Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 2 - Mirror Sex. Michael is staying at Robichuax Academy, awaiting the Seven Wonders test. He takes a liking to one of the witches to pass the time and is determined to get her alone, no matter where that might be.
Tags: Mirror sex, P in V, Unprotected sex, Mildly dubious consent, Mild red flags, Praise kink, Biting, Marking, Bathroom sex, Out of character Michael, Hawthorne!Michael, Reader is a witch, SoftDom!Michael (sorta?), Antichrist!Michael (alluded to), No plot.
Word count: 2k
all fandom masterlist | ahs masterlist | read it on ao3
Authors note: I haven't watched Apocalypse in so long so a million apologies that this is definitely out of character!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡
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The halls of Robichaux Academy had never been tenser. Michael Langdon was staying in the academy, waiting to take the Seven Wonders test. A snake in your midst. He mostly kept to himself and his fellow warlocks but he had seemed to have taken an odd liking to you. He would flash you charming smiles as you passed him in the halls, make a point to sit beside you at dinner, pull out your chair for you and make a show of being the perfect gentleman. Despite him being considered the enemy, you could tell many of the witches felt deeply jealous at the attention he was lavishing on you. Michael, for all his flaws, was an extraordinarily handsome man, it was almost unnatural how flawless he looked. Sometimes, his perfect smiles almost unnerved you, made you feel that there was something almost wrong with him. However, then his eyes would land on you, almost softening slightly and you were swept away by his looks once more. You couldn’t understand the attention he paid you. None of the other warlocks had batted a single eye at you. Someone like Madison seemed much more deserving of this attention, but he was giving it to you, and you could hardly complain.
His temporary room in the academy was on the same corridor as yours, you passed him often on the way in and out. He would smile and try his best to ensnare you into conversation, but often you were busy, heading to classes or to bed. You could see his displeasure all over his face whenever you would make your excuses, but he remained measured and polite, suggesting he catch you some other time. Tonight, you left your room, toothbrush clutched in hand, heading for one of the shared bathrooms. He emerged almost instantly after you had, making you wonder if he’d been listening out for your door to open. He approaches from behind, snaking a hand across your back and onto your hip, using his grip to turn you to face him. He smiles charmingly as you flush a little.
“Good evening, my darling,” he purrs, tugging you a little closer. He’s never been quite this forward before, you find you don’t hate it.
“Good evening, Michael,” you smile back shyly. He’s still dressed in his pristine Hawthorne School uniform, though he’s ditched the tie and the outer layers, still in his crisp white shirt and dress pants. You’re just wearing some old loungewear, an oversized sweater that hangs slightly off of your shoulder and a pair of sweats. It makes you feel shyer than normal, the contrast of how the two of you must look together, but he just smiles pleasantly.
“What are you up to?” he muses, toying slightly with the hem of your sweater. You lift your toothbrush to his gaze.
“Heading to brush my teeth… wash my face… that sort of stuff,” you shrug, averting your eyes to one of the paintings on the wall by the staircase. He hums in acknowledgement, his finger dipping slightly under your sweater, brushing innocently against the skin of your side.
“I suppose that means you’re once again too busy for a chat,” he mutters with a resigned tone, but he’s smiling in a way that tells you he isn’t feeling all that down at all. You open your mouth to answer, but he interjects. “Unless I join you,” he muses with a grin.
“Join me?”
“Yes, actually that’s a fine idea… let's go, shall we?” he chuckles, guiding you by a hand on your waist toward one of the bathrooms. You follow silently, feeling a little bewildered. The two of you enter the bathroom, he flicks on the lights with a finger and clicks the lock, making you tense a little. He just smiles, coming to stand behind you as you wet your toothbrush at the sink. You look up, meeting his eye in the mirror, before quickly averting your gaze again. He looks unbelievably smug, like he’s got you where he wants you and you realise with a start as his arms snake around your waist, that he has. His fingers gather up your hair, pushing it gently over one of your shoulders, baring one side of your neck to him. His breaths are warm as they wash over your neck, he presses himself against you, watching you in the mirror. You continue silently brushing your teeth, staring down into the sink as his nose nudges at the underside of your ear. “You smell lovely,” he hums, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been waiting so long to get you alone,” he presses his lips softly to the skin of your neck. You blush deeply, dipping down for a moment to spit your toothpaste froth out. He seems completely undeterred, holding you even closer as you straighten back up. You gasp, your eyes widening as you feel something hard against your lower back. He chuckles deeply. “Do you feel what you do to me?” You nod without words and he smirks. He peppers more soft kisses up and down your neck, making his way down to your bare shoulder and back up again. Through the reflection of the mirror, you watch his lips latch onto your neck, sucking gently. His eyes open to meet yours as he leaves a tangible mark on you, evidence that you’d let him this close without so much as a protest.
“What are you doing?” you question finally, but it’s already too late. Withdrawing from you slightly, he presses soothing kisses to the newly forming bruise on your neck. It’s clear he’s ignoring your question, enjoying the look on your face as you watch him, taking in the size of the mark he’s left.
“Want another, my darling? They look perfect on you, don’t they?” he purrs, nuzzling at your skin. Your eyes skim your neck in the reflection, watching as he leaves several smaller marks on your skin. His hands venture just beneath your sweater once again, skimming the skin above your waistband. He looks completely engrossed in you and you can’t help but feel his admiration of your body pooling in your stomach. “Can I take this off of you?” he murmurs. You hesitate, watching him in the mirror. He looks up to meet your eye, grinning smugly as he notices your breath hitching. He pushes your sweater up slightly, a reminder of his question.
“Yeah,” you breathe. He’s tugging the sweater over your head in a fraction of a second, discarding it onto the sink counter. You avert your eyes from the mirror as your topless form comes into view, feeling weird to be looking at yourself like this. His hands snake worshipfully up over your stomach to cup your breasts. You make a tiny noise of pleasure as he does this and he grunts in response. He’s watching you reflection as he kneads at your soft flesh, continuing to shower your neck with kisses.
“Been wanting this more than you understand,” he mumbles against your ear. “Been thinking of you every moment since I got here,” he brushes his fingers over your nipples gently, making you gasp. “I’ve never felt so needy in my life,” One arm remains around you, cupping and kneading your breast, the other snakes down and starts to push down your sweats. The waistband is loose so they fall down to your thighs with minimal effort, he helps them the rest of the way down. “Step out,” he whispers gently, you do as you’re told and step out of them. He kicks them aside and presses his rock hard arousal against your rear, letting out a little hiss. His hands leave you just long enough for him to yank off his own clothes, seemingly with little regard for whether the garments survive this encounter. He presses back against you, working his thumbs into the sides of your panties. “Will you let me have you, my angel?” he exhales shakily, teasing his fingers against the lace edge of your panties, waiting for your permission. His angel, the words echo in your mind, they feel both enticing and decidedly dangerous in some way.
“Have me,” you whisper back, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His eyes look almost blackened with lust, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. He sighs in relief, bending you slightly against the sink counter, you prop yourself up on your hands as he presses desperate kisses between your shoulder blades, tugging your panties down slowly. Your face is dangerously close to your reflection and you try your best to avoid your own eye as he positions himself behind you, arms wrapping around you securely.
“Thank you, my angel,” he coos, pressing against your entrance gently and grunting softly at the feeling. His hands hold you in place as your body tries to twitch away at the sudden sensation. He shushes you gently as he begins to press forward into you, your back arches and your lips fall open in an elongated moan. His eyes are glued on your reflection as your face twists in pleasure, your body welcoming him in like a treasured guest. “Perfect,” he sighs. “You look and feel perfect,” he begins to rock his hips gently, watching your eyelids flutter and your teeth bite at your lower lip. “Look at you,” he murmurs, taking ahold of your chin and turning your head so you meet the eye of your reflection. “Look how well you’re taking me,” he grunts as his actions speed up, his hand moving down to your hip to keep you in place as he thrusts. You blush at the sight of yourself, looking utterly sinful. You’re flushed all down your neck, your skin glimmering with perspiration, your pupils blown. You jolt forward with each of his thrusts, glancing up at his intense expression in the mirror as he watches you like you’re a gift from heaven. He grips your hips tighter. “My perfect angel,” he growls, pulling you back against him at an increasingly rapid pace. You throw your head back for a moment and you feel his hand on the back of your head, tangling in your hair, angling your head back down. “Keep your eyes on you,”
“Michael…” you whine, half in embarrassment, half in pleasure. He just speeds up, pressing his chest to your back, leaning his chin on your shoulder. You watch each other's faces in the reflection, both twisted in ecstasy. He grunts louder and louder, his thrusts growing harsher as he approaches his peak. His hands grip you hard, leaving fingertip indents. You whine and cry in pleasure as he ravishes you, you see tears of pleasure forming in your eyes in the mirror and feel utterly pathetic, though unable to do anything about it. He leans forward to kiss at your cheek, muttering sweet praises against your skin that send your mind reeling.
“Come for me, my angel, show me how you’re feeling, you’re doing so well,” he coaxes in your ear. Suddenly, as if something has possessed you, you scream out, your whole body arching and shaking. You sob loudly as you come around his cock, making him fall apart in tandem. He bites down on your shoulder, growling and shivering furiously as he empties into you. You collapse forward, your cheek pressing against the cool surface of the mirror, giving your overheated face some much needed relief. You pant, trying to blink away the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes. He withdraws from you, but continues to hold you against his chest, kissing all over your shoulders. After a moment of composing himself he chuckles breathlessly against your ear. “I think the entire academy just heard you fraternising with the enemy,” he taunts, nipping at your ear.
“Oh God…” you hang your head, his lips follow you, pressing against your lips for the first time. You kiss back despite yourself, desperate now for his touch.
“I’m your God now, my sinful little angel,”
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hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
Flufftober 10 - Michael x Sweet little witch Reader
Yup, so, after several months, and almost a year for this AU!, Michael Langdon is back on this blog !
Living only surrounded by women could have been a dream or a nightmare for a man.
A dream for a single man.
A nightmare, if we add that these women were all witches, and for the most part annoying and slutty girls.
But Michael wasn't a normal man, and he was dating the cutest witches of them all, so while it wasn't always easy, it was an acceptable situation.
Miss Cordelia had become a bit like his second mother. Myrtle Snow, though she refused to admit it, was the grandmother who adored him and showered him with gifts whenever she had the chance.
And the other witches were his sisters.
But they were Y/N's sisters first, and of course, early in their relationship, they had been suspicious of him, not wanting Michael to play with their friend's feelings and hurt her.
He could understand that, even if it was a bit vexing. He found it perfectly logical and admirable that this great family fiercely protected all of its members, and so he had agreed to answer their questions and pass their silly tests, to prove that he was serious, that he really loved Y/N, and that he was worthy to be with her.
"I think I have a say in this, right ?" replied the sweet little witch, who also understood her sisters' fears, but didn't like them getting into her business like this, or annoying Michael who had already had enough problems like that in his life.
"He's just going to pass the tests to show that he'll be a good boyfriend. It won't be as hard as what he had to do to become the Supreme, but it will be for a better reason !"
"... No one has ever been through these ordeals. You didn't ask Kyle for anything. And there are several other couples in the house."
"Yes. Lesbians. It's different. And Kyle is untouchable, Zoe would kill us. Come on Michael, unless you don't love our sister enough."
"I'm ready."
Michael wasn't really afraid of what they had prepared for him. He was powerful. He wasn't really human. And he truly loved Y/N. With the strength that her love gave him, he could do anything. Even more if she stood by his side.
"No !" Madison said, clapping his hand, as he went to take Y/N's. "No touchy ! Not until you've passed the tests."
"... Alright. Let's be done with it quickly then. What do you want me to do ? Go to hell ? Resist the fire ? Spawn gold ?"
"Oh, you didn't get it, my poor Michael. It's not a test of magic, but of trust. To find out if you are family. So you're going to go and steal one of Cordelia's jewelry first."
"... No."
"Good answer ! We don't steal from loved ones. Well, not the powerful ones at least. Now you're going to tell us a secret. Something shameful ! Watch out, we'll know if you're lying."
"... It's ridiculous."
"Do you want to be with Y/N or not ?"
"... Shameful how ?"
The famous trials quickly turned into what looked like a slumber party where a boy had been invited by mistake, or had gone to please his beloved girlfriend, who had not been able to defend him against the other girls.
After confessing that he had slept with a plush until today, only stopping to replace the teddy bear with Y/N, Michael let the witches play with his hair, paint his nails, put make up on him, and he even agreed to put on a dress.
If it made them happy.
Even if he didn't find it amusing to be treated like a doll by these idiots, he wasn't ashamed of what they did to him, binary constructions being a stupid invention of society.
He knew he was still as handsome and strong, even in this outfit. He was even more handsome than most of the girls present, who also knew it, and must have felt a little envious when they saw him.
They must also envy Y/N, because in the end, he was hers, and only hers. Michael let them play with him only so he could be with his sweet little witch forever.
Like him, Y/N did not approve of her sisters' behaviour, but she knew there was no point fighting against them. If he proved that they could trust him, then Michael could stay without them bothering him later and they would be happy.
For the final ordeal, Michael had to swear, spilling his blood, that he would never betray the Coven or Y/N, and that he would be turned into a slug if he even dared to even think about it. He did so without the slightest hesitation.
"Good, pretty Michael, you're one of us now. You can kiss the bride."
"Very funny." he sighed, finally taking Y/N's hand. "Let's go to our room my love."
"Yes. You need a bath." his sweet witch sneered, touching his pink cheek.
"Why ? Don't you find me 'pretty' like that ?"
"Of course. Always. But they haven't stopped touching you, I'm sure you want a bath."
She was right. And even though he was pretty sexy with that hairstyle, that mascara and that red lipstick, he had fun kissing Y/N everywhere, leaving marks that would force her to wash with him, he wanted her to the only one to touch him from now on.
like… hawthorne!michael hearing whispers of crushes and valentines at hawthorne… cheeks going pink because he has that one person in mind to be his valentine 🥺 practicing in the mirror how he wants to ask them to be his valentine… or like shy!hawthorne!michael who can not imagine facing his crush to tell them he likes them 🥺 but… thinks valentine’s day is the perfect opportunity… so he manages to conjure a thousand red roses… filling their room with it… maybe their crush never expressed interest in roses or flowers… but michael saw it in a movie and thought they would love it too 👉👈 and his crush just 😽🥺 loving the surprise (michael thinks no one knows about his crush but… he gets sooo flustered around them is ridiculously obvious - especially to the object of his affection!) and they’re so 😽 because michael got the courage to make the day special for them… maybe even surprise him with a kissie 🥺👉👈 ahh.. or vice versa with his crush doing something sweet for him! he would lose™️ it.
okay and outpost!michael (who maybe doesn’t have a lot of knowledge on the holiday) kinda rolling his eyes a little at the concept 🙄 doesn’t get why humans need a special day dedicated to love (especially when he devotes every day to making sure his significant other knows how much he loves them) but… still finds himself spoiling his baby 😌 no bc the thought of clueless!outpost!michael dressed in black from head to toe in the valentine’s day aisle at a CVS, brows furrowed, trying to decide which box of candies he should get them 🤨🥺 and ofc ends up leaving with 30 boxes of candy, 50 cheesy balloons, and at least 20 dozen floral arrangements 😭 and the cashier trying to make a joke w him about how much he’s taking but he’s just 😐💞 and omfg him struggling to get all the damn balloons in his car… long blonde hair and balloon strings flying everywhere sksksk
what i’m trying to say is i love michael langdon going overboard on valentine’s day (mostly bc he’s a little clueless about the holiday).
Summary: Michael can taste the innocence that seeps off the reader’s soul and it’s just too tempting to not take a bite. (Hawthorne!Michael x Innocent!F!Reader)
Requested by Anon: “Could you maybe do something smutty where hawthorne!Michael Langdon falls in love with a super innocent reader, and takes her virginity? And he has a corruption kink...”
Wandering through the halls of Hawthorne, Michael finds himself walking with an unknown purpose. There’s a call that his body and mind need to answer. It’s an urge he has no control over and with each step his resolve to fight it weakens. Breaching the open doorway, all his questions are answered.
It’s you calling for him, unknowingly forcing him to seek you out. Since you arrived at Hawthorne, Michael’s attention has solely been focused on figuring you out. At first, he thought your aloofness was caused by your loyalty to your Supreme but he has come to realize that you are naturally a non-confrontational and extremely modest person. It became apparent fairly quickly. Each time someone, even those you know, speak with you, your voice is soft and your cheeks flush.
You reek of purity and Michael loves it. He craves to taste it on your skin and to see you fall apart by the working of his tainted hands. He wants to re-mark your soul with sin. He desires to stain you so heavily that even God could not wash it away.
Minutes tick by slowly as he watches you teeter on a small step stool and gather several large books and grimoires. He takes notice of their titles, ‘Demons and The Underworld’, ‘Conjuring and Demonic Elements’, and other books with similar origins.
Is his little angel interested in the nature of beasts like him?
“Let me help you get these back to your room.”
Like a spooked animal, you jump at the sound of his voice piercing the quietness. You nearly lose your footing but Michael’s hands hold your waist steady. He doesn’t remove them even after you are safely standing on solid ground.
“Oh, that’s okay! I wouldn’t want you to waste your time.”
He tuts at you, explaining that helping you would be his honor. Hoping to hide your cheeks which burn in embarrassment, your head remains downcast. Even so, you can feel his smoldering gaze as he waits for you to hand over the items you still carry.
“Thank you.”
The hallways seem to grow longer and more winding as you both travel towards your assigned guest room. They seem to mock you, making your uncomfortableness about the situation all the more unbearable.
“You’re interested in demonology?”
“Yes. The library here is so expensive. We don’t have as many books back at home. Especially not these. I’ve always been fascinated by...” Your sentence drops off as you realize you are rambling.
“Hmm?”
“Oh, it’s not important.” Thankfully, your door comes into sight, saving you from further embarrassment. “Thank you, Michael.”
A frown weighs heavily on his lips. He needs more. The walk and simple conversation weren’t enough to satisfy him. He needs you.
Opening the door, you turn to takes the items from him but he doesn’t relinquish them, “Here, I’ll put them on your desk.”
It’s not a question. It’s not an offer but he allows you to consider it. And when you move aside to let him step into the room, he knows he has you. You’ve unwittingly invited him in. You let in the darkness and now he will smother you in it.
“Michael?”
“Yes?”
“Um, you’re staring.”
“Do you hate it?”
He watches as you fidget nervously. Your fingers instinctively play with your necklace.
“N-No, I don’t.” You finally meet his gaze, all the control he’s kept perfectly maintained over his inner desire snaps.
When he steps closer, the beautiful eyes he’s staring back at widen. His hand caresses your cheek tentatively and his mouth ghosts over yours, “would you hate it if I kissed you?”
“No.”
Your lips are more perfect than he ever imagined. The sensual slowness of his kiss is overtaken by need. The power of it nearly sends you stumbling back but Michael is there, again, to steady you. It’s his turn to moan when your fingers thread through his hair.
You can feel him toying with the buttons of your blouse and when the first one pops open you grab at his hands.
“I’ve never...”
There you go looking away again. Michael listens to you but his eyes are focused on the area of new skin exposed to him.
“Do you want to stop?”
“N-No, I just don’t know what t-to do.”
“Then let me do all the work, hm? Let me show you?”
“Okay.”
It’s a mere whisper but it’s all Michael needs to continue. If he’s going to bathe your darkness, he wants you to willingly sacrifice yourself. To know a being such as yourself is openly offering him this opportunity sends electricity coursing through his body.
His kiss is fierce this time, stealing your breath away completely. It sends your mind spiraling and all you can focus on is him, the way he feels, and the touch of his fingers against your body. He takes his time underdressing you, wanting to savor and worship each new area of exposed skin.
Maintaining the kiss, Michael walks you both back to the bed. You let out a surprised gasp when the back of your knees hit the edge and you fall back onto it. Like prey, you have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide as he calculates his next steps. You’re a sight to behold. And although bare before him, your shyness does not waver. One arm moves to cover your chest while your free hand attempts to hide your womanhood from him.
Michael growls, not appreciating your act of modesty. With a simple swipe of his hand, an invisible power forces your arms above your head and parts your thighs just enough for him to see how wet you are.
“You’re so perfect, (Y/N).”
When he feels your struggling end, and he’s sure you won’t curl into yourself again, he releases you. You stay as he has positioned you, waiting obediently for him.
You inquisitively stare up at him, too enthralled to look away as he removes his own clothing. When his cock springs free, you squirm on the bed, your thighs rub together.
“Will it fit?”
He fists his length, groaning at the innocence of your question, “Don’t worry. You were made for me.”
As he steps closer, your eyes follow, never leaving his figure. His knee sinks into the mattress between your legs and you unconsciously spread your thighs to accommodate him. He smiles, realizing your body and mind are giving into him. His thumb collects the dribble that has leaked from his excitement, using it as a lubricant to pump himself faster.
Your fingers tangle in the sheets as you watch him. His thumb moves to swipe across your lips. He traces them, smearing himself on you, and tainting your mouth. ‘That won’t be the only hole of yours tainted, tonight.’ He thinks, observing the way your tongue shyly peeks out to lick at his digit.
When he’s done giving you a taste, he pulls away, and much to your disappointment, his weight moves from atop you as well.
“Touch yourself for me.”
You hesitate, your fingers twitching to follow his instruction but your mind tells you to slow down. You want this. You want him.
Whatever the hesitancy, you overcome it. Wanting to please his every wish and whim, your hand slides down your body, running along the valley and curves as it makes its way to its final destination. When the pads of your finger meet the wetness of your core, you whimper and peer up at Michael, gaging his reaction. He’s completely enamored by your display. His cock jumps at the sight of your fingers slipping through your folds.
“Open yourself up. Let me see you.”
Face flushing with heat, you do as he commands. Your legs fall open further and your shaky fingers pull your petals apart so he can see all of you. You’re so exposed, even more so when his eyes intently examine the sight of your pussy on display.
“Michael, p-please do something.”
Heart thundering in your chest, you don’t hear his response but do see him stalk forward in rushed steps. His fingers brush against your own as he settles between your legs. Michael grins devilishly when his digit dips into you and a yelp escapes you. The weight of the experiences bears down upon you and no longer can you hold yourself upright. Falling back onto the bed, you allow yourself to be overcome by the pleasure he is so graciously providing.
Michael’s words of encouragement sear into your mind and his fingers stretch you in ways you never thought possible. Everything he does is overwhelming you and your senses can not keep up.
Soft pants fanning over your core bring you back to reality. You jerk, surprised by how close his mouth is to your center. So close yet so far. “I won’t do this just yet. We’ll take our time tonight but just know I can’t wait to taste you.” Michael chuckles before lightly kissing your clit.
Moaning, you peer up at him through long lashes. You look completely wrecked already but you need more.
““Such a good girl for me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? I need you to use your words. Tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you.”
“P-Please, I...I want you to...” You huff, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. Your face warms considerably, not used to having to be so forward, “I want your cock! P-Please, Michael.”
It’s not the request that spurs him. No, it’s the drawl of his name rolling off your tongue. It’s the way you say it breathlessly, full of innocence and neediness, that has him pouncing on you. The tip of his cock sneaks between the folds of your pussy. The prodding of it at your entrance leaves you writhing in anticipation. Michael steals a kiss from you, distracting you as he begins to enter. The feel of his lips can only do so much before the painful stretch takes over.
“Relax, my angel.”
It takes several more minutes before he fully bottoms out but when he does you both moan in unison. Your velvety walls flutter around him. It takes so much of Michael’s restraint not to move. For you, he’ll control himself this time. Your hips rock back onto his and he takes that as his cue to move. His thrusts are slow and steady.
You moan beneath him, requesting and demanding more of him. Never wanting to disappoint, Micahel gives in. Tilting your pelvis for a better angle, he increases the speed of his thrusts. The head of his cock kisses the deepest part of your pussy. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Michael whines are the feeling of your clawing at him.
The squelch that follows each of his thrusts signifies just how aroused you. The sound is accompanied by the slapping of skins and your moans.
“Michael. I feel so good. I’m going to...”
“I know. I know you are. You’re going to show the pretty face you make when you cum around my cock.”
The way your breasts bounce every time he thrusts into you has his mouth-watering. But before he can wrap his tongue around one of your perky nipples, his eyes catch the glittering silver cross hanging around your neck. It moves in time with him and acts as a reminder that there’s still one spot of purity in you that he has yet to blot out.
He seethes at its presence upon your body. He wants to ruin you so it would be sacrilege to place any other holy object on your body. He wants to rip the cross off your neck and he does. As the chain snaps, your back arches off the bed, and your orgasm washes over you. You wail in his name and chant it like a prayer. Michael follows behind you, pounding into you once, twice, and then cums deep within you.
Throwing the necklace across the room, he is satisfied when he hears it clatter to the floor, “You’re all mine now. Your body, your mind, your heart are all mine.”
“Yes, I’m yours forever.”
Tagging the Lovelies: @moth3atspussy @brithedemonspawn @annikathebananana
Something Strange In The Air-Hawthorne!Michael Langdon x Reader
Word Count: 7162
Summary: Michael will be staying at Miss Robichaux’s for a few months leading up to competing against the Reader in the Seven Wonders Test.
Warnings: NSFW, cursing, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, reader blacks out, also there’s a snake, if you’re scared of snakes maybe skip down to the last section bc pretty much all the others involve a snake, and a snake bite, Hawthorne!Michael deserves his own warning, yeah, also this is very much not proofread so, be prepared for that
A/N: This is written in honor of @guiltyfiend bc, you right, I think everyone wants to dom Hawthorne!Michael a little bit. This took me forever to write and is stupidly long (we love waxing poetic for no reason) but I hope y’all like it!
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There was something strange in the air.
There was always something strange in the air, of course. Strange was probably too subjective, anyway. You’d never quite managed to find a place where the air was simply air, and in a city as electric as New Orleans, at a school as volatile as Miss Robichaux’s, there was always something prickling you, needling its way through your veins. It was why you took the time to meditate in the first place, to give you a chance to sort through it all, when you didn’t have to deal with physical world interrupting, when it was simply you and your mind and the universe playing a game of chicken, seeing which would bow to which, in the end.
But there was something that was a different kind of strange today, something that you hadn’t ever felt before.
No, you’d felt it before, you certainly had, but something you’d never felt quite so strongly, that was it.
It was a deep, poignant, throat catching sense of doom.
A hum rippled through the air, someone was taking a deep breath, and you knew in your mind that they were about to call out to you.
“Y/N,” It was Zoe, and there was a grit in her voice hidden so deep she probably wasn’t even aware that she was already annoyed, “The warlocks are here!”
Yes, that was it. That was the presence. The warlocks were here, and more importantly, Michael Langdon. The others had known the sense of doom too, the Supreme Cordelia had even had a vision about it. Cordelia was in fact probably the only person who felt the doom in a similar way to how you did, with her prophetic powers. The others felt it because it was so strong, but you were doubtful that it overwhelmed them like it did you, that they felt it so deeply they could practically taste it.
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was that now, you needed to go meet this mysterious Boy Wonder that had made some of the women you respected most in the world, leaders in your coven, shake in their boots.
You opened your eyes, finally, your head tilted back to look at the sky. After a moment, you slid down the steepled roof of the school, leaping nimbly to the nearest tree, scampering to the ground as quickly as you could. You took a step, but something squishy was under your foot, and you jumped slightly as you heard a loud hiss.
“Fuck,” You muttered to yourself, kneeling down, coming face to face with a snake, coiled back in preparation to strike, white mouth opened wide. You waved your hand in front of it, once, and as you watched your magic flow a sense of calm through the snake, you reached out to let it sniff you, smiling at it gently, “Hello, little friend. What are you doing so far from the water?”
The animal flicked its tongue out twice, slowly bringing its head back down, touching its face to your hand gently.
“I like you,” Moving slowly, you picked the snake up, looking levelly into the slitted eyes, “You wanna stay with me for a bit?”
The cottonmouth raised and lowered its head, and you pulled your hood back to rest it gently inside, the snake nestling instantly into the fabric.
With that, you hurried to the front of the school, where you saw four men and five women waiting for you.
The women, you knew. Cordelia, the Supreme, stood at the head of the line, her shoulders rolled back. Next to her was Myrtle Snow, then Zoe, and next to her were Madison and Queenie, the witches that Michael had rescued.
The men, you didn’t know, but in an instant you recognized which one was Michael Langdon.
He was beautiful, with fluffed, golden curls, piercing blue eyes, a cherubic face that held a smile so lovely most people would probably miss the sneer holding it up. He wore the Hawthorne uniform, which you’d only seen in photos, a black bow tied at his throat, his jacket thrown over his shoulder.
They had already made introductions, it seemed, all turning to watch you approach.
“There you are,” Cordelia gave you a small, reassuring smile as you moved to stand beside her, “Gentlemen, this is Y/N Y/L/N, one of our brightest witches, who we believe may be the next Supreme. Y/N, this is John Henry Moore, Behold Chablis, Grand Chancellor Ariel Augustus, and Michael Langdon.”
You nodded confidently, smiling at John Henry Moore as you shook his hand, a slightly smaller smile at Behold Chablis, your face dropping all emotion as you shook hands with Ariel Augustus, almost coughing as you were hit with a rush of negative energy.
“Did you just fall from a tree?” Ariel questioned, gripping your hand tightly.
You concentrated on making yourself smile again, and once you had a grin securely in place you shrugged, “I jumped, actually. I was on the roof, but jumping straight off the roof seems like a good way to end up injured, and I don’t like to transmutate immediately before and after I meditate.”
“Why were you on the roof?” John Henry Moore asked, looking amused.
You almost responded, but Behold spoke before you could, “Didn’t she just say? She was meditating.”
Myrtle moved behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “Our dear Y/N is very sensitive to the vibrations of the universe. I believe it’s what makes her so good at playing my theremin. She meditates to sort the different callings that pull at her.”
Nodding, you turned to the mysterious Michael Langdon, watching him. He stared back, cocking his head to the side, and after a moment he extended his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” He said coolly, his voice strangely melodic.
You shook firmly, not releasing when the shake was done, not intending to fully end the shake until he moved to end it himself, “Hello, Boy Wonder. It’s nice to- no, actually it’s not particularly nice to meet you. But I’m happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard lots of stories, and I’m grateful for what you’ve done for our coven by returning Madison and Queenie to us.”
His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth as if to object before suddenly jerking his hand back, frowning, “I’m sorry, but what is that?”
What was he talking about?
A slight hiss next to your ear explained it. The snake had crawled up to your shoulder, and you glanced to see that it was looking at the Grand Chancellor. It seemed that the snake didn’t trust Ariel Augustus either.
Ariel jumped, staring, his hand raising up and mouth opening, and you could tell that some type of spell was on the tip of his tongue.
“No,” You snapped, reaching a hand up to the snakes head, and Ariel stumbled backwards, pushed back by magic that you hadn’t even meant to send out, “Sorry. It’s a snake. A cottonmouth, although I’ve never seen one this far from water. I just found him. Stepped on him, actually, although he didn’t take it too personally. I mean, he almost bit me, but I wouldn’t have particularly blamed him if he did, and after I calmed him down with a little charm he seemed happy to come with me. I’d like to keep him,” You turned away from the warlocks, glancing at Cordelia, “May I? I’ve already thought of a name for him.”
Madison, Queenie, and Zoe had all stepped away from you, anxiety thrumming through the air from their direction, but Myrtle chuckled, and Cordelia nodded, something inquisitive just behind her eyes, “You may, so long as you take good care of him, and so long as your new roommate doesn’t mind.”
You whipped back around to Michael, beaming, “What do you think, Boy Wonder? Can Richard stay with us?”
A deep frown etched into his features, which he looked annoyingly pretty in spite of, and he turned to Cordelia and the warlocks, “What does she mean?”
“We’re happy to have you staying with us for the next few months leading up to the Seven Wonders test, but there is currently an overflow of witches. Every room is currently occupied, some by multiple girls,” Zoe stepped in to explain, “Y/N had space for a roommate. I’m surprised that the Grand Chancellor didn’t tell you.”
Ariel shrugged, mumbling something about it not seeming important, and Michael looked at you, horrified, as you slung an arm around his shoulder, “I probably could’ve swapped around with someone, but I thought it’d be fun if we bunked together. Give us a chance to get to know each other better, y’know? So c’mon, Mikey, can we keep the snake?”
“Do not call me that,” He snapped, shrugging you off of him and adjusting his collar, “I don’t care about the snake. I don’t like you.”
“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry,” Blowing a kiss in his direction, you whispered a celebration to the snake before turning back to your sister witches, “Let’s give them a tour!”
You were pleased with this interaction. He was taken aback by you, and you could tell just from a single glance that Michael was not one who was easily taken aback. His energy shifted, something hard to determine just under the surface. You were curious to see what you could learn about him, before the two of you competed against each other during the test of the Seven Wonders.
Alongside that was the strong feeling that at some point you would either fuck him or beat him up, and you found that you were also curious to see which it would be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael Langdon was an asshole.
You’d managed to catch him by surprise the day you’d first met him, to get him to stumble, but by the time you’d walked through the front door of the school he had found his composure, and you hadn’t managed to see him without it since then. He was always well put together.
Alongside being an asshole.
The other witches in your coven were finding themselves swayed by him, you could tell. They didn’t want a male Supreme, but they were fading into his easy charm and good looks. Most spent their time flirting with him, and he seemed incredibly smug at all the attention. They didn’t seem to mind how clearly indifferent he was to them, not particularly harsh, but also never making an effort to be nice, either.
The only person he actively disliked? You.
You couldn’t blame him, of course, but he was a huge pain in the ass.
For example, he was stealing your study room.
There were several areas in the school where students could study, of course. Most of the girls just did it in their rooms, and there was one room at the back of the house that was your favorite, holding a large table with bookshelves on either side and a large picture window opposite the door. You were the only one who used it, because there were nicer ones with tables that didn’t have splinters and light bulbs that weren’t constantly flickering no matter how often they were changed.
And then Michael Langdon showed up, and started hogging the room.
It wasn’t as though you really needed the full study room to yourself, of course. But he took up so much space.
He spread books along the entire table, and he always used his magic to adjust the lighting and change the temperature.
“Boy Wonder,” You sighed one day, about a week and a half after his arrival, “Can you please give me some space on the table?”
Michael glanced up at you, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips although he kept the rest of his face neutral, “What’s wrong, little witch? Are you mad that I beat you in here for once?”
“I’m mad that you take up all the room,” You snapped, “And that you’ve made it fucking freezing in here.”
“I can make it snow, too. Wanna see?”
You kinda did, actually, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
“No, I want you to put the temperature back so it’s warm enough that I can’t see my own breath. I can literally see the heat waves rolling off of you, Boy Wonder,” And you could, and it was really fucking weird, in a very interesting sort of way.
Still not bothering to turn to you, Michael shuffled his books around until there was a new one in front of him, “Little witch, why do you think I’d give a fuck what temperature you want it to be?”
“Because, Boy Wonder, Richard can’t handle this cold,” You gestured to the snake who was wrapped around your shoulders, shivering along with you.
Shrugging, Michael stood up finally, walking over to you and reaching a hand out. You stared for a moment, slowly reaching your own out and pressing your palm to his, and the two of you stared at each other for a solid minute and a half, his hand searing hot against your own cold palm, and when he finally pulled away he raised a curious eyebrow at you, “I was reaching for the snake.”
He still wore that ridiculous fucking Hawthorne uniform, and looking at him in it made you wonder once again how well you would fare in beating him up.
“Oh. Shit, sorry,” You said hurriedly, pulling Richard off your shoulders and down around your arm, but then you paused and looked at Michael, your voice heavy with suspicion, “Why do you want him?”
“I’m warmer than you. He can hang out with me and you can go study in our room. Or you can take him back to the room and study with in there with him. Either way,” He said simply, as though you were a bit stupid for not knowing that already.
Glaring, you took a step closer to him, trying your best to be intimidating, “I can’t go study in our room, actually, because your shit is all over my desk, too. And I don’t want Richard to spend all day stuck in the room. He likes going other places. Just make some damn space.”
Michael took two steps forward and suddenly your back was against the wall. He looked closely at you for a minute, and then he reached his hand out again, drawing his thumb across your lower lip, “Why do you always wear lipstick?”
“What?” You stared up at him, dumbfounded.
“You wear lipstick a lot,” Michael pulled his hand away, glancing at the residue left behind on his thumb, and then turned it back to you, “I’m curious why. Can you get this for me?”
“What?”
Rolling his eyes, Michael gripped your chin, pushing his thumb against your lips until they parted. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and you closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to concentrate on what the actual hell was happening.
It wasn’t even lipstick, it was tinted lip balm.
His energy had reached a point that was especially strange, still dark and angry like always, but with a type of curiosity to it as well. He was wondering something, and that made you wonder what he was wondering, and there was such a loop of wondering going on that you didn’t even realize that your tongue was swirling around him, didn’t even notice the slight shift in his demeanor as he pushed the two more of his fingers into your mouth, shoving them down your throat.
What the fuck?
You shifted, trying to reach up and push him away, but his magic pinned your hands at your sides and all you could do was gag around him, frantically struggling. Magic, magic, do something with your magic to get him to stop, but you couldn’t get it to work, couldn’t get anything to happen. You bit down, desperate, and he hissed as he raised his other hand to your chin, holding it pulled down so you couldn’t bite anymore, scratching his nails gently across your jaw as he did so.
“You look good like this, do you know that? Gagging. I think you were made for it. It’s interesting, how aware you are of energies, of vibrations in the universe, and yet I don’t think you’re even conscious of the energy you send out. How desperate you are for me. You aren’t aware of it because you don’t want to be. I can read your mind, little witch. You may not like me, but you do want to fuck me. You wear revealing clothes and you act like you’re doing it for yourself, like you’re empowered, but you’re not. You act high and mighty, as though you’re wise and powerful, but really you’re just a dumb, depraved, desperate little whore who wants nothing more than to be dicked down by your rival.”
What the fuck was he talking about? That wasn’t true!
Was it?
He was pretty fucking hot, you had to admit, but you didn’t want to get dicked down by Michael Langdon.
You couldn’t want that.
Fuck.
Finally, finally, when you thought you were going to pass out or puke or maybe both, he pulled completely away from you, stepping back.
You doubled over, catching your breath, and when you straightened up your magic was finally working again, sending Michael flying across the room until he was pressed against the window, and you gasped, “What the fuck, Langdon? What the actual fucking fuck?”
Michael tried to shrug, but his shoulders wouldn’t move, and after a moment you released him, wishing that he would maybe fall over, but he just smoothly stepped forward, making his way back to you, “I’ll raise the temperature back to normal. And here,” He waved his hand in the air and the books in front of one of the seats at the table flew to other spots, clearing you an area, “I suppose there’s room for us to share the table. No promises on my kindness extending to tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll beat you here tomorrow,” You said, thinking through each of your words carefully as you spoke, “And you can suck my Dick, Langdon.”
Richard raised his head up and down as you set him on the table, slithering closer to Michael as if in emphasis to your point.
“Good one, little witch. That’s very clever, for you,” He chuckled, taking the seat next to the one he had cleared space for you at and sliding his fingers into his own mouth, tilting his head back as he cleaned them off and then pulling them back out with a flourish, shooting you a condescending look, “Are you going to sit? If you’re just here to stare, I’d prefer it if you’d leave. You can be very distracting sometimes.
Numbly, you took a seat next to him, trying hard to ignore his cocky grin, and pulled a book out of your bag.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sharing a bedroom with Michael Langdon presented its own challenges. He was an asshole in private just as much as he was in front of others, and it was pretty fucking annoying.
“Are you ever gonna go to fucking sleep?” Michael snapped at you, pulling his pillow over his eyes.
“There’s too much noise,” Sighing, you cracked your knuckles, letting Richard the snake trail across your legs, “And not enough noise, at the same time. Am I really bothering you that much? I turned the lights out and everything.”
He growled, removing the pillow from his head and squinting across the room at you through the darkness, “Doesn’t matter, does it, little witch bitch? You’re still a pain in the ass whether the light is on or off. Can’t you just ignore the noise?”
“Fuck you, Langdon, you don’t know shit. I can’t just-shit! Ow, motherfucker,” You hissed, jumping, as Richard bit your finger, “Why the fuck would you do that you dick?”
“What happened?” Michael straightened up, “Y/N?”
The snake was slithering away already, and as he did you were flooded with a strange feeling, the metallic taste of magic in the air. Richard hadn’t bitten you of his own accord, someone had made it happen, and that someone was probably Michael.
“Y/N,” He repeated, “Come over here.”
Your feet carried you to his bed without your brain guiding them, and you dropped to the mattress next to him, holding out a shaky hand, “Richard bit me.”
Michael wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his large hand engulfing yours as he brought it closer to his face, examining carefully, “Yeah, you did. Weird. You feeling okay?”
You weren’t. Your mind was hazy, and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t the snakebite that did it, you could just tell, it was something deep in your chest and spreading through your body, making you feel like you were in a great fog, and you stared at him, “I don’t feel great, actually.”
“Would you like me to fix it?” Pressing a kiss to your palm, Michael raised an eyebrow at you.
“I, uh, I don’t know what you, what you mean by-” You cut off, closing your eyes to concentrate, rather than letting yourself get lost looking at Michael.
Dammit, why did he have to be so fucking pretty? It was such a pain.
Night was the only time you saw him looking casual, too. Night and early morning, when he was in bed.
Seeing him unbuttoned like this made a strange flip turn in the pit of your stomach.
“I can make the pain go away, little witch,” His voice was hoarse and whispery, “Just say the word.”
“Okay,” You breathed, even though you probably shouldn’t, you should say no, should pull away, should find a way to fix it yourself or maybe go to Cordelia or one of the other witches for help, you didn’t trust Michael, you shouldn’t trust Michael, but the word came out and you were making eye contact with him and fuck, fuck, fuck what were you doing with your life?
Michael pulled your finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips just below the bite wound, and began sucking gently.
“What... what are you doing?” You asked blearily, unable to break your eyes away from his, “I don’t... I don’t think you can really suck out the venom. I don’t even know if there is venom? He bit so quick, it was more of a nip than anything, I don’t-”
Pulling his head away for a moment, Michael frowned, “Are you ever quiet, little witch? Just hush, for once, and let me make you feel better.”
Why was he being so nice? It wasn’t nice, you knew it wasn’t really, there was some type of trick to this, some type of trick to everything he did, and yet you felt swept away, some how. Overwhelmed, intoxicated, by Michael Langdon.
You nodded, and his lips were around you again, and it was working, you could feel it. The strange pain in your body, that had started to cloud your chest, your throat, stomach, everything, it was fading away.
You weren’t quite sure what was replacing it, as it certainly wasn’t anything you were used to, but it was mostly calming. There was a thrill of adrenaline spiking through you, but something else. Something deeper. There were few emotions that you couldn’t identify, but this was perhaps one of them. Whatever you were feeling, it was not something that you were used to.
When the pain was gone and your head was a bit clearer, you tried to pull your hand away. Michael held firm to your wrist, although he let you ball your fingers into a fist, releasing you from his mouth. “How does that feel?” He cooed, tapping his fingers along your veins.
“Better,” You said slowly, and then, “Weird, though. I feel weird. I want... I’m tired, I think.”
“What do you want?” Michael asked, and there was a smirk on his face that made you want to slap him, and then because your head was still not altogether there, you did slap him.
Your hand, the one he wasn’t holding in place, hit his cheek at an astounding speed, leaving an angry red mark, and before you could even process that you had done so, you threw your leg across his lap, straddling him, and pressed your lips to his.
Releasing your wrist finally, Michael pressed his hands into the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, and you stroked your thumb over the mark on his face, listening to Michael’s growl as you pressed down.
You pulled away after a moment, cupping his face in your hands, panting, “I don’t know why I did that.”
“Which part?” Michael nipped at your bottom lip, smiling a smile that did not soften his eyes at all, “Slapping me? Or kissing me? Because I’ll be honest, I wasn’t fully expecting either of them, little witch bitch.”
“You’ve done something to me,” You mused, beginning to kiss along his throat, “I don’t know what, or how, or why, but there’s something you’ve done. There are a lot of things I want right now.”
“Tell me,” Michael commanded, but then he let out a groan as you brushed your lips over the spot where his jaw met his neck, and his usual suave, intimidating demeanor dropped as you began sucking furiously at the spot. He spoke again, more softly this time, “Stop, tell me.”
Leaning back to glance at him, you smiled sweetly, “Make me, Boy Wonder,” and then you were at it again, leaving a large clump of bruises near his ear.
“Seems like you have feelings for me, little bitch,” With mocking laughter, Michael trailed his hands to your hips, giving a harsh squeeze, “What would your sister witches think?”
“The only feeling I have for you is loathing, Langdon,” You snarled, and in a moment your lips were connected once again, teeth clacking against each other, and when you both paused to catch your breath, you pressed your forehead to his, “Fuck, I really want to suck your cock.”
Michael snorted, “Everyone thinks you’re the future Supreme? You’re just a pathetic little cockslut.”
You ground your hips down against him and reared your hand back, but this time he caught your wrist, glaring, although he bucked slightly against you. “Fuck you, you’re the one who’s all marked up. You’re the one who’s fucking dry humping me. Look at you. You’re the pathetic one.”
“Sure I am,” Michael had a low, snarly chuckle that made a bolt of need shoot through you, and also made you very desperately want to hit him again, but seeming to know what you were thinking, he captured your other hand as well, “Such a fiery thing you are, little witch.”
Scowling, you bit his bottom lip and tugged, licking up the blood that beaded up and began to trickle down his chin. Smiling at the bitter taste, a yawn made its way through you before you could stop it. You felt yourself blushing a little at that, muttering quickly, “Sorry about that. I’m more tired than I thought, I guess. Being this close to you kinda blocks out a lot of the other energy, makes it all a lot quieter.”
“Then let’s sleep.”
You had started to kiss along his collarbones, but you paused at that, murmuring against his skin, “What?”
Michael wrapped his hand around your jaw, pulling you back so that he could look you in the eye, “You heard me, little witch. You’re tired. I am too. As much as I would love to see you gagging on my cock right now, I’d also enjoy getting some sleep. I’m planning to get up relatively early tomorrow to study.”
“I call the study room,” You said quickly, and you hadn’t even realized that Michael had shifted the two of you so that you were laying down, one hand still cupping your jaw, making it a bit difficult to speak, “What are you doing?”
“You really are quite dim, little witch. I’m going to sleep. You should do the same,” His voice was softening, although not in a kind way. It was soft, yes, but commanding, dangerous,and you struggled to keep your eyes open.
Straining against his arms, you tried to stand, “I’ll go back to my bed.”
“You can’t sleep in your bed,” Michael said simply, rolling onto his back, one arm still flung across your waist, holding you in place.
Frowning, you turned your body towards him, curling into his side. He was warm. You didn’t even have a blanket covering you, and already you could feel yourself starting to overheat. You didn’t voice this though, not yet, too confused by the entire interaction to focus on that, “Why do you care so much how I sleep?”
“I don’t,” He said simply, “I care about my sleep. And I’m not going to lose my sleep just because you can’t grasp your own. Now, stop squirming around so much. Are you that worked up?”
“I’m hot,” You snapped.
“And bothered, apparently.”
“Langdon, do you ever shut the fuck up?” You jabbed your elbow into his side, “That’s not the hot I meant and you know it. I’m warm. You’re like a fucking furnace.”
Sighing, getting grumpier by the second, Michael hooked his arm around you and pulled you onto his chest so that you were straddling him once again, arms on either side of his body, head hovering over his chest.
He laughed at the way you yelped, being pulled so suddenly, and his hands rested on your back, bringing one up to guide your head down to rest against his chest, “Did I scare you, little witch?”
“No,” You answered quickly, and then, “Just, this is a weird position.”
“It should be a little cooler for you this way. Just sleep, yeah? Get comfortable, and let’s go to sleep,” Michael’s hand stroked up and down your back, probably unconsciously, and you nodded sleepily.
“Goodnight, Mikey,” You murmured, still largely unable to control your impulses.
“Don’t call me that,” He replied, and then, after a moment, he added gently, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Why are you always here?” Michael sighed the next morning, setting his books down on your table.
“Why are you always such a dick?” You retorted, shuffling your own books to the side.
He shrugged, stiffening a little as you rested your hand on his thigh, “Because it’s fun. Listen, about last night, I don’t want you to think-”
“I don’t think anything,” You reassured him quickly.
“Well that’s obvious,” Michael snorted, “You’re far prettier than you are smart, and far more annoying than you are pretty. I’d be surprised if you used that little head of yours for much more than deciding what color lipstick you should wear and fantasizing about getting fucked.”
Pulling your hand away, you scowled at him, “That’s not what I meant, asshole. I was going to thank you for helping me fall asleep, but now I’d rather just give you another hickey or something, so everyone who looks at you like you’re a god will see what a little bitch their Boy Wonder actually is.”
“I would take that back, if I were you,” He said coolly, his voice deadly calm.
You stood, though only for a moment, and pushed his chair back enough for you to be able to sit, straddling his lap much like you had the night before. Hooking your arms around his neck, you looked at him with a smile, “I have no intention of taking anything back. I said what I said, and I fucking meant it.”
Faster than you knew he could move, Michael stood and slammed your back against the table, knocking the wind out of you. His hands reached under the fabric of your dress and he ripped your underwear off quickly, stuffing them into the pocket of his dress pants as he looked at you, “You have no power here, do you understand that? You may have felt like you were in charge last night, but that’s only because I fucking let you. You’re feisty, and I like that, but you need to learn your fucking place, little witch bitch. Tell me you want that. Tell me you want me to teach you your place, and I will. If you don’t, I’ll leave. But I think we both know which option you prefer.”
You nodded, swallowing thickly, and at his raised eyebrow you spoke, “I do. I mean, I, uh, I want you to show me my place. Whatever. Just fucking do something, Michael.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” He growled, sitting back down in his chair, and he tugged at you, pulling both your legs over his shoulders, your hips lifting off the table, so that his face was level with your pussy, “I’m the one in charge. Get it? I want you to sit there and-fuck, you’re already so fucking wet. You think you want to be in charge, but clearly you know that you’re meant to be at my mercy. I want you to sit there and melt underneath me, and you’re gonna keep melting until there’s nothing left of you. Get it?”
“I get it,” You agreed quickly, although you really weren’t quite sure what he meant by that, and your hips bucked weakly forward at the feeling of his hot breath against you, “Please, Michael.”
“So fucking desperate. You’re fucking dripping for me, and I’ve barely even touched you,” Chuckling, Michael placed a tiny, barely there, ghost of a kiss against your clit, and even though he wasn’t touching you anymore you could feel his wolfish grin at the way you whined when he pulled away.
Michael dragged his teeth against the soft skin of your thighs, nipping at the junction of your pelvis, and you knew as he continued that there were dark flowers blossoming along after his teeth. You squirmed underneath him, and when he finally finished with your thighs he placed his palms against them, holding them open, his long fingers pressed against your hips so they stayed down.
You sat up as well as you could to look at him, and you watched as he stared intently at your pussy, leaning forward after far, far too long to lick a slow, languid stripe up your clit. You moaned weakly, giving a flick of your hand to slam the study room door shut and lock it, and after a moment you dug your hands into his hair, “Michael, wait, the window.”
He leaned back for a moment to glance at the large picture window that took over the wall to your left, and then he beamed up at you, “It’s fine, little witch. No one will walk by, and if they do, it won’t embarrass me, so it doesn’t matter much. That reminds me, if being noisy is gonna make you embarrassed, you might wanna find some way to be fucking quiet for once. I know that’s not your strong suit, but it’s the best you’re gonna get.”
What a dick.
You were about to voice this thought, tell him what a dick he was, but then Michael clamped his teeth down gently on your clit, giving a playful tug, and you let out a shriek at that, bringing one hand up to stop yourself from making too much noise.
Suddenly his tongue was inside you, tracing along the walls of your cunt, exploring, searching for something, and when he found the spot he was looking for you bit sharply into the palm of your hand.
He was masterful in the way he ate you out, his nose still brushing your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.
It didn’t take long until you felt your stomach tightening, ready to burst, and you tugged at Michael’s thick golden curls, whimpering, “Fuck, Michael, I’m gonna-”
“Do it, little witch,” He spoke against your skin, and you shuddered at the vibrations it sent through you, “Melt for me. Let yourself dissolve for me.”
Your orgasm washed over you, Michael attacking your g-spot with a ferocity that you probably should’ve expect but didn’t. He kept going, and you gasped, pulling harder at his hair, “Michael! Stop, you gotta stop, give me a minute.”
He pulled away for just a moment and you gasped, but then his lips were around your clit and sucking furiously. You cursed loudly, another orgasm already approaching, or maybe the first one extending, you couldn’t tell, couldn’t think about it, you were overwhelmed.
For the first time in your life, you could only feel one sense of energy coming at you. Everything else was blocked out, hidden away behind the deep, angry lust that rolled through the air between you and Michael.
He moved back down and began lapping furiously at your folds. Pulling back for a moment, Michael spat on your pussy and then buried his face against you once more, shaking his head furiously, and you struggled to hold back your moans.
You weren’t intending to give him the damn satisfaction.
Michael seemed to realize you were holding back as he started speaking again, his voice muffled against you but bringing another orgasm bubbling to the surface of your skin, electrifying you, “You taste delicious, do you know that, little witch? So sweet. Maybe a little bitter, but so sugary. I could eat you for hours. You know what? I think I will.”
“Fuck,” You let out a hiss as he dove back in, tongue delving into you once more, and you did your best to act smug, like he wasn’t sending shockwaves through your very being, “Is this the best you’ve got, Boy Wonder? You’re supposed to be teaching me my place, right? But I’m kind of-dammit to fuck, holy hell-kind of the one in charge here, huh? I’m the one above you right now.”
You couldn’t even be sure why exactly you were saying this, why you were egging him on when it was becoming painful how much pleasure was running through you, but he didn’t respond. At least, not out loud.
Leaping to his feet, Michael pulled you up closer to him, so that only your shoulders were still laying down. You adjusted your position frantically, scrabbling to grip onto the edge of the table. You were upside down and practically vertical, and he dug into you as though he were indeed starving for you, snarling and slobbering, glaring down the length of your body at you. Your body had started to spasm, and you bit your hand until you tasted blood.
There were explosions going off in your mind, and not just metaphorical orgasmic explosions, but actual ones too, nuclear blasts dancing across your hazy thoughts.
You couldn’t be sure how long this went on, how many times you came, it was all a blur. You’d given up on keeping your sounds under control and were now openly sobbing, shuddering as he continued to devour you.
“Stop, Michael, please, I can’t take it,” You were blubbering, straining hard against him and desperately trying to pull away, but Michael held you firmly in place, chuckling at your desperation.
He pulled your clit into his mouth once more, the suction almost unbearable, and you were smashed with your final orgasm, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he moved to lick at your folds again, a dark glint in his eyes as he watched you pant, watched your own eyes rolling back in your head, and the sight of him smiling against you was the last thing you see before a dark haze overtook you.
You were surrounded by darkness, everything you saw misted in a painful, prickling fog. The air smelled like sulfur, and you looked down to see that you were covered in blood.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A familiar voice rang in your ear, and you swiveled slowly, sluggishly, to see Michael standing just to your right, an admiring grin on his face, “We did very well, my little witch.”
You tried to respond, but your words stuck in your throat, and you simply stared at Michael. He was wearing something other than pajamas or the Hawthorne uniform for the first time you had ever seen. His hands were folded neatly behind his back, but as you stared at him he reached one arm out and entangled your fingers in his.
The sky was thick with grey and black clouds, and Michael’s hand was searing hot against your own. When he pulled away, moving to examine a piece of rubble not far from you, you looked at your palm to see that it was bright shade of pinkish red, as though it had been sunburned.
Michael turned back around to look at you expectantly, and you saw that the piece of rubble he was leaning against had a large sign on it, with a large chunk missing from one of the top corners.
--Miss Robichaux’s Academy For Exceptional Young Ladies--
Holy shit.
When your eyes fluttered back open, Michael was sitting in his chair once more and had adjusted you so that your back was resting on the table again, although your legs were still splayed over his shoulders.
You gasped when you caught sight of his face, your mind still tumbling at the...dream? vision? mirage? You weren’t sure what it was, but you were scrambling to reconcile what you had seen with what was happening now.
Michael merely raised an eyebrow at you, pulling your legs off of his shoulders, “Are you back with me now, little witch?”
“Fucking hell,” You breathed, trying to sit up.
Placing a hand on your stomach, Michael tutted, “Stay down. At least for a few moments. You blacked out and you’re gonna do it again if you’re not careful.”
“I’m okay,” You reassured him, sitting up again after a few moments, swinging your legs down and frowning, “Fuck, I can’t feel my legs.”
“That makes sense,” Michael stood, looking down at you coolly, “I think I’ll go study elsewhere. See you around, little witch.”
“What? You can’t just leave,” You couldn’t believe it, and you tried to stand but fell back immediately, your entire lower body trembling.
Michael didn’t bother to respond, just turned away from you with that ridiculous smirk on his face, and walked out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was something strange in the air, but this time you knew what it was.
Desire.
Michael Langdon was an asshole, but you knew from everything that had happened that you two were destined to meet, although you weren’t sure why.
It seemed that you were going to have to figure it out.
how different stages of michael, how he raised his child with s/o?
on this day last year, i published my first fic here (things haven’t changed much since sanctum, i’ll admit) so it seems only fair we go back to that fluffy domesticity with daddy!Michael!
Grunge!Michael is an adorable hands-on dad, not wanting to let your beautiful little girl out of his sight for fear of losing his new family. He’s trying his hardest to control his powers around you both, especially as he’s not entirely sure how strong he is yet. You come home to find him visibly seething as he sterilises baby bottles buried under a mountain of laundry and ironing, but there’s something different about the curls tumbling in front of his face today — a glittering silver tiara perched atop them. “I... I can explain,” Michael stutters as he yanks down the royal addition to his mop top and stows it behind his back. “I... couldn’t find her favourite apple juice and she was crying so loud, so I made the refrigerator blow up and now our daughter thinks I’m... Elsa.”
Hawthorne!Michael is starting to realise his purpose in life, even more so when your baby boy arrives to complete your family — now he has a future Hawthorne boy of his own to raise. Naturally, he teaches your toddler all the best spells when you’re not looking, poring over his own study books to find something to really amuse you after a hard day in class. As you bundle back into your family dorm, you discover Michael’s babysitting skills have left him tearing his blonde curls out while your son dangles from the ceiling, chuckling away while juggling building blocks and toy trucks suspended in mid-air. “I know I’m not one for admitting fault,” Michael sighs with a pout as he keeps his gaze fixed on the troublesome boy. “But I really shouldn’t have taught him salire per spatium.”
While Sojourn!Michael may have lost his way in a spiritual sense, the arrival of your daughter brought him back down to earth in more ways than he can imagine. For the first year of her life, your little girl knew her father’s stubbled countenance as her comfort, the way he would graze her cheek with his like sandpaper and the unbridled giggles that ensued. One day, however, he decides it’s time to pull himself together and shave off that five o’clock shadow. Pacing back into the room wiping his fresh face dry, your baby girl bursts into uncontrollable, hysterical tears. Michael’s heart breaks as he races over to comfort her. “Baby girl, it’s me! It’s daddy! You don’t recognise me?” Scooping the crying girl in his arms, he cradles her and coos softly but nothing works until mom walks in. “Honey, our girl thinks I’m an imposter.”
Fire and Reign!Michael may be a busy bee, flitting between Cooperative meetings and Kineros Robotics, but he will always find time to care for you and your little boy, who’s the spitting image of him minus the flowing black coat and inimitable red gloves. Did we mention the Antichrist has an unlimited Disneyworld pass to whisk your little family away for the weekend? He’s still got a mountain of work engagements to attend while you stay in the most expensive suite on site, but as he stumbles wearily into the room after an exhausting day, his tired eyes find you and little Lucifer curled up on the couch still wearing your Mickey Mouse ears as you doze. Silently tiptoeing over to you both, Michael tosses his coat and gloves aside and slumps into the seat beside you. With one arm protectively curled around your waist and pressing sleepy kisses into your hair, the dictatorial bringer of the apocalypse melts back into his true form — a soft-centered, blissfully happy father.
With the apocalypse well and truly under his thumb, Outpost!Michael has all the maturity and command to make a go of being a cruel-to-be-kind father... at least, that’s what you thought when you first discovered you were expecting twins. Fast forward 18 months and he’s careering down the corridors of Outpost 3 with one little boy perched on his shoulders and your daughter speeding ahead of him, a high-speed chase to the library in search of their favourite book. Fast forward an hour and he’s curled up with your two bundles of joy reading them bedtime stories of angels and demons... tales of supernatural events that your children are blissfully unaware once happened to their father, the cuddly daddy whose velvet suits make the perfect comfort blankets.
33 and 45 with Hawthorne Michael plz. Maybe with a love confession and some cocky behaviour 👌🏻
33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.
45. Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.
Thank you for sending this in! I hope this does your idea justice and that you enjoy! As for my usual disclaimer, Michael is over 18 (as characters will always be for me. Sorry--it’s just what I’m most comfortable with because I am OLD.) Sorry this took so long, I wanted to try my best to make this a good answer for you.
Hawthorne!Michael: Not Just Anyone
“Keep the hood up,” Michael whispered in your ear. The alabaster halls of the warlock academy were desolate at this hour, but he didn’t want to take any chances that would stress your already overactive concerns. You didn’t mind the precautions. His cloak draped around your body and obscuring your face smelled heavily of his cologne and helped to ease your mind. There was still the nagging in your conscience that you couldn’t quite silence.
“Michael, what if you get caught with me? You can’t afford to be punished now.” He turned and tilted his head down so you could see his face below the edge of the hood.
“They already know that I’m the Alpha. More powerful than any of the witch Supremes that have ever existed. I’ve passed their tests and been recognized by the witches’ coven.” Michael lifted an eyebrow in amusement. “You really think they’re going to do anything to me? I think I’m entitled to a bit of fun after all the prestige that I’m bringing to this school.” He straightened up again and placed one hand behind his back and guided the other around your waist. “Now stop worrying, or you’ll crease that beautiful face.”
Michael’s steps were even and regular while you felt like you had to walk on tiptoe. How was he so casual about sneaking you into his school? Surely there would be some sort of consequence. Every flame-thrown shadow had you jumping or tensing, certain that you’d been caught. But Michael knew his way around the school quickly. What’s more, Michael knew his way around his fellow students and any of the elder warlocks that you might encounter.
The flickers of the fires and torch lights sparkled in his eyes. Pure mischief. There was no denying that you loved the thrill he brought to your life. It always left your heart racing. You felt like you were free falling, only there was no parachute to pull and soften the landing.
He pushed open one of the doors in the long hallway and quickly ushered you inside. The fireplace ignited as soon as he crossed the threshold and illuminated the room. Clean and orderly, just like Michael. You turned to him with a smile and slipped the hood down to your shoulders. In the privacy of his quarters, you felt free to relax. The locks clicked into place on the door with a simple wave of his hand while his eyes remained fixed on yours until he turned around. For several moments, he stood perfectly straight with his back to you.
“Michael-”
“Do you know why I’ve brought you here?” Slow, purposeful strides carried him to stand in front of you. Each heel-toe clack against the floorboards mocked the increasing beat of your heart. One of his hands reached out to twist a strand of your hair around his dexterous fingers, and you couldn’t help returning his smirk.
“I would imagine that has something to do with the “fun” you feel entitled to?” You reached up to stroke the thin silk bow at his neck with the tip of your index finger. He caught your wrist and brought the palm of your hand to his lips. The simple touch made your fingers twitch and a breathy moan sing from your throat.
“Certainly anyone could do for that.” Your eyes narrowed at his comment. Anyone could do? Asshole. Michael gripped your wrist tightly as you tried to pull your hand away. If he wanted to be like that, then he was welcome to go find anyone. “I mean why I brought you here. Specifically you.”
The struggle between the two of you stopped as your confusion set in. His hand around your wrist tugged you forward until he was able to lay his cheek against the warmth of your captive palm. The soft fluttering of his lashes settling against his cheek seemed far too innocent a gesture coupled with the tone of his voice.
“I don’t know.” Michael tipped his head back and groaned in exaggerated annoyance. He released your hand so that he could hold his arms out at his sides.
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” The gentle tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed the intended vitriol of his words. Moments passed where his eyes darted between yours. Suddenly, his shoulder relaxed into a shrug.
“Because I love you.”
That...was not what you had expected. Just as he did not expect your arms to fly around his neck when you threw yourself into him. You could feel his gasp against your lips when you firmly captured his. He stared at your closed eyes in surprise before melting into your embrace. The crackling of the fire and the distant laughing of someone a few doors down disappeared as the thumping of your heart flooded your ears. Warmth circled you in the form of his lissome arms keeping you steady against him.
Michael quickly came to speed with the moment. He stepped with his legs on the outside of yours, forcing you to move with him. Deep inhales through your nose keep the chain of increasingly needy kisses from breaking. The loud thump of your calf hitting the coffee table left you gasping against his lips and turned into shared chuckles that were lost in each other’s mouths. More than likely it would be a bruise tomorrow, and you hoped it wouldn’t be the only one you woke up with from tonight.
Walking backwards proved a challenge for you in the unfamiliar room, especially with the two of you continuously attached from the lips down. Michael grunted into you when he kicked the corner of the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. It nearly sent the two of you tumbling over the arm and to the floor. You couldn’t help giggling, and Michael took the moment to skillfully twirl your tongue together--effectively turning your amusement to pleasure.
Hands moved in a flurry over each other and articles of clothing were sent sailing through the air one by one on your journey to his bed. Trying to remove your pants without breaking the heated open-mouthed kisses proved more difficult than you expected, and only Michael’s arms around you kept you from greeting the floor with your face. You could feel him smirk against your lips, to which you replied with a murmured “shut up” that was drowned out by another moan when your back finally landed on the bed.
“Michael-Michael, wait.” You had to place firm hands on his chest to keep those sinful lips at bay. You wet your lips and panted against his chest to gather yourself together.
“I love you, too,” you swore with a soft smile. The deep chuckle from low in his chest reverberated straight through you and made you clench your thighs together. His lips spread into a wide, satisfied smirk.
“I know,” he said, and descended one again upon your kiss-swollen lips.
