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kissoulie · 1 month ago

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〔 sanguine 〕

a world in which haku shota has known you longer than you have known yourself.

read the teaser here.

pairing: vampire!shota x human!reader

wc: around 6k

genre: soulmates, forbidden romance, angst, SMUT, MDNI

warnings: murder, dubcon, blindfolding, there is a lot of angst, very slight breeding/crying, perpetuation of suicidal thoughts. if you are not in the headspace to read this, please don't. also pls forgive any small spelling/grammar mistakes!! the spelling might be regional the grammar is not LOL

a/n: day 4 of piwontober is here!!!!! this fic is honestly my baby 😭 i birthed this thing over the course of almost 20 days. the specific soulmate rules this steals from are from the otome game bewitching sinners. there is some other influence in this work, some you will most definitely recognize. special thank you to @strawberry-seob for beta reading this for me extremely last minute, you're a champ, my midnight brain thanks you for dealing with all my little mistakes. 🤍

in loving memory of juyogf/348kg.

(they didn't die they just got sussed </3)

Above all to protect you.

Although you don't know it, you are being watched. The night air is crisp, a subtle breeze ruffling your hair, while smoke billows from your mouth and nose. “One of life's finest coping mechanisms,” you sigh, your blond companion nodding in agreement.

And my favorite modern amenity, Shota chuckles, arm moving to wrap around your shoulders, “Right behind Tiktok doomscrolling.”

Warmth fills you, despite the air suddenly chilling, “Thank you for walking me home, Sho.”

Shota courted you—as he called it—his infatuation steady, exhilarating, even comforting at times. You couldn't deny he seemed… almost obsessed with you. He knew everything about you without much effort on his part.

“Any time, darling. I like knowing you're home safe.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, swiping your vape from you, “Plus, it means I get an extra half hour with the love of my life.”

If only, Shota blinks quickly, eyes narrowing at the figure just out of your view. “It's still really sweet of you, Sho. I love you.”

The weight of those words in his mind have him smiling without realizing it. Despite his touch being just slightly too rough, you're as relaxed as ever, his hands feeling familiar in ways your mind can't put its finger on. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches your follower staring him down. Right. He's been on this mission for far too long. Shota inhales deeply, “I love you too.”

Falling in love with Shota is like second nature to both of you. Over all spans of time, you fall for him harder and harder. He holds your hands in his with a tenderness familiar to you, yet new every time. His eyes are so earnest. They hold your gaze like a blanket, always observant, always full of a sadness you can't quite place. Shota resents that he's the only one who has to carry this knowledge.

“You haven't eaten in a while.” You stroke his hair. Your hands spread warmth like fire everywhere they touch. He tries his best to remain present, in the moment, but his mind strays.

“It's okay.” His eyes are so far away.

You reach out to him, your fingers entwining with his. And though you don't know why, a feeling of complete hopelessness washes over you when his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. You pick your brain for the right words to say, worried that blunt language will cause him to pull away.

“At least- have a little, it’ll clear your mind?”

He shakes his head, “I love you. I’ll be fine.”

“I love you too, Sho.”

Sometimes it isn't about the words, but about hearing them back.

Shota nuzzles his face into your neck. He inhales deeply. Your blood always smells so sweet to him. The way you relax into his touch breaks his heart. Hands find their way up your spine, across your waist, squeezing your flesh in short bursts.

“Take whatever you need from me.” You don't understand his hesitation. He's always precise with his feeding, never letting himself get past the point of a little hungry. You trust him, he trusts you. Or at the very least, you think he does.

“Are you sure?” Shota’s fangs hover above your jugular, your eyes shining in the dim lights of his apartment. This isn't the first time you have been here, and despite what he knows is about to happen, he's sure it won't be the last.

“I’m sure, I promise, please take what you need from me.” Your voice is almost needy. His nails dig into your sides, eyes squeezing shut. If only he could forget everything else but this moment. If only he could turn back the clock, and be your lifelong lover, instead of being the reason your life isn't long to begin with.

“I will, precious. I love you.”

There's an unfamiliar sting when his fangs dig into you. His eyes flutter closed, holding you to him like you might disappear. He swallows, thick with your life in his mouth.

Shota is thankful that the vampiric part of his brain turns off any part of him that views you as more than just prey. He is your hunter. Your executor. Your lifelong nemesis. He feels you begin to weakly thrash in his arms, a mere whisper of his name snapping him out of his stupor. I’m sorry, he swallows you whole.

I’m sorry.

Your body goes limp. Slowly, you become just like him: A corpse.

Love became greed and erased itself.

Shota’s eyes are closed, fist wrapped tightly around his length. In his mind's eye is your face. He hasn't had the privilege of seeing you when you cum, and that's what he imagines every time he gets off. He thinks of your eyes fluttering closed in pleasure, his name nothing more than a quiet cry, your body milking him for all he's worth.

He thinks of you in his apartment, begging him to take what he needs from you. Your eyes that shone so brightly whenever you saw him. But alas, he is home, and not in that dingy little apartment he keeps for you.

His high approaches quickly, wrist cramping with exertion, if only he knew how you would feel. If only he had you once, so he could keep the memory for all time.

“Shota, his majesty needs you!” Three sharp raps on his door signal Jongseob’s arrival.

“I’ll be there in a second!” he nearly growls, tossing the covers off and putting on some slacks. His hands flatten his hair, eyes flicking to his mirror to make sure he looks presentable. He adjusts his belt, hoping he doesn’t look freshly blue-balled, “Did he say what he wants?”

Jongseob’s face as the door swings open is all Shota needs to see. His face falls into a grimace.

“You know, you'd think after all this time whatever being does this would have mercy on her.” Jongseob has always had more empathy than his Majesty, despite being his younger brother. “I mean, being lured to slaughter in every life must take i-”

“Quiet,” Shota grumbles, pushing past his brother and swinging open the doors to the throne room. His capelet hugs his shoulders when he bows, “Your Majesty.”

“My most beloved brother, it's good to see you.” Theo sits with perfect posture, crown perched atop his auburn hair. He peers down at Shota with an air of entitlement; As if he's just a vessel, and not a faithful family member.

“Likewise, your majesty. The prince-” Theo cuts him off with a wave of his hand. His eyes are piercing in ways Shota will never understand, his power undeniable while in his presence.

“I’m sure you know what I need, Shota. Take care of it.”

“Can't we just-”, Shota clears his throat, stepping forward tentatively, “Turn her? I mean, it's been so many years, I just-”

Theo stares intently at his younger brother. His eyes are full of authority, of a disturbing finality.

“Don't be silly, brother. You will perform your duty.”

Where did that terrible curse come from?

Shota finds you with ease thanks to the bond he shares with Theo. That, and he’s been chasing your scent for so long he could recognize you anywhere. Tonight, he's trespassing at a concert he doesn't have a ticket for. He's thankful for his vampirism in this atmosphere: it makes you so easy to spot at the barricade. He snakes through the crowd, his eyes honed in on you; a true hunter stalking his prey. The opening dialogue he’s prepared for you two to have about the boy group on stage is fresh in his mind—but you turn to him, your eyes staring at him with an emotion he hasn't seen before; a rarity, for him. He opens his mouth.

Then you’re gone.

There was something on that boy's face. A certain millennium old sorrow that you shouldn't be able to recognize. It’s etched into your mind, that beautiful face of his. You remember the silliest things, like his teeth, that he's your age, his roots were grown out. Clearly, you’re just lonely. But maybe—and only maybe—there’s something about him. An old soul, perhaps. Your thoughts are infested with him. So much so, that it’s a miracle you look up from your phone long enough to spot him on your train. Was this your fated love?

Has the universe finally shown mercy on your poor, lonely self?

You cast many nervous glances at the boy, who seems disgruntled. He’s bundled up in many layers to compensate for the incoming nor’easter, the visible part of his cheeks stained pink. It’s time to be brave.

Who inflicted this cruel punishment?

Shota sits bundled up on the subway. He's all too familiar with the route you take, electing to disguise himself so perhaps… you won't walk away from him again. Ever since your last encounter, the heart he never knew he had has been hurting him. He lies awake at night, unable to rest, thinking of the look on your face when you saw him. After much pondering, he realized he knew that expression: fear. It’s been so long since you feared him.

“Can I sit here?”

He's scared it's all a dream. Your smiling face, encased by a halo of fluorescent train lights. A lesser man wouldn't think of you as an angel.

“Ah, yes, of course-” He fumbles to scoot over just a tad, so you don't have to press yourself into him to sit with him.

“You're really pretty.” Your face lights up into the smile he's missed so dearly. Even though you come back changed in every life, your smile is always the same to him. “Sorry! That’s probably weird to hear, I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

“Thank you, um, your smile-” The flush that tints his cheeks is foreign to him. Shota feels almost… excited. What’s happening is a gift from the gods. Your puppylike tendencies bleed through the walls he’s built since he last held you. When he gets off the subway, he finds himself walking with newfound purpose. Your number is scrawled onto his palm.

The fate that I devoted my life to; How could I forget?

Empty. Is there anything in Haku Shota’s life that is fully under his control? Is there even one instance where he isn't at the beck and call of another?

It makes him mean, to be so out of his own control. To wake up every day, and only be awake to the detriment of someone else. It’s slowly rotting away at his soul.

Not that there's much left of his soul, anyway.

And maybe Jongseob was the boy who saved his life, as well as the boy he still protected with his life. But Shota finds no enjoyment in this groundhog day he's found himself in. He curls in on himself, his mind racing. Everything is so loud.

Many days, he hopes he will finally be put out of his misery. His heart is twisting, turning, writhing, a mass of muscle and taut tissue, his lungs contracting and constricting, airways tight, so small he feels like he can’t even swallow his saliva, which is so thick and heavy in his mouth — if he could just breathe.

He grits his teeth, thoughts moving so fast he doesn't remember what he’s supposed to be—just that he is. His eyes are closed, shutting out another sense to keep up with, his whole body pulled tight with emotion like a marionette at the whims of his own consciousness.

Twitching. He can feel his body twitching every few seconds, uncontrollable and minute. He is in his head. With every thought that races through, one keeps looping as if desperate to be heard and to be seen: I don’t belong, I’m not happy.

A terrible oversimplification of his current plight, the thought manages to ease the onslaught of activity, condensing his thoughts down to his emotions. Does he feel anything? Has the numbness faded, causing him to stumble?

Trials and tribulations are commonplace for any person of his age, though certain anomalies of the mind can alter even the most simplistic emotion into a monster of its own merit.

Perhaps, this life isn’t meant for him.

It has made him happy. He has been good, and loved. He is good and loved.

But it isn’t for him. He can’t feel anything at all. Most of the time, he’s apathetic, with exception to sharp bursts of emotions. This isn’t a life he wants to live.

(He wants to live for you.)

Doomed. That is how he feels. The perfect descriptor for someone as cynical and apathetic as him.

The feeling leaves his mouth bitter, a smile displaying his outermost wants. It’s alarmingly easy to fake it. His own happiness is nothing but a facade. To him or to everyone?

Much of the time, being left to his own thoughts and opinions is what coerces his most vulnerable emotions out. It discomforts him, feeling the things he tries so hard to hide bubble up to the surface in undeniable agony. His heart, once hidden, emerges from its cocoon to try and blossom again.

If only.

But life is much more complex than these feelings of inadequacy. Even if he doesn't believe it.

“Pull yourself together, Shota.” Jongseob’s voice echoes in his empty apartment. He didn’t know who else to call.

“I wish I could feel normal again,” Shota whispers into the phone. He feels white hot shame course through him, and he regrets saying anything at all.

“If you felt normal, we wouldn't still be friends.” He laughs. Shota wonders how his friend could feel so light.

“Maybe we would be, but I’d be dead.” Dead might be better than this.

A forlorn silence falls over his room after he hangs up on his best friend. He closes his eyes, all of his memories a watercolor sketch of emotions. He has to end things between you two.

Your blood is still warm when he wipes it off his chin with a handkerchief. He knows Keeho will be there at any moment to clean everything up for him, and then Theo will want to celebrate. The cold air bites at Shota’s cheeks. It's like the universe is punishing him for his act of unkindness. He stuffs his hands in his coat pockets. When did I put on a coat?

There's one orange street lamp on his block. Did I ever notice how her smile was like the sun?

A car speeds by him dangerously close, the occupants seeming to watch him. Do I love her?

His phone lights up, a cheerful ringtone startling him. They don't have to know where I’m staying tonight.

The aftermath is always the worst part.

“Sorry, my roommate has a strict no boys policy.” You laugh, praying he buys the excuse. Really, it's not that Intak won't let you spend alone time with boys; it's that he won't let you spend alone time with this boy. Something about a bad vibe.

“I miss you,” he coughs, “When we aren't together, I miss you.”

Your stomach does a little summersault. A pretty boy misses you when you aren't with him.

“I’ll.. talk to him, maybe he'll relent because we're just friends-”

“I want to be more. Than just friends, with you.” Shota gauges your reaction for 30 long and agonizing seconds. He watches the cogs turn in your brain, realization setting in. Then, there's that beautiful smile of yours. If only he could feel this warm all the time.

“Oh thank god, I thought I was just delusional!” Your fingers entwine with his, and a flash of something akin to recognition passes across your face.

Convincing Intak to let Shota over was an ordeal you were sufficiently blindsided by. Perhaps there was more to the story of why he doesn't want you with him, but if he won't tell you… it's no longer your concern.

That's what you tell yourself when you sneak the boy into your room, anyways. You feel completely safe with him. Completely at ease. So much so, that when he lays you back on your bed, dick heavy between your thighs; you relax and let him have his way with you.

“Have you ever done this before?” His voice is soft. His hands caress your body with reverence.

You shake your head. You feel his fingers slowly drag up your thigh, his body pushing your legs apart with his descent between your thighs.

“Gonna prep you, it'll feel good.” He presses a quick kiss to your clit over your panties. He takes his sweet time ridding you of them, sucking and licking at your clit. A sharp pain has your eyes snapping open.

“Sho, hurts.”

He soothes it with a kiss, murmuring ‘good girl’ into your cunt. He looks at you from beneath his lashes for approval.

“Shota, your eyes-” You gasp out, hands tugging impatiently on his hair. His tongue pokes slightly out of his mouth, chin covered in slick.

“Don't worry about it, baby,” he mumbles into your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses right back to where you needed him most.

“No- Sho-” You try to push him away, but his hands grab yours, “Quiet.”

He hums into your clit, pressing his fingers in to curl right up into that spot you love so much.

“Sho, stop-” The pitch of your voice is electric. The stuff of dreams, for him.

“No. You will cum for me.” His ministrations get more aggressive, more motivated. He sucks on your clit far too painfully for your liking, but it only gets you closer.

“Sho- Shota, fuck-” His eyes lock onto yours as you cum all over his face, before your head lolls back, lungs gasping for air.

He holds you close to him after, pressing gentle kisses all over your exposed chest and neck. He mumbles something you don't quite catch between the blood rush in your ears. All you can think about is how safe you feel with him. And maybe, there's a little voice in the back of your head that says you love him.

“Don't do that to me again,” you whine, clinging to him in the afterglow of your orgasm, “You really scared me for a sec.”

“Sorry, precious. I get a little mean when I’m desperate.” His voice is a pitch lower than usual, and it sends heat back between your thighs. He's still hard against you.

“Don't bite your lip at me like that,” he groans, manhandling you into his lap, “You're the one who said to stop, baby.”

His eyes are heady, dilated with lust. It's a gaze that has you stricken. The only reply you can muster comes out as a soft whine, “Just- make love to me, Sho.”

Fate is in my hands again.

You try to brush off the undeniable red you saw in your lover’s eyes a mere 3 weeks ago. He sneaks into your shared apartment far too many times, just to kiss on you and love on you. It's almost as if the sorrowful boy you met in the park all those months ago has been replaced by someone… happier.

The months fly by between the two of you, and even Intak seems to warm up to the idea of Shota sticking around. (Yes, there were many long nights of bickering when he found out you were sneaking him in.)

“Shota, I’m not so sure.” Black silk is cool against your eyelids—one of your boyfriend's many ideas to spice up your private time.

“It'll be okay, baby. Trust me.” He kisses your lips, then your cheeks, then your nose. You feel the bed dip with his weight, his eternally cold body pressing against your own.

“I trust you,” you breathe out, his lips ghosting against your own. You feel a sharp prick by your collarbone, followed by his tongue. “Soul?”

That blessed nickname you've given him. Your heart and Soul.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here.”

There's emphasis on dialogue in your sex life. At Shota’s insistence, of course. He loves listening to you whine and cry for him.

You're confused. Left completely in the dark, until you feel his dick dragging through your sticky folds. Without prep? Is the only question in your head, feeling the throb of him. You need him so badly.

“Sho-” you gasp out.

“I’ve got you.”

Right. He's got you. Always.

His hand wraps around your neck, applying light pressure just to test. Just to see where your limits are.

“N-No, Sho-” You weakly grab at him, not fussing, but still trying to pull him off of you. He feels your wrist go slack when he angles his hips up at just the right spot.

“You go so dumb for me so easily, precious.” Shota whimpers. His mouth falls open, eyes going hazy with pleasure, “Christ, I’m gonna cum.”

“Inside, please.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him ever deeper. You feel so good he can hardly breathe, squeezing around him like a vice. He's embarrassed by how quickly he always cums with you, but you never seem to mind. Afterwards you're always smug, teasing, almost mean.

“Okay, baby, anything for you.” He breathes out, thumbing at your clit. He tries to pick up the pace, but the grip you have on him is too tight, so he settles for grinding into your precious cunt.

“I love you, Shota, I love you.” You cry, kicking and shaking with pleasure, your whole body convulsing. He moans your name in a tone that's downright debaucherous. He's nestled so deep inside you, hand pushing your leg up further. He feels himself hit a wall within you, and you let out a sob. “Sorry, sorry, fuck.”

I grew up in an eternity that will soon belong to you.

The ways in which Shota loves you are carnal. All this time, he's viewed the countless years upon years you've spent together as something out of his control. When really, he has all the control. All the power. Shota decides that in this life, the only way to keep you alive is to sever his proximity to you. The only way to protect you, as he so dearly desires, is for him to disappear. Watch over from afar. Maybe then, Theo won't hunt you like an animal.

But he knows it's nothing more than a pipedream. And in disobeying his king, there's more than just a high probability that he'll never see you again. All these years spent pining after you, chasing you down, getting to know every version of you the universe has to offer; and he will finally die. He will finally get what he's always wanted, as is the price for your life.

May 25th, 1967

Feelings grow, morph, and change overtime. What was initially anxiousness at the thought of us talking has turned into anticipation. I hope we will meet again. I can prepare, but I will not remember. I can pretend to shield my emotions, but it's too late. I like you, plain and simple. I like you. I cannot wax poetic like this, I simply like you. You are a small comfort, a being I can rely on, someone I want to cherish and savor like fine wine. I think about arguments, and fierce letters, and sharp kisses and bites. I think about a confession on your lips, late nights by candlelight spent sitting too close for just enemies, just friends, just anything. I think about bringing you trinkets, books, scraps of literature I cannot admit to writing myself. I think about cooking together and laughing together. I think about how awful your cooking could be, and eating it all anyways because you made it for me. I think about reading together in silence, waking up to leaning against you, something you might never let me do. I like you. I cannot stand it. I ache for you to the point of nausea; mere words will not encompass it. I’m learning you, and tracing my fingers along the ridges of your soul again and again and again. It inspires hunger, insatiable hunger, blunt teeth tearing through threads of time and storing them in the maw, savoring them; Swirling them around, feeling each individual thread snap and break, swallowing even as the ends scratch my throat, and swallowing some more, asking for more, needing more to remember to reread to rethink to reanalyze to cherish and destroy and love and hate and hunger for more always more never less always enough never full. The hunger subdues, declines, takes its teeth out of me but not its claws, always threatening, always wanting. Wanting, wanting, wanting like it deserves to. I want to avoid, not be a moth drawn to flame, drawn to certain death, I want to allow myself to stop thinking stop being stop wanting but the need grows the want grows the anticipation and desire to connect and to be it fills and snakes and squeezes my heart and– I need to be restrained and unwanting and alone again so I cannot feel anything or anyone. So I cannot taste the breeze, the ashes, the sea, the stars. If only to feel you, and to feel you on the curve of the wind's fingers, caressing and cooling and soothing and peaceful. I wish that peace was me and I was peace but the feeling of duty, of punishment, of praise, it requires chaos, it requires not a moment of simple and singular silence. In you I feel silence, I become silence, I conform, I become too much, I feel nothing, I feel everything—I want you. And this wretched heart won't let me stop. Every time I open my eyes I'm attacked with memories of you, ghosts of love and adoration flipping through my eyes in seconds and I just feel you as my breath and my echo, the words I speak, and the air I breathe. I can feel you in my hands, in my laugh, in everything I do. You are my world, my lover, my friend, the nostalgia in my tea and the memories I have yet to make everything, everything always you. Even now I can't untangle the cord of our souls, what are the chances you remember? Very little, I'm afraid. I will never speak to you of this—I don't want to, and I'm scared, but my gods—if I would not tear down the heavens for you, then love is just a concept. I would still become destroyer of the heavens, hell's purveyor of punishment, all if it, if only for you.

Shota

October 31st, 1992

The problem is that I want to be wanted too, so what am I doing so wrong? I find it hard to form lasting connections as quickly as others, am I just not enough? What makes me so inadequate? What makes me so wrong?

Why can’t I love and be loved as others are? Why is that so hard? I’ve always struggled with connecting with people. Something about my humanness, or lack thereof. One of my favorite quotes is this: “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I know I don’t deserve much, but that’s… Not necessarily the problem here. How can I accept love I’m not given? How is it that people who’re supposed to have a strong bond with me, bond with other people more? Am I simply unlovable?

What mark is there that ties me to them? If one of us leaves, our connection is simply lost to the wind. I suppose the ephemeral nature of my existence bleeds out into my relationships. I suppose that is the “wrong” within me.

I miss you. You are in the moon that washes over me. You are in every tender morning. You are in the weeds I uproot. You are bamboo, invasive to my land. You are in everything I am.

Thank you for listening. I know you always will.

Shota

December 25th, 2016

Everything that is "mine" has been stripped away from me.

People are

a hand

a heart

a hundred little things

slipping, just out of reach

away

Kind regards,

Shota

February 15th, 2023

My life and love have lost their luster.

and I, my gilded glow.

My darling is made of stars.

My darling cannot see me from afar.

For what separates the stars from the Earth?

What stops them from moving ever closer, ever nearer, from loving the land below?

Death, my dear heart.

The stars we see are dead,

and thus

I, too, am loving a dead thing.

You wouldn't like the person I've become. And I won't blame you. I don't like who I've become either.

Sincerely yours,

Shota

January 19th, 2024

I have much to say, yet no way to say it properly. I guess I will start with something I will never say again: I miss you.

My feelings alone are not enough to be the catalyst of a relationship, yet when I think about the few sweet words you’ve gifted to me I consider it may be enough.

I know you. And truly, the more I think I do, the more I’m aware I don’t. I wonder what kind of person would steal your heart. Someone with gentle hands, soft words, the epitome of kindness? Yet cruel in their own way, when provoked? I am nothing like that. The jagged edges of my splintered heart are just that; jagged edges. I am not callous, but at times I find myself wanting to be what people believe me to be. That is to say, I want to become an unthinkable beast.

Unthinkable beasts don’t cry for a lover they’ve never had though, do they.

The thought of you arouses such anguish within me, my heart. I think you would despise this pet name. My heart, my heart, my poor, beating heart. Bitter blue, dancing flame, stormy rose. You get prettier as you age. Like a fine wine, or an expensive cologne.

It’s not that I haven’t thought of you as a lover, but that I haven’t allowed myself to. It hurts. Worse than I believed it would.

It hurts. It really does. I don’t even know why anymore. Is it because I am unloved by you? Is it because I’m scared of truly losing you? Am I so selfish that I want you back with no regard for your safety? I am, and I am not. I wish I could distract myself from you again.

I want to be with you. I want to love you without doubt. I want to think of you and crave your presence without hurt. I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you.

Humans are such complex little creatures. Somehow, after reading all of Shota’s letters, you're more determined than ever to love him. His letters, his final gift of closure to you, they infuriate you.

Who is he to decide your fate?

Who is he to decide you're better off without him around?

It's a gut feeling that has you running to his apartment. Your chest aches from the cold air and exertion. Your feet only carry you faster. You've never had a soulmate.

Across all those decades, you've never known what it's like. You were never able to understand the nauseating love others feel for someone else. You fell in love, but you never felt in love.

Not until Shota.

You knew from the start: For you, there was only ever him. There is no soul more perfect, no heart more understanding—it is him for you. You pray to whatever god exists that he's still in Seoul.

Your hands shake while you fumble with the set of keys he gave you. The lock clicks, and you burst through, hoping to find a light on.

But all that remains is silence. Cold and daunting.

You let out a hollow laugh to yourself. Tears prick the corners of your vision, then a scream bubbles up and into the back of your throat.

A pair of glowing red eyes stare back at you.

Unlike your beloved’s eyes, that always adored you, these eyes are callous. They pierce through your very soul.

There's an imperceptible flinch on their end that has you stumbling back slowly. Your heart thrums violently in your ears, begging you to turn back, begging you to move or do anything to fight against your now oncoming demise.

“He made a mistake.” It breathes in your direction, moonlight streaming through an open window.

You take a small step back, and it takes one forward.

“I am here to fix it.”

It lunges forward, hands snaking around your throat, smashing your head onto the tile below.

“Shota!”

In your freshly fogged brain, all you can think of is him.

He loves you.

He'll come.

“Shota, help!”

There's a deep throbbing in your chest. A fear stronger than your own grips you, your body finally listening and fighting for you. Black dots line your vision, your lungs burning in an agonizing pain you know to associate with death.

And then the pressure is gone.

“I'm not good at this whole emotions thing.” A steady beeping sound fills the sterile room where you lay.

“I don't even know where to begin telling you everything that's happened,” Shota swallows down his anxiety, warmth blooming in his chest. Your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“I should come clean to you.” Your voice has a rasp to it, throat completely dry from your days asleep, “I haven't been entirely honest.”

Your stare bores through him like acid. He feels your heart rate pick up before modern technology even dares.

“I… I’ve been seeing things. Myself. I don't know when it started, but shortly after I met you, she started appearing- first just occasionally, then the closer we got, the more I saw her. And then I started having these weird dreams about you… they felt like memories. I thought I was going crazy.

Shota, my whole life I’ve felt like no one would ever love me. Everyone had their soulmate, and I had no one. My parents didn't love me, I had trouble making friends, I felt no drive to ever… be anyone. And then I met you. You just got me. I finally thought: I don't need a soulmate. You never mentioned anything about a soulmate, you didn't seem interested at all—and then one day it just clicked. I felt like you were a part of me.

That night, when I went to your apartment, it was her. Me? I’m not sure, but she has my face. I still don't…”

You blink back tears. Shota holds your shaking hands in his. There's the boy you fell in love with. Soft hands, slow movements, love you've never felt with anyone else.

“Your soulmate is- Sorry, was, my brother. We're not related by blood, but by a familial bond forged when we were both children. I don't expect you to know anything about vampires, or what happens when they're soulmates with a human, but when a vampire is soulmates with a human they become mortal from the moment the two meet. Theo fought for many, many years to become the vampire king. He led wars, lost almost his entire family, and became the ‘monster’ he is today. I am of the opinion that he always envisioned a soulmate as powerful as him. And when he first saw you all those years ago, he didn't see the strength within you—only the vessel. I- I don't wanna get into it still, I’m not ready, but- when I was younger, I hated you. To me, you were just another obstacle in Theo’s way. He wanted you gone. My best friend was the one who would've done it if I didn't. I don't know what happened, you read the letters, I fell. I fell for you.”

“Somewhere along the way, I think I fell for you too.” Your voice is as quiet as a pin drop. He looks at you, warmth and something else just beyond his soulful eyes. His lips curl into a beautiful smile, the first you've seen in this lifetime.

It's my fate

To dedicate myself to you.

taglist: @tkooooop, @haolovre, @jiungsdaisy, @jmclouds

#piwontober24 #p1harmony smut #haku shota smut #haku shota x reader #haku shota

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ddejavvu · 11 months ago

Note

this idea came to me when I wanted to go to bed so imagine bradley at the hard deck wearing his usual hawaiian shirts and he bumps into a girl in a dress with the exact same design as his shirt like it's fate😭 and then after they start dating they always match🥹

THIS IS SO CUTE ??

The material that Bradley's hand brushes against is soft, but he doesn't pay much attention to it until he can see it. He stops in his tracks, offering you a sincere, "Sorry," when he's jostled from his left and rams into you on his right. You turn to glance at him over your shoulder, and you register each others' outfits at the same time, all owlish blinks and hitched breaths.

Bradley speaks first, a murmured, 'Oh-' but you're hot on his trail, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips.

You're wearing the same thing.

Bradley's sporting a faded old Hawaiian shirt, but it's unmistakably the same patterned fabric that your dress is made from. The green on his shirt was a lot brighter when he'd plucked it out of his dad's closet almost ten years ago, but yours is more vibrant, reminding him of a photo of him and his dad that lays in the drawer of his nightstand.

"I like your shirt," You grin at him, and he wonders if the glimmer in your eyes is always there, or only when you've got a drink in hand. It's pretty, he thinks, he hopes it's not temporary.

"I like your dress," He teases, swallowing what he doesn't want to admit is the beginnings of a lump in his throat, "Where'd you get it?"

"I found it at a thrift shop," You admit, reaching out to tug at the open panel of his shirt, "What about you?"

"It was my dad's," He grins, taking one step closer to you so that you're not so much reaching out for him as you are reaching up, "If he'd known there was a matching dress, he would have bought one for my mom."

"That's sweet!" You gush, and he notices whether you want him to or not, that you haven't let go of his shirt yet, "I like it when husbands match with their wives, I think it makes a good man."

"-And that's- that's why he's got that dumbass tie on," Fanboy concludes, words coming out slurred with laughter, "'Cause- cause three years ago she said it'd make him a good man."

"It's not dumb," Bob pipes up with a kind smile, eyeing Bradley's tie and your matching hair tie, a scrunchie made from the same fabric. You'd had to sacrifice your dress to fashion your accessories, but you're wearing maternity clothing now, and you likely won't be able to fit into it afterwards, anyways. It's a thing of the past, but you'd thought it unbearable not to incorporate the reason you'd gotten together with Bradley in the first place into your wedding.

"I don't care if he thinks it's dumb," Bradley drawls, his hand growing clammy from where it's been clutching yours beneath the table for almost an hour now, though he makes no move to break the embrace, "He thinks deodorant is dumb, too, and I can smell him from here."

"I'd watch what you say, Fanboy," Phoenix warns, "They made a onesie for the baby out of that dress, too, and if you keep running your mouth they might not let you hold her."

"He's not gettin' a chance to hold her anyways," Jake vows, "Kid's gonna love me so much she won't want me to put her down."

"You usually have the opposite effect on women," Bradley reminds him, "But the only ones I'll trust to hold her are Phoenix and Bob."

"No fair! I've got nieces and nephews," Jake protests, slightly more invested than normal thanks to the wine he's been nursing, his cheeks growing rosy with each sip, "I'm great with 'em."

"You throw those kids around like they're basketballs," Bradley scoffs, "And I'm not letting you give my baby brain damage, Hangman. I've gotta make sure she's smarter than you."

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th3lovely1 · 6 months ago

Text

The Other Woman

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Paige Bueckers x Reader

- Having feelings for your best friend was hard. Especially since there's a new woman every week that she talks about. Not feeling good enough for Paige, you start to distance yourself from her, and not surprisingly, she notices.

- Friends to lovers (Paige always had feelings but was in hella denial)

- They makeout🤷‍♀️

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Here we go again. Paige talking about her new girl for the week. What's her name again? Tammy? Rebecca? Honestly, You've given up on remembering the names she brings up.

"Damn, she was that good, bro?" Azzi grins at Paige. Paige nods her head with a smirk, "Yeah hell man.". You do my best to ignore their conversation as you try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

The final straw is when Paige starts going into details again about her fling. "Hey guys" You say, getting their attention. The two stop talking as they look at you, Paige's smirk turns into a soft smile.

You put an arm over your stomach, "I'm not feeling too good," a small grimace appears on your face. "I'm gonna lay down for a bit.". You don't wait for them to reply as you walk away, not noticing Paiges concerned gaze following you.

This hasn't been the first time you've unexpectedly left like that. Paige has only started noticing it recently, but yet she hasn't figured out why you've been acting this way.

Was someone bothering you? Or maybe it was her? It made her uneasy to think it was the latter. You're her best friend, and as hard as it is to deny it, she loves you. More than she thought she would.

All these girls she talks about are just distractions from you, thinking that maybe if she found someone similar enough, she wouldn't have to worry about confessing to you. But no matter how hard she tries, it's never enough. No one could replace you, and no one ever will.

A nudge from Azzi is what gets Paige out of her head. "You good, Paige? I've said your name like twice. ". Paige doesn't know what to tell her. She was afraid to speak the truth, yet she knew that Azzi would be able to tell if she was lying. "Is it Y/n?" Azzi asks the blonde, raising a brow even though she already knew it was.

It was no secret that you and Paige had some sort of feelings for one another. The longing glances, the hugs that lasted just a bit too long, and the terrible attempt at flirting but mostly from Paige.

Paige looks at Azzi and attempts a chuckle, "What? Why would it be her?". Azzi crosses her arms and gives a 'really?' look. Paige sighs and puts her head in her hands. Giving in and finally confessing, she says, "Yeah...yeah it's her.". "You know, if you like her so much you should just tell her. It's not like everyone except her knows already," Azzi replies with a shurg as if stating the obvious.

Surprised, Paige turns to Azzi. "You guys -" she begins raising her voice before quieting down, remembering that you were in the other room. There was no way that she'd want you to hear about any of this. "You guys knew and didn't say anything?" she practically whispers.

"Yeah, like everyone knew, Paige. You weren't that discreet," Azzi tells her, "We're just haven't said anything cause we figured it wouldn't take long for something happen, but clearly we were wrong.".

Paige groans, "I just don't know what to say to her, man. Every time I look or talk to her, I always overthink it. I keep on thinking that she doesn't want me or some crap like that.". She meant every word. Any time she'd come up to you to flirt or just talk, she'd overthink any little thing she'd say. For some reason she always thought that you were too good for her.

So obviously, being the young adult she is, she decided to meet other people. But that didn't help at all as it only made her realize just how much she loved you. You were all she ever thanked about, in her mind 24/7. Anything she looked at reminded her of you in some way.

"I know it's easier to say and do, but you just gotta be straight up with her," Azzi replies, "You overthink it too much, then it'll never happen.". "You're right, you're right. It's just..." Paige stops as she tries her best to think. She's too stuck in her mind to even think about how she should talk to you.

Azzi puts a hand on Paiges shoulder, "Hey, you got this.". She softly rubs it before getting up and grabbing her stuff. Paige looks at her confused before she tells her, "I'm gonna go so you two can talk. The both of you really need it.".

Azzi doesn't wait for a response as she walks out the door, leaving Paige and you behind to finally talk to one another.

Paige sits there in silence as she wonders about the two of you. So many good memories and moments could be thrown away if this all went wrong. Her knee bounced uncontrollably as she started to pick at her hands, something that she always did when nervous, something that you were always there for.

Azzi was right, though. Hyping herself up, Paige gets up from the seat and walks to your room. Her heart beating out of her chest and her hands shaking. She hesitates to knock on your door, her nerves almost getting the better of her.

You open the door. Your eyes are red, and your noise is runny. You look away from Paige as you try to fix the birds nest on your hair. It's not like she'd care anyway. She'd still think you're beautiful, no matter what. She reaches a hand out to comfort you but stops herself from doing so. An action that didn't come unnoticed by you.

Her voice is soft as she asks, "You okay?". Obviously, something was up, and Paige had a good idea of what it was. "You can tell me anything you know?".

"I just -" you begin, the words were at the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn't get them out. Instead, you sigh and gesture towards your room, "Come in.". Paige sits down on the bed, her knee bouncing again. "Um...can I talk you?".

You softly chuckle and smile as you sit next to her. "You already are, but go ahead.". Paige fiddles with her hands, not looking at you. "I...uh," she starts to stammer. You put a hand over hers for comfort and bend down to look in her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe.".

If only it was that easy, Paige thought. You took her breath practically doing anything. Even just looking at you had her chest tightening and her heart beating fast. Paige takes a deep breath and exhales. Her grip has tightened on your hand and her knee has stopped shaking.

"I like you, like a lot. Who the fuck am I kidding? I love you at this point.". Your jaw drops as you listen to her. Paige, the girl who you loved for what felt like forever, loves you. It's almost hard to believe. "But what about the other women? The people you've been seeing?".

Paige looks at you with love and sincerity in her eyes. "I've always loved you. I-I know it may be hard to believe, but I truly do. Those other people were just a distraction.". She looks away from you, almost ashamed of herself. "I couldn't face the fact that I felt so much for it. I couldn't understand it...I didn't know what to do.".

You turn Paige to look at you. "I love you too, Paige. I understand that love can be a lot, and it's okay to not know what to do.". You start to play with her hair as you continue. "I will admit that it did hurt seeing you with them, but I'm glad that you feel the same.".

Paige rests her head on your shoulder and wraps her arm around your waist. Your shoulder becoming wet from her tears. "I'm so so sorry for hurting you like that. I know it was stupid of me and-". "Hey, hey," you soothe her, rubbing her back. "That's all in the past now, don't worry about it. I forgive you.".

She removes herself from your shoulder and sniffles. "Really?" she asks, seeming surprised at your forgiveness. She knee that if it was her, it'd take some time for something like that. She knew what she did was crappy but she really didn't know how to deal with how she felt. She would never use that as an excuse though, especially with you.

You nod with a warm smile, "Mhm.". She wraps her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "Thank you," she says with relief. You hug her back, "I love you too much to just leave you like that.". The both of you chuckle.

When Paige moves back, it suddenly feels like she's closer than before. Tension rises in the air as the both of you slowly lean in, looking deep into each other's eyes.

Paige moves a piece of hair behind your ear and cups your face as you rest a hand on her waist. Finally, your lips meet. Months of longing are poured into it as your hands move along her body. The kiss only deepens when Paige starts to lay you back against the bed, pushing her body onto yours.

Her hand moves along your thigh and pulls you closer to her before moving to your waist as she starts to move your shirt up. You move your hips against hers and just as she starts to take your shirt of your door abruptly opens.

Kk comes barging in yelling, "Hey guys!". But she stops once she notices the two of you. "Oh shit! I knew it!" she grins and starts to laugh. Nika and Azzi are behind her and join in the laughter when they see you guys. "Seee, I told y'all it was gonna happen!" Azzi says.

Paige hurriedly pulls your shirt back down and moves off of you, her cheeks almost bright red. "Man, can you guys get out!". She moves an arm at them to move out. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get out" Nika tells her, starting to walk away. Azzi follows behind her and giggles are heard from the two.

"We'll leave you love birds alone," Kk says, raising her brows before closing the door behind her. You put your hands over your face, "That was so embarrassing!". Paige moves your hands away with a soft laugh. "It's fine, baby," she tells you, shrugging her shoulders, "Could've been worse.".

You hit her shoulder, "Paige!". "Okay! Okay!" she laughs, moving to lay next to you. You laugh with her, "You are so immature.". "You love it," she says with a grin. You softly kiss her and reply with a small smile, "Of course I do.".

♡♡♡

Hope y'all liked this😗. I haven't written something in a while. Also Paige is so pretty🤭🤭

#x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige buekers fluff #friends to lovers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #azzi fudd #kk arnold #nika muhl #lesbian #wlw #wlw yearning #wlw post #wbb #i love women #they kiss

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shirakow · 7 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ꒰ summary ꒱ ; he wanted to practice kissing with you .

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍇 pair ⋅ ˚✮ ; Rody Lamoree x GN!reader . College AU pre dp

. . . words ; 1.2k+

WARNINGS ! semi-nsfw, like one mention of addiction, whiney rody, and also no genitals or gendered terms used !

⁺ ⛧ ; i made this instead of continuing to make my reviewer for like 5 tests tomorrow. Someone wish me luck and maybe I'll pop out another vincent x reader by saturday ^3^ love you guys endlessly . Also made this while listening to the an evening with silk sonic album. Def worked for motivation

"Please?" Rody begged on his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading you for help as he clasped his hands together in a praying manner like you were his God.

You could only sigh and shake your head, "Fine. I'll practice kissing you." You murmured a bit shyly. Despite being incredibly against the idea —not that you would mind—you were just nervous because Rody was literally asking you to kiss him.

Actually, the term he used was make out but that's too embarrassing to think about.

It hit you in the wrong way because you were best friends, that's all you've ever thought of him. Sure you were glad he was comfortable enough to ask you for tips on this, but hands on teaching? Consider yourself fucked!

Perhaps there were lingering feelings in the back of your head that you never paid any mind to as you were never this nervous for a damn kiss.

Rody's eyes immediately lit up at the agreement, even if a bit hesitant. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he tackled you into a hug, pushing you down on the couch with his full weight flush against yours.

You smacked the back of his head multiple times to get him off before he could crush you, which he did thankfully. The two of you sat faced to face, the way Rody twiddled with his fingers did not go unnoticed by your keen eyes.

"If you're nervous, you could just back out now while we still haven't done anything." Who were you kidding? By the looks of it you were even more nervous than him! By the way your feet couldn't help but bounce itself on the ground whilst you anxiously waited for his answer.

"I'm not nervous! I'm just embarrassed..."

"Same thing you nut job." You quipped with a sigh.

"Just, come on." If he wasn't gonna initiate it, then you'll do it. You could tell how much this meant to Rody, or else he wouldn't have asked you in the first place.

Because if there was one thing that Rody hated in the world aside from cleaning: it was to burden others. Besides, he's done so much for you in the past, it's only right you pay him back even if with a mere peck on the lips.

You scooted closer to Rody, your knees brushing against one another as you placed your hands on his chest. He looked down at you with his blush growing more prominent, yet you only did nothing but stare at him. "W-What're you looking at?" The almighty Rody Lamoree stuttered.

"Backing out?" You teased with a small chuckle. A grumbled curse erupted from his throat and before you knew it, his lips were against yours.

Well that was surprising.

They were soft, tentative, and more importantly: incredibly gentle. It was like he was trying to learn for his own gain but prioritizing your comfort at the same time, which was quite lovely if you do say so yourself.

Your hands on his chest moved up to caress his jaw, then his neck, then his cheek, and finally his hair which earned an unexpected whine from Rody. You fought back a smile that threatened to form on your face at the sound, and he could easily tell as your lips were connected after all.

Rody mumbled a quiet 'shut up' that was immediately drowned out when he kissed you deeper. But you noticed it was too sloppy. This caused you to pull away slightly, leaving only an inch between your lips that Rody fought to keep closed by the way he chased after you.

You put a finger against his plush lips which in turn earned another whine from the male in front of you. "Calm down big guy... Don't rush, or else you'll chase away the person you're pining for." You whispered breathlessly, and Rody pursed his bottom lip out like a pleading dog.

"I'll... I'll try..." He grumbled as you put your hand back down to his shoulder. Rody pressed his lips against yours once more, starting off slow, and gradually growing deeper like you instructed him to.

He grazed his teeth against your bottom lip, the feeling making your breath hitch. Noticing your reaction, Rody decided to tread the waters and gently bit your lip, before pulling on it while maintaining hazy eye contact.

"Sorry... Just wanted you to open your eyes and look at me while I kiss you..." Rody said in a raspy voice as his blush deepened. You hadn't even noticed that you closed your eyes, you were too busy feeling him to feel your own sight go away for just a split second.

He was starting to get the hang of it, that's for sure.

Rody's calloused hands finally found somewhere to put themselves on and that being your hips, which he then pulled onto his lap as he leaned back on the couch; his thumbs gently caressing and rubbing circles under your shirt.

You just let him do what he want, this was all just for practice anyway, right?

"Can I..." Rody trailed off as he pulled away, his face flush and mouth agape—gasping for breath. You could only imagine what you looked like right now if he was this disheveled already. "... Can I french kiss you?" Rody bit his bottom lip as he thumbed at yours.

"Wouldn't this already be considered a french kiss?" You chuckled at your pun.

Rody rolled his eyes and let out a breath that you could only guess resembled a laugh. "Yes or no is all I wanna hear... Please?" He quietly begged you, staring up at you with his pretty green eyes that were lidded from all the kissing.

"That's all you wanna hear?" Another groan from him. "You're insufferable..." He used his hand to part your lips as he stuck the tip of his tongue out, before suddenly pulling you down and shoved his tongue inside your mouth.

It made you gasp against his lips, but you leaned into it invitingly. You placed your hands on his shoulders for support as he explored every inch of you.

For someone claiming he hasn't made out with someone for the duration of his entire life: this sure didn't feel like it. Your fingers threaded through his hair and grabbed a fistful of his dirty orange locks, making him moan into the kiss, albeit a bit too loudly.

Rody made you grind against him, his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life. "Mmmm...~ feel good... keep going... please..." He whispered as he pulled away for air, before pulling you back down for another round of tongue kissing.

It was messy, but you started not to care a few minutes ago. You were completely drunk on Rody's taste, and by the looks of it—he was already long gone. "Y-You'll help me out, right?" Rody panted while throwing his head back, helping you grind on his groin.

"P-Pretty please?"

And who were you to decline such a pretty face begging for more?

Safe to say the day after that was far from normal, because now he's completely addicted to kissing you.

#rody lamoree #rody lamoree x reader #dead plate #dead plate rody #dead plate rody lamoree #x reader #dead plate x reader #gender neutral #rody lamoree x you #rody lamoree x male reader #rody lamoree x fem reader #rody x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #x fem reader #. . . 𝘀𝗵𝗶.𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 ?

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reguluswife28 · 4 months ago

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Hi☁️!

Can you write something about how the Sirius, James, Remus and Lily try to get close to Slytherin reader (who is really shy and muggleborn). They decide to try through a prank, since with Lily worked but instead they angered Regulus (the reader's only close friend) for making her cry. They decide to change their approach: complimenting her, reading with her and watching Muggle films. After some hesitation, the reader decides to give it a chance. (I hope it's okay for you to write about Lily too, I haven't seen many posts here on Tumblr involving her, although I think it comes up with something super cute☺️). The rest is up to you 🤍

Ps. The marauders and Lily are already in a relationship with each other

Thank you for requesting this! I had a lot of fun writing it!<3

Warnings: prank taken too far?

Chances

Have you ever been scared of something so much the sight of it makes you want to cry?

Well I am. To be specific, I'm scared of Doxy's. They're nasty little creatures that could kill you with their venom quickly.

The only reason why I had an encounter with these creatures once is because I may or may not have walked far too deep into the forbidden forest one day but thankfully my closest and only friend Regulus Black was there to save me before anything happened.

I shook my head out of my thoughts about the creature's as I sat at the Slytherin table. Right after that Regulus sat down next to me.

It was dinner time. "What took you so long?" I asked him as we put food onto our plate. "Slytherin quidditch captain started talking to me about plays for our next game." He replied as I started to eat so I just nodded. We fell into a conversation about the books we were reading that week.

Suddenly we were interrupted by rather loud laughter coming from the Gryffindor table that was beside the Slytherin table. Regulus stopped talking looking annoyed as he looked over to the table to see his brother's obnoxious laughing. "He never shuts up I swear." Regulus muttered causing me to chuckle a little.

Soon we finished eating and both decided to go back to the Slytherin common room. “You’ll have to let me read that book you’re reading once you’re done with it.” Regulus said to me with a small smile. “The Outsiders isn’t it?” He asks as we reach the painting to the common room. “Correct.” I say then say the password to get in and we walk through into the common room.

After a quick conversation we said goodnight to each other and headed to our dorms. When I got to mine I changed into pajamas and got in bed going to sleep.

The next morning I got and opened my dresser to get my regular clothes. But, with doing that out of my dresser came doxy’s. The one thing I was terrified of.

I tried to scream for help but nothing would come out of my throat. My heart was racing and I ran from them as they started to come after me.

While running I tripped and fell over one of my books for classes. I scrambled back against the wall starting to cry and hyperventilate. They came after me causing me to put my arms up crossing them in defense which really wouldn’t do anything. I closed my eyes waiting for impact but it never came.

I lowered my arms, opening my eyes and still crying to see absolutely nothing there now. What? I could have sworn they were just there. Was it all just some allusion?

“Y/n, are you up yet? We need to eat breakfast.” Asked Regulus just walking into my dorm. I assume he hadn’t seen me so he looked around confused. As he turned his head he saw me.

Immediately getting concerned he came over to me pulling me into his arms. “What happened?” He asked in a whisper. “I..” I try to speak but my voice is hoarse. “Take your time.” He says and I smile gratefully at him.

“I went to go get my clothes for the day…” I started looking over to my dresser. “Then when I opened it I had those doxy’s flying at me and then they just disappeared like they were an allusion.” I said shaking my head as I hugged Regulus.

“Are you okay now?” He asked still with a soft voice. I nodded then got up with his help. “Do you think it was the other Slytherins playing some mean prank? Just because I’m a muggleborn?” I ask as I walk to my dresser finally grabbing my clothes. “It could have been. I’ll try to find out.” He said then walked out the room so I could change.

I changed into my clothes and brushed my hair and teeth then met Regulus out in the common room and we walked together to breakfast. When we got there sitting down at the Slytherin table the marauders including Lily Evans walked up to us looking like they were laughing.

“What could you guys possibly want?” Regulus asked in a cold voice as I got some pancakes on my plate.

“Just came here to ask Y/n a question little brother.” Sirius replied and I looked up at them confused. “How was that doxy prank?” James asked and I tensed up. It was them? How did they get into my dorm let alone the Slytherin common room?

“Oh… uh…” I started then notice Regulus seething with his nostrils flaring. “Don’t look so gloomy. It was just a prank!” Peter said and I looked at them shocked then they walked to Gryffindor table and sat down.

I turned around and quietly ate my food quickly ignoring everytime Regulus tried to start a conversation about something. After I was done eating I got up walking out of the great hall and to the astronomy tower to calm down and read.

Regulus POV

After my stupid older brother and his friends or whatever they all are said they were the ones who pulled the prank on Y/n I was angry. I tried to talk to her throughout all of breakfast but she ignored me and when she was done she got up and walked off somewhere.

I though waited until the supposed pranksters got up and walked out to follow them. Following them down the hallway once we were far enough away from any teachers I quickly grabbed Sirius by the collar slamming him against the wall.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hex you right this second.” I seethed angrily pointing my wand at his throat. “Woah! Why the hell are you so angry?” He asked giving a confused look. “That little ‘prank’ you pulled on Y/n made her have a panic attack!” I spat at him letting him go but still holding my wand to my side.

“It what?” Asked Remus now looking panicked. “It was just supposed to be a little prank. I swear!” Sirius barked out quickly. The rest of them looked shocked. “We all like her and didn’t think the prank would cause all of that.” Lily said with concern lacing her tone.

“She’s absolutely terrified of doxy’s. She almost got attacked by real ones once.” I said now calmly but still slightly angry.

“How can we make it up to her?” Asked Peter quietly. “Well, if you really liked her you’d know she liked muggle books and movies. She may be up in the astronomy tower right now. She likes to read there.” I say walking off to the Slytherin common rooms.

Y/n’s pov

As I flipped the page in my book I was almost finished with I heard footsteps coming up the steps to the tower.

“Y/n?” I heard the voices of none other than the marauders and Lily ask. I close my book after bookmarking it and stand up to face them. “What?” I ask tiredly waiting for them to probably start tormenting me. “We’re sorry for the prank.” Lily said first and the others all had an apologetic face. “We truly are.” Remus said.

“The truth is.. we all like you and thought a prank would show that.” James told me and I tilted my head confused. “We were obviously wrong. Regulus made sure we knew of that.” Sirius said rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“We’re asking for another chance possibly?” Peter asked and I scoffed. “You prank me with the thing I’m terrified of most and ask for another chance? You’re going to need to make it up to me first before I ever decide if you even get that.” I tell them in a slightly upset and annoyed tone.

“We will.” They all say in unison.

“You like the outsiders?” Lily asks pointing to my book and I give a half smile. “It’s my favorite book and movie.” I inform her.

“Would you want to watch muggle movies with us today? To make up for what we did?” James asks and I nod. “Well let’s go!” Sirius says loudly throwing his arm around me. I manage to let out a little chuckle and lead the way to my dorm room.

When we got there I set up a place for us to all sit/lay and put in a muggle movie for us to watch. We watched quite a few muggle movies and joking around causing me to get tired so I ended up leaning my head on Lily’s shoulder stifling out a yawn.

They all weren’t that bad really and I forgive them for what happened. They all looked truly sorry when apologizing. “I think I’ll give you guys a second chance after all.” I say tiredly then end up falling asleep.

Sorry if the end felt rush I’ve been up for a while writing this!!

My masterlist!

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miifu666 · 9 days ago

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"Let me go back, to a time before it was too late"

Happy Halloween!!! (Update: im late. Very late.) i haven't seen much love for Animation Wukong from the game :( so i decided to try that style when making this reel. Also bonus point cause i had the audio that perfectly sounds like how i imagined Suklha! And i got too ambitious and put too much thought into this animatic my bad ♡

"A trickster monkey, with a heart of gold"

Is what she would always say, chuckling at his unusual and life-threatening antics. Both are thrill seeker, one daringly more composed and mature than the other. Yet, they both have the same wreaking havoc amongst mankind mindset.

Time will only tell which of the two would suffer a gruesome fate.

Unsurprisingly, the mammal is more tempered than the arthropod. It has always been his flaw, seeing things in red before opening up his mind and look around. Fate has always been on his side, so far he hasn't suffer the consequences of his action too much, once he did something bad. He's been punished for it. But he's still living, breathing, enjoying the peaches on flower fruit mountain.

He's still living.

He's breathing.

Time feels so slow.

He can barely feel his chest move.

He's not dead is he? No that can't be, he's a sage now. Immortal even.

Yet why does he feel so numb as he look at the mirror infront of him? A ritual, that pig said. A rumor he heard, mankind likes to do anything within their power to rewind the past just like him.

"So why dont you try it, kid?"

As time waits, he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. Worn out and fatigued plastered around his eyes, his cheeks, his wrinkles. This is ridiculous. Why would he believe what that pig said? What if its a stupid way to trick him?? Wukong didn't have time to get angry, he heard of a way to turn back the time and he went along with it. Impulsively.

He is.

He's doing it now. The good amount of incense and red candles filled the room, maybe thats why he's feeling heavy. The smoke filled room decreased a fair amount of oxygen. He peeled the peaches, just as bajie said. He's trying, his hands trembling as he cuts it into 8 pieces. Make it look perfect, he thought.

Scaring the vendor near the town when he bought a large amount of incense and candles, stole a fair amount of peaches, and scoured around the forest for a shrine with a mirror. He was desperate.

The monkey's eyes fallen shut. Maybe he needs some good sleep, just a while. He's been waiting a long time to have the time right.

Just for a while.

Maybe if he can't see her now.

He'll see her again in his dreams.

Its all his fault anyway-

"Monkey?"

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freyito · 5 months ago

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ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x ftm reader

★ summary: Gallagher has been the only one in your life to make you feel like a man. Even if you can mold and shape yourself in the Dreamscape, make yourself look and feel as Cis as you want, and yet, nothing has been able to fill the hole you feel within your very existence... aside from Gallagher. And now you can't find him. You can't find Gallagher. You can't find him.

✧ a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!!! im gonna be writing a lot more x male readers and especially a lot more x ftm readers... i started this blog cause wherever i looked in whatever fandom i was in i never found many male readers... and especially barely any ftm ones... and it feels like i havent written any proper x m! reader fics in a while, soooo... we'll start here. i'll still write gn reader of course!!!! but i like lowkey haven't written much that matches my identity in a bit.

🗒 cw: ftm reader, 2.2 story spoilers, dysphoria like mad dysphoria, anxiety, depression, sensory overloard, grief (?), hurt/no comfort, proofread

✎ wc: 2.2k

The Dreamscape has been quiet lately. Even Golden Hour was quiet, silent, and whenever you looked to the sky, its brilliance had begun to dim. The Dreamflux Reef had always been quiet, too, and yet now, it was uncanny. Micah had been so aloof, answering your questions curtly, and Gallagher hadn’t even sent you a text. Every time you texted him, it never went through, as if he wasn’t in an area with service. Which was normally okay, you knew he had to be out on a job or something, but it had been a whole week and he hadn’t even come back to his bar. When you had asked anyone about Gallagher, they had given you this look like they didn’t know where your lost dog was… which isn’t exactly far from the truth, you suppose. But you could see some sort of guilt behind their eyes. And that made you uneasy.

Sure, he had gone weeks at a time without being with you, but he always sent texts, and most people knew where he was, especially the locals. His last text to you was an ‘I love you babyboy.’, which isn’t abnormal, he had a habit of texting you that specifically around five times a day. He had to drill it into your head. He always made sure you knew you were loved, especially by him. You were ‘something special’, as he said, ‘the best thing that ever happened to him’, ‘his pretty boy’, and the list goes on. But your phone remains eerily silent.

You can’t help but check it every other minute, wading through the crowds of Golden Hour, the last place you wanted to be right now. No one in Dreamflux Reef would give you a definitive answer, no one had seen him, or if they had, they gave you indecisive answers. He was out on a case, he was at the lounge, anything to get you off their backs. You had to admit, you were becoming increasingly nagging, annoying, even. But who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend had been gone a whole week with no trace of him, no communication, and you were starting to think the worst.

Golden Hour makes your head spin, looking under every literal rock you can find, getting any info you can from the most lucid strangers and even mumbling drunkards. You are desperate, any little bit of information you use. Even if they had just seen a man with brown hair or a man with hazel eyes. Of course, none lead you to Gallagher. And the Bloodhounds aren’t of any help either, they all stare at you with confused looks and some even tell you to stop playing around.

You’ve already given up, the hustle and bustle of Golden Hour making you feel even more hopeless, the feel of everyone's eyes on you, not fitting in, it all sinks in once more. You were better off putting up lost dog posters at that point. Was it possible for people to go missing in the dreamscape? You had no idea, but you were holding onto the hope that perhaps this was all some twisted nightmare that had crept into your head, but each step you took disproved that thought.

Perhaps reality will have answers, and while you feel so reluctant to wake up, to be seen once more. You had never met Gallagher out of the dreamscape, and only now did you realize what you could be getting yourself into. Perhaps he had just… left? After so many years? Surely not, right?

You return to reality, unsteady. Your body feels frail, even if you had been maintaining it properly. It feels odd to be back in reality, where suddenly how you look, how you talk, and your mannerisms all mattered. You had to act masculine, you had to shut up and walk tall, hyper aware of the eyes on you. Even if it only takes only a minute to get to the front desk, even if you know the guests will never recognize you in the dreamscape. You still can’t help but feel self-conscious, being able to hide behind the veil of the dreamscape for so long, now out in reality, feeling as if you were stripped bare for all to see. Which you weren’t, but perhaps your nerves were getting to you.

When you reach the front counter, your nerves don't abate. They only grow in size, the fear quickly creeping through your system. There was no guest named Gallagher, and you didn’t even know what room he had been staying in. They can’t tell you anything considering that you yourself aren’t the customer they are looking for. But the way they look at you just as the people in Golden Hour and Dreamflux Reef do tells you all.

Reluctantly, you make it back to your room. You don’t know if you want to go back to the Dreamscape, you’re already shook up as is. If something so dire could make you resurface from the vast, blissful ocean that was the Dreamscape, why would you go back? No sign of him for a week, reality or otherwise, and not a word from those closest to him. Do you really wish to go back? Where you know your current efforts have failed. Where that sinking feeling that you know he’s gone takes hold of you?

You stare at the dreampool for a second longer, trying your best to shove down your doubts and your fears, and sink back into the sweet allure of dreams, waking up once more in the Dreamflux Reef. You stay where you are for another minute, a place you’ve called home for several years, a place that would be filled with hearty laughter, maybe even the clinking of glasses, and smell like Gallagher’s mild cologne. That scent has dimmed recently, either because he hadn’t come home, or perhaps you were… used to it. His clothes were still strewn about on the bed, what he was going to wear the day after he had disappeared. You didn’t dare move them, not once, afraid of losing all the little things about him.

When you finally exit the house, the streets feel colder. It’s even quieter than before, and most residents look… somber. Perhaps they always looked that way, and you just didn’t know. You figure you’d try your luck with Micah again, either to get closure or just wallow with someone who was close to Gallagher, you are unsure.

You had done your best to ignore the… tower that seemed to breach out of nowhere in the Reef, despite how tall it had been and just how oddly enchanting it was. You, like many of the Penacony locals, didn’t enjoy change. To have something like that just simply grow out of the ground you knew when those Trailblazers came around was jarring. That had also been the day that Gallagher had stopped coming home, and the events that followed had made you so desperate to find him once more. This beautiful dream, torn asunder by some madman’s delusion of a grander, peaceful life. You never did like the family, you never liked Sunday.

On that note, Micah was nowhere to be seen, at least where you looked. Not all the way down in the alleys or by the train station, not in the dive bar playing pool, nowhere. You had no where but to ascend those damned stairs that faced towards a false moon. You didn’t want to, not at all. It wasn’t intimidating, but every time you lingered near it for too long, you felt uneasy. It had an air to it that spoke of danger, something that told you it ‘was not for you’. And here you were, stood in front of it and the three graves that paid homage to it.

The first step you take bathes you in a stillness unlike one you’ve ever felt. Tranquility follows as you continue to walk, the world is suddenly so quiet, the hustle and bustle of the Reef fades out, and you are left with blissful nothingness. The only sound that follows you is your steps. It isn’t so bad when you think about it, it’s comforting, in a way.

Micah is tending to the plants that surround a small little courtyard. He’s relaxed, untensed, and seems genuinely at peace. It’s been rare to see someone like that in recent days. When he hears you, he lifts his head and gives you a soft smile, one that reeks of pity, as if he knows what you are going to ask him.

“Micah–”

“I have no idea where Gallagher is,” Micah sighed, his smile faltering slightly. “Not a text, not a word.”

At this point, you knew people were lying to you. Micah’s reminder only makes you realize just how much people were. “I know that. Tell me what happened to him.”

Micah is taken aback by your blunt reaction, but easily gives in. The jig is up it seems, and he doesn’t fight back any longer. With a soft huff and slump of his shoulders, he sets aside his current task, turning his full attention towards you.

“Then we’re gonna have to sit down and talk. It’s a bit of a doozy.”

. * 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Your head spins with all the details. It’s all so confusing, Gallagher, being… fictional? The man you had fallen in love with was simply just a creation, not tangible, not real. What were you supposed to do with that information? All you had been doing for the past hour or so is staring at the wall. Your room is silent, as is all things now, dark and lonely. It’s suffocating. You feel empty, devoid of whatever was there, whatever had filled the hole in your heart, as cliche as it was.

A hollow home, a hollow heart, and not a soul to mend it. Those welcoming arms are no more, or perhaps, never were. And yet, his clothes still remain, his toothbrush and cologne and shampoo and everything else stay in the bathroom as if he were. If you spaced out long enough, you could still hear his hearty laughter, if you sink a little deeper into the pillows you can smell faint traces of his shampoo. Anything to hold onto what you love. Who you love.

You need to drown yourself in something before you lose your mind. You want to cry, and yet… you can’t. It is still all catching up to you. You wander around the house mindlessly, desperate for something to happen. Anything. But there is nothing. When you stop, there is null, a terrifying distance between you and the empty kitchen. You have to get out of here, you have to leave, this home is not yours anymore. It is simply a house.

Your feet bring you away from the Reef, finally, settling you in the Reverie. You follow a familiar path, one that you had walked on a particularly bad night, that had led you to the Dreamjolt Holstery. It was unwise of you to fall in love with the mixologist, but here you were, several years in, finding out he was quite literally made up.

Slowly, you take a seat at the bar, the lounge around you empty, dead. You have no idea where the bartender is, but you don’t care. This is the same seat you had taken that night. It was something you should’ve forgotten, really, such a minor detail that now felt all too big and meaningful to your heart. You can still remember what had torn you up, it was a particularly bad day, feeling too dysphoric, and no matter what you did, even in the Dreamscape, it had done nothing to affirm your identity more. So you sought out a drink, or a few, to wash down that bitter taste that plagued your taste buds all day. And there he was, a little disheveled as always, eyebags, gravelly voice, something about him just… washed over you as if he were a dream. Which, looking back, apparently he was. You remember fighting between two thoughts; wanting to be him, or wanting him. To be a man so… masculine, gruff, big and intimidating, something like that…

Your nostalgic daydream is broken by steps, and a figure above you. You look up, hoping that you’ll see the same scene once more, that Gallagher will shoot you a smile and a chuckle, ask you what’s got you down, but instead, it’s Siobhan. She looks down at you with a sympathetic smile, as if she knows exactly what you were thinking about. You can’t tell if you feel angry or sad, or neither. You simply push those feelings down.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asks, her voice even and calm as always.

You take a minute to think, unsure if you want something strong to keep you occupied or something that could serve as a tribute. Ultimately, you settle with…

“A glass of uh… The Big Sleep,” You can’t help but chuckle lightly at the name, even if the chuckle was devoid of joy. Siobhan doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and nods.

“... To the ghosts of the past?”

“Yeah… to the ghosts of the past.”

#⁺◟freyito #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #gallagher x male reader #gallagher hsr x male reader #hsr x ftm reader #honkai star rail x ftm reader #gallagher x ftm reader #gallagher hsr x ftm reader

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kryptidkhaos · 24 days ago

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Cleaning Supplies That Actually Make My Life Easier: Disabled Edition

O-Cedar EasyWring Spin Mop & Bucket System

All the housekeeping influencers have been raving about this thing for ages and I really thought it was going to be a complete gimmicky rip-off. I was wrong.

I've tried a ton of other mop and bucket styles out there, I had one ages ago that was similar in style to this one, but instead of the foot pedal for spinning like the EasyRing, you were meant to push the mop down into this colander type thing that would squeeze the water out. It would usually work for maybe 2-3 sessions of mopping before the plastic would just completely shatter from the pressure you needed to put on it to squeeze the mop. We even had a full on industrial janitor style one on wheels for awhile, but that took up a whole lot of space and was a huge pain to fill up. All them have been more trouble than they're worth. I've been relying on a simple spray mop with washable pads for a long time now, and while they can be great for small messes, it wasn't enough to really mop the whole floor with. (Not that it hasn't stopped me from trying, and going through about a dozen mop pads in the process)

We've had ours since February and I love it so much. Mopping is a task that I have a massive love-hate relationship with. I enjoy doing it, it's a highly satisfying process, but it's hell on my body, so I need to reduce the amount of back and forth for buckets, pads, cleaners, etc. as much as possible and have it be a simple enough process that I can give the floors a quick once over nearly every day instead of having to do big scrubs that keep me bent over and on my feet for long periods of time.

With this system, the bucket is small enough for me to fit in my kitchen sink and carry around the house without too much strain on my arms and shoulders. I don't ever have to bend over or put my hands in the water. The pedal/spinning action is really smooth a good 85% of the time. If you try to push the pedal down too hard or fast sometimes the teeth on the plastic gears inside will skip/grind and make a horrible sound (I though I'd broken it the first time it happened to me), but I've yet to have it actually cause a problem.

Third party replacement mop heads are in abundance and I've found massive bulk packs of them for super cheap, no difference in quality from the name brand. I toss them in my washing machine when I'm done with them and I think I've only thrown away two out of the 12 pack I bought back in February. (Sometimes you mop up something so Gross that you never want it touch anything again, no matter how many times it's been washed)

I really want the RinseClean version with double tanks, but haven't been able to justify it yet. The mop handle on ours is starting to give out after heavy daily use for almost a year, but I know it'll be way cheaper and less wasteful to just replace that when the rest is still trucking along just fine, but I'll definitely be upgrading once it...

...kicks the bucket.

#hearthkeeping #nontrad homemaker #homemaking #housekeeping #mopping #cleaning tips #cleaning tools #original post

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himexyandere · 10 months ago

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Yandere Headcanons Pt. 2

Content Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, malpractice, gaslighting, manipulation, drugging

A/N: These are just more yandere HC's that I thought of and wanted to post ^^ I haven't written anything here for a while, so I figured I'd post something! Not sure what my next post will be, honestly, I'll probably do a poll and ask what you guys would like to see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! <3

Yandere!Doctor who keeps you in his hospital by occasionally slipping different harmless drugs into your meals that makes you a little lightheaded and exhibit signs of being feverish, thus extending your visit.

Had someone told you that you would be staying for a bit at a hospital with your favorite doctor, you probably would’ve been elated to hear such a thing!

That wasn’t necessarily the case, however — yes, he was your favorite doctor and he’d always called you his “star patient” when the two of you were alone, but you weren’t exactly a huge fan of hospitals

Staying for more than a week was already too much for you, yet he still wouldn’t let you leave

“My dear, you may not think your symptoms are worrying, but they certainly are. A fever that comes and goes at random is nothing to treat lightly. I will be extending your stay until you feel better.”

During your first week, a male nurse was the one who came to bring you your food and medicine, occasionally striking up casual conversations with you to help you feel more comfortable in such a quiet, sterile place

After another week or so, you hadn’t seen him again. Confused, you asked your doctor where the nurse went and he gave you a seemingly perturbed frown

“I’m sorry, dear, but we had to let him go. One of the other nurses found him assaulting a comatose patient. Terrible, isn’t it? I’m just glad he’s gone now and is no longer a danger to anyone… Wouldn’t you agree?”

Had a month gone by already? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your doctor was the only one who visited your room, stating that visitation was on hold for a while due to some issue or another—

He’s the doctor so why would you question him? He only wants what’s best for his “star patient”, after all

You were originally in for a small health scare at work, but now…

Yandere!Househusband who clings to you, slightly causing a bit of concern amongst your friends and family, but you feel like his clinginess is normal... At first.

He acted like the two of you were still a newlywed couple or something

He always, always, always craves your attention, wanting to be close to you whenever feasible

This meant that leaving home to go to your job every morning was a nearly impossible feat, considering he rarely ever let you escape his arms (at least not without some bribery first)

“If you promise to spend the entire weekend with me here in our home, then I’ll let you leave for work. How’s that sound, darling?”

This was a common occurrence, leading you to spend most, if not all, of your free time cuddling up with your husband at home, watching corny movies and eating snacks.

Your friends and family started seeing less and less of you, prompting them to call and visit your home more often with questions about where you’ve been. You always tell them that you’re fine and you’ve just been spending some time relaxing with your hubby

He was delighted by your replies and would later tell you after they left that he loves you so, so much

He does get anxious at times, though, wondering constantly if you’re annoyed with him or if you secretly hate his clinginess and overwhelming adoration

After you told him that you would be going to hang out with your friends one evening, he nearly lost it in front of you. Fortunately, he managed to maintain a gentle smile as he encouraged you to go and have a good time

When you got back later that night, your husband informed you that he’d scheduled a getaway for your upcoming anniversary! He’s already called your job and put in for PTO, so you don’t have to worry your little head—you’re going to have so much fun… Just the two of you.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere male #obsessive love #yandere x reader #yandere community #male yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere hc's #yandere doctor #yandere husband #yandere househusband #yandere drabble

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a-random-weeb · 1 year ago

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Hello! Can I request yandere chuuya with a fem reader he accidentally broke and now he’s trying so hard to un break her by letting her go outside and go shopping but little does he know she’s Been normal the whole time and it was all just an act so she tries escaping by chuuya catches her?

omg yes I love this idea. Tysm for the oneshot prompt btw!

Ok, this is kind of cringe but I had a lot of fun writing so fuck it

I hope you like it as much as I do

Warnings: Yandere, physical abuse, mentions of isolation, slight nsfw mention. I wanted to make it fluffy at the end, so you can read the end if you want or settle for when he beats you. let me know if I missed anything

Disclaimer: this fic is not romantisising Yandere behavior, it is fanfiction. If any of this is happening in real life, seek help, it's not romantic even if it's great in fanfiction.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn't mean for this. He didn't mean for the punishment to go THAT far, and he certainly didn't mean to break you. Yet here you were, after all that screaming and crying you held an emotionless look on you're face, and he hated it.

He drags you outside, normally you're not allowed out of your room unless he's by your side, then you can wander the house, but you haven't been outside the penthouse for the last year! You were excited, but you had to maintain the façode of being broken.

When Chuuya sees that nothing has changed about the look on your face a wave of sadness washes over him. He missed how cheerful you used to be, how you would giggle over every dumb thing he did, how you were always so positive. Sure, sometimes his punishments were a little harsh, but you had a lot of fun together too! He racks his brain for anything he could do to get you back to your old self, then he comes up with what he hopes to be a good idea. He should take you shopping, girls like shopping don't they? Well he'll have to hope.

You both arrive at the mall, a fun place to spend your life savings. Lucky for you, Chuuya was rich, so you could spend as much as you wanted! The relief in Chuuyas eyes at the slight excitement in yours was adorable. Though, that excitement is gone as quick as it came, leaving him disappointed.

You almost slipped up! You were too excited at the thought of running around shopping you almost let your gaurd down! You desperately hope he didn't notice. As much as you would love to spend his money, running around like a little kid, but unfortunately (and fortunately) it was the perfect time to escape. You slip into the crowd while in the food court the second he looks away. Running to the nearest exit, strategically avoiding his gaze.

You guess you didn't do well enough, because when you bolt outside, you feel two strong arms wrap around you from behind. You look up in horror to see an angry chihuahua Chuuya glaring daggers at you, but... There is also a look of hurt in his eyes

"Why the hell did you try to escape huh?! To hurt me by pretending to be broken, only to hurt me more after I allowed you outside!! It'll be a long time before you ever go outside again. We're going home. Now." He tightly grabs your wrist, not caring about the amount of pain he's causing you, or how much you beg for him to forgive you. He throws you in the backseat of his car, slamming the door before driving the two of you home.

The night is certainly a long one, he's very rough despite you crying and begging, throwing you in the floor of the bedroom, fucking you and beating you til you pass out.

The next morning he felt bad about actions that night, and feels you've had enough punishment, so he'll cuddle you and pamper you. You get breakfast in bed and nothing but cuddles, apologies and words of praise, though, he still believes you deserved what came to you last night. He know you probably won't try to escape again after the hell he put you through, and even though he feels bad, he does not regret it...

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

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just some random prompts (up to you how you'll use it or not lol):

Din Djarin x forcesensitive/jedi!reader

Reader actually understands Mando'a, got flustered when Din calls her cyarika, mesh'la (maybe have the reader respond in Mando'a too and let's see how it goes from there)

Reader is some masked vigilante of some sort and has a bounty on her head, Din Djarin unmasked her during a fight and turns out she was also reported missing few years ago by her family (maybe make reader a noble-blood to sprinkle some drama)

I recommend the song Close to You by Neon Trees, maybe it's just me but it reminds me of your Din Djarin x Reader drabbles hehe

also, I love your writing so muuuuch. xx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild start to something smutty if you squint lol

Word Count: 1,049 (damn it i was so close to under 1k)

LANGUAGE BARRIER

a/n: i have din djarin brain rot smh. also, ngl, i did not proof read this with the intensity i usually try to so🤷🏻‍♀️ OH AND HEY IF YOU HAVEN'T VOTED IN MY POLL YET GO DO SO, IT'S ON MY MASTERLIST.

Mando’a was an interesting language. It was different. That’s what initially drew you to it. Unlike the other languages you studied, Mando’a texts were hard to find. For a while, you had to make do with just scraps of information. That almost made learning it so much more satisfying though. Then, while at University, you met an elder who had grown up adopted by Mandalorians. He had never taken the Creed, drifted away from the culture, but not without becoming fluent in Mando’a. He was the reason the holes in your education were filled, and that meant he was also the reason you could enjoy Din Djarin’s mumbling.

Over the year you traveled with him, he became more and more comfortable with your presence⏤ at least, that’s what you assumed the reasoning was for him becoming more vocal. They were little statements at first. Din would be clearing out his weapon locker, run into a problem, and spit out a string of curses. Peli had once told him that the Razor Crest would be grounded for at least a week and you hung onto every word of Mando’a of the rant he spiraled into about the last quarry who had caused the damage. You had planned on telling him you knew Mando’a⏤ you were going to casually mention it.

Then, he called you mesh’la.

A nickname you hadn’t expected.

Din had a habit of using a lot of nicknames that you’d never expect from him. Cyar’ika. Ner sarad. Cyare. Senaar’ika. Each new, adoring nickname would bring warmth to your face, but you had missed the normal window of opportunity to mention to him that you spoke his language. Especially when, in a panic, he had referred to you as ‘cyar’ika’ for the first time and you asked him what it meant. Din had answered in a simple way, giving you the definition without missing a beat, as if it were a casual thing. For a while, you thought that meant there was no significant weight behind those words.

Your theory of the nicknames just being for fun was shot in the face when you nearly got shot yourself. While out in a city, you had gotten caught in the crossfire. The quarry himself had spotted you and with a sickening grin turned to put you down. Luckily, he had missed⏤ it only clipped you in the arm⏤ but the rampage that Din had gone into was shocking. Not nearly as shocking as when you heard him speak to the quarry after pummeling his face beyond recognition: ‘I’ll bring you in cold for that, bastard. I don’t show mercy to those who target what’s mine’. For the rest of the night, you convinced yourself that it wasn’t what you thought. Sure, the two of you shared lingering touches and the tension had grown since you came aboard, but it had to be something else.

Weeks later, while waiting in a cantina for Din to return from obtaining new pucks, a Twi’lek man had saddled up beside you. Despite making it clear you had no interest, the man continued to invade your space. That is, until Din stepped up to your other side and pulled you into his side. The Twi’lek had abandoned his goal very quickly and the words that left Din’s lips stayed with you for weeks on end. ‘Should've known better than to leave someone as beautiful as you alone at the bar’. Still, no matter how badly you wanted to just jump him, you convinced yourself he didn’t want you. He was a friend. That was all.

Until seconds ago. You sat on one of the crates in the Razor Crest’s cargo hold as Din applied a bacta patch to the claw marks across your calf. A run in with a Trandoshan gone wrong. He had pulled off his gloves to provide the care, not something out of the ordinary, but the feel of his fingertips against your skin was not a sensation you’d ever get used to. Din set his entire hand against the upper half of your calf and his thumb caressed the skin there. Without looking up, he murmured, “I will know you forever.”

You fully understood the weight of his words. Din rose to stand and began to walk away to put away the first aid kit. The words fell out of your mouth before you could consider any of the consequences, “I can speak Mando’a, and I am so sorry I didn’t tell you earlier but I panicked.” In the most uncharacteristic move you had seen from him, Din tripped over some of the gear he had been passing in the rush to spin and look back at you. The Mandalorian caught himself before he could do more than stumble. You offered him a sheepish smile, “Sorry. Again.”

“You speak Mando’a?” Din asked in his language.

“A little.” You nodded then shook your head. “Actually, a lot. I’m⏤ I’m fluent.”

“This entire time?” Din slowly crept back towards you. You nodded. He continued on until he stood between your legs. Din’s hands settled on his hip and you were forced to lean back a bit to keep your nose from being pressed against his chest.

You scrunched your nose in concern, “Are you mad?”

“No. Of course not, my love.” Din replied, his voice low. Din’s bare hand lifted to cup the side of your face. His thumb caressing the side of it. Din pressed in closer again so you were forced to tilt your head up to meet his hidden gaze as he stared down at you. His touch trailed away from your cheek, and he let the pad of his thumb ghost over the outline of your lips⏤ your breath hitched in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest. Din pressed his thumb against your already parted lips more firmly, the tip of it brushing against your tongue, before he dragged it down further to open your mouth even wider. “But you are in trouble. Are you going to accept your punishment with grace?” Your lips twitched up in a smile as an ache of desire ran down your spine and straight to your core. You leaned in just enough to fully wrap your lips around his thumb. Din chuckled. “Good girl.”

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