#michael langdon request

[fckinsupreme]

Outpost Mikey x reader Reader is a servant in the sanctuary and she has a big crush on Michael, she works for him only, every time he around she stutters and blushes, she also thinks about him a lot, Michael knows this and likes to mess with her to see her reaction, one day she goes to his office, she starts a make out session with him and he has rough sex with her on his desk ❤️❤️

“Mr. Langdon?”

Michael looks up from the array of papers on his desk as you enter his office, his jeweled fingers folding across the wooden surface. A wide grin spreads his lips, his angelic features illuminated by the candlelight of the room. He doesn’t look angry over your intrusion; in fact, he looks amused, maybe even excited. It’s so hard to tell; he’s a difficult person to read, something that never failed to frustrate you from the moment you met him.

“Yes?” he asks, his gaze on you as you cross the room to stand before him. “What can I do for you? Shouldn’t you be pressing my clothes for tomorrow?”

“I—I...um...yeah,” you manage, shaking your head a little. “I just had a question.”

“Oh?” Michael asks, reaching out to run his finger over the back of your nearest hand. He smirks at your reaction, at the way your breath hitches, and his icy blue eyes flicker to yours. “Get on with it and then I want you to get back to work.”

You swallow hard, trying to stop your hands from trembling. You tuck them behind your back, moving closer to him as you try to keep your nerve. You know that if you don’t act now and act quickly, you’ll rush out without having done what you truly came here for. After all the stammering around him, getting nervous, getting flustered, all the teasing he did as a result of this...it had led to this moment. You had given this a lot of thought, and you decided that you had nothing left to lose. If it went badly, your punishment couldn’t be any worse than what you were already doing for him. If it went right...the very thought excited you to your core, and that’s what pushes you to finally settle in his lap.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, that same amused expression returning to his face as he rests his hands on your thighs.

“Nothing,” you say, but you don’t make an attempt to move away from him. “Nothing at all.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he says, squeezing your thighs before moving to grip your waist. “Why don’t you humor me?”

You take a deep breath, burying your nerves deeply and taking a leap of faith. You close the space between the two of you, pressing your lips to his in a hard kiss. To your surprise, he doesn’t pull away or put up an objection. Instead, he pulls your even closer, his large hands settling over your ass as he coaxes you further into his lap. You whine softly, your tongue pressing to his lips as he parts them. You kiss him deeply, one hand settling against his strong jaw as the other braces on his chest. He growls in your mouth as you nip at his lower lip, and he lifts you so that you’re sitting on the edge of his desk. He clears it, sliding everything to the floor before lying you down and climbing on top of you. He kisses you again, this time more sloppy and urgent than before.

“You needy fucking whore,” he hisses, his long golden hair hanging in his face as he pulls away. “This is what you came here for in the first place, isn’t it? To pathetically attempt to seduce me?”

“Not so pathetic if it’s working,” you say, yelping when this retort results in him closing a hand around your throat.

“Hm,” he says, smirking as he applies a little pressure. “That’s better. I always liked you better when you didn’t talk.”

You whimper softly, looking up at him with soft eyes. You can feel his hard cock through his pants, brushing against your cunt as you push your hips forward. He reaches down with his free hand, swiping his fingers over the gusset of your panties and grinning when he feels the arousal that has pooled there. He moves off of you for a moment, long enough to pull your panties off and hold them to his nose. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes and exhaling with a shaky moan before tucking the material in the back pocket of his pants.

“Is this what you wanted when you came here?” Michael asks, unfastening his pants and tugging his cock out before running it through your saturated folds. “Hm? Is this what you came here for? To be fucked like the pathetic fuck doll you are?”

“Yes,” you say, hooking your legs over his waist to pull him closer. “Please. It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

He grins wickedly, pushing inside of you with a hot groan. Your head tips back against the desk, a hot moan spilling from your own lips as he goes even deeper. He doesn’t start thrusting until he’s fully inside of you, not giving you much time to adjust to his impressive size. He slams into you repeatedly, drinking up your mewls as you cling to him. He closes his hand around your throat again, cutting off your air as he rams directly into your G-spot.

“How does it feel?” he breathes in your ear. “How does it feel knowing that I own you? Knowing that I’m laying claim to your body and no one else can have it but me?”

“It feels so good,” you say, brushing some hair out of his eyes and holding it behind his head. “I don’t...mmm...I don’t want anyone else to own me but you.”

“And they never shall,” he rasps, removing his hand to bite at your neck while he thrusts mercilessly. “I’m the only one who owns you and who will ever own you, Y/N.”

“What if we get caught?” you ask worriedly, arching against him as he thrusts sharply into your sweet spot. “Venable—“

“Can go fuck herself,” Michael finishes, ripping your dress down the front and sucking one of your nipples when your breasts are exposed. “She might actually get the first thrill of her life by seeing us like this.”

You chuckle, moaning as he tugs the nipple as hard as he can between his teeth. “Mr. Langdon...”

“I think we’re past formalities,” he says, giving your other nipple equal treatment before pulling out of you. You give him a confused glance, but he’s tugging you to your feet, bending you over the desk, and shoving inside of you again before you can ask what he’s doing. “Mmm...you’re a tight little slut, aren’t you?”

“Mmm hmm,” you breathe, eyes rolling back due to how overwhelming everything feels. “Please...”

“Please what?” he asks, spanking your ass before yanking your head up by your hair. “Please...?”

“Make me cum,” you say, grinning as he presses your cheek against the hard wood on the desk. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, still drilling into you as he holds you in place. “I want you to scream for me. I want Ms. Venable to think you’re being fucking murdered. If you do that for me, I promise that I’ll make you cum as many times as you’d like. Is that a good deal for you?”

“That’s a /great/ fucking deal.”

—

Baby taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @angel-of-dior @leatherduncan @lvngdvns @wickedlangdon @melodylangdon @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @apocalxpsetime @frenchlangdon @dark-mei-rose @littlegirlsdontplaynice

[casikototmblr]

Forbidden Fruit - Hawthorne!Michael.

Summary: Hawthorne! Michael confesses his feelings for y/n, a witch at Robichaux’s Academy, in a weekly date.

A/N: This was a request I received on my Wattpad account, and I decided to share it here too. Hope everyone enjoys it!

You had only been at Robichaux’s Academy under the position of ‘practising witch’ for a few weeks before you accompanied Cordelia and Myrtle on a short visit to Hawthorne. You couldn’t quite remember the reason why you, Cordelia and Myrtle went there, you could only remember the boy you spent the entire hour bewitched by. 

Ever since the visit, you and him couldn’t stop talking to each other. You both met up religiously every week; you’d sneak out of the coven when Cordelia and the others went to bed, Michael would do the same when the other warlocks retired to their rooms. 

Suddenly one night, something changed between you and boy wonder. When completely out of the blue, Michael’s lips crashed with yours in a soft but long kiss. You were both taken aback by what just happened, his eyes opened wide in utter disbelief that he had just kissed you, a wave of cockiness flushed over him whilst you stared at him; your mind replaying the kiss at least a million times in your head.  

You fully understood that the ‘thing’ you had with the warlock was strictly forbidden - you would run the risk of being excluded by Cordelia since you were technically infiltrating with the enemy. But even though you knew the risk that came with this gorgeous boy, that just made your relation with him even more interesting - it was a secret that no one else knew and could never find out about, only you and him.

Tonight was your weekly meet-up with Michael. You and Michael had both agreed that at least once or twice, after dark, you'd both meet at the same spot and it happened weekly, sometimes you would see him more one week than the next but that was fine by you because you were content even if you just saw Michael for a couple of minutes.

You patiently waited in the cold alley-way as you waited for his presence, your eyes flicked between the brightly-lit screen of your phone and the dark entrance of the alley as you desperately waited for him.

“Michael!” You exclaimed loud enough for anyone else nearby the alley to hear you as you observed his tall figure stroll down the alleyway in your direction. His sculptured face and dishevelled Hawthorne uniform came more and more clearer as he came closer to you. 

Within a split second, Michael’s hands were already snaked around your slim waist with his soft lips already attached to yours in a passionate kiss. You were entangled in the lingering kiss for a moment or two before you both pulled away, the skin of your foreheads touched gently.

“The same burger joint as last week?” Michael asked softly as he swiped a piece of hair that dangled over your rosy cheek, tucking it swiftly behind your ear; waiting for an reponse to his question.

“Of course, Mikey. The milkshakes there are to die for.” You responded as you grabbed Michael’s free hand in yours and began to stroll alongside him back down the entrance of the alleyway.

It was a short 10 minute walk from the dark alleyway, past the brightly-lit shop windows full to the brim of beautiful dresses and sparkly jewels, to the burger joint named “Patty Bun’s burgers.”

“Mi’Lady.” Michael joked as he gestured for you to walk in the joint, his other hand held a tight grip on the cold handle of the door as he waited patiently for you to walk past. Once you were both in the burger joint, you both swiftly walked over to your usual booth.

It was a plush, red leather-seat booth in the back corner of the joint that gave you a brilliant view of the old cinema across the main road. The back wall of the booth was decorated in old 50s’ posters, that ranged in colour and size.

Once you and Michael had both ordered your usual, a cheeseburger with a side of fries and the diner’s special milkshake, you both sat down. The pair of you seated on the plush leather seat of the booth on either side. You could tell by the concerned look on Michael’s face that there was something he wanted to tell you but he didn’t quite know how to say it.

You grabbed his free hand in yours and placed it on the free space of table in front of you, as you looked into his soft, baby blue eyes. Your thumb stroking the back of his rough hand in a reassuring manner as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Michael, is there anything you want to tell me?” You asked softly as you examined his facial expression at the question. The concerned look on his face washed away, now replaced with a small, genuine smile.

“Yes. Yes, there is.” Michael responded rather confidently, the small smile on his face turned slowly into a big smile. “We’re not in a relationship, but I want this thing that we have to be more than just a bit of fun...I want a relationship with you, y/n.” Michael added slowly, as you felt the shocked expression creep onto your face, you weren’t rejecting the idea instead you loved it!

“M-Michael...I- I don’t know what to say!” You responded with a slight chuckle as the shocked expression turned into a warm smile whilst you looked contently into Michael’s soft eyes. “I’d quite like that too, Mikey.” You added happily as Michael smiled back at you, pure happiness washed over him at your words.

[ahs-requests]

y/n having sex in the back of fuckboy!Michael's car pls 🙏🏼

Pairing: Fuckboy!Michael x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nsfw, fingering, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, edging.

WC: 1.6k

The songs playing in Michael’s four-seater sedan are muted after hearing thumping house party music all night. Generally, you wouldn’t run off with a guy you just met, but Michael somehow schmoozed his way into getting you into his car. He’s parked in an abandoned parking lot of a department store that’s closed hours ago, casually draping himself in the backseat next to you and feeling the high kick in.

You hold a lighter to the bowl of his pipe and suck in the heavy smoke, already getting hit by how strong it is. You cough out the fumes, handing him his pipe back. He snickers at how you choke, as if mocking you for being too amateur. “Your weed tastes like shit,” you spit back at him, subtly trying to hide your coughs. The reality is that you don’t really know if it tastes bad; you rarely ever smoke weed, but it always tastes like shit to you anyways.

“My uncle grows it,” he mutters with the pipe between his lips.

“Well, your uncle’s weed tastes like shit,” you joke a little too aggressively, sinking into your seat. The high is already making everything feel like it’s been thrown into slow motion.

He sits up in his seat and you get a whiff of his intoxicating body spray. “I didn’t bring you here just so you can shit on my weed, okay?” he’s starting to sound a little impatient.

“Bring me here?” you laugh. “The empty parking lot of a department store. So romantic.”

He leans over, a puff of the grim marijuana smoke blows into your face. This time the smell doesn’t bother you; with how delicately it leaves his lips and hits yours, it’s almost arousing. “That’s the thing, baby,” he whispers close to your ear, “I don’t do romance.”

You’ve pegged yourself as the monogamous type and always viewed one night stands as too dirty for your blood, but something is different with Michael. As soon as you laid eyes on him, you wanted to know what he smells like, what he feels like, what he tastes like. He’s so obviously just another jock, keeping score of how many pussies he’s fucked, but there’s something undeniably irresistible about the man.

His lips are inches from yours, still parted from releasing the smoke from his lungs. You take the opportunity to kiss him. His soft lips suck yours, his hand already laying on your cheek to guide your face towards his. He wastes no time, introducing his tongue into your mouth and flicking it around. You wonder what that would feel like on your core.

Michael’s skillful fingers run up your thighs and press against the moist area between your legs. You draw in a breath, your lips still against his. He kisses down your neck, his big lips running along your goose-pimpled skin. He shifts your panties to the side and struggles to stuff a finger inside. “Mmm, baby,” he moans, “you’re so tight.”

“Yeah,” you croak. You try hiding your gasps as he pulses his finger inside of you. “Thanks,” you reply awkwardly, unaware what to tell this stranger who’s inside you. He smiles against your neck.  

You convince yourself to blame the weed on your ineptitude and escalate the situation, putting your hand on his thigh. You rub in the denim, slowly moving up his leg until you reach his crotch. Your hand brushes over his bulge, feeling how rock hard he’s gotten under your charm. He takes in a deep breath when you touch him.

You tug at the zipper of his blue jeans, trying to take your mind off of the hex his fingers have over you. He takes his finger out of you and leaves your throbbing cunt to help slip off his jeans. Of course, he just wants to get inside you as soon as possible. But you have to admit, you want the same.

He shimmies his pants off and you graze over his cock, eagerly pulling at the elastic waistband of his boxers and dragging out his thick length. He groans onto your skin, his voice sending a vibration against your vocal cords. Michael grabs a fistful of your hair and drives you down, pushing your head towards his cock. You follow his commands without question, lowering your head down to his bulbus pink tip and beginning to suck on it. You sit on the floor of his car as he continues gripping your hair and ushering you further down his length.

He throws his back and groans when you make contact, sucking his veiny cock and tasting the bitter precum dripping from his hole. You bob your head, pushing him as far as you can into your throat before you start choking, but he mercilessly pushes you further. His round tip tickles the back of your throat and you gag, pulling him out of your mouth and coughing, tears rolling down your cheeks. You wipe them away, hoping he didn’t notice.

You still feel a numbness in your cunt since he’s left you unfinished, so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. You sit back on the seat next to him, slightly rubbing against it to alleviate some of the tension. He yanks your hair, hard. “Why did you stop?” he asks, visibly annoyed.

You begin rubbing your clit in circles, opening your legs wide enough for him to watch. “Because you did the same to me,” you reply sweetly, then spit down on your wet cunt, dripping onto the backseat of his car.

He bites his bottom lip, watching your juicy cunt dribble all over his car. He leans into you, kissing you again, this time his kiss almost feels like it’s battling your lips. “Oh, yeah?” he breathes into your mouth. “What if I just stuffed you up right now? Fucked your tight little pussy and filled you with my cum? Huh? Is that what you want?” his voice is low, intimidating. It sends chills down your spine.

You just nod. A weak “yes” spills from your lips when he’s already climbing on top of you, pushing you to lay down in the back seat. He spits on the head of his cock and holds it to your entrance. He presses himself into you, filling you up in a matter of seconds. You gasp, grabbing at his arm for support and burying your nails into his car seats.

He pushes further inside you and your cunt writhes in pain. Your muscles twitch as he begins pumping his thick cock. “You’re so fucking tight,” he starts up his mantra again, “you’re taking me so well.”

He pushes even deeper, rocking his hips into your wet cunt. You feel your hole accepting more and more of him with each plunge, your pain subsiding and pleasure rising. His cock grinds against your g-spot, it feels as if he hits every important nerve. At first you couldn’t speak from pain, now it’s from unadulterated satisfaction.

You roll your eyes and throw your head back, hitting the window of his car. “Oh, fuck,” is all you can bring yourself to pant. He fucks you so hard that you keep smacking your back against the door with each thrust. “Just… like… that,” you encourage between thrusts.

He leans over you, his sweaty hand rams into the window, leaving behind an ominous print on the glass. “You feel so good, baby,” he praises, bending down to give your lips another peck.

He pummels himself into you so hard that the whole car is rocking against his thrusts and the air becomes thick, dirty. The two of you relentlessly pant, exchanging grimaces and letting out small groans. You sit up, feeling yourself approach climax, and he grabs onto you, pushing your body flush against his. The pace of his thrusts are faster than before. “Fuck,” he keeps breathing, “fuckfuckfuck.”

Michael pulls you into a hug against him, digging his long cock into you a few more times. His last thrusts getting harder and harder until you feel something warm release inside of you and he lets out a shaky groan. “Oh yeah, baby,” he sighs, flopping back on the seat of his car and taking himself out of you. He wipes some sweat from his brow.

You’re still panting, your cunt aches from edging climax. “Uuh, hello?” you hit him as he pulls out his phone, scrolling on the bright screen.

“Hm?” he replies, not even looking at you. You’re already kicking yourself for letting him convince you into this.

“I didn’t finish,” you say bitterly.

Michael lays his phone flat on his chest; his face twists in discomfort. He sighs deeply, as if you were interrupting something crucial on his cell screen. “Look, um…” he trails off, using his hands to gesture at you.

“Y/n,” you answer for him.

“Yes. Listen, y/n, I’m so sorry to do this, but I have to go back to my dorm,” he explains, you’re already rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “I have practice in the morning. Y’know I’d love to finish you off, but I really have to get going. You think you can do the rest?”

Fucking asshole.

[little-lily-w]

The reader starts to tell outpost!Michael some crappy jokes in the middle of their love making session and he can't handle it but laugh with her. Just pure fluff in this and maaybe a little smutty

His blonde hair is falling like a cascade tickling your shoulders. The bedroom is filled with heavy breathings as you lie on your back with Michael’s body between your legs and his manhood connected to your wetness. He has stopped his pelvic motions for a moment, to feel you, to close his eyes and absorb the loving energy the heat emanates, to make you sense how he throbs deep inside you. And it’s all perfect just because he is Michael Langdon, the man you’ve always dreamed about. But tonight you are not in the mood for perfection, for his tidy appearance even when sweat drops grace the contour of his face, for the solemn act of making love as king and queen would. You reach up at his cheek with your hand and, cupping it, you smile with naughtiness.

-Michael…

-Yes, love?

-Why aren’t koalas actual bears? Do they not meet the koalifications?

The enchantment of the moment is for certainly broken but you are glad he opens his eyes with that disoriented expression, especially when he’s always commanded himself with security and confidence.  And you can tell there is a slight curling up of half of his lips, hiding a smile.

-Y/N, please – he says moving again slowly in and out of your tenderness.

-I’m sorry – you chuckle - I’m addicted to jokes. It could be worse. I once was addicted to soap, but I’m clean now.

-Stop it you – he laughs unwillingly, caressing your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. You attempt to speak again but he gives a few stronger thrusts that catch the breath in your throat – Yeah, that certainly gets you to behave, isn’t that right?

-I’m not entirely sure, Mr. Langdon. Would you show me more so I can make up my mind?

Those may have not been the right words for you to say to him but it doesn’t matter because he has grabbed you by the throat very softly but his pace is now faster and his touch becomes deeper, extracting moan after moan from you.

-          I’ll show you everything you want, my love, till you are quivering mess. He who laughs last laughs longest.

[synthsoup]

michael langdon x short!reader headcannons

warnings : fluffy af

A/N : as a short girl myself I figured I had to do it to em so here it is and I really like some of these so I might expand some later :)

***

• he thinks your adorable but knows not to make you angry

• uses your head as an arm rest

• he’s the only one allowed to do so (anyone else gets karate chopped in the throat)

• gives unlimited piggyback rides

• him being so much taller than you gives you the great advantage of being able to jump on him at anytime and not knock him over

• whether from the front back or side you juMP on this poor man

• one time you sprinted toward him and absolutely leAPEd yelling “catch me!” nearly gave the man a heart attack and he tHRew his liquid filled cup and papers to the floor to carry you

• sometimes it’s a bit of a disadvantage though

• he picks you up by the waist and throws you over his shoulder, absolutely yeets you onto the couch and smothers you with kisses

• does this a lot when he’s trying to diffuse a fight

• tossed you over his shoulder in the cereal isle of the grocery store once

• having to stand on on your tiptoes to kiss him a lot of the time

• one time when at a formal event together, it was quickly discovered you were shit at this *fancy* dancing

• you sort of step up on top of his shoes and hold both of his hands, he moves you both (so there are no more ~casualties~ because onE of you can’t dance)

• when y’all are feeling dramatic he picks you up bridal style.

• might start monologuing about his undying love for you and your short legs as you smack his chest

• after the struggle both of you end up on the floor

• rough kisses as you wrap your legs around his torso

• basically your the most stunning girl he’s ever seen

***

[fckinsupreme]

Hello! I love your writing on the Michael fanfics, I have an idea for a blurb/short fic if your interested! What if you his S/O died tragically (like from the witches or something), and Michael saves her from being tortured in hell after being there for a while. She wouldn’t believe it’s him at first (maybe she thinks it’s some kind of trick?). I could see it being either Outpost or Fire&Reigns Michael saving her (or whichever one you think is better!)

I did F&R Michael!!

———

Pain. Sorrow. Anger. It was all Michael could feel as he stepped into the place that was his birthright. Hell was by no means a pleasant, fun place; at least the religious charlatans had gotten that much right. But for Michael, those negative, hurtful emotions were almost orgasmic, fueling him to chase the ultimate pleasurable high as he walked through the halls. Door after door came and went, but none of them were the one he was searching for. None of them contained /her/.

The day Michael lost his cherished Ms. Mead had been the same day that he had lost his beloved Y/N. The witches had stolen her from him, burned her alive at the stake for lying to them about his whereabouts. It had been /his/ fault, and he spent many nights blaming himself over and over again. Tossing, turning, clinging to her pillow that still had her smell, crying himself to sleep and crying himself awake. Nothing had made sense without her, and nothing felt right anymore.

To make matters even worse, he discovered only recently that Cordelia had lied to him. She had locked Ms. Mead away, out of reach, but hadn’t done the same for Y/N. Whether Cordelia didn’t have the magical capacity to shut out more than one, or she just wanted something to hold over him, Michael didn’t know. But what he had been certain of was that he was going to bring Y/N home. He had to find her. He had to find his beautiful girl and bring her back where she belonged. He refused to leave until that was a done deal.

He reaches a door at the end of the hallway, and his heart begins to hammer in his chest. He swallows thickly, a shaky hand turning the knob as he pushes the door open. The smell of fire, brimstone, and decay greet him, and he raises his arm to his nose to block out the rancid odor. Icy blue eyes survey the room, but it isn’t the sight that springs him into action. It’s the sound of a woman crying that spurs him, and he rushes inside the room as he desperately searches for the source of the tears. The smell doesn’t bother him anymore; he’s too amped up on adrenaline to care. The only thing on his mind is finding where she is, and the sound of his heartbeat in his ears nearly drowns out her cries.

“Y/N!” he calls, spinning in circles as he tries to spot her. “Y/N!”

“Michael?!” she asks, her voice distant. “Is that you?”

“Yes!” he says, tears of his own falling down his cheeks. “It’s me!”

“Please don’t trick me,” she begs, fresh sobs filling the air around him. “It isn’t fucking funny anymore. It—“

She’s cut off with a bloodcurdling scream, and Michael feels his relief replaced with fear and anger. He runs even faster, following the sound of her anguished cries and hoping they lead him to her. It doesn’t take long to find her, lying on the filthy ground with her arm cut open. A figure is standing above her, holding a bloody knife, but Michael isn’t one to forgive. He shoves a fist into their chest, ripping the heart out and glaring as the figure crumples to the ground. He raises the heart to his lips, taking a bite and groaning as the taste hits his tongue. Black blood pours down his hand and arm, coating his chin and lips as he takes another big bite.

“Michael...” Y/N says from the ground.

He snaps out of his trance, discarding the heart as though it were something poisonous. He kneels down in front of her, taking her head in his hands and kissing her passionately. More tears flow from his eyes, and he pulls back to press his forehead to hers. She wipes away some of his tears and, when he opens his eyes, he sees that she’s crying, too.

“It’s really you,” she breathes. “You’re really here...”

“I’m really here,” he confirms, kissing over her face before bringing her palm up. He presses his lips there, allowing them to linger a little longer than necessary. “This isn’t a trick. I’m so sorry it took me so long to find you. That bitch Cordelia fucking lied to me.”

“I’m not surprised,” she says, clinging to Michael as though he could disappear at any moment. Something tells him that he /had/ disappeared before—or rather, the vision of him had. “I wanna go home.”

“We will,” he promises, smirking widely at her. “There’s a lot you need to catch up on, darling. For starters, you won’t be able to enjoy the world above as it is for much longer.”

“Why’s that?” she asks as he helps her to her feet.

“The apocalypse is upon us,” he says as he holds onto her hand. “It won’t be long. It’s one of the many reasons why I had to come and save you. I couldn’t see myself ruling the new world without my queen by my side.”

She grins, that breathtaking smile that Michael had missed for several months. “Your queen, huh?”

“That’s right,” he says, nodding toward the door. “Come, dear Y/N. Let’s get you home.”

——

Baby tags: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @liliesintherain @lvngdvns @duncansshephard @frenchlangdon @apocalxpsetime @lovelylangdonx @hecatetears @guiltyfiend @xavierplymptons @blakewaterxx @ahsbitch

[fckinsupreme]

Outpost micheal and reader get a argument about how he always working and not spending much time with her, she gives him the silent treatment, but in the end they make up ❤️

I made reader a witch in this!

—-

It had been the fight to end all fights.

Michael was always tapping away at his computer, always going to Cooperative meetings within the Sanctuary, always busy with some nonsense or another. He barely had any time for you anymore, and you hated it. You resented his work, because it was the one thing that was taking him away from you. The one person who promised to always put you first, told you that you were always his top priority, held you as you sobbed at the notion of the end of the world without your family...now, it was as though none of that mattered to him. It was as though you were nothing more than a distraction from his greater plans and he was purposefully trying to drive you away.

So, when you finally had enough, it was an explosion. You confronted him as he sat at his laptop, typing in data and ignoring your advances. You accused him of being selfish, of not wanting to be with you anymore, of every hurtful thing that he had made you feel or had actually done. He defended himself by saying that it wasn’t like that at all, that he was only getting his ducks in a row for any remaining outpost and making sure things would go according to plan. This was the end of the world, you’d said, why was there still so much fucking work to do? Shouldn’t it have been done by now? That’s when he made it all about him, about how he was the one being neglected when you had done no such thing. In fact, as you’d pointed out, you were always trying to show him attention; he was the one rebuffing it.

Michael became furious, and you were already angered enough. Him turning it around on himself only made you more upset, and your powers always became unruly when you felt such strong, negative emotions. Objects flew around the room, the two of you screamed at each other, and you almost destroyed his computer before he used his own powers to lift it out of reach. He gave you a bewildered look, and you told him not to bother coming to your quarters that night—or any night in the foreseeable future, for that matter.

The fight took place four days ago, and you still had yet to speak to Michael. Sure, he’d tried to initiate a conversation or get your attention, but you ignored him each time. You hadn’t spoken aloud since the argument, unless it was to utter a hello or good morning to one of the other Sanctuary members. Michael was growing increasingly worried over your silent treatment, and on that fourth night, he picks up his pride and knocks softly on your door.

“Y/N,” he says from the other side, sounding absolutely defeated. “Please open up. This behavior is quite childish, and we need to be mature. We need to fix this.”

You tossed the book you were reading aside, getting up from the bed and opening the door. “Fine,” you say, gesturing for him to come in.

“It’s good to hear you talking again,” he says with a chuckle, sitting in the chair on the other side of the room. He looks as godlike as ever, his angelic features and long, golden tresses shining in the light of the lanterns. “There was a time when I thought I would never miss your voice. I realize how foolish that assumption was.”

“What do you want?” you ask, sitting on your bed.

“To apologize,” he says, his heavily-jewelled fingers folded in his lap. “I behaved horribly a few nights ago. I should have known that you were upset over my recent business, and that it was taking all of my time. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry for the fight.”

“How do I know it won’t continue?” you ask. “How do I know that this is sincere and that you won’t go back to doing the same shit tomorrow?”

“I won’t,” he promised. “I’ll divide my time between you and work. I won’t neglect again.”

You meet his eyes across the room, and you can see the sincerity in them. You sigh, standing up and walking over to where he’s sitting before perching yourself in his lap. “Apology accepted for now. But if you start again, then I won’t be so forgiving next time.”

“It won’t happen again,” he says sternly, his blue eyes blazing with fury. “You have to trust me.”

“Okay, okay, I do,” you say, grinning as you hold your hands up in mock surrender. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he says, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. “I missed a lot of things about you.”

“I’ll bet I know one thing you missed,” you say with a smirk, standing up from his lap and holding out your hand.

He takes it, to your surprise, and you lead him to the bed. Before you reach it, you use your powers to throw him onto the mattress, something that causes you both to giggle. Michael doesn’t usually allow you to use your abilities on him, but that seems to go out the window when it comes to sex. He got off on it; it was one of his deepest secrets. This powerful man, this beacon of darkness who put up a stone-cold front, was actually not as hard as he appeared to be. He had a lot of people fooled, but he could never fool you; you sensed it from the moment you met him all those years ago.

“My kinky little whore,” Michael says as you strip out of your dress. You lay yourself bare before him, his tongue running over his lips and an obvious erection pressed within the front of his dark pants. “Daddy missed his favorite slut. He missed her warm, tight cunt and how hard she cums when I tie her up and have my fucking way with her.”

“Is that what you want to do now?” you tease, straddling his waist and rubbing your wet, exposed pussy over his hard, concealed cock. “Mmm...Daddy, you’re rock fucking hard. You’re that pent up, huh?”

“It’s been /ages/ since I fucked you,” he growls, his hands squeezing your tits as your nipples perk under his touch. “Get your favorite pair of handcuffs, Y/N. Use your powers to retrieve them; don’t move off of me. I’m going to show you what happens when you act like a little brat, as you did several days ago. You’re going to see just how pent up I truly fucking am.”

—

Baby taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @angel-langdon @leatherduncan @lvngdvns @langdxn @wickedlangdon @melodylangdon @littlegirlsdontplaynice @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @frenchlangdon

[fckinsupreme]

May I please request a fic? Where Michael comes to the outpost and during his stay there, reader can sense he’s lonely just like she is. So she takes it upon herself to go to his quarters, even though they’ve never spoken a word to each other, and climb into his lap and just hold him. And instead of being the mysterious asshole everyone thinks he is, he just turns so soft and holds her so tightly and starts crying because he hasn’t had genuine touch in so long. 😁

Your heart is in your throat as your knuckles rap the door, waiting for permission to enter. Your nerves are frayed, throat dry as you try to rehearse what you’re going to say again. You spoke in your room to yourself dozens of times before coming here, and now you were going through it again in your mind. The man who called himself Langdon was waiting on the other side, a man whom you hadn’t spoken a word to since his arrival at Outpost 3. He was set to interview you at some point, but it hadn’t come yet.

You knew you were making a huge mistake. What would he say when you told him you’d sensed his loneliness? Your intuition and reading of people had been a blessing & a curse in your old life, and it appeared it was one aspect which followed you into the new world. He was a solitary figure, a loner, someone who was without touch & love. You could feel it coming off of him like heat, but there was also an undercurrent of danger that followed. He could react violently to what you say, but so what if he did? You were sick of living like this, anyway. Day in and day out, unable to go anywhere or do anything, knowing that the life you once knew would never return. What did you have to lose?

You knock again, louder this time. His voice commands you to enter, and you take a deep breath before turning the knob. Your eyes find him on his bed, sitting upon the edge in nothing but silk black boxers. His long hair cascades his shoulders, freshly washed and brushed, the smell of sweet, floral soap filling your senses. Where had he gotten that? The Sanctuary, perhaps?

“Yes?” he asks, icy blue eyes fixating upon you. “What is it?”

“I—“ you begin, the expression in his eyes making you forget everything you had planned to say. “I wanted to, uh...welcome you to the Outpost.”

“Thank you?” he says, eyeing you in distaste before turning to fluff his pillow. “Is that all?”

“No,” you say, nervously wringing your hands before sighing. “I, um....uh....”

“Spit it out,” he snaps. “I’m tired and wish to retire for the night.”

Your words are failing you. You can’t formulate a solid, coherent sentence, and you know you can’t turn back now. You walk over to him, deciding that it’s now or never and the risk is one that has to be taken. You climb into his lap, sitting sideways upon his thighs and wrapping both arms around his neck. You can feel him freezing, his muscles tense as you settle upon his lap. For several minutes, nothing happens. You’re both silent, the only sounds in the room your shared breathing and your heart thudding in your chest. He makes no attempt to push you away, and you’re surprised to see him wrapping his arms around you in return after several minutes.

“Langdon—“ you begin, but you’re cut off when you see two tears trailing down his cheeks. “Wait, are you crying?”

He shakes his head, but you can see the tears on his cheeks glowing in the candlelight. You frown, reaching out to wipe away his tears. You don’t know what’s wrong, and you wonder for a moment if you’ve done something to upset him. You make to stand, but his grip on you tightens as he shakes his head.

“No, don’t...” he says, his voice heavy with tears. “You don’t have to move. It’s just...No one has ever done this for me.”

“I know,” you say with a sad smile. “I could sense that you were lonely.”

“I am,” he says, sniffling loudly before averting his gaze from you. “I guess you could say I never had love when I was young.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, tucking some of his damp hair behind his ear. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I have never been touched or held like this,” he says. “I’ve been touched with love, but she’s...that woman is dead. She may live on in many ways, but it isn’t the same. I know it.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, feeling your own heart beginning to snap. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, it’s as if something in him has shifted. Gone is the crying boy, the sad figure whose lap you were perched, and now an angrier man sits in his place. He grabs hold of your throat, his grip bruising as he throws you onto the bed. You look up at him, both fear and arousal coursing through your veins as you meet his eyes. His own are blazing with fury, but there’s pain within, too. He brings his face close to yours, his breath sweet as it fans across your own face.

“You don’t know shit about me,” he hisses. “You think you do, but you don’t know the first thing about my life. Why don’t you run along, hm? Why don’t you go back to being the nosy little bitch that we all know you are?”

You fight a moan, coughing and rubbing your throat when he releases you. A smirk tilts his lips, and he climbs on top of you. You don’t fight him, not wanting to, desiring him in every single form that he would allow. He pins you down by your wrists, his tongue traveling over your pulse point as he grins.

“Do you want to touch me?” Michael whispers in your ear. “Do you want to be touched? I could arrange that for you. Do you think you can handle me?”

You nod, trying to hook your legs over his waist. He squeezes your wrists in warning, shaking his head. “Ah, ah. We’re doing this on /my terms/, do you understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Yes...?”

“Yes /sir/,” you say, and he grins.

“Good girl,” he says, licking your jawline. “You’re about to see how touch starved I truly am, little one. I’m going to let you go and when I do, I want you to take off your nightgown for me. You’re going to demonstrate how you touch yourself when you are alone, and I will fulfill your every desire.”

—

Baby taglist: @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @angel-langdon @leatherduncan @lvngdvns @rebelyelll @wickedlangdon @melodylangdon @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @dark-mei-rose