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ahsbitch · 4 years

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A Walk In The Woods

Word Count: 5762

Summary: You find a wild Michael Langdon in the woods, and after deciding that he definitely needs some help, you invite him back home with you.

Warnings: Smut, 69ing, so obviously oral happens, Male and Female Receiving, A Bit Of Praise Kink, unprotected sex, Vaginal Intercourse, Sad Boi Michael, some cockwarming at the end (obviously I’m v into cockwarming, don’t @ me) Shitty Writing, lots of cursing, that’s all I can think of

A/N: I’m sure this is awful but idk I put effort into it so I’m posting it. Also I should totally wait to post til tomorrow bc it’s like midnight but?? I really wanted to post it today so I’m just going for it. Hope y’all enjoy, comments are Always appreciated, much love! ♥️

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

Walking barefoot in the woods was probably your most ridiculous hobby, but it was probably your favorite as well.

There was always something to discover in the woods.

You tried to take a forest walk at least once a week, on Sundays. You would be gone for hours, wandering, feeling the ups and downs of the universe all around you.

There was always something to discover in the woods, and it was always something different.

Often you would stop in sunny patches and meditated. Sometimes you could feel the musings of something greater than you, running through you.

Occasionally, you would find a wounded animal, typically just small things like squirrels or sparrows, although sometimes bigger creatures, a deer, an owl, a fox, things along those lines. You felt a responsibility to them, to help them, to clean them up and help them heal and get them better enough to go off on their journeys in life.

On this particular walk, you found a type of wounded animal you’d never dealt with before.

Michael Langdon.

You found him wandering the woods, bleary eyed, coated in scratches and sunburns.

“Are you alright, sir?” You moved slowly closer to him, not worried for yourself but afraid to startle him.

The man was beautiful, you could tell he was beneath the dirt that covered him.

You had startled him, it seemed, as he looked up at you with wild, piercing eyes, raising a hand and sending you flying back against a tree, pinning you there by the throat.

Well, fuck.

Your hands clawed at your neck in spite of yourself, trying to pull at something that wasn’t there. You wouldn’t have tried at all, if you were capable of rational thought, would have let it happen as you had great faith that the mystery man was going to let you go, but of course when one loses the ability to breathe, one’s body tends to panic in spite of what the mind may wish for.

After a few seconds, you dropped to the ground, gasping for air.

Breathe in...Breathe out...Breathe in...Breathe out...Breath in..

“I’m sorry,” You stood up, keeping your gaze on the ground but taking a step towards him.

Although you still didn’t look him in the face, you could tell just from his voice that the man was confused, wandering closer to you, “Why are you sorry?”

Shrugging, you lifted your head from the ground, although you still kept it below eye level, “I frightened you. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I,” He frowned, and you focused your eyes on his mouth, “I attacked you.”

“Because I frightened you. I was trying not to, but I did, and I’m very sorry for it.”

“Is that why you won’t look me in the eye?” He sounded curious, and his mouth curved into a funny little smile, “Because you’re sorry?”

“Because direct eye contact can be intimidating,” You explained, “I don’t want to upset you again.”

Biting his lower lip, the man extended his hand, “It’s okay. I’m... my name is Michael. I’m sorry for...what I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You took his hand, feeling a zip of electricity shoot through you, and finally looked into his eyes, “It’s okay. I’ve been hurt worse. Wasn’t a big deal. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Michael.”

Brows scrunched together over his crystalline blue eyes, Michael cleared his throat, “It’s nice to meet you too, Y/N. I’m sorry for bothering you, I- I should let you go.”

You weren’t quite sure whether he meant that literally or figuratively, as he was still clutching at your hand like a lifeline.

“Hang on,” Drawing him closer, you reached a careful hand up to his face, hesitating at the way he flinched, then stilled, his eyes flickering to the side anxiously, but allowing you to cup his cheek and examine him, “How long have you been out here?”

Michael looked unsure of himself, leaning into your hand ever so slightly and seemingly not even conscious of it, “A few days, I think. I was doing a, well, I was doing something, but it didn’t work, and then I tried to make my way back to the city, but I kinda got lost.”

“You must be starving,” You pulled away from him, straightening up, “I can take you back to the city, and you can come to my place for a little bit.”

You were already walking, and after a moment you heard Michael hurry to follow you, “What do you mean?”

“You said you were lost. I don’t think you just mean physically. Besides, you must be hungry, and no offense, but you’re kind of a mess right now,” You glanced back at him, giving a small smile when you saw his shocked expression, “You need help. I’m happy to give it.”

“Why?” Michael moved to your side, walking in step with you, “Why would you help me? What if I’m a murderer?”

“Even if you are, I don’t think you’ll murder me. If you do, I’d ask that you do it quickly, that’s just a little personal preference of mine, although of course if you’re some truly evil serial killer then I doubt you’d care much about my preferences,” Shrugging, you grasped his hand in yours and pulled him behind you, feeling another volt of electricity crackle through your veins as you led him back to the city.

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

“You have a nice place,” Michael told you hesitantly as you made your way up the front steps of your apartment building.

You almost laughed at that, but when you glanced back at him he looked so genuine in the compliment that you paused, pulling him inside, “You... you know this whole place isn’t mine, right? It’s an apartment building. My place is pretty not nice, actually. I mean, I like it, but it’s small and not very fancy, y’know?”

“Oh,” He looked a little embarrassed, and you could tell that he had thought the whole building belonged to you. He looked like someone who was used to money and big houses, or at least he looked like he would look like that if he didn’t currently look like he’d been attacked by some sort of weather monster and was now on the verge of passing out.

“Sit,” You said simply, gesturing to the couch, and you hurried to get a glass of water, handing it to him, “Drink.”

Bustling your way back to the kitchen, you looked back to see him staring at the cup, and you repeated, “Michael. Drink the water. Come on,” You turned to the plants on your windowsill, grabbing your kitchen shears, “Do you mind?”

“Do I mind drinking water?” Michael asked, confusion evident.

“Not you,” You turned to him with a smile, nodding, “You don’t have a choice there. Drink the water. I was talking to Tennyson.”

“Who’s Tennyson?”

He had finished the cup of water, and you took it and refilled it before gesturing to the aloe vera plant that you had just trimmed a stalk off of, returning the cup to him, “The plant. The full name is Aloe, Lord Tennyson.”

“You name your plants?” Clearing his throat, Michael took a sip of the new cup of water, “You... talk to your plants?”

Shrugging, you split the long leaf in half, scooping some of the gel inside onto your fingers, “Yes, and yes. Now this may hurt a bit, just a warning.”

You pressed against his forehead as gently as you could, where a large pinkish red sunburn rested, and Michael let out a hiss and suddenly you were flying across the room, hitting the wall. He didn’t hold you in place or choke you this time, at least, and in a moment he had leapt from the couch and hurried over to you, “I’m so sorry. It hurt and I wasn’t expecting it, I-”

“It’s okay,” You let Michael pull you to your feet, holding onto his hand ever more tightly as you looked at his ashen face and downtrodden expression, “I should’ve given you better warning. Listen, I’ll doctor you up later. Let’s get you in a bath, first, okay? You can bathe and I’ll make some food and then, after, we can take care of your sunburns and scrapes.”

“I keep hurting you,” Michael pulled his hand away, looking at it as though your touch had burned him, “And you keep being nice to me.”

“If you were doing it on purpose, I’d be less nice. But you’re not, I can tell. Now, follow,” You led the way to your small bathroom, starting to fill the tub with water.

Michael sat on the edge of the tub, watching you adjust the temperature and light the candles that lay at the corners and pour in some bubble bath. He stared as you moved, humming to yourself, and when you stood and started to step away, “I have some old clothes that I think will fit you. They’re not particularly fancy, like what you’re wearing now, but they’re clean. I’ll drop them off once I get some dinner started, okay?”

Nodding, Michael began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and you hurried out of the room.

He was still lost, even though he wasn’t in the woods anymore. And you were determined to help him.

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

“Y/N?” Michael called, cracking the bathroom door open, “I’m dressed and everything.”

“Great! Hop up on the counter for me, okay? Just hang tight,” You grabbed the bowl of aloe gel that you had scraped from the plant and a box of band aids and hurried back to the bathroom.

He was perched next to your sink, and you tapped at his knees. Michael frowned but opened his legs so you could stand in between them, “Why am I on your counter, exactly?”

“Because it’s time for me to play doctor. I’m going to touch your face, okay?” You cupped his cheek in your hand and tugged him down, beginning to dab gel onto his sunburns and clean the long scratches that streaked across his features, “Are you comfortable? Do the sweatpants fit okay and everything?”

“They’re fine,” Michael mumbled, flinching when you pressed a band aid to one of the deeper cuts on his forehead, his hand curling into a fist. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his other hand rest gently on your shoulder, “I appreciate you letting me borrow them. And letting me use your bathtub, and well, and everything else.”

You nodded, taking in a deep breath and finally moving your attention to notice that he was staring at you, smiling at him, “You used my shampoo.”

“Oh, yeah,” He turned pink, “Yeah, is that okay? It smelled like strawberries and it was right there so I just...”

“Of course! Not a problem at all. You smell nice,” You were looking straight at him now, and he continued to stare, and just when you’d tilted your head to the side, trying to discern what exactly Michael was thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

The hand that had rested on your shoulder came up to stroke your face, and then as quickly as it had started, it was done, and he had pulled away from you, turning his head sheepishly to the side.

Clearing your throat nervously, you stepped back, “Do you like tomato soup?”

“Yes,” Michael hopped off the counter, following you to the kitchen, although he stayed about four steps behind you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, looking at each other over bowls of soup and large dinner rolls.

Your lips still buzzed from the memory of him against you, but you tried to ignore that. Michael scarfed food down for a while, and you simply kept refilling his bowl until he finally started to slow down, and then you asked carefully, “So, Michael. What’s gotten you lost like this. Tell me where you came from. Tell me about your parents.”

“There isn’t much to tell about them,” Michael turned red, and he steadfastly refused to make eye contact with you, “My father abandoned me, and my mother tried to kill me. There’s only one person who’s ever really cared, who hasn’t abandoned me, and she’s gone now.”

“I’m sorry,” You said earnestly, letting your hand reach out just far enough to brush against his, “Humanity is unkind, often especially so to those who need kindness the most.”

Michael had a curious way of frowning, his confusion always quite evident. His eyes would widen and his brows would move, displaying everything he was feeling. It was cute, honestly.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” He said finally bluntly, having been staring at you in silence, “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re just...I mean... I was gonna try to just not mention it, but you’re so nice and I feel bad.”

“You should’ve asked first,” Drawing your hand away, you tried to make eye contact with him, but now he was avoiding your gaze, “For a lot of reasons. But I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not? I know I should’ve asked, I’m just... I’m not used to having to ask for things. I know that’s not a good excuse, but I don’t really know what to say. I’m just sorry,” Michael was frowning even deeper than before.

Shrugging, you reached back across the table, this time allowing your fingers to stroke along his jaw, “The fact that you’re sorry is enough. Just... don’t go around kissing strangers with no warning, okay?”

“Okay,” He smiled, leaning into your hand, a strange rumbling noise emanating from deep in his chest, almost like a purr.

Suddenly, you felt a bolt of desire shoot through you, seemingly out of nowhere, and you shifted a little in your seat, “Are you done eating?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you for the food. I can find somewhere to go, I’m sure,” Pulling away from you, Michael started to stand, and you rushed to stand too.

“What do you mean? Why would you go anywhere?” You grabbed his arm, trying to hold him in place even as he brushed you away.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

A burden?

“If you were going to be a burden, I wouldn’t have brought you here at all. Spend the night,” Squeezing at his wrist gently, you moved to stand in front of him.

Michael looked utterly taken aback by this, “Really? Are you sure?”

You tugged him along behind you, to your bedroom, bringing him to sit on your bed and collapsing down next to him.

“I’m sure,” Turning towards him, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and leaned forward, looking deeply into his eyes, “You’re the opposite of a burden, and I can prove it.”

Michael’s breathing hitched, and he moved closer to you, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath, “I really wanna kiss you again.”

“You can,” You said simply, wanting to kiss him very badly, but having decided that he needed to be the one to initiate it.

“But you said-”

“I said you should ask first,” You placed a hand on his cheek, feeling something crackling in the air, his skin soft against your own.

“Y/N,” Michael leaned into you, and another rumble rolled from his chest, “May I please kiss you?”

“You can do a lot more than that. I want to show you that you’re not a burden. You deserve to feel good,” And then his mouth was on yours, and something deeper than electricity was running through you.

He kissed you like a teenager, not pulling you closer to him but pushing his upper body forward, and you let out a giggle in spite of yourself.

Pulling back suddenly, Michael frowned, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry. Did I... did I do something wrong?”

“No, don’t be sorry!” You rolled your shoulders back, wishing that you two were still touching, a wave of regret hitting you when you saw the wounded look in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you, Michael, I just... I feel a lot of things right now, y’know? But they’re all good things! I’m just, well, shit, I’m rambling. I’m going to stop talking now and, uh, and take off my shirt. Take your shirt off? Please?”

Michael’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it immediately when he saw you slip off your shirt, fumbling with the fabric of his own, letting out a shout as it got stuck over his head.

“Fuck!” The fabric had bunched around his face, his voice slightly muffled, “Dammit, fucking, Y/N, help me!”

Choking back a laugh, you climbed into his lap and assisted him in wrestling off the shirt, letting another giggle slip out at his look of relief once it was free, which instantly transformed into one of shock as he looked at you, and you could feel yourself starting to blush in spite of your best attempts not to, “Okay, you good?”

He let out a slow breath, eyes trained on securely on your breasts, covered in a lacy white bra, “I’m much more than good. I’m fantastic. Can I... I mean... can I kiss you again? Can I maybe touch you?”

“I want you to feel good, Michael. Yes,” You gave him a quick kiss on the tip of the nose, smiling at the way he scrunched it up in response.

Then Michael was kissing you again, and fuck it felt good, his skin ever so slightly prickling against you, and then he raised a tentative hand to your chest, swiping across your left nipple briefly.

You let out a moan that you hadn’t expected, and he froze for a moment, beginning to slowly swirl his thumb around the covered bud. Suddenly his lips were gone from yours and wrapped around your right nipple, flicking his tongue against it experimentally, and he pulled back with a grin as you let out another breathy moan.

You sounded like a fucking porn star, what the fuck?

“Wow, you’re sensitive,” Michael teased, bringing his other hand up to replace his mouth, “Can I take your bra off?”

“I’ll get it. And I’m not this sensitive, not normally,” You panted, grinding down against him without thinking about it, reaching behind your back to unclasp, and letting out a high pitched whine when his hands were finally on your bare skin, “I mean, not like this. This is... this is you, I think.”

You could already feel him hard underneath you, but at your words his erection became even more prominent, pressed firmly against your inner thigh.

The rumbling noise came from deep in Michael’s chest once again, and you decided that it was in fact a purr, or something damn close to one. He was beaming now, and there was something almost childlike about him when he looked so joyful, and there was an obvious note of pride in his voice, “Really? Me? Do you think I could make you cum doing this?”

He pinched lightly and you gasped, head rolling back, “Probably, but not right now, okay? I wanna-fuck-I wanna-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, couldn’t think of what was supposed to come next, and carefully you gripped Michael’s wrists, pulling his hands away from you and sliding off of his lap.

With a pout, Michael watched you move between his legs, an eyebrow raised, “Was it really that intense?”

“It was,” You glanced up at him from where you now lay, pressing a soft kiss to his cock through his sweatpants, your mind still strangely fogged, “It was... weird. Good weird, but weird. Are you secretly magical or something?”

He barked a short laugh just a little too quickly for it to sound natural, but you figured that was maybe because you were mouthing along the outline of his dick, his hips bucking up every so slightly, and he was perhaps a bit too distracted to act like your terrible joke was funny.

Just as you were sliding the sweatpants down his hips, Michael threaded his hands in your hair, tugging gently so that you’d look up at him, a blissful smile on his face as he watched you, “You’re so pretty, do you know that? You’re beautiful.”

His dick had sprung out of his pants then, bouncing up to his stomach, and you weren’t able to respond at first because fucking hell, it was the most perfect dick you’d ever seen. Thick, veiny, a nice shade of pink although the tip had turned an angry red, and fuck it was big, probably too big, but you weren’t planning to complain about that. Finally, you snapped yourself out of your daze, looking back up at him with a laugh, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to suck your cock.”

“No!” Michael looked shocked by the very thought, his hips bucking again, ever so slightly, at the feeling of your breath on his skin, “No, I’m serious. You’re so gorgeous, I-fuck-” You licked a line up the length of his cock, and he grabbed desperately at your shoulders, making you pause, “Dammit, I really want you to sit on my face.”

Your thighs clenched, and you looked up at him, shaking your head to clear your thoughts, “I, I mean, no. I told you, I want to make you feel good. Not-”

“But it will!” Michael tugged at you, bringing you up until he could press a fervent kiss to your lips, “I want to. So bad. Please, Y/N, please do it. Please let me. Please.”

Fucking hell, was he trying to kill you?

“But I... I wanted you to feel good. Don’t you want me to...” You trailed off, trying to think as Michael kissed your neck.

“I do, believe, me, I really do, but I also want this.”

“I’ve never done that before,” You admitted, feeling your face get hot with embarrassment, “Honestly, I’m afraid I’d end up accidentally smothering whoever I was with.”

“That wouldn’t happen,” Michael assured, kicking his sweatpants the rest of the way off, and you find yourself peeling your own leggings off even though you still weren’t sure of what you were doing, and he hooked his fingers into your panties, a smirk on his face, “And even if it did, I can guarantee you that there would be no better way to die.”

“Okay,” You let out a deep breath, letting out a contented hiss as he brushed his long fingers over your clit, “But I still want to give you a blowjob, okay?”

“You can. Just face that way,” Michael grinned, ripping your panties off with one sharp tug.

You were about to scold him, but then his fingers were pressing into your folds, and you gave a quiet gasp, “Michael, fuck.”

He laid down, hands tapping away at his stomach as he waited for you. Hesitantly, you crawled up the bed, turning so that you could look down the length of his body, and knelt over his face.

You bent down, lifting his cock up and running your fingers along the underside of it, kissing the tip, and you felt him let out a shaky breath beneath you.

“Fucking hell, you taste amazing,” Michael whispered, wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down against him completely.

He made the purring noise once more, sucking fervently at your clit, and you let out a shriek at the feeling of it rumbling through you. Pulling your legs even further apart, he buried his tongue into your folds, and finally, you opened your mouth as wide as you could and sunk down over his cock until his tip brushed the back of your throat.

When he moved back to your clit, giving it careful kitten licks, you buried your finger nails into his thighs. At this, he groaned, thrusting up into your mouth, and you gagged.

This was... what? The third time today he’d accidentally choked you? You hadn’t been angry during any of the other times, but this was the time that probably bothered you the least.

“Sorry, babe, I’m sorry,” He rasped, and although you could hardly hear him, between the feeling of his words vibrating against you and the intense presence of Michael Langdon that filled the air around you, you knew exactly what he was saying.

Babe.

It was such a gentle word from him, the way it rolled off his tongue so naturally making butterflies start fluttering in your stomach.

Well, that, and the fact that the feeling of Michael against you was extraordinary, and you were feeling the tight, delightful bubble that signaled your impending orgasm beginning to form.

You sucked harder.

It took only a few minutes of this, of you licking and sucking, running your teeth over the pulsing vein that streaked along the side, before you felt him flex his thigh muscles beneath your hands, his salty cum splashing into your mouth.

It was sweet alongside the salty, a strange mixture of the two, not unlike a chocolate covered pretzel, and you swallowed every drop you could before licking frantically along to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

“Fuck,” He growled, something authoritative, almost dangerous, flooding through the air.

Michael lifted you off of him as though you weighed nothing more than a ragdoll and tossed you down onto the mattress on your back, his lips suctioning around your clit once again, two fingers buried deep inside of you.

You held onto his shoulders as his fingers scissored inside you, squeezing your legs tight around his head unintentionally. You felt him chuckle into your folds at that, and he removed his fingers from you momentarily to pull your legs over his shoulders.

“Michael!” You mewled, your hips straining to jolt upward, and then he was moving faster, faster, adding a third finger that brushed a spot deeper inside you than anything else had ever reached. Your entire body clenched, and then suddenly you felt the waves of your climax wash over you.

When your head was fully back, Michael had straightened up, examining his fingers, which were coated in your juices.

“Fucking hell, Michael, I didn’t need to finish just then. You could’ve waited until you were fucking me for real,” You sat up on your forearms, laughing as you looked down at him.

“Sorry,” Frowning, Michael pulled away, “Was that too much?”

Why was he so goddamn sweet?

Moving to your knees, you pulled his face up to yours and kissed him, the taste of yourself that lingered on his tongue mixing with the salty remains of Michael on your own tongue, and you let out a low groan, pulling back to give him a smile, “No. It was wonderful.”

“Okay. Can we... I mean,” He turned red, looking away from you, “Would you possibly consider riding me? Or do you want to stop now?”

You rolled to the side, gesturing for Michael to move up the bed, and after a moment he did, sitting up against the headboard. Climbing into his lap in one swift movement, you let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him against your folds, his tip pressed against your interest. He swiped his hand between the two of you, gathering the fluids that had spilled from you and rubbing it onto his cock, lubing himself up with the remnants of your last orgasm.

“Do you mind going slow?” You asked meekly, burying your face against his chest as you rocked against him, “I’m sorry, just, you’re really big.”

“Of course,” He cooed, running his hands through your hair, and finally you began sliding down the length of his cock. Burying your teeth into his neck, you tried to concentrate on how good this would feel once you got used to the stretch, the burn, and he whispered in your ear, “You’re doing so good. You-shit-you take my cock wonderfully, do you know that? It’s okay, I know it hurts, but you’re doing great.”

When you had reached the end, and you were filled to the hilt, you gave a careful roll of your hips, testing the waters. You were feeling better now, running your tongue over the spot on his neck you had bitten, before beginning to suck another hickey into his soft skin. At this, Michael bucked into you, his cock hitting all the way up against your cervix, and you let out a shriek.

You almost laughed at yourself. You had thought his fingers were impressive, but they were nothing compared to the sheer, masterful feeling of Michael inside you, his hands splayed against the small of your back, holding you in place as you leaned into him, taking one of your nipples into his mouth once again.

“You feel so good, Michael,” You cried out, and Michael made that damn rumbling noise again, “Fuck, do you know that you purr? I love it.”

Although he continued to hold you, he seemed to be trying to hold back from fucking you too harshly, instead occasionally letting himself thrust into you, his eyes rolling back in his head at the way you moaned each time. He paused, looking up at you with a frown, “I don’t purr.”

You giggled, although it quickly turned into a whimper as he began sucking hickeys into your breasts, and you squeezed his shoulders tightly to concentrate, “You do. You make lots of pretty noises. It makes sense, too. You’ve got such a pretty mouth, such a pretty face, such a pretty cock. You’re so pretty, it’s infected everything you do. And-fucking hell, that feels good-you move so well. Fill me up so well.”

Michel lolled his head back against the headboard, the purring noise coming out again as you began to grind down harder. You kissed him quickly, watching as his eyes opened suddenly, drinking you in.

“You’re perfect, Y/N, do you know that? You bounce so well on my cock, and your tits are so fucking perfect,” He paused, clearing his throat, “Was that the right thing to say? I don’t want to be disrespectful. I respect you, too, and all that. You’re just, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last.”

“It’s okay,” You reassured him, looking at his face to see that it was glistening, and it took you a moment to realize that there were tears running down his face. Kissing each one away, licking up the salty trail they had left, you resolved not to mention it or ask why, exactly, he was crying, “I’m not gonna last much longer either. I want you to cum for me, okay? Please, Michael.”

“Should I... should I pull out?” He panted, helping you roll your hips.

“You don’t have to,” Gasping, desperately, you buried your nails into his shoulders, trying to contain the climax that was beginning to boil through you, “Just, fuck, please finish soon, Michael. I’m going to-”

Nodding, Michael’s thrusting increased. Although he was still cautious, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, you could tell that he was close to his end, as well.

And he was, and he did, his cum flooding you once more just as you felt yourself boil over, heading hanging back. You couldn’t keep it up anymore, couldn’t concentrate on controlling your body and finishing, and you felt your breath catch in your throat, stars dancing through the air just in front of you.

Michael held your hips tightly as you came down from your high, and then you had buried your face against his chest once more, arms wrapped around his neck.

Christ, that took a lot out of you.

You leaned back to see that his eyes had drifted shut, and you leaned forward to press soft kisses against the lids.

When Michael blinked them back open, his mouth had curved into a sleepy smile, another purr rumbling up from his throat, “That was... wonderful.”

“I agree,” You smiled too, tilting your head to the side as he peppered gentle kisses along your throat, “Now, you’re tired. Do you want me to leave, so that you can get some sleep?”

Michael tensed, clutching at your hips desperately, “Please don’t leave. I mean, I do want to sleep. But please, stay.”

“Okay,” Mumbling softly, you leaned closer to his ear, “And by the way, I know a place you might wanna check out tomorrow.”

Looking curious at this, Michael brought his nose to your jaw, brushing along it softly, “Where?”

“Church of Satan. It’s a few blocks away.”

“What?” This snapped him to attention, and he stared at you as though you’d grown a second head, “You’re... are you a Satanist?”

“No. Not a fan of organized religions. I believe in nature, and kindness. In caring for the ones around you who need it. But,” You folded his ear forward, kissing the three small scars behind it as delicately as you could, “I think that it would be beneficial for you to go.”

“How did you know?” He shifted back so that he could sit more upright against the headboard, and you felt your sore walls pulse around his cock, still buried deep inside you, as you moved.

You shrugged, “Lucky guess. Now, that’s all. No more talk. You need some sleep.”

Michael looked like he was about to argue with you, but then you pressed your head into his chest once more, and he rested his chin contentedly on top of your shoulder.

You were almost asleep when he finally spoke up, hands rubbing gently along your spine, his voice hoarse, “Y/N? I just... I wanted to say thank you. I don’t normally say that, but you’re, well, I haven’t been treated with this much kindness, this much care, in a long time. Don’t say anything, I don’t want you to say anything, I just needed to tell you. Thank you.”

And within moments his breathing had shifted, and he snored quietly, softly, and the snores sounded an awful lot like purrs, and the two of you were as close to each other as was physically possible, his dick softened inside you and his arms wrapped around you, and then you were asleep too, the two of you floating to a dream land that you couldn’t quite name.

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asmalltowngirl · 2 years

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Guys he’s literally so attractive it hurts

#cody fern #michael langdon #sojourn Michael #ahs apocolaypse #ahs

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dailylangdon · 3 years

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What Your Favorite Michael Langdon Says About You

Disclaimer: This is simply a bit of fun and is based off of how I see this character! Don't take it to heart. I'm just a goober on the internet! 💙

Outpost Michael

Can you say, "daddy issues?"

I feel like you either are older/more ready to settle down OR

You feel very vulnerable and just want someone who can take care of you

You may have grown up having a thing for anime boys

Or David Bowie in Labryinth

Or Loki

You may also have gender/fashion envy because we all know Outpost Michael's look is just Immaculate

Fire and Reign Michael

Hey

Are you okay?

You seem like a kinky motherfucker.

Maybe a bit of a sadist.

If you could have love or power, you'd choose power.

You wanna feel that red gloved hand around your throat.

Have you ever heard the song "Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave? I think you'd like it.

You may have had your share of revenge fantasies

Sojourn Michael

Me too, me too!!

You really need a hug, don't you?

You are feeling incredibly lost and like you have no idea what you're doing

If someone is nice to you for like half a second, you love them

Conversely, you may have a bit of a need or want to take care of someone

You are a very caring person

Hawthorne Michael

You have fantasies about being the "chosen one"

Maybe you read Harry Potter growing up

You just wanna fit in

You put a lot of pressure on yourself

Were you a "gifted child" who grew up to be a struggling adult?

Grunge Michael

You had a thing for Tate in Murder House, didn't you???

You're attracted to more boyish types

Sometimes, you feel kinda lonely

You may fall in love too easily

You have a bit of a zest for life and are ready to take on the world.

Murder House Michael

I'm not quite sure you exist BUT

You are Baby

You must be Protected

Or you wanna be the one doing the protecting

Not really sure what's going on

So many emotions that you can't make sense of things

Tags: @confettucini @sojournmichael @instinctsxbaby @wroteclassicaly @langdonfairies @littledemondani

#michael langdon #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #american horror story apocalypse #ahs headcanons #(kind of???)#my stuff #mine #my writing #i forgot what my writing tag is Oops #sorry for the projection with sojourn michael but LISTEN

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taehyungsgrowl · 2 years

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glass shattered on the white cloth… everybody moved on

but i stayed there… dust collected on my pinned-up hair…

#sorry i just … miss sojourn michael #eva babbles #the feminine urge to wanna take care of him #michael langdon #cody fern #ahs #ahs apocalypse

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kissxmedeadly · 3 years

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🥀 sojourn!Michael icons 🥀

like/reblog if you save/use

#my edit #boy in the woods #ahs apocalypse #ahs edit #american horror story #ahs fandom #ahs #cody fern #cody fern edit #michael langdon #antichrist #sojourn!michael #ahs icons #cody fern icons #michael langdon icons #ahs screencaps #michael langdon edit #american horror story apocalypse

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itsgrishaverse · 3 years

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Asking him to be your fake date.

prompt : listen. your parents are coming over with the idea of meeting your “partner.” only that, you broke up with them months ago and you have nothing left, but to ask your favorite person a favor.

Characters : Michael Langdon x reader.

— grudge Michael.

( he’s over 19 here! )

— Hawthorne Michael.

— Sojourn Michael.

— Outpost Michael.

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mrkvhs · 3 years

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❛ . . . MICHAEL ㅤ─ (つ﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ ˚ ㅤ ICONS !!

𐐒(つ﹏<) ㅤ── LIKE / REBLOG IF USING

𐐒(つ﹏<) ㅤ── DON'T CLAIM AS YOURS

#rp icons #american horror story #cody fern #ahs icons #ahs michael #icons #michael langdon #actor icons #cody fern icons #ahs cast #sojourn michael #cody fern ahs #messy icons #icons with psd

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missmewts · 3 years

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congregation//michael langdon

pairings; sojourn michael langdon, atheist gender neutral reader

rating; pg13

warnings; some harsh language

fuuuck this gif gives me 🌊coochie butterflies🌊

they had been waiting. the church, anti-church if you will, has been waiting for this "anti-christ" for months. as much as you wanted it to happen, for this person to show up, you losing were hope. surely, the lord would grant his followers some sort of reward? the church did sacrifices, group rituals, even routine solo practices to prove devotion.

but everyone still showed up with bright optimism. you sat in the back, like you always did. every so often, a homeless wondered in. they often sat in the back, as to not disrupt, and on the seat closest to the door as a precaution. they were often thirsty and hungry.

which means, you weren't surprised when a tired, scruffy man with baggy clothes, baggy from loss of weight had stumbled in. he glanced at the closest bench, at you. you scooted over to the left, leaving plenty of room for him at the end. he looked famished.

he took your invitation, sitting down as quietly as possible. your backpack made a soft noise as you sat it between the two of you. he crossed his arms and leaned back a bit. when he did, his back popped quietly. his head seemed to lower, his eyes close. after a few minutes of sharing sins with the congregation, you unzipped your bag and reached in. with your free hand, you tapped his elbow.

his head lifted slowly, and he turned his head at that same speed. his eyes were narrow, nearly shut. you couldn't quite tell what color they were. his bottom lip trembled, it almost seemed like he was holding back tears.

he lifted his head a bit more when your hand slipped out of your bag, a small plastic bag between your fingers. your free hand dipped in, and pulled out a bottled water. with both items now out, you moved your bag back to the floor between your feet, and set the two in the empty space between your thigh and his. he eyed it lazily, his head lolled slightly. with a hesitant, shaking hand, his fingers grasped the sandwich bag.

he looked on at you with furrowed eyebrows, but you had looked back up to the front. as the congregation began murmuring, you leaned to the right, slightly. 'how long has it been since you've ate?' you whisper. he sighs. 'what's it to you?' he sounds young; around your age.

you lean back. 'just trying to help, man. you don't look too good.' he eyes you, watching you turn straight. he sighs, rubbing his eyes and taking a bite of the ham sandwich, a small bit of mayonnaise painting the corner of his lips. he closes his eyes with annoyance when you speak up again, fighting off a migraine.

'y'know,' you begin, grabbing your backpack and scooting over a bit so you don't have to talk so loud. 'i can fix you some dinner or something. run a shower.' you say, zipping your bag back up. 'the apartment is only, like, three blocks away.' you say, half expecting him to say no and accuse you of trying to kidnap him.

instead of doing that, he wipes mayo from his lips, and looks at the sandwich. he wasn't dead yet; that's a good sign. 'thats...really nice of you.' you chuckle. 'yep. and you're still an ass.'

that seemed to get his attention.

'um.. actually,' the man took another bite of his sandwich and opened the water bottle, holding the sandwich in front of his mouth as a way to tell you he isn't done. 'i think.. i think we should do that.' you snorted. 'don't even know my name and you're already trying to get me in bed.' you tease, taking the sandwich bag and stuffing it in your blazer.

the man's dirty cheeks flushed red. 'what?'

you tucked your bag under your arm and reached out with that hand. '[y/n].' he switches the sandwich to his other hand, and shakes yours.

'michael.'

#michael Langdon #ahs #ahs apocalypse #sojourn michael is incredibly sexy #fanfic

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crown-ov-horns · 5 months

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Michael Langdon in "Sojourn"

American Horror Story: Apocalypse

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outpostmichael · 3 years

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Tell me I'm wrong 😂

#Young!Michael is so sweet #And David is the only reasonable person #Sojourn!Michael is a fucking mess #michael langdon #cody fern #american horror story #ahsedit #ahs apocolaypse #antichrist #xavier plympton #Ahs 1984 #Duncan shepherd #House of Cards #Jim Mason #The tribes of palos verdes #Outpost!Michael

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carnalpleasure · 4 years

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Michael x Angel!Reader 👼

hi!! i’ve had this idea in my head for months and finally felt inspired to start it tonight. i’m still working on my other two fics.. but Michael’s been calling to me lately💕

Summary: The reader assigns herself to be Michael’s guardian angel. This takes place at the beginning of Sojourn, with Michael in the wilderness. But takes a slightly different turn <3

Every human being in the history of humanity had been born with a guardian angel. The precious moment a newborn baby breathes its first breath of life, an angel is assigned to be their lifelong guardian. The angel’s main mission being to protect their human ward from the dark forces that had plagued the earth for all eternity. Ever since the serpent seduced Eve into her first bite of the knowledge of Good and Evil.

But that streak was broken one day in late March of 2012, when Vivian Harmon gave birth to Satan’s only begotten son.

She was the Anti-Mary. Instead of a blessed virgin being touched by an angel, she was a victim of a demonic sexual assault. She died giving birth to the Antichrist.

Michael Langdon was Satan’s very first creation. Because he was not a child of God, he was not born with a guardian angel. His father didn’t bother to assign him a guardian demon either. The spawn of Satan was left in the hands of none other than his grandmother Constance, whom his father felt was perfect for raising the little monster.

When Michael outgrew her, his father introduced him to Anton Lavey, one of his most trusted followers, who would then introduce Michael as the heir to the Church of Satan.

Michael, however, didn’t really take to Anton. He felt much closer to another key member of the church, Miriam Mead. She took a liking to the boy too and lovingly welcomed him into her home, where she taught him all about rituals, prayers, Black Mass, satanic prophecy.. She was preparing him for the apocalypse. His destiny, as they’d all say.

Once Michael began becoming aware of his powers, his father then led him into the hands of the Warlocks. They thought they were training him to be their next Supreme, but he only needed them to show him how to use his powers. They were disposable beyond that.

Michael was a loyal son, never questioning his father’s decisions, until his beloved Ms. Mead was permanently taken from him by the witches. Cordelia was right, why did he let this happen?

In search of answers, Michael fled to the wilderness on a quest. Jesus had spent 40 days out in the desert being tempted by Satan himself before his own Father finally spoke to him. Michael decided he had to do the same.

That’s when he wandered out into the forest on the outskirts of LA and started to trace a pentagram in the dirt, tired and out of options.

“I’m not going any further,” he sulked, dragging the jagged stone across the ground. “Father, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded, out of breath as he finished carving his sigil into the soil.

“I’m not leaving this circle until you talk to me,” he pouted stubbornly. “They’re gone.. the warlocks.. my Ms. Mead. Burned alive at the stake by the witches. Until nothing was left but ash and smoke,” his voice was breaking but he was too exhausted to cry.

“You tell me what to do,” he sighed, “or you let me die here.” Then he fell to his knees in the center of the circle and waited for a sign.

He watched the sun set and rise four times before he finally had a vision. But even then, he couldn’t be sure if he was seeing a sign or just suffering from severe dehydration.

He saw a little boy offering a cold grape Fanta, and a little girl holding a basket of red apples, and he thought maybe God was trying to tempt him into the light now. To distract him from his mission and derail him from his destiny.

He refused, “No, I’m on a mission. I have to talk to my father,” he said weakly. “Leave me alone.” Then the visions turned dark. He was taunted by Ms. Mead and then praised by Anton Lavey.

“You’re not real. None of this is.. re-real.” He shook his head and raised his hand to shield his face from the blinding light that was radiating from the High Priest before him.

“You’ve done a great job.” The Satanist proudly smiled. “No..” Michael protested, “I failed. I-I’m lost. I don’t understand my purpose,” he was out of breath and at a loss for words. He was tired of games, all he wanted was his father’s help. Everything was spinning.

The vision of Anton continued reciting to him from the prophecy in Revelation, calling him the Alpha and the Omega. Michael couldn’t take it anymore. He made a lunge for Anton, wrapping a hand around his throat to choke him out. Only seconds later, the vision vanished altogether.

And that’s when he saw you. The last thing he remembered was an impossibly beautiful girl with big white wings and a little white dress. He fell to his knees again, in shock and exhaustion, and collapsed into her arms. He felt the warm, soft embrace of feathers, and then he fell into a much needed sleep.

When he awoke a day later, he was still pretty disoriented from the lack of food, water, and sleep. His mind was a haze. He didn’t realize where he was, he only knew that this bed was softer than anything he’d ever felt.

The blankets felt like fluffed up clouds and the pillows smelled like lavender. A cool breeze caressed his skin, and he noticed the temperature of the room was significantly cooler than anything he’d felt in a long time. That radiating heat that seemed to consume him constantly just wasn’t there.

He reached his hand out to feel along the bed. Empty. He opened his eyes, hoping to see the angel from his dreams sitting there watching over him. But the room was empty too.

He sat up in bed, clutching the sheets and looking around anxiously. The room was nice, but it wasn’t anything extreme. It was kinda charming actually, soft and cozy. It didn’t look like anyone had been living here for very long.

Michael climbed out of bed, stepping foot on the soft, plush carpet and smiling at the touch. He walked towards the bedroom door which was just barely cracked open, and stuck his head out slowly to peak outside.

You were in the kitchen, digging around in the refrigerator when you heard him come out. You twisted around, bumping the fridge door shut with your hip and then dropping everything on the counter.

“You’re up already? Are you feeling okay?” The pained look on his face made you worry. He looked exhausted still, leaning against the doorway just to hold himself up.

You rushed to his side, a little faster than humanly possible, and wrapped an arm around his waist to help him steady himself. He leaned into your embrace but winced a little at your touch. His body was sore everywhere.

He couldn’t stop staring at you. Almost glaring, looking at you like you’d just lied straight to his face. You walked him to the counter, sitting him down across from you and then running back to quickly check the stove. He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time.

“I’m making you a breakfast feast,” you smiled at him over your shoulder. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days..”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected. “But wh-who are you? How did I get here?”

You smiled gently, passing him a plate of bacon and eggs to get him started while you finished the french toast. “I’m Y/N, I brought you here,” you said happily.

He kept looking you up and down. You looked exactly like he remembered, but you were now missing one unique, defining feature..

“Are you-“ he couldn’t bring himself to say the word out loud. It didn’t seem possible to him. “You had.. wings before,” his brow furrowed in confusion and his glare returned.

You simply nodded, glancing over at him and frying a piece of toast in the pan. “You remembered,” you said with a smile.

His confusion only grew. You poured him a glass of milk and then slid the fork closer to him. “Eat, please. We have plenty of time to talk later. I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” you brushed his blonde curls out of his face and the divine touch of your fingers briefly lingered on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

He hesitated, picking up his fork and taking a bite. It wasn’t just the starvation talking, he genuinely enjoyed your food. He immediately started feeling his strength and energy coming back. He felt revitalized.

It wasn’t just the food. Something about your presence was so satisfying to him. You brought him a kind of merciful peace that was only reserved for the saints. He didn’t need confirmation, he knew in his heart you were something holy. And he only hoped that you didn’t know what he truly was. If you ever fell in love with him, it would be your fall from grace.

“You’re an angel,” he whispered softly. His heart was pounding. He felt like he was committing a crime just by being in your presence. He felt like God would smite him any minute just for laying eyes on you.

You cupped his face in your hands gently, wiping away a stray tear that fell from his eyes. “As of today, I’m officially a guardian angel,” you smiled proudly. Your eyes actually twinkled, it completely captivated him.

“Guardian? Who’s guardian?” his pouty lip quivered and you could see all the new emotions swirling around him like a hurricane. He couldn’t believe any of this was really happening. He thought he must’ve been dreaming. He wasn’t dead, he knew that. He was destined for hell and there’s no one like her down there.

He was so cute. “Yours, duh” you giggled, letting go of his face and playfully tousling his blonde locks. He looked up at you with a small smirk that spread into a big smile. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. “How?-“ he silently mouthed as the words he was looking for escaped him.

“You didn’t have one,” you shrugged. “So I.. guess you could say I volunteered.” You didn’t want to overwhelm him with too many details, but the adorable confused puppy look on his face was begging for answers. “Volunteered?” he repeated, cocking his head to the side curiously. He wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“I just thought you should have someone looking out for you too.. you know. You didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Not by God or anyone.” You said it with such sincerity, he could see it on your face how strongly you felt about those words.

His eyes started to overflow with tears but he couldn’t help but smile. It was the single kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. That’s when it hit him. You already knew what he was. You knew who he was. And you were willing to go against both God’s will and Satan’s to take over as his protector. You left heaven just for him.

He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and quietly sobbing into your chest. Tears of pure joy and gratitude. Little “thank yous” whispered on repeat against your skin, so close you can feel his lips brushing across your collarbones with each word.

He snaked his arms around your waist tighter and tighter, pulling you as close to him as physics would allow. It melted your heart how close he wanted to be to you.

“Aw.. you just want to be held,” you giggled, putting your arms around his shoulders and hugging his body closer to yours. “I’m here, Michael. I’ve got you now. You’re safe, you’re mine,” you cooed, your lips brushing against his temple.

His eyes were closed and his face was pressed against your chest, all he heard was a swift whoosh as your wings suddenly appeared, folding around both of your bodies like a soft shield tucking him into you. He’d never felt so safe before, all nestled in your feathers.

He peaked his eyes open to look around at them. “That’s fucking awesome,” he muttered softly, his jaw dropping as his eyes shot up to meet yours. You smiled down at him, kissing his forehead. You couldn’t help but giggle. He made you feel giddy, the way he looked at you. Like you were made of magic.

“My own guardian angel,” he said quietly to himself, still in awe of it all. He refused to let go of you for the rest of the day after that. All he wanted to do was lie in your arms. Feel your embrace. And you were happy to oblige because he needed to rest anyway. The two of you returned to your bed where he spent the rest of the night on your chest, fast asleep in your arms. The safest place he could ever be.

💕taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid @angelicmichael @thewarriorprincessxo

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon au #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon x angel!reader #sojourn!michael #ahs au #michael langdon x female reader #michael x angel!reader

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ahsbitch · 4 years

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Michael Langdon As Gina Linetti Quotes (Part 1)

+BONUS

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beautyiswithinchaos · 4 years

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Home

*** disclaimer: all new work is here @chaos-is-beautifvl ***

a/n: having a sad day so i decided to write something angsty but sweet to make myself feel better

this is with sojourn!michael because why not? anyway, enjoy my loves!

summary: broken souls can be mended when you find something like home (weird summary, but you get the gist ... well i hope you do)

word count: approx. 1.4K (she’s full of angst but w/ a happy ending)

---

“Y/N! Get over here!”

You let out a sigh, tossing down the dough you had been kneading. You made your way to the front of the restaurant to see your boss standing with the work schedule in his hands.

“Yes, sir?”

“I need you to work the night shift.”

You stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” You had been the only employee pulling the weight lately, coming in earlier and staying later than usual.

“Angela has to leave early today.” He said, typing something on his computer. “And Bryan is sick.”

“No offense, sir, but I was supposed to be leaving early today since I’ve been staying so late.”

He turned to you, raising an eyebrow, “I thought you were an employee-“

“I am, but-“

He was quick to cut you off, “No buts. As an employee, whenever there’s an issue, you pick up the slack. Now, is there a problem?”

You opened your mouth before closing it in defeat. There was no reason to argue. “No, sir. No problems at all.”

I’m going to quit one of these days, you thought as you headed back to the kitchen.

---

It was near closing time, well, for you, that is. Everyone had left, and you were picking up the slack per usual. You might as well be promoted to manager with how you had been doing.

You were cleaning off the counter when the bell above the door rang. You sighed for the hundredth time that day as you went to pick up your notepad.

You stepped up to their table, pencil in hand, ready to take their order. “What can I get you?”

When the person didn’t answer, you lifted your head and had to hold in your shocked gasp. The man sitting in the booth was beautiful, to say the least. The thing that stood out to you, however, were the prominent purplish eyebags and cuts he sported on his face. His ocean blue eyes were bloodshot eyes and it looked like he had been crying for hours on end. His blonde hair was matted as if it hadn’t been washed in days, if not weeks.

You shook your head, silently berating yourself for staring, “Sir?”

He, too, seemed shaken from his reverie, turning to you with a sullen look. “Anything is fine.”

You nodded before turning on your heel and walking behind the counter. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t want to intrude on his personal life.

You fixed him up a burger and fries along with a cup of water. The old woman, who took reservation at the counter, flashed you a smile when you came to pick up her empty plates before handing you a $10 tip for keeping the doors open so late.

Well, at least something good came out of today.

You made your way over to the man and set the food and drink down. Looking around, you took note of the fact you and him were the only people in the diner and sat down across from him.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you didn’t want to scare him. He didn’t say anything, eyes still downcast to the glossy tiles on the table.

“Do you want me to leave you alo-?” Before you could finish your question, he spoke.

“No.” His voice was raspy, probably from disuse. You nodded, settling back down in the booth.

“You should eat your food.” You said gently, pushing the plate over to him some.

“I don’t deserve to eat.”

“What do you mean?” You were confused. What happened to make him feel that way?

“My mother hates me, my grandmother killed herself because of me, the only person who cared about me was killed, and my father left me.”

You stared at him in shock. He had said it so… bluntly. You cleared your throat before speaking, “Wow... I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter or that you should take care of yourself.”

He shrugged measly, body slumped in what looked like complete defeat. He looked so tired, so ready to give up on everything.

You bit your lip, contemplating what you were about to say. When you came to a conclusion, you looked over to him, “Why don’t you finish your food and maybe… only if you want to.” He raised his head, the light gone from his eyes.

“You could come home with me? I can let you take a warm shower. Maybe some comfy clothes? And a bed?”

He didn’t respond, only eyeing the glass of water in front of him. You looked down, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. I’ll- uh I’ll leave you alone now.”

“You can stay.”

And after that he didn’t say anything, only slowly eating his food and taking small sips of the water with trembling hands in between.

Once he was finished, you took the plate and cup into the kitchen before walking back out and shutting off the lights.

You came back over with the keys in hand. “Hey, you ready to go?” He nodded, standing up slowly, and that’s when you noticed the torn shirt on his body and the crooked, dirty tie on his neck. You walked him outside, turning to lock up.

On the drive to your apartment, he didn’t say anything, looking out the window with a distant look on his face. He looked so broken, and all you wanted to do was help him.

You dropped your keys for the third time, and a curse left your mouth. Hearing a huff of breath, you looked up to see a very tiny smile on his face.

Once you made it inside, you directed him to the bathroom, telling him that you’d find some spare clothes for him. You had never been happier to have a plethora of oversized shirts and baggy sweats.

The shower had stopped running a while ago, but he had never come out, so you knocked on the door softly. “Is everything okay?”

There was a muffled sound coming from inside. You placed your ear to the door and could hear quiet sniffling. “I’m going to come in, okay?”

Cracking open the door, you took in the sight of him hunched over, sitting on the floor, only wrapped in a towel. His shoulders shook as tears silently rolled down his face. You got on the floor beside him, wrapped your arms around his body, shushing him.

A few minutes had passed, and he had stopped crying. He looked over to you, eyes bloodshot, “Why am I not good enough?”

“You are good enough.” He shook his head, “No. No, I’m not. If I was, no one would leave time and time again.”

There was so much hurt in his voice. You grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But you are good enough. And I know we just met a couple of hours ago, and I don’t even know your name, but I want to help you, help you not feel so… broken.”

There was silence for a bit before you gave him privacy to change. He came to your room, standing in the doorway. You smiled at him, patting your bed.

“You can sleep here. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” When you turned to leave, a hand shot out and grabbed yours. “Don’t leave. I don’t…” He looked down at the floor, “I don’t want to be alone.”

You climbed into bed with him, making sure to leave a good distance in case he didn’t like contact. The sound of the clock on the wall filled the room along with the sounds of a car passing by now and then.

“Michael.”

You turned on your side, facing him, his tired, blue eyes meeting yours. “What?”

“Michael,” he repeated. “That’s my name.”

“Hi, Michael. I’m Y/N.” He cracked a very tiny smile at your introduction. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I just want to make you feel better.”

“I think I’m too broken for that,” he chuckled dryly. His face dropped as he averted his gaze, overcome with sadness.

“Being broken only means you’re not complete yet. All you have to do is find the right pieces.” You placed your hand on top of his under the blanket, “Just because you’re lost doesn’t mean you can’t find your way home.”

Just before he closed his eyes, he muttered under his breath:

“You’re starting to feel like home.”

—

a/n: all done! i just want to give him a hug and tell him everything will be alright 🥺

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs imagines #ahs #ahs x reader #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x y/n #michael langdon x you #sojourn!michael

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