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#yes i looked that up i don't have a tag for her
sanguineterrain · 3 days
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hi sanne!!! my mind has been rotting with assistant!reader x dick, and i literally can’t get it out 😭. i'm in love with your writing and reblog everything! thank you so much, have a great day!!
cute idea! I gave it a little twist ;) hope u enjoy!
dick grayson x gn!assistant!reader. flirting, secret identities, sparring.
****
Bruce Wayne is evasive on a good day and downright invisible on a bad one.
So when you see him down the hallway from his office, attempting to escape without being caught, you nearly trip on your feet trying to catch him.
"Mr. Wayne!"
His shoulders rise with tension. You pity the guy, you really do. Being a gazillionaire is tough.
"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne, Sharon has been hounding me about the charity dinner. Please, if you could just go to this one dinner... you haven't been to an event all month."
And you're getting the brunt of it from all of WE's clients.
Bruce turns, his smile looking more like a grimace. "Hn. Hello. A dinner? I was sure I had a shareholder meeting that day—"
"All month? B, what happened to the two event minimum? That's your rule."
The new voice comes from behind you. Dick Grayson walks down the hallway, wearing jeans that probably cost as much as your monthly rent.
"Mr. Grayson," you say, nodding primly. "How are you?"
You shift the files in your hands as they start to slip. Dick is quick to catch them, balancing the stack.
"We've been through this," he says with a smile. "You know you can call me Dick."
Yes, you've been through this. Every time Dick shows up to Wayne Enterprises, he tells you to call him by his first name. And every time after that, you call him Mr. Grayson.
"Right..." you say, taking back the files. You turn to Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, if you would just consider the dinner..."
Dick gives Bruce a severe look. "B, this is ridiculous. You're such a stickler for rules and yet—"
"Oh, look at the time." Bruce scoots past you and Dick. "I've got that meeting with Lucius. Where does the day go? Please tell Sharon I'll get back to her."
You can't understand how a guy whose biggest exertion is made by playing tennis at the country club can slip through your fingers so fast. He's around the corner before you can blink. You sigh.
"Don't worry," Dick says. "I'll get him to go. And I'll get one of my siblings to tag along to make sure he doesn't duck out early."
You smile briefly. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Grayson."
"Dick. So!" He trails behind you as you make your way back to your office. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"
"Working."
"O-kay..." Dick jogs ahead to hold the door open for you. You push through, trying not to frown. "What about tomorrow night?"
You toss your scarf on the hook. It ends up on the floor. You ignore it.
"Still working."
"How 'bout I ask B to give you the day off then?"
Now it's your turn to give a severe look. "If you're implying that I'd be obligated to go out with you in return for a day off, you've completely misjudged my character, Mr. Grayson."
"Whoa, okay." He holds up his hands. "You're right, that didn't come out right. How about I get him to give you a day off, no strings attached?"
You dump your files and sit at your desk. "That's at your discretion."
"Hey." Dick leans on your desk, puppy eyes at full power. "Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Did I do something that put you off? I'd like you to tell me if I have. I hope the fact that I'm Bruce's son isn't stopping you from being honest."
You put down your pen and look at him. "Look. You seem like a nice guy, and you're handsome with a rich dad to boot. But I'm just not available, okay? You're looking for someone to go to Tahiti with. I respect that. But I'm not that person. I'm just not interested in that."
"You think I'm handsome?"
You sigh and open your laptop.
"Right! Sorry. Not the point." Dick sinks into a crouch next to you. He pulls the oddest poses sometimes, like he's made of rubber bands. "Okay. You're not looking for a trip to Tahiti. Got it. I don't take many vacations anyway. So how about having a friend?"
"And why would you want to be my friend? I'm just some assistant."
"Well, I..." Dick scratches his neck. "I like you. Is that so hard to believe?"
Very. But okay. You can throw him a bone.
"I guess not," you say.
Dick frowns. "You don't believe me."
How does he do that?
"Can I please get back to work?" you ask, only a little worried about being rude. "I'm sorry, I'm just very busy."
His face falls briefly before he stands and nods.
"Of course. No problem. I'll see you around? And I'll get B to go to that dinner."
"Thank you."
You don't notice his lingering looks, or the fact that he picks up your scarf and places it on the hook on his way out.
****
3...17...64.
The safe clicks. You smirk. Easy peasy. The hotshots always use their own birthdays for combinations. Predictable. You bet Bruce Wayne does the same.
It's a blessing that you were able to duck out early today. Bruce gave you the rest of the afternoon off. You suspect that was due to some outside meddling.
You take out the files from D.A. Colson's safe. You always say that if crooked district attorneys don't want their documents stolen, they shouldn't put them where anybody can find them.
...Maybe you were too harsh with Dick. He's sweet, no doubt. It was nice of him to get you off early. But you kind of feel like he'd take issue with the fact that you spend your weeknights breaking and entering.
"You know, cracking safes is already Catwoman's shtick," a voice says behind you. "You might wanna find a new gimmick."
A thrill shoots through you. You toss your head as you turn, leaning against the open safe.
"Catwoman steals diamonds." You hold up the documents. "I just steal files."
"Files from the district attorney," Nightwing says, crossing his arms.
"The dirty district attorney," you correct.
"I'm supposed to let you off on a technicality?" He sounds amused.
Your shrug one shoulder, a little coy. "You could. I hear you're the nice one."
He laughs. Nightwing has a pretty smile. It's the first thing you'd noticed about him.
"Oh, yeah? Anything else you've heard?"
"Plenty. But I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight, Wing. As much as I enjoy our little chats..."
You dart to the window. Nightwing easily blocks your exit.
You're not quite sure what overtakes you when you run into Nightwing. Ignoring the fact that he manages to be the one to chase you almost every time (and what a chase it is), there's a tension between you. Or maybe it's just one-sided on your part. It certainly doesn't help that he's got a nice smile and bouncy hair.
"You know I can't let you go," he says, hands on his hips. "Put it down."
And he's extremely good at what he does.
"Make me," you say.
He never uses his escrima sticks, which you know is a courtesy to you. But that doesn't mean you can't hold your own.
"Alright," Nightwing says, smirking slightly.
He takes three steps, blocks your immediate kick, and takes the documents.
Something swoops in your belly. You kind of get why Catwoman exclusively fights Batman. Once you go bat, you never go back.
"Got them," he says cheerily. "Now what?"
You throw a glass bird tchotchke at him from Colson's desk. He catches it with his free hand, but it's enough of a distraction for you to slide into his legs. Nightwing stumbles less than you would like, but you push him down against the desk.
He grunts as he hits the wood, then rolls you over in the next breath, hands catching your wrists.
"Stealing... makes you no better... than Colson," he says, hair falling over his mask. All of him is pretty, really. It's too bad he's so firmly on the blind side of justice.
"If these documents are released, Colson will win his case and bury his own crimes in the process. Is that what you want? Another crook in court?" you ask.
Nightwing frowns. "You know that's not fair. We can't toss a case for the sake of putting Colson behind bars. And if we pick and choose whose lives to play with, what gives us the right to carry out justice?"
"I dunno, Wing," you say, a little breathless. Nightwing's hips are politely shifted off of yours, chest to yours. "Seeing you go rogue would be kind of exciting."
You can tell he's glaring at you. "Not in your dreams."
"Been in my dreams, have you?"
You gain enough leverage to push Nightwing off of you. He's back on you immediately, trapping you against the wall.
"How is doing something like this not crooked?" he asks.
You scoff. "It's for charity. I'm donating residents to the county jail."
You twist in Nightwing's hold and land a kick. In the three seconds he's distracted, you grab the documents. No sooner do you do that does Nightwing tackle you. The documents slip out of your hand.
"I can do this all night," he says, knee wedged between your legs. "Might as well yield."
"Yield? You're not even playing at your full strength, hotshot."
He smiles. "No, I'm playing nice."
You roll your eyes. "Well, play fair."
And then you jump out of the window.
Your tuck and roll isn't the worst but it's not the best. Especially when Nightwing neatly lands a few feet away without a wince.
"Showoff," you say.
"Give me the documents," he says. "I want to put Colson away, too. But this isn't how to do it. He's still a civilian, and his client's life matters."
You get up and wobble on a loose brick on the edge. Stupid historical buildings.
You're desperate. If he keeps this up, you're bound to land yourself a night in the police station and lose the documents.
So you dust yourself off. And you stop. Right at the edge of the roof.
"Okay," you say.
Nightwing takes a careful step forward. "Okay?"
You toss the documents to him. He catches them in surprise.
"You're surrendering?" he asks.
You shrug. "Like you said: you can do this all night. And I guess there are better ways to catch Colson. More permanent ways."
He tilts his head. "You're not gonna kill him, are you?"
"No! Jesus, man. Ye of little faith."
"I'm just trying to understand why you surrendered."
You sigh. "Because you always win anyway. You're a better fighter than me. And I'm cornered. I just feel like cutting my losses early. You're a lot more convincing than Batman."
"Is that so?"
"Oh, yeah. I much prefer you chasing me."
"Uh-huh." He nods towards the building. "Come on, then."
"Okay, sure."
You take a step. And you fall.
The brick is loose under your foot. It doesn't take much for you to keep going.
Panic surges through you, but that only solidifies your acting.
"Wing!" you cry, toppling over the edge.
"Shit!"
Nightwing lunges and grabs you by your waist, then uses momentum to haul you both to safety. His cheek against yours for a moment, body pressed to yours. It really is a damn shame he's such a Boy Scout.
You knock him in the stomach and snatch the documents, then separate from his grip. You watch his face contort in realization as you land and bolt.
"That wasn't playing nice or fair!" he yells, landing on the opposite side.
You're already gone, laughter echoing.
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grandlinedreams · 17 hours
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|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification
|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye
|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching
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“Where are we going?”
Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.
“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 
She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 
Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.
“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”
“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”
Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 
“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 
Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 
Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.
He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 
There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 
Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”
She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.
“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 
To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 
“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 
Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”
The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”
“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”
Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 
“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”
“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”
The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 
You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 
It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 
The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 
That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.
 
“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 
You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 
It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 
When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”
You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 
“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 
This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.
He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 
Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  
“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 
You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 
Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.
Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 
“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 
Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 
“Take me with you.” 
That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”
“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”
Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 
“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 
He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”
“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 
He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 
Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 
Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.
Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.
Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 
Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 
“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 
His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 
The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 
“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 
“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 
Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 
“Well? Got what you need?"
Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.
And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 
“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”
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franzkafkagf · 3 days
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okay so i want to hear about your take on aegon i know you like him and all (so do i no matter how much i wish not to) but whyy
yess thanks for asking, I love being insane about him<3
I think Aegon is such a wildly tragic character– many asoiaf characters are but I'm so drawn specifically to him; he didn't want power or responsibility or the crown. It all was bestowed upon him against his will, and he shouldn't; putting on the crown is his definitive death sentence. The coronation scene has got to be one of my favorites in the season– he is quite literally walking up to be butchered like a sacrificial lamb, there are tears streaking his cheeks in the scene! I love the tragedy of it, the way it couldn't have been avoided anyways; his fate was sealed from the very start! He was quite literally dead from the very beginning.
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I'm going off a mix from the book and the show but I actually love what they did with the character in the show? The book version does have some hard-hitting moments from him that are missing ("What sort of brother steals his sister's birthright?") but there wasn't that much there in terms of characterization and relationships. And wow, did they deliver on that in the show; I'm gonna give whoever came up with his mommy issues a forehead kiss.
Because YES! He and Alicent are reflections of one another– Alicent suffered under the heavy boot of Otto, turned into the perfect daughter, turned into the perfect queen for him. She recognizes that this was wrong and abusive of him, then she turns around and does the same thing to Aegon– the poison DOES drip through, the wheel is NOT broken!! It's BRILLIANT.
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@atopvisenyashill put a GREAT tag under one of my posts–
#he looks like her and he’s weak like her so why can’t he get strong like her.
While Alicent persevered, Aegon crumbled under the pressure. He is miserable when we meet him– and he should be! He is unfit for the role of king, but it is his destiny nonetheless, everybody tells him so. It destroys him.
It's so sad too and I cannot help but to feel bad for him. No one knows where he is in ep 9, I don't think he has anyone to confide in; it must be lonely. Everybody seems to have written him off already– he is a drunk and a failure at being heir, being a son, being a father. He tries to prove them wrong later, and does in some aspects.
His loneliness plays into another aspect of him that I really love; his desperation to be loved. He will never be enough for anybody, he probably knows it deep down.
"[Aegon is] desperate to be loved but destined to be hated." – Tom Glynn-Carney
Obviously there is the carriage scene with Alicent that shows this. But I also really love the moment in his coronation, where he basks in the people's affection and cheers. He is poised to bleed out in front of the throne, he was crying and fighting for his life not to take the crown just minutes before. But now he's here and they love him and he can't help but love that.
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He takes the crown to protect his family (the show does hint at that with Alicent telling him as much in ep. 6– in the book it's much more explicit with Criston pressuring him on the day of the coronation itself) and then his son DIES because of it! And he drinks and rages and drinks some more; he must've blamed himself. He goes to battle, flies too high (figuratively), and he FALLS; he burns and falls to the ground. He isn't made to be king. He knows. He does it anyways.
"You have already written yourself into legend, you survived dragonfire" – Larys Strong in season 2 (probably)
He survives, he is gone for over a year, unable to do anything but he SURVIVES. He escapes the capital, takes Dragonstone, he falls AGAIN, he loses most of his family; but he still goes on. Fueled by what? Maybe anger, or bitterness or just pure lust for revenge. It doesn't matter. He must've realized somewhere on the way that this was always meant to go this way, ever since he put the conqueror's crown on. It doesn't matter.
And then he dies and it's not grand or spectacular or anything like that. He drinks poisoned wine, nobody even sees him die, they only find him after. It's so uniquely lonely.
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> Rose: Confess to Kanaya!
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Rose: I love you.
Kanaya: Y Yo Ati, Rose.
> Rose: Get swallowed by something that looks like Venom.
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> Rose: Get sent to super hell!
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> Kanaya: Have something very gay and homophobic happen to you.
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Kanaya: ...
What an absolute diversity loss. You find yourself thinking "love loses!"
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fiveredlights · 1 day
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I saw you mentioned you liked kid fic and had bookmarks— do you have any reccs for maxiel kid fics?❤️❤️
do i ever!!!! one thing about me is that i will eat kid fics up, like i think i’ve read about all the tagged kid fics in the maxiel tag. i love seeing what names authors choose for their children and it just makes me happy. here's a couple and if you want more lmk!
listen to the slow parts by @nobrakesdown [T-7.2k]
Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.
a lil you, a lil me, a perfect being by 3_33 (@maxcuntstappen) [G-4.8k]
The three of them stand outside, looking at the entrance, August in the middle, clutching tightly onto Max and Daniel’s hands.
“Okay, I need you both to repeat after me.”
“Daniel, we already did this in the car. Can we please just go in?” Max asks, desperately, which only confirms to Daniel the need to remind all of them of the ground rules.
“Baby, please. We need to remember, okay? We are here to meet some new friends and play with them. It is okay if we don’t meet anybody we like. We can always come again. There is no need for us to be upset. Yeah?”
“Yes, Daddy,” August says and drops his hand to give Daniel a mock salute and Daniel really didn’t know he could love someone so much.
“Max,” Daniel implores, knowing that it is as important that his husband acknowledges the plan as much as their kid.
“Yes, yes, Daniel, okay,” Max rolls his eyes but nods in agreement.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Daniel says. The three of them walk in through the doors.
Or: Daniel and Max visit an animal shelter for their son, August's fourth birthday. Daniel is apprehensive. Max and August are vibrating out of their skin.
That's Where I Am by @flawlessassholes [E-47.8k-6/8]
“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.
There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.
keep me in the open by Aurelia (Lily_Rizzy) (@lilyrizzy) [E-11.7k]
"Chrissy Baker sounds like a cunt,” Daniel says, then cringes at the pointed look his mum shoots him. “What? It’s not like they’re old enough to repeat that yet.”
Grace laughs, the sound audible now over Livia’s cries, which are quickly fading into miserable whimpers. Of course, she behaves for grandma, and not the dad who dotes on her endlessly, feeds her, cuddles her, and wipes her smelly ass.
“Three words, Daniel,” she says, eyebrows raised. “Cash, money, bitches.”
or, Daniel navigates bed times, bath times and jealousy, while Max races his last season in Formula One
summer sun after the rain by gentleau [T-11.7k]
“Papà? Is Max your friend?” “He used to be.”
then you came by beforemidnight [G-4.5k]
Daniel looks at Max swiftly but pointedly. Smiling, he looks back at the camera. “Marrying him was the easiest decision of my life.”
(don't let) the days go by citydreaming (@thewindowatkirkland) [M-11.3k]
“Hey” Daniel says “thanks for coming over.”
“Is now a good time? If you are busy I can come back later.”
“Now is fine, she’s already asleep so we should be able to talk without being interrupted.”
“Talk about how you have a daughter.”
Daniel bites his lip nervously “yeah, about that.”
OR: single dad daniel returns to the grid for one final year with red bull, max doesn’t plan on falling in love with him and his daughter, but somehow it happens anyway.
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screamingcrows · 2 days
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Chase - Dottore x reader
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Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and Settling in. All of this is just stuff that will never make it into my long fic because those guys don't get to have the happiness these two will get. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa in your garden.
Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, she works under him, anger, talk of murder, weapon, angst?
MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI
"Doctor? I need to ask you a question," her voice was a far cry from the usual sharpness.
Dottore laid his pen down before taking in her face. It was uncanny how easily her voice could halt his thoughts. Faint traces of salt lingered along her cheeks, but worse still were her eyes. He motioned for her to continue, unwilling to break the delicate silence.
"Why do you pursue knowledge?"
That caused him to pause. She should know, by all means, it was a fact well known throughout the Fatui. But if she needed to hear, there was no harm repeating himself. It was a quiet day after all.
"As you know, there is a discrepancy between what information we, as inhabitants of this world, are allowed to possess and-"
"That wasn't my question," she hadn't snapped at him like that before.
He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste as he briefly considered reprimanding her. The way her flame had wavered during the last month hadn't been lost on him.
Too many nights she would stay long past what was necessary, his segments conveying that they'd found her collapsed atop her desk, freezing cold and difficult to rouse.
"Pose your question better."
"What drives you? What do you want to see at the end of this? I guess," her words faltered when she finally arrived at the right question. "What do you feel when you achieve a goal?"
"A sense of satisfaction from unraveling a mystery, from solving a problem, accompanied of course by a barrage of new objectives to pursue"
His eyes flickered up to her and he found his hand reaching for the mask, diverting the movement to run his fingers through his hair instead. At the first sound of her quiet sniffles he turned his head away, crossing one leg over the other. Something so foreign and so desperately familiar was taking root.
"I feel.. I feel nothing. Like some pitiful ghost that can't move on. And I hate myself for it. Because it means they were right," her voice grew more frantic along with her sobs.
She'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk, the force of her steps making his pens rattle in their cup. Dottore felt it in his bones.
"I killed all those people, and it felt so good while they clawed out their eyes. So why is it so empty now? I proved myself, proved that I could, my idea worked a-and they're all dead for doubting me!"
Her frantic laughter rang through the room, making his hands tighten around the armrests. There was nothing he would say to console her, knowing there were only two options from here. It was not something to be driven by another's hand.
"It's not fair!"
The worn desk creaked with the force of her fists bearing down upon it. When he looked upon her again tears adorned her cheeks, and for a moment there was an itch to reach out and brush them away. Run a finger along her bottom lip, swollen from how she'd been chewing on it. Like so much else, it never became more than a simple fantasy.
"Did you expect to bury your troubles along with their bodies?"
"I-.. Well, yes. Obviously."
He had to bite back a chuckle, the hesitation in her voice confirmed his suspicion. She did know better than that. Taking a life out of vengeance was one thing, but living with the consequences was an entirely different issue.
With a small sigh, Dottore reached forward towards where she was leaning over the table, head hanging in defeat. He caught the longing in her eyes when she noticed the approaching hand. It was difficult not to wince when the look was replaced with disappointment when his gloved hand pulled a few things back from the edge.
"You knew it wouldn't make me feel any better," venom laced your words, unsurprising but still unpleasant to hear.
"Yes."
At least her crying had ceased, reduced to nothing but faint sniffles while she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice had risen in pitch, the sound uncomfortably invasive.
"You let me work myself to near-death knowing it was for nothing?"
"We now have a terrifying new weapon in our arsenal, and I'm sure you can improve upon it. I'll get one of the segments working on something to more efficiently deliver it, perhaps we should-"
Dottore tilted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the pen she'd thrown at him. For a moment, everything stood still as he awaited her next action. There was nothing but the faint sound of his heel repeatedly hitting the ground. Had he misjudged her?
"You absolute bastard, you.. you.."
It was difficult to remain a spectator when the realization became comically clear in her expression. Oh he hadn't misjudged her at all. She knew. What had transpired was entirely by her own choice.
A small curse passed his lips when she threw a mug onto the floor, porcelain shattering alongside her resolve. There was barely time to stop her when she stormed out of the laboratory. Perhaps a segment could check on her later.
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larluce · 20 hours
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Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU
@dsabian , @theplatanitosqueal , @stressed-but-chill , @gregre369 , @chaosofbelievers , @thelordofabsolutelynothing , @another-tblr-fangirl , @aceauthorcatqueen , tagging you since you liked the other parts ^^
LINK TO THE OTHER PARTS: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5
In Arthur's chambers.
Arthur: (sleeping peacefully)😴
Merlin: (flies above him, chirping and picking at him)
Arthur: (still half-asleep) Hmmm... Merlin, not now (covers himself with the blanket to go back to sleep)
Merlin: (changes to human form and falls on Arthur)
Arthur: (out of breath for a moment and shouts) What the-Merlin! 😠
Merlin: (very excited, jumping in Arthur's lap) It's happening! It's finally hapenning! 😄
Arthur: What is happening? (looks the sun isn't even up through the window) And so early? (rubs his eyes)
Merlin: The eggs! They're hatching! (gets off Arthur and runs to the window where the nest is)
Arthur: (getp up, drowsiness finally gone) What? Really? (runs to the nest too)
Merlin: (points at one egg) Look!
Chick 1: (gets out of his shell all damp with lots of bare, pink skin exposed)
Merlin: ...
Arthur: ...
Merlin: He... he is...
Arthur: Ugly?
Merlin: Was I like this when I was a chick?
Arthur: You are a magical entity, Merlin, you were never a chick.
Merlin: Oh, thank the gods!
Chick 2: (gets out of her shell)
Merlin: (smiles) Oh, this one is a female!😊
Arthur: How can you know so soon?
Merlin: Magical entity.
Arthur: Right. (waits a moment, but nothing happens) How long until the others hatch?
Merlin: It could take the entire day. (holds the eggs and the chicks carefully and puts them in Arthur's hands)
Arthur: (scared as fuck as he holds them) WOW! Wait! What are you doing?! 😨😱
Merlin: You have to keep them warm.
Arthur: (whisper yelling) I can't incubate them! I'm gonna crush them!
Merlin: You don't have to sit on them just hold them close to your body to keep them warm. Meanwhile (stretches his limbs and cracks his knuckles and neck) I'll stretch my wings for a bit. 😊
Arthur: You're leaving me with these little merlins just so you can take a fly?! 😠
Merlin: (suddenly serious) Yes, Arthur, I've been incubating them for a whole month without a single break and now I want to fly for a couple of hours. Is that too much to ask?
Arthur: ...
Merlin: (raises his voice) I said is that too much to ask?
Arthur: No, no, no, not at all. Go ahead.
Merlin: Awww, thank you 😄. I'll be back soon. (changes to bird form and flies away)
Arthur: ...
Arthur: (to the two chicks and the 3 eggs, holding them closely) Your mom is very scary, boys.
Chick 2: (chirps a little)
Arthur: And girl. Right, you're a girl. (walks to the bed very slowly, sits and yawns) There you go. Now I have to stay awake (yawns) until Merlin comes back.
3 hours later. Arthur is asleep again, the chicks and the eggs close to his bare chest.
Chick 1 and 2: (chirp loudly)
Arthur: (half asleep) Shut up, Merlin (about to move, but suddenly remembers) The chicks! (completely awake now, but doesn't dare to move and looks down fearfully, thinking) Please be alive, please be alive.
Chick 3: (comes out of his shell)
Arthur: (sighs in relief and smiles) Only two more left. (holds carefully the chicks and the eggs with his hands and sits slowly) Oh, you're fluffy now. (taps chick 1 and 2 on the head whose plumage now is white and downy) You're still ugly though. (Looks at the eggs closely, worried) Please tell me you made those cracks.
Merlin: (appears and lands on the nest holding a death bird with his beak)
Arthur: Oh, thank the gods you're back! (walks to him and puts the eggs and chicks back to the nest carefully) And you brought food.
Merlin: (sits on the eggs to keep incubating them and starts feeding the chicks)
Arthur: If you needed food you could've just told me. I would've sent my hunters for food.
Merlin: (chirps)
Arthur: But then I wouldn't let you take a fly. Very smart. (Yawns and looks through the window) Servants are going to bring my breakfast soon. You better use that invisible spell of yours before they do (yawns and goes back to bed)
3 days later, all five chicks are now out of their shell and are bigger. To Arthur, they look like fluffy little white balls with very angry faces. He takes turns with Merlin to keep them warm and to hunt for food. Today it was Arthur's turn to feed them while Merlin stretched his wings a bit.
Arthur: (scolds while he feeds the chicks raw meat using a tweezer) No! Don't steal your brother's food! Bad, bad! 😠 (someone knocks his chambers' doors and he hides the nest behind him quickly and demands) Who is it?
Morgana: (from outside) Morgana.
Arthur: (sighs relieved and relaxes) Come in.
Morgana: (enters, singing happily) Where are my favourite nephews! 🤗
Arthur: (blushes) They are not your...! or mine... I'm just helping Merlin look after them.
Morgana: (Looks at the tweezer in Arthur's hand) Is that Gaius' medical tweezer?
Arthur: They wouldn't stop pecking my fingers. Like this they won't take my fingers off when I feed them.
Morgana: (takes the tweezer) Let me help. (Starts feeding the chicks)
Arthur: Oh, not to 1. He already ate a lot.
Morgana: (confused) 1?
Arthur: Yeah, the one with a number 1 in his head.
Morgana: ...
Arthur: You know, because he came out of his shell first. And this one is 2 because she came out se-
Morgana: You named your children after numbers and put numbers on their heads with ink?! 😡
Arthur: They are not my children! 😠. They are not even 'children'! And how else was I supposed to identify them?!
Chicks: (chirp louder)
Morgana: Now you made them cry.
Arthur: They are crying because you are not feeding them. (Takes the tweezer and continues feeding them)
Morgana: I can't believe Merlin let you name them like that.
Arthur: He didn't want to name them at all.
Morgana: (Confused) What?
Arthur: He doesn't want to get too attached to them since they're gonna leave as soon as they learn how to fly. (Sighs, feeling guilty) And I guess he's afraid of getting attached again to any merlin since...
Morgana: Since you killed Claws?
Arthur: (looks at the window, frantic, and then back to Morgana) Shut up! Merlin could be back at any moment!
Morgana: Didn't it occurred to you that maybe Merlin doesn't want to get attached to them because he knows you don't want to get attached to them?
Arthur: What?
Morgana: He adopted those chicks, Arthur. For you they may be just birds but for Merlin they are more than that. How do you think a single parent feels when their current partner doesn't accept their children?
Arthur: I... didn't think of it that way.
Morgana: So you realize that if you want to be with Merlin you'll have to be their parent too, right?
Arthur: I guess... (looks at the chicks) Fuck.
Morgana: You despise the idea that much?
Arthur: Is not that. It's just... I'm barely 18! I didn't expect to be a father so soon. And I expected my children to be, you know, human.
Morgana: You also expected your one true love to be a beautiful princess and here we are. (sighs) So? Do you still want to be with Merlin?
Arthur: ...
Time skip. Merlin with Arthur in his chamabers.
Merlin: (in his human form, after trying a spell on the nest) I did it! (jumps happily)
Arthur: (gets closer, curious) What did you do?
Merlin: Oh, I improved the invisible spell on the nest, now no one who isn't us or Morgana can see the chicks while they are there.
Arthur: That's great!
Merlin: Yeah, I don't have to make the spell constantly anymore and you won't get caught by your father. They are even save from other raptors now. It took me a while to get it right. (his smile gets sad)
Arthur: (concerned) What is it?
Merlin: Nothing, it's just... They... they don't need incubation anymore, but I... I still want to embrace them. But I can't, there's no need anymore.
Arthur: Merlin-
Merlin: (his eyes tearing) I know I'm not supposed to love them, I'm not really his dad or anything. I'm not even a real falcon.
Arthur: Merlin-
Merlin: And I know you didn't want them here in the first place, but-
Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!
Merlin: (startles)
Arthur: (extends his hand to Merlin and says softly, smiling) Would you dance with me?
Merlin: (blushes, confused) Wha... what? 😳
Arthur: Would you give me the honor to share a flying dance with me?
Merlin: I... (still very red and confused) but you... you don't have-
Arthur: Humans can also dance, you know? It's true I have no wings, but I can make you fly if you let me.
Merlin: (smiles widely, eyes watering) I'd love to.
And they dance. Arthur discovers that, while Merlin is very agil with his bird wings, he's very clumsy with his human legs, but he lets himself be guided by Arthur all the time. There are stomps, there are laughs, but they soon find a comfortable pace and Merlin ends up with his arms around Arthur's neck, and Arthur with his hands on Merlin's hips, dancing slowly at the rhythm of the music of their hearts.
Merlin: (still dancing with Arthur, confused) Are we supposed to mate now?
Arthur: (laughs softly) There's no rush for that. But I want you to be my partner. My mate if you want to call it that way. I love you, Merlin, and I want to be with you and have a family with you.
Merlin: Oh... (gets a little sad) But we're both male, we can't... (opens his eyes wide) Or can we? 😲
Arthur: No, two males can't.. procreate, but we don't need to worry about that. (Points at the nest with his head) We already have a family together.
Merlin: (Gets so happy he might cry and kisses Arthur on the lips in a fit of joy)
Arthur: (In shock for a moment, but soon kisses back and they kiss for a long time)
Merlin: (separates the kiss, but keeps their faces close, catching his breath) Did I... Did I do it correctly? I saw some humans do that with their mates.
Arthur: (smiles wide) You did it wonderfully.
Merlin: Arthur?
Arthur: Yeah?
Merlin: I think I love you romantically.
...
Just so you know, this is how the chicks look:
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alackofghosts · 2 days
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got tagged by tumblr user @fourteenthz (loved reading about thesa, by the way <3)! thank you very much!
— B A S I C S
name: lil guy i'm very shy, don't worry about it
nicknames: none based on his name, as it's quite short already, but will also respond to a fond and/or slightly exasperated "hero"
age: 33 as of 6.55
nameday: 27th sun of the 4th umbral moon
race: rava viera
gender: cis man
orientation: gay
profession: adventurer
— P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T
hair: black, naturally wavy, very thick and soft
eyes: dark brown
skin: warm brown, freckles easily, especially his face
tattoos: none
scars: burn scar on his left shoulder from his fight with ifrit, another burn on his right thigh from nidhogg. a few other scrapes here and there. notable lack of any significant scarring from shb and beyond, because that's how i see astrologian healing working - he feels particularly strange about not having a scar from his fight with zenos in endwalker
— F A M I L Y
parents: he has not been back to his home village, for obvious reasons, so doesn't know - but assumes - his mother is still alive and well; never met his biological dad. but because he showed signs of. however the viera would call/conceptualise the inner beast, one of the women called in a favour with a wood warder who was also a warrior, to take him under his wing to train. said wood warder, however, was wholly at a loss what to do with a child, having never taken in a ward before and decided to seek out an old friend, who had since left the forest. ...long story short, he ends up being raised by an all-viera dalmascan resistance cell, who end up packing up and leaving with him in tow after almost being rooted out by garlean forces. he views most of them as Parental Figures and loves them dearly, even if some of them have scattered into the winds after he left to become an adventurer
siblings: he isn't aware of any biological siblings, but the village took a very communal approach to raising kids, so at the time he definitely felt like the other kids were his siblings, regardless of any blood relations. one of the men in the resistance cell was a 'mere' 30 or so years older than him, so he also counts more as a sibling than anything else in his eyes
grandparents: he has definitely met his maternal grandmother, but as with his mother, he's not been back home and doesn't know if she is still alive (but in all likelihood: yes)
in laws and other: THE TWINS. putting an exact name to what alisaie and alphinaud mean to him would honestly not be Good or Close Enough, but they are absolutely like family to him and a reason to keep on going. he also has a very sibling-like relationship with lyse, who is always ready and willing to match his energy, tag along for workouts and tease the hell out of him
pets: he befriends an amaro hatchling at the crystarium during shadowbringers and during a later visit, her handler notes that she's been looking glum without him around. he loves animals, but his living situation has been far too chaotic after becoming an adventurer to accommodate an animal (that isn't his chocobo, who, at least, is much easier to house) and hasn't felt particularly inclined to change that. but after endwalker, he finds himself actually wanting to change that and has the time to do it... so, with a little bit of help from feo ul, he has a little amaro friend with him now
— S K I L L S
abilities: war + drk + pld and all that that entails. skilled and formidable fighter, good at navigating/strategising through a fight on the fly, quick study (as far as fighting is concerned, anyway)
hobbies: working out (especially running and swimming), hiking, he's been learning to enjoy fishing after endwalker
— T R A I T S
most positive traits: protective, caring, insatiable lust for life
most negative traits: too willing to let other people do the talking for him, impulsive, stubborn
— L I K E S
colours: warm red, gold, the bright green of sunlight filtering through leaves
smells: fresh earth, cinnamon, a meadow in early summer, the savoury smell of the stew one of his dads used to make
textures: soft grass under bare feet, tree bark, skin on skin, the scratch of ardbert's beard
drinks: water, pineapple juice, lemonade
— O T H E R    D E T A I L S
smokes: no
drinks: only socially, and even then it's fairly rare. he did drink a little more often as a baby adventurer, mostly because he simply had more opportunities to do so: mingling was useful and it wasn't uncommon to have a rowdy bar night to celebrate a job well done. he is a bit of a lightweight and tends to withdraw when tipsy/drunk, so he actually has more fun when sober
drugs: also no (unless we're counting medicine for this. he won't be refusing painkillers if he's in pain etc.)
mount issuance: his beloved chocobo, who he dotes on very much, especially because it was something of a dream to have when he was just a baby adventurer - he could not have afforded to buy or maintain one at the time
been arrested: he's got in trouble for those rowdy bar nights - he's not the type to start a fight, but if someone were to pick a fight with him or his friends, by gods, he will be finishing it. no serious jail time, more like being hauled off with everyone else involved to sober up until morning, though
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angelltheninth · 1 hour
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Valentino x reader, Im obsessed with his wings but imagine him being possessive and wrapping his wings around his girlfriend as she cockwarms him while he directs a video so others can hear her struggling to hold in her moans but can’t see them
This scratched some special itch in my brain.
Pairing: Valentino x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut. cockwarming, moaning, public sex, teasing, dirty talk, name-calling, possessiveness, biting
Word count: 0.4k
A/N: I can't fix him, no one can, but a lot of people wanna ride him.
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This was technically still work for you. It was work in public, on set but still work. It wasn't the first time you did anything with Valentino in front of others while at the Studio. But this time you were supposed to keep it quiet because he too was working still.
"If you can't handle five cocks at once then what the FUCK am I paying you for?!" Valentino barked out in frustration at the current star. His cock twitched inside you, which made you bite your cheek. You couldn't disrupt the production.
You were only there to ease his frustration, which only seemed to be building rather than going away. His palms ran impatiently over your legs, spreading them more but still keeping your body hidden from view with his wings.
"You ain't doing your job either. Unlike her you only have the one. You do such a good job on set, why can't you do the same for me now?" He bit your neck lightly, the prickling of his teeth making your pussy quiver and drip on his cock. "That's better. If only everyone could be a good slut like you."
"Thank you for your compliment, Val, sir." His praise was as heart fluttering as his insults.
His long fingers slid across your pussy, pressing against what little of his cock you couldn't fit in. Up to your clit where they stayed, teasing, rubbing and pinching, each motion making your hips jerk upwards and grind back down.
"Keep your voice down. Everyone here already knows what a good cockwhore you are for me, you don't need to vocalize it." You loved when you couldn't tell if he was insulting or parsing you, it didn't matter either, not when his cock was hitting you so deep, so perfect and just for you. "You're not listening again. Look around, you're gonna make everyone come if you don't quiet down." Your eyes fluttered around, catching the eyes of a few demons, some with erections, some rubbing their thighs together, some with wide drooling, grins, some with their hand moving in their pants. "I know you enjoy the spotlight but you're not the current star of this show. They are." Valentino turned your head back to the demon being fucked on set. Your eyes met briefly before you heard them come. "It's their job to take care of others. The only cock you need to pay attention to is mine."
"Yes, Val, I only... need you to make me feel good." You braced yourself against him as you felt him empty his cum up into your womb, your head spinning with orgasmic pleasure that you had to keep to yourself.
"Good girl." Valentino nuzzled against the side of your head. "What are you jerkoffs looking at? Back. To. Work." He clapped his hands against your thighs as everyone got back into place for another round of filming.
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shadow1515 · 14 hours
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Too Sweet
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Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)
You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 
Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.
Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.
You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 
One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 
Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 
Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.
“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?
You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 
“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”
The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 
You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?
The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 
“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.
At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”
Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?
“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.
The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”
You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 
Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.
“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”
“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 
You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 
The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”
“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”
A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.
Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 
The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 
At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 
Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 
A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”
His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 
“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 
The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 
“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”
His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 
You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.
Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 
Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.
You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.
“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”
You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.
“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.
The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.
“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 
His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 
The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”
So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 
“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 
“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”
The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 
In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 
The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 
You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–
A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 
“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 
“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?
Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 
“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 
He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.
The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”
Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”
Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 
It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 
“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 
You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 
You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”
The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.
Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.
“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”
His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 
The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”
Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 
27 notes · View notes
oddballwriter · 17 hours
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The Baby Dream
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Summary: You tend to have "the baby dream" every once in a while, but you never really mentioned it to your boyfriend Marc let alone had a conversation about having a baby with him in general. You tell him about the one you just had this time.
Warnings: not really anything real to warn about other than the reader's character feels a little sad when they find out that their baby was only something in their dream. Implied afab reader and implied that they breastfeed their baby. 
Author’s Snip: I have a mix of baby fever and recently had a baby dream of my own so I decided to use that as a prompt.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 618
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Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (you too can join my tag list, just ask)
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The sound of a small soft grunt and whine wakes you right up. The morning sun breaches through the bedroom curtains and gives the room a soft lighting that makes the room visible without burning your still sleepy eyes. You look around for a bit, finding Marc still asleep and snoring softly. You sit up in bed and find the source of the noise, seeing a crib in the corner of the room along the wall.
Oh, looks like Mel's awake. Who's Mel? You and Marc's baby daughter of course!
You get up, careful not to wake Marc since he dealt with her waking up and crying in the middle of the night. Walking over to her crib, you look down and see her look back at you with her cute little eyes. They look just like the boys', all big and doe-like.
You scoop her up and out of her crib and cradle her in your arms. You feel her weight in your arms along with her squirming slightly to get comfortable.
"Good morning," you softly coo, "How'd you sleep? Huh?" you ask her. Of course, she can't answer, but judging that she didn't wake up crying like she usually does when she's had trouble sleeping, she slept just fine. Mel's tiny hands grip your pajama shirt. "I see we want breakfast now," you comment in response to her grabbing.
You walk back to the bed so that you can be comfortable while you feed her, but when you're supposed feel yourself sit, you wake up.
The room looks just the same, say for the fact that Marc is in the act of getting up out of bed this time. "Oh shit, sorry, hun. Did I wake you up?" Marc asks. You shake your head and carefully sit up and look towards the corner where Mel's crib was, but there's nothing there. No crib or baby...
Right. You don't have a baby together. It was just another baby dream that you have occasionally. You feel a bit of weight in your chest at the fact that you and Marc's baby girl wasn't real. Even though she only existed in your dream for a moment it felt so real. Like you actually had her and took care of her.
You realize that you're starting to tear up and shake off the feeling. "Sorry, I just had a dream," you explain. "Do you want to talk about it?" Marc gently asks. You take a moment and then a breath. "We had a baby," you say, "That was it. We had a baby together and I woke up to her waking up and I held her for a bit before I actually woke up." you explain further. "It's a normal thing. I have dreams where I have a baby from time to time." you mention.
Marc just look at you for a second. You look towards him to see what has him so quiet. He has that look on his face when he's thinking about something and trying to choose his words. You let him do his thinking before he finally speaks. "Do... you want a baby?" he asks.
"Yes?" you say, unsure yourself. "I don't know. It's sort of a hormone thing, like baby fever," you say. "We've never really had that talk before, I know. So I don't know if you want to have kids," you mention. "Okay, but do you want to have kids someday?" Marc rephrases his question. "Yeah. I'd like to have a family with you someday when we're ready." you answer.
Marc nods. "Yeah..." he says, "I think that would be a good conversation to have sometime soon." he adds with a slight smile.
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tomssexdoll · 1 day
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hi can i request where the reader is a famous singer and when she gets interviewed they ask her who her crush is and it’s Tom and she performs a song for him (SOAKED BY SHY SMITH 😉😉) and he sees it 😣😣 it can end with them meeting and it ends with smut or fluff you choose 🤍🤍
yess
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"So Y/N, we're curious to know, do you have any crushes" the interviewer asked.
I chuckled nervously, adjusting my dress. "Yeah, I do infact have a crush, his name is Tom Kaulitz, the guitarist for Tokio Hotel" I smiled, feeling my cheeks burn up a bit.
"Ohhh, is there anything you'd like to say to him Y/N?" "I'd actually like to perform a song for him, if you don't mind" I winked, the interviewer nodded and announced the ad break.
The crew came on stage, setting up everything for me.
As the ad break came and went the camera panned to me, the music started to play.
"Cause baby you got me so, so soaked, the heat is getting to me. I want you all over me, baby you got me so" I sang, staring directly into the camera incase he was watching.
"Our bodies moving for sure, you get me so hot im soaked" I continued to sing. As the song finished and the music faded everyone started to clap, cheers roaring from the crowd.
TOMS POV:
I got tagged multiple times on twitter, I clicked on the videos and it was an interview, an artist I had never heard of, y/n l/n. I watched as she sang the song for me, my jaw dropping and eyes widening, she had a beautiful voice but the lyrics were so dirty.
I smirked and knew I had to meet with her.
Y/NS pov:
My phone pinged, a notification from twitter?
I opened it and saw THE Tom kaulitz had texted me, I gasped and instantly opened the message, it read.
"Hey gorgeous, I saw your little song on that interview, thanks to people tagging me in it. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up and maybe get to know each other"
I instantly started typing, my fingers tapping at the keyboard on my phone quickly.
"Yes that sounds great! Let's meet at that cafe on main street tomorrow at 4pm"
We agreed to everything and I squealed, I knew it was a good idea to do the song. His and my fans are crazy so of course they would be clipping it and tagging him.
Whether it was negative or positive I was glad I finally got his attention.
The day came for our meet up and I wore the sexiest dress I owned, I did my makeup and hair. I pushed my bra up a little, my cleavage very visable in my dress.
"Fuck..I look good" I blew a kiss at myself in the mirror and got into my car, driving to the place we agreed on. I was super nervous, yes I liked him a lot but I never expected this, my heart raced as I approached the cafe.
I saw him sitting there, waiting for me. His dreads flowing softly in the wind, wearing a casual baggy outfit. "Shit..did i dress up too much" I looked down at my dress and shrugged.
I got out of the car, acting casual and making sure he could see me. My hair flowing in the wind as I walked across the road, hips swaying.
As I got to the other side of the street I saw his jaw hang low, I obviously had some sort of effect on him. He stood up and and smiled brightly, "heyy, it's so nice to finally meet you" he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around my waist, hands dangerously close to my ass.
I returned the hug and giggled, "likewise" I sat down and ordered a simple sandwhich and coffee. "Soo, y/n, you look really beautiful today, is it all for me?" he smirked, teasing me.
I blushed a little "y-yeah, I guess so" I stammered on my words, super nervous in his presence. He nodded, a satified grin on his face. He sat back and continued to talk with me, we had so much chemistry, able to talk for hours.
A few hours passed and I checked my watch, eyes widening at the time. We met up at 10am and it was now 5pm. The waiter came out and told us the cafe was now closed and we had to make our way out so they could clean, we payed and thanked them, wondering what we should do now.
"Do you wanna come back to my place and talk more?" He suggested, wrapping his arm around my waist and holding me close. I bit my lip and nodded, walking to each others cars and getting in. I followed him, his car a bit faster then mine.
As we arrived I stared in awe, a beautiful, huge house with amazing decor on the outside. He came to my car and opened the door for me, taking my hand and walking me inside.
"Your home is beautiful Tom" I smiled, taking my shoes off and placing my purse on his kitchen counter. He chuckled, "thanks liebe, let's go to my room" he smirked, I raised an eyebrow and followed him.
I sat down on his bed, he sat next to me and caressed my cheek softly "you are so beautiful.." he whispered, kissing my neck softly. I grinned and climbed into his lap and pressed my lips into his, kissing him passionately.
His hand slid down to my ass, grabbing it tightly. I yelped softly at the sudden contact, granting tom access to put his tongue in my mouth. He runned his hands up and down my curves, tracing them with his fingers, sending shivers down my spine.
"Holy fuck.." he muttered against my lips, moving his hand up to my breast, cupping it gently. His hands were huge and covered my whole boob. I softly pushed him down and softly grinded on his erection.
He groaned and grabbed my ass cheeks, pushing me down onto his erection more, I moaned as his clothed cock hit my clit, my legs trembling slightly.
"Get on your hands and knees baby.." he growled lowly, I obliged and got off him, getting onto my hands and knees on the bed, waiting for him.
He rolled over and I felt the bed dip behind me, his hands coming to my hips and pulling me closer. He pressed himself against me, "you ready?" he grunted, "yes..please fuck me.." I winced.
He nodded and pulled my dress up to my waist, taking my panties off and dipping his fingers into my soaking pussy. "Fuck.." he pulled them out and licked his fingers clean, "taste so good" he chuckled and took his pants off, his erection springing out.
I bit my lip and waited nervously for him, feeling his tip at my entrance, slowly push in. "Ohh fuck!" I moaned, feeling him stretch me out slowly.
"So good.." he groaned, bottoming himself out in me. He retracted himself out of me and slammed back into me. Creating a harsh pace.
"Holy fuck!" I whimpered, feeling his tip ramming into my g spot brutally, leaving no mercy. "Take it schatz, take it all" he growled lowly, his hands tangling in my hair and pulling it back so that our bodies were connected.
He held my stomach, holding me up to his chest and pounded into me, my boobs bouncing up and down like crazy from how fast he was going. I felt his lips connect with my neck, sucking roughly and leaving marks everywhere.
I felt my stomach twist in a knot, signalling my impending orgasm. My pussy clenched around Toms cock tightly, like a snake wrapping itself around someones leg.
With one last brutal thrust I came, my orgasm crashing down and cum spilling all over his cock. He groaned and kept thrusting, shortly coming to his own orgasm too.
Shooting his cum into me, painting my insides white. "Oh fuckk..." he panted out, collapsing onto the bed, i layed beside him and felt his arms wrap tightly around me, pulling me closer.
E/N: kinda rushed but i hope u like it <3
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Tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @estxkios @syylss @ballhair @ge-billsgf @charliesgoodboy
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hello, congrats on one mil!! you mentioned (very) off handedly in the tags a long time ago that an au where renji was byakuya's sibling would be difficult because renji would want hugs and Kuchiki Do Not Hug. ever since ive been wondering: what exactly would it take for byakuya to give renji a hug? this is my prompt to you. any and all external influences are permissible but it has to be a real, proper hug. no side hugs allowed. bonus (infinite) points for rukia being somewhere in the mix.
I thought about this for 20 minutes and then just yes, and...'d my way through the rest of this. It was very fun! Hopefully someone else finds this half as funny as I did.
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❄️ ☃️ ❄️
"Hitsugaya here."
"Hello, Captain Hitsugaya, it is Captain Kuchiki."
"..."
"I am calling from Lieutenant Abarai's phone."
"Of course you are. What's up?"
"I have a question. What is the standard treatment for hypothermia?"
"...why are you asking?"
"When a person dives into very cold water, say, if they were chasing a semi-aquatic Hollow into a lake and the air temperature is below--"
"Kuchiki, how do you have Abarai's phone if he just jumped into a lake after a semi-aquatic Hollow?"
"Because he threw it at me and yelled 'call Rukia and ask her how to treat hypothermia, I'm sure she knows.'"
"But you didn't call Rukia."
"I did not. I would prefer if she did not find out that I let Abarai jump into a frozen lake. I did not mean to. He is very quick and also a bad listener. Hmm. The water is turning very red. Hollows do not usually have red blood. It would probably be a bad idea to jump in after him, don't you think? Then, we would both have hypothermia."
"Where are the two of you?"
"The thirty-first district of North Rukongai."
"Okay, that's too far away. (yes, it's your brother. no, everything is not fine. no, i think it's better if you let me talk to him.)"
"Is my sister there?"
"Yes, your sister is here."
"What are you doing with my sister, Hitsugaya Toushirou? She already has an official, family-approved suitor!"
"Does she, Kuchiki? Or does she have an official, family-approved popsicle? (no! no, stop grabbing! Matsumoto, some help please!)"
"Forget what I said earlier, he is coming out of the lake now. (Abarai! What is the limb situation? Ah, excellent, well done!) He even has all of his limbs. He does look rather pale and is shaking a lot, so perhaps we should get back to the hypothermia question."
"To be honest, I don't know that much about it. Usually I'm trying to freeze people to death. I only know what they teach in the decadal first aid refresher. Maybe you shouldn't have done that sleeping-with-your-eyes-open thing the last time we had--"
"Captain Hitsugaya, perhaps we could save the recriminations for later. Abarai is dying."
"Fine. I'm giving the phone to Rukia, who is here to work on her bankai, the same as every Tuesday afternoon. Kuchiki, tell your brother how to fix the hypothermia he gave your boyfriend."
"Brother!"
"Hello, Rukia! I would like to clarify, I did not 'give' Abarai hypothermia. He is very difficult to--"
"Stop talking, I know how he is. I am not holding you responsible. I only heard half the conversation, is he wet?"
"He dove into a lake, so yes."
"Okay, your first priority should be to dry him off."
"(Abarai, Rukia says you need to dry off. Yes, I know I have told you not to do that. Go ahead and do it. Just try not to get me--ugh! I told you not to--!")
"Is he trying to dry off by shaking himself like a dog? Don't let him do that!"
"It is surprisingly effective."
"It could also cause him to go into cardiac arrest so please don't let him do that!"
"(Abarai, Rukia says your heart will stop working if you do that. Yes, it sounds fake to me, too. I am just the messenger.)"
"I would hang up on you, except that then Renji would definitely die. Look, is there shelter nearby? Somewhere you can get him inside?"
"No. Can I just pick him up and flash step him back to town?"
"No, that would also cause his heart to stop. (Captain Hitsugaya, can we send a message down to-- oh, you already have? Oh, great, thank you!) Captain Hitsugaya has already called the Fourth. They're sending a medic to you, but it'll probably be at least an hour. In the meantime, you need get him dry and start to warm him up. Do you have any spare clothes?"
"Why would we have spare clothes?"
"I don't know! Sometimes people carry spare capes! They come in handy! Can you give him your haori?"
"Of course not, he hasn't passed the Captains' Examination."
"Okay, well, make him take his wet clothes off, and you figure out which parts of your outfit you can spare. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."
"Oh, I see. Hmm. Wait, Rukia. Before I disrobe, I read a book once, where someone was in a cold climate and they were freezing to death, and they killed a bear--"
"Do not put Renji inside the dead Hollow, Byakuya. I mean it."
"Hollows disintegrate when they die, Rukia, and even if they didn't, he left it at the bottom of the lake. (You did kill it, right? All right, good.) Ahem. I was just thinking that I could find a bear--"
"You do not have time to find and kill a bear, Brother."
"Hmm. Very well. (Abarai, take off your pants. Rukia says so.)"
(various mumbling and other noises)
"All right. I have returned. Abarai is wrapped up in both our cloaks."
"Wait, you had a cloak this whole time?"
"Of course I had a cloak. We went to the mountains of North Rukongai. Of course we dressed appropriately. Abarai even had the presence of mind to remove his before jumping in the lake. (Yes, I know it was so you could swim better. Do you wish to take this phone call?)"
"You could have--you know what? Never mind. Okay, do you have any field rations with you? Getting some warm food or liquid in him would be very helpful. Even if you can just warm some water with kidou and give it to him, that would be good."
"We did not bring any provisions. We were only supposed to come out here for an afternoon and we did not expect to have to leave town. (No, Abarai, I do not think you should drink that lake water. Well, a Hollow died in it, for one thing.)"
"Brother, do me a favor. Go touch his skin and tell me what it feels like."
"His skin?"
"Yes, I want to know if it's cold."
"Does it matter where?"
"Not really, I guess."
"(Abarai, stick your arm out of the cloak. Look, this is very unpleasant for both of us!) I am touching his arm. I would say it is approximately 30C."
"How can you-- never mind. I don't want to know. Is he shivering? Are his teeth chattering?"
"Less so than before, on both counts. That is good, right? That means he is warming up?"
"No, it means his body is shutting down. Is he still talking to you? Is he lucid?"
"He is still talking, a thing that I assume he would keep doing even after all other vital signs have ceased. I will check the state of his reason. (Abarai, who was the captain of Sixth Squadron during the Hellish Dangai Incursion of 892? No, it's not a trick question. All right, it's a little bit of a trick question…That's a really questionable interpretation of events, Abarai. No, I do not think there are any historians that would agree with you.) Rukia, I will be honest. He is not at his best."
"If he's talking and making sense, that's…something at least. But he's not in good shape and you've got to do something to help him warm up until the medic gets there."
"'Sense' is really debatable, Rukia."
"I think you're going to have to do the kaidou, Brother."
"My understanding is that the body temperature stabilization kidou should only be performed in a sheltered location by a trained Squad 4 medic."
"Yeah, that's the clinical one, and you are correct. You need to do the emergency one. It's not as good generally, but it's less tricky. It should help, though! Zabimaru runs hot, so if you can just give them a jumpstart, Renji will probably stabilize by himself."
"(Oh, is that so?) Abarai says you cast this on him 'all the time.' Why didn't you bring this up earlier? And why are you freezing my lieutenant 'all the time'?"
"He likes it. And I assumed you would refuse!"
"Why would I refuse? Which kaidou is it again?"
"Did you really sleep through the decadal first aid refresher? It's number 17!"
"Number 17…that's the one where…oh."
"Can you do it, Brother?"
"..."
"Brother?"
"When you say you do this to him 'all the time', is it because you are truly giving him hypothermia constantly, or is it just a ploy to…you know?"
"..."
"Rukia?"
"Must it be one or the other, Brother?!"
"Well, I was just wondering if the full body contact was truly compulsory, or if maybe I could just…do it from a respectful distance."
"You have to hug him, Brother."
"..."
"It's not so bad, Brother! You nearly cut off an arm and a leg to save me once!"
"...what if I were to sit next to him, so that our sides were touching? I…I could probably even put my arm around him."
"A side-hug is not going to cut it! The whole trick of the thing is getting your saketsu and hakusui close enough to his! You can hug him from behind, if that makes things better."
"I think that might actually be worse, Rukia."
"You're just going to have to hug him normally, then. Renji gives very good hugs! I tell you it won't be so bad! Just do it!"
"I am only doing this for you, Rukia."
"I appreciate it, Brother."
"(All right, Abarai. Brace yourself. As unpleasant as it is, I am going to have to--no, I will not 'bring it in!' Why must you make this worse than it already is?)"
(unintelligible)
"Brother? Brother, are you still there?"
"I am still here. I am doing it. I am hugging him. This is terrible."
"Are you doing the kaidou?"
"...right. The kaidou. I am now doing the kaidou. Ahem."
"Hi, Rukia, can you hear me? He's got the phone kinda close to my face and I can hear you!"
"Renji, is that you?!"
"It's me! He's hugging me, Rukia! This is so weird!"
"We can memory wipe both of you later, probably."
"No, I mean, he's really bad at it! This is the worst hug I have ever gotten!"
"Shut up, Abarai."
"I think you need to relax a little, Captain. Loosen up those arms."
"I do not want pointers, Abarai."
"Well, I'm having--a little trouble--breathing."
"Oh. I see. Yes, sorry."
"Not to interrupt all the fun you two are having, but does it seem to be working?"
"I have no idea. Abarai, is it working?"
"It's pretty different than when you do it, Rukia, but I think it is. Can I have a real hug when I get home?"
"You can have as many hugs as you want when you get home."
"Ahem."
"I am trying to keep him thinking positive, Brother! You can also have as many hugs as you want when you get home! It sounds like you need some practice."
"..."
"Or if you'd rather just have a stiff drink, I'm sure that can also be arranged."
"As you say, Rukia: why not both?"
"Sounds good to me, Brother!"
~end
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illarian-rambling · 2 days
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Thanks for the tag @phoenixradiant!
OC Interview
I've been seeing people do two characters at once, so I'll do Sepo and Izjik as a pair :)
.
Are you named after anyone?
Izjik: "My name is a common one where I'm from, but I don't think I was named after anyone specific, no."
Sepo: "If I was, my mother croaked before she could tell me."
When was the last time you cried?
Izjik: "I dropped a bag of hammers on my foot at work the other day and spirits, they probably heard be about ten miles over!"
Sepo: "I don't cry."
Izjik: "Yes the fuck you do? Broody bastard. I saw you tearing up when we went and saw that new band. You cried last time you had to deal with the bounty guild because the guild leader makes you so damn angry. I know for a fact you get weepy every time you get so much as three drinks in you."
Sepo: "...no comment. Bitch."
Do you have kids?
Sepo: "You'd fucking think we do looking after Twenari. And she's not even half the trouble Djek is - and he's a grown-ass man."
Izjik: "Cut him some slack, he's like nineteen. But yeah, two kids pretty much. I've even been to a PTA meeting! That makes me certified parental material!"
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Sepo: "Nooo, never..."
Izjik: "Low hanging fruit, my guy. I'm usually not sarcastic, though - it's not my style."
What is the first thing you notice about people?
Izjik: "If they're going to try to kill and eat me."
Sepo: "Ditto. Then I move on to what makes them annoying."
Izjik: "You're so negative, you know that? My second impression is their hands. You can tell a lot about a person based on their hands."
What is your eye color?
Izjik: "Kind of a blue gray? Slate, Twenari calls it."
Sepo: "Sirens all have eyes of black."
Izjik: "And a good thing to, given how stupid big your pupils are."
Sepo: "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Izjik: "If you had blue eyes, you'd look kinda silly is what I mean."
Scary movies or happy endings?
Sepo: "Scary, though it takes a lot to phase me."
Izjik: "Bullshit, you jump every time the camera angle changes. I like scary too, but with happy endings. Things can get bad, yeah, but it's always good to see folks making it out in the end."
Any special talents?
Izjik: "I can do a one-handed pushup!"
Sepo: "That's because one of your hands hardly works."
Izjik: "You're just a hater because you can't do one. That can be your special talent - being a hater."
Sepo: "Yes, fine, let's brush over my musical composition abilities and skills in veterinary medicine. My true special talent is being a hater."
Izjik: "Damn straight."
Where were you born?
Izjik: "The enclave of Edeme’eneha, deep in the N'Diki swamp. I think it was a lovely place to grow up, all in all. I really miss it sometimes."
Sepo: "I was born in a brothel basement in the Ulahdrian capital city of Seluthena, the largest metropolis beneath the waves. I... I also miss it sometimes."
Do you have any pets?
Izjik: "Nah. I never really got the concept of an animal you don't eat."
Sepo: "Landhorse is more of a business partner. She gets me where I need to be, and in exchange, I give her food, shelter, and pet her sweet nose from time to time. She's the best of horses, a gentlewoman among beasts."
What sort of sports do you play?
Izjik: "Does fighting for fun count? There's this bar I like where I can always get into a scrap if I'm looking for one. I think people have started placing bets every time I walk in."
Sepo: "I would go on cross-country camping trips when I was a teen in the Saryimastra Seat. That involved swimming for a few days at least, so I suppose it could be a sport. I found it very relaxing, escaping from all the noise and fuss of the temple. Sometimes Saius would go with me, but usually, I'd go off on my own."
How tall are you?
Izjik: "Tall enough to skin my fist on your teeth, lanky ass!"
Sepo: "You are five foot two. I'm six foot five. I really don't think you are."
What was your favorite subject in school?
Izjik: "I never went, but I liked learning how to set snares during my apprenticeship. It was the only thing I'd sit still for. Looking back, maybe that's why Dzako had me learn so many."
Sepo: "My education was rather... propaganda-filled. Most of the history I enjoyed learning turned out to be false. A lot of the books I read were horribly censored, though I didn't know it at the time. I suppose music. You can twist the words and intentions of music to whatever aims you wish, but the heart of it is always pure."
What is your dream job?
Izjik: "I mean, whatever gets me paid and let's me work outside. I heard Twenari talking once about these people called potion hunters? Apparently, they hunt magical plants and animals for alchemists to use in their work. That sounds like a hell of a lot of fun!"
Sepo: "I've... This is going to sound stupid, but I've always wanted to compose my own songs. In Ulahdris, music was strictly regulated and created by the church. But here on the surface? It's chaos. Any asshole with a kazoo can play whatever he wants. I... Oh, it's all nonsense anyways. I'm fine doing what I need to in order to survive."
Izjik: "You've gotta let yourself live a little, Sepo. I'd love to hear your music!"
Sepo: "Truly? Then... Then perhaps someday, I'll work up the courage."
.
World's most married platonic soulmates, for real. I'll tag @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff @sleepyowlwrites @corinneglass and anyone else who wants to play :)
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juniperleafdelivery · 2 months
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lunarharp · 9 months
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little bit of modern au (SPOILERS for the zelda game.)
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