#of seeing the protector and knowing hes never had anyone protect /him/ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foreverdolly · 16 days ago

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 6 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: serious blood play ( it only gets worse from here, folks. welcome to hell), the realization that feyd has been scenting her, the harkonnen's have a supernatural sense of smell, minor talk of feelings, lots of talk and show of devotion, the baron, the mention of breeding, dubious consent.

word count: 7.6k

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Something dark was building up- roiling inside of him.

It had a mind of its own.

It didn’t belong to him. . . not really. It was its own entity entirely.

It called to him in the middle of the night, waking him up from a dead, dreamless sleep. For a moment he stared at the slate grey wall, searching for any imperfections. When he found none he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t quite sure what he was searching for. Maybe a black hole to swallow him up. . . or an answer to his many questions.

It wasn’t in his nature to be good. If anything, it felt off to display any kind of affection. Niceties were always just a means to get something that he wanted. Goodness was something he had to practice. A skill he honed over the years so that he could carry a conversation with those that weren’t raised by the same closed, hard knuckled fists that he was.

It oozed off of you so naturally. Dripped from your mouth and your gentle hands. It was something that you freely created, and with zero effort at that. The thought of it used to infuriate him. He had heard about you, his promised one in passing. He’d always wanted you, from the first moment he’d met you back when you were children.

And while he was. . . infatuated with you? Yearned for you? Loved you? He wasn’t sure himself what it was that he felt, just that it had seeped itself into his very marrow- regardless of his feelings, he resented the fact that you weren’t cut from the same cloth. Feyd never minded the idea of putting you on a pedestal and protecting you. He’d play the part of your knight well, just as long as you’d let him relish in his misdeeds. No, he resented your kindness because he knew that eventually someone like him would use that against you. He had always wondered when it would happen. Had it happened on your planet when he hadn’t been there by your side? Or perhaps that moment had finally come whilst you were out on an excursion with your parent’s, making nice with other nobility.

You see, he hated the idea of anyone inflicting pain on you or inspiring fear in you. He wanted to be the soul owner of those sensations. Feyd could smell your fear in the air, the naturally floral scent of your skin turning slightly powdery the second that your pupils dilated and your heartbeat sped up. When he was in an enclosed space with you, like that damned closet, he could even taste it on his tongue. He often wondered if you were the same as he was in some aspects. If he choked you to the point of total oxygen deprivation would you cum harder? What if he ran his nails along your back and chest until you bled? Would you beg for him then?

No. . . probably not.

You were just as alien to him as he was to you. He didn’t see the world through your eyes, but as of late he wished that he could. Feyd wanted to know you so that he might be able to handle you better.

No. . . that wasn’t it.

Feyd wanted to know your favorite food and to be able to taste it for himself. Did you have animals back on Caladan and did you care enough about them to name them? Did you love anyone other than your family? He wanted you to tell him, in detail, what that was like. How did it feel to care for someone in that way, and how did you always make it look so easy to do so? What did you dream of when you closed your eyes to sleep at night? Did you prefer the night to the day and if you could ever get used to the thick smog that blocked your view from the sky, did you ever think at any point that you might stay with him here once everything was said and done?

He found no answers etched into the ceiling, and if they were really there, well then it was far too dark to tell. Instead he turned on his other side, his eyes instantly falling onto your resting form. He noted the way your lashes fluttered, eyes moving beneath your lids as you dreamed.

Did he haunt you the same way you haunted him?

His hand moved beneath his thin bed sheets, ghosting over your cheek. Instead he moved his finger just below your nose, feeling the warmth of your breaths. Someone had been so close to stopping those sleepy sighs completely, and while he had killed the perpetrators, the culprit was still in his own bedchambers, fat and bloated with greed.

He knew what the Baron dreamt of: death and power.

Feyd doubted that his uncle was finding any sort of trouble sleeping after what he had done. He’d gorge himself on food come the morning, another plan soon solidifying in his twisted mind.

The dark thing moved inside of his chest again, jerking awake so severely that Feyd could only sit up in bed, his hands flying to his sides so that he could grip at the mattress and not your delicate face on accident. The feathers didn’t feel as satisfying as a throat would, but he squeezed down regardless, imagining his uncle’s fat neck breaking beneath his unyielding strength. Would he try to say something to his nephew in his last moments? Would his eyes flash at his own blood’s betrayal. . . or would he stare at him in silent hatred?

No matter. Feyd reckoned that he would soon find out.

People die everyday. The weak had to be culled, that was what he had been taught afterall. Powerful men were able to move the weak like pawns, but Feyd preferred to do everything by himself. That was the difference between him and his uncle.

Feyd liked dirtying his hands. Vladimir had the numbers to command, but those men were all just as intimidated of his nephew as they were of him. The Na-Baron had two things that the “all powerful” Siridar-Baron did not: fangs and the ability to wield them. There was no weapon, unfamiliar or not, that Feyd couldn’t pick up and wield as though he had trained with them his whole life. There was no form of combat that he hadn’t honed his body with. Even worse, the Baron had raised Feyd with particular interest. He’d taught him since boyhood how to intimidate, barter, and kill legions of enemies with as little as a few words and harshly bit out threats. Above all else, Vladimir Harkonnen had taught Feyd-Rautha how to think and move across the game board just as he himself did.

While Vladimir had faceless, nameless pawns to command at will, his nephew had only one other playable piece on his side. If it had just been Feyd against his uncle then he would have already razed the entirety of the empire that he’d been raised in to the ground. He’d deliver the embers up to the black sun as a final offering before leaving. Heading for you.

Feyd wasn’t sure how something so weak could find its way to him. Better yet, that small, weak thing now lived inside of him, just as that nasty, violent entity did. There was once a time where he believed that they would always be separate. One could not live if the other was already inhabiting its host. . . but that was before.

Before that first kiss. Before the first softening of your gaze. Before you.

Slowly he laid back down, his head turning on instinct so that he could continue to watch you. So long as you were breathing then so shall he. He’d never had something that he needed to protect before. It felt heavy, but it wasn’t a bad thing- just a reminder that you were there. Still dreaming. Still loving. Death had always meant that there was something or someone better than him out there. If he had died then that just meant that he didn’t deserve to live. He had always been the type of warrior that craved to die in battle. How invigorating would it be to die by someone’s better trained hands? He’d watch with grave interest and jealousy as they carved him up. Feyd would want to feel everything. Experience it all with wide eyes so that he might learn and better himself even in his final moments.

Feyd laid there in his bed though, the idea of being a coward playing over and over again in his mind. Could he run if it meant that you’d live? Yes. That fact was startling. So much in fact that it threatened to undo absolutely everything that he’d ever been taught. Every unspoken code that he lived by was being erased, replaced by an intrinsic need to be by your side.

‘Could you accept her hatred?’ Yes, if need be.

‘Would you let her paint you as a monster if her conscience called for it?’ Whatever it took. He couldn’t look back.

‘What if it meant that she could never love you?’ Hate mirrored love in the grand scheme of things. He’d take whatever you’d give him willingly and without complaint, so long as you would let him pour his own affections into you.

Feyd would continue to take. . . and take. . . and take.

His next steps would all have to be carefully calculated. If he were in his uncle’s shoes then he would want to wait until after his enemy’s wedding, especially if it were obvious that suspicions were high. The pale man laid in bed for the rest of that night, his mind swimming with every possible step his uncle would take and might have already taken. If this were all going to work out then he would have to make sure that you were able to fight at his side when the time came. Despite his skill, it would be impossible to take an entire army on by himself, even if he timed things correctly. Feyd would have to start sowing seeds of doubt amongst his Uncle’s followers. He’d start with the men that had been assigned to his dimwit brother, Glossu. He’d no doubt side with their uncle when this all came to an end, though he’d be easy enough to dispose of. He was large, yes, but he was slow. He functioned off of anger and anger alone, which made him sloppy. Feyd could slit his throat whilst he slept and watch him gurgle on his own blood and dying breaths with not even a semblance of compassion.

This evening he needed to start small though: the guards that you’d tried to distract at the door and those that saw the two of you fleeing down the hall. Whether or not he wanted to blame the two of you being alone in the Baron’s wing together on a moment of passion, he knew that his uncle would be all too suspicious. He’d have to do away with all of them before they could say anything. Feyd could blame the killings on his recent boredom and the rising tensions before the marriage. Either way, he knew the Siridar-Baron was less likely to become suspicious of his actions if he was to blame it on his own blood lust.

He resented the fact that he’d still have to play the part of the Baron’s “beloved” nephew. Feyd wondered until the black sun rose high in the sky, the moonlight seeping from the room and plunging them in darkness yet again, whether or not he could even play nice with the man for a few more days. Everything inside of him, even now, screamed out at him: kill him. Kill him.

He’d take out your adversaries one by one as the days passed. Whether you knew it or not, Feyd was completely at your disposal.

The memory of home had collected to a single point, dripping from your mind like liquid to pool at your feet.

Your horse’s breath coming from his wide, kind mouth in thick plumes of aqueous smoke. Paul’s careful but unyielding fists flying past your cheeks in the training room. Your mother’s gentle hands cupping your face, the skin of her palms so soft and thin that you were scared that one day they might just tear against your lashes. Your father’s indulgent smile, always curious.

In the moments that you spent by yourself in your now shared living quarters you found yourself clinging to their voices as well as the exact color of their eyes. You wondered if there would be a day that you would forget all of it. You had to stand in front of the mirror just the other day, hands palming your face, trying to remember every point of resemblance between you and your twin that your parents had always so lovingly pointed out.

How long have you been on Giedi Prime? You tried to count on your fingers as you waited for Feyd to come back from wherever he’d stormed off to. How many nights have you slept in Feyd’s bed as opposed to the one that you’d been originally assigned? The wedding had been pushed back a few days due to the attempt on your life, but had your parents been made aware of the act? How many times have you eaten in the large dining room, miles of space between seats, feeling no more than a spectator of the life around you? You tried to imagine each breakfast, lunch and dinner that had been placed before you over the days, but the tan, black, and brown meats and side dishes all looked the same. They broke apart in your mouth and settled on your tongue like sand.

You remembered staring up at that black sun for the very first time with wide, horrified eyes. When did it swallow you up? What day? Hour? Minute? Mentally you turned back the clock, wondering when it was that you lost the will to count down the days, the only thought on your mind being your own survival. You’d been lost to a planet that wanted you dead.

Driven into a corner, you’d given in to your flight or fight instincts. The only thing on your mind at all hours of the day was the “when” and the “how”. When would the Baron strike next? How did he plan on taking you out? There wasn’t much of a reason to wonder why. You supposed he hadn’t taken a liking to you or had grown bored somehow. Vladimir never struck you as a man that followed the rules if he felt as though they didn’t give him a personal advantage, even the ones that the Bene Gesserit set in place.

Shaky fingers reached up to brush against your lips, as though you could still feel Feyd’s brushing against them. That man. . . that infuriating man had done something to you. His constant mind tricks were beginning to wear you down and it seemed as though you were finally buckling under the intense pressure of it all. You nearly fell forward, catching yourself against the side of one of the black settees in the sitting area, eyes closing against your will as the memory of his dominance washed over you, nearly pulling you out into a sea of want and need with the high tides of your own desire. You had been drowning for days, no buoy in sight. Eventually you’d tire yourself, fighting against the power of those waves. Even now your limbs shook with the overexertion of it all.

Your lips still tasted of sea water.

Has this been their plan all along? Were you losing your mind? The non stop seduction had somehow made such a horrific place more bearable. Bearable enough that, even in your own overwhelming paranoia, you’d lost track of how many days, hours, minutes, seconds you’d been away from everything you’d ever known and loved.

When the Na-Baron returned to the room you didn’t ask about the blood that clung to his pale skin, nor the crazed look in his eyes. By the time he was done showering, no doubt scrubbing off more carnage that your eyes hadn’t been able to see in the brief seconds that the two of you had stared at one another, the light had returned to his eyes. He was Feyd again. Just Feyd.

Perhaps even your Feyd.

He stood before you, wearing nothing but a pair of skin tight trousers that reminded you of what he so often trained in. He hadn’t dried off well enough, and you wondered if he’d been in a hurry to be in your presence. ‘Nonsense.’ You thought ruefully to yourself. The skewed view that your mind had created of Feyd Rautha-Harkonnen was nothing but a lie. A farce.

Living so closely with someone that wasn’t completely evil was more bearable than being held in a room with just another Harkonnen that wanted you dead. He was one of them, no matter how many times he tried to tell you differently.

Droplets of water ran down his pale chest. For a single, selfish moment you allowed yourself the time it took to follow one of the ephemeral bead’s trail. Down the line of his neck, pooling ever so slightly at his defined collarbone, before sliding down the harsh lines and planes of his chest and abs. It soaked into the waistband of his pants, dying there without even a whisper.

Would you die there too eventually? Would he split you into two and forget about you? Would he leave you bleeding and broken on your shared marital bed? You had to bite off a sob before it ripped from your chest, especially when he finally opened his mouth to speak after what felt like hours of prolonged, painful silence.

“Everything I do, from this point on, is for you. Even if I have to tell lies, know that my body and my mind would never betray you.” His eyes were searing, burning holes into your own.

He was constantly flickering between personalities. One second he treated you as though you were as fragile as gossamer stretched thin over your mother’s bone china, and then the next it was as though he was staring at his own reflection; like you were a mirror image of every dark desire he’d ever had.

Like called to like.

“How will I know that you’re not betraying me? Feyd, my life is at stake here. I can’t spend what might be my final hours-” He closed the distance between you in a single long legged stride, reaching out to grip your wrist in his large hand. The size difference between the two of you had once made you shake at the knees. At one point he had seemed like an unclimbable obstacle that stood between you and your freedom. What was he to you now?

“Stop talking like that,” He bit out, the muscles in his shoulders visibly tense at the mention of such finality. “I will cross one finger against the other when I’m telling a lie. Something only for you to see and to know.” He held up his free hand, demonstrating for you as he wrapped his middle finger over his pointer.

A signal.

“And how do I know that even that is the truth?” You whispered, the words painful to utter.

Lost. You were so lost here. Somewhere along the way you had forgotten which way was up and which way was down. Would anyone blame you for asking him to prove his loyalty? Was it really so selfish to need such assurance?

The pressure of his hold on your wrist loosened as he looked down at you, his jawline clicking. You could practically see the thoughts flashing behind his blue-grey eyes. Finally he settled on something, letting you go completely so that he could walk over towards the bed you had shared. Slowly he bent his large, broad body down, his pale hand running along the bottom of the frame. He retrieved a long, thinly crafted blade and showed it to you.

‘Every night that you’ve slept here could have been your last.’ It was a confession, you supposed. Was he trying to show you how weak and naive you were? You’d checked the cushions in the seating area, beneath his pillows and mattress- but you hadn’t thought to check the bedframe for any sort of weapon that could be used against you. Shame slapped you across the face, and yet again you were reminded of how weak you were.

Weak and stupid, the worst kind of combination.

He moved back over towards you, the blade still clutched in one of his hands while his other reached back out for you. He took hold of your wrist again, even as you began shaking your head. “No, please. . .” You whined out, your pupils blowing out wide as your heart began to race.

His nostrils flared and for a second he just stood there, the blade in one hand and your wrist in the other. “There’s no need to be afraid.” When he spoke in hushed tones like this it almost sounded like a hiss. You thought back to your first meeting with the Reverend Mother, your stomach clenching as a new kind of fear settled over you.

Feyd had never been a man. He had always been an animal. The person before you wasn’t. . . wasn’t like you. He could treat you softly, but things like that didn’t come naturally to him. Reassuring you at all went against the basis of who he was, and still he tried.

“My flesh is yours,” He told you, holding your gaze as he pressed the blade against his forearm. “As is my blood.” You flinched and tried to wrench your hand away from his as you watched him press against the leather handle. Onyx blossomed from the cut and fell onto your hand. It pooled in your palm as you fought to slide your wrist from his hold. It was so warm. . . and you wanted it to stop.

“Enough.” You barked out, trying your hardest to take a step back from him. He kept you in place, his face displaying no sense of pain or even discomfort.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap?”

He pressed the blade down harder, the small streams of blood turning into a river. It dripped from between your fingers and began to seep down the front of your linen day-dress. “Everything I am in exchange for all that you have to offer.”

“There’s an animal kind of trick.”

“Feyd, enough.” Your voice shook as you stared in horror at the blood. All of that blood. . . for you.

All that he was. All that he would ever be.

In exchange.

He dropped the blade beside him, the loud clanging sound causing your shoulders to quiver. The pale man stared at your hand for a few seconds and all you could do was watch him, your whines and prayers for him to stop whatever this was dying out on your tongue. His eyes. . . oh, heavens. You felt as though you’d disintegrate into nothing but ashes where you stood. The light in those blue eyes had been completely snuffed out and all that remained was darkness. It was almost as though the shadows that seemed to constantly wrap themselves around him had seeped beneath his skin. There were no pupils. No irises. Just. . . black. As black as his blood that now coated your hands.

He was everywhere. Feyd was everywhere you looked, every scent you breathed in, every touch and sensation- and your chest heaved with some sort of emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It felt as though your heart was ripping at your lungs, at your throat, begging to be let out. You needed to be freed of these horrible, sinful thoughts.

The pale Harkonnen warrior stared at you as though you were the beginning and end of everything. Nothing else existed outside of this room. The sight of his own life essence spilling down your skin, staining you. . . was the epitome of perversion.

This animal- this paragon looked at you with phantom eyes and wished that he could possess you.

He pulled your wrist higher up, his attention dropping down to your dripping palm. Slowly, too slowly, he dipped the tip of his pointer finger into the pool that he had created. He lifted his hand up between the both of you before pressing his thumb against your chin, prying your lips open.

You were too confused to understand what it was that he wanted from you. It wasn’t until the metallic taste of his blood spread over your tongue did you truly understand what he was doing. Your eyes, now the size of saucers, locked on his. For a brief second you thought about biting his finger. Whatever was happening between the two of you was too intense for you to handle, especially with your mental wellbeing hanging in limbo.

But you let his finger caress your tongue. You even opened your mouth wider for him, moaning when his lips curled up at your sudden obedience. His eyes flickered up to your eyes from your mouth when he heard the sound, a responding groan meeting your ears. Deep and guttural, as though he wanted you to know that he felt it too. He felt all of it. He hooked his finger on your bottom teeth, sliding them against your gums and then. . .

Then he released your mouth. “Swallow me.”

And so you did. The thickness of it coated your mouth and tongue, marking you from the inside out. You weren’t sure why you were so willing to do as he told, but there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t want to please him at that moment.

It was almost as though he had watched the fight and the fear drain from your body. You stood there, languid and malleable before him.

It was odd. . . but it was like you could finally breathe for the first time in days.

“You never ask for permission.” You couldn’t project your voice the way that you wanted to. You had spoken in a barely audible whisper.

“No,” His voice was low enough to be considered a hum in response. “Never.”

And as if to prove that as fact, Feyd lowered his lips down onto yours. His grip was still on your stained wrist and you were positive that if he hadn’t been holding you in some way then you might have just floated away. The floor would have swallowed you up whole. . . or that black, black sun. The strength of his bruising hold acted as a tether, tying you to the floor and to him. Your lips tightened, compressing for a split second against the softness of his kiss. It wasn’t as searing as the other ones had been. A part of you reviled this small shred of humanity that he was showing you, the paranoia still biting at the back of your mind. Was he doing this to disarm you?

But you remembered his blood and his promise. You could feel it beginning to dry on your skin, growing cold and tacky: a reminder. His flesh was yours.

In that instant you yielded- submitted fully to all of it. You assaulted his mouth with your own, lips melting against his as your free hand moved up to cup the side of his neck, pressing him harder against you. The suddenness of your surrender had him staggering, his hold on your wrist loosening in his shock before he finally let you go, his strong arms wrapping around you so tightly that you feared that you might be crushed into his chest.

Would you really mind that though?

You allowed his lips to birth you anew and gave into the deranged desires. If this was what it meant to be mentally insane then. . . you weren’t sure if you wanted to be put back together again. His lips moved against yours, tongue curling into your mouth in such a way that you couldn’t help but wonder what other parts of you he could set ablaze. He owned your mouth, just as he had before when his finger had slipped past your teeth.

No doubt he could taste the metallic film that still clung to your tongue, and you let him. Your newly freed hand slid along the expanse of his chest, and without needing to see it you knew that you were leaving your own marks. Hands, fingers, blood- it was everywhere.

No matter how close he pressed himself against you it still didn’t feel enough.

Feyd was kissing you with a fervent need- not to own you, but as if he truly couldn’t get enough. He pressed his lips against yours as though he could absorb you into his body. It would be safer there, you thought. If he wanted to breathe you in then you would damn well let him.

He broke the kiss so that he could look at you, and after he had gotten his fill he pressed his lips against yours in small pecks. Once, twice, and then his eyes opened once again. The hunger in his eyes was still there, of course, but there was a strange sense of longing there too. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but before he could open his mouth you were stepping up on your toes, pressing your lips against his neck.

You thought of every demented thing you’d wanted to do to him since you’d been stuck on this forsaken planet. At one point you’d wanted to gut him, then silence him and now. . . now you wanted him so badly that your hands shook as they began to pull at the waistband of his pants. The sound he let out was so loud that you were positive that someone had to have heard it. The moan was all beast, no hint of man to be found.

“You’re covered in it,” He panted out, tilting his head to the side so that you could continue biting and licking at his pale neck. His skin tasted of the spicy, herbal soap he had used in the shower. You wanted more of him. All of him, in fact. “On our wedding night I’ll give you even more of it.” He promised, his hands moving to braid themselves into your hair. The tips of his fingers massage your scalp roughly, and when you bite down a little too hard on his soft skin you can hear a few strands of your hair popping as they are ripped from the roots.

“I’ll mark every inch of your body,” He removed your hand from the waistband of his pants, and right when you were about to cry out a complaint he pressed your palm against his straining front. He allowed you to run your fingers along every inch of him, shuddering at the feel of your fingers- so tiny- brushing against him. “Make you drink it even.”

Those words tumbling from his lips sounded, in a fucked up way, as though he was worshipping you. The dam had burst wide open and the two of you could do nothing to keep Feyd from uttering every cursed, demented thought he’d ever had about you.

“I’ll coat myself in it. My blood and cum belong in and on every inch of you.”

You were finally touching him. Not because he was forcing it out of you but because you chose to. Again and again, as your fingers continued their exploration, you reminded yourself that this was what you wanted.

More, more, more.

“Na-Baron?” No one, not once over the days that you’d spent in Feyd’s quarters, had ever dared to knock on the door. Usually they’d place your meals just outside of it around the same time each day, not wanting to be sliced to ribbons after everything that had happened. The sound of the foreign voice cooled your hot blood so quickly that you swore that you could hear it fizzing in your ears, the heat being replaced by white, cold terror.

For a few elongated moments Feyd stared at you, his breathing labored. You watched as he sucked in a singular breath, caging it in his lungs for a beat before blowing it out slowly. One step at a time he detached himself from you, looking pained all the while. You silently cursed whoever it was that had interrupted the both of you.

This had been the first thing that you had, quite possibly, ever done for yourself. Every day, even back on Caladan, had been spent training with Paul. Since the day of your birth you had known that you would be shipped off, married to someone that you knew very little about. Every day had become a waiting game, filled with meaningless marriage training.

This moment had been just for you. You had wanted him more than anything, and if not for the interruption then you would have more than willingly given yourself to him completely. It was all so complex, and you weren’t sure of the meaning behind it all. Had you come to care for Feyd or was it just the release that you were searching for? Either way, you had wanted it. Whatever it meant.

“What is it?”

You tried to drown out the voices as you slowly moved away from the sitting area and further into the room, realizing now that the two of you probably looked deranged. As you stared down at your clothes you finally noticed that this was all. . . so gruesome. With a small gasp you began pawing at your dress, noticing the sheer amount of blood that had been spilled. How deeply had he cut himself? Was he still bleeding, even now?

You hurried to the bathroom, turning the sink on so that you could wash your hands.

This place felt as though it had already stolen years of your life from you, when in actuality it couldn’t be more than two weeks. Still, you’d lived every hour on edge and in constant earth shattering terror. For the first time in those three hundred and thirty-six hours you didn’t feel alone. In fact. . . you felt good, if anything. A ten ton weight had been lifted from your chest.

You didn’t just have a protector. An Atreides had somehow managed to find themselves a damned champion.

“Our presence is needed at the arena,” Feyd started, crowding the door frame as you continued to scrub at your fingers. One of his hands reached out, as if to stop you, but he let it fall back at his side before his fingers could grip yours. “We need to make an appearance.”

Yes, you should have expected that. Everyone must want to see the sacrificial lamb that had been led to the slaughter.

The black sun had set a few hours ago, and the light of the moon was blinding as you were led down a long black corridor and up a steep, obsidian staircase. The new color palette of your life: black, grey and white- it blinded you now as you gripped Feyd’s steady hand. The balcony had a clear view of the entire arena, the white sand below catching the rays of the full moon that hung high, suspended in the air above you.

A few cloaked figures were seated, their backs towards you as they stared out at the scene unfolding before them. A loud voice that you didn’t recognize was narrating the carnage, the loud screams and voices of the crowd assaulting your ears. The arena itself reminded you of the training grounds that you and Feyd had spent much of your time over the last two weeks. It was so strange to think that it had been two full weeks since the day that you had threatened the Harkonnen man out on that sandy terrain, poised and ready to kill him. Back then you had wanted to spill his blood, especially if it had meant that you could find your way back to your family.

It had been a fool's errand: husband or not, you were never meant to return to the life that you had lived before.

The black gown that had been prepared for you was uncomfortable and so long that you had to kick your feet out just so that you wouldn’t trip on the train. You felt ridiculous and missed the breathable fabrics and gossamer of your home planet. As you looked out at the sea of spectators you realized that you blended right in. If you had been wearing a veil to disguise your facial features then you would have been just another Harkonnen, jowls wide and drooling as you stared out at the bloody terrain. Thirsty for carnage and wrath.

The sun had begun to change you. You were no longer favored by the light.

The hand clutching yours was a stark reminder of that, as was the way that you clung to him right back. “An hour. Tolerate this for an hour.” He whispered in your ear.

His lips were still swollen from your kisses. The moment that had been shared between you had been far from gentle, but it had been the closest thing to loving that you’d ever experienced. You didn’t startle as he reassuringly squeezed your hand.

The Bene Gesserit’s eventual arrival had been expected. You knew, eventually, someone from the Order would come and check on how the marriage ceremony was proceeding. You doubted that they’d been made aware of the recent threats.

It was doubtful that they’d even care.

You’d recognized the old, hateful hag even with her veil on, the downward tilt of her lips visible even from a hazy distance. You squint your eyes against the light, bowing your head ever so slightly as you began to take the empty seat beside her. Imperceptibly Feyd reached out, moving around you so that he could take the seat next to the familiar woman and his uncle. It was a kindness that you happily accepted.

“Mother.” It was a practiced greeting, but she nodded her head in your direction, her eyes still cast towards the arena.

It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust fully to the light, the white bodies in the sand finally actualizing themselves as your pupils dilated. A man was on his knees, crawling towards a discarded dagger. The white landscape beneath him had been dyed with his blood.

It was nothing you hadn’t seen before. You tried to rationalize that fact with yourself once you discerned that one of his legs had been completely severed at the knee. Still, as he inched forward, digging himself even further into the sand beneath him, you couldn’t help the bile that began crawling its way up your throat.

“The gladiators know how special tonight is for the two of you,” Vladimir said with a sneer, his eyes catching on your face. “They were instructed to make it as flashy as possible.”

You had to turn your head, the disgust darkening your eyes as you cast down your gaze.

“You indulge me too much, uncle.” Feyd’s lips tilted up with a sick grin, one that you recognized from days past.

The warrior- if you could even call him that- gave a final cry as he finally reached his blade. The poor bastard wasn’t even given enough time to grip the hilt in his bloody palm before the gladiator struck down with his own kindjal.

It sliced through the air in a wide ark, cutting through shadows, cloth and bone as it hit its mark. The sound drained from the surrounding stands as the Harkonnens stood up on their feet. Their pale, terrifying faces gaping as they took in the carnage.

Your chest heaved before you could stop yourself as you watched the warrior’s decapitated head roll across the ground, his eyes wide and lifeless. You were too caught up in the moment to even realize that Feyd had gripped the bell-sleeve of your dress, yanking you back down as you began to stand up.

Escape. You needed to escape.

“Your promised one seems eager to get up close.” The baron chuckled in his seat, having seen your reaction.

“Our customs are unfamiliar to her. She will learn in time.” Feyd’s excuses for your strange behavior were becoming second nature to him now.

“Perhaps you are eager to show her how skilled you are,” The Baron leaned forward ever so slightly so that he could meet your gaze, his chair creaking beneath his weight. “Your future husband is the most skilled gladiator that Giedi Prime has ever bore witness to. No one in this entire arena could ever match his might.”

“I feel incredibly lucky.” And you did. Knowing that he was planning to help you fight your battles settled your stomach, but you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in that poor warrior’s place. The Harkonnens were no doubt wishing that you would get pushed onto that cold sand so that your colored blood could paint their arena walls.

As if on cue the animals began to scream, raising their palms up to the sky as the gladiator gripped the severed head by its hair. Slowly he turned, letting every woman, man and child get a good view of the brutality of it. Finally he turned to you, his black eyes seemingly glaring straight through you.

“An offering, lady Atreides.” He called out over the screams.

Beside you Feyd tensed, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he bared his teeth at the other male. The Baron laughed loudly, clapping his hands together in gleeful approval. “It seems Feyd is eager to give you an offering of his own. Why don’t you volunteer yourself to fight?”

The man beside you seemed tempted to take his uncle up on that offer. Whatever the other male had just done must have been a sign of disrespect.

“He’s goading me,” Feyd seemed to read your mind, his blue eyes narrowed on the other pale creature below. “He’s presenting himself to you.”

The warrior continued to grin up at the balcony, his eyes promising bloodshed.

You blinked, stomach churning as you slowly turned to look at the reverend mother. She kept her eyes on the warrior, feigning interest. She must have seen much destruction in her long life because the old crow didn’t even bat an eye at the scene before her. She looked just as disinterested as she had that very first night you had made her acquaintance. Being stranded here with the Baron and reverend mother was a terrifying thought, but you didn’t dare beg Feyd to stay with you. The last thing you needed to do was show weakness to either one of them.

So you sucked in a small breath and straightened your shoulders, looking expectantly at the both of them. You waited for the Baron to stand up and declare that his nephew would be dueling the unruly gladiator. No doubt you’d be cornered the second that he stepped away from the balcony. Not once had you been left alone with the Baron, and you silently wondered if his hatred would slip into his speech the second his “adoring” family member was out of earshot.

“I wish to be married before I present her with an offering of flesh.” Feyd said through clenched teeth, his eyes still on the gladiator. The two of them seemed to be having a standoff with their eyes, communicating something that you couldn’t see nor understand.

“The both of you already smell heavily of bloodletting. It seems to me that the two of you are already bound.” The Baron seemed smug in his observation, especially when you quickly whirled to face him with wide eyes.

Smell? He could. . . smell Feyd’s blood on you?

Feyd’s lips tilted up into a small, cocky smile as he turned to face his uncle. “You wanted us to try for offspring as soon as possible. We have been quite busy these last few days.” He placed his hand in yours as he spoke.

One finger curled over the other inside of your palm. A lie.

“I am pleased to hear so.” And the Baron, despite his apparent hatred of you, did seem pleased. He didn’t actually want Atreides-Harkonnen children running around.

No, he was pleased that his nephew had deflowered and sullied you.

“There will be another time for me to properly show my wife what I am capable of. I will offer her that man’s head as a wedding gift.” Feyd promised, and with the look on his face you were sure that he would deliver it to you on a silver platter.

Your grip on sanity must have slipped. The black sun must have finally tainted your heart because heavens, with the new knowledge that the Harkonnens possessed an unnatural sense of smell, you had to press your thighs together in the hopes that no one around you could smell your arousal.

“Yes,” The Baron hummed pridefully, his lips turning up into a secretive smile. “I have a feeling that our lady Atreides will become well acquainted with the arena in due time.”

ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

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metamatronic · 2 months ago

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Why does MCI!Jeremy take the form of the Puppet as a Phantom? (I know it's cuz there is no Phantom Bonnie variant but I was wondering why in universe he would take that form)

Also love this au! ❤️

When Jeremy first moved to Hurricane, Charlie took him under her wing when he didn’t know anyone. She also introduced him to the rest of the MCI Brigade. After Charlie was killed, Jeremy went to the Emily’s every day to see if she was home (she never was).

By the time of Fazbear Frights, most of the MCI kids had completely lost their bodies and most of their memories. Jeremy had vague memories of Charlie/Puppet being a protector, so he manifested a phantom version of her to “protect” him and his friends.

#williamwasframed!au #i think charlie died at 13 (in 1983). she was a year younger than mike.#the MCI kids were all david’s age #but david died at 7 in ‘83 and the MCI kids died at ~9 in ‘85 #alliswell!aftons #jeremy fnaf #charlie emily #MCI fnaf #henry emily #art #doodles #comic #digital art #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fanart #meta talks

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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hello! if you're still writing for Creature Commandos, i'd like to request some platonic headcanons for Weasel, please! just some general thoughts or scenarios on being his friend/caretaker. if you're not writing for these characters anymore then pls ignore!

Weasel was innocent in your eyes! No fucking doubt about that! You didn’t buy the whole ‘child killer’ narrative about him when you were quick to see that there was no hostile nor violent tendencies towards children in general.

So your and weasels friendship felt borderline like you were his caretaker in most cases as dr phosphorus would always tell you to rein in your ‘feral child’

To which you would smile innocently before telling Weasel to piss on the irradiated Skelton out of spite. Good times.

Many on the team had noticed that weasel was more comfortable and at ease when you were nearby, which mean that you were often teamed up together on more then one occasion as you both worked like a well oiled machine. You could understand him on a level that others couldn’t grasp and that was what made you an unlikely duo.

You weren’t seen without weasel and weasel wasn’t seen without you, so even if the rest of the team saw one without the other they’d always ask the question;

‘Where’s the rest of you?’

You would then point to the rafter above you where weasel was hanging out, looking a little sickly than usual. ‘He threw up.’

Or if weasel was asked where you were, he’d run away before coming back to with your arm in his jaw, but you were unfazed as this wasn’t the first time that weasel dragged you with your arm in his jaw, you still had the marks form the previous times he did this that you had to squint to see since he never put any pressure when dragging you at all as though he was careful to not hurt you.

Weasel does go fucking apeshit when he sees that you were hurt, his only friend and somewhat caretaker was injured and he was seeing red as he tore apart the person(s) who did it to absolute shreds. Literally he gave a new meaning to the word feral after that with a bloody muzzle, teeth and claws.

‘I’m fine.’ You’d have to tell him when he inspects your wounds, making noises of distress as he would attempt to lick your wounds like a dog would, but you were certain that wasn’t hygienic at all but you appreciate the gesture as you scratched him behind the ear, making him close his eyes and let out a noise akin to purr.

I’d like to think that now and then weasel would cuddle into your side afterwards, always being your feral protector when you were healing, always watching over you silently as you smile at your best friend. It’s a beautiful thing between the two of you as you cradled your furry friend to your chest before drifting off to sleep after a gruesome and tiresome mission.

‘You did good today weez.’ You’d praise him as you rubbed his back, only for weasel to make a soft noise like he was telling you something similar as he nuzzled himself further into you like the clingy rat that you knew he could be. And he could be clingy when he wanted to be as half of the time he was climb your back and force you to carry him back to your shared room.

Now if weasel was hurt, you’d react in kind by going ballistic before sticking by his side as he recovered. ‘You okay weez?’ You’d ask.

Weasel would make a weak noise but you’d smile and keep watch over him. ‘I’m right here weez, I’m not going anywhere.’ You’d remind him and that was enough to calm him down and go into a light slumber.

Yours and weasel’s friendship was unheard of but you wouldn’t change it for anything not anyone as weasel has become a vital part of you as you had become a vital part of him, something you’d protect until you couldn’t anymore as you didn’t know where you’d be without having your furry friend making your life that little more bearable…even if you did have to tell him to stop licking the damn windows and eating shit that he’s not meant to by forcing your hand in his jaw to get it out yourself.

‘SPIT IT OUT WEEZ! YOU’RE NOT MEANT TO EAT THAT!’ You’d yell but weasel was adamant on eating the dirty bandaid he found on the floor, much to your disappointment and everyone else’s (mainly dr phosphorus) hilarity.

Also you, weasel and dr phosphorus are like a trio of pure chaos with you being the mediator between the two, but that’s a story for another day.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #creature commandos #creature commandos imagine #creature commandos imagines #creature commandos x you #creature commandos x reader #creature commandos x y/n #dc fluff

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satsugacafe · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 | (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 3)

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Yhwach, Jugram Haschwalth, Askin Nakk Le Vaar, Bazz-B, Ishida Ryuken, Ishida Uryu

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 |

𑁍 Yhwach — Dominant and Assertive Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა The Quincy King is possessive of you to a high degree and would not hesitate to remove anyone who tries to approach you with any intentions (sort of yandere if you ask me). A hand around your waist or shoulder in public to make it clear—you’re the King’s. And look out for the kisses that scream ‘Mine!’

˚₊‧꒰ა You are the only person on this earth and in the afterlife who has some leeway to command or ask him for something without being judged on the spot or removed. And believe it or not, Yhwach will simply smile and respond with an “As you wish, my love/dear.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When it comes to being in his presence, you’re the only person who can have the King hovering around 25/8, and it’s not because he wants to have you around, but more wanting to have your undivided attention on him. Often pulling you away from councils to spend time, leaving Jugram to handle it.

˚₊‧꒰ა As the King, the majority, if not all, the noble houses follow his rule. So this invites gifts and the royal treatment. You would like a huge room that connects to a library and a garden? Bet. You wish for diamonds and pearls? Of course! Anything for you once he can display his wealth and power.

˚₊‧꒰ა If you’re a member of the Sternritters, he would prefer to have you assigned close to him at all times wherever he goes. This way, he can protect you from any harm and danger on the battlefield, showing off his grand strengths and feats (gotta make himself look good in your eyes as your protector). He will also assign personal escorts, like Jugram or one of the other Schutzstaffel to keep you safe at all times.

˚₊‧꒰ა In private, you would get to see his domineering aura slip away as he cradles your face, presses soft kisses to your forehead and drapes you in his cloak to keep you warm. His tone softens as you both talk about your future together or as he listens to rambling about some hobby or item you like—making mental notes.

˚₊‧꒰ა He isn’t a man of romantic words—always speaking about the future of the Quincy Empire—but when he does express his heart, which once again includes the empire, he reassures you that there can be no future for the empire if you aren’t at his side. You are his motivation and goal.

𑁍 Jugram Haschwalth — Overprotective Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s like a silent bodyguard HOVERING. He has eyes everywhere on you, and should you mention it, his response is always along the lines of, “It is my duty to protect and ensure your safety, my love. You must be safe at all times.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He’s a man who lives on acts of service and will go out of his way to do almost anything for you, whether it’s your favourite drinks or handling a task that gave you a hard time. He is silent about this, never one to speak about it since he believes actions speak louder than words.

˚₊‧꒰ა Now, we all know this man is stoic and all about propriety, however, you will get the small and meaningful moments when he cracks a genuine smile or holds your hands amidst the crowd. In private, the way he holds onto you as if he’s afraid of losing you brings out his softer side. Holding you close to his chest as he whispers about protecting you from the harshness of the world.

˚₊‧꒰ა “I noticed you were very close and friendly with that person.” Enough said to let you know that he was jealous. Did he need to eliminate someone who thought they had a chance? It was brewing under his skin, itching to claw its way out.

˚₊‧꒰ა But Jugram being Jugram, wouldn’t further elaborate on the statement but rather spend more time with you so you didn’t need to be around the other person. Anyone who believes they have a chance will be receiving a healthy dose of misfortune.

˚₊‧꒰ა Treats you like you’re made of glass. It can be annoying at times because he fears when you have to fight, always jumping in front of an attack to defend you and never letting you get a moment to act independently during a fight. Yet, it is also sentimental when it comes to affection—his touch is tender as though you would break.

˚₊‧꒰ა You once asked him to train you to fight and despite his silent demeanour, you could see the questions floating around his head. “Why? What for? I’m here to protect you, aren’t I? Am I not doing a good job? Did someone harm you?”

˚₊‧꒰ა Will lose his mind (silently) if you ever decide to wear something revealing. It’s worse when you walk around, flaunting how you look as other Sternritters ogle your body in the outfit. He’s ready to pop a vein, and you can feel his intense, cold stare. Bazz-B and Askin make sure to tease him, which earns them glares.

𑁍 Askin Nakk Le Vaar — Playful and Flirtatious Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა This man could never take things seriously and is always up for jokes and games. Very touchy. Always poking, pinching, biting and turning everything into a competition for the sake of laughter and seeing you both happy. Amidst the fun and games, it’s also the perfect opportunity to make himself extra flirty. “Oh, come on, you know you can’t resist my charm.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Eccentric. And you will have to endure his quirkiness which is mostly shown through the gifts he gives you and his sense of fashion. One day he comes in looking like a peacock and the other, a runway model. There’s no in-between with this man. At least you get to raid his extensive collection of shades.

˚₊‧꒰ა Askin is a cool as a cucumber and not interested in sweating over something that isn’t worth his time or effort. This behaviour extended into his approach when it comes to giving you support. He understands your goal is important to you, thus important to him, however, you shouldn’t pressure yourself and over-stress. Take it easy.

˚₊‧꒰ა Not so much the jealous type with his whole laidback personality but doesn’t appreciate when others overlook the boundaries of what should and shouldn’t be. Masks it behind sarcastic remarks and playful banter, it’s obviously clear that he doesn’t enjoy the other person’s proximity. “Who’s the new friend? Should I be jealous and ready to fight?”

˚₊‧꒰ა With all the laidback personality he possesses, he has his degree of protectiveness ready to use. He knows you’re strong and you can handle yourself, but at the same time, he wants to be your protector. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Just sit back and enjoy the show.” And then he proceeds to show off.

˚₊‧꒰ა With his unpredictable nature, you can expect to be randomly cheered up or surprised by him in the middle of doing literally anything. He’ll just slide into your room and mumble something about how he brought you a snack, or ‘Let’s go somewhere, I found a cool place.’

˚₊‧꒰ა The best person you have to compliment you. They roll off his tongue like silk, always making you feel pretty and boosting your confidence, even during the most random times. It could be in the middle of a conversation about something he did as a kid, and he’ll stop to compliment your outfit or smile.

𑁍 Bazz-B — Aggressively Passionate Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა The Mohawk King is fiercely protective of you with a high degree of aggressiveness. Will not hesitate to burn someone to cinders if they mess with you the wrong way or come too close for his liking. “If anyone even thinks about messing with you they’ll have to deal with me.” Just kiss his bald spot and he’ll calm down.

˚₊‧꒰ა Passionate when it comes to expressing his love towards you and also every affectionate, physically. He enjoys having you close to him, like glued to his side with an arm around your waist, while he whispers in your ear about how much you mean to him, and he doesn’t hold back with his feelings. It’s as intense as his powers.

˚₊‧꒰ა Listen, you need to know that people will be getting turned into cinders very quickly once they try to get close and comfortable. With the way he’s always around you, showing you off and having no shame for public displays of affection, people should already know you’re taken by the fiery mohawk guy. “Do I need to turn that person into a burnt piece of steak?”

˚₊‧꒰ა So I mentioned that he’s into PDA, so get accustomed to being pulled into corners of the hallway or gathering rooms to make out, even when others are present—except for Yhwach being around. Hickeys are being left in visible areas for everyone to see what you two have been up to and expect a smack to your ass from time to time.

˚₊‧꒰ა With his possessiveness comes his devotion and loyalty. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for life.” His loyalty to you is unwavering—he’s standing by your stand side no matter the situation, ready to defend and support you.

˚₊‧꒰ა Expect one of his forms of affection to be bold gestures. Showing off with over-the-top gestures, like creating a spectacular display of his Burner Fingers just to impress you. At the same time, you don’t have to worry about the cold with him around. He’s your personal heater.

˚₊‧꒰ა Playful banter is never ending with his guy. You two will be acting like children. “Let’s playfight! Race you to the gathering room! Wanna see me chug this in one gulp? Think you can beat me? In your dreams!” The both of you are always competing over the smallest of things.

𑁍 Ishida Ryuken — Subtle Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა Attentive about everything you say and do, given his medical background, and will always make it his business to check up on you, ensuring that you’ve eaten and gotten enough rest. You might get a little scolding when you tell him you have eaten or rested enough.

˚₊‧꒰ა Do not look towards receiving any PDA from this man, I’m telling you, he’s reserved. He just doesn’t want Isshin to see and make a fool out of him. This does not take away from the affections he chooses to publicly display, like giving you his jacket when it’s cold, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb against your skin, a kiss to your forehead or temple.

˚₊‧꒰ა You don’t have to worry about getting sick and being alone or paying an expensive medical bill, Ryuken is here to cover that for you. He’s both your doctor and benefactor, so points for you. He’s always ensuring that your health is well-cared for. As much as he appears calm on the exterior, he’s worried on the inside.

˚₊‧꒰ა You don’t have to worry about him looking at another person, his eyes are reserved for you and you alone. Ryuken’s loyalty is unmatched and unwavering, and he will be by your side every step of the way. That man is there to support you through thick and thin.

˚₊‧꒰ა Likewise, Ryuken’s jealousy is…erm, subtle like him. He can and will get jealous at times, however, he hides it so well (kinda like Jugram). He will become more attentive and protective, spending more time with you when he feels or notices something getting closer. “I noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with that colleague. Is everything alright?”

˚₊‧꒰ა In privacy, you will see his layers of reservations peel off with ease, knowing that he can display how much he adores you without someone noticing. Ryuken will more than just hold your hands and have his arms around your waist. Kissing you a lot more which grows more passionate with each kiss and his hands keeping you pressed against his body.

˚₊‧꒰ა Surprises you from time to time with gifts, mostly things you’ve spoken about, and he made a mental note to get them. It shows how much he pays attention to details and the things you care about.

𑁍 Ishida Uryu — Gentleman Simp

˚₊‧꒰ა Uryu is so sweet when it comes to you. The way he gently looks at you with such admiration and adoration anytime you’re speaking or helping him is masked perfectly behind his calm appearance, but the eyes never lie. Not around you. He’s much more patient and willing when it comes to you.

˚₊‧꒰ა He would often surprise you with small, thoughtful gifts. Like in winter, he’ll present you with a new custom scarf he knitted. It doesn’t matter if you have fifty million scarves, he still wants to give you the one he made by hand because he cares for you, and it’s better than the others you have.

˚₊‧꒰ა He is a respectful gentleman, never pushing you to do anything your uncomfortable with, and will stand up for you if he notices others forcing you. “If you ever need some time alone or someone to talk to, just let me know. I’ll understand.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You can look forward to his gentle protective nature, always looking out for your safety. If you were walking home late, he might insist on accompanying you. Along the way, he would make some small comments and jokes to bring about a sense of extra security amidst the cold, lonely night. “It’s not safe to walk alone at this hour. Let me walk you home.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He probably hates when Ichigo and the gang are around, given their nature to snoop and learn that he’s crushing on you. They make everything worse, especially Ichigo and Renji who will constantly tease him while telling you all the embarrassing things about Uryu until he decides enough is enough and fires a bunch of arrows at their asses.

˚₊‧꒰ა Given Uryu’s nature to display great levels of respect, he’s someone who gives lots of support and compliments, ensuring that you know your worth and are amazing in his eyes. Paying great attention to details, that way, he is able to assess the situation and know the right words and encouragement to give. “You’re an amazing and strong person. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You don’t have to worry about jealousy when it comes to Uryu. That was a lie in fact. Uryu would be imagining shooting the person with his arrows like a dart board. He’s similar to his father—not one to come out and admit he’s jealous, but his behaviour would change. Meaning, he becomes more attached even when it seems out of character.

©satsugacafé 2024: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

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hitomisuzuya · 26 days ago

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husband scaramouche x fem!reader. head canons. fluff. soft!scara.

i really got the urge to write headcanons about husband scara, and how he would act with a pregnant wife. this is mainly cute headcanons. i may do the same thing with childe and aventurine.

when you announce to scaramouche that you are pregnant, he kneels in front of you and puts his hand on your stomach. "there is a cretin growing inside you?" despite his..unique choice of words, there is a hint of wonder and pride in his voice. once you scold him for said choice of words, and he tries again, he puts his ear to your stomach and says, "hello in there? are you a girl or a boy? whatever you are, i am waiting to welcome you into this world."

yeah, you definitely married him for a reason. looking down at him, your heart swells with so much love that you thought it might burst. this man, the feared balladeer, notorious for so many things is also your husband, the very same man hovering his hand so gently over your belly.

scaramouche would have this fierce need to be a good parent because he has already been the victim of having a shitty parent. there is no way he would do the same thing to his child.

that being said, he also takes being a husband very seriously. he even is a bit old fashioned about it. no wife of his would work if she didn't have to. of course, you could freely choose to work. he wouldn't stop you, but he certainly didn't have to like it. the way he sees it, his wife is strong, but if he can be strong for her, he can and he will. he is the protector. the provider and that was that.

his wife is the center of his world. he also married you for a reason. you don't let him get away with his shit. you argue with him, and back talk him without fear. you tell him what's what while still being patient with him. you have shown him qualities like being gentle and caring still exist. and he would burn all of teyvat and celestia itself if anything dared take you away from him.

whatever his wife wants, his wife gets, pretty much.

also, the kind of husband that says he doesn't want cats, but then you find him napping with said kitten sleeping curled up on his chest. you want cats and other pets, and he can't say no to you. but also know this, he genuinely enjoys having pets. you gotta know when to look at the right times to see them. moments like the one you took a picture of. they do happen. and often.

during your pregnancy, he is incredibly on top of things. he keeps all of your doctors appointments carefully noted. he makes them in advance on the exact day that they should be. if the doctor wanted to see you back in a week for some tests, the appointment was scheduled exactly one week later, at the same time as the previous appointment. he is incredibly particular.

really, the doctors and nurses have never seen anything like it before. this man would background check everyone if he could. twice.

literally fort knox level protection anytime you go out. there is not a chance anyone will come close to accidentally bumping into you. you had to have a talk with him about snapping at people he thought walked too close to you. twice. he struggles with improvement in this area to say the least.

if you have some crazy pregnancy cravings food in the middle of the night. it could be at 3am and he wouldn't care. he would be out the door getting it. in fact, man would start a war over it. "i don't care if that's what not you do. my wife is pregnant. i say you can do it, so you can do it."

when it's time for you to go on bed rest, he makes sure he is doing everything for you. if you needed anything, he got it for you.

when you found out you were pregnant, you also had this thought: 'god help the doctors and nurses working when i go into labor. i don't they will be prepared for scaramouche.' and you were right.

the nurses at your doctors office even put notes about him in your chart for the emergency room and hospital staff to look at in advance.

scaramouche makes sure everything is done straight to the letter. and that includes little things like your iv getting put in. he is even able to calculate the exact amount of time it takes for your iv drip bag to empty and is calling the nurse to change it. don't take this as being overbearing, he is just very nervous and scared. and this is how he deals with it. he wants to be able to help if the slightest thing goes wrong.

that just doesn't always show in the most polite ways to the staff sometimes.

the look on his face when he hears his child cry for the first time, and holds them for the first time is so soft. like he has seen one of the most beautiful things in this whole world besides his wife. it even makes the doctors and the nurses think that dealing with his colorful temperament was worth it just to see that look on his face.

#genshin impact #fem!reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #husband scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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witchthewriter · 12 days ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤷ More of a WhatIf! situation...Requests are open, thank you for reading!🌷⋆.˚

a/n: this is too cute, thank you to anon who requested it!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

๋࣭⭑ 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✶⋆.˚

・Balerion the Black Dread is the most feared dragon in history, a creature of shadow and fire, destruction and legend.

・And yet, to his rider, he is not just a beast of war; he is a protector, a guardian, and the closest thing to a living god.

・Balerion is shockingly gentle.

・His rider is a speck of dust compared to his size

・If the child is scared or nervous, he’ll release deep, rumbling noises to calm them.

・His presence is felt rather than seen, a vast shadow always looming just beyond the horizon.

・If his rider whispers secrets to him, he listens, unblinking, as if understanding far more than any human could.

・Big Bad Balerion lets his rider climb onto his back, even when he does not take to the skies, walking through the land like a silent, unstoppable force.

・His rider sees what no one else does/what no one else can; the lands beyond the horizon, people below as ants, as meaningless...their lives so far away. His rider sees the world through a dragon’s eyes.

・He allows no one but them to touch his face, closing his great eyes when their small hands trace the scars time has left upon him.

・Balerion knows the sound of his rider's voice among thousands; even in a crowded battlefield, even in a storm.

・He will wait forever for them if he must.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Titan & The Tiny One

The Shadow That Follows

The Living Fortress

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒 ✶⋆.˚

・The bond was created because the little one had too much bravery. When they first met her, everyone warned them to stay back; after all, Meraxes was one of the greatest dragons in the world.

・But when the child approached, small and fearless, Meraxes simply lowered her enormous head and sniffed at them curiously.

・Placing their tiny hands against her shimmering silver scales, Meraxes was not angry in the slightest. She relished in the moment. A touch that felt profound. So, from that moment on, that little fierce child belonged to her.

・The bond with Meraxes is unbreakable, an odd but beautiful connection between a mighty dragon and a child who sees her not as a beast, but as family.

・Always watching, always protective. Knows who is around her rider and what their connection is to them

・No words are needed. She understands her rider, and her rider understand her.

・Does not refrain from showing respect because her rider is younger.

・She checks on her rider constantly; sniffing, nudging, and even wrapping her tail around them when they sleep so they don’t wander off.

・When they're upset, Meraxes rests her giant head beside them, letting the child lean against her as her slow breathing calms them down. ・If her rider ever cries, she licks at their face or nudges them softly, her way of trying to fix what’s wrong.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

My Baby Now

Loyal to the End

The Fierce Guardian with a Soft Spot

๋࣭⭑ 𝐕𝐇𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐑 ✶⋆.˚

・Vhagar has seen many things; countless wars, her own rider's deaths, kings rise and fall, and the passage of time itself. She is a creature of war and legend, she is not easily impressed, nor does she bend to anyone’s will.

・At first, she ignores them completely, pretending she didn’t hear their commands.

・But when the child reaches out a small hand, fearless and steady, Vhagar huffs, the warm gust ruffling their hair as they press their palm against her ancient scales.

・Vhagar does not coddle, but she watches. Always.

・The old girl keeps her distance at times, but she is never truly far, her looming shadow a constant presence.

・If anyone so much as raises their voice at her rider, her growl alone is enough to silence them.

・There is communication between Vhagar and her rider. She does not need words; just a flick of her tail, a deep exhale, a narrowed eye says everything.

・Flying Above the Storms – She takes her rider so high that the world disappears, the sky stretching endless and free. The storm rages on below, but neither notice.

・She snorts in amusement when her rider dares to stand tall, to challenge her with their stubborn little spirit. Sometimes she humours them; most times she does not.

・Whenever her rider falls asleep against her, their tiny form barely noticeable against her massive body, yet she stays perfectly still for hours.

・Vhagar has seen it all, but her rider reminds her that there is still wonder in the world, still reasons to fly.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Ancient Guardian & The Tiny Warrior

Terror to the World, Gentle to One

The Old Warrior & The Young Dreamer

๋࣭⭑ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐅𝐘𝐑𝐄 ✶⋆.˚

・Dreamfyre is curious and regal, her head tilting as she studies her tiny would-be rider.

・She does not simply accept anyone. And yet, when her rider reaches out with such quiet trust, Dreamfyre leans forward, allowing their hand to press against her cool, sky-colored scales.

・The second she breathes in their scent, the bond is sealed. Her rider is hers now, and always will be.

・"A baby!!!" She'd croon, ruffling her rider's hair with her breath.

・For many of these dragons, it is when they inhale a person's scent which makes them decide yes or no.

・Dreamfyre is deeply expressive—she chuffs softly when her rider is near, her way of saying "I see you. I know you."

・Very graceful in the air, always making sure her rider feels safe.

・She lets her rider play with her scales, allowing them to trace tiny patterns with their fingers.

・She nuzzles them softly when they wake up, a warm "good morning" before stretching her massive wings.

・She loves when her rider sings or hums, Dreamfyre joins in - tilting her head and releasing soft, accompanying rumbles.

・The blue dragon recognises her rider’s voice instantly, no matter where they are, and will always come when called.

・To the world, Dreamfyre is a legendary streak of blue across the sky. Yet, to her rider, she is theirs; their friend, their protector, family ... and a piece of the heavenss themselves.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Wings of Comfort, Fire of Fury

The Living Fairytale

A Love That Soars

๋࣭⭑ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 ✶⋆.˚

・"A.....CHILD?!"

・When his rider first approaches, he snorts, releasing a deep breath that stirs the air like a storm.

・But when the child steps forward without fear, he is impressed...as the young one reaches out with a steady hand, Vermithor lets out a low, rumbling growl. Testing to see what they do.

・With determination, the child looks old mountain in the eye. And as their hand touches Vermithor's snout, the bond snaps in place.

・Now the pair do staring contests all the time.

・It's Vermithor who loses mostly.

・Vermithor is colossal, his roars shake the ground, yet with his rider, he rumbles softly, lowering himself carefully so they can climb atop his back.

・He keeps a steady distance, watching from afar, yet the second his rider needs him, he is there in an instant.

・Vermithor does not (sometimes) start fights, but he will end them—and if anyone dares harm his rider, they will not survive his wrath.

・The Bronze Fury is BIG on naps and is more than happy to share them with his tiny human.

・He allows his rider to curl up on his wing, against his chest or even his neck. He will not move until his rider wakes.

・Sometimes he wraps the very tip of his tail around them, a subtle, instinctual way of keeping them close and protected.

・Though he is slow-moving and ancient, he does have a playful side.

・If his rider hugs him, he freezes at first, as if unsure what to do. Then, he very carefully leans into it, letting out a little tiny whine.

・His little rider tells him jokes they make up, and they make absolutely no sense but Vermithor gives a huff just so his rider thinks he's funny.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Ancient Titan & The Tiny Flame

A Bond of Trust, Not Submission

I Would Burn the World for You

๋࣭⭑ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶⋆.˚

・In her mind she's thinking, 'this is my baby, I'm gonna protect my baby no matter WHAT.'

・She’s the perfect dragon for a child because she loves company and comfort.

・The bonding happened so easily and without fuss. However, the rider did disappear from the family to go and bond with a dragon...

・When the young one reached out, there was no hesitation. Silverwing bent forward, allowing them to touch her.

・In the moment, she had let out a soft, deep hum. A sound of approval. She was riderless no more.

・Silverwing often nuzzles her rider’s hair, careful and slow, as if reassuring herself that they are safe. It also combines their scents. Letting everyone know that 1. Silverwing is bonded and 2. Her rider has the protection of a dragon.

・Very affectionate, lowering her head so her rider can press their forehead against hers.

・When her rider is sad or scared, she wraps her tail loosely around them, pulling them close like a mother comforting a hatchling.

・Honestly, if she could sing, she would. Like a little lullaby, but all she could make is a light hum.

・Loves to play! Whenever her rider feels energetic, she'll flap her wings just enough to create gusts of wind to make them laugh.

・If they’re nervous about flying, she nuzzles them gently, reassuring them before taking off.

・Unlike some dragons, Silverwing genuinely enjoys floating on a lake, allowing her rider to sit on her belly as she drifts peacefully.

・Silverwing is quiet but deeply attentive, her large eyes fixed on her rider as they chatter about their thoughts, dreams, or stories.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Moon & The Tide

Peaceful, But Deadly

The Guardian & The Dreamer

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐒 ✶⋆.˚

・Meleys is a proud dragon, but once she accepts someone as hers, she is devoted to them for life.

・Meleys is not easily impressed and does not accept riders without testing them first.

・If the child approaches with confidence, she does not move, however, if they show hesitation, she huffs and flicks her tail, testing their courage.

・When the young one touches Meleys' snout, and looks her in the eye; the dragon knows and the bond is formed.

・She huffs dramatically when they take too long to get ready for a flight, as if saying, "Hurry up, little one, we have places to be!"

・Meleys is strong-willed and does not take orders lightly, yet for her rider, she listens not out of submission, but out of deep affection.

・If her rider laughs, she lets out a high-pitched, chuffing sound, almost like a dragon’s version of a giggle.

・Meleys is dramatic in the most regal way possible—she will huff, flick her tail, or turn her head away if she feels ignored.

・She loves having her scales brushed, especially if her rider does it while talking to her.

・When she is flying at full speed, she lets out excited, high-pitched chirps, as if celebrating her own agility.

・If she sees another dragon being affectionate with their rider, she immediately nudges her own, as if to remind them who the best dragon is.

・Despite her fearsome reputation, Meleys has a surprising fondness for tiny creatures.

・If a small animal tries to hide under her wing, she freezes completely and allows it, looking down at her rider as if to say, "Well, what do I do now?"

・Meleys enjoys wandering and flying freely, but no matter how far she goes, she always comes back to her rider.

・

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Queen & Her Little Shadow

A Bond of Speed & Freedom

Fire & Beauty

๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒 ✶⋆.˚

・Caraxes is not easily impressed, and at first, he snarls and flares his wings

・But instead of running away, his rider stands firm, reaching out with small but steady hands.

・He narrows his great golden eyes, lowers his head, and nudges them experimentally—just enough to see if they will flinch.

・When they don’t, he lets out a sharp, approving huff, allowing them to touch his deep red scales.

・He is loud but loving, intense yet deeply affectionate, and fiercely protective of the small human he has claimed as his own.

・He has fought countless battles, but this tiny human? He would burn the world down for them.

・And loves it when he can hear the little one yell, "FASTER FASTER FASTER!"

・If someone makes his rider cry, he reacts immediately, nostrils flaring as he lowers his head to glare at the offender.

・He loves rubbing the top of his snout against his rider’s hands, chest, or face, the dragon equivalent of a cat headbutting their favorite person.

・Birds love landing on his horns, and while he acts indifferent, he never shakes them off.

・Influences his rider to become more aggressive when they're being bullied

・Caraxes lets his rider climb onto his back in ridiculous (and stupid) ways, even if they struggle and take forever. He allows them to be ... a kid.

・He loves when they scratch his jaw or the base of his horns—he rumbles so deeply that it shakes the ground.

・If his rider ever gets lost, he lets out a high, piercing roar, calling for them until they return.

・Caraxes is extremely vocal—his rider quickly learns the difference between his huffs, growls, whines, and deep rumbles.

・He loves being spoken to—his rider can talk for hours, and he will tilt his head, blinking slowly, as if truly listening.

・He is grumpy if they don’t say good morning to him first.

・If they try to be sneaky and leave without him noticing, he immediately catches them, blocking their path with his tail.

・If they’re sitting on the ground, he rests his massive head beside them, staring with his sharp golden eyes as if expecting them to entertain him.

・A very, VERY jealous being. Caraxes does not like when his rider spends too much time with other dragons.

・If another dragon roars at his rider? Immediate retaliation. No one gets to intimidate his human.

・When his rider sighs in frustration, he mimics them with an exaggerated snort. When the rider notices and folds their arms, Caraxes pretends like he didn't do a thing.

・He hates waiting—if he is kept waiting too long, he lets out small puffs of flame, just enough to be dramatic.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Loud, Chaotic, and Full of Love

The Fierce Warrior & The Tiny Braveheart

The Overprotective Guardian

๋࣭⭑ 𝐒𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐗 ✶⋆.˚

・Syrax is highly selective of who she allows near her, yet when she first meets her rider, there is no hesitation.

・Syrax treats her rider like one of her own hatchlings, keeping them close, shielding them with her wings, and always making sure they are safe.

・This also means, they'll be able to grow up together. Since Syrax isn't very old herself.

・She is exceptionally careful around her rider, moving slowly, making sure her wings do not knock them over.

・Syrax rumbles softly whenever her rider touches her, it is a deep soothing sound that makes the ground vibrate and her rider giggle.

・She often presses her forehead against them, a sign of deep trust and affection.

・Syrax moves with grace and fluidity, twirling through the clouds in ways that make her rider laugh with joy.

・Loves when her rider runs up to her with open arms

・"We're going for a ride Syrax!" And the yellow dragon would let out a little noise in celebration

・Syrax loves spending time with her rider because she loves listening to court gossip

・And everytime she sees her rider there's a new present for her

・Sunbathing together! Syrax adores basking in the sun, and she always makes room for her rider to lie beside her on her massive wing.

・She is always listening for their voice; no matter where they are, she will hear them call her name.

・Unlike her more aggressive kin, Syrax worries about her rider. She checks on them constantly, making sure they are safe, fed, and warm.

・When waiting for food, she taps her claws rhythmically against the ground, the dragon equivalent of impatiently tapping fingers on a table.

・Syrax is not just a beast of war; she is a queen of the skies, a guardian, a mother at heart. And for her rider, she is all these things at once.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Golden Guardian

No One Touches the Little One

The Dragon Who Cares Too Much

๋࣭⭑ 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 ✶⋆.˚

・Beautiful Seasmoke is graceful, swift, and playful, one of the most agile and intelligent dragons of his time.

・While he is skilled in war, he is also gentler than many of his kin, making him a perfect match for a young, adventurous rider.

・He is as mischievous as he is protective, nudging his rider toward fun but always watching carefully to keep them safe.

・Which brings me to the ultimate headcanon: Big Brother energy

・"Seasmoke, today I learnt more words in High Valyrian!"

"Hell yeah you did lil dude!" (Comes out as a roar, obviously)

・Huffs warm air over them in the morning, a gentle wake-up call that is more effective than any alarm clock.

・Seasmoke is naturally curious, and the first time he sees his rider, he doesn’t roar or threaten—he watches, head tilted in intrigue.

・Seasmoke is extremely touchy for a dragon, constantly nudging, headbutting, and wrapping his tail around his rider. Especially shows this when he's around people he doesn't like, when he's bored and wants to go for a fly etc.

・He loves flipping his wings suddenly while his rider walks nearby just to send a gust of wind their way and make them laugh.

・If his rider ever trips or falls, he immediately lowers his snout, nudging them gently as if saying, "Up, little one."

・Seasmoke chitters and warbles a lot, making soft sounds of excitement whenever he sees his rider (that's a lie, sometimes he screeches in happiness)

・He’s an expert at blending into fog, and sometimes, he plays a game where he vanishes into the mist, only to reappear behind his rider with a playful growl (this TERRIFIES onlookers)

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Free Spirit & Their Loyal Dragon

The Playful Protector

Two Halves of One Soul

๋࣭⭑ 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐎𝐍 ✶⋆.˚

・Drogon is fierce, untamed, and utterly relentless. A creature born of fire and destruction, feared across the world.

・But to his rider, he is something different.

・His bond with them is absolute, forged in trust, protectiveness, and something almost possessive.

・'This I Will Defend' mentality.

・His protective instincts go into overdrive once the bond is in place

・Both are chaotic and want to set fire to everything. The rider has to be given a talk by their parents that they cannot do that.

・He is not just a guardian—he is a shadow over their shoulder, a fire in the dark, a force of nature that bends to no one but them.

・To the world, Drogon is death with wings, but for his rider, he lowers his massive head so they can pat his snout with tiny hands.

・He allows no one to touch or speak harshly to his rider without a deep, warning growl vibrating through his chest.

・This lets his rider get away with a lot of things aka saying the word 'no' can only be done if Drogon is not within ear-reach

・Drogon drops food at their feet, as if expecting them to eat like him. He doesn’t understand why humans insist on cooking things first.

・Drogon has no concept of personal space, and his rider is always warm whether they like it or not.

・Drogon loves to sprawl in the sun, wings half-open, scales shimmering in the light. It always makes his rider laugh, as he rolls around on his back like a big ol' pup

・If anyone tries to disturb nap time, Drogon lifts his wing slightly and growls just enough to scare them off.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Fire and Fury for the One I Love

The Monster and Their Tiny Human

You Are Mine, and I Am Yours

๋࣭⭑ 𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐋 ✶⋆.˚

・"Umm, what do I do with it?"

・Rhaegal is thinking his rider is a meek thing but as soon as they are face to face, Rhaegal is given orders.

・Quickly becomes proud of his rider, letting them take control and learn on their own.

・He only steps in when he thinks they need help (he knows they will never ask for help)

・Rhaegal is not a dragon who takes orders easily, but if his rider asks him to do something, he obeys without hesitation.

・If his little child rider ever wanders off, he follows at a distance, making sure they're safe without hovering too much. He guides them carefully, using his tail or wing to steer them away from danger.

・When his little rider is asleep against his side, Rhaegal wraps a wing around them, keeping them warm and protected.

・Rhaegal LOVES cool rivers and lakes, and sometimes he lets his rider splash him playfully while he watches with amusement.

・Rhaegal likes to 'hunt' gifts for his rider. So he'll bring them shiny rocks, feathers, or small bones, dropping them proudly at their feet.

・To him, the rider is his hatchling, his most precious treasure, and nothing in the world will ever harm them as long as he lives.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Only One He Listens To

The Quiet Guardian

A Bond That Needs No Words

๋࣭⭑ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✶⋆.˚

・Oh my beloved Viserion.

・You just know that the bond would be so precious and delicate.

・He could crush his rider in an instant, yet he lowers his head so the little one can pat his snout or curl up against his warm scales.

・Vissy would definitely be upset that he couldn't sleep in his rider's room. And vice versa.

・The pale dragon loves when his rider gives him affection. Pets are good, Scratches are better.

・If he were small, he'd spend all day wrapped around his rider's neck. Sometimes he'd sleep, most of the time he'd be content just to be close to his little friend.

・When flying, Viserion is always conscientious of his rider. He doesn't want to hurt them in any way.

・If someone even raises their voice at the little rider? Viserion growls low, golden eyes locked onto the offender until they back away.

・He often circles around his rider, keeping his tail close like a barrier. No one gets near without his approval.

・The moment he senses they might be cold, he instinctively wraps his body around them, sharing his warmth like a living furnace.

・Although Viserion cannot pur, he does it in his dragon version; rumbling in a deep, soothing way

・If his rider is ever upset? He nudges them gently with his snout, blowing warm air over them in a silent gesture of comfort.

・The child rides him before anyone else does. No saddle, no commands; just pure trust.

・He’s extremely playful; flicking snow at his rider with his tail, letting them ‘chase’ him in a game of tag, always careful never to move too fast.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Gentle Giant x Tiny Companion

You’re My Hatchling Now

The Only One Who Understands Him

𝒈𝒊𝒇/𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕:

@drogonthered

@ariesfusion

@daenerys-stormborn

@onyxstorms

YokSArt on ig

Tuğce Karaburçak

irises.art on ig

eiobya on ig

@eiralune on X

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lady-ashfade · 2 years ago

Text

Bound By Birth

The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.

Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.

Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!

Aemond Targaryen

As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.

From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.

We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.

Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.

Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.

But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.

No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.

Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.

He swears one day he would protect you.

Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.

When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.

But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.

Female twin:

Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.

Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.

He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.

After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.

Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.

Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.

Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.

Male twin

Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.

When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.

When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.

Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.

He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.

You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.

He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.

Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.

You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.

Lucerys Velaryon

As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.

Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.

I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.

Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.

He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.

When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.

Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.

He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.

Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone.

He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.

He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.

He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.

Male twin:

He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.

He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.

You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.

You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.

Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.

Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.

But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.

Female reader.

Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.

Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.

Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.

Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.

Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.

Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”

Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.

You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.

Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.

Jacaerys Velaryon

He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.

Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.

He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.

Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.

Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.

He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.

Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.

“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”

Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.

Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.

Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.

Older him is just as bad if not more.

Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.

Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.

Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.

He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.

But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.

Male twin

You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.

From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.

Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.

Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.

After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.

Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.

You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like

“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”

Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.

Matching outfits with you.

Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.

Female twin

Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.

Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.

Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.

Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.

Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.

Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.

While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.

He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.

Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.

He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.

Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.

#lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #yandere #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #Lucerys Velaryon x reader #yandere Lucerys Velaryon #yandere Lucerys Velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #yandere Jacaerys Velaryon #yandere Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #Aemond Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #yandere Aemond Targaryen #yandere aemond targaryen x reader

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souliebird · 4 months ago

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 28]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k 🌶️

ao3 link

Sometimes, Matt forgets what it feels like to be happy.

His life has been tragedy after tragedy, many of his own making, and more than once it had been overwhelming. He remembers all too well the feeling of gravel in his knees as he begged for Death to come to him. He will never stop having nightmares about choking on ash and dust as his world collapses around him. His hands will always have blood on them.

But when you smile at him - really, truly smile - all of those memories fade into the background. They get banished to who knows where and he’s enveloped in this lightness he can’t explain. Nothing else in the world matters to him but you.

You, and how your hand goes up to try to hide your mouth, like you are too scared to let anyone see you have emotions.

You, and how breathy your voice gets when you are trying to not laugh.

You, and how your heart has calmed from jack rabbiting everywhere from just being near him to the steady rhythm he daydreams about.

You bring him this sense of peace he does not understand and all he wants in life is to do the same for you.

Love does not begin to describe what he feels for you.

He loved (loves) Elektra.

He loved (loves) Karen.

He belongs to you - body, spirit, and mind.

He would deny God and worship only at your altar for the remainder of Eternity if you even gave the hint, you wanted as much.

He would lay down his gloves and armor if that is what you wished for.

He would turn and walk away from Hell’s Kitchen if you led him elsewhere.

In such a short time, your Light has wrapped itself around him and he oh so willingly let himself be consumed. You make him want to be Better.

He wants to be a Better person, a Better fighter, a Better protector, a Better lawyer, a Better friend, a Better lover, a Better father. He wants to be Better because only then - maybe - could he possibly deserve an ounce of what you give him.

You have built so many walls around your heart that it scares him. He has a feeling you will never let him know why those walls are there or who so thoroughly broke you that you need them, but it does not matter to him. He understands, more than anyone, that they exist for a reason, and he is going to systematically tear through every single one.

He doesn’t care how slowly and methodically he has to chip away at them. He is going to savor every victory, because it is one millimeter closer to you.

Taking you out to dinner was something he was prepared to wait months for, but a unique opportunity presented itself and he decided it was worth the risk of you saying ‘no’.

But now you are sitting across from him, tucked into a corner of one of the most glamorous restaurants in the city, giggling into your palm while he tells you about one of his college adventures.

“What happened next?” you ask in an excited whisper.

His lips turn up into a mischievous grin as he concludes his story, “We were locked out on the roof all night. We managed to flag someone down in the morning, but the damage was done. I took the fall - the poor blind man got turned around and went up the wrong staircase and his nice friend went looking for him, so they didn’t press any charges, but the professor tore us a new one. Foggy refused to drink red wine for at least ten years after.”

Your body sings with laughter and Matt feels himself puff up in Pride. Your disposition is night and day from earlier in the evening - you had been stiff, and he could literally taste the anxiety rolling off you in waves. You had been hunched in and quiet. It had been a task for him to delicately untangle your nerves, but he had accomplished his goal, and his reward was your hand on top of the table, just a breath away from his own.

He is playing it slow, though.

As much as he wants to touch you - any part of you - he knows better than to push for anything. He’s asked so much of you tonight and he is not going to ruin it all by making you uncomfortable with a bold display of public affection such as hand holding.

“You are lucky it wasn’t snowing,” you comment as you go for the last sip of your wine. “You could have frozen to death.”

He gives a nonchalant half shrug, “we are not above huddling together for warmth, and it isn’t like Foggy and I haven’t shared a bed before.” He pauses, then just to soothe any worry you might have, adds, “Plus, I would have gotten us back in long before then. The building was only four stories, so it would have been easy to scale down, break in, and go unlock the door without tipping Fog off. He was that drunk.”

You exhale through your nose in a way he knows you are making a cute little pouting face. “He didn’t know?”

There’s a hint of confusion and caution in the question and Matt decides he’ll never get over how carefully you tread around certain topics. The hesitancy leaves him the option to explain or dismiss and it is something he cherishes about you.

The subject of his secrecy with his abilities with regards to his best friend isn’t something he likes to think about. It hurt both of them and the ripples of the aftermath can still be felt, but Matt won’t let that ache out, so he replies with the simple truth, “No one did.”

A soft hum escapes your throat, and he expects a follow up akin to ‘that must have been lonely’ or some other sentiment. So, of course, you go in a different direction.

“I don’t think I could climb down the side of a building.”

He chuckles at your musing and the way your Light once again chases off his ever-present dark thoughts. “No?”

You hum again in affirmative, and your lips give the slightest pop as they go up into a smile, “I was never a big jungle gym person. I don't remember the last time I climbed anything. There was a rock wall at the ESU gym I wanted to try, but they were so understaffed I didn’t want to bother them.”

Before he can comment about his experience with rock walls, the heavy thud of worn leather loafers enters into the mental perimeter he has made around the table, signaling the approach of someone.

Your hand slides off the table and away from his.

“I see the tarta de queso was the correct choice,” the front of house manager says, amusement clear in his thick New Jersey accent. Matt can tell he's been in the restaurant business for a long time - his movements are smooth as he clears the dishes from the table and the smell of garlic has seeped into his skin. Surprisingly, he doesn't reek of cigarettes or weed - a strong odor most fine dining workers carry. It is something he appreciates.

Matt had enjoyed his meal. The food was not only delicious - it was clean. The chef runs a tight kitchen. He had heard it when he had checked in to see when food would be coming out. There is no cross contamination on the knives and plates are thoroughly rinsed. He couldn't even taste the soap on the forks.

“It was perfect. And so pretty,” you say, your voice taking on a polite and pleasant tone. He's noticed that you adopt it whenever you are talking to a service worker. It's sweet.

“It was amazing,” he agrees quickly.

The man gives a hardy laugh, “Good, good. Now, would you like one more glass of wine? Maybe an after-dinner drink or coffee? Something to go? We have some albondigas that reheat in the microwave beautifully.”

Matt defers to you and your hair bounces as you shake your head, “I think I am at my limit. Everything was absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much.”

Another waiter slips into the perimeter and silently relieves the front of house manager of plates and wine glasses, leaving the man with the ability to clap his hands together. “The pleasure was all mine. Mister Murdock and his guests are welcome back anytime, our treat. Just give us a call and let us know, we will have a table for you.”

It is his turn to thank the man, and he does so, adding, “That is too kind of you.”

“Nonsense! It is the least we could do for you,” the man declares, and Matt’s neck heats up just a little. The daughter of the owner had gotten into some hot water, and he had been able to keep her out of jail. “Now! I will leave you two lovebirds be, but you let me know if you change your mind about that coffee.”

He quite literally bows out and Matt directs his full focus back to you.

All of the signals he is getting indicate you are as pleased as he is with how your night is going. He can guess you have a shy little smile with how your head is ever so slightly ducked and he wonders if you’re looking at him through your lashes. He can practically feel your gaze dancing over his features. A certain tang is starting to hit his palette that gets his blood pumping and he all but starts to salivate.

He can’t hold back the slight growl in his voice when he asks, “Want to get out of here?”

Your body gives him the reaction he wants, and he is quick to stand and offer you his arm. You get up rather gracefully - Matt thinks you are hyper aware of your movements, and you want to look composed in such an elegant restaurant - and take hold of his bicep. It is the opposite of how you usually walk, but you have no trouble leading him through the winding tables and out onto the sidewalk. The change in temperature gives you a shiver and instinctively, you press closer.

He wants to pull you flush, to get his hands on the silk he’s draped your curves in, but he reminds himself to behave.

You turn to face him, hand still on his sleeve. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth as you work up the nerve to say whatever you are going to. He is, of course, patient and lets you fret and fuss for a few seconds.

“Do you,” you start, barely above a whisper and as sweet and thick as honey, “want to get a cab back to your place?”

He had had more plans to woo you, but they are tossed away as soon as the words leave your lips. He wants nothing more than your suggestion and tells you as much before moving to flag down the nearest car. Given the popularity of the venue, it takes all but a second. He slides in behind you and gives the cabbie his address.

His apartment is only a few blocks away, but that's far too many for you to walk in your gown.

And Matt wants to get there as fast as possible.

The ride is silent as can be, but far from uneventful. Like it is a continuation from dinner, both his hand and yours end up on the seat between you. He tries to remain calm and collected, but his heart pounds in his chest like he is a teenager as he stretches his pinky out to brush against yours. Your breath catches in your throat and arousal courses through you so quickly it makes his head spin and his dick jump to attention.

So hesitantly, like the cabbie is going to turn around and start chastising you for being so scandalous, you link your finger with his. He doesn’t even try to fight the smile that takes over his face. His boyish excitement must be contagious - you’re biting at your lips again and your face radiates heat.

He is quick to take the lead for the next step, not even thinking as he turns your hand and laces your fingers with his. They fit together perfectly - and like the lovesick puppy he is, he can’t resist the cliche hand squeeze.

Apparently, you are just as cheesy as he is, because your hand clenches around his just a millisecond faster.

It is hours or minutes or days of your Light wrapping around Matt’s mind before the cab rolls up in front of his apartment and he is paying for the ride. He refuses to let go of you as you both leave the car, and he doesn’t wait for it to pull away before he’s leading you to the building’s door.

The dynamic shifts once you cross the threshold.

It is only a few steps in until you are in front of the elevator and Matt expertly pivots so he is behind you once the call button is pressed. He no longer has to hold back - there is no one around and cameras do not exist in this building. His hands go to your waist, and he tangles his fingers into the silk of your dress. It’s still cool to the touch and slides over his skin like water. His hands smooth up your body just a fraction - hitching your dress up so it no longer touches the ground.

He pulls you back, so you are flush to his chest and it is a step back you eagerly take. As he ducks his head to latch his lips to your pulse point, you let yours fall to the side, giving him so much more access. He doesn’t waste this gift - this offering - and he leaves his first mark of the night.

Your body weeps for him. If the salt from your skin wasn’t coating his tongue, the tart flavor of your arousal would be. He can hear the way your cunt flexes and clenches around nothing, and he silently promises he won’t leave you empty for much longer. You are not the only one eager and he needs to get his fix before he spends the rest of the night taking you apart.

Luckily, Foggy has agreed to babysit until one in the morning, so Matt has plenty of time to savor you.

Under his tongue, you struggle to not moan. Your control is too tight to allow that in public, but once you are in his bed, he is going to make you hoarse. The catches in your throat are the best kind of tease.

You breathe his name just as the elevator slides open. He urges you forward and follows without letting up his kissing. He goes up your neck until he can nip at your earlobe, and you melt even more under his touch.

“Sixth floor,” he whispers, not wanting to let go of you to reach for the buttons. It takes you a moment to act and you are a bit clumsy with pressing the right floor, but it doesn’t matter. The doors close and Matt has you in his arms.

His hands wander over your hips and belly - he can't get enough of you and the way your skin sounds against the fabric is like music to his ears. All he wants to do is touch you.

You press your hips back, so your ass rubs against him enticingly. He’s long since hard and the intentional friction makes his brain short circuit for a split second - it takes everything to not grind into you or pin you to the elevator wall.

Your hands find his and you oh so gently drag your nails over his knuckles while also applying pressure to his wrist with the heel of your hand. He takes it as a sign you want more, and he spreads his fingers as wide as he can to drag over your hips.

“I need my cock in you,” he breaths into your ear. You shudder and barely hold back a whine. “I need to feel you cum for me, just from that. Then I’m going to lay you out and get my fill of that perfect pussy of yours until you can’t say anything but my name. Then,” he promises, letting his voice get ragged and lower in octave, “I’m going to flip you over and mount you like I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”

“Matt..” you choke on his name, and he takes a moment to admire that you are managing to stay composed. It’s holding on by a string, but you are not giving him the satisfaction of turning you into a mess.

Yet.

The elevator finally reaches the correct floor and creaks open. You move practically as one as you both hurry out of the elevator. He hates he has to let go of you to get the keys from his pocket, but he has enough practice he doesn’t fumble with them to get the door open.

He doesn’t know who does what first once inside - all he knows is his mouth is on yours before the lock clicks shut and your hands are in his hair. You’re up against the door and it is him producing the needy noises as he ruts against you.

All of your shyness and hesitancy is gone in the privacy of his apartment. You are as hungry for him as he is for you, and it is him who has to break the kiss to be able to breathe. You start to push at his suit jacket, but he won’t allow it - instead he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

“Not yet,” he hums. The last of the blood in his head doesn’t let him forget that he has one last thing to do before he can take you to bed.

You pout but don’t complain, and he rewards that by lacing his fingers with yours once again. He guides you from the entrance hallway and towards his bedroom, walking backwards the entire way so he remains facing you. The click of your heels echo and with each step, his cock twitches with desire.

His bedroom has a new addition that he leads you to - a mirror. He’s propped it on his dresser just for this occasion. He understands your confusion as he positions himself behind you, but you play along with his game, not questioning his intentions.

He lets go of your hands to smooth them up your arms, to your shoulders, then the back of your dress. The zipper glides down smoothly and with a little urging from him, the gown drops from your figure to pile on the ground, leaving you in just your heels and panties.

Lace panties he had purchased and snuck into the garment bag that dress had come in. He would have bought you shoes as well, but he didn’t know your size.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you comment, but Matt can hear how you don’t actually care about that. Your blood is thrumming, and your slick has started to creep out of its confines and down your leg.

“Patience, my darling.”

You have on earrings - dangly things that tinkle with every movement of your head. He has little practice removing such things and he is lucky they are hooks he can slide out instead of complicated studs he’s heard Karen complain about. Again, you don’t question him, only tilting your head to help him when you realize what he is doing. He sets them and his glasses on the dresser before he gently taps his shoe against your heels. That is all the instruction you need, and you step out of them.

The last thing is your panties. As much as he wants to rip them off with his teeth, that is not the plan for the night. He ghosts his hands down your sides before he hooks his thumbs at their hem and lets them fall to be with the dress.

His blood pounds in his ears as he reaches into his coat pocket. The box nestled inside is small, fitting in the palm of his hand, and he keeps it out of your view as he pulls it out. His fingers may or may not shake as he opens the box and removes the delicate chain hidden inside.

The inhale you take and the way you still as he drapes the necklace around your throat tells him everything he needs to know. Lightning is dancing up and down you as goosebumps cover your skin and he doesn’t need to taste the salt in the air to know there are tears starting to gather in your eyes.

He clasps the necklace close, then lets his hands fall so they can wrap around your waist. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and simply states, “You are beautiful.”

The necklace is a single, tear shaped pendant about the size of his fingernail, hanging from a thin chain. According to the jeweler, the gemstone is a deep red ruby. It is simple and elegant.

You hold your breath as you reach up to touch it. Your eyes are fixed on the mirror, and he can tell your lips are parted in shock as you examine yourself. He takes advantage of your distraction to kiss your shoulder.

“Will you wear this for me?” he asks with his voice.

‘Will you let me love you’ is what his heart means.

He tries to not panic when you don’t respond. He knows that your cheeks are now wet, and he Prays he did not get his signals wrong. This may have been a step too much - you might not yet be ready for this.

His doubt is vanquished as you swirl around and kiss him with everything you have.

He gets undressed in record time - you work his pants while he shrugs off his jacket and yanks his dress shirt over his head, not bothering to deal with the buttons. Soon enough you are both nude and stumbling into the bed.

Matt lets you direct him onto his back, and he reaches for the drawer of his bedside table while you crawl on top of him. It is your turn to kiss his neck and shoulders, adding in bites and scrapes of your teeth as he all but rips a condom out of its packaging. He knows you aren’t on birth control yet - and as much as he wants to fill you to the brim with his seed, he also knows pregnancy isn’t something you want in your near future.

He barely gets the protection on before your perfect heat is surrounding him. You throw your head back, shameless in your moaning as you sink down onto him.

He nearly cums from just that.

You plant your hands on his chest, nails dragging wonderfully down his skin, and begin to ride him like you were meant for it. He had wanted to fuck you into the mattress, but if this is what you want, he has no room to complain. His hands find your waist and he digs his fingers in, wanting to leave bruises as he keeps you steady on his cock.

“Take what you want, sweetheart, I’m yours. I’m yours,” he encourages. “Ride my cock.”

You squeeze around him, your body already so close to release. He needs you to chase it. “I’ve been thinking about it,” you pant as you grind your cunt on him, “been wanting this. Wanting you. Needing you.”

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, baby. Tell me what you want.”

He gets his feet planted so he can start meeting your rolls and his hands can no longer stay still. One goes down so he can rub at your already swollen and soaking clit and the other jumps to your breast. Your nipple is pebbled under his thumb, and he pinches at it, making you keen.

“Wanna…Matt..want this.”

You are far too focused on bouncing on him to get out words and he doesn’t mind one bit - he’ll get you to tell him your desires at some point. He has all night to coax it out.

You claw at him as your core begins to tighten and Matt puts himself to work. He becomes so easily lost in you - your skin on his, your taste in his mouth, your sweet noises drowning out everything else except the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you. He wants his mouth on you, but you’ve got him pinned as you use him for support and leverage. You are starting to shake, and he takes up any slack in your riding by increasing his thrusts.

Your nails pierce his skin as your cunt begins to squeeze and pulse around him and, even with a condom, it sends him tumbling over the edge with you.

He doesn’t white out, but he misses when you collapse onto him, because the next thing he knows, you’re nuzzling into his neck with a pleased hum. He returns the noise as he brushes his nose and lips over the crown of your head.

“Don’t wanna move,” you mumble against him, and Matt finds himself agreeing. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and greedily keeping all of your weight on him.

“We can stay here as long as you want, darling. I’m yours.”

With the smallest movement, you turn your face to hide against him and breathe out words he’s sure he’s not actually meant to hear.

“You’re mine.”

((“I love you.”))

---

im not dead anymore

tag list:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @astridstark13 @hashcakes

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday @midnightwonderlan

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal

@allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #and then i met you #matt murdock x you

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hayw1res · 8 months ago

Note

Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Anton, Ben, Wise, and Lycaon being stuck in close proximity with his GN crush please?

♡﹒﹒ 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 !

𝅄; synopsis: HC , getting a little too close for comfort ft Anton, Ben, Wise and Von Lycaon

𝅄; warnings: none! , fluff, flirting , humor , GN! Reader

𝅄; a/n: ill be answering my requests more frequently now! if you sent a request earlier don’t worry i will be posting those soon as well! also i dont know much about Anton so sorry if hes a bit ooc! not proofread

You and Anton were pretty close friends at this point and often would run errands together for Koleda or Grace, today was just one of those days. You were taking spare parts to another company , Anton accompanied you of course. You made it to the first floor of the large building, the elevator was just a bit too small for the two of you especially due to his rather muscular build. It was a bit of tight squeeze up almost 13 floors..

the damn elevator was so cramped you swore you could feel the rise and fall of Antons chest with how close you were to him, how on EARTH was this thing certified? “Kinda..cramped in here isn’t it?” Anton spoke quietly, you were in close proximity after all. You looked up at him the best you could, but you could only laugh.. “What’s so funny—eh..” Anton looked down at you, your pretty eyes stared up at his and that’s when he realized just how close you two were, how his height compared to yours and just how pretty you looked from this angle.. so much so that he didn’t even hear you.

“Anton—Anton??” You called out to him, confused as to why he was just..looking at you? Anton snapped out of his trance and laughed awkwardly “WOW this elevator is slow isn’t it—doesn’t even feel like we’re goin anywhere” Surely he played that off cool enough. You snicker- “Anton I was telling you to push the button.. we haven’t moved.” Anton almost choked on his breath, turning to the array of buttons to see that he in fact.. did not push the button to the 13th floor..and you hadn’t been moving this whole time.

“I..I knew that.” He pushed the button to finally get you guys going, you could only smile at his cute demeanor..

“Course you did.”

Ben probably has saved your life in the Hollows more than once at this point, he was intimidating and sometimes just his presence alone would scare off anyone bothering you, you truly felt comfortable and happy around him more than anyone..though you didn’t actually know his underlying feelings for you just yet. Unlike everyone else.. So when you get sent off on “special” requests for Koleda- you never question her knowing smirk.

you and Ben just left on another small “mission” for Koleda, just to retrieve some item from the Hollow? You didnt fully understand what she needed, or why she needed you two to go alone specifically- but you never questioned her judgement ! Ben was pretty much your guard…bear? while you searched around the Hollow in search for the missing item. Ben just honestly loved seeing you run around freely with no problems, of course you could fend for yourself but..nothing made him feel better than knowing that he was your protector and you relied on him for that.

“Ben! Think I found something here- down there!” You called to him as you leaned over the bar overhead a pretty dastardly fall- Ben walked over to you, worried that you may fall over.. “Careful there y/n…” He said softly as he stood behind you, and boy was his intuition right. Almost as soon as he said that you could feel yourself lose balance and almost fall down , if it wasn’t for large arms immediately grabbing you and pulling you back, down with him..

“Are you okay?! You had me nervous there you know—“ Ben panicked , his eyes finally opening to you sitting almost completely on his lap, fixing your hair from the tumble..you were so cute, you looked..perfect. “Ah—sorry Ben I got too excited again didnt I” You chuckle and make eye contact with him. The position you were in.. his arms still protectively around your waist and your hands on his chest. You both didnt speak, but after a few seconds you finally see it..

“…Thirens can blush?” You tease, his cheeks in fact had a pinkish red tint to them , you found it adorable.. in fact, you found A LOT about the bear pretty cute for someone so intimidating and strong.. “Well don’t just sit and stare..lets hurry up so we can get home and maybe test that theory?” You stand on your own feet now, and before Ben could..he swore his cheeks burned harder.

Wise loved having you around when he and Belle did any proxy duties, you were not only great help around the store but you also hung out with the two of them as a close friend. On days when the two weren’t busy with commissions you usually would help out with whatever they needed- and occasionally go out with Belle or Wise when they needed to drop things off or maybe pick some things up. Today you went to the video store with Wise to pick up some new dvd’s for the store, the manager told you two about a few great movies they had in stock but unfortunately couldn’t reach, that was no problem for you two! It was just down the dark and creepy basement..

You and Wise crept down the dark room, only a flashlight in hand. Wise walked beside you , he laughed a bit at your nervousness- he found it adorable how at every creak you would slightly jump back. It wasn’t a hard search , just not a preferable one. “Wiseee come on.. its cold and creepy down here” You groaned as you held the light up for him as he searched through crates. “Yeah dont worry.. just hold it still okay?” He said back, holding back his grin.You swore he was moving slow on purpose , you almost completely lost it and ran back upstairs- the creepy factor increased with every passing second..

Wise was just about to turn with the few movies he found when he heard you shriek- he could barely react when you practically leapt into him! You surely weren’t thinking clearly and Wise was the only warm body around so.. to no surprise you went to him when you heard something fall behind you. You didn’t open your eyes until you felt his arms wrap around you, you looked up at him as you realize what just happened.. and there was that shit eating grin on his face, “Well if you wanted me to hold you..you could’ve just asked” He teased, his smirk turning to a fond smile as he felt you relax slightly in his arms. “Just—get the movies and lets go..” You mumble as you pull away , he nodded at you and took your hand this time, so you “wouldn’t get scared again”.

Victoria Housekeeping was like a second family to you at this point, you weren’t a maid/butler at all but that didnt stop you from occasionally running with them into Hollows when they time needed, and this was one of those times. Luckily when you all split up to escape a rather large and dangerous crowd of ethereals , you ran with Von Lycaon.. the tall handsome wolf thiren. You knew with him by your side, you wouldn’t have to worry much.

“This way- quickly now.” He called to you as you both ran around the corner of what was like an abandoned school building, with Lycaon quick movement and sharp turns it was hard to keep up. He noticed this and decided it would be best for you two to hide. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into a supply closet nearby, though it ws quick thinking..he didnt take into account that it would be a rathe small and tight fit. You were quickly pressed against his chest as his arms came up above you to make at least some room..

“A-Apologies .. this is a rather odd position” He said calmly but the way he avoided eye contact made you think twice.. you and Lycaon had some small moments here and there that would be labeled as harmless flirting , but this felt different. “Im enjoying the view” You were quick to reply, your laugh caused the wolf to scoff a bit “Focus..” He mumbled .. but you could feel his tail increase in speed just a little after that comment..

#smut writer #von lycaon #anton zzz #ben bigger #wise zzz #zzz lycaon #zzz ben #zzz x reader #zzz #zzzero #zzz fanfic #zzz headcanons #zenless zone zero x reader #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero lycaon #requests open #𖦹⠀⠀ ˖ haywires ! ~

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reidsworld · 7 months ago

Text

The Time We Have

Summary: Logan struggles with the fear of dying and leaving Laura alone, but meeting you helps him find peace. Set in an AU where Logan does not die at the end of Logan (2017).

Paring: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Category: Angst, Fluff

Content Warnings: Talks of death.

Word Count: 1.4k

Mars speaks… gif is from pinterest!

Masterlist

Logan’s knuckles ache, the bones beneath his skin creaking with every movement as if they’re finally giving in to the wear of time. It’s a pain that never quite leaves him anymore, a constant reminder that his body is failing him, betraying him in ways he never thought possible. He’s lived more lifetimes than most, fought more battles than he can count, and somehow, it’s this—this slow, inevitable decay—that feels like the cruelest blow of all.

He’s not afraid of dying. That’s never been something that scared him. He’s seen it too many times, come too close to it on too many occasions, to feel anything other than a resigned acceptance when he thinks about the end. But this… this slow, agonising decline is something different. It’s not the swift, clean death he always imagined for himself, the kind that comes in battle, in the heat of the moment. No, this is something that eats away at him bit by bit, until there’s nothing left but a shadow of the man he used to be.

And that scares him. Not the dying part—he’s made his peace with that—but the idea of leaving Laura alone in a world that’s anything but kind. He’s fought so hard to keep her safe, to give her a chance at a life he never thought he’d have to walk away from before it was time. The thought of her being alone, without anyone to protect her, has kept him up more nights than he can count.

He doesn’t talk about it. He’s never been one to share what’s on his mind, to let anyone see the cracks beneath the surface. But it’s there, every time he looks in the mirror and sees the new lines on his face, every time his claws take just a little longer to come out, every time he feels the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones.

It’s a bitter realisation, knowing that his time is running out. He doesn’t know how to feel about it, doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he’s slowly dying and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. The adamantium that made him unbreakable is now his undoing, poisoning him from the inside out. And there’s no one left to save him, no one who can stop the inevitable.

He’s spent his life fighting, surviving against impossible odds, but this is a battle he knows he can’t win. It’s a fight he’s destined to lose, and it’s not something he’s ever been good at accepting.

And then, he met you.

You came into his life like a breath of fresh air, a light in the darkness that had consumed him for so long. He didn’t want to let you in at first, didn’t want to admit that you could make any kind of difference in the mess that his life had become. But you were persistent, stubborn in that way he’s come to admire, and somehow, without him even realizing it, you slipped past all the walls he’d built up around himself.

You weren’t like anyone he’d ever met. A mutant, yes, but your powers weren’t about brute strength or regeneration. Instead, you had the ability to manipulate energy, to create barriers and shields that could protect those around you. It was a power that reflected who you were—a protector, a guardian. And it was exactly what he and Laura needed. Before he knew it, he found himself drawn to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was Laura who first noticed the change in him, the way he seemed lighter somehow, less burdened by the weight of the world. She’d always been perceptive, too smart for her own good, and she didn’t hesitate to call him out on it.

“You’re different,” she said one day, her eyes narrowing as she watched him. “You’re… happier.”

Logan had grunted in response, not wanting to admit that she was right. He wasn’t used to being happy, wasn’t used to feeling anything other than anger or pain. But with you, it was different. You didn’t change his purpose; you just made the burden lighter, made it easier to carry on knowing you were by his side.

But you didn’t push him. You let him come to terms with it on his own, never demanding more than he was willing to give. You were patient, understanding in a way that made him feel like he could finally breathe, like he didn’t have to be on guard all the time.

And slowly, without even realising it, Logan found himself accepting the inevitable. He was dying—there was no denying that. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like a death sentence. It felt like… closure. Like maybe he could finally find peace, knowing that he wasn’t leaving Laura alone, that you’d be there, that you’d spend the rest of your life with him.

One night, as you lay curled up against him on the couch, your head resting on his chest, he found himself speaking the words that had been weighing on his mind for so long.

“I’m not gonna be around forever,” he said quietly, his voice rough with the weight of the truth. “I’m dying, and there’s nothin’ I can do to stop it.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you lifted your head to look at him, your eyes full of understanding and love. “I know,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

He let out a slow breath, the tension in his chest easing just a little. “I’m scared,” he admitted, the words coming out before he could stop them. “I’m not used to this… to not knowin’ what’s gonna happen. To not bein’ able to fight back.”

Your hand moved to cup his cheek, your touch gentle and reassuring. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Logan,” you said, your voice full of warmth. “It’s okay to be scared. But you’re not alone in this. Laura and I… we’re here for you, for as long as you need us.”

He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. “I don’t know how much time I have left,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But whatever time I do have… I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”

You smiled, a soft, loving smile that made his heart ache with something he couldn’t quite name. “Me too,” you said simply, as if there was no question, no doubt in your mind.

And in that moment, Logan felt something shift inside him. The fear, the uncertainty that had been gnawing at him for so long, began to fade. It didn’t disappear completely—he knew it never would—but it didn’t seem as overwhelming anymore. Because he wasn’t alone. He had you, and he had Laura. And that was enough.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold on to this moment forever. You settled against him, your body fitting perfectly against his, and he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in the scent of you—something that had become so familiar, so comforting.

And then he thought about Laura, about the future he’d once feared she’d face alone. But now… now he had hope. You were by his side, and together, you could give Laura the life she deserved. She’d have you to guide her, to be there when he was gone. And maybe, just maybe, she’d have a sibling to watch over her when both of you were long gone.

For the first time in a long time, Logan felt like he could finally accept what was happening to him. He was dying—there was no escaping that. But it didn’t feel like the end. It felt like… a beginning. A chance to live the life he’d never thought he’d have, with you by his side.

And when the time came, when the poison inside him finally took its toll, he knew he wouldn’t be alone. He’d have you, and he’d have Laura. And that was more than he’d ever hoped for.

So, he closed his eyes, letting the warmth of your presence wash over him, and for the first time in his long, tumultuous life, Logan felt at peace.

Mars speaks… (again) Thank you for reading, any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fanfiction #laura howlett #x men #logan (2017)#deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #fanfiction #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #reidsworld

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doctorsilverhead · 11 days ago

Text

Submissive! Yandere! Optimus Prime x Dom! Female Human Reader Headcanons

Summary: Optimus Prime—leader of the Autobots, a warrior, a protector, a Prime. To the world, he is a symbol of strength and unwavering resolve. But to you? He is yours.

Warnings: Submission, yandere behavior, possessiveness, mild degradation

Like a Loyal Dog, Wagging His Tail Just for You

In battle, he is the fearless leader, issuing commands, standing tall, unshaken by war. But the moment he sees you? That all crumbles.

His glowing optics soften, his frame relaxes, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging uncontrollably.

You barely have to say a word before he’s at your feet, kneeling, massive servos resting on his thighs as he waits for your touch.

“You have returned to me,” he murmurs, pure adoration in his voice, as if you had been gone for years instead of mere hours.

Craving Your Touch, Desperate for Your Praise

The weight of leadership is suffocating. The Autobots need him. The world depends on him. But he? He only needs you.

He practically melts at the slightest touch—your fingers in the seams of his faceplate, nails dragging lightly down the plating of his throat, a soft caress along his helm.

A low, shuddering vent escapes him, his frame trembling under your touch. "More," he whispers, his voice pleading.

He needs your praise. Tell him he’s good, tell him he belongs to you, and he will do anything.

If you call him “good boy”? His whole frame locks up, a shudder running through him as his vents stutter. Prime, he needs to hear it again.

A Yandere in Chains, Bound Only to You

He is obsessed with you. Not in the way a leader protects his ally—but in the way a beast craves its master.

He watches you. Always. His optics track your every movement, memorizing the rhythm of your breath, the tilt of your head, the way your lips move when you speak.

Jealousy? It burns in his spark. Rage? It simmers beneath his plating. But he never lets it show—because you wouldn’t like that. And he wants to be good for you.

But Prime will hurt anyone who touches you. They won’t live to regret it.

"You don’t need anyone else," he murmurs, pressing his helm against your chest, clinging to you like a lost spark. "Just me. Only me. Say it."

And Prime, when you kiss him? His whole body shudders with bliss.

Submitting Completely, Breaking Under Your Command

The strongest being on Earth, the leader of an entire faction, kneels at your feet.

Willingly.

Desperately.

He whimpers when you deny him, shudders when you praise him, melts when you touch him.

"Use me," he begs, optics burning with need. "I exist only for you."

When you tug him by his chin, forcing him to look up at you? His vents stall, his frame locks, and his spark pounds so violently he fears it might shatter.

He Would Kill for You. He Would Die for You.

No one is allowed near you without his permission. No one speaks to you without him watching. No one dares to touch you.

If someone tries to take you from him? They disappear.

You don’t ask questions. He doesn’t offer answers. But the way he clings to you afterward, whispering your name like a sacred prayer? You know.

And Primus, the way he shakes with bliss when you stroke his faceplate and say, "Good boy."

That alone makes the carnage worth it.

You Are His Master. His Goddess. His Everything.

To the world, he is Optimus Prime.

To you? He is nothing without you.

"I am yours," he whispers in the dead of night, curled around you, his massive servos caging you in, holding you as if you might vanish. "Forever."

And Primus help anyone who tries to take him from you.

Next part in headcanons or oneshot??

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formylovetodaryldixon · 4 days ago

Text

"Daryl Dixon SFW alphabet."

Summary: Daryl Dixon's version of the SFW alphabet with you as a couple.

@artsynana: hii dear, i was thinking, have you ever though about writing some sfw headcanons with daryl? i would love to see something like that written by you🥰🥰

Hey love. Sorry it took me a while to do this, my brain has been out of ideas :( This isn't the best, but I hope you like it! Thanks.

A/N: I sometimes include some excerpts from my stories to give you an idea (don't hate me, I have to promote them haha)

A = Affection (How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?)

In public, Daryl is painfully uncomfortable with displays of affection considering he never knew what it’s like, so he’d just stand by your side, always close, always making sure you’re in his line of sight if he can’t get close. He just… has to know where you are (not possessively, but the idea of losing you is inconceivable). Daryl is a protector, now imagine him with the person he’d want to spend his life with. Maybe cupping your cheek as a quick caress or a kiss on your forehead before either of you has to go on a search for supplements.

Privately Daryl became more accustomed to them until he needed to do it himself.

B = Best friend (What would he be like as a best friend?)

Whether you're the talkative one or the quiet one, or both, the beginning of a friendship would be confusing for Daryl. Having someone Daryl could confide in, someone he could open up to, considering that his whole life he's had to keep quiet or bottle up his own feelings, both good and bad, would be a huge step for him. But like I said, Daryl is a protector, to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anyone who dared to disrespect you (a warning first, of course. His temper is short, sorry, but he's learned to handle it), but disrespecting you in the sense that he feels you're being insulted, threatened, or way before he feels you're in danger.

C = Cuddles (Does he like to cuddle?) (The little spoon)

Glenn helps Carol as Daryl places his arms under your legs and shoulders, to lift you up so he can carry you into the bedroom, but then, a silly thought shines your mind and pushes out of your lips before you can stop it.

“Did you know Daryl likes being the little spoon?”

Daryl feels the heat rise to his cheeks as everyone stops to stare at him.

“I like it, so what?” He says embarrassed, but trying to keep a straight face so no one would laugh at him.

Daryl would come to love the idea of cuddling too, because for him, feeling HIS person against him, protected even in dreams is comforting because it's the only place he can protect you 100 percent, (I mean, with those strong arms, hehe) I don't know why, but I imagine Rick or Carol because they are the only ones who can tease him like this, sensing Daryl somewhat grumpy for not being with you at night due to some runs, telling him not to even think about trying to cuddle up against them.

Also because I feel like Daryl wasn't a deep sleeper or even didn't sleep at all, maybe that's why feeling the body of the person he loves helps him fall asleep, to feel like he's not alone anymore.

D = Domestic (Does he want to settle down? Like, make him and you a real family)

Daryl would hint (shy and awkward hehe) that it would be nice to have a house of your own, maybe in Alexandria. He did live in a house, yes, but with you, it would be his first home. It would be like giving the child living in him a chance at being loved correctly, too.

E = Ending (If he has to break up with his partner)

It's so hard for someone like Daryl to trust another person, to love another person, that when he is in a relationship, it would be for a long, long time. His whole life, he lived without thinking about the future or having expectations for anything, so if Daryl dared to love you even though he thought you deserved better, or that you could be loved better, he wouldn't break up with you on purpose.

F = Fiancé (How does he feel about commitment?) (What it means to me)

“Why did you come back for the ring?”

As the men keep digging a grave for Tina and the other bodies, Daryl stops to look at Sherry, who’s looking at an empty spot beyond all that pain. She doesn’t look back at him, and just wait for an answer.

"S’ jus’ a ring for ya but it means somethin’ important to me.”

A second later, Sherry finally looks at him.

“What is that?”

Daryl knows a promise can be broken, not by him, but by that dangerous world and how a life can end in a second, so the ring is, or will be a symbol of a truth, if he gets the opportunity to give it to you.

“It means I’ll love ma wife for the rest of ma life. S’ the only promise I can make to her.”

Daryl never thought about being anyone's something, not wanting to settle down and much less commit, it would be something he dislikes (it terrifies him actually) but with you, who showed him only the good and the beautiful that life has to offer, he would unwittingly start having those thoughts about what it would be like to do all of that only with you. The idea of getting a ring for you, of having something visual that makes you his (not in a possessive way) that after having nothing, having you bearing his last name would be everything.

G = Gentle (How gentle is he?)

Daryl is tough and imposing with his physique and the menacing way his gaze alone can convey, but he quickly learned to be less rude with you and the people he loves and considers family.

H = Hugs (Does he likes hugs?)

It's not that he doesn't like it, it's just that Daryl doesn't know how to be physically loving. My poor baby is awkward as hell, so maybe at first, just to annoy him and even make him uncomfortable, you'd give him hugs even for breathing because even you can tell he's never received one. But the idea of you expressing your love like that is fascinating to Daryl until he understands that it's a normal part of life, and that he doesn't have to work hard to deserve one.

If you haven't seen each other in a while, Daryl would need to keep you pressed against his body for a while, so that he physically understands that you're really there, close again.

I = I love you (Like Gravity)

“God dammit, woman, if I didn't love ya so much they'd be cookin' in a stew.” He freezes for a second, listening clearly to his heartbeat as he walks away, but Daryl has to clear his throat so his voice wouldn’t break off mid–sentence. “Let's go over there and see if we can get some squirrels instead.”

The L word. Daryl knows well that you love him and that he loves you, but saying it out loud, it would be the thing that would forever define your relationship at the beginning, perhaps when he still fears that the foundations of your love aren't fully built, when he still senses that someone better will come along. But the moment Daryl understands that, despite his imperfections, you won't walk away by your own choice, he'll feel safe saying it because he knows well you'll say it back. For him, love is in the small things, but every once in a while, he says it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous can he get? (You are)

Your skin feels cold again when Daryl's hand leaves your body, even if your skin feels boiling hot when the attention falls on you like the midday sun in that stifling season. As if someone had put their hand on your throat until it was blocked from air, your uncomfortable laughter comes out muffled, but you don’t answer before changing topics. But it's sad that after a short while, Daryl stands up to go to his own cell, his thoughts running wild with the jealousy he feels about that guy, thinking that there was someone who made you feel something when, for him, you were his first everything.

Insecure more than jealous, but jealous too (?). At the beginning of the relationship, Daryl is jealous of everyone because he’s convinced that everyone is better for you than him, that anyone could offer you more and something better, that at any moment he's going to ruin what he has with you, to the point of indirectly sabotaging the relationship without realizing it. Daryl needs time to understand that what you feel for him isn't temporary and isn't in danger of disappearing, until he no longer feels threatened by anyone.

But if you two are together and someone is trying to flirt by making you uncomfortable and even trying to cross the line of your security, it's like letting the lion out of its cage. Daryl would literally eat the poor bastard alive. (In fiction, I love those men hahaha)

K = Kisses (What are his kisses like?)

It depends, if they're those in the middle of the game, they'd be pretty deep. The idea is consuming in his mind, the idea of knowing that after those comes the best *wink* Daryl loves the idea of feeling his person's lips on his, because the nerves they still produce in him are exciting, how something as simple as greeting each other like that at any time of the day is simple but powerful for him. It's not something he takes for granted, especially at the moment when someone has to go to a run if you both can't go together.

L = Little ones (Babies?) (Make you happy)

“It means positive.” You answered softly, your heart beating faster.

Daryl’s mind ran as fast as possible, registering your words, processing who he was and who he will be: a future father?

“Are we…” Daryl finally said, but he had to clear his throat first. “Happy ‘bout it?”

He looked confused, not angry.

“I don’t know. Are we?”

Then, he did the last thing you thought he would do: Daryl started smiling, just a little bit.

“Yeah, I mean, I'm fuckin’ scared, but…” He paused, looking at you with a worried expression, and his voice became even lower. “But if ya don’ want to have her I would get that, ‘cause for yer face ya ain’t lookin’ so sure ‘bout it.”

Daryl was always terrified of the idea of becoming his father, or even just a shadow of that man and harming a baby, which is why he never wanted children. He knew his temper was short and explosive to the point of losing control, and that was a big NO. But Daryl, without realizing it, cared for Judith since she was a baby until a thought settled in his mind: the idea that he couldn't be that bad, not when he would give his life for someone who wasn't his blood daughter. And if Daryl would do it for her, what wouldn't he do for someone who was?

Whether it was an accident or something you two were looking for, Daryl would be an amazing dad, showing his baby nothing but love and happiness.

M = Mornings (How are the mornings with him?)

Daryl sleeps more soundly since you've been with him, but he's not someone who wants to spend all day in bed every day. The day starts early for him, although the idea of waking up next to someone after sleeping alone his whole life does make him want to stay there a little longer.

N = Nights (How are nights with him?) (The way to heal a heart)

From his side, Daryl sleeps with his back to you. However, lying on your left side and as you drift off into a light sleep, you feel Daryl rolling over in bed, blindly searching for the warmth of your body, pressing himself against you, because that reminded him that he is still alive.

With nightmares or insomnia after a lifetime of abuse, Daryl didn't relish the idea of going to sleep, but sleeping together solved the problem. Even unconsciously at first, his body blindly sought yours when you first started sleeping together, until it became a necessity for Daryl to physically feel you, perhaps a hand on your waist or your stomach or your back, or until his body was pressed against yours.

O = Open (When would he start revealing things about himself?

Little by little, because the traumatic memories felt like reliving them once Daryl said them out loud. The idea that saying them and look weak and vulnerable was inconceivable to him, but there was something about your tone of voice, without a hint of pity for him and only understanding when he crossed his own line and told you the first story one night.

P = Patience (How easily angered he gets?) (A little hope)

But too terrified to feel too much when Daryl was used to feeling little, or nothing at all, he turned away from you for a very long time, always taking the opposite path, coming when you were leaving, never coinciding, confusing when his feelings awaken and made a mess of his life.

But being shot by Andrea was like his breaking point, leading him to isolate himself in the room until he was better, walking outside only during the nights so as not to suffocate within the four walls all day. A random night as you walk back late, you see him standing against the back wall, and fighting against the current, you try to get closer, just one more time before deciding to walk away from him forever, but Daryl was the reflection of a battered animal, always on the verge of attacking before being attacked.

And he gives you the WHOLE speech.

“…battin’ yer eyelashes at me n’ always hopin’ for the best, givin’ me hope for somethin’ I know ain’t gonna happen. M’ fuckin’ sick of seein’ ya.”

Again, a really short patience, or sometimes Daryl doesn't have any of that, but he learned to calm his temper, not to get carried away by his own frustration, and not to yell or want to escape quickly from situations that made him uncomfortable. The idea of attacking so as not to be attacked again was burned into his mind, always feeling that he was not wanted anywhere, but the time and the family Daryl made taught him that he was loved and that he was an essential part of others' lives.

Q = Quizzes (How much would he remember about you?)

He remembers absolutely everything. Daryl has a practically perfect memory, recalling even things you considered unimportant. Like a good hunter, Daryl is able to notice even the smallest pieces, tiny things that go unnoticed by others, but not by him, and this ability is even more surprising because he started paying attention to you even before you were a thing: storing in his mind even those tiny behaviors of yours that no one else noticed. Now imagine when he and you became something.

R = Remember (What is his favorite moment in your relationship?)

Daryl doesn't take being with you for granted, so he believes every moment means something special.

S = Security (How protective is he?) (Karma Butterfly)

“A fuss?” Daryl grunts under his breath, those words souring his mouth. “A moron threatened ma wife and ya don’ want me to make a damn fuss?”

But as the sweet karma that is about to punch Spencer right in the face just as Daryl’s fist would do, Spencer walks down the street toward the car, smiling at Rick like the good boy he pretended to be. However, Daryl’s anger covers his eyes and paints the world red as he walks towards him just to punch Spencer before Glenn or Rick can try to stop him, hitting him so hard that Daryl makes him fall. Daryl falls on him too, with all the weight of his body, punching the thick skin of the wolf. His strong arms push away who tries to pull him back, his ears covering with the word threat, his fists turning red as blood leaves Spencer’s face.

“Daryl, stop!” Finally, Rick pulls him hardly, giving Spencer some time to breathe again. “You’re gonna kill him!”

“That’s the fuckin’ plan!” Daryl shouts back, trying to avoid Rick’s body as he looks straight at Spencer. “M’ gonna kill ya, coward! Nobody messes with ma wife!”

Once again, Daryl is a protector, to the point of giving his life for the person he loves. Keeping you safe from any kind of threat is a duty to him. Feeling like you're in any kind of danger is devastating to him, which is why Daryl would dedicate his life to keeping yours safe, from anything living or not. Losing you is what terrifies him more than the thought of something happening to him.

T = Try (How much effort would he put into different things)

Love for Daryl is in the little things: like bringing something for you during a run, for example, a book, a cassette, something simple but a meaningful reminder that life in that new world is still life just because he has you.

U = Ugly (Some bad habits of his?)

That he's not bothered at all by the grease of his motorcycle when Daryl's fixing it or the blood on his clothes, that he doesn't notice it until you point it out. He'd respond that it's not that bad and that you're just being picky until you threatened to make him sleep in the yard if he didn't fix it.

(I'm not saying smoke because I do it too, sorry)

V = Vanity (How concerned is he with his looks?)

Not worried at all. Even though Daryl's physical appearance has attracted the attention of the local women in Alexandria, he's oblivious to his appearance, becoming even shy when you tease him about his long hair, which makes him look like a rock star, or the muscles in his arms exposed in his sleeveless shirt.

W = Whole (How would he feel without you?)

After living alone his entire life, finding you gave Daryl the desire to never be without you again. The idea of falling in love was almost like a bad joke to him, although in reality he was also terrified of loving too much and losing (among other things). But feeling loved by you made him feel complete, so yeah, he doesn't want to live without you anymore.

X = Xtra (A random thing about him?)

Maybe how quickly he becomes shy when you tease him? but he tries to hide it with a snort.

Y = Yuck (What are some things he doesn’t like about you?)

Nothing. Just your own tendency to do things alone, which sometimes got on his nerves because of his fear of you getting hurt. Daryl knows you're independent and can take care of yourself, but since life taught you that you could handle everything on your own, you sometimes forget that it's okay to have someone else help you.

Z = Zzz (What are some sleep habits of his?) (My everything)

“15 minutes to make the milk? I was starting to get worried actually." You raise an eyebrow, speaking softly. "Why did you take so long? The milk is in the kitchen, not in another country."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Daryl apologizes as he hands you the bottle, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch his daughter stop crying the moment she feels the bottle against her pretty pink lips. "I closed ma eyes and jus' fell asleep for a minute."

You frown, continuing to stroke Marley's back.

"In a chair? On the counter?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl's head falls until he almost hits his chest with his own chin, waking up from his light sleep before looking back at you. It's still funny to you how easy it was for him to go without sleep all those years, but after a month with Marley, Daryl considered killing walkers an easier task.

"What? No. Standin’. Didn't know that was even possible."

Being a light sleeper, or not sleeping at all sometimes because of nightmares was Daryl's weakness, but sleeping with you developed a good sleep habit on him. He still wakes up early, but sleeps soundly since you two lived within the safety of Alexandria's walls, although since his daughter was born, Daryl truly understood what it was like to go without sleep.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #dad!daryl dixon #daryl dixon

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