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revengeoftheantichrist · 2 years

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Gods and Monsters

Warnings: Arranged Marriage

AO3

Chapter 1

“Have you ever met him before Witcher?” “Who?” “Loki, of Asgard.” “No, I haven’t met him.” “Neither have I, and here I am, on my way to wed him,” you sighed, turning to look back out of the window. This wasn’t the first time in his life Geralt was responsible for the wellbeing of a princess, he did not enjoy the frequency of it. Your father had insisted Geralt stay in the carriage with you, meaning he was separated from roach; he didn’t like that. His current mission was to escort Princess Y/N to meet her future husband. If all went well, you were to wed and, Geralt would receive a healthy amount of coin for getting you to your destination in one piece. The marriage would unite two warring kingdoms. That put a target on your head. Some people just did not want peace; therefore, they would do anything to prevent the marriage from taking place. Your father had hired the White Wolf, hoping that his presence alone would scare anyone from trying anything. The convoy was small, trying not to draw any real attention. Most of your belongings would be delivered at the time of your wedding when the guests from your kingdom arrived. You wondered if your husband would measure up to the Witcher that was responsible for your safety. You had spent most of the journey staring at the man. He wasn’t a man of many words but Gods was he attractive. He had ignored your stares the majority of the trip.

“Were approaching the gates of the Kingdom,” he finally spoke. You nodded in response just as the convoy began to slow down. Geralt furrowed his brows before getting out the carriage, telling you to stay put on his way out. You heard raised voices but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, whatever it was, it sounded aggressive. You were still trying to listen in before the door was violently yanked open. You raised your bro at the Asgardian knight that dared to do such a thing.

“I need you to present your papers miss,” he leered. “Very well then,” you moved to get out, yet the man was still standing in your way. “Will you get out of my way? Or do I have to kick you away?” The man glared at you; you raised your leg to make good on your promise before he moved aside. You took your time walking up to where the Witcher was standing, glaring daggers at the men squirming around him. “Is everything alright here gentlemen?” “We need your papers miss,” one of the gate guards explained. You didn’t like his tone. You mother had a suspicion that something like this would happen. You carried a copy of the papers just in case. “I should be referred to as ‘Your Highness’, not miss,” you said, handing the documents over. The guards face paled, visibly gulping as he took in the paperwork. “May my convoy pass? Or would you rather have this discussion with my Witcher?”

You didn’t know why you loved to call him your Witcher, but you liked the way it made Geralt squirm. “I apologise for the mix up your Highness, please, you are free to pass, and the rest of the checkpoints will be informed too,” the guard stammered out. You gave him a sarcastic smile before making your way back to the carriage. You did not appreciate the rudeness of the guards and you would inform the relevant person when you finally reached the palace. Geralt shoved the earlier guard out the way, opening the door to the carriage and leading you in. You let out a shaky breath as you settled in and started to move again. Geralt could smell your fear since you approached the border. You were a foreigner in an unfamiliar land, you knew hostility was to be expected, but still, you were scared. The only person you could trust was the white-haired man in front of you, even then, he was temporary. This was just a job for him. Once you were married, you’d be left to navigate a new marriage and the Asgardian culture and court. A place where they were just waiting for you to fuck up. Geralt reached his hand forward, gently gripping your jaw and applying a light pressure, “Unclench your jaw Princess, it’ll start hurting if you keep this up”. You hummed in acknowledgement; his hand lingered a little longer than it should have. “When is our next stop? I’m sure were all tired and hungry,” you asked. The journey to the capital would be another 2 days. “Soon.” You pulled your shawl closer to you, closing your eyes and listening to the sounds of the road.

////

You awoke with a sudden jolt as the convoy stopped. “Where are we?” you yawned. “Our lodgings for the night,” Geralt responded. He helped you out the carriage and you took in your surroundings. “It’s a little… Simple,” you pointed out. “Were keeping a low profile.” ‘Fair enough’ you thought, waiting for Geralt to lead the way in.

////

As you walked in, you were assaulted with the smell of ale and sweat. You had never been to such an establishment. You think Asgard may be mocking you with this. First the guards and now this. If they didn’t want the wedding, why on earth put you through the humiliation. You decided there that you would make Loki’s first few months with you hell. You stood in the corner as Geralt spoke to the innkeeper. You saw his jaw clench as he spoke to the man. You were sure there was yet another blunder you would have to deal with. You waited for him to come back to you, trying to ignore the leering of the drunk men around you. They should have their eyes gouged out for looking at any woman like that. Geralt finally made his way back to you. “There isn’t enough room for all of us.” You clenched your fists in anger, this was getting ridiculous now. “You may stay with my Witcher, I need you for guard anyway.” It was the only logical solution you could think of. “Low profile remember?” you interrupted Geralt before he could speak. “Very well, I’ll arrange for a bath and have your meal sent to the room.” “Thank you Geralt. Get yourself something too. Relax, it’s been a long journey for you too,” you smiled at him.

////

You reluctantly finished your meal. It was better than nothing. Did all of Asgard eat such bland food? A knock came on the door. “Who is it?” you called out. “Water for your bath miss.” You got up and opened the door. “Please let me get that for you,” you reached towards the steaming pail. “Nonsense miss, it’s what I’m paid to do,” the woman laughed. “What’s your name?” you asked. “Alva.” “That’s a beautiful name,” you smiled at her. She blushed, skittering out the room to get the next pail. She was pretty you thought.

She returned with the next bucket. “If you don’t mind me askin’ miss. What business does someone as pretty as you have with a Witcher.” Now it was your turn to blush. “He is a family friend ensuring I reach my destination in one piece.” It wasn’t a complete lie. “I have heard the Witchers can be fiercely loyal in the right circumstances.” “I hope so,” you laughed. “The water is warm miss, I’ve put some lavender in here to help you sleep,“ she said as she made her way out. “Thank you Alva, I really do appreciate it.” You shut the door when she left. You disrobed and finally sank into the warm water, letting out a sigh as you did so. You weren’t used to infrequent baths, hoping the Asgardian place had warm and comfortable baths like you were used to back home.

You didn’t realise you had drifted off until the creak of the door startled you. It was Geralt. You sank deeper into the water. “Could you pass me my towel?” Geralt looked at you like a startled cat. He wasn’t expecting you to still be in the bath. He said nothing as he handed you the towel. “Turn around,” you whispered shyly. Although you may have fantasised about the situation before. It was very different now that you were here. Geralt turned his back to you, waiting for you to get dressed before he moved again. “The water is still warm, I’m sure Alva can bring some more up for you.” “I’m fine, I’ll live.” “I insist actually, we’ve been on the road for a few days.” He ‘Hmphed’ in response. You smiled at him as you shuffled into the bed, bringing the covers up to your eyes.

Geralt began to disrobe. You quickly turned in order to give him some privacy, but not before you got a glimpse at his broad back. “I don’t think it’s very Princess-like to stare your Highness.” “Sorry!” you squeaked before burying your face into your pillow. Your face hot. Geralt just laughed.

////

The morning sun woke you. The bed was very warm, and you snuggled into whatever the source was. Source? You slowly turned to see Geralt grinning at you. “Are you aware that you have a death grip in your sleep?” “This never happened,” you grumbled out, trying to get out of the bed as fast as possible, almost falling over. “Of course, Princess, your wish is my command.”

Geralt got ready before you, making his way down to sort the rest of the journey out. ////

You heard a ruckus as you made your way down to the main room of the Inn. Geralts voice boomed over the rest. “Who gave them permission to leave?” You made your way over, placing your hand on his arm. “Is everything okay?” “The convoy seems to have left without us.” “What? How? Why?” “Look Witcher,” started the Innkeeper, “I don’t involve myself in the business of my guests. It’s not my problem you’ve been left behind. I’m sure you can get to Valaskjalf on that horse of yours. Now get out of here, you’ve overstayed your welcome!” The man dismissed you. “Let’s go Geralt, the quicker we get there the better,” you pulled the Witcher away from mauling the innkeeper. Geralt prepared Roach for the journey as you tried to figure out what on earth was going on. ////

“This must be some sort of plot. Either I disappear and my kingdom can justify a war with Asgard. Or I don’t arrive to my destination and Asgard can say I’m a runaway princess and justify a war that way.” You had been proposing theories to Geralt for the past few hours. Geralt didn’t say much, but you told yourself he was being a good listener. The sun was beginning to set. You would have to stop soon. Your only option was camping in the wilderness as there seemed to be no civilisation on this route. Geralt had chosen the road less travelled for safety.

“You must have some sort of th-“ “Shhh” “Don’t shush me.” “Be quiet!” You heard a rumble in the distance. Roach began to make a fuss.

Then came the loud roar that got closer and closer. “What is that Geralt?” “Bilgesnipe. Its native to Asgard.” Geralt pulled you off Roach. Calming the horse down. “Get behind me princess!” You saw the creature barrelling through the treeline. You truly felt fear that evening. It was huge. Its horns would tear through you. Its jaw would crush your bones with ease.

Geralt unsheathed his sword, preparing his attack. It all went so fast as you cowered behind him and screwed your eyes shut. You felt something splatter on your face. There was so much noise. Until there wasn’t. The forest around you had fallen silent. You slowly opened your eyes again. Geralt was covered in the innards of the creature. Barely panting as he twisted the blade into it for extra measure. He sheathed his sword and turned to you, gently wiping the blood from your face. “Are you alright?” You stared at him wide-eyed, too shocked to say anything. “Princess?” “Y-Yes I’m fine, I’ll be fine, I promise.” You felt queasy. Monster hunting just wasn’t your thing. “Let’s get go…” You held your hand up to stop Geralt. Gagging, before turning away from him to empty the contents of your stomach. He huffed and rolled his eyes and went to grab the water bladder, you reminded him of Jaskier at this moment in time. You snatched the water from him, rinsing your mouth out. You stood straight again. “I think we should start moving,” you didn’t look Geralt in the eye. “I think we should.” You elected to walk for now, hopefully able to walk the sickness off.

As night settled, the pair set up camp off the road. You never thought you’d ever have to stick it out in the wilderness, especially with a Witcher. You scooted closer to Geralt for warmth, making sure to not make eye contact with him. Your mother would give you an earful if she ever found out. You drifted off to the sounds of the forest, the slow heartbeat of the Witcher and the thought of all the wrath you would unleash on all that had wronged you … especially your future husband. Diplomacy be damned.

#My writing #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #GM1

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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Earth, Serve for the Stars (Valiant Thor x female reader)

(I made this gif on my own so don’t come for me!)

Author’s note: Heavily inspired by “Venus” by Lady Gaga, hence the name! I also thought it’d be fun to throw in a guest appearance since I’ve yet to write anything for this character.

Warnings: Discussion of conspiracy theories/government cover-ups, human experimentation, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, extraterrestrial smut, mention of oral sex (female receiving), mention of anal fingering, discussion/jokes about probing, A LOT of astronomy puns, breeding kink, impregnation, mind control, dubcon if I’m being fair.

Lastly, this is dedicated to @9layerdevilfoodcake, the only other Gaga simp I know here and the one person I spoke to at length about this idea! I hope this does our idea justice! And maybe I’ll conjure up a Valiant Thor fic for each Artpop song!

Tag list: @jimmason @9layerdevilfoodcake @guilty-fiend @angelicmichael @stanvogel @wroteclassicaly @littledemondani @lovelylangdonx

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The atomic clock approached the quietest, darkest hour of night within the brick fortitude of the nation’s capital, the hour in which all who resided within the President’s home would be summoned well into their dreamscapes, accompanied by the pleasant thoughts and memories that played in technicolor within their sleeping, subconscious minds, blinded to any of the hushed, secretive movements that conspired just below the floors of their luxurious bedrooms. All corners and corridors were left guardless and vulnerable to those who successfully lurked within the many shadows of the historic home, when the White House’s security detail would secretly slink away from their nightly posts to stave off their abundant, colossal boredom, leaving the government’s most classified, hidden projects and secrets open for prying, curious eyes to see.

Especially you, having a unique knowledge of all the nooks and crannies that remained unchecked and unseen by the most prestigious, experienced guards, slipping in and out of the shadows with relative ease, the President’s inquisitive daughter.

Keep reading

#JESUS DANA UR KILLING ME #I love this sm honestly its so nice to read ur writing again!!#I love this sm honestly it was the perfect mix of mystery and porn lol #and the stan link #chefs kith #friends writing

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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Seven Devils

AO3 <<<Previous

Day 7

Keep reading

#slef rb #hi i posted this

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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Seven Devils

AO3 <<<Previous

Day 7

You woke up to the smell of burning. The cold floor you had fallen asleep on was beginning to warm, indicating how hot the inferno had gotten. You quickly got up, grabbing the rosary and the dagger on your way to the door. Gathering all your strength you gave the door a hard kick, the rotting wood crumbling away and giving you the space to get out of your little prison. Immediately your hit with the heat, it was as if you had opened an oven while at its hottest, making your eyes water a little. You bolted down the corridor towards the dorms, you hoped everyone had gotten out by now. Bursting into the room you tried to wake all your classmates in the room. No one would wake. It was as if everyone was under a spell. This wasn’t a good sign.

The smell of burning got stronger, the heat rising. The heartbeat you had heard all week got lounder, its thrumming seeming to echo into the deepest parts of your mind, all consuming.

You knew what you had to do, to finish this once and for all. You ran out of the room, towards the courtyard. An axe was leaned against one of the arches, you took it. The heartbeat got louder the closer you got to the tree. You could feel it in the bottoms of your feet as you stood before it. You took a deep breath, before swinging the axe into the tree.

It bled.

The sap was a dark crimson but that didn’t stop you. Crows had surrounded you, pecking and diving at you but it was as if you were possessed, swinging the axe until the tree fell backwards. You dropped the axe and fell to your knees, breathing wildly in exhaustion. You could feel the sap on your bare knees, the stickiness making your skin crawl. You finally turned your attention to the stump. You could see the box in the cavity, snakes forming a defence around it. They hissed as your hands reached towards it. You paid them no mind, using your own hands to uncoil them from the box.

You finally held the box in your hands. Your hands vibrating with the pulse inside. You pulled your rosary from around your neck, placing it in the cavity. It clicked in place, moving the mechanics of the lock system. The lid creaked open slowly.

You gagged at the contents, but they were exactly what you expected. You pulled it out and discarded the box. You held Michael Langdon’s beating heart in the palms of your hands. You sat and stared at it, mesmerised by the organ pulsing without a body.

The sound of falling, burning timber finally snapped you out of your daze. You had to act fast. The only way to end this would be to burn his heart at the altar. You got up and ran towards the burning half of the building. It hadn’t reached the dorms yet, but you had to act fast.

The heat inside the building was unbearable, you were surrounded by flames from all sides. The smoke tickling your throat and making you cough.

The door to the chapel had been burned away. The flames slowly crawling towards the alter but you still had time. The holy candles were still burning. Your vision started to blur as you walked closer to the marble. Your movements became staggered. With shaky hands, you finally placed the heart into the paten. A few pieces of communion bread still in the vessel. You emptied out the little bottle of anointing oil into it, just for good measure. You staggered towards the candle, moving was becoming harder. The wax dripped onto your hand as you moved it towards the paten. With the last of your strength, you brought the flame down to catch the oil.

The paten burst into a violent flame, throwing you onto your back. A black smoke filled the room, clouding your vision and filling your lungs. You moved to your hands and knees, coughing violently. You would have screamed if you could breathe. The floor was crawling with snakes. They slithered over your hands and ankles. You finally raised your head to look at the source, the alter. The smoke had begun to clear up. The silhouette of a tall man could be seen. He began to slowly step forward.

You saw his blue eyes first. So familiar, yet the rage inside them made your skin crawl. You looked down in fear, watching his shoes move closer. The fine leather was right in front of you now. The smell of cinnamon assaulting your senses. He squatted down to you. His ringed hand painfully gripped your chin, moving your head to finally make eye contact with him.

It was the face that had haunted your dreams for the past six nights, grinning at you.

“My my Y/N why is it when we meet, you are always on your knees?” You whimpered in reply. This isn’t how you planned it. This isn’t how it was supposed to end.

The screams of women broke through your thoughts.

Your friends.

The fire must have travelled.

You tried to move towards them, but Michael had his feet on your hands. Crushing them and keeping you in place. “Let go of me!” you cried out, feeling like your bones would snap at any minute. Michael just snarled, grabbing you by your neck and throwing you onto the hot marble. You hissed at the feeling. “I can assure you; the fires of hell are much worse than this.” Your dream flashed through your mind. You tried to reach for the blade you carried, but Michael quickly took it out of your hand, snapping your wrist in the process. “This ended differently last time. I won’t let it happen again,” he growled. You looked up at the ceiling with bleary eyes. The heat made the paint of the frescoes melt into grotesque images; the screams of your peers seemed to get louder. “Music to my ears,” Michael said, closing his eyes and relishing in the heat and pain. “How?” was the only thing you could choke out. He reached over to the candles, holding it so you could see the base. Some sort of demonic seal was stamped into the wax. “Not a single holy candle has burned in this chapel since I took over all those years ago. No one’s ever checked,” he shrugged.

The screaming finally stopped. You knew what it meant, a sob shaking your body. The symbols and scripture carved into the arches and ceiling of the convent were never meant to protect. The realisation washing over your face. Father Langdon only laughed, as if he had been told the funniest joke. “If only people still valued prophetic dreams like they did back then. But I won’t give you the privilege of being a martyr this time St Maria Y/N,” he sang the last part.

His nails had turned claw-like, tearing straight through the fabric of your clothing. Leaving you bare on the burning alter before him. You were sure the smell of burning flesh was from you.

The timber of the chapel began to collapse around you, always narrowly missing you. His hand finally let go of your neck, leaving a collar of bruises behind. His hands ran up and down your body, pinching and groping every inch. The events of tonight had left you paralysed and numb to everything.

“Let me help you fully enjoy the sin of lust this time. God has no use for your body now.”

The heat had gotten to you, you could no longer fight to stay awake. You let your eyes shut, the sound of laughing being the last thing you heard.

////

Fire destroys historic convent of St. Maria Y/N, again: No survivors. One missing

////

The fire spread through the world. Two lifetimes worth of memories kept you quiet most of the time. You could only cry. The blond man just laughed.

AN: Thank you all for reading, finally another story done! I’m not sure if im totally happy with the ending but i hope it was good enough for my readers! Until next time!

#My writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #SD7

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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Sacrifce

Warnings: Dub-con, breeding kink, Human sacrifice

AO3

The winter had been harsh and long. The snow was thick over the fields, making sure that no crops would grow. The village was down to its last few animals; even the ones that had perished due to the harsh conditions had to be used up and eaten. The winter rations used up long ago, when the people thought it would be a normal cold season. No one had suspected that the ice would remain for this long. Spring should have started by now, the fields should have been lush and green, lambs and calves should have been dotted around the meadows and pastures. But here you were, cocooned in all the furs the family owned, ignoring pangs of hunger, and wishing to feel the warmth of the sun once more. Clearly this was the anger of the gods, and something had to be done in order to appease them or else your entire village would perish. A decision was made. A sacrifice was needed. It couldn’t be livestock; you were already struggling. The village elders had decided that there were already too many mouths to feed, so a human life it would be. It couldn’t be one of the boys, because obviously strong young men were needed to do what little labour was needed in the village. Elders were needed to pass on knowledge. Mothers were needed to raise the children. And this particular entity did not accept the lives of children. That left the girls of marriageable age. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself. Something in the back of your mind told you that it would be you. Your family wasn’t particularly important, you had no elders to vouch for you in the council, and as much as they cared about the ‘good of the people’, they were not prepared to let go of their own granddaughters. When the decision was announced, you were not surprised. You hoped it was quick, whatever it was. //// For some morbid reason, you were dressed like a bride. The ceremonial garb was far too thin for the temperature. Maybe you were to freeze to death. Whoever this god was, his temple was located in the mountains near your village. It was, however, a surprisingly short trek. You assumed you would perish along the way seen as you were barefoot, without furs and not well fed. The people of the village could not even extend those courtesies to you. You looked around at the entrance of the temple, it just seemed like a dark and icy cave. It had gone unused for so long. The Jotun god, Loki had fallen out of the people's favour long ago. Mischief and chaos were not welcome by the people. Instead, his brother, Thor remained as the favoured god of the region. Maybe the harsh winter was revenge and punishment for forsaking him. A harsh reminder to the people that he still existed, and that his anger was not to be taken lightly. An elder spoke to you as your hands were tied, you weren’t really listening. A bitter drink was given to you, it burned on the way down, but it was the most warmth you had felt in a while. A thick veil was placed over your head, apparently you weren’t allowed to see what was about to happen, a small mercy. You were led into the temple, the lack of harsh wind making things a little more bearable, but the pure ice on the floor made your bare feet hurt. You were pushed onto your knees, the cold seeping into your bones. The elder walked away. You listened as the voices of the men drifted away from the entrance, leaving your fate in the hands of something unknown. Your only company was the constant dripping, echoing from somewhere in the cave, and the sound of your own thoughts. You hoped it was worth it. A numbing sensation began to take over, probably caused by the drink from earlier. //// You jolted awake at the sound of total silence. The wind could no longer be heard, and the dripping had stopped. You still couldn’t see anything. Yet somehow the room seemed a lot bigger, you felt more exposed, missing the strange comfort of the enclosed space you were supposedly left in. Had you been moved? As your eyes began to grow heavy again, you heard a shuffling from in front of you. The noise causing you to sit up straight. Whatever it was, its presence was suffocating. “Now what do we have here?” The voice was like velvet. Otherworldly even. It seemed to descend, getting closer to you. “A shivering little lamb, all for me.” This must have been Loki. You fought the urge to run out of wherever you were. “Well, it seems like the people haven’t been able to forget me, no matter how hard they try.” He grabbed your tied wrists, the rope falling away like water. His hands felt so big compared to yours. His cold touch made you tingle. “Oh you poor thing. Freezing, aren’t you?” You could only nod. He responded with a light chuckle. “Are you going to eat me?” you blurted out, not thinking about what you were saying. He moved away from you. You could feel him staring at you. You knew he was grinning. “Of course, I am,” he got closer again, “it is up to you how,” he whispered. You gulped. There seemed to be innuendo in his statement. He moved again, this time directly in front of you. You gasped as you saw his fingers hook under your veil. Big and blue was the only way you could describe them, with raised ridges. You wanted to trace them with your fingers. Your thoughts were cut short by the tugging on your veil. Your hands shot up to cover your scrunched up eyes. You felt the veil come off, the cool air hitting your head. “Look at me, Y/N”, his voice boomed around the space. You never told him your name, you were sure of it. His tone left no space to argue. How could you defy a powerful god anyway? You knew what his wrath could bring first-hand. You lowered your shaky hands first, placing them on your thighs, gripping your knees. You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the new light. Your eyes fell to the bottom of the dais you were kneeling at. Ever so slowly your gaze travelled up, taking in each individual, intricately carved step. Finally, your eyes landed on the being sprawled out over his crystal throne. His head rested on his hand, a bored expression on his face. The only way you could describe him was ‘magnificent’. A beauty like no other. You could see why mortals would fear him, but he was not the grotesque creature you expected him to be. He seemed amused at your expression, raising a brow at you, causing you to blush, you wanted to be back behind the veil to hide your own embarrassment. “I expected a little more screaming, mortals usually can’t handle what they cannot understand,” he finally spoke again. You could do nothing but owlishly blink. “Stand,” he commanded. You scrambled up, your legs resisting after kneeling for so long. “Come here,” he made a ‘come hither’ gesture with his finger. You slowly made your way up the icy steps, becoming painfully aware of your bare feet. You tried to look away when you stood directly in front of him, even sitting the god dwarfed you in size. His icy hand reached forward, gently holding your chin and making you face him. Those red eyes seemed to study your face intensely. You stared right back, taking in all his features. High cheekbones and a sharp nose, all accented by the same ridges he had on his hands. You followed the patterns to the column of his throat, stopping yourself from letting your eyes wander further down; you knew he was covered in the lines. You wondered if they were natural in Jotuns, or if they were burned into the skin, like a rite of passage of sorts. You had heard other tribes in your area had similar traditions. Your thoughts drifted to mapping them out with your own hands. “Such a curious little thing you are,” he said. He must have caught you staring, your eyes darted away from him as he chuckled. You caught a glimpse at his teeth, pearly white and sharp. He pinched your cheeks as you tried to turn away, thoroughly enjoying the heat that rushed into them. “I forget how soft and delicate Midgardians are,” he mumbled. He pulled away from you, looking you up and down as he thought what to do with you. “Your people want salvation, yes? They want the winter to end?” he asked. You quickly nodded; it was the reason you were here. He hummed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. A grin spread across his face. The room around you began to spin before you fell back onto soft furs. A fire crackled nearby, you sighed at finally feeling warmth after so long. Loki stood above you, staring you down, the light from the fire making his features sharper than before. You felt like a mouse at his feet. You almost screamed as he got down, hovering above you on all fours, engulfing you with his body. Your noses touching. “I will offer your people reprieve from my winter,” he started. “Th- Thank you,” you stuttered. “However,” his grin became more malicious, “If you do not provide me an heir by next spring, the winter will plague your lands until you do,” he whispered in your ear, placing a cold hand across your belly. His tone left no room for question, the future of your people depended on this. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Loki carried you to the furs next to the fire, warming you up even further, you hadn’t noticed you were shivering until you stopped. “I am a cruel god, but I will show mercy to those that deserve it,” he mumbled. His cool hands trailed their way down the column of your throat, you gasped as his lips flowed close behind. Stopping along the way to mark and nip you with his sharp teeth, the marks would scar. This was the closest anyone had ever been to you. His hands made quick work of the cord holding your dress together. He peeled the thin fabric away from you. You tried to cover your bare skin, but your hands wouldn’t move, held down by some sort of magic. His hands found your soft skin again, making you groan as he paid attention to your breasts. “What sweet sounds you make, little maiden.” He made eye contact with you as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands broke free and buried themselves into his hair, your head falling back in unfamiliar pleasure. He smiles with his wet lips, before moving onto the other. You felt like you were burning up inside. He let go of your nipple with a ‘pop’, the cool air brushing over them. “I hope these will be full soon.” His lips travelled down your abdomen to the tops of your thighs. His hands ran up your legs until they met his lips. In one swift movement he held them open, your legs over his shoulders as your wetness was exposed to him. You covered your face in embarrassment. His fingers ghosted over your sensitive flash, causing your hips to jerk at the sensation, wanting more. “Is your cunt dripping for your god?” His mouth was so close to your heat. He used his magic to remove your hands from your face, making you look at him again. His red eyes burned into yours as his tongue liked a stripe through your folds. You sighed at the feeling, tightening your thighs around him and wanting more. He continued to noisily suck, distracting you from his finger that began to enter you. The intrusion was so foreign to you, but you couldn’t help but give in. Wanting more. You felt so greedy, you had never felt this sort of wanting before. You didn’t think your mother would be happy with you if she found out. Loki began sucking at your sensitive bud, bringing you to the edge of whatever this was. “Please...” you breathed out. You looked down at him with teary eyes, you didn’t know what you were begging for. With one final suck, Loki had you seeing stars, finally falling off the edge you were headed towards. Your legs jerked around him, keeping him where he was as he looked up at you with amusement in his eyes. You looked down at him after coming down from your high, his face wet with your release. You let your legs relax, allowing him to move up to you, this time capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He broke away, leaving you breathless. Using his magic, he quickly got rid of what little clothing he was in. You were right about the ridges being everywhere, your hands were loose again, and you reached for his chest, finally getting a feel of the cool skin. He growled as your fingers traced the ridges down to his stomach. His hands stopped yours as you reached his hips. You let your eyes wander down, they widened at the size of his cock. He chuckled at your reaction. “Mortals are quite adaptable are they not? I’m sure your cunt will be able to accommodate me.” He brought your hands to feel his ridged and velvety skin. He sighed at the feeling of your warm hands. He shuffled you around again, spreading you open for what was to come next. He rubbed his cock along your folds, the temperature difference already making you hiss. You didn't think he would fit. With one hand on your hip, he guided the tip to your entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, stopping to let you stretch around him until he bottomed out. The only way you could describe the feeling was ‘full’. You knew no mortal man could ever fill you like this, they wouldn’t even get the opportunity to. His hand pressed down on your stomach, “Can you feel me here?” he groaned. All you could do is nod, no coherent words forming any time soon. Both hands found your hips this time, he began to thrust in a steady rhythm, slowly picking up the pace. You knew you’d never get used to his size, however long you were here. The room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, you moaned anytime he hit that spot inside you. Loki moved you so effortlessly, as if you were simply a toy, made for his pleasure. The coil in your belly began to tighten again, you didn’t know how much longer you would last. “Please, My King… I…” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight the feeling.

“You want to cum again? So soon? Aren’t you being a little greedy mortal?” he taunted. His words made you clench around him a little tighter. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hoping he would show you this one mercy. “Pathetic little thing,” he grumbled, his fingers reaching for your clit, letting you tumble off the edge again. He kept on thrusting through your aftershocks, heightening the sensations. He fully sheathed himself inside you before his head fell back in ecstasy, pumping you full of his seed. You went limp on the furs, trying to catch your breath. The heat of the fire felt too much for you at that moment. Loki pulled himself out with an obscene noise, inspecting the aftermath of his work.

“Your people are lucky to have sent you, little mortal.” He effortlessly carried you back to the bed, letting you sink into the covers. “You were strong enough to last through receiving my seed, and you’ll be strong enough to carry my heir,” his hand rubbed your tummy, seemingly deep in thought, “Not many would have survived.” He climbed in behind you. You groaned as his fingers found your sensitive cunt. He speared you back onto his already hard cock, you whimpered at the stretch. “I’ll let you rest for a little while, but you will keep me warm until we can start again. You have a purpose to fulfil, remember?” “Yes My King,” you whispered back, trying to adjust to the foreign sensation.

#My writing #oneshot #loki laufeyson #loki x reader

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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I miss you, and your writing! I think about you often!

I MISS U TOO AND I HOPE UR DOING GOOD!

I want to come back and start writing again but well see what plans life has in store for me rn

#personal #asks

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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ehehehehe hi guys xoxo

#personal

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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im not back at all but just a heads up to when i do come back this will probably become a Loki blog too, mans has had a chokehold on me since I was 12 and i wanna let it out lmao

#personal

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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One Year On

I cannot believe it’s been a year since I first posted my writing on here!

What Kind Of Man is officially 1 year old today. This was the first fic ive ever written, one that I love so much and the only one over ever finished lmao.

looking back at this year, a lot has happened. I’ve made friends and lost friends. I’ve experienced both the highs and the worst of the lows in this fandom. I’ve even changed blogs. Despite all this I want to thank everyone that I’ve met up until this point.

I want to thank all the people that have ever read my work, both new and old and I especially want to thank my regulars and those that have left the nicest of comments (u kno who you are and I’m sending u big hugs rn💖)

I want to give a special thanks to Carissa, the person that inspired me in the first place. You were the first person i ever interacted with here and the first person to ever read my work. Unhallowed Wretch had one of the biggest impacts and was one of my biggest inspirations for WKM and the writing that followed and I hope that maybe one day I can see how you wanted it to end and I will forever wait for that day whenever it comes. I hope that maybe my silly fics might impact someone in the same way one day. I always (and still do) thought that you were so cool and the fact that I can call you a friend a year on is astounding. So thank you from the bottom of my heart, I really wouldn’t be here without you.

I’m not really sure what the future holds for me or this blog, we are all experiencing times of uncertainty and all seem to be in transitional periods of our lives. I hope that we all come out on top and become the people we want to be 💖

inspiration seems to be a luxury that I am unable to afford at the moment, but I really do hope that I can finish the things that I’ve started for a character that I loved sm.

Thank you for reading!

#personal #michael langdon x reader

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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#Officially 21 ✌🏽🤪

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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How do you think the Cody’s would react to you getting pregnant when your relationship was still pretty new?

awh surely the boys are good fathers no matter what, right? sneaking this under a cut because i got carried away

Every aspect of Outpost!Michael’s life is so heavily planned and orchestrated that, by the time he’s brought about the end of the world and established the apocalyptic outposts, the thought of starting a family is well beyond his mind. Nevertheless, his arrival at Outpost 3 led him to you: the enchanting gray he didn’t remember from the occupant lists. Your gradual back-and-forth flirting over the common room over two weeks led you falling head over heels into the most romantic, steamy and intense relationship of your lives — but was that all down to the isolation, living in close proximity underground every hour of the day?

It seems your nerves as you stuttered out your secret at the end of Michael’s stressful interview day were completely justified, judging by the blank expression on his face. “Pregnant?” He repeated sternly as he rubbed his temple. “You’re aware we’re facing the end of humanity as we know it, and you’re bringing another life into this barren husk of a world?” His brows knitted tightly together as he computed the situation before him, gaze darting around his bronzed office before falling back to your eyes.

“But the baby is mine?” A grin curled the corner of his lips ever so slightly as realisation sunk in, lunging forward to grasp your hand over his desk. “Then we have nine months to get to know each other properly before we have another life to get to know too.”

---

The spontaneity of Xavier Plympton’s life up until this moment has taken him to some extraordinary places: experimenting with drugs, shooting gay porn, even counseling at Camp Redwood for a summer he thought would be safe and peaceful. He invited you along for the sole purpose of showing off his new girl to his closest friends, introducing you by way of shoving you all together in a deserted summer camp to get to know one another.

As Xavier thoughtfully plates up breakfast around the campfire for everyone, there’s no hiding the excitement glowing across his countenance, brightening his cheeks and planting that special glisten in his eyes. However, catching sight of the greasy fried egg on your plate sends you racing back to the girls’ cabin — your first sign of morning sickness has arrived. Blissfully unaware of your condition and assuming you’d simply forgotten something in your bunk, Xavier begins his announcement while idly bouncing on the balls of his feet: “I’m sure you’ll all get a chance to speak to Y/N while we’re here, but I wanted you to be the first to know we’re officially together as of today!”

“And she’s pregnant already, doofus,” Montana jibes with a roll of her eyes, jabbing a finger in the direction you darted and couldn’t be seen for dust. “I’ve seen this happen a thousand times over, you knocked her up on the first time, Plympton!”

Xavier pauses, staring into the middle distance for a moment. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb moment struck him, he grins even wider and chuckles to himself. “I’m gonna be a dad and a Hollywood actor? This summer is so fucking rad!”

---

There’s no way of skirting around it — family is a very sensitive subject around Duncan Shepherd. Not that you could consider your impending motherhood much of a family when the father of your unborn child is your soon-to-be-divorced boss at the Shepherd Freedom Foundation. The nights you spent rolling around atop his desk when the office was empty couldn’t ever be the starting line for a genuine family unit, could it? As far as you were aware, your pussy was merely a gateway drug to letting out his frustrations of his messy divorce. He’d been married for 7 years and they had no children to show for it, was he even the fatherly type?

Duncan’s gaze caught yours as you grabbed your bag from beneath your desk, heading to the doctors for your first checkup of yours and your baby’s health, but you forced his image out of your mind. You promised yourself you’d tell the expectant father closer to your 12-week scan in hopes you could gather further information on his promise as a dad in the meantime. Once you headed for the door, Duncan grasped your arm and pulled you in to kiss you in front of the entire office, faces behind desks frozen in shock, a deep red flushing your own cheeks while he leaned in to deepen your connection.

“I know,” he muttered indicatively into your mouth as you parted lips and he guided you to the exit, an arm tightly wrapped around your waist. “Penny saw your pregnancy test in the office restroom when you left. Be honest with me, is the baby mine?” You meekly nodded as he ushered you around a corner and through the front doors. “Then consider this your last day in the office, you won’t have to work a day while you’re carrying my child.” He drew to a halt as you reached the busy sidewalk, his free hand gently planting into the plane of your abdomen, as flat as it would be for the next nine months. “Don’t worry, I’ll be paying to keep you both safe and happy. You’re a Shepherd now, and Shepherds look after each other.”

----

The most paternal surfer boy this side of Bali, Jim Mason warms to the idea of becoming a father immediately. Who cares that you’d only been seeing each other for two months before the condom broke in the midst of an intense session up against the rocks on the beach bathed in the glow of a particularly beautiful sunset? On reflection, it was quite possibly the most romantic setting in which to make a baby, stealing chaste kisses and panting breathless declarations of love in between. Those same hushed affections spilled from his lips when you told him you were pregnant, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around like an ecstatic carousel. The blissful happiness lasted a month and a half, until one evening the deafening silence around the house suggested your boyfriend was still at the beach.

Wandering down to the shore, you spotted a familiar form hunched over at the water’s edge, head between his legs and his arched back pulsing as if he was sobbing. As you approached, his gentle weeping nearly drowned out by the crashing surf, it became clear that this breakdown was a side of Jim you’d never seen before, a change that exposed a weakness in him. He noticed your approaching footfalls as the sand squished beneath you.

“I’m… I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” he stuttered under ragged breaths. “I can’t, I… I’m never going to be a good father!” He sobbed weakly as you perched beside him, draping a sympathetic arm over his shoulder. “I’ll fuck it all up, just like my dad fucked it all up with me and Medina.” His head instinctively dipped into you, leaning over and pressing his weight against you. “I’m scared, I’m scared I won’t be good enough.”

Of course, what he doesn’t understand in this moment is that the simple fact he’s concerned about how good a father he’ll be already proves he’ll be a better father than his own. Suddenly, his sniffing ceased, raising his head to gaze into your eyes through a tear-blurred haze. “We… we can do this together, right? As long as I’ve got you, we can do anything.”

---

When he first found out you were expecting his baby, Richard fell silent again. His bad dreams intensified, leaving him a quivering, frantic shell of his former self squirming in bed beside you. What could be so terrifying to him, the thought of becoming a father at such a young age? Or of being tied to the girl he only met a month ago over a heated exchange in the clinic lounge concerning the TV channel of choice on a Friday night?

As he writhed among the sheets, you reached out a hand to rest on his chest and reassured him between weak whimpers escaping his lips. “They’re… they’re coming,” he stuttered in a panic, “baby… they’re coming for our baby!” His knees flailed about, scuffing up the sheets and shaking with fear. “Don’t… don’t touch her,” he exclaimed defiantly, balling his fists at his side and drawing his bottom lip between clenched teeth. “Leave my daughter alone!” Suddenly, his fidgeting ceased, his fingers unfurled and his features melted down from their raging skewed frown to a peaceful, serene half-smile.

Without warning, his hand journeyed behind your head and scooped around your shoulders, drawing you in and holding you as close as physically possible — all without opening his eyes, almost as if he were still locked inside his dreamscape. His other hand cupped the back of your head and pressed your face into his chest. “Stay away from my girls, they’re mine.”

---

Meeting Andy Dolan at his sickeningly excessive birthday party and bonding over your shared adoration of cocaine wasn’t the ideal foundation for a family. In fact, it wasn’t any foundation for a family. Hiding from the paparazzi was a full-time job for the actor with whom you had somehow fallen into a casual relationship, he always felt distant and preoccupied, glaring out of every passing window and obsessing over internet searches. He was already struggling to handle his crumbling connection with his child and his bitter divorce, so you figured his only feasible response to discovering he’d already knocked up his new partner wouldn’t be a happy one, particularly given the cold stare he flashed at you for turning down his offer of a line as you chilled out the night before.

Hoping Andy was suitably distracted by rehearsing for an upcoming screen test, you aimed to sneak out of the mansion and head straight for the clinic, your mind sufficiently made up that you couldn’t keep this baby, least of all raise it in the shattered environment around you. Reaching the gates and waiting for the doorman to operate the electronics, your mission had succeeded up until a hand curled around your wrist and spun you on your heels to front the skewed rage on Andy’s face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His words spat through gritted teeth. “Did you think you’d get away with this, huh? Getting rid of my baby without even telling me?!” You had no chance to defend yourself or question how he found out before he launched into another tirade. “You think I won’t be a good father? Because I’m always off my face in one capacity or another?”

His grip weakened on your forearm for his hand to slip down your wrist and entwined his fingers with yours, the other reaching up to cup the back of your neck as his voice softened. “The coke? Gone. It’s gone. I’ll go back to the wellness centre and do it properly this time. Just please, please don’t get rid of our baby? Give me a chance to be a proper dad this time?”

#this was so 🥺🥺🥺#your characterisation is always dead on too

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

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Barely Scratching the Surface

Summary: Being caught up in supernatural business doesn't mean the rest of the world waits for you to be ready.

Word Count: 3205

A/N: Act II, Chapter II of Mad Love, let's GET IT! There is a bit of sexiness btw, but no actual sex. Ahahaha I like pissing you all off.

Everything you're looking for in terms of previous Mad Love chapters is here

It’s cool today, a sure sign that fall is just around the corner. Due to it still not being considered actually cold, Kate shoots you a glance as you drink your coffee, your hands only mildly shaking from the caffeine when you set it back down on the library table.

“Okay, I’m not judging or anything, but this is your third cup of coffee today. And it’s been hot coffee, which--” she pulls a face to illustrate her disgust at your choice in temperature. “Is everything okay, or should I get you a coffee IV?”

“I just haven’t been sleeping well lately, and it’s really starting to catch up to me today.”

This feels like the understatement of the year. As it turns out, though, being kidnapped and beaten has lasting effects beyond the physical ones. Physically, you recovered just fine. To anybody that asked, nothing had changed since then. You’re perfectly fine...until the lights go out at night and you close your eyes to go to sleep. Then, you’re haunted by nightmare after nightmare, being forced to relive that ordeal in excruciating detail. Michael, though he’s a man who respects your space, has taken to sleeping with you in your room (yes, you still have separate rooms; what can you say? You enjoy your own space) so that he can be there for you when nightmares do happen.

Last night’s nightmare was arguably the worst one since you started having them. You were forced by Cordelia to kill Michael, and though you tried to resist, her magic prevented you from doing so. You had slit his throat, watching him bleed out before you were made to do the same with your own. When you woke up with a scream, Michael had pulled you to him, muttering that you were safe while you sobbed into his chest and tried to remember that he was actually there and alive. Needless to say, you did not go back to sleep again last night...or the night before, and so on and so forth. So yes, coffee is most definitely a necessity for you.

“Is it your senior thesis that’s stressing you out? I met with my advisor the other day about mine and I nearly burst into tears in front of her.”

The comment stops you in your tracks, and you stare at Kate with wide eyes. She backtracks when she realizes you’re not walking with her.

“Oh shit, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned the thesis if that’s the thing that’s stressing you out.”

“No, you’re fine! It’s just that I...well, I forgot about it, to be honest.”

“What? You, who has been thinking about your thesis since we met in freshman year Comp II, forgot?”

You groan, rubbing your forehead in disdain. “I know! I’m so stupid.”

“No, don’t say that! You’re not stupid, you just got caught up in everything. We are seniors now, after all. Gotta pack in all of that college experience while we still can.”

“So, where are you at on yours? Am I way behind?”

“Really, you’re not far behind at all. I only have an outline done.”

“You’re not just saying that to be nice, right? You don’t, like, actually have the whole thing done and feel bad for me?”

Kate laughs. “No! Seriously, (Y/N), you’re okay. You should go home, email your advisor, and then take a nice, long nap.”

“That sounds nice,” you sigh. “If only I could relax enough to take a nap.”

She looks around conspiratorially, making sure nobody is around before she drops her voice. “Do you want some weed, because I have a friend who can get you the best--”

“No! Well...maybe. I just need to get my butt into gear. I’ve been way too distracted lately.”

“I don’t know that that’s gonna change, considering homecoming’s in two weeks.” It sounds dumb that homecoming is something that will be capturing all of your attention, but it’s the quintessential college experience! Plus, it’s the first of many lasts this year, and you wouldn’t miss out on it for anything.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I need to get going, but seriously, let me know if you need my friend’s number or anything at all. I can even rub your back while you try to sleep!”

You laugh at her offer. “Where do you have to be, anyways?”

Kate looks at you guiltily. “I have a...meeting...with my advisor...about my thesis.”

“Oh my god,” you throw your head back with a groan. “I’m leaving before I walk to the registrar and drop out of school.”

“Stop stressing!” Kate calls out to you as her final word of parting.

Of course, her words do nothing for you, and you continue to stress the entire way home. When you close the door to the house behind you, you let your bag fall to the floor (gently, because you have your laptop in there), and yell in frustration. “Fuck!”

Michael appears out of nowhere, likely transmuting, and you jump in fright when he’s in front of you.

“Don’t do that when I’m already going through a crisis!” You know that you’re openly whining now, but you really don’t care.

“Why are you going through a crisis?” Michael’s lips twitch, trying to tamper down his amusement in case it’s something actually serious.

“Don’t laugh, Michael, it’s your fault!”

“What did I do?”

“You’ve distracted me all summer long with your sweet talk and ‘wanting to properly woo me,’ and now I’m way behind on my thesis!”

He blinks, and the lack of a response frustrates you to no end. “Love, I don’t know what a thesis is.”

“If I want to graduate college and prove that I paid attention for four years, I have to do this huge research project within my major and present it to a committee. I’m supposed to have already figured out what I’m writing about and be communicating with my advisor, and instead I completely forgot about it until Kate mentioned it today!”

“Okay…” Michael puts his hands on your shoulders. “You need to take a deep breath, (Y/N).”

You nod, following his instructions and focusing on breathing. “Right, deep breaths, okay.”

“Are you still going to be able to write your thesis and graduate?”

“It’s due in November.”

“That’s plenty of time!”

You give him a look that tells him you absolutely don’t think that’s plenty of time. “Mhm. I have to go email my advisor and see if I can meet with her tomorrow to get this started.”

“I think it would be better if you relaxed a bit first.”

“I think it would be better if you shut your mouth.” Your mouth snaps shut when you say that, and you smile sheepishly at Michael. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just feel like a bomb was dropped on me today.”

“How about this? Go and do what you need to do, get your meeting set up, and then get dressed up, because I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“You wanna take me out?”

“Of course. Weren’t we just talking about how you wanted proper dates? I don’t know much about dating etiquette, but from what I’ve seen, dinner dates are pretty common.”

“I’d say they’re common, yeah.” It’s almost jarring, how quickly your day has gone from absolutely ruined to looking better and better. “Should I wear a dress for this dinner?”

“Wear that blue sundress you have, the one that you always like to spin around in.” You smile, not realizing that he’s noticed you doing that until now.

“Okay. I’ll email my advisor and then shower and get ready.”

“See you in an hour?” Michael suggests, kissing you when you nod. “Perfect.”

Your advisor, thankfully, must have been by her computer, because she emails you back by the time you’re out of the shower. She asks you how your summer was, assures you that you’re not behind and that over half of her advisees haven’t reached out to her yet (the best news you’ve heard all week, really), and asks you if tomorrow afternoon works with your schedule for a meeting. You immediately reply and let her know that summer was good, you’re so relieved to hear you’re not behind, and that tomorrow works perfectly. Tossing your phone on your bed, you take a deep sigh of relief before toweling your hair off, thus also toweling your worries off. As usual, you’ve made a big deal out of a small non-issue. Yay overthinking!

Michael smiles knowingly when you meet him downstairs, and you can already tell that he knows you’ve solved your main problem today. Michael doesn’t pull an “I told you so,” instead taking your hand and telling you that you look beautiful.

“So, where are we going?”

“Have you heard of The Pavilion?”

You’re pretty sure your eyes bulge out of your head. “That fancy restaurant that celebrities and athletes go to?”

“Celebrities, athletes, and the Antichrist and his wife.”

“I think I’m gonna need a nicer dress.”

“Nonsense, you’ll be the most beautiful one there.” Like the gentleman that he is, Michael holds his arm out for you to take, and for a moment you’re brought back to the night of the Cooperative function. “Shall we?”

The Pavilion, as it turns out, is more than happy to kick out a couple of championship athletes and award-winning actresses to make room for the Antichrist (plus one). You and Michael are seated at a table that’s set away from the main area, which means more privacy and less prying eyes. The waiter eagerly pours you both a generous glass of wine and assures you that you can take all of the time you need to peruse the menu before disappearing with a wide smile, making Michael chuckle and you hide a smile into your napkin.

“Have you been here before?” you ask, taking a sip of the wine while you look through the menu.

“A couple of times, but never with company as good as yours.”

You roll your eyes, but feel your cheeks heat up anyways. “We’re already married, Michael, you don’t have to flirt with me.”

“What if I like flirting with you? After all, you’re so cute when you’re all bashful.” Your mouth opens and shuts as you try to think of something to say, making Michael smile triumphantly. “So, you seem to be in a much better mood than you were this afternoon.”

“I am. My advisor emailed me back and told me that I’m not behind at all. We’re meeting tomorrow to get started on my thesis.”

“And that’s good, yes?”

You nod. “Very good.”

“So, what are you planning to do? You do graduate next semester, after all.”

“You’ve never asked me about my post grad plans,” you say in surprise.

“And I’d like to change that from now on. I want to be involved in your life and support you just as much as you support me.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Michael waves his hand, a gesture meant to tell you to go on. “To be honest, grad school is something that I’ve thought a lot about. It’s so hard to get a job in my field without a masters degree, and I also just really enjoy what I’m studying. I’m not ready to be done furthering my knowledge yet, however lame that sounds.”

“That doesn’t sound lame at all.”

The waiter reappears, just as eager as before, to take your orders and top off your wine. You also request some water, because this waiter must be wanting to see you carried out of the restaurant with how heavy-handed his pouring is. You’re not expecting Michael to continue on the same subject of conversation as before, but he persists.

“Will you be attending graduate school at the same school you’re at now?”

“Probably not. I like my school, but they don’t really have a great graduate program. Plus, it’ll be nice to go somewhere new. I’ve been looking at schools in the area obviously, but--”

“Obviously?” Michael interrupts.

“Well yeah, I’m assuming we can’t really move anywhere for me to go to school, considering you have the Cooperative here and this is basically your home base.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to...change your plans, your life, just because of what I do.”

“Really?”

Michael looks mildly offended that you’ve even considered this. “Of course. We’ll move anywhere you want to go to school.”

“You would move with me?” you squeak. “What about the Cooperative? Your work is here, your followers, your everything is here.”

“Well you’re my everything, so if you left, my everything actually wouldn’t be here.”

Your nose begins to tingle, a sure sign that you’re going to cry, and you furiously rub it to get rid of the feeling.

“Besides, lots of people work from home now; why can’t I?” That makes you laugh.

“Yeah, the Antichrist is running a Zoom meeting. I’ve seen crazier things.”

Michael takes your hand from across the table, kissing the back of it tenderly. “I would do anything for you, darling. Start a war, end a war, kill, heal--if you asked it of me, I would do it without hesitation.”

God, you love Michael. You really, really love Michael. Yet, even when you’re trying not to think about the end of the world, you can’t help but to think of exactly that. Does he mean it when he says he would do anything you asked? Does that also mean not blowing up the world with nuclear missiles? It’s an interesting thought, and one you’ll think more on later, but right now, you’d rather not think of what you need to accomplish at a time like this.

“So,” Michael props a hand under his chin, leaning in closer towards you, “where do you want to go to graduate school? Anywhere you’d like, no matter how expensive. Money is no obstacle for us.”

“Oh gosh.” You feel especially flustered now, faced with endless possibilities of schools you once only could dream of attending. “The East Coast has always been somewhere I’ve wanted to live, and there’s such good schools there. NYU, Boston College, Georgetown, Harvard--though I really doubt I would get into Harvard, that’s more of a pipe dream.”

“Nonsense, you’ve shown me your grades before. If anyone could get into Harvard, you could.”

“You’d really be okay with moving across the country just so that I could go to the school I want to go to?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know if your sun kissed self would be able to handle moving somewhere cold.”

“I run hot, (Y/N). If anything, I would fare better in the cold weather.”

Your food arrives, ceasing conversion as you and Michael begin to eat and make small talk throughout. You can feel your cheeks continuously warm with the more wine that you consume, a pleasant buzz spreading through your body as you become tipsy. Throughout the meal, you and Michael keep sneaking glances at each other, and at one point you hook your foot around his, making him beam at you.

The night is calm when you and Michael exit the restaurant, his cloak wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm (even though you have a jean jacket, Michael claims that’s not enough and that he doesn’t want you to get sick). When you reach his car, you lean against the outside, not quite ready to drive back home yet. Michael stands opposite you, hands next to either side of your shoulders boxing you in.

“Thank you for tonight. It was just what I needed after my day today,” you say.

“Thank you for accompanying me. Spending time with you, no matter where or when, is what I assume being in Heaven must be like.” Michael laughs lightly. “Naturally, you’re the closest I’ll ever get to Heaven.”

Maybe it’s the wine you drank, or how sweet Michael always is to you. It could be the mood of the evening, or the way that he’s looking at you. Whatever the reason, you feel compelled to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to your lips to kiss him. As his lips move against yours, your hand fumbles with the handle on the door before you get it open. You and Michael fall into the back of the car, Michael putting his arms out to stop himself from landing on top of you. You giggle at how excited he looks, shutting the door before pulling you onto his lap and going back to kissing you again.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” you say as Michael trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at every inch of skin he can find.

“You kissed people like this in high school?”

“No! But making out in the back of a car feels very high school to me, like we’re sneaking around my parents or something.”

“I love you, but please don’t talk about your parents while we’re kissing.” You both laugh, your hands beginning to unbutton Michael’s shirt to allow yourself to feel the broad expanse of his skin. “(Y/N), we can’t…”

“Shh,” you shush, “just let me try something.”

Michael nods, which is all the green light you need. Experimentally, you roll your hips against his, making him moan in pleasured surprise. He instinctively bucks up, his growing bulge rubbing against you through your underwear.

No words are needed as you move against each other, hands on each other and lips almost constantly locked. You’re sure that the car must be rocking, and you can see condensation beginning to bead on the tinted windows the longer this continues.

“Michael--fuck--I’m close,” you whine, bouncing up and down on his lap. You’re still both fully clothed, only adding to the eroticism of the situation.

He nods. “Me too.”

His hands grip your hips tightly as he takes full control, thrusting against you even faster. Finally, the tension in your lower stomach snaps, and you cum with a moan in Michael’s shoulder. He only needs to rock you against him a few more times before his hips stutter and he cums as well. Michael kisses you again, both of you panting as you try to catch your respective breaths. You eventually regain enough strength to climb off of Michael’s lap, falling onto the seat next to him.

“I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’m pretty sure this was the best sex I’ve ever had, and we didn’t even have actual sex,” Michael says.

“How did we not think of this sooner?”

“I don’t know, but now that we have…” Michael smiles wickedly, his hand trailing up your thigh. You snicker, batting him away.

“Maybe when we’re not in a car. I’m a proper lady, Michael, I deserve to be eaten out like one.”

Michael’s jaw drops at the filth in your words, the orgasm giving you a loose tongue, and his eyes sparkle with mischief. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”

You kiss him once more before fixing your dress, which was pulled down under your chest. “I’m willing to play the odds.”

Tag List: @trelaney @michaellangdon @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @we-did-it-joe @thatonehumanbeing05 @michaellangdonstanaccount @codycrazy @xo-angel-ox @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

#I fucking loved this sm #Its so nice to see these two again #and michael going out of his way for her is so sweet 🥺#The end had me shook lmao

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