#michael langdon x fem reader

[multific]

The Quiet Beneath the Ash

Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: In the middle of a ruined world, you stumble upon a secluded cabin hidden deep in the woods.

The snow was falling when you first saw the cabin.

You had been walking for hours, maybe days, time had become unreliable since the world ended.

The cabin stood like a fortress in the clearing.

Smoke came from the chimney. Light glowed through shuttered windows. You approached with numb feet, heart filled with hope.

You knocked. Once. Twice.

When the door opened, he stood there barefoot in the snow.

Tall. Bare-chested.

Eyes like ice and fire all at once.

Golden hair curling over his shoulders. A face sculpted from something not quite human. And grief behind his gaze.

He stared at you.

You spoke first. "I’m lost."

He said nothing. Only stepped aside.

Inside, the room smelled of cedar and old smoke. He watched you from a distance as you removed your soaked coat, your boots, your gloves.

"You live here?" you asked.

He nodded. "Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

That night, he gave you a blanket and the floor by the fire. He didn’t ask your name. He didn’t give his.

He only said, "Don’t go into the woods at night. They listen."

You did not ask what that meant.

Not yet.

Days passed.

You cooked meals with the remaining tins in his pantry. You mended a ripped shirt you found hanging by the door.

You spoke softly. He listened. Sometimes he vanished for hours into the trees, returning with wild berries or mushrooms or fish.

He barely ate.

He barely slept.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked one evening, staring into the fire.

"No."

"You should be."

"I’m tired of being afraid."

His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile.

That night, he slept beside the fire place, just close enough to share the warmth.

His name came later. In the dark.

"Michael."

You whispered it back. "Michael."

He flinched as if hearing it aloud hurt him.

You didn’t ask.

But the silence changed after that.

Became friendly.

Sometimes you found him watching you as you chopped vegetables or swept the dust from the corners of the room. Not like a man watching a woman. More like a man watching a star, he thought he’d never see again.

"What happened to the world?" you asked, days later.

Michael didn’t answer right away. He traced a pattern in the ash on the table. His voice was quiet when it came.

"I destroyed it."

You stared.

He met your gaze.

"Not alone. But I wanted it. And it happened."

Your throat tightened. "Why?"

"Because I was born to do it."

Silence.

Then, gently, you reached out and placed your hand over his.

He flinched. But didn’t pull away.

"I don’t think you’d still be here, mourning it, if that’s all you were."

His eyes glowed in the firelight.

"People don’t usually talk to me like this."

"People are gone."

He laughed, bitter and low. "I guess they are."

Spring came slowly.

Michael fixed the roof.

You planted herbs near the window. You found a stray cat and named her Mercy.

Michael pretended not to care, but you often caught him petting her when he thought you weren’t looking.

He began to eat more.

He began to smile.

One night, he cooked for you.

Real food. Berries and fish. He even poured water into a cracked cup and said, "For wine, pretend."

You laughed.

He looked stunned. Like he'd heard something holy.

You stood beside him at the hearth, your hands brushing.

He turned to you.

"Do you still think you’re evil?" you asked.

He paused.

"I think I was made for it."

"And now?"

His breath caught. "Now... I think I want something else."

You touched his cheek. Warm. Human. His eyes fluttered shut.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t rough or desperate. It was beautiful.

A man not begging to be loved, but fearing he could be.

He was wrong. You already did.

Time passed, slow and golden. You bathed together in the river.

You read old books by candlelight. You rebuilt what had been lost, not civilisation, but something better.

Quiet. Tender. Real.

Michael told you, one day, that his magic had begun to fade. He sounded relieved.

"I think I used it all to destroy everything," he said. "Maybe this peace… maybe it’s the price."

"Then it’s worth it," you whispered.

He kissed you again. "You are worth it."

Years later, the woods still whispered, but they no longer frightened you.

Not when Michael stood beside you, barefoot in the grass, one hand resting gently on your growing belly.

"A child in a dead world," he murmured, forehead against yours.

"Not dead," you said. "Reborn."

You could feel his tears on your skin.

Not pain. Not grief.

Gratitude.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[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 ��

Devil Wears A Suit, part Ⅱ

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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

[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!

[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]

[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!

[xximperioxx]

Work Crush

Dr. Michael ��Robby” Robinavitch x fem!reader

Word count: 3k (I blacked out)

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, nothing too spicy - my man just wants to kiss his girl, sex toy mentioned lmao

Notes: y’all this man has me in a chokehold. He may be a little ooc but idc. This is kind of set before the first episode. I literally don’t know any about social workers so please ignore. It’s been soooooo long since I’ve written something so please be gentle. Also when you read it you can totally tell I listened to I Can See You by Taylor Swift writing this.

———————————————

Being a social worker at the Pitt has been interesting to say the least. You never know what’s going to come through those doors. The days are long and the shifts are difficult but the people and families you’ve helped regardless of the situations have made it worth it.

You started as an intern a few years ago, working directly with Kiara. You’ve become a tight knit family in the Pitt in a short amount of time.

You obviously cared for some co-workers more than others. Kiara was like your mom in and out of hospital. Dana was your work mom, Langdon was like your annoying brother, Collins and McKay felt like older sisters. Robby was different.

At first it started as a silly work crush. Blushing every time he said your name. It had to be how he looks in scrubs. That’s what you told yourself anyways. That was until you both saw each other outside of work at a local coffee shop.

You walked into the coffee shop down the street from your apartment, half asleep even though it’s after 2pm on your day off. Lifting your sunglasses to the top of your head, you scan the restaurant. You take an earbud out and stare at the menu debating on trying something new.

You feel someone stand next to you. Not ready to order, you turn to the person, “Oh I’m not ready yet, you can…Robby?”

He looks down in surprise, almost not recognizing you in casual clothes. His eyes travel down to your leggings and an old band tee with your hair in a lazy ponytail. You wanted to cringe, immediately regretting the lazy outfit.

He gives you a smile, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Your cheeks warm from his smile. “Just needed an afternoon pick me up.. well technically morning.”

He lets out a chuckle, “Just woke up too? I think I rolled out of bed like an hour ago.” Lies. He barely slept.

You nod with a smile, noting the lie you can see in his eyes. He feels like you see right through him.

He looks down at you, “Do you come here often?”

You purse your lips, not trying to laugh, “Was that supposed to be a pick up line?”

Robby feels himself grow red. He didn’t mean it like that. At least he thought. He opens his mouth to respond but the barista interrupts him. “Dr. Robby! You want your usual?”

Robby slowly nods in response and takes a step towards the register. You let your eyes finally take him in. Off shift Robby. He was wearing sweats and a hoodie. God he’s hot in regular clothes too. You find yourself thinking he looks a little too good in sweatpants. Get a hold of yourself.

Robby clears his throat. You’re caught red handed. Your eyes meet his. “Let me buy your coffee.”

“You really don’t need to do that.” You stutter out embarrassed. Is he being nice or flirting?

He gives you a look. “Too late. Order.” He motions you over, “C’mon, before I change my mind.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumble before taking a step towards the barista with a smile. You can feel Robby’s eyes on you. His mind is racing with a million thoughts. He hopes you can’t hear his heart beating out his chest.

As you’re ordering, Robby pulls out his wallet. His eyes can’t help but wander over your ass. He catches himself and pulls himself back when he hears the barista’s voice. He feels like a dirty old man. He meets the eyes of the employee already looking at him. The barista repeats the amount due. Robby quickly hands the cash over.

You both walk to a table. “Thank you for the coffee. I really appreciate it.”

The smile he gives you almost weakens your knees.

“Anything for my favorite social worker.”

You let out a laugh, “Yeah, when Kiara’s not at work. She’s the best. ”

He shakes his head, “Give yourself some credit, kid.” You feel yourself deflate at the name but shake it off. “You’re fantastic at your job.”

“Says you, Dr. Robinavitch.” He makes a face at the praise and shakes his head.

It’s quiet between the two of you. You can see him thinking. Taking a sip of your coffee, you joke quietly, “One of these days, Michael.” His brown eyes meet yours with furrowed eyebrows in response, “You’ll tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

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

After the coffee shop, you found yourself watching how he carried himself around patients, around his coworkers, those he thought of as friends, and you. How he cares more about others than himself. The way he smirks when jokes around, the way he smiles when he sees his residents working hard. Your heart begins to beat faster whenever he catches your eye.

You began to feel Robby’s eyes on you more. The lingering touches when he brushes past you to get to another patient. The two of you ignoring what you’re both feeling.

Langdon even noticed the tension. He thinks it’s funny to gag whenever he catches you two looking at each other. It normally ends in a hard shove and a wince.

You don’t realize you’re spacing out in front of the computer until Collins repeats your name for the third time and McKay is snapping her fingers in your face. You blink a few times before looking at her. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Collins hums, “Any particular reason?”

You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “I guess I have a lot on my mind recently.”

McKay frowns at you, “Are you taking your medication? You really…”

You stop listening to her as you see Robby walk through the door. His eyes find yours and gives you a smile with tired eyes.

McKay stops talking, following your eyes. She scoffs as Collins and Mohan both snicker.

“How does that song go?” Mohan begins to sing, “‘Daddy’s home, home for meee.”

Collins lets out a loud laugh before joining, “You know your daddy’s home. It’s time to playyyy”

“You guys are mean.” “It’s too early for this” You and McKay say at the same time.

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

It had only been about two hours into the shift and you had already talked to families about tough situations. A miscarriage, death, postpartum mental health, addiction. You had lost count already.

Sighing as the low battery message popped up on the tablet you were using, you walked over to the desk to get a new one. Langdon, Mateo, and Mohan were deep in conversation about a patient you assume.

“Listen, all I’m saying is, the majority of the people who use toys like that aren’t getting laid.” Langdon said as if it proved a point.

You turn to the trio in shock, “What the fuck did I just walk in to?”

Mohan greeted you with a smile, “Patient‘s penis got stuck in one of those hands free strokers.”

You blanched at the thought. “That’s rough.”

Mateo nods in response before joking, “It was a sticky situation.”

A snort escapes you, Mohan stifles a giggle, and Langdon groans at the bad joke.

“Alright tea party’s over.” Robby interrupts the group, “Gloria is already up my ass today. I don’t need her seeing this.”

The doctors go in separate directions, each going to check on patients. Robby sits down at a computer with a sigh. He puts his readers on. You glance at him with a smirk as you work on paperwork for a recent patient, “Is today the day?”

He lets out a snarky laugh, “To talk about my feelings? In your dreams.”

“You always are, Dr. Robinavitch. You wouldn’t believe half the things I dream about,” You cheekily respond. He shakes his head at you. A real laugh escapes him.

Kiara comes up to you with a smile and you greet her. She looks between you and Robby. Noting the smiles on your faces. “What’d I miss?”

You hear McKay call you over to a patient. Picking up a new tablet you begin to walk away. You turn your head and joke, “Dr. Robby just mentioned to me he was finally interested in talking to you about what’s going on in that brain of his!”

Kiara looks at Robby with a hopeful smile, “Really?”

“No.”

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

Later in the day, you found yourself at the counter again working on a patient file. Langdon noticed you and looked away from Dr. Robby, “What about you, (Y/N), what’s your take on dogs and kids?”

Glancing up from your tablet, “I’m actually more of a cat person myself. Had one growing up and I have one now.” You answer with a shrug.

Langdon scoffed, “You’re basically an old cat lady.”

You send a glare his way.

“You have a cat and haven’t gotten laid in like a year.”

Your face turns red in embarrassment. You confessed to Langdon that it’s been over a year since you’ve had sex when you went out drinking with him and his girlfriend not too long ago. You could almost hear the way the couple let out a sad oh in response now. Could this get anymore embarrassing?

Thankfully you don’t notice Dr. Robby’s eyes widened after hearing Langdon. Surely a young woman like yourself didn’t spend most nights alone. He finds you attractive, he wouldn’t deny that. He remembers hearing you mention Leo a few times in passing. Does this mean you don’t have a boyfriend? He shakes his head, ignoring his thoughts. He could be your dad for Christ’s sake.

“And you’re a swiftie.” Dana added.

You gape at her. “How did you even know that?”

The charge nurse chuckled, “I saw you crying in your car at All Too Well a couple months ago. The 10 minute version if I recall.”

The two doctors raise their eyebrows at Dana, surprised to know her knowledge of the song.

Robby slides his glasses down to look at the charge nurse with a smirk, “Kinda sounds like you’re a swiftie, Dana.”

Your eyes find his and you try not to smile at his way to try to change the conversation. Robby’s smirk turns into a soft smile at you. Langdon looks between the two of you and keeps his mouth shut this time.

She puts her hands up in defense, “Blame my daughters.”

“They have great taste!” You defend her daughters. Ignoring the urge to cringe knowing Dana had caught you crying over a silly guy who broke your heart.

Langdon turned his attention back to you. Pointing his pen at you, he smirks, “Officially an old cat lady…just in a 20 something year old’s body.”

Dana puts her hand on your arm, “Sweetie, you’re too young to turn into a cat lady. You can’t be spending your nights off with your cat.” she says with a light laugh.

“For your information, Leo is great company.”

Robby looks up from the computer, “Leo’s your cat?” Langdon and Dana let out a laugh at his comment.

You pick up your tablet with an eye roll. You mumble, “You guys suck.” You begin walking away before you look back, “You guys remember this next time you need me for a patient!”

Robby found himself standing up and following you. As he got closer to you he began to regret his decision. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his hoodie with a sigh.

Now in step with you, his elbow bumps your shoulder.

“That last part didn’t include me, right? Because I-..” A laugh from you interrupts him. He lets out a chuckle too.

“No Robby, I’m all yours.” You stop, eyes wide after realizing what you said. “I mean like - you don’t suck,” Robby’s grin grows causing you to turn red. “..I’m going to stop talking now.”

“Oh no, please keep going.” He teases.

You try to joke, “Is this karma for earlier?”

Your smiles wipe off you when you see Gloria standing with an unimpressed look on her face. She’s looking at Robby. You slowly turn to look at him, placing your hand on his bicep. You purse your lips and lie, “I’ll um… go talk to that patient in 103 that you mentioned,” you lean in whispering, “Good luck.”

He gives you a tight lipped smile.

Collins stops you on your way to speak to one of her patients about counseling. You walk into the patient's room with a calming smile.

As you’re discussing what services will be covered by their insurance, you get interrupted by Robby’s annoyed voice yelling, “I can only tell you so many times that this wouldn’t be happening if you hired more help! It’s fucking ridiculous. We are doing all we can down here while upstairs is empty.”

Your eyes widen and your patient lets out a laugh. You apologize for the language before casually peeking out the door to see what happened. You only see an irked Gloria and a group of nurses and doctors looking at each other awkwardly. No Robby to be seen.

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

After finishing up your conversation with the patient you excuse yourself. Dana looks up from the computer to see you at the desk signing some paperwork.

“You talk to Robby?” She questions.

You meet her gaze and shake your head. She sighs and you look around the room, still not seeing him. “I was going to ask you that. Where did he disappear to?” You get a shrug in response. Nodding, you put away your tablet and decide to look for the stressed doctor.

You end up finding Robby leaning up against the wall in a quiet hallway. His head against the wall with his eyes closed. You watch him for a minute, debating if you should leave him alone.

You decide to join him. Leaning on the wall, your arms brush. It’s quiet.

You rest your head back and close your eyes as you enjoy the moment of peace.

Robby’s voice fills the air, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You hum, “I know.”

He turns his head to look at you. Feeling his stare, you peek at him with one eye. You can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He lets out a chuckle and turns away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laugh.

The two of you stand in comfortable silence. The loud noise from down the hall drowns out the loudness of your beating hearts.

“Does it bother you that I’m twice your age?”

The question takes you by surprise. This time you turn your head to look at him.

“I find it sexy.” You tease and he lets out a huffed laugh.

It's quiet again. You sigh, “No, it doesn’t bother me. It never did,” you pause almost hesitant, “Does it bother you that I’m young?”

Robby let’s out a tired sigh, “It would be a whole lot fucking easier if it did but it doesn’t.” He runs his hands over his face. “Everything would be a lot easier if I didn’t feel this way about you.”

You nudge his shoulder. You push yourself off the wall and face him, “Tell me about it. I’ve had the hots for you since I started here,” you begin to take a step backward to create some space and laugh, “I tried to convince myself it was purely a work crush and next then I knew is - you’re all I could think about. Day and night.”

Robby reaches for your waist and pulls you in close.Your hands rest on his chest.“Remember when you blushed every time I said your name?” You roll your eyes, “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

He turns serious again, “You take one look at me and I feel like you see right through me and it’s fucking scary. Yet every time you smile at me I suddenly feel like a teenager again.” His thumbs grazing your hips he holds you and jokes, “More like a dirty old perv actually.”

You scrunch your face, “We all have our quirks. Me with my attraction to sexy older men and being a cat lady - ”

“You’re ridiculous,” He cuts you off with a shake of his head and a smirk. “And one sexy cat lady.”

You let out a giggle.

The two of you look into each other's eyes. Robby’s eyes occasionally glancing down at your lips. His head dips down and you lift head up to meet his lips. Your lips brush against each other and you mumble, “Michael, if don’t you don’t kiss me soon I think I might pass away.”

You feel the rumble of his chest as he chuckles, “Always so dramatic.” His lips finally meet yours for a slow, gentle kiss.

You eagerly kiss him back. His hands trail up your body and cup your face, kissing you harder. You both deepen the kiss and find yourself unzipping his sweatshirt and taking it off him. He pulls his hands away from your face for a second to help take it off, your lips never parting. It falls to the ground. Your hands travel up his biceps and back to his chest. After a few seconds, you both pull away with cheesy smiles on your faces, breathless. His hands fall back to your waist and gives you a squeeze.

Your hands wrap around his neck, “That was really nice.”

He lets out a snicker before pulling you into another passionate kiss. His lips begin to travel to your jaw and down your neck. You let out a breathy sigh, “This is even better.”

Your breath hitches as he begins to suck at your neck. This couldn’t keep going farther. It'll only be a matter of time before someone catches the two of you. You let out a moan, “You've had me hot and bothered since you told Gloria off.” He groans before he nips at your shoulder in response and pinches your sides.

You squeak, “And as much as I would love to jump your old man bones right now,” another pinch, “We should really get back before she comes looking for you.” You gently pull his face back up to yours.

He nods. “You’re right.” The look in his brown eyes says otherwise. He shrugs with a teasing smile, “Maybe just one more.”

You roll your eyes before pulling him into another kiss.

It was only a matter of time until Dana found the two of you, “Hey! We don’t have time for this! Get your asses back to work.”

You jump away from each other embarrassed, blushing like two teenagers who got caught by their parent.

[eden031]

Past life

Pairing: Michael ‚Robby‘ Robinavitch x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, past relationship, swearing, second chances, Robby has issues

Words: 5k

Summary: After coming back to the Pitt after years away facing Robby is by far the most painful part.

A/N: Hello everyone! Guess who is back from the dead! Uni kind of took over my life for a while and I sadly didn‘t have time to write fics. But now things have slowed down a little again and I am going to start writing more again. I hope you can forgive me for my absence. This is my entry for the ADAD event, I hope you enjoy, lots of love :)

The sound of the ED moving around her was a strange, yet familiar kind of chaos. The kind of chaos she had learned to love over the course of her many years working in it, people shouting for something, nurses running around, someone always cleaning up. Patients that were trying to get seen quicker, Doctors that had their hands full, but still needed to satisfy the whims of administration. It was always like that, it had never changed, not over the course of her career at least.

She had already seen him the moment she had entered, hunched over one of the computers, typing something into the system, probably keeping up with charting, as organised as he had always been. He had not seen her yet, his reaction would probably have been obvious if he had. His back turned towards her, the blue jacket hanging over his shoulders, not something he had worn while they had first worked together, back then he had always opted for a tight fitted long sleeve beneath the scrubs. The feeling of the ring dangling on her necklace somehow got heavier as she approached the nurses’ station, cald in the black scrubs of the Pitt as this chaos was affectionately called.

Michael Robinavitch, the man that had made her learn to love the chaos during her third year med school rotation, the man that had shown her that even when you had so little you could do there was so much of an impact you could have, the man that had turned her life upside down with a simple question, still had not noticed her.

A mentor, that was what he had been at first. Someone that had taken her hand, guiding her with so much gentle confidence that it made her question her decision to go into pediatric surgery. It had startled her at first, how good she was at Emergency medicine, but Robby had simply led her gently, let her make decisions and showed her how to do something the right way if she ever made a mistake. Due to him she had changed her mind, decided against pediatric surgery, deciding to go into Emergency medicine, a decision she would never regret.

Then he had become a friend, someone she could confide in. Someone that would help her through a rough patch in which she doubted herself and her abilities. He had been her rock during many difficult times in her life, stood by her with a certain kind of unwavering loyalty that only Robby had. The man had become her constant, the only thing she felt she could rely on, the only thing she knew would be there even when there was nothing else was left, the thing that made sense when everything else was nonsense.

And then he had become so much more to her. Until it all had fallen apart in one single night, not even within an hour.

“Look who is here!” an excited voice, a voice she still had in mind much younger and inexperienced, came from the nurses’ station. Many heads turned and on some faces confusion was evident, some of these faces she didn’t even recognise, but there were still some familiar faces, faces she had missed. Faces that belonged to people that had shaped who she was as a person. People she regretted having to leave behind to take her own path, to figure out who she was.

“Well, well, well,” the tall, broad shouldered figure of Frank Langdon, the person that had first spotted her, grinned brightly at her. He looked older than when she had last seen him, well, it had been some years since they had last seen each other. His hair still floppy, his grin still big and confident, though there were a few lines on his face now. He looked more tired, like he was bearing some kind of weight with him, though the most notable thing she had seen were the wedding ring and the bracelet on his wrist, a bracelet a kid had made. For a moment she wondered if he had actually married Abby, the girl he had been with when they had first met.

“Look at you,” she was unable to suppress the sarcasm in her tone, “So big and still not grown up,” she patted him on the shoulder, a surprised laugh came from him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Still got some bite left in you?” Langdon asked as he tilted his head to the side, a grin on his face. Shaking her head she tutted slightly, a grin slowly growing on her face as she looked at the younger man. His eyes shimmering softly in the light of the ED.

“What are you doing here, darlin’?” Dana sounded as surprised as she imagined, stepping up beside Frank, concern etched on her face. She had been the one to comfort her that night, the one that held her tightly and told her that everything would be alright.

“Well,” she sighed, shoving her hands in the pockets of her pants, shrugging slightly she gave Dana a guilty look, “New Orleans and LA were great, but…” she paused for a long moment, glancing over at the workstation where Robby had been only a few moments ago she saw that he was already gone again. It made her heart crack open all over again, not like it had all those years ago, but it cracked nonetheless. She wanted to laugh, a heart that had never mended breaking further.

“I felt like I needed to come back,” she smiled at Dana, shrugging slightly. “Felt like the right thing to do after that much time,” Dana looked at her like she had just told her something about magic and dragons in a land far beyond Pittsburgh. Like she had just told her that she wanted to go back to a toxic ex-boyfriend.

“It’s not been that long since you left,” Frank sounded mildly offended, like she was insinuating that he had gotten old.

“You were practically still an infant when I left,” she muttered under her breath, “Freaking fourth year med student,” shaking her head she gave him a small grin. He looked mildly offended as she winked at him. Back then she had been the senior resident, taking him under her wing, making sure that he did not drown in the chaos of the Pitt, trying to keep him confident and sure of himself.

“So…I think I am just going to ask the question all of us are asking ourselves…” the voice of a young woman came from one corner of the nurses’ station, mild annoyance evident in her tone. “Who exactly are you?” She looked at the other woman, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, eyes bright in the light of the ED. For a moment she looked at her, she was young, still bright and held herself with a confidence that made her wonder if she would hold up in the ED for longer than a few months. Frank let out an annoyed groan as he looked at the young woman, like he was already fed up with her. His brows etched into a frown, lips tight, giving her something that looked eerily like her own warning glare.

„That is one of the most impressive people you might actually ever meet here,“ Dana gave her a fond smile as she looked at the younger woman, ,“That is one of the best emergency medicine doctors of this century,“

„Don‘t flatter me too much, Dana,“ a laugh escaped her as she shook her head, „I am simply trying my best every day,” That was true to some extent. She had gotten nominations for prizes, there were scholarships named after her, she was published in multiple renowned medical journals as an expert in emergency medicine, hell Pinn even offered her a teaching position. A position she had declined to come back to the Pitt after working in different hospitals over the last five years. Many things could change in five years, she had grown as a person, gotten better at everything she did, become incredibly confident in her own abilities.

“Alright people! Enough chatter! Rounds!” The all too familiar voice of Robby called from somewhere behind her. She turned her head slightly, seeing him standing there, Heather Collins standing right beside him, their heads tucked together in a quiet conversation. She still wasn’t sure if he had actually seen her, he probably had, simply pretending like he couldn’t see her. Feeling a knot forming in her stomach she looked at him for a long moment, the crowd around her started moving. Frank gently put a hand on her shoulder pushing her to move forward.

As she began to walk a young woman, blonde hair in a braid, glasses balanced on the bridge of her nose appeared right beside her.

“Hi, I am Doctor Melissa King, but everyone calls me Mel. It’s really nice to meet you, I read one of your papers on child drowning victims! It was a really interesting paper and I liked your ideas regarding the subject though. There is just one thing I wanted to ask: How did you get that many case reports on the matter?” Mel was speaking incredibly quickly, eyes wide, her hands fidgeting.

“Nice to meet you Dr. King,” she smiled at the younger woman, “I am glad you found the paper interesting,” she paused, “And regarding your question, there are a lot more drowning accidents in LA and Chicago than Pittsburgh due to the proximity to the ocean,” she hummed as they walked towards Robby and Collins. The chain around her neck now felt too heavy for her own comfort, like it was weighing her down, trying to drag her to the ground.

“Of course! I am so sorry, that was a stupid question!” Dr. King turned a soft shade of pink, her eyes going even wider now.

“It wasn’t. You assumed I wrote the paper here, no need to apologize,” she spoke softly. Stopping a few feet away from Robby and Collins she crossed her arms over her chest. The circle began to fill, many of the people she did not recognize, especially the residents, though she definitely recognized many of the nurses. Finally Robby looked up from the IPad, his eyes finding her right away, they were still beautiful, the deep brown still as sad as they had been five years ago. His gaze was unwavering and what looked like some kind of neutralness on his face had turned into something else, it wasn’t hatred, it wasn’t anger, no she could see it on his features as clear as day, like she had always been able to, there was deep regret and pain etched onto his face. He looked older, the pandemic had worn him down, drained him, like it had many medical professionals.

“Alright people, first of all, as you may have noticed we have a new member to the team,” he said her name, like it was some kind of silent prayer that he had not dared to speak in too long, the way he caressed every single syllable was almost too caring for what had happened between them, though she knew that if she was in his position she probably would say his name the exact same way, “If you need anything the senior residents can’t help you with she is the one you go to before me, she is damn good at what she does, listen to what she tells you.” there was a certain fondness in the way he talked to her. For a moment she wasn’t sure if she was glad about it or if she wanted to rage at him, the whole thing would be easier if they were mad at each other, if they had parted ways hating and loathing one another, it would have been so much easier, but that had not been in the cards for them.

Rounds were a more or less quick affair, there had been rounds that had taken much longer, she knew that the person making sure that the Pitt was running smoothly was Robby, like Adamson had done in the past. A lot of patients were simply waiting to be transferred to the right department, it was always like this, the hospital not wanting to spend too much money on nurses to properly staff upstairs, then whining about the patient satisfaction. Luckily both Chicago and LA had been okay in that department, but she knew that it was sadly the norm to keep patients waiting down in the Pitt.

“Alright people, let’s get to work,” Robby announced and the crowd scattered, she had decided that she wanted to gauge how the med students and the intern were like, apparently the intern was a bit mouthy, but the two med students seemed to be nice.

“Whittaker, right?” she asked as she approached the young man, his eyes wide and tired as he looked at her.

“Yeah?” he nodded jerkily, like he was trying very hard not to run away from her and hide in the corner.

“Care to join me for a few patients?” she asked, giving him a slight smile. The young man nodded jerkily again, a shy smile on his lips as the day began.

To say that the day turned into absolute chaos was an understatement. It was like the flow of incoming patients never stopped, one obscure case after the other, people that were incredibly rude, more rude than usual. The trauma cases were horrifying, people being cut in half, there was a forklift vs. worker case, multiple overdoses, among them a kid that had gotten into his parent’s med stash and eaten an ungodly amount of pills, though luckily they had been able to pump his stomach in time to prevent death. A young woman that had been stabbed by her boyfriend, a father of two that had saved his children from a car speeding towards them, but had not been able to save himself, there was more, it felt like tragedy didn’t stop.

When four o’clock rolled around she found Whittaker crying in the staff lounge. She had wanted to get some coffee to make sure she didn’t fall asleep standing at the end of the shift. A bad feeling settled in her stomach as she carefully approached him, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. Worry seeping into her stomach as she saw him looking at her with red, puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sniffling, whipping away his tears, looking mildly ashamed of crying as he looked at the coffee cup in her hand.

“No need to apologize, just tell me what you need,” she spoke softly, trying to help him somehow. She knew that it wasn’t easy, especially if a case hit close to home. The kind of cases that someone would try to forget, but in the end knew would haunt them forever. There were cases one forgot with time, but there were cases when you could wake up sweating in the middle of the night, five or six years later.

“I-” he paused, looking like he wanted to sink into the ground, “I think I just need someone to tell me that it gets easier, someone that is not Dr. Robby.” he hummed softly, fiddling with his fingers as the tears began to ebb away.

“It will,” she nodded slightly, “there will always be hard days and hard cases, but in the end it will get easier. You learn to deal with the pain, you learn to come to terms with it. You learn to live with it, to find balance.” she gently patted his shoulder.

“Dr. Robby said the same thing, but when I asked him he told me he hadn’t reached that point yet.” Whittaker looked like he was telling her some big secret.

At that she was not sure if she wanted to laugh or to cry. Robby had also told her the exact same thing when they had first met at the Pitt. He had given her and all the other newcomers the speech about the time he had lost a kid on his first day in Chicago. How when he had walked past the cemetery he thought that he needed to bury it. That was how she had first interacted with him properly, she had told him that it was bullshit and that people shouldn’t bury their feelings. That it wasn’t healthy for people to bury their feelings and that she thought he should go and see a therapist if he actually thought that burying your feelings was a good way of dealing with them.

“Yeah, but I can tell you kid, if you work through some of those feelings and put in the work of getting the uncomfortable emotions out of your system then things will start getting easier. Like I said, there will always be hard days, but everything will be easier at some point,” she smiled at him, patting his shoulder. Nodding slightly as she filled up her mug, putting some almond milk in her coffee before heading out of the breakroom, hoping that this day might finally come to an end.

It was only a few moments after she had put down her mug that Dana called out a hit and run patient coming in. She got ready to work on the trauma, trying to work as quickly as possible, nurses and residents running around to get the trauma room ready, her heart thundering in her chest as she jogged towards the ambulance bay, meeting the patient that was being wheeled in on a gurney.

Everyone worked in a practiced rhythm, Robby had come into the trauma bay while they were doing everything they could to get the bleeding under control, she was barking out orders, trying to get the young man stable as soon as possible. He started coding, she was the quickest to start compressions, while she worked she saw Robby taking over what she had been doing, his head hovering close to the man’s open break. While she did compressions she felt the chain around her neck slip out from underneath her scrubs, now dangling perfectly in Robby’s field of vision. The white gemstone set in the silver band glimmering softly in the fluorescent light of the trauma bay, bouncing while she continued compressions, though it seemed like Robby didn’t move after it had slipped out from underneath her scrubs, like his eyes were fixed on it, on the ring he had given her.

Then someone called his name, called him out on not moving anymore and he snapped out of it, continuing to work diligently like he always did.

After that incident the tension between her and Robby became palpable even to the people that didn’t know a thing about the fall out between them. About what had happened between them. Some of the residents gave her questioning looks, some of the newer nurses seemed to want to ask Princess and Perlah about it. The two, who would usually spread gossip at an insane rate, kept quiet about it, not saying much, either they brushed it off or kept it vague. Everyone that knew what happened between them would keep quiet about it, about the fall out, about the argument.

Shift change had come sooner than she expected, but it was not unwelcome, standing at the nurses station she finished putting something into a chart when the voice of Dana pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Robby went to the roof, I think the two of you should talk,” her voice was soft, but firm. It was not a suggestion, it was a command, it was something there would be no discussion about. She would want to hear what they said to each other tomorrow morning at the latest.

“Yeah,” she nodded heavily, feeling the lump in her throat growing. Slowly she made her way to the elevator, waiting for it to arrive on the highest floor felt like an eternity.

She remembered warm hands massaging the knots out of her shoulders while she laid on that ugly purple sofa she had bought off of facebook marketplace during college, the ugly purple sofa that held so many memories, the one that still stood in the bedroom of her new apartment. She remembered Robby placing soft kisses on her forehead, on her cheeks on her lips, pulling her close to him. She remembered how Robby would melt into her when they hugged, how they pressed so close together that she sometimes thought he was trying to become one with her.

The bing pulled her out of her thoughts, stepping out of the elevator she made her way towards the staircase, having to take the last flight of stairs to the roof on foot. A sigh left her lips as she thought about the day he had pulled out that little ring box, telling her that he thought that it would be grander when he proposed, though that it felt right to it now. It had been the day after her last board exam, the day she was free of the worry of exams. She knew she had aced the exam, there was little doubt in her mind about that. Robby had taken her out to eat dinner at their favourite place, then taken a walk around a lake. The sun had been setting and Robby had asked her to marry him. She still remembered that she had cried when he asked her. Told him that she would marry him, told him that she loved him dearly.

As she pushed open the door she saw Robby leaning against the railing, arms supporting his upper body as he looked over the city. Back slouched, head held high as he stared into the distance.

“Fuck off, Jack.” His voice was tight, “I already told you that I didn’t want to talk to you,” his voice was harsh, harsher than she would have expected it to be when he talked to his long time friend.

“Well, good thing I am not Jack,” she said softly. As her words reached him he straightened his back, turning around to look at her, he was moving so quickly that she thought that he might give himself whiplash, big brown eyes wide as he looked at her. The shock ebbed away slowly, turning into something softer, something that was a mix between fondness and debilitating sadness.

“It would be best for you to leave,” his voice was soft as he said that, but these words set off a burning rage inside of her, a rage she had suppressed for many years. Actually it was not true rage, it was sadness, it was a lack of understanding, she didn’t get it.

“You told me that before and I listened back then, I bowed to what you told me. But I think you should also remember what I told you,” her voice was harsh.

“Stop making decisions for me, Micheal,” he responded, his voice filled with regret, the sadness in his eyes taking over. She had not moved closer to him, her hands shaking beside her body.

“Yeah, that still fucking stands, stop making decisions for me, because the last one you made turned out to be pretty fucking bad,” her voice was shaking slightly. Robby averted his gaze like he was trying to keep himself from seeing the whole truth, the consequences of his own actions.

“You told me you wouldn’t leave, even if you wanted.” Robby sounded genuinely broken, “I felt like I trapped you,” his voice was soft as he spoke. These words brought back the night it had all happened like some kind of whiplash.

They had been out to dinner together, gotten back to their shared apartment, the ugly purple sofa she had refused to get rid of standing beside Robby’s in some way crowding the living room a bit. She had told him that during dinner, told him that she would always stay with him through thick and thin, making sure that they worked out. She had not meant ill by it, she had simply wanted to underline to him that she would never leave him behind. That night Robby had told her that he thought it would be best if she left Pittsburgh. Told her that it was best if they parted ways for good, that he would put in a good word at Big Charity Hospital in Chicago for her so that she could start her career. She had tried to argue with him, to beg him to not leave, but he had shut down completely.

He had packed her bags for her, while she had cried, her make up ruined, hands shaking while she called Dana, asking to crash on her couch that night. He had given her her duffle back, told her to tell Dana if she wanted to work at Big Charity, then he would make sure she got a position there.

“You fucking broke up with me three months before our wedding,” her voice was shaking, “You told me that you didn’t want me in your life anymore, Robby!” her voice was getting louder, she had never been angry at him, not really, she couldn’t bring herself to be. “You ripped out my heart, threw it on the ground, shattered it and then danced on the broken fucking pieces!”

For the first time since this conversation started Robby looked at her, those big, sad, brown eyes finding hers. He looked like he was about to start crying, like he was only now realising the full extent of what he had done.

“I thought I was doing you a favour…” his voice was soft, his eyes shimmering softly while the sun set beside him.

“You broke my heart, Robby,” she paused for a moment, looking to the side, “And acted like it didn’t affect you at all,” she whispered. Her voice breaking as a single, hot tear ran down her cheek.

“I thought I was doing you a favour,” he repeated himself. She took a deep breath, shaking her head.

“You made a decision that wasn’t yours to make, Robby,” she spoke softly, “Always assuming people only do things because they pity you, doing things because they feel obligated to it. I loved you,” she paused, “I loved you more than anything in this world. I would have given up my career within a beat if you asked me to, I would have built a home with you, a family, I would have worked weeks without taking days off for you, I would have moved mountains and crossed seas for you…” she trailed off for a moment, “And you know what the worst thing is?” she asked, not wanting an answer from him, “I still would do all these things,” she shook her head, “I never stopped loving you and maybe that is my worst fault,” she whispered softly.

Robby looked at her, tears running down his cheeks as he looked at her. His expression filled with pain as his head rolled to the side ever so slightly.

“That’s why you still wear the ring?” his voice cracked as he gestured towards her. A sniffle came from him.

“Yeah, because in my mind if I take off the ring I would let go of you and I can’t do that,” she shook her head, “You can call me stupid, you can call me delusional, but I always had the hope that maybe we could fix things, even if everyone told me to let go,” more tears began to roll down her face. “I never wanted to give up on you,” she whispered softly.

Robby remained fixed in his spot, back straight as he looked at her, the deep sadness in his eyes worse than before. It was like his mind was fighting a war, a war he was not sure he could win. Like his rational mind and his emotions were waging the final battle in a war that had been going on for too long.

As she stood there, looking at him, seeing how the setting sun illuminated him, she knew that this was the last chance they had. This was the last time they could try to fix that broken link between them. Robby opened his mouth, slowly, his eyes growing sadder for a moment, then he shook his head.

“If I told you you deserve someone that didn’t push you away you would yell at me to stop making decisions for you, right?” there was a hint of humour to his pained words, like he was trying to make this less painful.

“I would,” she let out a small laugh, feeling her heart thunder in her chest as she looked at him. Her eyes widened slightly as he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips.

“I missed you,” he spoke so softly, his voice cracking slightly as he did. Those simple words broke the dams, tears began running down her cheeks as she looked at Robby.

“I missed you too,” she whispered as she slowly stepped towards him. Robby met her half way, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in tightly, their bodies still fitting together as perfectly as they had five years ago. They stayed in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity, their breathing slowing down, the tears ebbing away. Robby was the first one to speak after what felt like ages of needed silence between them.

“Do you still have that ugly purple couch?” he asked softly, his cheek still resting against her head.

“Of course I do,” she muttered, “I could never get rid of Mildred,” she muttered into his shoulder, a soft laugh escaping her.

Maybe thing would turn out alright in the end, maybe she would still be able to get her happy end with the man she never stopped loving.

——————————

@ananonymusaffair @clubsoft @letsgobarbs

[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

all fandom masterlist | ahs masterlist | read it on ao3

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 ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

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,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

[mushroom-words]

The Devil Take That Woman || Michael Langdon

Fandom: American Horror Story Pairing: Michael Langdon x Fem!Reader Words: 6318 Notes: Okay, so I'm not totally sold on the ending (I suck at writing endings), but I am pleasantly surprised with how this one turned out. Warnings: Dubious consent, death (mentioned and alluded to but not shown), Dom!Michael, Sub!Reader, Witch!Reader, fingering, hair pulling, choking, gagging, humiliation, crying, violence, spanking, nipple play, slight degradation, pussy slapping, fear arousal, autassassinophilia (paraphilia where a person is sexually aroused by the risk of being killed), spitting, restraints (by magic), biting, brief aftercare. I think that's all, but please please please let me know if I missed anything. Summary: Michael storms Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies and eliminates the witches, but he has a special debt to collect from you.

Special shout out to my girl @langdonss for wholly enabling my lust for this demon spawn.

A SHROUD OF death seemed to loom over the academy. You felt it in the way your sisters were quick to snap at each other’s throats, in the way your powers seemed to fizzle out right when they reached their peak potential, in the way the gardens seemed to wilt. You even saw it in the way the sun and moon shifted positions from day to night.

        It seemed to warn you of an impending danger. An inevitable travesty that would rock the foundation of everything still holding the world together.

        Michael Langdon. His nature threatened humanity at its purest form, and he was rising quicker than anyone could stop him. He had passed the Seven Wonders with disturbing ease. He’d even brought four witches back from the dead as only a small demonstration of the range of his power.

        The warlocks prophesied he was to be the next leader, known as the Alpha—and as Cordelia was fading far quicker than Fiona had crumbled, the future was looking bleak. In a time where the Antichrist was rising exponentially, there was no rest to be had. Every possible avenue must be investigated, and everyone was scrambling for a solution.

        Cordelia prompted your name softly. “Zoe has offered to take over your class this afternoon,” she said, placing a delicate hand atop your shoulder like you were crafted out of the finest glass. “You’ve been working yourself to exhaustion. You need to rest.”

        “We have to be prepared.” You didn’t lift your focus from the material spread out in front of you, your tired eyes desperately soaking up whatever information they could. “The only way to do that is to know everything.”

        Your Supreme’s failing health had your coven fraying at the seams. Mallory looked to be well on her way to rising, and most efforts not centered on Michael Langdon were focused on helping her nurture her magic. But the cloud seemed to be closing in on the young witch too. She was starting to struggle to perform what had come very easily to her just months prior.

        Desperation clawed furiously as the hourglass seemed to empty a little quicker each day. You’d taken to pouring your attention over religious studies. Whatever free time you had available between mentoring your junior witches and helping Mallory, you spent on learning all you possibly could on the Antichrist and its variants. Knowing the enemy was a vital step in defeating them.

        Cordelia sighed. “You’ve done enough for right now, sweetheart,” she said gently. “You won’t be good to anyone if you’ve burned yourself out.”

        You reluctantly looked away from the text and up at her. She offered a soft smile that no longer reached her eyes. There wasn’t much happiness that did anymore, but still, she tried to be strong for her girls. Just as you tried to be strong for her.

        “I couldn’t have asked more from you than what you’ve already given to me yourself, (Y/N).” She pressed a palm against the curve of your cheek. “Give your eyes a small break. Try to get some rest.”

        It was the soft plea in her tone that encouraged you to agree. Plus, the thought of a hot bath was almost too tempting for you to ignore. You’d been staying up at all hours cramming whatever knowledge you could in preparation for the holy fight you felt was edging closer. The prophesied battle of good and evil.

        The marbled bathroom you shared with Queenie was your sanctuary—or, rather, it used to be. Not so much in the past few months. You set out a small pile of towels and your robe so they were within easy reach. Letting the water reach the perfect temperature, you decided to splash in some scented oils and bubble solution before easing into the porcelain tub. The familiar daily activity of Miss Robichaux’s floated up from downstairs. It soothed you to have it as a background noise, reminded you that your sisters were safe for the time being behind the wrought iron gates.

        Right now was the only time that mattered most to you. It was the only time when your decisions could be made and determined to shape the future. What waited beyond right now was unpredictable at best but was utterly frightening to consider.

        You had witnessed Michael Langdon’s ability firsthand. He had presented himself as your savior when he had sauntered up to you while you were reliving the very worst of your repressed memories, magnified by then, just as you’d been since your fatal blunder during the Seven Wonders years ago. The monster of your past had been slain valiantly by the very one who now had the coven tearing their hair from its roots.

        Nobody but Papa Legba had the power to walk the realm of the Underworld—not until Michael Langdon had done the very same, freeing not only you but three of your sisters too.

        It was terrifying what he could do. Even more frightening was what he was written to do.

        A deafening series of gunfire shattered the casual peace. An ear-piercing chorus of shrieks and wails quickly followed suit. Lukewarm water sloshed over either side of the tub as you hastily ejected yourself from submersion. You just stared wide-eyed at the door while the screams of your friends and students—your sisters—echoed through the academy in sharp succession. Everything in you froze. You couldn’t move, forced to just listen to the chaos.

        It fell silent nearly as abruptly as it had erupted. Too silent. Deathly silent.

        Heart pounding and mouth dry, you shakily got to your feet, trying to make as little noise as possible. A million thoughts raced through your mind with enough speed to give you whiplash. There was no satisfactory response to any of them. You wrapped yourself in your plush bathrobe and slowly opened the door to peer into your shared bedroom.

        “Where are they?”

        The smooth tenor chilled you right down to your very soul. Michael Langdon—his voice carried through the halls, which you guessed were now hauntingly void of any of your sister witches. You could only hope that some of them had managed to escape or, at the very least, weren’t too badly injured. From what little you could overhear of the frustrated conversation, you were able to determine that Cordelia, Myrtle, and Mallory had managed to flee from the carnage.

        The small spark of relief you felt at that was, however, short-lived.

        “And what of our dear little friend (Y/N)?” He was dangerously close to your bedroom now. You’d barely heard his footfalls come up the stairs, let alone bring him so near to where you stood frozen. “It would be such a shame if she were whisked away with the other three.”

        You swiftly ducked back inside the bathroom. Not a moment too soon, either, as you heard somebody enter the bedroom just a second after you clicked the lock into place. The footsteps were heavy now. Each crisp step of expensive leather shoes against the polished hardwood flooring sent a fresh wave of dread through you. You backed away from the door slowly, your bare feet merely whispering across the slicked marble.

        The footsteps paused. You held your breath.

        A gust of energy suddenly busted the door down. Your body was thrown through the air and into the opposite wall. The wave crashed just as easily as it had crested, and you crumbled to the floor. Your bones ached at the harsh impact of the hard marble against your soft flesh.

        You reluctantly lifted your head, your blurry eyes trailing from those designer shoes and up the perfectly tailored suit until they met the icy stare of the man—the warlock, the Antichrist himself—who had been strategically chipping away at your sanity ever since he pretended to be your knight in shining armor.

        A lazy smirk presented on those delectably pink lips, but his eyes held nothing but a darkness so deep it coiled invisible shadows around your fallen body. A darkness tinged with bloodlust, satisfaction, twisted amusement, and the excitement of a chase that had finally reached its lethal end.

        “There you are,” he said softly, the words whispering along your skin like silk embedded with daggers. “I’ve been looking for you.”

        He clasped his hands behind his back and took measured steps towards you. You scrambled up to your feet and around to the other side of the bathtub, placing it between you. You’d always wondered why someone would design a bathroom with the tub in the middle of the room, but now you were silently thanking them.

        “Stay away from me, Langdon,” you demanded, your voice coming out much stronger than you felt at the moment.

        “I think we’re past the formalities, (Y/N).” He continued an easy path around the bathroom, taking two steps forward for every one you retreated. “Your sisters are dead, little witch. And the others—well, they’ve left you here to fend for yourself, haven’t they? You’re alone,” he said.

        You were torn between focusing on his approaching figure and being careful on where your feet landed, knowing one wrong move could result in you slipping in the puddles of water. It was difficult to keep your attention divided equally between them. Another step back, another step closer to the door. Not that you even dared to think you could just run out and evade him. But it might give you a fighting chance—if he allowed that much from you.

        Biting back the tears that clung to your lashes, you thrust your hand out towards him. The energy thrumming through your veins centered warmly at your palm. It died there, fizzling out like it had been doing so frequently in recent days.

        He chuckled quietly, the sound causing the hairs on your neck to stand to attention. “That might have worked before,” he said, sauntering closer still. “But I’m too strong now. Your magic is nothing compared to what I have.”

        “What the fuck do you want from me, Langdon?” Fear squeezed your lungs until you were having to fight to get in any oxygen. Your fingers trailed along the edge of the tub to help guide you as you continued backing away. The door was almost within your peripheral vision now.

        “What filthy words to come from such a pretty little mouth.” He clicked his tongue, running it along his teeth and shaking his head as though disappointed in your language. “I already have what I want, little witch. You’re right here.”

        It felt like his words punched a hole in your chest. Your legs started to struggle to hold your weight up, like the realization was too much for your body to handle. Like it wanted you to give in to those feelings you’d fought against following your resurrection.

        Michael Langdon might have needed the coven out of his way to achieve his overall goal, but he was after you specifically. He wasn’t happy that you had run back to your sisters to actively work against him, to give your all into plotting his downfall in order to save humanity from extinction. He wanted to keep you at his side.

        Your coven had been the only reason you���d left him in the first place. If it hadn’t been for their unending love and acceptance, hadn’t been for the family they had given you for all those years, you would have listened to the burning desire you’d held for your savior and run into his arms.

        Even now, in this little game of cat and mouse that had icy fear seizing your heart, you felt the dim fire sizzling in your lower stomach. Your body would always sing out for him regardless of the monster he was. It was a matter of mind over matter—heart versus body.

        “No.” The word came out much too soft to convince anyone of your devotion to your sisters.

        “Yes, little witch.” His voice dropped to a belittling croon that chased shivers up your spine. “You’re mine, and I’m not one to make the same mistake twice,” he told you.

        You acted before you lost the courage to do so. Whirling around on your feet, you lunged for the door. It slammed shut just as your fingers grazed the doorknob. Your body continued to pitch forward, your bare feet losing purchase on the slippery marble. You cried out as you flung towards the floor.

        Michael was in front of you in the blink of an eye. A hand wrapped firmly around your throat, the other planted against the small of your back, bringing your body flush to his. Your hands flew up to his chest to steady yourself as your face was tilted up, forcing you to look at him. Your pulse raced against his touch, lips parted to let loose tiny puffs of air.

        He dipped his head until his ears brushed against the shell of your ear. “You can pretend to fight me—hate me—all you want, if that’s what makes you feel better,” he murmured, his honey voice a sweet caress over your frazzled nerves, “but we both know the truth, (Y/N). You were mine before the ashes of your fragile creation.”

        Your lashes fluttered as you felt his fingers flex against the column of your throat. A turbulent storm churned within you, deafening claps of thunder pounding against the inside of your head and streaks of lightning branching out from your very soul, alighting your body with sin. Your head tilted back, lips parting further to let the pathetic whimper fall from them, your resolve starting to crumble into the very stardust from whence you came.

        The tip of his nose dragged along your jawline. He inhaled deeply before letting the air back out in a contented hum, pulling back just enough for your heavy eyes to gaze into the depths of the devil himself. Your legs buckled beneath you under the weight of his stare, his hand pressing more firmly against your back, keeping you upright and so close you could feel every hard, lean muscle of his body against you.

        “Langdon…” His name fell from your lips like a breathless prayer you begged to have answered. Your fingers curled into his suit, itching to travel north and feel the planes of his chest, the contour of his jaw, the angle of his cheekbones.

        He leaned in. His lips whispered over yours, so close you could taste the cool sin on his tongue. “No. Say my name,” he demanded softly. “I want to hear you say it.”

        Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. Words bubbled up but died on your lips. All the things you wanted to say shriveled up and disintegrated like ash. You’re the devil, you wanted to tell him. A bastard born of sin with a heart of evil. You wanted to spit curses at him, tell him to get his hands off of you, demand he leave you alone and never to darken your doorstep again.

        At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself that you wanted to say. But the words fizzled from your tongue because you knew better. Sometimes the truth was more bitter than the lies.

        “Michael,” you whispered.

        His mouth slanted over yours as soon as the syllables rolled from your tongue. He swallowed every breath, every whimper, every last shred of your resolve as his lips commanded yours. His tongue pried them apart to claim your mouth, mapping out every inch, pushing against you in a dance that left no room for anything but your submission.

        You melted into his touch with a shiver, your body malleable under his hands as your head went blank. All lingering reservations fled your mind at the way he turned you into putty for him to mold into his vision. The tears that clung to your lashes slowly fell in a final fight for the grief and despair that entrapped your heart in bitter vines.

        Michael nipped at your bottom lip before pulling back. He moved the hand at your throat to press against your cheek, dragging his thumb along your cheekbone and tracing your swollen lips. Your watery lashes fluttered as you gazed up at him. He smiled gently at the tears he collected against his fingers.

        “That’s it, little witch,” he murmured. “Cry for me. You look so pretty when you cry.”

        A quiet sob wrenched from your throat. He hummed and slid his hand around to the back of your head. Tapered fingers wove between your damp hair before he suddenly yanked your head back. Your cry was swallowed by his mouth as it descended upon yours, lips hard and hungry and so delightfully sinful that your breath evaporated from your lungs.

        Michael lifted his hand from your back and deftly plucked at the tie holding your bathrobe together. Cool air kissed your skin before the chill was chased away. He palmed your breast, rolling it in his hand and squeezing, a blossoming ache forming beneath his fingers. You arched your back with a whine as he trailed his lips along the curve of your jaw and down to the thin flesh where it met the slope of your neck. He sucked your pulse point into his mouth, dragging his teeth over where it fluttered before sinking them into the skin.

        You mewled pathetically, hands flying from his chest to slide into his hair, fingers grappling at the golden curls as your body trembled with an ache that left your skin flushed. His fingers pinched your nipple, rolling it in his touch before tugging the hardened peak and forcing you to rise up on the tips of your toes. Another cry wrenched from you as he balanced you so perfectly on that precipice between pain and pleasure that had your head floating in the clouds.

        He released your nipple and traced his hand over the curve of your body, dragging his fingers along your flesh until they wedged between your thighs. Your legs threatened to collapse when he cupped your pussy. His name left your swollen lips in a breathless plea, syllables broken and cracked as you shifted to widen your stance for him. He groaned quietly and pulled away from your throat, pausing only to lave his tongue over the pretty imprint he left on your skin. Your hands fell back to his chest as he straightened.

        “So wet already, little witch,” he mused. “Tell me—is this all for me?”

        Michael dipped into your folds, gathering the evidence of your arousal. Shame plucked at your conscience like a harp. Nothing about this situation was right. It was wrong—so very, very wrong. It was the forbidden fruit that always tasted the sweetest.

        He lifted his hand in front of your face. Separating his index and middle finger, showing you the sticky slick that clung to his digits. Closing your eyes, you tried moving your head away, not wanting to be faced with what you already knew. Michael clicked his tongue and grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks and puckering your lips out, your slick smearing across your flesh.

        “Eyes on me, princess,” he demanded softly. You reluctantly brought your gaze back to him, fresh tears clinging to your lashes. He smiled. “Good girl.”

        Michael released your face and tapped his fingers against your lips. They parted in a quivering acquiescence to his silent command. He slipped those fingers into your mouth, pressing them against your tongue and pushing back until you were gagging around them. You tried to raise your hands to his wrist, desperate to dispel his fingers from your mouth, but they remained rooted at his chest—you couldn’t move. Forced to just stand there and take what he decided to give you.

        He smirked as the realization caused your gaze to shutter. “You look so good like this, (Y/N). Gagging, completely at my mercy. You were made for this.”

        Michael yanked your head back further, shoved his fingers deeper until they slid down your throat, and watched you struggle to breathe through your growing panic. Desperate, you bit down, and he merely clenched his teeth against the pain, releasing your hair to grab your chin. He pulled it down so you couldn’t bite anymore, his blunt nails scratching gently across your jaw as he did.

        Only when you were on the verge of either blacking out or vomiting did he withdraw his fingers. A string of saliva kept them tethered to your lips. Coughing and struggling to take in a proper breath, you shoved him away from you, only vaguely registering the magic that had held you prisoner in your body had been lifted.

        “What the fuck, Langdon?” you spat, your voice strained and choked between the gasps of air you sucked down into your lungs.

        Michael tsked and drew you back into him. He whipped you around until your back pressed against his front. His hand cradled your throat, thumb nudging your jaw until your head tipped up. The tip of his nose dragged along your damp cheek.

        “And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere.” He sighed, the exhale fanning across your face. “You’re gonna be screaming my name, little witch, until it’s the only one you remember. Your submission tastes so fucking sweet,” he murmured.

        He kissed your cheek before dragging his tongue over the tears that fell. You shuddered at the wet trail left in its wake, a whimper pushing past your lips as you fell further back into him, eyes growing heavy as his hand squeezed the column of your throat. His fingers pressed on either side of your windpipe until your head was floating back into the clouds of depravity.

        His lips came to rest at your ear, the smooth tenor of his voice prompting your pulse to race at the promise it held. “I’m never letting you run from me again, (Y/N). Even if that means I have to keep you tied to my bed until you realize you belong to me—and there’s nobody left out there to come save you.”

        Keeping his hand around your throat, he walked you forward until you stood before the bathtub. When your legs hit the porcelain, he pressed his lips to your temple, released a contented hum, and shoved you forward. Your hands flew out to catch yourself before you were dunked in the water, a sharp gasp pulling from your lungs as you gripped onto the opposite ledge, keeping yourself held up.

        “Langdon—”

        He brought his hand down sharply on your bottom, cutting off your words with a quiet cry. Your hair was roughly twisted in his fingers as he yanked your head back, forcing your neck to arch at a near impossible angle that had your thighs shaking as your bare feet slipped in the water on the marble floor. The only thing keeping you upright were his hips pinning you against the bathtub.

        Michael flipped the bottom of your bathrobe up to your lower back and spanked you again. “That’s not what you call me, (Y/N),” he said calmly, rubbing his palm over the stinging flesh. “Try again, princess.”

        Your fingers grappled at the ledge of the tub. You tried to push yourself up, to gain a bit more leverage, but quickly realized you were once again held completely at his mercy. Magic kept you exactly where he wanted you—stuck in place, completely at his mercy, unable to move anywhere past where he positioned you.

        The sensitive flesh of your inner thighs grew slick with your growing arousal. It forced a pathetic moan from your throat, eyes slamming shut as the humiliation swirled with the lingering shame. Your soul was tainted. Corrupted. Black as the sin that shrouded the magnificent Boy Wonder whose destiny laid out a path for world domination.

        Maybe he had sensed it in you when he’d pulled you back from hell. Like calls to like—and maybe your soul was so twisted, so deliciously depraved, that it reached out for him like a red string of fate.

        Maybe this was where you were meant to be. At his mercy. Under his control.

        The Antichrist’s little pet.

        “I can’t hear you, little witch,” he said after a moment, leaning down to whisper the unholy filth into your ear. “Who do you belong to?”

        “Y-You,” you whimpered, feeling yourself falling further from grace with each passing breath.

        “And what’s my name?”

        “Michael…”

        “Good girl.” He shoved your head back down, your face stopping just a mere inch away from the water. His boot nudged at your feet until your legs spread to his satisfaction.

        Two fingers suddenly pushed into your cunt. No resistance—he just slipped in easily, the realization making your face burn as you acknowledged just how turned on you were for this man. This fucking beast of hell. Your mouth popped open in a soft moan, your legs already shaking under the expertise of his touch.

        You were already falling apart for him, and he’d only just gotten started.

        He curled his fingers to press against a spot inside of you—a spot you hadn’t realized existed until now—that threatened to wipe away any sense left inside your mushy brain. Your body quivered like a leaf caught in the wind, senseless noises slipping from your lips, your walls fluttering around his digits as slick leaked out to coat his hand.

        Every attempt to push back against his fingers only stoked the frustration bubbling inside your chest. You whined, clenching your jaw as he dragged his fingers against your gummy walls, stroking you so beautifully that stars started to pop off in your vision.

        “Look at you, little witch,” he mused, scissoring his fingers inside of you, twisting them with every plunge inside of your cunt, drawing obscenely wet noises from where he worked you. “You’re drooling for me, aren’t you? What would your dear Supreme say, hmm?”

        A silent sob wrenched from your throat, your eyes slamming shut as you desperately tried and failed to rock back against him. Your breaths were starting to come out in ragged gasps, your chest heaving, bottom lip sore and swollen from how hard you’d embedded your teeth into it. The tang of blood trickled onto your tongue when you bit down on a particularly rough plunge of his fingers.

        Michael chuckled and brought his hand down on your ass, coaxing a high-pitched squeal from you at the burn that mingled with the fire stoked in your lower stomach. “Answer me, (Y/N),” he said—you didn’t need to be looking at him to know he was smirking, taking a twisted enjoyment out of your body’s reaction to him. “How would Cordelia feel if she knew what a sweet little harlot her precious witch is for the devil’s spawn?”

        More tears squeezed from your lashes to drip down into the cool water below you. Your senses were going haywire, your body fighting with your mind, your heart with your soul. How could someone so fucking evil make you feel so damn good—bring you to heights of pleasure you’ve never dared venture before with just his touch? God, Cordelia would be so damned ashamed of you if she knew. All of your sisters would.

        Consorting with the enemy was one thing. Submitting to the Antichrist, laying yourself bare and all but begging him to fuck you, was another entirely. You were unbelievably pathetic. Disgusting. Living up to a witch’s reputation as the devil’s whore.

        He promptly withdrew his fingers at your silence and smacked your pussy. You cried out, struggling against the magic holding you in place. Then he shoved three digits back inside of you, his motions much rougher than before, blunt nails scraping against your walls to create an illusion of bliss that teetered with pain.

        “I’m feeling generous, princess, so I’m going to give you one more chance,” he sneered. “Now tell me—how ashamed would your Supreme be if she saw you spread out like this for me?”

        “She—She’d hate me,” you cried. The truth slammed into your chest, breaking your heart into a million little pieces to be picked up later. But it was overridden by the overwhelming desire flooding your system. Your walls clenched around his fingers, the band of lust around your chest tightening to a breaking point. Every muscle was tensed and coiled, prepared to release as soon as that coil snapped.

        Michael hummed, then you heard him spit, felt the saliva land on your ass and slowly trail down to where he was plunging into you. You groaned as it mixed with the evidence of your arousal, listening to the way your slick squelched with every movement. Your legs shook almost violently from the expert way he played you like a fiddle, knowing exactly where to press his fingers and how deep to draw out your pleasure.

        “Fuck, Michael,” you mewled, your breath catching in your throat as you felt the wave start to crest, a mere foam on the horizon. “P-Please…”

        “Please what, princess?” he cooed, suddenly twisting those wicked fingers just right, making you cry out in pure, filthy desperation for him to bring you to release. “Are you gonna cum, little witch?”

        “Yes,” you sobbed. Your neck was starting to ache from keeping your head held up above the water, your hips from being pressed against the sides of the tub.

        Michael traced up the curve of your spine, the heat of his palm radiating through the plush robe, before weaving his fingers back into your hair. He gripped tight but didn’t pull your head up like you expected him to. Instead he leaned forward, his front pressing against your back in firm lines and lean muscle, placing his lips right back at your ear.

        “Deep breath, (Y/N),” he instructed coolly. 

        You sucked in a breath at his words but didn’t have the chance to let it back out when he suddenly shoved your head under the cold water. Your eyes popped open only to be met with the sting of the oils and bubble solution you’d poured in there earlier. Panic gripped at your chest. You still couldn’t move, but you thrashed your head, trying desperately to dislodge his grip from your hair.

        His fingers withdrew from your cunt but were quickly replaced. Michael snapped his hips forward, sheathing his cock inside of you in a single thrust. Immediately your mouth opened to release a muted scream. The bath water filled your mouth, sucking down your throat and into your burning lungs. Your entire body shook beneath him. The panic turned into the purest form of fear you had ever felt, topping the dread you’d had when you’d found yourself in Papa Legba’s clutches.

        Michael reached around your hips to place his fingers at your swollen clit. He rubbed it in tight, quick circles that almost instantly catapulted you over that ledge. Your walls clenched around him, your slick coating his cock as the coil finally snapped, a fire branching outwards to burn its way through your body. It licked its way down to your toes and the tips of your fingers.

        Darkness started to edge into your vision like a vignette. Your lungs screamed for oxygen. You tried holding your breath for as long as you could even through the tremors of your orgasm, through the feeling of Michael fucking you, his cock stretching your walls to their limit, filling you to the brim in a way you would be crying for if you hadn’t been on the verge of drowning.

        Was this his way of making sure you never ran away from him again—was he going to fuck you until your heart stopped beating?

        Just when you were about to try to breathe, when you thought you were going to pass out, he pulled your head back up to the surface. You greedily tried to suck air down into your lungs. Immediately you began to cough, dispelling the water you’d ingested past your burning throat. Michael wrapped his arm around your throat and yanked you to hold you to him. The grip was light enough not to constrict your breathing, but you were too far gone to appreciate it, let alone realize the magic gluing you in place had been lifted.

        He continued to rub your clit, the overstimulation linking with the oxygen deprivation and near-drowning experience to force you into a floaty headspace where nothing made sense. Static buzzed in your ears and your vision was overtaken by a flash of white. Everything hurt—yet, you’d never felt so high up in the clouds.

        More water pushed past your lips just as you were dragged into the depths of a second release. You would have collapsed if it hadn’t been for Michael holding you up, pinning you against his body as he continued to thrust up into you, his grunts fizzling through the static to reach your ears. You thought you might have heard some semblance of words but couldn’t make them out through everything beating you into a pile of malleable clay to be molded by his hands.

        Rising higher and higher, everything around you blanked out until you were no longer aware of anything. Maybe he actually had killed you, and this was a sort of limbo space before you would be dragged back to Papa Legba, forced to relive your very worst nightmares over and over again for the rest of eternity.

        Would he leave your body there, or would he dispose of you? Would Cordelia, Mallory, and Myrtle eventually return to the academy to find you cold on the bathroom floor, surrounded by water and marked by the beast?

        Your lashes fluttered as the static surrounding you started to fizzle out. The first thing you heard was your ragged breathing, your lungs still crying out for precious air, your chest heaving as you struggled to give them what they needed. Then his voice floated inside your head. It started out as a mere whisper, muffled like you were still held under the water, but gradually became more clear.

        “You’re okay, (Y/N). Breathe with me.”

        Then you felt him. Felt his lips pressing against your temple and your cheek. You felt his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, felt the thrum of his heart in his chest. An arm was wrapped around your waist. His fingers brushed through your hair, keeping it out of your face.

        You blinked heavily as more of the world returned to you. Your head was lolled back on his shoulder. His cologne filtered through your nose. Your lips parted as a quiet moan slipped past them, your tongue heavy in your mouth.

        He tightened his hold around your waist. “Breathe with me,” he repeated, taking in slow, deep breaths. Unable to do much else, you focused on following his pattern until your own breathing had evened out. “Good girl. There’s my little witch.”

        Clarity starts to bleed back into your system now that your brain was getting an adequate supply of oxygen. You silently took in your surroundings through heavy eyes, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Michael had you between his legs as he sat on the ledge of the bathtub. Your cunt ached in a way that only came from being fucked beautifully, and you could feel the sticky liquid seeping out to coat your inner thighs. You were empty now, meaning he was no longer inside of you.

        “What—” You winced at the rawness of your throat, the raspiness of your voice. “What the actual fuck, Langdon?”

        Michael chuckled softly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. The intimate feel of it made you shudder. His chest rumbled with the sound. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your manners already, princess,” he said. “I’d be more than happy to remind you.”

        You rolled your head away from him. “Fuck off, Michael,” you scowled, spitting his name like it left a vile taste in your mouth.

        His hand shot out to grab your jaw, twisting your head back around to face him. Crystal eyes met yours in a clash of hardened ice that made your stomach lurch. Your breath hitched in your throat, lips parting to let loose the last of it before the rest got stuck in your windpipe.

        “Don’t mistake my mercy for weakness, little witch,” he said coolly. “You’re only alive because I’ve made it so. Watch your tongue.”

        Michael suddenly pushed you off of him. Legs still shaky, you stumbled but kept on your feet. He stood to his full height as you whirled around to face him. It was with a rush of disdain that you took note of his put-together appearance. He looked as he did when he first barged into the bathroom. Then there was you—drowned in the water that filled your lungs, bathrobe hanging open, flesh on display with pretty bruises blossoming against your abused skin and lashes clumped with teary remnants.

        He sauntered up to you as you fumbled with the tie on your robe. His hand wrapped around the column of your throat, pulling you closer to him. You resisted the urge to shove him off of you, a heavy realization of being totally, completely fucked draping over you.

        Michael Langdon owned you. You were his to do with as he pleased.

        “What a pretty little thing you are,” he mused, smirking at the way your pulse fluttered beneath your touch. Your fire hadn’t yet been snuffed out, but you had the good sense to bite your tongue, even if he could hear all of the insults you wished to throw at him passing through your mind. “Tell me, (Y/N)—who do you belong to?”

        You swallowed thickly against his hand. “You, Michael,” you said softly. “I belong to you.”

[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.

[angelltheninth]

Random Fandoms

SFW - The Greek Gods Try to Win Your Heart

NSFW - Realizing Fiyero Is Probably Really Into Being Pussydrunk

SFW and NSFW - Oh Sangwoo as Your Toxic Boyfriend

SFW - Berserk Trio Kissing Headcanons

SFW - Nicknames Percy de Rolo Would Have For You

SFW - Husband!Gun Park Reassures You when You Get Post-Pregnancy Stretch Marks

NSFW - Guts Goes From a Gentle Lover to A Rough One

SFW - Teammates to Lovers with Sung Jinwoo

SFW - Choi Su-Bong Is Your Possessive Boyfriend

NSFW - Levi Ackerman Cleans You Up After Sex

NSFW - Having Sex with Maui

SFW - An Injured Gun Park Asks You to Be His Girlfriend

SFW - Guts Falls in Love with You

SFW - Jin "Jiji" Enjoji Walks You to Class

NSFW - Antinous x Fem!Reader - The Fire in Your Souls

SFW - Giving Sung Jinwoo a Massage

SFW - Morning After with the Greek Gods

SFW - Possessive Yandere CEO Hires You to Be His Secretary

NSFW - Emperor Geta Fucks You During a Feast

NSFW - Oh Sangwoo Marks You Up

NSFW - Hate Sex and Banter with Griffith

NSFW - Male!Kidnappers x Fem!Reader - A Good Girl's Corruption

NSFW - Karlach Eating You Out + Temperature Play

SFW - Sparing and Flirting with Guts

SFW - Kisses for Cover with Dogyeong and Isu Baek

NSFW - Prone Bone with Jinshi

NSFW - Luchino Diruse Loses Control While You're Giving Him a Blowjob

SFW - Coriolanus Snow + Arranged Marriage

SFW - Sung Jinwoo Becomes a Yandere After Getting Stronger

NSFW - Marcus Acacius Wants to Start a Family with You

SFW - Public Affection with Homelander

NSFW - Lucius Verus Breeds You in a Gladiator Cell

SFW - Dating Chat Noir

SFW - Telling Sung Jinwoo That He Means the World to You

NSFW - Solder Boy Bends and Fucks You Over the Table

SFW - Raging when Percy de Rolo and Vax'ildan Get Hurt

NSFW - Making Mickey Barnes a Whimpering Mess

NSFW - Somnophilia with Sung Jinwoo

NSFW - Ao Bing De Fucks You in the Back of the Car

SFW - Public Love Confession from Fiyero Tigelaar

NSFW - Apollo and Hermers + Fingering

SFW - The Love Languages of the Berserk Trio

SFW - First Relationship with Dante, Mary "Lady" Arkham and Virgil

NSFW - Sung Jinwoo Using His Powers to Dominate You During Sex

SFW - Dating a Yandere White Rabbit

NSFW - Size Kink with One Piece Men

SFW - Michael Robinavitch Makes Take a Break From Work

SFW - Yandere Tattooist Falls in Love With You

NSFW - Dante Teasing You While You Ride His Cock

NSFW - Jack Abbot Fucks You in a Medical Closet

NSFW - Reunion Sex with Vash the Stampede

SFW - Flirty Dante and Virgil

NSFW - Poseidon Visits You After Being Injured by Odysseus

SFW - Dante Sparda Has a Crush on You

SFW - Your Routine While Dating Frank Langdon

NSFW - Ursa Einarsdottir Comes Back to You After a Battle

NSFW - Yandere Stalker Sends Videos of Himself to You

NSFW - Jinu Captures and Fucks You

SFW - Grumpy x Sunshine Roommates with Kenji "Ken" Sato

NSFW - Hooking Up with Jinu in the Bathroom

NSFW - Poseidon Heals Up and Returns the Favor

[ovaryacted]

THE PITT MASTERLIST (2025)

KEY: ⚡︎ - most recent, ⚠︎ - dark content warning, ꕥ - author's pick

⤷ DR. JACK ABBOT

✩ ── ONE SHOTS

▹ GREEDY - Dr. Jack Abbot x fem! reader | 3k ꕥ

▹ OFF THE LEDGE - Dr. Jack Abbot x fem! reader | 4.6k ⚠︎

✮ ── DRABBLES/THOUGHTS

▹ Husband! Jack Abbot leaving you sticky notes ▹ Jack Abbot & having a breeding kink ▹ Jack Abbot Wearing glasses in bed

⤷ DR. MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH

✩ ── ONE SHOTS

▹ SPECIAL TREATMENT - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem! reader | 1.2k

✮ ── DRABBLES/THOUGHTS

▹ TBA

⤷ DR. FRANK LANGDON

✩ ── ONE SHOTS

▹ DISTRACTIONS - Dr. Frank Langdon x fem! reader | 4.9k

✮ ── DRABBLES/THOUGHTS

▹ TBA

⤷ DR. SAMIRA MOHAN

✩ ── ONE SHOTS

▹ FIND OUT - Dr. Samira Mohan x fem! reader | 3.2k ⚡︎

✮ ── DRABBLES/THOUGHTS

▹ TBA

©️ ovaryacted 2023-2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

[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! 😊

[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

[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!