#hawthorne!michael langdon smut

[ahsbitch]

Something Strange In The Air-Hawthorne!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 7162

Summary: Michael will be staying at Miss Robichaux’s for a few months leading up to competing against the Reader in the Seven Wonders Test. 

Warnings: NSFW, cursing, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, reader blacks out, also there’s a snake, if you’re scared of snakes maybe skip down to the last section bc pretty much all the others involve a snake, and a snake bite, Hawthorne!Michael deserves his own warning, yeah, also this is very much not proofread so, be prepared for that

A/N: This is written in honor of @guiltyfiend bc, you right, I think everyone wants to dom Hawthorne!Michael a little bit. This took me forever to write and is stupidly long (we love waxing poetic for no reason) but I hope y’all like it! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something strange in the air. 

There was always something strange in the air, of course. Strange was probably too subjective, anyway. You’d never quite managed to find a place where the air was simply air, and in a city as electric as New Orleans, at a school as volatile as Miss Robichaux’s, there was always something prickling you, needling its way through your veins. It was why you took the time to meditate in the first place, to give you a chance to sort through it all, when you didn’t have to deal with physical world interrupting, when it was simply you and your mind and the universe playing a game of chicken, seeing which would bow to which, in the end. 

But there was something that was a different kind of strange today, something that you hadn’t ever felt before.

No, you’d felt it before, you certainly had, but something you’d never felt quite so strongly, that was it. 

It was a deep, poignant, throat catching sense of doom. 

A hum rippled through the air, someone was taking a deep breath, and you knew in your mind that they were about to call out to you. 

“Y/N,” It was Zoe, and there was a grit in her voice hidden so deep she probably wasn’t even aware that she was already annoyed, “The warlocks are here!” 

Yes, that was it. That was the presence. The warlocks were here, and more importantly, Michael Langdon. The others had known the sense of doom too, the Supreme Cordelia had even had a vision about it. Cordelia was in fact probably the only person who felt the doom in a similar way to how you did, with her prophetic powers. The others felt it because it was so strong, but you were doubtful that it overwhelmed them like it did you, that they felt it so deeply they could practically taste it. 

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that now, you needed to go meet this mysterious Boy Wonder that had made some of the women you respected most in the world, leaders in your coven, shake in their boots. 

You opened your eyes, finally, your head tilted back to look at the sky. After a moment, you slid down the steepled roof of the school, leaping nimbly to the nearest tree, scampering to the ground as quickly as you could. You took a step, but something squishy was under your foot, and you jumped slightly as you heard a loud hiss. 

“Fuck,” You muttered to yourself, kneeling down, coming face to face with a snake, coiled back in preparation to strike, white mouth opened wide. You waved your hand in front of it, once, and as you watched your magic flow a sense of calm through the snake, you reached out to let it sniff you, smiling at it gently, “Hello, little friend. What are you doing so far from the water?” 

The animal flicked its tongue out twice, slowly bringing its head back down, touching its face to your hand gently.

“I like you,” Moving slowly, you picked the snake up, looking levelly into the slitted eyes, “You wanna stay with me for a bit?” 

The cottonmouth raised and lowered its head, and you pulled your hood back to rest it gently inside, the snake nestling instantly into the fabric. 

With that, you hurried to the front of the school, where you saw four men and  five women waiting for you. 

The women, you knew. Cordelia, the Supreme, stood at the head of the line, her shoulders rolled back. Next to her was Myrtle Snow, then Zoe, and next to her were Madison and Queenie, the witches that Michael had rescued. 

The men, you didn’t know, but in an instant you recognized which one was Michael Langdon. 

He was beautiful, with fluffed, golden curls, piercing blue eyes, a cherubic face that held a smile so lovely most people would probably miss the sneer holding it up. He wore the Hawthorne uniform, which you’d only seen in photos, a black bow tied at his throat, his jacket thrown over his shoulder. 

They had already made introductions, it seemed, all turning to watch you approach. 

“There you are,” Cordelia gave you a small, reassuring smile as you moved to stand beside her, “Gentlemen, this is Y/N Y/L/N, one of our brightest witches, who we believe may be the next Supreme. Y/N, this is John Henry Moore, Behold Chablis, Grand Chancellor Ariel Augustus, and Michael Langdon.” 

You nodded confidently, smiling  at John Henry Moore as you shook his hand, a slightly smaller smile at Behold Chablis, your face dropping all emotion as you shook hands with Ariel Augustus, almost coughing as you were hit with a rush of negative energy. 

“Did you just fall from a tree?” Ariel questioned, gripping your hand tightly. 

You concentrated on making yourself smile again, and once you had a grin securely in place you shrugged, “I jumped, actually. I was on the roof, but jumping straight off the roof seems like a good way to end up injured, and I don’t like to transmutate immediately before and after I meditate.” 

“Why were you on the roof?” John Henry Moore asked, looking amused. 

You almost responded, but Behold spoke before you could, “Didn’t she just say? She was meditating.” 

Myrtle moved behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “Our dear Y/N is very sensitive to the vibrations of the universe. I believe it’s what makes her so good at playing my theremin. She meditates to sort the different callings that pull at her.” 

Nodding, you turned to the mysterious Michael Langdon, watching him. He stared back, cocking his head to the side, and after a moment he extended his hand. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” He said coolly, his voice strangely melodic. 

You shook firmly, not releasing when the shake was done, not intending to fully end the shake until he moved to end it himself, “Hello, Boy Wonder. It’s nice to- no, actually it’s not particularly nice to meet you. But I’m happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard lots of stories, and I’m grateful for what you’ve done for our coven by returning Madison and Queenie to us.”

His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to object before suddenly jerking his hand back, frowning, “I’m sorry, but what is that?”

What was he talking about?

A slight hiss next to your ear explained it. The snake had crawled up to your shoulder, and you glanced to see that it was looking at the Grand Chancellor. It seemed that the snake didn’t trust Ariel Augustus either. 

Ariel jumped, staring, his hand raising up and mouth opening, and you could tell that some type of spell was on the tip of his tongue.

“No,” You snapped, reaching a hand up to the snakes head, and Ariel stumbled backwards, pushed back by magic that you hadn’t even meant to send out, “Sorry. It’s a snake. A cottonmouth, although I’ve never seen one this far from water. I just found him. Stepped on him, actually, although he didn’t take it too personally. I mean, he almost bit me, but I wouldn’t have particularly blamed him if he did, and after I calmed him down with a little charm he seemed happy to come with me. I’d like to keep him,” You turned away from the warlocks, glancing at Cordelia, “May I? I’ve already thought of a name for him.”

Madison, Queenie, and Zoe had all stepped away from you, anxiety thrumming through the air from their direction, but Myrtle chuckled, and Cordelia nodded, something inquisitive just behind her eyes, “You may, so long as you take good care of him, and so long as your new roommate doesn’t mind.” 

You whipped back around to Michael, beaming, “What do you think, Boy Wonder? Can Richard stay with us?” 

A deep frown etched into his features, which he looked annoyingly pretty in spite of, and he turned to Cordelia and the warlocks, “What does she mean?” 

“We’re happy to have you staying with us for the next few months leading up to the Seven Wonders test, but there is currently an overflow of witches. Every room is currently occupied, some by multiple girls,” Zoe stepped in to explain, “Y/N had space for a roommate. I’m surprised that the Grand Chancellor didn’t tell you.” 

Ariel shrugged, mumbling something about it not seeming important, and Michael looked at you, horrified, as you slung an arm around his shoulder, “I probably could’ve swapped around with someone, but I thought it’d be fun if we bunked together. Give us a chance to get to know each other better, y’know? So c’mon, Mikey, can we keep the snake?”

“Do not call me that,” He snapped, shrugging you off of him and adjusting his collar, “I don’t care about the snake. I don’t like you.” 

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry,” Blowing a kiss in his direction, you whispered a celebration to the snake before turning back to your sister witches, “Let’s give them a tour!” 

You were pleased with this interaction. He was taken aback by you, and you could tell just from a single glance that Michael was not one who was easily taken aback. His energy shifted, something hard to determine just under the surface. You were curious to see what you could learn about him, before the two of you competed against each other during the test of the Seven Wonders. 

Alongside that was the strong feeling that at some point you would either fuck him or beat him up, and you found that you were also curious to see which it would be. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Michael Langdon was an asshole. 

You’d managed to catch him by surprise the day you’d first met him, to get him to stumble, but by the time you’d walked through the front door of the school he had found his composure, and you hadn’t managed to see him without it since then. He was always well put together. 

Alongside being an asshole.

The other witches in your coven were finding themselves swayed by him, you could tell. They didn’t want a male Supreme, but they were fading into his easy charm and good looks. Most spent their time flirting with him, and he seemed incredibly smug at all the attention. They didn’t seem to mind how clearly indifferent he was to them, not particularly harsh, but also never making an  effort to be nice, either. 

The only person he actively disliked? You. 

You couldn’t blame him, of course, but he was a huge pain in the ass. 

For example, he was stealing your study room. 

There were several areas in the school where students could study, of course. Most of the girls just did it in their rooms, and there was one room at the back of the house that was your favorite, holding a large table with bookshelves on either side and a large picture window opposite the door. You were the only one who used it, because there were nicer ones with tables that didn’t have splinters and light bulbs that weren’t constantly flickering no matter how often they were changed. 

And then Michael Langdon showed up, and started hogging the room.

It wasn’t as though you really needed the full study room to yourself, of course. But he took up so much space. 

He spread books along the entire table, and he always used his magic to adjust the lighting and change the temperature. 

“Boy Wonder,” You sighed one day, about a week and a half after his arrival, “Can you please give me some space on the table?”��

Michael glanced up at you, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips although he kept the rest of his face neutral, “What’s wrong, little witch? Are you mad that I beat you in here for once?”

“I’m mad that you take up all the room,” You snapped, “And that you’ve made it fucking freezing in here.” 

“I can make it snow, too. Wanna see?”

You kinda did, actually, but you weren’t going to tell him that. 

“No, I want you to put the temperature back so it’s warm enough that I can’t see my own breath. I can literally see the heat waves rolling off of you, Boy Wonder,” And you could, and it was really fucking weird, in a very interesting sort of way.

 Still not bothering to turn to you, Michael shuffled his books around until there was a new one in front of him, “Little witch, why do you think I’d give a fuck what temperature you want it to be?”

“Because, Boy Wonder,  Richard can’t handle this cold,” You gestured to the snake who was wrapped around your shoulders, shivering along with you. 

Shrugging, Michael stood up finally, walking over to you and reaching a hand out. You stared for a moment, slowly reaching your own out and pressing your palm to his, and the two of you stared at each other for a solid minute and a half, his hand searing hot against your own cold palm, and when he finally pulled away he raised a curious eyebrow at you, “I was reaching for the snake.” 

He still wore that ridiculous fucking Hawthorne uniform, and looking at him in it made you wonder once again how well you would fare in beating him up. 

“Oh. Shit, sorry,” You said hurriedly, pulling Richard off your shoulders and down around your arm, but then you paused and looked at Michael, your voice heavy with suspicion, “Why do you want him?” 

“I’m warmer than you. He can hang out with me and you can go study in our room. Or you can take him back to the room and study with in there with him. Either way,” He said simply, as though you were a bit stupid for not knowing that already.

Glaring, you took a step closer to him, trying your best to be intimidating, “I can’t go study in our room, actually, because your shit is all over my desk, too. And I don’t want Richard to spend all day stuck in the room. He likes going other places. Just make some damn space.” 

Michael took two steps forward and suddenly your back was against the wall. He looked closely at you for a minute, and then he reached his hand out again, drawing his thumb across your lower lip, “Why do you always wear lipstick?” 

“What?” You stared up at him, dumbfounded. 

“You wear lipstick a lot,” Michael pulled his hand away, glancing at the residue left behind on his thumb, and then turned it back to you, “I’m curious why. Can you get this for me?”

“What?”

Rolling his eyes, Michael gripped your chin, pushing his thumb against your lips until they parted. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and you closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to concentrate on what the actual hell was happening. 

It wasn’t even lipstick, it was tinted lip balm. 

His energy had reached a point that was especially strange, still dark and angry like always, but with a type of curiosity to it as well. He was wondering something, and that made you wonder what he was wondering, and there was such a loop of wondering going on that you didn’t even realize that your tongue was swirling around him, didn’t even notice the slight shift in his demeanor as he pushed the two more of his fingers into your mouth, shoving them down your throat. 

What the fuck?

You shifted, trying to reach up and push him away, but his magic pinned your hands at your sides and all you could do was gag around him, frantically struggling. Magic, magic, do something with your magic to get him to stop, but you couldn’t get it to work, couldn’t get anything to happen. You bit down, desperate, and he hissed as he raised his other hand to your chin, holding it pulled down so you couldn’t bite anymore, scratching his nails gently across your jaw as he did so. 

“You look good like this, do you know that? Gagging. I think you were made for it. It’s interesting, how aware you are of energies, of vibrations in the universe, and yet I don’t think you’re even conscious of the energy you send out. How desperate you are for me. You aren’t aware of it because you don’t want to be. I can read your mind, little witch. You may not like me, but you do want to fuck me. You wear revealing clothes and you act like you’re doing it for yourself, like you’re empowered, but you’re not. You act high and mighty, as though you’re wise and powerful, but really you’re just a dumb, depraved, desperate little whore who wants nothing more than to be dicked down by your rival.” 

What the fuck was he talking about? That wasn’t true!

Was it? 

He was pretty fucking hot, you had to admit, but you didn’t want to get dicked down by Michael Langdon. 

You couldn’t want that.

Fuck. 

Finally, finally, when you thought you were going to pass out or puke or maybe both, he pulled completely away from you, stepping back.

You doubled over, catching your breath, and when you straightened up your magic was finally working again, sending Michael flying across the room until he was pressed against the window, and you gasped, “What the fuck, Langdon? What the actual fucking fuck?”

Michael tried to shrug, but his shoulders wouldn’t move, and after a moment you released him, wishing that he would maybe fall over, but he just smoothly stepped forward, making his way back to you, “I’ll raise the temperature back to normal. And here,” He waved his hand in the air and the books in front of one of the seats at the table flew to other spots, clearing you an area, “I suppose there’s room for us to share the table. No promises on my kindness extending to tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll beat you here tomorrow,” You said, thinking through each of your words carefully as you spoke, “And you can suck my Dick, Langdon.”

Richard raised his head up and down as you set him on the table, slithering closer to Michael as if in emphasis to your point.

“Good one, little witch. That’s very clever, for you,” He chuckled, taking the seat next to the one he had cleared space for you at and sliding his fingers into his own mouth, tilting his head back as he cleaned them off and then pulling them back out with a flourish, shooting you a condescending look, “Are you going to sit? If you’re just here to stare, I’d prefer it if you’d leave. You can be very distracting sometimes.

Numbly, you took a seat next to him, trying hard to ignore his cocky grin, and pulled a book out of your bag. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharing a bedroom with Michael Langdon presented its own challenges. He was an asshole in private just as much as he was in front of others, and it was pretty fucking annoying. 

“Are you ever gonna go to fucking sleep?” Michael snapped at you, pulling his pillow over his eyes. 

“There’s too much noise,” Sighing, you cracked your knuckles, letting Richard the snake trail across your legs, “And not enough noise, at the same time. Am I really bothering you that much? I turned the lights out and everything.” 

He growled, removing the pillow from his head and squinting across the room at you through the darkness, “Doesn’t matter, does it, little witch bitch? You’re still a pain in the ass whether the light is on or off. Can’t you just ignore the noise?” 

“Fuck you, Langdon, you don’t know shit. I can’t just-shit! Ow, motherfucker,” You hissed,  jumping, as Richard bit your finger, “Why the fuck would you do that you dick?”

“What happened?” Michael straightened up, “Y/N?”

The snake was slithering away already, and as he did you were flooded with a strange feeling, the metallic taste of magic in the air. Richard hadn’t bitten you of his own accord, someone had made it happen, and that someone was probably Michael. 

“Y/N,” He repeated, “Come over here.”

Your feet carried you to his bed without your brain guiding them, and you dropped to the mattress next to him, holding out a shaky hand, “Richard bit me.”

Michael wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his large hand engulfing yours as he brought it closer to his face, examining carefully, “Yeah, you did. Weird. You feeling okay?”

You weren’t. Your mind was hazy, and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t the snakebite that did it, you could just tell, it was something deep in your chest and spreading through your body, making you feel like you were in a great fog, and you stared at him, “I don’t feel great, actually.” 

“Would you like me to fix it?” Pressing a kiss to your palm, Michael raised an eyebrow at you.

“I, uh, I don’t know what you, what you mean by-” You cut off, closing your eyes to concentrate, rather than letting yourself get lost looking at Michael.

Dammit, why did he have to be so fucking pretty? It was such a pain. 

Night was the only time you saw him looking casual, too. Night and early morning, when he was in bed. 

Seeing him unbuttoned like this made a strange flip turn in the pit of your stomach.

“I can make the pain go away, little witch,” His voice was hoarse and whispery, “Just say the word.”

“Okay,” You breathed, even though you probably shouldn’t, you should say no, should pull away, should find a way to fix it yourself or maybe go to Cordelia or one of the other witches for help, you didn’t trust Michael, you shouldn’t trust Michael, but the word came out and you were making eye contact with him and fuck, fuck, fuck what were you doing with your life? 

Michael pulled your finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips just below the bite wound, and began sucking gently. 

“What... what are you doing?” You asked blearily, unable to break your eyes away from his, “I don’t... I don’t think you can really suck out the venom. I don’t even know if there is venom? He bit so quick, it was more of a nip than anything, I don’t-”

Pulling his head away for a moment, Michael frowned, “Are you ever quiet, little witch? Just hush, for once, and let me make you feel better.” 

Why was he being so nice? It wasn’t nice, you knew it wasn’t really, there was some type of trick to this, some type of trick to everything he did, and yet you felt swept away, some how. Overwhelmed, intoxicated, by Michael Langdon. 

You nodded, and his lips were around you again, and it was working, you could feel it. The strange pain in your body, that had started to cloud your chest, your throat, stomach, everything, it was fading away. 

You weren’t quite sure what was replacing it, as it certainly wasn’t anything you were used to, but it was mostly calming. There was a thrill of adrenaline spiking through you, but something else. Something deeper. There were few emotions that you couldn’t identify, but this was perhaps one of them. Whatever you were feeling, it was not something that you were used to. 

When the pain was gone and your head was a bit clearer, you tried to pull your hand away. Michael held firm to your wrist, although he let you ball your fingers into a fist, releasing you from his mouth. “How does that feel?” He cooed, tapping his fingers along your veins.

“Better,” You said slowly, and then, “Weird, though. I feel weird. I want... I’m tired, I think.” 

“What do you want?” Michael asked, and there was a smirk on his face that made you want to slap him, and then because your head was still not altogether there, you did slap him. 

Your hand, the one he wasn’t holding in place, hit his cheek at an astounding speed, leaving an angry red mark, and before you could even process that you had done so, you threw your leg across his lap, straddling him, and pressed your lips to his. 

Releasing your wrist finally, Michael pressed his hands into the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, and you stroked your thumb over the mark on his face, listening to Michael’s growl as you pressed down. 

You pulled away after a moment, cupping his face in your hands, panting, “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Which part?” Michael nipped at your bottom lip, smiling a smile that did not soften his eyes at all, “Slapping me? Or kissing me? Because I’ll be honest, I wasn’t fully expecting either of them, little witch bitch.”

“You’ve done something to me,” You mused, beginning to kiss along his throat, “I don’t know what, or how, or why, but there’s something you’ve done. There are a lot of things I want right now.”

“Tell me,” Michael commanded, but then he let out a groan as you brushed your lips over the spot where his jaw met his neck, and his usual suave, intimidating demeanor dropped as you began sucking furiously at the spot. He spoke again, more softly this time, “Stop, tell me.” 

Leaning back to glance at him, you smiled sweetly, “Make me, Boy Wonder,” and then you were at it again, leaving a large clump of bruises near his ear. 

“Seems like you have feelings for me, little bitch,” With mocking laughter, Michael trailed his hands to your hips, giving a harsh squeeze, “What would your sister witches think?” 

“The only feeling I have for you is loathing, Langdon,” You snarled, and in a moment your lips were connected once again, teeth clacking against each other, and when you both paused to catch your breath, you pressed your forehead to his, “Fuck, I really want to suck your cock.”

Michael snorted, “Everyone thinks you’re the future Supreme? You’re just a pathetic little cockslut.” 

You ground your hips down against him and reared your hand back, but this time he caught your wrist, glaring, although he bucked slightly against you. “Fuck you, you’re the one who’s all marked up. You’re the one who’s fucking dry humping me. Look at you. You’re the pathetic one.” 

“Sure I am,” Michael had a low, snarly chuckle that made a bolt of need shoot through you, and also made you very desperately want to hit him again, but seeming to know what you were thinking, he captured your other hand as well, “Such a fiery thing you are, little witch.”

Scowling, you bit his bottom lip and tugged, licking up the blood that beaded up and began to trickle down his chin. Smiling at the bitter taste, a yawn made its way through you before you could stop it. You felt yourself blushing a little at that, muttering quickly, “Sorry about that. I’m more tired than I thought, I guess. Being this close to you kinda blocks out a lot of the other energy, makes it all a lot quieter.” 

“Then let’s sleep.”

You had started to kiss along his collarbones, but you paused at that, murmuring against his skin, “What?” 

Michael wrapped his hand around your jaw, pulling you back so that he could look you in the eye, “You heard me, little witch. You’re tired. I am too. As much as I would love to see you gagging on my cock right now, I’d also enjoy getting some sleep. I’m planning to get up relatively early tomorrow to study.”

“I call the study room,” You said quickly, and you hadn’t even realized that Michael had shifted the two of you so that you were laying down, one hand still cupping your jaw, making it a bit difficult to speak, “What are you doing?” 

“You really are quite dim, little witch. I’m going to sleep. You should do the same,” His voice was softening, although not in a kind way. It was soft, yes, but commanding, dangerous,and you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Straining against his arms, you tried to stand, “I’ll go back to my bed.”

“You can’t sleep in your bed,” Michael said simply, rolling onto his back, one arm still flung across your waist, holding you in place.

Frowning, you turned your body towards him, curling into his side. He was warm. You didn’t even have a blanket covering you, and already you could feel yourself starting to overheat. You didn’t voice this though, not yet, too confused by the entire interaction to focus on that, “Why do you care so much how I sleep?”

 “I don’t,” He said simply, “I care about my sleep. And I’m not going to lose my sleep just because you can’t grasp your own. Now, stop squirming around so much. Are you that worked up?” 

“I’m hot,” You snapped.

“And bothered, apparently.”

“Langdon, do you ever shut the fuck up?” You jabbed your elbow into his side, “That’s not the hot I meant and you know it. I’m warm. You’re like a fucking furnace.” 

Sighing, getting grumpier by the second, Michael hooked his arm around you and pulled you onto his chest so that you were straddling him once again, arms on either side of his body, head hovering over his chest.

He laughed at the way you yelped, being pulled so suddenly, and his hands rested on your back, bringing one up to guide your head down to rest against his chest, “Did I scare you, little witch?”

“No,” You answered quickly, and then, “Just, this is a weird position.”

“It should be a little cooler for you this way. Just sleep, yeah? Get comfortable, and let’s go to sleep,” Michael’s hand stroked up and down your back, probably unconsciously, and you nodded sleepily.

“Goodnight, Mikey,” You murmured, still largely unable to control your impulses.

“Don’t call me that,” He replied, and then, after a moment, he added gently, “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you always here?” Michael sighed the next morning, setting his books down on your table.

“Why are you always such a dick?” You retorted, shuffling your own books to the side. 

He shrugged, stiffening a little as you rested your hand on his thigh, “Because it’s fun. Listen, about last night, I don’t want you to think-”

“I don’t think anything,” You reassured him quickly. 

“Well that’s obvious,” Michael snorted, “You’re far prettier than you are smart, and far more annoying than you are pretty. I’d be surprised if you used that little head of yours for much more than deciding what color lipstick you should wear and fantasizing about getting fucked.” 

Pulling your hand away, you scowled at him, “That’s not what I meant, asshole. I was going to thank you for helping me fall asleep, but now I’d rather just give you another hickey or something, so everyone who looks at you like you’re a god will see what a little bitch their Boy Wonder actually is.” 

“I would take that back, if I were you,” He said coolly, his voice deadly calm. 

You stood, though only for a moment, and pushed his chair back enough for you to be able to sit, straddling his lap much like you had the night before. Hooking your arms around his neck, you looked at him with a smile, “I have no intention of taking anything back. I said what I said, and I fucking meant it.” 

Faster than you knew he could move, Michael stood and slammed your back against the table, knocking the wind out of you. His hands reached under the fabric of your dress and he ripped your underwear off quickly, stuffing them into the pocket of his dress pants as he looked at you, “You have no power here, do you understand that? You may have felt like you were in charge last night, but that’s only because I fucking let you. You’re feisty, and I like that, but you need to learn your fucking place, little witch bitch. Tell me you want that. Tell me you want me to teach you your place, and I will. If you don’t, I’ll leave. But I think we both know which option you prefer.” 

You nodded, swallowing thickly, and at his raised eyebrow you spoke, “I do. I mean, I, uh, I want you to show me my place. Whatever. Just fucking do something, Michael.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” He growled, sitting back down in his chair, and he tugged at you, pulling both your legs over his shoulders, your hips lifting off the table, so that his face was level with your pussy, “I’m the one in charge. Get it? I want you to sit there and-fuck, you’re already so fucking wet. You think you want to be in charge, but clearly you know that you’re meant to be at my mercy. I want you to sit there and melt underneath me, and you’re gonna keep melting until there’s nothing left of you. Get it?” 

“I get it,” You agreed quickly, although you really weren’t quite sure what he meant by that, and your hips bucked weakly forward at the feeling of his hot breath against you, “Please, Michael.” 

“So fucking desperate. You’re fucking dripping for me, and I’ve barely even touched you,” Chuckling, Michael placed a tiny, barely there, ghost of a kiss against your clit, and even though he wasn’t touching you anymore you could feel his wolfish grin at the way you whined when he pulled away. 

Michael dragged his teeth against the soft skin of your thighs, nipping at the junction of your pelvis, and you knew as he continued that there were dark flowers blossoming along after his teeth. You squirmed underneath him, and when he finally finished with your thighs he placed his palms against them, holding them open, his long fingers pressed against your hips so they stayed down. 

You sat up as well as you could to look at him, and you watched as he stared intently at your pussy, leaning forward after far, far too long to lick a slow, languid stripe up your clit. You moaned weakly, giving a flick of your hand to slam the study room door shut and lock it, and after a moment you dug your hands into his hair, “Michael, wait, the window.”

He leaned back for a moment to glance at the large picture window that took over the wall to your left, and then he beamed up at you, “It’s fine, little witch. No one will walk by, and if they do, it won’t embarrass me, so it doesn’t matter much. That reminds me, if being noisy is gonna make you embarrassed, you might wanna find some way to be fucking quiet for once. I know that’s not your strong suit, but it’s the best you’re gonna get.” 

What a dick. 

You were about to voice this thought, tell him what a dick he was, but then Michael clamped his teeth down gently on your clit, giving a playful tug, and you let out a shriek at that, bringing one hand up to stop yourself from making too much noise. 

Suddenly his tongue was inside you, tracing along the walls of your cunt, exploring, searching for something, and when he found the spot he was looking for you bit sharply into the palm of your hand. 

He was masterful in the way he ate you out, his nose still brushing your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. 

It didn’t take long until you felt your stomach tightening, ready to burst, and you tugged at Michael’s thick golden curls, whimpering, “Fuck, Michael, I’m gonna-”

“Do it, little witch,” He spoke against your skin, and you shuddered at the vibrations it sent through you, “Melt for me. Let yourself dissolve for me.” 

Your orgasm washed over you, Michael attacking your g-spot with a ferocity that you probably should’ve expect but didn’t.  He kept going, and you gasped, pulling harder at his hair, “Michael! Stop, you gotta stop, give me a minute.”

He pulled away for just a moment and you gasped, but then his lips were around your clit and sucking furiously. You cursed loudly, another orgasm already approaching, or maybe the first one extending, you couldn’t tell, couldn’t think about it, you were overwhelmed. 

For the first time in your life, you could only feel one sense of energy coming at you. Everything else was blocked out, hidden away behind the deep, angry lust that rolled through the air between you and Michael. 

He moved back down and began lapping furiously at your folds. Pulling back for a moment, Michael spat on your pussy and then buried his face against you once more, shaking his head furiously, and you struggled to hold back your moans. 

You weren’t intending to give him the damn satisfaction.

Michael seemed to realize you were holding back as he started speaking again, his voice muffled against you but bringing another orgasm bubbling to the surface of your skin, electrifying you, “You taste delicious, do you know that, little witch? So sweet. Maybe a little bitter, but so sugary. I could eat you for hours. You know what? I think I will.” 

“Fuck,” You let out a hiss as he dove back in, tongue delving into you once more, and you did your best to act smug, like he wasn’t sending shockwaves through your very being, “Is this the best you’ve got, Boy Wonder? You’re supposed to be teaching me my place, right? But I’m kind of-dammit to fuck, holy hell-kind of the one in charge here, huh? I’m the one above you right now.”

You couldn’t even be sure why exactly you were saying this, why you were egging him on when it was becoming painful how much pleasure was running through you, but he didn’t respond. At least, not out loud. 

Leaping to his feet, Michael pulled you up closer to him, so that only your shoulders were still laying down. You adjusted your position frantically, scrabbling to grip onto the edge of the table. You were upside down and practically vertical, and he dug into you as though he were indeed starving for you, snarling and slobbering, glaring down the length of your body at you. Your body had started to spasm, and you bit your hand until you tasted blood. 

There were explosions going off in your mind, and not just metaphorical orgasmic explosions, but actual ones too, nuclear blasts dancing across your hazy thoughts. 

You couldn’t be sure how long this went on, how many times you came, it was all a blur. You’d given up on keeping your sounds under control and were now openly sobbing, shuddering as he continued to devour you. 

“Stop, Michael, please, I can’t take it,” You were blubbering, straining hard against him and desperately trying to pull away, but Michael held you firmly in place, chuckling at your desperation. 

He pulled your clit into his mouth once more, the suction almost unbearable, and you were smashed with your final orgasm, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he moved to lick at your folds again, a dark glint in his eyes as he watched you pant, watched your own eyes rolling back in your head, and the sight of him smiling against you was the last thing you see before a dark haze overtook you.  

You were surrounded by darkness, everything you saw misted in a painful, prickling fog. The air smelled like sulfur, and you looked down to see that you were covered in blood. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A familiar voice rang in your ear, and you swiveled slowly, sluggishly, to see Michael standing just to your right, an admiring grin on his face, “We did very well, my little witch.” 

You tried to respond, but your words stuck in your throat, and you simply stared at Michael. He was wearing something other than pajamas or the Hawthorne uniform for the first time you had ever seen. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, but as you stared at him he reached one arm out and entangled your fingers in his. 

The sky was thick with grey and black clouds, and Michael’s hand was searing hot against your own. When he pulled away, moving to examine a piece of rubble not far from you, you looked at your palm to see that it was bright shade of pinkish red, as though it had been sunburned. 

Michael turned back around to look at you expectantly, and you saw that the piece of rubble he was leaning against had a large sign on it, with a large chunk missing from one of the top corners. 

--Miss Robichaux’s Academy For Exceptional Young Ladies--

Holy shit. 

When your eyes fluttered back open, Michael was sitting in his chair once more and had adjusted you so that your back was resting on the table again, although your legs were still splayed over his shoulders.

You gasped when you caught sight of his face, your mind still tumbling at the...dream? vision? mirage? You weren’t sure what it was, but you were scrambling to reconcile what you had seen with what was happening now. 

Michael merely raised an eyebrow at you, pulling your legs off of his shoulders, “Are you back with me now, little witch?���

“Fucking hell,” You breathed, trying to sit up.

Placing a hand on your stomach, Michael tutted, “Stay down. At least for a few moments. You blacked out and you’re gonna do it again if you’re not careful.”

“I’m okay,” You reassured him, sitting up again after a few moments, swinging your legs down and frowning, “Fuck, I can’t feel my legs.” 

“That makes sense,” Michael stood, looking down at you coolly, “I think I’ll go study elsewhere. See you around, little witch.”

“What? You can’t just leave,” You couldn’t believe it, and you tried to stand but fell back immediately, your entire lower body trembling. 

Michael didn’t bother to respond, just turned away from you with that ridiculous smirk on his face, and walked out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something strange in the air, but this time you knew what it was. 

Desire.

Michael Langdon was an asshole, but you knew from everything that had happened that you two were destined to meet, although you weren’t sure why.

It seemed that you were going to have to figure it out.   

[ahsbitch]

Pretty Boy (Part Two)---Hawthorne!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 1240 

Summary: Hawthorne & Robichaux are doing a student exchange program. Reader is going to be attending Hawthorne for a while, with Michael acting as her guide there. I feel like there’s not all that much I need to say in terms of summary I’m pretty sure y’all can pick up on where this is headed

Warnings: NSFW, Sub!Michael, handjob (is it a handjob if it’s through his boxers? idk), cursing, very brief choking, me writing a Dom!Reader even though I’m obviously a sub so idk it might not be well written

A/N: Once again this has no business being two parts I just really liked that the first part was 666 words so I wanted to roll with it. First part linked below. I hope y’all like it because I enjoyed writing it more than I expected to tbh. Btw, if y’all wanna send me a request? Or just general thoughts about characters? I would love that! 

Part One

“You’re not feeling the magic,” You turned away from Michael, exasperated. 

In the weeks that you had been attending Hawthorne, in spite of your intentions, you had become pretty close with Michael Langdon. You found him to be one of the least obnoxious of the boys you were there with, and the two of you spent a great deal of time together. 

Of course, that great deal of time you spent together usually consisted of you either studying, arguing, or both, as you were now. 

Growling, Michael pushed the textbook he had bent over off of his desk, “I must not be, because I don’t know what the fuck that means!”

“This is why warlocks are never as good as witches,” Muttering to yourself, you gasped suddenly as his hands wrapped around your throat, slamming you back against him, and you rasped, “What the fuck, pretty boy?” 

“Shut up!” He snarled, his grip tightening a little, “Stop calling me that. And stop being such a... such a bitch all the time!”

You flicked your hand and he went flying off of you, pinned against the wall with an incantation. 

Strange, honestly, usually he could fight off your magic when it came to things like this. 

“Why would I do something like that, pretty boy?” You stalked up to him, frowning, brushing a curl out of his face, “You need to chill out, do you realize that?” 

Michael moved his head away from your touch, and the strand of hair flopped back into his face, “Let me down, Y/N.”

“Let yourself down.”

“I-” He choked on his words as you drifted closer to him, smirking at the way you felt him against your hip as you moved the hair away again, tucking it back, “Just let me down.” 

Musing over his words, you starting to rock back and forth, grinding your hips against his, “See, pretty boy, there’s a catch to that. I would, but I don’t think you really want me to let you go. I think you like being pinned up against a wall by me. You just don’t want me to know that. You tried to choke me, because you think that’s what you should do, but it’s not what you want, is it? This is what’s wrong with your magic, why you’re not feeling it properly.” 

He hissed when you stopped your movements, glaring at you, “I can’t wait until you go back to New Orleans, and I never have to see you again.”

“Oh please, pretty boy, you’re hurting my feelings,” You teased, laughing quietly, “Don’t worry. This gives me an idea of how to teach you what I mean, about feeling the magic. Here, do you feel this? Do you like it? Does it feel pleasant?”

You pressed the heel of your hand against his crotch, reveling in the low whine your touch pulled out of him. 

Feeling the way you shifted the pressure, Michael bucked forward without any thought to it, “Dammit, Y/N. Yes, I feel it. It’s pleasant. But I-” He paused, groaning, clamping his eyes tightly shut, “I don’t like it, though.”

“You sure?” Chuckling, you unzipped his pants, sliding your hand down to rub through his boxers instead, “It’s fine. Either way, it feels the way magic should, the way it fills up around your stomach, and then it runs up through you, until you can feel each individual vein in your body pulsing. When you start a spell, or an incantation, or even just a motion, you should feel this. Get it?”

Michael ground himself against you, desperately keening his hips forward, “Yeah, okay, I got it. Can we, I mean, fuck, can we maybe-”

“Shh, pretty boy,” Pressing a soft kiss to his earlobe, you quickened your pace, “So you get that. But magic is more than that. There’s follow through. You have to not only feel it, you have to pursue it. When you use magic, you have to feel it, hush, listen to me now, okay? You have to chase it, and when it reaches its peak, you have to let it bubble over suddenly and completely, and that’s when you can do your best.” 

“Y/N,” He panted, straining forward more, more, more, “I’m incredible. At everything. Including magic. I, oh, fuck, I shouldn’t tell you this, shit, more, please, I’m more than just a warlock. I don’t need you to, fuck, I don’t need you to teach me anything.”

“Pretty boy, that’s the worst kept secret in the place,” You cooed, nuzzling into his neck, feeling him gasp at the discrepancy between the gentleness of your touch at his throat and roughness of your hand palming at him, “You’re more powerful than any warlock. I don’t know what you are, but it’s something I should probably be scared of. Lucky for you, shh, you’re okay, lucky for you, it takes a lot more than a pretty little boy to frighten me. But if you want to reach the full realm of your power, be as good as you think you already are, you need to fully understand the basics. You need to learn to feel, pretty boy.” 

Whimpering a little, Michael nodded, kissing desperately against your forehead, “Okay! Okay, I understand. Please, Y/N, I-”

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re okay. Come on, let yourself go for me. It’s just like magic, let yourself feel it, let yourself go.”

“No, I, I don’t wanna do this here, I-” He choked on his words as you bit into his throat, running your tongue over it soothingly, “Y/N, please.”

“It’s okay, pretty boy. You’re okay. Come on, finish for me, please, baby. I wanna get the lesson across,” Licking along his jugular, you paused, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Come on, pretty boy, you can do this. You’re okay. You can do this.” 

Michael let out a strangled cry, and you smiled against his cheek as you felt him finally release through the fabric of his boxers. 

Pulling your hand away, satisfied, you zipped and buttoned his pants back up, “Good job, pretty boy. You wanna thank me for being such a good teacher?”

Staring at the ground, Michael blushed a little as he mumbled, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course, baby,” Turning to make your way towards his door, you spoke over your shoulder, “I’d say that’s enough of a magic lesson for today. You might wanna clean yourself up, pretty boy.” 

“Y/N, wait.” 

You paused, and in a moment Michael had spun you around, pressing a harsh, fervent kiss to your lips, your teeth clacking together. 

When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours, and you were still close enough to feel him smiling softly against your mouth. 

“Are we,” Pausing, Michael cleared his throat, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, “Are we gonna do this again some time?” 

Chuckling, you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, “Of course we are, pretty boy. I’m here for the rest of the semester. You think I’m going to be here for two more months and not do this again? Where’s the fun in that?” 

Michael beamed at you, giving you another quick peck on the lips, and you cheered silently to yourself as you made your way back to your own room. 

Hawthorne wasn’t quite as bad as you had expected it to be.