#that no matter how others or hell even his own self tries to hide it he's shockingly gentle and considerate

[dnangelic]

no wait im not done because if dark's at all a scumbag then it's only ever thanks to him making promises he literally cant keep and therefore stringing people along. he's always telling people he'll see them again or swears he'll come by later to keep them swooning and dreaming and thinking of/remembering him even after he disappears ("sometimes a phantom thief's duty is to lie for the sake of people's happiness") and then never shows up again because he literally doesn't have the freedom to be able to do so!! if he comes by at all it's only thanks to daisuke letting him in one way or another but everything else he's always getting accused of be it in canon or fanon is just wrong. he's not trying to maliciously manipulate daisuke. he genuinely prefers non-violence. he's a flirt, but even in interviews sugisaki defined him as 'someone who never goes so far as to make others uncomfortable,' he's not the sort of person to kidnap or force himself onto others, ever, he's a thief and a criminal but even that in canon is undermined by the way that krad is ten million times worse!!

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 4

and the @steddiesongfics july prompt

Easy

prompts: trade, body swap & song: Nik Kershaw (Wouldn't It Be Good) | wc: ~1.2k | rated t | cw: recreational drug use | tags: steve has a bad relationship with his parents, good uncle wayne appreciation, repressed feelings, steve has a crush on eddie, friends to lovers | also on ao3

They’re lying on Eddie’s floor, sharing a joint like they often do. Hanging out, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company.

Eddie’s been rambling for the past ten minutes, talks about how he’d like to swap bodies with Steve for a day, how he’d want to experience a day in Steve’s life first-hand.

   “Why the hell would you want that?”

   “You got it easy,” Eddie says matter-of-factly and Steve snorts at this very untrue claim.

   “Yeah right, I wish.”

   “What could possibly make Mr popular rich boy’s life hard, huh?” Eddie teases and Steve knows he doesn’t mean it in a hurtful way but it still stings.

   “You don’t know a thing bout it,” he answers simply, before snatching the joint from Eddie’s fingers and taking a long drag.

Steve doesn’t want to open up that box. He came here to forget, not to talk about what’s keeping him up at night.

   “So? Tell me then. I wanna know. Because- and don’t take this the wrong way, Stevie – but I really can’t see it. I mean, look at me. I’m certified trailer trash. I know what it’s like to live on nothing but toast and peanut butter for weeks because the washing machine broke and the next pay check isn’t yet due.” Eddie laughs but Steve can’t find it in him to join in on it.

He hates when Eddie calls himself that, trailer trash. As if living in a trailer park makes him less of a person. It doesn’t! It just means that Eddie and his uncle are less fortunate than others.

Steve didn’t do shit to earn the comfort of growing up in a big house, was just... lucky to be born into the Harrington family.

Wayne on the other hand is doing his best, is giving his all to make their life as good as possible.

Steve envies that.

Wayne is an honest and hard-working man, and even if Eddie likes to joke around and belittle himself for their situation, Steve knows he cherishes everything Wayne has done for him. Steve knows Eddie will do everything to make him proud. To repay him for taking him in when he needed a place to stay. For always being there for him, for supporting him. For loving him unconditionally.

They might not have much but they have each other. It’s something Steve would trade everything he owns for without hesitation.

In a heartbeat, he’d give up his inheritance for a relationship with his parents that is as respectful and loving as the one between Eddie and his uncle.

Because Steve might have a nice car, a pool in the backyard, and a name that can open doors for him but- at home, he feels lonely, unloved. He’s a failure, his father keeps reminding him. And worst of all, he’s afraid to be his true self around them because they’d never accept it, would never understand.

   “Steve? You with me?” Eddie pushes himself up on one arm, his face hovering over Steve’s. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to-“

   “Nah, you’re good. Just got a little lost in my thoughts.” Steve offers a weak smile but he can sense that Eddie doesn’t buy it.

He knows him too well.

Has this annoying ability to read Steve like an open book.

It’s like he can see right through him, can see right through Steve’s little white lies whenever he tries to talk himself out of something.

There’s only one thing Eddie doesn’t know about him and never will. It’s Steve’s best kept secret; not even Robin knows. Because he can’t risk his parents finding out about it.

If Eddie knew, maybe he’d understand and take back what he said earlier because yeah, sure, Steve’s life might seem easy from an outsider’s point of view, someone who only sees the shiny exterior of his golden cage.

It’s a false illusion, because contrary to Steve, Eddie does not have to hide a certain part of himself out of fear of the consequences.

Wayne loves him regardless, accepts all of him. Wayne knows, and he’d put up a fight with anyone who doesn’t agree with Eddie’s... choices.

Steve’s father would kill him if he ever found out that his son is-

   “Alriiight, enough for you!” Eddie sits up and reaches for the joint that’s slowly burning down in Steve’s hand.

Their fingers brush and it feels like the world stops for a second. Steve finds Eddie’s gaze, can’t look away, slowly loses himself in Eddie’s dark brown eyes. The air is crackling between them and Steve feels tiny electric shocks prickle on his skin when Eddie lifts his free hand and cups his face.

The hand doesn’t linger, unfortunately, moves up his temple to brush a strand of hair back from Steve’s forehead. It’s a kind gesture and Steve wishes he could lean into the gentle touch.

But he can’t. He can’t let the wall crumble because Eddie would instantly know what it means.

Would know that, behind layers of pretentious confidence, Steve hides this vulnerable part of himself.

That there, locked away in his fragile heart, burns a small flame. A flame he tried to smother, that keeps flickering unrelenting.

Because every time Eddie looks at him, every time he smiles, every time they touch – it’s like gasoline to the flame, setting his insides ablaze.

Eddie’s hand retreats but the sensation on Steve’s face remains, hot and red. He knows he’s blushing, hopes he can blame it on the buzz from the weed.

   “Sometimes I wish-“ Steve realises too late that he said it out loud.

   “Wish what?” Eddie asks, curiously waiting for Steve to continue.

   “Sometimes I wish things were different.”

   “What would you change?”

    This right here, Steve thinks. You being so close but not close enough.

   “I’d change who I am.”

   “Who would you want to be, if you could choose?”

    Yours.

   “I’d want to be someone who’s brave.”

   “Pff, you’re literally the bravest person I know.” Eddie scoffs affectionately.

   “If I’m so brave, then why I am so scared?” Steve knows it’s more than he should confess, too much for Eddie not to keep digging.

   “Scared of what?” Eddie looks at him like he’s searching for the answer in Steve’s eyes, intense and pensive. And then he smiles, bright and warm and fond in a way that makes Steve’s heart stutter.

Inside him, the flame flares up, spreads heat from his heart through his veins and Steve knows, in that moment, this might be his only chance.

   “Scared of my feelings for you.”

Eddie kisses him and suddenly, everything does seem easy.

Kissing Eddie back is easy.

Leaning into his touch and holding him tight is easy.

Loving Eddie is easy.

Because it feels right.

It doesn’t matter what his parents will think of him if they know – this is right and it’s all he wants.

This is who he is underneath.

This is who he wants to be, openly and unafraid.

   “You don’t have to change, Stevie. You don't have to be anyone else. I love you just the way you are.”

And that, Steve realises, is more than enough.

[steveshairychest]

"Don't fall in love with me." Steve laughed in a self-deprecating way. His eyes were unfocused and glassy as he stared out at the darkness of lovers lake, his hands fiddled with the nearly empty beer he'd been sipping for the past hour.

Eddie furrowed his brow, mind a little slow from the alcohol as he leaned in closer to the other boy and said, "What if I already have?" They were sitting on the roof of Steve's car, their thighs pressed close and shoulders bumping as they simply just existed together. "It's a little hard for me not to do something I've already done."

Steve exhaled shakily and tipped his head up to the stars. His hands now gripped the glass bottle tightly. "You'll only get hurt. I have a reputation for being a pretty shitty boyfriend." He said it so softly, so weakly, that Eddie had to lean further into his space to hear.

Eddie scoffed once the words registered in his alcohol riddled mind. "That's bullshit." He didn't see Steve flinch. "I think I'd like to decide for myself whether or not you're a shit boyfriend." They've never explicitly talked about their feelings for one another, but it's been implied multiple times. For example, Eddie didn't think they made out as friends in the car before climbing out onto the hood.

He was thankful for the added confidence from the alcohol because he didn't think he'd have the bravery to be this straightforward about how he felt without it.

"Steve, go out with me. Be my boyfriend."

Steve blinked, looked him up and down, and laughed. "You're drunk. You don't want that."

Eddie shoved him lightly. "Fuck you. You don't know what I want. What I want is to call you my boyfriend. Hell, I'll even double that and propose to you right now! That's how serious I am!" He was so fucking scared. He didn't know how far this little game between them went. Was he crossing a line? He'd thought he'd read the signals right but the shock on Steve's face was telling him that maybe he didn't. Maybe he needed to start walking home right now.

"You're serious?" Steve whispered. "You actually want to date me?" Eddie wanted to strangle everyone that had made Steve hate and doubt his own self worth this much. He looked so vulnerable in that moment. His eyes were so wide, so bright under the stars, and his lips were parted ever so slightly in shock as he tried to find any sort of indication that Eddie was lying. He wasn't. He's never wanted anything more than this.

"I'm serious. I think I've wanted to date you since like 8th grade." They both laughed at that. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Steve's smile, it was a shy thing that he tried to hide with a sip from his beer.

When the laughter died down, Eddie twirled a piece of hair in front of his face and, without looking at Steve, said, "You can say no. I promise not to cry."

"You're a pretty crier, I wouldn't mind too much." He said it so nonchalantly, his eyes crinkled in a smile as he glanced over at a scared shitless Eddie. "Can I give you my answer tomorrow? I...need time to think when my head isn't all fuzzy with booze."

Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "Of course. I understand." They sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night, both of them caught up in their own heads as they watched the lake lap at the shore.

Eddie hoped the sun stayed away for a little longer. He wasn't ready for the morning light to wash away this moment, he wasn't ready for Steve's answer.

But he knew that no matter what Steve decided, he'd love Steve regardless.

Steve Harrington was so hard not to love.

[bakugoushotwife]

Bad Liar // katsuki bakugou

a/n: i got soooo carried away with this one lmfao no regrets though, i love bakubaby so bad and this is so self-ship coded no apologies :D this is probably my last piece before kinktober! i know i know boo hiss im sorry, im sorry, i'll probably still pepper in drabbles and headcanons just because :0

cw: suggestive, 16+ to read. bakugo is agressive as always, he has his own language lmao, possessiveness? friends to lovers, hiding it from the bakusquad!

wc: 2.9k

He can’t stand it. It was his stupid idea in the first place, but still, he finds himself knee deep in regret instead of ocean-water. And his friends make everything worse. Oh his stupid, stupid friends and their stupid gatherings and hang out sessions, just irritating him beyond belief. You weren’t included in this tirade, no. Never. You’ve never had a stupid idea in your life, other than agreeing to be his woman, he thinks now. 

Denki and Mina would want to go to the beach. That’s so perfectly, stupidly, them. It’s the hottest day of the year, and Katsuki is miserable in so many ways it’s almost comical. Certainly he would laugh if it was happening to anyone but him. He’s already prone to hyperhidrosis due to his quirk nature, and the weather certainly wasn’t helping the matter. He looks like he’s been greased in baby oil or something slimy straight out of the sea. You on the other hand, look—he can’t look. You’ve been friends since your first year at UA, or as close to friends as one really can get with the explosive blond. You seemed not to mind his bristly nature, even when he got a little loud, you never flinched away from him or went out of your way to push his buttons like everyone else. 

You were different. You invited him to read your favorite books and mangas with you, you introduced him to new video games and even offered to train together, something that anyone outside of Izuku ran away from. You were unafraid, he realized. He knows he makes it hard. He’s hateful and unforgiving, loud and brash. None of those are good qualities, he’s well aware, but you made him feel like they were. You laughed at his rude comments, only shaking your head or rolling your eyes playfully to disagree. When he got loud, you got louder, a tactic his mom first employed and something he hadn’t realized worked on him so well. No, you made those qualities feel endearing. It wasn’t long before he was inviting you to tag along with him too, teaching you how to make different dishes and even trying your hand at baking while he’s crouched over recipe books spouting the ingredients at you. He wants you to study with him, even if he hasn’t allowed anyone from the inner circle to join him willingly. He always invites you, and he never hides his casual requests for you to come back to his dorm for movies or the newest episode of your favorite anime. He’s completely smitten, clearly. 

To everyone, really. It was obvious, even to you. Katsuki is nothing if not prideful, so you were certainly not going to burst his bubble, or allow any of the bakusquad to do so either. You knew he would work through his emotions and thoughts on his own, and he would come to you when he’s ready. 

And yes, that took well into your adulthood. School was filled with tragedy after tragedy, you were happy to make it out of there with Katsuki, your friends, and your ability to become a hero still intact. The two of you worked for the same agency for the next couple of years straight out of high school, and that’s what helped him really understand just how different you are. You’re strong, the strongest woman he’s ever seen if he’s honest. Your abilities are insane, your motivation is inspiring, and your knowledge and instinct are only paralleled by his own. Perfect. You’re smart, beautiful, powerful, and so unique. He couldn’t stand it anymore, just watching from the sidelines as he tried to figure out why he was so enamored with you. 

Turns out, jealousy is one hell of a motivator. 

One day, when he was assigned a different route on patrol and you were sent off with a new male partner, it all made sense. He watched the guy put a hand on the small of your back, dangerously close to the elastic-wrapped mounds of your ass. His ass. He was fuming. The sidekick gave you an excited smile, championing himself lucky to be partnered with such a force–and beauty– as yourself. Katsuki saw it immediately, how the other sidekick was looking at you, it was painfully clear. He wasn’t worried, you would never give this extra your attention–hence how you throw the rando’s arm off of you and stomp away–what does piss him off though, is that other men cannot understand that you might as well walk around with his brand across your forehead. Was he not crystal clear? Even if he hadn’t known that you were unspeakably his, surely everyone else could tell? You two went everywhere together, never was one seen without the other, except for this fuckin’ dumbass  patrol–and he was scary enough no one should even think about you in that way. 

So he finishes his rounds as early as possible that day, making it back to HQ to meet up with you after your disdainfully different route. He’s pleased to see you alone, leaning up against a doorframe with your skin-tight hero suit still perfectly intact and clinging to your every curve. No drama, no danger, he smirks to himself in relief. The way you look back at him, though, that has his heart stopping in his chest. You look so at ease, your resting bitch face melting into a smile of succor. He can tell you’re just as relieved to see him, the way you jump from foot to foot in excitement tells him so. He can’t help but give you an arrogant half-smile, amused by and admiring your every move. The air is different, the space between the two of you spoke of something different than just friends. He throws his arm around your waist, and you can tell from the look on his face that he’s ready. His red siren gaze sparkles with a bit more intensity, his calloused fingers soothing circles into the curve of your side, even the smile playing at his lips says it all. You’re his now. He knows you know this, and you’re so good to him you won’t even make him say it, but it seemed that his little revelation was enough to change him in a way you didn’t suspect. 

“Yer my lady now.” He says, no trace of annoyance, only a slight upturn to the corners of his lips. 

“I know. Been your lady for a long ass time.” You chuckle, leaning your head over on his shoulder as you begin the walk home. You couldn’t wait to tell Mina–she would freak the fuck out that he finally made his move. Even more relieved would be poor Kirishima, the man on the receiving end of so many you-themed rants. Denki’s teasing may be endless–and Sero may be the only soul genuinely happy for everyone without making it a big deal. You know the last thing Katsuki wants is to make this a big deal. He was still working his way into emotional fluency, and you didn’t want them to stunt his progress–even though it was well intentioned. 

It’s like he can read your mind, or more aptly the subtle knit of your brows and purse of your lips. He knows your brain is hard at work thinking, so he steers you home, his house of course. The weather was decent, cold like he likes. He lets you think, focusing on the sound of your boots crunching in the snow. “What’s going on in that fat head’a yours?” 

You chuckle. “I was just thinking about how insufferable our friends are gonna be.” You say, icy fingers reaching for the solace you know awaits in his warm hands. He doesn’t fight you, cupping your hands in one of his. He furrows his brows, considering your sentence, yet his thumb still absentmindedly strokes your soft skin. He huffs after a time. 

“We ain’t gotta tell ‘em. They’ll figure it out eventually anyway–let’s just enjoy bein’ us. Press’ll be stupid too.” He sighs out, not having considered the issues you two may face now, status and all. How annoying. He squeezes on your hands to convey his love. 

You sigh. “God, so true. I didn’t think of that either.” You muse, smiling at the snowflakes collecting in Katsuki’s ashy hair and lashes while he stares at you. It can only ever be described as a stare, the intensity too much to be considered anything less. You slip your hands from his momentarily, and he frowns at the loss of you. He looks up and realizes you’re unlocking his door and sighing at the warmth that greets the two of you upon entering. Once the door swings shut, your hands find him again, though now you face him, and you dare to let your touch wander up his forearms and biceps before falling back down and reaching back up again. He enjoys the feeling, the soothing comfort of your strokes nearly causing him to sigh. He just hangs his arms around your waist instead, appreciating your beauty without fear now. 

“S’ppose we’ll keep this ‘er lil secret then.” He drawls, gently pulling your body until it stops against his. You can feel his warm caramel-scented breath waft over your face, the heat in his eyes causing your own to rush to your cheeks. He smirks at that, cherishing every moment he can fluster you since it’s so typically the other way around. 

You nod, unashamedly looking down at his lips. He doesn’t hide the sultry way in which he coats them, before letting them stretch into another, wider, predatory smirk. He forces your eyes back up to his with his two fingers under your chin. 

“Sound good?” He asks with an arched brow. You nod again. He chuckles, one so deep it reverberates through his buff chest. He’s entertained,  you’re absolutely falling apart just from standing so close to him now that all his feelings for you were confirmed. “Use your words and I’ll give ya a kiss.” 

You force yourself to swallow, and then clear your throat, feeling frozen in place. He looks at you like you were the only person he could see. He looks at you with such insatiable desire, you’re rendered speechless just from a few touches and his carmine eyes dancing over your body. “Yeah–our secret.” You manage. 

He nods his approval, sliding his hand to cup your cheek instead. His hand is so big his fingers reach over your jaw and into your soft, vanilla scented hair. He almost loses his confidence, your scent and the way you bat your eyelashes hitting him all at once. You always smell so sweet, even though you were actually spicy. He thought it fit you. You stand on your tiptoes to prompt him, your hands landing on his toned pecs. It brings him back to the present, and his heart actually flutters at what he was about to do. He swallows any nervousness and leans down, licking his lips a final time before he slots them over yours. You jolt him awake, the cool touch of your mouth sends warmth tingling through him, and you’re not doing much better. You feel like you’re melting as he pulls you closer desperately, unable to get enough of you. 

And maybe, just maybe, that night ended with him becoming very acquainted with that beautiful body you proudly display today, at the beach, with all his friends, who still don’t know that you’re together. 

That’s why he’s so impossibly frustrated, keeping his head turned and pretending to be entranced by the ocean waves. His friends are stupid, but they aren’t dumb. They’ve known for the longest that Katsuki’s head over heels for you, but upon your promise, they tried to give him less shit about it. 

But Denki just can’t hold back this time. To think that he can’t see Katuski’s “sunburn”, the noticeable way he’ll look anywhere but you, and his overly sensitive nerves today is an insult to Chargebolt. He scoffs loudly. 

“Hey Bakugou, you allergic to sexy?” 

The blond’s head snaps to him and his eyes narrow in confusion. “What?!”

Denki chuckles smoothly. “You won’t even look at Y/N–and she is definitely sexy. That bikini is working overtime–”

“Say one more word about her.” He dares, sparks collecting in the palms of his hands. At the crackling sound, Kirishima decides it’s time to intervene. He holds his arms out like someone approaching a wild horse to saddle. 

“Woah, woah–easy bro!” He chuckles nervously, but it gets Katsuki’s attention, at least enough that the threat of violence dies down. “I think what Denki’s trying to say is, normally you and Y/N are side-by-side. Is everything alright?” 

Great. There was no way to win. If he looked at you, he’d surely pop a raging boner and that would confirm everything they’ve ever thought about him and his thoughts about you, but not looking at you resulted in their suspicion anyway. He huffs through his nose and scowls. 

“Yeah? Just tryin’ not to be a perv like you two fuckers. Stop lookin’ at her–” 

“Right. Okay.” Sero rolls his eyes at the longtime friend. “You know none of us give a fuck if you guys want to get together, right? In fact, we’re literally praying for it so you stop being so goddamn intolerable.” 

“So you admit you have to fight looking?” Denki snickers. Katsuki eyes the two with the wrath of hell.

Kirishima gives him a defusing glare, sighing at his hot-tempered buddy. “I second Sero, but either way, we want you to have some fun, man. We know you can’t be having a good time sitting in the sand like this. Come play some volleyball with us!” He insists, dragging Katsuki to his feet. 

Bakugo wrenches his way free of him, but follows nonetheless, scowling even deeper when Mina calls out, “Three on three! I want Bakugou and Denki!” She giggles, leaving you to team up across from him with Kirishima and Sero. He convinces himself that beating your ass in volleyball should keep your friends off your scent.

All goes well, for a while. That is until the rotation puts him directly across from you. 

Denki was right. You are so sexy. And that bikini…how could you set him up like this? The fabric clings to your hips, disappearing into the folds of your dimpled and sand-covered ass. God, he shoulda never let you out of the house. His eyes finally move up toward your bust, almost laughably stuffed into your top. It’s so unfair. You’re ridiculously stunning, and he can’t help but think you did this on purpose. He can feel his blood rushing all at once, and he knows he must be staring hard. Before he can comprehend anything else, you’re running towards the net, beautiful body glistening in the sun, your sea-textured hair swaying in time with your chest as you jump and smack the ball right in his face. 

Kirishima can’t stifle his laugh, and Denki nearly collapses in laughter beside the explosive man. Mina just puts her hands on her hips, trying to hide her knowing smirk. 

Katsuki is prideful, arrogant, brash, unforgiving, loud, and hateful. You made sure to love and accept those qualities to an extent, and help him grow out of them in some others. One thing you’ll never be able to change is his competitive spirit–and you just took a cheap shot in his rulebook. 

“That was a low blow. It doesn’t count!” He groans, swiping some of the kicked up sand from his tanned abs. He goes to pick up the ball when Sero challenges. 

“How so? She just spiked it. That’s legal.” 

And to his dismay, you play right into it. “Yeah, why’s it a low blow, Suki?”

Goddamn you. Batting your lashes and all. You’re challenging him too, daring him to keep lying or to come clean to all his friends. He snorts at you, clearly you underestimate who you’re dealing with. He’ll fuck you on the beach if you wanna push buttons–but he decides he’ll take a more moderate approach only because he doesn’t want anyone else to see you naked. You can’t back him into a corner without doing the same to yourself, so he just juts his chin at you. 

“Because you wore that bikini just to piss me off ‘n make me tell our friends yer mine.” He growls, arching a brow and folding his arms over his chest. The friends in question are unusually quiet and deathly still, exchanging knowing and relieved looks.

You shrug, blushing a bit. He caught you, but it worked anyway. Only because he allowed it, but still. You hum your acknowledgement and motion for the ball back. 

“You got me, baby. That counts as a point though. Ball’s mine.” You wink, that smug grin of yours enough to make his heart pound like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. You’re most definitely somethin’ else, but he loves you to pieces, and he feels a lot better about being able to be just as pervy out loud as he wants to be. 

He slings the ball back over the net, mirroring your smirk. Once again, he’ll never let you best him. His eyes shine with mischief as he winks and says for your embarrassment, “Oh yer still goin’ down, sugartits.” 

[cozymoko]

hello:)) could you maybe do a yandere kaname kuran with another pure blood girl? the girl could be a pretty inexperienced vampire, maybe she was kept as a human for safety kinda like yuki.. change around as you like!! thank you☺️☺️

if possible maybe even a little spicy 😏😏

YANDERE! KANAME W/ A PUREBLOOD READER — 🩸

Pairing: Yandere! Kaname Kuran x new pureblood! reader

Note: Yesss, ofc!

Format: Headcanons; 2nd person

WARNING(S): yandere themes, slightly suggestive (bad)

THE COLLAPSE OF many pureblood families had unfortunately not been uncommon. Yours, my dear, happened to be the unfortunate choice. And with their destruction went your title. You had been forced to live as a human, without a memory to your name. All for the sake of your being, a new bloodline. It felt surreal, like a dream. A dream you had no choice but to come to terms with.

Luckily (or not) for you, a certain Kuran was determined to revive your former self. The real one he had come to adore. Hah, it's safe to say you have a very extensive past with each other.

Though he admits, your parents did quite an extraordinary job at hiding your whereabouts. Not even your average pure blood was guaranteed success in their searches for you. However, Kaname is no ordinary pure blood; oh heavens no! He is the Kaname Kuran, a rather selfish and greedy man when it comes to those he holds dear to him.

You happen to be one of the few. How lovely~!

Kaname reaches out and cups your cheeks in his palms. He savored the warmth of your skin, for it was the last time he would feel it. The gentle flushing of your cheeks had gnawed away at his last ounce of composure. Truthfully, it wasn't in his best interest to ravish you, though it was tempting. It would simply have to wait.

He almost felt guilty for snatching it all away from you. The subtle beauty of being a human, living your life as anything bus immortal, passing on with those you held close. Ahem — almost.

“[Name],” The man cooed. “Do you trust me?” You blinked, resisting the urge to squirm under his watchful gaze. He was a patient man, though not when it came to you.

Even having you beneath him for hours on end had not been enough to quench his thirst. Even now, he awaited your answer like a loyal dog, itching for your affections.

“Y...yes.”

Your hesitancy didn't go unnoticed, not that it mattered anyways. Your skin went soft against the chill of his lips, it was definitely something you had to get used to. Kaname slowly nipped at your skin, lavishing it in wet, hot kisses.

He held your hand tight in one hand, fingers interlocked into one; whilst the other tucked loose strands from your sight. Gently stripping you of the silks that concealed your skin, allowing your blood to bleed through its sheer fabric.

“Let me know if it hurts, [Name].”

HE WAS QUICK to wed you after your transformation.

However, he’ll keep it a secret if you happen to attend the academy. There's no doubt that you’ll be transferred to the night class to live alongside him and the others. Though he tries so hard to hide it, he’s a possessive man at heart. Kaname in no way views you as an object, and yet he wishes to own your entire being.

Under no circumstances will you take blood from another man - or anyone for that matter. If you do, he’s quick to wipe them from your sight. You should never have to rely on someone who isn't him. Just the thought drives him insane.

Isolated and subjected to hours of needles, torturous thoughts of the world around you. The world you had once embraced in your mortal body. It's a shame what love does to a person. It's laughable, truly. You just happened to be one of the lucky ones to get to finally understand what hell feels like...

Im intrigued; wont you tell me a little, dear~?

Soft tears spilled from your puffy eyes for what seemed to be endless. They were warm, something your skin no longer was. You had tried not to let your sorrows consume you, but today, they’d bested you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you peer out one of the many windows that stretched along the Kuran manor. Well, your manor. And yet it provided you little comfort. “What’s bothering you so much, dear?”

Instinctively, you reach out, allowing the man to scoop you into his lean arms. You were a fool, your mother would scold you. How could you ever allow a Kuran to woo you so; to take away the mortal life you were gifted? But you couldn’t help it, he was all you had. Kaname was the only one who kept you warm at night.

Kaname was the only reminder of your old life.

Kaname was the only one you could trust.

Kaname —

“I’m sorry…” Kaname murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. “I truly am {Name}. Please, dry your tears.”

Sorry? Yes, that he was. Although not for the reasons you’re thinking dearest. He’s a Kuran after all; the man is bound to be selfish! Kaname is so, oh so very sorry. He hates seeing you cry…but, he hates the thought of losing you much more.

[circeyoru]

The Cat On His Shoulders = Requested

[Alastor x Demonic Cat!Reader]

The Request

There were rumours that The Radio Demon fancies cat above all other creatures, even his own kind, that being deers, because of the black cat with red eyes that would always be around him no matter the situation. Be it a stroll through town, lunch at Cannibal Town, an Overlord meeting, a murder spree, and even to the tailor. There was always that black cat around him

Some demons thought it was Alastor’s soft spot, a weakness to exploit. The fools. You made your appearance and put those demons in their place. Turns out it was a demonic cat, one of the hellborns of Hell with the ability to shapeshift from animal to humanoid form. Your ability was even more unique, weak on your own but once paired with a sinner, you gain power and in turn boost your paired sinner’s abilities as well

Your meeting was funny to say the least. Alastor found your wounded cat form fighting for life and took you back with him to nurse you back to health, thinking you would make a good pet to pass the time. His mother and him have had a fondness for cats before and now that Alastor had the time, why not take care of one?

The moment the two of you stared at each other when you were in your humanoid form was mere silence. You immediately tried to flee since you were practically stealing from an Overlord, but Alastor was faster and got a hold of you with his shadows

“I’m sorry for hiding my identity from you, Sir Radio Demon.” You bowed your head in apology, your cat ears pinned to your head while your tail drooped lifeless. You had been acting as a cat would to avoid suspicion on you. You actually liked that Alastor was taking care of you and though treating you like a pet, he was kind. Kinder than other sinners that would take advantage of you

Alastor was quick to brush you off, nearly kicking you out the door if you were to be caught earlier on. But the two of you had spent time together for quite some time that affection was built up. You offered your ‘pairing’ ability to him. Explaining that while it was similar to a contract, it was exactly ownership of another, though others of your kind were treated as such

“My dear, how do you know I won’t treat you the same? Treat you like a slave and have you locked in a cage just to do your role as a power-up item?” Alastor’s aura darkened to seem threatening to you

“Because you were kind to me. I earn it for lying to you for so long…” Your answer was what led him to agree with your proposal, that and the fact that you weren’t lying about your ability. Just with you around, without the pairing, you boosted his powers as he did his battles while you watched from the sidelines. He noticed and kept you around most of the time. With a pairing, he’d be even more of a threat

In the beginning, you were treated as you were, albeit with the difference of your humanoid self roaming around his home. You knew his ‘thing’ with touches, so you’d avoid any direct contact with him. He was more comfortable with your cat form, but soon grew to like your humanoid form as well

Alastor loves rubbing your ears and patting your head. In turn, he actually lets you play with his ears and hair, only in private! To protect you better and make sure no one can just snatch you away, you’re in cat form and always on Alastor’s shoulders or in his arms. He loves your involuntary purring as well when you unconsciously nuzzle closer to him

You’re this close to him in public because if you die, your paired sinner would have their powers and abilities cut down to a mere 30%. While you can boost their powers at least 2 times depending on your closest and energy, you can cause just as much harm. The pairing thing is a double-edged sword

A skill the two of you found out about you was your ability to permit travels to other rings, only to your paired sinner. You once opened a portal to return to your home ring, Sloth, for a moment but then Alastor accidentally tripped and sent the two of you through the portal and both of you ended up in Sloth

It was a pleasant surprise, but Alastor couldn’t exactly do much else risk attaching too much attention to your abilities. While it was known that some abilities and powers manifest after pairing for your kind, never had you heard of this one. No wonder your friends were this wanted

You actually were there when Alastor and Husk made their bets. A mistake was Husk including you in the deal as well. With Alastor’s signal, you activated your ability to boost the odds in Alastor’s favour, Alastor needed luck and skill, you’ll give all that he needs

While you didn’t hold a grudge against Husk for including you in the deal, Alastor sure did. You watched from the sidelines how far Alastor bullied Husk into submission. You even told Alastor it was fine since you were used to it. His response was, “My darling, as long as you’re by my side, I will never let you be treated as a mere object to be used.”

You were already loyal before, but now you can say you fancy him. No surprise that Husk realized he actually had no chance against Alastor when you were near him. There were times when Husk tried to use you to threaten Alastor to break the deal, but you were no push-over, just because Alastor always protected you doesn’t mean you’re defenseless

There were times when Alastor was more protective and possessive of you, practically when you attracted other demons and sinners’ attention while being in humanoid form. He’d have his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him or have his arm linked with yours. At first you’d have trouble walking from the closeness. But you knew Alastor was just being careful

Don’t ask why, but you never saw it coming when Alastor asked for you to be his. Not the pairing or the soul contracts. But as in a romantic relationship. You nearly fainted but managed a soft ‘yes’

Nothing much changed from his nicknames for you would go from ‘dear’ to ‘dearest’, ‘sweetheart’ to ‘sweetie’, and the most fatal one was ‘My love’, that would left you shifting back to your cat form to hide from pure embarrassment and shyness

You humanoid form was more of a special sight for him now since you’d take that form when you were behind closed doors with him. Alastor loves hugging you from behind, “My love, you look ravishing as usual. Will you accompany to the bed?”

You’d giggle back, knowing that he’d have you lay your head on his lap while he reads whatever he fancies aloud, indirectly lulling you to sleep. “You’re clingier today.”

“Only for you.”

Note: Haha, it's one of the older asks. You can probably tell I write and post whatever I have inspiration on

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

[mayaree-darling]

YANDERE FATUI/HARBINGER SCARA>>>>>>>

The way he would kill anyone who would even look at you, if their someone in the fatui or Harbingers he will try and make their life hell (and he would succeed) wether you know his actions or not

Perhaps it’s fear, admiration, love, it doesn’t matter it’s the way you look at him the way he knows your calling to him, your his

I LOVE THE WHOLE HARBINGER, AND YANDERE AESTHETIC FOR SCARA

From aree: hard agree with you, anon. Harbinger Scara as a Yandere just hits all the right boxes. Hope you don't mind me writing a short lil bit right here. I sort of hyperfixated on the staring thing.

tw for implied human experimentation and slight body horror

always watching// yandere!scaramouche

Scaramouche seems to get lost in his own thoughts a lot, staring off into the distance.

The Fatui grunts know better than to approach him when he's stuck in his own head. None of them can exactly tell whether he's simply bored at the moment or he's planning another murder that would change the course of history, but either way, getting close while he's thinking does not bode anyone well.

Currently, they've taken to noticing that his eyes always seem to find their way to you when he's deep in thought. His eyes are a burning glare, almost willing with focus alone for your very body to combust into a flurry of flames on the spot.

But of course, you stay safely intact, Scaramouche is left to stew in his self-imposed hatred for you and anyone bearing witness to all this tries their best to steer clear of the angered Harbinger whilst wondering what you did to earn such negative emotions. However, there are those who notice that his anger is not exactly aimed at you, but more so what you're doing.

Because once your attention is on Scaramouche, it's as if all the anger fizzles out - his face could be carefully blank or a smirk or a cruel laugh. The anger only comes back full force when you're looking away. Some of the grunts have taken to wondering: is he pretending to be cordial with you, while sending you hateful looks when your back is turned? He must hate you, right? But that didn't make sense, Scaramouche didn't even bother to hide his disdain for the other Harbingers, so why make the effort for you?

Why is he glaring at you like that?

Scaramouche hates it when your attention is on someone else. Thankfully, none have made the connection. But even if they did, they'd sooner use the knowledge to their advantage before saying it to his face. So for now, as far as he knows, you and the Fatui are none the wiser.

He hates it. Why? Just why? Surely, you can tell he wants to keep talking to you, even when he spits insult after insult, telling you your very presence was annoying, how you keep wasting his time with small talk when you can just get to the point. But you don't. There's a limit to how much of his disdain you can take, and when you walk away from him to continue your other duties, only then does he realize he has spread too much of himself to leave some room for you. But it's too late. And he does it again and again. You'll come back to him again, he'll insult you again, and you'll leave… again.

If there's anything he's thankful for it's that you still keep coming back, so surely, you feel an ounce of whatever he feels for you as well? Why else would you come back to him only to be ridiculed to hell and back? Yes, surely you love him. Even if it's just a fraction, it's a fragment Scaramouche is willing to guard with his life until he can take more of it.

So when he notices that some people have started occupying your time more and more, well, he's not thrilled, at the very least.

He thought he made peace with that fact a long time ago. Of course you need to talk to other people. Humans are social creatures that thrive off of the interactions they make day by day. It was annoying, but he could let it go. Until he realized the more time you spent with them, the less he got with you.

The realization kicked in when he approached you while you were talking to a Fatui skirmisher. You nod at him and he opens his mouth to say something before you immediately turn back to continue your previous conversation. He gapes for a second, for the first time caught off-guard by your actions, before he's gritting his teeth and snapping at you. The Fatui skirmisher makes an escape for it the moment they find an opening - Scaramouche will be sure to give them a fitting punishment later - before he turns to you and all the fire is put out once more. Your expression is confused and he'd be lying if he said the small fear he sees in your eyes makes him uneasy.

He staves off from seeing you for a while as he cools his head, but that idea backfired hard when he all but ran around Zapolyarny Palace looking for you. When you greet him again, like nothing was ever wrong, Scaramouche makes a promise to himself. It's not like you were the problem. He sees the way you smile at others and he's sure against all doubt that it's emptier compared to when you talk to him. It's everyone else. Everyone else was the problem.

Besides, it's not like he can stop you from whatever you were doing. If he did, you'd start acting differently toward him, too. Your smile would drop whenever he was in the area. You'd wear simpler clothes when you were with him. You'd lose your voice whenever he was in your line of sight. So no, making you stop was not part of the solution.

He just had to make everyone else stop.

Scaramouche thinks they are underestimating how he watches. He has his eyes on you, yes, but that doesn't mean he is no longer aware to what happens around the two of you. He's not all that concerned, however, not anymore. Years of patience has taught him well how to deal with humans. He is well prepared for small little hiccups such as this. He won't hurt them, oh no, not yet. The Fatui needs as many of its people in tip top shape as much as possible, so he can't lay a hand on them.

All is fair outside the organization, however.

Whoever has found themselves under his watchful gaze will discover a lovely little package waiting back home for them. Inside, they will find two perfectly preserved eye balls bobbling up and down in a glass case of unidentified liquid. Scaramouche thinks its a fun game for the offender - how long will it take for them to find out which loved one the eyes belong to? (He should thank the Doctor for extracting the eyes from the host so flawlessly. He just hopes the mad man kept his promise and returned the person where they were last found, and not confined them into another experiment table. Then again, he couldn't care less what comes after. He wipes his hands clean from that.)

It's a threat and a warning all rolled into one gift, tied together tightly with a bow not unlike Scaramouche's love for you. The message is clear.

Keep your eyes to yourself.

Pretty soon, almost any and every grunt notices Scaramouche's eyes on you. But in the rare chance that the anger is not there, and there is only you, his eyes seem to say only one thing.

Look at me.

 ＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

🌙 Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[6lostgirl6]

Yandere Alphabet - Stu Macher

TW: Toxic relationship, stalking, mentions of suicide (not detailed), mentions of murder, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior

A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Stu is very affectionate towards his darling and is not afraid to show it. It can be pretty intense, but it's only because he can't contain it all inside or he will explode.

Have you seen how he was with Tatum in the movie? It would be exactly that and more.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Stu is not afraid to get messy for his darling. Does that mean he needs to kill a few people? That doesn't matter to him, he's only showing that he can protect you and it's simply an act of love from him!

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Between Billy and Stu, Stu would treat you the same as he would before kidnapping you as his goofy self. He would still make jokes and silly actions if it means getting you to smile. If he mocks you, it's only because he's being playful. If you were genuinely upset and crying for him to let you go, he would try to comfort you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Besides you simply spending time with him? No, Stu wouldn't really make you do anything you didn't want to do. He might be a little pushy, but he would eventually back off if it starts bothering you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

In comparison to Billy, he is very open about himself and his feelings for you. Sure, before he abducted you, he had to hide his yandere tendencies. However, now that you were finally home with him, he wouldnt hold back anything from you. He can be very vulnerable, if something is bothering you, he would tell you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would honestly feel very hurt if you tried fighting back. I believe that Stu would be a little bit of a delusional yandere. Of course you wanted him to take you away and keep you to himself? You just didn't know it yet.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

He finds it very entertaining to watch you try to escape him, especially when he first kidnapped you. Seeing you run and cry out in fear, fight back when he finally pinned you down and your failed attempts at escaping your new home. After you've settled in though, he would expect you to simply follow rules and obey him.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Again, it was your kidnapping. Seeing your friend's lifeless eyes staring into your own and your boyfriend standing over them. Blood staining his clothes, you could see the smile slip and quickly chase after you. After the reveal that he was the one that killed off your friends was shocking and you cried from being foolish enough to trust him. He might even have Billy help him with kidnapping you as well and Billy would not be gentle.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to grow old with you! He genuinely believes that you are his soulmate! Marriage, maybe a few children, he wants that with you. He wouldn't have it any other way, as long as you comply.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Stu can become very jealous. However, he doesn't lash out, he would probably sulk about it for a while. As ghostface, simply killing his rivals is his new coping mechanism.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's very playful with his darling, constant jokes and harmless teasing. He's not afraid to show his affection in public and doing random displays of affection like randomly dipping you or twirling you. He'll randomly pull you in kisses that leave you completely flushed.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Stu would stalk you, but he makes it pretty obvious. However, you might see it as something innocent like a boy having a crush and he simply doesn't know how to act. Yet, you don't realize that he's been stalking you as you walk home and putting anonymous love letters in your locker. That's when he lets some of his deeper desires come forth.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not at all. You wouldn't even know there was something different about him. However, his mask will slip a little, eyes holding something a little more sinister. We've seen how in the movies he can go from laughing and smiling to become the complete opposite.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He doesn't give out severe punishments. It honestly depends on what you do. However, he'll take away rights when you break his rules. You managed to get outside without him, your banned from your daily walks with him. You tried contacting someone online, you're not allowed on the computer, etc.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Stu would take some rights. For example, you weren't allowed to be around sharp objects, so you wouldn't harm yourself! You would never intentionally harm him! He wouldn't allow you to walk outside without him and limited access on the internet. And phones are off-limits. He's very watchful.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

For you, Stu is very patient. When you were first brought home, he gave you space while you adjusted to your new living situation and gave you a few rules that wouldn't overwhelm you. After a week, his patience will slip a little but always remind himself that you simply need time.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Stu would try his absolute hardest to find you and bring you home if you managed to escape. However, if he was unable to find you or God forbid you died, he would not be able to move on. He wouldn't even be able to continue existing. He can't live in a world where he doesn't have you. He would kill himself.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

At times, he has moments where he starts to think that maybe you were right. He doesn't regret killing your friends, in fact it thrilled him, yet he will start to think maybe he shouldn't have kidnapped you. However, those thoughts are quick to leave him. Stu is very trusting, if you simply follow his rules and obey him, he wouldnt mind taking you out for a walk. His property is very spacious, so he would allow you to go outside with him. No, he wouldn't let you go though.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I headcanon that Stu is a bit of a delusional yandere. Therefore, he doesn't see things as they naturally are and his obsession thay overcomes him when meeting you just ignites something in him that was dormant.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He would feel heartbroken and even a little guilty. He brought you home because he wanted to love, protect, and make you happy with him. Yet, it seems to only cause you pain. He'll talk to you about it, let you express your feelings through sobs. He would listen, but he wouldn't understand. He'll try his best to comfort you though.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Stu doesn't give out severe punishments like most yanderes. He would never starve you or deny you basic needs, he cares about you too much. You're his obsession.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Stu is actually pretty sensitive. Simply saying things about how you hate him and don't want to be around him would make him distance himself from you and sulk. He doesn't like people seeing how emotional he actually is and that would allow you some time to think of an escape plan but he knows. He always knows.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Oh, never! Stu values your safety and happiness, he couldn't handle it if he accidentally hurt you. The worst he's done was get you a little bruised when he pinned you down when you were first kidnapped.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Oh he is very expressive in his worshiping for you, he's equivalent to a lost puppy. He loves following you around and talking to you, you always make his day. He would literally kill for you if it meant winning you over. He would try anything.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Stu would pine after you just as long as Billy, perhaps even shorter. If you're not dating him by the six month mark, he's going to kidnap you. He's simply speeding up the process.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes, he would. Not through threats and violent outbursts, but through his personality. You'll eventually start to believe that what he did was normal because he's just a lovable person.

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @rottent33th @slaasherslut @strrvnge

[mooodyblue]

Could you write something about caregiver Elvis and his self-conscious little?

Like when it's time for their bottle they refuse to drink, and they stop sitting on his lap and start to play quietly by themselves instead of playing energetically with Elvis or Jerry because they think that they have gained weight.

thank you for the request ^^

pairing: cg!elvis x gn!little!reader

wc: 855

warnings: body image issues

➸ masterlist

there was a saying that you gain weight when you're in a happy relationship. you tried to make that not the case for your current relationship, despite your love for elvis.

elvis noticed how hesitant you were about being little today. he just wasn't sure why. it was always the two of you playing, him bouncing you on his lap and sometimes picking you up to twirl you around in the sparkly new dress or outfit that you bought. but not today. something felt off.

no pretty clothes, none of the clothes you wore that made you feel little….not even a bottle. you were wrapped up in a blanket, staring at the tv blankly. he wandered into the living room, looking over at you, “baby,” he cooed, “you want your bottle?”

“no.” you muttered back.

what? no bottle? “a-are ya sure, honey?” he asked curiously. it was so unlike you to not want a bottle, you always wanted milk or a sippy cup full of apple juice. “how ‘bout a snack?”

“no.” you said again.

“well, sheesh darlin’, at least have some manners n’ say no, thank you.” he put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow. “what’s got ya all grouchy today?” he walked over to you, sitting on the sofa.

“‘m fine.” you kept your eyes glued to the tv, only speaking in short sentences.

he shook his head and picked you up gently to set you on his lap, a soft whine escaping your lips. this was the problem. elvis grunted when he picked you up, he used to never grunt. the only reasoning in your brain was that you’d gained a bit of weight. you wanted to climb off his lap, hide yourself away, but you knew he’d just get mad. “ah, i know what ya need. a nice nap, huh?” he suggested, grinning.

you couldn’t say no to a nap. except that nap only made you feel worse.

elvis did his best to cheer you up. eventually, you were in your own other world, on the floor playing with blocks as you proudly spelled out words that he said to you. it was a good distraction from the vile thoughts inside your brain.

he got down on the floor beside you, pulling you into his lap as he began to help you stack letters together. you let a tiny whine out, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “you got ants in your pants?” elvis teased. you escaped from his hold, crawling away and moving to play with something else by yourself.

“alright…” he sighed, crawling over to you and sitting beside you. “what’s gotten into you today, baby? what’s the matter, huh?” he rubbed his hand in circles on your back gently.

you shook your head, hiding away from him.

“honey…” he frowned.

the look on elvis’s face was enough to make you cave in. “‘m not little enough.” you muttered, picking at the plush carpet underneath you.

he turned to you confused, “not lil’ enough?” he repeated back. “what do you mean? you’re my baby, aren’t ya? my little one?”

“‘too….big.” you didn't look at him, keeping your head down.

“big?” he repeated, confused.

“fat.”

elvis widened his eyes, “woah! now, hold on.” he tilted your face up with his fingers underneath your chin, forcing you to look at him. “where the hell did that come from? we don't use those words in that way in this house.” he said sternly.

“y-you make noises when y-you pick me up ‘n you're always like…’oh you've had enough’ when ‘m havin’ a bottle o-or a snack and—”

“baby…baby, my god” he quickly interrupted, putting his hands on your cheeks. “don't go talkin' like that. it hurts my feelings.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, taking your hands in his. “you know why i tell ya when you've had enough? cause if i don't—you’ll go ‘n eat or drink too much ‘n get yourself an upset tummy. then you'll be cryin' ‘bout how icky you feel, we don't want that, do we?”

“w-well…no….”

he interrupted you again, “and baby, i’m an old man. my body ain't what it used to be. them nosies i’m makin’ when i pick you up or sit you in my lap? they're old man noises, honey.” he chuckled. “give your old man a break.”

“daddy’s not old….” you pouted.

elvis let out a small laugh, “well, thank you. but i’m serious, baby. i love you. i don't care how much ya weigh and it ain't none of my business. you're beautiful, lil’ one. i love all of ya.”

you hated when you let your insecurities get to you when you were little, especially when it was when you felt the safest. but elvis’s sweet words and reminders made you feel a little better. you gave him a small smile, nodding. “i love you too, daddy. ‘m sorry.”

“can daddy hold ya in his lap again? we gotta finish this lil’ tower you got goin’ on here.” he ushered you over, lifting you up and setting you in his lap—now without the grunts.

[manyminded]

agere hermit!tommy (+ some reg hermit!tommy) headcanons!

I wanted to do just agere but I couldn’t help but set up Tommy’s character a little more…oops! headcanons under the cut

Season: 10 (timelines? I’ve never heard of her) When did Tommy leave dsmp?: After his revival Is Tommy a hybrid?: yes, moth :] Who’s a little & who’s a CG?: little!tommy, cg!hermits

like most h!tommy fics, tommy ended up in hc by accident. the hermits themselves weren’t really worried - it’s 27 to one, after all. but tommy was. He put up an impeccable fight despite having no gear + numbers disadvantage anyways.

eventually it smoothens out and he becomes a “temporary guest” on the server “until they can figure out what to do with him” (sure. sure)

he builds his base out of cobblestone right on the world border. it’s a castle. cobble, because it’s his favorite block, and on the world border for two reasons - he’s a little insecure, on this server of grand building feats - and to stay hidden. he’s still wary. it’s instinctive.

the builders LOVE his base!! btw!! sure it’s crude and not that refined but no matter how hard tommy tries to conceal his pride/passion, they can tell. they try to subtly come over, give him resources/pointers/encouragement, etc etc. tommy doesn’t trust it (he does appreciate it, secretly. he won’t admit that to anyone [let alone himself] however)

Henry and Shroud have revived themselves. They have the same thing as Jellie goin’ on. They’re Tommy’s support animals <3 he doesn’t know know that it’s them, at least not consciously, but he named them after the old buddies.

now for agere time! mwehehe

Tommy’s been going “small” for a while now. Probably since pogtopia? he doesn’t have the words for it, never really did, but it’s been happening. he knows he’s not supposed to, but he can’t stop himself. (involuntary agere baybe!!!) He has a lot of unhealthy ideas around it - thinking it’s bad, mainly. a weakness.

he tries to hide it from the hermits. only doing it in the privacy of his own base, clutching a worn blanket in stubby and calloused fingers. he wanders aimlessly, babbling nonsense to himself. he hides whenever people find him during these moments. (Henry & Shroud try and protect him during these times.)

the first to find him is Bdubs. He came over to give some materials, and found a Tommy that is remarkably not-Tommy-ish. He catches on quickly.

Do the hermits have the words for it, either? Probably not, no. But that doesn’t matter. They’ve been across many servers, thousands of worlds, seen all the whims of the universe. They’re no stranger to this, even if they don’t know the terminology.

Tommy is mistrustful about this. He’s hesitant about showing this side of himself. He’s weak in this state - easy to take advantage of.

But this is Hermitcraft. They wouldn’t do that! Even if Tommy hasn’t internalized that, it’s true.

Tommy’s little self kind of has the inverse character development that his big one does. When he first finds himself in HC, he’s loud and reckless as a coping mechanism. Does he ever entirely mellow out? Not really. But the calmness does whisper in the waves around him. On the other hand - when he’s little, at first, he’s shy and quiet. Downcast. But as he gets more comfortable around the hermits he gets louder, braver, outgoing, and very silly.

Some of his favorite activities with the hermits: hiking (he gets to go in the MUD!! and play with BUGS!! and WORMS!!), building, making food, putting on puppet shows/plays, and in general just having fun! (most of these he’s just watching them do stuff. but, like, you get it.)

Stuffed Animal OBSESSION. he didn’t really have any in dsmp, but now that he has the space to express himself, he’s having SO MUCH FUN. multiple rooms in his castle are dedicated to his collection. The hermits love indulging him.

thinks redstone looks so so cool, REFUSES to learn how it works. like woaw prebby. you’re explaining 2 me what it does? hell to you! hell for one thousand years!!

has a pallet for warm foods, especially when small. angel milk, oatmeal, baked goods, you know. the one exception is ice cream (yummy!) and maybe candy

wasn’t very touchy at first, but now that he’s more comfortable, EVERY TIME he’s around a hermit he’s glommed onto them. It can be subtle, like hand holding, but more than not he’s koala-ed onto them. He’s defined them as “safe” in his head, so now that he’s around them more, the closer he is to them the safer he is.

very talkative. not usually words? Just random babbling. It’s how the hermits find him small most of the time - he’ll send random sounds into the server chat. Like “bla ba ba?” or “meep mrrp. grgrbr. pffff bla bla!!! keee!!!” and people are like. oh he’s baby let me fawn over him. he’s constantly blabbering. and like yeah the chat is just text but you can babble over text.

bedtime is HARD. he HATES IT and gets VERY FUSSY. it has to be SPECIFIC and WARM and NICE and PRETTY or he will NOT close his eyes!!! every hermit has a different way of handling this. and if the specific hermit does it different than the normal way they specifically do it it’s an AFFRONT TO GOD!!!

love love LOVES soft things. stuffed animals? yes. but also blankets, pillows, clothing, and secretly… fur. any hybrid hermits who have some are amazing because of this. He’ll fawn over them for hours, just petting them over & over.

loves the stars/nighttime. will stargaze for hours. it puts him into a trance, basically. probably because of the moth thing but like you know the stars are pretty !!!

that’s all I have for now. I hope you enjoyed :] I wanted a better concluding hc but I couldn’t think of one </3

P.S. if anyone wants to add their own ideas please do so. Might do a pt 2 w specific hermits or w the rest of the bench trio if enough people like this

[angelstate]

“Understood and Seen”

Miserable!Ghost x Miserable!Reader

Loneliness was something he was used to, the weight of years of social isolation had managed to tame him enough that seeking a lover seemed to be an action he rather not do, he appreciated too much the quietness at night, the ability to walk away from somewhere and not be missed, not having to worry about leaving someone behind if he were to die in the battlefield.

it brought a sense of peace in a way, a sadistic and destructive one in the long run, destined to forever be desolated, to perish with no one holding his hand as he takes his last breath. It was a miserable ending, as Johnny made him see.

Then you came along, pretty smile and the touch of a pristine and unblemished angel, unaware of the torture that could be being a human, like you were created for the sole purpose of bringing peace to the disturbed people roaming the earth like himself.

it would’ve been stupid to let you go, to not let his claws sink into your skin, no matter how much he wanted to leave you untouched and well like when he first met you. What’s another sin under his name? if he is destined to burn in hell for having touch you, then he would endure infinite torture just for the opportunity to hold your hand.

It was cruel truly, the way you could never seem to stop gifting feathers from your wings till you couldn’t fly away from the greedy hands of miserable people, trying to snatch your bones and limbs to suffice themselves.

he felt bad at times, your struggle was visible even when you tried to hide it behind kind smiles, gentle touches and soft hearted worry. giving and being stolen from while thanking those who took, comforting them if they felt awful about grabbing more than they needed.

Sometimes kindness took opportunities away from you more than it gave them, you were a clear example that sometimes being a good person gets you nowhere, he should know, his family was killed when he chose to be good.

quietness didn’t suit you, that’s what simon believed after knowing you for almost two years. The beaming energy is always present even when you are just sitting on a chair with a book in your hands. A sort of joy was always there, a faint hum always leaving your lips, like you couldn’t stand the quietness in any way.

therefore, the sight in front of him is weird to say the least, you were sitting in your usual chair, no book in hand, eyes opened as you stared out the window, there was no one outside, the heavy rain had stopped the ability of trainees and other soldiers to go outside and do their normal schedules.

so what were you looking at? he couldn’t exactly tell, maybe the rain? but then again, you weren’t one to get hung up on sad aspects of life, the way rains interrupts the flow of your life, takes away opportunities of doing things out in nature because risking your health is something you rather not do, knowing you were too needed to compromise something so important for your own enjoyment, you can “fill your enrichment time doing other things after all” or that’s what you always told him.

you closed the doors that opened for you every time you could, not taking opportunities if it meant you couldn’t give one to another person, being selfless is a step away from being self destructive, Simon believed you had already walked past the distance though.

far too gone for your own good, but what can he do, when he is the type to walk away every time life asks for more than he’s willing to give, and you are only able to walk impossibly closer to give more than life asks you to hand over.

He's too different to understand you, it’s futile to try and adopt your perspective. He doesn’t spend time doing rotten work, not even for himself, although he allows himself to sympathize with you.

“enjoying the rain?” he asks suddenly, breaking you out of your chain of thoughts.with a harsh soop, sometimes you wished he wasn’t so good at gathering your attention.

you hummed in confirmation at his words, eyes briefly looking towards him, gaze with a dimmed glee in it. something was missing, he could sense it in his every bone, every fiber of his being buzzed as a signal there was a thing out of place, interrupting the usual peace and joy that circulated all around you.

“reminds me of home” you muttered softly, and if it wasn’t for the otherwise quiet and empty room he wouldn’t have been able to hear you. your words ring loudly on his ears and he doesn’t know what to do, for what feels like an eternity of desolation.

home is a word that he doesn’t hear often, people tend to avoid the word like it’s a curse when he’s around, pretending that the existence of a place to go after work is nonexistent. He is grateful sometimes for the quietness in regards to the topic of belonging somewhere but it’s also disheartening.

your answer doesn’t taste bitter in his mouth, it is rather sour and sweet. a complex mix of feelings he is used to experience but still finds overwhelming all the same as the first time he felt them. even without meaning to, you’re able to carve a way into his heart.

it’s like you’re threatening to prove to him that there’s more to life than what he has experienced so far, it terrifies him in a way he would never indulge or admit out loud.

“homesick?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, it wasn’t something unusual for soldiers to experience, even he, with nowhere to go back to, sometimes also felt homesick, the idea of a home most of all but it still counted in his book.

“something like that…rain just made it a bit more painful” you responded to his question, tone so somber that he could feel some of the sadness seep into his skin. today you didn’t feel like being chirpy and he couldn’t really blame you.

you took a deep breath, eyes looking towards him and away from the window, like your mind had finally processed you were talking to someone and not solely focused on pleasing them. Simon watched as you twisted in your seat to face him, a smile on your lips he knew was just part of your routine rather than a sign of your actual feelings.

Everyone gets through life in a different way, he could only imagine how exhausting it must be to try and make everything positive when you’re clearly struggling to float in an ocean of emotions that most people chose to just sink to the bottom and drown.

“sorry..i shouldn’t be gloomy, rain is amazing for the plants” you said apologetically, a red tint in your cheeks he knew was because of embarrassment.

you felt stupid being upset about something so simple, the rain and a home was something a lot of people didn’t have in their lives and yet you believed you had the right to be sad about something that should be appreciated.

even without meaning to, you were selfish. selfish…God, what would your mother think about the way you were behaving if she was here right now?

your mind taunts you with whispers, as if the smallest of memories carried the weight of years of pain “don’t be a disappointment, make her proud…for the love of God make her at least not regret having you.”

It feels ridiculous and you question yourself a second too long, maybe you should go to therapy like captain price had suggested all those months ago, no shame in asking for help, you cannot always survive on your own, one way or another you will find yourself also needing things from people to be happy.

“I hate the bloody rain…disturbs combat sessions” Simon said, trying to somehow make you feel less conscious about hating some aspects of life. Everyone is entitled to feel a certain way about things and it's time you understand that.

He wished he could bring himself to say more, a thought in the back of his head that told him you deserved to be one of the people he let into his life after seeing you consistently be present and helpful in every way you can. Maybe he was taking advantage of the situation.

But how could he not do so, you dedicated every ounce of energy running through your veins to comfort the disturbed, like it would fix the people who were born broken, shattered from the womb, welcomed into the world with death and violence.

“that’s a valid reason…yeah” you answered more to yourself than to him, his words replaying in your mind like a broken record, what wouldn’t you give to allow yourself to hate something so openly, to say you hated something and not hear your mother on the back of your head telling you to be grateful, that you were too selfish for hating things people liked and needed.

Simon shrugged, he didn’t need a valid reason to hate the rain, he guessed you were just talking through him, the need to have a valid point to dislike something seemed to be very important to you, almost anguishly so.

“It doesn't need to be valid love…you can have an opinion about the bloody rain without having a reason” he commented, breaking the silence that seemed to stretch for a longer period of time as the conversation went on with great difficulty, the both of you communicating because you thought the other needed it.

two helpless souls who cope in different ways, you were like the embodiment of trying to save people from drowning while not knowing how to swim yourself, and he was the water, taking down every living thing that he let into his space, killing without meaning to, almost unaware of the danger that lie within himself, a graveyard with not memory of the people he buried in it.

you understand his point of view, why he speaks what he does, but it doesn’t help you to accept that having a lack of reasoning isn’t in itself a death sentence to your worth. that you’re allowed to live happily hating something as insignificant as the rain and not be a bad person for it.

this goes beyond the simple rain though, you know it, he knows it but neither of you is ready to recognize it, cowardly so, but you’re not even worthy to criticize even your own behavior so you keep your mouth shut as time continues to pass.

some things are meant to change, the universe cannot continue its flow if they don’t. you should know that, it isn’t healthy to stay behind while pushing everyone to move forwards, wanting the past for yourself, to drown in memories of people who will not return, trying to change situations that already happened, there is no saving them, there is no saving yourself from experience it.

Moving on is a type of love, a love you have been neglecting yourself from.

Simon believes in a lot of things, God isn’t one of them, but he finds himself speaking to God more often than he cared to admit, suggesting him to give you some type of mercy, to give your mind the ability of forgiving and forgetting.

He knows it’s forlorn, that if God exists he isn't the person who God would choose to answer their prayers to, but the effort, as futile as it is, doesn't get lost on him. for once in his life he finds himself trying to seek help, not for his well being directly, but if you're fine, he will be too.

This time he doesn’t mind doing rotten work, not if it is for you.

You knew sooner or later life would catch up to you, that moving fastly wasn’t the right measure, especially when you struggled so greatly moving on from the past. It is conflicting and torturous to be pulled back and forwards constantly, your limbs cannot stand the tugging.

You're not made of rubber, the resistance will not last forever, one day you'll fall and not be able to get up. Caring for yourself is a decision you have to make, there’s no other choice but to tend after your wounds. Bleeding out is not an option.

“this is nice…” you mumbled, tracing your fingers on the hardcover of a book you had bought recently. It wasn’t often you allowed yourself to spend money on things you enjoyed, always buying things for others, the ones you believed deserved nice things more than you did.

It was a small action, one that set a mindset that you too, had the right to be a priority on your list of important things. your mother would be furious if she were by your side right now. Thankfully, sometimes death is kind, not to the people who pass, but to the people who get to live after the loss of someone who harmed them more than they took care of them.

“good to see you taking care of yourself” a voice said from behind you, spanning you out of your thoughts and bringing you back down to earth. It would have been nice to stay in your bubble for a bit longer but you're given the time you're given for now and hope to gain more in the future.

you hum, turning around and the figure of simon coming into view, your grip in the book tightens for a second before loosening in a relaxed manner, no need to bear the claws that you keep hidden to someone who is not set to harm you. not that you would hurt people that do.

you're a dog that doesn’t bark or bite, too domesticated to let instinct take over. wanting to please people more than the want to survive, dying in a pool of your own blood, proud of not bearing your teeth to someone who deserved even the slightest growl.

“is just a book” you replied as humbly as you can bring yourself to be at the moment, part of you believed you owed the biggest cordiality and humbleness to Simon, he was the one who had brought you to the point of being able to buy a book and feel half the guilt you would have experienced otherwise.

and this, in a world full of misfortune, pain and misery can only be described as an overdramatic motion to something as simple as shame to claim written pieces of paper as your own, but is difficult to not see it as the end of the world when you have never been able to even think that your suicide note is of your ownership.

Simon doesn't know the context of your so-called humbleness but he can shoot a guess in the dark and find the target quickly as everyone who cared to give you the slightest bit of attention did.

that was humiliating of course, and he knew better than to bring it up and throw you into a pool of more shame than you could survive in, drowning by the minute, unaware there was no bottom to sink to, just an eternity of feeling unwelcome into your own body and life.

“I have books too” he tries to approach the subject in a way you would,with carefulness and gentleness palpable but he is the furthest thing away from a cautious person when it came to feelings, not indulging in them the same way other people did, barely able to feel any at all most of the time.

So he ends up sounding as stupid as you often feel when speaking to people in the same tone, he cringes at his lack of ability to show he cares in a loving and indirect way, the gentleness of showing you care with more than overused words and phrases.

“What type of books do you read?” you ask, trying to find a crevice to slip through in his life as you always did, but every corner seemed to be sealed shut.

oh how much he wished you would just notice the door he opened just for you to walk in and never leave again.

This is stupid, that much is clear on his mind and yet at the same time the intimate tone of the conversation leaves him starving for more of you, a connection more profound than the care and worry you feel towards him who you think is forced to stand by your side.

“Philosophy” he responds, muttering gruffly his answer like the word feels heavy on his tongue, letting himself be known and seen by someone he feels may just be as rogue as him.

“Lovely…philosophy feeds the soul and kills it in the same motion” you comment, head tilted and eyes focused on the twitch his eyebrows do every few seconds, like it is the only way his emotions can manifest without being shut down by him.

“or my uncle used to say that, it can be false…i don't really read philosophy” yet again you find yourself explaining your words, fumbling over everything that could be said to give a reason to what leaves your mouth.

Do you give meaning to your words, or does the person who hears them?

Is tragic really, it is as if you can't help but run in circles around the idea that Simon would misunderstand you and walk away.

but you guess that the fear is to some degree acceptable, when all your life you've focused on understanding others, at the mere sight of someone trying to understand you you panic, worrying that what you are isn't pretty, worrying they won't understand the ugliness they might find.

All that is left is to let go, Can you let go?

The willingness to live and not just survive is something you have to find within yourself, and walking that path alone is not something you have to do.

Simons stands by your side, an understanding that whatever it is that weighs you down and attached you to your past is worth loving if it means to bring peace to a restless soul.

He wasn't wrong when he first met you, you are an angel who brings peace to the disturbed people roaming the earth, he just wishes the disturbance wasn't a disease.

he wished he had kept you pristine and unaware, no angelical being deserves to experience being a human, you did not deserve the torture that it is to be mortal, to lose and to be hurt.

[princelylove]

To be honest with you Your Highness, I have always felt afraid of Bruno for some reasons. When I rewatched part 5 with my best friend, they kept commenting how hot he was and all, I tried to imagine him but he scares me. I feel like he hides so much that sometimes it slips away, I would be totally afraid of staying near him even if he was smiling

Your fear is warranted, but displeases him greatly. It stresses him out, I should say. He's never displeased with his darling amore, but he'd much rather have you welcome him with loving arms than freeze when he so much as breathes in your presence.

The foundation of Bruno- of Bruno Bucciarati- is the fact that he is a good man. End of sentence, end of thought.

He's just trying to help. He loves you, he's just trying to take care of you. The rest of the team loves Bruno- he's great! They wouldn't be here if it weren't for him- he's not the type to do some crazy shit randomly, you're probably just mixing reality and whatever nightmares you're having from joining the mafia.

You like Bruno, the husband, but dislike Bucciarati, the mafioso, surely. Bruno's true self- the mix of both, Bruno Bucciarati- is not something easy to figure out at a distance, because he doesn't like the idea of his darling, or anyone else for that matter, looking into him beyond how he presents himself.

You're not really encouraged to look into mafiosi in general. Especially not a capo. Don't snoop, for your own safety's sake.

Despite strongly disliking liars, Bucciarati can lie through his teeth and sleep soundly at night. Bruno, however, feels a sort of discomfort in lying to those he holds in high regards- it's sort of cruel. The least he can do is be honest.

Most of the time, he is. Bruno is not a quick thinker, nor is he innately creative, making him a just-alright type of liar. His lies have to be thought of in advance- he wishes conversation was more like combat. Combat is easy, you survive and you protect, at all costs. Conversation is a mental battle he never trained for- he's a sociable man, but he's been surviving off of letting other people fill in the gaps for him. There's also the fact that the people Bruno finds himself interested in aren't to be lied to.

Bruno has a type, actually. I think most yanderes that fall into Bruno's niche (Jotaro, Risotto) would want someone that needs them. Someone smaller, someone weaker, someone that isn't capable of living without someone else. Of course you don't have to hit every box for Bruno to take interest, he could fall for someone taller, but he can't help but think the size difference with a smaller darling is oh-so-adorable. He has this habit of getting as close as possible and looking down at the both of your shoes, which, he could always just be checking his footing, but it's apparent he's gauging your size difference when he's only doing it with you.

Bruno prefers someone that is only pretending to be independent, or is just openly dependent. Bruno can only survive if he feels needed. Being loved is debatable, you'll always love the hand that feeds you, in a way. You can fall in love down the line once you get over these fears, Bruno's willing to prove that he's the safest man you'll ever meet.

Of course, if this isn't mutual, it's creepy as hell. The real reason that Bruno frightens you, besides from everything else I've described as off about him, is the fact that he does not, and will never, respect your boundaries. He's constantly pushing, whether you want it yet or not.

Bruno is not a man that will ever bend or break. There's nothing that can deter him once he has his mind on doing something- he shares such logic with plenty of other yanderes, but Bruno is a special case, because of his willpower.

Bruno lost his willpower before canon takes place. He has no motive to move elsewhere within the famiglia, his main motivation to get out of bed in the morning is caring for his little family- his famigliola, as he's tried to tell you- and honestly, majority of them are independent types and too old to be coddled. And even then, they're kind of odd, his youngest acts like the oldest and his oldest acts like the youngest, he has no idea how to handle them sometimes. Fathers are only good for spoiling and disciplining, not really any of the actual raising part. You do fun things with daddy, he doesn't make sure you're eating actual good dinners- that's where his darling comes in!

To Bruno, fighting meeting Giorno was like getting a second wind. He was in a massive rut emotionally, and was losing the sense of justice he clung to. Meeting his darling, after that. . . it was like breathing air for the first time. Regaining his soul.

So he can't just fold. It isn't over until it's over, and it's only over when he goes back to dust.

Bruno doesn't really understand what he's doing wrong. He has everything he needs to be appealing. He takes care of himself, he knows how to speak to people, he can provide both financially and emotionally, really, what is it?

When Bruno finds himself starting to feel agitated instead of hopeful you're coming around, then you may be afraid. Perhaps a little fear is good for you, long-term.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

My entry fo #Ghostchallenge, for @glitterypirateduck

Prompt 9. Alternate Universe

I want to dedicate this to my sweet anon that sends me fantastic asks all the time, actually this was born from one of them, when they asked me if my OC and Simon would have fallen in love in a civvilian setting.

Disclaimer: I use 3rd person but I tried to not describe her appearance further than being curvy. The render at the end is my own self service because after all, it's my OC

Tuesdays and Fridays were Simon’s favourite days at his butcher’s.

And the very reason why those were his favourite days just opened the door, with her usual radiant smile on her face that made his day, no matter how shitty it had been, all the better.

‘‘Good evening’’ Like a clock, every Tuesday and Friday after 6pm, when the hustle of the day had died down. Most likely when she got off work too.

‘‘Good evening, luv. I was about to close’’ Simon turned around to face the door, wiping his hands after taking his gloves off.

‘‘You say that every single time I come’’ She rolled her eyes with a small huff, still smiling. That time she only wanted a couple steaks and chicken breast, which was quite quick and easy to prepare as they chatted about the weather and the news.

One of the reasons his shop was still open and popular in the neighbourhood was that he closed a couple hours later than others. Why wouldn’t he? He had no one waiting at home. But thanks to that, people that worked late hours could still shop before going home.

‘‘Is that the nice girl from the museum? Remember you have a bag for her!’’ From the back room, Mrs Riley’s voice could be heard, and Simon wanted the ground to open and swallow him whole.

But the way she blushed made it all better.

‘‘A bag for me? But I didn’t order anything’’

‘‘No, I… kept bones from this week. For your dogs’’ Christ, he sounded lame. Was he sweating? He hoped not. ‘‘Are you still volunteering at the animal shelter?’’

‘‘Oh!’’ The way her whole face lit up with her smile had him weak in the knees. Pretty little thing, all soft curves and sweet eyes that made him feel like wanting to drown in them. ‘‘You’re so kind, you shouldn’t have…’’

‘‘It’s nothing, beautiful’’ Simon saw with satisfaction how she blushed again. The first time he had called her a pet name without thinking, couple months ago, she had gone red like a damn strawberry, and it had been so cute that he couldn’t help but test new ones every time she came into the shop, until he settled for the ones that seemed to have more reaction.

‘‘Is it very heavy?’’ She looked concerned for a second, but he just laughed, shaking his head.

‘‘It is, but I didn’t pretend you to carry it all the way to your house, luv. I’ll bring it over as a delivery, if that’s ok’’

‘‘Ah… yes, it is ok, but…’’ Fucking hell, the way she chewed her lower lip. Thank God the counter was high enough to hide his lower half.

‘‘What is it, beautiful?’’

‘‘I… moved last month’’ She looked down, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘‘So I guess I should give you my new address?’’

‘‘That’d be useful’’ Simon nodded, opening the book where he wrote down his client’s addresses for delivery. After finding her surname, he wrote down the new address as she dictated it, still flustered. ‘‘All set then. When do you wish to schedule the delivery?’’

‘‘Oh, I… have no preference’’ She shrugged, with a small smile that tore at his heart. ‘‘If I’m not at work or at the shelter I’m always home’’

‘‘I’d prefer to be able to schedule it if you don’t mind, just in case…’’ Simon looked down at her over the counter, his mobile phone in hand. ‘‘Would it be best to call beforehand?’’

She nodded, like in a daze, and took her own phone out so they could exchange numbers.

‘‘Let’s hope the boyfriend won’t get angry when I call’’ Simon chuckled, saving her phone number as Her. She looked up from her own screen, her eyes wide.

‘‘There’s… no boyfriend’’

‘‘No?’’ He couldn’t believe it. Leaning over the counter, he cocked his head to one side. ‘‘Husband?’’

‘‘No’’ She was blushing again, but didn’t seem offended. He tried his luck once again.

‘‘Girlfriend or wife?’’

‘‘No’’ Now she laughed. With a quiet, shy giggle that she covered with one hand, and made his own smile widen.

‘‘Pretty sweet thing like you single, something is very wrong in this world’’

Oh, the way she blushed. He wondered if she’d look like that, every single morning while waking up in tangled sheets, bright eyes and messy hair, covered in sweat and kisses.

Trying to shake his unspeakable fantasies off, he placed her order on the counter, neatly wrapped and in a paper bag.

‘‘I’ll schedule the delivery for tomorrow evening after I close, is that ok?’’

‘‘Yes, of course, but…’’ She seemed to hesitate, chewing her lip again. And brushing her hair back again. He had noticed in the latest weeks that it was something she did often when flustered or nervous. ‘‘Tomorrow is Saturday… don’t you have… plans for the evening? After work?’’

‘‘Nah, just watching the game with my brother at home, most likely’’ Simon shrugged, oblivious to the way her shoulders fell a bit. ‘‘You know how it is. Beers at home and yelling at the goalie’’

‘‘Sure… well, I should get going before it gets darker’’ She smiled again, and waved at Simon’s mum when she came into view from the back room. ‘‘Bye, Mrs. Riley. Bye, Simon, thank you’’

‘‘Bye, sweetheart’’ Mrs. Riley smiled and waved, before turning to her oldest son the second the door closed. ‘‘I sure didn’t raise you to be this daft’’

‘‘What?’’ Simon looked at his mum, flabbergasted. What did he do now? ‘‘What did I do?’’

‘‘That new address of hers, is from the other side of town, you absolute idiot’’ The woman sighed, a bit dramatically, slapping her son’s arm. ‘‘She moved almost an hour away and still comes to buy meat from you. How oblivious can you be?’ Oh, and she asks you what are you doing Saturday night and you tell her you’re watching a match?? Oh, I’m going to disown you’’

Simon blinked, horrified. Fucking hell. Oh, Jesus Christ.

Mrs. Riley watched in amusement as her son bolted out of the door, shaking her head before starting to clean the counters.

[giggly-squiggily]

Take It All Back (Black Clover)

Okay so...I don't know how to explain this one kjarkjajkrjek I had a really bad case of Zorafin on my hands and needed to write it out! The ship has taken me by the jugular and I'm okay with that lols. I hope you like it!

CW: Swearing, Angst, Black Clover Ep. 87 spoilers!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@duckymcdoorknob @rachi-roo @imjusthere07

Summary: Finral's having severe self doubts about himself and his place in the Black Bulls. He finds comfort and something more from an unlikely source.

Finral would call his self-confidence a work in progress.

There were days where he thrived, pulling out all the stops during a practice session with the Bulls or saving the day with his portal magic just when they needed it. There was a rare but special tug of pride in his chest when that happened.

Then there were days like today where that tug of pride felt more like an anchor in his chest, dragging him further and further down his high and reminding him of all his shortcomings. “You’re nothing more than a taxi.” “Who would ever want you? Your own parents didn’t even want you!” “You’re a waste of space in the Bulls. You’re nothing without them- a living breathing parasite-”

“Boo.” A finger jabbed his hip from behind, making him jump forward with a startled squeak. “Did I scare ya?”

“No- I just make that noise in my downtime.” Finral grumbled as he turned around, finding none other than Zora Ideale before him. Something about the masked redhead made his spine tingle, sending goosebumps along his skin beneath his long sleeves. “What do you want, anyway?”

“Oo, someone’s grumpy today.” Those damn eyebrows- he looked so smug! “What’s the matter? Captain got you delivering toilet paper to him again? You’re kinda like a delivery man.”

Nothing but a taxi.

He was wounded, and it must have shown on his face by the wide eyed surprise Zora wore. “Shit- sorry man. I didn’t mean to cut you.”

“No- no, it’s not-” Finral willed his face to neutral out, trying to force the stinging behind his eyes back. “You didn’t do anything wrong; I just…” Something hot ran down his face. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Finral…” Zora looked alarmed, reaching out.

“I gotta go! Erm, important business; bye!” He whirled around and ran, opening a portal as he did. Zora’s cry for him to stop was the last thing he heard before the magic closed out all sound, including the weak sob he made.

~~~

Weak. Pathetic. What kind of senior bull member was he to suddenly start crying in front of the rookie?

Finral slumped in his bed, the sentiment pulsing through him like a wound as he glared into his wet pillow. He’s not usually so quick to tears- and when they did come, he learned to hide them well. What the hell happened out there? Why of all people did he have to start crying in front of Zora?

Was it too late to fade away in the walls? He supposed he could do a Gordon; become so quiet and soft spoken he’d be nothing but a ghost.

…He really shouldn’t view his teammate like that.

Before he could wallow in shame further, someone knocked. Slow and heavy; not like Vanessa’s quick and playful ones- nor were Magna’s aggressive banging. This was the kind of knock he wasn’t familiar with at all. “Hello?” He called out.

“Hey…it’s me.” Zora? Finral felt his heart drop into his stomach, a surge of anxiety hitting him so strongly he felt nauseous.

“H-Hang on!” He called, running to the bathroom with shaky legs. Splashing water on his face, he tried to wipe away his earlier tears, cringing at how red his eyes looked. Fixing his hair, he straightened up, smoothing out his shirt and taking a quick breath. It was what it was.

Opening the door, he put on his best smile, the one he used to charm the ladies in town. “Hello there, Zora. How can I help you?”

The second he met Zora’s eyes his confidence crumbled. Green irises took him in, from the wetted down hair to the fragile smile to the shaky pose. “Hey…can I come in?”

“Sure! Sure, have a seat!” Finral stepped back, trying to breathe. God, this was falling apart faster than he planned. “Your probably wondering why I ran away-”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s my line.” Finral blurted out, then froze, embarrassed. “Wait- huh?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that- the delivery man thing.” Zora ran a hand through his hair, the tops of his cheeks heating in shame as he looked away. “I hadn’t realized how it came out. I’m really sorry.”

“...I…” Finral gaped, looking for words. He was the one that was supposed to apologize- a senior Bull running away from his rookie over a dumb comment; how unprofessional of him. That’s what he figured Zora came by for; not this! “It’s okay, really. You don’t need to apologize-”

“I made you cry.” Zora looked angry, but not at Finral. “I hurt you.”

“...No, no you didn’t.” Finral sighed, gesturing for him to sit down. “It wasn’t you that made me cry, I’m just having a bad day.”

“My comment didn’t help.” Zora argued, no heat in his tone. Finral shrugged, a tired laugh escaping.

“No, it didn’t. But I forgive you.”

Zora nodded, something like relief passing over him. “Do you…erm, do you want to talk about it?” He seemed so awkward then, like it was new territory he was crossing. It was new for Finral too.

At first, he didn’t say much, just reiterated that he was having a bad day. But after a gentle push from Zora, he let it go. He found himself talking about his insecurity and how lately he felt as if he’d contributed nothing to the team. How he could easily be replaced by a speedy broom and a map, and how while he was making some progress in using his spacial magic for more than transportation, it wasn’t enough to justify his place in the team.

At some point, Zora had moved over so he was sitting beside him on the bed. Now he was supporting him, an arm rubbing soothing circles against Finral’s back as the other sniffled out the last of his pain, wiping at his tears. He didn’t push for details, nor did he give any commentary; he just sat there and listened.

Finally, when his tears came to an end and Finral could somewhat breathe again, Zora hummed in thought. “That…sounds like literal hell.”

Finral snorted, oddly comforted by Zora’s way of words. “It is. But it’s not the team’s fault. No one makes me feel this way, it’s just my own stupidity.”

“You’re not stupid. You're the farthest thing from stupid.” Zora cut in firmly, taking Finral by surprise. “Don’t call yourself that.”

“But it’s true. Why else would I feel the way I feel?” Finral shrugged, something bitter in his gesture. “I’m in a team surrounded by amazing people, and yet here I am wallowing in self pity. Surely that makes me seem pathetic, doesn't it.”

Zora stared at him, stunned. Then he glared, a look so ferocious Finral felt taken aback. “How dare you.”

“Huh?”

“You dare talk bad about the Finral of the Black Bulls in my presence?” Zora raised up some, eyes glistening with unreadable rage. “A man with such brilliance for strategy and a kindness you can’t find anywhere else- and you dare call him pathetic?”

“Zora, what the hell are you saying- whoa!” Finral yelped when he was pushed back into the bed, the redhead hovering over him. “Zora?”

“I’ll make you pay. Take it back right now.” Zora growled. The mask made him even scarier, yet Finral felt no true malice in his presence. Was he braver than he thought?

“I don’t know what you’re going on about.” Finral decided after a moment. “But as your senior Bull member, I will not acknowledge your threats. I ref-ehehehehehehehehehehehe!” He couldn’t finish his statement before fingers found his ribs, worming gently along the warm fabric of his tunic. “Zohoohohohora, whahahahhait!”

“I told you to take it back. You’re gonna apologize for saying such foul things about Finral or I’ll make you!” Zora was inches from his face, fingers carrying on their game as he walked them up and down the other man’s sides. This close, Finral could see the truth now. Zora was far from angry.

He was looking mighty mischievous.

“Noohohoohoho way! Thehehhehey’re true! I knohohohow- I ahahahham him!” Finral giggled out, gently swatting at Zora’s hands as they moved to his lowest rib set. “Thehehehehy’re faahahha-AHAHHACTUAL!”

“Impossible- you can’t be Finral! The Finral I know would never call himself those things. He’s not a parasite, he’s not a taxi, and he certainly isn’t a pathetic person! He’s great- he makes good coffee in the morning and listens to me ramble about stupid shit throughout the day- and he doesn’t care if I nap during practice!”

“I dohohoohoohohoho chahahahahhahre! Yohohohohou juhuhuuhuhust doohohohon’t lihihihihisten!”

“Hm…yeah, you got a point.” Zora mused, moving back to his highest ribs and making Finral squeal. “But mine still stands- you're a great guy. I’ll ask one more time before I go all out; take that bullshit back.”

“Eheh…ehehehehe….heheh…” Finral gasped for air when the tickles came to a pause, weighing his options. He knew where this was going; and he knew if he did as demanded, Zora would keep his word. He could be spared.

But…

“Nohohooho way! I mehahhahan it!” Finral raised his chin, firm in his decision. The look in Zora’s eyes did funny things to his stomach. Seems like they were on the same page now.

“Oh do you?” Zora raised a brow.. His smile was particularly dangerous as he pulled Finral’s arms up and over his head, pinning them in place with a single grip. “Shame.”

The next few minutes were a blur in Finral’s mind. The second those dastardly fingers touched his armpits it was all over. “AHEHAHAHAHHAHAHA! OOHOHOHOOKAY OHOOHOHHOKAY I TAHEHEHEKE IT BAHAHAHCK! I TAHAHHAHAHKE IT BACK PLEAHAHHAHAHSE!”

“Hmmmm….okay.” Zora decided just as Finral grabbed his collar; yanking him down and throwing him off balance. The redhead shot his arms out, stopping a full blown collision.

“PLehehehase!” Finral gasped, slowly coming too as the tickles faded. “Please….oh, hello there.” He felt himself flush for a new reason: Zora's face inches from his own.

“Hello to you too. Come here often?” His voice was a husky whisper, blue eyes like the deepest part of the ocean as they gazed down into Finral’s. He even had long lashes!

Finral always liked long lashes.

He felt his breath catch, eyes starting to droop as Zora reached up for the corner of his mask-

A bang on the door drew them both apart, Zora shooting up in a daze and leaving Finral feeling somewhat cold. “Finral- whatever your doing in there, hurry up. We got a mission.” Captain Yami’s voice boomed even through the thick wooden doors. Footsteps faded soon after, sobering the younger man.

“Shit- I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened-”

“Nah, you're fine. I came here to comfort you and-”

“I dragged you onto me! What kind of guy am I-”

“No complaints here.”

That last part stopped Finral in his tracks. “What?” He blinked, staring at the redhead.

“No complaints. In fact-I wouldn’t mind if we picked this back up after your mission.” Zora waggled his brows, a gesture so cheesy Finral couldn’t help but laugh. “Interested, teleporter?”

It all felt like a blur, this whole thing. One minute he was wallowing in self-pity, the next he was being comforted AND tickled to death by the strange redheaded mage before him. And now…

“Are you…asking me out?” Finral tried not to sound so unsure. Zora only smiled at him.

“Would you say yes if I was?”

Finral considered. Then he raised his chin stubbornly. “Not like that. If you’re gonna ask me out, do it right. Like this.” He stood, standing tall before the older man and putting on his best smile. “Would you go out with me, Zora Ideale.”

“You stole my line.” Zora sounded almost breathless, shaking his head with an easy grin. “Sounds fun. Yes, I will.”

Thanks for reading!

[synnamonroll666]

Can you Josh x black female reader whose feeling a little insecure so they have mirror sex while he tells her especially and in GREAT detail what he likes about her??

Tell Me You're Beautiful

Pairing: Josh Washington x Black Fem!Reader Description: After a full day of no replies to his texts, Josh went to his girlfriend's house to find her hiding in her room. After learning that insecurities are keeping her in bed and none of the usual compliments working to cheer her up, he decided to show her how he sees her in a different way... Warnings: Angst, Reader Is Very Insecure, Self-Hatred, Smut, Soft Dom!Josh, Mirror Sex, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex But No Creampie, Third Person POV, Specific Descriptions Of The Reader. (If I Missed Any Tags, Let Me Know.) Word Count: 2k A/N: I'm so sorry this too so long but if any of you follow me, you know I'm indecisive as fuck with editing. 😂 Also, someone requested another black fem!reader on my other blog, about Josh and the reader playing 7 minutes in heaven. They asked if I could make it spicy so I'm going to do that one on this blog instead since this is my smut one. So if that anon is reading this, just know that I did get your request and I am working on it. And to the anon who requested this fic, I hope you enjoy it. I may have went a little more dramatic with it than intended but I tried my best. 😅🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

She laid curled up in bed, a large hoodie covering her form and a look of sadness pulling down her features. Her phone had been blowing up all day. Friends asked her to go on outings, and her boyfriend, who was concerned by her absence.

It was 3 p.m. when she heard a knock at her bedroom door. Figuring it was only her mother, she gave acceptance to them entering, only to be left dumbfounded when her boyfriend, Josh, came through with a very worried expression on his face.

"Josh, please! I need to be alone right now." She expressed this while pulling the blanket up her chest, subconsciously wanting to hide away from his watchful eyes.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" He asked while stepping into the room, despite her protest.

He immediately came to her side, concern evident in his features. He was always one to care—always so quick to throw everything out the window and run to her beck and call. He was always her hero, even if he was the one who needed saving. But that wasn't important now. What really mattered was fixing whatever had her so broken down.

"Please, (Y/N)... Tell me what's wrong." He practically begged, just hoping it was nothing too big that he couldn't fix. Even then, he would go to great lengths to at least make it better.

"It's just..." She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper, as her brown eyes gazed up at him through her tears. He nodded his head while taking her small hands in his own, urging her to continue. And with a deep breath, she finally got what's been killing her inside off her chest. "I can't stand myself..."

Josh could only respond with a quiet "Huh?" not fully understanding what she had meant. She shook her head, not wishing to elaborate but finally finding the words after releasing a subtle sigh.

"I can't even look at myself. I'm not like those girls in the magazines. I'm not special." She admitted it shamefully, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her hoodie as she did so.

Josh understood these feelings. Despite his confident demeanor, he was just as insecure as most people. Hell, maybe even more. He hated that she felt this gut-wrenching feeling. However, he knew he could remedy this.

"You're wrong." He stated it firmly, his voice now so strong and confident, it caused her to do a double take back in his direction. "You're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Most guys would give their left nut to be with you."

She scoffed at his comment and rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that..."

Though she appreciated his efforts, it would take more to convince her just how beautiful she really was. Josh knew this and made a vow within his mind that he would do everything in his power to prove it to her—to make her see herself through his eyes.

"Stand up." He then demanded. The command took her by surprise, though she obeyed his order, standing to her full height. It didn't do much, though, as he still towered over her by quite a lot. His height was always something she admired about him. It made her feel safe.

He took her by the arm and pulled her in front of her full-body mirror. Her gaze dropped, reluctant to look at the image reflected before her. She didn't want to see it—the reflection of the girl she, unfortunately, was. Josh shook his head at this.

"Look." he demanded firmly.

A mere minute passed of her not daring to do what she was told before he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. Though it was a startling gesture, his touch was soft and gentle, as if she were fine glass in his large hands. Her eyes began to tear up as she looked at herself, seeing nothing but flaws before her.

"Tell me what you see." His voice came out a little softer than before, but it was still nothing less than the demand he gave right before.

"Just a girl..." She responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head again, slightly frustrated that she didn't understand what he was trying to show her. But he knew this would take more work. He knew what he had to do.

"Take your clothes off."

Her lips fell agape as she looked at his reflection, astonished that he would ask such a thing. Though she really didn't want to see herself naked, she was intrigued. Though the request was rather suggestive, the look in his soft, green orbs told a different story—one that told her that his intentions were not crude.

She pulled her hood back, the coils in her soft hair falling gracefully over her shoulder as she did so. His eyes lit up, and he reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear to admire her face.

Then she pulled it over her head, revealing her white tank top beneath. His fingers grazed her soft shoulders as she toyed with the hem of her shirt, not knowing if she wanted to do such a thing at this moment.

"Show me," he coaxed her in a soft tone before pressing a soft kiss on her tear-soaked cheek.

With a shaky breath, she pulled her tank top over her head. Her soft breasts bounced slightly as they were freed from the confinement of their fabricated prison, and Josh couldn't help but smirk just a little as he watched. He was still a man, after all.

Then, she found the courage to remove her shorts and panties, throwing them on the floor in a messy pile with her hoodie and tank top. Without skipping a beat, Josh reached up and turned the knob on her lamp, putting her under what felt like a literal spotlight. Her stomach twisted into knots as she folded her arms across her chest, not wanting Josh to see her flaws that were so obvious under the bright light.

But then she felt his hands on her shoulders once more, squeezing ever so slightly. She looked up to see him watching her through the mirror, his eyes glimmering with love. He removed one hand from her shoulder, and soon, the sound of a belt buckle being opened was heard.

She didn't know how she ended up in this situation anymore, but something about it felt pleasant. She was with the man she loved. And though she was in this uncomfortable position, she knew she was in good hands.

Josh entered her from behind, letting out a trembling breath as he pushed every inch into her tight hole. She bit her plump lip, trying hard not to moan like a pornstar already. Though she knew it was something Josh loved.

Once he was inside her fully, he retracted his hips before pushing in again with more force. She almost fell forward—face nearly clashing with the glass before her—but Josh was quick to scoop an arm around her frame, pulling her close to his chest.

He found himself a steady rhythm and watched her reaction through the reflection, enjoying how her lips turned all pouty as she moaned or how her eyes went watery and lidded from the pleasure. That's when he decided to do his work. Of course, fucking her insecurities away wasn't going to work. He needed to do more.

He let his lips graze the shell of her ear and whispered, "Wanna know what I see?"

Her eyes opened at that, not knowing how to respond. She was still half-intoxicated by the arousal she felt to even comprehend exactly what he meant by that. Smirking at her distracted nature, Josh decided to continue anyway.

"I see a beautiful, strong goddess of a woman." He groaned, his breath hitching in his throat, when her soaked pussy squeezed him. It was clear she was enjoying the praise, so he continued on, wanting to show his girl just how amazing she was. "You're so soft—so tight. Everything about you is perfect."

Her cheeks warmed up from this treatment, flustering her mind and clouding it with something new besides pleasure. She wanted to collapse in his embrace—to just let go of all her worry and let him be the one to guide her to the light. Josh's words brought her back to reality for a short moment, only to send her crashing into bliss once more.

"The way your hair smells and feels," he said, burying his face into her soft coils, inhaling deeply to take in her scent.

"Your skin, the perfect shade of chocolate, and how it's just as sweet," he kissed her neck, his tongue swirling around the pulse, earning a heavenly moan from her trembling lips.

His hips faltered for a moment, as her sounds rang through his ears like the song of a goddess, the one he knew she was.

"How your gorgeous brown eyes reflect your warm personality." He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger once more to turn her head so he could gaze down into her orbs with a tender look to show his sincerity.

Her dark eyes brightened under the small light as she looked up at him, showing off all the beautiful shades of brown within her iris. They not only show the unique patterns but also her shimmering soul—like an angel in heaven's light.

"I love how they tell me your every want and desire." With that being said, he reached a hand down, two fingers brushing against her clit. The brief and subtle contact was enough to make her eyes roll into the back of her head, and his smile broadened, knowing damn well that he was successful. He pushed her face back to the mirror, holding it there to force her eyes on herself. "Now tell me how beautiful you are."

"I-I'm beautiful..." She murmured through ragged breaths, not realizing her words. It worked like some sort of hypnosis in a way, subconsciously putting the message into her mind through pleasure.

"Louder," he demanded, his fingers finding purchase on her swollen little bud to rub tight circles around it.

"I'm b-beautiful!" She groaned as her body began shaking under his intoxicating touch.

Josh gritted his teeth as his cock throbbed within her, begging for release. He was so close, but he knew she was as well. He wanted his angel to make it to the edge first, with the message of how amazing she was engraved in her mind.

"Louder!" He shouted through his clenched canines, pushing his cock harder and deeper within her with each sloppy thrust.

"I'm beautiful!" She cried out as tears streamed down her face.

And like a wildfire, that intense sensation burning within her core spread throughout her body. He held her close as she rode through her high on his dick, keeping her in his warm embrace as he worked her through it.

When she squeezed his member, he couldn't hold on any longer. He pulled out and released his load onto her ass, nearly cumming a second time from how hot the sight was before him. It was like marking her, in a way—claiming her as his.

As he admired her body while coming down from his high, her eyes remained on herself through that reflection on the now-steamy glass. She wiped her hand over the cool surface to clear her vision of herself, and she continued to stare as her chest rose and fell with each soft breath she took.

"I'm beautiful..." She whispered, now believing that statement as it fell from her lips.

Josh wrapped his arms around her frame after brushing a few stray coils from her face. He pressed a soft kiss on her temple and then rested his head atop hers while gazing into her warm eyes through the mirror.

"You're not just beautiful," He murmured, admiring the goddess in his grasp and all her stunning features. "You're perfect, babe."

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

[diddlyhoofkins]

Alastor X Shapeshifter Female Reader

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of s*icide, slow backstory ig too, 2nd POV

Let me know if you would like me to keep going?

Some sort of Prologue:

It has been a while since... well since you woke up only to discover you were in quite the literal version of Hell.

After a good three years of making somewhat of a name for yourself (not really) you longed for something out of your reach - company.

See, you were another mystery to all of Hell, hiding behind many faces, nobody was sure of just how exactly powerful you are or even who you are?

If you were an overlord surely it would have somehow been stated through the media or you yourself would have made a power grab.

No, that was not the way in which you chose to express yourself. You were quite powerful yes, and you managed to do decent damage to make the other overlords aware of your presence. That to you, was enough as it had kept things amusing. To add to it all the media on "666 News" even dubbed you as "The Shifter" so creative I know.

The issue with all of this however, was having to always be someone other than yourself. The reason you manifested here instead of Heaven was because you could not handle your own self in your previous life and decided to end it. The very thing you tried to escape so desperately ended up being apart of who you are down here.

What I mean by this is how no matter who you were with, you never felt like you truly fit in. Now somebody who knew you might have blown you off with a "but you get along with everyone?" And while that might have been true it wasn't something substantial. As it was, you wanted more than just meager chit-chat and pleasantries. It all seemed fake with everyone and everybody.

"Were they all gossiping behind their backs about you when you weren't there?"

"Do they only talk to me when they need something?"

"Do they even care?"

These were just the fewer of your thoughts, which often lead to a crumbling and crying self-loathing session. You never really thought that s*icide would be something that could lead you to Hell. Of course, you knew it was a sin... but God was known for his forgiveness surely you lead a respectful enough life for him to give you one last relief? HA! No.

It is as if you could not escape from your former life and you never would be able to considering where you are.

Now, with all of that in mind being reborn as a shapeshifter makes sense no? As someone who will never truly be able to stay in a single form long enough before feeling like there is an unscratchable itch somewhere within and unreachable.

This is not to be mistaken for not having a true form, no, you knew how you looked, how you really looked.

That being said it was strangely funny how you met no other shapeshifter in Hell, not that you would know at first glance but you managed to get a good read on people. This, along with scrutinizing every new person you met came in handy for whenever you needed to shift. The thing is you took shifting rather seriously, meaning you really wanted to "get into character" as if you were acting in a movie. And in order to do so, you studied them from afar or at the very least gathered as many details about them as you could.

The rule was to not get caught, as it almost happened once with Vox, which was one of the reasons you decided not to ever shift into any of the currently residing overlords in Hell. You would be lying however, if you said it never crossed your mind. Only in the comfort of your own home did you actually dare to shift into Vox (as he was one of the only overlords you had not one but two almost personal encounters with). The first time being when you saw the Princess of Hell on TV who promised forbidden hope of redemption.

You didn't want to admit it but you were tempted very tempted. Could this possibly be true? Moreover could you escape yourself once and for all? There was one way to find out.

"It's time to check into a hotel I guess"