This is a collection of "x Fem!Reader" stories for when I feel needed to ship you with a crush of mine...
(or when I just can't find any x Readers that involve said crushes.)
~*~*~*~
These will range from:
🔞Amphibia (Grime x Reader),
Psycho Gorem...
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"Hahahaha! Devil, stop!" Your happy laughter echoes through the ship as Darth Vader tickles your stomach, making your wiggle around on your bed.
"Do you promise to stay in your bed?" he asks, hovering his hands over your midsection and giving you a moment to breathe.
You take in quick huffs, and then you grin at him cheekily, your bright orbs locking with his glossy helmet eyes. "No."
And with that, you roll over and attempt an escape by crawling away. But before you can hop off of the bed, Vader grabs your waist and tugs you back, making you squeal out in protest.
He plops down on the bed and pulls you into his lap, resting his head against the black bed frame and closing his eyes. He smiles to himself as you wiggle around, grunting and twisting while grabbing at his gloved hands, attempting to pry his arms off of your waist.
Finally, you go limp, blowing a strand of hair out of your face as you lean your head against his chest. You need a moment to regain your energy, so you focus on his steady, mechanical breathing as you wait.
Your brow furrows as a question arises within your mind. "Devil?" you ask, craning your head up to look at Vader's helmet.
He hums in response, and looks down at you, smiling when his dull eyes meet your bright (e/c) orbs.
"Why's your breathing funny?" you ask, reaching your hand up and feeling around the mouthpart of his mask.
You hear a soft chuckle ring out from him as he bends down, making his shoulders bounce and causing you to grin widely at him. He presses his helmet against your forehead, and the cold, black metal nips at your skin, but as you close your eyes, you find yourself enjoying the feeling.
He pulls his head away, and you drop your arm down to your side, fluttering your eyes open to gaze up at him. "Do you not enjoy the sound?" he asks, his head tilting to the side a bit when he inquires.
"I like it. It's like your laugh, and you. I like you," you respond in a cute, squeaky, chipper tone as you grin up at him.
He smiles, and he feels something in his chest clench at your cute, joyful expression. Such innocence gleams in your eyes and voice, and he feels a need to preserve it.
In this moment, as he gazes down at your cute face, he realizes something, something he's known deep down but has been to hardheaded to admit; he likes you too.
