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#i would probably fight a bear for him there is no question that i would forcibly shove another dog off with my forearm
automatonknight · 8 months
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here's the prick i was talking about^ i have so many thoughts and notes about him but they're mostly incomprehensible so when i organize maybe them i'll post them who knows
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scoliosisgoblin · 2 months
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doodles of the gay idiots feat Mona and my girlfriend's oc, Lilly :) (who is also a gay idiot)
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coloursofaparadox · 8 months
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>:[
#ive lost like all fear of dogs at this point. i realized that earlier today when a massive rottie started a fight with my boy#and my first instinct on seeing flying teeth was to sprint towards them and shove my body in between#its very possible it was also just all self preservation leaving my body because i am absolutely going to protect my pup#i would probably fight a bear for him there is no question that i would forcibly shove another dog off with my forearm#but fuck. despite the fact that i /know/ better sometimes i have a real real bad fatigue week and i use dog parks. i have like.#a selective list of ones that i will go to categorized by 'least likely to become a boxing ring'. tons of space. multiple separate areas.#i go only at off times when its not busy! i watch dog body language and keep an eye on him at all times.#ill rotate areas if i spot a potential problem. i have him under verbal control and wouldnt even be there if i didnt. but! like!#despite all that. just fucking anyone can go there. 'oh your dogs a puppy thats why my dog attacked him!' idgaf.#speaking as someone who has raised a reactive dog. if your dog is reactive why in the absolute hell would you take them to a dog park.#why!!! lif your dog is consistently fighting other dogs why would you do that! it does not matter if he 'only attacks dogs that arent fixed'#he is still obviously not having a good fucking time and is not going to enjoy this environment holy shit#just. gggHHGGH. i avoid off leash parks as much as i can already but. fuck. idek the point of this im just.#still a bit riled over having to physically throw myself in the middle of a dog fight while the other owner did absolutely nothing.#like just hovered! while his dog was pinning mine and teeth flying attacking and was actively fighting me trying to keep him off#when i can afford it im gonna find some sort of dog group walk/hike thing instead i do not want to socialize my boy like this#i am tired and very very upset because my boy looked so scared and i swear to god if you arent grabbing your dog i will fight it myself#fuck dude. fuck dog parks and fuck me for knowing better and still using em anyways.
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in-class-daydreams · 5 months
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Just Between Us (Satoru Gojo x Reader)
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Utahime!Reader Synopsis: You possess a coveted ability, the Blessed Womb, meaning your offspring will bear any and all cursed techniques in their father's bloodline. As such, you've lived a life isolated from society, to protect your rare capability. But what about you? Is that all you are? A womb? You refuse to be reduced to what your body can do. You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The Universe seems to have designed you to be twin flames, but by now you happen to resent the Universe making all your decisions for you. Set around the beginning of the school year of Gojo's second year of high school. Notes/TW: Toxic patriarchy & arranged marriage culture. Reader is sheltered to an abusive degree. Some mentions of blood. Gojo and reader argue a whole bunch and yes, that's a warning. Fem pronouns used and the reader has a uterus for plot reasons.
“The hell do you mean you kissed Geto?” you shout at Gojo.
You sat at your vanity, painstakingly plucking pins from the elaborate updo that the maids put your hair into. Your personal attendant, Miwako, would have a heart attack with how harsh you were being with her labor of love, but she had enough survival instincts to leave you and Gojo be. This wasn’t the first fight of yours she’d been in proximity to, and it wouldn’t be the last.
The boy in question leans against your dresser. He’s still wearing his school uniform, not even having the decency to change clothes for your birthday ceremony while you’d been getting trussed up like a Christmas ham since 6 am.
“Technically, he kissed me. And it was just the one time,” he drawls. Your oldest friend stares off into space, likely reminiscing the feeling of kissing one Suguru Geto. You’d never seen the man, since he never had a reason to visit the Utahime Estate and you weren’t allowed to leave. Gojo would have shown you pictures, if your clan elders allowed any blue light on the premises.
You pointedly avoid his gaze - he wasn’t paying attention to you anyhow, probably too busy thinking about Geto - and busy yourself with dismantling the amalgamation of clips and pins that was your hairstyle.
“You’re mad,” Gojo says.
“What would I be mad for, Satoru?” you reply simply.
He counts on his fingers. “First, you’re not looking at me. Second, you called me ‘Satoru,’ and third, I know everything about you, I know when you’re mad.”
You resent that. Gojo was always under the assumption that he knew, as he said, “everything about you,” and you were always positive that he was full of it. He might have been your oldest friend, and he was a significant part of your life, but in light of all the “fate this” and “destiny that” talk from just about everyone you’ve ever met, you were adamant that your thoughts were your own.
You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The heir to the Gojo Clan first opened his eyes around 6 am, just as the sun broke the horizon and turned the sea of indigo night to golden morning. You, who would be imbued with the Blessed Womb and therefore responsible for the fate of the Utahime Clan, filled your mother’s bedroom with your newborn wails just before 5 pm, when the orange and periwinkle and blue and blush were being covered in a blanket of night. The sight of you brought tears to your big sister’s eyes.
The two of you were introduced to each other as soon as possible, swaddled in your respective blankets and placed beside each other. What your clans envisioned, you’d never know, but baby Satoru wailed in his mother’s arms until his swaddle made contact with yours. All froze in stunned silence when you both immediately fell into a peaceful slumber. It was as if the stars made you to be two parts of a whole.
Within that year, when you were having trouble learning to roll over, you finally did so to come face to face with him. Months later, his first steps were towards you. His mother liked to say that you were a cosmic match, and she guessed that your mother would have said the same thing, had she survived your birth.
The two of you were a fairytale straight out of a storybook.
You would come to resent that.
Where was your own agency? Were you to inevitably fall for a man whom destiny chose for you? What about what you wanted? Why did you not have a say in the universe’s great plan for you?
But none of that mattered, for as you grew older and the true nature of your Blessed Womb came to light, each scrap of autonomy you possessed was stripped away. For much of your childhood, you shared a joint birthday party, alternating between estates each year. As soon as it was up to him, Satoru decided that any celebrations would be just about you. Maybe he believed he was doing you a favor, but all that did was concentrate all the public scrutiny onto you.
You click your tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re free to do whatever you want. I’m happy for you and your new boyfriend.”
“It’s not like that,” he says.
A bobby pin slips from your grip and flings into the mirror, bouncing to the ground. You grunt in frustration and spin around to face him.
“What’s it like, then?” you demand.
He raises his hands up in defense. “It felt weird! We’re good where we’re at, and– Look, I’m not a mind reader, okay? You say with your mouth that you’re happy for me, and then you act pissed off. Which is it and what do you want from me?”
When you try to look away again, he leans the same way, forcing himself into your field of view every time you turn your head.
“Are you mad you’re not my first kiss? Is that it?” You pause at his question and stare at him blankly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he adds, “You’re my first everything else, princess, you can’t let someone else have this one?”
You grab the first thing within reach - a pretty metal claw clip - and fling it at him. He catches it easily.
“Shut up! You’re so–!” you shout, unable to find an insult suitable for the ire you feel. “You’re so!”
“Full of myself?” he helpfully supplies.
“Don’t put words in my mouth!” you snap. “You’re so damn full of yourself, it’s a wonder you have room for anyone else!” You turn your back to him. “Maybe you don’t.”
 The house servants, and probably your sister if she was in her room, were plenty used to yours and Gojo’s spats by now. You heard from a particularly loose-lipped new maid that there’s a running tally in the staff quarters keeping score of who wins your arguments. She wouldn’t say more, but you like to believe that you’re winning. “Don’t think I care who you put your thin, crusty lips–”
“My lips are soft and supple!”
“Thin–” you emphasize. “--crusty lips on! You can kiss my grandmother for all I care, if she lets you anywhere near her.”
“Grandma Utahime wishes she could get herself a taste of this!”
“Whatever!” You rubbed your temples and tried to will away what you called your “Gojo Headache.” All the headaches caused by him stretched all the way across your forehead and somehow made your jaw ache. They were unmistakable and exclusive.
“See, that’s what pisses me off,” Gojo says, gesturing with one hand. “We argue and when you don’t want to argue any more, you just say ‘whatever’ and nothing gets solved.”
“What part of me not wanting to argue any more do you not understand? You’re so stubborn, it’s not worth it!” you reply.
There’s a light knock at the door. Through it, you hear Miwako’s muffled voice bid you goodnight.
She can’t see you, but you lower your head and speak as soft and sweet as possible. “Thank you, Miwako. Sleep well, and thank you for attending me today.” Then you turn back to Satoru. “But if you’re going to be a pain in the ass about it–”
“I’m the pain in the ass?”
“-- I’ll tell you why I’m mad! I woke up this morning, drank that nasty red ginseng tea, got in the tub, got every inch of me scrubbed down and then lotioned. The attendants brought me into the main hall where I sat and did tea ceremony while the jujutsu clans paraded their men around in front of me, insisting that my grandmother - not me - agrees to a marriage alliance to unite the clans.” Gojo opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not done. “Iori refused to make eye contact with me all day - just like she does every year on my birthday - so the last person I was counting on was you! So excuse me if I’m upset that you showed up late, made me face the Kamo Clan, Naoya Zenin, and the Inumaki Clan’s ten year old successor on my own, then had the audacity to come in and act like it’s fine to talk about your love life like everything is fine and dandy for us both, because it isn’t! It’s just great for you!”
You take a deep breath, panting by now. It’s been a while since you ripped Gojo a genuine new one. Usually, the two of you have minor spats over things you can’t remember and call it a day. The two of you don’t even apologize, you just move on.
The problem was, things would always be harder on you than him. While you sympathized with the insurmountable pressure he must be feeling as the heir of both of his clan’s techniques, he was a man. In the archaic values of the jujutsu upper nobility, he would be free to make more of his own decisions in one day than you would in your entire life. That, and he wasn’t cursed with a Blessed Womb.
You’re still shaking with rage when you glance at Gojo. Even behind his blackout shades, you can see that his eyes are blown wide. But when he finally formulates a reply, you decide that there’s nothing he can say right now that won’t piss you off, so you go over to the window and check outside to see if the coast is clear.
Over your shoulder, you tell him, “Go home, Satoru, every time you open your mouth, you piss me off.”
You throw a leg over the sill and heave yourself up. Gojo follows close behind.
“As if I ever let you boss me around,” he scoffs. He holds a hand out for you to stabilize yourself and you swat it away.
Bringing the other leg over, you land in the grass with a quiet thump. “Point proven,” you deadpan.
Gojo doesn’t even need to use his hands to help him. They remain in his pockets as he takes a high step through the window and easily slips out behind you. It’s an awkward fit for him with limbs as unwieldy as his.
You stalk off through the darkness to the edge of the estate. You quietly slip through and make your way down the path towards gardens. Not many flowers are in bloom this time of year, but the hedges stand tall and obscure you from view of the house.
Gojo ambled along beside you, leaned far back with his questionable posture. You don’t hate him, despite how vicious your fights could be. He was the only person who didn’t treat you differently from everyone else. Funny, considering he was more tied to your existence than anyone else. Even if he liked to push your buttons, he saw you for you, not what you were cursed with.
You were only four years old when extensive genetic testing revealed that you were imbued with an exceedingly rare, ancient power your clan took to calling the Blessed Womb. After studying the signs of its manifestation, the direction of the entire clan became geared towards finding you an auspicious match.
The major jujutsu clans, and many of the minor ones, possessed more than one cursed technique per clan. However, it was rare for any one sorcerer to be born with talents in more than one technique, Satoru being the first in generations to possess both the Six Eyes and Limitless. Precedence and sparse written records dictated that if you coupled with a jujutsu sorcerer, your offspring was not only guaranteed to possess whatever your own abilities were, but they’d manifest any and all of their father’s techniques as well.
Needless to say, the sharks frenzied once word got out.
You flop down in the grass and lay on your back to look up at the night sky. The estate was more isolated from the city and had no electric lights. The stars twinkled above, and you almost felt sorry for cursing them so. Emphasis on almost, seeing as they had no qualms about doing the same to you.
“Who cares about the yearly marriage exhibition?” Gojo asked. He joined you in the grass, leaning back on his hands. “When the time comes, you’re just gonna marry me, right?” When you don’t reply, he continues, “We were born on the same day, these superstitious old crones wouldn’t go back on that.”
“Shut up, Satoru,” you think to yourself. Not that he would have, had you said it aloud.
“We marry, you don’t have to deal with them ever again, and you’re free,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You can even get a boyfriend, if you want, I don’t mind.”
“And then what, Satoru?” You can’t keep the irritation out of your voice. “We live complacently in our loveless marriage and I help you rebuild your clan, give you an heir even stronger than you, and we all live happily ever after? You, me, and our respective side pieces?”
Satoru goes quiet. For all the times you’ve told him to shut his mouth, his silence puts a pit in your stomach. The air doesn’t feel quite right without his voice.
“Hey, I–”
“I thought we knew each other better than that,” he says quietly.
Something ugly wells inside you. A warped monster born of feelings you locked away years ago. It lived in the dark, starving, uncared for until it morphed into a malicious caricature of what it used to be.
No matter what you feared you felt, you couldn’t love Satoru Gojo. Period.
One day, you’d be free. You would withhold the usage of your Blessed Womb from the world. You would go childless to maintain scraps of your autonomy, and you’d learn to live your own life. Study jujutsu sorcery, rent an apartment you could decorate. Anything to stop feeling like you were being jerked around by fate.
As for Gojo, he wanted a family. Something to call his own, where he didn’t have to be the strongest. He could just be Satoru. And to accept that life with him would mean compromising your own desires. Besides, was your love for him a choice you made or was it yet another thing fate wanted to force upon you?
“I’m sorry,” you say, because you are. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.”
He lies down on his side facing you. You respond in kind, rolling over to face him just like the first time when you were children.
Your clan would be scandalized by your proximity. His warm breath tickles your face. He smells of crushed spearmint and clean linen.
Funny how if your lives weren’t so intertwined, you might’ve let yourself love him fully.
Gojo leans forward slowly enough for you to pull back if you want. Against your better judgment, you don’t. He stops and it becomes quickly apparent that he won’t move any further. If you want this, you have to close the gap.
All you want is to close your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. You imagine they’re soft as he claimed and you’d know you’re in trouble when the butterflies aren’t just in your stomach. They’d be splashed across your nose, collecting in your fingertips, and fluttering down your legs, and just like that, you’d be his.
You can’t have that, now, can you?
Gojo’s eyes snap open when your warmth disappears. You sit up and he follows suit, looking more uncertain than you’d ever seen him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks and you shake your head furiously, both as a response and to clear your head.
Avoiding his gaze, you reply, “No?”
“Is that a question or?”
“Look, Satoru, we’ve had a lot of firsts together and today was the first time we didn’t, right?” You rip up the grass beneath you in your fingers. 
Gojo jumps to his feet, furious. “No way you’re punishing me for what happened with Suguru!”
“I’m not punishing you for shit!” You throw your hands up in the air. “Can’t I say two sentences without you interrupting me?”
“Then talk!” Gojo shouts back, uncaring that the two of you could be heard. “Explain to me what your problem is!”
“I’m surprised you wanna hear it, at this point!” you retort, getting to your feet.
“Of course I do! I always do when it’s you!”
“All I’m saying is maybe we don’t have to be each other’s firsts for everything! You got to have your first kiss with your first love, so I want to save mine for the same!” you finish.
Gojo freezes, and you take that to mean you’re right on the money.
“I–” you run a hand through your hair. “I know you like you know me. And I’ve never heard you talk about anyone or anything the way you talk about him, so. Yeah. I’m not mad, Toru. I promise. I am happy for you.”
His face is unreadable, which is saying something coming from you. Your oldest friend looks a mix of incredulous, confused, and something else you can’t place.
He shakes his head. More. And he keeps shaking it until you think his eyes are going to fall out.
“You know what, I–” He groans in frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that? I’m not mad you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine, that’s up to you, I would never hold that against you in this lifetime or the next or the dozen after that, but my problem is with everything else you just said!”
“Who said I don’t want to kiss you, Toru? Don’t put words in my mouth!” you reply.
“Is that the only thing you listened to?”
Something inhuman screeches near the front gate, effectively cutting off the conversation at hand. You pale. With someone as valuable as you on the premises, the Utahime Estate had state-of-the-art protections in place. Nothing unauthorized should have been able to make it anywhere near.
Gojo puts his glasses back on. “Stay here.”
“What? No, I’m coming with you!” you insist, but he’s not having it.
“Just because I taught you to fight doesn’t mean I want you doing it! Stay here!” And with that, Gojo runs off into the night.
You watch him take a few steps then disappear and not for the first time, you wish you could teleport, too. Reaching into your sleeve,  you pull a spool of red thread from a small pocket inside.
Seconds later, their hair on your arms stand on end and a sense of foreboding overtakes you. You hear a low growl behind you and smile. Time to put Gojo’s teachings to the test.
~
Your clanmates find you right where Gojo left you, panting and covered with curse blood and unidentifiable chunks. Red threads hang tangled and limp from both your hands.
The clan’s matriarch, your grandmother, shuffles up to you and grabs your chin, tilting it from side to side searching for blemishes of any sort. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan fussed over how a curse could have made it past the protections.
“Where’s Toru?” you ask tiredly. The cursed spirit that attempted to ambush you was relatively easy to beat, large, but awkward and slow-moving, but it still took some movement on your part to dispatch it. You could only hope that Gojo didn’t meet anything too menacing.
Right on cue, because he loved to make an entrance, Gojo strolled across the yard, hands in his pockets like it was a warm, sunny day in the park and not nearly midnight. But what really caught your clan’s attention was the tall, wide older man marching at his side. You’d never seen him before and you couldn’t recall Gojo mentioning him in any of his stories from school.
Gojo walks right through the small crowd and stopped in front of you and your grandmother.
“Everyone, I’d like you all to meet my teacher, Mr. Masamichi Yaga,” he says.
The older man bows to the matriarch. “As Gojo said, I’m a second-year instructor at Tokyo Jujutsu High.”
Your grandmother gives a withering stare of disapproval. “And I assume Satoru has a very good reason for bringing an unauthorized adult man onto my estate, especially with my granddaughter present.”
With an appearance as painstakingly maintained as yours, you and your clan quickly learned that the men that got to be in your presence required strict curating, lest the wrong man get the wrong idea.
“Actually, I’m here because of your granddaughter,” Yaga says.
“What would a jujutsu instructor possibly want with her?” When your grandmother asked questions, it wasn’t because she needed an answer. More often than not, she’d already put two and two together and was seeing if they had the balls to say it aloud for her.
“I mean, she just slayed a Grade 2 cursed spirit, so,” Gojo shrugs.
Everyone who knew of Satoru Gojo had an opinion of him, and people could say what they wanted, but if nothing else, he was a gifted instructor. Every movement during your fight felt comfortable, confident, controlled.
“Lady Utahime, it is as good as law that those who possess a cursed technique must attend formal schooling in jujutsu sorcery,” Yaga explains something she knows full well.
Your grandmother gives him a long look, then glares at you.
“It seems as though she’s picked up a thing or two on her own.” Her gaze pierces through Gojo and it was unclear who truly possessed the Six-Eyes. To his credit, though, he just smiled at her guilelessly. She clicked her tongue. “Well played, Satoru.” To you, she says, “You will perform your full duty to the clan. We did not spend generations building our life only for you to squander it with your selfishness.”
You blink. “Yes, grandmother.” You’re honestly lost at this point.
“Pack your things, get out of my sight. Yaga, come with me to discuss terms.” She turns to head back towards the house with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let us pray that Satoru Gojo truly is the strongest.”
The rest of the entourage follows close behind her. You watch them go until Gojo slings an arm over your shoulders, nonplussed by the blood and entrails still covering you.
“Yay! Let’s go pack your stuff!” He drags you towards your room. “You can live right next to me, and whatever you don’t have, we can buy in the city, my treat!” He cheers.
“Hold on!” You pull back and easily slip out of his grasp. Clearly he only meant to guide you and you were always free to escape his hold. “What am I missing here?”
Gojo grins boyishly and takes you by the hands.
“Starting right now, you’re going to be a student at Jujustu High!” he announces.
Your jaw goes slack. “What? I can’t! I’ve never even left the estate! My grandmother would never agree to this!”
Taking one hand and dropping the other, Gojo pulls you - more gently - towards your room.
“She just did. Now, come on! Before she changes her mind!”
As you struggle to keep up with his long strides, the pieces begin to come together in your mind. Your grandmother was always very strict, to say the least, and she insisted that you complete your duty to the clan. Since birth, it had been drilled into your head that your bride price, along with other gifts of good will and an alliance with another clan, would single handedly revive your dying clan. To be fair, you could see the logic. You only wished you didn’t have to sacrifice every aspect of your life.
But maintaining your beauty was a show of wealth. Your Blessed Womb would be plenty to secure everything the clan needed. With it, even if you had one eye and three noses, you’d have a barrage of suitors.
What’s more, doctors concluded that your unnaturally high output of cursed energy was the key component in your mother’s death during your birth. Grandmother hadn’t done anything about it yet, but it was the general consensus that if you had a strong control of your own technique, your chances of surviving childbirth were much higher. There was just that one final push to force your grandmother to relinquish control of you.
“Those curses didn’t break through our defenses,” you say in realization. “You let it in. That’s how Mr. Yaga was here.”
Gojo doesn’t turn back, but you can see his cheeks shift with his smile.
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he says.
“That’s why you were late today,” you say quietly. A pit grows in your stomach. “You were setting all this up.”
He squeezes your hand and guides you into your bedroom. He lets you go and flops onto your bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish.
“I promised I’d help you be free of this estate one day. Remember what you said to me a couple years ago?” he asks.
Forcing yourself to move, you pull out the necessities and throw them on the bed. “Not really, no.”
“You said, and I quote,” he took on a high-pitched falsetto, “”If I spent all my time waiting for a man to rescue me, I’d never get anything done.” Do you remember that?”
Vividly, but you decide he doesn’t need to know that. You already gave him a free pass for that piss poor imitation of you. You grab a few select pieces of your favorite hair accessories.
“Sort of,” you reply.
“All I did today was give you an opportunity.” His eyes, the color of the heavenly sky, focus on you. “Congratulations, my twin flame. You rescued yourself tonight.”
~~
(A/N: Will this get more parts? Probably. Lmk what you think and thanks for reading <;3)
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araminakilla · 1 year
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Regarding Death Wolf...
Hear me out (NO, it's not the kind you are thinking)
We know Death has a job, right? To collect souls and most likely release them to the afterlife.
And for this job, he has to be there when somebody is about to die, as demostrated with him being there moments before Puss' eight death.
Supposing he is THE Death and he has been doing this since the beginning of time (or at least when there were enough stories of the Grim Reaper to adquire a physical form) that means he has seen a lot, A LOT of awful things.
Murders, suicides, massacres, death of infants, people who didn't deserve to die alone, animal cruelty, some other heavy stuff I won't mention here, etc etc etc.
And we thought "man, how is he able to cope with all of that? That job has to be utter torture for someone."
Probably many of you could think that he is able to do that because he is Death, and he was "born" with that purpose and only him can reap souls perfectly.
But while he is a force of nature, he also WAS a force of nature. Let me explain it well: He adquired a personality enough to be angry, excited, frustrated, amazed, happy, among other emotions.
While he has supernatural power and is most likely the most powerful being in the Shrek Franchise (or in Dreamworks as many say) he is also a PERSON.
Someone with a code of honor, morals, opinions, beliefs, etc.
Returning to the question "How can he bear all of that?" taking into account he is no longer an inevitable force, but a character of his own.
The answer is something you may relate to, and that is: Creativity and escapism.
To be the embodiment of Death, the guy is a very creative fella.
First of all, his design. I heard many people saying here and in Twitter that his design is something they would come up in their edgy, teen years of drawing their first fursona.
Guess what? They are right, the wolf form is someone's fursona. It's DEATH'S fursona. He clearly came up with this badass, piercing canine form to blend with the Fairy Tale Land assuming the form of the "Big Bad Wolf". He most likely had other forms he designed over the centuries and was able to present as them like if he were on a role play game in the living world.
His sickles? The weapon of choice with the little crossed cats on it to have a bigger effect of terror for Puss? Those who can become knuckles and join to create a scythe? Those are his creation, probably after thinking it for a while and writing all of those functions on a paper.
The way he presents himself? In the bar? The coins in his eyes as a "watching you" sign while being a cool reference to the Ferryman of souls? He transforming Perrito's forest into the background of a skull? The chilling reveal at the Cave of Lost Souls? The fire ring? It was all him.
As for the escapism part...
When the world becomes too heavy to deal with as real life issues tend to make us feel bad, depressed, angry... we tend to escape it somewhere. And in our time the common place would be the internet as in webpages or comics, stories, etc.
But what has to do with Death Wolf you may ask?
Well, while he would NEVER be able to escape his job entirely, he can have moments where he can enjoy a good hunt of people who don't appreciate life, like the whole plot of the Puss in Boots sequel could demostrate.
He managed to have a little time outside his eternal routine to chase an arrogant cat who took life for granted. He enjoyed it, it was thrilling, it was exciting.
It was a way to escape a monotonous, grim "life", if just for a short moment.
So, when the chase ended as his prey no longer feared him and now was ready to fight for his last life, the wolf retreats, happy for Puss' character development but resigned because he once again had to return to "The Eternal Duty"
And that's not even counting all the times Jack "I'm dead inside" Horner had to interrupt Lobo's hunt and remind him of his job even in his "spare time"
Death knew the chase had to end eventually, but he didn't want it to end.
He didn't want to return to his own world
And if we look at Death like that, then he is probably one of the most relatable characters Dreamworks has ever make.
In the Shrek Franchise:
Monsters can be loved
Princesses don't have to fit the perfect standards of beauty
Handsome guys can be possesive jerks
Love at first sight doesn't work like one would think
Happily ever afters had to be built and not just obtain them with magic
And Death is the most creative and "full of life" being in the world
Because he would absolutely go crazy with his life/work if he wasn't.
Because in a world of Kings, Poets and Soldiers, he's the Supreme King
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And he's also a perky goth but none of you are ready for that conversation.
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msfantasy-comics · 10 months
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The Perfect Match
Bruce Wayne x Reader
Summary: A head cannon on how you’re the perfect match for Bruce.
Warning: Established relationships
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Bruce had always considered the concept of a perfect match to be a feeble notion. The idea that a someone could be perfect and perfectly compliment one’s self was simply illogical and just not possible.
But that’s the thing about hypotheticals, they’re just theories until proven otherwise. Bruce can distinguish five instances on when he recognised you to be his perfect match.
Intelligence:
You weren’t a genius capable of rattling off theories and solving impossible equations. Not by any means. You were, however, incredibly intelligent when it comes to people and making them feel important.
It wasn’t a super power or psychological trickery. It was that you listened to people and ask them questions about their hobbies or family.
It was the way that you leaned in as if you were keen to hear what that person had to say.
It was the way you smile softly when people start to babble off in excitement as you reciprocate the conversation
Whilst you didn’t fully comprehend quantum physics or the engineering to Bruce Wayne’s degree
You sat there happily indulging Bruce as he discusses a new equation he solved
It was the way you made him feel like he could talk about anything without judgement or without your eyes wondering elsewhere in boredom.
Bruce: “Anyway, you probably have more important things to do.”
Y/n: “Don’t be silly. You’re just as important. Go on, finish what you were saying.”
Independence:
Bruce dreaded needy women who are utterly incapable of being self-sufficient. Who required rescuing and constant entertainment like a puppy.
Bruce: “I have an emergency work trip for an unspecified amount of time. I probably won’t be able to contact you too much. Will you be okay without me?”
Y/n *acting like a damsel in distress*
Y/n: “Oh no! I’m being abandoned in the biggest mansion with a butler, a library and a black Amex card. What could one do with one’s self? What a travesty!”
Bruce would return from his two week trip excited to see you again after not being in contact the whole time.
Only you weren’t at the mansion at 4pm on a Tuesday.
Bruce *calling your phone*
Y/n: “Hi honey! I missed you so much!”
Bruce: “Come home and show me how much you’ve missed me.”
Y/n: “What? I finish work in an hour, surely you can survive 60 more minutes without me- oh I have to go, I’ll see you soon my love!”
Supportive:
Bruce didn’t make it to your anniversary dinner.
He didn’t even have a chance to call you and cancel.
He exited the bat cave feeling utterly guilty for abandoning you on such an important occasion.
Bruce felt utterly defeated. A failure of a father. Batman got into a one on one fist fight with Red-Hood, attempting to save the Jokers life, only for his son to forsake himself. Now he had to face his failures as a husband.
Opening the door he sees you laying in bed, scrolling away at your phone.
As soon as you noticed him you tossed the phone and made a mad dash, pulling him into a bear hug.
Y/n: “Honey, I’m so proud of you. Being there when your son needed you most. You’re such a good man. Don’t be hard on yourself, remember that Jason is a grown man who made his decision.”
Pulling Bruce to bed, you pull him into a tight hold and continue to comfort him.
Bruce really appreciated that you didn’t bring up his absence.
Bruce: “I missed our -“
Y/n: “You didn’t miss anything. Your with me now aren’t you? Happy anniversary my beloved.”
Emotionally Stable:
Damian was over your nagging.
Y/n: “Damian, you need to get more sleep. I’m worried your burning yourself out.”
Y/n: “When was the last time you had a proper meal? You can’t survive off burgers alone you know.”
Y/n: “When was the last time you saw Jon? You have to maintain your friendships or else they fall apart.”
Y/n: “Stop having these energy drinks! It’s basically poison for your body - have you had any water today? You look dehydrated!”
You snatched the can out of his hand and threw it in the bin.
Damian lost his absolute shit.
Damian: “Enough with your incessant criticism!You’re getting on my nerves!”
Crosses his arms over his chest and looks off in irritation.
Bruce stands frowning behind him, ready to give his son the scolding of a life time.
But instead your laughter booms across the bat cave.
You find Damian’s little outburst amusing and adorable rather than rude and hurtful.
Y/n: “You’re right D, I’m sorry, I’ll lay off you a bit.”
You’d pull him into that tight hug he says he hates but he always leans into your comforting hold.
Y/n: “You boys be careful tonight, I’ll see you both in the morning”
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houserautha · 21 days
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These Destined Ends
Part 6
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: (I’m kind of rusty about appropriate warnings so let me know if there’s something I need to add or correct) You dose yourself with poison, he cuts his arm with a knife, you drink his blood, knife play, oral sex female receiving, dirty talk, p in v, some light praise, dubious consent, inappropriate use of a dagger/anal, he fucks you and the dagger essentially fucks him, breeding/pregnancy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, black cum ofc, no aftercare
A/N: Alright this chapter is…a lot. The knife scenario I read a few years ago in “Den of Vipers” by K.A Knight and it completely changed my brain chemistry. It inspired me to include a similar situation because it’s so Feyd coded😂😭
Also credits to @sansaorgana for mentioning how Harkonnen blood would be thick and effected by Giedi Prime’s environment and pollution. I love discussing Feyd’s body fluids
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Weeks pass before Feyd-Rautha corners you in one of the Baron’s sparse gardens. Garden being a slight exaggeration — really, it’s more of a barren courtyard with a bench. Until your fearsome betrothed strode in, your only company was a few scraggly bushes and the fledgling pilingtam tree keeping you in the shade.
Feyd-Rautha hooks his finger in your book and pulls it away. “Come with me.”
You glare balefully at him. “I was reading that.” It’s the only Harkonnen novel you’ve found that you can stomach. “You can’t just beckon me whenever. Or — and this is blasphemy, I know — you could just ask me if I want to go with you.”
Feyd-Rautha closes the book. “No.”
“You lost my page,” you say with a pout. You debate teaching manners to him again, briefly, before sensing that you’re fighting a losing battle. So instead you snatch the book from his hands.
“Two hundred and thirty eight. Now,” he fixes you with a stern look, “let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
Frankly, you don’t care where he’s taking you. Since the Crucible, you’ve been anxiously waiting for something to do besides answering questions about your upcoming nuptials. Your body aches for purpose. Movement. You also realize, with mixed feelings, that you would probably follow Feyd-Rautha wherever he asked you.
What did that say about your state of mind?
“It’s time for training,” he says.
You trail after him, vaguely disappointed that you weren’t going to finish your book. You tuck it under your arm. How bad could poison training be? Maybe you’d have time to flip through a few pages. Feyd-Rautha eyes you as if he can tell what you’re thinking, but doesn’t comment on it.
The fortress is in full swing for the wedding, which looms only a month and a half away. You would think that’s plenty of time to prepare. But servants are hanging decorations, comparing tasks, and cleaning everything in sight. They quiet as you and Feyd-Rautha stroll past them, and you search their faces for Asha.
She’s been just as busy as everyone else. Everyone but you, of course, who, despite your prominent involvement in the wedding, has been left to your own devices. You weren’t exactly thrilled to dose yourself with poison, but at least it gave you something to look forward to.
“How did you first go about this?” You ask the na-Baron. It’s a strange comfort to be in the presence of someone so unperturbed, confident and assured to a fault, sure, but you knew what to expect from him. He was an asshole, but he would be one regardless.
“Poison tolerance?” He asks.
“No, long walks through the fortress.”
Feyd-Rautha ignores you. “It’s a precaution, mostly. Poison-snoopers can be faulty or influenced. It also gives me an…edge…over others.”
“The others being…?”
“Political allies. Enemies.” You catch the hint of a grin on his lips. “It cuts a formidable image when your guest has no concern for poison.”
“As if you don’t already,” you retort.
“You flatter me.”
“Oh, like you’re not aware.” You roll your eyes. “Where are we even going?”
“Somewhere private,” he says.
You raise your brows. Feyd-Rautha pushes his shoulder suddenly against what you thought until that point was a wall, but it swings open on an invisible seam. “Not like that,” he says, amusement coloring his tone. “Although I could never refuse you, wife.”
The room he leads you into is mostly bare except for a few maps on the walls and a table in the center. You recognize the surface of the table as the topography of Giedi Prime, the vast plains and tiny boxes representing the plethora of factories. You ghost your fingers over it. “What is this place?”
“My strategy room.” When you glance at him imploringly, he sighs and adds in a resigned tone, “Sometimes I find working with the other nobles tedious. I spend my time alone if possible.”
“Hm.” You sit down at the table and try to imagine Feyd-Rautha presiding over it, testing out battle strategies and war maneuvers.
You must sink too far into your own thoughts because it startles you when he sets down a small glass in front of you, nestled in the space between two miniature factories. “We need to start small,” he tells you.
“What is this?”
“Poison.”
You shoot him an annoyed look. “It would just be nice to know what poison I’m ingesting, is all.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He plants his hands on the table and assumes a position that you have a hard time believing he doesn’t know stirs something dark within you. “I’m going to be giving you small doses of poisons most typically used throughout the Known Universe.”
“You’re so kind,” you mutter.
He nudges the glass closer to you. “This is the weakest one of them all. We can work our way up, gauge their effects on you.”
“Like what?” You think back to the day in the arena with Ze’ev, how the flip-dart hidden in his clothing quickly incapacitated you, turning your thoughts to sludge.
“Fatigue. Nausea. Potential fevers, chills, heart palpitations.”
“Oh,” you say miserably, “is that all?”
“No, actually,” he replies, oblivious to your fear, “but sometimes it’s better not to know. Drink.”
Your stomach twists with nerves. But he’s watching you in that anxiety-inducing way he tends to, so you tip the contents of the glass down your throat. He smiles.
Poison training is hell.
You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s not this — constantly being gripped by fatigue and nausea, your body battling persistently against the poisons.
The beginning was the worst. You had never thrown up so much in your life. Feyd-Rautha assured you that you were tolerating the poison better than most, but you highly doubted that. You were couch-ridden for days on end, too weak to move or do much more than eat the food he forced you to. But, slowly, you adjusted to the poison, and Feyd-Rautha gave you higher doses, stronger strains.
A week away from your wedding, he declares that he won’t give you anything new. “But you must continue to take the poisons from before,” he tells you. “Or your body will lose the tolerance and also go through withdrawals.”
Today, however, is one of the worst days you’ve had. You did everything right, but for some reason you were rendered completely helpless, body racked by intense shivers. You are huddled in the corner of the couch in the antechamber when Feyd-Rautha finds you, stopping him in his tracks.
“H-H-Hi,” you sputter.
He crosses the room in a single stride, ripping off your blanket and assessing your shuddering form. “You used too much,” he says accusingly.
“I-I-I did what you-you told me,” you protest, albeit weakly.
His frown pierces you. You’re afraid he’s going to reprimand you, but instead he takes a step backward. “Go to the bed.”
“I-I’m f-f-fine. I can s-stay here.”
He looses a sigh then, effortlessly, sweeps you off the couch and over his shoulder. You want to fight against him but it’s taking all of your strength not to shiver and let him know just how poorly you are.
“Put me d-down,” you try your best to say, but with your face buried in his back, it comes out muffled.
Feyd-Rautha resists your pitiful attempts of subterfuge, and carries you into the bedroom like you weigh nothing. It’s your first time actually being on the bed, and his faintly medicinal scent pervades your senses. Had you ever even seen him sleep in here before? How did it smell so strongly of him?
He props you up against the pillows. You attempt to pull up the bedding to ward off your chill, but he stops you, which requires little effort on his part. You blink. In reply, he reaches into the top drawer of his bedside table and takes out a blunt-looking dagger.
“W-What are y-you doing?”
Feyd-Rautha presses the blade of the dagger against his forearm, cuts a thin line that weeps with a thick, dark liquid that you realize is his blood. You feel dizzy.
“Wh-What —”
“Just stop talking,” Feyd-Rautha growls. “We clot quickly. Drink.”
Drink? You're not entirely sure how well your emotions are coming across in your current state, but he must know how insane he sounds. Well, more insane than usual.
"I-I'm not —" Before your eyes, his dark-colored blood ceases. He utters something under his breath and then puts the dagger to his skin again, cutting it back open like slotting an envelope.
He captures a drop of it on his thumb and pushes it between your lips.
It doesn’t taste quite as bitterly sweet as his cum, you decide, but possesses the same sharp bite. It sears slightly as it dances on your tongue, down your throat.
“More,” he says. He sits down at the edge of the bed and raises his forearm to your mouth.
With no other choices, you obey.
The blood is thicker here, his skin warm beneath your mouth as you lick at the shallow wound. Any strangeness you felt at his request vanishes as the potency of his blood hits you. You hungrily take your fill, and by the time the wound closes again, it’s chased away your chills and the murkiness evading your mind.
“There,” he rasps. He sets the dagger down on the bed, still sporting a trace of his blood.
“Why…why?”
Feyd-Rautha’s lips twitch. “Harkonnen blood is its own sort of poison, courtesy of our planet’s pollution and smog. I suspected it would be enough to counterbalance the poison already in your system.”
You fixate on the wound, how the blood has already congealed. “It stopped,” you say stupidly. But how could you be expected to think properly — you had just drank from his arm, from his blood, to stave off poison that you’d willing ingested.
Feyd-Rautha nods. “Another benefit.”
“Anywhere on your body? It does that?”
He indicates the dagger. “See for yourself.”
A chill runs through you, but now for an entirely different reason. You inch closer to him, tucking your legs under you. He’s agonizingly close, his dark gaze flickering across your face as you take the dagger and touch the tip of the blade to his chin.
“Is that just a ploy so that I’ll cut you?” You ask, heart pounding furiously. You discover with a sickening twist that you do want to cut him, want to slide the blade across his smooth skin and watch the way the blood rises to greet you.
Feyd-Rautha breathes, “Perhaps.”
You’ve never seen him so transfixed, so compliant. Eager. And with his very blood in your veins, emboldening you, issuing a high like you’ve never felt before — you press the blade into his skin. Blood trickles out, and you use your tongue to lick it up, the metallic taste of the blade mingling with the sharpness of his blood.
Next you take the dagger across his jaw, down the column of his throat to the divot that flutters with his pulse. And then down down down to his chest, shearing his shirt with a single slice.
Feyd-Rautha has an infuriatingly perfect chest — muscled, small, tight nipples that you tease with the edge of the blade. He inhales sharply.
“You’re disgusting,” you say without conviction, your free hand gliding down his toned stomach.
He tilts his face up to you. The gesture is so vulnerable, his expression so devastatingly beautiful, that you climb into his lap. His cock, straining against his pants, nudges your center.
“I hate you,” you tell him.
He whispers, “I know.”
There’s no telling who kisses who first — an impasse to your game of trading punishments. His hands are on you in an instant, over your body and in your hair, clamoring to touch you as if you might disappear at any moment. You’re equally as fervent, notching your thumbs by his jaw on either side and holding him to you, mouths open and hungry. His tongue dances over your lips, behind your teeth.
Feyd-Rautha is his own kind of poison, infiltrating you slowly and feasting on your insides. And you take him in like his kisses are the anecdote, the touch of his hands soothing the ache that his particular brand of poison causes.
Though, if he is poison, you can never imagine adapting to this — his passionate, consuming touch, the whine of his desperation, how he embraces you like it’s everything he’s ever wanted. No, if he is poison, you never want to learn to tolerate him.
His fingers work deftly at your clothes. The air rushes to caress your breast, hardening your nipples. Feyd-Rautha closes his lips on one as he palms his hand over the other, and the wet warmth of his mouth sends you to the edge. Your back bows in response, urging him closer. He bites down at your nipple, tugs on it, swipes his tongue over it like a soothing balm, then repeats the process on the other side.
As soon as your mind clears enough to form a rational thought, you fumble to unbuckle his pants. He helps you — one hand on your ass for support as he lifts up his hips and you wriggle his pants down over them.
His cock, liberated from his pants, slaps against his stomach. He fists the base and indulges in a series of lazy strokes.
Fuck.
“Fuck,” you say aloud.
Feyd-Rautha, returning his mouth to yours, smirks against you. “Your turn.”
He flips you over onto your back in a seamless maneuver, securing your legs around his waist. Feyd-Rautha lingers above you. His dark gaze roams your form as you shimmy out of your dress, leaving you only in your panties. Sometime before he grabbed the dagger, and now uses it to trace a line from between your breasts to your navel.
You gasp. Pain radiates from the thin cut he made, a terrible, delicious heat.
It’s his turn to tend to you now, hands coasting your body as he licks a stripe up your wound and back down, your blood blanketing his tongue. He pauses at your panties, uses both hands to seize you by the hips and drag you to the very edge of the bed, then kneels before you.
You’re already slick with desire and you want to be ashamed but you can’t, not when he ghosts his mouth over your center and you cry out in need.
“So wet for me, wife,” Feyd-Rautha growls. “You want this cock inside you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathe out. You claw at the bedding, pulling it taunt around you.
“Oh, but I’ve been waiting for this. To taste you. God, you don’t know how hard it’s been knowing that you’re always just on the other side of that door.” Feyd-Rautha replaces his mouth with the dagger’s blade and you clench in anticipation. The tip of it traces the edges of your panties, your lips, nudges against your entrance. “You infuriate me. I cannot stop thinking of you.”
You’re too overwhelmed to make sense of his admission, but it sends a ripple of delight through you nonetheless. You buck your hips, desperate for the friction that only his mouth can provide.
“Please,” you beg.
The blade of the dagger stills. “Please what?”
“Please.”
You can’t think of anything else to say.
He urges, “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“I want your mouth on my —”
Feyd-Rautha impatiently cuts away your panties, effectively silencing you. His mouth encloses on your clit. Your words turn into a wail of surprise, of pleasure when he applies pressure with his tongue and then sucks.
Ecstasy spirals through you.
It shouldn’t be a shock that he’s skillful at pleasuring you, at lapping between your lungs like your cunt is the sweetest dessert, yet it still resonates — how he knows exactly when and where to lick, to suckle, to coax more pleading moans from you with his tongue.
And when you come you unravel completely.
“So greedy,” he murmurs as you rise your hips back up to him, beckoning him to continue. “You try to rebel against the idea but you want this cock buried deep inside you, coating you with my cum. Is that right?”
“Yes —”
He slams himself up to the hilt inside you. You cry out in equal parts agony and desire, back bowing, walls stretching to accommodate him. Feyd-Rautha doesn’t wait for you to adjust, drawing out and back in with feverish vigor. His hands pin you to the bed to keep you from arching away, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.
“You feel incredible,” he says, your name falling from your lips like a prayer. “So nice and tight.”
You clench around him. Feyd-Rautha mumbles his appreciation, slows his movements. “I won’t be able to last if you keep doing that,” he tells you, “you feel so good. So fucking good.”
You put up a protest as he withdraws, leaving you feeling horribly empty. Feyd-Rautha turns you onto your belly, ensures that your knees are at the edge of the bed, ass up. A mortifying heat surges through you — completely exposed, vulnerable to his wandering gaze. He runs his hand over your ass, drifts to your soaked cunt.
“I want to possess you wholly.”
You whimper in response. You hear movement from behind, and, in the absence of his attention, dip your hand down to your cunt to alleviate the mounting pressure, but you’re declined the pleasure.
“I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”
He lines himself with your entrance. This time when he seats himself inside you it’s painfully slow, deliberate, every inch driving you closer to another orgasm. Feyd-Rautha starts a slow pace, pulling his cock out till his swollen head brushes past your lips, then back in. Eventually he increases his speed until he’s snapping his hips against you, penetrating you deeply, fully, invoking breathless sounds from both of you.
Feyd-Rautha pursues his pleasure the same way he fights — violent, ruthless in its execution. You’re aware, somewhere in the recesses of your mind, that you’re going to be a quivering mess tomorrow. But in the moment you can only immerse yourself in this man: Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, a monster in his own right.
In a burst of bright light, an orgasm cleaves you in half, Feyd-Rautha pumping into you until it surrenders to his darkness. Before you can even recover, you feel the familiar coldness of the dagger’s blade biting into your back, down your spine, circling your ass.
He brushes his thumb over your ass. “Have you ever been taken here before?”
Your breath hitches. “Once.”
Feyd-Rautha emits a satisfied hum. From your peripheral you watch him reach into the bedside table again, this time to fish out a cloth to wipe down the dagger. Your walls clench.
“I want to see this dagger in that pretty ass of yours.”
Feyd-Rautha traces your cunt, gathering your wetness on his fingers to coat the handle of the dagger. He spits on your ass, rubs it over you. “You have to relax,” he rasps. The handle of the dagger pushes against you and you instinctively flex as the first ridge enters you. “Relax, wife.“
You oblige, and he’s able to ease the rest of it inside. It’s tight, full, uncomfortable, but not unbearable. When you feel Feyd-Rautha notch himself at your entrance, alarm seizes you. “What are you —?”
He plunges himself inside you.
And as he does, the blade of the knife punctures his skin with a soft squelch.
You gasp. A growl rumbles through his chest. You can’t see, but you can hear the blade pierce him with each ministration of his hips. You can’t believe him, what he’s doing, but the sounds he makes as he enters you and the dagger enters him at the same time are inescapable, intoxicating. And with the added fullness of his cock and the handle of the dagger, you build towards your orgasm, toes curling.
Feyd-Rautha sinks into you again and again, dagger piercing his side. It prompts a steady stream of his blood that joins with your slickness. His breath quickens. “You take my cock so well. Look at you, so full, so beautiful.”
He slows to remove the dagger from you, taking his time as not to harm you. You shudder. The dagger is tossed to the side still covered in his blood.
“I get to fuck this pretty pussy as much as I want,” he rasps, more to himself than you. “Fill you with my seed, over and over until it takes, then fuck you when you’re pregnant and round with my child. Fuck. I want to see you. I want to see your face as I cum inside you for the first time.”
The image he paints has you gasping for breath. Eager to please, you turn onto your back and present yourself to him. Feyd-Rautha is a god of war, of wrath, wreathed in shadows, and he buries himself into you like he’s seeking redemption. You cry out as he nears his own orgasm, tears blurring your eyes — he sheathes himself fully one final time then spills his seed in your cunt.
Your walls pulse, clamping down around him. He holds you close as he finishes, warm breath fanning your skin, jolting slightly. It’s only when he removes himself, bites playfully at your breast, that you realize the wetness you feel dripping onto your belly is his blood.
“Feyd — what, what were you thinking?” You shove him off you.
He stands, naked form on display, blood dribbling down from the wound in his stomach. It’s distracting, frankly, and it just reminds you of how it had gotten there.
“I wasn’t,” he says simply.
You open your mouth to say something else, reprimand him, maybe, but then he runs his fingers along your thigh and scoops up the cum that’s escaped from inside you. He pushes it back into your cunt, which is still beating with the memory of his cock, blissfully sore.
Feyd-Rautha says, “Don’t worry about me, wife. I will heal. You worry about keeping me inside you.”
He stands to walk away and as he does, you mutter to no one, “I wasn’t worried” although you were. You tilt your hips up. Getting pregnant isn’t exactly your top priority right now, but the alternative is having his cum dribble down your thighs, and the black fluid is a little concerning to see smeared across your skin.
What child could be born from such a substance?
You angle your head to see Feyd-Rautha. He stands at the threshold of the bathroom, back turned to you. You admire his physique. For all of his misgivings — his psychotic tendencies, the murder, the way he plays his games with you — he’s irritatingly attractive. You close your eyes and let your head thump onto the bed.
You open them again when you hear the bedroom door swing open. “Are you leaving?” You ask, exasperated.
“Yes,” Feyd-Rautha says. He’s dressed, sadly. “I have other business to tend to.”
You scowl at the implication of being business.
“I’ll be back before the wedding. Keep up with your tolerance. Just know that I won’t fuck you every time you over dose,” he tells you. A million questions jump to mind — and quite a few curses — but he’s gone before you can say any of them.
Spent and still reeling from your recent fucking, you collapse back onto the bed and throw your arm over your eyes. What were you doing?
You were going to marry him.
Part 7
Taglist:
@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper
@beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @kpopnstarwars @m-indkiller
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neos127 · 2 months
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pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader wc. 430 cw. reader is described as girly in this notes. jake as spiderman hcs will be coming next ofc
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Being Spider-man’s girlfriend was hard. It was even harder when the villains that wanted him got to you as bait. You’ve had about five dresses ruined, ten barrettes lost and a plethora of broken nails before you had a mental breakdown one night. Jake promised to replace everything and while you appreciated it, you told him to save his money. That would probably be ruined too.
If you weren’t kidnapped by some flying vulture or psychotic green goblin- then you were caught in the crossfire of Jake fighting one of them. Sometimes, and only for a split second, you would question why you stuck around. But as soon as the thought came, it left and caused you to feel guilty for even thinking about it. You were absolutely in love with Jake and couldn’t bear to leave him. Even though your life was constantly in danger, he’d always come to save you.
“Aren’t I supposed to be patching you up?” You giggled, wincing when he carefully cleaned up the deep cut on your face. It was yet another run in with Vulture and if Jake had shown up five seconds too late- you would have been street-pizza.
“Yeah, but I heal quicker than you.” Jake mumbled, his eyes still showing concern. You had reassured him that you were fine, multiple times, but he didn’t want to leave your side. His mask was discarded on the floor and you were able to see his pretty face. Bruised and cut, but still pretty nonetheless.
“I promise I'll buy you a hundred bows and headbands and all the pink stuff you could imagine. Or even those macaroons you like from the bakery down the block..oh hey, didn’t you say you wanted to get your nails done? I can give you money.” Jake rambled, listing off things to make you feel better. You had never asked for them, Jake was just thoughtful (and felt insanely guilty about putting you in near death situations). You stopped his rambling by holding his face in your hands, smiling at him to show that you weren’t upset.
“You don’t have to get me anything. Knowing that you’re alive and well is more than enough for me.” You said sincerely, looking into his eyes directly. Jake bit back a smile, nodding in understanding. He thought it was cute how you never really expected anything from him, even though he still went out and got stuff for you anyways.
“Although…maybe those macaroons would be nice right about now.” You mumbled, giving the boy a shy smile. He chuckled before standing up to look for some clothes to put on. Jake never wasted time when it came to you.
“Whatever you want, princess.”
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©neos127
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five-rivers · 15 days
Text
radiology
for @dekalko-mania and @dragonsdomain
Danny looked down at his arm and leg, then up at the ER desk, then over to his mother, sitting next to him, who had witnessed the car ‘clipping’ him.  Unknown to her, it had done quite a bit more than clip him.  Anyone else, and the driver’d have a vehicular homicide charge on his hands, not just a hit and run.  
If she hadn’t been watching– If he’d seen the car– 
Well, then he wouldn’t be in this mess, would he?  He would’ve dodged, or gone intangible, or just hidden the injuries he did get until they cleared up.  Just like he’d hidden all the other injuries he’d gotten that week. 
Although, he could admit that these were pretty bad, all things considered.  Worse than he usually got, which was incredible, considering he’d gotten it from something as banal as a car accident. 
Less banal were the other injuries he was sporting.  Like, new broken bones and bruises?  That’s what he was supposed to have.  That’s what was normal to have after a car accident.
Old broken bones and bruises… He definitely still had the ones from being hit by the car, but they just as definitely had started healing already, faster than a normal human’s ever could.  So had the broken bones and bruises he’d gotten earlier in the week after a particularly nasty fight with Aragon, the bites from the ghost bear, the stab wound from an anti-ghost knife (thanks Valerie)...  But they were still there.  Those would be harder to explain.  If he even could explain them.  
He needed to figure out how to hide all of this.  Like, obviously, he couldn’t hide everything.  He had been hit by a car, and, more importantly, he’d been seen getting hit by a car.  But the weirder stuff?  He could do that.  
“Fentons?” called the receptionist.  “They’re ready with the x-ray.”
“He’s going to need a wheelchair,” said Maddie.  
They got him a wheelchair, despite his protests that he could still walk, and wheeled him over to radiology.  He eyed the x-ray machine with trepidation and distaste.  It didn’t look like much, not compared to some of the machines he’d been in, but that didn’t mean it didn’t have the power to destroy his life.  Metaphorically.  Probably couldn’t do it literally.  Probably.  
A woman leaned into the room.  “Mrs. Fenton, we have a question about your insurance.”
“Right, okay, I’ll be right back, sweetie.”
“Don’t worry,” said the radiologist, who was adjusting something on her computer.  “We’d actually ask you to leave the room while we did this anyway.  No reason to irradiate you today.”
“My jumpsuit would–”
“Mrs. Fenton, the insurance.”
“Yes, yes,” said Maddie, she walked out, leaving Danny behind with the radiologist and the nurse that had helped them back here.  
The nurse helped the doctor make sure he was arranged properly for the x-ray, each limb in place, while the radiologist took a series of images.  Then he got him back into the wheelchair.  
“Thanks David, I think we’ll be okay here for now, if you need to get back to the ER.  I’ll call Molly when Mr. Fenton’s ready to get his bones set.”
“Alright,” said the nurse, nodding.  “You’ll be in good hands, kid, Molly’s great.”
That left Danny alone with the radiologist, who was clicking through Danny’s x-rays on her computer and rapidly paling.  With a flash, he went ghost and phased into the radiologist.  
He didn’t like overshadowing people very much anymore.  It had been fun at first, getting to be someone else.  Like playing a part.  But being the part, being puppeted… That was a lot less fun, and once Danny realized that, he stopped, except for when it was going to save a life.  Or his secret.  Which was pretty much his life.  
He stared at the computer screen.  Overshadowing someone didn’t mean that he knew what they knew.  Not really.  But he did get echoes.  Impressions.  Bits of emotion.  Sometimes, he even got a snippet of something they knew so well that it was basically muscle memory.  So, he knew his x-rays were screwed up, but not in what way, except–
Oh, yeah.  That would do it.  That was probably it, anyway.  He’d forgotten that he’d phased the thermos into his stomach to hide it, earlier.  Along with a couple pencils, a spoon, and various other small objects.  That was probably also related to why his liver felt so bruised…  He hadn’t realized it’d show up in x-ray even though it was intangible, but then, Danny was still visible while intangible, unless he went invisible at the same time, so…  Yeah…  Huh, the physics behind that had to be wild. 
But that wasn’t relevant right now.  He was hurt enough that he didn’t think he could hold onto the radiologist for more than a few minutes longer.  She wasn’t really fighting him, but she had a strong sense of self.  
However… he deleted all his x-rays.  That was step one.  Now, she had to have, like, spares or something.  Something he could substitute in for the images he’d just deleted.  He minimized the window and started looking through the radiologist’s files.  The spares might not have bones broken in the same places… or even broken bones at all, but that was fine.  People got lucky in accidents all the time.  He could play it off as the car not hitting him that hard.  Or something.  
Panic and aching pain may have disrupted his thought processes just a little bit.  
Finally, he found something labeled EXAMPLE 20XX.  That’d work.  That was over ten years ago, for all that it looked like the right file type for the x-ray program, so hopefully the radiologist wouldn’t recognize it.  
He loaded the pictures up and fled the radiologist’s body.  Just in time, too.  As the radiologist was orienting herself, Maddie came back in, a scowl on her face.  However, the scowl quickly turned into naked worry when she saw Danny.  
“Were you able to take his pictures already?”
“Yes, we have a new fast imager.  But these are…”  She trailed off, examining the screen intensely.  
“Is something wrong?” asked Maddie.
“Well,” said the radiologist, “come look.”
Maddie crossed the distance between Danny and the radiologist.  “Oh, thank goodness, I don’t see any breaks.”
“And that would be good, if these were his bones.”
“They’re not?”
“Not unless he’s a thirty-five year old woman,” she said.  “Sorry, this is my sample set.  It shouldn’t be connected to his– Nothing like this has happened before.  I didn’t even have my samples open.”
“Could the undo button help?” asked Maddie.  
“I mean, if they were in here at all, maybe,” said the radiologist.  
Tucker was going to kill him for not restarting that program.  And the computer.  And emptying the ‘trash’ bin.  And probably a dozen other things that would have prevented from the radiologist and his mother being able to restore everything with a few clicks of an ‘undo’ button.  
“Oh, here they are, they’re…”  She started losing color again.  “Mrs. Fenton, do you have any idea what this… what these things are?  Or how he could have…  Dear lord, I think these are more break than bone.”  
Maddie turned to Danny.  Her stance looked casual, but Danny knew she could whip out a gun faster than you could blink.  
“Danny,” she said, “can you explain any of this?”
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xcaptain-winterx · 1 year
Note
Requests are open you say? How about Steve Rogers having a huge crush on the new recruit (reader) and being very awkward in trying to pursue her
Be a man
Steve Rogers x reader
summary: above
warnings: fluff, awkwardness, shy Steve, cum
a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.
Part 2
Main Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Steven Grant Rogers also known as the hero Captain America. Fought against Hydra and their leader Red Skull, his brainwashed best friend, Ultron, his own team and even Thanos. You would think that Americas golden boy is unstoppable, that nothing can stop him.
You’re wrong.
See, Steve has years of experience in fighting due to the fact that he’s over a hundred years old and fought in World War Two. The only thing he doesn’t know about, or to be more specific, doesn’t have any experience with, is the opposite sex. Steve has never been on a date or had a real first kiss. Ok, yeah, he kissed Peggy and Natasha once, but that meant nothing. God, he’s still a virgin.
To sum it up, Steve is an awkward bean around women. He doesn’t always show it obviously, but ask him something not work related with a flirty smile, and he starts to sweats like a polar bear in the desert.
Steve always thought that he was going to be able to talk to ‘the girl’ once he saw her, that he will have no problem to communicate with her.
He thought wrong.
Steve is in the training room, punching the punching bag until it falls off again. He was supposed to be training with Sam, but he hasn’t shown up. So far, Sam always showed up or at least texted him if something came in between and he couldn’t make it. Steve stops hitting the punching bag and goes over to the bench where his phone is laying. He picks it up and swipes it open, seeing that he didn’t receive any text message from Sam.
It’s not normal for Sam to be late, so Steve decides that he’s going to look for Sam. He puts his phone in his pocket and walks out of the gym, in the direction of the living area.
As he walks down the hallway Bucky crosses his path, “Hey pal, have you seen Sam”, Steve asks.
“No, but I can imagine he’s talking to the new recruits, telling them something about teamwork makes the dream work, or some other shit”, Bucky says, mimicking Sam’s voice.
Steve’s brows furrow; what new recruits? Steve heard nothing about new recruits. “I don’t know anything about new recruits?”
“Transferred from a SHIELD base in Germany, I think. Sam will probably force us to introduce us to them”, Bucky says. Steve knows that it’s hard for Bucky to talk or communicate with new and many people at once, but he knows that he’s trying his best. Since he began going to therapy, his old self made more and more of an appearance, and Bucky feels a lot better in general even though it’s hard sometimes. He’s proud of Bucky. He’s trying his best.
“Better we do it now than later. Come on, Buck”, Steve says, patting his shoulder, and pulling him with him.
Bucky lets out a chuckle, “Ok”.
Both super soldiers walk towards the meeting rooms, thinking they might be there when Bucky suddenly stops walking. Steve looks at Bucky, silently questioning why he stopped. Bucky reads Steve’s facial expression before pointing towards the end of the hallway, “found him”.
Steve follows Buckys finger and sees Sam. Sam is not alone, he’s with a woman. A beautiful woman. A goddess.
Bucky sees Steve’s face heating up. “You good, pal?” he asks with a teasing voice. Steve doesn’t answer him, to lost in the woman’s beauty next to Sam. Bucky snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face, trying to get him back to reality, but it doesn’t work.
Lost in thoughts, or to be more specific the woman, Steve doesn’t see how Sam noticed them too, and is calling them over.
“Steve!”
Steve comes back to reality when Sam calls him for the third time. Bucky laughs at Steve’s confused puppy stare, looking like he just woke up from a coma without any knowledge of what happened before. It gets worse as they see how Sam and the woman are now walking towards them. Bucky feels Steve panicking next to him. “Hey Steve, calm down, ok?” Bucky whispers to him.
“Mhm”, Steve answers, not being able to form any words. Sam and the Woman getting closer and closer to them.
“Remember, we just introduce ourselves” Bucky tries to calm him down, his own anxiety leaving and instead focusing on helping his friend, “You can do this. Just remember to think and talk at the same time, and don’t just stare at her”. If his friend wasn’t looking like a dead fish Bucky would’ve really enjoyed this moment. Him helping his friend talk to a woman like he did back in the 40s, but nothing about Steve’s current problem is funny. Well, maybe the fact that he for real looks like a dead fish.
“Ok” Steve says.
“Ok”
“Ok”
“You can do this, Steve”
“Ok”
And the woman gets closer and closer.
Steve begins to murmur what he wants to say, making Bucky look nervously at him.
The woman and Sam are now almost completely by them as Steve suddenly says, “I need to finish the mission report”, before sprinting the other direction.
“Hey, why did Steve-“ Sam can’t finish because Bucky is already sprinting after Steve, leaving him and the woman utterly confused. “BUCKY!”
Sam puts his hands on his hips, “normally they are not like this, ok? They probably just remembered to take their anti-aging cream”. He turns to you, “Super soldiers, you know”.
You smile as Sam claps your shoulders and says, “how about I show you the training room?”. You nod, letting him lead you to the training room.
Meanwhile, Steve is sprinting towards his room, looking like a gazelle who’s running away from a predator. Steve thought he could talk to her, but no.
Once he reaches his room, he locks the door, and then just stands there, staring at the locked door; what just happened? He begins to hyperventilate like how his pre serum self did when he had an asthma attack. The room feels like it’s shrinking. Steve feels small and scared. Just the sight of the woman made him with a snap of a finger feel like his weak 40s self before the serum. Back when no one liked him.
While Steve is having a panic attack, Bucky is running towards Steve’s room. Bucky started running after him some seconds after he sprinted away, and normally Bucky would’ve caught up to him, but Steve’s panic and the super soldier serum made it a bit difficult. Luckily, Bucky knows Steve like no one else and knows that he’s hiding in his room.
“Steve?” Bucky asks, knocking on the door. “You good, pal? Can I come in?”. He waits, but no answer comes, so he tries opening the door but it’s locked.
Bucky sighs, “Steve, let me in”.
On the other side, Steve is debating if he should let his best friend in. His debating goes too long for Bucky though because the next thing Steve hears is Bucky saying ‘Friday unlock the door’, and the door opens.
Bucky walks in, seeing a teared eyed Steve who’s breathing fast and heavy. Bucky strikes over to him and pulls him slowly down to the floor, sitting face to face with each other. He takes his hand and puts it on his heart, “Steve, hey. Focus on me. Focus on my heartbeat. You feel mine?” Bucky says, putting his other hand on Steve’s heart, feeling how his heart is still beating fast. “Steve, focus on my heartbeat”.
Steve looks at his friend and tries to focus on his heart. He closes his eyes, only trying to listen to Bucky’s heartbeat. “Yeah, I feel it”.
Bucky gives him a smile, “ok, good”.
They sit in silent for a few minutes, Steve’s heart beating now slower and his breaths coming out normally.
Bucky waits until Steve’s heartbeat is fully back to normal before asking “better?”.
Steve nods, “I didn’t think we would have had to use that method on me”, he says chuckling.
This calming method showed Bucky’s therapist, Steve. She told him that it would help Bucky calm down when he’s having a panic attack, and it did in fact help. The night after she explained it to him, Bucky woke up from a nightmare and started to panic. Steve’s room is right next to him, so he heard his friend’s panic. He tried the method that night and it worked perfectly. It took some while until Bucky calmed down, but it was way faster than without the method, and Bucky was able to fall asleep again after.
To other people, this method may look a bit weird, but it calms his best friend down, so who cares? It’s also no surprise that Steve is the only one allowed to do this method. Sam once tried it and Bucky punched him in his face when he put his hand on his chest. Sam left the room angrily and annoyed with a broken bloody nose. Bucky punched him with his metal arm. He thought Sam was in danger that second and in a state of danger he uses his metal arm. Bucky apologized to Sam though, and he truly felt bad and sorry. Sam instantly forgave him though, he knows it wasn’t his intention.
At least not in that situation.
Bucky even ‘baked’ Sam some brownies. Well, more like bought some Brownies and said he baked them. Sam knew he didn’t, but said nothing and just enjoyed eating some good, tasteless brownies with a smile on his face.
“Well, we didn’t think you would ever run away from a girl”.
Steve sighs, “Yeah. Back then, they would run away from me. Now it’s me running away”
“Why did you?”
Steve shakes his head. “I don’t know. I got scared I guess?”.
When Steve looks at Bucky again, he comes to face with a blank stare. It kinda reminds him of Bucky’s winter soldier stare. If they weren’t having an emotional and serious conversation, Steve would’ve been actually concerned that something happened that made Bucky go into Winter Soldier mindset.
Bucky scares Steve when he suddenly jumps up, “You know what” he pulls Steve up, almost making him fall over “You will have that girl”.
“Huh?” he asks, confused.
“Or just someone”.
He doesn’t like the thought of Bucky helping him. Bucky was a true player back then, a gentleman, but a player.
“I help you talk to women. I can do that. I did that a hundred years ago” he stops when he realizes “fucking hell, that’s a long time ago”.
Steve scowls, “Language, Buck”.
“Sorry”.
“I get that you’re trying to help me, and I appreciate that” Steve takes a deep breath before continuing, “but I can’t”
“Why?” Bucky asks crossing his arms, standing like an angry parent.
“I just can’t, ok? Also, colleges are not allowed to be in a romantic relationship”.
“Then look for someone else. There��s this woman named Leah. She works at my favorite sushi place and I heard-“
“I don’t want someone else!”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. “Ohhhh, so you want her. Ok, Steven. I see you”. He winks at Steve as he groans.
“I didn’t say that. I just-ugh, I like her, but-there’s not gonna be anything between us” he tries to give his best friend a reassuring smile, but knowingly fails. “You can ask Leah out”, Steve tries changing the topic.
“No, she’s not my type”.
Bucky knows that Steve won’t stop having a crush on the new recruit. It took Steve a hundred years to get over Peggy. He was still in love with her even after being unfrozen. Now imagine he’s thinking about the new recruit until he dies. Bucky doesn’t want that. God, he was honestly happy when Peggy passed. That woman was like a snake slithering her way into his friends heart only to poison it. He didn’t like her from the second she interrupted Steve and his conversation. Dumb Bitch.
He wants his friend to be happy. He wants to be an uncle. He hopes Steve will get himself together and talk to her.
“Ok. Whatever you say”, Bucky says, patting him on his shoulder. They continue talking, but this time about what movie they are going to watch for their ‘we need to learn about cinematic history’ movie night. While talking, Bucky’s mind continues to wander back to their original conversation, and about the fact that Steve doesn’t want some dating teaching from him. In all honesty, he’s slightly hurt by that.
He could still help him somehow, though.
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It’s been a week now since he saw the new recruit and he’s been trying to avoid any situation that could lead to him seeing her. Steve knows it sounds silly, but he’s scared of her. Scared of seeing her. Scared of her seeing him. He hasn’t been training for a week. Steve knows the chances are high that she will be there. The only sort of trying he did this week was going for a run. Alone.
Sam noticed a change in Steve. Everybody did. Steve was never a huge extrovert and now he’s such an introvert. He doesn’t even eat with them anymore because she could be there, or just walk past them eating.
Today he needs to be brave, though. Bucky asked him to train together because he’s the only good match for him. Bucky told him that winning against Sam slowly starts to get boring, and that Steve needs to train again. Cardio is good, but Steve needs to do more.
After trying to convince Bucky that they can also train outside or anywhere else than the training room, he knew from Bucky’s reaction that it’s not gonna happen. So now he’s on his way to meet Bucky in the training room.
To say Steve is nervous is an understatement, he’s almost shitting his pants.
Bucky assured him they would have the room for themselves and Steve just hopes that that’s true.
Steve walks into the gym and surprisingly sees no one. No Bucky. Steve was already late because he was nervous, so it confuses him why Bucky isn’t here. He looks at the clock on the wall and sees that he’s sixteen minutes late, meaning Bucky is to late too.
“Maybe he’s still asleep”, Steve tells himself. Technically, he would be happy that Bucky is able to sleep, but it’s the first time since a week that he’s training and last time, Sam already didn’t come.
He is just about to go to Bucky’s room when he hears a soft voice.
“Well, it’s only seven in the morning”.
Steve turns around and freezes.
It’s the woman
Oh, no no no no no
“Every normal person would be asleep at this time”.
Steve is unable to speak, he’s just staring at her. Not even blinking, just staring.
She looks at him with a smile, waiting for an answer, or just something.
When Steve realizes that she’s waiting for an answer, he clears his throat. “Yeah, uhm-I uh, I mean he likes to sleep-uh- he can’t sleep that much and-uhm yeah. He normally only uhm-sleeps with me- Wait not like that-uh I mean, he just likes to sleep with me-no. He uhm, he sleeps better with-me-uhm because I’m a good sleep partner- no, I just-uhm. IM NOT GAY”.
Steve looks at her with wide eyes. He knows he just made a fool of himself, so he tries to save himself.
Tries.
“There’s obviously nothing wrong with liking-uhm men, but I’m not like that. Yeah, uhm I hate men- wait not hate men, I like them, but platonic like ha ha. I like woman. But I’m not a relationship-I uhm”, he doesn’t want to look like he is desperate for a relationship. She could think that he’s trying to ‘hit on her’. He believes that what it’s called, but you can never trust Tony. “I’m not into relationship- uhm, the romantic, uh, kind-just the other kind”
Now she looks at him with wide eyes. The only other non-relationship kind she can think of is the sexual one. She can’t believe that Captain Rogers, the golden boy, is such a man. The worst part is that Steve doesn’t understand what he just said and instead looks at her with a nervous smile. Poor boy thought it sounded more like normal relationship, platonic kind. It didn’t, though.
“You do you, I guess” she says, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. She didn’t think her first time meeting Captain America would be like this.
Steve sees that she’s not comfortable or at least confused by what he’s saying. Maybe she doesn’t like his answer.
So he continues to try to fix this conversation.
“I uhm I would like a relationship-with someone-uh I want to-“ he can’t say dancing, that sounds boring. He needs to come up with something that everyone does these days. Something that she would probably like “do Netflix and chill”.
Steve needs to get better at telling when he can trust Tony and when not.
“Oh, uhm” she doesn’t know what to say “that’s nice I guess”.
Right now, Steve would rather fight against HYDRA than talk to her. He can feel how he’s sweating. And if that already isn’t bad enough, he starts to really look at her. Oh boy.
She’s wearing tight black leggings with a matching black sport bra. She must’ve been already training for a while because he sees some drops of sweat on her chest area, running to her cleavage. Steve is directly looking at her cleavage, not taking his eyes off it.
He doesn’t notice that he’s looking at it, well, that he’s so obviously looking at it.
She puts her left hand on her right shoulder, acting like she’s massaging it, and not like she’s trying to cover her chest.
Steve’s eyes move to hers, and it only takes three seconds until realization hits him.
“Shit!” he screams, making her jump “oh, I’m sorry I didn’t want to scare you-I uhm, and I didn’t want to stare at your you know-chest. Not because they are not pretty, they are-NO Uhmmm, they uh. It’s just”.
Steve stops talking when the door opens and Bucky walks in with a smile on his face “Language, Steve. Good morning you two”. At least someone is having one.
“Morning”, she says, smiling at his best friend before walking away to lift some weight. Deep down they are both happy that Bucky saved them from the awkward situation, though, Steve is also sad because he wanted to talk to her, to have a chance, but he failed.
Bucky smiles after her, then turns to Steve. “Hey Steve, how are you?”
“You knew, didn’t you” Steve almost spats, his voice echoing throughout the training room. He turns around and sees how she is looking at them.
He quickly turns back around, facing Bucky, who just gives him an innocent smile. “What do you mean Steve?”. Bucky knows that Steve can’t say anything about that, due to the fact that she can hear everything they are saying.
Steve glares at him, grinding his teeth. “That you would be late”, he lies.
“Yeah”.
Steve wants to scream, but he can’t “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his veins showing.
“I texted you, Punk”, Bucky says as he walks over to get a punching bag.
Steve frowns; Bucky didn’t text him. He pulls out his phone.
Love❤️‍🔥- I’ll be a bit late
Send one minute ago
Steve cringes as he sees the name Tony and Sam saved Bucky on his phone. He would rather want Punk with that heart. Platonic style. He doesn’t know how to change it, though.
“Didn’t you see my message?” Bucky gives him a fake questioning expression. A teasing one.
“I must have missed it”, Steve says in a monotone voice “I mean it says you send it a minute ago. Bucky”.
“Oh, you know. The signal is quite bad here”
Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, Bucky. You would’ve thought that Tony would’ve already handled it”.
Bucky snickers “Yeah”.
“Yeah”.
Bucky walks with the bag over his shoulder towards a hook to hang the bag on. He turns to look at Steve, a grin on his face when his eyes move to look behind Steve.
“Hey, how about you help her, Steve~”, Bucky says loudly.
Steve follows his eyes and sees how the recruit is struggling with moving some weights out of her way, so she can put the bench there to do some bench presses.
She looks at them and gives them a shy smile. “That would be kinda nice”.
Steve looks back at Bucky, panic in his eyes. Bucky gives him a big smile that says ‘yes’.
It’s time, it’s time to shine, Steve. He can do that, he can easily lift that.
‘Ok, Steve. Pull your ass cheeks together and help her’ he thinks to himself as he walks towards her. He stops in front of her, getting lost in her eyes for a second. This time he snaps back quickly though and moves the weights away.
“Thank you, Captain Rogers”, she says, his back still towards her.
“Mhm” he can’t bring out a single word. Instead of turning back to her, he sorts the weights, so she doesn’t see him blushing. “You-You’re welcome”.
He hears her getting on the bench and takes that as his cue to leave.
“Hey, Steve!”
Please, don’t Bucky.
“You should help her. Stay behind her to make sure that her arms don’t give in”
Steve doesn’t turn around this time. He can hear how she doesn’t lift any weight, meaning she is looking at them.
“Yeah, I uhm would, but- mission reports. I need to finish the mission report”, Steve lies “important stuff you know. Not like helping her isn’t important, but yeah. Avenger stuff is important….”.
It’s that second that Bucky realizes that Steve is the worst person in admitting his crush he ever met. The best friend he is, he needs to help him. “Oh, I already did them for you”.
Great, now Steve’s lie is a lie. Thank you, Bucky.
“No, I don’t think you did”, he tries to save himself “They were on my desk this morning, unfinished”
Good job, Steve.
“I did them this morning. We were on the same mission, Steve. Only one of us needs to do them” Bucky says, punching the bag “I send you a message”.
“No, you didn’t-“ he looks at his phone to see a message from Bucky.
Love❤️‍🔥-already did the mission report.
Send a minute ago.
Bucky knows Steve like the back of his hand. He knew what excuses he would use to try to flee the scene. A laugh almost leaves his mouth as he sees the face Steve is making. God, he missed teasing him.
“I thought you were asleep”.
“No, I wanted to finish it. You’ve been quite stressed the past week, and I wanted to lift some weight of your shoulders”.
“Thanks, James”.
The tension between them is noticeable. So noticeable that the recruit is more uncomfortable than when she was alone with Steve.
She gets their attention when she walks past them to grab her water bottle. “Have fun training”
“You already leaving?” Steve asks disappointed, sad that she’s leaving.
“Yeah, I’ve already been training before you both came. Also, I need to find Sam. He promised to show me the rest of the compound. I only saw half of the facility so far and don’t want to get lost at some point”, she says. So far she didn’t get lost because the most important areas were already introduced to her, but it’s better to know the whole compound. “Bye” she waves them before opening the door and walking through it.
No one says anything until the door closes. Bucky is the first to break the silence, “wow”.
“I know you did that on purpose!”
“I was trying to make you talk to her” he grabs his shoulder “I just want to help you. She’s a beautiful woman-“
“Hey!”
“See” Bucky says, “you’re jealous when I just say that she’s pretty. You have a crush on that girl, Steve”.
Steve sighs in defeat. “Ok, maybe”.
“I KNEW IT” Bucky screams, jumping like a little kid on Christmas morning “FUCK YES, STEVE”
“Language”
He stops jumping and looks at him. “You will get that girl. I promise” Bucky looks like he’s about to cry “oh my god, you’re all grown up”.
Steve lets out a slight laugh. It’s almost ridiculous how happy Bucky is that there’s a girl that he kinda likes. It reminds him of how they talked about their futures when they were little. They talked about carriers and family, and how they will be called uncle Steve and uncle Bucky by their best friends kids.
“Are you crying?” he asks, seeing Bucky wipe his eye.
“Pfff, no”.
Oh, he’s definitely crying.
“Calm down, Bucky. Just because I like her doesn’t mean that she likes me”.
“Yeah, because you’re just an Avenger, the symbol of America, a super soldier, owner of America’s ass-“
“Ok, I get it”. Steve isn’t dumb, he knows that people know him, that he’s quite famous; god he sounds like Tony. All this doesn’t make him the most liked person in the world, though, and not everyone fall for him. Not just because he has blond hair and some women like dark hair, or he is to old schooled and doesn’t know every new show on Netflix, or women are not into him because they hate male genitals and prefer women’s….parts. The shield only shows what he shows the world and not the people he cares about. He doesn’t show his emotional side with all his flaws.
“You like her, right” Bucky asks, knowing the answer.
“Yes, of course, but-“
“Then you will go to her and tell her that”. Bucky claps his hands. “You will tell her how much you like her. You will take her dancing and to the movies. Understand?”
“Yes, Sargent” Steve smiles.
“I know she’s the one. You will propose to her at sunset and give me some nephews and nieces”. Steve laughs at Bucky’s hyper fixation about his crush. Both of them are acting like two teenage girls.
“A uncle to Steve Jr’s and….uhm…what’s her name again”
“……”
“………..”
“……………”
“………you don’t know her name?”
“no, not really”. Well, that’s awkward.
“Oh my god, Steve”, Bucky is regretting his decision to help his friend “how about we start with you introducing yourself?”
“Bucky, please don’t do anything stupid”, Steve pleads. He doesn’t want Bucky to give him to much pressure. The thought of Bucky trapping them in a closet scares him, or him basically throwing him against her.
Bucky just looks at him confused. “You will do something stupid. I’m here to prevent that from happening”.
“Promise?”
“Promise” Bucky says showing Steve his hands “I swear on Sam’s life”.
Steve smile slowly falls and Bucky corrects himself “ok, I swear on uhm, your life”.
“I guess that’s ok”
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Since then Bucky’s been on the mission ‘get a sister-in-law’, with no luck though. He thought being a wingman would be easier, but it’s not. Definitely not. Or he has just a bad person that he needs to help.
So far Steve had like four times eye contact, spoke two sentences in two conversations. The one sentence only being two words.
The best try so far was when Steve was in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, when she came and asked him if he could move a bit so she can get to the fridge, and Steve said ‘yes’. He said something, made eye contact, didn’t walk away and didn’t stutter. He didn’t even sweat! Steve did this on his own without him and for that he needs an applause.
And the worst try was when he was ‘forced’ to train with her.
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“You can do this Steve”, Bucky whispers to Steve before giving him a pat on the shoulder and pushing him towards the mat.
Steve still hasn’t introduced himself yet, so Bucky thought it would be a good opportunity to see the skills of the new recruits and to train with them. Surprisingly, Steve is now sparring against his crush, the woman they still don’t know the name of.
Steve walks on the mat, giving a quick look over his shoulder to see Bucky giving him a thumbs up.
He takes a deep breath before saying, “Ok, come at me”.
To say he’s impressed is an understatement. He’s fascinated by her skills, by the way she moves with such grace. Instead of directly coming at him and trying to punch him, she moves around him. She does that the whole time, dodging every single move of him while he tries to land a hit on her, well, more like pinch her. He wouldn’t hurt her. Ever.
At some point Steve finally manages to get a hold of her, but she is quicker and kicks his one leg away and then uses his arms to lift her up and wrap her legs around his neck, bringing him down. Steve is now on the mat with her legs around his neck, her directly hovering over his face. Steve doesn’t know why, but he’s not complaining about this position.
He gets himself back together and uses his legs to his lower back of the mat and makes a roll, so now she’s on the mat, with him in between her legs.
Steve can be lucky that most of the recruits are already doing their own thing because this is not a professional normal work position. Sam, who just walked in, stopped next to Bucky when he sees the scene. He looks at Bucky and sees how he’s directly looking at where Steve’s face is.
“Stop doing your creepy eye thing”, Sam tells him, but Bucky simply ignores him. Sam is about to say something when he hears a loud slam, and sees her on top of Steve, straddling his hips “oh”.
This scene doesn’t last long though because Steve flips them around, now straddling her hips and pinning her arms above her head. She tries to move around under him, successfully. Her back towards and is about to use her knees to make him fall off. Steve thinks quicker though and flips them again. Her back against his chest and his back against the floor. He wraps his legs around each of her legs, making her unable to move them, while he wraps his arms around her neck, taking her in a headlock. She tries to wiggle away, but can’t.
She taps his arm, signaling him that he won. Steve lets her go, softly lifting her arm to help her up, and then getting up after her.
“Everything ok?” he asks, wanting to make sure that he didn’t hurt her in some kind. That would definitely make admitting his feelings harder.
“Yes”, she smiles at him, panting slightly, “thank you, Captain Rogers, for training with me”. The smile she gives him is a true, generous smile. Steve doesn’t see how Sam and Bucky are exchanging scared looks.
“Y-You don’t need to tank me”, Steve says. Now it’s the time to introduce himself; he can do it. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “And you can call me S-“
He gets pulled away by Bucky, forcefully getting pushed against his chest. Steve looks Bucky confused into his eyes as Bucky pulls him with him behind the corner, out of sight of her, with Sam walking next to them. All the way to behind the corner Bucky keeps Steve against him, while Sam blogs other from seeing Steve’s side.
“What are you doing? I was just about to introduce myself”
Sam looks at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, something else was also about to introduce himself” and points to Steve’s crotch.
Steve looks down and sees what Sam is talking about.
For the first time, the golden boy is having a boner. A huge one. The serum really did make everything bigger.
“Oh, no no no no” Steve goes.
“Hey, it’s ok” Bucky tries calming him down “it’s uhm normal”
“Yeah, you know how many boners I had in my life”, Sam continues.
“See, even Sam thinks so. Did you ever notice how often I had when we were out with some girls, or just when I was thinking about one”, Bucky continues, Sam nodding his head the whole time. Both giving Steve a smirk. “You have them everywhere. In the shower, during work, in bed, I even had them when we had a sleepover”.
“Oh my god” Steve hates talking about that. He doesn’t know what’s worst, talking about women things or about men and their boners. “I had it in front of her, in front of everyone” he cries out.
Sam pats his shoulder. “No one saw it”
“You did!”.
“Because we watched both of you”, Sam assures him. “The others did their own thing, and she looked in your eyes, man. Not what’s below Captain America’s waist”
“Maybe she felt it though”, Bucky says.
“Bucky!”
“Your not helping, man”, Sam shrugs and looks down “ok, maybe she did because you know, it’s not small”
“See, Wilson! You agree”
Steve had never been this embarrassed in his entire life. He covers his erection with his hands, but it only makes it more obvious. He’s trying to cover his boner while his two best friends are talking about his penis size and how often they get a boner. He wants to dig himself a grave.
“Guys!” Steve whisper screams, getting their attention back. “I need to get rid of it”.
“Of your giant boner?”
“Yeas, Sam. What else is there to get rid of?” Steve says. Bucky slaps Sam on the back of his head, with no context at all. “What was that for, Bucky?”
He shrugs “I know you would like to do that, but are too nice to actually do it”. Steve just wanted to have a nice day where he maybe finally managed to speak to the woman of his dreams, but no, everything had to go like shit. “What do I do?”.
Sam and Bucky look at each other before letting out an obvious loud breath of air. They turn to Steve. “Well, you could try to calm down” Sam says, and Bucky continues “or you could, you know, help yourself out”.
“No!” Steve doesn’t even want to imagine helping himself out. The simple thought disgusts him and he feels an incredible feeling of shame.
Steve shakes his head at them. “Tell me something, that helps uhm, the problem”.
“Remember when your mom caught us looking through her drawers and spanked you”.
“….”
“….”
“….”
“Are you getting harder?” Sam asks, looking at his now slightly bigger boner.
“N-no” Steve pushes with all might on his boner to get it down “s-say something else”. He begs his friends for help.
Bucky looks hopeless “I don’t know what to say to get her off of your mind”. Steve wants to say something when Sam holds up his hands.
“Hold up, her off of your mind” he says looking at Steve, “so it wasn’t just because you got a bit close to her”. The smirk on his face is huge, a teasing one.
Steve groans out of frustration and pain.
“You know, I could see you together”, Sam goes, giving him a thump up.
“I know, but he’s too afraid to ask her. He couldn’t even introduce himself”.
“You didn’t introduce yourself to y/n?”
Steve looks at him and repeats her name softly. Y/n. Your name sound like an angel, a page out of the Bible that you worship and say as a pray. He would do that. Say your name like it’s a holy prayer. He wants to say your name again again and again. Whispering your name in your ear as you slowly share a kiss.
“Shit” Bucky says. He thought that Steve’s boner couldn’t get any bigger, but he was wrong. So wrong. It’s now almost twice as big as before. “Sam, why did you say that?!”
“I didn’t know this was going to happen! I just said her name. I didn’t think he would get hard because of a name”.
“Well, he did!”
They hear people coming into the training room. A lot by the sound of their talking. At least fifteen entered the room. Now you add them three, plus y/n and plus the seven recruits that were already in here. That makes twenty-six people. Two, Sam and Bucky, already saw Steve’s boner.
“Guys!” Steve screams “what do I do?!”, hiding more in the corner.
“Obviously getting her out of your head doesn’t work”.
“How about you stay in front of me while I walk out”.
Both shake their head “they would see you though and stare at you. Also, there are too many. You wouldn’t make it out unnoticed”.
“What if I wait until they leave”.
“Steve, they will eventually walk to this corner when they get more weights, and then see you”
Steve looks hopeless. “Bring me some pants that- I don’t know, doesn’t show my you know”.
“Steve…nothing can hide that boner”, Sam says “there is only one option”.
“What?”
“you could…help yourself out, Steve”
“No”
“Steve, please”
“No”
“Pal, listen-“
“No, Bucky. I can’t do that. I can’t just touch my…member…and..bring myself pleasure”, Steve hates talking about it. “How am I even suppose to do it?!”
“You take your dick in your hand and hold it tight, then you start to move your hand up and down. Personally, I would advise you to do it fast but-“
“I meant where!” he covers his ears trying to forget what Bucky just said. Though he learned something new. “I can’t just do it here, it would..spill”
Sam looks around until he sees something that could help “take this to collect your sperms”. He shows Steve an empty probably by someone forgotten water bottle.
“But-“ Steve knows that this is the only way and that he should accept it, but he doesn’t want to “fine”.
“I wait around the corner so no one walks over here, while Bucky makes sure you don’t get a heart attack” Sam says, winking before walking around the corner. Bucky gives Steve a slight smile before turning around. He doesn’t need to see his best friend Masturbate.
Surprisingly, Steve isn’t that loud. Sam only heard him once or twice a bit louder. One time he was screaming Bucky’s name because he turned around for a second.
Sam walks over to them when Bucky gives him a thump up. Steve is sitting on the floor, panting heavenly. Next to him, a completely full to the top water bottle. Or more like cum bottle.
“Congratulations on your first orgasm, Steve”
They are on their way out now, happy that Steve doesn’t have a big gun in his pants anymore.
“Hey, Sam”
Fuck
“Hey, Y/n” Sam smiles, while Steve panics. He’s drenched in sweat and is holding a bottle of his own cum.
You smile at Bucky and Steve too. You look at Steve and see how he looks like he’s in pain and completely drenched. “Are you ok, Captain Rogers?”.
Bucky and Sam quickly cover him up. “Oh yeah, he’s fine, he just-“
“Is hungry!”
“Uhm yeah and you know how you can get sick when you didn’t eat”
“Yeah ya get really sick”
You stare at them for a second, trying to process what they said. “Oh, maybe you should drink your shake then, Captain Rogers”, and point to his ‘shake’, and give him a smile.
“I-“
Bucky stops Steve. “Yeah no, he will just get something from the kitchen, you know?”.
“Bucky’s right, uhm I don’t think that would be such a smart idea to drink the shake. Hah ha” Steve says awkwardly.
Your smile falls. “Oh, yeah sure. I just thought that would help. We don’t want you passing out”.
Was his answer mean, is what Steve thinks. He doesn’t want you to think he just didn’t drink the ‘shake’ because you said that. Steves heart pains as he sees your reaction; you looked so sad. It obviously isn’t that big of a deal. Surely you forget about it later, but what if you don’t? You don’t forget that he didn’t want to drink the ‘shake’. What if you think you’re dumb for asking that? He thinks for a second, a long second, a second that will change everything.
“You’re right”, and opens the cap.
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theemporium · 1 year
Note
okaaaaaaaaaaay i just the new dialogue prompts so prompt no. 1 with sirius but please feed us with a lovesick fool!sirius <33333
1.”Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”
.
Sirius Black loved to do anything that would piss his mother off and take her a step closer to an early grave. 
Whether it was proudly sitting amongst those who weren’t purebloods or part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or wearing his house colours with pride despite the stain it left on the Black name. Whether it was embracing muggle culture, or picking on every little fight he could when he stayed under her roof. 
Sirius liked to push her buttons. He liked to poke the bear and he liked watching that vein on her forehead look as though it was seconds away from exploding. In fact, it had been another one of her fancy dinners that he attended on a whim in hopes to find a way to piss her off. 
What Sirius hadn’t been expecting was to meet you. And what he certainly wasn’t expecting was to fall head over heels for the girl his mother would ship him off with before he could even blink. 
He had tried to fight his feelings for as long as he could. He reminded himself that you were probably a pureblood elitist like the others in that room, that you were a Slytherin and you probably turned your nose down at people who he considered his closest friends. 
But then he started noticing you around Hogwarts and quickly realised that wasn’t the case. And it became a quick—and borderline pathetic game—for Sirius to find any excuse to be near you, to be on your radar.
He made jokes whenever he knew you were in the room and eagerly sought out your reaction to see if you laughed. He would make funny comments in classes you shared together to see if you’d lift your head from your textbook to notice him. He would throw peas at you during dinner to see if you would turn around to find him in the chaos of the Great Hall. 
His most recent attempt wasn’t even meant to be anything grand. Just a simple question he made up so he would have an excuse to walk over to you during potions and talk to you. 
But then Snape had made a point of kicking his bookbag in Sirius’ path and the wizard didn’t have enough time to catch the movement before he was stumbling forward, crashing down on a table full of potion bottles that smashed around him.
“Holy shit, are you okay?”
Sirius blinked, the blaring lights above slowly being covered by your face as you stared down at him with a concerned expression, eyes glancing over him to make sure there were no physical injuries. 
There was a slightly bitter, citrus-like taste on his lips that he didn’t have a chance to question before he was blurting out the first thought that came to his head when he saw your face in his line of vision. 
“You are really pretty!”
You paused, glancing down at the boy with a slightly surprised expression. “What?”
“Like, genuinely one of the fittest witches I have ever seen in my life,” he kept going, unable to stop himself. “Maybe even the fittest.”
“Thank you?” you said, a little unsure by the bold statement. 
“I think you might actually be the girl of my dreams but you make me nervous to talk to you and I have never had that with a girl before,” he told you, his eyes widening a little at just how easily that confession slipped from his lips. 
Sirius quickly scrambled to sit up, not caring about his soaked uniform or the mess around him as he glanced down at the bottles smashed on the floor. His eyes landed on a certain label and he tried not to let out a string of curse words.
Of course out of all the potions he could have possibly accidentally consumed, it had to be a truth potion.
“You feeling okay there, Black?” you asked cautiously.
“I like the way you say my name!” Sirius blurted out before slapping a hand over his mouth. “I—uh, pretend I didn’t say…anything that I just said in the last few minutes.”
However, to his surprise, you smiled and let out a small laugh. “Anything else you like?”
“You!” Sirius said confidently, though his face and ears burned as red as his house tie. “I…fuck. Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what? You’re pretty and smart and you make my heart feel funny.”
“I make your heart feel funny,” you repeated, sounding amused by his confession.
“Yeah, like a good funny,” Sirius continued even if his hands were clenched into fists at his side, nails digging into his sweaty palms. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”
You raised your brows. “Yeah?”
Sirius contemplated if a sinkhole swallowing him up would be too far-fetched to occur right now. “Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t need a potion to tell you I wanna kiss you too, Black.”
His eyes widened. “You do?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think,” you told him with a grin. “But it’s cute.” 
Sirius grinned back at you. “So, if I asked you out on a date, you’d say yes?”
“Ask me, Black, and then you’ll see.”
.
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urfavlarry · 18 days
Note
HEYY, AIDEN x READER AT THE RINK ANON HERE!! LOVED THE WAY U WROTE THE ONESHOT!
i was waiting for your requests to open up again :D (im obsessed with aiden so bear w/ me, i'll be requesting ALOT abt him) wanted to ask if u could write a oneshot about tyler,aiden x f!reader as a love triangle! something along the lines of; how the atmosphere is around the group when those two keep on pissing each other off. Aiden being aiden and just pulling on tylers strings even though reader hasn't chosen which one she likes most!
(if its okay w u, every time i request something i'll just put 🤍Anon!)
Tyler & Aiden x fem!reader
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🎸🥀 ɞ˚‧。⋆
The more confident one here would probably be Aiden
Like ofc Tyler isn’t insecure or anything but he definitely isn’t that confident when flirting with you
Aiden would get more touchy and pushy (well if that’s even possible)
Tyler would be more calm around you and would be very overprotective over you and would protect you, just like his sister with his life
The two would bicker so much more
You turn the corner, there’s a fighting Aiden and Tyler there
Aiden would be more smug then angry when arguing with Tyler
On the other hand.. Tyler would get pissed
We all know he gets pissed easily but they wouldn’t full on fist fight probably to not raise suspicion within the others in the group
When you are alone with Tyler he would probably be more ‘flirty’
He would have his hand on your waist or hug you
You wouldn’t think anything of it because you think he’s just being friendly (reader is kinda oblivious like always, typical Y/N)
When you three would be near each other the atmosphere would be so fucking tense
Ashlyn fight her inner demons to not say “get a room the sexual tension radiating off of you is making me sick”
Some would question the weird atmosphere but the two would deny anything and everything
After a while they would probably make you choose or one of them would just make a move
If you had a crush on Aiden:
Tyler would be crushed
He would cry probably but not a full on breakdown
He would get pissy towards you and Aiden (more to Aiden)
Deep down he would still like you but after some time he moves on
Things would definitely be awkward for a while tho
On the other hand Aiden would be the happiest man alive
He would rub it in but he wouldn’t go THAT far to the point he would make Tyler feel bad
Probably just sticking his tongue out when you’re not looking or when he kisses you he would do that thing where you have your eyes closed while he is eyeing Tyler
Aiden would yap your ear off and tell you what has been going on between him and Tyler
You would just laugh it off, feeling a bit bad for Tyler but you’re happy you got together with your crush :3
If you had a crush on Tyler:
Oh he would act like he doesn’t care but deep down he wants to rub it in so bad but doesn’t want to be immature
Would probably just smirk at Aiden when you’re not looking
Aiden would still be his cheerful self but he would be crushed as well
Poor boy probably cried the whole night
Ben would glare a bit at you two like how dare you make his cousin cry
But after a while he forgets about it and moves on, going back to his usual very happy self who yaps everyones ears off
Tyler would definitely not tell you what has been happening
Like girl nuh uh that shit seems too embarrassing to be talked about anywhere near you
Would never admit he was jealous, like never
But you can tell because he looks like an angry puppy :D
After a while the atmosphere in the group would go back to normal, just some romance popping in lmao
If you don’t like them back:
the awkwardness in the group would fr go 📈
probably would plan to fight the person you like
after some time they would ofc get over it but this would take then so much longer to get over
everyone in the group is like “wtf is going on”
if you start dating that person and stat to drift away from the group they would be really sad tho
if the guy mistreats you then they will beat him up they wouldn’t even care of they get in trouble
overall your interactions would be brief and awkward
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Text
BG3 Companion Sexuality Headcanons
Astarion: Pansexual. Has a slight preference for men. Has a complicated relationship with feelings of attraction and connection, so doesn't usually like thinking about his own sexual identity. Thinks Wyll is the hottest other party member.
Lae'zel: Pansexual, kind of. Doesn't really relate to sex and gender in the same way as the Faerunian companions. Githyanki socially de-emphasize romance, and all sex is generally for pleasure since Vlaakith decides who bears eggs. Lae'zel is alloromantic, but romance isn't generally at the front of her mind in a relationship. Neither is gender; ultimately Lae'zel is attracted to conviction and fighting prowess, moreso even than anything physical.
Shadowheart: Bisexual. Very slight preference for men. (EDIT: I've rotated this in my mind after people pointed it out and I think actually Shadowheart has a slight preference for women.) Remained closeted into adulthood, not because the other Sharrans would discriminate against her (they generally don't care about sexuality) but because she wanted to impress everyone with how well she could keep the secret. Also, excessively kinky.
Gale: Bisexual. Has more experience with women than with men, but that has more to do with circumstances than preference. Though physical appearance isn't not a factor, he would probably describe himself as a sapiosexual; he's attracted to knowledge, intellectual curiosity, and strong opinions. Had crushes on several teachers in wizard school.
Wyll: Bisexual. Realized he wasn't just attracted to women at a young age, and his father was very supportive. No preference between genders, but one of his favorite things to do is court gentlemen exactly the same way he courts ladies; he likes being the devoted chivalric prince to men since he knows it's less common for them to be flattered and told they're beautiful.
Karlach: Pansexual. Years of being unable to make genuine connections with anyone have made her horny for affection, kindness, and commitment. Maybe had some gender preference before going to Hell, but her time there has given her lots of time to consider basically any options. Has at least a slight crush on basically every other party member.
Halsin: Pansexual. No gender preference. Halsin has had centuries to explore his sexuality, and his robust understanding of nature gives him a non-binary perspective on gender and sex. Nothing is a casual fling for this dude, though -- if you show the slightest bit of interest in him he will dedicate his whole heart to you. And also anyone else who shows interest in him at the same time.
Minthara: I didn't actually have Minthara in my party, but from what I've seen she seems like a pretty traditional drow, and when I think of drow and sexuality I sort of imagine a reverse of ancient Greek customs; bisexuality is the norm, men are prized for their beauty and for marriagibility, but it's expected that women will also have flings with other women, and those relationships are often considered more meaningful. I imagine Minthara follows those lines, being bisexual and assuming she may one day marry a beautiful man but being more inclined to meaningful, affectionate relationships with women, due to her own prejudices moreso than preference between genders.
Jaheira: Thought she was straight for the first century of her life, but has more recently opened up to other possibilities. Isn't particularly interested in marriage or a deep interpersonal romance at this point in her life, but she has entered a state of questioning her sexuality -- she's just not super interested in experimenting with actual relationships. She's got more important stuff to do. Did have a fling with Ninefingers that neither of them tell anyone about.
Minsc: Doesn't like labels. Minsc isn't interested in finding a partner, doesn't really care about sex, and is enthusiastic about romance mainly when other people do it. He hasn't given a lot of thought to where he might fall on any sexual/romantic spectrum, but he definitely sees beauty in all of his friends. He will give you the most heartfelt and often embarassing compliments on your personality, style, and appearance. Does that mean he's attracted to you? Maybe, maybe not, but there's definitely something queerplatonic going on.
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kichikichiko · 1 month
Note
Hello! I hope you're having a good time,I would like to request Kazuha and scaramouche with a gender neutral reader Who almost died protecting them?
If you don't feel comfortable doing this, don't do it. Thank you so much!
Don't you dare leave me!
HELLO HI EVERYONE! HAPPY (BELATED) NEW YEARS! 😻😻😻🌟🌟🌟
I've had this request in my ask box for MONTHS and Ive planned to write it when I got it but ykkkk life happens.
Ty Anon for sending this in and sorry it took me this long to write your request 💔
Synopsis: How your partner would react to when you risk your life to save them.
Pairing: Kazuha x Gn! Reader and Scara x Gn! Reader
Cw: Semi proof-read, Fluff, headcanon, slight blood mention, cursing for Scara, Established relationship (Kazuha), kiss at the end (Scara)
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KAEDEHARA KAZUHA ¤ Scarlet leaves pursue wild waves
It was around the time the Raiden Shogun declared the vision hunting decree, and right after Kazuha's dear friend Tomo passed trying to withsand the musou no hitotachi.
You were away for training with your teacher. And as you walked home you heard of the commotion on the streets
"That guy died from the Shogun's strike" "what was he thinking?! He is obviously no match for the Shogun"
Hearing all of the whispers made you a little worried. And something told you that it was terrible news. What if that was someone you knew personally?
Assuring yourself that it's probably just some stupid samurai off the streets is what you did. Trying to block out all the whisperd and worries of the city folk.
Until you heard his name from a group of people talking about what just happened. "...Kaedehara...."
Your boyfriend who you haven't seen since this morning. You stopped on your tracks and turned around hoping you heard that wrong.
"What did you say?"
"Pardon?" The person asked.
"The name." You repeated "the name you mentioned before, what was it again?"
"Kaedehara. Kaedehara Kazuha?" The person said confused by your expression growing more and more distraught by the second
"What happened to him? Did he..." you couldnt even get yourself to finish that sentence. You didnt want to believe that HE was the one who challenged the Raiden Shogun
"No dont worry (miss/sir) it's not him who died. Its another guy, but Kaedehara was seen on the scene taking the dead vision and running off. From what I've heard he's running away right now"
Without wasting another second you booked it to the nearest port. You had no idea if he was going to be there as he escaped but it's worth the shot anyways.
Panting and gasping through the bamboo forest while thinking about the fate of your boyfriend isn't the best combination.
"What if he got caught?" "What if he already left?" "What if that stranger was mistaken?" The what if questions were not helping you at all.
So all you did was to hope. Hope that he is still alive, hope that he is still in Inazuma
Your legs were killing you and your lungs feel like they're about to explode if you don't stop running. But you can't
You need to see Kazuha.
As if the Archon's heard your prayers, all of a sudden you hear a guard shouting in a distance "Kaedehara Kazuha you're under arrest under the vision hunting decree!"
"It's him! He's still here!" Relieved he hasn't made it out of Inazuma yet, you started running even faster to the scene.
When you got there you saw Kazuha fighting a bunch of the Shogun's guards left and right. "Kazuha!" You shouted out in relief, as you drew out your katana (sword) and began helping him fight.
You bear no vision, but the adrenaline was pumping into your veins you didnt give a second thought and dove into the fight.
"(Name)??" Kazuha turned around to look at you for a split second. Honestly if it werent for the current condition youre both in, he'd hug you real tight
"How did you find me?" He asked before turning his head around and defend himself from the guards.
"I heard from the city folks hat you ran away after a man died from the musou no hitotachi" you responded, blocking a strike from another guard.
He made a mental note to explain to you the story after the fight is over.
Speaking of which, the fight lasted for quite sometime until all of the shogun's minions were down.
You turned around and hugged Kazuha, throwing your weapon onto the ground.
"I'm so glad youre safe Kaz" you burried your bead into his shoulder, still panting from all that fighting, adrenaline and running.
Kazuha was panting as well, hugging you tighter like never before and kissed your forehead softly "Me too (name), I'm so sorry I didn't come to you sooner and told you anything. Everything happened so fast, I had to leave before I got caught."
You pulled away from the hug and smiled at him softly, your breathing becoming more stable after a while "That's alright, I found you just in time-"
Something was moving behind Kazuha and you couldn't make it what it was until you could.
It was the Shogun's guard again, with a bow and arrow... aimed at Kazuha's back. Your heart dropped
before the guard should release the arrow you pushed Kazuha away and took the hit.
The arrow ended up piercing your shoulder which earned a shout from you. It hurted like hell and blood started flowing out of your shoulder by the minute.
At first you felt dizzy from the blood loss and then everything went dark. You were going in and out, Before you blacked out completely, the first time you saw Kazuha charging up to the guard and fought him. The next time you saw him picking you up bridal style
And the last thing you heard was " (name) Don't you dare leave me!"
The first thing you saw when you woke up was a wooden ceiling above you. "Where am I?" You sat up and hissed from the pain on your shoulder. You took a look at thr soirce of the pain and to your surprise, the wounded area had been wrapped with a compression bandage.
Looking around at the area you realised you ended up on a ship. But how?
Before you could ask more questions, the door in front of you opened, and standing there was Kazuha. The man saw that you were awake and sped walk towards you.
"You're awake! Thank goodness. Don't worry everythings alright. We're on a ship of a pirate captain from Liyue and she got her crew to help stop the bleeding on your shoulder."
Ah, he basically just answered the questions that were popping up in your head. "Looks like we'll have to thank this pirate captain for her hospitality"
You looked at the current condition of your lover. His shoulders were tense and his lips forced into a small smile.
You could tell it was so that you wouldn't be alarmed. And you could tell he was still shaken up by the stunt you pulled earlier.
"I'm sorry my love, for scaring you like that." Placing your hand on his shoulder, then slowly making your way up to his cheek. "I'm safe, youre safe. That's all that matters."
You could see his eyes softening and his shoulders becoming less tense
"Youre right... youre right. You just got me worried back there. I was afraid I might lose you too." He whispered softly, cupping his hand over your hand.
Subconciously he gripped your hand hard enough to make you notice but not hard enough to hurt you.
He didn't have to elaborate any further for you to realise that his dear friend was the one who died.
"I won't leave you here alone dear. That's a promise." pulling him into a hug, which he reciprocated quickly
"What now?" Is a question you both will figure out later.
Right now, the only thing that matters is the two of you.
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SCARAMOUCHE/ KUNIKUZUSHI ¤ The Balladeer
Being the Balladeer's assistant was no easy job
Literally.
Having to deal with his yelling, degration, mocks, (tantrums) and bad temper required patience. Lots of it
But no matter how many times he left you out in the snow to freeze, or mocked you in front of everyone, you stayed by him. Honestly no one understood how and why (and neither did Scara but he would never question it)
Partially because the pay is good (the harbingers decided to pay you extra because youre dealing with Scaramouche), partially because you don't get treated as half as bad as his subordinates and because sometimes he isn't so bad in general.
What I mean by "not so bad" is that sometimes, barely, but once in a blue moon. He shows that he cares and appreciates your help and loyalty.
When he was sent out on a mission to Inazuma, you couldn't come to help him due to unfortunate circumstances. He was pissed to say the least
surprisingly not at you but at the higher ups for not allowing you, his assistant to come
he brought you a souvenier from Inazuma. Nothing much and nothing grand, but it is something from your boss so you treasure it.
Another time you got sick with the flu, at first he was pissed (when is he not 💀🖕) but then at night, he came over to give you some soup
By the Balladeer's words it is to "Make you get better soon so you can work again. I can't manage all this shit by myself"
Which you translated it to "I miss your company and I need your help with my tasks"
Either way you appreciated his kindness.
Scaramouche and you were sent out on a mission together to the chasm. Usually they wouldn't send the harbingers down there, but an important relic from an unknown lost civilization was found, and the fatui wants to study it.
As the 2 of you were down there, all you (other than trying to find the relic) did was listen to his occasional rants and curses to the other harbingers for sending him on this mission.
"Annoyed as always" you rolled your eyes.
When the relic was found and secured safely, the two of you nodded at each other as a sign that you both should head out as soon as possible
Luckily Scaramouche and you didn't run into any enemies which was....
"Strange" you mumbled to yourself, brows furrowed and eyeing the caves
"What is?" taking a glance behind to look at you as he was right in front of you
"It's just that we haven't bumped into any monsters or enemies during our time here." You started
"There's always enemies down here at the chasm"
Scaramouche shrugged at you "Maybe theyre taking a nice long nap, or maybe they know their place and not to mess with us." He was half sarcastic and half serious. Either way, he wasn't bothered by this at all
You nodded at him. Not necessarily because you agree with him
But mainly because you're quite unsettled about the whole situation to the point where you'd just hope he was right
Something must be wrong with the universe because not long after, a mob of hillichurls showed up
Scaramouche groaned, getting ready to fight "Great you jinxed it."
They were just a bunch of hillichurls so it really didn't take long for Scara to handle it while you guard the relic
"Let's just get out of here before I have to deal with those i-" before your boss could finish his sentence an abyss herald showed up
When it showed up, you drew out your weapon getting ready to fight. He was no easy foe and even if you knew Scara could handle it...
Something was telling you thing's were about to go south.
You and him started fighting the Abyss enemy
Scara with his electro powers and you with your (vision of choice)
"Hey (name) fuck off I can handle this myself you know?!" He shouted at you
"No you can't Scaramouche!" You retaliated, not listening to another word he says because you were getting more and more pissed by his antics "Just shut up and let me help!"
With the way you disobeyed his orders AND talk back at him got him taken aback and angry at you
"Why this little bitch!" He wanted to say
Scara just gave the abyss herald an opening to launch an attack at him
"Scara watch out!" Luckily you saw right on time and threw yourself in front of Scara to protect him
The attack was so bad you started coughing out blood from the impact. Everything started to become blurry and you lost your balance and strength, dropping your weapon in the process
Before you blacked out you heard Scara scream out something you couldn't quite make out and then... total darkness.
"Don't you dare leave me here!" Echoed in your mind before you awoke in a bed in a strange place. This wasn't Snezhnaya and you know it.
"Where am I? And who said that sentence when I was asleep?" You asked yourself, slowly sitting up from the bed with a groan.
The door on your right opened and in came your boss
"Scara..!" You managed to say. Your voice came out soft and sort of like a wheeze. The impact of the attack seemed to affect your ability to talk as well
"Shh. Don't talk. The doctor said your vocal cord needs rest." Making his way to your bed, and sat by the edge
You closed your mouth but it was clear you had many questions. Scara frowed a little but started answering the questions he knows you'll anyways
"We're still in Liyue. I managed to carry you out of the chasm and the relic I handed off to some fatui members I saw on the way to the doctor.... and you've been out for 3 days now. I was..." he paused and looked away
"Starting to get worried." You didn't have to see his face to know that his expression softened.
Now it all makes sense, you now know what Scara said before you blacked out.
"Don't you dare leave me here!" It was also the sentence that echoed in your mind while you were asleep.
You knew long ago that the all so scary Balladeer had developed feelings for you. It was the little things he did for you that made you question but today, this whole incident made it clear to you that the 6th Fatui Harbinger harbours feelings for his assistant.
You did as well of course. Even though he was a pain in the ass sometimes, it feels as if no one understand you more than he does, and likewise.
Scooting closer to the harbinger, you brought your hand up to his cheek and made him face you.
He saw your expression and even though you said nothing, he knew what you meant. "I'm not leaving you here."
You both slowly moved closer and kissed each other, removing all the tension in the balladeers shoulder.
──────•❥❥❥•──────
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second, never first
part eleven | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten |
PLEASE READ WARNINGS
chris x fem!reader
summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.
warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues, mention of domestic violence (NOT BETWEEN THE MAIN COUPLE), BOYS (no smut… for now lol)
word count - 2k+
a/n: this part of the story contains a scene involving domestic violence so please dont read if that is a topic that triggers you! also this part is taking place 2 weeks since the last. also i made it a little lengthy for you all <333
NOT PROOFREAD
-
i was fast asleep when i heard a crash from downstairs over the show i have playing to fall asleep. instantly getting up i slipped on a robe and slowly walked to my steps.
growing up in the house hold i did meant i had to be in constant fight or flight. i stood at the top of my steps with my phone in hand. looking down at it, the time reading 12:34.
“you need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, i am threatening you and your daughter. ever try to leave me and i will have both pf your heads.” i heard my dad yell from downstairs, my mom sobbing. common occurrence from my house hold.
“mom” i say my voice cracking up as i walk down stairs. “y/n go the fuck upstairs now.” my dad screams standing over my mom as shes sitting on the floor with both hands on her cheek as if she was just punched and her throat red. i knew my parents argued all the time but i never saw them get violent.
“i will do it.” holding my phone up i type in 911.
“sweetie you know i would never be violent, your mom just needs to be talked to like a baby since she has double left brain cells.” he switches up his tone.
“now i wont repeat myself, go to your fucking room.” he growls.
tears pool in to my eyes as i turn around.
my vision gets clouded with tears as i make my way to my room. immediately breaking down once i get to my room. feeling scared in your own house is one thing but feeling unsafe is another. i cant trust either of my parents to keep me safe anymore.
turn on my phone i call the one person who i can trust with my life, chris.
ring ri-
“hey kid whats up.” he answers. i dont say anything as i am hyperventilating, crying and shakily breathing trying to calm myself down. “y/n?” i hear him say, “chris” is all i can reply and i am sobbing on the other line of the phone. “where are you?” chris asks in a concerned tone, “i- im home.”.
“whats wrong why are you calling?” he questions. “i cant- i cant be here.”.
“im on my way kid, give me a second here ok?”
“mhm” i reply.
he hangs up and i slowly take deep breaths. im not one to cry often but after school the other day ive been crying for 2 weeks straight it feels like. i dont know if chris would mind but i start frantically packing a bag with clothes and things i need for tomorrow morning. i cant be here in this house with them.
i knew in the back of my mind i shouldn’t leave my mom alone but i just couldn’t bear to hear any more crashes or slams now that i know things have gotten physical.
i sit on the floor in front of my door still sobbing as i just started and me and chris’ texts waiting for-
wednesday 12:57am
chris: here
waiting for that.
i open my window not caring to be quiet as i slip through it. sliding it shut and carefully climbing down the stairs of the treehouse my father built for me when i was a baby. probably the only thing ill ever be grateful for from him.
i wipe my eye and nose trying to compose myself while walking up to chris’ truck. opening the back door first and throwing my bag in to the back seat and then making my way to the passenger side. climbing up to the seat and buckling myself in. a few tears still streaming from my face.
“y/n what happened.” chris asks in a quiet tone. the question making everything flood back in to my head and i breakdown again. i bring my hands up to my face and cry into my hands. “it cant be that bad kid whats wrong.” he says with concern. “its worse.” i reply. “can we p- please go to your house. i- i cant be hear any longer.” i ask through choked sobs. “of course.” he puts the truck in drive.
the drive is quiet, the sound of my crying and heavy breathing being the only sound coming through the vehicle.
we get to his house and he immediately gets out and goes to grab my bag from the bag and then opening my door. i sniffle and smile at him thankfully.
once i enter his house its fully of joy. warm lighting and happiness filling the walls. i stand in the door way shivering as im in a big shirt and sleep shorts with sneakers on in the middle of winter. chris comes in after me with my bag over his shoulder and closing the door behind him and locking it. “cold?” he smiles and i nod rubbing my arms.
i look around his house for a minute, “cmon” he nods towards the stairs and we start walking up them to his room. we get to his room door. he walks over to his bed turning on the white led strip lights he has and walks back to the door. “hey go sit down kid ill be right back.” i nod in response and walk over to his bed. “hey y/n is gonna sleep here tonight.” i hear chris say, his voice is muffled slightly and i hear matt and nick ask “why?”.
“i dont know she just called me crying and she wont speak, i think something happened at her house.” he replies and walks back in.
going to his closet he grabs a hoodie and tosses it to me, “thank you.” i sniffle and smile putting the hoodie on immediately feeling warmer. he walks over to his bed crounching down in front of me.
“talk to me kid, what happened?” he asks softly, “was it your parents?” he adds. i close my eyes as streams of tears flow from them. my not answering was an answer for chris. he bows his head down shaking it and letting out a breath. “how bad was it?” he looks up at me.
“bad enough for my mom to be crying on the floor with a bloody nose and a bruised neck.” i reply and wipe nose. chris’ face fills with concern as i cry into my hands.
he takes my hands and removes them from my face starring at me with my runny nose and red eyes. i move to stand up and he does the same, “chris im sorry i shouldnt even be telling you th-“ i am paused with his arms coming around my head in to a hug. i melt into his touch burying my face into his chest and hooking my arms under his. i hold on to him for dear life and sob.
“im sorry.” i keep repeating as he hugs me. “stop it. none of what happened is your fault ok? your dad is a piece of shit stop apologizing.” he comforts as he gently rubs my back. the world goes quiet as i hold on to him, everything seemed to do that when i was with chris. i pull away still holding on to his arm “chris you have no idea how grateful i am for you.” i smile fiddling with his fingers. he smiles and kisses me, “shit sorry. bad timing, im awful.” he blurts as he immediately pulls away putting his hand up to his forehead. i wipe my nose again, “its ok. never apologize for that.”
our friendship as of now felt different. we are best friends that are fake dating but occasionally kiss when no ones around. i want to ask him what this means but im afraid it will ruin what we have. so i stay quiet as he leans into me again. i go on my tip toes and grab either side of his face into a long sweet kiss. pulling apart we both sit down on his bed and get under the sheets inches apart.
both of us laying face up but chris is on his phone.
thinking about my night i wonder what i would do without chris. having him as my best friend was the biggest blessing i could have asked for. even though i was enduring the roughest two weeks of my life chris always managed to to make my rocky world a still calm path.
as i think about him i instinctually move closer to him wrapping both of my arms around him. “whats this for?” he asks looking down and me and raising him arm for me to come in, as i can hear him smiling in his voice.
“i just am in l-, i just love you so much you are the only thing that helps me constantly.” i correct myself. he chuckles and shuts his phone off grabbing his tv remote. turning on a show on a low volume and shutting off his leds.
with his free hand he slips it under his hoodie thats on me and lightly starts scratching my back. i hum at the feeling closing my eyes. “that feel good?” he says in a quiet voice. “mhm” reply lightly nodding my head thats buried in his shoulder now. the low hum of of the show playing, my comfortable position cuddling with chris, plus my exhaustion and his hand scratching me made my tired eyes even more intense.
i fall asleep happier than i was an hour ago and its all thanks to chris.
chris pov
the feeling of her breathing against my side is more calming than anything i could describe. her fragile body is fast asleep on me with her leg over mine and her arms around my neck as i continue to lightly draw shapes on her back.
i cant believe what she endured tonight let alone it being a normal occurrence for her parents to argue. she told me about them fighting before and she always said it got intense but i have never seen her this emotional. i feel happy knowing that she can trust me in such a vulnerable state.
she hums in her sleep nuzzing her head impossibly closer to me and i just admire her as she does so. i just wish our current situation could be more than it is but bringing that up would change everything and commitment to another person is like holding a new born. you have someones full trust and life in your hands never knowing if their going to fall out.
ill take what i can get as we are closer than we have ever been tonight. watching her sleep is the most beautiful thing ive ever come across.
her dark hair lays out on her back as i can smell her vanilla scented shampoo that she told me was way to expensive for what she would normally pay. my hoodie that fit her in the most adorable oversized way. her sleep shorts that are peeking out from the covers that slightly show her skin. and her cold finger tips against my neck, the feeling of them almost lulling me to sleep.
i continue to scratch her back even though she is already asleep and kiss the top of her head which i wouldn’t have the courage to do if she was awake.
“im so in love with you kid, i just have fear of making that real. it would ruin everything. i just wish you were awake for me to tell you, but it would be selfish to take you as mine you have so much love to give.” i mumble whispered against her head just seconds before i fell asleep
-
thanks for reading xx
taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn
a/n: pls send thoughts in the comments. also i know this is a heavy topic to cover so my dms are open if anyone needs to talk. love you all🩷🩷
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sourpatchys · 6 months
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My personal Headcannons for Daryl Dixon that I will defend with my life
Just a warning! there is some nsfw❤️‍🔥 content in this list (not a ton)
This is a list full of random Headcannons I have, some are xreader related, some are just fun little things I’d like to believe because they’re fun
He l o v e s head scratches and chin scratches, just like a dog, his mom used to do it to him as a kid, it’s just really comforting to him
He is 100% dyslexic, he’s super insecure about it, which is why he leaves reading and writing up to anyone else who’s willing to do it.
This dude is secretly a math wiz. It came super easy to him, but he does tend to keep it on the down low because it was never something he was allowed to be proud of as a child, and it’s not really a needed skill anymore
I personally do not believe Daryl did anything hard while running around with Merle, Shrooms and weed were his limit 99.99% of the time, unless he felt pressured, but even then it would take a lot of convincing
He’s very self conscious about how thick his accent can get, he grew up in a much more rural area than the rest of Rick and Co. (apart from Maggie of course) and he feels out of place with his speech patterns at times.
Daryl was definitely a highschool drop out, assuming his birthday is January 6th, he left as soon as he was old enough to do it without a parent’s consent (18)
I just know this man never got his license. Can you imagine him paying his way through classes and taking a drivers test? I can’t. He probably just got a state ID for booze and just drove around illegally (if he got an ID at all, I’m sure he knew quite a few places that didn’t card)
He runs hot, the cold is a lot easier for him to handle than the heat, which is why he tended to wear sleeveless shirts or half sleeves
He has never had a “crush” in his life. He’s thought people were hot before, of course he has, but romance was never really on his mind
He’s not a total virgin, but he’s not exactly skilled either. His body count is probably 3, and I guarantee you he was not sober before, during, or after.
He’s a thigh and breast man. Hands down.
I know deep in my soul that this man enjoys some face sitting.
He’s not an overly sexual guy, if you were asexual he’d be okay with never doing anything, so long as you were happy
If you’re nonbinary, he was definitely mean to you at the start, with the way he was raised it simply didn’t make any since to him, BUT once you get closer and he starts to trust you, he might (he will) start asking some questions to understand you better
He isn’t a pet name kinda guy. He’s completely on board with calling you sunshine or princess, but anything past that just isn’t for him, and he really isn’t a fan of you giving him one either, unless it’s just a joking matter like how Carol calls him “pookie” from time to time
He’s a morning person and he hates it. He always wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, and every time he wishes he hadn’t.
He is definitely an insomniac, likely derived from having night terrors as a kid
He’s definitely self conscious about his scars, but not enough to cause issues if anyone happened to see them, he isn’t ashamed of them, but he doesn’t want to explain where their from, and he genuinely hasn’t thought of a good enough lie to tell instead.
When rick saw them for the first time Daryl had him fully convinced he was in a fight with a bear for about a week (rick never asked for the real reason)
He has a heavy sweet tooth, and likes to keep hard candy with him at all times (if possible) and he has never, and will never, pass up chocolate in any form.
He genuinely has chicken scratch for handwriting, he does not plan on ever attempting to make it easier to read, he enjoys the struggle people face when he’s put in a position where he has to write anything down. (Plus it helps conceal his errors if they do figure it out)
He does genuinely want kids in his life. Even if they can’t be his biologically. Being “uncle Daryl” is the best feeling he’s ever experienced, and he really wants to experience that with you if you’d allow it/want it (he would never pressure you to have kids)
Headaches and migraines plague his existence and they always have
He had super long hair as a kid and one of his punishments was his dad shaving it all off, which is why he kept it short until after the outbreak.
He would let you paint his toenails, or match his middle finger with whatever polish you decided to wear
This dude HATES clowns. Seeing a walker in a clown get up would absolutely kill him on the inside
You got sick? Don’t worry about it, he will absolutely attempt to make you soup from scratch using bone marrow and whatever else he can find
Fishing is not his thing. He knows how to, but he much prefers just catching them by hand or with a spear.
The closer you two get, the more likely he is to try and convince you that Bigfoot is real
Daryl is a secret star wars fan
He does NOT like country music, Led Zeppelin, Rob zombie, Ozzy osbourne and Lamb of god are much more his thing
He wasn’t a technology kind of guy, so if you tried to explain any aspect of social media to him he’d be completely lost (he didn’t even have a cellphone)
He has a super dry sense of humor
If he had to choose between starving to death or eating plain Cheerios, he would choose death.
One of the reasons he isn’t big on showering is because he doesn’t have a strong immune system from his childhood neglect, and he doesn’t want to shock his body and get sick
He also just hates the way soap feels on his skin. It’s way too sticky
During sex, he’s not strictly dominant or submissive, he’s ready to adapt to whatever you want, even if that means being strictly vanilla
He’s afraid of Santa Clause
And the Easter bunny
He’s willing to try anything once, even if he doesn’t think he’ll like it
He knows a lot of information on plants and herbs, so depending on your mood, he’ll try to find a flower to brighten your day with a little scribbled note explaining its meaning (because you can actually read his atrocious writing)
He’s never once told you he loves you, and your relationship wasn’t a spoken fact. His actions tend to speak louder than words, and if you say you love him, he will occasionally reply with a “back at ya.” Or “me too”
He always has weird shit in his pockets, like cool rocks he found, dead flowers, and fallen leaves.
He genuinely does not understand a single thing that Eugene says, and he never has.
The first time he ever kisses you on his own (you 100% have to make the first move) it’s a very rough and embarrassed act where he just grabs you and plants one in ya before you can even think about what’s happening
He will change his favorite color to whatever yours is, because if you can see beauty in it, then it’s all he can see from then on out
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