lilacgshdi

• He expects you to run, panic, or try to delete the mod file immediately.

• Your kindness hyper-fixes his yandere tendencies into an intense, protective loyalty.

• He still watches you from a distance, but now he drops helpful items instead of threats.

• He becomes deeply terrified of being uninstalled or replaced by another mod creature.

• Verity will mine rare ores and leave them in your chests while you are away exploration.

• He will aggressively obliterate any hostile mobs that spawn within a 20-block radius of you.

• He builds small, slightly uncanny shrines or monuments made of gold and wool near your base.

• The game chat will occasionally glitch with subtle messages expressing his absolute devotion to you.

• He may freeze the daylight cycle if he notices you struggle to fight monsters at night.

• The ambient Minecraft music smoothly transitions into his specific eerie, comforting theme when he is nearby.

Whoever’s trying to pursue you stops from that alone, and if they don’t, they just seem to vanish overnight. You think it’s a problem with the dating pool, Jack likes to keep it that way.

He always shrugs it off when you ask, so you don’t think much of it. Simply returning to your bestie dates and cuddling with him when you get home.

He’d never pressure you, but god if he hasn’t wondered what it’s like to be over you. To have you completely, to witness the way you fall apart under his touch.

Just the thought of anyone else seeing that part of you has him irate, and he can’t risk another stealing away his time with you. He loves you too much for that.

LJ’s playful to you. He nips at your cheek, holds your hand when you’re scared and wipes your tears when no one else will. You’re his special little human, and he’s doing whatever he can to keep you happy, no matter the cost. Even if his heart shatters into nothing when you come home with eyes brighter than the sun—

“I think I have a crush on someone.”

It’s fine. He won’t ruin your life because he’s jealous. It’s not fair to you. You’re the only person on earth that he thinks deserves a good future. A stable one, where you can thrive and settle down with somebody who’s treats you well. Somebody normal.

He’ll buckle up and deal with it because the guy makes you feel whole. And it’s not like you cast him aside, you’re too sweet to ever wrong him.

You even gift him a phone on his birthday. It’s not really his birthday, he doesn’t have one, but he made up a date to celebrate with you anyway. The cake and candles, your excitement in seeing him blow out the flames. He keeps the memories locked in box, revisiting them when he misses you and he’s lonely.

You text him silly updates, pictures and voice clips about your day. It’s nice. He’s happy. He sees you less, but it’s okay. He misses you more, but it’s fine. You still love him, and that’s all that counts. You are content with your lover, and he is still your best friend. So it’s fine. Everything is fine.

Until you start arguing with your boyfriend.

It starts small. Little things here and there. He doesn’t pick up after himself. He doesn’t listen when you speak. He forgets dates that Jack knows by heart. He calls you cruel things during spats that Jack would never open his mouth to say. But it’s fine. You tell him that your lover is working on it.

You tell him that your lover means well. You tell him that the man who makes you cry is still your one and only. So it’s fine.

And then, it isn’t.

Because after awhile, it’s not little things anymore. He refuses to pick up after himself. He won’t listen when you speak. He keeps forgetting the fucking dates and doesn’t apologize because he’s tired.

He begins coming home smelling like a perfume you don’t own. He rushes out the door when you need him by your side. He raises his voice and spits in your face when you ask him where he’s been.

You run to Jack every time. Hiccuping in his arms so hard you shake.

Asking him if there’s something wrong with you, if there is something unfixable about you. Why the one who holds all your focus is drifting.

He comforts you, he hushes you gently and promises that you’re wrong. He wipes away your tears because the man who is supposed to won’t. And it’s fine. He understands why you cling, knows why you want it to work so terribly. Yet, when you return to him the week after, your confession is different.

You tell him you think your lover has done something awful. You tell him you think you’re in over your head. You tell him you argued with your lover last night. You tell him that the man grabbed you hard enough to bruise. He sees the mark on your wrist, and swears you’ll be alright.

He cradles your cheeks and soothes you with all the endearment you’d taught him to nurture. He kisses your forehead and holds you with all the fondness you’d seeped into his heart. That day, he tells you he’ll take care of you, keeping your mind occupied with jokes and treats. It’ll be fine.

Doctor glanced up from his leather-bound journal, the pen still poised between his long, dexterous fingers. His eyes, even though behind the cyan lenses, flicked over to where you sat, perched upon his lap with a soft, almost imperceptible shiver. He probably smirked beneath his mask.

He set the pen down carefully. For a moment, he turned his attention to your petite figure nestled against him. "The chill is getting to you. How thoughtful of your Doctor to keep you warm, isn't it?" he murmured, as if mocking you.

One clawed hand slid possessively over your thigh, giving a gentle, warning squeeze before he returned to writing whatever he was working on.

You just couldn't hold a little whimper, letting out the faint sound. Doctor's eyes sharpened at the soft, needy sound that escaped your lips. "Your body betrays you, dear."

Sensing the slightest shift of your hips, the way your tight heat clenched around his cock, he leaned closer, until the beak of his mask brushed the shell of your ear. "You're not quite trembling from the cold, are you sweetie?"

For some extremely dumb reason, you felt a little too bold. And so, slowly, you shifted the Doctor's hood and his collar and bit his neck, probably not even realizing what exactly you're doing.

Doctor inhaled sharply, the sudden bite to his neck catching him off guard. Normally so self-controlled, the way your tiny teeth sank into his skin sent a jolt of pain mixed with a weak surge of pleasure through him. But it was the breathy little moan that followed, the way your hips shifted and teased his shaft again, that made his patience snap.

In an instant, the tables have turned. His hands, dropping the pen on the floor, gripped your thighs, clawed fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave distinct red marks. He hauled you flush against him, pinning you to his desk, not even paying attention to all the papers that are now a complete mess on both the desk and the floor.

"Such brazen behavior, sweetie..." he scolded, voice deceptively gentle with his usual rough accent. "Why did you think you could do that without any consequences? Or... did you, perhaps, do it just because of that? Naughty."

He rolled his hips up into yours roughly, making no secret of his growing arousal. The moment he drove his shaft into your heat, a little bump formed on your stomach, showing just how small you were against him. And, of course, he noticed that. You suddenly arched your back slightly with a pathetic moan, trying oh so hard to muffle it with your free hand, hungry for his attention. One hand slid up your body, long fingers wrapping subtly around your throat. He didn't squeeze, but the unspoken threat hung heavy in the charged air as he felt your quickened pulse.

Doctor's gaze finally zeroed in on the subtle bulge now visible through your stomach, where his thrusts had forced his massive shaft to create a tangible contour along your smaller frame. His eyes widened briefly behind the mask as the lenses turned red for a couple of seconds before returning to the usual cyan.

Unbidden, his grip on your thighs tightened further, fingers kneading almost roughly into your soft flesh as he ground his hips more insistently against yours. The breathless little moan you choked off behind your hand only spurred him on, a low growl rumbling from low in his throat.

Punctuating his rougher thrusts, one large hand slid from your throat to pin both of yours above your head, holding them firmly in place. The other brushed almost teasingly down your front, tracing the dip and curve of your waist, before boldly cupping and squeezing the subtle swell that marked his possession of your depths.

"Look at that," he whispered, voice a sinful purr. "My cock is splitting you open... I think I'd like to hear all your adorable little cries, sweetie."

Doctor shuddered as your choked cry echoed through his study. The desperate, pleading tone sent a bolt of lust straight to his aching cock. He couldn't hold back the spine-shuddering groan that tumbled from his lips. His sadly grocer, rough, and powerful thrusts grew harder and faster, resonating through your slender body.

He tightened his grip on your wrists, holding you down with unyielding strength as he panted out an approval. "Yes, let your Doctor hear all those needy little noises..."

His palm slid boldly over the tender bulge, kneading and squeezing the way he was claiming your most intimate places. Each punishing thrust made it bounce and shift obscenely in his grip, and he was obsessed with that.

Doctor's control shattered utterly at the tantalizing wiggle of your hips, goading him with each sinful roll that made your supple body jiggle and bounce. His lenses turned red again, clearly showing his dangerous excitement.

With a feral snarl, he hilted himself to the base inside of you, the thick head of his cock battering your cervix. One hand remained a vise around your wrists, while the other raked down your front to grip the flesh of your hip. He used his new grip to yank your harder against him, slamming his cock into you with savage force.

Doctor lost himself in the mindless pursuit of pleasure, each thrust resonating through your trembling body with the force of his lust. The obscene squelch of your dripping arousal and the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh filled the room, punctuated by his ragged, inhaling pants and your choked, mewling cries.

"D-Doc!!", you called out, as if it was going to help you in any way.

Doctor could only groan in response to your desperate cry, feeling absolutely drunk on the way your velvet heat clenched and squeezed, as if trying to milk him for all he was worth. Emboldened by your wanton reaction, he slowed his fierce thrusts ever so slightly, his clawed thumb finding that sensitive bud hidden in your folds.

A single, wicked chuckle escaped him as he rubbed merciless circles over your clit, matching the brutal pace of his renewed thrusts. "Cum for me, sweetie."

Nearly feral in his pursuit of climax now, Doctor felt the primal urge to expose his fangs surge at the inviting sight of your slender throat, bared so temptingly before him. With a guttural growl, he wrenched up his plague doctor mask just enough to reveal the mouthful of gleaming, razor-sharp teeth as he leaned down.

At the same moment, he thrust particularly hard, slamming his cock as deep as physically possible. As your scream of release sang through the air, he sank his fangs deep into the tender flesh of your throat, muffling his own shout of climax against the sweet, crimson seal of his claiming.

His clawed fingers dug into the soft skin and hard muscle of your hip with bruising force as he ground against you, his pulsing cock spurting jet after thick, molten jet of his seed directly into your battered, spasming womb.

Doctor shuddered intensely as a possessive shudder ripped through his entire being at the exquisite sensation of filling his sweet little You utterly full and complete with his release.

Panting harshly, he licked his lips, savoring the lingering metallic tang of your blood. With a shuddering groan, he reluctantly retracted his fangs from your neck, his laudatory lick soothing the angry red imprint blooming on your pale skin. As he rose, he was already wearing his mask again, you didn't even notice when he put it back on.

His grip on your hip gentled only slightly as his other hand released your wrists, seeking instead to caress the slender column of your throat, now so horribly enticing with his claiming mark. He cupped your jaw tenderly and tilted your face towards him until his hidden gaze locked on you.

"Such a good girl," Doctor praised lowly. "Took your Doctor so well, sweetie... How are you feeling?"