Hi hi! Can I request something for Tfc if it’s not too much?
Basically we know that humans have treated monsters terribly maybe including the kid monsters which makes the cast resent humans a little more for hurting even the kids of their own species. So can I request headcanon of Tfc with a F!Mc who adopted a kid monster like a while ago and they can clearly tell the kid has been treated well and is spoiled with love and affection? Like the kid clearly has the biggest smile, is fed well, sleeps well without nightmares, is healthy, is in school, has friends, and adores the F!Mc and calls her Mom?
Thank you for your time💕
Oh, that is so cute🩷 let’s do it ❤️
The freak circus x f!Mc with a monster kid
The first time they met you…you were like a ray of light…so bright and warm as you talked to them like they were people inside of the freaky circus performers…they got a lot of hate and discrimination when they came here… not that it was anything new for them though…
But one day you told them you had a child… and their hearts collectively dropped… so you had a partner… and had a child together….it made sense such a beautiful and kind person like you would not be single… they don’t even know what they expected… it’s not like he would choose them even if you were anyway…
But one day when you brought the kid with you to the circus…. They were absolutely stunned…. Your child was a monster… not a half monster…a full on monster… their own species… they could feel it… they could smell it… how is this possible?…
The first day they saw that child… they didn’t know what to say because they didn’t know what they were looking at… that sweet little thing… was happy… like actually visibly happy…
They were barely even hiding their monster form… the two little horns on their head were visible… not even wearing a mask clearly showing their sharp fangs and glowing split pupil eyes…even the clothing was visibly normal… not like them trying to hide every part of their body like it was shameful…
The kid was simply wearing a loose T-shirt with their favourite cartoon character in the front, a pair of shorts and sneakers, a lollipop in one hand as they were licking it happily, the other hand holding your hand as they were asking about everything in the circus, pulling you to go to the different tents… why were they so happy?… it didn’t make sense….
In this world… monsters were treated worse than animals… hunted down like they were a disease… they themselves have experienced that first hand… being treated as nothing more than entertainment for humans who would probably find it funny if they died on stage… even they’re young we’re not spared from it…
So why was this little one… so clearly happy… living with a human no less… they didn’t even know what to feel seeing it… they do guess…you really are different… they felt it the very first time you smiled so gently and genuinely at them… it must be why they were drawn to you immediately…
They invite you and your child pretty much every day now to come to the circus… they don’t even charge or anything… they just want to see that miracle… one of their own finally not being afraid… and seeing you… you really are a miracle… so please don’t change… please don’t become like the others… they don’t know what they would do if you did…
But every day they spend with you… every day you continue to be the same kind genuine person… every day they see that child calling you mom so genuinely and happily… it makes them feel something they have not felt in a very long time…Hope
Hope… that one day things will be different… hope that you would choose them… hope that they would not need to be disgusted by their own reflection anymore… hope to see their child with you…
So please….Please… never become like those disgusting other humans… please continue to be who you are… please stay…
This is pretty short and probably quite broad because I didn’t have that many ideas, but I hope you enjoy it ❤️
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Note- You are human for this one, and their relationship is more platonic. Also this takes place during the movie timeline!
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The cozy living room of the Wachowski household was a whirlwind of activity. Knuckles, Tails, and Sonic were abuzz with energy as you tried to keep up. As Jojo’s babysitter and the honorary fourth member of this ragtag group, your days were anything but ordinary. Between Tails' tech experiments, Knuckles' newfound obsession with braiding, and Sonic's endless antics, you often found yourself being pulled in every direction.
Today was no different. Knuckles sat behind you on the couch, his large hands clumsily attempting to braid your hair with an intensity that could rival a championship match. "I do not understand why humans have so much hair," he grumbled, his brows furrowed. "It is like battling a wild beast."
You laughed, glancing over at Tails, who was sprawled out in front of you as you gently brushed his fluffy tails. "It's not that bad, Knuckles. And Tails, hold still—you keep twitching!"
“Does this hurt?” you asked, pulling through a particularly stubborn knot.
Tails winced slightly but shook his head. “Nope! Just tickles a little. But thanks for helping—I’ve been meaning to take better care of them. Gotta stay aerodynamic, you know?”
Knuckles, sitting behind you on the couch, furrowed his brow in concentration as he fumbled with a section of your hair. “Braiding is no simple task,” he declared, his tone serious.
You laughed, glancing over your shoulder. “You’re doing great, Knux. Just… maybe don’t pull so tight?”
“Noted,” he said solemnly, adjusting his grip.
Across the room, Sonic was perched on the armrest of the couch, tapping his foot impatiently. “Hey, Y/N,” he called, leaning forward. “when you’re done playing hairdresser, how about we do something fun? I’ve got this really cool idea we should try—”
“Just a minute, Sonic,” you said, not looking up from Tails’ fur.
Sonic froze mid-step, the ball caught in his gloved hand. His ears drooped slightly as he flopped onto the armrest of the couch, kicking his legs lazily. “Sure. No rush,” he muttered, but the slump in his posture betrayed his disappointment.
Knuckles glanced at Sonic, his crimson face betraying a rare flicker of sympathy. “The blue one grows restless. Perhaps we should take him on a hunt?”
“A hunt for what, Knuckles?” Tails asked, clearly amused.
Knuckles puffed out his chest. “For purpose!”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Maybe we’ll plan something after I finish here, okay?”
...
As the day wore on, you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches and snacks for everyone. The kitchen was warm and alive, the aroma of freshly chopped herbs mingling with the distant hum of conversation and laughter spilling in from the living room. Tails’ excited rambling about his latest gadget punctuated Knuckles’ booming declarations, and every now and then, a peal of laughter rippled through the air. It was the kind of noise that made the house feel less like walls and more like a heart—beating, alive, and full.
Sonic lingered near the counter, his hand idly drumming against its edge. His usual easy grin was there, but you noticed the subtle edge to it—like he was trying to hold something back.
“Need help?” he asked casually, though the slight upward tilt of his voice betrayed him.
“Sure,” you replied, pointing toward the stack of plates. “Can you grab those for me?”
In a flash, he zipped across the room, the plates balanced precariously in his arms as he stopped so close that you had to catch yourself against the counter.
“Whoa!” you exclaimed, your laugh breaking the momentary surprise.
“Sorry!” Sonic said quickly, his ears flattening as he shuffled back a step. His usual cocky demeanor faltered, replaced by a sheepish glance your way.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him, your laugh softening. “Just… maybe slow down a bit?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his hand brushing over the white band of his glove. “Yeah… sorry,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.
Sonic hopped onto one of the kitchen chairs, the bounce in his step noticeably missing. He swung his legs slightly, his eyes avoiding yours as he fiddled with his gloves, the silence settling between you.
“You alright?” you asked, tilting your head to get a better look at his face.
He hesitated, his fingers pausing mid-fidget. “It’s just… I don’t know,” he began, his voice low and uncertain. “I guess I feel like I’m kinda… left out sometimes.”
The confession hit you like a weight, and you felt your chest tighten. Setting the knife down, you pulled a chair next to him, your movement slow and deliberate.
“Sonic, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, your hand resting gently on his arm. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
He shrugged, though the gesture lacked its usual confidence. When he finally looked at you, his green eyes were unguarded, vulnerable in a way that felt rare and precious.
“I know you don’t mean to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… Tails has all his gadgets, and Knuckles has his whole ‘warrior thing.’ Sometimes it feels like… like I don’t really fit anywhere.”
The ache in his words settled heavily in the space between you. You leaned forward, squeezing his arm gently.
“Sonic,” you said, your voice firm yet kind, “you’re just as important as Tails and Knuckles. You don’t have to have gadgets or a warrior thing to matter. You’re you. And I care about you—just as much as them. You’re family to me.”
He blinked, his eyes wide as if the words caught him off guard. Slowly, a small, genuine smile spread across his face.
“Really?” he asked, his voice tentative but hopeful.
“Really,” you affirmed with a nod. “And families? They don’t pick favorites.”
He grinned then, the kind of grin that made his eyes light up and the room feel just a bit brighter. Without a word, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that was both spontaneous and deeply sincere.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder.
You hugged him back, your hand rubbing small circles on his back. “Anytime, Blue Blur,” you replied, your smile mirroring his.
- “so is there anything in particular you want to see while you’re here?” “I’d love to go to the Library of Alexandria” “Satan, that burnt down.” “What? When?” “Thousands of years ago?”
- Satan gets SO excited whenever he sees a cat on the streets and he insists they go and cuddle every single one (even if they’re on the other side of the road)
- visits many cat cafes and he deems it the best thing ever
- “so MC, what nice things are there to see in your hometown?” “Ooh there’s a really nice church we can visit!” “…you know I can’t go near them right?”
- afternoon tea!
- many picnics in various parks that end in Satan laying down with his head on MC’s thighs while he reads to her
- various trips to different markets where Satan stocks up on his human realm literacy
- super suave dates (I’m thinking Daniel Cleaver style reading poetry from a row boat?? Minus the falling in of course)
- wakes up early every morning so that he can make MC a coffee to have in bed
- many coffee dates in various cafes (quite often they’ll have silent dates where they’re reading their own books and then fill each other in at the end of what happened)
- candlelit dinners together every night
- nights spent by the fire, where their clothes slowly disappear one by one
- “MC I think you should let me buy you a cat so he can look after you while I’m not here.”
- buys lots of tea to take back with him to Devildom
- long walks together, always hand in hand, talking about anything and everything
- Satan plans their future together on the back of a napkin and insists MC keeps it as a reminder of his love for her
Phenix is such a twink. Imagine getting to bounce him on your big strap-on while you hold his arms behind his back. His face is a red mess, flushed and teary eyed while he has liquid from his horns dripping down his hair and cheeks. His eyes are struggling to stay open, and drool drips down his chin. He's been reduced to nothing but a moaning and whimpering mess as his mouth hangs open. His thighs shake with every thrust of your hips as you rock him onto your strap. His dick hits his stomach with every thrust from you, until he eventually spills cum all-over himself while you continue to fuck his little ass.
Biting him, Slapping, pinching, and coloring his delicate skin in red marks, Phenix’s body is covered in them by the time he reaches his fourth ejaculation.
“MC- M-MC- MC, MC MC-” He repeatedly calls out your name like a broken record, going stupid all-over your big purple cock.
He was such a dumb whore for you, petite, brainless and still begging to be fucked. Fucked, filled and “bred” in ways that weren't realistically possible.
“MC, MC- Ple~ase” Phenix chokes out, his high pitched voice rising by an octave as his eyes roll back again. “I wa..nna get bred so bad~~~ ahhh.”
“I want y~out to…breed me...breed me, breed me” he blurts out While nearly choking on his spit. Phenix almost screams when you thrust particularly deep into him, brushing up against his prostate hard.
He ejaculates all-over himself and his sheets for the nth time, his small body spasming as he clung to your arms desperately. “Mmm…MC”
“That's so good… you're making me feel so good”
He wraps his arms around you, brushing his peachy/pink colored bangs out of his face. “I wanna cum again…I want to kiss you…hnn… thinking about you is making me so hard..!~”
He keeps on moaning while you keep on plowing him and milking his prostate.
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In which MC and Sylus like going clubbing every once in a while. But today, you're wearing something he may very much enjoy.
Tags: f!mc x sylus | mature | dating | thigh squeezing | net stockings | touching | kissing | MDNI
Black tight dress. Net stockings. Red lipstick. Exquisite jewelry. A snake shaped bracelet on your bicep. Going clubbing in the N109 zone was actually a lot of fun. It wasn’t your first time, but the excitement had proven to be the same every time you went out with Sylus.
You admire yourself in the mirror. Every piece of jewelry was a gift from Sylus, the snake bracelet being the last addition to your collection.
But the dress… That was all you.
Today’s date was just an excuse to have Sylus gawking over you the whole night. Until any of you couldn’t take it anymore, that is.
You were running a few errands in the N109 zone with Luke and Kieran as your escorts, when you came across this beautiful sliver of onyx cloth, showcased on a mannequin in a questionable looking shop. You asked the boys to look out for any trouble while you ventured inside.
The place was dimly lit, dark furniture and elegant gold decorations contrasting with the shop’s murky exterior. The shopkeeper was an old lady dressed in Victorian clothes, her hair white and silky in an intricate hairdo. She was kinder than you expected, taking your measurements and guiding you to the dresser room before taking the dress off the mannequin for you to try it on. It fitted you like a glove. You would’ve believed it was made for you hadn’t the shopkeeper refused to sell it to you, because it belonged to one of his regular clients. You fought tooth and nails to get it. Eventually, Luke and Kieran had to come in to soothe you both, only then did the lady agree to sell you the dress. You’d imagined it would cost a fortune given the fact that it was a requested outfit, but the lady insisted on giving you a discount.
You agreed, if only because, despite it somehow calling to you, it was very tiny and left little to the imagination.
You add some finishing touches to your lipstick with your fingers and give yourself a once over. The dress was onyx black, swallowing the light and allowing the scarce jewelry to shine brighter under it. The back of the dress was almost non-existent, a short piece of cloth joining both sides over your ass. An intricate chain, shaped like small golden scales, travelled all the way up your spine and branched close to your nape to every shoulder. Every scale seemed to be handmade, with small dents and details. You noticed this only once you’d gotten back home from the shop. It took Luke and Kieran a whole two hours to make you understand that the shopkeeper probably already knew the level of details on this dress. She was the one who had tailored it, after all. They agreed to take you back and thank her again some other time.
So you decided to ask Sylus out. A club night could barely be considered a date, but after fighting wanderers so much, you wanted nothing but to take all the stress and edge off of you. Why the N109 zone, though? Well, it had a lot to do with the fact that Linkon’s nights turned boring in comparison to the clubs here. The music wasn’t louder, but rather… richer. It wasn’t the normal pop mixes bouncing off the speakers, it was bachata and salsa, and sometimes tango. There was pop, obviously, but you both tended to venture to the more skin-on-skin rhythms. Hands roaming, bodies clashing, kisses inevitable.
You shake your head to get rid of Sylus’ phantom touch on your lower back. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, you notice that it was already 9 P.M. “Weird.” You murmur to yourself. Sylus was nowhere to be seen, yet he likes to lean on doors and walls and furniture while watching you put on make up and get ready. He would get so lost in your actions that you would catch him several times touching his lips the same way you smear lipstick on yours.
You put on your heels, slightly regretting the net stockings. They would leave your feet in shambles after a few hours of dancing. Maybe, just maybe, you’d slip out to the bathroom at some point and come back with your legs bare.
Walking down the corridor, you hear Sylus’ faint voice coming out of one of the rooms. He sounds like he’s talking to someone on the phone, so you signal to Luke and Kieran who follow behind you, to let him know you’d wait for him outside in the car. It only takes him a few more minutes, but by the time he’s opening the driver’s door, you’re already comfortably playing on your phone, seatbelt on. Just as Sylus leans down, probably to apologise or tease you on your punctuality, you decide to cross your legs, your dress snaking up your thighs almost revealing everything underneath.
He freezes for a few seconds, eyes taking in every inch of you with a slow heated glance. You watch his hand, the one that’s holding the door, clench tightly. As if in response, your insides clench, too.
That same hand is promptly running through his locks of hair, a low frustrated laugh coming out of him. “Oh, kitten.”
You look at him innocently, tapping your phone on your lips.
He sighs, his frustration more noticeable before speaking again “I’ll have to apologise, but we might have to delay our night a little more.”
It wouldn’t be the first time any of you have to delay or postpone your night because of your respecting jobs, so you have no choice but to heave a deep sigh and uncross your legs.
He sits down on the driver’s seat, giving you another glance from head to toe. “Let's make this quick.”
You can’t help but smile at him. If you really wanted to, he would leave everything and drive straight to the club. Or back to the house, depending on the mood.
As he drives off, he extends his hand to grab yours, as he usually does. This time, though, you’re feeling a little frustrated at his lack of commentary on your attire, so you take his hand and guide it to rest on your thigh.
You watch him from the corner of your eye, as he quickly glances at his hand and licks his lips. With a light squeeze, he leaves it there for the rest of the ride. You rub circles on its back as he starts drawing short, lazy patterns in and out of your stockings. His touch is sweet and reassuring.
After a while, you arrive at a mansion at the edge of the N109 zone. You spy a dozen or more expensive cars parked at the entrance, music and chatter making its way through the door as Sylus opens it for you. He offers you a hand and helps you get out, soon offering his arm for the walk. As long as he deems it secure, he’ll take you to any of his missions as long as you agree.
A butler takes a look at Sylus and me and refrains from asking for invitations, instead, he nods and opens the door to the mansion. The party is elegant, filled with politicians and people I’ve noticed at several of Sylus’ errands and attending banquets. They either nod at him or raise their glasses in salute.
Sylus doesn’t waste any time in pleasantries, and walks straight to a heavy wooden door at the end of a long corridor next to the main hall. The music and voices are muffled here, the tapestries and rugs working as a noise shield. My mind instinctively marks all the exits and windows, my eyes curiously watching the portraits on the wall.
When Sylus takes me with him on undercover missions, I sometimes like to play the role of an air headed, silly girl. It's fun to see how far men are capable of disclosing classified information in front of people they deem useless. I take pleasure in showing my true cards later.
Sylus walks in without knocking, his body positioned casually in front of me in case of an ambush. As soon as he finishes assessing the room, he walks me to the oak desk in the middle of the studio.
I smile sweetly at the old man sitting on the other side, who pays no attention to me and motions for us to sit. A few words are exchanged between Sylus and the old man in a language I cannot understand, probably german. With a sigh, Sylus motions for me to sit before doing so himself. “This won’t take long.” He reassures me, reaching out to squeeze my thigh under the desk. I mask my reaction and watch both men talk, while Sylus’ fingers start playing with the net on my legs, sometimes pulling, others extending his fingers in between the threads.
As the minutes go by, it becomes harder to keep my composure. I start pinching the back of his hands, as I feel it moving dangerously close to the higher point of my inner thighs. He shakes free and gently slaps the place where his hand was before standing up.
I follow suit and as they share a few more words, Sylus motions towards me, the oldman suddenly focusing his attention on his associate's companion.
In very broken English, he speaks, gentler than before “Miss, your face is looking very red. Are you sick”
I quickly cover my cheeks with my hands, Sylus’ touching my forehead. “Indeed, she’s very much hot.” He smirks imperceptibly, the way only someone who knows him would notice it. “I’ll take this chance and drive her to the closest hospital.” He nudges me towards the door and I barely wave at the old man, before softly pushing me out with his hand on the small of my back.
As soon as we’re in the corridor, I playfully smack his hand away. “That was unnecessary.”
He takes my hand and guides it to his mouth, giving it a kiss while holding my gaze. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He pulls me away and we’re back in the car in no time, driving back to the buzzling city. It’s barely awakening.
An hour later, we’re pressed close together, my back glued to his chest and head draped over his shoulder. One of his hands is splayed wide on my abdomen, mine above it, the other holding me firmly by the waist. My other hand is holding him by the nape. I use it to drive his face lower, his lips meeting mine in a rich kiss. The dance floor is filled with people dancing to the beat of this slow song.
He pulls away slightly and I feel the hand on my waist travel downward before going back up, sliding my dress a little higher, the edges grazing the beginning of my ass.
“You know…” he starts speaking and looks down at me. From his point of view and how the dress is covering me, I’m pretty sure he can see my chest. His gaze significantly darkens and my nipples grow hard, poking the cloth over my breasts. “This dress looks crazily similar to the one I had made for you at the shop down XXX street.”
I laugh at his revelation and grind against him, twisting my head and giving him a kiss on the neck.
“Maybe you should take it off and check for yourself.”
