~𝓐 𝓦𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽~ (One Shot Book & Requests)

💨💢Michael Langdon x Male!Reader

(Season 8, Apocalypse SPOILERS!!!! Also some plot changes that are different from the show.)

He was sitting on a bench in the harshly pouring rain, almost expecting Constance to come back and save him even after all this time. He was curled into himself, grasping the sleeves of his jacket with every last thread of hope that he had left and the pounding of the rain against the sidewalk was almost like a sad song played on a violin. A song that portrayed Michael's whole life up to that waking moment, all of his mistakes that made him who he was and got him in this situation in the first place.

He had almost come to terms with it; almost come to terms with the fact that Constance had forced him out but every time he thought he did overcome it he just thought of everything he did to her and this (like many other times) lead him to a point to whence he was crying on the park bench, his tears and snot mixing with the rain and if it wasn't for the extremely hurt expression on his face you wouldn't tell he was crying.

He was still young in his mind, he didn't understand why his grandmother had kicked him out even when he had asked for help and promised he would change and he had no idea whatsoever what he was going to do after this point.

He wanted to change, he didn't want to keep hurting people but the more he tried to tell Constance that the less she believed him. He had stayed on this bench until his hair had grown to his shoulders, hallucinating vividly and only surviving off of food from kind people and the water of the rain.

Until he heard that soft voice.

"Are you okay?!" You said, holding your arm above your head to shield your eyes so you could still see and Michael's body visibly tensed when he heard your voice. He knew that voice, he had heard it before.

In the times he spent with Ms. Mead after Constance threw him away you always helped the two, despite the awful rumors. Ms. Mead would bring Michael to her home when she found him in the street and kept him for a bit, helped him get clean and shave his face, feed him and such before sending him away when she figured he was ready only to find him again a bit later and repeat the process.

He had met you first in a butcher shop, when the butcher himself was acting ever so rudely to Mead and you stepped around the aisle to shove the words up the butcher's ass and get Mead the things she needed. Whether it be threats to the butcher, kind words for Michael and Mead, or even going as far as to get her groceries for her, you always found a way to help.

Michael had begun to look forward to seeing you, your kindness was inspiring and he hoped if he stuck around you he could finally learn what kindness really meant and adapt it into his own behaviour.

Michael was a kind boy, smart and charming. The problem he faced was lack of control and the urge that his father had left him with and Michael didn't quite understand it yet but he knew somehow and someway he would and he'd learn to control it.

And now his blue eyes were looking up from his shoes shiny with rain, looking into your (e/c) ones that also had tears and Michael could see the confusion and hurt in your eyes.

"Michael what are you doing out here, you're going to get sick," you rushed to him, gently holding his arm and helping him to his feet and he leaned into you, tears rolling down his cheek silently as he cried and you pulled him under a roof with a very large canopy over the side so the both of you could get out of the cold rain.