#ok i’ll stop being a salesmen in the tags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stupidocupido · 5 years

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Tag, you’re it | 1

‘Running through the parking lot, he chased me and he wouldn’t stop. Tag you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it.’

Witch!reader has an ache for her worst enemy. To get rid of this feeling she visits him in hell, but her plan does not go as she expected it to go...

This fic is posted at the archive as well.

Warnings: (slightly) non-con, mastrubation, smut, dubious themes, angst, unhealthy obsession, stalking, fluff, bondage, degrading, cat/mouse games, heavy on plot. It’s a long piece, I am sorry. But it works better like this.

a/n: ok, so michael died the same way and all, but he was not the kid mallory killed. I’m slightly bending canon, but who cares this is a fanfic and fuck canon details. Reader and Michael had some sort of relationship before the events of this piece.

Songbased as usual: tag you’re it / melanie martinez

“Looking at me through your window. Boy, you had your eye out for a little. ‘I’ll cut you up and make you dinner. You reached the end, you are the winner’.”

Whether it is placed in the real world or in hell, the so called ‘Murder House’ always seems to radiate something sinister. Even if the only ghost who lives there now is him. She never had been inside the house, but she had heard the story Madison told them. It’s an impressive building, the gothic look of it reminding her of places that only exist in fiction.

Her eyes stay upon the house for a short while, taking in the beauty of it. Like a moth attracted to light, she always had been attracted to things that give her feelings she cannot explain.

A house famous because of its bloody past, abandoned buildings, a forest at night. She is the type to walk towards the moaning of pain instead to walk away from it. The girl who probably is the first to get murdered in a slasher movie, just because she can’t resist the enteral pull of curiosity for the things unknown.

The murder house calls out her name like a desperate salesmen who only needs one more sale to reach his quota would. But she does not enter the house of death, instead she walks across the street to break into his grandmother’s house.

Roses are decorating her garden, their smell so vivid in her nose, it makes her wonder if she truly is in the place where cruel souls end up. This world is as empty as any politician’s words would be, the only habitants this world has are him, and now her.

She wonders if he felt her coming into his world. He must have felt the shift of power, must know he isn’t the only one here any longer. Maybe he already is here, watching her from behind the curtains of the house across the street. Maybe his crystal eyes are following her form breaking into the house where he had been loved and hurt a long time ago.

She can’t imagine him to live willingly in his grandmother’s house, for how much nostalgia the place may hold, it was also the place where his heart got broken for the last time.

Her index finger is collecting the dust that lays upon the furniture. Her eyes scanning over the pictures decorating the walls. Constance Langdon might have been the worst, deserving to be in a hell as well, she at least did love her children. Even if it was in a twisted unhealthy way.

The house had been left behind as if Constance still had been there minutes ago. She guesses it is the beauty and cruelty of this world. This world, despite being empty, has been lived in. The torture of the thought they all once were here but now no longer are, must be enough to make any sane person go insane.

Michael has been abandoned by everyone his whole life, it only makes sense for him to be completely alone in his hell.

A cigarette is still burning in the ashtray, a tea cup filled with something stronger standing next to it. There is music coming from a small stereo, some song that makes her think about the sixties. The kitchen is cleaner than the hallway was. There are roses upon the kitchen counter, freshly plucked from her garden. She isn’t entirely sure what day or period this hell is designed around, but it seems to be summer.

There are a lot of things she isn’t sure of, starting with why she decided to come here. It all ends with this particular decision as well, it all ends with him. Michael Langdon, the one she hates so much it makes her blood boil to just think about him. But he is also the one she wants so much it makes her bones ache, her muscles sore and her head spin. And that was the reason why she came here, to feel what she had felt so many moons ago again.

Drowning the burning liquid from the cup away, a cigarette smoking between her fingers. The kitchen slowly growing dark as night takes the day. She doubts Michael will recognize her, they had never met each other in this timeline after all. A game she has to play again very carefully, a game she had thought out long before coming here.

Michael Langdon will find her interesting once again, if not only because of the fact she will be the first human he’ll see in months. He will not bite at the very moment he sees her, she knows it. Michael Langdon likes to hunt for things and she will make sure he’ll think she’s the one being chased.

Days go by, and slowly the loneliness of this world is starting to get to her. She tries to make the most of it, trying to find a new adventure every day.

Visiting museums, watching movies in an empty cinema. Getting herself drunk on Moët, to pass away in the same bar hours later. Every morning she returns to Constance’s house. But there never is a sign of him. After day ten she starts to wonder if she didn’t make a huge mistake coming here. Maybe he isn’t even in this city, maybe he decided to make the best of his days as well. And for the first time she is not confident with the plans she made, maybe it had all been for nothing. Maybe she did willingly lock herself up in hell way before her actual past time.

Day twenty nine she spends being drunk, smashing everything in Constance’s house. The floors covered in glass dust, pictures burning in the kitchen. Rose petals bruising between her fingers, skin cut open because of the thorns, blood covering her face as she swipes the sweat of her forehead. She screams until her throat is sore and her lungs are hurting. She screams until sobs are all that come out.

She doesn’t care for her plan at all in this moment, all she wants is for the loneliness to go away. She falls asleep in the middle of the ravaged garden, wishing for the first time she never had come here.

She wakes up with her lashes wet with morning dew. Her body cold and aching, the sky coloured a light pink above her. The garden is as beautiful as it was before her breakdown, the smell of roses filling up her senses. A groan escapes her when she tries to sit up, despite the world turning back to its original state, her body does not. Maybe it is because she does not truly belong here, a thought that both excites and saddens her. This world is in a way an extension of him, to not belong to him a blessing and a curse at the same time. She wants to be wanted but she wants to exorcise him from her heart as well.

As fast as her aching body allows her to move, she makes her way inside, her index finger tracing the in dust covered furniture once again. It all is the same, it is as if she never had been here before.

And it indeed is all the same, except for one thing. A small thing she wouldn’t have noticed, didn’t she grow to know this kitchen so well. The cigarette is still burning in the ashtray, the same song is playing from the radio. It is the cup that had changed, for there is steam coming from it. She almost trips over her own feet when she tries to make her way to the table. Clumsily she falls down on the wooden chair, her hands reaching out for the cup. The tea is fresh, the faint smell of jasmine coming from the steaming liquid. Everything is the same, but nothing really is. Her smile hidden in the cup as she gratefully takes a sip. She tries not to feel too good about herself, for this is only the start of everything. But she can’t help it, a victorious feeling filling up her aching body. Finally she had caught Michael’s attention.

“Rolling down your tinted window. Driving next to me real slow, he said, ‘Let me take you for a joyride, I’ve got some candy for you inside’.”

The game truly had begun now. With every move she makes, she considers how it will look to him. She continues living her days like she did before, not wanting him to know she knows. This might be the most exciting part of the game to her, to have the control while pretending to have none.

“If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.” She sings along with the song, a bottle of white wine in her right hand. She swings around the living room, she’s a bit tipsy. The bottle brought to her mouth, the drink spilling over her chin from being too greedy.

She dances around the house as if she owns it, she climbs the stairs for the first time. In the time she had been here, she never really explored the house properly. She wonders if there will be traces from Michael living here as well. Would hell be that cruel, to show him memories of when things were better?

Ofcourse it is cruel like that, with her left hand she had opened what she supposed used to be his bedroom. Toys are still lying around at the floor, the bed is neatly made, but the rest of the room is messy. Clothing that belongs to a much younger child he is right now lie folded upon the bed. Children books are stacked upon the nightstand next to the bed.

She sits down on the bed, placing the almost empty bottle beside the books. Her eyes scanning the room, trying to collect her thoughts. Here was where Michael Langdon once killed a priest, but it is also where he used to be innocent. The place where his grandmother had told him bed time stories, the place where he had been a child unknowing of its future.

This is the place where he once felt save. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, tongue suddenly dry. How would his life have been if he weren’t the anti-Christ? Would he be as fucked up as Tate, or would he be a good child, a good human? She sighs, leaning back on the bed, her eyes falling upon the teddy bear that lies lonely next to the pillow. She finds disappointment in the fact that they will never know how life would have been if Michael Langdon wasn’t born evil.

Boring, she thinks later, her face pressed into the blue pillow. It would be boring, her drunken mind repeats it again. The sheets smell like him, she had forgot about how he smelled. Boring, life would be better, but it would be boring without him. No matter how wicked their games were, she had loved them nonetheless. She falls asleep with her face pressed into his pillow, reminiscing past events that had made her come to this hell in the first place.

The basket hanging at her right arm is filled with groceries. Sweets, fresh fruit, expensive coffee, that one cereal brand Coco never allowed her to buy. The only thing she likes about this world is that everything is free. The dress she wears today has a pastel pink colour, it falls just over her knees. The colour making her look more innocent than she truly is. It is all on purpose, she wants to be seen as weak as possible. To drive him insane to the point he no longer can hold himself back. She likes to push him to the edge, enjoys to be the one who will let him lose all control. She just has to be smart about it, soon enough she will have for what she came.

She sleeps in his childhood bed every night now. The sheets still carry the smell of him, like they will do for forever. After the third night she is sure he is in her room when it gets dark. She notices it in the small changes. A toy not lying were it normally lies. The window not properly closed, the bedroom door closed instead of almost closed. And like the ‘fool’ she is, she pretends she doesn’t notice it at all.

A dripping path goes from the bathroom to his room. Her body still wet from the shower, a wicked glint in her eyes. She’s been doing this the whole week now. Walking around naked as if she’s not being watched. The last sun rays that are coming through the window are hitting her body. He’s here, she is sure of it. She almost wants to open the closet, or peek under the bed. Just to freak him out. Maybe he’s using magic to conceal himself and is he standing right behind her. Is he close enough to touch? If she closes her eyes it’s easy for her to pretend he is. His hand hovering over shoulder, his eyes plastered upon her ass.

She lies down on the bed, not bothering to hide her body beneath the sheets. The evenings are always hot, it’s only natural for her to not lie beneath the covers. She spreads her legs, her hands hovering over her body. Stopping at her breast, with her index finger she circles the areola. She’s growing frustrated with his lack of action. She didn’t have a mental break down for him to ignore her again.

Her nose pushed into the brown fur of the teddy bear, did Michael sleep with this bear as well? Did he give it name? Was this stuffed animal once filled with his tears? The thought of small Michael clutching onto the bear to find comfort hits her harder than she thought it would. She does not want to feel for him, the only thing she wants from him is his dick. The only thing she wants to feel is lust, not empathy for the bad childhood he had.

Lust, she misses Michael. How he’d been able to crawl underneath her skin without really trying. How he had exactly know what she had wanted before she spoke of it. God, she misses him so much. His open mouthed kisses against her throat, his fingers tracing the veins on her wrist. His moans swallowed away by her mouth, his hands upon her breasts. Her tongue licking at his skin, her hand wrapped around his throat when he was younger. His around hers when they met again in the outpost. His cold rings striking her hot skin. His long fingers filling her cunt during dinner, her knees raw from sitting too long upon them. His pulled out hair between her fingers like silk, her body marked by his mouth, teeth and hands. They had hated each other, they had wanted each other. The most exciting part of their relationship was that she never knew if he would kill or fuck her.

She needs it again, maybe this time without the murder part. She will fuck him and leave hell again. The ache would be gone, she would be able to live her life further without him. But he must be the first one to show his teeth. He must feel save enough around her, he must think he had caught his prey. And after that, she would leave him, her departure hopefully tearing him apart.

He had hurt her, disappointed her even. For killing her sisters but not her. For giving her the false pretense he had cared enough to spare her. For her lovesick heart to realize he only had spared her because he knew he would be bored in the future again. No one knows how to fuck Michael Langdon over like her, so it made sense for him to keep her around. She will fuck this version of Michael so good he will forever mourn the loss of her pussy when she leaves him again.

She pushes the bear between her legs, needing the friction. Her hand pushes the innocent stuffed animal against her core. The thought of dirtying something from his childhood making her hornier than it should make her. Her hips pushing up, rubbing against the teddy bear like it is his hand. She does not let the moan that threatens to escape her in. Let him know she’s having fun, let him know she’s deviling his favourite childhood toy. She is careful enough to not moan his name, but it is him she thinks about. The thought of him hiding here somewhere almost enough to make her come. She hopes he sees everything she does, that he enjoys the show she’s putting up just for him.

Maybe he is touching himself as well right now, his eyes closed as he tries to be silent. His large hand wrapped around his cock, sweat glistering upon his brow. Oh, how she wishes to taste him again. To lick away his salty sweat, to wrap her mouth around his pretty cock. To suck him off until he comes, moaning her name so loud it will be echoing through the room. She wants to be used by him, to feel this deep ache in her core for days after. Fuck, she needs to have him inside her. She pushes the bear away, ignoring the wetness that dirtied its fur. She only needs to tease herself a little with her fingers, sliding into herself with ease. She does not want it to be over this soon, but she had been too long without Michael. Her breathing hastily coming from her nose, her body moving desperately against her own hand. She bites her tongue until she tastes blood to keep herself from screaming his name when she comes.

“Running through the parking lot, he chased me and he wouldn’t stop. Tag you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it.”

“Are you real?” His voice echoes through the empty grocery store isles. She is shocked to hear his voice, her body stiffening, the mango she just took falling from her hands. It feels like her stomach is jumping up, his voice so familiar yet so unfamiliar. Goosebumps spreading over her body, not out of fear, but out of recognition.

She turns around in one fluid motion, her eyes catching his. She did not expect to feel how she feels. He looks different from how she remembers him. His hair short, his curls giving him a youthful look.

He’s wearing a black t-shirt and shorts. It kinda looks like he just rolled out of his bed. Maybe he did, stalking her must be tiring. Seeing him likes this makes her remember exactly why she came her. God, he is so attractive, it’s unfair. She wants to run towards him, wrap her arms around his shoulders and kiss him. Crazy with want, she takes a step back before she does what her mind tells her to do.

“I don’t know, are you?” Taking a step back had been the wise idea, it strengthens the faux feelings of fear she is supposed to feel. And then he does something she did not expect him to do. He starts to cry. Without having a second thought about it, she walks his way. She never had seen him cry, it surprises her how much she dislikes it. She only had known him as this cocky powerful monster, never realizing he was human as well. She wraps her arms around him when she is standing beside him.

Eagerly he leans into her hug, face pressed against her shoulder. She pushes her face into his hair, sniffing in his smell. Her hands stroking his back, as his tears wet her shirt. She is overwhelmed with the feeling being this near Michael gives her. She knew she had wanted him, but she didn’t expect it to be this intense. Just being near him makes her want to throw off all her clothes. His tears creating feelings she never thought she would have for him. She wants to kiss his pain away, hold him until he feels whole again.

“What’s your name?” She asks him, her hands still stroking his back. It feels weird to be this soft with him, to comfort him. “Michael.” His teary eyes look straight into hers. She gives him a smile. “I am Baby.” She does not tell him her real name, she never planned to do it. She doesn’t want this Michael to know her. “Baby?” She laughs because of his confused tone. “My parents really like the movie ‘Dirty Dancing’. I was named after their favourite character.” Michael smiles at this. “I can’t believe you are real. I never thought I would ever see someone again.” She almost feels guilty for her plan to leave him again after she gets what she came for. “Neither did I. But we’re not alone anymore.”

She proposes to go to ‘her’ home, so they can talk for a bit. Something he ofcourse agrees on.

They walk side by side in silence for a while. Until she breaks the silence, her steps slowing down. “Where have you been living?” Michael shrugs, his eyes going up to find the blue sky. “Everywhere, to be honest. I don’t like to stay in one house.” She almost let’s out a snort because of the lie. As if he wasn’t stalking her the past couple weeks. “This world is an explorer’s wet dream.” She says instead, giving him a grin. “Is there anything outside the city? I was too, uh, busy to explore.” She doesn’t want to mention the complete mental break down she had only a week ago. “Yeah, I think this world is pretty much a copy of the living one. But, you know, emptier.”

Living one, funny he calls it like that. “So you died as well?” Her heart skips a beat when she asks the question, she is curious for his response. She’s looking at his face, to analyze his precise reaction. He keeps his tone light, his head turning into her direction. “I am pretty sure I did, yes.” After that they’re silent again, until they arrive at his grandmother’s house. “This is where I’ve been living.” Michael his eyes scan the place, he’s acting as if he does not know the place. It amuses her a little. “Why this house?” He asks her then, a question that surprises her. “I guess I just loved the roses. It reminded me of my childhood.”

They talk the whole night, getting to ‘know’ each other. She soon realizes this Michael is nothing like the Michael she had known. In a way they are the same, but this Michael is way softer than ‘her’ Michael was. She is not sure if she likes it, but being around him excites her too much to think too much about the fact they’re not the same person.

The one that’s living in her memories will never be hers again, a fact she isn’t able to accept. For now she just keeps on hoping she will find what she’s looking for in the different version of him.

They’ve been living for three weeks together in his childhood home. Falling into an easy almost domestic like routine. She still sleeps in his childhood bedroom, he sleeps on the couch. She can’t blame him for not wanting to sleep in his late grandmother’s bed. At times like these she wished they could be honest with each other. She wants to to know his mind, with each day they are spending together, the less she thinks about the reason why she actually came here.

They talk a lot, more than she did with the original Michael. Being around him feels natural, comfortable. Every day they do whatever they like, eat whatever they want to eat. They have all the time of the world, and although she is not the most patient person, she does not mind her game is taking this much time to unfold.

For today they traveled outside the city. Deciding to picnic somewhere where they can hear the ocean.

“Baby, if you could go back to the real world, would you?” He suddenly asks her. He is leaning on his elbows, watching her. She takes of her sunglasses, pretending to think hard about his question. Ofcourse she will go back to the real world, it had been her plan all along. “To be honest, I don’t know. Everything happens for a reason after all. Maybe this is what I deserve.” He thinks a couple minutes about her lie. “What would you do if the opportunity presented itself?” She asks then.

“I am not sure. I would want to go back, but I am not sure if I have much to go back to.” Her eyebrows raise after his words. What is he talking about? He still had his grandmother, maybe in the other timeline Ms. Mead would have found him as well. “Did I tell you how I died?”

She shakes her head, wondering what he will tell her. “I was killed.” There is so much sorrow in his voice that it shocks her. Her hand going to her mouth, to cover her shocked expression. She hopes this is the reaction that fits his sentence the best. How does anyone react to a confession like that anyway?

“Why were you killed?” She needs to know if he’s evil. She needs to know if he truly was innocent when he died. “I don’t know, the car just came out of nowhere. The only thing I know is that I deserve to be in hell.” Tears are forming in his young eyes. She feels for this Michael, her heart aches for him. Without really thinking about it she pushes his hair back, keeping it from falling in his face. “This can’t truly be hell. How can this be hell when we found each other?” It’s a filthy lie, a desperate manipulative lie she so badly wants to believe herself as well. She wishes it was the truth, for this hell to turn into their heaven.

He smiles at her, something had changed in his eyes, but she can’t exactly name what has. “Do you really think so?” His words come out carefully, as if when he would say them too loud they will lose their meaning. “Yes, we no longer are alone. That does have to mean something right?” He looks at her as if he wants to kiss her, and she wishes he did. He lies down instead, his eyes looking up to the sky. She joins him, their shoulders touching as they bath in the afternoon sun.

Her thoughts wander to the coven she had left behind. Time in hell passes differently than the time in the world of the living does. Are they missing her already? Or did they just assume she left them? She didn’t have a bad relationship with the other witches. She adores her sisters, even Mallory who did kill Michael. She doesn’t mind him being death, Mallory saved countless lives because of her deed.

If they search for her, she hopes they never find her, she decides. If this is the Michael he was supposed to be, she wants to be forever with him. Not caring it’s all built upon lies. She does not want to go back to a world without him. Who cares she has to live under a fake name, who cares he only will know this caring, kind, version of her? She wants him like this, all his love, his trust. She wants to be the one who will make him believe in everything good again. She wants to experience all of his love, she wants him to be a prisoner of her love.

“Do you remember how it felt? Dying, I mean.” His voice is small, as if he is afraid to ask it. He is no longer watching the sky, he had rolled over to lie on his side. She rolls to her side as well, to face him.

“I only remember feeling cold.” She says honestly, her eyes avoiding his. She is not the supreme, bringing herself to hell had taken its toll on her. “How did you die?” He asks her then, his hand reaching out to hold hers. She allows him to touch her, even finding a bit of rejoice in him making the first move. And she doesn’t want to be too vulnerable around him, but she likes them being like this. She had loved fucking him over in their first live, but she thinks she likes the intimacy of what they’re having right now better.

She can’t really lie to him, but she can’t tell him the whole truth either. “I did it to myself.” This comes close enough to the truth, she decides. “Why?” His eyes had widened, his face inching closer to hers. “Because I was missing someone.” She whispers, a bit ashamed that it’s not a lie. His face is so close now that she can feel his breathing on her face. “Are you still missing this someone?” She thinks about this for a short while. She adores this Michael, but she will never not miss the Michael she got to know. How dangerous that Michael may have been, he had been the excitement in her life as well.

“I will always miss that person, but with each day passing by I handle it better.” Their noses are almost touching, they will kiss. She knows it will happen, she can practically taste the tension that buzzes in the air. “I hope you’ll never be sad again.” His words whispered against her mouth.

She is the first one to lean in, gently kissing him. He immediately responses, his head slightly tilted. She wraps her arm around his waist, pushing her body closer to his. It’s been so long that she had kissed someone, but it feels like they were doing this every day. It probably is the same as horse riding, cycling and tying your shoes. Once you know how to do it, you will never forget.

Their kiss deepens, and before she knows it she’s lying on top of him. She had missed this so much, the way his breathing gets heavy, his taste, the feel of his hot skin against hers. It feels like falling into a lake filled with all her happy memories. There is a buzzing sound in her ears, his hands are on her hips. She grinds into him, needing some friction. This was not how she expected to get what she wanted. She thought it would take some more time for them to get to this point. But at the moment she doesn’t really care about it.

All she cares about is kissing him and the soft feeling of his hair in her hands. A small moan escapes her when she feels Michael’s bulge through his shorts against her leg. Fuck her plans, she really imagined for it to go different, but she wants him. It had been a dry season, and right now she will take whatever she can get. She’s kissing the skin of his throat, knowing exactly how he likes it.

She starts to grind her body against his, her hips moving in a steady rhythm. He kisses her throat, her skin catching the moaning sounds that escape him with each movement she makes. She’s so wet already, her underwear is probably soaked. Michael his hands move underneath the white t-shirt she had been wearing. His nails softly scraping her skin, he is very careful with her. Something the other Michael definitely wouldn’t have been. He would have had her begging by now, begging to be even touched. This Michael is generous with his kisses, his touches and his moans. Generous but soft. She wants to know if he can be rough as well. “Fuck, Michael, I can’t wait for you to be inside me.” Her words whispered in his ear, her hips pushing down against his to strengthen her words. “Oh, fuck.” She hears him muttering, his hips bucking up. “You don’t want to know how long I’ve wanted you like this. Just looking at your long fingers sometimes was enough. The thought of having them inside me, the thought of you touching me, driving me insane.” Michael let’s out a raspy breathe, his hips bucking up for a last time. A foul curse word falling from his mouth as he comes inside his pants.

She only laughs at this after, telling him it’s okay. He had been alone a long time after all. He apologies for the 10th time. “I am so sorry, Baby. I promise I will make it up to you.” Her smile is as bright as the sunset colouring the sky a flaming orange. “I’ll keep you to that one.”

“Grabbed my hand, pushed me down. Took the words right out my mouth. Tag you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it.”

“Maybe there are other people here as well.” They drive through the empty city. He is leaning against the window, watching her. “You think so?” She answers him. “This world is so big, there could be people alone everywhere. Don’t you think they deserve to know they’re not alone?”

She is sure that there are no other people in this world. But she ofcourse can’t tell him this without giving him a valid reason as well. “What are you proposing?” She says instead, her eyes tearing away from the road ahead. “We should travel around. Visit other places, and if we don’t find anyone else, we at least saw some of this world.”

She nods at this, if traveling around will make him happy, she will happily oblige.

Something between the two of them had changed. If it is because they finally kissed or because they spend most of their time cramped in a car together, she isn’t sure of it. She only knows something had changed. Michael seems different, growing more confident in his demeanor. Not as confident as her Michael had been, but he neither was the crying boy she had met in the store. He was a good in between now, she decides. This Michael is all soft smiles, dramatic verbal expressions of love and heavy make out sessions. He is so easy to fall in love with, it frightens her how much she wants it.

Every place they visit, they’re the only ones there. Ofcourse, she had known this. Her presence never had been one of coincidence either. But with each empty city they find, Michael still finds the strength to be an opportunist. “This world is so big, eventually we will have to find someone.” She will search the whole world for him, if it meant being with him. She doesn’t care it is all based upon a lie. She doesn’t care for anything at this point at all. All she cares about is to see him smile.

They’ve been driving up the west coast. The smell of salt had been stinging in her nose for a week now. She had forced him out of their bed early today so they could watch the sun rise. Her head is leaning on his shoulder, they’re seated on a wooden bench. In the real world this place would have been crowded with tourists, desperate to see what they’re seeing right now. She likes moments like these, just the two of them watching the beauty of the world. In moments like these, it is as if they always had been like this. That they’re not in hell, but just a lucky couple who found an undiscovered place of beauty. They stay silent for a while, watching the sun rise over the valley.

He looks heaven send in the pink light of the rising sun. His hair wild and shiny in the morning. Like the Morningstar his father was named after, he is all that promised. Life, love, innocence. The start of a new day. He is the excitement that comes with trying something new, the feeling in your stomach right before you fall on the ground. “Do you prefer sunsets or sunrises?” She asks him.

“I like the moment before sunrise and the moment after sunset. To know the light is coming, to see the sky turn a lighter shade with each passing minute. It brings some sort of hope, to know the darkness will be over soon.” She sits up, shifting her body so that she completely faces his. “And why after the sunset?” He smiles, his hand going to her face to touch it. Automatically she leans into his touch, her face leaning in the palm of his hand. His thumb moves over her cheek, just to feel her skin.

“The afterglow, to realize what you just saw was real. Much like recovering from something excited I guess, to have this blissful feeling it happened to you.” She smiles after his words as well. “To be swallowed by the dark night after. Good things never are permanent.”

He leans in to kiss her, his lips lightly touching her. She sighs into his kiss, she’s so starved for his loving touches. “The memories of the sunset are sometimes enough to face the dark night. The sun will rise tomorrow again after all.” She feels like his words have a deeper meaning, but she does not ask him to elaborate. They never talk about what happened before they met, and he clearly prefers not to. She kisses him again, trying to stay in the moment.

“Sit on my lap,” He orders, “I think it’s time for me to make it up to you.” At first she does not understand what he meant with his words, but when she does as she is told she realizes. His hands are on her ass, squeezing it. “Try to be quiet, we don’t want to be caught.” His words surprise her a bit, maybe he misses the real world more than she thought he did. She plays into his game of pretend any way.

She kisses his cheek, moving her head to whisper in his ear. “Are you so sure you can make me scream then?” His right hands moves from her ass to her leg. “Oh, I’ll make sure your tongue will be bleeding from biting it too hard.” His words create a weird feeling, but she does not know where it comes from. And she forgets about the feeling all together when his hand slides between her legs. She’s glad she’s keeping up her innocent style. The dresses and skirts she’s wearing nowadays make sure he can access what’s between her legs whenever he wants.

He starts by rubbing over her underwear, his mouth kissing a way down from her throat to her collarbone. It takes all her strength to not let out a moan. She had missed his fingers so much, she had fantasized so much about this moment. Countless nights with her own fingers filling up her cunt, the whimpering sounds she would make muffled by her pillow. It does not compare to the feelings this simple act of rubbing does. She’s so hungry to feel him, to have every part of him. The finish line is in sight, the game she had been playing is coming to an end. It won’t be long before she will get more than just his fingers. “You are already so wet.” His fingers push against her entrance through the fabric, teasing her with what she clearly so desperately wants. “If we weren’t in hell, would you let me do this to you? At this same exact spot?” Her breathing is shaky, she needs to grip his shoulder to keep herself steady. “I would let you do anything everywhere.” This Michael does not know that they exactly did that many times before. Not in a place as beautiful as this one, but they both did like to find out how far they could go.

Two of his fingers slide with ease into her wet cunt. His thumb pressed against her flesh to keep his hand steady as he pumps his fingers into her.

Her head falls back as her lower abandonment rides into the palm of his hand. Michael his other hand goes up to crab her breast. Fingers kneading into her with cotton covered skin. “Fuck, it feels so good, Michael.” Her hand is squeezing hard into his shoulder when she tries to keep herself steady on his lap. “You feel so good around my fingers, Baby.” She wonders if this Michael is a virgin, but the way he moves his fingers into her makes her think he’s not. A jolt of jealousy goes through her body, she always liked the thought of being Michael’s only one (even though she probably wasn’t). The thought of him with another person makes her see red. Her nails press hard into his shoulder. She wants to conflict pain on him, as if it’s his fault he had a life before her.

He does not seem to mind, keeping up his pace. His fingers curling inside her, his thumb rubbing her nub. Her body heavily leaning against his, she rides herself on his fingers. Her eyes finding the empty trees behind them, his mouth sucking marks on her throat. Her arms around his shoulders, as she clenches around his fingers. She is not quiet, does not bite her tongue. His name screamed into their world of emptiness. She almost regrets the fact no one will hear it.

When she’s recovered from her orgasm, her hands go to where his pants grew tighter. To touch him, give him something back, maybe fuck him even. Who cares, she had a taste, now she wants more. But he shakes his head when she wants to unzip his pants. “No, not yet, my greedy darling.” She pouts, not understanding why he wants to wait. Maybe he is a virgin after all. “When?” She asks, she wants him to know how much she wants him. She had waited long enough. “When the time is right, patience is a virtue after all, Baby.”

She had lost him in a way. Her days spend aching for something that can never be retrieved again are not over yet. She had found what had been haunting her, but with everything in life, it was given to her in a way she did not want it to have. And yet; only when the world stops spinning she will not love the Michael hell had given her.

Mallory and she had been the only ones to remember the other Michael. She is not sure why she remembered him. Maybe it was the universe’s way to punish her for her betrayal in her other life. She liked to think it was her that was pulling the strings all along. But maybe this was planned for her as well. She crosses her legs, staring up to the stars and the darkness surrounding it.

To be alone in this world with him for forever. Will she ever not think about the other Michael? Will this one ever be enough? She knows the answers to her questions, but her heart does not want to admit them.

They made it a habit to break in houses instead of sleeping in hotels or motels. Just to learn a bit more about the ones living in the empty shells of what once was a home. The place they had decided on for tonight was more a mansion than a house. She didn’t really think it as a home either. The hallways too large, the rooms too empty. But the four-poster-bed has a nice mattress and the fridge is stocked with food.

Sleep wasn’t able to catch her, so she went outside to clear her head. The cool summer night air creating goosebumps, she rubs her hands over her arms to create warmth. The owners of the mansion sure had a great love for flowers, even in the back of their enormous garden she can still smell the sweet smell of them. It even overrules the stinging smell of chlorine coming from the dimly lighted pool.

She had discovered the pool in the back of the garden just now. Thinking maybe tomorrow the both of them could go for a swim. There are still so many things she wants to do but never got to in her life. Maybe this world is the chance for her to do them. Visit places where the ocean is blue and the sand is white. Travel up to where it snows, she wants to experience everything with him.

“Baby!” She doesn’t react at first, not as used as her fake name as she should be. “Baby?” There is desperation in his voice, her head snaps to where his voice comes from. “I’m here! Back of the garden!” She wonders what makes him panicked like this, maybe there were other people here after all? A thought that worries her, she doesn’t want to share him with anyone.

His hair untamed, he’s wearing a weird expression upon his face. His shoulders slumping down when he sees her. “What’s up? Why were you shouting my name?” She stands up from the plastic chair. With three long strides he is standing in front of her. His arms around her body, to pull it against his. A small sob escapes him, his nose nuzzled against the skin beneath her ear. “You’re still here.” Weren’t it for the fact his mouth was so close to his ear she probably wouldn’t have caught his phrase. She sniffs in the smell of him, her hands stroking his back. “Ofcourse I am, I will never leave you.” He leans back, taking her face in. “When I woke up and you weren’t there I thought you disappeared.” His sentence breaks her heart. Oh, Michael, she thinks, doesn’t he know that she will never leave him willingly?

“But I did not, I am here.” Her hands are in his hair, her fingers trying to tame his wild curls. He breathes out slowly, there is something in his eyes that she cannot explain. “You’re my savior, Baby. Please never forget that.” She wants to disappear, burn, to be buried alive. She does not deserve him, they have been living this lie she so selfishly made up just so she could fuck him. She doesn’t want to lie any longer, so she tells him the truth. “I do not deserve you.”

When they’re inside lying in the bed again, they both smell like the flowers decorating the garden outside. His mouth attacking hers in a hungry manner. Almost as if it’s the last time he will taste it. She’s lying beneath him, only wearing her underwear.

She licks the skin of his throat. He tastes like the forever summer this world is caught in. Something sweet and heavy. It’s a bit like the sleeping potion Cordelia had made her after Michael had killed her sisters. Her feelings of guilt had resulted in insomnia. Nights spend sleepless, her mind always going back to the games they used to play. Luckily they don’t have to play them anymore. Ironically, they can be the better versions of themselves in hell.

Her legs around his waist, his erected cock pushing against her core through his underwear. One of his hands on her breast, the other one just above her hip. “Is it the right time?” She asks, afraid he will say no. “Yes.” He says instead, kissing the tip of her nose. “You have been patient enough, my sweet baby.”

He positions himself between her legs, his head above hers. He kisses her first, slowly guiding himself in her wet cunt after.

She almost wants to pinch herself, to make sure it’s real and not just one of her fantasies. The way he stretches her, is so familiar it makes her want to cry. This is what she had been wanting for such a long time, but is everything she didn’t think it would be. She expected it to be rougher, maybe some hate fucking. But instead of finding what haunts her memories, she fell in love with a different version of him. A version of him that will never break her heart.

His eyes are closed, his brows furrowed. There are droplets of sweat on his forehead. She wonders what he is thinking right now. Had he been wanting this as well? How does it feel for him? “Are you okay?” Her hands go up to touch his face. His eyes open, his pupils are blown out. “Yes, are you?”

She answers him by pulling his face down to kiss him. “I’m so glad you found me.” She whispers. And it’s all he needs to hear. He starts to move, experimental thrusts at first. Going slow, but with time he grows more confident. And it all feels so good, the sounds he’s making, the way he smells, the way their skin slap together.

They don’t talk, afraid words will break the moment. Her senses overwhelmed, because now she can only focus on his body and the way he feels inside her. It feels like floating, everything else fades away, she can only think about the two of them. She doesn’t even feel the crumbled sheets sticking to her back, her head a little bit dizzy. And when she comes, her moans are screamed against his shoulder. His hips losing the steady rhythm in which he was fucking her as he comes two minutes later as well.

She falls asleep in his arms, watching the sun rise through the window. His hand tracing figures over her stomach, the touch luring her into sleep like a lullaby would.

“Can anybody hear me? I’m hidden under ground. Can anybody hear me? Am I talking to myself?”

When she wakes up she feels cold, the sheets had fallen of the bed. An empty bed, she realizes when her arms reach out for him. Slightly panicked she opens her eyes, immediately she sits up straight. When she hears his soft chuckle she calms down. He is leaning against the dresser opposite the bed, he had been watching her sleep. “Hey.” The smile she gives him is filled with love. His smile is a bit too bright, but she thinks it’s because of the sex they had last night.

“Good morning, Baby. I made you breakfast.” She falls back into the pillow again, a lazy smile decorating her face. “Michael! I didn’t know you could cook!” His smile is almost secretive. “I have a lot of hidden talents, Baby.” Her smile grows larger. Oh, he has no idea how much they have that in common. “I know more than you think I know, can do more things than you think I can.” With a wink he leaves her to get up from the bed.

“Can I ask you something?” His mouth is full with bacon when he asks the question. “Ofcourse, my darling.” She takes a bite of the scrambled eggs. “Do you consider yourself smart?” She frowns, where does this question come from?

“Because I was wondering, now you got what you came for, Y/N, what will be your next step?” She freezes when he says her name. Panic rising up in her body, how did he know? What else does he know? Her heart is starting to beat faster, the fork falls from her hand. Michael does not respond to this, he calmly swallows the bacon. How is this possible, he didn’t knew it was her right? They never had met in his timeline, this Michael never heard of her. Ice cold fear runs through her veins when she sees the look in his eyes. “Uh, what did you just call me?”

“Y/N, or do you really prefer to be called Baby? Because the name doesn’t really change who you are right? You’ll always be my little witch who likes to play dangerous games.”

She jumps up from her chair at the same time he does. She feels something buzzing in the air. He knows, he knows who she is. “How long have you been remembering me?” His smile is as empty as the look in his eyes. “Well, I never forgot you to begin with.” She feels herself getting sick, she takes a step back from the table. Her eyes darting between him and the exit of the house. He laughs out loud now. “Did you really think you could fool me, baby?”

He walks around the table, her hands ball to a fist. “Don’t come closer, Michael. You might think you got me where you want me, but you still are the one that’s stuck here.” She spits out the words in a fruitless attempt to let him back off. “And so are you now. You really are not the brightest, huh?”

She has had enough of him, she moves her hand to make the knife that lies upon the table move towards his back. But nothing happens, the knife doesn’t move a single inch. Confused she tries again, but still nothing happens. “Magic doesn’t work in hell, didn’t your supreme tell you that?” He looks at her like she’s the dumbest person he ever had the pleasure of meeting. Amused even, he likes to see her struggle probably. “Fuck you.”

“That’s why you came here right? To fuck me? Did you really think there wouldn’t be consequences? I am all that’s evil after all.”

She’s calculating her options to get away from him, she does not like the look he gives her at all. She can leave through the glass sliding doors. She will have to run through the backyard, jump over the fence. She isn’t sure if she will be fast enough to outrun Michael. He is standing closer to the door then her right now.

Another option is to run towards the living room, grab something to defend herself with. She knows there is a shovel next to the fire place, heavy steel that will definitely cause some pain. She can escape through the front door, run across the street to get a car. That will be the fastest way, she will be able to get further away from him with a car.

“You’re saying it as if you didn’t enjoy it.” She needs to keep him talking, needs to keep him distracted. “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Even though I know you like it a bit rougher.” She takes a step back, making her get closer to the opening that will lead them into the living room. “Well, you did play the ‘angsty, no one ever loved me sad boy’ part very well. It’s almost like it really was you.” She brings her hand into the air, taking another step further away from him.

“But, oh, wait, I guess it wasn’t an act after all! I wonder how it feels like to be abandoned by everyone you ever loved.” He actually looks hurt because of her words, his mouth forming to a thin line. He takes a step in her direction, when she takes another one away from him. “It actually was my plan all along to leave you as well. Who could ever love someone like you? Like you said, you are indeed all that’s evil.”

She spins around after her words, running into the living room. She hears him coming for her, but she had a head start. She runs towards the fire place, grabbing the poke. When she turns around he’s closer than she thought he would be.

“You’re playing dangerous games, Y/N. Games I tend to win most of the time.” His hair is messy from the sudden sprint he had to take, his breathing uneven. Guess he isn’t as fit as she thought he would be. “Well, as long you don’t get hit by a car.” She bounces back at him. He jumps towards her, but she is faster.

The shovel hitting his upper leg, a pain filled groan escapes him. His hand touching the place she hit him. She wastes no time, running past him, towards the hallway. Her hit had slowed him down, but not enough for him to not run after her. The front door is luckily not locked, her bare feet are hitting the stones of the pavement. The stones hurting her skin, but now is no time to worry about shoes.

There are only two cars parked in the street, she knows only one has the keys still in the contact. She runs as fast as she can. Her breathing uneven, panic rising up in her throat, she does not dare to look over her shoulder, knowing it will slow her down.

She reaches the car, hands wet with sweat, she barely gets the door open. But when she does, she is relieved to see she got the right car. With the door locked, she finally dares to look behind her. He is getting close, a murderous look upon his face. The engine starts, her feet pushing in the pedal for the car to ride backwards. He jumps out of the cars way just in time. For a moment their eyes lock, his furious, hers filled with fearful adrenaline. He jumps forward at the same time she hits the pedal again.

Her heart still beating too fast, as she watches his figure grow smaller in her rear view mirror. Her breathing finally calming down. An almost insane like laugh escapes her, her head falling back. “Tag you’re it.” She whispers, feeling a bit high because of the adrenaline. She won, she got away from him. Another laugh escapes her. He had been knowing it was her all this time, it all had been fake. She wants to scream, but instead she keeps laughing like she’s mad. Which she probably is at this point. The car is speeding up, driving faster and faster until she no longer is in the city.

She escaped him once now and she knows there won’t be a second time.

She’s been driving around for days now, trying to find a spot where he won’t search for her. But she’s exhausted and needs food. She leaves the store with a bag filled with food that should keep her alive for a couple days. She isn’t sure where to go. Maybe she can drive all the way to New Orleans, maybe she can find something that will make it possible for her to return to the world of the living. A potion, some sort of artifact. She is desperate, she knows she has to escape this world. She doesn’t want to think about the fact Michael had been lying this whole time. A part of her still believes the time they shared was real. The sweet nothings he had promised her were true, that the innocence in him was not false.

She had wanted this life with him. To be in love, to share this world together. She had wanted to explore every part of it with him. She had wanted to explore every part of this new him. Just thinking about the fact that it’s all shattered now, hurts her too much.

Mindlessly she walks the parking lot, trying to not think about him. Not knowing she is being watched.

A strong arm around her body, a cloth drenched with something intoxicating pressed against her mouth. Her scream muffled, her body struggling against his in an attempt to get away. The bag with groceries fall to the ground. She pushes her elbow back, hitting him in the stomach with it. A low groan escapes him, his grip on her loosens. She takes her chance, fighting herself out of his unwanted embrace with ease. She runs from him, her groceries scattered at his feet.

But she is not fast enough, his hand wrapping around her arm. She is pulled against his body, she tries to move away from him. But he is strong, his arm pressed against her face in the attempt to drag her body closer to his. She bites his exposed skin, not thinking about the consequences. Blood starts to pour from the wound she made, his arm sliding down. Blood is wetting the blouse she’s wearing, his voice loud in her ears. “You fucking bitch!” She feels a sharp sting in her arm, she jerks away from it the seconds after. Breaking herself free from him once again.

She runs as fast as she can towards the car she had been driving the past week. But her body is weak from being without food for so long, she’s tired from being on the run. The fear making her alert, but also a bit uncoordinated. Her mind can only see the end goal, not the details to get to it. Everything is starting to spin, the world around her is getting misty.

She falls down, her knees scraping against the asphalt. Her body feels heavy, it feels like she’s falling asleep. Too late she notices the needle sticking in the skin of her upper arm. With the last of her strength she pulls it out, falling in an all-consuming darkness after.

“Saying, “Tag you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it.” He’s saying, “Tag you’re it, tag, tag, you’re it”.”

When her eyes open they find the ceiling. She tries to move, but she can’t. The ropes around her wrists and ankles are keeping her grounded against the bed. He had taken off her blouse and skirt, dried up blood is decorating the skin between her breasts. She feels cold, her body hurting from the fight they had before. She tries to move her body again, her arms above her head moving in an attempt to free herself. Her head feels heavy because of the drugs, but she knows the situation is bad. Her ass wiggles in the sheets, her breathing is getting heavy. Panic slowly overtaking her, as the harder she tries to free herself from the ropes, the more they hurt her.

“It’s always so funny to watch a mouse try to outsmart a cat.” His voice stops all her movements, ice cold fear runs through her body because of the tone of his voice. “But doesn’t the little mouse realize, she will never be on top of the food chain.” Her head turns to the left, to face the door, but he is not there. “Other side of the room, darling.”

There he sits, in the chair with his long legs crossed. Watching her as if she’s an amusing show. “I have to admit, you did win the first round. But when it comes to the real game, you’ll always be the sore loser.” Michael unfolds his legs, standing up from the chair. She suddenly feels very naked, even though she isn’t completely in the nude. His eyes scanning over her body, stopping at her face. And she hates him for being the way he is, she hates herself for still wanting him.

His skin is hot against her cold skin, her body jerks away from his touch automatically. But she can’t escape him, he made sure of that. His fingers make their way up, stopping between her breasts. “Look what a mess you made of yourself, I had to take your blouse of to wash it. Did you know you get blood out of clothing with cold water?” She grinds her teeth. “I know Michael, I am a woman. I have periods you know, and a lot of panties I don’t want to throw away.” Michael laughs at her words, his hand cupping her breast as a response. His fingers squeezing into her skin, touching her like he has every right to do so.

“Do you remember the rules we made back then?” Ofcourse she remembers, but she will not surrender, not even when she’s completely at his mercy. He squeezes her breast again, to leave it alone after. His finger is tracing upwards her body. She is afraid for what there is to come, but she is excited as well. What will he do? His hand is at her throat now. “I said, do you remember the rules?” His finger tick roughly against her skin. She turns her head away, trying to escape his touch.

He’s standing beside her head now, her eyes staring at his crotch. “Yes, I remember.” The little sexual games they had played always resulted in the same thing. The one who got caught had to surrender.

He wraps his hand around her throat, pushing her head against the hard mattress. Mentally she scolds him, the fucker didn’t even bother to get her a pillow. His face leaning above hers, his eyes empty of emotions. A mocking smile decorating his mouth, he never had looked more like the evil long haired men she had met in the outpost than he did now. “I think it’s safe to say you lost our little game of tag.” Her breathing comes out heavy, she wants to close her eyes to avoid his gaze. The hand around her throat is hurting her. But she keeps staring at him like she is not bothered by his actions.

“And the winner takes all.” His mouth pressed against hers in a rough manner after his mocking words. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to escape from his cruel kiss. But her treacherous body responds before her mind can, her lips parted for him to concur her like he did so many times before.

His hand leaving her throat, giving her the luxury to move her head in a more comfortable position. She won’t surrender that easily, because she indeed is a sore loser. Her teeth sinking into his bottom lip, the groan that escapes him flushing her skin with heat. He leans back, his lips covered in blood.

He swipes it away with the back of his hand, there is something wicked burning in his eyes, and she knows she made a mistake to fight him back.

“Oh, Y/N, I wish you had more respect for our games and its rules.” Michael sits down on the bed, his brows furrowed as if he truly is disappointed in her. “Untie me, and I’ll show you how much I respect our rules.” Despite the fact she wants to escape, she still wants to know what he will be doing. With each minute that passes by, it gets more unlikely that he will kill her. He must have been lonely as well, he won’t kill the only company he has right?

“Tempting, but tonight I like it better when you’re not able to move.” He places his hand on the other side of her body, making him lean over her upper body. “Tonight you’ll take it like the loser you are.” He leans down to kiss the part of her skin that is bloodied. His tongue licking it away as if it’s icing instead of his own blood. Her breast is wet with his spit, when he leans up to watch her face.

“If you didn’t already feel dirty enough for wanting to fuck me, your coven’s worst enemy might I add. When I’m done with you, you will be stained for forever.” He leans away from her, pulling his shirt over his head. There is bandage covering the wound she made, and she feels good for hurting him. It gives her the feeling she’s not entirely powerless. Michael climbs upon her body, sitting on his knees. “Aren’t you afraid you will just stain yourself again? Because if I remember correctly, it didn’t take me much last time.” Her words are hitting a sore spot, she can see it in the way his eyes darken.

He leans down, pushing his full weight on top of her. A sigh escapes her when his mouth attacks her throat. She wishes she wasn’t tied up, she wishes she could put her hands in his hair and pull at it. She hates herself for wanting what he is doing to her.

He drugged her, he had hurt her, tied her up like some sex slave. And her cunt is dripping because of it. The thought of him doing to her whatever he wants to do, turning her so much on she wants to scream. She will indeed be stained for the rest of her life. No shower could ever wash away the need she has for Michael Langdon.

He moves down her body, his mouth leaving a wet trail over her breasts, ribs and stomach. He stops between her legs, looking up to her panting form. “If you could see what I am seeing right now, you wouldn’t be that bratty. You’re so easy to get wet.” He lets one of his fingers slide through her folds, collecting her wetness with the movement. A shudder goes through her body because of it, her breathing shaky. She is afraid if she says too much he will stop. He touches her again, this time with his thumb. “I don’t think you really mind being dirty. I think you love to be stained, corrupted, destroyed, by me.” And with the way his thumb is circling over her clit she almost agrees. She can’t think straight, an unwanted moan falls from her mouth.

“Do you surrender?” He doesn’t really need to ask, with the way her hips are moving up to his touch he knows she had. But he likes to torture her, likes to humiliate her. “Yes.” She says in one breathe, her eyes closing, she wishes to not face him. Two of his fingers are pressed against her entrance, his smile one of victory. “Tag, you’re it.”

(to be continued in part 2.)

As always, thank you for reading! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it! I was a bit afraid to post this at first, because it’s a bit more plot heavy than the usual stuff I post. But I spend so many thoughts on this that I had to post it.

Part 2 will be a bit darker and more smutty. (And Michael’s POV for a part.)

ALSO: For the ones familiar with the vampire diaries, this ‘hell’ is kinda based on the prison world. Why does reader remember Michael even though she is not the supreme? Well, because I am a lazy writer and it didn’t work for the plot for her to not know who Michael is. Then why kill him off like they did in canon? Because it’s not realistic for Outpost!Michael to be killed by the witches. (You know, fuck canon, but don’t fuck canon at the same time)

Tagging: @ccodyferns @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @queencocoakimmie @queenie435 @isoldedax @micheallangdons @nuke-em-from-orbit @littledemondani @xrestene @vampirefairyestelle @theghostoflangdon @langdons-rep @nana15774 @langdonsdemon @boofy1998 @1-800-bitchcraft @xxxsad-nessxxx @bademliimagnum

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon smut #michael langdon/reader #ahs apocalypse #fanfiction #songbased #smut #writings #fanfic #tag you're it #reader insert #long one shot #one shot #plot heavy shit #dark themes #moodboard #green aesthic #mood board

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