#short Fic

[forthefictionallesbians]

Mol gaped as the random local chat feature finished selecting their conversation partner. 6 trophies. Whoever PrecociousPearl35 was, they had 6 little animated trophies bobbing and glittering after their grey username. Mol glanced at their own screen name, also in grey, trailed by a few animated decals for the various in-person community events they had attended. None half so prestigious as even a single trophy. Those were only awarded to those who took part in one of the locally televised invite-only domestication games, and won.

Only a few thousand independents per planet had a chance to compete in those games each year, pulled from those who had survived the most sub-events. At that level, it was uncommon for there to be even a single survivor. Those who did often became famous. Mol had memorized the names of every single winner their homeworld had produced in the last five years. The fact that the list had a single-digit number of names made it easy.

To have six trophies, while keeping the grey shade that was the only pallet option for independents on this overnet site, was unheard of. It was revolutionary. It should be sung of by independents (and even feralists) across the entire galaxy. So why had Mol never heard of this person?

A chat bubble rose from the bottom of the screen, pushing up the TOS niceness reminder and suggested conversation starters, given by a cutesy animated floret leashed to a smiling affini. As if anyone needed a reminder that nothing was private from humanity's conquerors.

> haiii!!! how r u??

Mol blinked. It was a much more floret-y opening than they'd expected. Pushing through the flash of surprise, they responded.

> Hello! I'm doing alright, thank you.

> Did you really beat the affini at their own game 6 times???

The answer was undoubtedly a yes; the amount of dedication the affini put into accurately tracking and verifying even the most trivial of information meant there was no way it could have been given incorrectly. But Mol needed to hear it from their-- they moused over the stranger's profile, checking pronouns and bio info while waiting for them to finish a response-- from her mouth.

> yeeee!!! m just 2 fast 4 the feenies heeheehee ;)

Mol would be lying if they said the overly cutesy speak wasn't grating on them slightly. They already dealt with it from the florets that surrounded them, manning the shops, flooding the parks, flirting with each other on every tram and street corner. Even many independents had begun adopting it, as their culture and population alike were rapidly assimilating under the Compact. Mol had slipped into it themself on occasion, a secret shame they kept from their current friend group.

They found it frustratingly incongruous that this paragon of human resilience, someone who had made it through six of the propagandistic gauntlets of drugs and snuggles, would sink to floret-speak. It seemed beneath one like her. Not that Mol was really in a place to criticize anything Precocious did when it came to resisting the affini's mental hegemony, they supposed. Six wins.

Regardless of her mode of speaking, each trophy proved her to be a uniquely talented individual. If this wasn't a place she held firm, then surely she had some other secret to her victories. Mol slid their cursor over each trophy's glimmering icon in turn, each one giving off a shower of particle effects before displaying an info box.

There wasn't any common theme they could see, and each game was different. Implant Imposter. Hedge Game. Enter the Vault. Hide and Domesticate. Treaty Tumult. Sunlight Sprint, Nightlight Nap. Each one relying on a variety of skills, from stealth to raw speed to timed contract parsing. All done on a level that would have been locally broadcast, with the infotips helpfully providing planet/system info. She had been trouncing affini across half the old Terran Accord. How had Mol not heard of her? Precocious should have been famous across the sector!

> That is so impressive, P!! How in the world did you manage to show them what for so many times without getting snatched up? > o its ez! but its also a biiiiiiiiig secrettttt ;)))))

> Something you can't discuss on the overnet?

It would make sense if not. Every message was parsed by AI and affini agents alike for hints of feralism, lack of self care, or even loneliness. If Precocious' success had come from bypassing their checks to compete while biologically augmented, or--

> nahhh the feenis kno. u cant tell any othr independents tho ;)))))))))))))))))

What? Even with the escalating size of the winky emoticon repulsing them slightly, Mol needed to understand.

> Why not? > becuz it woud brake their brains tee hee and i wanna b there 2 c it when it happns

A shiver ran down Mol's spine. What was that supposed to mean? They double checked Precocious' nameplate, mousing over it again to confirm that, yes, she was an independent. The wrongness of this conversation was starting to weigh on them. Something wasn't adding up. Were they being tricked somehow? Quickly, they opened another window and typed out a quick search before responding.

> Okay. I promise not to tell anyone. What is it?

The response bubble appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. Anxiety settled over them. Mol took the time to browse the news articles and forum posts their search had pulled up, all verifying the validity of the website's trophy icons. Each win, being celebrated with particular gusto by the local affini, because-- with a satisfying woosh, a notification of messages received popped up on Mol's screen.

> its becuz im fighting 2 stay with my mistress!! sinse she hasnt florted me yet its a fun risk 4 both uv us!!!!! so i hav 2 try extra extra extra hard 4 mistress sinse im just her ward > and then when i win and the othr sophies c that the only winnr is a neerly florted ward they giv up and find mistresses ov there own!! eh heh heh heh > mistress says hi cutie btw!!! i bet ur very cute

Mol sat with the response for a long moment. They felt like their brain wasn't working. The flash-forged hopes and expectations of two heady minutes ago were shattering around them. Was this really it? Was this the quickest, smartest, most cunning and athletic individual humanity had to offer? A barely-not floret driven by the risk of losing herself to an unfamiliar mistress? Obviously not, domestication games only measured a tiny sliver of human attributes, and could come down to luck as much as anything else. But even so, Mol couldn't help but feel something shift inside them. Suddenly, the bold proclamations of their new friends, that the human spirit would always be best expressed in independence and isolation from their conquerors, seemed frivolous.

Their chest ached slightly. Mol had never been more aware that they were a sophont under the Affini Compact, using their tech, benefiting from their veterinary care, destined inevitably for domestication. Whether they were claimed now or when they became too old and feeble to argue for independence, there was no escape. Not for them, not for Precocious, not for their entire race. This was the future of humanity. A deep tremble ran through them. From the screen, another message popped up.

> did u break 2, Mol? :P

[maritheillusion]

Just a pretty thing ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

You were walking through the forest, in a hurry once again, trying to distract yourself from the rustling of the leaves breaking that the footsteps behind you cause.

"Pleasee, just listenn" The handsome man whines as he follows you, trying to keep up with your pace.

"I'm listening," You respond with a tone of slight irritation, if he keeps trying to stop you like this you will be later than ever to work.

The nymph gently grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, making you look at his beautiful pouty expression.

"You never give me the attention I want! You're always making excuses!" The man says in an almost childish manner, lightly stomping his foot on the ground, typical behavior of his.

"Ephisis, put your head together just for a moment, I have things to do, I work, you're a nymph, all you need to do is take care of the plants and be pretty!"

Hearing the last sentence, Ephisis's upset expression quickly changes, his eyes shining with love.

"You think I'm pretty?"

[olailamajnoon]

Jason appeared one morning on a summer's day. He was fresh and clean, and missing his customary violent tissue scars.

Bruce saw him enter the Manor, and held his breath. He didn't want to shake anything, shake the universe in any way to make Jason go away.

It's a dream, he said to himself. The Red Hood swallowed up my son. It's a dream.

Dream-Jason spoke up, munching Froot-n-Nuts in the kitchen. "Bruce. Where the fuck is everyone?"

Bruce stared in horror. Jason's face was clean of any hate. Why? He knew, then, that something was Very Wrong.

"No one is here," he said casually. "The house is empty, as you can see."

Jason nodded okay, and moved to go upstairs. "Jason," Bruce called. "What are you doing?"

"Going to my room!" Jason called. "I wanna see it! I know I don't live here anymore, but—I wanna see."

"Okay," said Bruce, already speed-dialling Dick. "Jason! Don't run up the stairs!"

"Okay," Jason called meekly.

Dick arrived in half an hour, to find Bruce and Jason sitting next to each other, watching Prince of Egypt.

"Wha—" he almost said, but Bruce shushed him with a finger. "Come, take a seat!" Jason called.

"Wha—" said Dick again, but then he caught Bruce's gaze from the corner of his eye. Bruce was warning him to keep silent.

When there was a popcorn break, Dick and Bruce conferred in the kitchen.

"The last thing he remembers," said Bruce, "is Zatanna."

"Zatanna did this?"

"She hasn't been answering my calls." Bruce roamed angrily, his hands tight by his sides. "She fucked with my son."

"She took away his anger! His—" Dick searched for a word.

"Hate," said Bruce. "That's what you're looking for."

"And without those things? He's like a lobotomized sheep!" Dick was angrier than Bruce had ever seen him. But then a sound came from inside the room, and both Dick and Bruce opened the door to find Jason playing with a sleepy Ace. The loyal old dog was licking Jason's fingers, and Jason was laughing.

Literally and actually laughing.

The two men looked at the boy Jason had become. The wonder and innocence in his eyes.

"Is this what he would have been like," Bruce murmured deadly, "if the world hadn't found him and taken him apart."

"I don't know," said Dick, with hot bitter desperation, "but that kid in there? That's not Jason. Not my brother."

"Hey Dick!" Jason called, and then snickered. "You remember how we used to take Ace out on walks while it was freezing, after making him wear the dog sweater?"

And Dick looked numbly at Jason's expectant, childlike face, and burst into tears.

[moodyvoid]

Touya’s been slumming it on the streets for a while now. Pick pocketing here and there, even mugging and robbery in desperate times.

He’s eyeing a couple walking down the alleyway, deciding they look like good enough targets.

You and your sort-of-ex-boyfriend have finally gotten together to grab lunch after some time separated. You consider maybe giving him another chance, after all, he really didn’t mean to steal $200 from your bank account to spend on Onlyfans.

You pause in the alleyway as another figure approaches you. Before he can even finish his sentence, “Hand over your wallet—” your boyfriend pushes you forward, you falling to the ground in front of the attacker.

Touya pauses watching the absolute pansy of a man high-tail it out of the alleyway, you sitting on the ground also watching him scramble back out to the street.

Did he piss himself?

You slowly turn your gaze to the pierced man. He looks down at you, pity on his face as he holds out his hand to you.

You take his hand, standing up. “I don’t have much.” you begin.

“Nah, forget it.” Touya replies.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you need the money for?” you ask.

He hesitates for a moment.

Why would you care?

“Food.” Touya says.

You pause, looking down at the bag that carried your now definitely ex-boyfriend’s leftovers. You hand it over to him.

“Here. It’s soba.” you say.

Touya takes the bag, looking it over. “Thanks…”

You nod and turn to exit the alleyway.

“What’s your name?” Touya asks.

You turn back, “Y/n… yours?”

Touya pauses for a moment, he’s been going by the name Dabi for a few months now, but for some reason when he opened his mouth— “Touya.”

You give a soft smile, “Enjoy your soba, Touya.”

Touya nods in response and watches you as you leave the alleyway.

Why did he tell you his real name? Why did it sound so sweet when you said it?

“Y/n…” he repeats, your name tasting just as sweet on his tongue.

“Y/n?!” A man calls out, Touya seeing the ex-boyfriend poking his head into the alleyway. Touya’s eyes narrow and he walks towards the man, his hand igniting in blue flame.

Names are so special.

The man screams in agony as the smell of burned flesh fills the air, blue flames eating him alive.

He doesn’t deserve to say your name anymore.

[bunniesanddeer]

Touch- Pt 1

Alastor x GN!Reader

Part Two

Plot: Alastor realizes the reader is starting to get comfortable touching the other residents of the hotel, despite their discomfort with touch before. He suddenly realizes that he is not receiving any of these touches, and it annoys him.

Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, short fic.

Word Count: 1,049

Touch Pt. 1

He had never noticed it before, but now that it had been mentioned, he couldn’t stop noticing it. Every time someone leaned too close, or went to bump you, you leaned away, or shrunk in on yourself. It was a visual reaction that lit up his brain; something close to kinship. You were much like him, in the way you cringed at the slightest, unprovoked touch. Unlike himself, however, you never seemed to initiate it, either. 

Alastor could see why someone like you wouldn’t bother. You didn’t have the power to make people back off if you made it seem like you were okay with casual touches. Better to avoid them altogether!

Alastor was confused, however, when you seemed to suddenly grow more… tactile with the others. It had been just before dinner, Alastor had Niffty setting the table, and everyone was slowly gathering near the dining room. 

“Gosh, how do you even do that, Angel?” You exclaimed. Your face was colored in your bafflement and disgust, even as you let a laugh out. “That’s just, overkill!”

“Just say that you’re jealous, toots. We both know ya’ wouldn’t be able ta’ handle that,” Angel said, leaning his large frame down to wiggle his eyebrows in your face. 

You were laughing again. The sound always caught Alastor’s attention. Even down in Hell, you managed to have a very happy sounding laugh. It felt strange and out of place, but not bad, per se. (Alastor did not like to linger on the ‘why's’ of such thoughts. There was no point. The one time he had, it had spiraled out of control. Not again). 

When Alastor turned to look, he always did, not that he would admit it, your hands were on Angel's face, pushing him back with a grin. 

“Keep yourself away from me, you weirdo! You gotta have like a snake jaw to do that. I want nothing to do with it!” Your hands were still on Angel. Why? You didn’t like touch. Why were you doing it now?

That moment plagued him for a few days, especially as he noticed you touching Angel more. Were you and the effeminate fellow an item? He thought for sure that Angel’s tastes swung the other direction. His theory was smashed to smithereens when he saw you and Husker later on.

You were helping Husker clean smashed glass from the ground, listening to the cat-demon talk. It was often Husker listening to others, so the sight cough Alastor’s attention. He lingered off to the side, and watched, as he was wont to do.

Something the demon said made your eyebrows furrow, and sympathy flit across your face. Alastor watched your lips move, as if you were speaking softly. Then your arm was across Husker’s shoulder, a soft squeeze pulling him against you, for only a moment.

The moment was said and done in mere seconds, but it idled in Alastor’s memory. He could not fathom why things had changed. It only got worse as he realized you were doing it with near everyone in the hotel. Charlie got soft shoulder pats, and light hugs. Vaggie received fist-bumps, (what a strange gesture), and some small hugs. Angel got hip checked and often pulled into impromptu wrestling matches, (he could always hear Angel complain about them, but he never bothered to try and stop you. Maybe the spider didn’t hate it?) Sir Pentious, the cowardly snake, was allowed to pick you up and move you sometimes. Niffty got head pats, and she got picked up by you, sometimes. Husker received the least amount of physical contact, but there were moments where the cat’s tail would brush up against you, or you would squeeze his hand.

Over the course of a few weeks, Alastor couldn’t fathom why everyone else in the hotel was receiving these tender touches from you? He couldn’t tell what the change was. You were still your chipper self, and you helped out as normal. Nothing had changed except the way you interacted with the others. And then it hit him. Others. Your interactions with him hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Your smiles were always soft, and you still laughed at his jokes. You still got spooked when he snuck up on you, and you still shied away when his anger made his form change. He couldn’t spot a single difference! It was after a particularly long day of dealing with Vox, that things hit a tipping point.

Alastor had just gotten back to the hotel, having torn apart goons sent to bother him. Vox was always pulling stupid things like that, but it was more annoying when his technique was suddenly being ridiculed on every screen in Hell! He had managed to send a nasty message to Vox at the end of it all, but it remained a dampener on his day. And then he had spotted you, milling about in the lobby.

“Good afternoon!” He had practically yelled, forcing exuberance into his voice. “How are you this fine afternoon, dear?”

You whipped around, a smile already on your face. “Hi, Alastor! I’m doing okay.” Then a wince washed over your expression. “Saw that stuff on TV, earlier. Hope you got back at him, for it.”

Ah, of course you would mention it. Always worried about how others feel. (He would tell himself that it meant nothing. Because it did. Mean nothing, that is). 

“Of course I did, my dear! The belligerent fool will remember today as a failure, for sure!” He had finally made it over towards you, and had moved to pull you against his side, when you ducked under his arms, stepping a few feet back. 

But you just kept talking to him, like you hadn't moved! The static of his power surging made your words blur in his mind. He couldn’t hear a single word as his mind raced. How dare you? Was he not good enough? Why did each of the others get to touch you now, but he was a problem?

It was the frown on your face that pulled him back down. “Are you okay,” you asked, your face full of concern for him. It didn’t help. 

When Alastor had finally waived away your worries, he had shadow-stepped to his room. He needed to think.

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🐾₊˚ I DON'T PURR : 709 WRDS

INSPIRED BY @cloudbug08 ‘s CG LOGAN HEADCANONS ; DRABBLE |🐾| A/N : No one will ever stop me from making CG!/Dad!Logan fics. At all. Ever.

You’ve been regressed all day. Yesterday was a busy, stressful, overwhelming day, and now you’re coping with the stress. Logan is by your side, caring for you as usual. You lay on the living room floor’s carpet, tummy pressed to the ground, legs kicking up in the air. You breathe contently as you carefully color the page Logan printed out for you.

You could hear him in the bathroom down the corridor near the stairs. He was carefully grooming his hair while humming a tune that sounded a little too familiar. A soft smile crept onto your lips once you recognized it, it was the sound of your favorite cartoon’s intro. “I know that song,” you chirp, gaining a soft chuckle from the man. “You sure do, kiddo. So much that you’ve got me hummin’ it myself,” he replied. He set down the comb before letting out a soft sigh. The sound of his boots slightly clacking against the hardwood floor made you turn your head and giggle out of excitement when you see him. “Kitty hair! Kitty hair,” you exclaim. “Not kitty hair,” he corrected while shaking his head.

“Kitty hair” is what you’d call Logan’s hair any time he had it brushed up like little animal ears. As much as he denied that they were meant to be ears to represent any animal, he never truly cared that you called it kitty hair. He found it pretty cute and grew fond of the term.

“Can I pretty please play with it,” you plead, clasping your hands together. Logan shrugs in response. “I dunno, bubs,” he drags out playfully. “Pretty please? I promise I’ll get that one spot behind your ears that you really like,” you add in an attempt to get him to accept your request. He looks down at you sweetly, hands on his hips, one eyebrow cocked. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he groans dramatically, feigning annoyance. “But you gotta clean up all that arts and crafts stuff you got going on.”

Without hesitation, you nod in agreement. You start to clean up your crayons and coloring pages with haste. Within minutes, you’re done putting everything up, now sat on the couch waiting for Logan to come lay his head on your lap. You stretch your hands out to him grasping the air between you two. “Calm down, kiddo. I’m coming,” he assures you. He walks closer to you, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, slips off his boots, and lays his head in your lap. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable by putting one leg on top of the other and crossing his arms against his chest. “There you go, bubs,” he hums with a deep exhale. You squeal with excitement as you gently begin to play with his hair. You run your fingers through the strands, scratch his scalp, and when you scratch behind his ears, you hear something. Purring. He always purrs when you play with his hair for long enough.

“You purr,” you exclaim with a giggle and a huge grin on your face. Logan sighs in return. He shakes his head in denial “You’ve got it all wrong, kid. I don’t purr. Wolverines don’t purr. You’re making things up,” he protests against your previous claim.

You felt his throat vibrate softly against one of your thighs and listened closely. As you told him, he was purring.

“You purr like a kitty, then,” you chirp back. Another deep sigh. He’s not even annoyed with your claim. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want to admit to his kiddo that he purrs. “I don’t purr. I didn’t purr,” he states firmly. “It’s not right to lie to your papa,” he said with a light-hearted chuckle. “But you did! I promise,” you pout to him. “I’ll prove it,” you say before beginning to scratch at his scalp again.

Sure as hell, he purrs. He grumbles softly to interrupt his purrs in protest. You know you’ve won once you hear a soft sigh fall from his lips as you scratch right behind his ears. More purring. “Guess you’re right, bubs,” he chuckles softly while closing his eyes. “Just keep scratching. It feels nice,” he adds with a smile creeping onto his lips.

TAG LIST : @saronics

[angelbitezzz]

Softies

(short fic under the cut)

It wasn't noticeable at first. Sans wasn't even sure when he'd become aware of it, the distant sound of some kind of thumping. It was rhythmic and steady, unchanging in its tone or speed, barely heard above the breaths of the human he was nearly draped over. He roused slightly, drowsily opening his eyesockets.

"hey." His voice was low and rumbly from sleep. "what's that sound? listenin' to some weird music or something?"

"Eh? Sound? Nah, I'm not listening to anything." Angel responded, glancing away from her phone to look down at his head. "What is it that you're hearing?"

Well, that woke him up a little more. He raised a browbone, incredulity leaking into his voice.

"what, seriously? y'don't hear that thumping sound?"

"No?? Trust me, I'd tell you if I did."

"then what the hell—"

He cut himself off when the motion of lifting his head cut the sound off. He paused. Thought about it for a second, and realized something.

"wait."

"Mhm?"

"can i—can i check something?"

Sans shifted around, shuffling to face her better and grabbing her by the arms to move her around, his mind already three steps ahead and way past caring about personal space.

"Whoa, what're you—"

Angel's words were cut off as he pressed the side of his skull to her chest, heedless of the fact that he essentially just pushed his face into her boobs. Her back abruptly went straight, a shudder working through her system as she nearly dropped the phone in her hands.

"Uhhh," Her mind blanked out, her pulse increasing from the proximity. "Sans?"

"shut up, testing hypothesis."

She would've snapped at him for being a rude shit if it weren't for the fact that he was hit with some kind of understanding about a second later. His eyesockets opened wide, dim pupils sparking a bright white she'd never seen before from him. His default was that single red eye, but lately she'd seen him with dull gray pupils whenever they were alone. This was different, though, it was... almost friendly-looking? It was the best way to describe the sudden softening of his features.

"that's— that's coming from—" He sounded so softly awestruck that fondness struck her heart, his grip tightening on her. "is that you? what—"

Ohhh. She understood now. She pulled away softly so she could look at him properly, though he didn't seem to want to let her get too far, keeping his hold on her arms.

"W-well, uh, that's my heart, dude! Y'know, it keeps me alive!"

At some point a red flush had spread along Sans's cheeks, matching the one currently warming Angel's face. His pupils shuddered in his sockets, splitting into round white ovals that felt oddly sincere? Or maybe she was reading too much into it.

"but it's so—" he struggled to find the words. "small? that's so loud for something so fragile!"

"Welcome to the human experience, I guess...?"

"you just...make that sound?"

"....Yeah?"

Sans stared at her for a moment longer before he seemed to remember himself, lowering his head slightly as his pupils began to dim back to grey. Hesitance peppered his voice as he spoke again.

"uh. can i, um." He paused. "actually, nevermind, i'll just—"

"You wanna lay and listen to it but you don't know how to ask without sounding like a creep?"

Sans deflated a little, shooting her a particularly resigned sort of look. Haha, gottem.

"...yeah."

"Okay. Come on."

Angel reached over and gathering him slightly, shuffling awkwardly to get both her legs on the couch. In a moment, she'd patted his skull right back down against her chest. He went down with more hesitance now, but soon was nothing more than a warm, heavy pile of bones on her person, both hands keeping a tight grip on her waist like she was going anywhere.

Sans dozed, soon relaxing into a real sleep, lulled by the steady sound of her heart. That pulse—the consistent thumping that thrummed through his skull—was just an easy, grounding reminder that she was alive and present with him. Soothing in a way he'd never be able to explain.

She didn't know why he seemed to like the sound of her heartbeat so much. He wouldn't explain it to her.

[opiopal]

levi is always expecting Mc to suddenly turn and start hating him and begin calling him names, he’s always ready for the day they finally realize how gross and weird he is. so as a result he’s always caught off guard by Mc lovingly calling him things like sweet and cute, which effectively turns him into a bright red blushing mess every single time. and heaven forbid mc holds his hand or face while sweetly praising him, because he may just pass away at that exact moment. The rush of emotion sometimes causes parts of his demon form to pop out, making scales appear on his face or making his horns pop out or even making his tail suddenly flop out onto the ground. Every time he panics and assumes the praise will end with Mc suddenly becoming disgusted and realizing how weird he truly is… only for Mc to take a pause before continuing to verbalize their affection.

eventually he gets… kinda used to it, really he just learns to accept mc’s love, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t get flustered anymore though. But he’s much more prepared for it whenever it’s just him and mc together.

[livelovelaughgeto]

tsukishima is a petty bitch. he wasn’t born male or female, he was born a fucking drama queen. and he’s your boyfriend too? yeah, good luck solider.

you took the last slice of his stupid strawberry shortcake. you weren’t thinking, you told yourself. you didn’t even think about it! it was a moment of temptation, a unbearable craving late at night while drafting an unreasonably long essay that you procrastinated. but kei ain’t having any of it. you ate his sweet treat, so here the two of you are, kei on the other side of the small living room space, glaring down at his book with crossed lanky legs and a mess of blonde locks. you just finished the dishes and your approaching him for the millionth time, in an attempt for redemption for your crimes. “kei, baby—

he grimaces at the nickname. he likes the endearment but as of now he knows the tricks up your sleeves. “don’t pull that out now.” he grumbles back, clicking his tongue in annoyance and flipping the next page of his book with his long fingers. you groan in annoyance, getting on your knees, next to the couch and intertwining your hands together in mock prayer. ��oh come on kei! please? i did not have evil intentions! i was fucking hungry and suffering!” you cried out with furrowed brows, as if you were pleading your innocence in goddamn court. he looks down with disdain, rolling his eyes and placing a hand on your forehead in an attempt to shove you fully away, almost making you fall on your ass in the process. but you simply laugh and push his rather large veiny hand away. you let out an exaggerated sigh, scooting across the carpet and generously placing your head on his lap. you smile up at him, soft and tender, nuzzling close and reaching for his hand before he pulls away, flipping you off but with a quick and reluctant sigh grabs it in his hand and mingles his hand into yours.

“sooo do you forgive me?” you drawl out, low and conspiratorially, looking up at with big eyes and a hopeful smile.

“no.” he remarks, adjusting his glasses sliding down his nose. but he’s what you call a, “liar, liar, pants on fire.” he lets go of your shared intertwined hands, his hands finding their way to your hair. gently grazing through and playing with the fine strands tenderly.

your smirk, all knowing and satisfied with your success of a plan. but it doesn’t last long, because he interrupts that celebration with a flick to your forehead.

“so when are we going to the cafe, huh? your paying.” he mutters, putting down his book and arching a brow.

he always pays, liar.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Chasing The Calm

Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> A moment of peace for you and Tyler in between the chases.

Disclaimer: Mostly a fluffy short, tornado wrangler family, dog adoption, relaxing on the porch vibes, etc.

You’d both had a long day. 

You’d been storm chasing with Tyler for almost five years. It had started out as a favour – you had a break off work for a few weeks in the summer and he needed a data reader. So, after some persuading, you agreed. 

And you’d been chasing ever since. 

The day’s chasing started at five in the morning. Lily had set an alert on her phone which meant any tornados worth chasing for footage would be sent directly to her phone. Even if that meant getting your asses into gear to drive into the middle of an unused field. 

Finally, around three p.m, Tyler had called a break for everyone. Boone was starting to lose energy and the others were ready for food and an early night. And since strolling back into your shared home, you and Tyler had been laying on the porch swing watching the sun slowly set across the acres of land. 

Not too long after Tyler had helped you up before slotting you in between his legs, the Wrangler rescue came and slotted herself in the small gap left by yours and Tyler’s legs as you lay on him. 

Every now and again you could hear Dexter making tea in the kitchen. The kettle whistled for a few seconds before he pulled it from the stove. 

Tyler’s heartbeat was steady in his chest as he lightly drew his fingers up and down your back, his eyes looking across the fields at the golden hue that had been cast across the wheat. 

Compared to the humidity and winds you’d all been experiencing since five a.m, the soft breeze that blew through the porch and across both of you was a kind welcome. 

From the other end of the porch swing, Hay-Bail shifted her position before sighing as she lay back down. 

You’d found Hay-Bail almost two years ago. 

A tornado had ripped through a small town, but not before hitting one of the local farms. Its wind had sent plenty of hay bails flying through the air, one landing by Tyler’s truck. You’d all spent close to two hours helping out where you could before leaving and getting cleaned up yourselves. 

Only, as you stood by Tyler, you heard a small whimper. At first, you thought your ears had tricked you. But once Dexter and Lily had pulled away in their cars, along with Dani, Javi, Kate and Boone, you heard it again. 

“Ty, wait.”

Tyler watched you as you slowly crouched towards the hay bail and for a moment he wondered what you were doing. Then he heard it himself. 

Hurrying forward, you’d looked all around it. From under Tyler’s truck to the stay piles on the ground. But nothing. Till you looked inside the bail of hay. 

With straw scratched away, a puppy no older than two months emerged. Covered in hay, the poor thing wouldn’t stop shaking. 

“Hey, hey, come here. Oh, Ty, she’s shaking like a leaf.”

Holding her carefully in your arms, Tyler checked her over. She wasn’t bleeding, but she was shaking. “She must have hid when the tornado came.”

“Tyler, her heart’s racing.”

Holding her carefully against your chest, you petted and soothed her head. 

“There should be an emergency vet a town over. Come on.”

And so you were off. Three and a half hours later, the puppy had been checked out at the vet. You’d helped calm her, but she was calmest against Tyler. Namely, whilst she was trying to climb into one of his shirt pockets. 

The vet had also informed both you and Tyler that the farmer she belonged to said to keep her. He’d been trying to sell his puppies for months and she was the last one. He didn’t even know she’d gotten out of her pen until the vet called. 

If you and Tyler didn’t take her home, she would have been abandoned. And neither of you could have that. Plus, she seemed rather taken with Tyler. 

From that day on, Hay-Bail became a certified member of the Tornado Wrangler family. You’d been meaning to give her an actual name but until you found one, she was just known as Hay-Bail and it stuck. But it suited her. To this day, if she was ever missing, she was in the shed playing in the hay. 

As your eyes took in the landscape around you, you smiled in contentment. 

You loved your job, you loved that you got to go out almost every day and chase. That almost every day, you lived in the moment and got to capture memories to last a lifetime. 

But you also loved moments like this. 

Laying with Tyler, and Hay-Bail, just listening to the sounds of the house and the surrounding fields. All the while, the sun slowly started to make its descent so the moon could rise up into its place. 

It was in moments like this you were glad you accepted Tyler’s offer to join him for the summer all those years ago. 

You and Tyler had met in college on the same course. You’d never really been close, but you’d done plenty of late night study sessions in the library together, testing each other on the facts in order to be prepared for the next pop quiz your professor decided to throw at you. 

After college, you’d both taken widely different routes, though you still kept in touch. Every now and again, Tyler would send you a storm article or if he was in town, you’d meet up for coffee. 

And whilst Tyler had found fame and success in Tornado chasing, you’d become a community college science teacher. You had enjoyed it for a while, but being in the field, chasing tornadoes, collecting the data, teaching others about the weather as well as the science behind it…that was your calling. 

But, just as you got settled into your new career and life with the Tornado Wranglers, another change was made eighteen months later when you and Tyler started dating. 

It took you both a while to figure it out considering you’d been friends for a long time and you’d be working together for the foreseeable future. But after a long talk from Dexter and a quick anecdote from Boone, Tyler and yourself had come to a conclusion. 

Whatever was going to happen, would happen. But it would be better together than apart. 

From his chest, you looked up at him and he immediately looked back, the same soft smile on his face. 

Leaning up, you kissed him and he kissed back lightly as his hand came to the back of your head. 

Neither of you had to say anything, because it was all said in the kiss. 

You lay back down as Tyler’s fingers started to brush through your hair. However, just as you both started to doze off, an alert came through on your phone. 

Reaching into your back pocket, Tyler pulled your phone out for you and handed it to you. 

Gently taking it from him, you pressed the power button and you read the alert. 

“There’s a storm North-East of us; numbers are looking good. Looks like it’s gonna be heading…” You flipped your phone. “West. Not much there other than wind turbines and overgrown pasture.”

Tyler smiled as he watched you and when you looked back at him, neither of you had to say anything. You’d be chasing it. 

“Hey! Guys! I think I’ve got one!” Lily yelled from somewhere inside the house. 

Kneeling up, Tyler sat up underneath you before you both jumped onto your feet and slipped your shoes back on. Hay-Bail was already up and following Tyler into the barn to collect Kate and Javi. 

Within minutes, everyone was in a vehicle and were driving North-East and into another tornado. 

[egrettacaerulea]

The trope where everyone in the batfam is extra protective to whoever Tim's suitor is--he's the CEO of WE, leader of Young Justice, so he got a lot of suitors whether they are masked or civilians.

Tim is a little pissed, because, "Why not Cass? I can defend myself just fine!" but none of the fam is hearing any of Tim's complaints. Because Tim might be the best detective, but he can be very oblivious to any flirtings. As in he would let it go for so long and eventually lead someone on even though he didn't realize he was doing it. So the batfam is actually just doing the public some favor and not having their heart broken by Gotham's most eligible bachelor.

Though Tim is also a little flattered actually that his family cares so much about him.

Not Jason though. Jason is fighting all possible suitors because he wants Tim for himself and he has been dropping hints for ages but Tim doesn't get it.

The whole family knows.

Dick especially, always gets amused whenever Jason is Trying™ and it goes over Tim's head.

"You're the only suitor we're not actively fighting, but we aren't helping you either. Good luck, Little Wing."

And Jason will definitely keep trying.

(Don't worry. Tim will get it though. Eventually.)

[defectivehero]

The hero is taking their nephew trick-or-treating tonight for the first time, and they’re a bit nervous. Their nephew, Danny, is a great kid and well-behaved. The hero just isn’t used to acting as a guardian.

But as the afternoon begins, they start to relax as they see how much fun Danny is having. They watch as he runs up to a rather nice house, returning moments later with candy.

Then the hero sees the homeowner motion for them to come closer. They see that familiar form—almost seeming misplaced in civilian clothing—and their heart drops. Out of all the people they could’ve encountered… they just had to find the villain.

Gritting their teeth, the hero tells their nephew to run to the next house and stay within eyesight… before they walk up to the doorstep of the villain’s house.

“I didn’t realize you had a child,” the villain hums casually.

“Don’t,” the hero warns them.

“What?” The villain asks, having the audacity to look offended. “It was just an observation.” They blink innocently.

“He’s my nephew.” The hero spits out. They must be doing a bad job of hiding their distrust, because the villain sighs theatrically.

“Trust me, if I were up to something, you’d know,” the villain huffs. “Besides, I have… other priorities tonight.” They glance to the side and, in a few seconds, a child heads towards the doorway. The hero blinks. This must be the villain’s child.

“Um. Hi.” The hero says awkwardly, still reeling from the realization that the villain has a child.

The kid has the same eyes and nose as their parent. The resemblance is startling. “That’s a bad hero costume,” they remark helpfully. “You’re missing the amulet.”

They are missing their amulet, ironically. The hero self-consciously puts a hand to their collarbone before sighing. The villain looks endlessly amused, and also a bit wary of them—as if worried about their behavior in front of their child. The hero resists an eye roll at that, before glancing down the sidewalk. Their nephew is running back to them, bouncing on his heels impatiently as he evidently wonders what’s taking them so long.

“Hi,” the hero greets their nephew, placing a hand on his shoulder. He settles down a little, but still looks eager to go to the next house.

“Hi.” He answers. Then he looks curiously at the other child and smiles at them. The villain’s child smiles ever so slightly in response. The hero studies them for a moment, taking in those familiar hazel eyes on someone far more innocent and pure hearted than their enemy. Then they notice the kid’s costume and the slight frown on their lips and wonder if the villain has taken them trick or treating yet. It doesn’t look like it, actually—and that would explain the envious glances the kid is shooting at Danny.

“You know,” the hero says, crossing their arms over their chest. They’re already making the offer before they can think about it. “I was going to take Danny here trick-or-treating anyways… I’d be happy to take your child too.”

The villain studies them for a long, long time. The tense silence is only broken by a movement from the child at their side, who hesitates for a moment before crossing the threshold of the doorway and standing next to Danny.

“Do you want to go with them, Kel?” The villain asks; their child nods brightly in response. The villain lets out a long-suffering sigh, turning their attention to the hero. “Very well. I’m trusting you to ensure their safety.”

“Of course,” the hero responds sincerely. “I’ll have them back by curfew at 7.”

“6:30,” the villain argues.

The hero squints at them skeptically, before glancing down at their watch. It’s only 4:45 p.m. That’s plenty of time. “Fine.” They agree.

“If anything happens to them-” The villain starts.

“I know,” the hero interjects, before they can utter any threats in front of the children.

“I’m trusting you,” their enemy repeats gravely. “Don’t make me regret it.”

The hero nods, understanding just how much faith the villain is placing in them. Then an idea comes to mind. “Get your phone out.” The villain stares at them for a moment, before doing as requested. From there, the hero gives them their phone number. Then they reach into their own pocket and turn their phone’s ringer on. “Okay?” They ask, looking at them pointedly. The message is clear: Call me if you need anything.

The villain is staring at them with a complex expression on their face. “Okay.” They respond. Then they look to their child. “Have fun, alright?”

With that, the hero turns their back on the villain and watches as their nephew and their enemy’s child excitedly race ahead to the next house. They can feel the villain’s gaze watching them, even as they turn the corner and head out of sight.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

thanks for reading! happy halloween!!! 🦇🧛🏻

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[shadybiotics]

A c o l d n i g h t s h a r e d

�� pairing: venture x reader

× words: 1109

× content: gender neutral reader, fluff, comfort, slight crushing

× summary: After a long day of work at the dig site, the two of you help eachother wind down and get ready for sleep.

[ A/N ] : Hello hi ive become severely obsessed with this Venture creature and im not seeing enough fanfics with them so of course i had to pick the pen up myself and get to work.

After a long day of work at the dig site, the two of you help eachother wind down and get ready for sleep. Sitting close by the fire, you help them clean up.

Holding the tissues you brought with you in hand, you began gently wiping Ventures face from all the dirt and dust as they sat slightly hunched over to help you reach better.

"Aw come on, do we really have to?" They playfully whined with a weak laugh, not truly being against this but they would rather be asleep right now.

"Oh shush" you replied with a soft smile, playfully wiping their lips to keep Venture quiet, their complaints now muffled.

You knew Venture would crawl into their tent all dusty and not see a problem with it, focused only on the excitement of getting back to work first thing in the very early morning. But knowing you- they knew you wouldn't let that happen.

After wiping their mouth clean you pause, staring at their lips, thoughts trailing somewhere else, somewhere pleasant, while your other hand cupped their face and thumb began to stroke their features...

Venture noticed your pause after a moment and blushed averting their eyes. Not knowing what to do they cleared their throat.

"Hm? Oh!" You caught yourself.

You yourself were now blushing while you continued your work. Now wiping their eyebrows, cheeks and then nose. A chill visibly ran through your body as the cold night wind picked up ever so slightly. You gently tilt Ventures face to get their chin and neck as well, trying not too be overly obvious while staring at their tattoo. The touch of your fingers, soft and slow, was so soothing to them, so sweet and comforting, relaxing even. They'd fall asleep in your hands any moment you worried.

They draw out a big, exaggerated yawn.

"Mmmokay!" they exclaim as they quickly pat their thighs before getting up in what seemed to be a hurry.

"Since we are done here-" Venture turned while dragging you by the hand as if you two agreed prior to whatever they were planning now.

"Huh??!"

Venture turned to you with an innocent look and their lips pouted slightly before they defend themselves "I mean, the night is cold, i thought we could- uh -share my tent and keep eachother warm?"

You just stare at eachother for a moment before you speak.

"I uh, sure, it is rather... cold" You're not sure how else to answer, too focused on the idea of being so close as to share a tent with them.

"Cool!"

Hands still intertwined, theirs much rougher to the touch than yours, you walked over to Ventures humble tent which was only a couple steps away from the fire. You wished it wasn't so close...

...

Venture let you crawl in first and the tent seemed pretty spacious at first, with soft bedding spread beneath and a small oil lamp next to the pillow, until Venture crawled in after you. Venture is broad and tall after all, you wondered how they even fit here without you.

You were propped up on your elbow as you watched Venture fluff up the pillow for the both of you, finally resting their head on one end. Their eyes looked deeply into yours, an invitation.

You haven't been this close with them ever before, your stomach quickly began doing somersaults at this realization, heart pumping faster. There was no backing out now, you yearned for their warmth.

Having to scoot a little closer, you lay down next to them, fitting your head on the other end of the pillow. Your faces were close, so close you could see Ventures eyes gleam with the soft glow cast from the oil lamp, the light catching the shine of their eyebrow piercing as well. In turn, they observed your face and its shine.

There was a silence between you two, a comfortable yet tense one. The sound of your calm breathes filled the tent, accompanied by the crackling of the campfire outside. Even further out crickets and other bugs could be heard singing their lullabies quietly, as if they knew not to disturb this moment.

You decide then to be bold and run your fingers, hesitantly at first as if afraid to be burnt, through Ventures wild locks. They were so soft yet thick and- dirt... grains of dirt and sand fell from Ventures strands, only a few but noticeable to you.

You clicked your tongue. "Guess i missed a spot" you scold yourself.

"Its okay" They take your hand in theirs and rest them between the two of you, giving yours a squeeze " you can get it next time" Venture said with a lazy smile, letting their chipped tooth peak through their lips. Their thumb running circles onto your palm.

The lack of distance between you became comfortable soon, so Venture decided to to shrink it even further when they laid their hand on your lower back grasping it, your body instinctively stiffened at their unannounced touch and they yanked you closer. Bodies pressing against one another, noses almost touching. Your heart picked up the pace again, thumping in response before Ventures hand started trailing further down all the while you still maintained eye contact.

With confidence Venture ran their large hand down your back, then hip, then thigh, then leg, hooking a hand under your knee on their way up and lifting your leg letting it snake around theirs.

Seeing you were still red and stunned by their advances, Venture decided to help you out. Taking your hand in theirs they guided it to their waist, firmly leaving it there. You got the hint and held them as their hand returned to your thigh.

Breaking that intense eye contact you had to close your eyes for a moment, the situation becoming a lot for you all at once, all too quickly. But then, all of the sudden a surge of energy rushed through your body and you kissed Venture. You kissed them, placing a sweet but small kiss on their lips and let it linger for only a short second before pulling away, now watching their reaction.

Ventures face was beaming like a thousand suns, they didn't think you had it in you and as a reward they returned the favour. With confidence they kissed you passionately yet gently, only for a moment, before pulling away and then kissing you once more. You locked eyes again while exchanging sweet smiles, yours shy, their smug.

Venture gave you one last pull connecting their forehead with yours as they closed their eyes. Soon, you did the same.

[beastsovrevelation]

Captured Angel

Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader

Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia

“Good, you’re awake.”

A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.   

“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.

Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.

“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”

You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.  

“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He glanced down at your heaving chest.

“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”

You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.

“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.   

“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”

You snarled, attempting to pull away.

“Get your putrid hands off me!”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”

“Vile creature...” you spat.

He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles   had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.

Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.

You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.

He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.

He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.

It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”

He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.

“Speak up, angel” he demanded.

Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.

“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”

Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.

“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.

He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.

Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.

Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.

“Kiss me” you demanded.

He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.

“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.

“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.

“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”

He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.

“Michael!”

“Good girl” he praised with a grin.

Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.

“Michael...” you moaned.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation  you had ever experienced.

You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.

“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”

A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.

“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.

[phoebefrench]

Slowly, like honey

Summary: She often heard that photography would lead her to nowhere. In retrospect, it became clear that many simply lacked the ability to recognize the beauty that surrounded them. Fortunately, she had two people in her life who truly understood and celebrated every facet of her being.

Featuring: Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Google translate used for the french and dutch

All Y/N wanted to do when she got back to Max's apartment was curl up in bed and take the world's longest nap. It all started when she woke this morning an hour past her alarm, her boyfriends already gone, and she spilt coffee all over herself while rushing into her digital photography class. Walking through the front door, she was greeted by the sound of cooking in the kitchen and light talking. She slowly walked to the kitchen, stopping to pet Sassy and continuing on. Before making it all the way, arms wrapped behind her slightly scaring her as she was suddenly turned around. Closing her eyes and catching the scent of her boyfriend, she relaxed into his arms. "Hi Char," she mumbled. Slowly letting go, he responded "Mon chéri, how was your day?" She sighed, the day hitting her like a truck as tears starting welling in her eyes faster than she could stop them. His eyes tracked her face quickly, trying to figure out what was wrong, "Chéri, what happened, what's wrong?" Max, hearing the slight commotion and the suddenly worsening tears turned sobs, rushed out. He quickly walked to the two of them, taking her into his arms, "Schatje, come here. What's wrong, hmm?" She buries her head into his chest and just lets it all out, "It's so silly, everything that could have went wrong today went wrong. I slept passed my alarm after you both left, I spilt my coffee all down the front of my shirt, and on the way home I realized I left my portfolio at my desk in class." Max and Charles shared a look over her head and started silently figuring out how they could fix this. Charles starts by moving them to the kitchen, “how about we eat dinner and move onto the living room for a movie, hmm?“ Nodding she sits down, allowing them to dish the pasta Max had made, smiling slightly when they sat down as a bowl was put in front of her. They ate dinner silently, with both boys giving her some time to process her day without overwhelming her. Moving onto the couch, Max to her right and Charles directly to the left, both holding her tightly to them does she finally start to calm down. “How was your guys day?” She asked looking up at them both. Charles looked down and grinned, “Just another media day, mon cheri.” Max hummed in agreement, adding “It was an endless amount of people asking of us the same things,” he continued “did you get to work more on your project?” “Yes, I’ve finally figured out a location for the shoot and I’m excited to actually start shooting next week!” She responded, perking up at the fact that she was another day closer to presenting this project and have everyone see what she has been working hard on. Max and Charles both smiled, satisfied with the fact that their girlfriend seemed to being cheering up, and that they would soon see the gallery that their talented Y/N has been working hard on. “I can’t wait to see them, you have to tell us the date so we can make sure to be there,” Max stated. Charles nodded his head in agreement, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She nodded, her eyes slowly closing as the movie in the background got quieter, “You both are the best thing to ever happen to me” while snuggling down deeper into them. Max and Charles looked at each other, smiles shared as they responded, “Us too, love.” Just this moment was enough to completely erase all the small things that had piled up throughout her day as she thought about how lucky she was to have these amazing boys both with her as she slowly fell asleep.

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This is my first time ever publishing fanfiction! Please let me know any suggestions, but please be nice!

I will take requests!

Should I make this a series?