seemed as if whoever wrote them was in an incredibly frustrated state. Or furious. In life, very often these two feelings go hand in hand. 

The flames from the fireplace cast warm light onto the walls with intricate gobelens. One of them pictured a family tree titled “The Riddle Family”. Some of the spots were burnt out indicating that certain members were excluded for reasons only a pure-blood wizard would understand and consider fair. 

But nobody knew that the entire thing was fake. Tom Riddle came from a muggle family, and all these “excluded” members were nobody but imaginary people that he put on the wall to give the impression that he cared about the purity of his blood. 

He was sitting in the armchair with his long legs crossed. Pale, aristocratic hands rested neatly on the handles. His eyes were closed, his breath even. He was used to evenings like this. After all, he did not have anyone left. Death Eaters could not be counted on. They were just mere subjects, loyal to their Lord, but their loyalty was based on fear and, in some cases, pure insanity. They could not be trusted. But who could he ever trust? The one he considered his brother (not by blood, but by how close they were) betrayed him.

Tom squeezed his fingers around the handles, making his knuckles bleed white. No matter how many years passed, he could not forgive Langdon. He did not betray just Riddle. He betrayed their master plan, almost ruined everything, and over what? A fucking bitch. Just from the thought of it alone, he felt the burning rage boiling up in his stomach and rising to his throat, making him gulp heavily. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. As he stretched one of his arms, his fingers lightly brushed the pile of notes next to him. He pulled one. 

“Maybe you will wrap your mind around it one day, Tom. She loves both of us,” the scribed letters said. The rest of the paragraph faded with time, but Riddle knew it by heart. 

Y/N never loved any of them, and if Langdon had ever believed otherwise, he was a complete fool and had no right to be his ally in the first place, Riddle thought. She was scared like a little mouse that she was. It was her plan all along: to make them fall for her and then flee when the time came. She pretended to be by their side. Luckily Riddle made her give the unbreakable vow, and that was the only thing that saved his plan in the end. The little bitch could not escape the ancient magic and paid for her dishonesty. 

But she was useful. Thanks to Y/N, Michael and Tom did manage to access her father’s archive and find clues about the location of the Elder Wand. Riddle could feel the weight of it in his pocket. It was real and it brought him the power he had always lusted after. He did not even flinch when he had to point it at his friend, brother, and ally - Michael Langdon. By that point, he had already found out that Langdon was on Y/N’s side. 

He remembered vividly the animalistic roar “Avada Kedavra!” and how the green light coming from his wand pierced through the green flame of Langdon’s wand and then went straight to Michael’s heart. The blond wizard fell dead on the cold concrete of the Glenfinnan Viaduct that Hogwarts Express used to go over every year with the students on board. 

Only one Lord could exist. 

Riddle crunched the piece of paper in his hand and threw it into the fire; the flames swallowed it immediately. He could hear the ticking of the ancient clock. He glanced at it quickly. Midnight. 

“Actio”, he commanded and immediately, a small coffee table with little glass bottles appeared in front of him. Tom sat straight in his armchair and took one of the tiny bottles in one hand. With the other hand, he dived into the folds of his gown and pulled out his wand. He closed his eyes. Let’s see what memory he could get rid of that night. Riddle pointed the tip of the want at his temple and whispered:

“Pensieve”*

A thin silver string started to appear at the end of the wand, stretching out from his head. He pulled a bit more letting it come out completely, and then he stored it right into the prepared bottle. The silver ribbon peacefully rested inside the glass. He knew what it was about. 

“Who are your Lords, darling?” he whispered in her ear while holding her by the neck as she lay atop him with her arms around his torso. Her hair was a mess, mouth hung open as she succumbed to the pleasure of two thick cocks stretching out her abused holes. Riddle was on his back, penetrating her throbbing pussy, and Langdon was behind her stretching her tight ass. He could tell Y/N was on the verge of crying from how overstimulated she felt.

“We can’t hear you”, Michael panted and reached out to her head to yank it and make her face Riddle’s smirk. She winced and looked at the man in front of her through hooded eyes. She was so full. 

“You,” she answered barely moving her spit-slick lips, and her eyes rolled back at the particular hard thrust of Michael’s hips. Tom slid his hands down her body to grab her thighs and brought her dipper onto his cock. He could feel Michael moving inside of her too. Both of their cocks were slipping in and out with a filthy, sloppy sound. 

“Good girl”, Michael’s colossal palm landed on the delicate skin of her asscheek, leaving a red print. She moaned and involuntarily, out of pure reflexes, pushed herself back onto him. “There you go,” he praised and spread her wider, admiring how her asshole was taking him. The beads of sweat were collecting on his forehead, blond locks sticking to it. 

Riddle’s hands were on her breasts that were bouncing in front of his face. He squeezed her nipples tightly eliciting another loud moan from her. He passionately attached his mouth to hers, savoring every sound she made. He kissed her hungrily, drinking in the power he had over her. They had. Y/N was their little puppet. He could feel how Michael pulled out of her just to fill her back up. The sound of his balls slapping against her ass and their low moans was bouncing off the walls of the room. 

Tom’s lips moved down her neck, stopping at the junction that connected her neck and the shoulder and giving it a harsh bite. Hard enough to leave a dark-purple mark. He wanted to claim her in every way. She already had a black snake imprinted on her arm, she had invisible strings of the vow around her wrists, and she had bite marks and hand prints all over her body. 

“C’mon let’s move her”, he commanded to Michael and the blond man moaned disapprovingly. “Sharing is caring, Langdon”.  

Michael gave her a few more thrusts to enjoy the tightness of her ass and complied. Before he moved her on her back, he proudly spread her gaping hole to see the result of his work which felt incredibly humiliating to Y/N. She whimpered when both of the men quickly flipped her over and she ended up on her back with her legs spread and Riddle between them. His eyes were black now, two abysses staring into her soul. Her head was spinning. 

“What do you think, love?” he cooed, bringing his thumb to her lips and tapping on them ordering her to open her mouth. He leaned closer. She could feel his hot breath fanning over her face and the pressure of the tip of his cock at the entrance of her wet pussy. Her eyelids flattered and her cheeks turned scarlet when Riddle let the string of his saliva land on her tongue. “Take it.” 

With that command he snapped his hips, thrusting deep inside of her, making her back arch. He was pinning her to the bed with the weight of his body and she did not have any other choice but to keep taking his big, hard cock moving ruthlessly inside her velvet walls. 

“T-T-Tom”, she whimpered spreading her legs wider. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she extended her arms, sliding her palms down the silk sheets looking for Michael’s hand. She needed to squeeze it for support, to have something to hold onto. Langdon laced their fingers together and brought his face close to hers. 

“You look beautiful, darling”, he praised and reached his hand to her clit. His long fingers massaged firmly, sending bolts of pleasure down her spine. “Let him fuck you, be a good girl. You know you need to serve your Lords well, baby.” 

“Oh yes, such a good puppy,” Riddle muttered and closed his eyes, giving in to the pleasure of her pussy around him. So good. So tight. 

Michael’s plump lips met her parted mouth. He was kissing her lazily. He slid his tongue along her bottom lip and cupped her flushed cheeks. He brushed them with his thumbs almost lovingly. 

“Let him cum inside your pussy, baby”, he whispered, “and then I will fill your mouth, yeah?” 

As if she had a choice. She would do anything. She nodded and drew her knees to her chest allowing Riddle to go at a much deeper angle. He cussed and pushed onto her knees driving his cock in and out of her heat. His face was mere inches away from hers. He smelled like sweat and cologne. The suffocating smell of sex filled her nostrils. His hips moved at an animalistic pace, the muscles of his abdomen flexed with each thrust, and his groans indicated that he was close. 

“I’m gonna cum in her”, he panted and Y/N moaned at his words. Michael was still holding her hand, and when Riddle leaned closer and whispered, “Look at me”, all she could do was oblige. She looked at him with wide eyes feeling his cock twitching inside of her. She let out a long, low moan when after one last thrust a hot, sticky fluid spilled inside her pussy. She watched Riddle throw his head back in pure bliss, feeling his cock pulsing deep in her. She felt incredibly full. Everything was wet. When he pulled out, she winced at the stretch and from how messy it all felt. Thick drops of pearl-white cum leaked out of her folds right onto the silk sheets. 

“Keep your legs up”, Michael ordered. Y/N was in a trance. She could barely feel her legs, her heart was beating violently like a trapped bird in a cage, and her breath was still uneven. She saw Tom tiredly rolling over the other side of the bed leaving her at Langdon’s mercy. 

“Put your hands on your ass and spread your holes for me”, Langdon continued. She slowly cupped her asscheeks in her palms and very slowly parted them. It felt filthy. Her pussy quivered and pushed out another thick drop of cum. Good Lord. 

Michael reached his hand to gently tap her clit and collect some of the cum that Riddle left. He rubbed it between his long fingers and then smeared it around her tightened nipples. He grabbed his cock with his other hand and guided it into her mouth. 

“Make me cum”, his low voice sent shivers down her spine. Y/N did not have any energy in her left. She slightly turned her head, adjusting her position on the pillow to take his cock at a better angle. She parted her lips and took a deep breath. Michael did not have any patience for her to take her time and run the tip of her tongue along his head and then take it inch by inch. As soon as he felt the warmth of her mouth, he pushed his hips forward making her take it all. Y/N gasped and almost let her teeth scratch the sensitive skin. Langdon hissed and grabbed her by the hair, guiding her head. He held her in place while driving his cock in and out of her mouth. She could barely keep up with the pace, choking on the impressive length. 

“Just like that”, he approved. “Keep going.” He found particular pleasure in the noises her throat made each time he trusted into it. Her dripping saliva allowed his cock to glide easily. In and out. In and out. His eyes traveled down her body right to the spread pussy and ass that she still had on full display for him. With a low groan, Langdon pulled his cock out of her mouth and slapped her red cheeks with it. The girl was panting heavily. He was holding her by her neck as he kept rubbing the tip of his cock against her lips. 

“Good girl”, he murmured and slapped her one more time. “Stick your tongue out.”

He let go of her face but she still kept it close because she knew what was coming. Obeying to his request, Y/N took her tongue out and looked up at Michael. His nostrils flared, usually perfect locks were messy, and his broad chest was covered in sweat. She knew him so well by that time already. She could tell he was close just by the way his breath hitched. She watched him jerking himself off and the wild thought of how badly she actually wanted him to cum on her enveloped her mind. 

It was something in her eyes that could not be hidden. Something always about Michael that made her look at him in “that” particular way no matter what he and Riddle kept doing to her. Something Riddle never experienced. Something he hated the most and wanted to annihilate at its origin.

For a second, Tom Riddle wanted to break the glass with the string of memory inside of it. But instead, he squeezed it tightly in his palm and put it in the chest pocket of his gown. He will find a proper storage for this particular one. 

Suddenly a creaking sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. He smiled. He did not even need to turn his head to know what it was. 

“You are back my love,” Riddle smiled as the snake made its way to the armchair. Its long muscular body was strong and flexible. The snake wrapped its thick body around one of the legs and rested its giant scully head on Tom’s thigh. Its pitch-black eyes stared at him blankly. “Did you have a good hunt?”

The snake blinked. Tom’s fingers were drawing a lazy pattern on its head, it felt sleek and cool under his fingertips. How fascinating was the fact that once smart enough to come up with the plan to make fools out of the two most powerful wizards, this very head was now only capable of a primitive string of thoughts! It no longer had its identity, no recollection of the family she wanted to save so badly, no memory of Michael and him and what they used to do together, and most importantly, no memory of what she made Langdon feel. She was his loyal servant. 

“That is the price you paid, Nagini”, Riddle whispered, taking the snake’s head in his palms, his palms caressing the sides of it. He loved her new name. The name he picked for her many years ago. “Just like he paid his.” 

*In Harry Potter universe the memory extraction spell is unknown 

Author's note: I’d like to thank everyone who supported Part 1 and Part 2 of this series that I wrote 4 years ago (*whistling*). I read every single comment and ask you sent me.  Michael x reader x Tom pairing found its continuation in a plethora of drabbles and one-shots I wrote back in my active days on tumblr. The longer ones are included in my masterlist and the rest you can find in the tag #Michael x Tom x reader on my blog. Enjoy!

[aresthelostboy]

Requests

Rules:

No female reader

No female characters

This is all gay shit

Seriously, I won’t be answering shit like ‘x fem!reader’ or anything

Might do FTM reader

No NSFW

I do poly!couples (from the same fandom)

I do angst, fluff, suggestive, headcannons, imagines, fics and such

Fandoms:

Metal Family (Dee, Glam)

Tokyo Ghoul (Uta, Nishio, Juuzou, Shuu, Ayato)

Twilight (Carlisle, Jasper, Aro, Caius, Marcus, Emmett, Alec)

Vampire Diaries (Damon, Klaus, Elijah, Kol, Finn)

Horror (Predator, Michael, Ghostface (Billy and Stu), Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Deacon Frost, Eric Draven, Leatherface, Pyramid Head, Hannibal, etc.) If the character you want isn’t there, you can always request and find out.

The Boys (Homelander, Black Noir, Lamplighter, The Deep)

Kingsman (Agent Whiskey)

Creepypasta (Jeff the Killer, BEN Drowned, EJ, LJ, Jason the Toymaker, Bloody Painter, Ticci Toby, Candy Pop, etc.) If the character you want isn’t there, you can always request and find out

Resident Evil (Heisenberg, Leon Kennedy)

Spider-Man (Hobie, Pavitr, Miguel)

Call of Duty (Ghost, König)

American Horror Story (James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Dandy Mott)

Obey Me (Lucifer, Mammon, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Leviathan, Simeon, Diavolo, Barbatos)

Helluva Boss (Moxxie, Blitzø, Stolas, Striker, Fizzaroli, Asmodeus)

Other: Le Chiffre, Howl Pendragon, Jonathan Crane, SCPs, Billy Hargrove, Sally Face…

If a specific character isn’t here, please feel free to ask but be aware that I may either not know the character or dislike writing for them!

[razrbladekiss]

okkkkk this might be a strange request, but i vaguely remember you posting an ahs apocalypse inspired piece, and i just wonder if you can do one for joel? like… reader is one of cordelia’s witches, and joel is the michael langdon of the bunch. 👀 your old ahs shit was amazing, i CRAVE this. it doesn’t have to be smutty, just the visual of joel being literal satan is hot enough. 🔥

hey! oh, you’ve been here a very l o n g time if you remember all of that stuff 🫶🏻 but, anon, your wish is my command.

TREACHEROUS | Joel Miller

PAIRING: AHS AU antichrist!joel miller x witch!fem!reader

SUMMARY: joel is dead set on getting underneath your skin. you’re dead set on ripping his off. after the death of your supreme, you make it your mission to make joel miller pay for what he’s done.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: i’ve literally lifted THAT scene from ahs here but tweaked it so that joel is just a horny, evil lil antichrist. AHS APOCALYPSE SPOILERS (even though it’s literal years old.)🫶🏻. most character’s names have been changed for reasons. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. mentions of past sexual activities. lil bit of sexual tension. blood and blood loss. weapons. violence. some witchy magical shit. reader has hair long enough to push over her shoulder. not proof read, parts have been lifted from a previous unpublished work so sorrrrrry if there are little nicks. but enjoy, anon!

With Angelica, her downfall was predicted.

Whilst her powers had started to dwindle, to ebb away into something reminiscent of perpetual weakness, her expulsion into perdition was something that you had always predicted.

As much as you once admired your Supreme, she was a heathen. A wonderfully vindictive woman whose faculty had the potential to lay within the realms of moral righteousness, but instead nestled amongst decades of stewing villainy.

She was, by nature, evil. Completely and utterly freezing cold to the fucking bone. And you weren’t exactly sorry to see the back of her, then.

Angelica taught you a lot about the real world, how mortals viewed witches, and how warlocks had never seemed to be able to practice anything of upstanding value—which was remarkably rich, coming from her—but Sabrina was who truly bestowed any form of wisdom onto you.

She had always been the supreme, in your eyes.

Everything about the woman was completely and utterly indescribably perfect. Sabrina was the kindest, most adoring woman—let alone witch—that you had ever had the privilege of being in the mere presence of, and she could do no wrong, in your eyes.

So many sacrifices, so much she had lost to protect and care for her girls at Robichaux, and she had bounds and bounds to show for it.

Everyone passed into her care, each young woman that she was tasked with granting sanctuary to, had always walked away—or stayed—completely satisfied and ready to embark on their next endeavour with inexhaustible understanding of the powers that they beheld.

Sabrina was a perfect scholar, custodian, maternal figure.

And that was what maimed you.

“What’re you gonna do? Kill me?” Exhausted, you ask.

It’s a palpable fatigue, something that he can taste. Something that he’s feeding off because seeing you so forlorn, so hopeless is a notion so inexplicably delectable, Joel Miller struggles to reign in his lecherous urges.

“I’m fed up, Joel.”

“Oh, come on, cupcake. Don’t give in that easily.” He promises in that tone. That sweet, lustrous rhythm that’s dripping in an almost sickening sweetness. Saccharine, perhaps. “You’re more resilient than this. I know you.”

“You don’t know shit.” You defend. Snippy. 

“I know that you like sharp objects. And blood.” Joel twirls the blade—that Christine had stabbed him with some five minutes ago—between his thick, calloused fingers, and lets out a gentle hum. “You liked it when I choked and pounded you at the same time.”

Oh, Joel. Fuck—Joel.

You cringe at the thought. How he used to sneak into your room—through the fire escape next to your window—and fuck you senseless. How Joel would hold his hand over your mouth—still decorated with his spend and spit—and rut into your pussy, fast and hard. 

Many a night you would cry his name. Many a night Joel would stuff you full of his cock, and leave before you could wipe the tears from your eyes and cum from your stomach. 

And though you enjoyed it—at one very, very low point in your life—you shirk the notion. 

This is retribution. 

“The sex was good. But I’ve had better. With you, it was just stupid mistake, after stupid mistake. ” You snort a laugh. Histrionic, of course.

Joel gasps. He feigns offense, taking a step toward you for he knows that you’re lying. 

Nobody ever fucked you that good. 

“You’ve had better? All those nights were just…mistakes?” You nod. Joel licks his lips. “How come?”

“Because you’re the literal spawn of Satan, for fucks sake.” You spit, gesturing to his blood-sodden chest, hands, face. “You’re the antichrist, Joel, and you’re hellbent on destroying everything that anyone has ever loved, so why wouldn’t it have been a mistake?”

He just stands there with a small, sly smirk, dripping what seems like buckets of blood. 

“You killed everything.”

“I destroyed everything.” He corrects. “There’s a difference.”

He’s insufferable. 

You can’t believe that, once upon a time, you regarded him as high as what you did Sabrina. 

“You have killed Paris.” You ignore what he says. You’re the one walking toward him, now. “You killed my best friend, you killed Christine, and because of you—and whatever the fuck you did—my coven is dying!” 

Joel doesn’t care to figure out who is who in your little monologue. They were all just burdens, to him. Witches in his way from fighting the greater evil. 

“Baby—“

“Don’t you call me that, you bastard!”

Before he knows it, he’s being pinned against the stone-clad wall by a force so fervent, so unbelievably dominant, he struggles to comprehend that you’re the one behind it. 

This is so incredibly sexy. I wish I could just bend her over my fuckin’ knee and—

“Don’t look at me that way.” Your chest is puffed out a little bit, tits damp with blood and sweat, and Joel wants nothing more than to lick that crimson away from supple flesh. 

But he shrugs it off, hoping that he’s not appearing to be as desperate as he feels. 

“Sabrina’s favorite witch is fucking insane.” He muses, using his entire strength—every last morsel—to pull himself back to earth. 

Or, at least, to the ground. 

“Believe me, I am no match for you.” You pant, still spent. “You’re as unbalanced as they could ever possibly come.” 

Condescending, he tilts his head. “Are you flirting?”

“With you? Absolutely not.”

You take another step toward him, pushing maroon-coated strands over your left shoulder.

“With death?” You exert a soft, subtle smirk. “Always.”

“Angelica taught you well, hm?”

At that, you can find it in yourself to chuckle. Because you suppose that it holds some semblance of truth. 

Danger—the concept of fucking dying—hadn’t been much of a thought before you came face to face with your first supreme. 

You were once so mindful, so careful not to dance along the thin line separating life from death, and you’ve always been remarkably successful.

Up until today. 

“She really did.” With a sick, toothy smile, you confirm. 

Out on a complete limb and, with the power of telekinesis, you strive to snatch Joel’s weapon of choice from the confines of his fist. 

It happens too quickly. You don’t have enough time to calculate the angle with which you should catch the blade, and it cuts deep into your palm. 

You hiss at the blood loss, but you’ve got it. 

He licks his lips. 

“Angelica was a wonderful teacher.” Mimicking his earlier action, you skillfully spin the knife in your hand. “But Sabrina really taught me everything that I know.”

Joel snickers. It’s derisive. Cold. Seductive. 

“She warned me.”

“About what, baby?”

“You.” Without reluctance, you blurt. You’re mere moments away from lunging forward and slitting his fucking throat.

But you remain poised. You apply some equilibrium. Something that Sabrina had always ingrained into your mind.

“Paris did, too.” At that, Joel stills. 

What could Paris Montgomery possibly know about him?

“Well, it wasn’t so much a warning. More a divulgence of past activities.” You tease, watching the man start to fucking sweat.

Beads of perspiration fall from his temple to his cheek, glistening wickedly beneath the sparse light within the space. You notice it.

Is he getting turned on? Or is he shitting his pants?

“What you did to your poor grandmother, firstly.”

“I’d tread very carefully, if I were you.”

“Why? What’ve I got to lose now, Joel?” Your words are doused in venom, tongue blanketed with vitriol spite. You’re spitting his poison back at him.

Not many would be ballsy enough to contest him. To regurgitate his wickedness. 

But Joel’s baby is.

“She killed herself to get away from you—all the shit that you put that poor fuckin’ woman through—“

“I said enough!” He barks, stalking toward you. You can almost sense where it’s going. “Do not fucking talk about her.”

The two of you are toe to toe, now. Almost chin to chin. 

Plump lips smirk, raising the knife to rest over the placket of his shirt. Slowly, you lift it—glide it—toward his partly exposed chest.

“Why not?” Your qualm is tangled around a soft, dulcet whisper. Something that resembles comfort, almost. “You’re gonna kill me, anyway. So, what difference does it make—“

“All of the difference in the fucking world.”

You both still. Your arm drops, the blade resting against your side. Simply stunned.

“Sabrina.” Joel greets, stepping away from you. He makes his way toward the supreme, only stopping when he feels a hand tug him backward. He shrugs you off, though doesn’t dare to get any closer.

“Sabrina, I have this handled.” You—the youngest witch in the clan—plead, understanding what’s brewing.

What this means.

“Go back to Melissa.” Almost completely desperate, you state.. “She needs you—“

Sabrina’s gaze is penetrative. It seldom flickers away from Michael as you strive to reason with her. 

“She’s fine. Bloody, but fine.”

He snarls. He hadn’t succeeded with killing off the entire council quite yet.

But, with his rival before him, Joel cannot afford to waste any more of his most valuable time. 

“How did you think this would end?” Each syllable crushes you.

You can feel something ripping through flesh and bone as he shows absolutely no mercy.

“Prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win. Miss Supreme.”

Sabrina looks between you two, watching your wounds weep and heart visibly shatter within the confines of a wickedly palpitating chest.

“Not on your own.” She exerts confidently, about to drive her claws as deep as they could possibly go. “You’ve been led by the hand, coddled the entire way. By your father, the warlocks.”

With each flying comment, Joel’s blood begins to boil. It bubbles, sputters like wildfire. But he has to take it.

Listening to what she has to say is the very fucking least that he can do.

“I look at you and I don’t see a man. I see a sad, scared, pathetic little boy so pathetic he couldn’t even kill me with a thousand fucking nuclear bombs.” 

“But I never expected to.” Almost instantly, he declares.

The depletion, the absolute fatigue riddling their bodies is painfully evident to you as you can do absolutely nothing aside from watch—and wait—for the ending that you have so desperately tried to put off.

“Like a cockroach, I knew you’d survive the nuclear fallout. I wanted you to.”

His fists clench, rings scraping against bloodied and bruised palms. Your cunt throbs—remembering when his knuckles were deep inside of you—but it’s not the right moment.  

He makes you fucking sick, now. 

“And now I’m gonna have the satisfaction of watching you die, knowing you failed.”

“She has not failed.” You speak up.“She will never fail, either. And when she dies, her legacy will live on for fucking ever. Which is a hell of a lot more than what can and will be said for you.”

He turns his head to heed the snark, the sheer irascible complacency written on your beautifully withered completion, and scoffs.

“The world is over, sweetheart.” Joel tells you. “When Sabrina dies, then so do all of you other witch bitches—“

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Fed up of exhausting the same point over and over, Sabrina rasps. “Even now. You think there’s only winning and losing, success and failure.”

Tears begin to brew, to roll downwards and toward the apples of her cheeks.

“But failure is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope.”

Your breath hitches, rhythm becomes sporadic.

“You will get to watch me die.” Says the supreme while her voice cracks, and Joel Miller watches her begin to crumble from the inside out. 

He’s enjoying it too much.

“But you won’t find it satisfying.” Sabrina finishes, snatching the bloodied knife from you. 

Her throat closes up, heart slows down.

“Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion, motherfucker.”

And before you have time to wrangle your thoughts, to produce a reaction, you’re watching as your supreme—the one woman that has cared for you since you embarked on that beautiful spiritual journey at Robichaux—plunges the blade straight into her heart.

“No. No—“ Unable to produce anything aside from a mere whisper, you rasp. 

Joel is just as shocked. Devastated, perhaps. Because he isn’t the one driving a dagger into Sabrina’s chest, or ripping her head from its place on her neck. It’s her. Just how he had feared from the start.

She’s gasping for air, but there’s a smirk creeping toward her face as she stumbles backward—fist perpetually curled around the blade protruding from her chest. 

“Sabrina…” You mumble, breath breaking into a sob as your supreme—your best friend—mouths I love you before falling—flights—toward the ground.

“No!” Joel yells, sprinting toward the ledge. “Fuck!”

But then your eyes light up. 

“You were never going to get the last laugh, Miller.” 

“It isn’t over.” He pants. His chest heaves as he watches blood ooze from the body that lay atop the concrete ground. “It is far from fucking over.”

He turns on his heels to see you there in the doorway, draped in black, somehow even more vibrant than when you arrived today. Your skin gleams, it glows and you smile because you are certainly aware of what will happen over the course of the next sixty seconds.

Sabrina is dead, so a new supreme must rise.

“It’s over, Joel.” Your nails dance along the crimson jacket, inching closer to his throat. “You failed to execute whatever the fuck it was that you had planned, and now its over.”

You’re teasing as always, stifling a wicked little snicker.

Joel wishes that he could fuck the smile from your face one last time. And maybe he will. When you’re both rotting in purgatory for eternity. 

“We had fun though, don’t you agree?’

“I thought you regretted it?” 

“I have only one regret in this life.” 

Licking your lips, Joel’s eyes search your face for an answer.

“And, tell me, what would that be?” His habitual cockiness returns for one final jab, though he is simply no match for you, now.

Your telekinetic energy—ardent power—is being put to the test once more, summoning that fucking knife from its residual position lodged between Sabrina’s ribs.

It flies into your grip—by the handle, this time.

“Not trying to kill you sooner.” You snort, thrusting the overworked knife into the toughest, hardest part of his spine and he drops to the floor.

Blood pours from his back, saturating the already red-stained blazer, and you’re simply unable to do anything aside from laugh. 

Because this is the end. It’s all over and fucking done with, now. 

And though—once upon a time—you enjoyed fucking his brains out, watching him die a slow, painful, death—at your hands—is a lot more satisfying. 

Will he end up coming back? Who knows. With the antichrist, anything is possible. But for now, you’re reveling in the idea that you—a mere witch bitch—is the reason for Joel’s unruly demise. 

You can’t help smiling as you get to the ground—hands on your knees—and rasp; “I’ll see you in another life, baby.”

[american-horror-story-writer]

Heyyyy, I love your recent post! I was wondering if you could do some Micheal Addams work? There just isn't enough of micheal nor the Addams these days and i think they'd work great!

-🦇

I saw another person do some Micheal Addams work, but there posts were from 2020 and stuff. So if you'd like I could give you their @ but for now I will start working on Michael Addams stuff! Thank you anonn! 😊

[thethreeeyed-raven]

⋆♱ AHS ♱⋆

navigation

🕷️fluff | 🕸️angst | 🐈‍⬛suggestive | 🪦platonic

⋆♱ MURDER HOUSE ♱⋆

⋆♱ Tate Langdon ♱⋆

🕷️ • meeting him in the murder house | gn!reader • part two

headcanons

⋆♱ Violet Harmon ♱⋆

🕷️ • being her best friend | headcanons | x gn!reader

⋆♱ ASYLUM ♱⋆

⋆♱ Kit Walker ♱⋆

🕷️ • the first step | x fem!reader

🕸️ • it’s okay to cry | x gn!reader

🕷️ • 🕸️ • home | x gn!reader

⋆♱ COVEN ♱⋆

⋆♱ Kyle Spencer ♱⋆

🕷️ • party party | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Misty Day ♱⋆

🕷️ • listening to fleetwood mac with her | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Nan ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Queenie ♱⋆

🕷️ • being her best friend | headcanons | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Zoe Benson ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ FREAKSHOW ♱⋆

⋆♱ Dandy Mott ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Jimmy Darling ♱⋆

🕷️ • defending him | x gn!reader

⋆♱ HOTEL ♱⋆

⋆♱ James Patrick March ♱⋆

🕷️ • buying him a dog | headcanons | x reader

⋆♱ Tristan Duffy ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ CULT ♱⋆

⋆♱ Ally Mayfair-Richards ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Beverly Hope ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ Kai Anderson ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ APOCALYPSE ♱⋆

⋆♱ Cordelia Goode ♱⋆

🕸️ • as i watch you die | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Michael Langdon ♱⋆

🕸️ • qui totum vult totum perdit | x gn!reader

🕷️ • halloween party | x gn!reader

🕷️ • trick or treating | x gn!reader

🕷️ • bonfire night | x gn!reader

🕷️ • 5th of November | x gn!reader

🕷️ • new years | x gn!reader

🕷️ • valentines together | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Mr Gallant ♱⋆

🕷️ • being his best friend | headcanons | x gn!reader

⋆♱ 1984 ♱⋆

⋆♱ Bobby Richter ♱⋆

🕷️ • 🕸️ • 🪦 • finally | x sibling!reader

⋆♱ Xavier Plympton ♱⋆

🕷️ • i cared too much that it killed me | x gn!reader

⋆♱ DOUBLE FEATURE ♱⋆

⋆♱ Austin Sommers ♱⋆

🕷️ • 🕸️ • saving you from the pale people | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Harry Gardner ♱⋆

nothing yet

⋆♱ TB Karen ♱⋆

🕷️ • inspiration | x gn!reader

⋆♱ Valiant Thor ♱⋆

nothing yet

@lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom • @fangsp1der-2099 • @knight-of-flowerss

[velangdon]

AMATIVE → Michael Langdon Fanfic x OC Fem!

❝In a world where the lives of millions people are at stake, love and desire do not always go hand in hand. Humanity is a ticking time bomb, but fate is a whimsical lady who decides to bring together two souls with beliefs and convictions that are diametrically opposite yet strangely similar: Vitney Lacey and Michael Langdon.

Vitney and Michael try to run away from their own feelings, but the way they see life has no comparison. They are searching for a safe place away from each other, but they don't realize they are running in the same direction. And the refuge they are seeking is the same for both of them.❞

→ CHAPTER 1

[badboyzbingobrunch]

Gorgeous 18+ (part 2)

Hawthorne Michael Langdon x Fem witch reader

( enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary:

After the announcement that a warlock will be completing the 7 wonders, both the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, and Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies try to put up an appearance of peace between the rival schools. This new chapter of peace between witches and warlocks has a potential to pave the way for the future of magic, but when Hawthorne’s “Wonder boy” is found out to be a cheat by (y/n) she fights to make him reveal himself.

******************************************************

   “I’m glad you are awake. I brought these for you.” William lifted a small bouquet of yellow roses in a clear vase. “William, what are you doing here?” Ms. Benson and Cordelia looked to each other before Cordelia asked,  “You two know each other?” I nodded and gestured for him to enter. “We are acquainted, yes.” William handed me the flowers and nodded in acknowledgment to my supreme and instructor. “How do you know where his room is?” Williams hand rested on the back of his neck anxiously. “His room is across the hall from mine. We often bump into one another. He’s been pretty much confined there since the incident.” 

           I handed the roses to Cordelia and grabbed ahold of William’s hand before pulling him into the hallway. “Slow down! You’re going to pull my arm off!” I stopped and released his wrist. “I’m sorry. It’s just important. He was punished for no reason!” William nodded in understanding. “I get that, but you already told them that he didn’t do anything, why do you have to tell him yourself?” He’s right. Why do I need to be the one to tell him, he’s bound to find out, but for some reason I needed to see him. Why? “It’s okay, follow me. I’ll take you.”  

           William’s upbeat attitude soothed my troubled mind. His hand rubbed soothing circles on my back. “Thanks, William.” He smiled softly. “Billy. My friends call me Billy.” I smiled in return at the sudden warmth in my chest of being considered his friend. “We’re friends now?” He nodded and pulled his hand from my back into his pants pocket. “That’s right!” Billy, huh? He was sweet. Handsome too. The way his chocolate eyes sparkled when he saw me. I wonder what he thinks about me? I quickly pushed those thoughts away. I was only going to be here for a couple of weeks. I already lost 2 days. 

           Billy stopped at a large wooden door. “This is him. Do you want me to stay?” I shook my head. “I should be okay. Thank you.” He gestured with his thumb behind him. “Okay, I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.” I thanked him once more and watched him disappear into his room. I took a deep breath and gently knocked on Michael’s door. I could hear shuffling from the other side and within seconds the door opened. Michael stood before me. Thick golden hair disheveled, and his usual tidy uniform was replaced by a black tee shirt and black ripped jeans. His face shifted from irritation to rage when he realized it was me. “Come to rub my nose in it?”

******************************************************

Michael POV:

         “What exactly did you tell them? Because there are a lot of rumors going around?” (Y/n)’s brows furrowed in contemplation. “The truth, what did you hear?” Her voice was defiant and proud like she couldn’t believe what I was telling her. “Well..” I started as I walked around her. “Some people have been saying that I put a sleeping hex on you.” She scoffed and gestured to herself. “Do I look like the victim of a hex to you?” I have a feeling she doesn’t want to hear how she looks to me.  

         I carelessly brushed a strand of hair that was out of place back over her shoulder. She started to shrink under my curious gaze. My tongue moved to moisten my suddenly dry lips. She watched this action before looking away and swallowing hard. Well, what do we have here? Pink cheeks, nervous fidgeting, refusing to look at me, I think she might like me. Something about this squared my shoulders with pride. I wonder if I can make her forget her  pretentiousness. Or maybe I can use it to play with her. “Others are saying that you were so afraid of me that you fainted.”  

        She rolled her eyes and once more dramatically gestured to herself. “If I’m so afraid of you, why would I be here?!” Got her. I lifted my arms in an exaggerated stretch and smirked as her eyes immediately went to the small patch of skin revealed by my tee shirt lifting. This is too easy. “That reminds me, why are you here, (y/n)?” I lowered my voice just a fraction and the effect was perfect. Her chest rose sharply as I spoke her name barely above a whisper. “I would have been alerted that I was no longer being punished for a crime I didn’t commit, but you wanted to do it. Alone. Why?” Her lip trembled slightly. Was she going to cry? Did I go too far with my teasing?  

        I was close to apologizing when she locked eyes with me again “I don’t really know, you were the first person I wanted to see when I woke up.” Her confidence caught me off guard. I backed up a fraction as I contemplated what she had just confessed. Does she even know what she just said? She must have, right? I mentally cursed myself as I felt my cheeks warm. “Sorry, I’m gonna go. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t get you into trouble on purpose. Bye!” She suddenly left me alone with my thoughts as she ran out of my room and down the hallway. Cute.

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(Y/n) POV

         I have never been more embarrassed in my entire life! Why did I act like that! He’s totally playing with me, and I let him get under my skin!  I ran straight to my room. “What’s wrong with you?” Amber was visibly annoyed by my sudden burst into our room. “Sorry. I just….embarrassed…ya know?” She rolled her eyes and returned to applying her makeup. “No.” There was a sudden knock on the door which startled Amber into smearing her eyeliner. I tried to suppress a smile. Why does she have such a bad attitude today? She didn’t even have anything to say about the fact that I’d been asleep for two days in the infirmary.

         I opened the door revealing Michael in his usual tidy uniform. “You change fast.” His breath hitched only a fraction at my comment. “Sorry, did that sound weird?” Amber was suddenly beside me. “Well, well, (y/n). Aren’t you going to introduce me to your very handsome friend?” Michael suddenly looked from me to her with a tight smile. “My name is Michael Langdon, you should leave.” I opened my mouth to object to his rudeness, but Amber seemed to be under some sort of influence. “Of course. I’ll be going.” Her voice was monotone. Michael moved out of her way and she left. “Why did you do that? It’s rude to just use your magic on people like that!” He shrugged before gesturing inside. “I was practicing for the 7 wonders, May I come in?” I stood firmly in his way. “Why?”   

           He shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. “I need your help with magic.” I raised a skeptical brow and crossed my arms. “Why would you need my help?” He bit onto his bottom lip and sighed in defeat. “Because I put way too much into my spells and I always end up exhausted. I need your help learning self control… Please?” My chest fluttered at his soft tone. He was really self conscious about this. “Okay.” I stepped to the side and allowed him into my room. To my dismay he immediately began exploring and touching everyone’s things. “Which bed is yours?” I took a seat in the middle of the floor. “None of your business, now come here.” He pointed to the bed behind me. “It’s that one. I know it.”  

          He was correct, but I kept my face unreadable. “Michael~” He sighed in defeat and sat in front of me crossing his long legs as he did so. “You are all business, miss (L/n).” I nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah.” He laughed softly at my comment. I admired the way his stone face came to life when he smiled. “You don’t need to be so serious.” I gestured to him. “What about you? You are so serious.” One part of the rumor was true. He did scare me when he shouted in the classroom. Seing him relaxed like this, I wouldn’t believe he was the same person. “Why did you get so upset before?” He raised a curious brow waiting for me to clarify. “When I said you have nothing to prove.” He nodded as he understood what I was asking.  

         “You have no idea how much pressure is on me to perform well and learn fast. My father..has plans for me.” Is he not dead? Why would he need a summoning circle if his father isn’t dead. Thoughts raced around my mind about witch unions with demonic spirits resulting in powerful children to keep their bloodline strong. “Your father’s a demon.” 

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Michael POV

           How could she assume something so close to the truth? I have told her absolutely nothing! I wanted to run. She noticed my discomfort and rested a warm hand onto my knee. “I’m sorry, it isn’t my business. You seem like you would like to keep your personal life private.” I relaxed under her touch. Did she mean that? Did she really not expect answers from me? Everyone expects so much from me. “How did you know my father wasn’t a warlock?” She shrugged. “Billy said that you contact him with summoning circles and he assumes that your dad is dead, but you just confirmed he was alive. It’s pretty common for witches from powerful bloodlines to couple with demons in order to keep their lines powerful. I just put the pieces together.” I suddenly couldn’t shake the thought of if she were one of those witches. Could she know what I was and still want me? Did she crave power like those witches did. “Would you couple with a demon for power?”  

         She choked on something. Whether it was saliva, air, or her own embarrassment, she couldn’t stop coughing. “What?” Heat rushed to my cheeks as I repeated myself. “Would you have sex with a demon in order to gain power?” She shook her head, and my stomach tightened in an unfamiliar sensation, was I disappointed? No I was familiar with that feeling. This was new to me. “I would have to really like someone to let them into my bed. Plus, it wouldn’t give me power, only give me a powerful child.” A small flicker of hope washed my discomfort away. She didn’t say that she wouldn’t let a demon into her bed, just that she had to really like them.   

         A sudden thought of jealousy plagued my thoughts and washed away my short lived hope. “Who is Billy?” She pointed to me. “Your dorm neighbor “Billy Banks.” Realization finally overcame me. She was talking about that twiggy boy who’s room is across the hall from mine. “William… How do you know him?” Her lips were plump from her anxious habit of biting them, and at my question they pulled into a smirk. “Why? Jealous?” A single beat didn’t even pass before I answered. “Yes.” 

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(Y/N) POV

        I shivered from the intensity of his ocean eyes and sudden confession. The room was suddenly cold but my body felt like it was on fire. I wanted to move but his gaze pinned me in place daring me to react or move. I looked nervously at my hand still resting on his knee. His head tilted to the side as he watched me. He made no move at all. It was like a game of chess and it was my move. I suddenly swallowed a lump in my throat. “He’s a friend.” No reaction at all. What did I even want from this? I wanted Michael to move, to do anything to break this tension between us. “(Y/n)...” his voice was rough and low. He spoke my name like it was a flower. Something precious. “Michael?…” I didn’t notice when we started getting closer.  

        “I want to kiss you…” Oh my… his voice was nothing but a breathy whisper that made my entire body ache. “Please do…” I expected him to suddenly smirk or tease me, but the tension only continued to build. “I’ve never done it before… will you show me?”  He couldn’t be serous. I leaned back to see his face still held that intensity. Maybe he was. I was breathless and couldn’t find the words to say okay, so I nodded and moved my hands to rest onto his shoulders. I liked this side of Michael. He seemed so sweet. “Close your eyes.” My voice was weak. Just barely over a whisper and it showed how nervous I was. Michael’s eyelids closed slowly displaying his reluctance to look away from me.  

           Once they were closed I moved closer and my hands raised to cradle his head while I tilted it up to meet my trembling lips. He inhaled sharply at the contact. His lips were warm and soft and I started moving mine against them. His hands held me firmly against his chest as he began to reciprocate. He couldn’t possibly be new at this. Kissing him felt so right. I could feel an ache between my legs and I absentmindedly started to move my hips as the kiss deepened. I couldn’t control the moan that slipped past my lips and into his mouth. My tongue teased his bottom lip as I was more than eager to taste him. He parted his lips for me, and I slipped inside. He was very new to this. He tentatively began to explore my mouth with his tongue and moved me onto my back as he grew more comfortable.  

           He pulled away and looked down at me. His hair was once more disheveled, his pupils were blown until they swallowed the beautiful blue. He pulled his tie down a fraction to make it easier for him to breathe and I felt very self-conscious of my own position sprawled out beneath him. He was between my legs already with my skirt slipping up my thighs. He was shaking with his hands on either side of my head. “Michael…” He closed his eyes and groaned at the sound of my voice. “Please don’t say anything… I need to calm down.” Why? “Do you want to stop?” His eyes snapped open. Instead of his pupils covering his Iris his entire eye was black resembling his demon heritage. “It’s okay. I’m not afraid of you.” He scoffed softly as he tried to control his heavy breathing. “You should be. If you had any idea what I wanted to do to you, you would be.”  

          I lifted my hand against his straining erection resulting in a strangled moan falling from his lips as he fell forward. “I’m not stupid, Michael. I know what you want to do to me. Have you ever… before?” He shook his head as I continued to rub my thumb against him. “I can help you. If you want?” He pressed his forehead against my shoulder as I started stroking him with my whole hand. “Have you ever..?” I bit onto my lip as I contemplated what to say. In my experience guys didn’t like it when girls have been with other guys, but I can’t lie to him.

         “Once, but it was a while ago, and I didn’t really want it. I just didn’t want to be a virgin anymore.” I tried to push back the memories, but luckily Michael pulled me into the present here with him his unnatural eyes looking into mine. “Do you want THIS?” I nodded slowly. “Very much, yes.” He placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “Then tell me what I need to do.” I looked over to my bed. “Let’s move to the bed. As much as I want you, the floor still isn’t how I want you to experience your first time.” His eyes started to shift back to their magnificent blue irises. “Are you here with me?” He nodded and placed affectionate kisses along my jaw and collar bone. “You’re really sweet, (y/n). Thank you for thinking of me, but I also want your first time with me to be perfect.”  

         He reluctantly pulled away from me and helped me to stand. “Which bed is yours? Or should I just pick one and hope for the best?” His lips tickled my ear as he spoke making me laugh and shiver from the sensation. “You guessed right earlier.” His tongue darted out to wet the corner of his mouth. “I knew it.” He picked me up so suddenly that I squeaked. “I thought you were an angel? Are you a mouse now?” I couldn’t contain my laughter at his playful tone. He placed me down on the bed flat on my back and I sighed in relief when his lips began kissing me tenderly. My own lips chased after his when he suddenly pulled away. “What do I do now?” anything you want to me. “It helps if you make sure I am ready for you first.” His brows furrowed as he examined me trying to understand what I meant. “You remember how I was stroking you?” He nodded slowly. “Well, you can touch me too. Girls become wet when we want sex. We also become looser when aroused, but you can make sure I am stretched enough to handle you.” his brows furrowed together as he took in this information, but he remained irritatingly still. The more time passed the more desperate I became. “Michael, please just touch me.” My voice came out as a soft whine that caused his eyes to darken. “I like that sound.” 

       I grabbed his hand and slipped it into  my panties. “I will make it more if you touch me like this.” His nimble fingers explored my aching vulva, and as his middle finger teased my entrance I whimpered. “Please, Michael.” His lips pressed against the side of my neck as he gently pushed his finger inside of me. “You are very wet. You must really want this huh? Tell me how much you want it?” He began moving his finger in and out as he experimented with the right movement and tried different angles. “I want this so badly, Michael. You can stretch me more with another finger. Once you can fit about three fingers in me I will be ready for your cock.” He quirked a brow at that. “Cock?” I frustratingly reached down to show him what I meant. “This.” He groaned at the sudden contact and awarded me with another finger inside my soaked hole. “This is going to go inside of me, and then I’m yours.” 

      His hips bucked at my words. “Mine? Do you mean it? You will be mine?” I nodded eagerly. “Yes, Michael. All yours.” One more finger stretched me. I gripped his forearm as he curled the fingers inside of me earning a sharp moan.He suddenly groaned in irritation and looked down at me apologetically. “You are going to hate this, but we have to stop.”   

        I sat up suddenly worried. “Why, what’s wrong?” He slipped his fingers out of me and headed into the bathroom and returned with a warm wet washcloth and began cleaning the mess between my legs. He leaned in for one more kiss then adjusted himself and tidied his uniform. “The grand chancellor is on his way with the supreme.” He helped me onto my feet and tidied my hair and uniform before taking a seat onto the floor. I quickly placed candles around him and he began holding them in front of him to light them with his mind but they weren’t lighting. “I usually use my blood to light them.”I was surprised that he couldn’t complete such a simple task the traditional way. “You can’t light them this way?” He sighed  in exaggerated irritation. “What do you want from me? I am obviously struggling! That’s why I came to you in the first place!” Michael winked as a knock sounded at the door. I quickly opened it revealing the two people that Michael said were on their way. “(Y/n), what are you two doing in here?” Cordelia asked and examined Michael as he lit the candle with his mind. “I did it!” The grand chancellor spoke next. “Are you helping him practice the 7 wonders?” 

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

it’s been well over a year since i posted my writing in the ahs fandom. and, after a bit of searching the tags, i realized that the activity for michael langdon (in particular) has drastically decreased since i was last here

that being said, i have a couple stories that i never got around to finishing, as well as two series i left on hiatus. i, for sure, want to finish the series but let me know which one-shots you’re interested in. i would prefer to create stories that others are going to read and not just me

p.s. check out my other writing here and here (primarily michael langdon but also xavier plympton, duncan shepherd, and jim mason)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬:

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧:

✿ class reunions are overrated || outpost!michael

you think class reunions are overrated but a series of events following a certain blonde friend change your mind

✿ it’s called magic, darling || dilf!michael x teacher!reader

all the teachers have a crush on the hot dad with the adorable daughter but he only has his eyes set on one

✿ you’re not my friend

you and michael have to work together on a new project. michael is used to everyone falling at his feet, but he’s in for a rude awakening you could give zero fucks || inspired by therefore i am - billie eilish

✿ how did we get here?

you watch as michael changes into someone he’s not, leaving you questioning your relationship || inspired by decode - paramore

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬:

✿ no body, no crime feat. detective!duncan shepherd || preview here

the good detective comes to you with a mystery he thinks he’s solved, only to discover just how wrong he is || inspired by no body, no crime - taylor swift

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬:

✿ a helping hand || fem!reader, set in the outpost

your meeting with langdon takes an awry turn when he brings up something from your past

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

✿ 1984 x Coven x Apocalypse crossover || fem!reader, implied!poc

the year is 1984, you’re on the road with your cousin and everything seems to be going well. however, it all starts going to shit as soon as you set foot in that camp

chapter 1: the start of a wonderful summer | chapter 2: what donkey? | chapter 3: cece and freddy

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚