#sad michael langdon makes me sad too

[velangdon]

AMATIVE→Michael Langdon: Chapter 1

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

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

Everyone is celebrating the future deaths that will occur tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But dad, I was just..."

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

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

But none of that is who I am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Red and Black.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We are supposed to be part of that elite.

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

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

"Mom, what are you..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ahs apocalypse #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #cody fern #american horror story #michael langdon x fem!reader #ahs fandom

[mercifuldeaths]

The Heat that Drives the Light

Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: Michael hasn’t been himself having to literally carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. Because Michael hasn’t been okay, you haven’t been either. 

Notes: Just a blurb that got out of hand. Was originally supposed to be really smutty and about distracting Michael while he worked...but this came out of that. I think it’s a little more interesting to take down the walls that Outpost!Michael puts up and get a little more into his psyche. Sorry it’s a bit sad and not smutty at all, but I hope you enjoy, nonetheless. 

Warnings: Sad cockwarming. Because apparently I’ve made that a thing. 

Word Count: 3K

Credit to @yourkingcodyfern​ for the beautiful gif.

Being underground was suffocating. The walls closing in, high ceilings not doing enough to clear the air and you felt the dust settling in your lungs. Outpost Three had become something strange to you. Having spent happier times there with Michael when things were simpler placed fond memories in certain corners where he had hiked up your skirt or placed little nips on your neck. But now, it reeked of desolation.

Sure, there were the Sanctuary candidates, but did they really matter? Gone were the warlocks that Michael had called his friends, his teachers, your mentors. All that remained were the near-empty hallways. Modified victorian dress rather than the Hawthorne uniform you liked to remember Michael wearing, his hair still short, and eyes still bright.

He had hit something of a wall. After traveling to all the outposts, each of them overrun, each failing his father a little more, Michael started to turn inwards-even to you. You knew it wasn’t you nor him. It was the stress, because that’s all he could be described as of late. He hid it well, you admitted. Perfectly coiffed hair, tailored suits, and a cocky grin on his lips all made up for the man you knew was crumbling under the facade. The crushing guilt he felt for not carrying out his father’s plan to perfection.

It really wasn’t that bad...it was just one of those nights. A night where Michael was overwhelmed and working himself into the ground. He had been sat at the desk in what was his former dormitory when he was a student. He opted to take that one, refusing another Outpost guest to take ownership over it. Sentiment, you supposed.

Regardless, he sat there since dawn, or what you imagined was dawn as it was impossible to tell in the claustrophobic bunker. He had refused meals, even offering something from the stash you both had packed from the Sanctuary, and only accepted coffee. Just something to keep him going. You knew this wasn’t how he had intended to spend the day. He was dressed in his usual tailored shirts and jacket, ready to face the guests. But he hadn’t stepped outside the bedroom. And on days like that, he usually would stay in his sweatpants, hair tied in a bun, and shun the world from seeing him like that. Vulnerable. Out of his armor.

He was growing distant. Again, not at his fault and probably rooted in your natural insecurity of the relationship. It wasn’t easy being the partner of the Antichrist.

You continued to roam the halls, anything to do at this point ,having read all the interesting books in the Hawthorne library ages ago. The other guests of the Outpost were asleep, mandated by Venable’s strict schedule. She knew better than to say anything to you.

Your shoes clicked on the polished marble of the floor, almost comforting you. You felt less alone, in a sense. The sealed corridor that lead to the room Michael performed his rituals in was slightly pushed in, reminding you that maybe he had started one. That’s really all he did. Work from his computer, work with the other Cooperative higher-ups, and work for his father under the guise of asking for help. You knew better than that.

It was maybe the third time you had to pick Michael up off the floor, blood still painting his skin and the floor around him, you asked him to stop. He had passed out. Weak from blood loss, dehydration, probably malnutrition. You begged him to slow down, to take a break. He couldn’t. He literally had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You could tell it was getting to that point again, because it did ebb and flow depending on the state of the world, the outposts, the competency of the Cooperative that week. It was understandable. Outpost Three was a success in some ways. But others, a massive failure. Nobody was making it to the Sanctuary. He had closed the book on every person left in the world. Made his final cuts, and was now weighing the decisions heavily in his mind. It was extremely successful because it was still standing, almost everyone alive. And then there was that Mallory he was trying to figure out-sitting on his knees, blood pooling as he screamed for help, screamed for answers. You weren’t sure if he was actually asking his father for help or just needed to scream his frustrations. There was a feeling sometimes that Satan had given up on him, left him here to flounder until everyone on the earth, including Michael, was gone-given into the fire and disease around them.

With really nothing else to do, and nobody to talk to, you meandered back to Michael’s room. Even if you shared it during your stay at the Outpost, it would always stay as Michael’s dormitory in the back of your mind.

You took the long way. Passing by your secret corners, the library shelves you’d hide behind, the kitchens where midnight snacks were shared...anything to remind you of the Michael that stole your heart and soul.

You sighed before opening the door, not bothering to knock as he had probably already heard you. Preparing yourself for the image of your overworked Michael, a sight that saddened you just a little, you opened the heavy door.

As you expected, he was sat there, typing away on his laptop. The blue light of the screen cast ghoul like shadows on his features, reminding you of the demon’s face you had only borne witness to once. That with the warm light coming from the candles and fireplace set Michael in a strange light. Regardless, it accentuated the stress hiding in his shoulders, between his brows, his tightened lips.

He didn’t look up, but did spare a, “Hi, my dove,” as you headed over to the bed. Changing course, you decided to walk over to him, your Antichrist who seemed so small lately. Feeling a little selfish, you ran your fingers through his hair, something you knew would distract him but also something you needed.

It had taken a toll on you, the only person you really trusted, to abandon you, in a sense. You just wanted to feel him. Touch him. And judging by the way his typing slowed and he leaned into it, you suspected he needed the same. His eyes closed lazily, sleepily, as he rested his cheek against your palm. You rubbed soothing circles into his cheekbone, admiring the beautiful face that was hidden under the layers of stress, under the pressure put on him. When he was himself, his face was soft-no tension, pure radiance. Eyes not shooting daggers, no snarling lip, venom in his voice. Just a man who was forced to grow up too fast, thrown the world to carry, and nobody to help him hold it.

You’d said it a million times to him, but it didn’t stop you from muttering a small, “You work too hard, Michael,” while still stroking his soft hair.

“I know,” came the familiar reply, voice hoarse from lack of use.

“But you have to,” you said before he could. You knew the script by then.

“...But I have to,” he echoed, typing stopped for a moment, his hand coming to meet yours that had somehow settled over his chest. “I know I’ve been….absent lately. You know I don’t want to be doing this, right? I didn’t know it would be like this.” He looked to you, bloodshot eyes starting to tear. Before any could fall, she shook his head to refocus and let his eyes look over to the small collection of empty mugs that covered the desk, so very unlike Michael’s usually neat freakish tendencies. He picked one up, dark, cold coffee sat at the bottom, obviously abandoned quite a while ago. He knocked it back, grimacing at the too strong, bitter grinds that had made it into the cup. You saw his hand shake, just the slightest amount.

“Maybe no more of that.” You took the mug from him and replaced it on the desk, further from the others and his collection of files. “Come to bed, it’s late.”

He hesitated and you already knew the answer. “I just need to finish this. Then I can sleep.” He nodded, almost trying to convince himself that he’d be sleeping next to you soon enough. “In a few minutes… get in bed and I’ll meet you.”

He tried to smile. It wasn’t like he was unaware of what he was doing to you. He saw the way your heart seemed to break a little more each time he had to choose work over you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t in his plan. His nor Satan’s. Michael knew deep down that he was never supposed to fall for anyone-he hadn’t the time.

But had happened. And you were his.

He wouldn’t change it for anything.

“I’m not sleeping without you tonight,” you mumbled, leaning over him from behind and gently kissing his neck. Just a small motivation to get him to relax, just a little. You untied the messy bun his hair had been pulled into, loving the way it fell to his shoulders and framed his face against the contrasting lights.

His eyes remained unfocused, looking away in guilt. He wanted you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you. It was that there wasn’t enough time and for all his planning everything remained a failure. He supposed that maybe he deserved this as punishment. Working every day, nonstop, while his love was there and waiting for him. A sick mockery of Hell itself. Michael suspected that it was his father’s doing. Allowed to remain living as a reward for bringing the end times but punishment for not doing it well enough.

“I’m so-sorry,” he choked out, voice still rough and cracking.

Coming around to stand in front of him, you tilted his head up to look at you. No more words were needed as you leaned down to place a gentle kiss to his full lips. You felt a sigh come from him, a small amount of tension leaving. He couldn’t help but move against you, hands reaching to your waist, your cheek, anywhere. He needed to feel you. Feel how you moved, breathed, radiated energy. Just to feel something living and breathing in this cold, dead world he had created.

Before even thinking, processing that he was still busy, you slipped off the dressing gown you had on as coverage as you meandered Hawthorne earlier. Michael settled his hands on your hips, thumbs tracing small circles as you stood before him, in between his spread legs and his desk. He leaned in, lips and tongue tracing your stomach and sides. Unable to stop himself, he pulled you in, arms wrapping around tight, until you were settled straddling his lap.

You continued the open but small kisses to his neck. Unbuttoning his shirt, you slid it down his shoulders, knowing full well that he wouldn’t fully undress but needing to feel his warmth against your cheek as you rested on his shoulder. He was hardening under your ministrations but that really wasn’t your intention as you just needed to feel him. Not even sexually. Just as another person. His warmth. The rise and fall of his chest, his breath.

Knowing you were causing just another distraction in his already busy life, you stopped your small movements but couldn’t find it in you to climb off, reveling in the sensation of him against you. He felt the same. Your weight on him a reassuring presence that maybe he wasn’t as alone as the thought.

Taking a moment from the small bites he was leaving on your shoulder, he looked past you, eyes settling on the open laptop. You felt him sign under you, already defeated. His hands hesitated over your hips, refraining from grabbing you like he wanted to.

“Michael. Look at me,” you whispered, the room only full of the sounds from the crackling fire. Your thumb traced over his cheekbone, eyes pleading for him to just relax for even a moment. “Please…”

He couldn’t, ashamed that he’s let it get this far. Let himself get so caught up in work that you were neglected...that he, himself, was feeling neglected. He sighed, eyes still downcast. “I have to. I know we’re both feeli-”

“You can keep working. I know how important this is. I just wish you would let me help you relax a little.”

“I miss you.” The confession dropped from his lips. Despite spending every day, almost all day, at his side you missed him, too. Even when you were sitting beside one another, laying in bed, even occasionally while intimate...he felt miles away.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m right here.” You resumed placing small kisses onto his temple, jawline, all the places that made his eyes flutter shut and heart full. His hardness still pressed into you and you reached to cup him through his tailored trousers.

“Y/N….not tonight,” he choked out, looking broken.

“No. I don’t want you to fuck me, I just need to be close to you. I need you.”

Michael nodded slowly, recognition setting in. He allowed you to remove him from his confines, breath already coming faster now that your hand was gripped around his length.

“I need you, too. Please. I need to be in you,” he murmured against your lips, sounding more desperate than he cared to admit. You nodded in response, noses brushing innocently, and placed another kiss behind his ear, over the mark of the Beast. The very thing that defined him, made him what he was, who he was. The reason he was this overworked shell of himself. You couldn't help but still love every part of him.

Not completely free of bad intentions, you pressed yourself against him so he could feel the slick heat of your core against himself. Michael let out a soft moan, his mouth occupied toying with your nipple. You felt him shiver under you and tingles resonate up your spine. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t the time to play cruel to your Antichrist.

It didn’t take long for you to line yourself up to him and before you could do anything, Michael’s steady hands gripping your waist forced you slowly downward onto him. Once fully seated on him, the two of you let out contented sighs. His head rolled back and your hand instinctively went to catch it, supporting his neck. You took the opportunity to nip on his full bottom lip, but smiles bloomed over both of your faces. Finally home.

“You...still need to work.” The spell remained unbroken, however. He nodded reluctantly, head now resting on your front.

“I know,” he resigned and you felt his hands leave your body, cold rushing in where his touch left. It was mere seconds later you heard the quick taps of his nimble fingers over the keyboard, the shuffle of paper.

It was irrelevant. Everything was except the warmth you felt radiating from him, the stretch of your cunt around him, his body inside yours. Physically as close as two people can be. Emotionally...you were getting back there, you could feel it.

He showed it in small ways. A small kiss to your palm when you’d graze a hand over the velvet of his jacket, the softening of his eyes from across the room when dealing with Cooperative business or reprimanding Outpost inhabitants. It was there and always would be. You knew the shroud was lifting and it would be back to hiding in the corridors of Hawthorne, his laugh radiating and a perfect match for his boyish grin.

One of his hands removed itself from the keyboard to caress down your spine and settled at the base, warm and firm. You breaths matched, each sigh shifting him inside you, hitting a new angle, making you feel even closer than before.

The keyboard clicks continued, slower due to the fact the one of his hands was stroking the soft skin at your hip. Michael’s shoulders dropped a fraction when you placed your head on his shoulder, nose brushing the sensitive spot under his jaw. His eyes lowered, breath softened.

Over the course of the minutes, he would occasionally drop a kiss onto your shoulder, soft and awfully chaste considering the fact that he was buried in you. But it wasn’t about that, that evening. It was about Michael and who he was and his breath and movement and reminding him that maybe things weren’t so bad in the godforsaken hellscape he was responsible for. That there was still some good left, despite the original goal to strip humanity of that.

And he knew it. He felt it from you. The undying love that you held for him and he could only be reminded that there was good left. And that he loved you, the same.

The typing continued even after Michael dropped a cheek to your shoulder, head tilted, as he somehow continued working through his drooping eyelids.

“Mmmmmm,” he mumbled into your skin, exhausted.

“I know.” He didn’t need to speak, you already knew what he was trying to say.

His other hand settled on the back of your neck, the only sound being the crackling fire and candles. You shivered and he pulled you in, bodies still connected.

“Michael,” you whispered, going to suggest that maybe you two go to bed, but the small shake of his head told you that he’d rather stay put.

His breathing evened out, face still resting on your shoulder. All his muscles relaxed into your touch. Finally at ease.

Your fingers threaded through his hair and you considered waking him to move to bed...but you were comfortable too. Warm and finally feeling a little more complete with him inside you. Perhaps closing your eyes for just a few minutes couldn’t hurt.

Tags: @ccodyfern @langdonsinferno @langdonsrapture​ @starwlkers​ @michael-langdon-appreciation​ @babypinkstyles94​ @i-will-die-for-jim-mason​ @langdonalien​ @katiekitty261​ @duncvn​ @wroteclassicaly​ @lvngdvns​ @aveiangdon​ @americanhorrorstudies​ @sojournmichael​ @1-800-bitchcraft​ @nana15774​ @langdonsdemon​ @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul​

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon smut #ahs apocalypse #ahs fanfiction #ahs coven #cody fern fanfiction #jim mason #duncan shepherd #langdon #outpost michael #sad michael langdon makes me sad too #why do i write sad things all the time idk

[lanawinterscigarettes]

could you write any smut w jennifer check or michael langdon pls😩😩 🥰🤞🏾

How dare you make me choose between those two 😤 I decided to go with Jennifer because I need to post more content on her tbh

Morning Hunger (Jennifer Check x reader)

Warnings: SMUT, cunnilingus

You were sleeping in on a Saturday morning when you felt someone trying to nudge you awake.

"Babe. Babe, wake up!" Your girlfriend Jennifer said as she pushed you hard enough to roll you off the bed.

You pushed her back, irritated she had woken you up. "Go away. It's sleep time, not waking up time."

"But I'm hungry," she said as she flopped down on the bed next to you.

"Well, go out and kill somebody then. I'm not stopping you." You snuggled farther into your bed, trying to go back to sleep.

She pulled the blanket down off of you as she straddled one of your thighs.

"Hey, what gives?!"

"That's not what I'm hungry for," she said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at her. "Is that seriously the only reason why you woke me up? Because you're horny?"

"I'm not horny," she pouted. "I'm hungry. There's a difference. Besides, you know how moody I get if I don't get the chance to taste you at least once a day."

You raised your eyebrows at her. "You're moody either way."

She huffed. "That's not the point. Look, I promise I'll be quick, and so gentle you won't even feel anything, and I promise I'll let you go back to sleep right after, okay?"

"Oh, alright," you said. "How could I say no to such a beautiful face like that? Especially since you sound so pretty when you beg." You smirked.

She grabbed one of your legs and pulled you closer to her.

"Ow! Jennifer, you said you'd be gentle! You promised!"

"Yeah, but that was before you decided to tease me," she stated matter-of-factly.

You gave her a look as you felt her pull down your pajama bottoms before slipping off your underwear. She knelt down in between your legs, taking in the sight of your bare pussy.

Feeling her hot breath on your thighs, you groaned and said "Jen, don't tease."

"That's karma for you bitch," she said before placing the flat part of her tongue directly on your clit.

You shivered, subtly shifted yourself farther down the bed so your pussy would be closer to Jennifer's face. If she noticed, she didn't say anything about it, as she was far too busy kissing and sucking your clit to care.

You let out a soft moan as she moved her mouth further down, teasing your entrance with her fingers as her other hand was wrapped around one of your thighs.

Her tongue felt as though it was engulfing you, cover your entire pussy in one lick as she slipped one of her fingers inside your core.

Panting, you reached down to gently brush her hair out of her face. She responded by plunging a second finger into your tight hole as she ate your pussy.

You arched your back, feeling yourself getting closer to release by the second. "Jen, I- I think I'm gonna-"

"Oh, are you gonna cum?" She asked mockingly as she added a third finger.

"Jen, please," you begged as tears started streaming down your face. "I can't take it much longer."

"Cum for me baby," she commanded as you came all over her fingers. She quickly leaned her head back down to lap up your juices as you whimpered at the overstimulation.

Lifting her head up, she smirked at you and asked, "Wanna taste?"

All you could do was stare at her, too exhausted to say anything. She crawled on top of you and gave you a wet, sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on her mouth.

"See, aren't you glad I woke you up?"

~

Taglist: @langdonsoutpost @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube

#jennifers body #jennifers body imagines #jennifers body imagine #jennifers body x reader #jennifers body fic #jennifers body smut #jennifer check #jennifer check imagines #jennifer check imagine #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check fic #jennifer check smut

[7-wonders]

Can you do a michael x reader where they have a little girl together and she tells him she is sad and its cute and fluffy

STOP I LOVE ANY OF THE BOYS AS DADS

//

When the infernal copulating between a human and a ghost created Michael Langdon, Satan bestowed upon his son many powers that would help him on his plans to world domination. All of these powers, be it telekinesis or pyromancy, mind reading or the power of persuasion, had come in handy as Michael grew up and followed the path that had been decided for him since long before he was born. If you had to take a wild guess, though, you would assume that Satan had not foreseen Michael using his powers to keep an eye on his small daughter.

Michael can sense Aurora's turmoil before she's even rounded the corner to his office. His sweet girl, named after the dawn to remind her parents that there was always light after the darkness, her being that light for them. Even when he was traveling far and wide to take care of business in the Outposts, he could still mentally check in on his daughter randomly during the day. Being at home in the Sanctuary, that link is amplified by 1000. It also doesn't help that she's just as dramatic as her dad (your claim, not Michael's) and that she's a master-in-training at making her emotions known to everybody.

The door to Michael's study swings open, Michael staring expectantly until he sees his daughter's blonde curls peek up over the desk. She should be napping right now, even though she adamantly claims that four-year-olds do not need naps. Aurora's naps are the one time you'll leave your daughter with a babysitter without Michael's suggestion, using this free-time as an uninterrupted hour and a half to go and accomplish whatever you need to do. You had mentioned this morning that you were interested in checking on the progress with the re-colonization of the newly-restored Earth, which is probably where you are.

"Rory," Michael attempts to scold (impossible on a normal day, but especially when he slips up and uses her nickname while trying to be the tough parent), "why aren't you with Ms. Mead right now?"

Aurora huffs, eyes shining with tears as she comes around the desk and stands in front of Michael with her hands on her hips. You claim that she's the spitting image of Michael, but when she stares at him with that determined look in her eyes, all he sees is you. "She doesn't know I'm gone."

"And how did you sneak away?"

"I was real quiet," Aurora explains.

"Uh-huh." Michael raises an eyebrow, but she remains unflinching. "You're supposed to be taking a nap right now."

Her bottom lip quivers, and Michael crumbles. "'m sorry Daddy."

Michael takes his daughter's small hands in his, the comforting gesture causing her to fully burst into tears. "Lovebug, why are you sneaking around the halls?"

"I just miss you!"

"What do you mean?" Michael lifts her onto his lap. "I'm right here."

"You were gone for so long, an-and now you're here, but you're always busy."

Yep, Michael's heart is definitely broken now. "We talked every night while I was gone, though!" One of the perks of the Cooperative needing technology is being able to see his family even if he can't be with his family.

"But you weren't here!" Aurora wails, throwing her head into his shoulder and sobbing more.

"Oh, please don't cry."

Michael wraps his arms around her in a tight hug, shushing and soothing her until her cries turn to whimpers. After a few minutes, Aurora finally brings her tearstained face up from his suit jacket, Michael using his thumb to wipe her tears.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you." Michael can admit that he's definitely been busy lately, but he hadn't realized that it was affecting his daughter so much. He's been trying to spend extra time with her before she goes to bed, but that's not enough to keep her from missing him.

"Mama misses you too," Aurora says sleepily, one hand hanging by her side and the other lazily holding onto Michael's shirt. That settles it, Michael thinks as he secures his arms around Aurora and stands with her, walking to the little girl's bedroom. Unsurprisingly, you're already sitting in the rocking chair, waiting for your two favorite people to return.

"Ms. Mead was worried, so she came to find me," you explain.

"Sorry for running, mama," Aurora mumbles, blearily staring at you as Michael lays her on her bed.

"It's okay, baby. I know you just wanted to go see daddy."

Michael awkwardly sits on his cloak, sitting next to Aurora and holding onto her hand until her breathing evens out. Even when it does, he doesn't let go of her.

"I've fucked up, and I'm sorry," Michael begins.

"My love, please don't apologize. You're busy trying to rebuild the world," you say.

"But she doesn't understand that. She just knows that she wants me to be more present, but I'm not."

"She's four. Four-year-olds have big emotions, okay? It's all or nothing with them."

"I had a home built for us on the beach," Michael blurts suddenly.

You look up at him, startled. "You what?"

"I wanted to wait until the perfect moment, but there's really no better time than this. We'll still have our forever home, wherever we decide to make it, but this can be our own little paradise, our own Eden."

Michael puts an image in your head of the house and the location, and you gasp. "It's--"

"The beach where we had our first kiss. The beach that we got married on."

During Michael's Hawthorne days, which felt like a different lifetime now, you and he often snuck out to meet each other on a beach on the coast of Malibu. In hindsight, it's hilarious that you both danced around your feelings for so long when those were the lengths you went to to see each other when you were "just friends."

"Let's go away for a few days, just the three of us."

"But what about your work, the Cooperative?" You try to sound concerned for him, but you can't hide just how excited you are by this surprise.

"That can wait. Nothing is more important than my favorite girls." You surge towards Michael's lips, tenderly kissing him in thanks.

"I love you."

"I love you too, and I'm sorry for not being there for you or Aurora."

"I mean, just you taking a couple of days off will make it up to Aurora," you laugh.

"Daddy's not gonna work?" Aurora must have been woken up when Michael slipped his hand from hers, having caught the tail end of the conversation.

"Nope, I'm all yours."

All of Michael's doubts and worries, his fears and anger, none of it matters when he sees how brightly his baby smiles at him.

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #ahs #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse imagine #ahs imagine

[mrs-march-ahs]

American Horror Story Hunger Games

This is an idea I’ve had for absolutely months. I needed to set it free.

Summary- Ever wonder what would’ve happened if 24 of the most brutal characters on the show were put together, in a life or death arena?

This is how I believe this would play out.

Enjoy, tell me what you think :)

1. Richard Ramirez (1984) – Savage and persistent, but easily frustrated. He wasn’t able to get Brooke or Mr Jingles. Has soft spots and can be somewhat toyed with and puppeteered. He’s young, and has weaknesses and cracks in his personality.

2. Dandy Mott (Freak Show) -A literal savage. Killed his own mother and played with her dead body. Doesn’t like when things don’t go his way. If somebody managed to escape him, he would need hours to recover. He’s very emotional and that could be his biggest weakness. Wouldn’t be very sneaky or secretive. Would get bored of the hunger games very very easily and would want out. But he would never suicide, he would just complain.

3. Kai Anderson (Cult) – So manipulative. Convince people to kill each other. Convince people to make Dandy crazy and weak. Make false teams and alliances. Convince people he’s the worthy one and people should sacrifice. A lot of less strong personalities could end up being his little puppets. Larry (13) and Sally (16) need to be told what to do, and he would tell them. If he made it far enough, he would be able to outsmart and kill both of them.

4. James Patrick March (Hotel) -Has plenty of experience. Get along with Arden. If we’re killing, let’s make it fun and explore. Wouldn’t be as much about winning as it would be about the game for him, completely opposite to Kai. James would want to make the experience exciting and mutilate people. He’s somewhat a lone wolf though and would struggle making alliances unless others reached out. The Countess is a big weakness.

5. Margaret Booth (1984) -Killed a whole camp because she was making fun of her. Convincingly blamed it on Jingles. Cut off ears with no hesitation just to fit the story. Kind of creative. She would get far, because people would underestimate her. Nobody would think she was a threat, but she would be very quietly cutting people off and blaming it on others. She would also tell people lies all the time, like “Be careful of March, I just saw him kill Piggy Man” when it was actually her.  

6. Tate Langdon (Murder House) -Good at justifying his own actions. Very sensitive and would spend the first half an hour crying. He wouldn’t have a weapon at first and he would sit and cry about it in a tree. Would try to save somebody from Michael though. He would get along very well with Sally, but Kai would see him as a lose end and wouldn’t even try to kill him. Kai sees Tate as such little of a threat that he’s not enough worth his time killing, because somebody else will inevitably kill him, or he’ll get sad and kill himself. Tate would hide out most of the time before he started getting mad and killing people off. But he would only do that if he had a gun, as he’d be a bit cautious if he thought others may have weapons. Likes jumping out of camouflage and scaring people.

7. The Butchess (Roanoke) -Goes on savage rampages and can’t be stopped.

8. Twisty (Freak Show) -Doesn’t have the psychopathic motivation. Desperate for attention in a way. The way he kills is very theatrical and that could be a big weakness. Secretly very emotional, and would be in two different personas. During the day, he would hide out and think of plans, trying to not get too overwhelmed by his own emotions, and then during the night he would become Twisty and kill people. He would be very protective of younger people or those who he classed as vulnerable. He’d help them hide out and protect them, promising them that when their time comes, he’ll go easy on them and they’ll die peacefully.

9. Bloody Face (Asylum) -Him and Arden could work together, but Bloody Face would be slightly scared of Arden. He does still have soft spots. Mommy issues. He would get frustrated sort of easily and want to do things his way, having the bodies for a certain amount of time, etc. But his attention to detail and desperate need for warm touch would get him killed. If he were to work with somebody, he would prefer to be guided.

10. Dr Arthur Arden (Asylum) -Would be able to convince JPM to experiment. They would both be fascinated by Franken Kyle, but they would both want to go after weaker women first. Dr Arden would suggest The Countess and James would stab him on the spot.

11. Franken Kyle (Coven) – Damaged, but full of rage and anger. Just so angry. Obviously, not only does Kyle need guiding and being told what to do, but Kyle definitely needs protecting. Kyle would struggle to find a warm place to sleep and food to eat. If he had somebody (like Sally or Mary Eunice) to take care of him in those ways, he has the potential to be a murdering machine. But if he were left by himself, he would venture too far away from the middle. He would get upset and frustrated trying to find a warm shelter to sleep in and he would freeze to death in the pouring rain in the night, crying himself to death. :(

12. Charles Montgomery (Murder House) -Made the Infantata. Clearly mental. But he wasn’t so much of a cold-blooded murderer as he was fascinated by anatomy. He’d want to make in interesting, and that would kill him off. He would waste so much time with dead bodies.  

13. Larry (Murder House) -Kai’s servant. Incredibly loyal, he killed for Constance because he’s in love. His weakness would be trying to be too efficient. He wouldn’t want to do actual dirty work by himself, he would try to set up traps or set fire to people, maybe even poison them. Things would take too long and he wouldn’t be secretive enough. He would either be killed in self defence by a potential victim or Kai would kill him for taking too long.

14. Piggy Man (Roanoke) -Will disappear if you say Croatoan. Weakling.

15. Marie Laveau (Coven) -Put Kathy in a cage and buried her alive. Clearly not only has the rage and anger inside of her, but also able to act on her darkest thoughts. Too sympathetic however, which would be a weakness. She would easily sympathise with whoever told her the right story. She would become maternal over Franken Kyle, Tate, or Michael. One of the people who she took good care of would back stab her.

16. Hypodermic Sally (Hotel) -Does have a high death count. So sensitive and emotional. Her and Tate would get along. Similarly to Tate, she would go on hard rampages for a while and then need time to recharge. Her need for attention and human affection would absolutely kill her. She would constantly approach people and try to make alliances, but be so annoying and look so untrustworthy that people would kill her.

17. John Lowe (Hotel) -Got the anger inside of him because of Holden. But does need guidance. James would guide him, and he would do what he was told. He’s a very solid contender, and apart from needing guidance the only thing that would kill him is his own fatigue. Unlike some of the hardcore murderers, he wouldn’t be able to keep going constantly. He would need time to unwind and might do that with Sally, before killing her. He could make it all the way, but he wouldn’t because he’s exhausted and drained. Might kill himself, but probably will get killed while killing somebody else.

18. Ally Mayfair-Richards (Cult) -Did kill her own wife. But definitely needs strong motivation. Winter deserved to die just as much as Ivy but Ally wasn’t able to do it. Would need somebody to do some of the dirty work for her. Obviously if she was in the hunger games before her villainy arch, she would die immediately. She would submit to anybody she needed to just to survive for the sake of surviving.

19. Michael Langdon (Apocalypse) -Literally the antichrist. But wants guidance. Seeks approval in the same way Bloody Face does. He has the potential to win as long as he didn’t talk to anybody or listen to anything anybody said. The second he got too far in the game and started to try and play mind games and make alliances is when he would lose. The plan that worked for him was if you see somebody, follow them, kill them. He’s strong and cunning and that could’ve let him win.

20. Mr Jingles (1984) -Too soft. Would only be motivated by his family and need to survive for them. Surprisingly enough, he would completely refuse to work with anybody. He would always think that he wasn’t in here to make friends but to survive, and getting to know people would complicate things too much. He would be killed when he’d be asleep in his own hiding place.

21. The Countess (Hotel) -Only kills if she’s betrayed. Would and could manipulate James, getting him to kill for her. She would eventually die, potentially at the hands of John. The Hunger Games is what James would need to realise how much she didn’t love him, and that her living isn’t worth it. She would assume she could win because she’s a vampire and she wont die of natural causes like Franken Kyle would, but not knowing her own weakness is her biggest weakness, and ultimately cause of death.

22. Mary Eunice (Asylum) -Pre-possessed would die first because she’s a little bitch. After, would kill a lot of people and could manipulate Arden the same way The Countess does James. In fact, she would partner up with The Countess and together they would hunt people out. But when Arden and James kill The Countess, she joined their team fully.

23. Queenie (Coven) -Super powerful. Can kill without even getting close. But her weakness is how not sneaky she is. She would struggle to do all the survival things. Get food, find a place to sleep, climb trees or hide from people. But once she had one weapon, that’s pretty much all she needs. If somebody approaches her, she’d stab herself and kill them. She’d die being stabbed repeatedly in her sleep by Kai.

24. Robot Mair Mead (Apocalypse) -Needs obvious instructions, and when Michael died, she died with him. When she died, James and Arden would be fascinated by the way she works (since it’s not from their time) and try to make a robot Kyle since he’s useless not being a robot. They would take his dead body and dismembered Robot Mead parts and create the ultimate fighting champion, Robot Franken Kyle. Arden would kill Mary Eunice, allowing the Devil to enter Robot Franken Kyle, creating Demon Robot Franken Kyle. Unstoppable. The ultimate winner, after he goes ballistic and kills his creators, Arden and James, then anybody who’s left.

                                 OVERALL WINNERS BELOW GIF

6. James March. An experienced murderer. 5. Dr Arthur Arden. A brutal masochist. 4. Margaret Booth. A determined fighter. 3. Kai Anderson. An evil leader. 2. Michael Langdon. A possessed killer. 1. Kyle Spencer. Demon Robot Franken Kyle.

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

@milly-louise​  @kitwalker02​  @tatestripedsweater​  @therenlover​  @maria-akira​         @tatesimper​  @sallyscigarettes​  @mossybank​  @ahsxual​  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess​  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan​  @kitwalkerangel​  @kitsommers​  @blackbat2020​ @whiiiiplaaaaash​  @elaineygrace​ @divinerulerluvr​ @johndeaconshands​ @midnightstar-90​ @xmaximoffic @tatesweaterweather @undeadcortez​ @slightlyvicked​ @americxn​ @kaislittleheadliner @imjimmysdarling​  @kaiandersonluvr @fictional-men-that-i-stan @quickiesgirl​

#ahs #ahs fanfiction #LITERALLY EVERY CHARACTER EVER #ahs characters #evan peters #john lowe #ahs sally #i don't know what to tag #ahs 1984 #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs coven #ahs hotel #ahs roanoke #ahs freak show #ahs cult #ahs apocaylpse #ahs all freaking seasons #fuck #hunger games #american horror story #american horror story hunger games #ahs hunger games #the hunger games #tate langdon #james march #mr jingles #richard ramirez ahs #kyle spencer #franken kyle

[lexwritess]

incorrect quotes anon, i have a super angsty idea that i think you’ll LOVE. so basically michael x reader but she died at on of the outpost, and were basically the only good part about michael and him not caring about anything anymore (even more than usual lmao). and it’s just grief and sadness and anger. it’s fine if not, if you do i’d love to make incorrect quote for it also! have a great day/night!!!! ❤️❤️

broken promises [m.l.]

pairing: michael langdon x fem!reader

warnings: angst, death, swearing, blood, i don’t think this is accurate i tried to research on lilith but it was difficult but i liked the idea so this version of lilith is mostly based off the one from caos

a/n: i got a little carried away lmao

words: 1.6k

slightly au! i’m going to pretend michael can’t bring dead people back ✌️

y/n is a witch. but she’s a different kind of witch. she was born for a very specific purpose, one that she didn’t even understand yet. she knew she was different though.

she really knew she was different when her supreme, cordilia, tried to kill her.

she ran away from her sisters that night. she didn’t need cordilia to kill her. she already felt dead. defeated. the only real family she’s had wanted her dead.

that’s when she met michael.

michael despised all witches, but there was something about y/n that dragged him to her. the two of them were like magnets and they both felt it. the world always pulling them towards each other.

she met michael when he was at a loss. y/n wasn’t the only one cordilia hurt that day.

y/n found michael in the woods, he looked ill and lost.

y/n brought him to a dark church she saw a couple days prior. they found a woman there that was eager to help them back on their feet and get them well and nourished.

that was a big step for michael. after that visit michael finally got sense of himself. unfortunately, y/n still didn’t understand her purpose.

“i want to help michael, i really do but i don’t know what i’m suppose to do. you’re the antichrist! i’m just a rejected witch.” y/n tells michael gloomily.

tomorrow was a big day for him, he was getting back his ms. mead. of course y/n was happy for him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t need her anymore.

“you are so much more than that. you are more powerful than you think and you are a big help to me. and even if you don’t serve a purpose for the apocalypse i care about you and want you by my side.” michael looks into your eyes and grabs your hands.

that’s where y/n and michael shared their first kiss.

“can you help him or not.” you interrupt the two idiotic coke heads.

“oh. who’s this?” mutt said cockily.

“she’s a witch on my side. her coven tried to kill her. don’t get any ideas though she’s mine.” michael said protectively.

you can’t help but smirk to yourself.

“alright, sorry. please don’t light me on fire.” mutt says defensively.

this is the second time michaels been here. this time he decided to bring you along so maybe you could get an idea what to do next if jeff and mutt didn’t.

“do you have some special marking on you, or have demonic fire powers?” jeff asks you while mutt looks for something to help michael.

y/n shows him the upside down triangle that appeared on her wrist about a month ago.

“not going to lie, that’s kinda lame.” jeff says disappointed.

y/n gives the man a glare and with the wave of her hand the glass bowl of cocaine was now broken across the floor.

“WHAT THE FU-.” jeff yelled before mutt stepped in.

“we can worry about it later. look at the book of revelations. have you read it?” mutt asks.

michael looks at them before opening the book with his magic.

y/n flips through the book when michael is done looking for anything else.

“who is lilith?” y/n ask monotone.

“lilith is technically a witch. she was the wife of adam but refused to sleep with him. eventually she went and sided with the devil. the devil turned on her. lots of variations and stories of her. no ones quite totally sure.” jeff explains.

y/n looks at michael with a skeptical look on her face and he gives one back.

“holy shit, you’re totally lilith! but for the new world!” mutt exclaims.

y/n stands up and look down upon the two.

“how would you know?” y/n raised her eyebrows at them.

“you’re coven tried to kill you, you just so happen to be with the antichrist, the triangle on your arm...makes sense.” jeff says.

y/n stays still staring at them. they gulp under her gaze before she walks out of the room.

michael hurries after the girl, needing to know what’s on her mind.

“y/n, what is the matter dear?” michael asks, linking his pinky with hers.

“i do not want to be lilith.” y/n says strongly.

“if being lilith means i will lose you in the end i don’t want it!” she lets go of michaels pinky and storms off to the car.

“darling you will never lose me! i may have to follow my fathers plans to end this world, but i’m still in charge!” michael yells to y/n.

“promise me!” y/n yells back, finally walking towards micheal.

“promise me.” y/n repeats, this time her tone barley above a whisper.

“i promise.”

-

2 years later

present time

the apocalypse is here. the world is gone. hell is on earth.

and you’ve been by michaels side the whole time.

he kept his promise

and now you were standing in front of your ex-coven.

they were back to kill you, again.

“come back to finish the job?” you bitterly ask cordilia.

“i had no choice! you were made for evil, i was never going to be able to peel you away from him and you would always choose him over your sisters!” cordilia yells.

“well michael never tried to kill me like you did! you were the only family i had!” you yell back, tears brimming your eyes.

you furrow your brows trying to hear what cordilia was mumbling but before you realized it’s too late.

“ms mead!” michael cried.

cordilia had killed his ms mead again.

“fuck you!” you say angerly stepping closer to cordilia.

as you walk closer cordilia is pushed back by your magic, a trail of fire leading behind you.

“how are you doing that?” madison asks in shock.

“because i’m the new supreme.” you smirk.

cordilia laughs bitterly and you look back at her.

“you can never be the supreme. you are a demoness! you are and never will be a real witch!” cordilias words burn in your brain as the realization hits you.

“mallory.” you whisper to yourself.

“precisely.” cordilia smiles.

while michael was having his last moments with ms mead, in the corner of your eye you saw madison grab the machine gun and go to point it at michael.

“repellendum malum minitar, ut nobis!” you quickly shout the protection spell.

you repeat the spell and step closer to michael.

“tutela eorum vinculum!” cordilia starts chanting against your spell.

you repeat the spell but as she gets closer the sheild starts breaking.

“et defendat mea!” you shout louder. the shield starts breaking as the other witches join in on cordilias chants.

“amans vitae meae praesidium.” you say quietly before the shield breaks.

bullets shoot throughout the room before your bloody body slumps against the wall. you feel awful, they shot you enough to make you weak so you can’t heal, but strong enough to let you bleed out.

“y/n?” michael says quietly, before he is shot as well.

myrtle cuts a piece of michaels hair and walks back to mallory.

“hurry mallory, before he heals.” cordilia rushes, and the witches leave the room.

michael wakes and looks over to see y/n’s bloody body.

“y/n! no, no, no!” michael lifts you up so he can hold you.

“michael you have to listen to me.” you cough, as the metallic taste fills your mouth.

“i can save you, i know father can. just stay with me a little longer.” michael pleads.

you smile at him and shake your head.

“listen, don’t kill cordilia. i’m not the supreme it’s mallory. she will go back and kill you in a past timeline, so none of this will never happen.”

“i have to! look what they did to you!” tears fall from his face.

“michael baby, i’ll be okay. i’ll be okay, but you got to make sure you don’t kill cordilia. it’ll bring mallory’s powers to full strength.” you assure him.

michael shakes his head as more tears fall from his crystal blue eyes.

“i love you, i love you so much. i’ll be with you soon.” michael squeezes your hand.

“i love you too michael, so much.” you let out a shaky sigh and squeeze his hand back.

“goodbye michael.” you smile as your eyes start to close.

“no, don’t say goodbye! baby please open your eyes again.” michael weeps.

“fuck! i wasn’t suppose to lose you. i wasn’t suppose to leave you, i fucking promised!” michael screams, while his sobs continue.

“it’s too late langdon.” cordilias chill voice fills michaels ears.

michaels sadness quickly turns to anger as he turns around to see the bitches smug face.

“you killed the love of my life!” michael shrieks.

cordilia hums and stares back at michael before waving the knife out of his hand into hers.

before michael can do or say anything cordilia rams the knife into her chest.

michael is at a loss for words.

he have lost

“no!” he screamed as cordilia fell to her death.

“no.” he repeated while falling to his knees.

he puts his face in his hands and starts sobbing.

he has lost everyone and now he lost the war.

he lost everything because of a job he never asked to have.

“poor michael.” myrtal said quietly while walking over to him.

“please! please just kill me.” michael says defeated.

“you’re the antichrist at his full form. i’m afraid killing you is impossible. you’ll have to live knowing you’ll never have her again.” myrtal says while waking away.

michaels cries continue.

he’ll never see you again.

you’ll never see him again.

in the new timeline he doesn’t exist to you and never will.

that’s what truly killed him.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #cody fern #cody fern x reader #micheal langdon #micheal langdon x reader #fanfic #angst #ahs angst #michael langdon smut #michael langdon angst

[rainbowxmisa]

Could she be... What I've always been waiting for?

Michael Langdon has been a lot of things in his short life; a special boy, the chosen one, a delinquent, a warlock, the alfa, the supreme, the antichrist... But what he believed the most, is that he always has been a monster. Or at least, that's what everyone had made him believe his entire life.

When he arrived at the outpost 3, he still believed it. He was received with a lot of different glances; glances of fear, glances of curiosity, glances of malice… but when he looked at her, he saw a glance full of something entirely different from what he was used to; it was a glance full of kindness. And he wondered why he felt that she was so different from the rest of them.

From that moment, he started to feel curiosity towards her.

It was like she belonged to a different place, but at the same time, it was like she felt at total peace with her surroundings. Everyone at the outpost 3 was dying to get out of there as soon as possible; but on the other hand, she seemed comfortable where she was. Everyone was trying to please him to get a place at the Sanctuary, but not her.

At some point, he started to feel like some sort of magnetism towards her. It was like the universe was trying to tell him to get closer to her; to know her better. And he was happy to oblige.

They shared gazes in the corridors, always accompanied by a sweet smile from her, but it was on his second night at the outpost 3 when he finally chose to approach her. She was playing the piano, lost on that world that looked so entirely hers. He decided to sit on the stairs rather than the sofas to listen to the melancholic tune she was playing, not wanting to disturb her. He observed her, trying to understand why his chest felt so tight every time he glanced at her.

When the song was over and she was about to stand up, she noticed that she wasn’t alone. Her gaze found Michael and she smiled softly.

“Did I wake you up?” she asked concerned.

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about that. I was already awake.” he answered. “Can you play that song again?” Michael asked, approaching her.

“Of course.”

She started playing the tune once more, carefully, like she wanted to slow time with the music, and then, she was lost in her world again. With her eyes closed, she let her fingers roam the keys like they were a second skin for her.

Michael basked on her beauty; on the peace and tranquility she radiated. And in that moment, he wished that his life could be just like that; full of peace… just the two of them.

She played the last part of the song opening her eyes and looking at Michael, always with that sweet smile of hers.

“How’s the song called?” asked Michael.

“I love you.” she answered, making Michael’s heart drum on his ribcage like a thunder.

“Excuse me?” he asked confused.

“That’s the title of the song, ‘I love you’.” she said with a shy smile.

For a moment, Michael thought she was saying that she loved him, and for some reason, he liked the idea.

“Why aren’t you sleeping like everybody else?” asked him, trying to change the topic.

“I like the quiet of the night, even though you can’t know when it’s day and when it’s night inside here.” she said, smiling brightly.

That made him smile. And smiling with so ease was something he wasn’t used to.

He wanted her to rest, but at the same time, he wanted to know her better, and this was the perfect occasion.

“It seems like you don’t like to be surrounded by the rest of the people of the outpost.” he observed.

“I tolerate most of them, I think. But I’ve always liked to be on my own.” she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

Michael related to that, and he understood why she wanted to be on her own in a place like this.

“Then I understand why you roam the outpost like a vampire.” he said with a sided smile, trying to joke a little.

That made her laugh; and with that beautiful and jovial laugh, his heart started to beat faster and faster. He swore his heart never felt more alive until he met her.

“I like vampires, so I won’t complain about that.” she stated proudly.

Michael liked that she was so open with him, like she didn’t fear him like the rest of the outpost. She was like a ray of sunshine, even though he could feel that there was dark inside her, too.

“What else do you like?” he asked with curiosity.

“That’s a tricky question, because I like a lot of things. But I suppose there’s little left of what I used to like, except for one thing: books!” she claimed extending her arms to the big bookshelves that surrounded them.

“Then lucky you to have so many books to read. What books do you enjoy the most?” he was starting to feel that connection towards her growing and growing with each passing second.

“Hmm, I suppose any book with an interesting plot is more than enough for me.” she answered, pursing her lips.

“May I make you a recommendation?” he asked, approaching one of the bookshelves.

“Of course!”

He roamed one by one all of the bookshelves until he found the book he was looking for. He remembered each one of these books like his own hand; he was fond of the memory of this place when it was a school for gifted youngsters. He approached her again and gave her the book in question.

“I really enjoyed reading this book years ago, and I hope you will enjoy it, too.” he said with a little smile.

“What is this book about?” she asked, touching the cover with tenderness.

“Since you like vampires, I thought you may like this story. It’s a story of a vampire falling in love with a human. I don’t want to say too much, but it has a lot of romance and drama.” he explained.

“Sounds interesting, I like it already! I really can’t wait to start reading it, thank you, Mr. Langdon.” she said sincerely.

“You can call me Michael.” he stated.

“Then, thank you, Michael.” she said with a bright smile, embracing the book, and without knowing it; a piece of Michael’s heart, too, making him feel less like a monster.

On his third night at the outpost 3, Michael went back to the library in search of her, knowing very well he’ll find her there. And he wasn’t wrong. There she was in one of the sofas by the fireplace, reading the book he recommended to her.

“Are you enjoying the book?” he asked softly, sitting right by her side.

“I’ve been reading it for hours, I’m loving it!!” she exclaimed with joy.

“I’m glad to hear that.” he answered, proud of himself.

“It’s a beautiful story, but it’s so sad…” she said, looking to him so intensely that he felt her gaze on his very soul.

“What is so sad?” he asked, approaching her a little bit more, enjoying that intimate moment between them.

“That their love is condemned to death. Everyone sees the vampire like a monster, like a beast incapable of love. But they’re wrong. He is capable of love, he’s nothing but a good and caring lover to his future wife.” she explained, her words full of passion and anger.

Michael felt his heart ache with desire and longing. He wished intensely for her to see him like the vampire of the story; someone worthy of love.

“And what do you want to happen at the end?” he asked.

“That they could have a happy life, to prove everyone wrong.” she said with conviction.

Michael knew the end of the story, and he knew she was gonna be upset with it.

“Then better you keep reading it.” he said, feeling a little bit bold and opening his arms so she could be more comfortable reading. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to cuddle a little bit with her.

Hearing her little sobs, he knew she was about to end the book.

“What's the matter?” he asked concerned.

“I can’t keep reading it.” she answered in tears.

“Why not?” he asked, rubbing her arm with tenderness.

“Because my heart hurts.” she explained with grief.

“I told you it was a drama, too. Do you want me to read to you the end?”

“Yes.” she answered, wiping away her tears and passing to him the book.

She cuddled more into him, trying to search more comfort.

Michael started reading with a soothing voice, feeling the quiet sobs of hers in his shoulder where she was hiding her face.

“The end.” he stated softly when he arrived at the end of the story.

“It’s so unfair.” she said so mad at the book.

“It is.” conceded Michael.

“Why couldn't they be happy? Why was it such a crime to fall in love with a vampire? The monster of the story isn't the vampire, it's the people that killed his wife just because they couldn't understand their love.” she said full of rage.

“I guess not everyone has a good heart like you to see that.” he said, caressing her cheek, feeling again his chest tight at the sight of her crying with her heart broken.

“Why everyone is so scared of you?” she asked suddenly, touching the hand that was caressing her cheek, looking right into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he thought that this was the moment where everything ended; where she finally discovered the monster he was.

“Everyone after their interviews said you were evil, that something was wrong with you. But when I look at you, the only thing I see is someone, that like the vampire of this story, was misunderstood. Someone capable of love, wanting desperately to reach to that light buried inside of him.” she explained, approaching their faces a little bit more.

“And why aren’t you scared of me, too?” he asked, feeling their lips just millimeters apart, wishing she truly meant what she just said.

“Because since the first moment I arrived to this place, I knew I was meant to die, but after meeting you, at least I can do it knowing that you always treated me with kindness, and that I never saw the monster all of them talk about.” she explained with a smile.

Kindness. That was just what he felt about her the first time their glances met. And he really wanted to believe her.

“You’re not gonna die. Okay?” he assured her.

“And why are you so sure about that?” she asked.

“Because you’re coming to the Sanctuary with me.” he stated.

“But you still didn’t interview me.” she said confused.

“Do you think I need an interview to know I want to spend the rest of my life with you?” Michael asked, with their lips impossibly close.

“I don’t know, maybe you needed to know me more before.” she said, trying not to smile.

“We’ll have plenty of time in the Sanctuary to know each other more.” he said, joining finally their lips on a much desired kiss; a sweet kiss full of love and yearning.

After they lost the count of the kisses they shared, she started to feel a little bit sleepy. Michael carried her in his arms to his room. After undressing and getting into the bed, Michael refused to sleep. He used the time to caress her arm and her face with delicacy, basking once more in her ethereal beauty. Tomorrow will be Halloween, and after his plan will triunfaly work, they’ll have the rest of their lives to share in the Sanctuary, finding that peace that he desperately wanted. But not the light though, because the light he always searched inside of him, was lying just beside him.

She was the reason that made him truly believe he wasn’t a monster all along.

He was worthy of love; worthy of her love.

For the one's wondering what song was the Reader playing on the piano, is this one: 'I love you' by RIOPY I was highly inspired by this clip of Skam France where Lucas plays the same song: SKAM FRANCE EP.2 S3: Vendredi 19h34 - Surprenant

I really hope you all enjoyed this sweet and self indulgent story. Michael always deserved better :)

You can also read this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30491691

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon headcanon #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs apocolaypse #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story #ahs #fanfic #fanfiction #romance #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #love at first sight #michael langdon fluff #outpost michael #outpost michael langdon #misa abadeer

[wroteclassicaly]

Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

:)

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

#andy dolan fanfiction #andy dolan fic #andy dolan x you #andy dolan x reader #andy dolan #eden fanfiction #eden #kristenwrites

[lavenderahs]

ミ˖ michael langdon comforting you on a sad rainy day

y/n pov

word count - 557

I sit in my bed room, knees to my chest, as I watch the rain out my window; just one of those days again. my number of bad days are increasing week by week, even though I'm medicated & go to therapy, yet my mental illness still takes over me. I haven't showered in maybe 3 days, nor changed out of my sweats and big t-shirt. my appetite has been limited but I'm still making it. the only joy in my life is my boyfriend; my shoulder to lean on. michael is a introverted romantic; can be cold to some, but loving to me. he's always here for me, he's just a text away, but I feel like a burden on him; he's never given me signs, but my anxiety tells me so. an hour goes by and I decide to give him a call.

his soft voice comes through my speaker after the 2nd ring. "hey darling" he says sweetly, "hey, are you busy" "y/n I'm never too busy to talk to you" "well when you get time, could you come over, I'm not doing good" in his next sentence I hear the concern in his voice "y-yeah of course, itll be an hour but I'll be here, just breathe okay?" "okay hun" I breathe. "I love you, I'll be here before you know it" he says as i respond with a i love you too, the call hangs up.

I awake to the sound of foot steps and the faucet running. without thinking much, i take quiet steps around the corner. I spot michael pouring a pink bubble bath into my tub, with a towel laid out, and a bowl of fruit. he turns around and says with a smile "hey sleepy head, I was just about to get you." I stare in awe, my eyes puffy and tired from the past couple days. "michael, you do too much for me" I say as I walk into my pampered bathroom. "shhhhh, you're not doing good, and it's my job to make you feel better" he says as he helps me undress and step me into the warm bath. the warm water eases my tension, and the smell of roses calms my headache. michael reaches for my shampoo bottle and bowl of fruit "eat this and I'm gonna wash your hair okay?" the fruit fulfilling the nutrients I've lacked, and Michaels gentle hands washing my scalp puts me in total relaxation. michael sits with me as I calm down. telling me about his day, asking me about what I want to eat tonight and how we should spend our evening. Michael helps rinse the bubbles off me as I wrap myself in a warm towel; he then dries my hair with another. "here, put these on" he hands me a clean pair of sweats, cotton panties and one of his t-shirts. I dress into my fresh clothes; feeling so loved. he carries me wedding style into my bedroom. he lays me down and we both snuggle into my comforter. he wraps his arm around me and gives me a soft kiss. "I love you darling" he says sweetly. "I love you too Michael" I say as I drift asleep in his arms.

-

a/n - just a quick lil imagine for you guys :) I haven't been doing so well so writing this definitely helped me cope a bit.

#american horror story #ahs #cody fern #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #xavier plympton #ahs 1984 #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon supremacy #ahs fandom #ahs fanfiction #cody fern x reader #cody fern characters #cody fern fandom

[ahsbitch]

The Grey-Outpost!Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 5143

Summary: So I got this message for my prompts and it was supposed to just be a blurb like the others but it was already getting way too long and then I realized it would fit really well with a oneshot idea I had a month or two ago sooo here we are

Warnings: so many, nsfw, smut, virginity loss, first time, first orgasm, actually first three lmao, fingering, choking, Mean!Michael, slapping, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, brief blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding kink, a little bit of corset kink, some cockwarming bc it’s me, very Sub!Reader, also overly nice reader which probably doesn’t need a warning but I’m putting it anyway, , mentions of violence, some waxing poetic bc again that’s just me, floor licking, some?underwear stuff? Idk man, did I mention swearing bc that’s here too, idk, that’s all I can think of but my brain is not entirely focused so if I missed something I’m sorry

A/N: I’m sorry I’m like this but I hope it’s okay. Comments are always appreciated! Even just in the tags of a reblog! Or a message! Or anything! Hearing your reactions makes me feel so good!

Mini Tag List: @wroteclassicaly​ @michaellangdonstanaccount​ @guiltyfiend​

@angelicmichael​

(i actually don’t remember if all of you asked to be tagged in stuff or not so if you didn’t i’m really sorry i just thought i’d put a few people, if you want me to...Not tag you in stuff that’s totally cool and i totally get it just let me know, if you do want me to tag you in stuff also let me know on that front) 

You confused Michael Langdon. 

It wasn’t intentional, he was sure, but he was not used to being confused by the behavior of humans.

You also annoyed him, although that was less surprising. 

Most people annoyed him. 

But you annoyed him for the same reason that you confused him, and that just made him all the more confused and annoyed and annoyed and confused. 

How the hell were you so nice? 

You treated everyone who crossed your path with such kindness, even though most of them treated you like you were dog shit on the bottom of their shoe. And you simply...smiled? Nodded? Did as they said, if they gave an order, or ignored them if it was just words. 

He had never even seen you complain about your servant status, never seen you look at the drab grey of your dress with even an ounce of disdain. 

He’d taken to reading your thoughts, even more than he did with the others, trying to find the cruelty hidden inside you. 

Once, one of the Purples whose name Michael hadn’t bothered to learn had walked into a ladder that you were standing on for some job or another, and you had fallen to the ground, landing hard on your back. The Purple had cursed at you for getting in his way, and you apologized instantly. 

What an asshole, You had thought, and Michael had started to get excited, but a moment later you had shaken your head at yourself, and your thoughts continued, No, Y/N, don’t be unfair. They live a different type of life here. It’s not his fault that he sees me like this at this point, he’s practically been indoctrinated.

What utter bullshit that was, and yet you’d seemed completely contented with that thought, climbing back onto the ladder to finish your task. 

Another time he had walked in on you being beaten while Venable watching, smirking. He had simply stared for a while, watching the way you took your blows. 

“What’s going on?” Michael had asked, blood boiling at Venable’s smug expression. 

“A reminder. She’s been a bit slow in her work lately. Distracted, I think, with your proposal of paradise. She needed to remember her place.” 

He had nodded, turning back to observe you, listening for your reaction to those words. 

I haven’t been slower, though. She’s just been angrier. Poor Ms. Venable, she must be scared. I wish she wouldn’t take it out on me, Your stream of thought had paused as you let out a cry of pain, But I hope that she’ll find some type of peace. 

In interviews, Michael had started to ask about you. 

“She’s nice,” Gallant had said rather dismissively, “That’s about it. Not memorable. I don’t think anyone would miss her.” 

“She helps everyone finish their work, even though she has her own,” Another Grey had said, tilting his head to the side in thought, “I saw her take a beating in Mallory’s place once for a broken lamp. I don’t think that’s the only time she’s done that, either. She’s a little too sweet, almost. It can’t be real, can it?”

That was Michael’s thought too, but you were that sweet, or so it seemed. 

He’d begun instructing everyone during their interviews to either completely ignore you or be cruel to you, to treat you with extra disdain, to not bother with respect. He’d told Purples and Greys alike, had watched out to see them following his orders. They were doing it, and you were slowly becoming more and more alone,and yet you never so much as thought anything cruel in return. From time to time, a nasty thought would pop into your head, but you always brushed it away almost instantly, scolding yourself into something overly forgiving of their behavior. Still, you were lonelier than ever, and that meant that it would be all the easier to draw you to him. 

Your interview was the last one that was scheduled, and with every moment that led up to it he found himself getting more and more ready to break you down, and every time he thought of that he found his cock getting harder and harder. 

He was going to ruin you, in more ways than one. 

And then the interview had started, you sitting in your chair with your hands folded neatly in your lap, steadfastly avoiding eye contact with him, a polite smile on your face, and something had snapped deep inside him. 

He wasn’t sure what did it. Maybe it was your answer to why you should be taken to the Sanctuary. 

“I don’t know that I should,” You’d said simply, your damned respectful smile never wavering, “I mean, it would be nice. But I’m not particularly special, right? And if the Sanctuary is meant to be people carrying on the human race, shouldn’t it be the people who are going to make the biggest difference? I know you said that what I thought i was weakness could be my saving, and I get that, I just don’t know if I have any particular weaknesses or any particular saving graces. If you need someone to wash floors or cook in the Sanctuary, then yeah, I’m pretty good at those things. You might want me. But I don’t know that I have any particular talents or powers that would make me more useful than anyone else.” 

Maybe it was what you had said when he’d asked about your anger, about whether or not you would get revenge on any of the others for the way they’d treated you, if you got the chance.

You shrugged, taking a few moments to think about your answer before you spoke, “No. I don’t blame them for it, not really. The world ended. The fact that any of us are alive is strange enough as it is. Them being cruel is probably more of a defense mechanism than anything else. I wish they wouldn’t use me for their anger, or their disdain, or their sadness, I kinda wish they’d just leave me alone sometimes, but I wouldn’t want to get revenge even if I got the chance. I don’t think they deserve to be treated badly, even if they’ve treated me badly.” 

But most likely, it had been your answer when he’d asked what exactly you were thinking about right in that moment. 

“The end of the world, Mr. Langdon, sir,” Your smile finally dropped for just a moment, your embarrassment evident, “And your eyes. They’re very beautiful. I was thinking that heaven probably isn’t real, but if it is, it probably looks something like your eyes. But of course it’s much more likely that hell is real, based on recent events, in which case it probably looks something like the world we live in right now.” 

Michael had stood, instructing you to do the same, and within moments his lips were on yours. 

Yes, he was going to ruin you in every way possible. 

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

This was so totally not how you had planned for your interview to go. 

Was it how Langdon had planned for it to go? Maybe. You wondered vacantly if this had happened with all of his other interviews, if all of them had found themselves lying on the floor, pinned underneath him, feeling him hungrily devouring their mouths in perhaps the best kiss that anyone had ever experienced. 

He trailed kisses down to your throat, hot, open mouthed, that you felt even though they were over the high collar of your dress, and he bit down hard, sucking harshly through the fabric. 

“Fuck!” You groaned out, feeling your skin go hot with embarrassment over the noises you were making. 

“Don’t hold back, pet,” He moved his mouth to your ear, kissing the spot just behind your earlobe as he murmured, “You make the most delightful little noises.” 

This served only to embarrass you more, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek to try and hide the moans that threatened to spill from you. 

Langdon’s hand made its way to your neck, squeezing at it as he pulled your head up closer to his, and you let out a pained whine at the pressure his palm put onto the sore spot he had just left on your throat, “Did you not hear me? Don’t hold back. I expect you to follow my orders. I’d think you’d be used to that by now.” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” You let out a strangled cry, and with a sharp smile he finally released you, letting your head drop back against the floor. 

“Next time you don’t listen to me, you will be,” He chuckled at your terrified expression, but after a moment he froze, raising a curious eyebrow at you, “What are you thinking about right now?” 

You weren’t naive enough to think that he actually cared about how you were feeling, but you answered anyway, scared of what may happen if you didn’t, “Honestly? I’m trying to decide if I’m more likely to be murdered by you or by Ms. Venable.” 

Langdon laughed again, moving off of you and leaning against the wall. He looked oddly comfortable like that, although you wouldn’t be surprised if his outfit cost more than the entire Outpost, and with a wolfish grin he patted his lap gently. 

You frowned, unsure of what that meant, but Langdon simply rolled his eyes and wrapped a hand around your wrist, tugging you into his lap. 

This was… odd.

After a moment, he gripped both of your wrists, raising your arms up and placing them on his shoulders, and you locked your fingers around the back of his neck, staring dumbly at him as you did so. 

His legs extended straight out, but he held you steady in his lap, arm wrapped your hips, your own legs perpendicular to his. 

This was very odd. 

“Now tell me,” It was interesting, the way Langdon’s words sounded more like a purr, “Why do you think that I would kill you?” 

Shyly you dropped your gaze, but then his hand was under your chin, lifting until you looked him in the eye, and you shrugged, “I mean… you said you would. It was like the first thing you told me when I came in. That if I lied or hedged or anything like that you’d...y’know...obliterate me.” 

“And have you lied to me?” His voice was sharp now, his eyes dangerous, although something playful still danced around the edges of his lips. 

“No!” You flinched, prepared for him to hit you even though he made no movement to do so, and after a minute, after you’d realized that no strike was coming, you blinked at him, “I, uh, no, sir. But you’re, well, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Langdon, but you’re very intimidating.” 

He was frowning now, just a little, and you probably wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t been so fascinated by his mouth, “I’m glad you find me intimidating. I’d be a bit concerned for your sanity if you didn’t. But I have no plans at the moment to kill you, and as long as you keep telling me the truth like this, I doubt it’ll arise. Now, why would Venable kill you?” 

“She’s strict about her rules,” You felt your face heating up again, “No sexual contact of any kind. And we, y’know, we kissed. If she finds out, well, she’d even kill a Purple for breaking the rules so explicitly like that. She’d kill a Grey for a lot less.” 

“And we’ll be doing a lot more,” Langdon’s smooth voice echoed in your ears, and you shivered slightly at the insinuation, “Venable will not touch you.”

“Why not?” Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked before you could think about the fact that it was probably a bad idea. 

Luckily, Langdon did nothing more than chuckle at you again, shifting slightly underneath you, “Because if anyone here is going to harm you, pet, it’s going to be me.” 

For some reason, his words made you clench your thighs, and you swallowed to avoid letting out a whine. 

“Yes sir,” You said softly, and then, when he’d started pressing kisses along your jaw, “There’s one more thing.” 

“And what would that be?” 

Clearing your throat, you fought to keep holding eye contact with him, “I don’t, I mean, I don’t want to be one of those people who fucks someone to get something. I don’t want to sleep with you just in hopes of going to the Sanctuary, especially because you could easily say you’re going to take me until after we’re done and then tell me you’ve changed your mind or something. I don’t want that. I’d rather you just... tell me the truth now.” 

“Alright,” Sighing, Langdon straightened up a little, shifting beneath you again so that you suddenly became aware of his erection pressing into you, “You’re not going to the Sanctuary, Y/N. Not even if we fuck. And we are going to fuck, you understand that, right?” 

“Yes sir,” You felt your gaze drop to his lips once more, “I understand. The Sanctuary thing and the fucking thing. May I please kiss you again?” 

“Not only may you do so, but I insist that you do,” His voice was cold now, but one look into his eyes showed you that he was pleased about this, and you frantically brought your mouth to his. 

Langdon slammed you back to the ground, and your head cracked loudly against the marble floor, making you feel a bit dizzy, and then his fingers found their way between the buttons of your dress and he pulled sharply, ripping it in half, and that made you feel even dizzier.

Holy fuck, how strong was he? 

“Lovely,” He murmured, his mouth running over your collarbones and up the curves of your neck, sucking dark bruises onto your skin as he went, “Don’t forget what I told you. I want to hear every single one of your sounds, understood?”

“Yes sir,” Your hands made their way to his hair almost of their own accord as he continued on, mouth drifting down to swirl over your covered nipples. 

“Turn around,” Langdon commanded, and he hummed his approval when you followed his instructions in merely a moment, kneeling before him but facing the wall. 

His long fingers made their way to the ties of your corset, beginning to work on the knot, and he frowned, “This is tied very tightly, pet. Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“I had Mallory tie it extra tightly for me, so I would have something to focus on other than my nerves for the interview,” You let out a hiss of relief as the corset came untied, “It wouldn’t hurt much, but you’re supposed to wear something under a corset, and Ms. Venable doesn’t give the Greys anything to wear under our corsets because she says our comfort isn’t a priority. So it kinda digs into my-ow, fuck, my skin.”

Your cry of distress had come when Langdon’s hands had pressed hard into the red marks that marred your back from your corset. 

“It really has done a number on you,” He helped you unclasp the front of your corset and slip it off, before bringing his hands to your hips, “Get on all fours.” 

You did as he said, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do so, but you understood a moment later when the wet warmth of his tongue began to stroke along your spine. He licked along each mark that had been left behind, leaving a trail of coolness to follow, and although it stung with each moment of contact, it left some relief as he went. You mewled at the feeling, back arching towards him, desperate for more. 

“Feel better?” He purred, now drawing his nose around your spine.

“Yes,” You sighed pleasantly, “Thank-fuck!”

Langdon had shifted his arms so that one ran under your stomach, holding you in place, and with the other he brought his palm down on your back with all his strength. 

Tears were starting to spill from your eyes, leaving a puddle on the floor as he struck you four more times in quick, painful succession. 

“Aw, does it hurt, pet?” He was cooing at you, voice light and mocking, “Look at you. You’ve made a mess on my floor. Clean that up for me, yes?” 

Unsure of what that meant, you tried to look back at him to ask, but Langdon wrapped his hand around your neck and forced your head to the floor, his entire body pressed against yours, “Clean it up.” 

Hesitantly, you reached your tongue out to the floor, scooping the salty moisture up carefully. The pressure on your throat lightened up so that you could breathe more easily, but he didn’t remove his hand, and you frantically licked the rest of your tears off of the floor. 

Letting you sit up, he smirked at your shy smile, examining the floor carefully before praising you, “Wonderful job, pet. But it appears that the mess on the floor isn’t your only one. You seem to have made quite a mess down here as well.”

With that his hand cupped your pussy over your panties, which had become thoroughly soaked through. He pulled them down slowly, a rumble rolling past his lips at the sound the fabric made as it tried to cling to your damp flesh. He gave a tug and ripped them off of your thighs, bringing the shredded remains up to his face to examine it closely. Staring into your eyes, he poked his tongue out of his mouth and brought it to the fabric, laving slowly over the wetness that coated it. You moaned loudly at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. 

When Langdon was satisfied that he had gotten every drop of your essence off of the scraps of your underwear he tossed them carelessly in the direction of his desk, and then his tongue was on you once again, this time drawing painfully slow stripes from your knee up your inner thigh, ending just at your hip bone. 

“Did you like watching me?” There was amusement in his voice, a kind of mirth that could almost be mistaken for warmth, as he licked closer and closer to where you wanted him most, never deigning to touch you there, “Did it make you even more wet for me? Do you want me to eat your pretty little pussy until you can’t walk? Want me to let you drench my face?” 

“Please, yes, please!” You keened towards him and Langdon clamped his hands onto your thighs to hold you in place, bringing his thumbs down to spread your pussy lips open. There was something so intimately dirty about it that you let out another long moan, his breath fanning hot air against your folds, “Langdon, please, I’ll do anything you ask.”

He scoffed, nuzzling his nose over your entrance, “You’d do anything I asked anyway. But I will say, you have just about the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen. And you smell divine, pet.” 

Whimpering, you tried to rut up to his mouth, wanting so badly to feel him against you, “Please, sir, Langdon, please, what do I have to do for you to touch me?” 

At those words, Langdon moved away from you completely, now not even letting his fingers drift over your skin, “Was I not touching you before? You’re incredibly ungrateful for someone who I could kill with less than the blink of an eye.” 

“I’m sorry,” You scrabbled to your knees, legs shaking, “I’m sorry, Mr. Langdon, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I’m so grateful to you, I am, I’m sorry.” 

“As you should be,” He sneered, but the bulge in his pants looked even larger than it had before, and the corners of his lips twitched up, “You do look very good on your knees for me. I think this is the position you’re meant to be in, the reason you were put on this earth. Why else would you look so lovely like this, look like such a pretty little slut? Open your mouth for me, pet.” 

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Eagerly, you complied, wrenching your mouth as wide open as you could, desperate to please him. Langdon unzipped his dress pants, reaching into his boxers and stroking himself, letting out a deep and rumbly groan as he finally pulled himself out. 

His cock was... beautiful? You hadn’t expected to find it so beautiful. The few dicks you had seen you had mostly found odd, fine enough but not particularly nice to look at, but Langdon’s looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo himself. 

It was also huge, as thick as your wrist and at least as long as your forearm, the tip a throbbing angry crimson. It was veiny, and you would’ve expected that to be strange but it just made it even prettier, an extra long and thick vein running up the side that oddly made your mouth water. 

A fresh wave of desire pulsed through you, but that didn’t stop your worry as he approached you, speaking your anxiety out loud, “Is that... I mean, is that going to fit?” 

Chuckling, Langdon pushed himself into your mouth with no warning, holding the back of your head with one hand as he began an intense, bruising pace, “What’s the matter, little whore? Never been with someone this big?”

That’s one way to put it. 

He froze suddenly, buried down your throat, his pelvic bone pressed against your nose, and slowly he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, “Wait, you’re a virgin?”

You nodded slowly, and Langdon hissed at the movement, slowly pulling himself away from you, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You didn’t ask,” You shrugged, bringing a hand up to massage your jaw, “I didn’t think it would matter, I’m sorry. Does it change things?” 

Langdon gripped your hair, and he pulled you to your feet and into a bruising kiss all in one swift movement. Then his hands were all over you, stroking your skin fervently as he led you to his chair, sitting down and pulling you into his lap once more. The feeling of his dress pants against your bare skin was sinfully lovely, and you were suddenly aware of how exposed you were, when you could see almost nothing of him. 

After what felt like hours, he pulled away from you, his eyes dancing with something deeply dangerous, a brilliant smile on his face, “Of course it matters, pet I wouldn’t have even considered wasting any of my cum in your mouth if I knew your perfect cunt was untouched, waiting for me.” 

You let out a cry as he grabbed onto your hips tightly, beginning to draw you up and down over his length. His cock pressed into your folds, rubbing your clit, and every time he approached your entrance you gasped, “Holy, oh my, fuck, that feels good, Langdon I-”

“Michael,” He interrupted, moving you faster. 

“What?” You blinked up at him in confusion, and he felt his cock twitch at the sight.

“My name is Michael Langdon,” He pressed a kiss to your neck, beginning to suck a new line of hickeys, “You can call me Michael.” 

“Michael,” You sighed, clenching around nothing as a strange sensation started to boil in your stomach, something so pleasureful that you didn’t know what was happening, “Oh, fuck, Michael, you feel so good, please, can’t you just fuck me?” 

“Oh believe me, I’m going to,” His cock was twitching even more now, your name so perfect from his mouth, “But you have to be ready for it first. Come on, pet, come for me, just like this.” 

You mewled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the boiling in your stomach became more, became overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you let out a desperate shriek. 

“I didn’t, oh fuck, oh god, I didn’t know it would feel that good,” You panted, and Michael raised an eyebrow at you yet again as you buried your face in his shoulder. 

“Have you... have you never had an orgasm before?” 

You shook your head against him, letting out another gasp as one of his fingers started to toy around your entrance, “No, I haven’t. I mean, I thought I might have once, but it was nothing like that.”

“Have you ever had any fingers inside you?” He asked, even as he was already easing a finger into you, giving your walls a single stroke before he pushed two more in. 

“No!” You shrieked, the foreign sensation making you buck your hips wildly, “I, I mean, no, I haven’t.” 

Cock throbbing harder than ever before, Michael began to scissor his fingers around, stretching you out, “Fascinating. My little whore is so inexperienced.”

Moaning at his words, you lurched when his middle finger hit a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, “M-m-Michael, please!”

“M-m-Michael! M-m-Michael!” He mocked you, scooping the hand that wasn’t busy working you open under your ass, shifting out of the seat and lowering you to the ground, his mouth finding its way to your tits, “Wait, pet. Be a patient slut for me and you’ll be rewarded.” 

You nodded as he bit your nipple, toying with it roughly before kissing over to the other side, “Sorry, sorry, oh holy fuck that feels good.” 

Another orgasm was forming deep within you, more mewls leaving your throat as you desperately started to claw at his back, “Michael, fuck, Michael, I’m going to-”

“Good girl,” He purred, pulling his fingers out of you just as you started to cum, and then he slammed his cock into you with no warning, delighting in the bloodcurdling scream that you let out, letting out a guttural moan, “You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Desperate little slut, you were so ready for me to stretch you out, huh?”

“Wait, Michael,” You let out a sob, your cunt pulsing with overstimulation, “Michael, it’s too much, it hurts, please.” 

He was completely bottomed out in you, not moving yet, but he brought both hands up to wrap around your throat, cutting off all of your air, “Now now, pet, that’s no way to thank me for being so kind to you. You’ve cum twice now, haven’t you? And have I gotten to cum even once? No. Now, are you going to be good for me?” 

You nodded fervently, and he released you, leaving you gasping, “Sorry, sorry, Michael. I’m sorry.” 

“Good,” Michael started to pull out of you ever so slowly, moving at a glacial pace until just his tip was inside of you before thrusting in again, filling you up once more, “Oh, you feel good. Your pussy is fluttering all around me. But I should tell you, Y/N, I lied to you.” 

You let out another shaky sob as he hooked his hands under your knees and stretched your legs up, throwing them over his shoulders, continuing his pace of slow drags out followed by impossibly fast thrusts in, your hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth silk that covered his back, “Wh-what? What do you mean?” 

“I told you I wasn’t going to take you to the Sanctuary,” He grunted, his pace getting somehow even slower, in and out both, your slapping skin making loud, lewd noises, “I lied. I am. I’m going to pump you full of my cum, pet, until you’re overflowing with me. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and then we’re going to rule over the new world, together.” 

“I don’t understand,” Shrieking again, a whine bubbling out of your throat, you gasped as his hands moved to your tits once more, “Please, Michael, please can you go faster?”

It still hurt, but it was getting better, the pain being overrun with the pleasure. 

Michael complied, slamming into you, setting such a brutal, bruising pace that you were sure you could feel him all the way up in your stomach, “That’s my good little pet. Look at this, your pussy is devouring me. I’m going to wreck you, gonna mold your pussy around my dick so that you know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel good. Your perfect little pussy was made for me, and me alone. You were made for me. Your pussy, your ass, your mouth, these perfect tits,” He gave your breasts a harsh squeeze, running his thumbs over your nipples as you let out another scream, “They’re gonna be full of milk before you know it, filled up for our baby. Do you want to have my baby, pet? Do you want me to breed you? Fill you up? Ruin you for anyone else with my cock?” 

“Yes!” You sobbed, although you were barely conscious of what you were saying, barely even conscious of what he was saying, another orgasm fast approaching, “Michael, please! Fill me up! I need you!”

“Then cum for me,” Growling, he brought his nose down to touch yours, “Squeeze my cock with that tight pussy of yours, finish for me, and accept my seed knowing that you belong to me now, understood?” 

“Yes, yes, yes! Michael, I’m yours, I belong to you, yes!” Your screams were echoing around the room now, but you couldn’t hold back, not when he felt so good, and this time rather than a boiling in your stomach your orgasm felt like an awakening, like you were being reborn. 

You came harder than you knew was possible and Michael quickly followed suit, pumping you full of his thick, hot ropes of cum, more than he had ever cum before, filling you all the way up. 

Whimpering, you sat up, and rather than letting you move away Michael pulled you to his lap and dragged himself to the wall to lean against once again, hushing your mewls with a kiss, “Good girl. That’s my good little pet. I’m gonna stay inside you, okay? Gotta make sure you don’t lose a single drop.”

Nodding, you felt your eyelids start to flutter, your head dropping to his chest, “Yes, Michael. I’m...I’m so tired.”

“I know you are, little one, I know you are. Get some rest now. No one will interrupt us. Rest, my sweet, and have dreams of the future we will build together,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, and letting out a happy hum as he felt you already drifting off, and before he did the same he whispered in your ear, “I’m proud of you.”

#Michael Langdon smut #outpost!michael Langdon smut #outpost!michael #outpost!michael Langdon #outpost!michael smut #outpost!michael Langdon x reader #outpost!michael Langdon x reader smut #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x reader smut #ahs fic #ahs fics #ahs smut #oof #yeah

[agathasangel]

her favorite (wilhemina venable x fem!reader)

Warnings: Angst, Mina has a soft side, ambiguous/sad ending I guess. TW for injury, blood and death. 

Summary: When the apocalypse comes, you get taken away and brought to a strange underground sanctuary, which Wilhemina Venable ruled with an iron fist. But against all odds, this harsh woman took a liking to you. This is your relationship from when the you’re taken to the outpost all the way to when the timeline is reset.

You never believed there was anything extraordinary or special about you. You were a regular college student. You had no idea what you wanted to do with your life. Little did you know that you wouldn’t need to know anyway. 

You lived alone and spent most of your time drawing, writing or working for your classes. Even though you were lonely, you were still happy with your life. Until it all changed forever.

One day, you got a missile alert on your phone. You panicked, not knowing wha to do or if you should believe it or not. You decided to grab a bunch of food from your pantry, your notebook and pencils and a change of clothes, shoved them into your backpack and tried to run to the basement of your building. Before you could get there, you were grabbed by two men wearing all black.

“(Y/n), You have been selected by The Cooperative.”

“You’re coming with us.”

“What are you talking about? What’s the Cooperative?”

“Your exceptional genetic makeup has made you a prime candidate to survive this apocalypse. We’re taking you to an outpost where you’ll be safe.”

Because the only alternative was hiding in the basement of your apartment building and waiting for certain death, you decided to just go along with it and not fight.

The men put you in a holding cell. While you waited, you wondered who else the Cooperative decided to save. You worried about your family back home, your friends, and the girl from school you were in love with. What would happen to them? Would they get sent to an outpost? Would they find somewhere else safe? You couldn’t stand the thought of anyone you love dying of radiation.

You were at the point of wallowing in your regret for not doing enough before all this happened, and especially for not telling that girl how you felt about her, when the two men grabbed you again.

“Time to go.” one said. The two men stripped you and scrubbed you down, and then put you into a hazmat suit and took you to Outpost Three.

When you arrived, one of the first things you heard was a cane (her cane, you would come to find out) clicking against the floor.

The most beautiful woman you have ever seen, with red hair and black Victorian-style clothes who walked with a cane came into your view.

“I’m Wilhemina Venable,” she told you, “Welcome to Outpost Three.”

The woman showed you around the outpost. It was so large and ornate, nothing like what you were expecting.

“This place is beautiful. Was it built for this?”

“It was not. For years it served as an exclusive boy’s school. But it was donated. Once the Cooperative realized what was coming.”

“What exactly... is the Cooperative?”

“They are are saviors, Miss (y/l/n). The visionaries. The ones who saw the end, and decided to make it the beginning. I am their face, Miss (y/l/n).”

She showed you to your room. You did not expect to bunk beds or something, but instead you got a place all you yourself.

“As a purple, you will be furnished with a private suite.”

“A purple?”

“The purples are the elite. The ones chosen by the Cooperative to survive. The purples wear purple. The greys, our worker ants, wear grey. You see, Miss (y/l/n), here everyone must know their place. Luckily for you, your place is near the top.”

“What about you? What are you?” you said, resisting the urge to make some kind of innuendo about this woman you found incredibly hot being the top.

“I am neither. I am the right arm of the Cooperative, my job being to run this outpost.”

So she was the top. Nice.

“The house rules are simple. You will refer to me only as Ms. Venable. You will never leave the building due to the dangers of radiation contamination. If you leave you will not be allowed back in. And finally, no unauthorized copulation of any kind. Under any circumstances. You’ll find your evening wear on the right side of the armoire. You are expected in the music room at 6:30.” And the woman left. You knew you probably didn’t have much of a chance with the cold woman in the first place anyway, but the rule against sex confirmed it. It was okay though. You changed into the corset and purple gown Ms. Venable provided for you (was it the Cooperative that had a serious thing for Victorian fashion or was it just Ms. Venable?).

You walked into the music room, which was playing the same song on repeat, and was filled with a bunch of people who you vaguely recognized. Some talk show host, her son, his boyfriend, and a bunch of people from prominent families. You were the only one there so far that was just plucked out of their home by chance. 

During dinner, You sat next to where Ms. Venable sat at the head of the table. Despite knowing you didn’t have much of a shot, you were still attracted to her. But, did you just imagine, that she didn’t look at you with the same amount of disdain that she looked at the others with?

After a while, two more people like you showed up, and both of them were close to your age. However, they only wanted to be with each other most of the time. You assumed they would become a couple, and that Ms. Venable’s whole “no-sex” rule was probably really dragging them down.

One day, after an incident where the entire outpost thought they were being fed the body of one another purple who was killed due to contamination, you were in the library, sitting and drawing. You wanted to take your mind off of everything. You thought you were alone, but then you heard the click of a cane on the ground and realized that you weren’t. 

“(Y/n). I thought I would find you in here.”

You jumped and held your notebook to your chest. “Ms. Venable! Is there... something you need?”

The woman chuckled. “You’re not like the rest of them, you know that? You’re so much better.”

“You think so?”

“I do. And I do hope that you don’t think any less of me after last night’s debacle.”

Why does she care what I think? “I don’t. I know you would never.... do what Andre accused you of. And besides, wasn’t he contaminated? I know you wouldn’t make us eat something contaminated, that just doesn’t make sense...”

“I’m glad someone in this outpost has some damn common sense. I like you, (y/n),” she said as she walked by you and lightly ran a hand through your hair as she went by. “Do not tell the others that I favor you,” the woman instructed as she sat by you and peered into your notebook. She started asking you about your writing and drawing and you showed them to her. And you ripped out one of your most recent drawings, a drawing of Ms. Venable herself, and gave it to her.

“Thank you, (y/n). That is... kind of you.”

“Of course.”

The woman moved in to kiss you, and you obliged her. She wrapped her arms around your waist and kissed you. You closed your eyes and let your top lip fall in between her lips and she started to bite your lip, lightly at first and then roughly. You were really enjoying it, but then she pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” she told you. “Please, do not tell anyone.”

“Ms. Venable-”

“I’m sorry, Miss (y/l/n), but this simply cannot happen.”

“But-”

But she had left.

The next time you were alone with Ms. Venable was while Michael Langdon was giving his interviews. You had had yours earlier that day, and Ms. Venable seemed to be right after you. You were in the library, again, and you swore you heard crying. You looked for the source, and it was her. You didn’t even think that this woman could cry. She looked shocked to see you.

“Get out.”

“Ms. Venable, what’s going on?”

She was trying to hold on until you left, but you held out until the woman burst into tears again.

“Please, Ms. Venable, please tell me what happened. You know I care about you.”

“You’re the only one who does. And you wouldn’t if you knew what I really am.”

“That’s not true. Is this about your interview?”

“Langdon... he unzipped my dress... he saw my back, my disgusting...”

“Hey, I’m sure it’s not disgusting-”

“And then he told me that I didn’t... that I didn’t pass.. I’m going to die here, (y/n).”

“That’s not fair. I’m sorry, Ms. Venable.”

“I.. I hope you get out of here, (y/n). I still lo- I still, um, care for you.”

“I don’t want to leave without you, Ms. Venable.”

“I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice in that matter.”

Late that night, you were woken by a familiar sound of a cane and then a knock at your door.

“It’s open, please come in Ms. Venable.”

She entered your room and sat down on the foot of your bed.

“I have news,” she started. “Ms. Mead and I have plans to escape this place. She doesn’t know it yet, but you’re coming with us. We will find the sanctuary ourselves. How does that sound?”

“Great, Ms. Venable. I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Wonderful. So that’s settled then,” said Ms. Venable as she started to leave.

“Wait. Why don’t you stay in here, Ms. Venable?”

She hesitated but agreed. She climbed into your bed and hesitantly put an arm around you.

“You can call me Mina. That’s what my parents and the few friends I had used to call me before the war.”

“Mina... beautiful. You’re so beautiful, Mina.”

And she kissed you again. You didn’t go any further than that because she was afraid of you seeing the body she was so ashamed of.

“I understand. But I promise when you want to I will think that you are perfect, because you are, Mina”

“You’re too sweet, little one,” she told you. She fell asleep in your bed, with you. She woke up earlier than normal and shook you awake.

“I’m leaving so no one else finds out I was here. But I love you, my little one.” 

You reached out to her and she lightly touched your hand with the hand that was free from her cane before walking away.

That was the first time she said that she loved you.

This started to happen every night. Ms. Venable- or Mina would come into your room late, would talk with you and kiss you and most importantly, she would update you on the situation with the escape and Langdon.

The night before Halloween, she told you the most terrifying thing of them all. She and Ms. Mead planned on poisoning the entire outpost during the party, including Langdon, before their escape. You protested.

“It is simply what needs to be done, (y/n).”

“What about me?”

“You will hide in your room until we are ready. You will be locked in. I am sorry, (y/n), but your only other options are your death, my death, or both of our deaths. And I will not die.”

“This isn’t right.”

“What choice do we have?”

Mina still stayed with you that night, and while things were still tense between the two of you, she still told you she loves you, that she only wants to protect you. And despite everything, you still loved her.

All day, you dreaded every second that passed. The other purples were so excited about the party, and you wanted to tell them that they were going to die, but you simply couldn’t speak. When the party started, you were locked in your room. You had no idea what to do with yourself. You weren’t close with anyone in the outpost other than Mina anyway, but you didn’t want them to die. You heard the music downstairs and all the sounds of the happy partygoers. The young couple dancing. Coco, Gallant and even Mallory having fun together. 

You didn’t want to let it happen. But even if you could somehow get out, what would happen? What would happen to Mina? What would happen to you?

And then you heard screams. It was too late. 

And then, silence.

You expected Mina and Ms. Mead to come and rescue you and prepare for escape, but they didn’t come. 

After ten minutes, they didn’t come. After thirty, they still hadn’t come. You banged on the door and nothing happened. You searched and searched for a way out and there was nothing. You took a clip out of your hair and tried to pick the lock, and it finally worked. You ran down the hall, searching for any sign of Mina, Ms. Mead, anyone. And then, you saw her. 

Mina was lying on the ground of Michael’s bedroom, alone, bleeding. Someone had shot her.

“Mina! Mina, are you alive? What happened?”

“shhhhh....” she said, weakly. At least the was still alive. You searched for something to do and you decided to rip a big chunk of your skirt off and use it to stop Mina's bleeding. 

“Breathe,” you whispered. “It’ll be okay...”

You weren’t sure if you believed what you were saying, but her bleeding did slow. You did everything you remembered to help her, including keeping her warm and putting pressure on the wound. 

“I love you, little one.” said Mina.

#my fics #wilhemina venable #ahs #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction #wilhemina venable x reader #venable x reader #sarah paulson #i wrote this in like two hours so it might not be good #but im posting it anyway

[buckybarnesplum]

can you write about jealous/possessive michael? 

Jealous Michael Langdon

  Staying at Hawthorne, a school full of boys, it sometimes got lonely. Yes you had Michael, but you missed having friends you could relate too. When a warlock named James befriended you, you were happy that you finally had someone to call friend. You and James had a lot in common, so much that when Michael was busy studying for the 7 Wonders test you would hang out with James. Michael started noticing that you were hanging out with the brown haired boy, and just because he didn't say anything didn't mean it didn't bother him.

   Michael started distancing himself from you, it started with him giving you one word responses which was weird for Michael, he wouldn't kiss you or hold you, he would turn his back to you when you guys went to bed, and he looked irritated every time you would hang out with James. You talked to him about it but he shrugged you off and told you he was stressed with the 7 wonders, which you knew he was lying because he was more than capable of doing the test.

   James had asked you to hang out in the library to which you agreed on. "I'm going to the library to hang with James, wanna come with babe?" you asked hugging him from behind resting your head on his back and holding his chests with you hands while he sat at his desk reading. "No" he said, "Mikey c'mon, it'll be fun" you pouted kissing his cheek, "Y/N can't you see I'm studying?" he said starting to get annoyed and taking your hands off your chest. He only called you by your first name when he was mad or annoyed at you, which seemed to be pretty frequent lately. Standing up straight and biting down on your lip, you whispered a barely audible sorry and headed out the door.

  "Hey girl!" James greeted you and pulled you into a quick hug, "Hi" you sat down next to him.

  "Are you okay? You sound so sad, did you get into a fight with Michael?" he said with concern in his voice.

  "I'm fine, it's just that I feel like we're falling apart. He doesn't talk to, he doesn't wanna hang out and it's been so long since he has even given me a simple amount of affection. He means the world to me but I feel like he doesn't love me anymore." you sighed

  "Girl you're probably overreacting, Michael is absolutely in love with you, the man is whipped! He is probably stressed because of the 7 Wonders test, just give him time, I'm sure you guys will be back to your disgustingly cute selves." he said reassuringly and you giggled at the last part.

  "Yeah, you're probably right, thanks James" you smiled at him.

  "Okay, changing the subject, tell me about this boy you like."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh fuck it's late." you looked at the clock on the wall. James nodded, "I'll walk you to your room." he said as you got up. You got to yours and Michael's shared room, "This is me." you told him, "Yep, and remember what I said. He would be crazy to not want you anymore. Girl you have an amazing personality, you're absolutely gorgeous and you have a body every girl would dream to have. You are the perfect package, okay?" he said hugging you, "Oh my god, stop, you're the sweetest." you pouted.

"Now go make things right with your man."

You nodded, "Okay, love you." you told him, "Love you too, girly" he smiled and walked away.

You opened the door to the room and saw Michael sitting on the bed as if he was waiting for you. He stared you down as you closed the door, "It's late." he glared.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. We got caught up talking." you walked to stand in front of him between his legs. You went to kiss his cheek but he turned away, "What's wrong?" you furrowed your brows, looking at him. He scoffed and stood up, "Sit." he said looking down at you. You did as you were told and he squatted to be at eye level with you. He grabbed you jaw and stared at you, "You're so pretty," he paused and licked your lip then bit it, "but so fucking naive." he lightly tapped your cheek. You furrowed your brows and opened your mouth but he interrupted you before you could even say anything, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice," you held your breath, "You are fucking mine, you know that right?" he looked at you waiting for your answer, "Yes, I-" he interrupted you again.

"Then why the hell do you think it's okay for you to be walking around with that fucking prick? Huh? You think it's okay for him to be commenting on your body and looking at you the way that he does? Hmm?" His hand that was holding your jaw moved down to your neck, "I don't want you around him or any guy. Am I clear?" he stared into your eyes. "He's my friend, Michael." you responded biting your lip.

He shoved you down on the bed by your neck, "You're not understanding me, you are mine got it? You want a friend? I can be your friend," he quickly pecked your lips and got in between your legs.

"These lips, mine." he kissed your lips passionately but pulled away before you could react.

"This pretty little face, mine." he gave you pecks all over your face.

"And this gorgeous little body," he paused, pulling away to look at your body,

"It belongs to me." he pulled his lips to your neck, sucking at your sweet spot. He kept sucking on your neck, moving down, your tank top allowing him to leave hickeys all over your chest. "Can I?" he asked tugging on your shirt, you nodded as your bit your lip shyly. He pulled the shirt off of your body and stared at you in awe.

Michael and you have never gotten that far, you've never even seen each other naked.

"You are so beautiful, my love. Can I take these off?" he licked his lips and tugged at your jeans. "Yeah" you breathed out nervously, he peeled your tight jeans off of your legs.  He put his hands on your hips and went back to sucking on your neck and chest.

He kept doing this until your whole neck and chest was covered with his marks.  He sat up on his knees, putting your legs over his thighs, then pulling you up by your neck so that you were sitting on him. The hand that was wrapped around your neck moved to hold your cheek, his free  hand went on your hip, almost on your ass, and he squeezed the flesh gently. "You're a little bit overdressed, Mikey." you told him, pecking his cheek. He grinned at you, pulling you off of him and taking his clothes off, so that he was only left in his boxers. He pulled you back into the position that you were in before, his hands hugging your waist tightly, pulling your body as close to his as possible.

 "I love you. You know that right?" he pecked your cheek then your lips.

"Of course I know that. I love you too." You pecked his lips and put your hands around his neck.

"I'm sorry for neglecting you these past couple of day, I saw with James so much that I thought I was gonna lose you." He apologized and you furrowed your brows, "Mikey, the love I have for you is indescribable, I love you so much and I would never leave you for anything in this world." you ran your hands through his hair, something you did when you needed to calm him down. You pulled him closer, gently pecking his jaw gently. He sighed contently, hugging your body tightly.

 "And just so you have a more peace at mind, James would rather steal you away from me." he looked at you confused, "What do you mean?" he said with furrowed brows.

"He's gay, my love." you pecked his lips and his face flushed.

"Ohhh."

-----------------------

I hope it was good <3

Taglist

@angelicmichael  @champagnesugamama @kitty4860

[revengeoftheantichrist]

HEYYYY, I was wondering if you could make a NSFW alphabet for Rockstar!Michael Langdon? I loved Anti-Christ Superstar, and was sad that it didn't get the love it deserved

Thank you so much for this! I miss him lmmaoo so i hope this does him justice!

AO3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) This depends on if you’re just a one-night stand or in a long-term thing. Either way I think he’d help you clean up. If it’s just casual he’d get you to leave after but if it’s long-term he would hold you close and make sure to give u lil kissies.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s) He LOVES his hands on himself. He knows they’re the centre of attention when he’s playing his guitar and he loves what he can use them for when with you. I think he’s a thigh guy when it comes to a partner idk, but I feel it. Don’t get me started on seeing his hands grabbing your thighs lmmaoo. But I also think he loves your eyes. It’s what he looks for in a crowd and in Antichrist Superstar, it’s the only way you can both communicate on stage.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If it’s casual he won’t cum inside you, he doesn’t want any lawsuits or little hims running around the world. The band does not want to be spending it’s budget on child support. If it’s long-term however, he loves the thought of ‘claiming’ you by cumming inside, and it’s that breeding kink lmmaoo

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Want’s to make a sex-tape so bad lmaoo. Also wants you to peg him. E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I think he’s fairly experienced. There’s no shortage of people that want to be railed by him and he’s the anti-Christ, it’s sort of a low-key challenge for him to corrupt people with the time of their lives u kno.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) DOGGY lol he loves it. He also likes to be ridden while he smokes a joint very rockstar aesthetique u kno. But sometimes he wants to get a lil intimate so he likes positions where he can face you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He’s deffo serious but gets goofy after if its long-term.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Very well groomed, he’s got an ego and his looks reflect that.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Again, I think this depends on how serious the relationship is. If it’s casual he’s not going to bother. But if it’s long-term, he can get suuuper romantic and it’s kinda cute.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Doesn’t do it often because he doesn’t have to. There’s always someone available. Once you get into a relationship, I think you both like to relive the adrenaline from the show if ugm lol. In the off chance there’s no one available I think he likes to jack off in the shower, it relaxes him and easy clean-up.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Breeding kink once you become serious. He also likes to leave marks just to let other people know you belong to him. I think he’d like to tie you up occasionally too. Idk if this is a kink but I think he’d like to fuck you while you’re trying to practise your bass.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Backstage, tour bus, anywhere semi-public. Will occasionally get a fancy hotel room to destroy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Just seeing you rock out on stage tbh. You both have so much pent up energy after so naturally sex is a way to solve it. He also gets a lil jealous when you talk to guys from other bands so that’s a motivator too. And I think just being in close quarters when sharing a tour bus tbh. He’s just one horny man.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) I think if it’s long term he wouldn’t like the idea of letting another band member to join. He sort of wants to keep you to himself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Both, eats pussy like a champ but also loves getting head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Prefers fast and rough and I think his partners do too. Will occasionally be slow and sensual depending on the circumstance.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Loves quickies and tbh it’s the best you can do on the road.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He’s willing to experiment as long as you both don’t get caught lol.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) If you have the time, he can keep going. But again, if you’re on the road he knows how to pace himself.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) When he’s home from touring then he likes to use toys on you because why not. Like I mentioned before I think he would like to get pegged by you eventually so has the stuff on hand.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) LOVES to tease and make you beg, but you get him back in other ways.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He can be quiet when you need to be, but he will make sure to grunt in your ear and its kinda hot. But if you’re not somewhere public he’ll be loud as fuck and expects you to do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Grew his hair out just because he likes it when you tug on it lol.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) You know he’s big and thick and proud of it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) I don’t think it’d be that high when he’s not in a long-term relationship. Once he’s serious however, well, RIP that pussy ayyy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) If it’s casual, hell conk out after kicking the person out. Long-term, likes a little bit of pillow talk and stuff before you both drift off.

#my writing #prompts #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader

[mrslangdon666]

Hi! Your submissive Michael Langdon is just *chef kiss* i don't like fanfics where reader is always so inocent, shy and submissive. Can i request a headcanon for reader who loves reading move to murder house and be young!michael's only friend. When she moved murder house, Michael came and want to be her friend. Then Michael start to come everyday, they talk about books they read, reader listen and comfort him when he is sad and he started to grow a crush for reader. Thank you~

Thanks hun! Here you go—

-When your parents told you you were moving, you were honestly excited. You hated everyone at your school because of how mean they were and just couldn’t wait to get away. When you’d arrived to the infamous murder house, you noticed things. There was a boy who lived next to you. When you moved in you caught him staring at you a lot when you were outside doing stuff. Even though your nose was in a book, you felt his eyes on you.

-Somehow, you eventually got the courage to say hello. He looked up at you with his icy blue eyes and you felt connected to him instantly...from then on you became friends. His grandmother Constance couldn’t have been happier that Michael finally had a friend, and you finally had one too honestly.

-You spent a lot of your free time at Michael’s house, you two reading and watching tv together. You found out that you both adored Harry Potter, which was a huge plus in your friendship.

-It wasn’t always happiness and butterflies though...sometimes Michael would be extremely upset about his grandmother. He wouldn’t tell me why, but he would have tear stained cheeks and a frown on his face. You would comfort him when he was like this, pulling him into a hug and whispering things to make him feel better. It was sad...it was like he was so touch starved. You felt bad for him.

-One day, you two were on the sofa talking about your newest book. Michael gave you a look that you’d never seen before, and kissed you. It was quick, as if he was scared and wanted to test the waters. You were in shock at first, but after a couple seconds you pulled him back to you and pressed your lips to his.

-You and Michael had been inseperable since then...always together. You were each others only friend and source of affection, and you loved eachother dearly. You promised eachother you’d always be there for one another, no matter what. Boy, did Michael keep his promise...

*Authors note: Hope this was okay love!

Xoxo,

Mrs. Langdon🖤🫀

#soft! michael langdon #young michael Langdon #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x reader murder house

[7-wonders]

Could you please do an imagine with the aurora (the daughter) micheal x reader where the reader and aurora goes shopping and she tells the reader about kids being mean to her and calling Michael evil and she used her powers to hurt someone and Micheal teaches her how to not lash out (sorry its very long)

So Michael, Reader, and Aurora were in the Sanctuary already when I wrote the first little thing about the three of them...we'll just say this is a slight AU...or maybe the Outpost was? I don't know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

//

Grocery shopping is an errand that Michael actually doesn't really mind. It's familiar to him, reminding him of simpler days when he would accompany Ms. Mead to the grocery store when he was a shy, angry teenager. Things certainly have changed since those trips to the grocery store, yet this shop, with its florescent lights and aisles upon aisles of food (capitalism at its finest), remains the same.

The biggest change, at least in Michael's mind, is that he's no longer the child accompanying their parental figure to the store. Instead, he's the parent, with a child of his own holding tightly onto the cart as he once did.

Aurora's so small that she doesn't even reach the top of the cart, and Michael continuously glances down to make sure that she hasn't slipped away. Normally he wouldn't have to keep checking she hasn't wandered off, as you've both raised a very chatty four-year-old. Today, however, she's uncharacteristically quiet. She doesn't even giggle when she tries to sneakily slip some cookies into the cart, which is how Michael knows she's not just feeling quiet today.

"Something's wrong," he says to her as they continue to walk the aisles.

Aurora looks up at him. "With what?"

"With you. What is it, Lovebug?" She opens her mouth to talk, and then closes it when Michael shoots her a look. "Remember, you know that we don't lie in this family."

It takes her a moment for her to finally say what's bothering her. "Are friends supposed to be mean?"

Michael grabs Aurora's favorite cereal and tosses it in the cart, even though they both know that this was definitely not on the list that had been approved by both you and Michael. "That depends. Are they being mean to you?"

"No, they're being mean to you."

"To me?" He stops the cart, bending down to Aurora's level. "You don't need to worry about my feelings, Rory. I can handle myself."

"But Marissa said that her parents think you're evil! And then Keira and Rafael said that too!"

"They did?" Now that might be a problem.

It's all rumors, Michael knows that. There's no way that these people, with their high-rise lives, would know that he's the Antichrist. But Michael also knows that there's weird things that happen when he's around. It's pretty hard to hide that there's something off about him when ravens circle the preschool at pickup time, and Aurora's definitely accidentally talked about Satanists and the powers that Michael possesses.

"I told them that they were being mean," Aurora says, "but they didn't care. So I..."

"You hit them?" If that were the case, you and Michael would have received a phone call from her school.

"No. I tripped them, but nobody knew it was me. I used our secret."

'Our secret' is what the Langdon family collectively refers to powers as, that way you don't have to try and censor Aurora if she accidentally talks about her powers in public. She can only do small things, and never has she brought harm to people. It's one of the things Michael loves about her, that she's so unlike him.

"And you know that was wrong, yes?" Michael asks.

"I know I shouldn't have, but they made me so mad!"

Michael straightens up, taking Aurora's hand as the two begin to walk down the aisles again. It'll be easier to talk to her if he's not staring right at her. "It's alright to be upset. What's not alright is hurting somebody because you're upset."

"They weren't hurt, they just fell."

"But were you doing something nice?"

Her face falls. "No."

"We can be angry, or sad, or however we want to feel. What matters in the end is how we react to those feelings. Would you have wanted somebody to trip you?" She shakes her head. "I wouldn't either."

"Can I still be friends with them? Even if they were mean?"

"Of course you can. We all make mistakes, but we can also forgive each other for those mistakes."

"And they'll forgive me for tripping them?"

Michael chuckles. "I don't think they know you did that, but yes, they would forgive you for that."

"Do you forgive their mommies and daddies for saying you're evil?"

"I do. They only said it because they don't know me."

Aurora smiles as Michael squeezes her hand. "I don't think you're evil, Daddy."

"Well thank you, sweet girl. Now," Michael checks the list one more time to make sure they have everything, "it looks like we're done here, which I think gives us enough time to go get ice cream. What do you think?"

He takes his daughter's squeals as a 'yes.' Ice cream can serve as a treat for both of them: Aurora for learning about forgiveness, and Michael for handling a parenting issue on his own.

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

Snow White pt. 2 (Ms Venable x reader)

hiya guys, i just wanted to say thank you for all your support🥺👉🏻👈🏻..yk i have social phobia so everything is a little bit complicated and your nice words give me a lot of self-confidence lol

tbh i planned snow white as a oneshot, but coz of the requests i wrote a second  part..i hope you all like it!..google translate you know?

request: by @lockscreens-and-icons : Holy geez, a part two to snow white please! That part 1 was good!

pt. 1:

https://littlejeaniehugsbumblebees.tumblr.com/post/638901993936650240/snow-white-ms-venablex-reader

"NO! ..", you yelled and ran into the room to kneel on the floor next to your Ms. Venable.

"What the hell ...?" Michael Langdon hissed as he watched you trying desperately to stop her bleeding with your trembling hands.

"I thought you killed everyone?"

He glared at Ms. Mead, who was standing in the room, overwhelmed.

"I don't know..Ms Venable said she was important ..." she stuttered.

You got up and stumbled to the Antichrist.

"You stupid asshole .." you screamed, trying to raise your left hand to hit him, but he grabbed your wrist.

"Careful Ms Y / L / N ... we don't want this to be bloodier than it already is .." he said dangerously.

"You know, you'd be perfect for the sanctuary too..we-"

"Fuck that .." you growled and raised your right hand to hit his cheek.

He immediately let go of your wrist and cursed, but you ignored him and let yourself fall over Ms. Venable again.

"Please Mina .." you whispered crying. Your bloody hands ran trembling over her pale face. She had stopped moving. That just couldn't be true. Just 24 hours ago you had sneaked through the hallways of the outpost believing she hated you. And now you were lying here and everything had changed.

"The witches are here .." Langdon suddenly said after wiping your bloody handprint off his face.

"What stupid witches?" You whimpered.

"And what do we do with her?" You heard Ms. Mead's voice hiss.

"We'll take care of her later, first of all I want to hold the severed head of this blonde bitch in my hands ..".

The Antichrist passed you without another word and left the room with Ms. Mead.

As soon as you were alone you started to sob loudly and laid your head on her chest. That's how you sat in her lap last night. Only then you could have heard her heartbeat, which was now missing.

Your bloody fingers clung to her white blouse, leaving dark red stains. There was so much blood everywhere.

With her all people had died who had ever meant something to you and at any moment the Antichrist would come again to finally kill you too.

Suddenly you heard voices from the hallway. They screamed.

The others were dead, weren't they?

The door opened and for a moment you were afraid it might be Michael Langdon, but a young girl entered the room. You had never seen her before.

She frowned at the sight of you.

"You're not a coven .." she muttered.

"What the hell is a Coven? And who the fuck are you ?.", you stood up.

"M'Zoe ..." she uttered and looked at Ms Venable, you followed her gaze and looked down at the dead woman again.

"Please help me ..", you whispered, still looking into Mina's dead eyes.

"Maybe we can still save her."

You looked back at the girl.

"We're here to save everyone ... and things will be as they should be .."

--------------------

-3 hours ago-

You nervously jumped through the hallways of the oupost to go to the common room. You tried to be as happy as ever, even though fireworks raged inside you.

"Hello Miss Y / L / N ..", said Ben, a gray, when he came towards you with a pile of towels.

You looked at him disappointed.

"How did you know that it was me? I'm wearing a mask .."

Ben laughed. "You are the only person who would dance so happily through this outpost .. By the way, the dress suits you .."

"Thanks .." you smiled at him before he left. You stopped in front of a mirror and stroked the folds of your long, red dress.

You were back in your mind on Ms. Venable's lap as she explained her plan to you.

–––––––––––––

"..... These apples will be provided with sleeping pills and while the others are sleeping we will leave the outpost and travel to the Sanctuary .. The others don't deserve to be there and they will have enough to survive here .. "she said, raising her hand to brush your hair off your face. You leaned into her touch.

"Will it be sleeping pills?"

She nodded and smiled.

"I promise.."

----------------

Ms. Venable stared indecisively in the mirror. Half of her wanted to put on a flashy dress. She wanted to hear you say how beautiful she was. But her other half found the thought silly and she mentally kicked herself for longing so much for your loving words.

But you wouldn't have loved words for her if you found out that she had lied.

Sleeping pills ... something idiotic.

But she could never have told you the truth. You would never have agreed to her plan had you known, that she would kill everyone.

You were still way too innocent for something like that.

Ms Venable stepped away from the mirror and decided to dress as usual and just put on a different blouse.

---------------------

When Ms Venable walked into the room 10 minutes later and couldn't help frightening Coco, you couldn't help but grin stupidly, but she just shot you a disapproving look.

And you felt like the little idiot you were again. She had been as cold to you all day as ever, but you knew it wasn't your fault. That's just how she was. Don't show that you are weak.

During the evening you just stood around lost and watched the others dance and somehow you were sad. You would leave all these idiots and although you hate their self-loving asses, they were the only people you knew and you didn't know what to expect in the sanctuary.

Ms. Venable stepped up to you imperceptibly and stood next to you.

"I'll leave the room in a moment and you will come in 5 minutes to meet me in the hallway .." she said quietly and also watched the others dancing.

"Didn't you say at 10? It's just 8 ...", you were confused and couldn't see her little smile because your eyes, like hers, were still on each other.

"I know."

That was the last thing she said before she left the room.

You stared after her nervously. What was she up to?

When you stepped into the hallway about 5 minutes later, Ms. Venable was already waiting for you. She was standing in the middle of the hall, clutching her cane in both hands.

"What's going on?" You asked when you stood in front of her, but she just stared at you thoughtfully.

"Dance with me .." she suddenly uttered.

You blinked in surprise.

"Ms. Venable, you-"

"My name is Wilhemina .."

"Well, Wilhemina," you began and smiled gently.

"I would love to dance with you, but I'm not sure about your back .."

She let out an amused snort before leaning her cane against the wall, taking your hand in her right, and placing her left on your hip.

"You know, as long as I can hold on to you, everything is okay .." she said, blushing as you carefully placed your right hand on her shoulder.

Slowly you started to move to the music, but you were very nervous at first and stared down at your feet while her eyes bored into your skull. It had been a long time since you were so intimate with anyone. And it was much more intimate than the hours you had spent on her lap last night.

Maybe it was because it was more of an accident last night when you fell asleep and fell into her lap and now she had asked you to touch her yourself. And while that made you nervous, somewhere it also filled you with pride.

"Are you scared?" She asked softly and you lifted your head to look into her eyes.

You shook your head.

"If you mean the escape, no .. I'm no more afraid than usual. I'm just glad that I can finally get out of here .."

She gave you a thoughtful look before slowly nodding.

"You don't have many friends here, do you?"

"They make fun of me for being so clumsy. I think they don't like me because I think differently than they do .." you said and shrugged your shoulders. "But that's reciprocal .. I don't like those selfish assholes either .."

A small smile twitched at the corner of Ms. Venable's mouth for a split second, but just as quickly as it came it was gone. Or maybe you just imagined it.

"They don't like you because you're the only one around here who behaves humanly .." she said, making you laugh.

"Humanly .." you repeated her words.

"Well, Ms. Venable-"

"Wilhemina."

"Mina .." you said slowly, watching her reaction to that nickname. She gave you the indifferent expression on your face as always.

"Do you think you act humanly?"

"I don't think people would be afraid of anything they could compare themselves with... like humanly.." she whispered.

Your eyebrows rose towards your hairline.

"So is that what you want? To be feared?"

"It's the only way to get the respect I want .."

"You mean your scoliosis?" You whispered now and looked up at her worriedly.

The thought of her scoliosis stumbled Ms. Venable. You carefully wrapped your arms around her to stabilize her. And already you were a little closer to her. Her right hand, which was previously holding yours, came to rest on the right side of your hip. You reluctantly put your head against her chest and inhaled her perfume.

"Did I already tell you, that you smell good?" You mumbled, unable to see her smile as she lifted her chin on your head.

"Did I already tell you, that you look beautiful in that dress?" She replied and you let out a laugh.

For a few minutes neither of you said anything. And you realized that this was not only the most intimate moment in a long time, but also the most beautiful. You thought back to what she had just said. And then the image slipped into your head again, how she leaves Michael Langdon's room with her dress half open. You could have been blind and you could still have felt her discomfort.

"I don't need to be afraid of you to see your beauty .." you whispered quietly, afraid that she hadn't heard. But she did.

"Thanks ..", she muttered in a choked voice and had her eyes closed. Nobody had ever said anything like this to her before.

"I completely forgot to tell you last night .." you started, still in a whisper.

"I love you too."

She didn't answer you and just hugged you a little tighter.

"We should go back inside .." she finally said after two more minutes of silence. You nodded briefly and reached for her walking stick, which was still leaning against the wall, to pass it to her.

She gave you a genuine smile that meant more to you than she would ever know.

"You go first and I will follow you with the apples in a few minutes ..", she explained and again you nodded briefly.

When you got back into the common room, nobody seemed to have missed you. Most of them were lost in the room, drunk and laughing at jokes that weren't funny. At least you thought so. You noticed that Coco wasn't there, but you didn't worry about it. A single person would not be able to prevent your escape, and certainly not Coco.

––––––––––––––––––

While you watched the others stick their heads into the water barrel, Ms. Venable stood next to you the whole time and stared contemptuously at the people below her.

Again she hadn't spoken to you, or even looked at you. It was her weird kind of affection that you appreciated very much.

"Why don't you play with us, Y / N?" Timothy asked with a laugh and tossed the apple in his hand.

"Apple allergy," you said sadly and didn't even have to fake your grief anymore. For 18 months you have been feeding on those disgusting cubes like the others and although you knew, that tomorrow it was probably all over, it was difficult for you to watch the others play.

Ms. Venable put a hand on your back unnoticed and reminded you that in a few hours it would all be over.

5 minutes later Ms. Venable had given her short speech and the others had started eating their apples when you noticed that your jacket was still down on the sofa. And without it you would not flee, it had belonged to your brother and was the only thing you had left.

"I'll be right back .." you muttered to Ms. Venable and ran back into the hallway. You quickly sprinted down the stairs and jogged through the corridor. Your pace slowed when you saw what was going on in the common room. You began to tremble at the sight and watched with wide eyes as each and every one of them emptied their stomachs and the others vomited. That was the most disgusting thing you had ever seen. You watched disturbed as they all choked on their own vomit and finally died. When the last person fell and nobody moved, you were still shivering in the doorway. Your whole body was in shock, but you were sure of one thing ... It was definitely not a sleeping pill ..

Behind you, you heard the rhythmic knocking of Ms. Venable's stick on the stone surface and for the first time, the sound made you actually scared. You turned around slowly and met Mina's worried eyes. She was only a few meters away from you.

"What did you do?" You whispered.

"I had to do it .." She kept her voice in a calm tone.

Ironically, you suddenly felt like vomiting too.

"You killed them .." you uttered and your lower lip began to tremble.

"Y / N, please ..".

She took a step towards you and tried to grab your hand.

"Do not touch me!" You screamed and flinched as you felt your eyes fill with tears.

"You're a fucking killer .."

You pointed at her with a trembling forefinger and she looked at you hurt. Your words hit her deep in the chest. That was exactly what she hadn't wanted to be, a murderer.

Warm tears ran down your face as your gaze wandered back to the room with the dead.

"They didn't deserve all of this here .." Ms. Venable said in a low voice behind you.

You drive around to her again andnd you glared at her.

"You had no right to decide ..." you hissed and looked into her injured eyes, which glittered with tears.

"I did this for us .." she croaked.

You just shook your head blankly.

"I didn't ask you to kill all of these people .."

Again she tried to grab your hand and this time you let it.

"I'm sorry, that's all I can say right now and I can't change it .." she began.

"We don't care about these people anymore, once we're in the Sanctuary, other things will be much more important, do you understand me?"

You nodded slowly.

"Ms Mead and I still have something to do .. then we will flee and the whole world will be ours .. you and me .."

"A dead world .." you muttered.

"A new world .."

She let go of your hand and kissed you briefly.

"I'll be right back .." she whispered and smiled at you one last time before walking to Ms Mead at the end of the hall.

You run your hair nervously.

If you had known that these were her last words to you, her last kiss, her last smile, what would you have done then? And if you had known that at that moment you had last heard the tap of her stick, would you have run after her?

" We are here to save everyone ... and things will be as they should be .."

#wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson x reader #american horror story