#I really like how Melody turned out tbh- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kuroppiii · 5 months ago

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HI HIHIII!! i have a silly request if you dont mind ×_×

there are a few haikyuu boys with longer hair (kenma, bokuto(?) etc.) and i wanted to see some reactions if gn!reader were to put pigtails in their hair heheheh

idk if this is more of headcanons than a drabble but youre the writer so please choose what u think is right T_T

fluff pleaseee >3< thats it!!!! cheers ro!!! laters!!!!

- 🍸 (begging for this emoji pretty pretty please with a huge cherry on top)

hairdresser ᵕ̈ hq boys ( kenma , bokuto , kuroo , sakusa , asahi , yamaguchi , suna ) x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : putting long-haired ⋮⋮ hq boys in pigtails

📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛 ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛 ♡ # ~3.4𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 ♡ # 𝘤𝘸 : 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘶'𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ hello my new 🍸 anon (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ this idea is SO CUTE tysm for suggesting it . sorry it took a bit but i did both hcs and drabbles , just for you xoxo ”

︴kozume kenma ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

he doesn't know why you want to but he lets you anyway

i'd say, in high school at least, he doesn't really put his hair up (obvi since he doesn't do it during matches) because he doesn't know how he feels about how it makes him look in public

but when he's at home he'll def put it up if it's getting in his way of his video games

he actually has hairties strewn about his room, but for some reason they're like all different brands lol

"sometimes i run out and just grab the first one i see getting off the train."

you grab one that's hanging off the corner of his pc

"pfft didn't know you liked kuromi like that"

"oh that... that actually came from a set with a my mel tie..."

so OF COURSE you track down the my melody pair and start to comb through his blonde hair

he plays a game but asks you what his next moves should be in-game now and then to stay engaged with you, as you sit behind him and pigtail his hair

tbh i think his hair would feel dead af from the bleach as you style it but its ok you still love him!!!

"okay, done!" you open up your phone camera and hold it out in front of kenma. he quickly pauses his game and lightly grasps your hand holding the phone as he checks himself out.

"hm... i look ridiculous," he chuckles, "i look like a 5-year-old girl."

"yeah i don't think kuromi and my mel are helping with that, either," you joke. kenma shakes his head around for the two pigtails to swing about his head, the little character charms on the hairties clinking about and making you burst out in laughter. you try to line up your phone to take a picture of him, but he catches you in the act.

he gently swats your arm away and swaps the phone in your hand with his hand in the process, "babe, noo."

"just one? please?" you pry.

he shakes his head and takes your hand up to his lips, kissing it but mumbling out against it a firm...

"no."

"ken."

his eyes are still glued to the screen...

"no."

"with a cherry on top?"

he turns and leaves a quick kiss on your lips, looking into your eyes before whispering...

"no."

despite all his protests, though, rest assured you walked away that night with a new photo in your favorites album: kenma covering his face with his controller with the purple and pink sanrio bunnies holding up two blonde pigtails on the top of his head.

but that was inevitable, he could never resist his baby for too long.

︴bokuto kōtarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

"anything you want babe!!"

anything to spend time with his favorite person

theres too much fucking gel in his hair so you send him to the bathroom to water it down a bit

he comes out with his hair all wet and dripping and over his eyes screaming

"um, kō... did you even dry your- your hair...? baby it's getting all over the floor"

"oh! oh yeah, sorry about that babe, i'll do that right now for you"

but you see a glint in his pretty golden eyes

the fucking brat

he shakes his head like a dog, hitting you with water and you squeal at him to "go use a towel, idiot!"

nonetheless, once you put him in pigtails, he takes a look at the grey and black sprigs coming out from his head in the reflection of his phone screen and can't help but let out a hearty laugh

"this is great y/n, do another one on me, wouldy'a?"

"wait, really?"

"yes! plus, you like this stuff, right? if you're having fun then make me beautiful, beautiful."

he lets you take a few pictures before you hand him your phone to look for other hairstyles, & he takes the phone with a quick kiss to your lips

he scrolls on your phone trying to find a new hairstyle to have you do as you start undoing the ponytails on his head. his hair dried a bit while the pigtails were in, so you run your hand through his hair and ruffle it up a little bit to get rid of the indent the hairties made.

"oh! what about this one," bokuto beams, holding up a pinterest pin of a manbun, "do you think i got enough hair for you to do it?"

you take your phone back to get a better look at it as bokuto tries to gather up as much of his hair in his two hands and hold it up in an... attempt at a manbun.

you look at him and feel laughter bubble up in your chest, but you manage to make out a, "well we can certainly try, kō."

"really? can we?" he smiles at you. you nod and bokuto dives in to kiss you through your giggling. after a moment, you feel the still-damp ends of his hair fall to brush against your forehead, as his hands go from holding his makeshift manbun up to gently holding the face of his one and only love.

︴kuroo tetsurō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

yeah no this loser definitely has a thing when it comes to people touching his hair

like a DEFENSIVE thing bc no one can convince me it's NOT the longest part of his morning routine

so it takes some convincing but he finally caves bc it's you the love of his life

"fine! but just this once!"

once again, gotta water down the gel

but this time he's like,,, weirdly embarrassed?? and shy?? and cute?? about the fact you're seeing him with his hair wet and undone like this

"baby you cannot tell anyone you saw me like this"

"aww but tetsu you look just as handsome like that"

"ok so we're lying now, i see how it is"

so you sit crossed-legged in front of each other on the floor, and you have him hold the comb and hairties

he sits there all pouty as he has to bend down a bit for you to reach his hair bc he's so tall end me

NO PICTURES!!! the bastard even tries to hide your phone

"tetsu! give it back!" you complain. you've crawled into his lap and yet his arm still holds your phone too high up and out of your reach. "i swear i won't post it anywhere–just one picture, please?"

"absolutely not!" he says through a chuckle. he cranes his neck up and uses your phone to look at his own reflection. he groans at the sight of his spikey locks sticking out from the two pigtails on his head.

"babe," he whines, "this is really messing with my self image."

"yeah right, as if the rest of you isn't literally perfect."

"not true! as long as my hair is concerned right now. but y'know what?" he finally brings your phone back down to his side but holds the side of your face with his free hand.

"what," you deadpan, before trying to quickly grab your phone back. but to your dismay, he holds it out behind his back and out of your reach once again as he continues.

"i'd feel a bit better if i could get a kiss. just a little one," he mumbles with that shit-eating grin you can't help but love, "who knows, maybe i'll feel so much better that i can give your phone back."

"and let me take a picture?" you ask hopefully.

he looks into your eyes and starts to caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, "well... that might depend on how good this kiss goes, yeah?"

least to say you got your photo, and then some other perks while you were at it.

︴sakusa kiyoomi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

"omi, i don't think i've ever seen you with your hair up–"

"i put it up when i have to clean."

"oh right!"

you just never noticed because he wears a little bandana on top of it too cutie pie

but when you ask to put his curls in two little pigtails it takes a little bit of convincing

no one's ever really touched his hair before

he's the biggest sucker for you though so eventually he lets you have your way with him

and surprisingly, he feels so loved having his hair played with by your beautiful self and you just look so cute as you do it and you talk to him about the most generic things that this guy starts to get antsy

like i'm talking hands all over your legs and waist as you're sitting in front of him and as he's starting at you with literal heart eyes

he just needs to hold you you're so adorable to him rn

you can really see his two beauty marks with his hair pulled up and you give them a little kiss when you're finished

"look at him komori," you coo, facing sakusa's phone camera toward him with his cousin on the other end of the line. you had called komori to show off your work, but sakusa couldn't care less as he clings to you now that you're finally finished doing his hair.

"wow cous', this is definitely a new look for you," the brunette giggles through the phone. sakusa tries to hide his face in your neck and groans,

"don't you have anything better to do, motoya? bye."

and with that, sakusa takes hold of your hand and hangs up the call on his phone.

"i quite like it, omi! your cousin agrees with me too," you tease. sakusa can't help but chuckle lightly as his arms wrap around your torso tighter. you can feel the smile creep onto his lips against the skin of your collarbone.

"yeah, whatever. we can do this more often, i guess," he sighs, "the you-playing-with-my-hair thing, not the my-cousin-being-involved thing, mind you."

︴azumane asahi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

omg shut up i will always have a soft spot for this man

ofc since his hair is very much on the long side, he already puts his hair up in a simple ponytail or the occasional manbun from time to time

so yes he agrees to the idea when you bring it up, even if it’s a different style than he’s accustomed to

he didn't think it was gonna be that much of a big deal, after all, he's tied his own hair thousands of times

what he didn’t realize, however, is how different the experience is when you’re the one combing your hands through his hair MMMM

he's absolute putty in your hands shut upppp

deliberately pulls out some strands so you have to sit there and play with his hair longer

"love i think you missed a spot."

"i literally saw you pull that piece out."

he’s between your legs on the floor as you sit on the couch, the volleyball highlights he was watching on his phone still running but now long-forgotten. he uncontrollably tilts his head back with every move you make as you run your hands along his hair, parting it and smoothing it down where necessary.

“‘sahi stop moving,” you giggle. all he can do is hum in bliss as you try to get his hair together amidst him leaning into your touch every other second.

"love, is the first one done yet?" he asks innocently, eyes closed, as if his scheming hasn't costed you an extra 20 minutes or so trying to fix his hair up.

"just keep watching your highlights and keep your head still!" you plea with a hairtie between your teeth, finally managing to gather one half of his hair into a ponytail. and just as you were ready to stretch the hairtie out and make the first loop around the bunch of wavy brown hair that you had in your hand, asahi just so happens to readjust how he's sitting beneath you, making some locks fall out from your grasp.

"asahi!" you let go off the hair and draw out a frustrated sigh. you can hear him chuckle as he leans his head against your thigh, turning his head to look up at you.

his hand is already guiding your dejected one back towards his hair, "oops, sorry angel. i guess you'll have to start all over again."

︴yamaguchi tadashi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

how could he ever say no to you

i think esp senior captain!tadashi started on the habit of tying his hair back for games hot, so he actually does have a few hair ties on hand

but if you use hairties you KNOW he keeps some of yours on his own wrist in case you ever need one (🤭), even if not using them on your own hair like right now

he’s very well behaved as he sits on the toilet seat while you stand in front of him between his legs and get to work

the little piece of hair that sticks out from the top of his head is a pain in the ass tho

every time you think you've successfully smoothed it down, it springs back up again

meanwhile to pass the time, his hands rest on your hips as he asks you about your day, about what shows you’ve been watching recently—anything under the sun

"what happened then? tell me more sweetheart."

in the lulls of your conversation you can feel his thumbs lovingly glide back and forth along your hips im dying i love him

you stand behind yamaguchi in the cramped bathroom, him hunched over the sink as he observes himself and the new look you’ve given him.

you watch him through the mirror as he holds back a smile. his hand reaches about to touch the points at which the tips of his olive hear sprig out from the pigtails of your doing, his stomach peeking out from his worn out white tshirt as it lifts a little at the careful movements he makes.

he finally breaks the silence “yeah… i wouldn’t go out like this anytime soon.”

the two of you can’t help but burst out in laughter, at how ridiculous he looks and the ridiculous way you two have just passed the evening. the sound echoes along the tiled walls of the bathroom.

as your laughter dies down, yamaguchi turns and wraps those same arms that were poking at the pigtails in his hair, around your waist.

he pulls you close, “but they look good, love. maybe just not for me."

you look up at him and he swears he can see a universe of stars in your eyes, "you really think so tada? they were kind of rushed..."

"of course!" he leans his forehead to yours and touches his nose to yours, "maybe we can open a hair salon for you to hone your skills."

his comment makes you giggle, and he can't help but lean in closer to give your smiling lips a quick peck.

︴suna rintarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

you knew the only way you could achieve getting pigtails on this guy was by ambushing him

"zzz.."

so as he's dozed off on the bed, you slowly maneuver your way behind him

mf's a heavy sleeper so you eventually realize you actually don't have to be super gentle as you pull his hair into two little ponytails

his hair's already parted down the middle so it's pretty easy

goddamn is his hair silky smooth

you gotta ask for what products he uses bc holy shit why's he been gatekeeping them from you

i feel like his hair is long enough that actually they kind of sag down once you put them up in little curves coming out the top of his head like a bunny!!

but just as you're looping the hairtie one more time around the second pigtail, you accidentally pull on it a bit too hard and it quickly snaps against the top of his head ouch lmao

suna groans as he starts to shift and stir awake at the feeling of his head getting bonked. you have to restrain yourself from laughing as he absent-mindedly reaches back to see who it is that woke him up from his nap, hand slowly patting down your side. even through his sleepy haze, he can tell it's you and he lightly hums in contentment before turning around and engulfing you in his arms.

"sorry, rin, i didn't mean to wake you," you whisper.

for a brief moment as he's cuddling into you, he opens an eye to see your face. though you were trying hard to contain them, your laughter starts to escape between your upturned lips and suna's brows furrow in confusion. what's so funny?

he leans back again to find his phone on the bedside table and you watch as he catches a glimpse of his new hairdo before he can check the time.

all you hear is him mumbling something along the lines of, "you're something else," before he's plopping his phone down onto the sheets and he's tucking his head under your chin.

the two pigtails tickle your face like feathers as your ears begin to pick up on the sound of light snores as suna peacefully dozes off once again.

︴oikawa tōru ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°

i also think he has really silky hair duh but he's definitely shared what products he uses with you

in fact he asks that you use some of the products from his bathroom when you tie his hair

"gotta do these locks justice, baby."

the whole time he's got a little smile on his face, mf is having the time of his life–getting his hair done and being close with the most precious person in the world to him? uhhh YES

he highkey whines about you pulling at his hair tho

"owwiee"

"oh suck it up tōru."

offers to do your hair as well crying

very gentle as he combs through your hair, too!! shit's calming asf, him humming a little tune as you tell him about your day and he lovingly runs his hands through your hair

when he's done doing your hair you take selfies together on his phone

definitely makes one of them his new phone background

pigtails out of yours and oikawa's hair, you're cleaning up the products and hairties scattered across the bedsheets when you accidently brush over the screen of oikawa's phone. the screen lights up with one of the photos you just took with him: you both winking at the camera with pigtails sticking out from the tops of your heads. there's some digital stickers he selected scattered about the photo, as well (a lot of hearts and flowers). he's in another room getting the two of you a snack.

"tōru! can you come over here real quick?"

you hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps as he rushes back to you with chips and drink cans in his hands, "what's up, precious?"

his phone in your hand, you hold it up to him for the screensaver to appear again, "are you serious? did you have to pick this one?"

at that instant he doubles over in laughter, so much so he embraces his arms around your head and falls onto the mattress again, making you both lay down next to each other. he moves his hands to hold your face, "what, why such the long face? you don't like it?"

"no... it's just that everyone who picks up your phone is gonna see it now," you explain, starting to laugh yourself because this boy's laugh is irresistibly contagious.

he leans in to give butterfly kisses to your nose, "yeah, that's kind of the point my love. want everyone to know how happy i am when i'm with you. don't we look so happy in that picture?"

you roll your eyes and reach up to play with his hair again as you two lay there in love, "i guess. but i can't believe you look better in pigtails than i do!"

"i look good a lot of the time," he jokes. his eyes drift down to your lips and after a beat, he presses his lips to yours briefly.

"but not even i can be more beautiful as you are all of the time."

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lionhanie · 5 months ago

Text

myung jaehyun ; voodoo doll

academic rivals to... crush?, childhood friends turned frenemies, jaehyun has feelings and in SEVERE denial

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: i curse like twice lmao, reader is shorter than jaehyun, jaehyun goes thru insane internal conflict because he’s coping w/ his newfound crush on u

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, here u go!

a/n: tbh this is one little self indulgent because i feel like jaehyun + this concept would respectfully Ruin my Life so…. voodoo doll fits the scenario well!

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

your families were close, having moved into the neighborhood around the same time. living next to a family with a son the same age as you essentially meant you would be seeing each other often; whether it was leaving the house at the same time to walk to school or being sent next door to return borrowed tupperware, it was safe to say that you were more than familiar with each other.

it was sweet, really. the picture of you and jaehyun at your kindergarten graduation has been framed in the hallway outside your bedroom for as long as you can remember. jaehyun’s older brother used to treat you guys to ice cream after a test. hell, your families would take weekend trips together over the summer! even when you were young, your mothers always joked that it would be just perfect if the you two started dating, especially when your families trust each other already! and it would be so convenient too, being right next door and all. except, things didn’t work out as they had initially hoped.

you were almost always competing with each other growing up -- who could get a better test score, who could get the most medals in a certain sport, who would get more votes at a class election; you name it. once, you made a bet on who would be taller than the other by the time you finished middle school; it’s a defeat that jaehyun never let you hear the end of when a routine check-up at the doctor told you that you were done growing. it was friendly competition for a while, until you both started taking the rivalry a bit too seriously.

the tension at the dinner table was evident every time your families would join together for your monthly dinners. making sneer remarks towards each other, scoffing at the boasting of one’s achievements, ultimately resulting in a one-up battle that would always be shut down by the parents. it was just petty at this point. you really had no reason to feel so… negatively towards each other all of a sudden.

“everytime you’re near me, suddenly my heart begins to race / every time i leave, i don’t know why my heart begins to break”

until one day, things are different for jaehyun. he catches himself looking at you from across the classroom longer than he normally does, eyes quickly darting away and cheeks slightly flushed when you address his very obvious staring. when it’s time for lunch, he finds himself sitting a little closer to your table of friends, his heart skipping a beat upon hearing your melodious laughter. when he sees you talking to another guy, he grips the notebook in his hand a bit tighter, a pang of jealousy ringing within him-- he dismisses the feeling and goes about the rest of his daily routine.

despite the apparent hostility in your friendship, you’ve never walked home without the other without good reason. making sure he got the both of you home safe was something jaehyun’s father encouraged him to do ever since you guys were in elementary school; it’s practically second nature to him. there’s not as much conversation exchanged nowadays, especially compared to how you two used to talk the entire walk home as kids, oftentimes having trouble stopping your giggles when you part ways to walk into your respective homes.

he’s sitting on a bench outside of the school’s entrance, earbuds in as he waits for you to walk out the glass doors. a cool breeze flies by while he hums along to the song that had just come on shuffle. it’s a little strange that you weren’t out yet. it’s been over fifteen minutes since all club activities were supposed to end, and you never wanted to stay at school longer than you need to be. jaehyun contemplates going back inside to look for you, even going as far as getting up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder-- oh, there you are.

“let’s go?” you finally walk out of the doors, fiddling with your tangled pair of earbuds. he feels a wave of relief wash over him, phew. he was worried there for a second. wait. why was he worried? it’s not like something bad could’ve happened to you; you were probably just talking to one of the teachers or something. he’s acting like you’ve never been a little late before. if anything, he’s probably made you wait even longer than he just did, and /you/ never seemed to think twice about it. what is up with him today?

“give me those,” jaehyun says, referring to the earbuds you were currently struggling to take knots out of. he doesn’t actually wait for you to hand them to him, rather opting to grab them out of your hands, making you roll your eyes. he untangles the stubborn loops with ease, handing them back to you after. “wow, and no thank you? you’re feeling especially cold today, y/n.” he scoffs as he places his hands in his jacket pockets while he walks beside you.

“and it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest and i’m having trouble catching my breath”

“myung jaehyun, thank you so much for helping me just now! what would i do without you?” you respond, very obviously sarcastic. “i’m exhausted, starving, and i’d rather not deal with your attitude again today, okay?” jaehyun watches as you plug your earbuds in and place both of them in your ears; you usually leave the one closest to him out to hear him better with the few sentences of small talk shared on the trip home. if he had puppy ears on his head, you would’ve seen them droop at the way you were completely ignoring him now. he wanted to brag about the grade he got back on his english paper earlier, but it didn’t seem like a good time to do so. maybe you had a bad day.

as you walk on the familiar route home from school, all jaehyun wants to do is crack a joke or make a fool out himself by doing something stupid-- anything that would possibly brighten up your mood a bit; except you’re focused only on whatever you’re listening to and the sidewalk in front of you. his mind is all over the place as he walks in silence beside you; what’s got you so upset? the exams coming up? surely not, you always seem to get higher scores than him with ease. is it the school festival? you’ve been stressing out over planning your club’s performance for a while... why does he want to know so badly? whatever it is, it’s hurting him to see you stray from your usual demeanor.

“i don’t even like you / why’d you want to go and make me feel this way? / i don’t understand what’s happened, i keep saying things i never say”

after dinner, jaehyun’s doing homework at his desk before he pauses to look out the window that faces yours, noticing your lights are off already. it isn’t too late, maybe around 11pm, but it’s definitely way earlier than your typical bed time, especially when finals are right around the corner. “i guess y/n had a rough week.” he rests his chin against his hand, internally debating whether or not to check in on you. it’s not weird to send you a text right? he’s just concerned, after all.

to: my y/n sorry about earlier. are you going to sleep now?

“...are you going to sleep now? myung jaehyun, you sound like a freak, god. let’s just get to the point.” he mocks himself as he deletes his previous message.

to: my y/n i wouldn’t have teased u if i knew u were having a bad day :( need to talk about it?

“should i even bother apologizing?” jaehyun puts his phone down on his desk. why is it so hard for him to send you a text right now? picking it back up, he erases his message again.

to: my y/n u ok? → sent!

“that should be fine, y/n can talk about what’s wrong if they want to. and i didn’t seem too needy… this is good, yeah.” he tries to convince himself that he crafted the perfect message literally 3 letters but okay lmfao, but he regrets making himself sound so nonchalant when, in reality, that is the last word he would use to describe himself right now. maybe he just needs to sleep on it.

“tell me where you’re hiding your voodoo doll ‘cause i can’t control myself / i don’t wanna stay, wanna run away / but i’m trapped under your spell”

jaehyun packs up his laptop and notebooks, arranging them haphazardly in his backpack before moving to wash up for bed. he’s a couple steps out his bedroom door, halfway to the bathroom, when he hears his phone chime three times. you’re still awake. it’s almost embarrassing how fast he finds himself back in his room, eagerly opening his messages.

3 new messages from “my y/n”! lmao yeah, life kicking my ass lately tell u more tmr if u want details :p thanks for caring, jaehyun

thanks for caring, jaehyun. what? of course he would care. honestly, he’s offended; why do you think he wouldn’t care about you? he simply reacts with a thumbs up to your second message-- jaehyun hesitates momentarily, but he ends up reacting with a heart to your last message. he thinks you should get some sleep, you need it.

now, myung jaehyun is having trouble sleeping. which is odd, because he normally knocks out the second he’s under the covers. his heart is practically beating out of his chest thinking back to your texts, even if it was only a couple words. it’s been a while since you two just… talked normally. it’s a sad realization, especially when jaehyun thinks about the years of history you have together. the thought of you laughing at his silly antics and hitting his arm playfully on your walk home, just like how you used to, gives him butterflies. it’s hard to ignore when he’s trying to rest. he’s searching and scanning every possible explanation in his head as to why he started looking at you differently now. he tosses and turns in his bed, even rearranging his pillows numerous times in a sad attempt to push his feelings for you out of his head and finally sleep.

jaehyun could’ve sworn he hated your guts, but he can’t exactly explain why the “hate” started in the first place. could he have liked you this whole time? no, that doesn’t make sense… you know what, it’s probably some freaky magic manifestation stuff… yeah, that’s it. maybe a voodoo doll or something… because surely there’s no logical reason as to why jaehyun could possibly be falling for you after all this time.

a/n: bye i think its so funny to think that jaehyun is just so unwilling to accept his own feelings that he blames it on LITERAL MAGIC looooooool silly boy i love him :,)

#boynextdoor #bonedo #bnd #boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor jaehyun #jaehyun #myung jaehyun #myungjae x reader #jaehyun x reader #bnd x reader #bnd jaehyun #bnd jaehyun x reader #kpop fic #kpop oneshots #boynextdoor oneshot #bnd imagines #ᯓᡣ𐭩 my writing

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thedamselzelda · 2 months ago

Text

Don't Wake Me Up

Featuring: Chūya Nakahara

Author Chat: Part One! I feel so bad bc I have left DBH and LBH high and dry bc CHUYA FUCKING NAKAHARA has taken over my brain for the moment. Do not fret, I will return to darling Dazai, but I wanna get this short little three parter done so Chuya can leave me alone. (TBH I have a Chuya plush on the way, so he's never truly gonna leave me alone.)

Will update with main story page eventually, will also update the navigation of my page eventually... hopefully.

wc: 6.7k, sfw, slightly proofread, mild cursing, a little angsty ngl

hope you guys enjoy! Reblog and like if you enjoyed this! <3 DamzelZelda

Chūya Nakahara doesn’t dream. Or at least, he believed that he couldn’t… There was only one time he was truly able to do so, but even now that seemed like a distant memory.

"Ane-san's back! She's back!"

"Yes, finally!"

Chūya navigated through the dark, winding tunnels of the underground base, guided by the excited voices echoing off the damp stone walls. He rolled his eyes, hearing the unbridled enthusiasm in their tones about your return. The irony wasn't lost on him; you'd be gone just as quickly as you'd arrived, like a fleeting shadow. Not quite a full member of the Sheep, but not an outsider either. Your ambiguous status never sat right with him, though he grudgingly acknowledged that the others trusted you. After all, you were a member before him.

As he approached, the voices hushed to whispers. Chūya's gaze fell upon you, watching as you offered a soft, enigmatic smile to the younger teens. They looked at you with admiration, as if you were some divine being gracing them with your presence. He let out an annoyed sigh, waiting for you to finally acknowledge him.

"Happy to see me, Nakahara?" Your voice carried a hint of amusement, and your attention fluttered up to him. His eyes darted between yours and the younger Sheep among you, feeling a heat arise to his face.

He let out a puff and shifted his weight, crossing his arms as he glared at you with feigned disinterest. "Did you at least come back with something useful?" He ignored your question hoping to provoke some flicker of emotion from you.

Your head cocked to the side, a knowing smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Of course I did. Never disappointed, have I?"

Chūya could only grit his teeth, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance as he turned away. "Let's just hurry up then, that way you can go on about filling their heads with more nonsense."

Your laugh pierced the air, neither harsh nor melodious. To Chūya, it felt mocking, further souring his mood about your return. The sound of your boots clicking on the stone floor followed him as your voice lulled the others away, promising to see them before they succumbed to sleep for the night.

"If you're that envious, I could offer you a taste of what they're so excited about," you teased, your voice grating on Chūya's nerves. He felt your hand on his shoulder, halting his escape through the dim corridor.

Chūya whirled around, feeling the embarrassment rise to his face. "I'm not jealous, alright?" He snapped, hating how defensive he sounded. Despite his irritation, he couldn't bring himself to shake off your touch. Your hand was impossibly soft against his shoulder, its warmth even seeping through his jacket. He tried to ignore the way it made his skin tingle.

He watched your eyes narrow, still maintaining that infuriatingly gentle, calm look you always wore. When you spoke, your words had a teasing lilt that made Chūya's stomach do an uncomfortable flip. "Come on, Chūya. You told me once you think you can't dream. Don't you want to find out if that's really true? I could at least try, you know?"

Chūya's gaze darted between your eyes, searching for any hint of mockery. He didn't hate you, not really, but he'd never admit how much your composed presence affected him. It was unsettling, how you could make him feel so off-balance.

With a dismissive click of his tongue, Chūya shrugged your hand away. "Whatever. We don't have time for this right now, ‘kay? There's actual important stuff to deal with," he muttered, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Ah, yes..." you mused, your tone shifting. Chūya bristled at the hint of disapproval in your voice. "I heard whispers of your little display today. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't actions of that magnitude typically require approval from all council members?"

His eyes narrowed as he watched you glide past him. "You weren't here," he countered. "We took a vote in your absence."

You waved a dismissive hand, your casualness infuriating him further. "I would have voted against it. You’ve put quite a big target on us for attacking a Mori Corp airplane."

Chūya scoffed, trailing behind. His eyes caught glimpses of your neck as your hood slowly slipped off your head, and he quickly averted his gaze, annoyed at himself for noticing. "I was sendin’ a message. We have to show we aren’t to be messed with."

"Now, now, Chūya," you purred, spinning around so suddenly that he nearly collided with you. Your faces were mere inches apart, and he could feel the warmth of your breath as you spoke. "Your time to act would’ve come, but now, we have to act. If you had known the rumors flooding the Port Mafia right now, you’d know the time to move would’ve been any time after yesterday.”

Chūya found himself frozen, caught between the urge to step back and the inexplicable desire to remain close to you. He couldn’t even bring himself to murmur out any questions. The mischievous glint in your eyes left him simultaneously frustrated and intrigued. He hated how easily you could get under his skin, how you always seemed to know more than you let on. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but be drawn to the mystery you presented, even as he tried to deny it.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

Chūya felt his cheeks burn as your eyes bore into him. Why did you have to look at him like that? It was unsettling, the way you seemed to focus solely on him, ignoring the other council members. Even Shirase's attempts to catch your attention with fond glances went unnoticed. It made something twist in his stomach, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

"They'll be distracted for a while," you began, your voice low and confident. Chūya watched, trying to keep his expression neutral as you shifted your weight, placing a hand on your hip. The casual gesture shouldn't have been so... distracting. He forced his gaze back to the map.

"Rumors are circulating about the current boss and his predecessor. Seems the depths of hell couldn't hold him after all." Your finger landed on the map, and Chūya found himself following its movement as it glided between two buildings. He tried to focus on your words, not the graceful motion of your hand. There was something strained about your tone, as if you were taking the rumor personally. "It's the perfect time to strike. Two caches of newly imported booze, guarded by about five men each. They'll be too preoccupied with the rumors to properly defend them."

Chūya groaned, letting his head fall to the side to hide the conflicting emotions on his face. "No way," he muttered, hating how his voice cracked slightly.

"What's wrong, your majesty?" Your mocking tone sent a shiver down his spine that he desperately tried to ignore. "We can handle this without you. Quick in and out."

"It's too dangerous, regardless," Chūya argued, moving around the table. He stopped just before you, close enough to feel the intensity of your presence. It made him feel off-balance for a moment, and he had to fight to keep his voice steady. "You'd send barely armed, non-ability users near Port Mafia territory? Are you tryin’ to get ‘em killed?"

Your eyebrow raised, and Chūya felt his heart skip a beat. He hated how you could affect him like this. "Who said I wasn't going with them?"

Chūya clenched his fists within his pockets, a storm of conflicting emotions churning inside him. On one hand, your recklessness infuriated him. Didn't you understand the risks? The Sheep weren't just pawns to be sacrificed. But on the other hand, a part of him wanted to agree; this would be the best time to strike.

He settled for glaring at you, hoping the anger in his eyes would mask the confusion underneath. "And what if somethin’ goes wrong?" he growled, his voice low to hide its slight tremor. "The Sheep aren't expendable. We can't just throw ‘em into danger on a whim."

Chūya knew he was fighting a losing battle - both against your persuasive arguments and the inexplicable pull he felt towards you. He forced his eyes back to the map, desperately focusing on the proposed mission, on anything but how your presence seemed to fill every corner of the room. The Sheep came first. They had to. No matter how much a part of him wanted to agree with your every word.

"We could leave it to a vote?" Your voice drew his attention back like a magnet. He noticed your hands clasped behind your back, a gesture he'd seen countless times before. It irked him how such a simple thing could look so authoritative coming from you.

Chūya sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked to Shirase, hoping to find an ally. "My vote's obviously a 'no'." He hated how his voice betrayed his frustration.

Shirase, predictable as ever, nodded in agreement with you. The others murmured amongst themselves, and Chūya felt his irritation growing. Always caught between the two of you, never able to make a decision on their own.

He scanned their faces, already sensing his defeat. "Fine," he spat, "but I'm not savin' your asses if you get caught." The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

He always lost when it came to you. You held more sway, more influence over their decisions than he ever could. Some 'King' they'd made him. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, shoulders hunching slightly.

"No."

Your voice cut through his thoughts. Chūya's head snapped up, confusion etched on his face as you turned to address the others. "I'll leave the room, allowing for an anonymous vote. I understand Chūya has some doubts."

You turned back to him, offering a small bow that left him feeling off-balance. "You should at least be able to state your case. I have other matters to attend to now that I've shared the information."

Chūya stared at you, caught off guard by this unexpected move. He couldn't quite read the expression in your eyes, and it left him feeling even more unsettled than before. As you moved to leave, he felt a confusing mix of relief and an unwelcome urge to ask you to stay. He pushed both feelings aside, focusing instead on the opportunity you'd just handed him. Maybe, he could turn this around without you there to sway everyone's opinion and save himself the headache.

In the shadows of a dilapidated warehouse, just above the war room, Chūya found you cradling two of the younger Sheep members. The kids were about thirteen, he guessed. Your hands hovered above the children's heads, emanating a soft blue glow that shifted to lavender as Chūya approached. The sight mesmerized him—your ability manifesting like the northern lights dancing across a night sky.

Chūya whispered your name, his voice barely audible over the creaks and groans of the decrepit shelter. As the glow faded from your hands, you turned to him, your eyes holding a warmth that seemed out of place in their world. With practiced gentleness, you tucked the kids into threadbare futons, pulling frayed sheets over thin shoulders.

He could never quite figure you out. These tender actions contrasted sharply with the impulsive, almost reckless decisions you made during missions. It was as if two people inhabited your body, and Chūya never knew which one he'd encounter.

"I thought your ability was about creating dreams," he said, meeting your gaze. Something in your eyes made him uneasy—an invitation to a hidden world you longed to share. The idea tempted him, but the dark circles under your eyes betrayed the toll it took.

"Dreams are just part of it," you explained softly. "I can manipulate the entire sleep cycle, pushing someone through different stages at will. Dreams are flashy, but the real power is in controlling sleep's restorative aspects."

Chūya nodded, processing this. Your ability, like you, remained a mystery. Standing in the gloom, surrounded by their sleeping makeshift family, he wondered what other secrets you held.

"So, you're giving them... what, super-sleep?" he assumed.

You chuckled. "Something like that. They'll wake feeling more rested than they have in years."

Comfortable silence fell, broken only by soft breathing and distant sounds of city life. Chūya found himself stealing glances, noticing how the dim light caught in your eyes and the slight furrow of concentration between your brows.

Suddenly, you huffed out a small laugh and snaked your arm around his. "Come on. I have one more piece of information to relay."

"Wha—what?" Chūya stammered, feeling a strange heaviness as you tugged his arm. He jerked back, confused. "Where are we going?"

Your face softened in understanding. Leaning in, you cupped your cheek and whispered, "We have to go where the walls can't listen."

Curiosity overrode his hesitation. What information could be so sensitive? He allowed you to link your arm with his again, walking compliantly as you led him through the drafty corridors of the abandoned building. This place, meager as it was, was home to him and the other Sheep. He wondered if you felt the same, given how often you vanished into the shadows, hunting for information.

As you neared the back door leading to roof access, a voice called out your name. Shirase. Chūya noticed the flash of irritation across your face and had to suppress a grin.

You forced Chūya to turn with you, and he suddenly realized how this might look to Shirase—the two of you walking arm-in-arm in the darkness, an oddly intimate picture.

"Shirase." Your voice was strained, patience clearly already wearing thin.

Chūya tensed, sensing the underlying current of tension. Whatever information you wanted to share, it was clear Shirase's interruption was unwelcome. The air grew thick with awkwardness as Shirase approached, giving Chūya an odd glance before focusing entirely on you.

"Hey, so..." Shirase began, his voice cracking slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, a nervous habit Chūya had noticed before. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind... you know..." He raised his hands, wiggling his fingers in a vague gesture that made Chūya cringe inwardly. "Doing your thing... your ability... on me?"

Chūya fought the urge to roll his eyes. Shirase's crush on you was painfully obvious, and his clumsy attempts at flirtation were almost unbearable to watch. The way Shirase stood there, with that goofy grin plastered across his face, made Chūya want to disappear into the shadows.

You answered in a tone that was polite but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "I'm honestly really tired, Shirase. I've got to leave early tomorrow for the next assignment, since we aren’t going for the alcohol. You know how it is."

Chūya watched as Shirase's face fell, the rejection hitting him like a physical blow. It was almost pitiful, the way his shoulders slumped and his eyes dulled.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I totally understand, no big deal," Shirase mumbled, his gaze darting to Chūya. The look in his eyes was a mixture of embarrassment and something darker.

Chūya shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of your arm still linked with his. He wanted to say something, to break the suffocating silence, but words failed him. The whole situation was mortifying, and he found himself wishing he could use his ability to manipulate gravity and just float away from this awkward position, but he remained still.

You cleared your throat, your voice taking on a gentler tone. "Look, Shirase, I appreciate the thought. But my ability isn't something to be used lightly. It takes a lot out of me, and right now, I need to conserve my energy. You understand, right?"

Shirase nodded glumly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Yeah, of course. The mission comes first. Always does."

Chūya felt a twinge of sympathy for Shirase, despite his annoyance at the interruption. They were all so young, thrust into this dangerous world of abilities and shadowy organizations. Moments like these – awkward, painfully human moments – were rare and somehow made everything feel more surreal.

"Maybe another time," you added, though Chūya could tell from your tone that you didn't mean it. "We should all get some rest."

As Shirase mumbled a goodbye and shuffled away, Chūya felt the tension in your arm relax slightly. He glanced at you, noticing the way your eyes followed Shirase's retreating form with a mixture of pity and frustration.

"That was..." Chūya started, not sure how to finish the sentence.

You sighed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Yeah, it was. Come on, we still need to talk."

You guided him towards the door, grasping the ladder outside. As you hoisted yourself up, Chūya followed, trying his best to focus on the rungs rather than... other things. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought. Instead, he noticed the absence of your blue bracelet, finding it odd you didn't wear it even when wandering the halls of their base.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you reached the top. Chūya looked up to see you glancing down at him, a mischievous smile stitched across your face.

"Couldn't you have just used your ability and beat me up here?" you teased.

Chūya laughed, shaking his head. "Where would’ve been the fun in that? Also, I was followin’ your lead. Chivalry isn't dead, you know."

"Oh, how very gallant of you, King Chūya," you replied with an exaggerated curtsy.

He watched as you moved to the edge of the metal roof, sitting down with a dull thud. He followed suit, leaning back on his arms and gazing up at the star-studded sky. Despite the living conditions, at least it always came with a beautiful view...

"I'll probably be gone for a while..." you spoke into the midnight air, snapping his attention back to you.

"Oh? Planning a vacation?" Chūya quipped, raising an eyebrow.

You gave a small laugh. "Wouldn't you want to extend your outing after an awkward encounter like that? I hear Siberia's lovely this time of year."

He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I haven't really been on the receiving end of unwanted attention like that.”

You expelled air dramatically. "Are you kidding me? Yuan practically has heart-eyes whenever you so much as breathe in her direction."

Chūya’s eyebrows shot up. "Nah, I don't really notice her like that. She probably just wants to see my ability in action or something."

"That's the thing though, isn't it?" Your voice softened as you curled your legs inward, resting your chin on your knees.

"It's like..." you continued, your voice soft and contemplative, "to them, we're these larger-than-life figures. Not quite gods, but definitely not just regular humans either. In their eyes, we can do no wrong. We're the kings and queens they make us out to be."

Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with implications. Chūya found himself staring out at the city lights, pondering this new perspective.

"But we're not," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm no king... even though everyone keeps callin’ me one… We're just... us. Right?"

You turned to him, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we are. But sometimes I wonder if anyone else sees that anymore."

A comfortable silence fell between you as you flattened your legs on the metal roof. Chūya noticed you picking at your hands, the skin red and raw. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

You looked up at him, hesitation in your eyes before speaking. "What I wanted to tell you, without anyone else hearing... it's about the old Port Mafia boss."

Chūya felt a jolt of excitement mixed with apprehension. "What about him?"

You grasped Chūya's hand tighter, the touch unfamiliar but oddly comforting. His eyes widened slightly at the gesture, but he didn't pull away. "The rumors..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "they're saying Arahabaki has something to do with his return."

Chūya's breath hitched, a mix of curiosity and unease washing over him. "What? What do you mean?" he pressed, leaning in closer, his red hair catching the moonlight.

You shook your head, frustration evident in your voice. "That's all I could get. I tried to find out more, I really did. I'm sorry." Your shoulders slumped slightly, disappointment clear in your posture.

"Hey, nothing to be sorry about," Chūya said, his tone softening as he tried to catch your eyes. A reassuring smile played on his lips. "I know getting that information must've been tough, considering."

You hummed in response, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Anything to do with the Port Mafia is nothing short of exhausting, especially after being their property…"

Chūya tensed up momentarily, thinking back to your explanation of your escape and arrival at the Sheep. He quickly shook off the dark thoughts, focusing on the present.

"Oh, and there's more." You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to your words. "Supposedly, there's going to be a Port Mafia member lurking around Suribachi, searching for information."

"Dammit," Chūya hissed, his free hand clenching into a fist. Then, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "Of course they're gonna snoop around our territory. But... it could be an opportunity."

Your grip on his jacket sleeve tightened, concern evident in your voice. "Just promise, nothing reckless like today."

A playful smirk crossed Chūya's lips, his earlier tension melting away. "Shouldn't I be telling you that? You're the one constantly putting yourself in the Port Mafia's crosshairs."

You returned his smile, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I have my ways. Men will do a lot for a good dream and rest."

Chūya huffed out a laugh, remembering Shirase's earlier request and your offer. His curiosity piqued, he asked, "Speaking of... if you were to give me a dream, what would it be?"

You glanced back at the cityscape, considering for a moment. "A good life... one where you didn't constantly worry about the Sheep or whoever you were over. Where being 'king' just means being strong and respected, not having all this weight on your shoulders." You turned to him, a soft determination in your eyes. "I'd make that true for you."

Chūya nodded, looking out at the city, the lights twinkling like earthbound stars. "Sounds like a good dream," he said softly, not quite grasping the full depth of your words, but appreciating the sentiment all the same.

He nudged your shoulder playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, who needs dreams when we've got all this?" He gestured dramatically at their surroundings - the rusty metal roof, the distant glow of the city, the vast starry sky above.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Oh yes, living the high life here on our luxury penthouse."

"Exactly!" Chūya grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Five-star accommodations, breathtaking views, excellent company... what more could a guy ask for?"

Your laughter, genuine and unguarded, filled the night air, and Chūya found himself grinning wider, enjoying the sound.

"You know," you said after a while, your voice taking on a more serious tone, "whatever happens with this Port Mafia business, whatever turns up with Arahabaki... we've got this, right? You and me, the Sheep... we'll figure it out."

Chūya felt a warmth spread through his chest as he gazed at you, his friend and confidant, silhouetted against the night sky. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice filled with determination and a hint of excitement for whatever challenges lay ahead. "We've got this."

He watched curiously as you gave a curt smile and began unzipping your outermost jacket. "Here," you said, shrugging it off.

"Hmm?" Chūya's eyebrows quirked up, wondering what you were up to. He observed as you bundled up the jacket and placed it behind him with a gentle pat.

The nudge on his shoulder caught him by surprise. "I'll give you a dream," you explained. "Just a real quick one, twenty minutes tops."

Chūya hesitated for a moment before giving in to your urging. As he laid his head onto your jacket, he couldn't help but notice the lingering warmth you had left behind. It was... nice. Comfortable. "Oh yeah?" he quipped, unable to resist teasing. "That dream you mentioned earlier seems like it'd take longer than twenty minutes."

Your laugh rang out once again in the night air. He watched as you raised your hand above his head, your fingers hovering just above his eyes. "No, I just had another idea. A dream where you'd actually win at an arcade game for once."

"Hey!" Chūya protested, his hand shooting up to grab your wrist. "That was one time." He felt a flicker of embarrassment at the memory, but it was overshadowed by amusement.

Your playful head tilt and the smile that followed made Chūya's cheeks warm unexpectedly. "Oh yeah? Then how come it kept happening?" you challenged.

He scoffed, releasing your wrist in feigned annoyance, but he couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. "Whatever, just try and give me this dream," he grumbled good-naturedly.

The sudden smack on his chest caught him off guard. "If you even act angry it'll affect the dream so stop it," you warned, your tone light but your eyes serious.

Chūya closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as he tried to empty his mind. It was harder than usual, especially with your presence so close, warm and comforting beside him.

"Ability: Exhaustion," he heard you intone softly.

As sleep began to tug at the edges of his consciousness, Chūya found himself both skeptical and hopeful. All he ever saw when sleeping was emptiness, a void of darkness. But if you could actually manipulate a dream for him... well, he hoped he'd remember it. The thought of experiencing a real dream, even if it was just about winning an arcade game, filled him with a childlike excitement he hadn't felt in a long time.

Chūya stood before the full-length mirror in his apartment, his nimble fingers working on the knot of his silk tie. The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. He hadn't realized he had zoned out until a sharp vibration from his suit pocket jolted him back to reality.

A scowl crossed his face as he remembered Mori's insistence on his attendance at this event. A gathering of executives, sub-executives, and other Port Mafia affiliates was enough to make his blood simmer with irritation. Social niceties had never been his strong suit.

With a sigh, he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his phone. Kōyō's name flashed on the screen, and he could practically hear her stern voice already. No doubt she was calling to ensure he hadn't found some convenient excuse to bow out.

"What?" he answered, his tone clipped as he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder, returning his attention to the stubborn tie.

Kōyō's voice came through, tinged with exasperation. "Are you even dressed yet? I feel like I've been waiting down here for over twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes, tops. The unbidden thought flashed through Chūya's mind, accompanied by a fragment of a long-ago memory. He shook his head, nearly dropping the phone in the process.

"I'm nearly done," he grumbled, finally conquering the tie. "Whatcha so in a rush for, huh? Not like this is a business meetin' or anythin'."

He heard Kōyō sigh on the other end, a sound he was all too familiar with. "Have I taught you nothing about punctuality, Chūya?"

Rolling his eyes, he set the phone down on the dresser, speaking louder as he shrugged into his jacket. "It doesn't even start till thirty minutes from now, we're fine!"

A groan emitted from the receiver, followed by Kōyō's voice, quieter now. "You really have learned nothing."

Chūya snatched up his favorite hat, settling it at a rakish angle on his head before picking up the phone again. "You gonna keep lecturin' me or should I just call it quits on this whole thing?"

He could practically see Kōyō's stern expression through the phone. Despite his irritation, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Some things never changed, and Kōyō's motherly concern was one of them.

"Just get down here," she said, a hint of fondness creeping into her tone. "And Chūya? Try not to scowl too much. It's unbecoming."

With a theatrical sigh, Chūya ended the call. He cast one last glance in the mirror, adjusting his hat slightly. The man staring back at him looked every inch the Port Mafia executive, but his eyes held a hint of something else. He shook that feeling off too. He didn’t need anyone questioning him tonight about his thoughts of days long gone.

Even as the sleek black car glided through the neon-lit streets of Yokohama, Chūya couldn't help but drift back to the memories that had surfaced earlier. The plush leather seat beside Kōyō felt a world away from the cold, hard rooftops of his youth.

He remembered that night, waking up with a smile that had become foreign to him since joining the Mafia. Your face had been hovering above him, alight with excitement to share the dream and hear his thoughts. In a rare moment of unbridled joy, he had hugged you tightly. You were warm despite the cool breeze, your heartbeat seemingly synchronized with his own.

Chūya squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the memories away. You had told him to forget, after all. But the images kept coming, vivid and relentless.

He saw you crouching before him, water splashing up and soaking your jacket. You were dressed in all black, an oversized hood casting shadows across your face, leaving only sadness visible in your eyes.

"Heard some rumors about you, Chūya," your voice echoed in his mind, "about the Sheep."

He remembered the pain, the stab wound in his stomach pulsating with each labored breath.

"The Sheep... they're gonna be split up. That way something like this doesn't happen again."

Even now, years later, he could feel the grimace on his face as he had looked up at you. "What about you?"

Your soft smile, the gentle touch as you brushed stray hairs from his face - it all felt so real. The handkerchief you had produced from your jacket, wiping away the sweat from his brow.

"I'm not a member of the Sheep, Chūya. Not really, remember?" Your words had stung more than the wound. "So... it's best you forget about me."

He had wanted to reach out, to grasp onto you, but his body wouldn't cooperate.

"But, that dream, what I made for you nights ago... I think you're gonna get that now. The Port Mafia will take care of you, Chūya."

Even now, he wanted to object, to call out the lies. It couldn't have been real, just a nightmare born from blood loss and pain.

"You'll be a king. Just... don't let people get into that head of yours."

The memory of your touch on his cheek, the soft press of your lips against his forehead - it all felt too vivid, too real to be just a recollection.

"Even throughout our endless bickering and fighting because our passions differed," your whispered words ghosted across his skin, "And of all the dreams I've had, you were always in my favorite ones."

Chūya's eyes snapped open, the present rushing back in a flood of sensory input. The purr of the car engine, the faint scent of Kōyō's perfume, the glittering lights of Yokohama streaming past the tinted windows. He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing the memories back into the recesses of his mind.

He was Chūya Nakahara, executive of the Port Mafia now. A ‘king’, just as you had predicted. But as he straightened his tie and adjusted his hat, he couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the dream you had envisioned for him all those years ago.

"What's got you all silent for once?" Kōyō's melodic voice cut through Chūya's reverie, accompanied by a gentle nudge from her ornate fan.

Chūya scoffed, crossing his arms defensively as he shifted in his seat. The leather creaked softly beneath him. "Can't I be silent in peace? Already don't wanna go to this event," he grumbled, his reflection in the window scowling back at him.

Kōyō's laughter filled the car, light and airy. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she opened her fan, the intricate design catching the passing streetlights. "Surely it won't be that bad," she mused, fanning herself gently. "Just come and make an appearance, and maybe Mori will allow you to leave early."

Chūya rolled his eyes, the action exaggerated by the tilt of his hat. "What's the point of this event if even Mori's going to mope the entire time?" he retorted, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "He's still not over that bastard up and leavin'."

A playful lilt colored Kōyō's response, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sounds like you aren't either."

Chūya's eyes widened, his body recoiling as if he'd been struck. The mere suggestion sent a jolt of indignation through him. "Hey! I'm glad that suicidal bastard ain't here anymore!" he snapped, his voice rising sharply in the confined space of the car.

Kōyō's laughter only grew at his reaction, the sound both infuriating and oddly comforting. Chūya gritted his teeth, choosing to let it go rather than dig himself deeper. With a low growl, he turned back to the window, watching as familiar buildings rushed past in a blur of neon and shadow.

Not much longer now, he thought to himself. Then he could make his appearance, play his part, and leave all the sooner.

As the car jerked to a halt, Chūya’s hand was already on the door handle. He pushed himself out, the cool night air a welcome change from the stuffy interior. Turning back, he offered his hand to Kōyō, feeling the delicate pressure of her fingers as she gracefully exited the vehicle.

Closing the door behind her, Chūya took a moment to survey his surroundings. The buzz of anticipation in the air was almost palpable, mixing with the subtle scents of expensive colognes and the night-blooming flowers adorning the entrance. A steady stream of Port Mafia members and affiliates moved towards the building, their finery a stark contrast to the shadows at the edges of the property.

Chūya’s eyes were drawn upward, tracing the lines of the imposing structure before him. The 'Mori Corporation' sign gleamed overhead, its golden letters a beacon in the night. He couldn't help but smirk at the audacity of it all.

Following Kōyō's lead, Chūya stepped into the building. The familiar opulence of the interior hit him anew – soaring ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and the low hum of power that seemed to emanate from every surface. Even after five years, a part of him still marveled at the sheer grandeur the Port Mafia commanded.

His gaze swept the room, cataloging faces both familiar and unknown. Leaning closer to Kōyō, he muttered, "So, who's even here from the affiliates? We don't really deal with them, that's Mori's business."

"Well," Kōyō began as they approached the bar, "I believe the Nagano group Shirubā Sanzu's leader is here. I can never remember his name." She waved dismissively, clearly unbothered by the lapse in memory.

Chūya grabbed two champagne flutes, handing one to Kōyō as she continued. "The Tokyo sister group Onikai is here too. I remember when that girl used to be just an assassin and whisperer. She was so good, I surely thought she'd make executive, but no! She took the job of taking over that syndicate group. She hardly ever shows up to these though."

As Kōyō reminisced, Chūya’s attention drifted. His eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Mori. Good, now he could make his presence known and start planning his escape from this tedious affair.

As he began to move towards Mori, Kōyō following, something made him pause. There was a smaller figure beside the Port Mafia boss, and for a moment, Chūya felt as if the ground had shifted beneath his feet. It couldn't be... could it?

"Then the Mito group—" Kōyō continued, but Chūya cut her off abruptly.

"Wait," he said, his voice tight with sudden tension. "Go back. The other group – what's the leader's name?"

Kōyō's response sent a jolt through him. The name she spoke – it was so close to yours, yet more formal, a longer version of your name. As if she were talking about a person he once knew intimately, now turned stranger.

"I actually think that might be her over there," Kōyō added, but Chūya barely heard her.

His heart pounded against his ribs as he strained to get a better look at the woman speaking with Mori. A whirlwind of emotions surged through him – disbelief warring with hope, uncertainty tinged with a sharp edge of something he couldn't quite name. Could it really be you? After all this time?

Chūya's world narrowed to a single point of focus. He had to know. He had to see your face and confirm whether the past he'd thought long buried was about to come crashing back into his present. Without a word, he passed his champagne flute to Kōyō, barely registering her questioning look in his peripheral vision.

His feet began to move of their own accord, carrying him forward. He didn't care if he was about to make a fool of himself. He had to know he wasn't dreaming.

As he drew nearer, Mori's smooth voice drifted into earshot. "I just wish you would return, my dear. I could instate someone else for you to come back. It's just too nice to finally see you in person again. Ah, it makes me remember your youth."

Your voice – so familiar, yet changed – came clearly in response, laughing off the proposal. "And let my hard work go to waste? Come now, Mori, you know better than I that this has been the best venture for me, for us."

Chūya's gaze locked onto you. Your eyes squinted as you smiled, a practiced look you had no doubt given thousands of times. Mori merely chuckled at your rejection, one you had probably offered several times before.

He noticed your hands clasped behind your back, fingers mindlessly picking and rubbing your nails together – a habit he remembered all too well.

Chūya's lips parted, but no sound came out. He tried to steady his breathing, silently cursing his quickening pulse. He swallowed hard and tried again, hearing your name leave his lips in a shaky whisper.

Mori turned first, then you. Chūya couldn't read the expression on your face, only noticing your eyes dart between his as your lips parted in surprise.

If it weren't for Mori's knowing chuckle, Chūya might have remained frozen in disbelief.

"I'll let you handle this one, dear," Mori said, his tone laced with amusement. "Seems it's time for you to clean up your mess." He patted you on the shoulder before giving a small bow to Chūya and departing.

Chūya watched as your eyes drifted downward, your gaze seeming to bore holes into the polished marble floor. He caught the sharp exhale that escaped your pursed lips, the sound barely audible above the ambient chatter of the gathering. Your shoulders tensed, a minute movement that he might have missed if he hadn't been so intently focused on every detail of your presence.

You gave a harsh swallow, your throat bobbing visibly with the effort. Chūya's eyes traced the familiar line of your neck, memories flooding back unbidden. Slowly, achingly slowly, you raised your head to meet his gaze.

The look in your eyes struck him like a physical blow. It was a complex mixture of emotions – regret, apprehension, and something that looked unsettlingly like pity. Your brows were slightly furrowed, creating a small crease between them that Chūya had the absurd urge to smooth away with his thumb.

"Chūya," you began, your voice soft and hesitant, a stark contrast to the confident tones you'd used with Mori moments ago. "I can explain."

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuya nakahara #bsd chuya #chuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya

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hrast-ika · 1 year ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/hrast-ika/733720014045200384/sorry-for-the-spam-i-got-lost-in-your-blog-like-a

can you please link any of your marked for later that your excited to read?

ok let me scroll down that thing (i forgot most of them so i have to refresh my memory)

oh the author who's two fics i recommended in previous ask posted a new one!! so that's one for sure - Same as it ever was *has immediate tmnt03 SAINW flashbacks bc of the name* and another time loop one- One more time with feeling The Roronoa fruit (turns out i had this one in here for YEARS) Retrograde (what can i say, i am a sucker for amnesia fics) Shard island (this is a VERY long one and it's post Wano (an arc i have yet to read) but it seems interesting) Family man (what i can gather from the description and tags it's about the suffering of Mihawk, who has to deal with zoro and perona - In which Mihawk and Perona help Zoro deal with his Feelings on Kuraigana.) come on, come on (turn a little faster) (The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.) so tell me when (you are gonna let me in) (Or, five nights they talked, and the one night they confessed.) Getting to know you (i have been on many missions to find fics that include Zeff as well, and this is one of them aka 'meeting the parent' trope) Who's gonna love me now? (Zoro thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “You confuse me.”) To argue and to cherish (On a small island, on a lovely night full of music and fun and food, Zoro and Sanji accidentally get married) The melody of missing you (The journey to Wano leaves Zoro with far too much time to think about how he really feels about Sanji's departure.) The annoying thing about happy endings (another one with Zeff in it) you know i want you (so what's the hold up) (Or, five times they almost kiss and the one time they do.) Clearly i have your back (sanji gets injured protecting zoro's back) go back to sleep (i think i read this one already but i can't remember for sure so i wanna read it again) Curbside (modern au, roadtrip au, going merry is Usopps's van, held together by duct tape) Part timer (another long one and Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways.) Recite your vows (Or, a story of two oblivious idiots who had no idea that they had been married all along.) Double or nothing (It starts, as so many things do with them, with a stupid bet.)

this took a whole hour to put together... the list is just so so very long. and tbh i am always on a look out for new ones so if any of you have any good ones (sfw, can also be gen, pre-slash) to recommend i would love to hear that

#zosan #fic rec #marked for later #ask #one piece

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vibratingskull · 5 months ago

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Hiiii I love your fics so much that I'm genuinely suffering from Yandere Thrawn Brainrot 😭 can I pretty please request Yandere Thrawn x fem reader where the reader is just accepting of his behaviour? like maybe she's a rebel who has been just abandoned by her friends so she just gives in because actually the attention he gives is really nice when she behaves or maybe she's one of the emperors daughters who is always kind of forgotten about in comparison to her sisters so Thrawns attitude isn't a red flag for her because he treats her so nice and has never once sidelined her or forgotten anything about her! I just think it's an interesting idea to play with like I'm sure Yandere Thrawn would be ecstatic to have a partner who doesn't bat an eye to his behaviour and soaks it up desperately, even the brothel fic you made could fit with Yandere Thrawn (look at how bad the brainrot is LMAOOOOO) ofc I'd have to request some smut in it like maybe he eats her out on his command chair 🤭 (that's all I can think about since the last Yandere thrawn AU you just posted haha make it as crazy as you want it to be tbh I love giving you full reign over this your smut is like high quality wine for me at this point!) Anyways! Before I get completely off track and send you a whole essay of ideas I just wanna say that I cheered when I saw your requests open and you don't have to write this idea or if you prefer to tweak it then that's absolutely fine! I hope you're doing amazing and I'm looking forward to your beautiful creations!!!

Yandere Thrawn is best boy, you cannot change my mind! He can be a murderous psycho or a complete puppy if you play your cards well. Aaaaaaaw thank you dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I'm really happy you like my silly stuffs, even the smutty ones (i'm so not confident about those), it will be a 2 parters !

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, painting, meet cute

You sigh, sitting alone at the table. You make your drinks twirl in your glass, silently observing the ballroom. Your hand supporting your chin you look at the couples dancing, the lively discussions around the room, the laughs and smiles, the kisses exchanged behind closed doors, and the champagne flowing freely.

You catch one of your sisters dancing with a suitor, a metal and gaz magnate infinitely rich, they have been glued to one another during the entire party. You turn your head to see another one leading a political discussion with her natural charm, they all laugh at her witty comebacks and believe every word she speaks like gospel. You turn again to see your third sister on the stage, singing softly a beautiful melody, admired by the rest of the audience.

And then there is you...

The fourth.

The last one.

You do not have the charisma, the talent, or the political gene to rival any of your sisters. No one knows what to do with you. Everyone planned a beautiful future for all your three sisters to make the Empire shine brighter but you? Nobody has any idea. All your professors searched for a secret talent, a hidden jewel, hoping you are simply a late bloomer.

But nothing came.

Oh, you tried. You tried so hard! Spending sleepless nights working on your studies to at least hope for a well-made brain. But you are so average, both in looks and intellect. Nothing shines about you, nothing is worth noting.

You sigh and finish your drink.

Your only little quirk is your paintings. That’s the only thing distinguishing you from your sisters, you not failing art class. It is quite fondly regarded when you’re five but when you’re an adult princess of the Empire you need other qualities and skills than a good brush move.

You just wanted to go to art school and live simply, not that overdramatic life wrapped in politics and secrecy. You wish not for the power and the riches, they bring you too much headaches. You want to leave the Palace, find a small apartment, get a cat, and for everyone to forget your existence and leave you in peace.

But no... Not a chance.

This very party is a shining example. It is officially a diplomatic meeting between high political top hats but the true goal of your father is to show off his daughters in the hope you find a future husband, wealthy and powerful, and then marry you off.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

You are a prop to your father’s politics. Good to lure a man and his funds into the imperial bank.

And right now you are failing spectacularly. Now that you mind per se, but the man you call father and emperor will inevitably learn about that and you don’t want to anger him. You still value your life.

You sigh again mentally preparing yourself to stand up and try to “seduce” men, feeling a headache rising, when-

“Will you allow me to join you?” A rich deep voice makes you turn your head.

Grand Admiral Thrawn, a hand on the back of the other chair of your table, is looking at you with a small grin and sparkling eyes.

“Oh...” You can only say, surprised for him to spawn out of nowhere, “I mean yes! Of course Grand Admiral.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bows his head.

He elegantly sits down next to you. Even his manners are impeccable, full of grace and dexterity. You feel so slow and clumsy next to him. You see his long, delicate fingers hovering over the canapes before choosing one and lifting it to his mouth to bite into it.

Maker, even Military officers are more dignified than you... You subconsciously straighten your back to at least match the energy he brings to the table, trying not to appear too sluggish.

You know this man for being the first and only alien to have reached the Grand Admiral rank, which is really impressive, you will give him that. He always struck you as a balanced and polite man. He revealed himself as an art enjoyer on your first meeting and very nicely proposed himself as a model for male anatomy. You accepted and you meet every other month when he comes back from his campaigns. He lets you draw and paint his body in silence for long hours before coming to take a look and give you advice from time to time.

And then he leaves. And that’s the end of that.

Or it is the end of your relationship because he seems to roam around the residency aisle of the palace a lot. Numerous times you caught the back of his head disappearing behind a corner when you left your studio after a long painting session. You have no idea what he comes here for in the residency wing of the Palace, nothing interesting for a Grand Admiral around here.

As a matter of fact, you do have an idea why he comes to this part of the Palace, you suspect he comes to visit one of your sisters regularly. And he must be seriously enamored for risking the wrath of the Emperor! You don’t even want to imagine his reaction if he discovered the Alien got access to one of his dear eldest!

You just hope the sister in question takes her precautions to not get caught.

That would also be a huge waste for the Grand Admiral, if an alien such as him managed to reach this rank it means he must be terribly good at what he does! Not that the Emperor shares any tactical info with you, his daughters, it is a simple observation. And he looks rather dashing too... Your vain side would be devastated to learn such a handsome man would be executed, that would be such a loss for the Galaxy you nod to yourself.

You remain silent, observing the guests and your sisters shining in their dresses and jewelry. They are so radiant, you think with envy. Typically the type of women a man as handsome as the Grand Admiral would pursue, they are in the same league.

Contrary to you.

You start feeling a tingle at the back of your neck and you turn your head to discover Grand Admiral Thrawn silently looking in your direction smiling softly. You spin your head again to see what he might be watching with such tenderness in his red gaze, only to see...

Nothing?

You frown.

“It is you I am looking at.” Thrawn’s deep voice rises again, with a touch of controlled amusement.

You turn back to him with an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, I just thought you saw... Nothing.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“What did you think I saw?”

“I don’t know, something interesting.” You take your glass to your lips to sip, feeling your throat going dry.

“But I am looking at something interesting. The most interesting person in this room.”

Oh okay.

You know where this is going, you know that sweet sugary tone.

“What do you want Grand Admiral?” You put your glass back with a clank, “What demand do you want me to ask my father?”

He cocks his head again, squinting like he didn’t understand your question.

“I have no demand to ask your father.”

“Of course you don’t.” You snort.

They always do that. Come with a sweet voice and a compliment and then beg you to interfere with your father in their favor.

You are no political genius but you recognize a freeloader when you meet one!

“You always come to me! You think I am the weakest and easiest to manipulate for your benefit, you come with doe eyes and then ask outrageous demands, in the hope of gaining political powers. Well, I am sorry, go knock on another door!" You speak irritated but low to not start any drama.

Vice Admiral Thrawn blinks at you. He shakes his head, trying to disarm the situation.

"I assure you, Your Majesty, I did not come to ask any political favors of any kind.” He reiterates softly, “I simply saw you, so beautifully dressed and dolled up and could not help but come to you.”

You sniff with disdain. Lies. If he doesn’t want political favors from your father then he wants access again to one of your sister's beds, another classic you had to deal with!

“I am sorry Grand Admiral.” You say coldly, “I have nothing to give you.”

His smile widens and you hear a low chuckle.

“But on the contrary, it is me who wants to give you something, Your Majesty.”

You look at him suspiciously as he takes something from his pocket. He puts a little box hermetically sealed in front of you. You tentatively take it and open the lid to discover a colorful powder in a tangerine shade.

You look at him mouth agape and mute with surprise.

“I heard you needed this shade to finish your latest painting.” He says softly, “I traveled the galaxy and found this powder made from local seashells in an isolated world. I saw it and knew I needed to get it for you.”

This shade...

Is the exact one you need, down to a t.

“How... How did you...?”

“That is not important, Your Majesty I know how much you care about this painting and wanted to help you.”

This painting, you saw it in your dreams.

It was a flash of a faded memory of your dead mother, smiling at you before the sunset. Long, long ago...

This powder is the perfect shade for her eyes...

“Oh dear Maker...” You start sobbing, hiding your mouth behind your hand.

“Your Majesty?” Grand Admiral Thrawn asks, “Are you all right?”

You nod, wiping any tear that might have rolled down your cheek, getting back control over your sobs.

“Yes... Yes. Thank you Grand Admiral, this is a very thoughtful gift.” You smile at him.

Now you feel dumb to have given him the cold shoulder.

But how did he know about that painting? You don’t remember talking about it to anyone? You specifically hid it behind a sheet.

“You are welcome, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure.”

His hand furtively reaches yours and caresses your finger with the tips of his own. You let him do it. You don’t know why. It is simply not unpleasant...

“I just thought... I’m going to sound stupid, bear with me, I thought you wanted to use me to get close to my sisters.” You chuckle embarrassed, “It is a bit stupid...”

“Why would I want to get close to your sisters when you are here?” He asks.

“Because... I am just me.” You shrug like it is evident, “Nobody knows what to do with me.”

“I have plenty of ideas of what we could do together.” He whispers, taking your hand gently to kiss it, his red eyes looking brazenly at you.

You feel heat spreading on your cheeks.

“Vice Admiral!” You choke “How dare... We are in the middle of a ballroom!” You chastise him.

“We can leave anytime you desire...” He licks your knuckles with the tip of his warm tongue, looking insolently at you.

You feel yourself melting into a puddle at that gaze on you. So many unchaste images cross his read shining eyes while devoring you. You feel stripped naked before him. You gulp and turn your head away, you cannot hold his gaze, you feel like you’re about to combust.

He chuckles and kisses your hand again.

“I am merely joking, Your Majesty. I know you cannot simply fool around with any man. But maybe you will allow me this dance?” He stands up, still holding your hand but awaits your response.

You gingerly look at him. Dear Maker, he is so tall...

He looks at you with a small smile, gently squeezing your hand.

“I... Can allow one dance.” You concede.

“You are so generous with me, Your Majesty. I thank you.”

He helps you stand and guides you to the dancefloor, his warm hand on your lower back. He spins toward you and grabs your hand, pressing your two bodies together.

“Hold on to me, Your Majesty.” He says sensually.

And he makes you spin and twirl on the dancefloor, holding you so close you can feel his high body warmth through your clothes. He is a very, very good dancer you realize.

The dance starts normal and modest as it should be but it slowly dissolves into... something else.

You can feel his large hands roaming your entire body, playing with the straps of your dress, raising the hem of your dress to touch your naked thigh, he grabs the pin and frees your hair in your back, he grabs your hips to press them against his in a sultry move, almost grabbing your butt...

It feels like he is making love to you, fully clothed and in public. You fail to put a stop to it and protect your modesty, he is just so good at it that you blindly follow him, losing track of time.

You gulp, losing your breath as he makes your head spin dangerously. He never once stops looking at you, devouring you with his shiny rubies, hunger lying deep in them.

You are breathless, straps down your shoulders, your skirt high on your thighs and your legs trembling terribly, threatening to give out under you if Grand Admiral Thrawn wasn't holding you firmly against his tall body.

“Gra.. Grand Admiral...” You can only say.

“Is there a problem, Your Majesty? We are simply dancing, like I promised we would only do.”

“This is not a dance! This is...” You try to get angry at him but your beating heart only pumps blood to your cheeks even more.

“You did not stop me once.” He tilts his head, “If you said no I would have stopped immediately.”

“Someone could see us! Someone-”

“There are a lot of people around us. They hide you perfectly, no one will ever know. You can let go entirely, let me guide you...” He whispers sultrily in your ear.

His hand on your back slowly caresses his way down towards your butt and his hand on your leg slowly brushes his way up towards your crotch.

This... This is so indecent!

So scandalous!

So obscene!

So...

You should slap him across the face and ditch him there but you want more of it. You feel fire starts in your loin, slowly spreading in your veins, coursing through your entire body.

Quite unexpectedly he lets you go. You look at him without understanding, he grins and kisses your hand gallantly again.

“Have a nice evening, Your Majesty. Thank you for this... Delicious moment. I will see you for our next modeling session.” He rolls his ‘R’ like a purr and leaves.

Did he...

Is he the one who ditched you? At the height of the tension? When you were about to say ‘yes’ to him? You remain standing still in the middle of the dancefloor, mouth agape, breathless, hair and dress in a mess. You walk back to your seat, your legs wobbly at every step.

You feel played.

How dares he come around to set you on fire and just leave you, arms dangling, craving for so much more?! Such a ... Tease! You readjust your dress modestly, making sure none of your sisters saw anything of this... Outrageous display. None of them are looking in your direction, they are fully focused on their friends or songs.

You sigh, feeling like an idiot. Typically a thing that wouldn’t have happened to your sisters, they would have either put a stop to it or enchanted him so much that he would have dropped to his knees, begging for more of them.

You're the only one dunce enough to get played like that.

But... You cannot help but like it. It felt good to be someone’s center of the universe, even for two fleeting minutes, feeling his daring hands exploring your body so... immodestly. No man ever treated you like that, even less a man so handsome...

You shake your head. Stop that! It is blind lust speaking.

Your eyes lay down on the little box. You reopen it, to be sure of its content. Exactly the pigment you needed, the exact shade and vibrance...

How did he know?

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

The first time he saw you was during an Imperial ceremony, from far away. The youngest of all the daughters, dressed in gold, pearls, and Orichalc. He was still a simple commodore back then, without as much power to himself. He was from very far away, not able to discern the features of your face, but it was clear from your body language and posture you didn’t want to be here.

Like himself.

Pryce was unavailable, a rarity for a shark like her to miss a political event like that, but she pressed him to go, to form alliances with as many senators as possible. How on the Warrior’s Blue Csilla was he supposed to do that? He is surrounded by sharks and snakes ready to eat each other for their selfish benefits, something so beyond him he simply forgets this is actually a thing people do instead of worrying for the good of the many...

Saying he was terrified would be false, but saying he was comfortable would be a lie.

It takes a lot to make him uncomfortable, but politicians always do the trick.

So in a weird way, he felt kinship towards you. He knew nothing about you, he was not even sure of your rank at that very moment, but like him, you wished you weren't there at that moment.

The massive difference was that he was anonymously sitting in the grandstand while you were on the big stage, to be looked at and admired like a pretty doll by everyone else. How uncomfortable it must feel... He felt sorry for you.

Despite your discomfort, you accomplished your duties with grace, obeying your role. It was commendable of you.

“Who are those young ladies on the side of the stage?” He leaned towards his sit neighbor.

“Do you live under a rock? They are the Emperor’s daughters, the Imperial princesses.” He got chastised.

He nodded thankfully and returned to his silent observation of the ceremony.

It was not so long in retrospect, but isolated on this stage it must have felt like an eternity for you.

After the ceremony was the real challenge for him, for two hours he had to remain comfortably seated in silence to observe a stage, now he was truly meant to go out of his way and meet politicians.

He had to take refuge to the buffet or the corners of the room more than one time. Why can’t he read and anticipate politicians’ maneuvers? Why was he so blind to this type of warfare? After a new uncomfortable discussion that ended up with him pissing off his interlocutor because they couldn’t meet eyes to eye he caught a cozy area, almost hidden behind heavy curtains with sofas and a fountain, isolated from the rest of the busy party. He entered, hoping to find some peace and quiet but he found a young woman here, dressed in gold, pearl, and Orichalc.

“Your Majesty.”Thrawn bowed respectfully, “I did not want to disturb your peace, I will leave.” He immediately excused himself and turned to go away

When...

“You may stay, sir.” You simply responded, not even looking up from your drink twirling in your glass. “I do not mind...”

“I thank you, Your Majesty.” He bowed again and took a seat.

Not on the same sofa as you, it would be terribly improper to impose his presence on a woman like that. He chose one a little removed from you to leave you in peace.

He was gathering his thoughts, but you kept catching his eyes, something about you was...interesting him. And he didn’t know what, nor the true nature of his interest in you.

“What?” You asked out of the blue, “You keep giving me side glance, you never saw a woman before?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. It was impolite of me”

“Yes, it is. My father killed men for less than that.” You added acidic.

Something in your tone and demeanor... Like a heavy lassitude, like you were crushed by something. But what?

“I will keep it in mind, then. Thank you for the warning, Your Majesty.”

You sniffed with disdain before looking back down to your drink.

“So it’s you....” You finally added after several minutes of silence, “the Navy’s favorite pet.”

He turned back his gaze to you, squinting.

“The Navy’s pet?” He repeated politely.

“The only alien in the Navy, and a Commodore at that. You pissed off a lot of people, my congratulations.”

He was not able to judge if you were sincere or sarcastic.

“I do my best to do my job. But some people never seem satisfied, I cannot do anything more to content them, I am afraid.” He humbly admits.

“Like me.” You let out with a little voice.

You did not say more and he did not pryied.

“Why are you not enjoying the party, Your Majesty?” He asked, curious, “Your sisters are getting their fill.”

You snarled in response.

“If you came here to flaunt my dear sisters in my face you can leave, sir.”

“My apologies, Princess. I was simply curious why a young adult would not enjoy such a party.” He explained.

You turned your head and for the first time your gazes crossed.

“What about you? You do not seem the type to enjoy parties either.”

“My young years are behind me.”

You frowned.

“Are they?”

Well technically he is still considered rather young for Chiss standards with their longer lifespan but for humans, he is middle-aged. But you don’t know that.

“I am over 45.” He informed you.

The way your beautiful human eyes rounded up in surprise was quite delectable.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not.”

“You barely look 35.” You responded astonished.

He came to understand it was a compliment on his physical appearance. Something he was not used to.

“I thank you, your Majesty. You look ravishing yourself.”

He stopped dead. Was ‘ravishing’ too much? How do you respond politely to a woman appreciating your physical appearance, and what is the proper and polite response when that woman is an Imperial Princess?

You gauged him up and down before exploding laughing.

Not one of those overly musical and false laughs of politicians and freeloaders, a true, pure, and sincere fit of laughter. Something coming directly from the heart.

Something fresh.

He remained still, not knowing how to react. Your laugh was quite pleasant to hear, and the smile you tried to hide behind your hand enhanced your features gracefully.

“Oh Maker.” You breathe to calm down, “You are quite funny, sir!”

He failed to see what was funny in his response but he was not starting to question a Princess. You sighed deeply, still shaken by the remnants of your laugh. At least you were smiling now, that heavy sentiment hovering over you seemed to have disappeared. At least for now.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” He diplomatically responded.

“So tell me truly, why did you come hiding here?” You asked, a bit more lively.

This time he was the one looking down at his drink for a fleeting moment.

“Politics... Evade me entirely.” He finally reveals.

“Same.”

He looked at you curiously.

“But you are a Princess of the Empire.”

“That doesn’t mean I can lead. I dislike politics. I prefer my studio.”

A studio? The type he is hoping for?

“What type of studio?”

“Oh ... Just.” You gave him a side glance and lowered your gaze, embarrassed “No. You will find it stupid.”

“I will not judge, Your Majesty.” He solemnly declared.

“I ... Paint. A little...”You revealed, fidgeting your fingers.

His heart jumped and all of his social anxiety and restraints lifted up like a cloud. You paint? It’s marvelous news! He loves paintings, why not tell him sooner?

“This is not stupid, Your Majesty. Art is a very noble and respectable hobby, I am a humble art enjoyer myself.” He explained calmly, keeping his growing enthusiasm on a leash. “Would you have pictures of your work to show me by any chance?” He daringly asked

You looked at him absolutely horrified.

Please, do not look at him like that...It displeases him, even though he doesn’t quite know why.

He likes it when women are comfortable with him, it is gratifying to be perceived as a protector. He wants you to feel relaxed around him.

Especially you

For some unknown reasons...

“I... No!” You hurriedly responded.

He tilted his head. He wanted to see some of your work. It is so important for artists to be seen and perceived for them to flourish in their talents.

He just wanted to give you a positive boost... But you denied him.

“I understand.” He responded, a bit disappointed to have lost this opportunity to speak about art.

You looked at him, embarrassed before rising on your feet to close the curtain entirely, giving the little salon a cozy and very intimate atmosphere. You took out your imager of your little purse and approached him shyly, suddenly self-conscious.

He looked at you approaching with an impassible expression, but hope constricted his heart.

“Do you promise to not mock me?” You asked like you weren't an Imperial Princess with significant powers.

No. At this very instant you were a shy, but hopeful young artist, ready to expose herself intimately to a fellow art enjoyed, pressing your imager against your chest.

You were taking a leap of faith...

And he was ready to catch you in his arms.

“I never mock an artist, Your Majesty.” He declared with all the serious in the world.

You gulped and sat down next to him, handing him the imager with a slightly trembling hand.

“This is not very good...” You warned him.

Who cares? If you are a beginning artist with a low level he will be more than happy to give you references and art currents to study to help you in your art journey.

But you were actually really good with a brush. No need to get all shy about it, you should be proud of your paintings!

You studied a lot of subjects and tried a lot of different techniques and materials, your style could be soft and appeasing with pastel colors, bold and brash with vibrant brush strokes, or gloomy and eerie, creating a haunting atmosphere.

But no matter how different your paintings might be there was one very clear constant for him.

Your innate good and soft nature.

Not in a fragile or virginal way, no. But something bright, shining like a real sun, luminous, warm, inescapable, and unstoppable...

How could you be Emperor Palpatine’s daughter?

How was that possible?

He silently observed your work under your worried gaze, awaiting his judgment. It is clear you hid this part of yourself from everyone else, and maybe he was the very first person who took interest in your hobby, the very first one you let gaze upon yourself so intimately like that...

Because it was very intimate, he knew it. He stripped your soul naked before him and he ogled without any shame, taking as many details as he could.

And he very much liked what he saw.

Where were gentle souls like yours in the galaxy? They appeared so rare and he would very much appreciate one in his life. A friend honest and deeply good by nature...

That sounds terribly enticing to him.

He knew nobody on Coruscant, spending his entire leaves in art galleries. But maybe now he could visit them with a nice company at his arm? Simple rendezvous filled with passionate discussions about art, speaking and debating a subject until you both lose your voices and only look into each other eyes to continue the discussion.

That sounds terribly nice...

But you are a Princess and him a Commodore. How would that work? He was not even sure he had the right to be in the same room as you.

But the idea was just so nice... An art partner, being friends with an actual artist, getting to witness the intricate process of creating a masterpiece.

That is just so alluring to him...

“So?” you asked with a short breath.

“This is high-quality work, Princess. You have an undeniable talent and obviously worked really hard to get to this level.” He praised, “I can only encourage you to continue.”

“You think... I could live on my brush one day?” You inquired, hope lying in your voice.

“It is a real possibility, I can see it happening.” He nodded with a tight encouraging smile.

“... Thank you.” You let him knew, “I...”

You seemed to be about to say something else but suddenly jumped on your feet, the heat signals of your face through the roof.

“I need to go! Good evening Sir!” And like that you left him, speechless, still holding your precious imager.

Maybe the tension of showing your art to someone else for the first time was too much for you. This was quite endearing and he let out a little chuckle amused.

He resumed his art exploration on your imager, he will find a way to send it back to you.

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

He didn’t sent it back.

He kept it, he has it every day in his inner pocket, close to his heart. He rummages through it when he can, seeing you through the pictures, getting to know you through each paint stroke.

He innocently thought about you two becoming art friends to satisfy his knowledge cravings, but instead, he developed an... interesting bound with you.

Without your knowledge.

He tried several times to come to see you at your art studio to give it back, only to remain at the door, silently spying on you painting through the cracked door.

He wished not to disturb the holy inspiration flow so precious to artists. He would break your entire rhythm if he knocked at the door and stopped you.

How could he dare disturb the process of art? Especially yours? So he remained at the door for long hours until you decided to exit the room or he heard someone come by.

When you weren’t here he forced the door open to tidy up the place and look at your last pieces.

But one day you were simply preparing yourself to paint so he entered. Unannounced, unwanted he walked in like he owned the place. You didn’t see him at first, focusing on your flimsy sheets when you raised back on your feet to discover him observing your latest piece with attention, his hand holding his chin, appreciating every detail.

“Oh dear Maker!” You jumped back.

He turned his head to you with a tight smile.

“My apologies, Princess.” He said not at all sorry.

“What are you doing here?!” You asked in some sort of panick.

“Your father requested my presence today, and I had hoped to be able to catch you paint.” He mundanely explained it like it was evidence.

“And why is that?” You asked suspiciously, hiding some sketches behind you.

“My apologies Princess, I got ahead of myself. I have something belonging to you and wanted to give back.”

He took out the small imager of his pocket to hand it to you. He already has several copies and backups of all your art.

“My imager!” You shouted, relieved. “Where did you get it?”

“You actually gave it to me years ago when I was still a Commodore.” He explains gently.

You took the imager back and looked in the gallery, with an elated smile.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, Mister.” You raise back your clear gaze at him.

Of course, you knew his name, he was the only alien of the fleet, surely his name traveled the corridors of the Palace and he knew it. But Politeness and etiquette demanded you asked.

And you are a very polite woman.

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed to you.

“I am Vice Admiral Thrawn. I am delighted to meet you again, Your Majesty.”

You elegantly bowed back.

“I am (Y/n) (L/n).”

“Are you not a Palpatine?” Thrawn tilted his head.

You bite your lower lips, like you spoke too much.

“I... Prefer to identify with my mother’s name.” You explain.

“It is a very beautiful name, it suits you marvelously.” He reassured you, “Do you mind if I remain for your next session? I long to observe an artist in their element.”

“Oh well...” You spin your head towards the holo clock on the wall and all of your glee seems to melt, your smile disappearing, “I am afraid there won’t be a session today... Yet again.”

Thrawn squinted.

“Is there a problem, your Majesty?”

“No its...” You sighed deeply, “Another model ditched me apparently. He should have been here an hour ago...”

“If you allow me, your Majesty, I can replace him if you wish.” Thrawn proposed immediately.

“I...” You purse your lips, thinking “I usually book models for three to four hours, are you sure you have that time?”

“I do today.” He answered politely, hiding his enthusiasm, “By a splendid hasard I have nothing booked for the rest of the day. I can model for you as long as you need.”

He very carefully planned today’s agenda to have his afternoon and evening free after his visit to the Emperor. It will postpone some operations on the Chimaera, but nothing he cannot catch up on, he made sure of it.

You hesitated, your gaze traveling from Thrawn’s stern face to your flimsy sheets.

It is the fifth model ditching you.

The fifth Thrawn got rid off.

Cleanly.

Discreetly.

When he entered your studio in your absence he got the occasion to detail your work and picked up on your... attraction, towards those young men.

Something that infuriated him greatly, even though he wasn’t sure why. He never felt like that before, longing for your presence, to get to know you better and well. This is a very new sentiment to him, he desires to be with you, to listen to you talk, to help you, to just be here in the same room as you. You could be silent and still, sitting on a pedestal and he would sit and look at you with all his attention, trying to pierce your secrets.

Why are you doing that to him? Where does this deep sentiment of covetousness come from? Right now he just wants to grab your hand and flee away from the Imperial Palace with you, take the first shuttle and take off for the never-ending universe, take you far away from that man you call father and Emperor for you both to live free.

He always feels so cold all day long, but in your vicinity, everything warms up, the ice melts, and the sun dares from its rays on his flesh, bringing him back to life and waking him up from a long coma. Laying his gaze on you he feels like opening his eyes for the first time and taking his first breath.

Is that... Love?

Did Cupid finally hit him with an arrow after ignoring him all his life?

He quite likes how that sounds.

He wants more. So, so much more...

But for now, he looked at you hesitating, patient, with a tight polite smile of someone only desiring to help.

“Well... If it isn’t too much trouble for you, I would appreciate it. What about a portrait to start?”

“But of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve.” He bowed his head again deeply pleased that his plan worked.

He cannot help but wonder, how do you see him? Is he handsome or repulsive to your eyes? Is he powerful or weak?

He will soon know it through your primary sketches...

-------

“What are you thinking about Grand Admiral Thrawn?” You call him back to reality

Thrawn blinks, realizing he is posing for you once again in your studio. It is quite rare that he lets his memories take the forefront of his mind but his mind drifted off observing you painting him like that.

You took great care to not look at him in the eyes since that party and he is greatly pleased by the turmoil he stirred within you. Today again you cannot look in his direction without your face’s heat signals rising.

How delectable...

You draped a long fabric on him and gave him a staff to hold, ordering his pose, and started to paint. Holding the pose is hard but that only pushes him to appreciate art even more. He feels your focused gaze skimming his skin, detailing his muscles, observing the crooks and crannies of his flesh, taking in the different shades of blue of his skin.

He feels his heart accelerating with your eyes traveling his naked form.

He never exposed himself in such a way to anybody before.

It is so intimate.

So erotic...

He feels great under your gaze, he feels... Empowered. Like he could become what he was always meant to be under your brush, that through your gaze he truly could realize himself. He feels his chest puffing up with pride and satisfaction. That surge of warmth spreading in his chest and heart when your eyes skim his skin feels so soft and right...

“You truly have mesmerizing eyes, I hope I will be able to do them justice...” You say almost to yourself, fully focused on your sketch.

“We could do a series of portraits after, you could study them in detail.” He proposes.

“Thank you Grand Admiral.” You smile.

“Please, call me Thrawn, Your Majesty. I am a simple man at your art service in this room.”

“Then call me (Y/n).” You decide, “Let’s just be a man and a woman for this afternoon.”

“I simply cannot, Your Majesty. You are an Imperial Princess, I cannot address you with such familiarity.” He counters.

Who is he to address you so casually? He will not strip you down of your titles and grandeur.

You pout, visibly displeased by his response.

“All right...” You say very disappointed.

He clenches his jaw, conscious of his misstep.

“If you truly desire it, I will address you as you wish (Y/n).” He responds softly.

But in his mind he will keep using your titles, they suit you so well.

You nodd enthusiastically, relieved by his new response.

“Do you want to take a look?” You ask.

He descends from the pedestal and passes on a gown to modestly cover himself, but he doesn’t close it, coming to admire your genius on the canvas, discovering himself through your own eyes.

You take a picture with your imager that he gave back, adding it to your collection. His heart sprints at the view of the imager in a very Pavlovian response.

He had... other uses for your imager.

He will never admit it, not even under torture, but... He furiously masturbated several times using your art collection on the imager. He has no rational explanation for it. One day he was terribly bothered, to his utmost inconvenience, and hoped that some nice paintings could distract him.

But instead

He just got such a clear picture of you, of your good nature, of your amazingly sweet personality that he became hard like wood, worsening the situation. He found a self-portrait of yourself, looking straight back at him with such a clear and assured gaze... And he just lost it.

He fisted himself, entranced by those expressive eyes looking brazenly at him.

He never came so hard before, his entire body struck by lightning, setting fire to his very soul. He was left breathless and disoriented, his large chest rising up and down rapidly, your impudent gaze fixing him intently.

The high was so high the descent was devastating, leaving him craving more of you, by any means necessary...

That’s when he decided to enter your studio for the first time.

Thrawn discovers the canvas.

He discovers himself slouching regally on a throne like he is presiding over a tedious political case and is about to give his royal judgment.

You remain a step behind, fidgeting your fingers.

“What do you think?” You ask a bit worried.

An idea flashes in his mind, a bad idea, but oh so delicious...

“Technically very interesting and avant-garde. But there is something...” He teases sadistically.

“Something? What? What is wrong? What did I do wrong?” You immediately panick.

“Are you familiar with male anatomy?” He asks, falsely investigating.

Of course, you are familiar with it, he saw you paint it plenty of times.

“Yes! I am!” You protest.

“Let’s see...” He gently takes your hands to place them on his large pecs.

Your eyes round up in surprise and your breath is caught in your throat.

“Feel the muscles, how they are built in the body.” He casually instructs while he takes your hands for a jaunt on his body, caressing himself with your soft palms.

“Hum... Grand Admiral?” You try.

“Feel where they start and end, where they cross paths and attach to the bones.” He slowly pushes your hands down his abdominals.

You audibly gasp as he directs your hands on his naked body. While your body heat skyrockets in your embarrassment and confusion, he revels in the softness of your touch and the freshness of your hands on his thick skin.

Your touch is delightful. Delicate and tender. He has all the pain in the world to not moan in bliss...

He presses your palms on his abdominals, pushing them farther and farther south.

“It is very important you understand how the muscles twist and bend.” He lectures you like you didn’t already know that.

“Grand Admiral...” You press him more and more embarassed.

He takes a step forward and you take a step back.

He takes another one and you do the same.

He finally blocks you against the desk where you keep all your colors and pigments. You jolt when your back hits the wooden table, caged between his half-naked body and the furniture. He stops your hands on his groin region, right above his cock.

He looks at your flustered face intently, how you evade his gaze and your heat signals are the worst he ever saw. He refrains from licking your face as he so desperately wants to.

Your sex is irradiating a warm light to his infrared vision, well awake and demanding attention. He takes great pride in the reaction of your body to his daring advances, but you also appear tense.

“Feel how my male body is different from your female body, feel it deeply... within you...” He whispers, looming forward to press his forehead against yours to look at your eluding gaze. He pulls your hands to wrap your arms around his waist as his own hands come to seize your hips, slightly slipping them under your corseted top to caress your smooth human skin.

You cannot help the gasp escaping you, shocked to your core but indubitably... interested. Curious and craving for more.

Still, the uneasy feeling remains in the pearl of your eyes.

He presses your hips together and rolls his pelvis, delighting himself in your hot and bothered reaction. Your hands are trembling and sweaty but they hold on his lower back. You slowly and timidly raise your gaze to meet his, mouth agape and with a short breath.

You gulp as he smiles, satisfied.

Are you a virgin? Will he be your first?

His heart pumps harder!

You first... But more importantly your last!

He lowers himself with a satisfied grin, but right before he is about to kiss you, he suddenly grabs your ass to lift you up and put you on the table, making you yelp in surprise. His hands lift your skirt to caress your round thighs, dividing them open to slide between them swiftly.

His blood is beating furiously, his hands caressing and exploring your gorgeous body eagerly, mentally pesting against those useless clothes hiding your naked perfection to his burning rubies. You let out a weak moan between precocious fear and irrefutable excitement.

Your hands circle his shoulders and you dig your nails into his blue flesh, to his utmost pleasure, pulling you tighter towards you.

Everything comes to a halt as you look into each other eyes with heavy breathing.

He wants you.

He craves you.

And he will have you!

In one way or another, you will be his and his alone.

He will rip you out of your father’s claws and build you a life of comfort and love. He will hold you close and tight, showering you with adoration every day, worshipping at your feet.

Thrawn taunts you with his lips, hovering them over your parted mouth, making your throat go dry with anticipation. He teases you with a kiss on the tip of your nose, before letting out a low growl as your gazes meet, you cannot help but moisten your plump lips with your tongue with a short breath.

Thrawn hand seizes your lower back to pull you close and tight against him, his second hand embracing the back of your skull to pull you ever so slightly closer to his tempting grin.

You look at each other in a suspended moment, listening to each other heavy heartbeat, feeling the sheer tension in the room before Thrawn lowers himself with the intent to kiss you.

“Please... Do not hurt me...” You ask with a voice so low and feeble he barely hears you, tears in your eyes.

He stops his motion.

Why would-

“Sorry for my late arrival Princess, I-”

A man enters the studio unannounced, absolutely ruining the moment. You yelp in surprise, pulling on your skirt to cover your bare legs while Thrawn merely turns his upper body towards the intruder to shoot him with his glare, making no effort to cover his modesty.

The man is clearly embarrassed to have walked in during an intimate moment, but Thrawn wants him more than embarrassed. He wants him repentant and desperate.

“I am sorry, Sir.” You jump off the table, flustered, pushing your hair behind your ear to put up a front, “Thrawn, I present you Sir Hatway, a curator of an art gallery I invited to judge my art.” You gesture towards the impudent.

The man clearly doesn't know what to do with himself in front of a naked Chiss.

“Sir Hatway, this is Vice Admiral Thrawn of the Imperial Navy and one of my favorite model.”

Thrawn heart speeds up at the compliment, but outside he is still shooting down Hatway, frowning, displeased.

“Should I... Wait outside, Princess?” The impolite man asks.

‘Yes he should!’ Thrawn thinks, clasping his hands behind his back.

“No! No...” You hurriedly respond, “It is all right, you didn’t interrupt anything. We can look at my paintings now.”

Thrawn gaze slides to you.

What do you mean ‘didn’t interrupt anything’? He wants to ask impudently.

He chastises himself. You are an imperial Princess. You cannot just fool around with anyone like that without consequences from your father, you must preserve your reputation.

The insolent nods unsure, still uneasy, before turning towards Thrawn with a smile he surely hoped to be affable, but honestly is just pathetic. He takes a step forward with his hand extended.

“Please to meet you Grand Admiral Thrawn.”

Thrawn consciously takes his time to gauge him up and down from all his height, straightening his back to look at him with all the smugness his rank conferred him. He finally took the man’s hand to shake it.

“The pleasure is mine, Sir Hatway.” Thrawn tightens his grip until the man winces in pain, “You will obviously not say a word of what you saw.” He asks, deadly cold.

“N-no, sir. I saw nothing and know nothing...” He pitifully responds

“Good...” The Chiss nods, venomous.

“You can go, Grand Admiral.” You say, fidgeting your fingers, still visibly agitated, “We are done for today.”

“If you allow me, Your Majesty. I am interested to witness your audition.”

“I...” You bite your lower lips again, thinking, “All right.” You concede.

When Thrawn exits the changing room in his pristine white uniform, Sir Hatway is no longer the pitiful man who entered the studio. He stands proudly before your paintings, detailing them and judging them imperially.

You remain a bit behind, full of apprehension and hope. Like the day you showed Thrawn your imager.

“This is not very good to be honest with you, Your Majesty. This is amateurish at best, and I am being generous.”

Thrawn stops dead in his tracks. Did he hear right?

“But I...” You try.

“It will not be possible I am afraid. You should abandon painting entirely, this is not a world for a fragile flower like you...”

Thrawn takes a single glance at the painting you are presenting right now.

Your dear mother’s portrait.

You spend long hours on this one, pouring your tears and blood in the paint to bring it to life and honor that woman.

And that... Uncultured fool rejects it?! Calls it amateurish?! Thrawn never saw such passion in a portrait in a long long time!

He heard enough.

He walks to the man with three long strides, catching both of your attention.

“Sir. I will invite you to take back your words immediately.” He said very coldly, camping in front of the fool, towering over him with all his height.

“Who do you think you are to teach my job?!” The impudent retorted, any traces of the former shy man long gone.

“Who do you think YOU are?! Is your heart so dry to be so blind before such a shining jewel, before such explicit talent, before such an evident masterpiece? I can not let you say such things.”

The man looks at Thrawn afraid and confused but sticks to his guns.

“No! It is my job to evaluate artists that wish to enter our art gallery and she doesn’t have the level expected.”

“Can you not see she is ahead of her time? That she is avant-garde in so many aspects? I pity your gallery Sir, we must only find mediocrity inside.”

“Are you insulting me?!”

“You insulted her first.”

“Grand admiral please...” You try to calm them both

Thrawn raises his hand to sush you.

“She has no talents, and no future in the art world. I am doing her a favor by telling her early.” He bites.

Thrawn feels about to punch this man.

Instead, he takes a step back and takes out his pair of gloves from his pocket, and throws them at the impudent’s face.

“I will protect her honor, I challenge you sir.”

“What?! No! This is getting ridiculous, stop-” You try to interject again.

“Fine! Whenever you damn please Alien!” The fool retorts.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037 @davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @leo4242564

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

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ccaramel-llow · 1 year ago

Note

I present to you: A request featuring Jax, Zooble, Gangle, and Caine with a musician s/o because DAMMIT it sounds adorable

Reader’s a goofy fella, real silly, they can play a BUNCH of instruments, sing well, dancing, they love it

but they can be a shut in sometimes 👉👈

seeing as Zooble does the theme song (and has to rework it when someone new shows up-) and I just get the vibes you can’t convince me that Zooble isn’t at least a little bit of music nerd /lh /j

(i am also a music nerd tbh, Thats why me and zooble are marri WOAH WHO SAID THAT)

JAX

. Honestly he'd ask you to to play an instrument over someone while their speaking because hes a little evil shit you know?

. Makes fun of you and says your music sucks when he secretly loves it when you play.

, He finds you attractive and hot if you play the guitar while screaming angst-y shit if your emo like that/j , but he bullies you for doing that as well.

, He'd ask you to teach him how to play the drums while your speaking to someone. not because hes jealous or anything, Nope. He is.

, He sucks ASS and DOG SHIT at dancing. Expect him to step on your feet if you try to dance together.

, Since you're a "shut in" He tries to get you out more but then later gives up and just comes into you're room or personal business without warning to smother you with his so called " Love language " (Which is just bothering you until you yell at him to shut the fuck up)

, Hides in your room to listen to you play, Or sits outside your room just so he can hear you play.

, Loves it when you sing, He has to fight his demons and intrusive thoughts (he wants to sing along with you to rizz you up COU-)

, Beats up and bullies anyone who says you aren't great at playing, Dancing, Etc.

" My lover IS the best musician here. Wanna repeat that you little s(*&$! ?"

ZOOBLE

, They pretend like they don't care. Like at all.

, Although, In reality they care and love your music a lot! They even ask you to teach them how to play an instrument

, Zooble would always listen and be there for you when you played, Enjoying the soft/Rough melody of a song that you were presenting for them in a private space.

, Tell's everyone to shut up when your about to play, And mask's their excitement with anger.

, Their eye's shine when you pull out an instrument and their eyes go dull whenever you weren't gonna play.

, Ask's you to play a song sometimes when their in a bad mood.

, Zooble also cannot dance for jack SHIT. Do not try to teach them how to dance. They'll go insane i swear.

, Since you're a shut in, She always asks if you're busy or not, Or if your comfortable or stressed before asking to play a song because they dont want you to get overwhelmed.

, Adores your voice, And always secretly makes sure you dont over stress your voice out.

, Compliments you when you're finished singing.

" You did great out there. Uh, Hope you dont mind teaching me how to play soon?... "

GANGLE

, She LOVES It when you play calming melodies using your preferred instrument.

, Probably asks you to play the violin as she stares at you with heart shaped eyes.

, Would go feral on Jax if he breaks your instrument on purpose and cry with you in your room trying to comfort you.

, Smothers you with a lot of compliments when you are finished playing.

, Rants about you often to show you off and because you cant get off her mind.

, She smiles brightly when you play an instrument.

, I feel like she'd be an okay dancer!! She'd ask you to dance every now and then, But if you dipped her during dancing she'd be extremely flustered and her eyes would turn into the shape of a heart.

, Likes to hum along with you while you sing. Gangle really is inlove with your voice and starts to just doze off while admiring you.

" (Name) Is the very best person i had ever met... I hope xey play more melodies soon!! I love it when they sing.... BUT YOU DIDNT HEAR THAT FROM M-"

CAINE

, He would honestly go ' AWOOGA HOT DAMN ' all over you.

, Can play piano, Please let him duet with you.

, Stares at you with lovey dove-y goo goo eyes while playing, Admiring you as you both play, Definitely not imagining you guys making out.

, Like Gangle, He too smothers you with compliments but extreme. Like, He's peppering your face with teeth kisses if given consent.

, Since he's short, He'd love to dance with you!! He has to float if your too tall, But if your the same height, He attempts to pull the spin and dip move on you to rizz you up.

, ADORES YOUR SINGING. SING FOR HIM PLEASE.

, He always records you singing and listens to you singing in his free time while thinking about you.

, Would always try to get you to open up since your a shut in. If your always in your room, He always tries to get you out because he's afraid you would reach your breaking point and abstract. He cant lose you.

" My dearest is the absolute best at playing instruments, Dancing, And all that stuff... Oh how much i love xem.... What do you mean they aren't?"

#digital circus #tadc zooble #tadc x reader #tadc #tadc gangle #tadc jax #tadc gangle x reader #tadc jax x reader #musician reader #x reader #fluff #romantic x reader #slightly obsessive?#Idk #tadc caine

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sondheim-girly · 2 months ago

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for @world-burnn, stagedoor was awesome!

it was pretty quiet and not too crowded (still kinda crowded, but it didn’t feel as insane as I’ve seen in pictures) i left during bows and got barricade. The girl next to me was saying how bad she felt to leave during bows and I was like “ahhh same!” oh my god and I was shaking so bad… my character shoes are partly to blame but like my legs were going crazy!

my cousin got videos of a lot of my interactions but I’m way too scared to rewatch them so im gonna go off of memory!

first Brent came out, and I was right at the door so when he walked out he looked at me and said “Marcia!” Then continued on to sign other people’s playbills before he came back around to me.

RJ came out but I can’t remember for the life of me what I said to him

i got to meet Dre and I told him how glad I was that I got to see him (cuz he’s only in the show for a month) and he was so sweet

kwp lowkey looked so brain dead during stagedoor and I do not blame him 😭 but we got a photo together and he put his arm around me and I think i passed away

Josh strobl came out (not to sign, he wasn’t in the show that day lol) and I just watched him walk away and was fangirling so hard tbh

melody came out and complimented my costume! I told her I’d cried off all my makeup and she said she would have done the same, then told me that sg would be coming out soon (which was a lie)

Emma came out and was THE SWEETEST EVER!!! She took her time with all of the fans, and with one of them she commented on how quiet it was and the fan jokingly asked if they should all be louder and she was like “yeah we should all hum our favorite songs” and it was sooo funny. when she turned to me she was like “right… and you ate” and kept on complimenting my costume which KILLED ME she was so nice… I told her my friend had made it and she was like “well tell the friend that it’s amazing!” And i gave her the letter I wrote to her (which she was again so sweet about) and when I asked her for a photo she was like “well Marcia and Cherry are best friends!”

then Trevi came out and I told him how glad I was that I got to see his ponyboy and he was really sweet

Anyways I love this cast so much and it was just an incredible experience!

#jean has thoughts #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #Jeans broadway trip #brent comer #the outsiders stagedoor #rj higton #andre malcolms #kevin william paul #josh strobl #melody rose #emma pittman #trevor wayne

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recreationalfanfics · 2 years ago

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Hi! How are you? Can I request Buddha, Thor, Poseidon headcanons where reader loves to play the guitar or piano and their singing voice is angelic? :)

I KNOW YOU ASKED FOR POSEIDON AND I APOLOGIZE, but I am kinda getting sick of writing for him lol but REGARDLESS, I STILL HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE AND I'M SORRY THEY TOOK SO LONG-

Buddha:

- Buddha loves having you play for him while he naps and chills. Like, he's napping under his tree and you're singing and strumming and he subtly opens one of his eyes to look at you.

- BECAUSE LET'S BE HONEST, HE IS WHIPPED and he just smiles at how peaceful and gorgeous you look as you play so elegantly or as you sing so heavenly. It highkey makes his heart flutter when you do it for him ngl.

- Culturally, from what I've read so feel free to correct me, buddhist monks are only limited to playing only certain instruments so he's also very curious about your guitar since he never has heard anything like it and so he will ask you a lot of questions and hopefully he doesn't annoy you with them.

- He does like the piano too, just, the way you sit so elegantly as you play and the melodies that you play absolutely just leave him hypnotized. Like, he's staring at you with the most adoring and admiring look ever.

- NO, BECAUSE IF YOU WRITE HIM A LOVE SONG OR TRY TO SERENADE HIM, HE WILL FOLD IMMEDIATELY. THAT WOULD LITERALLY MAKE HIM JUST SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY AND YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO WIPE OFF THE SMILE HE HAS ON HIS FACE FOR W E E K S.

Thor:

- Tbh, Thor may not look like he enjoys or cares about you playing but TRUST ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT HE DOES, HE REALLY DOES. Like he can be on the other side of heaven and the moment you pluck the strings on your guitar or press a key on your piano, he is right there next to you ready to hear you play.

- Wants to try it out but he's worried that he'll break your instruments, after all. But, like if you decide to put your hands on his and guide them, he'd genuinely enjoy that because as helpful as it is, he loves any affection that you give him.

- Has you play at different Asgardian functions, if someone scoffs at you and your music because you're a human or for some other reason, Thor will wait until your done before turning around and punching them in the face. He'd hate to distract your amazing performance after all♡

- NO BUT WHEN HE'S HEALING FROM HIS FIGHT, PLEASE STAY AT HIS SIDE AND SING FOR HIM. He claims that hearing your voice makes the pain go away or hurt just a little less because, well, your voice is simply divine and it makes him happy.

- IF YOU WROTE A LOVE SONG OR MADE HIM A SONG ON GUITAR OR PIANO, HE'D BE A BIT OF A FLUSTERED MESS. He knows that he isn't the most expressive lover and he worries that you'll lose interest in him because of his stoicism so if you do, HE WILL LITERALLY SMILE AND SHYLY BRUSH A STAND OF HAIR FROM HIS HEAD BUT STILL WATCH YOU CAREFULLY WITH THE KINDEST AND MOST LOVING GAZE HE CAN MUSTER.

#record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #ror x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv x reader #ror buddha x reader #snv buddha x reader #buddha x reader #ror thor x reader #snv thor x reader #Thor ror #thor snv

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keewu · 6 days ago

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What VOCALOID/utaite song fits the sds characters?

This is basically me combining my two biggest interests haha, but yeah I've really thought about this.

Meliodas: Aun no Beats. So from what I've read and what I think the meaning of the lyrics is. It's a person who mourns the death of their lover, and not being able to be together anymore (we all know why this checks out) the line that stuck out to me was "we were going to be together forever" anyway I really like this song and I think it fits him.

Elizabeth: Yume to Hazakura. This is a really beautiful song and its very melancholy. It talks about distant memories and unforgettable words, tbh I think it just fits her vibe. For Meliodas I had like a reason I don't think I have for this one. But it fits her and it's a beautiful song.

Diane: Lonely Universe. It was HARD finding a song fitting her man. But I think this is cute and it's her feelings toward King. It's in my opinion about a person who loses someone (King making Diane forget about him) and waits for them to come back, like they are always looking for something. It also feels like the person waiting is quite alone which Diane was after she left the giants, she didn't have anyone since the humans found her scary.

Ban: Vita. I gotta give my man a depressing song bro. So I can't really find the "meaning" of the song so I'll just make my own conclusions. It says "I'm living as best as I can" and "dying as best as I can" and I feel like that resonates with Bans character, you can't tell me that man doesn't want to die when he deliberately went to prison to get tortured. It also says "it's getting worse and worse" which I feel like Ban felt when he said that everyone he likes ends up leaving him.

King: Lemon. Ya'll I cannot not give King the yaoi angst okay. So the song is about grieving for a loved one, someone who's already passed (Helbram hehe) it has lines which are very beautiful like "Even the pain from that day, I still loved it all with you" and "more than I knew I was in love with you" (if you can't tell I really like King x Helbram) overall the melody of the song fits him too and overall I really frickin love this song.

Gowther: Hitomodoki. This is a mafumafu song (one of my fav artists btw) and Hitomodoki means kinda like Pseudo-human which in of itself fits my boy here. As soon as I listened to this song I thought how much it fit Gowther and I could go on a super long rant, but instead I'm just gonna drop some lyrics on you cause you'll see what I mean. "Is this hole I had mistakenly opened within my heart" and "In this human form, without becoming a human" and "oh, my heart — I once wished that you would have stopped" like you get what I'm putting down??

Merlin: Rollin' Girl. I had so many songs for her, like bitter Choco decoration, bad apple, lost ones weeping etc. But I decided to go with the old classic depression song. Again from what I read and how I interpret it, it's about a girl who's very lonely and needs help but never accepts it from other people. Even though she's in pain she want to keep "rolling" each day at a time (continue to live) she always wants to be perfect/succeed. Lyrics: "it doesn't matter how It turns out, that's just a downward hill towards more mistakes" anyway I feel like this song really fits her. Also this song may or may not have been my most played song last year and Merlin may or may not be my favorite character hehe...

Escanor: The reason I wanted to die (Boku wa shinou to omottetanowa. So as you can see this is a depressing song once again (all these mfs be traumatized) and its a really beautiful song that really shows how Escanor feels in my opinion. It sings about reasons to want to die and it's about grief and despair but also hope. The lyrics "The reason I wanted to die is because I hadn't met you yet" and "I fell in love with this world a little more where people like you were born" feels a bit like his feelings toward Merlin which is cute.

This is honestly mostly for myself but if you enjoy reading all this thats great!!

#i really like doing these haha #i was thinking id do more happy songs next time since this turned depressing #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #nnt #sds #7ds #merlin nnt #gowther nnt #meliodas nnt #ban nnt #elizabeth nnt #diane nnt #escanor nnt #king nnt #rant #vocaloid

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osgoss · 4 months ago

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My BKDK Band AU (part 1)

Aka my self-indulgent Drummer Bakugou x Bassist Izuku

First things first, Izuku probably learned how to sing first and became part of a choir before he learned to pick up an instrument. He always wanted to play in a band as a kid, and he'd join katsuki's rehearsals just to watch him play.

He only takes interest sometime in his graduating year of high school, when his music teacher (toshinori cough cough) points out how interested he looks while watching katsuki and his band rehearse for a class project. Izuku pretty much throws around excuses as to why he never really learned how to try, from choosing choir first or finding the guitar too complicated, and 'ahh the drums were always kacchan's thing not me' or just not having the talent to play an instrument. Intrigued, Toshinori points out the bass guitar, which isn't as flashy as a guitar or drums or even piano, but certainly just as important as the other instruments, and how learning it would be easier ("what with less strings and less complicated chords, you know?"). For a moment Izuku thinks, a bit hopeful, but then immediately shuts down because he 'wouldn't really have the time to practice it now, and assuming bass guitars are about the same price as an electric guitar, I don't really have that kind of money right now haha'. And then Izuku's final reason would be that he would never dare to outshine or much less step on the same stage as Katsuki Bakugou, the famed drummer.

Toshinori then goes on a tangent of how drums and bass most often than not go hand in hand. While pianos and guitars and singing take care of the melody and tones, drums and bass are important for both the tempo and rythm of a song.

The next time they meet, Toshinori is giving Izuku his old bass guitar, and thats the start of Izuku's journey to learning the bass!!! Personally I like to think Izuku is on the higher notes when it comes to singing, and so bass would also be a refreshing start for him!

As for Katsuki, he's always adored the sound of Izuku's singing voice despite never admitting it. Yet I like to think he has a core memory of them when they were kids, and Izuku sang to him to cheer him up. He never really visited the other's choir practices or rehearsals, but whenever there was a school event or Izuku was asked to sing, Bakugou would always listen intently. In fact, he might've even developed a certain hate for his own voice, with how loud and gruff his voice is, ever since he was a kid. This was the main reason he chose to pick up an instrument, too. He wanted to shine just as much as Izuku in his eyes anyway.

Oh and the reason why Bakugou got a head start on learning the drums was because he had a gameboy as a kid and liked to play rhythm tengoku ALL the time. He got so competitive over it, too.

When Toshinori announces that Izuku will be a part of the band for the project, Katsuki freaks the fuck out. They have this fight for a while, a few weeks before the presentation of their class project, ykno classic bkdk misunderstanding yowza <33 what with Bakugou feeling intimidated by how much Izuku is growing, while also having the slight fear of never hearing Izuku sing again (he feels stupid for it, but never admits it out loud). He does his best to make him give up or discourage him and tell him "you're better off using your ugly nerd voice", which of course Izuku takes the wrong way (can you blame him tbh), and yet Izuku finds himself challenged but hopeful. He doesn't want to throw away the chance (and the guitar) that his teacher gave him. The chance to finally be on the same stage as his childhood friend, to shine just as brightly and beautifully.

They still do rehearse together despite this, and through all the struggle, there are times when their practices turn out better than expected, and in these times, Izuku isn't sworn off at as much.

And then a big fight goes down between the two of them, and they're both angry and arguing because they're running out of time, and Izuku still can't get one part correctly. Bakugou has always been a perfectionist at heart, and Izuku has always respected him for it. But for the first time, Izuku feels just how far apart they are in skill, and he hates it. For now, all he can do is appologize and say "I'll do better" in any semblance to reassure the blonde, but they both know there's just too much at stake amd too much missing. Izuku spends the rest of the night practising until his fingers get blisters.

In the end, Izuku couldn't back out because the other bassist wasn't any better at the bass than Izuku was because he'd thought the greenette wouldn't be replaced at all. In the end, he couldn't perfect the segment he'd wanted to in time, not even on the night before the presentation, no matter how many band aids he used to wrap his blistered up fingers.

On the day of the presentation, Bakugou was driven to a boiling point, repeatedly starting the song over and over until Izuku got it right. Not having a single care about the audience of parents and teachers bellow. Only when they'd finally asked his mother to coerce him to play the song one more time, in full, and in a way Bakugou didn't want to, had Izuku realised just how much their relationship had deteriorated. Playing a song as a band had never felt so restricting, feeling as if your bandmate was your enemy. Feeling as if the people you were playing with didn't want you there at all. For Izuku's first experience on the stage, he was crushed to bits. Turned into a no one. A deku.

When he goes back to the music room to retrieve his(toshinori's-) bass, he finds the strings purposefully cut and left on display, and it doesn't take him a second to know who's behind it (most likely one of bakugou's 'friends' to send him a message). "We can always replace them," Toshinori reassures, "it would've been a real problem if they messed with the back." But the damage had been done, and the message was received.

(To Be Continued...)

"Toshinori-san, do you think I have what it takes to be a bass player?" The question catches him off guard. He takes a moment and then moves to sit beside the younger boy. "Hm. Well, you do have a bass in hand, don't you?" He makes eye contact with the other. "Doesn't that make you a bass player already?" And the boy bursts into tears.

They all pass and graduate despite the kerfuffle of their last project, and Izuku decides to go into a deep dive into learning the bass over his summer break.

Phew!! Wow, this took a lot longer to edit and write ngl, but it's my first written AU!!! YIPPEEEE!! This was actually meant to be a crack AU, due to an ongoing meme in the bands communities where bass players and drummers often get a long well and end up being 'shipped'. So i thought it'd be funny if bkdk was like that, and surprisingly, my brain just decided to brainworm the HELL out of it. So here we are! I'm definitely already working my way into making part 2 so u don't have to worry about that! Hope yall enjoyed reading!!!

#bnha #bkdk #bakudeku #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #drummer x bassist trope #major timeskip in part 2

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niki-phoria · 2 years ago

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can i request enhypen reaction to 8th member m!reader(crush) not a big fan skinship, hold his hand before starting event

maybe they are blush or anxiety (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

i have something, tada take it (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

⋆｡°✩ enhypen reaction - their non-affectionate crush being affectionate

includes: blushy enha, tried my best not to make these all the same, you could read these as established relationship tbh i didn't really know how to incorporate the crush aspect besides just making them flustered lmao

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i hope you like it :))

male reader (no pronouns used)

⋆｡°✩ heeseung

(word count 227)

heeseung smiles as the noise of the crowd overpowers the monotone repetition of the metronome that plays on a continuous loop through his in-ear monitors. his smile grows as he removes the right side from his ear to hear the audience singing along to his lines better.

heeseung startles slightly when you jump down onto the stairs to sit beside him. your smile mirrors his own as you raise your microphone to your lips to sing your own lines. you gently knock your shoulder into his as he playfully reciprocates. heeseung can feel himself growing more flustered as you continue to sway along to the beat together.

you shift even closer to him, reaching over to grab his hand into yours. heeseung’s attention remains on you as he intertwines your fingers together. he finds himself fixated on your bright smile as you look out into the large expanse of crowd before you - thousands of people who came specifically to see all of you.

you chuckle when you look over at him, gently nudging him to bring him back to reality. heeseung’s face flushes a bright red when the rest of the world comes back into focus. the backtrack of his lines harmonizes with the audience’s cheers. you give his hand a reassuring squeeze as he brings his microphone up to his lips to finally finish the song.

⋆｡°✩ jay

(word count 259)

you wake up to a small stream of sunlight fighting to break through the curtains covering your window. the dorm is quiet as you roll onto your side to look at jay’s bed. it’s almost instinctual - checking for him. you find yourself searching for him through crowds or straying by his side during your free time.

you stretch as you sit up, throwing the covers off of you and standing up. the floor is cold against your feet as you walk through the dorm in search of jay.

finding him is easy enough. the smell of freshly cooked eggs draws your attention towards the kitchen. you lean back against the doorframe as you watch him. a familiar soft melody plays from his phone speakers as he continues dancing around your kitchen as he makes breakfast.

the urge to wrap your arms around jay grows until you decide fighting it is no longer worth it. you wait for the song to end before you push yourself away from the door frame, walking over to where he’s standing. he jumps a little when your arms suddenly snake around his waist as you tug him back towards your chest into a loving embrace.

jay furrows his eyebrows as he turns to look at you. “y/n?”

“hm?”

“is everything okay?”

“��m fine,” you murmur against his back. “just tired.”

jay chuckles. “okay.” he’s grateful you can’t see his flushed face as he turns back to the food he’s preparing. you let out a content sigh as you relax against him even further.

⋆｡°✩ jake

(word count 280)

people rush all around you. they switch between swarming around different members and frantically running to grab a different shirt or a new makeup product. you stare at yourself in the mirror, eyes drifting across each different part of your face. little black lines of eyeliner frame the corners of your eyes and a thick layer of foundation coats your face to hide every “imperfection” lying underneath.

you sigh, gently brushing your bangs out of your face. you’re careful not to ruin the style as you carefully change into your stage outfit. it’s simple - black pants paired with a black blazer that’s accentuated with a similar white wing-like design as the others. it feels comfortable but does little to soothe your nerves.

you jump slightly when someone rests a gentle hand on your shoulder. “sorry,” jake whispers, immediately moving his hand away. “are you okay? you look nervous.”

“i am nervous,” you sigh. it’s a foreign feeling - to miss someone’s touch. jake sits down next to you. his hand rests on the table next to you. it looks so inviting to reach over and take it into yours, though you resist the urge.

“you’ll do great,” jake smiles. something about the small gesture calms you down immediately. “we all will.”

“but what if i make a mistake or-”

“y/n,” jake chuckles a little, reaching over to grab your hand. you hope he can’t see how flustered he’s making you with each small touch. “you worry too much. everything will be perfect.”

you smile at him, intertwining your fingers together and gently squeezing jake’s hand. his face lights up in a light blush that makes you chuckle. “thank you, jake.”

⋆｡°✩ sunghoon

(word count 255)

it’s late when a gentle knock awakes sunghoon. he stirs slightly, eyebrows furrowing in his sleep as he tries to ignore it. however to his dismay, and mind annoyance, the knocking persists.

he sits up with a sigh, throwing his blankets to the side and trudging his way to the door. his eyes widen for a second when he opens it to you standing on the other side. your hands are a little shaky and even in the darkness he can tell that your eyes are a little red and teary. you bite your lip as you look down at the floor. “i’m sorry, i just…” you let out a shaky sigh and wipe your eyes quickly. “i can’t sleep and it’s been a terrible night. can i… stay with you?”

sunghoon can feel his heart breaking at the sight of you so upset in front of him. “yeah, yeah,” he whispers. “of course.” he opens his arms; letting you all but collapse against him. he wraps his arms around your waist as yours find their home around his shoulders. you sniffle, burying your face into his neck.

sunghoon gently guides you backwards to lead you into his room as he shuts the door behind you. it almost feels surreal to have you finally in his arms - even given the less than ideal circumstances.

you let out a shaky sigh as he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “come on,” he whispers. “lay down with me. we need to get some rest.”

⋆｡°✩ sunoo

(word count 227)

the high of a concert feels like nothing else you’ve ever experienced before. the cheers of the crowd blend together in a beautiful harmony as you stand on the elevated platform, waving goodbye. “we love you!” jay yells into the mic. the cheers grow louder, making your smile grow.

beside you, sunoo silently reaches over to take your hand into his. he pulls away as soon as he does, anxiously looking over at you. instead of pulling away from him entirely you simply smile and reach over to take his hand in yours once again. you squeeze his hand as you follow his lead in bowing to the audience.

sunoo can feel his face flushing at the feeling. he’s quick to lower his head down to try and avoid it being seen by the cameras. he covers his face with a hand when you stand back up, giving a final wave to the audience before the platform begins to move. the stage lights slowly disappear as the platform finishes lowering. you let out a small sigh as it finally stops with a final click back into it’s original place. sunoo’s hand remains tightly in yours as you step down back onto solid ground, surrounded by the cheers of your staff. despite it being a new feeling for both of you, neither make any move to pull away.

⋆｡°✩ jungwon

(word count 255)

you watch as jungwon anxiously paces around his dressing room, mumbling the words of his speech over and over to himself as if he’ll be able to suddenly memorize it more than he already has. he fidgets with his fingers, neck craned down to look at the floor. the edges of his suit are starting to become wrinkled from how hard he’s gripping the fabric and you can all but see the neck strain beginning to appear.

jungwon jumps slightly when you suddenly stand up, walking over to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “jungwon,” you whisper. “relax. you’ll do perfectly fine.”

he sighs, eyes shifting to look away from you and down at the floor once again. “but… it’s a big deal. we’re speaking at a national assembly! i can’t afford to mess this up-”

“and you won’t.” you pause, moving your hand to tilt his head up to look at you. you try to ignore how butterflies swarm in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up with jungwon’s eyes staring into your own. “we’re going to go out there and sit down and you’ll give your perfect speech and then we’ll go back to the dorms and celebrate with a perfect cake and our perfect friends.”

jungwon’s face flushes slightly when you raise your hand to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against the soft skin. “okay,” he whispers with a final nod.

you smile, tugging him down to press a kiss against his forehead. “good. then let’s go.”

⋆｡°✩ niki

(word count 252) i love him sm you don't understand

you let out a shaky breath as you wipe your hands against the fabric of your pants in a poor attempt to calm yourself down. the lights shine brightly in your direction, nearly blinding you as you stare out into the crowd. it’s never looked so big before - full of thousands of people staring at you. the cameras surrounding you from all angles that used to be commonplace now only serve to add to your nerves. how many people are watching? is it live? are they recording? what if you mess up and it follows you for the rest of your career? what if-

your swirling thoughts are interrupted by a gentle hand reaching over to grab yours. niki glances at you momentarily before turning forwards to face the crowd once again. you can tell he’s also nervous; though unbeknownst to you, his reasons are different than yours. while your mind anxiously runs through every possibility of messing up in front of the cameras, niki worries about you.

despite normally avoiding touch, instead of letting go of his hand, you intertwine your fingers together. niki smiles a little as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. you force yourself to take a deep breath - as much as you can - before letting the tension relax from your shoulders. standing on the biggest stage you’ve ever seen in front of the largest crowd that’s ever surrounded you, an unspoken agreement passes between the two of you: i like you. we should do this again.

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