#the idea of someone looking to him with utter devotion in their eyes

[itsabardknocklife]

Going into the Rolan tag is always such an experience for me, because I often get the feeling I'm the only person picking up Dom vibes from him.

[alastorss]

brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—

why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?

a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^

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"What did you say?"

"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.

"That thing you just said. Repeat it."

You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."

"No, dear, before that."

The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.

"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"

He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.

Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?

"My apologies but... where did that come from?"

"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.

No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.

"Of course, cher."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.

It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.

He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.

"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"

He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.

"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.

You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."

He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.

Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"

Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"

"Why did you not call me Allie?"

Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.

Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.

"What?" He grumbles.

"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"

His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."

"So you like it?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Liar, you do!"

Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"

You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."

Yet the way his smile softens says it all.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)

[pappydaddy]

made for loving you (s.h.)

a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)

synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.

taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 |@i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff

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____

  King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.

  It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her. 

  From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.  

  Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour. 

  “I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”

  “It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt. 

  Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.” 

  Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.” 

  “Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”

  Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.” 

  Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself. 

  Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else. 

  “I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly. 

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.” 

  “What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft. 

  “Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.” 

  “W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her. 

  They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

  Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him. 

  Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers. 

  The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over. 

  “Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.” 

____

  By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house. 

  A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car. 

  “You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair. 

  Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that. 

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button. 

  “Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye. 

  He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.” 

  “You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.

  Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.” 

  “Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face. 

  “I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.” 

  Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-” 

  Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live. 

  He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.

  Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon. 

  Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more. 

  “Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.

  Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night. 

  His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.

[pretty-toru]

lovesick┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.4k

୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.

Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.

How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.

But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.

No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.

"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.

"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.

"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."

"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.

"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"

"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.

"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"

"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.

"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."

As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."

"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."

"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.

"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.

"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."

When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."

With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."

Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.

"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."

"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."

Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.

"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"

Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."

"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."

"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 14: You Never Said Anything (Leto Atreides)

Angstember Prompt Post || Word Count: 1.2k Leto Atreides x reader who would wear a wedding dress/makeup/has boobs

The warm tenor timbre of his voice drifts down the corridor upon his arrival - the sound of it sending servants scurrying and your heart racing. Misty eyes flutter closed as you sharply inhale, disturbing the final touches your cousin is putting on your makeup.

She asks if you're well and you insist you needed a breather. Gathering your wedding gown in trembling hands, you scurry along familiar passageways, hoping for merely glimpse of him, while unaware of his invitation to the wedding.

You find him in a place you used to rendezvous, in the east wing, standing as stoic as the statues surrounding him.

"Leto..."

At the sound of his name on your lips, he meets your searching gaze, the breadth of his shoulders rising and falling dramatically. His eyes flicker, dancing away as he presses plush lips into a fine line.

"What grants me the honor of the bride's presence on her wedding day?" He chokes out, almost flinching as your gentle hand lands upon his arm. The mighty Duke of House Atreides weakens for you.

"I didn't know you would come. I had no idea," you breathlessly utter.

"I was invited," he simply responds, jaw clenching.

Your hand drops defeatedly. "Will you at least look at me?"

His boots shuffle forward, toe-to-toe with your delicate slippers. He fully regards you then, eyes wide open, and in them, you can see straight to his soul.

“You’re breathtaking,” Leto whispers, stealing your own breath along with this stolen moment with someone else's bride-to-be. He doesn't dare touch something so beautiful - someone not his. Earthen eyes tenderly trace the contours of your face as his corded neck bobs uncertainly above the collar of his pristine uniform.

"Thank you." Your eyes dip demurely under his gentle scrutiny. You clench your fingers into fists by your sides, the ache to rake them through his curls overwhelming. "H-how is your son?"

Chin tipping up proudly, he recognizes the question for what it is: a reminder that he exited your life and you are about to start a new one. "He's growing fast. Smart. Devoted to his studies and training."

"That's wonderful," you sincerely nod, but pause, realizing there are few pleasantries you can exchange before addressing, or ignoring, what pulses beneath the surface.

“I’ve missed you.” The words escape your lips almost without your mind’s consent, but you can’t waste the opportunity to utter them. Placing your gloved hand over his, you allow your body to lean in, eyes misting with the torrent of emotion he elicits. “I wished for this. To see you one more time.”

“I thought it was my wish - this moment,” he admits, tilting his head to catch your gaze once more. “To see you happy before…”

He drags in an uncertain breath, a vulnerability he’s not likely to expose to many.

“Before what?” You’re holding hands now, whispering, huddled together in a manner far too intimate for one betrothed.

“Before I’m gone.” His eyes darken as his jaw squares. Shoulders straighten as his body tries to convince him, and you, that he is ready for his duty. “The Emperor has ordered House Atreides to Arrakis, to oversee the production of spice.”

“He wouldn’t,” you protest.

“He has. It is done.”

“Let me speak with him,” you plead. “He is my father’s cousin. Let me intercede on your behalf. I know your heart is with Caladan.”

“There is no call House Atreides does not answer,” Leto proudly reminds you.

You bitterly chuckle at the notion of the loyal, stoic obedience of House Atreides. It broke your heart long ago.

“So you came to stay goodbye then?” Your lip trembles at what this directive could mean for him and his house.

The deep wrinkle between his eyes softens as he braces himself for your final moments together.

“I came to wish you well.” His eyes drop to your joined hands. “And bid you farewell.”

You turn away from him then, head dropping as fresh tears sting your eyes.

“I wanted this to be you today, Leto. Not him,” you openly confess.

He sighs, the starched fabric of his uniform shifting as he eases around in front of you.

“As did I. Truly.”

“Truly? You never said anything,” you gasp, shaking your head forlornly. “You just let me go.”

A tormented sadness ghosts over his face as he realizes… “No, the Emperor forbade it. I thought you knew. I thought you agreed.”

“How could I know? You never said anything.”

“Oh my love,” he gasps, pulling you instantly into his strong embrace. You melt against the solid heat of his chest, fists grasping at his uniform jacket. His mouth seeks yours out, roughly covering your lips with his own.

Long fingers wind behind the nape of your neck as he tilts his head, dragging his lips against yours until his tongue parts the seam of your lips for a deeper taste. You feel the heat of his breath, the flush of his skin, and as the hand wound around you finds the fullness of your hip through your wedding gown, he squeezes possessively.

Tongue rolling over yours, he devours you, releasing your neck to drag his palm down over the swell of your breast, cupping underneath it. A moan spills from your mouth to his and you do finally twist your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck.

Any sense of propriety leaves you as he molds your body to his, and you feel certain if you didn't hear footsteps falling along the corridor that you would give yourself to him completely.

"Come away with me," he pleads on your ear, holding you against him for a brief eternity before his son appears in the doorway. He quickly but tenderly dismisses the boy as you rush to make yourself presentable.

Noticing he's smeared your makeup and ruffled your stunning gown pulls a sincere apology from his lips.

"Forgive me. It's your wedding day. I shouldn't." He doesn't know what else to say. Your life is here. Your future is here. He cannot shuttle you away to Arrakis to wilt in the desert heat.

"I would...come with you," you softly admit, eyes searching for his, to ground him here, to keep him in your sight, close to you for a few divine moments longer.

"But the Emperor forbids it," he restates the obvious, "and you are to be married to a man of his choosing."

"Leto," you cry, reaching for his face, brushing your fingers through his thick beard, "what can we do?"

You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the only answer he could ever give.

"We will do our duty. We must."

"What is duty without love?" You protest, wishing he would hold you like he did moments before, but knowing he never will again. "Would you really take me with you?"

"No," he answers resolutely, brown eyes darkening. "But I will come back for you...if that is what you wish." Touching his forehead to yours, he caresses your cheek tenderly. "But understand: you could have love here. The love of your family, your friends. Even him. And someday, the love of a child. There's no other love like it, I assure you."

"It's you I love," you insist, kissing him one final time.

You have a choice to make. Marry today or wait for the Duke of House Atreides, until the Emperor's task for him on Arrakis is complete.

If only you could have seen then, it would be a lifelong wait.

Angstember Masterlist || Misc. Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[darylsfavoritegirl]

It's very awkward to post after so long. This is not proofread so it probably has a lot of mistakes I'll edit after posting lol I just wanna put something out here. This has been on my drafts forever. There'll be a part 2!! (hopefully). I got me some ideas for this type of plot!!

Summary: Right after losing the prison, y/n loses her way and stumbles upon that jerky group daryl had to deal with. They unite and all.

Your hand went out to the unyielding fingers covering your mouth as you breathed harshly through your nose.

The guy behind you yanked your arm to your back, forcing you to stay still. There you were, trapped among a couple of men and even with Daryl, they outnumbered you.

Your heart's beating made you lightheaded. You were already hungry and the pit in your stomach grew more obstinate.

"Easy, Len." The chubby one shouted lightly with a half-grin tugged on the curls of his lips.

"Joe'll want her nice and neat." He leered through you with half-lidded eyes as if a starved bear. His body reeked with eagerness that turned your stomach upside down.

A minute passed as his men started looking around bewilderedly.

Your heart skipped a beat. He was leading them to your camp with Daryl. You shut your eyes screwed as Len's enthusiastic breathing tickled the back of your neck.

"Been watchin' this bitch. She's got a boyfriend somewhere 'round here."

Your eyes burned as he kept sniggering behind your ear. His pitiful friends started to laugh your ears off alongside him.

You yelped against his palm pressing harshly against your lips as you shook your arms, trying to free yourself.

"Oh, oh easy attagirl." He came close near your neck, whispering into your ear.

"Shut that little mouth for your sweetheart's dear life."

A tear slided down your cheek onto his knuckles. It was out of pure rage and how you couldn't do a thing about it.

"Seeing how she resisted us... Joe will want someone like her." Another man uttered as questions pondered your head. Who was this man?

"Yeah yeah yeah."

You could feel Len shaking his head in a fancy way as if mocking.

"But first, we'll have our fun.. am I right gentlemen?" He chuckled behind your ear as your vision darkened.

Your vein on your neck throbbed against your ear as their rigid laughs filled the air before they all turned around harshly.

Len forced you around aswell, and there he was, Daryl, his crossbow looking directly into Len's forehead as he spoke in a commanding voice. They could outnumber him, outpower him yet he was the one with his lethal weapon, catching them off guard.

"If ya lay hands on 'er, consider yerself a dead man."

Your eyes followed the chickened-out Len who-was-yet trying to stand his post like a devoted soldier. After all, he had the numbers.

"If you are a smart man, you'd drop that crossbow of yours to the ground." He demanded, his eyes peeking along his men as if seeking verbal support.

"We got your girl, don't we?" He forced a chuckle.

"Nah. Handling a whole bunch o' pricks ain't never been trouble." He whispered under his breath, not taking his eyes off of the man holding you hostage.

"You've got some balls, I'll give you that."

His mockery grew denser as Daryl was not acknowledging your presence yet your gaze never left his face and his firm stance.

"But see, you ain't gonna win this. You'd be-"

All of your heads turned to the sound of someone clicking their tongue in the middle of the woods behind some bush.

There appeared a man looking in his middle or late 50s with distinctive features bearing his face. You heard one of the men softly huff "Joe.." as you exchanged glances back and forth.

"That ain't very nice now is it Len?" He inquired, not masking his letdown filled with an uncanny stare.

"We- we were bringing these two right to you." He stuttered, you felt his grip loosening on your back. You heard his chapped lips forcing a smile, a smile without the eyes.

"Then why the hell that fella over there holding his crossbow at your skull point?" He smiled, trying to look inviting to you, nonetheless you wouldn't buy it.

"Got his baby-doll over here." He chuckled, putting on a confident manner.

The man they called Joe, smiled.

"Son o'va bitch is a chatter." Daryl said. You turned your head to him for a brief moment as he kept pogging Len with his dark-eyed stare.

"Let go of her." He shook his fingers at the two of you as you felt him letting go completely.

You massaged your wrists as you gazed at Daryl through your brows. If you were alone, you'd just bolt as fast as you could, only you weren't and you had no weapons whatsoever.

Joe came closer to him, only leaving a distance with the crossbow between them.

"You ain't very friendly." Joe expressed and yet again you felt that ear-offing, jambering on tone in his voice.

Daryl stayed silent, his solid gaze never left Joe's. Joe was inches away from death, even so, he kept making senseless, unnecessary comments.

"Well, can he talk?" He asked his men, chuckling at his own statement.

"Wer' leavin' " Daryl grunted as he didn't move or lower his crossbow.

Joe looked bewildered.

"Trust me, some of us are more hospitable."

Daryl finally lowered his crossbow.

"That ain't appealing ta me."

"Wer' goin' " He took a step ahead, Joe placing his arms on his ribs to stop him. Daryl initially glared down at his forearm then to his eyes, giving him a penetrating stare.

"No need for any o'us ta get hurt." Daryl glared at him obstinately

"See, that's right. So why don't you come with us? You don't seem like you got a group out there." He held out his hands extravangtly. He, then turned to you, his eyes sizing you up.

"Why don't you put some sense into your boyfriend over there?" He asked you as you sharpened your stare, then gaze at Daryl.

"I mean, trust me. You don't wanna die out there all alone." He chuckled loudly, vibrating the leaves and bushes all around you.

You stood there, mulling over your odds out there. It was just the two of you, plus both of you had no idea if any of your friends were even alive.

A part of you wanted to be part of someting greater. Safe to say, your prospects of surviving even with a gang like that were more favorable than it was with you two only.

The other part of you felt like you didn't have much of a say in this. Consequently this Joe guy was only asking you out of the little-to+none courtesy he persuaded he had in himself.

You'd spent your life with men like him. It was either with physical force or the presumed kindness and the virtue. Daryl had thought the same all along, you saw the little sparkles fade in his eyes when you looked up. This was the new world order.

Joe must've seen both of your features soothen that he clapped his hands dramatically and made a "Ha" sound.

You'd walked a few hours, exchanging secret glances with Daryl.

When you'd taken a break after walking for hours at an abandoned gas station was when Daryl embraced his arms all around you without saying a word as you were trying to figure at how to shatter a vending machine glass.

You were kneeling down, your palm was pressing your forehead as if trying to remember something long forgotten as your eyes were screwed shut.

It was like you'd totally forgot his presence, bearing you from walkers or more to say -something you both didn't wanna admit or had the heart to say it to eachother- bearing you from the gang of rural vigilantes you happened to join.

For a second, he knelt besides you, his crossbow still at hand with a brawny grip when you felt his arms go around you, followed by you getting up reflexively.

For a moment, you froze. Your eyes were stuck on a walker lurking around feets away you. Your hands stayed put, this had never happened before.

Then your heart melted into his. You noticed his heart beat going faster against your chest. You gulped, which made an out of the blue sound and you hoped he didn't notice. He didn't.

Then one of your arms started embracing his neck slowly while the other went over the back of his shoulders. You were sure you didn't go tighter with your hugging yet did it feel like you were suffocating him with your clutch.

His head fell to the crook of your neck, breathing lightly against your bare skin that goosebumps started swell.

" 'M jus' glad yer alright."

He, then broke the embrace, however your arms were still around his neck. You gazed deep into his eyes, aspiring to see something you'd never seen in those heavy, forever serious eyes.

"I'm fine, and you?" You tilted your head forward and gave him a begging stare through your lashes.

He let go of your waist and nod his head in agreement as he kept biting his bottom lip and eyeing you up and down.

You knelt down again, trying to look occupied incase any of them popped up infront of you.

Daryl was still standing, when you lifted your gaze to check him out was the time you were blinded with the sunny sun shine and his face wasn't visible. Too shadowed, too dark.

"What's wrong?" You asked as you kept working on the vending machine with an adjustable wrench.

He started speaking as if he was contemplating all along.

"If things go south, ya be the first one ta run off."

You furrowed your brows as you turned your head to his direction. There was the dazzling sunlight again, hence you shielded your eyes with your hands.

"And let them skin you alive?" You inquired. You knew the answer, yet you sensed to speak about it as to put sense into him.

He maintained his silence as you felt your rage run through you. You got up, the tool still in your hand and you squeezed it like you could break metal.

Your eyes cut right through him yet he stayed put.

"Daryl?"

He rested his body weight on one leg and kept staring at you.

"Those assholes kno' damn well how ta get a reaction outta someone." He lowered his eyelids.

"If sumthing goes down, I need ya gone."

"Right up."

"Ya hear me?"

Your eyes scanned him for a while with a wrinkly forehead. You didn't know which words to utter.

"I won't leave you." You said low as your eyes were trapped on the pavement 10 feets away from you.

You heard him letting out a sigh as you followed him with your eyes. You were beyond bewildered.

-End of Part One-

[symbioticsimplicity]

Don't think about Blitz swallowing back tears to appear angry as he asks Stolas what the fuck the point of keeping this deal up was if he was just looking for a chance to throw him away when he gives him the crystal. Don't think about the face Stolas would make. DEFINITELY don't think about Stolas finally losing his tight hold on his tongue and shouting at Blitz about how it isn't fair to either of them. For Blitz to be trapped by something he doesn't want, or for Stolas who just wants someone to love and value him. How he just wants to mean SOMETHING to SOMEONE so that he doesn't feel like the utter waste of space he's always been told he was. Don't think about him dropping to his knees sobbing or about him berating himself for still being pathetic. Don't think about the violent revelation that would be for Blitz, about how he would suddenly see himself in this man he's convinced himself couldn't be any more different from him.

Don't think about Blitz just standing there and staring for a long moment, before half tripping over himself to drop down and hug Stolas. Don't think about the broken way he'd try to tell him that he gets it, he really really does, but his care and his regard are toxic. Worse than having no one. Don't think about Stolas telling Blitz that his presence in his life has always been one of the only two things to ever make him genuinely happy. Or how Stolas could tell him Blitz's presence, even at its worst has helped him grow into himself in ways he never knew he could, but had always dreamed to.

Don't think about the immovable object of Blitz's disbelief being slammed against the unstoppable force of Stolas' genuine admiration. Don't think about the way hope might begin to blossom in Blitz's eyes or about the way that confidence could creep into Stolas' voice. Because this, this is something he can do, he knows how to talk, how to persuade, when he means it.

Don't think about Blitz putting every bit of obstinate stubbornness in his body toward convincing Stolas that that isn't true. Don't think about Blitz finally airing everything he he's done wrong to everyone he's ever wronged just to make sure Stolas knows he's trash. Knows he's not whoever Stolas has built him up to be in his mind.

Don't think about the horror in Blitz's eyes when Stolas goes still in his arms. How, for no more than a heart beat, Blitz is sure he's done it AGAIN and is already set to snuff that pathetic flicker of hope Stolas momenttarily awoke in him.

Don't think about Stolas's soft, kind voice telling him he doesn't care about that. How he isn't afraid of being hurt, he'd take pain over loneliness any day, and if Blitz hurts him, he will only ever come back for more and more so long as he cares enough to give him that pain.

Don't think about Blitz being both flattered and now terrified because what the actual fuck is wrong with Stolas, didn’t he JUST leave a relationship like that, he's too goddamn good to have to put up with that, didn’t he learn, doesn't he see?!

Don't think about Stolas looking at Blitz with heartfelt desperation, or Blitz looking at Stolas desperate heart feeling. Don't think about Blitz, who wants love more than anything, who wants to be chosen more than ANYTHING, absolutely trembling in the face of true devotion. He has no idea what to do with it, but his whole life has taught him to be opportunistic and he wants.

Don't think about him asking Stolas, one more time, so quietly he barely even sounds like himself "Me?"

Don't think about Stolas looking at him like he's the most glorious being in the cosmos, don't think about the reverence in his tone or the affection in his eyes as he tells Blitz that it's always been him. Don't think about Blitz trying not to cry and losing, settling for at least hugging Stolas so he can't see. The way the owl would wrap his entire body around him, finally finding exactly what he's been looking for and incomparably happy for it. Don't think about Blitz telling Stolas that it hasn't always been him, but that he's the first one he's ever chosen to come back to.

Just some things you shouldn't think about.

[hephanna]

hey!! do you have any idea of when you're going to update don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me)?

I don't mean to rush you, I'm sorry to bother you with this but I'm going a little crazy with the waiting and I've kinda lost count of how many times I've read the first chapter by now hahaha

hope you're doing great!! thank you for your writing ❤

Thank you so much for your interest!! I have about 5000 words written so far for the final installment of don't go sharing your devotions (lay all your love on me) so I am hoping to get the last bit written & then edit it within the next couple of days! Thank you so much for your wait, as well, I've been meaning to get to updating, unfortunately I was away from my house for awhile, but now I'm getting back on track ^_^ Here is a little unedited snippet (so I apologize for any errors) of what's to come! (Some good old Charles & Rowland bonding - nothing like talking to yourself from an alternate dimension) SNIPPET:

And speaking of wandering hands and the Edwin in the other dimension… “Hey, isn’t your boyfriend gonna be a bit pissed when he finds out you’ve been snogging someone else in another universe?”

Rowland stared at him in bewilderment. “My boyfriend is Edwin, and I’ve been kissing Edwin. What’s there to be mad about?”

“Maybe because they aren’t the same Edwin?”

Rowland tilted his head. “So, if you met Edwin from another universe, you’d what? Treat him differently?”

Charles twitched, awkwardly drumming his fingers against his trousers, pulled firm over his trembling knees. Would he be able to treat someone who wore Edwin’s face like a stranger? Someone that had the same sharp arch to their eyebrows, the same bright glint in their green eyes, the same smirk when they said something clever? That didn’t settle right in Charles, as if he had swallowed a heavy lump of concrete. Of course, if Edwin, any version of Edwin, stood in front of him Charles would still treat him as his best mate. Would still defend him with everything he had, promise to protect him from the world. Edwin was Edwin was Edwin. And yet...

“That’s different," Charles said sharply, "I’d just be treating him like a best mate not like a… not like a-.”

“Like a lover?” Rowland interrupted. “Okay, that’s your choice. But Edwin is my lover. I love him. He is my beloved. That’s never going to change.”

Charles coughed. Fuck, Rowland was cheesy. He’d never heard himself sound so sappy before. But it was almost sweet, in a way. How obviously in love with Edwin this version of himself was. Lover - beloved - somehow the words expressed more sentiment than boyfriend could ever come close to.

It made Charles feel kind of shite about himself, if he was being honest. This was a Charles that was able to give Edwin everything he desired, who would have heard his confession in Hell – Charles, I’m in love with you – and been able to respond back with a deep kiss and his own whispered confession, instead of Charles’ desperate ‘we’ll sort it out later’ that he had uttered, although he had tried, in his own way, to reassure Edwin that he was the most important person in the world to him.

Still, a part of him couldn’t help but also feel bad for that other Edwin. He was actually shagging Rowland – Charles wasn’t shagging Edwin, and he was admittedly furious about Rowland putting the moves on him. Every version of Edwin Payne, no matter what, deserved the utmost devotion.

“He’s gonna be jealous though, ain’t he? I just think you should be treating him better,” Charles said, crossing his arms and glaring.

Shockingly, Rowland didn’t look at all offended. In fact, he tossed his head back and laughed, bright and happy. “You are me! You actually, literally are me.”

“Huh?”

Rowland let his head relax back against the couch, tilting his head to the side and grinning. “Charles Rowland Instincts 101 – defend Edwin Payne at all costs. You haven’t even met my Edwin yet, and you’re batting for him.”

[animeyanderelover]

Hey! Im glad i managed to wake up early in the end! Here are my two requests and thank you so much for your great writing!

1. Yanderes of your choice (the ones who wear masks/cover their faces or are just insecure about their appearances in general) with a darling who always compliments their face, saying they look amazing and that they love all of them/the first time they see the yans face their reaction is to get all :OOOO and compliment it

2. yanderes of your choice with a minor deity reader, who doesn't have the same perception of boundaries as a normal person does plus is just happy they have a follower at least.....?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, manipulation

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz

Minor Deity s/o

Ash Landers

▫️​You may not be known very well as other deities are but with Ash you pretty much already have the most devoted and loyal follower one could ask for. Yet the fact that you were forgotten seems to affect him much more than it has affected you ever as he is in utter grief and sorrow when he finds out about it. Deities are supposed to be worshipped and treated with reverence yet humans truly seem to have forgotten how to pay respect and he is determined to see it through that your name will be called in prayers once again. After he has purified London, that is. With his darling being a literal deity though, Ash feels immense pressure to see it through that everything will be perfect for you. He lets churches and temples be build in your name and starts searching for humans he thinks would be worthy enough of worshipping you as he is basically planning to collect a cult for you. Your obvious clinginess is constantly overwhelming him though as he doesn't see himself as worthy for being touched by a deity like this, especially since he hasn't done anything to deserve it.

Juvia Lockser

💧​Juvia is constantly swooning over pretty much everything you do as her obsessive tendencies only increase as she figures out that you are an actual deity. You are literally perfect in her eyes. She spends days and weeks crafting a small shrine for you where she always leaves flowers, pastries or anything else for you as a sign of her adoration and love. She has a rather strange relationship with the idea of collecting other followers for you though. On the one hand she wants people to notice you because you are the most perfect and beautiful being as the mere thought that no one has ever been a follower of yours angers her greatly. On the other hand she also doesn't want to lose all the attention and affection she gets solely because she is the only one who calls herself a follower of yours now. You are very clingy with little to no perception of boundaries but since Juvia is exactly the same, this is just utterly perfect for her. The idea of you giving such attention to other people if they would start believing in you is a big cause of her jealousy as she would like to remain as someone special to you even if you should collect more followers.

Yato

🪙​Both of you share very similar struggles yet Yato shows much more concern for you as a deity will disappear if no human remembers them so he is very desperate to get you more followers. He starts with Hiyori as he asks her to not forget you for her entire life and to remember you and she really goes all out of her way to build you a small shrine similar to the one she has crafted for Yato. Otherwise Yato literally goes around with Yukine to fulfill his jobs whilst trying to advertise for you. Whilst you don't show any panic or fear due to having so only Hiyori as a human who believes in you as of now, he still feels like he has to do everything he can to cheer you up to keep you happy. He has very good intentions but at times he can go a bit too far by literally wracking some damage to induce humans with the belief that it was the work of you just to get their attention on you. Hiyori and you are ususally quick to scold him for it as you don't want to be remembered as a deity who harms other people. Yato happily indulges in your clinginess though because he can be quite touchy himself but he does get jealous quickly when you show similar amounts of affection to Yukine and Hiyori.

[sqvishii]

Hi, there! :D

Finally Silver's content and it is my obligation to brainstorm some ideas or scenarios with him

Ok taking into account that he can travel between dreams, imagine a scenario where he travels to the reader's dreams and in that dream the reader longs for another person from his original world (maybe a crush?)

Silver discovers this a little hurt so he will try to be better than that person by demonstrating his virtues trying to impress the reader. I think that a sadder scenario is that the soft dreams he had with the reader are not reciprocated and soon turn into ugly nightmares of the reader returning to his world, finally being with his beloved person.

In a Yandere route I think this can get twisted in the sense that he tries to brainwash the reader by trying to make each dream just between him and the reader. Even if he had to take matters into his owns hands, that person is just a bothersome thought that his loved one doesn't need to remember. 💔

HELLO AKAKKAKGAGIKRF HI AS I PUT MY HANDS ON YOUR SHOULDERS AND SCREAM AT YOU AFFECTIONATELY <33

this scenario reminds me of a fanfic of mine, lets do it :33

silver is obviously hurt once he sees the fact that you're holding hands with another person in your dream, only to find out that it was your crush.

he was obviously devestated. what do you mean you loved another person that isn't him!? he's practically sulking the entire day, avoiding you for the past few days until he finally snapped out of it.

so what if you had a crush? he'll prove to you that he can be better than them, by means of strength and intelligence, he'll have this unspoken rivalry with [character] until you fall in love with him.

and yet, when his eyes close and he finds himself sleeping, he wakes up with cold sweat dripping down his forehead and shaky hands, he hated this. he hated the fact that the usual lovey-dovey dreams he had of both you and him have become a nightmare.

a nightmare where his love wasn't reciprocated.

a nightmare where you were with another.

a nightmare where you didn't love him.

after a few months, it slowly drives him mad- this.. crush of yours with [character] is so stupid! why bother for falling in love with someone else when he's over there, hopelessly chasing after you and giving you all his love!?

but, realizing you hadn't had the chance to confess to your said crush, he quickly began thinking of multiple solutions until he got it.

make your dreams filled with him and only him.

of course, it starts small at first. silver making small appearances in your dreams such as being in the background, after some time, he obviously starts talking to you or some physical contact.. but it was weird how you felt him, you were pretty sure this is a dream.

right? right, so you shook it off. his appearances build up dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream after dream-

where was [character]?

what are you talking about?

you find yourself in a garden, seeing silver with that handsome smile and a bouquet of flowers (morning glory/asagao) in his gloved hands as he stood underneath the cherry blossom tree, a cliche type of confession, but it does the trick.

as you approach, he gives you that look where his eyes look at yours, love and devotion was the only thing present as he utters those words.

"i love you."

you know he does, he really does.

otherwise, he would get sick of saying the same thing countless times in this damned samsara loop.

[dira333]

[A Child's] Truth

Kakashi Hatake x reader / Kakashi Hatake and his son

requested by @revasserium - I have no idea what this is

His name is Sakumo.

His name is Sakumo and he’s barely two weeks old, tiny hands curled around the blanket he’s wrapped in, tiny nose crunched up as he lets out a first whimper. It’s a warning, the beginning of a storm, eardrum-shattering wails, arms flailing in clear distaste.

His name is Sakumo and Kakashi can’t stop looking at him.

Ages ago, when your relationship had not yet been defined by words, the edges still of it still blurred by fear, he’d brought back a dog from his mission.

It had been a mutt from the streets, its fur a dirty mix between black and white, but his eyes had been a deep and trusting brown. 

He’d called it Ume and brought it home and his instinct had been right. You loved it dearly.

Ume slept in your bed when he was away, and brought in the newspaper early when you refused to wake up after a mission ending late. Sometimes he even came home to Pakkun curled up under Ume’s massive paw.

Kakashi liked to think that your communication did not need words. That it transcended beyond the written or spoken language. 

One time - he had been drunk - he even prided himself in being able to read your desires off the curve of your eyebrows. Thankfully it had only been Guy who had been witness to that and he’d sworn his friend to secrecy back then when it turned out that he, Kakashi, could do many things. But if he could have read your desires he sure as hell would not have come home wasted.

But even with a few hiccups here and there, he knew what you meant when you looked at him and you knew what he meant when he curled his fingers or scrunched up his nose. 

It made his home life quiet and his relationship so unspectacular that even the worst gossipers decided to look past the two of you.

Until you came back home from a mission with a baby bound to your back.

It wasn’t his as much as it wasn’t yours. At least biologically. 

But he could read it from the curve of your eyebrows and the slope of your nose that you had tied your life to this child, had thrown your heart at it and lept after it.

And who was he but your devoted disciple?

“His name is Sakumo.” You told him and placed the tiny bundle into his arms, the red of the blanket so fitting against his Hokage coat. 

Sakumo’s face was scrunched up, his head covered by a fluff of white hair and Kakashi could not lie. He fell in love for the second time in his life.

There is a risk in adopting a child from outside the village.

The information you’d been able to gather about him was sparse but sadly promising. 

He had no other relatives, no Clan to call his own. His mother had died bringing him to life, her last wish uttered as she had wrapped her hands around yours and begged you to take her son in. 

No one would come looking for him and Kakashi, who knew all to well how that felt like, vowed to always look after him.

As a child, he’d learned that there were two worlds.

The one adults made up and the one children had to live in.

Adults like to tell him that his father had been a coward, a disgrace to Konoha, someone not worth remembering.

But Kakashi had known the truth and had to live with the reality. No father, no mother, no one who’d come looking if he didn’t come home from training.

Sakumo would have a different life.

Sakumo would grow up in the Hokage tower and see the village as it is.

Filled with people who tried their best under rules that were meant to be bent when necessary. 

Sakumo would learn the truth.

That those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash, but, even more important, that he’d always have someone looking out for him.

His name is Sakumo Hatake.

He has white hair but is six years old. 

He is the son of Kakashi of the Sharingan but has no Kekkai Genkai. 

He has two dogs but loves cats a little bit more. 

He can tell you a lot of lies, but he knows the truth:

He’s named after his grandfather, a hero.

[roxiezsxx]

~ hopeless devotion ~

Y/n is DreamXD's hopelessly devoted follower

Y/n was well known around the SMP for their loyalty towards the main God, DreamXD. If not in their house, they were in the temple, praying towards the Deity whether it be for prosperous wealth or a long lasting harvest they were there. Now DreamXD knew exactly who they were and to say the least he was interested with them whether it be infatuation or just a natural curiosity that he had always had towards humans, he himself was unsure and yet- he always made sure your prayers never went unanswered. To Foolish it had began to become bothersome as he was never around to help him in times of crisis and need, he was always beside you, was he happy his brother was off his back, well of course! but he needed help running the SMP. Foolish had nothing against you at all. "Again, Dream? let the mortal live in peace!" Foolish snapped. He had become overtly angry within the last few days, frustration boiling through his teeth and falling out into words. Hoping DreamXD could understand his current dilemma. "Im sorry Foolish, but arent they just captivating! look at them- isnt it just wonderful of mortals can have so little and still feel blessed?"

He smiled softly at your figure which was tending to your small chicken farm- your voice could soothe him to sleep if you talked for all eternity. He found you extravagant no not extravagant, calming and gentle. You treat no other animals different than you treated others. "And how could I stay away? look at them- they're angelic." His voice softened as he spoke of you, never letting you out of his sight. He sighed gently. "What next, your gonna betroth them to you?" DreamXD perked up at Foolishes comment, however foolishes face arose in fear "Oh no! no, no no! we cant be with mortals XD, you know that better than ANYONE else."

XD looked away anger chipping away at him "Dont you dare speak of her, you know she was our mother." Foolish scoffed, rolling his eyes as he walked out of the room of which DreamXD was watching you in, sick of it already. "You never listen XD. And one day you shall regret." He spat, the hatred and resentment towards him seeping into his words and body language. With that he left the room- slamming the door behind him a loud thud. "Useless. I don't need you," XD snarled, gripping the gold embezzlements upon the throne of which he sat upon. He pondered for a moment of what he should do, he held his chin within his right hand, soon enough he got an idea. "I shall just visit them, and court them to show him wrong, yes that shall do!" Soon enough the man teleported down to you- well not exactly on you, but near you, near enough so he could see you but you couldn't see him. He wearily walked closer towards you- his soft white wings dragging on the floor beneath him, he let out a cough to signal someone was there not sure on how to start the conversation. Y/N turned around, not fully looking up at him. "Yes, how may I help you-" Y/N'S voice was cut off as they stared at XD in utter shock and disbelief- immediately they fell to their knees and began to pray to him, an awkward yet smug smile. "Come now my follower, no such actions are needed." He spoke, his voice softening- he held his hand out for Y/N to take it . And they did their eyes sparkling in disbelief as they looked at him- he was much taller than them he appeared to be ten foot? maybe more? they were unsure and yet they stared at him with such hope. "My lord, may I ask why are you here?" Y/N inquired curious as to why DreamXD was stood infront of them, holding them with such care as if they were a porcelain doll that had withered with age and was close to shattering. XD did not have an answer to that, he stared down at them unsure of what to say- he tried speaking and yet nothing elicited from his mouth so he just stood in silence hoping you would too. He knows exactly what he came here for but it does not sound the best, he cannot just say "Oh my devoted follower i am here to ask you hand in marriage" he has only just met them. And yet he feels like they have met before like they were destined and designed for the other. -------------------------------------------- Foolish stared down at the interaction, nothing but disdain and disgust was painted upon his face. It would be different if it were him. he knew that because it was once him- once XD found out he forbade him from seeing him. His sam, it was not fair how when it came to DreamXD second standards were held up. "I shall make your life a living hell XD."

Word count-839 time spent on this- 3 hours HI GUYS AUTHOR HERE, I WOULD LIKE TO SAY I AM WORKING ON HATRED PT.2 I JUST HAVE WRITERS BLOCK SO IM TRYING TO HELP THAT WITH THIS!! :^ CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

[living-dead-girl7]

Bo with a girlfriend who has issues with her dad

more notes app stuff about bo and this is purely for self indulgent purposes as I am going through it

ALSO: definitely ooc Bo. I just want this man to soft and sweet to me

warnings: daddy issues ig, crying, soft bo, occ Bo, mentions of Bos trauma

FIRST OFF. I believe Bo would most likely fall for sometime younger than him. Maybe like 5-10 years. He wants someone younger to dote on him, and he also definitely loves the idea of an innocent lover

It’s also probably because he either likes the power or he wants to protect them, buts is probably a mixture of both. 

He wants to be heard and obeyed but also aches to cradle someone in his arms and tell them it’s going to be ok. (It heals the little boy that needed to hear the same. Maybe you should do the same to him. Kiss his scars, hold his face, kiss his cheeks, let you nose gently bump into his.) 

Speaking of holding is lover, if you were feeling down whether that be thoughts of what your someone said to you or the latter, he will press your body into his and softly whisper “Bo’s gotcha, don’t worry, it’s ok…” 

Bo understands what it feels like to be belittled for the simplest of things, especially from a parent, his heart aches thinking that you had to deal with the same even if it was much less than what he’s went though

You are his sweet girl, you didn’t deserve it. Deep down I think he believes that he deserved what happened to him. He thinks his fate was predetermined and the events just served to punish him for his future, like some power knew he would comment heinous crimes

But you? No. What sick person would even think about subjecting such a sweet thing like you to such vile things. 

His gut twists when he hears you crying and trying to tell him what’s wrong, when the words of your father leave your shaking form

It breaks is heart to see you turn back into the little girl that just wanted to be loved

As you are a blubbering mess at his feet , trying to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as all the memories come flooding back, Bo can’t help but scoop you up into his arms.

The material of his t shirt is soft against your cheek as he holds you close. The soft cotton grounding you to him, the warmth radiating for his chest allows you to melt into him.

His fists ball up the fabric of your shirt as he hears what your father said to you,

Bo can’t help but grit his teeth and bite his tongue and he holds you

His jaw locks involuntarily after every word you utter, he can’t bear to see you like this

He resorts to shushing you and gently rocking you back and forth, hoping it brings some comfort. Is the comfort for you or him? Nobody knows.

As you look up at him with tear stained and puffy cheeks he sucks breath, before softly saying, “I hope you know I can’t understand how you remain so beautiful while crying.” 

You laugh just a bit before he sees your eyes watering again. 

To try and combat the tears, he peppers kisses across your face, each kiss accompanied by a compliment and a soft declaration of his unwavering love for you 

Once the tears are gone for good, he gently forced your gaze to meet his, “Never think of what he said to you ever again, ok? I’m not asking, I’m telling you too. You will never see him again on my watch, and I will make sure if it. You belong here, where you are loved. Nowhere else.” His fingers keep their place under your chin as he tilts it even further to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s chaste, with no meaning behind it other than his unwavering love and devotion to you. He pulls back to breathe and he can feel your breath on his skin as you chase his lips down.

Finally, he feels a pang in his heart. Not from pain, rage, or even fear, but from his ever present want to keep you in his arms with your body pressed against his. 

He wants to keep you caged in his arms forever where no one can hurt you, and you’d let him. 

[sakumasmut]

Sub! Obsessed Yuzuru Fushimi • Smut fic • Dom! Sadistic GN Reader

No mention of genitals for reader, edging, oral sex, orgasm denial, obsessive Yuzuru, slight yandere themes (?), stepping on his cock, begging, Yuzuru is an obsessed freak and he cries and whimpers for you, dacryphilia, body worship, devotion, Yuzuru treats you like god.

.

.

.

The lack of Yuzuru content is absolutely criminal. How do people not like him? He's an obedient and capable butler, and he's just a little bit insane. What more can you want? That's hot as hell.

Imagine, Yuzuru eating you out as you lay lazily in your bed because he would do anything, anything to please you. He'd love servicing you so much, politely asking if he can use his fingers or his hand to heighten your pleasure. Those long and dexterous fingers reach deeper than his tongue ever could and he's using both to his advantage.

He might do this entirely for you but it's not like he doesn't have ulterior motives. He's obsessed, he adores you, he's absolutely sick for you. He'd kill for you, he'd exact your every order, even if it ruins him. He drinks your release like it's getting him drunk and high. He kisses your skin like he's worshipping a god. He calls your name like it's a prayer. He'd happily dive straight into hell, all for you.

He doesn't have any idea how someone like him can ever pleasure you, but he won't back down! He'll do his absolute damn hardest and if he ever disappointed you, it'd be a fate worse than death. He'd gladly let you render his tongue motionless, his throat choked, every one of his limbs completely limp if it means he could please you. On the condition that he's your only worshipper, you're free to do to him as you please.

Ride his face till he breaks his neck, use his cock till he's shooting blanks, use his hole till he passes out, and he'll do all of this with a delirious smile. No matter how hoarse his voice might get, he thanks you with a smile and a look of utter adoration in his eyes. He'll ask you if you're satisfied with his service, and if your answer is even a hair's width short of yes, he'll keep going. He's so happy to ruin himself, if it means making you happy.

Cue now, he's sitting between your legs and taking in your sex like a champ. He asks for everything. Can he move? Can he use his hands? His fingers? Should he eat everything and clean you up? His mouth leaves your sex with a pop, asking you all this. He's so obedient, so sweet to you.

But he just can't ignore the stinging feeling in his crotch. He might be focused entirely on you but just the sight of your skin is enough to make him hard as a rock. He ignores it. He ignores it all the time. He won't satisfy himself, not until you say he can.

His throbbing cock is pulsing red, the pain and edging making him moan and cry. He could cum just from pleasuring you, but until you give him permission, he won't. Still, he'd rather not have blue balls, so he sweetly and politely asks you for permission to cum. You're so sweet, you'd surely——

"No."

Yuzuru wished he misheard you. His cock is throbbing so painfully it turns a shade of red he's never seen before. But he heard you, nothing's wrong with his hearing. He heard no. No means no. Even so, he's so desperate, he asks.

"Just once, dear? It hu—"

But a look of disapproval shuts him up so fast.

"I'm sorry..." He apologized for even asking.

If you don't want him to cum, so be it. He'll be obedient. So what if his dick is blue...?

He tried to justify it in his head but still, he wants it so bad! He'd never blame you though. He thinks. Maybe if he pleased you enough, surely.

His tongue swirls around you like there's no tomorrow. Just pleasuring you is enough to make him hard and get him to cum, but he restrains and denies himself for your sake. The last thing he wants is a disappointed look on your face...

No, he doesn't want that! He'd cry and sob if he ever did...

So put your foot on his throbbing cock— even a touch is enough, but stepping on it till it's pressed down? He screams. The pain, the touch, you... He sheds a tear, he's screaming, he's holding back from cumming immediately. It's torture, but you never told him to stop.

His tongue continues lapping at your sex, moaning around it helplessly whenever you step on his red angry cock again. It's taking way too much to just not cum, his work on your sex is starting to get lazy. He can't decide if he should break your order and cum, going back to pleasing you with his mouth... Or giving you a sloppy job holding back his cum. It's way too hard. He's human. He sobs dramatically and he nearly bites on your sex, instead biting on your thigh till his teeth sank in.

It hurts so much. It feels so good. He's torn, so torn, either way he's going to disappoint you somehow. And the thought makes him cry and scream even more. Are you doing this on purpose? He sees no motive in your actions other than to simply see him wrecked and ruined, but his brain is short circuiting from the pleasure to even rationalize anything anymore.

His arms gave out, he's on the floor, your heel on his cock and pressing it down when it should be standing tall and proud. It hurts. It feels too good. He lets out sobs and screams, begging you mindlessly. He's been good! He's been pleasuring you with his mouth for hours. He's been nothing but good to you! He curses himself and begs with you to let him cum, but his restraint slips and he immediately regrets it so, seeing his cum stain your leg.

He disobeyed. He disappointed you.

His cries became more intense and he starts mouthing apologies, begging you to give him another chance. He's desperate and he's whining, begging and pleading for you to be kind. Forgive him, he won't do this ever again. He swears! Seeing him beg through teary eyes and wet cheeks, shivering from his orgasm but not caring about it just so he could plead with you. Ignoring himself just for you...

He's far too good for you.

Something about men crying and begging got me obsessed and intrigued and cruel. I swear I'm a sweet little cutie boy who's a twink and OHHH so frail and small but... Hehehe. Teeheeehee.

🧋anon :3

goddd I can’t put into proper words how good this was I love submissive men I love it when they whimper and cry. it’s just so hot when someone so devoted like yuzuru lets you do whatever you want to him because he loves you that much

[mediumsizedpidegon]

I'm unable to stop thinking about OG!Mobei-Jun. We never meet him like we do Luo Bingge but I have such a strong image of who he is.

To reference a text post I am obsessed with, if Luo Bingge is a male power fantasy, original Mobei-Jun is the ‘one man as an island’ belief. The idea of ‘one man as an island’ is basically the same as the lie of complete self sufficiency.

It means; you don’t NEED help. It means: you are an island, a city, a nation within yourself, and so you are all you need. It means; you aren’t weak and you can do EVERYTHING yourself. And while this isn’t an inherently male concept (everyone can be influenced by it) it does tend to be extra emphasized in male spaces. It’s certainly part of the toxic masculinity package. Because in toxic masculinity, other men are competitors. Rivals. Enemies. You crush them to get what you want and you do it alone.

Airplane takes Luo Bingge and turns a story about the cycles of abuse into the height of male power fantasies. And Airplane thus takes Mobei-Jun and projects his desires to be a one-man-island.

Because islands aren’t lonely. They can’t feel lonely. (You are a one man island and you don’t need people so that means you chose your aloneness. you have control over it.)

And here’s the thing: complete self sufficiency is utter HORSESHIT. ITS A LIE. IT DOESNT FUCKING WORK.

Since complete self sufficiency is a lie, translating Mobei-jun from book to real person gets wayyyy more complicated.

So my view of OG!Mobei Jun is someone who has frozen himself into complete indifference. He’s a man who desperately wants to belong to someone or something but has forgotten how. He’s a closeted romantic who has gouged out all the soft and vulnerable parts of himself. He moves through life as if everything is beneath him and less real than him because if it isn’t then he’ll fall apart spectacularly. He’s a man who’s sat so long with solitude that it’s crystallized him into a moving statue. He’s a flesh and blood person but he is so incapable of letting his guard down that the entire world sees the mountain he wants to be and not the cracks where the illusion fails. He doesn’t know how to live. He refuses to die.

OG!Mobei-Jun is the myth of self sufficiency. And it eats him alive.

He can’t trust his family, so he raised himself while "overseeing his future realm," leading to him being malnourished and touch-starved. He can’t trust his servants, and so he learned how to put on everything himself— in simple styles so that he could do them even injured. He can’t trust his advisors, so his kingdom is governed by fear and precedent rather than understanding. He can’t trust his palace, and so he is short on sleep and good food and relaxation: after all, he must do everything himself and thus he must know everything.

In comparison to SVSSS, original Mobei-Jun is noticeably thinner. He wears makeup to hide the dark circles beneath his eyes. The wound from the Huan Hua dart never healed right: and neither did many, many others. Compared to our Mobei-Jun, he looks…. brittle, with the vicious fear of an animal backed into a corner.

SVSSS Mobei-Jun is taller, bigger. He has that extra essential “I’m not alone and being taken care of” weight. Even just by looking at him, you can tell that he is miles steadier, with people he can trust at his back. He’s not constantly shaking with a combination of touch starvation and paranoia. He has less scars and the ones he does have look better taken care of.

SVSSS Mobei-Jun is just.... a complete antithesis to his original self. A complete deconstruction of the self sufficiency myth.

A one man island wouldn’t be rescued like three times like a damsel in distress! A one man island wouldn’t have a devoted servant to care for him: to heal his wounds and give him food and drink, a place to rest, and information more valuable than gold. A one man island wouldn’t know gentleness if it clubbed him in the head!

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that Shang Qinghua has a MONUMENTAL impact on Mobei-Jun’s life and his entire perception of the world and himself.

This is a man who could have friends! This is a guy who is unguarded enough to actually fall in love! This is a dude who might be close to some distant family members! This is a guy who might have HOBBIES or THINGS THAT MAKE HIM LAUGH!!!! The ripple effect goes and goes and with Shang Qinghua smashing his ‘I need to do everything myself’ belief, Mobei-Jun can relax and actually trust people! Other people even!

Imagine a Mobei-Jun that has not just Shang Qinghua but!! A half sister he really likes!! A couple great aunts he can ask for advice!! Some cousins that have children that call him uncle!! A friend or two!!!!

THIS IS NOT A MAN ALONE!!!

[fluffyprettykitty]

Luminescence

Pairing: Jack Russell x female reader (no other specifications!)

Word Count: 1300 words

Outline: You and Jack have long been lovers but this was the first time watching him transform in your presence.

Warnings: exophilia, breeding kink, nipple pulling, rough penetration, marking.

Author's Note: Been meaning to write this since October, it was long overdue. First time writing something for someone in the werewolf form, hoping I did it some justice. Thank you for sharing your ideas with me about this dreamboat of a man!

PS: dividers by @firefly-graphics ​//​ banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Jack Russell Masterlist

It was Friday the thirteenth and there was a full moon.

You were sitting outside Jack’s self-made cage in the basement of the house you have been sharing together but it was the first time you were feeling scared for him. You knew about him, his transformation, the way he felt, the way he tried to relax but he never could risk you coming downstairs during the night. 

The night had fallen, three more hours to go until midnight came and the moon shined bright and Jack’s eyes were the first to change. He sat like this with his back on the wall, his head pushing back breathing steadily in and out. 

“It’s gonna be alright.” He whispers. “You don’t ever have to worry about me, my love.” He whispers slowly not wanting to look at you for now. 

“I’ll make sure it is.”

That makes him chuckle and he reaches out his hand to you, extending his beating heart just for you. 

“I love you. Always know this.” He gives you a soft smile and squeezes your hand gently and you can’t help but fall a little more in love with the man you’d choose every day of your life.

Last night you had seen a bizarre dream, a beast devouring a red-clad woman, feasting on her body and it set your soul on fire. Today you didn’t want to leave him by your sight but you honestly could not expect what would come next. 

His transformation happens slowly, one body part following another body part. His nails show first, followed by a mountain of hair that you could never honestly expect to make you feel the way you felt.

Utter and overwhelming lust. 

And you knew he could feel it too. 

Jack now in his werewolf form pushes the bars of the cage open bursting out of it just to grab your body, squeezing you in his arms. It’s primal and different, his eyes reflecting the moonlight but you knew there was utter devotion and affection behind them. He pauses, he is asking for permission and you slowly nod your head. You could ever so clearly recognize the man you fell in love with. 

His big hands caress your body, starting from your back to your waist, to your hands, wanting to feel you like this, skin on skin and you are thankful for the simple long dress you had worn that morning. His touch feels both familiar and new yet what you notice as very different is the way he smells the air, constantly sniffling, as he pushes your sleeves up. 

He grabs your hand no longer able to resist himself and smells your skin so deeply, eliciting a growl that your body's heat grows stronger. And he knows it too. His hands move to your neck and he pushes the fabric down to expose your neck for him to smell and devour as he likes. It feels as if he is rubbing himself on you, wanting to both engulf you in his smell and have yours in return. 

Once he has enough of your neck he pushes the fabric further down, tracing his hands over your bra. A little bit worn as it was one of your older everyday ones with that distinct mark from the one time he had literally bitten it off of you. That memory makes him growl once more before he is burying his head between them, stretching his head until you help him get it off. 

Your hands are now caressing his furry face holding his chin for him as he is using his tongue on your nipple, a satisfying purring coming from him. 

“Jack…my love.” 

You breathe out when he starts pulling your nipple. He feels so much stronger and bigger against your body, so like you’ve never felt before. Amusing though you find how obsessed he seems to be in any form with your breasts, any day it was hard to push him off you. He growls in response pushing you against his mouth, to devour you better and you can’t help but moan louder. 

“I need more…So much more.” 

You mewl and it reminds you of all your everyday sex life, where Jack focused so much on your nipples because he liked watching you orgasming like this. Just from his mouth. And then he’d eat you out again, depriving you of his delicious cock until you were too weak for him. Too weak to resist his touch. 

There was no way you were missing out on werewolf dick. 

He shyly looks up at you as if he wants to say something. Something along the lines that if he starts he won’t stop until he breeds you fully and somehow you understand. You understand because that’s what you want. To become one with him. 

“Please, make me yours, entirely yours. I want to be claimed by you, Jack.” You plead, your wetness getting entirely too much for you to handle on your own. 

But this was still the Jack you knew and once he let go of your nipple, he pushed the dress upwards and crowned himself on your pussy until one mind-blowing orgasm later, you were begging him to stop. He could never be the kind of man to skip a meal.

A couple of minutes later, your dress is ripped on the floor, your body is pinned against the wall as you are holding the cage bars tightly while Jack is pushing his fat leaking cock inside you. The unfamiliar stretch is making you groan in shock. You had never felt more full, more filled, and more unsatisfied.

“M…” You try to whisper but the pain is overwhelming you. 

“Mo…” “More!” “Please, please, please!” 

You try to shout and your hands fall on his shoulders. He growls

and starts bending his hips against your body slowly. He wants you to feel any and every inch of him. Just like he always does, slow and punishing. 

Slowly like this, he starts claiming you as his. Moving your body in a way that makes your breasts jiggle only for him, his strong stare warming your soul. Where you always wanna be. His cock is leaking pre-cum inside you and it makes you feel whole. 

“Give me your pup, baby.” 

You breathe out and the words escape from your lips before you can even think them through. Jack howls for the first time, you can hear him do that and the pride and love you felt for him were unmatched. 

Then he breeds you exactly as you wanted him, turns you around, manhandles you, and pushes you on top of your dress, gripping your hips from the back. He pushes his cock inside you fast, and immediately snaps his hips forward, setting a brutal and hard pace, fast and strong until he feels himself coming undone. Howling as he does, spreading his knot inside you and filling you up. 

The amount of cum that’s leaking down your thighs with his huge cock still inside you has you delirious. Oh next time, you were getting that thing inside your mouth. 

Some full moons made werewolves like Jack became obsessed with breeding someone with their pup, the older and stronger they got and Jack had long been in love with you. Now laying on his hairy chest, naked and satisfied, bred and full, you are caressing his cheek, looking at him tenderly. That’s where you always wanna be on his lap, laying on his chest and breathing him in. 

Your lover, your life, your light. 

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