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#reader x michael langdon
brownsugarberries · 5 months
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꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱
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me with billy, stu, ethan and roman
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redroses07 · 2 months
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when the show/movie has a cast that’s so fine you don’t know who to read a fic about 😞
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slutforgarlogan · 7 months
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"Youre a pretty little thing" | Michael Langdon x F! reader.
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Summary: based off this request. Michael Langdon showing off to the coven witches and using the seven wonders to impress you because he has a crush on you
A/N: guys i love him im a catholic and he's the antichrist we're like romeo and juliet. also the writing on this one is questionable n clunky but im on wine and cider so it needs to be forgiven
When the warlocks had told Cordelia they wanted to have Michael perform the seven wonders, Michael had felt determined to get it done quickly and better than Cordelia could do it, to prove he was the next supreme, and no one could argue it.
However, when the witches had arrived telling him they agreed to it, and he could attempt to perform the seven wonders, Michael had found himself a little distracted by one of the witches, you. His new goal was to impress you.
First wonder: Telekinesis. This one was easy and simple, he just had to move something without touching it. He did so, quickly and with ease, shooting a cocky smirk at the witches, eyes lingering on you a little.
Second wonder: Concilium. Michael knew he could be crafty with this one - control of the mind. He looked at you, and as you made eye contact, you knew you were going to be the victim of him showing off this power.
You could feel yourself moving towards him, very much against your will, and you took mental note of the fact that though you yourself were a very powerful witch, he was powerful enough that you couldn't even try and fight it.
To your surprise, despite the weird evil vibe you've all been getting from him, all he makes you do is dance with him. You uncontrollably slow dance with him, unsure whether it's his pretty face or the magic thats making you kind of nervous, but whatever it is, you scold yourself for thinking that way about a man that even one of the warlocks is scared of.
When he's done making you dance with him, you awkwardly do the walk of shame back over to stand next to Zoe, awkwardly smiling at her.
Third wonder: Transmutation. Another easy one, Michael thought. Madison had tapped him on the shoulder, and in turn, he had appeared behind you to tap you on the shoulder.
By the time you had turned round, he had dissappeared again, leaving everyone looking around for him. Your eyes dart around the room, a little puzzled. Whatever he was doing, it was successfully intriguing you more and more by the second, drawing yourself to the unsettling boy.
"Look up"
You can all hear the cockiness in his voice, the same annoying smirk as before present on his face, as you look up to the ceiling, to see Michael attatched to it, looking down on everyone, like one of those sticky animals you get from toy machines.
Fourth wonder: divination. Once again, Michael already knew he could do this, another easy one. He had to do this one as it was given to him, unfortunately, and couldn't do anything extra to inadvertently flirt with you more. And so, he makes a small bit of eye contact with you, before he takes the small pebbles and usea them to figure out where the pocket watch is, finding it almoat instantly, and walking over to where it was to pick it up and show the witches.
Fifth wonder: Pyrokenesis. Michael decided the best thing to do, would be to conjure a ring of fire around where you and madison were stood, making piercing eye contact with you through the fire, and getting rid of it as quickly as he had conjured it up.
To you, the danger and mystery of him was considerably attractive, though Cordelia didn't seem too impressed that he was practically targeting you.
Sixth wonder: Vitalum Vitalis. Michael was given a rat to bring back to life, which proved another easy task for him, doing so pretty much instantaneously, and moving on to the seventh wonder.
Seventh wonder: Descensum. Cordelia had ordered for Michael to not only successfully come back from this, but also to retrieve Misty Day, who had been lost to this particular task when she tried the seven wonders.
This, of course, had caused an arguement between her and the warlocks, who were claiming it wasnt fair, and that it's not a part of the rules.
You and Michael, had been making eye contact the whole time, and the tension between the two of you was so thick you could almost see it. He broke eye contact to look at the warlocks, holding up a dissmissive hand to them "Relax, I'll do it"
He did, and you watched intensely as he lay there, seemingly lifeless. You started to feel a little nervous, even though you didn't know him at all really, nor would you ever admit to having the slightest care in the world how this played out, you told yourself you were nervous because you wouldn't wish death upon anyone.
Sure enough, he did return, and Misty did - eventually - return with him. Much to everyones shock.
You stood there and gawked, eyes flicking between Michael and Misty, and he smirked at you.
A short bicker between the witches and warlocks ensued, before the witches had all turned there attention to Misty.
You however, had turned your attention to Michael, your gaze locking with his for what felt like the millionth time today.
"You seem impressed, little witch," he smirks a little at you, and you nod in response.
"I am impressed" you confirm, trying to be cautious, undeniably attracted to him, but still acknowledging that there's something off about him.
"That was the goal, i wanted to impress you" he sounds serious about it, and you tilt your head a little, cocking an eyebrow.
"Why"
"You're a pretty little thing, thats why"
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Office Secrets
Luke Cooper x f!reader
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TW: smut, p in v, unprotected, fingering… lmk if there’s anything else lol
Word count: 1526
Friendly note, I wrote this all in one day so it’s probably not the best but I’ve been so obsessed w Evan lately I just needed to write lol Enjoy!!!
~~~
“So, who wants to bet the two newbies are doing it?” Meredith says as she puts coins into one of the vending machines.
“They so are,” Kevin says. “Have you seen the way they look at each other it’s like- Pam and Jim.”
“Hey!”
Angela shakes her head. “You people are disgusting… but I wouldn’t doubt it. I’ve seen them flirting on multiple occasions.”
“This is all circumstantial, it doesn’t mean they’re sleeping together,” Oscar argues.
“I would bet they are,” Phillas says with a laugh. “I mean I remember how fun it was being all secret with Bob, it’s so thrilling.”
Pam glances at you in the annex, Luke’s leaning back on your desk, smiling as you two talk. She looks back to the group and shrugs. “It’s possible they are.”
~~~
“Hey y/n, do you think you could make some copies for me?” Pam asks as you’re walking by.
“Yeah of course, double or single sided?” You reply with a smile.
“Double please.” She hands you the original.
You walk to the copier, but as you’re about to open it, Luke slips in front of you.
“Luke I was about to make copies,” you say, annoyed.
“So do I, you aren’t the only person in the office who needs to get stuff done,” he laughs.
“Since when have you ever had things to get done? You’re the laziest person here.”
“That’s hostile,” he replies, turning around to give you a smirk. “I might have to report you to HR.”
“Just please hurry up,” you mumble.
“Anything for you babe.” He winks.
You turn to the camera and stare, almost at your limit with this boy.
~~~
“I just don’t understand men sometimes it’s like, he’s so different when we’re alone yet in public he wants to be the biggest ass ever,” you rant to the camera, you’re in the hallway near the elevator where no one will hear you. “Sometimes I just want to knee him in the balls and get on with my day.”
“If he’s so annoying why do you sleep with him?”
You frown. “He’s really good at that stuff, most assholes are honestly.”
~~~
You’re at the vending machine getting a snack when you feel arms snake around your waist. You quickly turn around and push him away.
“Luke stop it we can’t be doing this here,” you whisper.
He looks out the windows then back at you. “Nobody’s around, come on just one kiss. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night baby.”
You and Luke were hired about three weeks ago now, both just interns to help out with the little things around the office. At first you thought Luke was an idiot slack off, but after a week of him constantly flirting with you, you decided he wasn’t that bad of a guy and of course he’s gorgeous. And, after one night where he gave you a ride home this simple work crush turned into casual sex.
You made Luke promise to keep it a secret, you didn’t want anyone at the office to think your personal life would interfere with you doing your job. So, far you don’t think anyone has figured it out, and your glad.
“Don’t talk like that here,” you say, giving him a slight glare. “We made a deal.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m serious Luke, imagine if Michael found out. He’d make it a whole thing.”
“It probably already is a thing, Jim and Pams was.”
You scoff at him. “Okay, that doesn’t mean this has to be.”
“Whatever,” he says as he begins to walk away. “See you later.”
You give an annoyed look to the camera and shake your head before returning to your previous activity.
~~~
“Listen, y/n is a good girl I guess, I just wish she’d stop acting like the office finding out about our thing is the worst possibility imaginable,” Luke tells the crew outside the break room.
“What do you think would happen if they found out?”
“I don’t know, they’d give us weird looks. It doesn’t really matter it’s not like me and her are gonna be working here forever. At least I know I’m not, not sure what her life plans are.”
~~~
You stare at the clock and sigh, still a whole nother hour left at the office. This whole day has been terrible, mostly due to Luke. You don’t understand why he’s acting so annoying today. Usually he’s decent toward you, probably because of what he wants from you the second work ends. You turn back to your desk and start to organize papers, deciding Luke isn’t important.
A few have passed when Luke appears beside you. He leans back on your desk, one of his hands gripping the edge. You try to ignore him, keeping your attention on the stack of paper you’ve been messing with. Luke doesn’t let you ignore him forever though.
“Can you come with me somewhere where we can speak privately… away from the cameras.”
You look up at him. Is this it? Is he really going to break it off at work? You can’t believe it. You want to give him a piece of your mind, so you slightly nod and get up, following him out of the annex and down the hall to one of the stock rooms. You’re ready to start giving it to him but before you can he smashes his lips on yours.
At first, you’re caught off guard, he’s never kissed you at work before. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back however. He backs you up till the back of your legs hit a spare desk. You let him guide you onto it, your kiss turning into something more.
He bites down on your lip, his hands roaming up and down the sides of your body. You have to admit, you’d been craving this too. Even though you saw each other last night. Luke was the best you’d ever had, how were you supposed to not want him again? Even though he’s been annoying you all day you can’t help but melt into the palm of his hand, he’s just so damn attractive.
“Luke, we can’t do this at work,” you whisper, the sensible part of you taking over.
“Nobody will know, come on baby, I’ve been thinking of you all day. I need you,” he replies.
Your stomach fills with butterflies at his words. He knows exactly how to persuade you. You fall back on the desk as he kisses down your neck, Your legs wrap around his waist, he makes you feel so good. He brings his lips back up to yours as one of his hands starts to slip up your skirt and under your panties.
He starts to rub small circles on your clit; you to moan into his mouth. He smirks against your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, you love the feeling of his body against yours. It’s the best you’ve ever felt.
“You’re already so wet baby,” he mumbles on your lips.
“Luke,” you moan.
“Do you want it baby?”
You nod, moving one of your hands down to rub the bulge in his pants. He grins at you and removes his fingers, beginning to undo his belt and fly. In seconds you feel his tip brushing against your entrance. He leans back over you as he begins to slowly thrust inside of you. You bite down on your lip and close your eyes, the familiar feeling of him filling you taking over.
You throw your head back as he starts fucking you. The sound of the desk hitting the wall doesn’t even register in your head. You’re too engulfed in how good Luke’s dick feels inside you, hitting that special spot that makes your legs shake. His head rests in the crook of your neck, he’s moaning and whispering all the dirty things he wants to do to you. It’s all too good to be true.
Eventually though, you feel that tightening in your stomach, your orgasm approching. Luke must realize this because he doesn’t stop his violent thrusts for even a second. You hold on to him tightly, biting down on his clothed shoulder as you finally cum. He finishes with you, pushing himself so far inside you he’s hitting your cervix.
He lays on you for a few seconds before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. His chest is still heaving as he speaks in a soft voice, “I really like you y/n.”
“I really like you too Luke,” you say with a weak smile.
Both of you get yourselves decent fast, you’ve been away for at least fifteen minutes by now. You give Luke one last kiss before exiting the small room alone, he promised to wait a minute or too before following.
As you sit at your desk and resume your previous activities, Luke walks by you, sending a quick wink before disappearing into the main office. You give a small stare into one of the cameras, your face turning bright red. This was only the beginning.
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beastsovrevelation · 7 months
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Captured Angel
Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader
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Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia
“Good, you’re awake.”
A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.
His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.   
“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.
Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.
“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”
You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.  
“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.
He glanced down at your heaving chest.
“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”
You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.
“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.
A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.   
“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”
You snarled, attempting to pull away.
“Get your putrid hands off me!”
He tightened his grip on your neck.
“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”
“Vile creature...” you spat.
He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles   had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.
Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.
You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.
He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.
He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.
It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.
“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”
He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.
“Speak up, angel” he demanded.
Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.
“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”
Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.
“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”
Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.
He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.
Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.
Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.
“Kiss me” you demanded.
He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.
“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.
“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.
“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”
He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.
“Michael!”
“Good girl” he praised with a grin.
Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.
“Michael...” you moaned.
You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation  you had ever experienced.
You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.
“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”
A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.
“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.
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delicateflowerss · 1 year
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Dark Paradise
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You try to adjust to a new life, married and living in a manor. But you quickly realize that not everything is what it seems, including your mysterious and devilishly handsome husband, Michael Langdon.
Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, violence, murder, demon!Michael, blood kink, pain kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia
Word Count: 4.2k
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You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to the dark corridors where shadows dance in your periphery, or the damp smell that makes you feel like you’re underground. It smells of rotting fruit, a slow and lingering decay, almost like death surrounds you.
As long as it doesn’t reach you.
You’re also not sure if you’ll ever get used to the man that haunts these grounds. This tall, dark manor that sits in the middle of nowhere.
He’s not dead, he’s just your husband.
His appearances to you are scarce, only really seeing him at mealtimes and occasionally passing him in hallways.
He’s elusive, mysterious to you in ways you cannot comprehend. Ever since you arrived at the manor, all you’ve had are questions.
For an unknown reason, you can’t remember your life before this place. All you know is you were married off to a man named Michael Langdon.
Sometimes, you have the strangest dreams with a house that feels like the complete opposite of here. One filled with love and light and white walls, and not this frigidness that wraps around you now.
The days almost feel like they go on forever, blending together as nothing surprising happens.
Until one night, you’re pulled out of a peaceful slumber by a piercing scream.
It takes you a moment to blink away the sleep, wondering if it was real or part of a dream.
It doesn’t take long before another one echoes throughout the manor. It’s shrill, a seemingly female scream.
You clutch the soft sheets under you, your heartbeat loud in your ears.
You think about whether you should lie back down, ignoring it and going back to sleep. But you don’t think you could even if you wanted to.
Perhaps against your better judgement, you leave your bedroom, with only a candle lighting your path through the dark hallways.
Your white nightgown sways as you step between walls covered in paintings. The dim candlelight casts shadows on the faces, giving them a particularly ghoulish look.
You keep walking, hoping to find some sort of sign of what it is that woke you up. You’re not even sure where the scream exactly came from.
Before you can reach Michael’s room, a chill sweeps past you, extinguishing your candle, leaving you shivering in the dark.
A disembodied voice calls out your name in the form of a question.
“What are you doing out of your room?” he asks.
You instantly recognize the voice, and it stops you in your tracks. You swallow as he steps closer to you. Michael is holding a candle, illuminating the glare on his face.
“I thought I heard something. It woke me up,” you say nervously.
“I didn’t hear anything,” he replies, his brow furrowing.
“It sounded like a scream. I thought someone might have gotten hurt.”
“Are you sure you didn’t just have a nightmare?” he asks in an almost mocking manner, a cruel smirk growing on his lips.
“No-.” You sigh, stopping yourself. “No,” you say again, this time quieter.
“Come on. I’ll tuck you in and look under your bed for monsters,” he says, trying to step past you with a teasing grin on his face.
“I know what I heard, Michael.”
He stops, mere inches from your face and he can see the seriousness that settles in your eyes.
It doesn’t stop his own icy blue eyes from growing colder.
His gaze rakes over you before he leans in closer, warm breath fanning over your lips as he says, “you didn’t hear anything, Y/N. Time to go back to bed.”
You think your own breathing has stopped before he leaves you, going back to his bedroom.
That’s when your goosebumps return, Michael taking all warmth with him.
You’ve sat in the library all day, reading by the window as rain hits the glass. You decided that you’ll read every book in this place since you don’t have much else to do. You’re on 28 out of 11,200. Thunder rumbles above you as you turn the page.
Nothing has happened since you heard the scream, helping you to believe that it was either a dream or your sleep-addled imagination. You tried asking your handmaid if she heard anything that night, but she said no, giving you a strange look like you might be going mad.
You quickly shut up about it.
Michael hasn’t brought it up, which you’re somewhat grateful for because if he did, it would probably be to make fun of you some more.
Even if he has been polite enough about it, it’s been difficult to be around him. He’s always had an intense gaze but something about it has changed. It lingers for too long.
You think that’s always been the case. But now you react differently, a heat growing in your cheeks and a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach.
“Are you hiding from me for a reason?”
You practically jump, startled by the deep voice near your ear.
You close your book and look over your shoulder, finding Michael standing behind you. Amusement lights up his face and his hands are clasped together behind him.
“Do you normally spend your time in here?” he asks, eyes scanning the room, finding books from floor to ceiling and a fire raging, keeping you warm.
“Sometimes.”
You stare at him, still confused as to why he’s bothering you. Shouldn’t he be busy with something?
“So why do you seem to be in here more than you used to be?”
He steps over to the chair you’re sitting in, wood creaking underneath him. He looks over your shoulder, reading the title of your leatherbound book.
You swallow, able to smell the rich scent he wears. It’s musky with a dash of sweetness, like a piece of fruit being harvested from the earth.
“Just reading more, I guess,” you finally answer his question.
“Hm, well I wanted to apologize for the other night.” He pauses, like it’s hard to get the words out. “You were obviously shaken, and I could’ve been nicer.”
Even if his apology could be more genuine, at least it’s an apology.
“I also want to give you something,” he says before placing something on a side table near you.
You pull your brows together as you take in the gift.
“A pomegranate?” you ask, moving your gaze to him, eyebrows raised.
He picks the piece of fruit back up, mischief dancing in his eyes. In one motion, he cracks the rouge skin open, revealing hundreds of little seeds.
He gathers exactly four seeds in the palm of his hand, setting the rest of the fruit back down.
Without saying anything, he brings his hand closer to you, offering it as if you have no choice but to accept.
You hesitate for a moment before reaching to grab them from the palm of his large hand.
But when your skin brushes against his, a gasp falls from your lips, an image flashing in front of you.
It’s Michael, but he looks different…wearing different clothes than he wears now, almost like a school uniform.
The pomegranate seeds fall to the floor before you look up at him.
There’s a question in his eyes that almost matches yours. But it’s just a flicker of confusion before it disappears, turning into irritation.
He clasps his hands together again before leaning down to you and saying lowly, “if you make a mess, you must clean it up. Remember that.”
You keep your eyes away from him, not able to look at him. You can faintly hear him walk away, but your mind is too focused on the words that seem to have another meaning to them. A meaning that makes heat swirl inside you.
The sun is out today, but just barely. It peeks slightly behind gray clouds. You’ll take it over nothing, deciding it called for a stroll in the garden.
Except, as you look around, you realize there isn’t much of a garden. The flowers seem to be withering away, drooping without life and leaves almost crumbling to dust.
It must be the lack of sunshine, you think as you frown.
It’s so hard to find beauty in a place like this, instead only finding death and tragedy.
Without intending to, your mind wanders to a certain someone. You suppose not all beauty is lost.
You still have been avoiding Michael to the best of your abilities, still unsure what happened that day in the library.
You’re also unsure of your growing feelings for him. He is your husband, but it’s also true you two never consummated the marriage.
He never wanted to, and at first, you were grateful. But now, as you think of his golden curls and sharp jawline that could have been crafted by the gods themselves, you wonder if it would help ease the tension between you. Maybe it’s what you need to do in order to have a normal conversation with him.
But nothing about him is normal. He might be beautiful, but you can’t ignore the darkness that lies in his eyes and makes up his entire being.
You stop, finding a faded yellow flower sprouting from the ground. You bend down, pulling it up. Standing up, you stare at it in your hand, and you can’t help but wish it was alive.
You sigh, eyes closing, almost in defeat. But when you open them, you can’t believe what you see.
The flower is now a bright yellow, looking like it belongs in a vase full of fresh-cut daffodils.
It’s like the flower was resuscitated right between your fingers, finally getting the oxygen it so desperately needed.
There is no way you did this, so how is this possible?
Dinner is mostly eaten in silence. Some small talk is exchanged but you can tell Michael can barely bare it, gritting his teeth as you ask him how his day was.
Michael enjoys more intellectually stimulating conversation. It just so happens that usually means arguing with you or teasing you about something. So, you’re not very fond of it.
Once the plates are taken away, you think you can finally breathe, ready to take your leave to your room.
Just as you’re getting up, Michael stops you.
“Sit down. You haven’t had your dessert yet.”
“Dessert? We only have that on special occasions,” you retort, sitting back down.
“Well, you didn’t get to finish it the other day.”
You part your lips to question him again, but it’s answered when a maid places a plate in front of you.
A pomegranate split in half sits before you.
Michael seems to be waiting for your reaction when you lock eyes with him.
“What is with you and pomegranates?”
“They’re in season. I just want you try it.”
He leans back in his chair, giving a smile that doesn’t exactly reach his eyes. Instead, you find a glint there instead.
You nervously look down at the fruit, mulling over what he wants you to do.
You blink and you suddenly see that the red fruit has turned into a human heart, bloody and still beating.
You gasp, eyes widening as you push back your chair.
You look back to Michael, wondering if he sees it too. You’re met with a cold stare, his finger impatiently tapping on the table.
You frown, your eyes going back to the plate only to find the pomegranate.
Tears spring to your eyes as you consider the real fact that you’re losing your mind.
You don’t notice Michael getting up to stand next to you, your broken mind too caught up with all the peculiar things happening in the last couple of weeks.
He gently puts his hand on your shoulder, taking you out of the torment you’re putting yourself through.
By the time you turn to look at him, he has a few pomegranate seeds on his fingertips. You can smell the sweetness as he brings them closer to your lips.
“Don’t think about it. Just eat them,” he says as two of his fingers move past your lips and into your mouth.
You hum lowly in your throat as you taste how delicious they are, lips clasping tighter around Michael’s fingers, your tongue swirling around them.
He breaks the seal, removing his fingers before you swallow. He watches your throat move up and down, taking his offering.
You don’t miss the satisfied smirk on his plump lips.
It’s a night of tossing and turning. You’re able to sleep but it’s restless. Thoughts of Michael still lingering hours after he fed you the pomegranate.
When you’re finally able to sleep for more than an hour, you’re woken up by a scream similar to the one that woke you up weeks ago.
You know you heard it. It’s not in your imagination. No matter what Michael wants you to believe.
You don’t even think about it as you leave your bed, practically storming down the hall, deciding to leave behind a lit candle for light.
You pass Michael’s bedroom, getting closer to the faint sounds of cries and screams.
At the end of the hallway lies a singular door painted blood red.
You’ve never dared to go through it because when you arrived at the manor, you were told it is off limits.
Every time you would look at it, the hairs on your neck would stand up, giving you reason enough to never investigate it.
But now, you know you have to, tired of not knowing the truth.
When you step through the doorway, the air feels heavy, like all the light has been sucked out, only leaving a darkness that sits on your chest, making sure you cannot take a breath.
It’s pitch black, stairs going down to seemingly nowhere or possibly the pits of Hell. So, it’s either idiotic or suicidal why you decide to go down them.
Once you go down the stairs, a sweltering heat is the first thing you feel, like fire blistering your skin. It’s so bright down at the bottom of the stairs that it reflects in the irises of your eyes.
Hundreds of candles are lit with a few fires alongside them. The walls seem to be made of the earth, like a cave.
You don’t exactly understand what is going on, crouched at the bottom of the stairs spotting Michael walking toward a man sitting on the ground.
Cries and screams of “no” fall from the man as Michael brings a small knife to the man’s throat.
He slices it open, like a bleeding smile, his cries ceasing.
A sadistic smirk paints Michael’s lips, a satisfied one that is so similar to the one he had when he fed you the pomegranate seeds.
That’s when you notice everyone else. Bodies littered around the room, both alive and dead. Blood seeping from their various wounds. The ones who are alive seem to be chained to the floor or the walls, like they’re being tortured.
You can’t help the strangled cry that leaves your mouth, your stomach churning, thinking of the horror that the man you’re married to has been enacting.
You catch yourself, slapping a hand over your mouth. But it’s too late. He heard you.
Michael meets your gaze, and it only takes you a split second to get up and run back up the stairs.
You rush through the house, finding the front doors that keep you trapped inside this prison from the rest of the world.
You fling them open, running barefoot past the garden into the trees that border the manor.
Except just when you think you’re getting somewhere, you’re entering another door, one that goes right back inside the manor.
You look around with bewilderment, your mind racing to try and figure out what is going on. But you just end up hitting a brick wall, wanting to collapse into tears while nothing makes sense. You feel like the floor is moving, like your world has been tilted.
“Don’t cry, little witch.”
You turn to find Michael at the top of the main staircase, looking at you with a sort of curiosity and feigned sympathy.
“What?” you ask, voice cracking.
He continues down the stairs, stepping closer to you.
“Stay away from me,” you yell, voice still thick with tears. “I’m getting out of here.”
“You can try as long as you want to get away. But you’ll always end up back here.”
His looming figure is blurry as you blink away the tears.
You let him get closer, his thumb wiping your tear-stained cheeks.
“You poor thing.” You hear him mutter like you’re some naïve little lamb that needs to be protected.
“You’re stuck here,” he explains. “Those seeds you ate bound you here forever. With me, little witch,” he adds with a grumbling chuckle.
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“You don’t remember,” he observes, tilting his head at you, like you’re his science experiment.
He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I suppose it would be better if you remembered. Then we really can have fun.”
Before you can protest or say anything, everything goes black.
Certain details are still fuzzy when you regain consciousness, but you remember it all.
You were a powerful witch in a coven. You remember your sisters and your Supreme, Cordelia.
You also remember him.
Cordelia made a deal. She knew who Michael really was, so she did anything she could to send him away, lock him up within the gates of Hell.
She had to make a sacrifice, and it just so happened to be you.
She came up with a loophole for you. The problem is that you couldn’t remember what it was when you arrived here.
You look around at your surroundings for the first time, finding yourself inside a circle of lit candles.
You try to move outside of the confines of the circle, but it’s like an invisible barrier is up.
You lie back down in defeat.
There is no fighting him or getting out. You ate the seeds of the pomegranate.
If enough time had passed without you eating them, you could’ve gotten away from here like Cordelia wanted.
Now you’ve sealed your fate. You’ve been promised to The Beast.
It’s not long before a door creaks open. The man you’ll be forced to spend eternity with, walks through the door.
“I imagine that was an enlightening nap,” he says, fighting off a mocking grin.
You swallow, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him.
“I was right that it would be better if you remember. I can feel the hatred coming off you. I like that more than indifference.”
He pauses, his eyes raking over your body, like he’s hungry and you’re his next meal.
“Of course, other feelings haven’t changed. You know, it was so hard not to say anything that day in the library when I could smell how wet you were.”
You finally turn to look at him, eyes widening at his casual vulgarity.
“Or any of the other times you were clenching your thighs together. And all because of me,” he adds, eyes full of mirth.
“You’re lying,” you argue, but you can’t deny how warm your cheeks are getting.
“Am I?” he challenges. “It really wouldn’t matter. You’re mine to do as I please with.”
You try to hide the waves of heat you feel, but you can’t successfully hide anything from him.
“What would your Supreme think if she knew how easily you gave into me? If she knew how much of a whore, you are?”
He walks around you in circles like you’re prey that he’s just playing with until he’s ready to feast.
It’s dizzying.
“Maybe I couldn’t stop Cordelia from trapping me here, but I knew I wasn’t going to let you go. Her silly plan with the pomegranates,” he laughs. “I was going to pull you down to the depths of Hell with me. Which is where you’ll be for the rest of eternity.”
You shake your head, wanting him to stop taunting you.
“You’re a monster, Michael,” you harshly say. “I’m sure you feel more at home here.”
He just gives you a humorless laugh, something cruel settling in his eyes.
“Cordelia doesn’t care about you. Her hatred for me outweighed whatever love she had for you. She’s probably forgotten all about you.”
You try to pretend that his words don’t claw at your chest.
“But if I’m going to have my little witch by my side,” he continues. “She can’t be an insolent one.”
You instantly regret hurling any insults at him.
“I think it’s time you learn how things are going to work around here.”
He steps inside the circle, barely giving you time to move out of his way.
“On your knees. Now,” he says, his voice sounding gravelly.
You scramble to kneel at his second command.
“Tell me, little witch. Who’s your God?”
You look up at him, confusion in your eyes.
“What?”
The palm of his hand meets your cheek, moving your head to the side. A slight sting burns your skin.
“Let’s try that again. Who is your God?”
You just shake your head, trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes.
His palm slaps your other cheek, the same biting feeling spreading through your face.
“We can keep doing this until you get it right.”
At least when Michael walked the earth, he had many people to subject his torture too. Now, he just has you. And any other sorry soul that might cross his path, you think. The image of crimson pouring from that man’s neck is still burned into your mind.
“You, Michael. You’re my God,” you defeatedly say.
“And how should you worship your God?”
You catch his gaze, unsure how to answer.
All he does is move his hand to undo his pants, unzipping them until you get what he means.
Your eyelashes flutter as you move your face closer to his cock.
He’s already hard, so you give a small lick to his tip, tasting the salty evidence of his arousal.
He watches you start to put his cock into your mouth and down your throat.
A groan falls from his lips as you begin to fuck him with your throat, spit spilling out of your mouth as you choke on his size.
He puts a hand to the back of your head, helping you to take almost all of him. You can feel your own arousal coating your inner thighs.
“I knew you were good for something,” he says as you gag a little.
He surprises you by pulling you off him, letting you fall onto your ass while your drool hits your chin.
He’s quick to grab you, pinning you to the floor as he puts his weight on top of you.
“I want you to feel me cum inside you.”
He doesn’t waste any time before he rips your white nightgown off you, seeing your naked body for the first time.
His own clothes come off and you hate that even if you know how much of a monster he is, all you can think about is him fucking you.
His hands have your wrists underneath them, pushed into the cold hard floor. You can’t move if you wanted to, but you don’t think you would anyway.
All you do is blink, and his face has changed. His skin is paler with cracks running through it, almost like cement. And his eyes have gone black, no light or emotion to be seen, just darkness, an overwhelming evil you’ve never seen or felt before.
It frightens you. His body is colder as he pushes inside you, a growl coming from deep in his throat.
He doesn’t care to wait for you to adjust, he’s rough in his thrusts, setting a pace that already leaves you gasping for air.
“Michael,” you cry out. “It hurts.”
You know you sound pathetic which is almost worse than how full you feel, your cunt stretching to accommodate the size of him.
“Good,” is all he says.
He licks and bites at your breasts, playing with your nipples between his fingers. It’s both pain and pleasure and it drives you insane. You can feel him deep inside you, the tip of his cock hitting that soft spot nestled in you.
You wrap your legs around him, your walls clenching around him.
He kisses your cheeks, wet with tears from the pain you have felt. He just licks it up, finding your pain to be delicious.
His lips drag against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin.
He whispers, “I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby. Evidence of how you belong to me.”
You can feel your pussy squeeze him at the thought, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as he moves his hand down to rub your aching bundle of nerves.
It’s enough for the coil to snap. It’s only moments later when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his cum. He bites down on your shoulder, and you cry out in pain as he laps up the blood that seeps from the wound, soothing it with his tongue.
He’s breathless as he collapses on top of you, his skin going back to its usual color.
Your mind isn’t clouded with pleasure anymore, but you bring a hand to the curls on his head anyway.
He moves his head slightly to look at you, a smirk forming on his lips.
“If only Cordelia could see you now.”
764 notes · View notes
saintlucretia · 3 months
Text
Devil Wears A Suit
part Ⅰ
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Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader
Warnings: Mention of murder. Hot devil's son. Sexual harassment? Michael Langdon.
Summary: Y/N is a purple at Outpost 3 and gets interviewed by Mr. Langdon.
A/N: I will go to hell for this and I am not opposing if he will be there too.
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After 18 months at the underground Outpost life was as dreadful as being killed by a bomb explosion. Or worse. A bunch of snobs and shallow cowards. It was clear as day, that it was just a matter of time before everyone was at each other's throats. 
It wasn’t the Outpost itself or the fact that we are the last human beings on this planet that made everything so depressing. It was boredom. A hole in my head. The only bearable person here was Mr. Gallant. Without his company at the dining table, I could have stuck a fork into my neck.
That evening Ms. Venable announced to us about a visitor. The agent of the Cooperative. Even though she remained calm as usual I sensed a note of fear in her voice. So it means this new man has great authority. I was grateful for any kind of entertainment, even if it meant a bloody revolution. After 18 months with the same people, fresh meat is always dainty.
Ms. Venable ended her speech when a tall man with long blond hair entered the room. He had a dark aura. The aura of power.
“My name is Langdon and I represent The Cooperative,” he said, circling our table. “Humanity is on the brink of failure.”
I glanced at the other residents of the Outpost. They all looked tense and nervous, especially Ms. Venable. She seemed almost afraid of him. Only Mr. Gallant seemed as amused as me. We glanced at each other and I immediately understood what was on his mind. After all, he had a good taste in men.
“My arrival here was crucial to the survival of civilized life on Earth.” His speech was persuasive, words sharp and his blue eyes pierced into all of us. Such an ability to capture everyone's attention was making me delighted.
He stopped at the head of the table and continued. “The three other compounds have been overrun and destroyed.”
“What happened to the people inside?” asked Timothy worried. 
“Massacred,” answered Langdon and I think I caught the shadow of a grin on his face.
I bit my lip to stop myself from chuckling. I had to admit, this Langdon was a very attractive man. And Mr. Gallant was obviously admiring his appearance too. But there was something about The Cooperative representative that made me feel uneasy. It was as if he was hiding something. Something very bad. 
“In the knowledge that this very moment might occur, we built a failsafe… The Sanctuary,” he said, placing his hands behind his back. “I have been sent to determine if any of you are worthy and fit to join us. The Cooperative has developed a particular and rigorous questioning technique we like to call ‘Cooperating’. Simply, I will determine if you belong.”
I remained silent, analyzing the situation. Everyone seemed wary and looked at others with distrust. Only Coco didn’t have enough brains to remain silent and tried to openly express her dissatisfaction. Fortunately, her tirade was abruptly suppressed.
“I volunteer to go first.” Mr. Gallant raised his hand. 
“And so you shall,” Langdon said threateningly, looking us over. He had a cold, calculating look in his eyes. I had a feeling that he already knew who he was going to select.
“The process should only take me a couple of days, so you won’t be kept in suspense forever. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you.” I felt his gaze on me and barely restrained myself from looking away. 
Langdon left the room and everyone immediately started to argue. A bunch of morons, all of them. I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, observing the conversation. Everyone began to share their suspicions and guesses, but of course, they were all too wrapped up in their own fear to notice the whole thing. The Cooperative looked at us as laboratory rats and no one seemed to see that. Pathetic. 
I let out a sigh of annoyance and left the room.
                                                      ✦✦✦
I ran into Malcolm in the hallway an hour later and looked at him questioningly. 
“Oh, darling, I almost had a heart attack." He came closer and started whispering "I'm a bit scared of him. He is definitely hot as hell, but twice as evil."
I chuckled. "Well, that's quite a review. Did he tell you anything new?"  
Mr. Gallant leaned even closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "He asked me a lot of personal questions...I mean really personal."  
I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
“Like my sexuality for example. And my nana. And other… things. Pretty intimate. I felt so uncomfortable, but I tried to keep it cool.” 
My eyebrows furrowed in interest. So these "Cooperating" sessions were, indeed, quite unique. It seemed like Langdon wanted to know every minuscule detail about each person. I began to wonder what kind of "personal" questions he would ask me. I also began to wonder why I was so looking forward to the moment. 
“I felt like he was trying to rip out my soul.” Added Malcolm in a whisper.
I smirked. "Well, that's quite a dramatic way to describe it." Malcolm chuckled nervously but I had a feeling that he wasn't exaggerating. Langdon was certainly not the type of man that you could fool easily. He could see right through people.
But something was intriguing. I felt a strange thrill at the idea of uncovering the depth of Langdon's scrutiny. 
 "I guess I'll have to brace myself for my turn then," I said nonchalantly.
“Good luck sweetheart.” We kissed each other on the cheek and went in different directions.
I slowly walked to my quarters, lost in thought. I was feeling an inexplicable mixture of excitement and curiosity. The thought of being examined by Langdon, being exposed under the watchful gaze of his sharp eyes, was somehow appealing. God, I have to stop.
I shook my head firmly, trying to dismiss these thoughts. "This is ridiculous," I mumbled to myself softly.
Suddenly I heard something. Something like a scream perhaps. I stopped and looked around. There was no one except me in this dimly lit hall. And then this sound again. More like a whisper now. Millions of whispers. My head began to spin slightly. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Silence. Everything went quiet. I turned around and flinched as I saw Langdon behind me.
“Mrs. Y/S, I’d like to talk with you next.” 
I looked up at Langdon with a surprised expression, silently cursing myself for being so lost in my thoughts to the point of not noticing him coming closer. His presence was so powerful that it still made my heart flutter even now.
"Lead the way," I replied, trying to maintain my composure. 
Langdon didn't bother answering, simply gesturing for me to follow him. I walked behind him through the maze of halls and rooms. 
We finally reached the entrance to what appeared to be his cabinet. Langdon stepped aside, allowing me to enter first. Entering the room, I noticed how dark and ominous it felt. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with old leather-bound volumes. The main source of light was a fireplace.
Langdon gestured for me to sit down on the armchair across from him. I lowered myself gently, straightening my purple dress. 
He studied me, wanted me to be nervous, wanted me to crack. I knew this game. I have played this game with many different powerful men, who think they are Gods because they have dicks. I never lose in a game like this.
His eyes searched my face, trying to find any sign of weakness. But I held his gaze firmly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated.
I leaned back in my seat, a small smirk on my lips. "I see you're expecting me to be quivering in my boots," I said with a hint of sarcasm.
Langdon chuckled darkly. "Is that so?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. 
A silence fell between us, and I held his gaze without flinching. Something about his demeanor made my heart beat a little faster, but I was determined not to show it.
“I prefer conversations to be effective, Mr. Langdon.”
Langdon raised an eyebrow at my remark, a smirk forming his lips. He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "Straight to the point, are we?" 
He studied me for a moment, his eyes still locked onto mine.
"Well, I can appreciate a straightforward woman," he said, his voice surprisingly smooth. "It makes the process much more efficient."
He paused for a moment, his gaze never faltering. "Ms. Y/S," he began, my name rolling off his tongue like a sinful whisper. "Allow me to ask you a personal question."
“Ask,” I replied.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. His eyes were laser-focused on me, and I could practically feel his gaze trying to pierce through my soul. 
"What do you fear the most?" he asked, his tone almost gentle.
I was caught off guard by the question and made a mistake. Langdon noticed the slight flicker of surprise in my eyes. He chuckled softly. "That's what I thought," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "You may have mastered the art of bravado, but everyone has a weakness," he continued. "And I'm here to find yours." 
I watched him back and after crossing my legs answered "I fear being surrounded by idiots for the rest of my life." I needled.
Langdon raised an eyebrow, visibly amused. "Well, you certainly have a way with words, don't you?", he said, his lips curling into a smirk.
He leaned back in his seat, studying me closely. "Being trapped in a group of lesser minds for eternity may be torturous, especially for a woman of your... intelligence."
“For a man of your power, it’s a pity that you use flattery as a term of manipulation,” I said, tilting my head in a mocking manner. 
Langdon chuckled, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Ah, so observant," he said, still maintaining his smirk. 
He leaned slightly forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'm not just using flattery, Ms. Y/S. I do recognize your intellect. But don't mistake my compliments for manipulation. I simply use the tools at my disposal."
“Huh.”
Langdon chuckled again, clearly appreciating my dry response. "You have a sharp tongue," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “It may be your unique feature or a pathetic attempt to hide your fear.”
I could feel a flicker of irritation at his words, but I forced myself to remain impassive. Langdon was trying to get a reaction out of me, and I was determined not to give him the satisfaction.
"Perhaps it's a little bit of both," I replied, my voice cool and steady. "Or perhaps you're simply not used to people who don't cower easily in front of someone higher in rank."
He stood up from his seat and started circling me slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. “Be careful, Ms. Y/S. Your bold attitude is admirable, but at some point, this can play a cruel joke on you.”  His gaze burned into me as he studied me from every possible angle.
“I appreciate the warning,” I said coldly. “I don't fear intimidation tactics.”
“You are a brave woman.” Langdon's voice was suddenly close behind me, his breath lingering on the nape of my neck. A small shiver ran down my spine, and I had to suppress the urge to turn around and look at him.
“A little too brave, some would say.” he continued, his words almost a whisper. “Tell me, Ms. Y/S, is it hard to be the smartest in the room? To be forced to communicate with idiots?”
There was a hint of mockery in his tone that made me nauseous. But I still refused to let him see any sign of weakness. I sat up straighter in my chair, lifting my chin.
“It can be... annoying at times,” I admitted.
“It is irritating how arrogant the upper class is, isn’t it? Especially toward women.” I felt the touch of his fingers on my arm and I barely restrained myself from snatching my hand away. “The world before the bombs wasn’t that much brighter than this one, was it? They all mistreated you, and never took you seriously… Does the idea of them having everything infuriate you?”
His words hit a nerve, the subtle truth in them cutting through my defenses. Yes, the world before the bombings was far from perfect, and I had my fair share of disappointments.
But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had managed to hit a weak spot. I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. “And what makes you think you're any different from them?”
He chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing along my skin, tracing patterns against the fabric of my dress. His nonchalant arrogance was both infuriating and strangely enthralling. 
“Oh, I never claimed to be any different," he responded, his voice low and husky. “But I will say this - I appreciate intelligence, especially in women. I can see your potential.”
“Potential,” I repeated, struggling to keep my tone even. “For what, exactly?”
Langdon ignored my question. His hands, now both on my arms, crawled up to my shoulders. “Have you ever thought about punishing them? About finally showing what you are capable of, so they would never think you are only ‘pretty face’ again?” His breath tickled my ear. “Have you ever thought about making them scared of you?”
His hands on my shoulders were deceptively gentle, yet they seemed to burn against my skin through the fabric of my dress. His breath was warm against my ear as he whispered his words, making my breath hitch in my throat. 
I felt a strange mixture of anger and... excitement at his words. The thought had crossed my mind more than once if I was being honest with myself. To show them ALL how strong and brilliant I truly was. To shuffle a knife into someone’s throat. I remained silent. 
“I sense this force in you, Y/N.”
His voice seemed to fill the space between us, wrapping around me like a dark, intimate spell. He leaned closer, his chest almost pressed against my back. His hands remained on my shoulders, his fingers gently massaging my tense muscles. 
There was something about his voice, the way he said my name, that sent a shiver down my spine. It was as if he could see right through me, past the cool exterior I had been trying to maintain. He knew about the anger, the desire, the fire burning within me.
“I can tell you have a dark side,” he murmured, his voice deep and low. 
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about.” 
“Yes, you do.” His hands continue to stroke my shoulders gently. He was amused by my denial.
“You don't have to play coy with me, Ms. Y/N," he said, his voice velvety smooth. “I can feel it radiating off of you. That simmering anger, that burning desire."
Langdon leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against my ear. “You want... power. And I can promise you that.”
His words were a seductive murmur, weaving their way into my mind and planting thoughts of power and revenge. It was as if he knew exactly what buttons to push, what desires to awaken within me. 
"Power," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My mind was swimming, both alarmed and intrigued by his proposal. I felt like I was hypnotized. "Why… What’s the point?"
Langdon chuckled softly, noticing the effect his words were having on me. He stepped away from me, his hands finally leaving my shoulders. He walked around the chair, standing in front of me again.
"Because, my dear," he began, "I've observed your potential. Your intelligence, your resourcefulness, your strength. You're not like the other people in this house. You have ambition. And ambition can lead to power."
He tilted up my chin gently, so I could meet his gaze. "And I can help you achieve it." His thumb traced my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine.
When his finger brushed against my bottom lip I grabbed his hand, stopping him. He smirked and leaned closer, his face only a few inches away from mine.
“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery. “Did my touch... unsettle you?”
With a swift, almost graceful movement, Langdon sank to his knees in front of me. His hand found its way to my knee, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of my dress.
“I think the interview is over,” I said, trying to stand up, but he pressed on my knee, not letting me get up.
“I will decide if it’s over or not, Ms. Y/S,” Langdon smirked at my silence, slowly running his hand higher up my thigh. He could clearly see the effect he was having on me, the slight tremble in my body.
“What?” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “No witty comeback? No clever quip? Seems like you're losing your grip.”
"Losing my grip?" I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady. "Hardly. I am just amused by your behavior." Even a blind person would see my bluff and feign confidence.
“Oh? Really?” He stood up a bit, leaning closer to my face, almost whispering in my mouth. His proximity was intoxicating, his breath hot against my lips. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribcage, the desire coursing through my veins like a current. He slowly brushed his lips against mine and I felt a touch of his tongue on my bottom lip. 
It felt like drugs. It felt better than drugs. His tongue teasingly tracing along my bottom lip sent a shiver down my spine, making my legs tremble beneath me. It was overwhelming. I have never felt like this before. In that very second I could do anything for this man.
Suddenly he stopped and looked me right into my eyes, smirking satisfiedly almost like he read a thought that just got in my mind.
He stood up, turning away from me and I bit my tongue not to moan in disappointment. 
“We’re done for today, Ms. Y/S. It was a pleasure talking to you,” He said, opening the door for me. Smirk remained on his face, but Langdon seemed very calm. As if he didn’t just kneel and almost kiss me two minutes ago. 
I needed a few seconds to understand what had happened, so I blinked and then quickly stood up walking toward the door.
“Hope you have a good night, Ms. Y/S,” he said watching me and I can swear, as he was saying that, his hand slid to cover his groin and he definitely wanted me to notice that. 
“Good night, Mr. Langdon,” I mumbled and left the room. 
What the fuck has just happened?
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part two
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multific · 9 months
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Hail Us
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Michael Langdon x Reader
Summary: A short Christmas tale.
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You moved to your knees in front of the cross.
You prayed.
You prayed for good fortune, for health and peace.
Hail Satan.
You prayed for your husband's plans to go smoothly. You prayed for your soul to be damned along with his. 
And in return, you will continue to praise your only and true Lord, Satan.
Hail Satan.
You already gave yourself and your entire life to his son, Michael.
You did so because of love.
As simple as that was. Love.
You stood up and took another look at the upside-down cross.
With a smile on your face, you turn around only to see Michael standing behind you.
"My father must truly like you. You pray and he gives. I feel as if he likes you more than me, his son."
"He sure has a soft spot for me. But I believe it is fair. I am his daughter-in-law and I help you achieve your dreams. No need to be jealous."
"I'm more jealous that you spend time on your knees praying to my father instead of me." you smiled as you moved over to him, running your fingers down his defined cheekbones.
"I'm rather hungry, can we eat?" your distraction always worked.
Every time you were hungry, tired or thirsty, Michael was immediately on his feet, ready to help you.
Michael made sure you had the best meals.
"What did you pray for this time?" he asked during dinner.
"For him to grand my wishes. For us to be together forever. For our future to be filled with death and pain. Just like I always do." 
"You are so perfect. I still can't believe they thought you wanted to be on their side."
"My future is by your side. They were only a stepping stone for me to find you."
Michael smiled, recalling his youth and how much pain it caused him, but ever since he found you, he was more than okay.
"Merry Christmas, My Love." he raised his glass and you did the same.
"Hail Michael Langdon," you replied with a smirk.
"Hail Y/N Langdon, the bride of the Anti-Christ. The witch who's name brings fear into everyone's soul. The woman who made me into a real man, to live to my potential and be who I was always meant to be. Hail us."
"I love you so much, Michael."
"And I love you, Y/N."
The snow was falling outside as you continued your dinner.
And indeed, what a Christmas it was.
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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redroses07 · 7 months
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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.
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king-with-no-crovvn · 9 months
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I miss writing so, so much, and I still have so many ideas all these years later! Is anyone out there still reading for Michael Langdon these days??
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favouritehell · 9 months
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Masterlist
Minors DNI
✮ indicates smut
Harry Potter
Marauders Era
Remus Lupin
Sirius Black
James Potter
Regulus Black
Barty Crouch Jr
Lightning Era
Mattheo Riddle
Blaise Zabini
Theo Nott
Lorenzo Berkshire
Teen Wolf
Stiles Silinski
Scott McCall
Isaac Lahey
American Horror Story
Michael Langdon
Supernatural
Dean Winchester
The Umbrella Academy
Diego Hargreeves
Klaus Hargreeves
Five Hargreeves
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jaydedstories24 · 6 months
Text
For who YOU are– Michael Langdon AHS apocalypse
Summary: after Cordelia kills Ms mead Michael Langdon kills the other witches but takes the reader hostage when he sees that the others have escaped. For the first time in Michael’s life, someone wants to know what he wants.
Warnings: kidnapping, being held hostage, Burning someone at the stake, swearing, talk of abuse.
Word count: 1.6+
Tags: @ajokeformur-ray
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Y/n POV
“where did you guys go?” I say to everyone that's just walked in the door.
“To take care of a problem, dear” Myrtle says.
“and is there a reason why you went without me but everyone else” I asked.
I take a look at Zoe, Madison, queenie, Mallory and Cordelia they're all dressed in black.
“ You burnt someone at the stake didn't you” I accuse.
“Yes y/n if you must know we burnt someone at the stake” Cordelia walked passed me.
“Who” I asked.
Cordelia hasn't really spoken to me or has been really arrogant since Michael came into our lives apparently I'm the only one here that doesn't see him what everyone else says he is.
“Who” I yelled.
“the old lady with the black hairstyle” Madison answers.
“Ms. Mead you killed Ms. why on earth would you do that” I freak out.
“To show Michael that I’m done messing around with him” Cordelia says
Taking her by surprise I put both of my hands on the side of her head and forced myself into her memories.
Flashes, the burning, the smell of charred flesh.
“I will kill you all” Michael promised.
I take my hands off of Cordelia.
“I am your supreme you may have gifts that the others don’t but you will not use them on me” she orders.
“Some supreme you are you’ve practically signed our death certificates with that you do understand right? At least Fiona would’ve made a truce with him” I yell.
“Do not use my mother against me y/n” Cordelia scolds.
“I have gifts you don’t that is correct it’s also why I told you not to attack Michael everything I saw everything I warned you about” I told Cordelia.
“What you saw maybe true but that side of Michael is long gone I gave him a chance today and he turned it down” Cordelia replied.
“Of course he did you killed the one person he thought who loved him what did you think that you were going to walk off arm in arm, embrace the coven that killed the closest thing to he ever had to a mother. I don’t think he would want to bake cookies with you Cordelia” I spat
“I’m strong enough to take him y/n” Cordelia says.
“That’s a laugh” I smiled.
I turned around to walk back up the stairs.
“Where do you think you’re going Missy?” Cordelia questioned.
“To paint my nails so that they’re fresh for my inevitable death, are you coming Madi? I invite her.
“No, this shits crazy I’m out for what it’s worth y/n I hope you live you’re the only one I like around here.” She walks out the front door.
“When Michael comes here and trust me he will. I won’t fight him and I won’t protect you” I warn
I walked upstairs.
Red.
Red I think is a fantastic colour to paint your nails before you die. I think painting them black is just a little on the nose.
It has started my blood runs cold I can hear the witches downstairs especially the younger ones calling out for me. But if I have any chance of being able to really meet Michael for who he is I can’t do anything. So I put my headphones on and paint my last nail.
I look up when I smell the metallic scent that blood gives off.
Michael stands at my door my breath hitches. It’s different looking into Michael’s eyes they’re look hardened much unlike the sweet past version I saw him as in murder house. However they still have the Same jaded look on his face
He stands there for a moment before racing towards me I only flinch when he blows black dust into my face.
Floating? I feel I’m floating I don’t open my eyes I’m too tired and strangely I’m at peace.
I feel someone put me on what feels like a wooden chair and put something on my wrist.
My head rolls forward and I wake up.
“Thank Satan I thought you were going to sleep forever then you wouldn’t have been very helpful to me” Michael says.
“Yeah well that stuff smells like goats ass” I say half smart.
“No that would be me actually” he tells me.
Now that he says that it gives me a moment to take in his appearance disheveled, dirty but mostly he looks broken.
“Listen Michael I know you’re going through a hard time–“ I start.
“A hard time your witches killed my Ms mead and now you’re going to help me” he yells.
“I’m not going to be much help to you” I say quietly.
“You will help me whether you like it or not” he towers over me.
To my surprise I don’t quiver when he stands over me.
“You see when the witches when they notice you’re gone they will have to come out of hiding and look for you” he tells me.
“No they won’t we got into a disagreement. I’ve been arguing with the coven for months now” I disagree with him.
There’s a look in his eyes that proves he wants to believe me but some part that thinks he can’t after everything he’s been through.
I struggle with the rope’s around my wrists. They start burning.
“They’re cursed ropes they won’t hurt you unless you try to escape” he says.
In this moment I found that interesting he doesn’t intend to hurt me. I stop resisting and relax.
“You say that the coven has had a disagreement with you. What could possibly cause that much of a rift that they wouldn’t protect their own” he asks me.
Michael sits down on a wooden box waiting for my answer.
“You, we had a disagreement about you” I answered hesitantly.
He leans forward slightly, “what about me?”
“They think you’re evil” I answered.
Michael seems suspicious for a moment, “you don’t”
I shake my head.
“Why” he scoffs.
“Because after you performed the seven wonders and the extra challenges Cordelia made us look into you. She sent Madison and I to the house you grew up in”
“What did you find there?. Did you find whatever proof you were looking for?” He seems intrigued.
“The others found what they needed to crucify you but I don’t agree with them” I answered honestly.
“If you went looking then you would have also found that I am the Antichrist” he says.
“But that doesn’t make you evil Michael it makes you powerful. I know about your upbringing, about Constance’s abuse, trying to get to know Tate as your dad and your interesting relationship with Ben. Michael I know a lot about you and I understand it but everyone your entire life has done nothing but force their opinions on you” I say softly.
He takes a moment to comprehend everything I just said to him.
“So you know full well everything I am so you understand why I’m so upset about Ms. Mead she is the one person who didn’t force anything on to me” he says softly.
I sighed. He hasn’t realised it yet but she was using him too.
“Don’t suggest otherwise to me don’t lie to me” he orders.
“Michael I’m not I promise to you I’m not” I tell him.
He seems to be waiting for an explanation.
“I have a particular gift that allows me to adsorb a memory and share it with other people would it be okay if I could share it with you” I asked him.
“That’s a trick I know better than that do not take me for a fool. You just want me to untie your hands” he says.
“No, Michael I use touch to transfer the memory using touch. I don’t want you to untie my hands until you’re ready, until you trust me and only then. I’m asking for permission to touch you” I explain.
He walks over to me and kneels down to my level, “do whatever you have to do, show me”
I lean forward the smell doesn’t really bother me anymore. I lean forward far enough that I’m barely touching him. I just need confirmation that he’s okay with this.
He stares at me with his blue eyes that seem to be staring into my soul. “Y/n it’s okay, kiss me.” This is the first time he’s said my name.
My lips touch his and lock my touch is as light as feather. I whisper the spell I need to to show him the memory.
He stays there absolutely shocked for a moment tearing and shaking.
He quickly undoes the ropes.
“I don’t even know what to say as shocking as it is I am thankful for the truth how can I thank you,what can I do for you ” he tells me.
Tears slide down his face.
I hug him. “Michael I want to get to know you for who you are.
The end
Author’s note this is my first post on my new account hope you like it. Anyway this is inspired by a conversation I had with a friend sorry I didn’t get to it sooner I’ve been busy
Requests are open
98 notes · View notes
sunni-yg · 4 months
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𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏꩜.ᐟ
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langdonss · 2 months
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MEDIA: ❛ AMERICAN HORROR STORY ❜
THEMES: Evil government, abduction, corruption
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The moon stares down upon you, bright and eerie, piercing through your window in all its fullness. The slight red tint of it casts a shadow on your tired face that is smooshed into your pillow. You’re off somewhere else, lost in a deep deep sleep whilst your body has sunken into the bedding, completely unaware of what’s about to happen to you… Your foot glides softly across the cool sheets of your bed, the perspiration causing messy hair to stick to your forehead in the humid summer night air.
The floors creak in the dead of night amongst the crickets chirping near your window, their singing coming to an unnatural halt which make the air feel… Eerily still…. The wall goes bump, another floor board creaks and then there’s nothing… Until, your bedroom door slowly sways open, not making a single sound.
Suddenly, two sets of arms lunge toward where you lay asleep in your bed, quickly and securely grabbing your body. You jolt upwards, your eyes snapping open in a panicked haze. Not a word is uttered, but your screams pierce through the entire house like a banshee and not a single grunt is forced from either man dressed in black while they effortlessly take control and hold of you, picking you up from your mattress. Something swiftly swoops down over your head faster than you can comprehend, and their hands work fast to tie your struggling arms into tight ropes before carrying you off from the confines of your room through the halls, their boots stomping.
❝ You're only making this more difficult for yourself. ❞
A mans deep voice speaks out as you yell and struggle, a hand clamps over your shrieking mouth firmly shutting you up. Every kick and flail is counteracted by an iron grip that makes your fighting limbs go limp.
You muffle through the fabric, but no answer is given. Instead, you're thrown against a cushioned surface, and the sound of a large car door slides shut, the sound pounding in your ears whilst the earth shifts from under you quicker than you can stomach, your body sliding against the seating as the vehicle takes off. Your pulse is pumping faster than it ever has in your entire life that you’d swear your heart could explode and give out any second now. A million thoughts race in your mind of what is happening, are you being kidnapped? Trafficked? You don’t want to find out. You scream again, your plea falling on uncaring ears. The silence eats away at you, it’s so fucking quiet in the cloth bag that’s wrapped over your head, each and every bump and creak sounds so far off in the distance, and the air is constricted just enough so you can still at least breathe. The drive to wherever the men are taking you seems to last forever, and eventually you give up, all the squirming and calling out for answers gets you absolutely no where. You lay there on your side, you can’t imagine how pathetic you look all curled up back there, a bag over your head, your arms tied at your front. Tears have stained your face to the point it’s burning your cheeks and the insides of your confinement is annoyingly moist. How much crying can you do before you run all out and dehydrate yourself?
❝ We’re heading near the base, prepare the gates. ❞ One of the mens voice calls out in the dead silence, causing you to snap out of your depressed dissociation and become alert.
The vehicle enters on a gravel path, slowing its speed as it approaches toward a giant gate in the middle of nowhere. A man, Mr. Langdon, awaits your arrival at the other side of the gates as it swings open at a snails pace. The men take the drive further up ahead and the gate closes behind them, before they jump out from their seats to walk around to either side of the car to fetch you.
The doors are forced open, and you hear another persons foot steps approaching in the gravel of the driveway.
❝ I see you’ve gathered her in one piece. Your handiwork is much appreciated. ❞
A new voice speaks out in a smooth and almost elegant tone. You stay still and silent, but your breathing hitches with anxiety at the nonexistent context of what’s going on or where you’ve been taken to. The men grab your body up, dragging you from the back seat and propping you on your feet before you begin to scream and throw your legs out just as you did earlier.
❝ She’s not going to cooperate. ❞
Mr. Langdon remarks snidely. You can hear the amusement in his voice as he watches the men pick you up and throw you over their shoulder. They begin walking off, and your body is moved back and forth with each step they take as they hold you down with a strength that is unmatched.
You sob, feeling the man carrying you come to a halt while he waits for the other to follow, his hand quickly retrieving into his pocket for a key card, sliding it into the lock of the door before where they stand. A mechanical swoosh and a beep fill the air, followed by a loud sound of something opening before they resume their walk down a dimly lit corridor of a facility.
Their stomping boots echo off the black walls, and his hand tightens on your back side. Quicker than you can understand, something sharp jabs into your upper arm, the surroundings begin to blur all into one.
You’re almost at your destination…
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…. Brightness envelops your surroundings in a quick flash, your eyes close shut tightly to block out this new harsh lighting, turning your head to look away as a groan escapes your lips. A deep breath fills your nostrils, you can breathe, you can see. You thought the time would never come. But you fail to recognize where the hell you are, and your half concentration is disrupted by the sound of heavy boots approaching against the cold floor of the dim and chilling room.
Clack.. clack… clack..
A tall, and brooding figure steps from the confines of the corner of what you can only guess is some sort of government facility. His jawline, sharp, protrudes with amusement at the distressed little sight of you where you sit, still tied in place. You squint, looking around. Your wrists burn in the ropes that hold you back.
❝ You put up quite the fuss earlier…. I’m not sure that warrants you insight on the situation at hand. ❞ Mr Langdon teases, his voice deep and mocking. He steps closer, the flourescent lights up above flicker down upon his features; Sneering lips, golden blonde hair that curls perfectly around his ears, icy hues that stare into your soul.
A gloved hand delicately reaches out down toward you, the mahogany leather on his fingers shining in the light. ❝ Poor thing, bound and tied with no idea what’s to come…❞
You interject as best you can, the effects of the injection from earlier still barring its toll on you. Lips move slowly and your words come out in a slur.
❝ What… what is this… place…? What do you want? ❞
The man only stares at you with a widening smirk, taking a moment to carefully articulate his answer in a way you will understand best.
❝ Our exact motivations are none of your concern, for now. The only concern you should have is your future here, with us. What you can give the Cooperative. ❞
You swallow a knot in your throat. Nothing could prepare you for what was coming…
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saintlucretia · 3 months
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Devil Wears a Suit
part Ⅱ
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Pairings: Outpost!Michael Langdon x Female!Reader
Warnings: Blood, Mention of murder, Sexual harassment?, Explicit content, Curse words, Hot devil's son, Not proofread.
A/N: I tried my best, hope you enjoy.
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A long night passed and the morning came. Well, if you can trust the clock. There were no windows at the Outpost for sunlight to penetrate the room, although even if there were some, it would not matter since after the bombs the sun disappeared behind a thick wall of fog. Fog of death.
I woke up with chills and sweat. Something haunted my dreams all night, making me shiver like a little lamb. Even though it was an unpleasant feeling, it added color to a pathetic parody of life that I have been having for the last 18 months.
Yesterday’s events bothered me. Moreover, they annoyed me. It was bright as day, that Langdon was messing with all of our minds, yet some part of my silly brain wanted me to believe that I was truly special. That he saw something, that no one else could.
I slowly walked to the bathroom. My bare feet touched the cold marble and I involuntarily shivered. I was tired. A mess. I washed my face and sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. Suddenly I noticed a motion somewhere behind, I turned my head and flinched. Snakes. They were crawling from the bath. Devilish creatures hissed showing me their poisonous fangs. I quickly ran out of the bathroom shutting the door behind me. What the hell? I caught my breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Are there snakes in my bathroom? I felt like I was going insane. Something cold touched my feet. Snakes. I jumped on the bed with a gasp. My closet and floor near it were full of them. They swarmed, intertwining with each other. Dozens of snakes. The other second I was already at the door, running to the hallway. Still barefoot in a white Victorian nightgown that Ms. Venable made us wear. I backed away from the room door and my back hit something soft. I turned around quickly, facing Michael Langdon's piercing blue eyes.
“Something wrong, Ms. Y/S?” he asked, preventing me from falling.
I stared at him for about a minute before words rolled out of my mouth.
“Snakes. There are snakes in my room.” My voice was hoarse, my fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket.
He was clearly amused by my state, studying my expression. Langdon chuckled, "Oh, really? Snakes, you say?" His eyes shone with a sly glint. I watched as he pushed me aside and glanced toward the room I had just run from.  
"May I?" he asked, and entered the room without waiting for my reply. I slowly followed him. To my horror, as we entered I saw nothing. Snakes were gone. Impossible.
“They were here. I swear to God they were here.” I mumbled looking around the room.
I noticed Langdon’s face contorted in hostility. 
“Don’t say such stupid words, Ms. Y/S. It’s unnecessary here.” 
I closed my face with my hands and sighed. Considering my appearance and edgy state, I totally looked like a mad woman. Nobody believes a mad woman.
“I believe you,” Langdon said, approaching me as if he read my thoughts. “Strange things sometimes happen. But it’s just… interesting that it happened in your room.” 
"What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my eyebrows, my gaze searching his face.
“You probably know that snakes have always been representing sin. It’s their main dignity. Servants of darkness… if you believe in symbols, of course.”
I let his words sink in briefly, my gaze drifting to the ground lost in thought. Snakes… sin… Snakes slithering in the garden of Eden… temptress Eve... I understood where he was going.
I huffed at that, scoffing. "Is that your way of calling me sinful? A corrupted soul? Please, spare me the Bible lessons."
Langdon raised an eyebrow at my comment, a playful smirk on his lips. 
"Oh, I'm not calling you sinful," he said, leaning against the nearby wall, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe. “But as you said it… it would be amusing to see you getting corrupted.”
I rolled my eyes. "Then what are you calling me?" I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of irritation. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to regain some composure.
Langdon chuckled at my defensive stance. His eyes gleamed with amusement. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly approached me.
"Are you always so feisty in the mornings?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
I gulped as he came closer, a mix of annoyance and something else stirring inside me. His intense gaze made me feel cornered and yet, strangely… excited? My breath hitched as he was now standing directly in front of me, the space between us barely existent.
He raised his hand, a single finger tracing an invisible line down my cheek. "Or is it just my presence that gets you going?" he murmured, his voice dripping like honey.
The touch of his fingertip felt like a small electrical shock to my system. I tried to control my breathing, determined not to let him see me flustered.
"Your presence is hardly something exciting," I retorted, my voice a bit shaky. "It's more... irritating."
He smirked at my response. His finger trailed lower, down my jawline, and stopped at my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
“Well, as I recall it was you, who fell into my arms with fear, m?”
I hated how his words were effective. I hated how true they were. I hated myself for being so affected by his presence.
I tried to compose myself, my jaw clenched tightly. "I was just surprised," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but my heart was beating too hard for any nonchalance. “There were snakes all over the room.”
Langdon chuckled, his thumb left my face and he slowly started walking toward the door. 
"Indeed there were," he replied, casually leaning against the door frame. He seemed relaxed as if the topic was of no real importance.
I watched him for a moment, trying to decipher his nonchalant behavior. He was enjoying this, the way he was playing with me. The way he was playing with everyone. 
"Are you going to explain what happened here, or just act like it's normal for snakes to appear out of nowhere?" I asked, unable to hide the annoyance in my voice.
Langdon chuckled at my question, that arrogant smirk never leaving his lips. "Isn't the mystery part of the thrill?" 
He walked out, closing the door behind me, leaving me again excited and annoyed. Silence engulfed the room after he left. I was left standing there, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind replaying the events that just occurred.
I sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge with a thump. The silence was deafening, the only sound being the steady beat of my heart. I couldn't shake off the feeling of… anticipation. Anticipation for the next time I would see him. That son of a bitch.
I quickly dressed up and went to the day room. We didn’t have breakfast there. We barely ate at all. Some kind of nutrition cube at lunch and water. Balanced diet. 
No one yet tried to break the rules of the house that Ms. Venable had set, so when I entered the room almost everyone was already there. Same people, same walls, same music. I was going insane.
I took my usual seat, the conversations around me blending into a dull murmur. I felt suffocated as if I was drowning in the monotony. All I could think about was the next part of the interview with a representative of the Cooperative. 
Sanctuary could be a lie, who can verify that? All this can be a way to manipulate us. Even Ms.Venable was afraid, she didn’t trust him but obeyed. We were a flock of sheep in a pen with a hungry wolf. 
I was lost in thought when I noticed someone settling into the seat beside me. I turned my head to see Mr. Gallant.
"You seem lost in thought," he noted, his voice soft. "Everything alright?"
“Yeah, just… had an unpleasant morning,” I answered shortly, not wanting to tell him anything. I replayed all morning and yesterday's events in my head again and felt anger in my body. It made my blood hotter. 
He had no time to answer, as Ms. Venable walked into the room. Her presence immediately silenced the conversations. Her expression was stern, and she scanned the room with a critical eye.
"Good morning," she began, her voice steady and authoritative. She leaned on her cane and raised her voice a bit. “Today we are having a special treat. Don’t be late for lunch.” She turned from us and slowly started walking away, her heels echoing through the walls.
“Oh, by the way,” she stopped for a second but hadn’t turned her head. “Ms. Y/N, Mr. Langdon is waiting for you in the interview room.” She said harshly as if his name was disgusting to her.
I could feel the eyes of the others on me as they turned their gazes in my direction. I stood up slowly, trying to seem unbothered.
The walk to the interview room seemed longer than usual, the silence only interrupted by my footsteps and my rapidly beating heart. I will beat this motherfucker.
I knocked on the door of his cabinet and entered. There he was, sitting on the table, as he was waiting for me in that position intentionally. His pose was casual but deliberate. His gaze met mine, a smirk on his lips.
"Ah, Ms. Y/N," he greeted, his tone mocking yet playful. "Sit down please." 
I tried to retain my composure, refusing to let him see any hint of my nervousness. I sat down in the chair opposite him, trying to maintain some distance, yet feeling the closeness of the cramped room.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steady but cold.
“Well, It’s the second part of your interview-” He began but I interrupted him. 
"Cut the act, Langdon.” I snapped, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “This psychotic bitch with her ridiculous rules is already sucking our blood, I don’t want another arrogant dick here, who thinks he can intimidate us. We both know this isn't a real interview. Even if Sanctuary is true, selection is just part of your manipulation." 
Langdon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh really?" He stood from the table and slowly started to circle me, like a shark circling wounded man in the water. I instinctively followed his movements with my eyes. "And why would I come to the Outpost then?" He stopped behind me, leaning closer, his breath warm against my ear.
I felt my breath hitch as he came closer, his breath sending a shiver through my body. I resisted the urge to lean away, instead sitting ramrod straight in my chair.  
"You tell me," I retorted, my voice betraying a hint of the unease I was feeling. He continued to circle me, his presence making the room feel even smaller.
Langdon chuckled at my response, his footsteps echoing around me as he completed his circle. He stopped in front of me. Smile gone.
“You are scared. It’s okay to be scared.” His calmness filled my mind with anger.
“I’m not.”
He smiled and leaned closer, resting his hands on the back of my chair, boxing me in with his arms.
“Of course you are,” he chuckled. His gaze fixed on mine. “And you should be.”
His arms on either side of my chair made me feel trapped. I could feel the power radiating from his body, and I had to fight the urge to lean back. I inhaled his smell, expensive cologne. Sweet, yet bitter, he smelled like dominance. It was hypnotic.
His chuckle was almost mocking as if he knew the effect he was having on me. I raised my chin defiantly.
"Why would I be scared of you?"  I retorted, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You are nothing more than the obedient dog of The Cooperative.”
As words rolled out my mouth, I almost immediately regretted saying them. His smirk faded, eyes flashed with irritation and something even worse. I felt fear scratching my heart.
"Careful," he warned, calmly. "I'd watch your tongue if I were you. You don’t want to lose it, do you?”
I swallowed hard, my bravado wavering under his intense gaze. His threat lingered in the air like a shadow, and I knew he meant it. 
"I'm not intimidated by your empty threats," I managed to say, without thinking. Dumb bitch.
Langdon chuckled darkly, and the sound made goosebumps rise on my skin. Before I could say anything, his hand shot out and wrapped around my throat, not really choking me, but just enough to be a warning.
"Empty threats?" he repeated, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You think I'm bluffing?" His grip tightened slightly, causing a gasp to escape my lips. I could feel my eyes widen in panic, but I tried to maintain a brave expression. “Tsk, tsk, I can already imagine how nice it would be to cut out that pretty tongue of yours.”
I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips at his threat. His grip on my throat was strong, constricting just enough to make me gasp for breath. 
"You... you wouldn't dare," I somehow managed to squeak out, my voice sounding weak and fearful. 
“Oh you think your pathetic life costs anything?” he leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “I could stab your stomach and rip out your little heart with my bare hand and no one could stop me.”
His words stung like a physical blow, and I felt my heart race in panic. He was deadly serious, looking at me like I was nothing more than a nuisance.
"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please don't."
Langdon's hand tightened the grip around my throat. He smiled at my pleading, a cold, cruel smile. 
"Begging already?" he asked, his voice mocking. "And after you so bravely challenged me."
My hands scrambled to pull away his wrist, trying to loosen his tight grip on my throat. I couldn't speak, could barely gasp for air.
His smile widened at my futile struggle, he enjoyed playing. He leaned closer, his face inches away from mine. 
"This is what happens when you challenge someone with power," he murmured. "You get humbled."
I was unable to say a word, strangled by his hand, tears starting to well up in my eyes. The room started to spin, and my vision became disoriented.
“Still, have hesitation about my authority?” he asked, his tone almost soothing.
"N-no... no..." I managed to choke out.
His hand released its grip on my throat, allowing me to gasp for air. My body slumped against the chair, trembling uncontrollably. I took a moment to recover from his grip, my heart still pounding and my breath shaky. I felt smaller under his gaze, like a mouse trapped under the eye of a snake.
Langdon chuckled at my reaction, his eyes glinting with cruel enjoyment. "Pathetic," he said, the word dripping with derision. 
I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, and I knew he was relishing every moment of my humiliation.
Langdon reached out, his fingers gripping my chin tightly, forcing me to look at him. His touch was rough, a stark contrast to the smoothness of his voice as he spoke. 
"Now can you listen to me?"
I nodded weakly, my throat still sore from his assault. Langdon saw the fear in my eyes, and his smile widened at the sight.
"Good," he murmured, his hand slowly releasing my chin.
His gaze never left me, his eyes scrutinizing every reaction I made.
"You were smart enough to figure out the whole interview thing," he said, his tone casual yet calculating. "But you're not smart enough to know when to keep that pretty mouth shut." Langdon chuckled, a twisted sound that made me flinch. "Still, I appreciate the fire," he said. "Most of the other 'interviewees' are a little too... shallow, I’d prefer most of them dead by evening." 
His eyes never left mine, studying me intently. I tried to hide any emotion.
"They all tremble before the thought of going to The Sanctuary and willing to please me in any way. But you're…," he continued. "You're unfortunately not satisfied with just being an obedient pretty face. No, you have an attitude. And that, my dear, is your undoing."
“M’sorry.” I breathed out quietly.
"Apologies mean nothing," he said smiling. "The main thing is understanding how everything works. So tell me, did you truly understand the lesson here, or does your pretty little head need another reminder?" His tone was cold and condescending, making me feel even smaller. 
The fear that had subsided slightly came rushing back, cold and constricting - raw.
"No, no, I..." I stammered. "I understand." 
Langdon chuckled. "See, now that wasn't that difficult, was it?" he crooned, his hand reaching out to trace a finger along my jawline. His touch was mocking, a cruel gesture that sent a shiver of disgust through me and I diligently tried to hide it. It was hard not to move away. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“Now we can have a productive talk.” He said, turning away from me. “You have brains, I’ll give you that. So why not put them in use, hm?” 
I could feel a slight sense of relief as he turned away from me, but it was quickly replaced by a wary uncertainty. His change in demeanor was unpredictable, and I had no idea what was coming next.
"What... what do you mean?" I asked, my voice betraying my unease.
He began pacing back and forth in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back.
"You're clever, resourceful... more useful from. And I hate to see potential go to waste."
He stopped in front of me, his eyes studying me intently. I could practically feel the gears in his mind turning as he weighed his words.
"But the problem is, you're stubborn," he said finally. "And that stubbornness leads to insolence."
He leaned in, his face mere inches away from mine. The smell of his cologne hit my nose again. Crisp and masculine scent.
"And insolence, my dear," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Is a trait I don't tolerate."
“I understand that.” I said semi-calmly.
“Oh, you are a quick learner as well.” he murmured. “Good girl.” His tone was still mocking, and I hated how the praise sent a flicker of warmth through me. I tried to remain stoic, but his words were starting to chip away at my defenses. 
He stepped back, his gaze still locked on me. 
"I have an offer for you," he said. "An offer that could benefit us both, if you play your cards right."
“What offer?” 
“I want you,” he began. “To work for me.” 
“Work for you?” I asked dumbly.
He chuckled at my confusion, enjoying my surprise.
"Yes, work for me," he confirmed. "You'll be doing research, digging up information on others, doing necessary tasks, anything I need. Think you can handle that, hm?"
“But… how?” I wasn’t expecting that offer at all. And how the fuck should I dig on others?
Langdon smiled at my question, obviously finding it amusing that I wasn't catching on.
"How?" he echoed. "You seemed smarter a few minutes ago."
He leaned against the table again, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You'll be my eyes and ears, gathering intel for me. You'll tell me everything you see, hear or feel. And in return… I’ll put in a good word for you with the members of the Cooperative." 
I sat there, watching him silently.
He waited a moment, letting his words sink in. He was watching me intently, waiting for my reaction.
"I can see the wheels turning in your head," he began. "You're thinking about all the possibilities, aren't you? Life at The Sanctuary is heaven if you are friends with the authorities." He smirked.
He was right. The possibilities were spinning in my head like a whirlpool. 
But I knew there was a catch. People like Langdon never offered anything without expecting something in return. Something much bigger than collecting information. 
“What’s the catch?” 
He smirked at my question. His eyes were glittering with satisfaction, clearly enjoying his little game.
"Ah, are you always so suspicious or am I an exception?" he asked, tilting his head a bit.
“You think I shouldn’t be suspicious of the man who almost choked me to death a few minutes ago?” My tone filled with venom and I bit my tongue, afraid to anger him again.
“Don’t be so dramatic, it was just a friendly reminder” he said leaning closer to me, whispering. “And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that, you are bad at hiding it.”
My heart skipped a beat, a mix of anger and embarrassment rushing through me. 
"Enjoy that?" I shot back. "Why would I enjoy being strangled by a sick psychopath?"
He smirked at my outburst, seemingly unfazed by my anger. 
"Now now, no need for name-calling," he said with mock hurt. "You can lie to yourself if it gives you comfort, but I saw the way you reacted, the way your body tensed, and the way your pupils dilated."
His gaze roamed over me in an almost predatory manner, making me feel exposed.
“Anyway, we have more important things to discuss than your sexual desires.” He smirked. “Accept my offer?”
His brazen, almost predatory manner was as infuriating as it was intoxicating. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I refused to look away. 
"Accept your offer..." I echoed, trying to sound strong. "You haven't exactly explained the full extent of this 'job' you're offering. I need more details before I can even consider it." I forced the words past my lip.
“It’s easy. You are loyal to me and I promise you protection. It’s always useful to have an intelligent, pretty head on your side.” he said, looking me up and down. “Before me, you were all alone among bastards, but now I offer you my hand and I really don't recommend biting it.”
“So I have to become a backstabber?” 
"No, my dear, you're thinking too low. You won't be backstabbing anyone. You'll merely be... helping me to form a new society. " He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Don’t tell me you are afraid of getting your hands bloody, I saw the way you look at Ms. Venable. You are bloodthirsty."
My eyes widened at his observation. I wasn't surprised he had caught on to my hatred for Ms. Venable, but hearing him say it out loud was another matter. 
"I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty," I said, my voice firm despite the shiver that ran down my spine. "I'm just not fond of being used."
Langdon sat on the edge of the table and smiled, almost genuine, he looked at me like I was a little kid.
“Come here.” he said calmly and beckoned me with the nod of his head.
I hesitated, not sure whether to obey his command or not. I slowly stood up and walked over to him, stopping a few feet away from him. It was crazy how he was radiating comfort and dominance at the same time. 
“Closer. I won’t bite.” 
I stepped closer and his hand reached to stroke my hair.
“You are special.” His voice was surprisingly gentle as he spoke. His fingers tangled in my hair, his touch both soothing and possessive. “You can achieve a lot or… stay here and rot with others.”
His words were like a cold bucket of water, snapping me out of the odd comfort I found myself in. I knew he was right, of course. Staying here meant settling for a life on the sidelines, living in fear and boredom. Or just die.
"You don't play fair, do you?" I said, my voice tinged with irritation. "One second you're choking me, the next you're stroking my hair and promising me the world."
"And why should I play fair, hm? Rules don't work anymore here, chaos has won." He leaned closer. 
I found myself smiling despite myself. It was probably still a shock. My mind couldn't keep up with what was happening. There was a dangerous charisma to him, an irresistible charm that I couldn't quite explain.
"That’s a convenient excuse for you to do whatever you want," I shot back, trying to sound defiant. "No rules means no boundaries."
Langdon chuckled again, his smirk widening. His hand slid down from my hair to rest on my throat again, his thumb brushing against my pulse.
"Careful," he warned, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I might start thinking you're enjoying this a bit too much." I freeze. “And about the rules… I prefer bending them, instead of breaking."
I didn’t answer, waiting for him to continue. He smiled, clearly enjoying my reaction. His thumb traced lazy circles on my throat, making my pulse quicken involuntarily.
“You don’t want to die here, do you?” He whispered in my ear. “It would be a shame if such potential would remain undisclosed…” His hand moved lower, gently touching my collarbone. “In this body.”
His touch ignited a strange fire inside me. I desperately tried to ignore the way my body reacted to him, the way my heart raced and my skin tingled where he touched me. 
"You make it sound like I'm a ticking time bomb." My voice came out a little breathier than I intended.
"Oh, don’t sell yourself short, darling," Langdon purred. "You’re more like a grenade. A beautiful, deadly grenade.” His hand caressed my skin. “So… Do we have a deal, Ms. Y/N?” 
I stared down at the floor, then back at Langdon, my gaze calculating. After a few seconds I nodded. “Deal.”
“Wise.” He smiled. “Now let’s make that official.”
His left hand went to grab my waist, while the other reached out to take something from the table. Small dagger. I instinctively tried to pull back, but his grip on me was unwavering
“No need to be scared, little lamb.” He handed me the weapon with the hilt forward. 
“Official?” I echoed.
“Yes. Deal in blood.” His answer made my body flinch.
The cool metal of the dagger felt heavy and unfamiliar in my hand. 
“Aren't you afraid that I would stab you?” I asked him, trying to hide my fear.
Langdon chuckled darkly, liking the question. 
"You wouldn't dare," he said with absolute confidence. "You're far too smart and too… intrigued by me to do something so foolish."
His eyes glittered dangerously like he was daring me to prove him wrong. "And besides... I have a feeling you're far more interested in finding out what it would be like to be on my good side."
He directed my hand, in which the dagger was clutched, and leaned the tip against the palm of his left hand. “Cut.”
I watched in fascination and slight horror as the blade made a small incision in his hand, a thin line of blood forming on his palm. He didn’t even flinch, his gaze locked on mine the entire time. It awakened in me something feral.
“Now you,” he said, his voice low and steady.
He grabbed my hand, his grip gentle but firm, and guided the knife to my palm. The sharp pain was muffled by his lips on my cheek. The warm blood slowly pooled in my palm. 
He pressed his wounded hand against mine, the touch inflicted pain. The blood from his hand mingled with mine, the warmth and stickiness of it a strange and yet somehow comforting sensation. 
 "And with that..." he said, his voice hushed. "Our deal is sealed."
I felt the burning urge to press my lips to his. Without clearly thinking I leaned to his face, kissing him hungrily. He didn’t return the kiss, but didn’t pull away either. 
"Now, now, dear," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Don't get ahead of yourself. No need to complicate things…"
His gaze flicked down to my lips, his own curving into a smug smile. I was ashamed of my bold move and confused by his stubbornness. He was a man after all, wasn’t he?
"Complicate?" I repeated, my voice tinged with sarcasm. "Says the one who just made me swear a blood pact."
Langdon chuckled, amused by my attempt at irritation. "Ah, don't pout," he said, his hand moving to gently cup my jaw. 
"Just because I'm not giving in to your every desire doesn't mean I’m inaccessible.” He leaned closer to my ear. "But keep pushing, darling. I do love it when you act up, maybe next time you wil get lucky." He carelessly brushed his lips along my wound, making me whimper quietly, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment. God, he is killing me.
Langdon pulled back, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His hand left my jaw, and I found myself missing the feel of his touch already. I leaned forward, wanting him to touch me.
"Ah ah ah," he tutted, his voice mockingly chiding. "I can practically feel your eagerness, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't have you slacking off on our deal."
He gestured lazily to the door. "You should return to your routine. Can’t have Ms. Venable catching you slinking around here for too long."
I bristled at his order, but I knew he was right. I nodded grudgingly.
"Fine."
I started to walk toward the door, my wounded hand throbbing a little from the recent events. But before I reached the threshold, Langdon's voice stopped me.
"Oh, and Y/N?"
I turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
His eyes were glinting mischievously.
"A word of advice," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Try to control that urge of yours. It's going to get you in trouble..." He paused, his gaze roaming up and down my body. "Or is it already too late?"
“Check it yourself next time,” I answered boldly and grabbed the door handle.
I couldn’t see his face, but was sure that he was amused.
"I might just take you up on that offer." I heard his smooth voice, as I left the room. "Off you go, little lamb." 
I shut the door behind me and leaned on it with my back. Probably that’s what it feels like to sell your soul to the Devil.
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Have a good day <3
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beastsovrevelation · 7 months
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Michael Langdon x Female!SO (N/S/F/W edition 🍋)
Originally a reference sheet my WIP's. Mostly generalized headcanons. A seperate list of specific scenarios can be found here.
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Switch for the right woman. Still, he certainly wants his fair share of dominance.
Likes it when seduction takes effort. If a girl is hard to get, he'll want her all the more. But. Should he feel the chase is taking too long, he may resort to drastic measures. Not rape, think more he imprisons his love interest, until she accepts him. Isn't beyond coercion.
Will absolutely fuck his love interest while she holds a blade to his throat. Think Troy, but she never drops the knife.
Despite the previous points, he enjoys when it his SO takes initiative. Shove him onto down, and mount him. Wait for him in lingerie. Come onto him, seriously.
He bites. A lot. Marking his territory turns him on.
Likes to show off. The notion of getting heard, or even caught, doesn't bother him. He wants others to know his love interest belongs to him, and him alone.
"Your're mine" is a constant. Will go feral if his SO tells him the same, or responds "I'm yours."
Prone to getting rough. Will cluth his lover's hips until they're bruised, pull her hair, wrap his fingers around her throat. He wants her nails ripping his back open. He is a Beast, after all.
Loves eye contact, and seeing his SO's face contort with the pleasure he gives her. This kind of despair turns him on. Loves to leave her exhausted, breathless, and empty-headed. Often takes time to admire her limp, sweat-covered body afterwards. Isn't against receiving the same treatment, though.
Enjoys giving and receiving oral equally. A master of cunnilingus. Likes to grasp his lover by the chin after coming into her mouth, and watch her swallow. Alternatively, doesn't mind being kissed with his own cum still in her mouth.
Has extremely high stamina. Also, often prefers long foreplay. Loves to tease.
Big into pillow talk.
Enjoys his Mark being kissed and licked.
Can get toxic. As in, sometimes, he'll pin his SO down and, essentially, force himself on her during an argument, or when he's frustrated/angry. But, he'll stop if he's told to.
Has a huge breeding kink.
His adoration of breasts may or may not have to do with the previous point.
Into ritual sex.
Excited by blood. Him and his lover drawing each other's blood. Sharing blood. Bathing in the blood of a victim or a sacrifice
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