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fallingdownhell · 3 months

Note

How do you think the Sumeru boys would react to their s/o getting shrunk?

An interesting scenario... 👀 Characters Included: Tighnari; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kaveh (+Wanderer) Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; idk if this classifies as crack??; bit of comedy; bits of fluff Word count: 910 words Have fun<3

Tighnari

I personally see this going one of two ways

first, when realizing what has happened, he'd drop everything, all his work and responsibilities, and try to figure out how this happened and how to turn you back to normal again

or, he would want to do that, but he just can't because something really important is happening today... then, as shitty as this sounds, he'd just take you along with him, like in a backpack or pocket or something. Because he does not trust that nothing won't happen to you while he's out and about

whichever it is, he'd be very gentle with your tiny form and take very good care of you

when first noticing your current predicament, Tighnari would be shocked, maybe laugh a little bit, but he'd soon focus on helping you figure things out

he's not too keen on you staying this way for a longer period of time, or even forever, so he'd work hard on finding a solution

overall okay reaction, very helpful and polite about it, though he does put out an occaisonal comment here and there. But it's all in good fun, so don't worry

Cyno

oh boy

you best prepare to be the butt of every of his jokes for the foreseeable future from now on

even if you manage to turn you back to normal, he will not let you forget about this incident, ever

would probably laugh at you, questioning you how you even managed that in the first place

but all jokes aside, he IS worried about you, so he does the only thing he can think about

he grabs you very carefully and carries you to Tighnari, hoping that his friend and Forest Ranger might know or can help to come up with a solution to the problem

he'll stay there with you until you're back to normal, that means that his work will be put on hold, no matter what anyone has to say about it

will turn restless and worried if there's no easy or quick solution available, but will do his best to support you, even though he will still make jokes about you

Alhaitham

shock and surprise is his first initial reaction

like, frozen on his spot, kinda shocked

does not know how to react appropriately or what to say, at all. One of the few times in his life where he's actually speechless

once he's recovered from the shock, he's asking you a whole lot of question. If you remember how this happened, how you feel, if you noticed anything unusual, if you maybe know how to revert back, etc

just, literally any question that comes to his mind, really

he views this entire situation very neutral, like some sort of experiment that he wants to figure out

and since you're the only one affected and involved, it's only obvious that he asks you all these questions

plus, by answering them, he might be able to figure out what's going on and how to revert you back to normal

if he can't come up with a solution on his own, he'd go into the House of Daena, searching for every book available that is loosely connected to the issue at hand

should that still not deliver results, he'll help you consult doctors and other specialists in order to help you get better again

Kaveh

full on panic mode activated

he sees what has happened to you, and freaks out over it

almost impossible to calm him down again. And since your voice is a lot quieter in your tiny form, you have to almost shout out your lungs in order to get his attention again

out of the two of you, you're definitely the calmer and more levelheaded one in this situation

he's helping you with whatever you need. When you ask him to take you to the doctors, he does so, no questions asked

though you have to constantly remind him to not squeeze you so hard in his hands

cut him some slack, will you? He's not used to something like this, he has to constantly remind himself to treat you carefully and gently

will freak out again if no one can figure out what is wrong with you or how to treat you

he may not have much money, but you best believe he's putting every single Mora he has into trying to figure this out and get you back to your normal self

Wanderer

shocked at first, but will soon start to tease you about it relentlessly

he'll lovingly call you names like "shorty", "shortcake", and other stuff, now that you're so much tinier than him

he's having his fun teasing you for some time, but in the end, he does worry about you and wants you back to your usual self

since he doesn't trust you to be by yourself while like this, he carefully picks you up when he goes to pay Nahida a visit, thinking that she might know something about what has happened to you

together, the three of you would put your heads together, trying to figure something out

would feel annoyed if you're still in this state by the end of the day, but tries not to show it. It's not your fault after all, and you can't really do anything about it, so he doesn't want to let it out on you

but you best believe that it's his top priority from now on to get to the bottom of this. And should he find out that someone else is responsible for this, then they best prepare , because he won't go easy on them should he ever come across them...

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seijorhi · 2 months

Text

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on.

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense.

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika.

He also had his cursed technique.

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.”

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it.

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out.

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured.

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?”

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes.

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely.

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse.

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence.

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale.

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there.

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face.

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out.

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off.

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips.

Perfect, beautiful girl.

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe.

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts.

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together.

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

#yandere jjk #yandere okkotsu yuuta #yandere okkotsu yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta #yandere jjk x reader #tw: dubcon #etched in red

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theemporium · 9 months

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What about... Pining and yearning driver (doesn't matter who he is tbh) but in reality he's just stupidly in love and doesn't realize reader is also in love with them 😭 happy ending of course <3

thank you for requesting!🖤

“You’re glaring.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Mate, she’s his assistant. Stop planning his murder,” Lando grumbled, though the amusement was clear on his face. He was enjoying each and every second of this.

It wasn’t uncommon for Max to find him in the McLaren motorhome on a Thursday afternoon, especially if they knew they would be in a conference together. The Dutchman would most likely just spend time catching up with his friend, laughing and joking about before they would be guided to the interview by their PR teams.

However, more recently than not, Lando was starting to notice that Max was showing up to the McLaren motorhome for a different reason. A reason that had everything to do with the fact the motorhome beside the papaya orange team was none other than the Ferrari one. And Max had his eye on a certain member of the Ferrari team.

You.

You, who was Charles’ assistant. You, who was currently standing outside the Ferrari motorhome with your boss and his teammate. You, who currently had your hands on Charles’ chest as you tried to smooth out his team polo as best as you could.

Not that Max cared. Not at all. He had no reason to care and he certainly didn’t. Or at least, that was what he was telling himself.

“You know,” Lando continued when the Dutchman had fallen silent. “Charles was telling me he thinks she has a crush on a driver.”

Max’s head whipped around. “What?”

“Yeah,” Lando shrugged casually. “Apparently she admitted it when she was drunk.”

“Who is it?” Max asked almost immediately.

Lando grinned. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” he retorted defensively.

“Right,” the Brit laughed before patting him on the back. “God, you are so easy to wind up.”

“Lando,” Max grumbled. “Name.”

“Huh? Oh, it must have slipped my mind,” Lando sighed before shifting the conversation onto something else.

But it didn’t leave his mind. It couldn’t leave his mind. Instead, Max spent the whole press conference wondering who the driver was. He racked his brain on who he saw you interacting with, who he had seen you hanging around more often than the others.

The obvious answers were either one of the Ferrari drivers. But you had always insisted you viewed Charles as a brother, yet that didn’t cross Carlos off the potential list. He wondered if it was either of the McLaren drivers, or maybe even Daniel, his own teammate. He wondered maybe if it was one of the drivers he wasn’t as close to on the grid, that maybe you hung out with them for more than he realised.

His answers during the conference were short, blunt and distracted and everyone noticed.

You had been standing off to the side, phone in hand as you answered a few emails here and there whilst Charles dealt with his media duties. However, your attention was quickly pulled away from your work when you heard the Dutchman speak. And then, you were distracted by your own concern for him when you realised how off he was acting.

You had waited until the end of the conference before you approached him, a sheepish smile on your face when you realised he was far too lost in thought to even realise you were beside him. You placed your hand on his arm, causing the boy to jump slightly and you quickly pulled your hand back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised with a smile. “Are you okay?”

Max blinked. “What?”

“Are you okay?” you repeated as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “You seem really off today.”

“Uh, yeah,” he muttered, a crease forming between his brows. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?”

Deep down, Max knew you were probably only asking to be polite. He knew you probably expected him to just shake his head and say no so you could run off to help Charles like you should have been doing, rather than standing there talking to him. But the question was plaguing his mind, and who better to give him an answer than you?

“Do you like one of the drivers?” he blurted out.

You blinked, slightly surprised. “What?”

“Do you like one of the drivers?” he asked again, his eyes never leaving yours. “Lando says you did.”

“He did?” you questioned, your voice a little high-pitched and you hoped the Dutchman couldn’t tell your face was burning up. “I wonder where he got that from—-”

“Charles told him,” Max told you.

And you cursed your boss for opening his mouth.

“I…might,” you muttered shyly.

“Who is it?”

“Max—”

“I won’t tell him,” he continued, pretending like the idea of you saying one of his friend’s names wouldn’t make his stomach churn uncomfortably. “I could even help you if you want—”

“No, Max, it’s you,” you interrupted, your nails digging into your palm as you blurted out the words. “You’re the driver.”

Max nodded once but stayed silent.

You instantly wanted the world to open up and swallow you whole. You cleared your throat, taking a step back as you tried to pretend the embarrassment of his blatant rejection wasn’t making you want to curl into a hole and never come out.

“I’m sorry, I should just—” you started but Max quickly intervened.

“Do you want to get dinner with me?”

You blinked at him. “Dinner?”

“Yes, with me,” Max continued. “Tonight. Or tomorrow night. Whenever it works for you.”

“I—” you paused, letting out a breath as you smiled at him. “I would like that.”

Max didn’t bother hiding the small smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said and nodded. “I’ll message you when I’m free.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said, watching as you headed back towards the Ferrari garage, a weight having been lifted off his chest as he watched you go. He couldn’t even deny the butterflies in his stomach as he thought about your message.

Max was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even see Lando approaching his side, grinning wide like a madman.

“I knew you liked her!”

“Shut up.”

“Max and—”

“Fuck off, Norris.”

“Sitting in a tree–”

“You know what, you can get your own plane home.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen oneshot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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yanwriter-archive · 10 months

Note

Can I request a yan! Soap, Ghost, and König all liking the same reader? Maybe they have a shared dislike for a new soldier trying to hit on her

Three stones, one bird.

Warnings: Obsessive love, Gore, manipulation

God must have cursed the blood in your veins for you to have caught the attention of three violent, scary, men like Soap, Ghost and König. Whether you think they could share is up to your personal wants, but once an outsider comes in view, especially someone as lowly as a rookie recruit? Their plans are now on hold until this problem is taken care of.

Soap is the most vocal of his distaste at first. It comes off of a casual jealousy, and it can even be seen as cute or silly. Yet, the pure hatred in his eyes tell a whole different story then what he lets on.

König tends to let it boil inside. Honestly, if you didn't see how intense his stare was when you were talking to them, you wouldn't know at all how he was feeling. That's how he wants it.

Ghost understands, he really does. Being on base so long and seeing someone as attractive as you? He can't fault them at all. But his tightly closed fists hovering over his knife when the recruit gets a little too close reminds them that it doesn't matter if he understands.

Now, the recruit still proceeds. Does he really think he can go up agist them? That he actually has a chance? Or is he just stupid. It really doesn't matter, because they take it as a threat.

The night is dark, and the chilly air slowly seeps into the building, leaving a draft. The hallway is dim, and most people have already left. You would have left too if the new recruit, Kevin, hadn't stopped you.

"Sorry, you're probably in a hurry to get back," he chuckles softly.

You shake your head. "It's okay, what did you need?"

"Well, I just wanted to..." His eyes raise up and he notices someone behind you. Before you can look, he continues in a much more confident manner. "Would you like to go out this Saturday?"

You pause to think about it. "Yeah, okay, sounds like fun!"

He glances back behind you, a prideful look in his eyes.

"Great! I'll text you the information!" He grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckle. "Until then, love." He leaves, giving a wink to the person behind you.

You turn to leave, realizing that Simon was behind you.

"Sorry! Didn't see you there!" You give a polite smile and head on your way.

Simon stays there for a while, his dark eyes lacking any emotion.

Ah, so not only is he an idiot, but he also thinks he has a chance and wants to brag about it.

Simon waits for a moment more before pulling out his phone.

Kevin awakes at the loud bang at his door. Slowly, he walks to the door. He knows who it is. You can't flirt with Ghost's interest and get away with it, but he knew that. Kevin almost laughs at how predictable Ghost is.

"I was wondering when you were going to show-" His words were knocked out of his mouth as soon as his door was opened. He didn't predict that Soap and König would be on the other side.

Blood leaked out of his mouth where soap had hit him, and he wondered if he really did fuck up.

"What happened to your smugness? Thought you were askin' for a fight?" Soap stepped into his room. "I've been wantin' to do this for a long while." Soap says, stretching out the word long.

"Pathetic." König's voice rung out, rattling Kevins body. "You thought you were actually good enough for them? You aren't even good enough to feed the worms that live underneath the soil they stand on."

"Are you seriously doing this because of one person? You're fucking crazy." Kevin spits out some blood, "Listen I'm sorry, I was just trying to bang a hot-" His voice was cut off once again by soap's fist, sending him lying on the floor.

"Maybe you only hang around sleezy people, but they aren't somethin' you just bang." Soap sends another punch, this time sending two teeth down Kevin's throat. "Scum."

His scream rings out as König's heavy boot comes down on his leg, a sicking snap following. "It's also unforgivable if you say that you just want to fool her and break her heart."

The sheer force of König's stomp had broken his leg in half.

A new voice appears, as loud footsteps enter the room.

"You learn your lesson?" Simon questions, his eyes holding that same look as before.

"Yes! Please stop, please!" Kevin cries out.

"Good." Simon reaches a hand for Kevin to take. He grabs it, hoping to be pulled up and brought to get help, but his hope is crushed when Ghost yanks him, twisting his arm and swiftly breaking it too.

"Stay the fuck away from them."

You were feeling sour as Sunday arrived. Kevin had gotten into a fight with another new recruit and ended up with a broken arm and leg. On top of that, he would rather run away than admit that he completely ignored you all week.

Your mood shifted when Soap suggested hanging out with Ghost, König, and him. That sounded better than spending time with someone like Kevin. Besides, you always felt safer when you were with them.

At least that's what they wanted you to think.

A/N Note: I'm not feeling this one, but I figured I post it anyways.

#yandere #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere x reader #call of duty x reader #anon #yandere ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere konig #yandere soap

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tarjapearce · 8 months

Note

soccer family Miguel meeting wife’s family for the first time and vice versa?

Oh dear. What a bumpy ride. 🙃

Bit of angst in the end. (Will do her meeting his family later, don't worry ~)

Pt 2 here

Teeth pulled at the inner soft skin on your lips, chewing and biting away the waves of raw anxiety that washed over you.

"Stop that. You'll hurt yourself."

Miguel mumbled as he drove to your family's home. It was an unsettling surprise for you to know that your family wanted to meet him. But what truly surprised you was the fact that they knew.

Ever since you moved out from your family's home at 18, many things stopped happening. Fights, verbal and emotional abuse that went both ways, the constant comparison to your other same age family members and you, and of course, you being pushed around and invalidated.

College was a different kind of freedom for you. And the start of a new life without them. You barely visited them, even skipped the most important holidays to be away from them. In a way, it was thanks to that that you met Jessica. She had been a wonderful support on your life.

"I know... just-"

His large hand covered yours to then give a kiss on the back of your palm

"You'll be fine. And if you don't feel comfortable enough, we can go."

"I'm uncomfortable already and we haven't even arrived yet."

"They can't be that bad"

You deadpanned and sighed.

"Corazón, look. I know family's difficult. I really do, but a couple of hours won't kill you. It's a good chance to prove them wrong."

"I've got nothing to prove them, Miguel."

"Right. Still, won't be a bad idea for them to see you doing fine. Talvez asi se callan el hocico y te dejan en paz" (Maybe that way they'll shut the fuck up and leave you alone)

You giggled at his words.

In truth was that you told him everything, it was sort of sad yet amusing that you bonded over trauma sharing. It was a mutual catharsis that somehow ended up strengthening your relationship. He didn't know them, but for the things you had shared with him, he knew he'd be curt and polite.

You'd warn him about their modus operandi. They'd present themselves as kind and welcoming, but bit by bit the snide and passive aggressive remarks and comments would show up. You had hope that after years of barely visiting they'd change.

Something you were about to find out as he parked outside the colonial looking home.

"No matter what, stay away from the Horchata. My auntie thinks she is good at it but... it's yuck."

He chuckled and soon, you'd get out the car. Miguel rubbed your shoulders soothingly in an attempt to ease your restless nerves.

----

"Buenas gente" (Hey, People)

One of your elder aunts, the only one you truly liked and always supported you back in college came to greet you with a loving hug, "Mija!"

"Hola tía" (Hey auntie)

You hugged her back and mumbled a quick 'I missed you' before letting Miguel come into view.

"Tía, This is Miguel. My boyfriend."

Auntie gasped at the sheer size of him but gave him a gentle smile.

"Nice to meet you, mijo."

"El gusto es mío, madrecita" (The pleasure is mine)

"Oh! He speaks Spanish!"

The two shared a brief laugh as auntie invited you further. With a hand Miguel held a small present, a bottle of your dad's favorite rum and bunch of roses for your mother. and the other one he held your hand.

It seemed like a regular carneada for him, except that this time there wasn't meats to roast, but soup. Your mom's special seafood soup that was only done in special occasions. You could tell it would be difficult to leave emotionally unscathed when your mom and dad, three aunties, two cousins, and your brother were there.

Upon you making an appearance before all of them, the world stopped for a second, your breath was caught in your throat as you mentally prepared for the game of pretense.

"Mi niña! Come here!"

Your dad followed by your brother made the first ones in making an approach. The size difference sure was shocking for them all. Your father and brother had to crane his head up to see Miguel.

"¿Qué tal? Un gusto conocerte." (How's it going? Nice to meet you)

Miguel shook his hand with him firmly, something your dad approved. And then Miguel handed the packaged rum to him.

He had explained how you'd told him about his favorite drink. Your dad invited you and introduced Miguel to the whole family.

Some of your cousins oggled him shamelessly. Earning a frown from you.

However the biggest challenge laid ahead. Your mother had been watching both from afar, tending to the food with some of your aunties.

And when it was her time to be greeted, you held tighter on his hand. His thumb rubbing on your skin, reassuring.

You'll be fine.

"Mamá" You mumbled and her so ever deep stare settled on Miguel. Not even in you first, but Miguel.

"Fo you, Ma'am" Miguel gave her the roses which she took with a strained smile.

"Thank you very much. Miguel was it, right?"

"Así es." (Correct)

"Are you hungry? Made your favorite soup."

Her stalking gaze shifted between Miguel and you.

"Thanks. A bit would be nice."

"Hm. Go sit, Miguel. We'll tend to this."

Her gaze returned to the food and you nodded at him. He wasn't comfortable with the idea to just sit and watch. But by the things you had told him, it was better to not create unnecessary drama for you.

-----

Everyone seemed at the expectance of something happening between you and your mother. Your brother was trying to make casual conversation with Miguel, but his curt and simple answers made him desist. Plus, it didn't help his mahogany eyes seemed lighter.

If they were nervous about him looking so big with deep red eyes, they'd surely freak out by his fangs. It instantly made your stomach churn, you knew Miguel didn't appreciate people pointing at his insecurities so brazenly, even worse without knowing him.

Everyone sat down, a little blessing before anything and soon the feast begun.

Of course, eyes were settled on both of you and your interactions. Miguel followed your instructions to then help you break the crab.

One of your aunties smiled at it.

"So, Miguel, where do you work?"

Here we go

"Lab Manager at Alchemax."

Your brother whistled and nodded approvingly, just like your father.

Your relationships with him sure was strained, but at least he seemed to have a bit more self criterion than the rest when it came to pick sides. You'd rather him neutral. Just like your dad.

"Wow, you surely outdid yourself this time, cariño."

That cariño sat sickly fake in your stomach. She was the one that always instigated the fights further when you thought everything would calm down. You didn't smile, just ate.

Miguel was given a beer, a round of collective gasps as he tried to open the beer with his fangs. Your other auntie made a cross sign on herself and your mother's eyes widened.

A custom you still couldn't get out of him.

"Do they hurt?"

"How does one get those? They look so cool!"

"Are they comfortable?"

Your eyes caught the glimpse of him tightening his grip on the spoon.

"Ya pues!" (Knock it off!)

"There is no need to yell"

Silence immediately came to the table as your gaze and your mother's clashed.

"Disculpa eso, Miguel." (Im sorry for that, Miguel)

your dad shook his head at your cousins.

"Do you plan on having kids?"

You couldn't help but hide your face in your palm.

"Mamá, stop."

"What? I just wanna know! You're getting old enough to have kids. And Emanuel is always asking about you."

"We haven't discussed it yet." Miguel cleaned his hands with lemon, rinsing away the fishy smell out of his fingers. The coldness in his voice only matched your mom's icy stare.

"Oh."

"But do you want to have kids, Miguel?"

"Dios mío, ma! Ya basta." (My god, Mom! Enough.)

"Why are you so mad over a question?"

Miguel's jaw clenched. It made sense for him why you didn't visit. The way you rolled your eyes, made the ones that had finished already to stand up and leave. Their cue to leave things unfold.

Your elder auntie seized your mom with a glare. Your dad only recoiled to himself and your brother sighed.

"Ma, eso no se pregunta." The only attempt of him to calm the boiling tension between the two. (Mom, you don't ask such things)

Miguel gave you a 'do you wanna go now' stare. And you shook your head. Leaving would only make things worse. But you found the perfect excuse to leave the table.

"Need help, mi amor?"

"Sure."

He was perceptive to pick up your cues, the both cleared up the table and took the dishes to the sink.

---

"I'm so sorry you had to put up with it." You mumbled as you washed and he dried. The kitchen felt tiny for him.

"S'fine."

"Are you mad?"

"A bit uncomfortable. But no, not mad."

"We're leaving after we're done here." a deep sigh escaped your lips, "This is exactly why I don't come here."

"Whose Emanuel?" You groaned and shook your head.

"A man mom thought it was fun to pair me with a long time ago. I never indulged him but he never got the memo ever since I left this place"

"Sounds like he never got over you."

"Yeah, cause mom kept feeding his hopes of me getting with him together."

"Is that why you moved out?"

"One of the reasons, yeah."

You finished the dishes and Miguel excused himself to the bathroom.

He could hear the voices from the other side. One of your aunts surely and your mom.

"I give them a year."

"Did you see his... fangs? I've never seen something like that! And his eyes too!"

"Esta niña... Me va a sacar canas verdes. From all The guys she could pick, she gets one that is twice her size. Why she can't pick up normal guys?" (This girl, will get me green hairs)

Miguel's eyes turned apprehensive as his mouth settled in a straight line.

He had to hunch over the sink to take a look of himself in the mirror. He looked pretty normal, by any standards, until of course, he smiled. Pointy canines bigger than the average people stood out the most. His eyes were a different shade of brown. That was all.

He was fine.

He was normal.

He knew things like this would happen, he expected a bit of trouble. Not this.

His head felt heavy. Sudden spiral thoughts plagued his mind, corrupting the good things he held dear in his mind.

"As long as he's rich, don't care."

"Emanuel's surely richer than him"

That was the final straw. He knew you weren't that type of woman. Hell, you had invited him multiple times, knowing that you'd get broke for a couple of weeks. And still did it anyways. You loved to pamper him.

Why?

His steps guided him back to you. You were stressed and surely would cry at night. But so far you were keeping it together.

Your heart sunk a bit when looking at him. Neither of the both could stand being a second longer in the house. He followed you as you said your goodbyes. You didn't hug none but your elder aunt, and your dad, though the latter got an awkward hug.

You went back home. Neither of you said much during the trip back.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#t writes✨#Pre Soccer Family ⚽🕷️

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spriteofmushrooms · 6 months

Text

Wei Wuxian sipped the wine Lan Zhan brought from Gusu in one of Jinlin Tai's many ostentatious peony gardens. He had found a branch in a ginkgo tree that was high enough that no one should see him at a glance where he still had a good view of the moon between the yellow leaves. It wasn't the worst way he could have spent his time at the Discussion Conference. Lan Zhan, for example, had to be xiandu. What could possibly be worse than that?

"Jin Ling, what's the matter now?"

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. Really, Jiang Cheng is such a wronged mother. He plays his part like a grand madam.

"Do you think Zizhen-ge is a better sect leader than I am?" Jin Ling hissed.

"What?" Wei Wuxian looked down. Through the branches, he could see Jiang Cheng's silver lotus guan glimmer with his head shake. "Where did you get that from? A-Ling, sit and explain."

"You complimented him in front of everyone," Jin Ling grumbled, but he flounced onto the bench.

Jiang Cheng folded himself gracefully, careful of the drape of his robes. "It's his first conference. All I did was walk him through presenting himself, like a junior should be treated."

"You liked his proposal."

"You like it, too, brat. Besides, a little support in the beginning keeps the old men at bay."

Jin Ling knocked his shoulder against Jiang Cheng's. "So it's not because you always wanted a poet for a nephew?"

Wei Wuxian couldn't see it, but he could imagine Jiang Cheng's face. But when Jiang Cheng spoke, it didn't match the tone he expected. Sad, but trying to joke. "After the poems Zixuan wrote?"

"A-Die wrote poems?"

Oh, oh, Wei Wuxian wanted to leave.

"Once he became enlightened, he was devout. 'Rain pearls on lotus leaves which bow gracefully/Thoughts of you collect and overwhelm me.' A-jie blushed for weeks." Jiang Cheng sighed. "The Jinlin Tai library should have them all somewhere. Please don't let Ouyang-gongzi read them."

Jin Ling huffed a laugh and threw his arm around Jiang Cheng's shoulder, which is when Wei Wuxian realized Jin Ling was taller and broader now. He hadn't seen them side by side in years. A light breeze stirred the gingko leaves and lifted the scent of peonies.

"Hanguang-jun didn't murder anyone with his eyes today," Jin Ling chirped. "Do you think he's starting to like politics?"

"Don't."

"Jiujiu..."

"He's the xiandu, Jin Ling. What do you think would happen if anyone overheard you disrespect him, especially while hosting the conference?"

Jin Ling groaned and threw his head back dramatically, jostling Jiang Cheng. Briefly, Wei Wuxian amused himself by imagining what Yu-furen would have made of her grandson. Then he gently slapped himself. "You're so boring, jiujiu! It's not like he respects either of us."

Jiang Cheng snapped, "I didn't realize you aspired to be so immature and irresponsible."

Immature? Irresponsible? Jiang Cheng had a lot of nerve! Wei Wuxian would tell him so, but then he would have to admit to hiding in a tree. Jiang Cheng would be so annoying about it, and Wei Wuxian really didn't want to bother!

"Aiya, jiujiu, if I can't complain to you about him, who can I? No one else sees what he's like."

Jiang Cheng leaned against Jin Ling, but then he ruined the picture by saying, "It's good that most people can't tell. If half of the sects ran to Zewu-jun with complaints about his beloved didi, he would leave seclusion before he was ready."

They were quiet for a few moments. Suddenly, Jin Ling burst out, "Do you really not care?"

Jiang Cheng paused. "About?"

"You know I spend time with—him!"

"You're sixteen, Jin Ling. Your memory should be good enough to remember every other time you've poked at this. And use his name; he doesn't actually appear every time you call."

"Wei-qianbei misses you!" Jin Ling grabbed Jiang Cheng's shoulders and started to gently shake him back and forth, but then Jiang Cheng pushed his hands away and stood.

"As you are clearly feeling better, I will leave first," Jiang Cheng hissed.

Jin Ling zipped in front of Jiang Cheng, blocking his path. "Jiujiu, I don't understand you at all! You want to talk to him, and he wants to talk to you. Why are you waiting?"

"He wants to talk to me so much that I learned about his elopement from gossiping disciples? He wants to talk to me so much that he lives in Cloud Recesses, which he hates? He wants to talk to me so much that he ignores Lan Wangji's hand on Bichen every time we meet?" With each question, Jiang Cheng prowled forward, and Jin Ling backed up.

"I don't think he hates Cloud Recesses..."

That's right; Wei Wuxian didn't. Lan Zhan was there, for one thing. And the juniors!

"That's because you don't fucking know him," Jiang Cheng snapped.

"Oh, and you do? When you won't even talk to him?"

"I was his assignment, Jin Ling. He either played with me or starved; he either trained to be the best or lost his position." Jiang Cheng laughed, dark and mean. "Not that I noticed."

"Jiujiu..."

"Let him live the life he wants, Jin Ling. Let me go to bed."

#pallas.rtf #mdzs #my writing #went through my old wips

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doodle-pops · 6 months

Text

House of Fingolfin | Being In An Arranged Marriage With Them

A/N: This takes place in Valinor, in a no–darkening verse and arranged marriages are common traditions among the elves. By now, I'm considering this an AU within the Silm verse with all the ideas that’s been swimming in my mind after writing each headcanon (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Warnings: feelings of neglect and loneliness, resentment, disputes, there is some comfort, angst because it's an arranged marriage

Arranged Marriage AU: Arafinweans ver.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingolfin

Fingolfin strongly resents being told what to do. However, if complying benefits his family and upholds his royal status as an exemplar for princes, he will reluctantly follow through. In this context, he would have no significant objections to an arranged marriage.

He genuinely believes in his father’s good intentions and considers his mother’s agreement as final. Fingolfin would attentively attend the meeting, listening to the criteria and rationale for the arrangement while occasionally glancing at your disheartened expression.

Initially, he might struggle to comprehend why you don’t view the situation as a win–win, given that you’re marrying a prince and about to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle. The notion of being forced into this or having a lover only dawns on Fingolfin when his younger brother or a friend brings it up.

He’s determined to make the relationship work and hopes you won’t be confrontational or resist connecting with each other. Your reluctance to make things work is a source of frustration for him, but his pride prevents him from complaining to others.

But it is important to keep in mind that as much as he’s fighting you to make this work, he is respectful of your boundaries and personal space.

“I may have been slow to realise your reservations about the arrangement, but may I ask that you at least attempt not to distance yourself when all I want is for this to go smoothly? Yes, we will be married soon, but I’m not suggesting a romantic involvement, just a basic level of cooperation to ease the tension, please.”

He’s eager to make the arrangement a success because he sees it as essential for his role as a prince and a way to outshine his older brother. In Fingolfin’s perspective, this is a competition, albeit unfortunate for you.

You must assert that for this relationship to work, it shouldn’t be a platform for competition or jealousy, but rather something mutually beneficial and meaningful. You seek a partner you can rely on and trust, while he desires a confidant.

Despite the challenges, you enjoy a royal lifestyle with extravagant parties, balls, and dinners, access to the finest materials and food, a luxurious house designed to your liking, and any other desired indulgence. Fingolfin explicitly mentions that the house was created with your preferences in mind in hopes of ensuring some form of comfort is achieved.

An added benefit of the relationship is Fingolfin’s trust in your abilities as a mediator and leader. As a means to enhance communication, he gradually opens up and seeks your advice in the hopes of strengthening the arrangement.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Fingon

Initially, when the news was broken to him, Fingon found it all rather amusing. He doubled over and laughed in his father’s face, thinking it was some kind of joke. It took a while for the seriousness of the situation to sink in, and he soon realised that this was no laughing matter. Fingon is a free–spirited individual who believes in choosing when to marry, not never for political reasons, as was the case in this instance.

When you’re in the room, Fingon prefers to keep his anger in check and maintain a pleasant demeanour, as he doesn’t want to frighten you. He’s well aware that you had no say in this decision, and his father is the only one he has an issue with.

The sorrowful look on his face when he meets your eyes is heart–wrenching, as both of you are victims of politics. Despite the circumstances, he does his best to shield you from the harsh reality and maintain the illusion of a simple friendship.

Among all his siblings and his father, Fingon is undoubtedly the most agreeable elf to be married to. Despite his inner turmoil and his father’s constant pressure to make the relationship work, he remains cheerful and amiable in your company, ensuring your comfort throughout the entire engagement.

However, in the early days of the marriage, he was the complete opposite of his usual self, largely due to your reserved nature. He was distant and mostly silent as he grappled with controlling his temper, trying to figure out how to make the relationship work.

If he’s going to be your husband against his will, he’s determined to be the best one you could hope for. Do you require your space? You got it. Do you not wish to see or speak to him? He’ll respect it. Do you want him to stop pretending that everything’s perfect? You’ll get that as well, although it may not be what you expect.

“You might be expecting me to shout, scream, or completely ignore you. I couldn’t bring myself to do any of that, though, as it’s not how my mother raised me to behave when I’m dissatisfied... I understand that you see through the façade I put up; it’s mostly to get my father off my back. But it’s not an act when I’m around you.”

Count on Fingon to make your forced marriage bearable and tolerable. He alleviates the typical anxiety associated with arranged marriages by filling it with unconditional love, support, appreciation, and trust. He never lets the burden fall on you and always stands by your side, ready to defend you.

One thing he won’t tolerate is anyone belittling your role as his spouse, whether it’s from your family or his. He respects your choices and ensures that you’re comfortable before engaging in anything personal.

Fingon never rushes you into anything uncomfortable and allows you to make decisions, trusting your judgment and revealing his vulnerability. He sees this as a hopeful approach to overcoming the arranged marriage label that hangs over your heads.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Turgon

Even if it were his father delivering the news that an arranged marriage was necessary to uphold the family name, Turgon was on the verge of overturning a table and vanishing before his father could reveal your name. However, Turgon knew he wouldn’t get far before being compelled to return home and address the situation.

It was the gloomiest atmosphere in recent memory when he was in the room, glaring at your presence as you entered with your family. The whole ordeal made him feel nauseous, especially when he observed how supportive his mother was in the matter.

Turgon didn’t speak or acknowledge your existence. If you were residing in your preexisting home, you both slept in separate quarters. He even made an effort to become familiar with your schedule to ensure you didn’t cross paths because he wanted to avoid giving the impression of any interest in making things work.

It felt like living alone with a brooding spectre who constantly muttered under his breath as though he was casting a spell. He was quick to anger and often directed his frustration at everyone around him, not just his and your parents. Congratulations, you were arranged to someone who unjustly blamed you.

Like his cousins, you had to assert yourself and demand respect, forcing your voice above his constant grumbling.

“Listen, I’ll make this clear just once, so don’t make me repeat myself. Stop blaming me and direct your frustrations at my parents and yours. We’re in this together whether we like it or not—so accept it and put an end to the complaining, just like I did. We’re going to make this work—we don’t have to share a bed or be best friends, but we should find common ground and understanding. I won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, as it’s proven to be pointless, so stop whining and work with me!”

You earned his respect because no one had the audacity to confront him like that without fearing his explosive anger. From that day on, there was a subtle change in the household routine, like not avoiding your schedules and sharing the same space (excluding the bedroom).

Any attempts at conversation were initiated by you, and you had to strain your ears to catch his mumbled responses. When it came to public appearances, he was as stiff as a board and communicated sparingly.

However, it was his instinct to defend you and his family if anyone made disrespectful comments about your situation. That was something for him and you to contemplate, not for others to meddle in, so someone would be put in their place. That night, you saw the most emotion from him apart from his temper.

An incident like that brought you both a step closer to displaying your emotions and feelings, particularly your protectiveness toward him. As simple as it may seem, he wanted to know about your day and if anyone insulted you when you were out. It was a step in the growth of your relationship.

☆ . ࣪ ˖ ࿐ Argon

Argon is fucking bewildered and struggling to comprehend the situation because he’s still a young individual being informed of an arranged marriage he never wanted. He responds with profanity and loud protests until his father intervenes to calm him down.

He despises every moment of it, particularly when he recalls how his cousins and brothers were subjected to the same process. He can’t believe he’s in the same situation despite his strong desire to find love on his own. Even if you were present in the room, his anger blinds him to your concern.

For days to weeks, you two may not exchange words, with occasional glances and stares being the only form of communication. Even after the marriage, he only engages in minimal conversation, ensuring your well–being and comfort in the shared space, though his tone is often filled with bitterness.

Initially, your marriage feels like cohabitating with a mere housemate, as your interactions are limited to household chores. Meaningful conversations based on your interests are virtually non–existent. It would take significant time and effort before either of you musters the courage to address the awkward silence in the house, ideally during breakfast.

“May I speak? No, it’s not about breakfast; it’s about us. We’ve been living like roommates for months, hardly even acquaintances. All we do together is eat and do chores. I know you’re still upset about this arrangement—so am I—but I’d appreciate it if we could replace this white noise with something resembling friendship. We’re already living together, so we’re past the stage of being strangers.”

Argon is genuinely sorry to discover that you desire more meaningful interactions rather than distance, which he had assumed. Your first breakthrough occurs when you jest about his misinterpretation of your gestures, breaking the awkward silence with a touch of Argon’s playful nature.

Following in the footsteps of his eldest brother, he emulates his gestures in the hopes of fostering a deeper connection. Although his emotions make him eager and impulsive, he doesn’t want you to bear the blame for his dissatisfaction.

Eventually, a level of vulnerability emerges in your discussions, allowing both of you to overcome this significant turning point in your lives. More joy and laughter infuse the household as you both express your opinions, views on the situation, and expectations for the future. Given his youth and the wealth of advice he’s received on arranged marriages, he engages in meaningful conversations to ensure you share the same expectations.

He has no intention of subjecting you to the mistreatment that others might inflict on their spouses, placing trust in you and expecting the same in return. For the majority of your marriage, despite lingering awkwardness, you manage to build a friendship with someone who is open and respectful.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind

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potatobugxo · 2 months

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Hey I saw your have requests open and I was wondering if you were willing to write a very fem presenting f!reader who is ace but doesn't really care how she is perceived based on her taste in clothes or the infamous being walked into while changing x Alastor and Lucifer (separate, together or just one of the two. However you like it).

How would they react? I think Al would be ever the gentleman and maybe appreciate that he can just be and live with the body he was given and she would look in his eyes even if he'd be bathing or something (ngl I think bathing together is such a cute thing and I hate that lewd minds ruin the innosence in it and the level of trust and comfort with one's self and another one can gain from it)

Like he is not just some hot piece of ass but a person in her mind no matter how he is presenting himself.

As for Lucifer I think he'd be curious about how she sees those situations as sensual and innocent where everyone else would just jump to sex and maybe find comfort in her view of him.

Or just a very oblivious sweet f!reader with them.

Idk if I make much sense and if you don't want to write it that's perfectly fine. I hope you have a lovely day!

Thank you so much!!!!

i really like the contrast between these two for this idea!! i wasnt sure if you meant them walking in on the reader changing or the reader walking in on them changing (so i went with both sjsjfs) and thank u bby i hope you have a lovely day as well <33 warnings: mentioned nudity (not graphically described) lucifer's part is more suggestive silly

walking in on alastor/lucifer changing & vice versa (seperate)

you walking in on him changing:

"o-oh! uh! sorry, sweetheart! i didn't, uh, see you there!"

very flustered right off the bat. man was in the middle of putting his pants on when you walked in okay he was not emotionally prepared

you just blink at him widely and then smile, saying, "dinner's ready whenever you're hungry!" before abruptly leaving

f l a b b e r g h a s t e d

lucifer knows your ace but he thought you'd have more of a reaction to seeing him with his lil white booty hanging out

he joins you for dinner later and you make conversation about your day as if you didn't just witness his bare cheeks walking in on you changing:

"OH GOOD GOLLY UH, SORRY ABOUT THAT!"

his wheeze laugh really comes through with this one

"oh, it's okay, luci, i was just getting ready for bed."

he doesn't know what to do, should he cover his eyes and turn his back to be polite?? should he leave?? is he allowed to stare??

you just continue to take your clothes off and put your pajamas on while he's gawking like an idiot trying to think of what he should do

by the time he snaps out of it you're shimmying under the covers and patting the pillow beside you for him to join

it's obviously okay for him to change in front of you now so he does and rolls under the covers beside you

poor guy has a tough time understanding how you can be so innocent, a sweet lil smile on your face as you snuggle up to him with nothing but a shirt on and no ulterior motive

you walking in on him changing:

he'd be in the middle of removing his dress shirt when you stride into his room

"alastor are you- oh are you getting ready for bed?"

"why, you're right on time my dear! i was just about to take a bath. care to join me?"

you both are asexual you got no problems here 💀

bathtime is something alastor genuinely enjoys with you because he knows you won't feel uncomfortable or make things weird

he loves when you wash his hair for him and he enjoys giving you shoulder rubs

he's content that neither of you are ashamed of your bodies nor ashamed of showing them as there is no sexual motives to any of it

walking in on you changing:

"oh, my apologies my dear!"

he would be strolling into your room while you're slipping into your regular attire for the day

very gentlemanly, and even though he knows you're okay with showing your body around him he's still polite about it and turns on his heel to avert his gaze

"it's okay alastor, it's no problem!"

sometimes if you'll allow him to, he'll assist you as you change, for example pulling your overshirt or coat over your shoulders, or assisting with pulling your boots on

its a sweet way for him to express his affection for you! he needs to treat his lady right after all!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #hcs #bug writes🦋

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mysteriawrites · 6 months

Note

Hey can you write about Luxiem having a crush on the reader who is also a nijisanji vtuber? I just can imagine how cute that will be

Of course I can dear requester (requestee?). Here you go!

Luxiem with a Vtuber S/O

An: I had my own idea for a vtuber wave that I’m gonna use for this but feel free to use your imagination

You and your genmates are part of the royalty themed wave: REGALIA

Luca Kaneshiro

You were the bright and cheery royal of your wave. The stereotypical royal that brought a smile to everyone's face, was a friend to everyone, and shined bright like the sun just like our boss.

You and Luca are always goofing off during collabs. You guys usually play Minecraft and team up to prank the other members (and sometimes each other).

Luca also uses your collabs as an excuse to use his pickup lines on you so he can play them off as jokes as to not be embarrassed for being so cheesy.

You guys inevitably end up working on a cover together. Whether you work on the art, the animation, the mixing, or do vocals with him it ends up being a huge hit. Breaking 1 million views in less than 24 hours.

In group collabs you two proceed to be absolute menaces. No one is safe from your relentless trolling. Whether it's crab game, among us, Mario cart, or goose goose duck you'll have half of the branch in a fit of rage by the end. Truly a terrifying duo.

Shu Yamino

You were the mysterious royal of your wave. Your aura exuded power and beauty as well as danger.

You and Shu mainly play fighter games or fps games together. If you're good at these types of games then you make a formidable team that guarantees victory, but if not, Shu doesn't mind teaching you. He's just glad to have someone to share his favorite games with.

He also likes to play silly games with you like that bunny game. You guys are in perfect sync, and even when you're not you have so much fun laughing and talking that it doesn't matter if you beat the level or not.

I feel like you guys would have a Lego building handcam stream. No real reason it just seems right. You guys build the most intricate structure that it's honestly intimidating.

It's noticeable to everyone how much Shu loves streaming with you, because he laughs so much more. He's sillier goofier and more unhinged and having fun and the chat can feel the chemistry and positive energy a mile away.

Ike Eveland

You were the quiet, smart, and bookish royal. Always a book in hand with elegance and grace.

You and Ike partner up to play story games. If there is no in game voice acting, you two will take turns voicing different characters and putting on a whole performance for chat.

You guys also do covers together. If you don't feel confident about your singing ability, then Ike will coach you and help you build up your confidence. Man really wants to hear your voice.

You guys will also do watch a long streams of your favorite films or anime. Gushing about your favorite characters and scenes. He thinks it's it really cute when you're excited about your favorite character (and maybe just a little jealous).

At first Ike is more quiet and polite whenever you guys' stream together, but as time goes on, he becomes more mischievous and teasing. He won't admit it, but he thinks your reactions are cute (just like the rest of you) and it makes him want to tease you more.

Mysta Rias

You were the rowdy and rebellious royal. Always stirring up mischief and not letting anyone tell you what to do.

You are Mysta's emotional support when it comes to scary games. This can go one of two ways. Either you're good with horror games and you're actually helpful, or you're also bad with horror games and you're both screaming your heads off. At the end of the day though you both had fun either way (even if you can't sleep that night).

You're the voice of reason during cooking streams. Even if you're not a great cook you can't be bad as him. At the very least you manage to save yourselves from food poisoning.

You two also play silly co-op games like keep talking and nobody explodes. It's funnier when you both share a braincell and have to figure out how to work together to beat the game.

Mysta may not collab often, but you're his favorite person to collab with. You have plenty of misadventures in off collabs too.

Vox Akuma

You were the warrior royal. Always protecting others and standing up for what you believe in.

You and Vox would have cooking streams together. Whether you're good at cooking or absolute shit, you two will have fun goofing off in the kitchen and still make a meal that's at least edible.

You guys also have film discussion podcast like streams where you talk about the latest films. You discuss your thoughts and opinions about the film, but also deep things like symbolism and what the directors and actors were thinking.

You know how Vox is when it comes to Ike. Well, he's like that, but times 10 when it comes to you. Flirting with you at every chance and gushing about you every time you achieve something significant in your streaming career.

Sometimes his chat will make jokes about who he loves more you or Ike? He will answer cheekily "Why choose I have two hands~", but he always makes sure you know that he of course loves you more.

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howdoesagrapewrites · 9 months

Note

Hobie x spiderperson!reader where they both have COMPLETELY different types but they're so attracted to eo for some reason???

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚

Cw: Hobie Brown x reader, just fluff

>I don't think Hobie has a defined type, like, as long as you're not a fascist he's not one to be like "not my type"

>But he has something I would call "type by proximity" you know? He always hangs out with the same kind of people, so all his dates and hookups were always similar in style

>He has dated a variety of people though, different in a lot of aspects, just that they're all punks

>There are some views he has that he needs to share with his partner, but they're pretty down to earth and some very logic considering his political background

>He wouldn't get surprised or weirded out when he realizes he's romantically attracted to you, it just happens very organically

>His friends would be the ones to point it out (the ones from his dimension)

>"they certainly ain't Hobie's regular", "But he looks happy, innit?"

>But if you happened to be just the tiniest bit taken aback because of your new found crush, he'll notice, and definitely tease you about it

>If all your previous partners were goody goody two shoes, he's definitely, laughing, I'm sorry (though is unclear if he's laughing at them or you)

>He's honestly all up for the opposites attract kind of thing

>He'd definitely hype you up if you wear any kind of alternative fashion, it doesn't matter if it's something not even remotely close to his aesthetic

>I think he keeps a piece of you in his attire, maybe a necklace (pendant, choker, whatever) or a piece of fabric of an old item of clothing you threw out for any reason, if this is a "he was a punk they, did ballet" situation he finds so cute to have a pink article of clothing in his battle jacket, maybe it's cute earrings with the shape of a heart, teddy bear, ice cream cone, or anything adorable, or maybe it's a patch of pink fabric sewed in between all his pins and patches, to add a little more color

>If you mention he's not your usual type at a confession, he has the knowing smirk of someone who will weaponize this your entire relationship

>"No, it's not like that, it's just that you're far from my go-to type when it comes to dating"

>"So ya don't find me pretty, sweetheart?" He get really close just to fluster you

>"I do, but you're, um, a little different"

>"Why bother being so consistent? You may get impressed if you give good ol' punk scoundrel a chance"

>He likes that you're different, that you can show him new things, he's not one to stay in the same unmoving place for a long time, if he's serious, he needs you to know he'll never stay still, he craves the constant dopamine hit of learning new subjects

>He'd feel really flattered if you incorporated something of him to your daily life, whether it's his guts, disregard for the authority or black nails and spikes

#atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #spiderpunk x reader

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literary-motif · 3 months

Text

Black Daffodils

Zaros Atha'lin x Reader

You're poisoned. Thankfully, Zaros knows his way around plants.

“You cannot be serious,” you said, looking at Zaros as if he had just proposed burning down the library.

The two of you were taking a stroll by the garden, having just finished eating dinner together. Zaros had taken the opportunity of the meeting to fly into one of his rambles, explaining his grand visions and plans for the future if he were to succeed in the trials and ascend to the throne. It had been straining to keep your composure and smile politely at him to keep up appearances, especially since he had put it into his head to tease you relentlessly and with such vigor that you were sure ‘mocking’ would be a more appropriate term.

Zaros raised an eyebrow, shooting a sidelong glance at you. “Yes, sure. You think just because something has been a certain way for centuries that it should not be changed — it gave you a position of power, after all. It suited you to keep the common people groveling at your feet like the spoiled brat you are—”

Your laugh made him pause. It was not the usual incredulous amusement coming from you as he told a truth you did not want to believe, this was real, genuine amusement, laced with a pitying heaviness that made him feel as if you had found a chink in his armor.

“And here I thought you were smart beyond your botany,” you said, shaking your head, “you’re so naive.”

Zaros exhaled incredulously. “Me?” he asked, disbelieving, “really?”

“You are, with your values and ideas and utopias,” you said, holding his gaze to convey how serious you were, “they are all great, honestly. I’m happy for you if you know what to believe in and what to fight for, but it’s all theory. What do you think will happen if you take the throne and change the very foundation our nation is built on overnight, dismantling the societal classes, tearing apart the system and the political principles we govern by?”

“How rich. So we should just keep the status quo because it suits you? That’s not—!”

“Shut up for a moment, Zaros,” you snapped, taking hold of his arm to halt his steps, “Do you really think the throne gives you power? You need to play the system, in it rather than against it, and twist it out of shape enough to incorporate your ideas, but never break it. Do you honestly believe the entire nation would not revolt against you the moment you start dismantling our society according to your wishes? The nobility hates you already, you’re right about that. Do you think you can rule without them? Alone?”

“I rule for the people the nobility has forgotten about and never even looked at in the first place,” Zaros answered coldly, “I’m not alone.”

You chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that, but remember that people hate sudden changes. It will only be a matter of time until your policy of revolution starts annoying them and then, you need strong allies to appease the masses and back up your right to rule. If you discard the entire nobility as self-righteous snobs, you’ll be alone against the world.” You started walking again, leaving Zaros to follow with furrowed brows. “And you know how fast solitude kills in our lives.”

Zaros was deep in contemplation, looking through the stone arches of the courtyard to view the garden. He stared at the nobles strolling through it in the darkness of the evening as if they held the ultimate truth and shook his head, meeting your gaze briefly in the dim light coming from the palace wall.

“I think you’re wrong,” he said, smiling at you so disingenuously that it made your mouth twist in distaste. You had hit a nerve. It was evident from how he turned his gaze to look straight ahead, picking up the pace to walk briskly across the paved part of the courtyard adjoining the garden. “I would reform the system for the people it systematically oppresses. I— I don’t need the nobility to back me up if I have the favor of the many!”

The conviction in his tone was almost comical. It felt good finally being able to get under his skin. It was your time to tease him and, adjusting your pace to follow closely behind him, you smirked to yourself, wondering which buttons to push to get Zaros to snap. “Leader of the masses, oh popular one?” you baited.

Zaros growled, “Mocking me, are you? Well, not everyone had the privilege to be born into the spotlight. We common mortals need to earn favor and respect, and I intend to do just that as I topple the injustice in our world!”

You hummed in acknowledgement of his words as if they were a mildly interesting expression of an idea you had already discarded. “You would have a revolt on your hands as fast as—”

“As fast as what?” Zaros asked challengingly as you cut off, “Have you run out of similes?” There was no quick, angry reply as he expected, only silence. He could no longer hear your footsteps following behind him, so he turned, puzzled.

In the dim light, he could see you leaning against the stonewall separating the courtyard from the garden, your eyebrows furrowed and breaths labored. You were pale, one hand resting against your chest as if you had difficulty breathing, the other placed against the stone to hold yourself upright.

“What is it?” Zaros asked in confusion.

“I—” you began, but could only gasp as your knees buckled. Your hand roamed across the stone, trying to find purchase as you crumbled to the ground. Zaros rushed forward in an instant, catching you in his arms.

“Help!” he yelled, causing the nobles strolling through the garden to turn their head at his panicked cry. “Someone get the chief curer, hurry!” his eyes were wide with worry, searching your face hastily for any indication of what was happening to you.

Some of the nobles had gathered around the two of you, gasps and murmurs flying through the crowd at seeing you slumped against the wall with half-lidded, delirious eyes and a wheezing breath. Zaros paid them no mind, focused entirely on you.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, cupping your cheeks with unsteady hands, “Hey, look at me. I’m right here.”

You mumbled something unintelligible that sounded somewhat like his name.

Tilting your head to the side slightly, Zaros saw a faint discoloration on your cheek, spread across it in the form of a tree branch. “I—” he breathed, his brain taking a moment to connect what he saw to a poison he had been forced to study. “I know,” he whispered in a sudden epiphany, tearing his gaze away from you to look towards the garden. “A moment, I’ll be right back, my heart, only a moment,” he rushed out, dropping his hands from your face and darting into the garden, ignoring your muffled whimper of protest.

When he returned, the chief curer had just kneeled next to you, starting his examination. “Move!” Zaros said briskly to the nobles barring you from him and pushed through the crowd of onlookers. Ignoring the curer, he tilted your head towards him, placing a few green petals in your mouth. “Don’t swallow them,” he instructed gently, leaving a hand on your cheek as the other found yours, squeezing comfortingly, “These petals are a natural remedy for various types of poison. You should be better in a moment.”

“What is the reason for this commotion?” Queen Roena’s clear, sharp voice cut through the murmuring crowd, silencing them in an instant. The curer sprang up to bow and explained hastily that he could not yet tell.

Zaros did not leave your side, helping you sit up properly once the antidote allowed you to move again and holding out a handkerchief for you to dispose of the petals. “Help me up,” you whispered to him after regaining your breath, and Zaros obliged, keeping his arm firmly around your waist to hold you upright.

“It will take some time for you to recover completely,” he said quietly, putting more of your weight on him, “You’ll likely be weak for a day or two, but no longer than that.” You groaned in reply.

“What happened?” Queen Roena asked, looking at the two of you with confusion and worry. Her gaze lingered on you, silently checking you over.

You cleared your throat. “Well, your Eminence, that’s not easy to say. You see, one moment I was engaged in a most pleasant debate with my— my acquaintance here, and the next I found myself on the ground, out of breath and unable to move.”

“They were poisoned, your Eminence,” Zaros said, but before he could add anything, the chief curer interrupted him.

“And how would you know that?” he asked, distaste evident in his tone.

“I have studied the poison that evokes exactly these symptoms,” Zaros said to him before turning his gaze back to the Queen, who was looking at him intently. “That is why I knew which antidote to search for in the garden.”

“How very convenient,” the curer observed and a tide of new whispering erupted from the crowd. Zaros could feel his blood starting to boil at the suspicion turned on him.

“Zaros,” you said breathlessly, closing your eyes briefly to stop the world from spinning around you. “I need to lay down. Walk me to my room?”

“Of course.”

“Your Eminence, is that wise?” the chief curer’s voice was faintly audible to you, moving away from the crowd with Zaros by your side. “What if he's only waiting to be alone with them to finish what he started, to eliminate his contestant for—” Zaros huffed beside you, continuing to lead you away.

No matter how much he insisted that he did not care about what those around him thought of him, you could see beyond his carefully constructed mask and had always noticed how much it bothered him. Although he never acted on it, choosing instead to remain passive and seemingly nonchalant at their words, the epitome of calm collectedness. Deep down, you had seen it gnawing at his heart, and it did still, evident in the hurt shining in his eyes.

“This one,” you nodded toward a wooden door to your right, leading to your chambers. “Right, thank you. I’ve got it from here. I’ll just—” You twisted out of Zaros’ arms, bracing yourself against the wall to keep from falling. You underestimated your strength, however, and would have collapsed to the ground if Zaros had not caught you again.

He chuckled hollowly but without malice, as he adjusted his grip and led you into your room. “Yes, I can see how well you’ve got it,” he said, setting you down on the bed, “Stubborn like always. What is it with you and thinking you’re above such feeble things as being helped? A side effect of your upbringing, I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, leaning back on the pillows with a groan and closing your eyes. The feeling of a hand on your forehead made them snap open again. Zaros was looking at you with an unreadable expression, perched on the side of your bed. “Like what you see?” you murmured, trying to crack his serious demeanor. He did not smile, mouth twisting into a tight line.

“Here,” he helped you sit up slowly, handing you a glass of water. “Drink, it helps.”

“Oh, does it?” you teased, taking small sips, “Did you poison that too to get rid of me and start your top-down revolution?”

His reaction was immediate. “Seriously?” he raised his voice in a near scream that made you jump, “What, you think I’d kill you for my own gain? You think I’d go over your dead body to implement my ideas?” Zaros leaped to his feet, looking down at you with rage and betrayal shining in his eyes. “You’re just as bad as everyone else!”

“Sit down, Zaros,” you said tiredly, taking hold of his arm and tugging him towards the bed. “I’m only teasing.” Your eyelids were starting to drop of their own accord, exhaustion finally overtaking you.

A part of you was afraid to rest, considering what had happened. You were poisoned, and although the realization had not entirely set in yet, the thought of laying asleep, defenseless against the poisoner, made you shudder.

“I know you’d never—” you said, holding onto Zaros’ hand as he sat on the bed again. He had a frown on his face and you could tell he was biting back a sarcastic remark or sharp jab of some kind. “I know you’d never hurt me,” you finished, eyes drifting shut with a content sigh at having him near you.

Despite your differences, you knew you could trust Zaros. He wore his ideals on his sleeve, and you had been acquainted long enough to get a feeling for the sort of person he was.

Looking at your entwined fingers, he swallowed thickly, the frown on his face replaced with a soft expression as his gaze drifted over your sleeping face. He reached up his free hand to brush tenderly through your hair, contemplating how improper it would be to lay down beside you and keep you safe.

#sakuverse #zsakuva zaros #zsakuva #zaros atha'lin #yes I looked up his surname #zaros x reader #zaros atha'lin x reader

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toru-oikawas-milkbread · 1 year

Text

Sleepy Cuddles With Diavolo

Pairing: Lord Diavolo x f!reader

Word count: 2K

Warnings/contents: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Notes: I don’t think I really have much to say for this. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it was so much fun to take his character and make him such a sweet and loving fiancé who’d be on your side no matter what. So, with the thought in mind, I rolled with the idea and 2k words later, here we are! I hope that you guys can enjoy this chapter!

<>~<>~<>

Truth be told, the rumors were getting to you. That you were only with Diavolo because he was someone so important. That you were less interested in him and more his money, his heritage, even his body. For the longest time you laughed them off, but it seemed as the years went on they were only growing more intense.

To battle off the annoyance you felt from the constant rumors, you decided to get a job. Going from a child who had everything handed to her in the Devildom to falling for the young Lord, you’d never so much as needed to think of getting a job to make cash. But now, you simply weren’t in it for the money. Instead you were trying to appeal to the people of the Devildom. You thought that maybe if you showed yourself to the public more, if you were viewed as more than Lord Diavolo’s fiancée, that people would see you as more than a lowly gold digger who’s dried up money drove her to any length possible to continue the lavish life that she’d lived.

So you got a job at one of your favorite restaurants: Hell’s Kitchen. A constantly busy, understaffed restaurant that was always looking for new employees.

Often times you ended up serving your oldest friends; Beelzebub, Belphegor and occasionally the other brothers when they would tag along. After joining the Hell’s Kitchen team, you were surprised at how quickly everybody, even the customers, had welcomed you to what some pessimistically teased you as calling “The lower world.” However, Beel’s words were at the front of your mind when people said such things to you.

“Don’t worry about them. They don’t matter. More people here like you than dislike you.”

After a month now of working daily at Hell’s Kitchen, you’d grown accustomed to the working life; you’d grown fond of the regulars and even made friends with most of your coworkers, as fleeting as some of them may be. After some time, it seemed at the rumors were slowly dying off. That your plan to get people to realize you were in it for the long run with the entirety of the Devildom was working.

However you weren’t ready to leave the place you’d joined almost reluctantly a month ago. You felt like you were at home when you were at Hell’s Kitchen. As much as you missed getting in bed with Diavolo and instead coming home after he was already asleep, you were enjoying the time you spent with other people.

But that didn’t mean that you weren’t sometimes more exhausted than normal when you returned back to the place that you called home with Diavolo. With a yawn, you leaned back into the dining room chair and rubbed your tired eyes. You quickly opened them and sent a smile at Barbatos as he poured you a warm cup of your favorite, sweet smelling tea and set it in front of you.

“Thank you, Barbatos.”

“Of course,” he said politely. “You seem more worn out than usual tonight, if you don’t mind me saying.” You took a sip of your tea and nodded before speaking.

“Today was extremely busy and two people quit yesterday so more tables than normal were left up to me alone.”

“Is that why you had to work more hours?” He inquired as he used a feather duster on the shelf by the window, though he was clearly listening as he worked.

“Yes, that’s why I went in early and stayed late. But I don’t want to complain, I saw Beel and Mammon today as well as a few other regular customers and their families. I got some very generous tips today. I think that I’ll give them to Mammon, he’s always complaining about what he owes in debt, though I have my doubts he’d use this money to settle them and instead he’d most likely buy something that will end up laying on the floor sometime soon.” You added the last bit with a soft laugh.

“Is all of this exhaustion, worth it?” He asked, catching your attention. You sent him a confused frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t mind, it seems as if you’re rather exhausting yourself further than needed for some small rumors.” With a small gasp, you opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it. The air was thick for a moment before a familiar tone broke it.

“Barbatos is right.”

“Young Lord.” Barbatos greeted Diavolo with a smile and a gentle bow.

“Diavolo—“ You spoke, but your fiancé raised a hand to silence you and took the seat across from you.

“You’re beyond exhausted.” Barbatos grabbed another cup and pored Diavolo a cup of steaming tea before he quietly excused himself from the room. “This isn’t the same part-time gig that you told me you were looking for."

“Diavolo, you don’t understand— I’ve invested myself in Hell’s Kitchen. I know the customers, I know the chef’s— I’m one of the only servers left. I can’t leave.”

“I’m not asking you to leave. I’m asking you to take it less seriously.” You frowned lightly and took another sip of your tea.

“I can’t take it less seriously; that’s not how I know how to work. That’s not how I do these things.” Diavolo gave a soft sigh and reached a hand across the table, offering comfort for you that you easily gave into.

“Barbatos is right, my darling. You’re exhausted. You’re working long hours. I permitted this when you were only working a few hours a day to show the people of the Devildom that you weren’t simply using me to get somewhere higher,” you flushed and looked down, unaware that Diavolo had known your plot all along, “However this has gone too far. You’ve more than proven yourself.”

“I should have known that you would see right through me,” you said with a sigh.

“I hear the rumors. I see the way that you slowly started to let it in. You suddenly taking a job at Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t surprising, but I didn’t think that it would go so far.” He stood, keeping ahold of your hand and helping you up out of your chair. “Come now, my love. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let me clean up real quick—“ You started, however Barbatos was quickly behind you gathering the cups.

“You’re going to replace me if you keep cleaning up after yourself,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll handle the cleaning tonight.”

“Thank you, Barbatos,” Diavolo spoke, gently tugging you along to the stairs to head to your shared bedroom. “Come now. Let’s get to bed.” Sighing, you followed the man with no complaint. Things were silent on your way to the bedroom. He opened the door for you, closed it behind himself, and crossed his arms while you sat on the end of the bed. “Be honest with me.” There was no strict guidelines. He knew that there was more on your mind than you were letting on. You had never known that you were so predictable in his eyes.

“I am.”

“There’s things you’re neglecting to tell me. Not hiding, not lying about, but neglecting. I’d like you to be honest with me.”

“Oh Diavolo… why do you have to know me so well.”

“In this moment, I believe that’s your saving grace.” He sent you a gentle smile as he spoke. “My love, what’s going on?” Gently, the man sat beside you on the end of the bed and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. “I just don’t think that you’ve been yourself lately.”

“I have been.” With a sigh, Diavolo stood again.

“One of these days, I’ll get your guard down. For now, come lay with me.” Your fiancé stripped his jacket off, not bothering to put it away like he usually does. Diavolo took his shoes off and pulled the thick comforter back, laying beneath the sheets on the bed and offering an arm for you as you slowly stood up. You gave in, laying on the bed with the man and moving against his side. “How was work today then? You were gone an awfully long time.”

“It was so busy,” you started, though minding your words carefully. You didn’t want to complain; Diavolo had the entirety of the Devildom on his shoulders, you felt wrong complaining about anything to him. Especially since you knew that he would only make you feel listened to and be there for you. It made you feel selfish to think about. “But it was a good day— Beel and Mammon stopped by for a little while near the end of my shift. I had a quick snack with them before they left when it was closing time. A couple regulars came in, some with their family.”

“It sounds like it was quite crowded today.”

“Extremely.”

“Are your feet tired? Would you like me to rub them for you? I can only imagine that it wasn’t very comfortable to be standing and running around all day in your work shoes.”

“I can’t complain too much.”

“You never do.”

“Well— that’s not true. I complain.”

“Very rarely.”

“There’s nothing to complain about.” Diavolo gave a quiet chuckle and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You always say that. You know, even optimists can have rough days that they need to complain about,” you frowned and went to speak, but he quickly cut you off “— maybe complain isn’t the right word. Maybe vent is the appropriate term.”

“I have a good life. I’m happy.”

“Then even happy people can have rough days.”

“I really don’t have anything that deserves to be complained about.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked with a small frown.

“It supposed to mean that you have the entire Devildom looking up to you and Barbatos has the future and the past in his eyes, and he’s constantly working all day long. Lucifer has his brothers that he’s always looking after and Levi and Belphegor are extremely misunderstood and they need help.”

“I see. You feel like your problems are not justifiable. Is that it?”

“No, I just… do we have to keep talking about this?” You frowned., your temper growing short “It’s been a long day and I don’t want to have this conversation.” With another quick kiss to your forehead, Diavolo spoke.

“We can talk about it later.” With a huff, you nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Will you just let it go?”

“Absolutely not.” He spoke the words that you knew you were going to hear, one’s that you already heard in your mind before you even finished your sentence. “Maybe I do have the entire Devildom on my shoulders, but you are my first priority. And if you think that life is stressful for me, you’re incorrect. I love my position. Barbatos knows that when he’s tired, he can take a break. Lucifer loves his brothers. Belphegor is growing closer to his brothers and Levi is warming up to people. Everything is okay with everybody else right now. And if everything with you is not okay, then it won’t be okay until we fix it, and that is okay.”

“I hate that you’re always so encouraging.” A laugh left the man as he rubbed your shoulder.

“No you don’t. You hate that you’re just wrong this time around.” He quickly teased you. “Now, please, promise me that you’ll open up to me soon. It doesn’t have to be tonight, maybe not even tomorrow. Maybe not even a week from now. But you can talk to me. We’re not engaged because we neglect to tell the other what tires us.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” You spoke softly.

“Never.” He spoke in a quiet tone. “Never could you be a burden. Certainly not to me. Now ease your minds of such futile worries and rest your head on me now. Good girl. Get some rest now. I’ll be here for you whenever you’re ready to talk.”

#obey me #obey me x female reader #obey me x female reader fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x female reader #obey me diavolo x female reader fluff #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x reader fluff #obey me imagines #obey me stories #obey me shorts #obey me lord diavolo

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

Note

hihi!! in honor of the upcoming holiday season could i request a skz reaction to you inviting them to meet ur parents? i miss them :((

stray kids when their s/o invites them to meet their parents

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

chan is so nervous but like... why? he's literally the best guy on the planet to introduce your parents to. he is well-behaved, respectable, responsible, admirable and he has extreme amounts of overflowing charisma. mothers love him. fathers respect him. what's not to love? but we know channie, and channie gets himself worked up about these sorts of things. which is only natural; it is a big deal! he just wants to make a great first impression and, of course, he does. you know he has nothing to worry about because your parents would love him regardless.

lee know

minho has a... spikey personality. not everyone gets him. but he knows which bits of himself to show off in order to make a good first impression. like most introverts, they'll show off their best qualities first so that you warm up to them and then once you're invested in them then they'll start showing their weird-ass personality in full swing. that's what minho plans on doing with your parents, just as he did you 🤧🤧 so romantic. honestly though, it works like a charm. minho is naturally charming and respectable no matter how crazy he is on the inside <3333

changbin

oh my gosh when i tell you that all mothers absolutely ADORE changbin. are we even surprised? nope, i didn't think so. he makes a very good first impression no matter who he speaks to, so meeting your parents is like a walk in the park for him. he will totally bring some homemade snacks with him he got felix to make them, but your parents don't need to know that, which seems to impress them. overall, changbin is just amazing. he knows what is appropriate to say and what isn't, and he makes both your parents laugh a lot! he's just so easy to love.

hyunjin

he's nervous for sure but also pretty damn excited. needs a whole-ass month to mentally and emotionally prepare for this experience. hyunjin's very first instinct is to get your parents flowers and chocolates, which is a very good start. when it comes to actually interacting with them, he might be his shy, cute self to begin with, but they can tell he is eager to talk to them. and after a couple of conversational cues, hyunjin will slowly start to loosen up and be comfortable with your parents. it goes really well, and he realises he had nothing to worry about!

han

he just embraces the situation as much as possible. he views it as kind of a big deal but he doesn't let nerves get the better of him, so he wants to enjoy the first time meeting your parents as much as possible. sure, he has butterflies about it, but he doesn't really let that affect him and potentially spoil the moment. he strives to make an enjoyable atmosphere and actively makes your parents laugh as much as possible. it's always good at being humorous with parents, he finds. so copes quite well!

felix

is a nervous wreck. will ask you a tone of questions beforehand. it's like he has to know everything about your parents before he has even met them. "what's your mother's maiden name?" "what does your dad do as a job?" "are there any topics to stay away from? politics? religion? the barbie movie coming out in 2023??" he literally interrogates you like he NEEDS to know everything. he wants to be perfect and know how to act perfect even though he literally IS perfect and doesn't even need to change anything about himself in order to be liked.

seungmin

a tad scared but plays it cool. you know what he's like; he'll pretend that everything is chill and fine even if he's freaking out on the inside. he has nothing to worry about because your parents get to see what a polite, genuine young lad he is and can see he's trustworthy just by his general demeanour and the way he treats you. at the end of the day, who isn't gonna like kim seungmin?? exactly. he leaves your parents' house feeling refreshed and welcomed into the family. a success indeed!

jeongin

oh bless him... he's super intimidated. he stays up all night, restlessly trying to prepare and run through different conversations to have with your parents. he doesn't want to come across as shy or, heaven forbid, anti-social. but when the occasion comes to it, he only speaks when he is spoken to and is very to himself. i feel like after a bit of encouragement from you, he will slowly relax a bit and feel more comfortable to talk more directly and meaningfully with your parents. just give him time and he'll be fine.

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wooahaes · 5 months

Text

something new

pairing: non-idol!woozi x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au.

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: reader has never seen snow before events of this fic. soft jihoonie. some vague mentions towards sex (but no implications of it happening before fic).

daisy's notes: ngl i miss snow :(

Jihoon felt a new chill in the air from the moment he woke up, and it was only partially because you weren’t in bed anymore.

The blanket fell from where it’d been left tucked up underneath his chin (no doubt that was your doing when you climbed out of bed) as he pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes. He’d slept in today, but it was fine: the weekend was always a fine time to sleep in. Last night had been the first time you’d slept over, and he’d already begun to miss you cuddling close to him (although he’d never admit it out loud—you could cuddle with him anytime and he’d be happy). He couldn’t smell breakfast from where he was sitting, which thankfully meant you hadn’t tried to surprise him again. You’d done it before and succeeded, sure, but he always felt a little guilty over it… especially if he woke up and saw Soonyoung sitting with you, gossiping about Jihoon as though he weren’t a room away.

The sound of a soft knock at his door pulled his attention, and before he could speak, Soonyoung had poked his head in.

“Hey,” he called out before Jihoon could greet him. eyes twinkling. “You should come see this.”

Kicking off his blankets and slipping into his house slippers, Jihoon crossed the room and stepped out. Soonyoung guided him slowly toward where Jihoon could finally see you standing at the sliding door that led out to the balcony, attention pinned directly to where the first snow of the year had begun to fall. Soonyoung stole a glance back at him, smiling widely. He didn’t know, but Jihoon did: you’d never actually seen snow before. The two of you had met after all of the snow had melted, and it’d taken forever for the two of you to actually confess your feelings and start dating. And, sure, maybe it felt a little fast for you to sleep over at his place… but this was different. Your apartment’s plumbing had broken, and Jihoon offered to let you sleep over.

(And though he’d also never admit it, it was Soonyoung who talked Jihoon into sharing a bed with you. He didn’t have to do anything he wasn’t ready for, and you’d been understanding… although Jihoon knew you cuddling up to him in your sleep had not been planned in the slightest, no matter how okay with it he was.)

Soonyoung nudged Jihoon forward, sinking back to give the two of you some privacy. When Jihoon glanced back at him, Soonyoung just nodded toward you…. and then immediately shoved him further before ducking back into his room. Before Jihoon could say or do anything, you had looked up, snapped out of whatever trance you were in.

“Good morning,” you said. “Sorry—The window in your room doesn’t have the best view of the city.”

It was the polite way of saying ‘all I can see are the bricks of the building next door,’ but Jihoon didn’t mind. “Did you sleep well?”

With a nod, you turned back to the window. “I did. Did you?”

“Have you really never seen snow before?” Jihoon spoke aloud, already kicking himself. Why would you lie about it? You told him about it forever ago.

Yet he heard you laugh softly. “Is it that obvious?”

Jihoon made his way across the room, slowing to a stop once he was next to you. “Do you want to go out?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Your hand brushed against his, only to take it a moment later. He felt the way your fingers flexed a little before intertwining with his own. “I just want to admire it a little more.”

Was snow really that special? Then again… Jihoon liked the soft look on your face, so endeared to something so natural. His thumb ran across the back of your hand as he savored this moment with you.

After what felt like an eternity of standing with him, just admiring the snowfall, you spoke aloud, “I just think… It’s beautiful, you know?”

Jihoon didn’t take his eyes off you. “I know.”

Stealing a glance at him, you let out a soft laugh. “Someone’s a romantic today,” you said, slipping your hand out of his. “Let’s go get breakfast. My treat.”

If it meant he could see that same tender look in your eyes, Jihoon would follow you anywhere. All you had to do was say the word.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

#wooahaes.dec23 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #woozi reader insert #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #woozi x you #seventeen fluff #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x you

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vibratingskull · 7 months

Text

Fake dating part 3

Part 1, 2

☆Tag list

I took @al-astakbar‘s idea and run with it.

Resume : Alone on an strange planet with a little chiss girl you walk desesperatly trying to reach coordinates given by a beacon. Here you are saved by Grand Admiral Thrawn’s crew and he proposes you an incongruous solution to your problem...

“I accept.”

You said it, the die is cast.

He nods, approving your decision.

“Very well. I knew you would make the right choice.”

You pull a face. He knew it, really? You don’t even know each other for 24h.

He stands up, lowering down his datapad.

“I promised you could see her. Follow me.”

He guides you back to the medbay, where Moarorou slowly wakes up from anesthesia. You dash to her bed and kneel next to her, holding her hand. You notice with relief that her shock collar has been taken off.

“Moarorou! Moarorou…” you call as she weakly opens her eyes. “You awake. Me afraid! You better?” You really need to improve you Sy Bisty you think. You caress her hair, smiling reassuringly, squeezing her hand.

She nods, yawning.

“What happened?” she asks with a voice full of sleep.

Your first instinct is to tell her you’re saved, but are you really? You take a look at Thrawn that stayed behind at the door, leaving you intimacy with the little girl.

“We better! You healed, thanks this man.” You invite him to come closer.

Her eyes round up as she discovers him, her mouth agape she tries to say something. He greets her in their weird language. She tries to raise her upper body, but falls down on the pillow. He stops her with a gesture of the hand and sits on the side of the bed.

“Can you leave us alone? We have to discuss important matters.” The question is rhetorical, you’re out of the room in less than two minutes after arriving.

So that is the extent of his words? Typical!

You sit down on the floor against the wall, fuming, waiting for him to exit the room. It takes him 20 whole minutes, but he finally leaves.

“You are still here.” he notices.

“Can I go back in the room now?” you ask impatiently but full of hope.

“She’s sleeping, let’s not disturb her.”

Wha- Seriously?!

“I explained to her the situation, she understood. We can start our little comedy.” he casually explain

“I. want. to. see. her.” You repeat with the most assured voice you can.

He looks at you in the eyes, you stare right back. You gulp, mustering your courage. ‘hold on his gaze, girl. Don’t back down now’ you pep talk yourself but it is difficult. You swear you could hear the whip of your master crack at this insolent act.

“No.” He orders calmly “She needs to recover. I have a busy schedule for you. Something you can take advantage of.”

Your eyes widen as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Is he serious? He takes his datapad and opens a file before handing it to you. You feel your legs trembling at your defiant act, you take the pad and almost burst out laughing, incredulous.

What is that?!

You discover the schedule of a high schooler, your days are orchestrated to the minutes with lessons and classes.

“I assumed you already knew how to read and write, so you will have intense language lessons, etiquette courses, general knowledge classes and sports sessions. Do not worry I have managed times with Moarorou. It starts today.”

You feel your nose flare at the view of your new life. It’s cramped, full to the brim. He was not joking when he said he would make you a proper lady. You have the unpleasant impression of having escaped a prison for a gold bars cage. What you don’t like either is those “managed times” with Moarorou, you have the right to see her a grand total of 1 hour per day, which is not enough. At all.

Correction.

1 hour for most days, for two days you only have the right to see her for half an hour.

“Understood?” he demands.

You look up to him to see his stern look, devoid of any warmth and human compassion.

You don’t like that guy.

He scares you.

Reminds you of your former masters with his politeness and false caring attitude but never without a whip too far.

“Can I make a suggestion?” you try the diplomatic, trying to ignore your survival instinct and put yourself as his equal.

He tilts his head and listens.

“Could you manage more time for me and Moarorou? I’m the only one she knows here, she’ll be lost without me.”

“It is not true. I can communicate with her more efficiently.” He counters

Is he… is he mocking you for not being able to communicate with her despite your efforts?

You really don’t like this guy.

“But you are right. You are the closest thing to a positive figure for her. Seeing you surely would have a positive effect on her recovery and behavior.” He holds his chin like he’s remembering something. “Regrettably, I designed a busy schedule for her too. I am afraid I cannot access your demand.”

Does he only know no as a response?

“Then…” You look back at your schedule trying to find something. “Could you make our lessons match? If we are supposed to play the role of two high standing ladies we could learn etiquette together.” you propose.

He gauges you silently.

“Her schedule has been planned to be the most efficient for her recovery and her brain to assimilate a proper education. I would rather you do not tamper with it.”

“You speak of her like a machine. She’s a child.”

“Indeed. A chiss child. She will listen to her elder and obey me.”

A chiss? So this is their species.

“I think she obeyed enough until now.”

“As her father I have authority over her, now.”

“As her mother, don’t I have a say in this too?” you spite.

And immediately regrets it.

You’re only gonna earn a beating with that attitude.But you lose control when it comes to Moarorou.

He takes a step towards you and you close your eyes, ready to receive a slap across the face.

But nothing comes.

You reopen your eyes, unsure.

He’s tidying up your collar.

“You make a point. We are her two parents now.” He finishes to flatten the fabric on your shoulders. “What precisely do you suggest?”

You gulp. You evaded the beating for this time. You take a deep breath.

“If we are supposed to play a… loving family,” those words scorch your mouth, you got one and only one family and you lost it years ago “I should be with her as much as possible. Especially if we are to stay on your ship, it is unthinkable that a child so young rummages alone on a ship of that size. Wouldn’t it be more convincing if you planned the schedule of your wife and daughter to match as much as possible? As a loving father I mean.. Sir.”

He slowly nod.

“Your point stands. I will modify the schedules accordingly, but you right to visit her will be limited for now, she must focus on her recovery. That is our priority.”

“So I really can’t go back to her?” you try anyway.

“Like I said, she is sleeping. I had in mind you would learn basic words of cheuhn before you see her again. She should be happy her mother is trying to learn her language.”

“So cheuhn is the language of the Chiss?” you ask.

“It is, even though we use several other trade languages like Sy bisty. But it is a difficult language to master.”

“I will try for her!” you exclaim as enthusiastically as you can after learning you can’t see her.

“Your resolution is noted and appreciated. I must leave you now, I have duties to attend to.”

“Wait!” you call him back suddenly.

He turns towards you with a patient look, but you feel like you shouldn’t have done that.

“Hum… Is it possible to have other clothes than… just dresses?” you stutter.

“They are not to your taste?” he raises an eyebrow.

If only it was this trivial.

“No, it’s for… comfort reasons.” you settle with.

You can’t explain why, not to him. It would give him more power over you and he already has enough.

“Noted.”

And he disappears without a word.

You spent the whole day with a droid making you run test after test to evaluate your global level.

Results?

Not good.

But nothing surprising to you. You were abducted young. You get no time to go to school.

“There is a lot of work ahead of us, Lady Mitth.”

Your eyes twitch at the name. It runs under your skin. When becoming the slave of the Hutt Nattai Gleula you lost your family name and his was forced upon you. Now Thrawn was doing the same and it leaves a bitter after taste in your mouth. Like you just passed from one owner to another.

“Can you please refrain from calling me as such, AP-3G?” you ask.

“But it is your rightful title. As the wife of the Grand Admiral you deserve respect.” it counters.

“You know this is a lie.” you snarl.

You always deserved respect as a human being but it seems you come across a lot of people who like to scorn your basic rights.

“It is a direct order of the Grand Admiral, I must obey my master.”

“Don’t you also have to respect my authority as his wife?” you try.

“You are a civilian.” It suffuses mechanically “I am a military droid. I am afraid your authority over me is quite limited, Lady Mitth.”

“Then at least when we are alone? It really displeases me to identify by his name.”

It seems to think, comparing its orders to your request in his circuits.

“I theorize it is possible if we are only together. What should I call you then, my Lady?”

You give it your name and it seems to record it.

“Very well, Lady (f/n). Prepare yourself for intense days of intellectual stimulation and cultural discoveries. The Grand Admiral asked me to instill you with all the knowledge of a proper Lady of Coruscant, it will be exhausting and mentally draining but so fun, you will see.” It suddenly exclaims with enthusiasm that takes you aback. It seems really pleased to have received a task of that order.

“Can we cut out the Lady part altogether?” you raise your hand like a pupil.

“No. That I canno’t.”

“Definitely?”

“Categorically.”

You lower your shoulders. You’re not a lady. Those types of titles were for the individuals that used you as they pleased, it makes you quite uncomfortable to receive the same rank as them. Even if it’s fake.

You spend the next 4 hours learning the history of the Empire and the Galaxy, at the end of the session your brain is burning with dates, places and names.

“You will need to master at least 4 different languages outside of Basic. A chance you are already well versed in Hutt, even if this is not typically what a Lady would know.” AP-3G comments.

“4 languages?” you let out incredulous.

How are you supposed to speak them fluently in just a few months? Your brain is already so full.

“Isn’t exciting?” AP-3G chants. At least one of you is happy about the situation.

“Can we… can we take a break?”

You exit the room with a headache, you feel like smoke is pouring out of your ears. AP-3G follows you diligently.

“Why are you following me?” you turn to it.

“I have been tasked with your protection, Lady Mitth.”

Oh great.

Now you have a nanny on your back.

Or worse…

A lackey to Thrawn service tasked to report each of your comments and movement to its master.

You who wished to take little advantage of that masquerade to recover some liberty, you can forget it.

“Where are you heading exactly?” It asks

“Moarorou.” you simply respond. Thrawn’s order to let her alone really got stuck in your throat, but it’s been a whole day, surely now you can go see her, right? You prepare yourself to hear the inevitable “No” that will shatter your hopes.

“Oh! Then there is a more direct way.” It informs you.

You turn to it, surprised.

“Please, this way.” he heads on a corridor on your left and you follow, relieved.

You come across some officers and you curl up your shoulders, lowering your head. ‘Don’t cross their gaze, make yourself invisible.’ all your alarms are up.

“Lady Mitth” they salute politely.

You look at them walking away without a word.

“What was that?”

“You thought they would throw you into jail? You are their Grand Admiral’s wife, you are untouchable.”

So they already know? News spread fast on a ISD.

“Here we are.”

It steps to the side and you pass the door after knocking. Moarorou is in bed, transfused and pale, but well awake.

“Hi!” you say joyfully.

She raises her head from her drawing eyes round of surprise and calls you with the same joy.

“How you are?” you say hugging her tightly. You inhale her hair scent with delight, it is so good to see her as awake and aware after this awful week in the forest.

“Sleeped all day.” she respond hugging you back with all her might. “What- Ah!” she says horrified and hide behind you.

You turn your head to AP-3G in a corner of the room and berate yourself. She’s terrified by droids, they’re the one that used to beat her when she did something wrong.

“AP-3G, leave us.” you demand.

“But I must protect you both.” he counters.

You shoot it a black look.

“She’s terrified of droids. Wait by the door, I’m sure nothing can happen to us on the ISD of your master.”

It obeys, albeit reluctantly and disappear behind the door.

You squeeze her and caress her hair, soothing her.

“All well,” you murmure “It went away.”

She digs her nails in the fabric of your dress, whimpering.

“Here, here.”

You remain like that for long minutes until she musters the courage to part with you.

“You draw?” you ask, tilting your head to the sheet.

She hurriedly takes it and holds it against her chest like she doesn’t want you to see.

“I not look.” you say appeasingly.

She seems to hesitate and then relax.

“You want see?” she asks with a little voice.

“Yes, if you want.”

You really need to improve your Sy Bisty, urgently. You could appease her more efficiently and talk to her properly. You squeeze yourself against her on the bed to admire her piece of art. You see three blue people with red eyes, two adults and a little one. They’re all smiling. It doesn’t take to be a genius to understand that she drew her family.

“Papa?” you ask, pointing at one of the adults. She nods “Mama?” you point the other, she nods again with a sigh, “You?” She puts her head on your shoulder, on the verge of tears.

“You missing them.” it isn’t a question. It is obvious she misses them. You missed yours too.

“Me sorry.” you caress her head as tears flow down her cheeks.

What can you say to a 5 year old abducted to her family like that? You notice a second drawing.

This one is… odd?

You recognize Moarorou with other children but she’s unhappy on it, she’s circled by two other adults with stern expressions, one in some sort of uniform and the other like a doctor? It is hard to say with the style of a 5 year old.

“Who?” you ask, frowning.

She wipes her tears and looks at the drawing.

“Adults. Mean.” She simply says, sniffing.

“How mean?”

“Mean. Want me forget…”

“Forget what?”

She doesn’t responds, only raising her head to the door with complete focus.

“He coming.”

“Who com-”

The door opens to let the Grand Admiral enter. With his hands clasped behind his back the room suddenly became so small. By instinct you squeeze Moarorou against you in a protective manner.

“I knew you would be here.” He says.

“Yes. I am allowed, right?” you ask suspiciously.

“Of course. Just make sure to not drain her.” He walks in the room like he's visiting. He then speaks to her in what you suspect to be cheuhn. She sniffs and responds with her little voice but relaxed. She must be comforted to me in the presence of a fellow chiss. They converse for a long minutes until you can’t take it anymore.

“What are you saying?” you ask quite curtly.

And immediately regret it.

They both look at you surprised by your tone. You stutter.

“What are you saying, please?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You must have been beaten quite a lot with this demeanor.” he says with an indecipherable expression.

Is he threatening you to be more obedient?

He continues before you can say anything.

“I was simply asking her how she felt, wondering about her symptoms.”

“Oh…”

“You angry?” she asks in Sy Bisty.

“No, me not angry.” you smile at her reassuringly, caressing her cheek.

“What is it in your hand?” Thrawn asks in a perfect Sy Bisty.

“Drawings!” She responds with a new energy.

“Interesting. Can I see them?” He extends his hand to you.

You look at her, she nods, so you hand him the sheets. But you hold on them abit as he takes them.

He observes them in silence, more than what you usually spend on a child drawing.

“You are talented, Moarorou. Those are very interesting scenes you drawed.” She smiles brightly, happy to have her talent recognized. “Can I keep them?”

Her smile dies immediately, and you frown. Why would he want her doodles?

“Can I, Moarorou?” he insists.

“Yes…” she mumbles, clearly more to obey an adult than a genuine wish for him to have them.

“Thank you.” And he heads towards the door.

“Wait, hold on! You-” you try.

He’s out.

You curse and sprint after him. If he thinks he can just take what he wants like that! He’s an imperial but it should be able to go through his thick head.

“Wait!” you shout.

He stops and turns towards you.

“A problem, my Lady?”

Great, him too.

“Yes, there is a problem. Why are you taking her drawing like that?” You demand out of breath.

“You would be surprised of what I could do with drawings.” he answers mysteriously.

“Could you give them back?” you extend your hand to him.

“No.” He says patiently, “I need them.”

You scoff.

“Why would a Grand Admiral of the Empire need the doodles of a child?”

He considers the sheets in his hand.

“Like I said, you would be surprised. Plus those are not merely the doodles of any child, but my daughter. Maybe I want to expose them in our suite.”

Is this… Is this humor?

“She’s not your daughter, nor mine. She got parents that she drew.”

“Indeed. Which I found tremendously interesting and would like to observe in more detail.”

He’s getting on your nerves.

“Please, at least give back this one. This is all she has left of her family.”

“She has a new family now.”

“Are you kidding?” you spite.

“No. Our notion of a family is vastly different from humans. I explained the situation to her and she accepted it.”

What is he talking about? No 5 years old would get over their lost family like that.

“Permit.me.to.insist.Grand Admiral.” You detach each world clearly, gritting your teeth.

He looks at you with a light grin.

“I see you are getting used to your newfound liberty, my Lady, for talking to me like that.”

You wonder if you crossed the line but he just seems amused.

His smile disappears as quickly as he appeared and his stern expression makes a comeback.

“I will keep those drawings.” He closes the matter “I will find you at our suite.” and he walks away, letting you alone in this cold corridor.

“Is there a problem?” asks AP-3G that just joined you.

You don’t respond.

You’re out of yourself.

You really, really don’t like this man.

Wait…

Our suite ?

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

“Sleeping in the same bed?” you almost choke yourself on those words.

When you got back to your suite you had the bad discovery that all the stuff he lended you were in his private suite now. To consolidate the fraud you have to live in the same suite now. You cross your arms in his cold room.

“Do I need to repeat it?” he asks, taking off his white jacket.

Argh! Why did you accept this stupid plan? You have no wish of sharing your life with an imperial!

“But… Can’t I take the sofa instead?”

“I will not let my wife sleep on a sturdy sofa. You deserve a good mattress.”

Why does he bring it in the bedroom? There is no one to fool here.

“Then… You could take the sofa then?” you try.

“It is still my own room. Do you really intend to relegate me to the friend’s couch?”

Honestly? Yes. Yes you would.

But sharing a bed…

You don’t like that. Brings back bad memories.

You grip your hand, digging your nails in your flesh.

“Let’s go to bed. You will get over it.” He prophetizes, getting under the covers.

You bite your lips, angrily.

You take your place, making sure to not touch him at all and having as much space possible between you both.

He turns off the lights and silence and darkness envelop you.

You’re grumbly. And terrified.

Bad memories coming back full force, of all those strangers who used you.

You muffle a sob in the cover, trembling.

You feel his hand on your arm.

You froze, eyes wide open in the dark.

You knew it.

Your stomach twists in knots as you feel the tips of his fingers grazing your skin.

You gulp.

Then he will slide it in your pants, like all the others, and…

But his fingers go up instead of down, grazing your naked arm and shoulder. And he pulls the cover higher over you.

You hear him turn sideways, then the steady breathing of someone sleeping.

You let out your breath.

Tomorrow you’ll take the couch!

@bdoggy7 @justanothersadperson93 @theeyesofasoldier

@germansarechill @thrawnspetgoose @al-astakbar

#thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

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