#((a/n: please note this is not a shipping drabble

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

[erensfeed]

⠀actor!au headcanons ft. love & deepspace.

starring: love and deepspace cast x reader. a/n: bc actor aus are actually the 2nd best thing humans invented after ice cream.

⤷ actor!rafayel:

was the first guy you really clicked with after the chemistry read when you were both cast. he matched your energy and made you laugh SO much, all while keeping you comfortable enough to act out all your lines together. from there, you and the casting directors just knew he was going to be the perfect rafayel.

is the main one playing pranks on the entire cast and crew, followed by caleb and luke & kieran. one time, he got you a small present box and wrote on a sticky note “4 the cutest;)” next to it. you smiled and opened it thinking it was probably a necklace or some accessory of some sort. instead, that.. thing — was a tiny realistic looking rat toy. shrieking his name so loud it almost echoed throughout the entire set, you tossed aside the box in panic. and slightly yet jokingly on the verge of tears, you vowed that you would get him back for that as the rest of the cast and crew burst into laughter when they heard your wails from your open trailer.

flirty af with you on blooper reels & winks with this grin, at the camera whenever any of you mess up a line that comes out inappropriately instead.

your blooper reels are hilarious. one time, you messed up a line after closing the door, so you had to step outside and reopen it to start over again. but just as you stepped outside and reached for the handle, rafayel darted over and locked it. you called out his name in disbelief, and the whole filming set burst out laughing. in fact, the name you called the most on set was his.

this guy literally fake trips over, every now and then and stays that way dramatically. “rafayel—” you’d say like a tired parent whenever you walked over to get him, hoping he wasn’t actually dead like he acts.

on twitter (x) & instagram, he follows the hashtag of the ship name for you and him and likes edits of (you) both.

he’s literally so outgoing, funny and charismatic with fans and remembers each of them he sees irl. he often goes live on instagram and is the most interactive and talkative with them as well. ‘no way you made that edit? ohmygod please send that to me’. yes, the fanpage sent the non watermark version edit to him and he followed them so fast in return. the edits still saved on his phone to this day.

is 100% best friends with all the guys but it is so obvious that he is locked iinnn with xavier and caleb.

during a 'generated questions' interview game starring you, rafayel and thomas, one of the questions he got asked was who his celebrity crush was. locking eyes with you, he said your name with a small smile. (brb writing and posting a quick drabble on this)

was actually a big help in composing & finalizing the soundtracks for misty invasion & wander in wonder. and ofc his (favorites): omnipotent perception & gem affection.

he actually loves cats and that ginger cat in that one scene was actually his. that’s why the cat licked his finger because he knows his owner. yes he’s a cat and dog guy.

noticeably gazes at you every chance he gets, yet somehow everrryooone else but you seem to notice.

⤷ actor!sylus:

everytime you think you can finally beat him in a staring competition, you get reminded and humbled on why you couldn’t. and you swore the last time you did, that his gaze flickered down to your lips. ‘mm no you’re seeing things.’

teasing af in lots of (unreleased) bloopers with you like there’s no tomorrow. and unlike rafayel, instead of pranking you, he actually jumpscares you the most instead.

and in most of the bloopers, it’s so evident that all the guys he acts certain scenes with, fight off the urges to make out with him after he winked at them whenever they forgot their lines because of him. he places second to rafayel for who winks or flirts the most & at the camera.

every woman on that set has had a dream about this man. one would think tara would be interested in xavier since she’s around you both a lot more and her character kind of is a fangirl for xavier. yeah no, this girl is head over heels in love with sylus instead.

is also every straight man’s crush, obviously surpassing ryan reynolds. he’s younger and a biker cmon.

is so good with every kid who comes across his path. one time after shooting, he carried two of the main director’s little kids. one was sitting on his shoulders and the other one wrapped around his leg after he took them out to get anything they wanted. yes he spent his paycheck on them. also on you too cause he gets you stufff. he got everyone else things too except rafayel that day, only because he heard he scared you earlier. he actually secretly fist bumped rafayel and did get him something, bc he would have done the same.

thirst tweets made about him are INSANE. when reading them on interviews hosted by buzzfeed celeb, he often flirts with the fans. ‘why don’t you come find out’ he winked once as a reply to a certain tweet. the tweet was someone wondering about something about him in the bedroom. his favorite one was when someone said they can’t wait for him to be a dilf.

the both of you completely improvised that scene where your characters fancily dressed up to find out the location of the aether core. yes the ‘have fun 💳’ and ‘don’t bother me with such trivial matters’ and ‘your offer will make people think im broke, wouldn’t want that sweetie’ lines. this scene displays your skyrocketing chemistry and friendship soooo baddd. and it took only one take too was the crazy thing.

adjusts your hair whenever it looks out of place when filming. one time he reached out, eyes meeting yours. ‘may i?’ and with your approving nod, he gently smoothened a stray strand. his fingers lingered for a moment before pulling back, a small smile on his lips as he caught you still looking up at him. technically, that was the only time you won an unofficial staring competition between you because he shyly ended up looking away first, but of course he wouldn’t tell you that.

⤷ actor!zayne:

was the first guy you had a mini crush on. because literally the first time you made him smile, it felt like the only true and final accomplishment of your life.

has a doberman he kinda grew up with and brings on set after filming from time to time.

actually has a distaste for carrots irl. caleb being the little silly head he was, gifted him semi-huge carrot plushies as part of his birthday gift to him.

the pool table scene above actually became both of your favorites because filming it was so memorable. the screenwriters had intentionally and separately asked the two of you to choose which one of their next written scenes you’d love to film together. and although you and him wouldn’t have minded any of them, you still chose. you both didn’t know the other would match each other’s freak by choosing this said scene. soon you knew and that you loved one another even more that day. now, when it came to acting it out… that was another story.

the first take of where he gently grabbed you by the waist, pulling you on top of him on the pool table, and on top of that smirking up at you was all too much for you. all you could do was breathlessly giggle uncontrollably while covering your face due to the fact that your entire body and face grew hot, because you were so flushed by being that close to him.

now, it was your turn to be laying on the pool table after he switched positions. the way you watched as he grabbed the cue stick and leaned down over you as he told you to ‘watch closely’, had him chuckling and apologizing instead. ‘sorry, sorry’ he waved a hand in front of his face apologetically, looking away from you yet still failing to hide the blush creeping onto his face. and when he had the courage to look back at you, ‘hi’ was simply what he said with a sheepish grin making you and the filming crew still laugh through the 8th retake of that scene. if only you knew your eyes were his weakness.

during your travel to film in snowcrest / the artic, the amount of snowball fights you two had was insane. then after. you made lots of snowmen and snow angels. and in order for you not to get cold he got you lots of hot chocolate and helped warm your hands up with his whenever you were cold. like one time, when the main director was telling you both what he wanted from you in the scenes, he had a feeling that your hands could be cold so he interlocked his fingers with yours as the director spoke.

he is the thoughtful parent friend to be honest and also quite the gift giving male friend because he buys you (as well as the other co-stars) lots of things. you would think he was a doctor the way he took care of you guys.

you and the fans favorite blooper reel was when him and sylus were talking using a helium balloon. either that or when you both kissed on his birthday scene and he said he was the luckiest guy in the world.

of the four and their bromance, rafayel & xavier are clear boyfriends while zayne and sylus are husbands.

one time, he posted a pic with sylus and you openly commented ‘zaddies’ making everyone quake, especially the fact he not only pinned it, but responded “hi baby”.

⤷ actor!xavier:

eeveryone calls and knows xavier is your shadow.

seriously. because this guy is always seen together with you. there’s rarely moments he’s not around you really… on and off set. paparazzis left and right almost always see you two together, and that of course sparked rumors on whether or not you two had a thing or have a thing going on.

it didn’t help that on instagram at first, he only used to follow 2 social media accounts. yours and loveanddeepspace. some fans and blogs speculated that it may be because he was dating you. others doubted that though because it was clear that the other guys probably genuinely liked you as well and there was no way you were dating any of them because they were your co-stars in this show since you wouldn’t risk breaking up while acting. all of that whole thing made both of you publicly come out to clear up all the dating rumors. yet nobody except your crews and co-stars, fully believe you two in particular for some reason.

speaking of co-stars, you and xavier are victims to rafayel’s and caleb’s pranks. but whenever they get you specifically, he plots something with sylus and zayne to get back at them for you.

out of all of you, this man curses the most when forgetting his lines — caleb is a close second. ‘shit ‘m sorry.’ has gotta be his go-to. couple of 'fucks' and 'dammits' here and there are also present in his vocab. also, he does this thing whenever he messes up where he covers the upper half of his face with one hand in embarrassment as giggles emit from the two of you. *laughing with you and the crew during a failed take*: ‘i swear it’s way harder than it looks — pretending to half awake and remembering what to say at the same time...crazy’

you surprisingly sleep on set more than he does and it’s always in xavier’s characters’ bedroom too. have you seen the room they gave this guy’s character? insanely comfortable. after filming for the day, and you fall asleep on that bed, and whenever xavier hears you waking up, he’s always there purposely in your face and ready to play around by saying ‘we just had another mini pizza party you just missed’ making you tiredly smile and lightly smack him with a pillow.

the two of you have a lot dancing moments together. either just dancing for fun, to ease off tension or just waltzing. on the blooper reel for his birthday scene, when you were both warming up by waltzing together, you jokingly asked him ‘how come i don’t see these moves in the bedroom?’ he let go of you as he looked at you in utter mock disbelief ‘girl —’ causing you to let out bashful laughs at him.

xavier with all his fangirls though ? the cutest ever. numerous tiktoks and tweets repost pictures with each fan girls because he literally looks like their boyfriend with how he takes pics with them. like this guy makes it worth it to meet him. they usually gift him a lot of cute things and he hugs them. and it doesn’t help that his hugs are so comforting bye. he is literally a whole charming prince too and the perfect guy to have a celebrity crush on.

below are some comments you’d see on those ship posts of you and xavier:

xavierslullaby: OHMYGOD THE WAY HE WAS LOOKING AT HER WHAT starfishylover021: bro the way he kissed her cheek wtfff that shld be meeee sylustruewife: guys i need this man or a beer rn or im gonna be sick

or * shared posts with fangirls:

loveanddeebussy: AYO WHO TF ARE THESE RANDOM WOMEN NEXT TO MY BABY DADDY. ⤷ theweekndsexygf replied to loveanddeebussy: girl..sorry to break it to you but that’s my husband. ⤷ erensfeed replied to theweekndsexygf: ummLMFAO im coming to you both as a woman...

extras your honors: rafayel & sylus playfully pick on you often, zayne & xavier protect you from them. they all smell so good. are actually great chefs. and are obviously all crushing on you.

— also guys lemme know if you want more or with caleb bc a girl has ideas and couldn’t fit them all in here.

update: .˚𐚁 {part 2}

©2024 ERENSFEED. all rights reserved.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU SPEAK HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE TO HIM (18+) (One Piece) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I had this idea after remembering that Luffy is Brazilian. Enjoy! And please, PLEASE let me know if any of the foreign phrases used are not correct or accurate. I did the research on Google. Thank you! -Jazz 🩷🩷

*********

LUFFY (PORTGUESE) 

You always loved it when Luffy spoke in his native language. 

He is from Brazil and though he hadn’t lived there in years since meeting Shanks and traveling among the Grand Line with the Strawhats crew, nothing and nobody could ever take the Brazilian out of him. It was in his blood. 

He always made it known with the Brazilian recipes he would ask Sanji to make and the music he would blast across the ship. Usually, this resulted in him forcing you to dance him with and holding your hips as his his swayed and rolled in ways that often resulted in your knees going weak and every part of you becoming tingly and sensitive (including the places where Luffy usually had his mouth on). 

He wouldn’t speak Portuguese often; only sometimes and at random moments, like when something exciting happened or when he was asleep. You would catch him mumbling words in his native tongue as he drooled on the pillow, making you giggle.

He would do it during sex too, usually when his tongue was buried deep in your pussy: “Você tem um gosto tão bom, mama. Deliciosa (You taste so good, mama. Delicious.),” he would mumble into your pussy while you whimpered and moaned.

Or when he had his cock buried deep inside of you as he hammered away at your insides, gripping and smacking your ass: “Tão bom! (So good!)” he’d moan into the bedroom. “C’mon, mama, cum with me! Goze comigo!” 

His usual high-pitched voice would get deeper and raspier in his native tongue as each foreign words rolled and flipped on his tongue. It would make you combust every single time, cumming all over his cock at the same time as him bursting inside of you. He would then peck your forehead once you snuggled up together, his hat on your head. “Te amo,” he’d whisper, never telling you what it meant, but you had a feeling. 

So after picking up on some of his lines and inflections, you decided to try out speaking his language one night. It was a boring night and Sanji was cooking, trying to get Luffy out of the kitchen as he groaned and complained about being hungry.

“Y/N, would you please come get him?” Sanji sighed. “He won’t leave and I’m not gonna have him sneaking the ingredients off of the counter to eat.” 

“I’m not gonna do that!” Luffy protested. “I told you so, Sanji!”

You had giggled and walked to the stereo sitting on the table, playing one of Luffy's favorite songs that was popular in Brazil. The captain’s head immediately shot up from the table, his big eyes staring at you. You smiled and began to sway to the music, opening your arms for him. 

With the biggest grin on his face, he shot up and went to you, immediately gathering you into his arms. You giggled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and held your hips as he began to sway with you, your senses invaded by nothing but him. He softly sang the lyrics to you, his voice raspy and soft, each word rolling off of the tongue. He sang has if the very song was written for you and you decided now was the perfect moment. 

“Luffy?” you whispered. He pulled away to look down at you, looking like a confused puppy. You cupped his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his lips before whispering, very low, “Te amo.” 

Once those gears in his head started turning, you’ve never seen him look so happy. His smile grew about ten sizes before he gripped you to him and coated your face in kisses. “Hey, hey!” Sanji yelled. “Not while I’m cooking! Do that outside!” 

ZORO (JAPANESE) 

Compared to Luffy, Zoro barely spoke Japanese. 

He would only mutter his native language in swears when he was stressed or angry. Other than that, you could never catch him doing it. He barely even spoke about Japan as a whole.

“Why you askin’ so many questions?” he would grumble, glaring at your curious gaze. “I haven’t been there since I was a baby. Go read up on it or somethin’.” 

But when he did speak Japanese, and that was very rare, you loved it. His voice would get even deeper when he spoke the foreign swear words during a battle and it would make your heart skip several beats. You wanted to somehow coax him to speak it more or even be closer to him than you already were. 

So you started teaching yourself Japanese. You collected as many language books as you could during your stops on islands when walking into town with Nami and Robin and began practicing. In two months, you began speaking in sentences though not professionally or fluently. However, you got each inflection down. 

The first time you said something in Japanese to Zoro, he was busy working out one hot, boring day and you had wandered in, feeling extra bratty. “What?” he demanded, grunting as he did his bench presses, his muscles bulging and glistening in sweat. 

“Just came to see if you broke up with your dumbbell yet,” you asked sarcastically. “I don’t know how the cuddling at night works, but to each its own.” 

Zoro cut his forest green eyes your way before going back to his exercises, barely pausing. “Woman, if you’re gonna come in here with that shit, leave it at the door. You know I need to focus on my training.” 

“But you’re already so strong, Zo!” you protested, padding farther into the room. “And a great fighter. You can spare one day without training.”

Though Zoro looked pleased with the praise, he still didn’t let up and continued to pump those sexy arms away at his presses. Pursing your lips, you walked over to him and kneeled down before him, just as he lifted the dumbbell up and put it back up on the rack behind his head. 

You began to run your hands up his thick, tree trunk-like thighs in his green slacks, squeezing the muscles and digging your nails deliciously into them. He liked that. He tensed immediately at your touch, breathing heavily from the workout. “Stop that,” he growled. “I’m tryin’ to cool down.” 

“Then let me help you,” you purred, sneaking your hand over his cock to give it a squeeze. You were pleased to find that he was already hard. He grunted at the contact and began to squirm under your touch. “I mean it, Y/N,” he panted. “Cut it out.” 

You looked up at him then, staring boldly into his eyes. "Watashi o tsukuru (make me)”, you said in a low, breathy voice that often made your man go absolutely insane. 

At the sound of his native language coming from your lips, the swordsman sat up straight and stared down at you, astounded and extremely aroused. His cock grew in your hand as a blush appeared on his cheeks.

“What did you say?” he questioned, his voice dangerously low. You just smiled and stood up, tearing your hand away from his cock.

“Now are you gonna spend time with me?” you questioned, a hand on your hip and arching a brow at him. 

While this didn't get him out of the training room, it did help tear him away from his workout to instead work you out, your legs spread over his bench and his cock pummeling your insides as he whispered how good you felt in Japanese.

Mission accomplished. 

SANJI (FRENCH) 

Sanji always felt proud of his ethnicity and heritage, so he always made it a point to speak his native language. 

Like Luffy, it would be at random moments. He could be cooking and would mutter to himself in French about instructions or maybe lyrics to a song.

Sometimes, he would swear if he nearly dropped a bottle of sauce or about the noise Luffy and Usopp would make outside the kitchen door. But always, when he served you and the crew, he would give you all a bright, proud smile and a “Bon appétit!”. 

And always, always, he would speak French during sex. He would whisper in your ear about how good you felt and how sweet you tasted, his words like honey in your ears.

“Je me send is bien en too, princesse, (I feel so good inside you, princess)” he’d moan into the tense, sexed-up air of your bedroom, your ankles on his broad shoulders as his cock stroked your insides. “Tellement parfait. Si belle. (So perfect. So beautiful).”

He would kiss your foot before taking one of your toes into your mouth. 

That would usually set you off like a rocket, making you cum all over the bed and his cock. And because he thought you were so pretty, he would always explode deep inside you, filling you to the brim. That’s part of why he always let his native tongue slip in the bedroom with you. 

Other than the nasty shit, he would always tell you, “Je t’aime”. When he would kiss you; before you went to bed; when you’d separate for an expedition or when when you’d go to the other side of the ship. It was only right as the love chef. “Je t’aime,” he’d say, an adoring smile on his face and hearts in his eyes. It would make you tingle and feel warm all over you. 

So you surprised him one night when he cooked dinner specifically for you before the crew even ate. “Sanji, baby, you didn’t have to make me a whole separate meal,” you giggled as you sat down in the chair he pulled out for you. “I would’ve eaten the lamb!” 

“Nonsense,” he tutted, looking sexy in his apron dusted with flour and spices. “You said you didn’t like lamb too much. And believe me, honey: fixin’ grilled fish for you is nothing compared to what these hooligans want.” He then pressed a kiss to your cheek and whispered, “Bon appétit, my love” before hurrying back to the stove to check the yeast rolls in the oven. 

You stared down at the dinner spread on your plate: grilled fish drizzled in lemon and garlic with a side of honey-glazed, oven-roasted carrots, kus kus, and steamed broccoli. You cut a piece of the fish and put it into your mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste. You turned to Sanji, his back to you, as you gushed over the food. “This food is delicious, Sanji!” you said. "C'est trés bon! (It's very good!)” 

Sanji visibly paused before turning around to look at you, confused. Your smile grew and you lowered your fork. “Mes compliments au chef (My compliments to the chef),” you giggled. Before you could take a breath, Sanji was flying across the kitchen and planting kisses all over your face as you giggled. “Since when do you speak French, my love?” he laughed, giddy. 

“I’ve been practicing,” you hummed, playing with the color of his shirt. “I wanted to impress you.” Hearts in his eyes, Sanji pressed his forehead against yours. “And impress me, you did, mon there,” he murmured. “Now finish that food so I can hear more of my native tongue coming out of those sweet lips.” 

You did and while he had you bent over the kitchen counter while the crew ate in the other room, you repeated one word to him, over and over again, as he pummeled inside of you: “Je t’aime”. 

LAW (GERMAN) 

Law never spoke German. Or at least, not in front of you or the Hearts crew. 

“What’s the need?” he asked when you asked him to teach you something in his native tongue. “I haven’t lived there in years. Why are you so interested in my language anyway?” You would tell him you were curious, but that wouldn’t make him budge. 

You found it sad. Though he claimed he felt pride in his ethnicity and his native land, he barely mentioned his time there or taught you any phrases. So, in order to coax him into it, you fixed him a German dish. One day when the ship docked on a little island, you ran out to town to grab the ingredients for it and fixed it for him that night. It took a lot of preparation and stressing over whether or not he’d respond well to it, but that night, you sat the crew down for dinner. 

“I made something special for y’all,” you giggled, smiling secretively at Law. He scowled in confusion and suspicion at you, not sure what you were up to, until the crew took the silver covers off of their plates to reveal their meal: slices of roasted pork shoulder glazed with a cumin sauce and sitting on a bed of roasted potatoes and peppers. “Ta-da!” you shouted. “Sh-wen-braten!” 

At you mispronouncing the name, the corner of Law’s lips quirked a bit while his crew barely blinked. They were too busy drooling over and gobbling down their food. “Wow, Y/N!” Bepo growled. “This tastes amazing! I haven't tasted pork this good in so long!” 

“Thank you,” you giggled, but your attention was still all on Law as he took a bite. You stood behind his chair, nervously ringing a dish towel around your hands. “How is it?” you asked, bending down to hear him better over the chatter. 

He continued to chew and chew, leaving you in suspense, before he swallowed. “S’good,” he murmured and you sighed in relief. “Though you pronounced the dish wrong.” You made a face, pouting cutely in confusion at him. “It’s pronounced “schweinebraten,” he said, his deep voice rolling over the foreign word.

“Sch.” He paused, waiting for you to repeat it back to him. “Weine.” You parroted him, doing your best to keep from smiling out of giddiness. “Braten.” 

“Braten,” you pronounced, earning a satisfied nod before he turned back around to finish his meal. But you weren't done. you leaned down to his ear, loving how he tensed at your touch and presence. “Between you and me, I already knew how to pronounce it,” you purred. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Guten appetit (Enjoy your meal).” 

Something happened to Law in that moment hearing you speak in his language. His cock swoll in his pants and he nearly broke his fork as he sat rigid in his seat. You turned and walked away back to the stove, swaying your hips and biting back a grin as he watched, wanting to fuck you right there in front of his entire crew and make you say some very nasty words in his native tongue. 

“Law, why are all red like that?!” Jean practically yelled across the table. 

“Shut up!” Law growled as you laughed. He was gonna get you back for that later tonight.

[venusbyline]

Okay I’m literally brainrotting so hard about reverse age gap Helaegon??? Stupid absolutely pathetic teenage Aegon BEGGING for Helaenas attention. Like sobbing promising to be good. Edging him while he like sobs and pleads for it. But yk that’s what he gets for being a brat.

She doesn’t even let him have it by her hand, he’s gotta hump the bed while he eats her out until he can’t hold himself up anymore. Until he’s an absolute mess.

I need more of this I stg

Whiny Boy (Helaegon)

— summary: During the afternoon, Helaena works as a babysitter, taking care of Aemond and Daeron, the youngest sons of her mother's friend when she's not home. However, after putting the boys to bed at night, Helaena always goes to Alicent's eldest son's room. Aegon may act like a stubborn brat in front of his family and friends even at his 16 years old, but what no one knows is that the boy loves being the whiny little slut of his younger brothers' sexy babysitter.

— pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Helaena Targaryen

— type: smut, modern AU

— word count: 423

— tags/warnings: Young!Aegon, Babysitter!Helaena, DEAD DOVE: DO NO EAT, consensual underage sex, age gap (older woman/young man), rough oral sex (female receiving), dry humping, dacryphilia, degradation kink, orgasm denial, butt slapping, hair pulling, punishment, secret relationship, Alicent Hightower mentioned, Aemond Targaryen mentioned, Daeron Targaryen mentioned, No Targcest, Helaena is not a Targaryen, Aegon is 16, Helaena is 26, sub!Aegon, dom!Helaena. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: My honest apologies, anon 😭😭 I was gonna write that just as a "horny thought", but I ended up having the idea for this drabble lmaooo but y'all can send me horny thoughts about Helaegon, about Aegon x reader, or other ships and characters too.

— author's notes²: This one-shot (including the summary) was based on my headcanon/AU.

— crossposting: AO3

❥ Aegon II masterlist • Helaena masterlist

❥ ASOIAF headcanons • HOTD masterlist

❥ about me • main masterlist

"Mistress, p-please..." Aegon whimpered, pausing what he was doing with his tongue to look at the older woman's eyes. His own face was a complete mess, pussy juices running down his chin just like the tears he shed when he had been begging only minutes before. "I'll be so good to you, I promise..."

Helaena let out a breathless chuckle, fingers tangling into his long hair that he refused to cut even after his mother's countless scoldings. "How can you say you'll be good to me if you can't even make me cum more than one time tonight, whiny boy?" She tugged at Aegon:s scalp, eliciting a moan from him and forcing him closer to her swollen folds again. "You're acting like a needy little slut but you're not being useful. At this rate I'll need to go find other boys to satisfy me after your mother came back home."

Immediately Aegon shook his head, many crystal-clear tears dripping from his pretty eyelashes and wetting Helaena's milky thick thighs. "N-No..." He managed to whine, his voice muffled by her plump pussy. "I'll make it right this time. Please, please..." The older woman rolled eyes with a bit of amusement at the way he was begging like a pathetic and submissive little boy. However, this just served to make Helaena even more aroused, pulling Aegon's blonde hair so she could move the hips against his lips rougher, increasing the friction of her sensitive clit against his nose, leaving the young one's lips reddish and his chin glistening. "You were such a brat today, you know... I saw you telling your idiot high school's friends that you're fucking your younger brothers' babysitter." She arched her body forward enough that she could use her free hand to slap Aegon's round ass, a rosy mark instantly forming on his pale skin.

The surprise at the soft pain made Aegon press his mouth eager against that pulsing bundle of nerves, a loud moan escaping Helaena's throat, biting the lip to avoid waking Aegon's brothers who she had been babysitting a few hours earlier.

Helaena grabbed one of her own large heavy breasts with her free hand and watched while Aegon began to hump his needy cock against the white bedsheets, desperately seeking some relief and keeping to obey the demand about pleasuring that woman, his eyes closed and full of tears, his glans sticky with pre-cum as the minutes passed. Desperately seeking the high too — even though he didn't deserve it that much on that particular night.

[hells-wasabii]

Hi 👋

Could I trouble you for a Zestial x wife reader drabble please?

And maybe a seperate Carmilla x reader drabble too because I ship them and just can't choose between)

A/N: Have I mentioned I'm a sucker for domestic fluff? So I've actually decided that from this point on, if I'm requested more than one drabble per ask, I'll make seperate posts, but still include the ask via screenshotfor easier navigation.

Character: Zestial

Type: Drabble (Zestial x wife!reader, Drabble, Fluff)

It was amazing. Truly, it was.

Despite how 'modern' hell had become, the feel of the city somehow managed to remain the same. You imagined that it would so long as you remained by Zestial's side. It quite honestly reminded you of when the two of you had been alive. You could remember it so very vividly. Even then, your dear husband had been a lord residing over territories. It was similar to how things worked now, something that you had noted many times before. Though now, instead of able-bodied men and resources, power stemmed from souls.

While he had been a lord, you had been his lady, his darling wife who was unafraid to bare her fangs at the other nobles to put them in their place while he dealt with the more bloody matters. Your marriage, though initially arranged, was loving, fulfilling. It had been for several centuries. He was your everything and you were his. You had even been childhood sweethearts, falling in love effortlessly despite your marriage having already been arranged since birth. You very well could have been soulmates.

So it was only natural that you would die together, rising again to create a new empire to rule together.

Several centuries had passed. Overlords had risen and fallen like the tide, however, you and your dear husband remained steadfast.

"Dearest, is all well?" Ah, speak of the devil. Turning your head, you find your darling lord standing at the door. It never failed to surprise you how your husband could move with such grace as to walk nary without a sound. "Thou hast yet to come for dinner."

Even in small moments such as these, your dear Zestial remained attentive.

"Just reminiscing, dear. We have built much together." You pointed out, hoping to ease his mind as you turned back to look at your shared territories. He nodded, moving from the doorway to join you as you softly conversed.

"That we have, my dear wife, and so we shall continue to do."

"I greatly look forward to spending the rest of eternity with you, dearest. Our love is not one to be sullied by the sands of time. We have grown stronger, together." His expression turned content as his hand found the small of your back. A small but welcome gesture as he gently guided you closer to him. Truly, it didn't matter where you went or what you did. You were more than content so long as Zestial was there with you.

"May we remain here, just a little longer?" You asked, though truly, you already knew the answer.

"As you wish, my wife."

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Bucky Barnes Drabbles

• This is my side blog for writing so any follows/likes/replies/comments/asks are from @just-another-fangirl-69

• This blog and my writing is intended for people over 18+ only. If you are a minor, do not interact!

• All my work are with Female!Reader in mind! I try not to describe the reader in detail since I want to be as inclusive as possible.

• I do not consent to have my work posted, translated or published anywhere. The only place you will find my work is on Tumblr, Wattpad and on AO3 under the same name. If it’s found anywhere besides those mentioned, it has been reposted without my permission.

• I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

• All fics are under 800 words in this masterlist.

Main Masterlist

Fluff || 💚

Smut || 🐍

Angst || 🌿

Dark || 🪴

Trigger warning || 👒

Fics over 1K notes || ⭐️

Fics over 2K notes || 🌟

Fics over 4K notes || 💫

• Nights & Mornings TFATWS!Bucky (💚🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: How you and Bucky go to sleep and how you and him wake up.

• Nightmare (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: Bucky comforts you after a night terror.

• Sleepless Nights (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky comforts you when you can’t sleep.

• Cuddle Emergency (💚)

↳ Summary: You’re in some desperate need for cuddles from Bucky.

• Bucky buys you tampons (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky has no shame in buying you what you need.

• A Piece Of Her (🌿👒)

↳ Summary: Bucky loses an important thing of yours after your death.

• Alpine (💚)

↳ Summary: You adopt a cat that Bucky isn’t so very fond of to begin with…

• His Love & Comfort (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: You comfort Bucky after a nightmare.

• Rainy Mood (💚)

↳ Summary: What better to do on a rainy day than lie in bed with your husband and cat all snuggled up.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #1 (💚) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Bucky giving Y/N a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #2 (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky and Y/N walking through town, holding hands while it snows.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #3 (💚🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Bucky: “No need to fantasize when the real thing is right in front of you.”

• You Don’t Care If They Can Hear (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: You and Bucky don’t seem to care that people can hear you fucking at a party.

• Ghost From The Past (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: A ghost from the past comes back to haunt your beautiful and peaceful life.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #4 (🐍) 💫

↳ Summary: Y/N is someone who never swears. Never. Until Bucky is inside her, thrusting with reckless abandon, and taking great pride in the fact that he can reduce Y/N to this disheveled, lustful state, unable to say anything but his name and swearing from how good it is.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #5 (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Bucky and Y/N are on a motorcycle together. The constant movement and touching is getting them kind of excited...

• Dirty Talk (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Day 2 of Kinktober 2022.

• Farmers Market (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 6 of Flufftober 2022.

• Preparations (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 9 of Flufftober 2022.

• Warm Cuddles (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 12 of Flufftober 2022.

• Haunted House (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: Day 25 of Flufftober 2022.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #6 (💚)

↳ Summary: Reader is reading a book and is talking about how they ship two of the characters together because of [insert cute reason here], and then Bucky says “that sounds like you and me right there.”

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #7 (💚) 🌟

↳ Summary: Bucky is about to leave for a mission. Reader asks him if he’s forgotten anything, and Bucky gives her a kiss. Reader becomes slightly shy and opens her hand to reveal Bucky’s wallet, saying “I meant this, but thank you.”

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #8 (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: Bucky and Reader getting sick at the same time.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #9 (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky and Reader getting lost in IKEA.

• Christmas Tree Farm (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 3 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Decorations (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 4 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Cozy Morning (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 5 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Goodies (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 6 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Drinks (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 7 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Under The Mistletoe (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 10 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Cozy Night (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 11 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Coffee Shop (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 12 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Market (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 13 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Santa (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 14 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• That Walk (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: That walk. That goddamn walk of his that’s laced with sex and confidence. Fuck, you can’t get enough of it.

[jakesangel]

jake dating idol!jake ꣑୧ - drabbles ver - requested

make sure to read the headcanon first <3

end if the year ceremonies

wow, hyung i don't think i can handle it, jake would whisper to heesung as your walking to the stage. she looks too pretty tonight, i can not not give it away, he would add w a pout. and he was so right. the second he sees you in the big screen, winking at the camera, all dolled up, fuck hee- he'd try to say but thankfully jungwon stopped him, knowing fans are alwasy recording idols' reactions. he would try to keep his face emotionless, just bobbing his head along the beat, but if the song too good, he'll get up along other idols dancing in tiny to your song. he'd be the one clapping the loudest when you're done, n when you pass in front of him, bowing as a sign of respect, he'd whisper, you did so well, my love.

weverse/vlive

engene have you heard of this song ? it's so good hold on lemme put it on, he would say as his eyes that was once on the phone, recording him, going to his laptop to go thru his spotify playlist. wooow or let's gauur would be added as he hears your voice. he would also put his hands up, snapping along the beat. n if he is feeling bold he would fake read a comment as your song ends ' y/n is such a nice singer ' yes she is ! we've met before for a tiktok challenge, engene must know that right ? she is also very nice.

music shows

안녕하새요 he'd say w a bow as he sees you n ur manger coming closer to him to record tiktok challenges. he obviously already know the choreography of your song, n already have an ending pose. but he would keep his cool n not get overly excited, specially whne the cameras are rolling, we could do this as an ending pose, if that's okay with you, showing you the venom hand sign. tho whne you agree, his special smile for you could be seen without him knowing, giddiness buzzing out of his body. he would still smile as he dances to your song, finally happy to be seen w you n hoping his supporters n yours would ship. n that wouldn't go unnoticed to engenes as he is know to lip his lips, this time his teeth showing.

off camera

come on bby, lemme come over. i promise you i'll cover up well n your company won't know, he would say in a late night call, his pout as clear as water. please baby i miss you so munch, he'd whine almost begging when you keep telling him no. but if you don't valid reasons for him to not come over, he would just hang up n come to you, straight away. n once the door is slightly open he would hug you instantly, my princess, he'd say w a sigh, you were so so pretty today. do you know how hard it was for me to not look at you ? hum ? he'd add pulling you back, one hand holding your chin. n as he come close to your lips, my pretty pretty princess, all mine, finally kissing you.

notes : hai anon bby ᵎᵎ thank you for making me write this i can NOT believe i didnt in the other one >< j hope you like it as munhc as i had fun writing it <3 lemme kno

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war, drabble 4: the one where you sideline him

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: none!

Author’s Note: sorry for the wait lol! i hope you like this one, it’s pretty long for a drabble, but it introduces some really fun circumstances for the future of this series :). Please let me know if you would like to join the taglist! It’s open to all, and from now on, I will be putting it on all of my fic updates, so if you’d like to stay in the loop, it’ll help you out!

Happy Reading! (And Happy Holidays & New Year!)

- Dan

⇐ PREVIOUS DRABBLE | NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

The Aintree Racecourse, Liverpool, 1895

Y/N Y/L/N

“Mama, please,” you begged, attempting to masquerade your growing apprehension with your publicity expression. You feared the closer you walked to the racecourse, the less you could hide your worry. “If there is something underway, I must know.”

After all, the 57th Annual Grand National Horse Racing Event was not one to trifle with. The tradition began in 1839, generations of your family present each year. You’ve attended alongside your mother and father since you were able to walk, but this year was the first time you arrived so late. The race was to start in a handful of minutes, and your family was just in the midst of finding your reserved seats.

As always, the Aintree Racecourse bustled with excitement, commoners populated the outside stands, journalists in their from their designated media platforms. Betting tents boasted long lines of hopefuls, upper and middle class individuals, judging by their apparel. Event staff guided you and your family to the noble viewing area, a terrace above the working class stands to shield aristocracy from the blazing sun, the scent of horse muck, and curious columnists.

“Darling, honestly. You must trust me and stop looking so vexed,” the Countess replied jubilantly, her arm intertwined with your father’s. She waved away your concern, too flippant for your comfort. You lingered behind them, Daphne’s arm in yours. You knew what your mother was like—she was a romantic. With something in store. Your father, the realist’s, grumpy mood only confirmed your theory. His deep, disgruntled sigh was far from lost on you.

“Do believe her, my Lady. Everything is perfectly well,” Daphne chimed in, though you distrusted her appeasing grin. Her expression seemed thin and strained, her blue eyes scanning around you and refusing to meet yours.

Still, as typical as the event seemed to be, you knew there was something disquieting in store. Your mother and Daphne had been behaving unusually all morning—from the moment the maid prepared you for the event, the entirety of breakfast, and the long carriage ride to the race course. Giggling, sharing long looks, whispering.

They hadn’t even let you view the contenders, the jockeys and their respective horses in advance of the race. Typically, you and your parents liked to make predictions based on the statistics provided by the racecourse’s invitations. You liked to make predictions based on the little science you knew about horse racing—the track conditions, the horse’s fitness and temperament, the weather.

Her refusal to show you the data meant there was some sort of surprise awaiting you—knowing that caused anxiety to gnaw at your stomach. It strained your cordial smile. This surprise could only be something related to the race, the identity of the jockeys or perhaps the horses?

How you detested surprises. At their essence, they were situations you were made to be unprepared for, and unpreparedness meant you could very well mortify yourself, the Y/l/n name, and the Richmond Earldom. And TransAtlantica. All in one fell swoop.

Your mother couldn’t seem to keep her gaze away from the racetrack for more than a few minutes, excitement in her eyes. She was waiting for someone, and judging by her disinterest in the rest of the nobility on the terrace, she was not awaiting Ciel Phantomhive. A worker at the event showed you to your reserved table and row of seats, lifting the place card that read Richmond and promptly departing. This part of the terrace boasted a flawless view of the racecourse and the labor class spectators.

“Daphne my dear, please find all of us some refreshments. This heat is simply intolerable,” she fanned herself, sharing another suspicious smile with the maid.

“Of course, my Lady,” Daphne curtsied to the both of you before starting off.

Your father, on the other hand, wasted no time in finding the other Earl amid the festivities. From across the way, you watched him shake hands with Lord Phantomhive and immediately steer him your way, their conversation inaudible as they approached you. Lord Phantomhive was dressed elegantly in a light beige suit. His olive green tie tucked into a white undershirt.

“Hello, Lady Y/l/n, Lady Y/n,” Lord Phantomhive greeted you and your mother, directing his bow to both of you. Before you could apologize for your family’s tardiness, he spoke again. “I am honored to spectate this fine engagement with your family. Thank you again for inviting me, Lady Y/n,” he landed a polite kiss on your knuckles, immediately releasing your hand.

At the very least, you could say you were interested in Lord Phantomhive. He entertained such stimulating conversation, curious to know more about your studies, your intellectual pursuits. No other nobleman your age would ever allow you to ramble on about the ingenious engineering that went into a ferris wheel or even match wits regarding classical literature by the likes of Sun Tzu and Machiavelli. Most of your suitors had only been interested in themselves. They’d ramble endlessly regarding their achievements, their family lines, their hobbies.

While that was all important, you craved a connection. A connection with respect, appreciation, care.

“Of course. I enjoyed our promenade at the piers.” In spite of your nerves, your own answering smile graced your lips. You found yourself telling the truth, as well. Lord Phantomhive showed a considerate side of himself during your promenade last week—he was understanding when you made a clumsy fool of yourself. Sure, he could be rather snide at times, but he’d shown glimmers of a gentleman, and you expected to see more. At least he provided you the decency of never bringing up that embarrassment again.

“As did I. I am pleased to hear you feel the same,” he replied, giving your hand a soft, affectionate squeeze before he released it. “Though I must admit that I am not as well versed in the world of horse racing as you are. I’ve heard that your family makes it a point to spectate each year’s Grand National. You must be quite the accomplished wagerer.”

You flushed, fully aware that polite society restricted a noblewoman's betting engagements to lower stakes card games. Noblemen primarily bet at horse races and rounds of pall mall. Instead, you learned the intricacies of a smart gamble and decent odds throughout your formative years. Your father allowed you to donate the winnings to a cause of your choice— last year’s winnings became seed money for developing medical equipment. You personally corresponded with Wilhelm Roentgen, the developer of a new form of electromagnetic radiation for body imaging.

”I am. Though regretfully, my mother seems quite intent on limiting those powers of mine this year,” you said, casting a long and derisive stare at the offending woman.

“Quite regretfully,” your father agreed. Your record more than spoke for itself.

Immediately launching to the defensive, the Countess’ eyes widened with false innocence. “Is it a crime to wish for my daughter’s focus to be on her engagements today as opposed to the race? Must you cast your unladylike predictions each and every year?” She asked, accepting a slim flute of imported wine from Daphne. Your father took a disapproving drink out of his, guiding your mother to sit with him.

“The race is starting in moments and I haven’t the slightest idea of any of the jockeys participating, the horses, the track conditions…” you complained, settling in your reserved seats with your parents to your right and Lord Phantomhive to your left.

“I appreciate your assistance, Lady Y/l/n,” Lord Phantomhive said diplomatically. He addressed you again, “How could I compete for your attention with such a riveting race?”

You watched the jockeys below, some adjusting their horse’s equipment, some already mounted and ambling about behind the starting line. Each competitor’s silks and riding breeches matched the color of their horse's tack, their names and numbers clearly labeled them for spectators as well.

“I only wanted to keep a certain special guest a surprise,” your mother explained, recapturing your attention. “The organizers here at Aintree asked him to make an appearance, now that he’s freshly arrived from the port of South Africa. His service in the Royal Army is finally complete. Look—the jockey in crimson is....”

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

Adam Kingston.

The next bloody Earl of Kingston. An Earl who hailed from a peerage spanning back to 1463 when King Edward VI ennobled a knight as a reward for valiance during the Battle of Mortimer’s Cross. Apparently, every man in the Kingston family served in the British military to honor their knightley roots.

Clearly, Ciel was not, in fact, competing with the race itself for Lady Y/n’s attention. He was competing with Lord Adam Kingston, the myth of a man whom Ciel was convinced, until this convenient moment, had no ties to the Richmond Earldom. And now, by the shock painted on Lady Y/n’s face and the excitement in her mother’s expression, there was indeed a concerning degree of relevance.

And all Ciel could do was exhale, his jaw clenching at the sight of Adam as he practiced on his canting horse. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wracking his mind for a transition. A means to change the subject from Adam to, well, virtually anything else.

How could he miss this? The Grand National never typically allowed for guest jockeys, and he should have factored in any potential obstacle. Potential, at that.

Adam far from an obstacle—biceps for brains at best, hailing from a line of unintellectual brutes. How could that compare to the Phantomhive’s servitude as the Queen’s Guard Dog? Her Majesty’s personal private investigators? It couldn’t.

The Y/l/n family, the custodians of the Richmond line, required a businessman. There was no assessing a bloody profit margin through brute force. It took class, prowess, skill that went beyond following a general’s orders and shooting straight.

“He recently received a Victoria Cross for his service to Her Majesty. Just as his father and grandfather did before him— she must adore that family,” Lady Y/l/n explained proudly, as if Adam were her own son. As if she wished for Adam to become her son-in-law, though of course, the Countess was socially aware enough not to explicitly say so. Not with Ciel present, at least.

Surely if Ciel could understand the intent behind her words, as did Y/n, who flushed. Her perceptive gaze trained on Adam. She twisted a ring on her finger, a circular yellow diamond surrounded by smaller white diamonds. They were cut into circles as well, resembling petals of a flower, a nod to the weather.

“That is lovely to hear,” the noblewoman answered absently, her smile small and appeasing. Not at all genuine, now that their exchange about Machiavelli revealed Y/n Y/l/n’s real smile to Ciel. Or at least, something closer to it. She cleared her throat, eyes flitting between her mother, the racecourse, and Ciel with uncertainty. “Though I doubt he will win today. Look at his horse—it’s quite large. He might overheat in this weather and slow down during the final few laps.”

The Countess merely sighed, returning her daughter’s smile. “You can take the wagering away from the lady, but never the lady from her wagering.”

Y/N Y/L/N

“Mama,” you complained again, releasing your ring to fan yourself. Lord Phantomhive had only been sitting with you for a few moments and your mother already managed to mortify you twice. First by shocking you with Lord Kingston, and now, insinuating that your intellect was unladylike. It was a miracle Lord Phantomhive didn’t stand up and walk away after all of these misgivings. You’d even fallen in front of him during your blood promenade last week! He even had to take the time to tend to your bloody leg of all things.

“All right, all right,” she surrendered, thankfully turning her attention to your father.

“I apologize for her,” you said, flattening the skirts of your light yellow gown.

“I only hope to learn from you if you’re such a master of wagering,” Lord Phantomhive replied lightly, both validating a skill you felt self conscious of and your overeager mother’s whims. “I’ve merely participated in the odd game of billiards and chess—never horse racing. If not the Earl of Kingston, who do you favor to win?”

“It’s hard to say without the full information,” you admitted, finally managing to tear your gaze away from Adam Kingston. You knew him—surely most of the aristocracy did—given his family line’s proximity to the Crown and overall significance to the noble class. As children, you spent time together, you were innocent playmates who were too little to understand the necessity of polite functions. You’d share toys and books wordlessly on the floor until you were old enough to accompany your parents during rounds of polite chatter. You had fleeting feelings as a young girl, but of course, what girl your age didn’t have a juvenile crush on Adam at some point?

There had been murmurings of an engagement between the two of you, but nothing had ever come of it. You heard of his achievements abroad—in fact, you dimly remembered hearing that he was an accomplished equestrian, now that he was in the front of your mind.

Lord Kingston studied in universities abroad before his five-year enlistment in the British Army. The last time you saw him physically, he stood at half his height. His face was clean of facial hair—stubble shadowed his jawline, from what you could see. His eyes were still the same light green, his red skull cap concealed most of his unruly blond hair. When you were children, other noble daughters around you squealed for him. There were plenty of tears when he departed for Germany—most from disappointed mothers and daughters hoping to secure an arranged marriage.

Your mother had certainly been among the disappointed, but at the time of his departure, all you could recall was the lessons in shares and stock holding your father was guiding you through.

“If I had to pick a favorite, I might choose—” you started to say, only for a familiar fanfare to interrupt you. Your guess would have been on Sharpshooter and his jockey in blue, Oliver Dean, but you supposed it didn’t matter. Your father clearly handled the betting for this race, given that your mother forcibly put you out of commission.

You pursed your lips, frustrated at your inability to finish your thought. This was why you liked to attend the Grand National early, but now you understood why your mother saw to your tardiness.

”Ladies and gentlemen, we at the Aintree Racecourse wish to thank you for attending our 67th Annual Grand National Horse Racing Event,” the announcer started, thanking the event’s donors and vendors. He introduced each jockey and their horse, mentioning their sponsors (if applicable) and their odds to win as they trotted to the starting line.

Before the announcer could introduce Lord Kingston, he had to wait for the public’s energy to calm. Everyone, from the clapping nobles on the terrace to the rowdy commoners cheering in the stands, showed warm sentiments for the former soldier. It seemed that each attendee, save for you, was aware of the last minute addition to the race.

“Now, if he hadn’t been standing right before me, I wouldn’t believe it myself, but today we have Lord Adam Kingston joining our skilled jockeys this auspicious afternoon! He rides for the Crimea and Indian Mutiny Veterans’ Association, a charitable group that aids our brave veterans in need! Do give the man and his 2:1 odds a gigantic round of applause, Aintree!” The announcer requested of the audience, gesturing for the impassioned spectators to afford the Earl a standing ovation. While most in the stands below you complied, most nobility around you simply clapped demurely.

It would be unwise to ignore 2:1 odds. Statistically, it meant that Lord Kingston had a 33.3% chance of winning among his competitors. He was one of the favorites to win— of course. Years of cultivating his skills as an equestrian, plus years in the military…you suspected his horse was the only factor leaving a shadow of a doubt. That being said, a jockey as skilled as him likely already considered his horse’s stamina.

Lord Phantomhive mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t quite catch it under the racecourse’s excitement and the volume of your own thoughts. He shifted in his seat, sparing a few gruff claps for Lord Kingston. His stormy, pensive, expression melted into passivity the moment he noticed your curious eyes on him.

“I still have another favorite to win,” you insisted, “Oliver Dean and Sharpshooter are 4:1—that is about a 20% likelihood. With only a 13% difference, I believe it is worth considering.” Sharpshooter was much thinner than Lord Kingston’s horse, a lighter color. To you, he seemed less likely to tire after the last few hurdles, though his younger age could cause difficulties with consistency.

“You reckon?” Lord Phantomhive raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the final horse stopped behind the starting line. The race contenders shot off the starting line to a grandiose fanfare and the screams from the stands. The sound of thundering hooves echoed alongside the bustling crowd, each horse moving in frenzied synchrony. They moved so fast that the jockeys couldn’t afford to sit properly on their mounts, instead standing in their stirrups and crouching. Their ride was more aerodynamic that way, you once read.

“Dean would be the more profitable bet. The higher return compensates for the lower probability, correct?” Lord Phantomhive prompted.

“What was that?” Oh—yes. That is correct,” you confirmed haphazardly. Would Lord Kingston prove you wrong? Who did your father choose for the Richmond family’s favorite to win? Was it your responsibility to greet Kingston? Win or lose?

As the odds estimated, Oliver Dean and Lord Kingston were neck in neck. Their horses galloped and jumped together, their riders remaining focused on the course ahead. The first to complete three laps around the racecourse would win—and whether the victor was Adam, an Earl already well-rested on his laurels, and Oliver Dean, a professional equestrian.

You took a drink out of your chilled wine, realizing that you had been digging your teeth into the inside of your lower lip. Finishing it off, you handed the empty class away. You sat forward in your seat, unable to look away or even breathe properly.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

This outing was getting away from him. He could see it in Y/n’s body language, leaning away from him and towards the balcony in front, her fidgeting hands finally still on her lap. The race—or its unlikely addition—completely captured her attention.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability, Ciel reminded himself, his eyebrow furrowing harder by the passing second. His mouth felt dry, parched and begging for a sip of the wine Y/n nursed. He should have accepted one from their maid, but he’d politely declined out of interest in staying as sharp as possible in case the event turned dire.

Now, Ciel wished he’d accepted the drink. If not for the cold on his tongue, for the sweet sympathy of the alcohol. He needed it to smooth out the gathering headache in his temples, caused by a combination of Adam Kingston, the scent of horse muck, the loud and obnoxious presence of the working class, and now, maintaining Y/n’s attention without appearing demanding.

Say something to her, Ciel. Anything. It would be inappropriate to compliment her now, inappropriate to ask about her other interests…unhelpful to ask her about Adam….

Hidden in his crossed arms, the Earl’s hands clenched into fists. He imagined one making painful contact with the side of Adam’s head, knocking him clean out for so much as daring to impede his mission. Ciel had an objective to see through: a wedding band on the heiress’ finger, and a company to head and combine with his existing one. A new Earldom to chief. And this man had the audacity to insert himself into Ciel’s intricate plans like a gust of wind to a house of cards.

The jockeys completed their first round and Adam’s lead was beginning to increase, slowly but certainly.

“For such a large horse, Cozbi seems to be holding his own,” Ciel commented, stealing a look at Y/n. She shook her head, watching Oliver’s slender horse lose ground to Adam and Cozbi. The action caused her long earrings—the yellow diamonds matched the one on her finger—to move. Strands of her hair fell out of its braided bun, causing the diamond flower hair clips in it to come slightly loose.

Out of all of her clothing ensembles, this floral number was the most color and sparkle he’d seen Lady Y/n dawn.

“He is an Andalusian, I think,” Y/n replied, gasping as Sharpshooter and Oliver rushed closer to Adam and Cozbi. “They are known for their stamina. Former battle horses, but…” she mumbled, not finishing the thought. Ciel couldn’t conceal his dry laugh; of course Lady Y/n knew of the benefits and drawbacks of specific racehorse breeds.

The jockeys made it halfway through the second lap side by side, leaving the rest of the competition paces behind them. It was clear that the winner would be determined from the two leaders, and Ciel couldn’t imagine how he could manage Adam winning. Y/n’s mother seemed eager to introduce the two—eager to sabotage his chances to woo her daughter, even if unknowingly. He had to surmise how well Y/n knew Adam, but mentioning the other Earl when he’d just managed to change the subject would only hurt his cause.

“Ah! See? Just as I thought!” Lady Y/n exclaimed, jumping to her feet as Sharpshooter inched before Cozbi. She was referring to her earlier summation: the smaller, younger horse would persist longer than a larger, older horse. “Sharpshooter is a Mustang, they are quite fast and enduring. Perhaps, perhaps… oh no, no, no! Come Sharpshooter, hurry!” Y/n’s palms jumped to the flushed apples of her cheeks, dragging down. Her hands fell back to her sides, each gesture causing her fan to jump. Noble ladies such as she held lithe fans to both keep cool and in more secretive moments, convey messages. During outings such as this, they kept their dans gently tied to their wrists with ribbon.

As quickly as Oliver and Sharpshooter gained their lead, they lost it within the thick back to back hurdles dominating part of the track. While Sharpshooter was smaller and lighter, he was significantly less experienced and sturdy than Cozbi. Where Cozbi lacked in agility, his expertise and relationship with Adam clearly made up for it. The leading horses came thundering over the starting line for a second time, marking the end of the second lap.

One final lap to go.

How could Ciel’s luck be this absurd? Honestly!

“After two attempts at the hurdles, Sharpshooter may have the right of it then,” Ciel suggested, watching as the noblewoman’s competitive spirit seemed to take the better of her. She hardly spared him a look, leaving his comment unaddressed.

“Absolutely not! No! This is unacceptable!” She cried out, jumping up from her chair with enough force to push it back. It was as if the horse’s misgivings were a personal affront to her, her gloved hands tightly holding onto the railing in front of the Richmonds’ reserved row of seats. In standing, Y/n joined most of the spectators in the audience—including that of the aristocracy. Reluctantly, Ciel rose as well, deciding that watching the race progress and Y/n take more interest in it than him were equally frustrating sights to take in.

The situation was truly unacceptable, Ciel agreed. Only, that was for reasons beyond the bloody race.

Still, the Earl had to appreciate the genuine tenacity on the young woman’s face, the emotional investment she put into a silly race. He was rather accustomed to the vacant smile she would aim at the world, himself included. She seemed hard pressed for spontaneity, but liveliness and intrigue seemed to come so naturally to her—a student of diverse hobbies. Ciel never would have guessed that such a privileged young woman would take the time to educate herself so thoroughly. Especially within matters as niche as horse racing…though he supposed she had to. To the Richmond line, this was no silly race—it determined their winnings and therefore, the funding they could provide for a starting cause.

Ciel felt his charity to London was policing the Underworld, serving Her Majesty. And yet, Lord Richmond and TransAtlantica seemed entirely committed to spreading wealth. It was perplexing.

He sighed as Biceps for Brains took the lead, cursing his ineffectual butler for screwing with him.

Y/N Y/L/N

Sweat rolled down your neck as you watched on. At some point, you grabbed your mother’s hand, squeezing it as you bounced on the soles of your heels. You were dimly aware of Lord Phantomhive next to you, clapping but significantly quieter than your rowdy jumping.

Cozbi and Lord Kingston claimed a commanding lead entering the final stretch, the elder horse’s experience and sheer strength enough to defeat Sharpshooter’s size and speed. No wonder Andalusians were used in battle—it seemed Cozbi was unyielding.

As the Earl of Kingston and his horse passed the starting line for the final time, another fanfare erupted from the pit alongside a nearly defeating round of applause. Immediately after, Oliver and Sharpshooter followed, succeeded by the rest of the jockeys. The dust kicked up the horse’s galloping hooves floated around the track and the stands—the terrace was high enough for the air to remain clear around you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have the winner of the 67th Grand National: Lord Adam Kingston and his valiant steed, Cozbi!” The announcer yelled, fixing a dramatic flair to his words. “Thank you to all of our participants, and I thank you lot for being such a dynamic crowd here in Aintree!”

From the track, you watched Lord Kingston pull off his cap, trotting on Cozbi so as to let the horse slowly wind down from the race. He waved to the crowd in the stands, cap in his gesturing hand. His forehead shone with sweat, slightly reddened from the sun. The same light reflected in his pale green eyes, particularly as he looked up to the nobles’ terrace. Searching the lines of waving nobility, his face lifted in recognition to some, but his scouring had yet to cease. He pulled Cozbi to a slow stop, only for an attendant to wave him forward to dismount and accept his trophy on the announcer’s platform.

“I knew Adam would pull through it,” your mother gushed, releasing your hand. “Adam has always been a talented rider, ever since he was a boy. He would participate in those junior league races. Those were quite adorable.”

“It was a fine race,” your father commented wryly, pushing up his glasses. He finished off his drink, handing off the empty glass to an attendant. Like you, he must have betted on Oliver and Sharpshooter. After all, he taught you nearly everything you knew about playing the odds at horse races—you had the same rationale. You both hated to lose.

“I agree,” Lord Phantomhive said noncommittally, tone flat. He uncrossed his arms to accept a flute of champagne from a server. “He was a soldier before this. Surely he is accustomed to riding in much more fraught conditions than a simple race.”

“It begs the question of bias,” your father concurred, only for your mother to send him a sharp look.

Lord Kingston stepped off of Cozbi to join the announcer on his elevated stage, a small wooden platform where the host had spectated from. Oliver and the jockey who won third place followed him, accepting their smaller trophies, the latter made of silver, the former made of bronze. Kingston cradled his treasure in his arms, red silk shirt clinging to his figure, the gold detailing along his long sleeves and the middle of his torso caught the light. His tight trousers were cream colored, sculpting his legs all the same.

“Our sincerest congratulations, my Lord,” the announcer said. He also clipped a small gold metal to the jockey’s shirt, putting the accessory over his heart.

“What do you think of the race, my Lady?” Lord Phantomhive asked you, but you merely hummed, stalling your reply out of curiosity for Lord Kingston. Who was he hoping to spot? A sick, hopeful feeling kept your attention lingering on him. It had been years since you properly saw him, after all. You were childhood acquaintances, he knew that your family attended this event annually. The Kingstons had even accompanied you a number of times.

“Thank you so much,” Lord Kingston answered with a laugh. “I owe it all to Cozbi, honestly. He did all the hard work—I only showed up in hopes to get someone’s attention.” His smile was toothy and eager.

Now you were confident Lord Kingston had been searching to lock eyes with you. His aimed enthusiasm caused several others in the stands and in the press to turn towards you, the source. When you returned the Earl’s wave, he sunk into a respectful bow, trophy still in hand. He held it for a long moment, allowing cameras to catch his reverence.

Your breath quickened at the revelation, but the sinking feeling in your stomach told you that there were about to be dozens of eyes on you, encouraging you to collect yourself. You couldn’t show your anxiety, even if it was clear that Ciel Phantomhive had clearly joined you on this outing for courtship purposes. You had to stand tall and keep your chin up—no matter how much you wanted to sink away.

“Surprise, darling,” your mother giggled unhelpfully, touching your arm.

You painted on your future-Countess-of-Richmond grin, waving back with significantly more enthusiasm than you felt. A startled blush heated your face up.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

Shortly Afterwards

Ciel lacked the proper words to convey his rage, struggling to breathe through his tight chest. His jaw strained from how tightly he clenched it. After managing a terse, at best, goodbye to Lady Y/n and her parents, he promptly left the racecourse. His initial plan was to attempt to secure an invitation back to the Y/l/n estate for a supervised tea, but clearly, that was out of the question now. Instead, he trudged away from the racecourse, and summoned his demon butler. The second his carriage stopped in view, Sebastian stepped out to open the door for Ciel.

“Finny, spare no time. I want to be back to the estate as soon as possible,” Ciel snapped at the gardener—his responsibilities newly expanded to unofficial coachman when Sebastian had other matters to tend to.

“Yes, sir!” Finny replied, saluting Ciel and immediately tightening his grip on the reins.

“What seems to be the issue, my Lord?” Sebastian asked obsequiously, opening the carriage door for Ciel. The demon’s untroubled face only compounded Ciel’s rage, causing him to slap the useless supernatural being across the face. Although he utilized all of his strength, the demon merely looked at him, unaffected. He. Knew. The. Issue. Perfectly. Well.

“Adam Kingston won the race, and you did absolutely nothing to stop it. He confessed that he was here to impress Y/n, and you did nothing to stop it.” Ciel seethed, stepping inside the carriage. “That is the problem here.”

“I received no specific order denoting such an intervention, I apologize, sir,” Sebastian answered, closing and locking the door. He sat on the opposite side of the carriage. “You know I merely follow your instructions—a mere pawn in your games.”

“I want him dead,” Ciel exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. He rubbed his temples, relieved to be rid of the polite mask he wore for the Y/l/n family.

He had to collect his thoughts and restrategize, consider each new factor this event had brought to his attention. Clearly, the Kingston line knew the Richmonds line well enough for Lady Y/l/n to recall Adam in his youth—so much so that she made it a point to attend his bloody junior league races. Now, Ciel had to convince the family that he was the better option over an old family friend. That would take more than logic and objectivity: his greatest strengths. It would require emotion, passion. A near-flawless expression of love. A feeling so foreign to Ciel that it may as well not exist.

“I must question if that is the most sensible solution to the issue he is presenting,” the demon actually had the audacity to chuckle, as if the thought of killing a man for making his courtship public was amusing. Or better yet, that his master’s bloodlust was sensitive enough to apply for such a shallow reason.

“And why should I continue to take advice from you? You couldn’t even warn me about the man appearing today in a timely manner.”

“Are you insinuating you have met your match, sir?”

“Of course not,” Ciel rolled his eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for, Sebastian? I want to know everything there is to know about Adam Kingston, and his ties to Y/n Y/l/n. And find out what the bloody journalists are writing about. I cannot have this handled the wrong way.”

“Absolutely, my Lord. I will have it ready before you return to the estate for supper.”

With that, the demon was gone.

TAGLIST: @theblueslytherin @luckyladylottie @yuzu-ku @zyrixal

[backtothefanfiction]

Not That Easy | Mandalorian x Reader Imagine

Summary: When Din realised he was starting to have feelings for you, he got scared. Snuck away before sunrise and left you stranded on Nevarro. When you catch up to him on Tatooine, you have a few choice words for him.

Length: Short

Warnings: angst!

A/N: just a quick before bed drabble so I can have a nice fantasy to go to bed to. also I never write for Mando like I should and desperately needed an angst outlet. enjoy!

He had been gone for an hour, two tops. Just a quick stop in to the only person he trusted to work on the Razor Crest in these parts. Or so he had thought.

“Hey Peli?” He asked as he stepped back down from the ship towards her office, “How come my hyperspace drive-“ He didn’t get a chance to finish his question. It wasn’t Peli sitting behind the console in the office- it was you. Legs up on the console, the missing part needed to fix his hyperspace drive being used to play catch in your fingertips, as you pretended to ignore him.

“Shit.” You heard him mutter through the modulator in his helmet. You turned to see his gaze drop, head shaking, knowing he’d fucked up. He knew he shouldn’t have left you. He knew that you’d be pissed. But he didn’t realise you would be so pissed that you’d come all the way to Tatooine to wait him out and have it out with him.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” you huffed angrily as you stood, pushing past him and out of the door.

“Y/N- please, just hear me out.” He tried to say as he followed on your heels, but you were having none of it.

At first when you laid eyes on his shiny coat of beskar you had become angry, remembering the hurt of waking up to find him, the kid and the Rasor Crest gone. Not even a note left but a relayed message from Greef Karga of all people. ‘Something came up. He had to run. Wanted you to be safe and take a break.’ What utter Bantha crap.

If you were angry then, you were enraged now. Fed up of his excuses and hiding, you whirled on him, stopping him dead in his tracks. “NO! No more excuses. You- left- me!” You enunciated. “I trusted you- and you left me!” You screamed in his face. “Uhhhgggg!!! If you didn’t have that-stupid- helmet on, I’d really smack you across the face right now.” You settled for shoving him backwards. He rocked slightly, but barely moved. So you pushed at his chest again. And again. And again. Until you were just drumming your fists on his shiny metal chest, getting all of your frustration out, as you huffed and grunted and groaned in frustration.

When you finally ran out of steam, your palms hesitating, resting flat against his breast plate, unable to meet his visor, body heaving with both emotional and physical exhaustion, he tried to wrap his arms around you. To pull you into an embrace. Comfort you the way he had done all those times before he left. Shit, he knew he shouldn’t have left.

As you felt his arms began to tighten around you, your body growing tight. You may be exhausted, but you were still angry. “No.” You said, pushing him away.

When he looked into your eyes, he saw just how much damage he had done. If only you could see his, you would know how much damage you had done to him too.

It was only supposed to be the kid. He made a vow. It had been the only other living thing to really get under his skin. To make him feel… Make him care. But then there came you. The kid was so attached and you were fantastic with him. The way your giggles travelled around the Razor Crest. How could you not melt what was left of his carbonite frozen heart. Soon he found himself offloading things to you he hadn’t told anyone. He would return with wounds and you would patch them up without batting an eyelid. You looked at every place you travelled to together with wonder, and made him see those worlds in completely new ways too. How would that not scare him. Especially when his job was so dangerous. He couldn’t risk it anymore. Couldn’t risk you.

There was a faint coo from the doorway of the Razor Crest, the kid having stirred at the sound of your voice. You both turned your head to look at the kid, who tilted his head with a smile and babble in your direction; and it eased your heart.

Turning back to Mando, you said, “You didn’t think getting rid of me was going to be that easy? Did you?” You asked, as you heard the kid begin to climb down and begin to make his way to you.

“I’m sorry-“ he tried to say, before you cut him off.

“You will be.” You threatened, before turning away from him and back to your little green friend, picking him up from the ground and pulling him into your arms with the biggest smile, “Hello, little one.” You cooed loudly and sweetly- and just from the tone of your voice- Mando knew he wouldn’t be living this one down for a while.

“Hey-“ you quickly said, turning with the kid in your arms, back in his direction- his fingers rubbing at his brow over his helmet. You silently tossed him the part you had dismantled from his ship to stop him from trying to get away again. He quickly caught it, before it could reach the ground. “Put that thing back where it belongs and let’s get out of here.” You commanded. “I’m thinking somewhere nice,” you began to babble to the kid, carrying him back inside, “somewhere with sand- and crystal clear waters,” you say enthusiastically, laying it on thick so Mando can hear, just how you wanted him to make things up to you. You won’t catch-him- trying to run out on you in a hurry again.

[davyjonesblogger]

Stupid Games and Stupid Prizes

A Davy Jones drabble

Requested by: @kyuoki

Note: I apologize for the very long wait, I took a break from writing for a while due to family stuff. But here you go! Hope you like it!

Prompt: #34) “Oh my god! Get off me!”

~~~

Being the only woman onboard the Flying Dutchman was not easy, not at all.

In fact, it has becoming more of a challenge for you more and more everyday. Not only were you the only woman onboard, you were also the only living being. The Dutchman, or rather Davy Jones, had encountered you by chance, you seeing that you were stranded in the middle of the ocean and when he offered you a place onboard, you couldn’t deny it and ultimately agreed.

To say that the crew didn’t take a liking to you would be an understatement. The only one who treated you with decent respect was Bootstrap Bill, the best way to describe it would be they noticed Davy having a soft spot for you and spares you from the harsh punishments and the cruelty within him. The crew onboard looked at you as the enemy for this, they were almost envious of you and had made it their mission to make your life miserable in any way. Everyone but Bootstrap picked on you by coming up from behind, covering your eyes with their hands and would say, “Guess who?”

You were at your task, paying no mind to anyone but yourself.

You were so focused on getting your task done, which was sweeping the deck of the ship, you didn’t hear Davy’s stump as he walked up behind you. It was when Davy cleared his throat you quickly lashed out at him, mistaking him as another crew member wanting to play the stupid games again.

“Oh my god! Get off me!” you scream, turning to face whoever it was before any physical contact could be made.

Seeing it was Davy Jones, your heart leapt in your throat out of fear, fully believing you had just earned yourself a punishment.

“I’m so sorry, captain!” you quickly apologize, though he doesn’t say anything at first.

“Who did you think I was?”

You debated on lying to him, but you know just as well as everyone else that you cannot lie to Davy Jones.

After a moment of thinking of what to say, you let the confession of being disrespected by the crew roll off your tongue. Once you’ve finished telling Davy everything, he was clearly not pleased, and it takes him a moment to say anything back. Hearing what’s been going on this whole time, that you’ve been disrespected infuriated him, and he was going to do something about it.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/n). It’s them who should be sorry. Matter of fact, I think that’s what I’ll go do now.”

You panicked.

You didn’t want any more trouble than what you already had with them.

“Davy, please don’t do this.”

But Davy was already a step ahead of you, now you may have believed he’s ignored your pleas and was about to go do something mad.

However, that’s not what happens when he faces the crew. You couldn’t quite catch on to every word Davy was saying to them, due to the storm that was coming in. But you picked on the last bit and it was enough to help you understand that he in fact did hear you, and understanding the meaning of what’s being said.

“If I hear any more about this going around, then there will be problems. Consider this to be your only warning.” Davy threatens, before turning back to you.

You couldn’t help but smile, as a sigh of relief leaving your lips.

~~~

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 1.9k ❧ warnings: cursing lol, oh they DO have cheesy nicknames for each other (pooks/lovey) so if ur gonna be a hater abandon ship now ❧ genre: exes to lovers, drabble sequel to much mistletoeing about nothing, holiday-themed, getting snowed in trope ❧ author’s note: i had a couple more ideas that didn’t really fit in with much mistletoeing about nothing, so here’s an extra little drabble for these two

You held your phone further away from your ear as your sister kept yelling. “You didn’t tell me that the friend you were shacking up with for the snowstorm was Kun! Y/N, oh my God! Oh my God, Y/N!”

Sat in front of Kun’s fireplace bundled up in his favorite orange hoodie and a mass of blankets, you listened with a lingering smile on your face to your older sister’s ranting to you over your phone about how her Christmas dinner with your extended family went this year. She was filling you in on all of the family drama, and complaining about all the various older family members who kept trying to grab your baby niece from her arms even after she said no.

“Baby boy missed you, by the way,” she added, referencing her eldest. “He was very concerned about why his Aunt Y/N couldn’t be there.”

Before you could respond, Kun called to you from the kitchen, “Lovey? Want some hot chocolate?”

You grimaced as you realized that you hadn’t given him a heads-up that you were on the phone, hoping that your sister hadn’t heard that.

“Is that Kun?!” She practically screeched, nearly blowing out your speakers. You held your phone further away from your ear as she kept going. “You didn’t tell me that the friend you were shacking up with for the snowstorm was Kun! Y/N, oh my God! Oh my God, Y/N!”

Well aware that you had been got, you covered the mic to look over at Kun, who mouthed an ‘oops! sorry!’ to you. You shook your head to let him know you weren’t mad, and held up a finger in a gesture for him to wait on the hot chocolate while you dealt with this.

“Alright, chill out,” you grumbled at your sister. “Yes, I’m staying with Kun right now…”

“Holy shit! How? When? Are you guys like… back together or is this a lonely-on-the-holidays hook-up thing?”

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad anything yet but… we’re trying again.”

“Oh my God!” She squealed. “For real? Since when? How did you—? Tell me everything!”

“Christ, you’re going to burst my eardrums at this rate... I can’t turn the volume down any more without muting you entirely, you know.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really excited for you,” she gushed, and the warmth of her voice spread through your chest. “You were just… always so happy around him. And I know you’ve felt a little… untethered the past few years.”

You nodded in agreement even though she couldn’t see it. “Anyway, it turns out he got a job at the same place I’m doing my research. We ran into each other, and had nothing better to do on Christmas, then this freak snowstorm came, and we got to really talking again.”

“You’ve officially made my year, Y/N!” Her bright, infectious smile was audible through the phone. “Anyway, we’re about to go back to Mom and Dad’s for New Year’s, so I have to go.”

“Promise you won’t tell them?” You asked, warning in your tone. “You’ll let me do it? Once we’ve got things a bit more figured out.”

“Fine, fine, I promise! You know I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“Uh-huh. Tell everybody Happy New Year from me, okay?”

“Will do! Happy New Year, Y/N!” She then added even louder, “Happy New Year, Kun!”

“You’re not on speakerphone, dumbass.”

“Oh, boo. Tell him Happy New Year for me, please?”

“Fine, I will,” you sighed. “Happy New Year. Love you, bye.”

“Bye, love you!”

And with that, you hung up. Getting onto your feet, you shuffled into the kitchen where Kun had two steaming mugs on the counter. He offered one out to you, and you took it gratefully. He dropped a couple of marshmallows in the hot chocolate for you.

“Thanks, pooks.” You blew over the surface. “She says Happy New Year, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s okay, Kun,” you reassured him. “I didn’t tell you I was on the phone. And you know how she is, she would’ve sleuthed it out eventually by triangulating my signal or something if I hadn’t told her.”

“I haven’t told my family yet either,” he said, then took a sip of his hot chocolate. “I thought it was best that the two of us just sort of… figured everything out first, before inviting in any bothers.”

“And my bothers you mean brothers.”

“That, too.”

You chuckled, taking your first sip of cocoa. “Mm, that’s good. Peppermint?”

“Yeah, Dr. Oh gave us all these gourmet hot chocolate bomb things for Christmas,” he explained, holding his mug out towards you. “Mine’s gingerbread.”

“Ooh.” You swapped mugs to try some of the other’s. “That one’s really good too. I think I like mine better, though.”

“Yeah, mine’s maybe a bit over-the-top on the spices?” He mused, exchanging cups once more.

“I miss your brothers,” you admitted quietly, settling back against the kitchen counter. “They were always so much fun.”

Kun scooted over to loosely loop an arm around your waist, and you leaned against him affectionately. “They miss you too. With Chenle graduating in the spring, he wanted to start brainstorming for his graduation party when I went and visited for Dejun’s birthday. We were looking at pictures from Dejun’s party for some inspiration—he of course needs his to be even better, you know.”

“Oh, of course,” you snickered fondly, already able to imagine it. Chenle was the baby of the family, and he had no shame in using that position to his advantage.

“You were in so many of the photos. And Chenle just kind of got really quiet…”

“That’s not like him.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed solemnly. “He didn’t say anything, I know for my sake, but I think he was having a hard time imagining his graduation without you.”

“Maybe he just felt awkward looking at a bunch of pictures with you that had your ex in them.”

“We were together for five years, Y/N. You made as much of an impact on their lives as mine. You used to help Chenle with all those school projects, and picked him up from school…”

You felt a lump growing in your throat as you sniffled and nodded. “Remember when he ran away from home to our apartment?”

“Yeah, you managed to convince my mom to let him stay with us for a few days— which only worked because she adored you so much, by the way. He was glued to your side the whole time.”

“He just needed a break. Poor kid was so stressed.”

Kun rubbed your back. “You were always so good with him.”

You took another pensive drink of your cocoa. “Do you think… we’ll be okay this time?”

“I have to think so.” He pressed a kiss to your temple absentmindedly. “Do you think we’ll be okay this time?”

“Yeah.” You set your mug down to turn around and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He immediately enveloped you in his arms, holding you closely. Your chest twinged at the familiarity. “I think we’ve got it this time.”

“What time do you think it is?” You murmured, hand clasped in Kun’s and head resting on his shoulder as the two of you slowly swayed together in his living room. What had started out as goofy, lighthearted dancing to some of his vinyls had turned into slow-dancing as the album playing right now was more melancholic and heartfelt.

Kun lifted up his watch so both of you could see it. 11:59 p.m. “Almost there…”

Both of you were silent as you watched the seconds count up on the watch face.

12:00 a.m.

“Happy New Year’s, pooks.” You lifted your head up to look him in the eye, a wide grin on your face. "And Happy Birthday."

"Best birthday present I could ask for." He cupped your cheek tenderly, smiling right back at you. “Happy New Year, lovey.”

You brushed his hair from his face before surging forward to close the space between you. Kun was still smiling into the kiss, running a gentle thumb over your cheekbone. At the sound of a phone ringing, he broke away with a groan.

“That’ll be my family,” he sighed, stealing another kiss from you. “I should get that.”

You made the motion of zipping your lips and throwing away the key, and he dropped one last peck to the corner of your mouth before begrudgingly letting you go and walking over to where his phone was buzzing and ringing from the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom! Happy New Year!” He greeted his mother enthusiastically. “Happy New Year, Dad! Yeah, Chenle, I heard you, I was getting to you—Oh my god, Dejun, yes, Happy New Year to you too!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your mouth as you quietly tiptoed over to pick up your empty hot cocoa mugs and start putting them in the sink.

“Oh, lovey, you don’t have to—” Kun was pointing his phone mic away from him as he addressed you, but that obviously did nothing to conceal his words from his entire family on the other end of the line. You heard the familiar catastrophic yells of his little brothers, fully bursting into laughter as Kun’s eyes went wide with realization at what he’d just done. The sounds of your name rang through the speakers clearly, and he mouthed another apology at you.

“It’s fine, pooks,” you chuckled at a normal volume, letting yourself be heard.

Kun winced as he lifted his phone back up to his ear. “Yes, I’m with Y/N right now… No, no, I’m not handing the phone to her. Chenle, I can hear you pouting, stop that. It’s not going to make me—”

You held your hand out to him expectantly.

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to indulge these little demons,” he hissed the last part into the phone, then turned panicked. “No! Of course, I didn’t mean you, Mom, I meant Dejun and Chenle!”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him with another chuckle, motioning for him to hand the device over. Once you had his phone, you put it on speakerphone, sidling up next to him as you greeted his family. “Happy New Year’s, everyone!”

The two boys on the other end erupted into cheers of your name and general yelling in the background, while their mother actually addressed you. “Happy New Year, Y/N. It’s great to hear from you again, sweetheart.”

“It’s really nice to talk to you all again, too,” you told her honestly, as Kun wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N!” Chenle cut in. “It’s really you?!”

“Yes, LeLe, it’s really me,” you chuckled. “I heard you’re graduating soon, big kid! Congrats.”

“Does this mean you two are back together?!” Dejun was much closer to the phone now.

Kun shook his head at his brother’s words. “Stop it. Y/N doesn’t have to answer that.”

“Oh, something like that,” you answered Dejun anyway with a mischievous, giddy grin.

As the younger sons erupted into celebratory yells in the distance again, you were left to speak only with his parents.

“That’s lovely to hear,” his mother said sweetly.

“Are you well, Y/N?” His dad asked.

After chatting with Kun’s family for a few more minutes, you and Kun gave them your goodbyes before hanging up. You had a lingering smile on your face as you looked over at Kun, cradling his face with both your hands. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as you just continued looking at him.

“Something on my face?”

“Just looking,” you answered simply. “I’m… really happy right now, Kun.”

That made him smile, too, and he looked down at the floor for a moment before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “I’m really happy right now, too, Y/N.”

He leaned in to slot his mouth with yours again, and you hummed delightedly into the kiss.

“Seems like it came true, then.”

It was your turn to regard him with confusion. “What do you mean, pooks?”

“We are having a Happy New Year.”

You let out a couple of incredulous laughs, planting kisses on his dimples between each one. “You sap. My sap.”

“I hope that snowstorm never gets cleared,” he declared, kissing you again.

⤷ 2023 hallmark movie marathon | blog masterlist

[darthkote]

Star Wars Fanfiction Request Guidelines | OPEN

Hi! I wanna try to write more each day, even if it's just small blurbs or pairing I might not typically write or think about (: I still reserve the right to say no, of course, but to make it easier, I wanted to compile a list of what I won't write/am willing to write. My ao3 -> darthkote

Below are the guidelines to help you craft a prompt that aligns with my writing preferences.

Minors DNI.

Content I Am Willing to Write

Stories rated GA to E.

Pairings of any gender or sexual identity. If you would like narrator/characters to use varying pronouns than those used in Canon, mention it!

Violence, gore, smut, where appropriate for the plot/prompt.

AUs grounded in realism within Star Wars Canon or Legends.

Canon compliant stories (I'll do my best to stay away from fanon if you so wish!)

Clone-shipping

Hurt/Comfort, angst, whump.

Polycules. Platonic, romantic, etc.

X reader. Won't use "y/n"

Content I Will Not Write

Underage characters in sexual situations.

Modern AU. Just not into it, I'm sorry.

Basically, feel free to request anything that falls into these guidelines. If something not listed makes me uncomfortable or disinterests me, I will address it directly as it arises.

Critical Details for Prompts

When submitting your prompt, consider the following elements to help guide the story:

1. Core Concept

What is the central idea or “what if” scenario?

2. Characters

Which characters are the focus?

Are there specific relationships to explore (e.g., romantic, platonic, familial)?

Any characters you’d like excluded?

3. Setting and Timeline

Where does the story take place (e.g., a specific planet, ship, or environment)?

When does it occur in the Star Wars timeline?

Note: I haven’t fully explored the Imperial Era or beyond yet. As I watch more, I will remove this note to reflect that! I have finished TBB and have not moved forward. I am progressing in timeline order in my own time. + Have watched the og trilogy.

4. Tone and Themes

What kind of tone should the story have (e.g., lighthearted, angsty, hopeful)?

Are there specific themes (e.g., redemption, survival, found family) to explore?

Click here for SFW and here for NSFW.

5. Plot Details

Are there key events or plot points you'd like included?

Should the story be action-heavy, dialogue-driven, or a balance of both?

6. Relationships

Specify the type of relationship dynamics (e.g., slow burn romance, mentor-apprentice, camaraderie).

Include whether relationships are romantic, platonic, or unrequited, etc.

7. Style and Structure

Do you have a preferred POV (e.g., first-person, third-person limited)?

Length preference (e.g., short drabble, one-shot, multi-chapter epic)?

8. Canon and AUs

Should the story adhere to Star Wars Canon or Legends, or can it diverge?

If AU, how far does it deviate?

9. Visuals and Atmosphere

Do you have specific imagery or sensory details in mind?

Example: “A dreamlike sequence during Obi-Wan’s meditation.”

10. Dialogue or Scenes

Any specific dialogue or moments to include?

Example: “Have Cody reflect on his scars during a quiet moment.”

11. Avoidances and Triggers

Are there topics, elements, or scenarios you’d like avoided?

12. Inspirations

Share any inspirations: quotes, songs, other fanfics, or Star Wars media.

13. Ending

Specify what type of ending you envision (e.g., happy, tragic, open-ended).

Note:

These are just guidelines—you don’t need to include every single detail when making a request. However, please keep in mind my personal boundaries.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I was watching One Piece & came up with this. Please enjoy! -Jazz

Warnings: Reader is mentioned as having thick thighs and ass w/ brown labia

**********

LUFFY 

This man is downright confused. 

He doesn't even realize that you did this on purpose to get him riled up. Luffy was never the one to successfully be seduced though. You could stand naked in front of him and tell him to fuck you, and he’d still wouldn’t get it. When the man gets horny, it’s at the most random of times, like when you’re sunbathing with Name or reading a book. 

You figured you’d at least give it a shot though. It starts when you two are lounging in your bed in the girls’ cabins across the ship, chomping on some watermelon and honeydew as an afternoon snack. With your feet in his lap, you go to pluck the last piece of watermelon out of the bowl between you, but his whine of protest stops you. “What, Luffy?” you sigh. 

Luffy stares at you with big, pitiful eyes, begging you not to eat it. You do your best to keep your eyes on his instead of his toned upper torso and X-shaped scar that peaks beneath the flaps of his red vest. “Pleeeease, Y/N?” he whines. “It’s so good! I didn’t even eat that much!” 

You scoff, wondering if he’s serious. “Luffy, boy, you almost ate the entire bowl!” you argue. “I had to slap you on the head to stop you from eating everything!” You go to pop the watermelon into your mouth, but Luffy’s arm extending and slithering across the bed toward you stops you. 

“No, Luffy!” you protest, but you’re cut off with laughter as he begins tickling your side. The captain laughs at your torture, tickling you senselessly until you drop the watermelon on the ground.

By now, he isn’t paying attention to it though. He jumps on top of you, his fingers moving furiously across your sides and stomach much to your dismay. “L-Luffy, stop!” you gasp. “I-I can’t…b-breathe!” 

“Huh?” he teasingly asks. “Sorry, Y/N, but I can’t hear you over the sound of your laughter!” His hands then move down to tickle your legs, but he doesn’t count on accidentally flipping your sundress up to reveal your bare pussy to him. 

His fingers pause as he stares in confusion down below your stomach. You begin to grow hot with embarrassment, realizing what has happened, but also hopeful that this lighthearted moment shifts. For a minute, Luffy is completely silent and you can see the gears turning in that head. “Uh…Y/N?” he innocently questions. “Why aren't you wearing any underwear?” 

The room suddenly grows hot and heavy as you lay there on your back with your boyfriend staring down at your pussy. “Um,” you hum, “w-well–“ 

“Did you lose ‘em in the laundry room?” he interjects. “Did they end up in the sea? Why didn't you tell me? I would’ve gotten 'em for you!” 

“No, Luffy–“ 

“Or did you take ‘em off ‘cause it’s so hot today? Doesn’t that feel kinda weird? Or does it make you feel cool? Maybe I should try that too ‘cause sometimes I get–“ 

“Luffy!” you exclaim, stopping him short. “I didn’t take them off ‘cause of any of that.” He stares blankly at you, waiting for you to continue to explain the method to your madness. You clear your throat, feeling more embarrassed because of his cluelessness. “I did it to seduce you,” you softly reply.

Again, he just blinks at you. “You know,” you sigh, knowing damn well he doesn’t. “You have easy access to me now for…you know…play with me.” 

Then, finally, a lightbulb flickers in Luffy’s eyes. “Oh!” he giggles, realizing what you mean. “You mean for sex? I can fuck you without worrying about your panties now?” He practically yells this shit, by the way, which means anyone on the ship definitely heard. 

You facepalm yourself, groaning. “This was a bad idea,” you lament. Luffy is suddenly moving to hike your thighs over his shoulders, his entire demeanor changed. You squeak in surprise as he looks up at you from between your legs, a mischievous yet sexy look in his eyes. “You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” he hums. “All you had to do was tell your captain so.” 

When he finally eats your pussy and fucks you into the mattress for nearly an hour until you have four orgasms, leaving your body twitching and your pussy filled to the brim with his cum, you realize that maybe you should go without undies more often. 

ZORO 

To say he isn’t pleased isn’t enough to describe what Zoro is feeling. 

He knew something was off when he saw your asscheeks jumping a little too much when you walked around the ship today. He noticed immediately when you went into the kitchen to help Sanji with breakfast to which he eyed the blonde down for staring at you in your pretty little sundress. 

But then you bent over the counter a little too far, luckily without Sanji watching, to reach for a glass for your iced coffee. There, he saw it: a sliver of those bare cheeks that he dreams about smacking and lays on as pillows just because they’re so plump and pillowy soft. As the hem of your dress rose over your thighs, his eyes widened at your ass and the crevice of your thighs where your bare pussy lied in wait for him. 

When you finally got your glass, you peeked over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting his. And then you laughed. You laughed. It was small, light, and sexy, but just as wicked. Zoro gripped his fork so tight that he nearly snapped it. ‘Oh, this little brat,’ he thought. You were gonna get it later. 

So when he finds you reading a book and lounging in the sun moments later while the crew is doing their own thing, he wastes no time discussing these important matters with you. He stands in front of your view of the sun, becoming a big, hunky eclipse. You stare up at him from behind your sunglasses. “Yes?” you ask innocently as if you’re not wearing panties under your dress right now. 

“You wanna tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” he asks, his voice barely above a growl. You stare up at him, confused. “Uh...reading and sunbathing?” you suggest as an answer. You offer your book to him, showing him. 

You don’t expect him to pluck the book from your hand and toss it to the side. “Not that,” he impatiently replies. “I mean the fact that you’re goin’ commando today.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Zo,” you lightly laugh. But he sees the playfulness in your smile. You’re trying to tease him to get what you want. 

Lucky for you, he’s on your type of time today and is more than happy to give it to you. 

That’s when you find yourself in his room, bent over his bed and his thick cock stuffed deep in your wet pussy that he is quickly turning into a gushy mess with how fast and hard he is fucking you. With every slap of his balls against your clit, his hands grip your hips and your voice rings out in moans against his bedroom walls. “Z-Zoro!” you whine, your face in his pillow. “Slow down or I’m gonna cum too quick!” 

He feels you squirming about, but holds you firmly by your hips, even giving you a sharp spank on your jiggly ass. “Nah, baby,” he hoarsely says. “Stop runnin’ from me. You begged for this shit, and now you’re gonna take it, you little brat.” 

He leans over to press a chaste kiss to your ear, making you pitifully whine into his pillow as your ass bounces off of his cock. “I’m curious though,” he whispers. What made you suddenly decide to flash your pussy for all of our crew members today, huh?” His hand moves to roughly grip your ass, toying with the soft flesh. “I know you know I noticed,” he growls. “What, you want Sanji and Brooke to get an eyeful of what’s mine, huh?” 

With no answer, he spanks you again, drawing a whine out of you. “Huh?” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of his bedroom walls. 

“No!” you sob, gripping the sheets beneath you. “No, Zorro, I promise I’m yours! I-I just wanted to tease you! I’m sorry!” The rest of your words turn into whines and sobs of pleasure as he continues to fuck you sore, plunging his cock deep into your pussy until you’re screaming for release. 

Guess you got what you wanted, right? 

SANJI 

Sanji is BIG HORNY. Don't even try to play with him like that. 

It is just a simple morning that turns into something else entirely when you wake at the crack of dawn to find your bed empty. The spot where your boyfriend once was laying is still warm, meaning he hasn’t been away all that long. 

You get up and put on an halter aquamarine-blue dress that is shows off the curve of your back and stops at the tops of your thighs, giving just a little peek of the bottom of your ass. It’s one of Sanji’s favorites. Anytime you wear it, he either has a major nosebleed or gives you a blush-worthy compliment and then has a major nosebleed. It also gives him the perfect access to your panties…only this time, you leave them in your drawer. 

With a smirk playing on your lips, you walk out of the girls’ cabin to the ship’s kitchen where you find your man and the crew’s chef cooking up some breakfast. He hums a tune as a cigarette dangles from his lips as his hands multitask between cracking an egg with one hand and flipping over some bacon in a pan with the other. Sanji has always been great with his hands. You should know––he’s used them on you many, many times. 

You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his toned body. “Good morning,” you softly say, ruining his concentration in the best possible way. He looks over his shoulder, smiling down at you. “Good morning, my love,” he coos, taking his cig out to press a kiss to your forehead. “Did I wake you, baby?” 

You lean against the counter, admiring his biceps, veiny hands, and his toned body beneath his apron and wrinkled shirt that he hastily tossed on earlier. You want him. Now. “You know I can’t sleep without you near me,” you reply, your voice airy and soft. 

Sanji doesn’t quite catch on to your tone, but presses a hand to his heart, touched at your sweetness. "Aren't you just the sweetest thing ever?” he tuts. “Well, I’ll make sure to make up for leaving your bed with an amazing breakfast from yours truly! Here, pass me the blueberries so I can make this pancake batter.” 

You turn around, looking at the carton of blueberries. “These here?” you ask. 

“Yeah, right–“ Sanji’s sentence takes an abrupt pause when you suddenly lean over the counter next to him to get the blueberries. As you do, your dress rides up, giving him an eyeful of your luscious, bare ass. You smirk at his silence, realizing that your plan to seduce him worked…as usual. It doesn’t take much to make Sanji incredibly horny. You could simply smile at him and he’s ready to eat your pussy for days. 

You turn around to face him, your dress dropping back down against your hips. “Here you go, honey,” you coo, passing him the carton. He takes it from you, eyes wide and mouth parted, his cigarette falling to the floor at his feet. You giggle, teasingly toying with the hem of your dress. “What’s the matter, honey?” you tease. “You like this?” 

Sanji’s eyes follow your hands and the hem of your dress that continues to lift up, showing him a little of your skin each time. “Uh-huh,” he dumbly answers. 

“You know, we’ve got some time until the others wake up,” you purr. “And you’ve got easier access now.” You lift your dress up the rest of the way, revealing your naked pussy to him. “Wanna take advantage?” you ask, a sexy glint in your eye. 

You swear that Sanji has never had a more violent nosebleed. That shit gushes everywhere, but luckily not on the food or on you. It drips all over his clothes, his pretty apron, and the floor below, making you squeak in shock as you jump onto a chair to avoid getting wet. When poor Luffy and Usopp enter the kitchen seconds later, they slip and slide all over the blood, knocking into each other and falling out on the floor. 

It’s hilariously embarrassing on Sanji’s part, especially when you help him mop up the floor. But you think it’s flattering that your boyfriend finds you so attractive. 

He shows you just how much hours later when the crew is eating breakfast in the other room while he has you bent over the counter and his cock stroking the walls of your pussy, nice and slow. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he groans, your soft moans filling the kitchen. “I don’t deserve you. You know that, right?” 

The only answer you can give him is clenching around his thick, curved cock and creaming all over it minutes later. 

USOPP 

Usopp is truly a special case.

You think you just about killed him when he realizes you’re completely naked under your skirt. 

You’re just fooling around in his tinkering room under the ship’s floors, dancing to his playlist that he has set specifically for his tinkering and inventing process. You twirl around in your flowery mini skirt and white crop top while your man crouches over a table, focusing on working a gear into some new contraption he’s working on. 

You hear him sigh from his post, exhaustedly so. “Y/N?” he asks. You twirl towards him, your eyes trailing along his back muscles flexing under his white white beater and brown skin tanned even more from the sun. “Hm?" you hum, still swaying to the music. 

“If you’re not gonna help me, what are you doing down here?” he asks, but not unkindly. Kind of in that way where you’re fed up with your lover’s antics, but you secretly love them. “Just to dance to my music?” 

“It’s not my fault you’ve got excellent music taste,” you giggle, moving towards him. You wrap his arms around him from the back, pressing a kiss to his broad shoulder. “C’mon, dance with me.” He groans in protest, his hands covering yours. “You know I don’t dance, sweetheart, especially when I’m in my zone.” 

You cluck your tongue indifferently. “You’ve been in your zone for hours now!” you argue. “Just to one song.” You begin to sway, forcing him to sway with you. You lay your hands flat against the hard planes of his chest, feeling his heart beating against your fingertips.

“Pwease?” you plea, making your voice soft and high-pitched. Usopp once again groans, but sways with you anyway, moving away from the table to turn his entire attention on you. You release him, allowing him to turn around and face you, a smile playing on his pink lips that you just love to kiss. 

You take his hands into yours and begin moving your feet anywhere the beat takes you, leading him towards you and back again. He begins to laugh along with you, moving his feet in his boots and his legs in those baggy, yellow overalls that you’re itching to get off. There’s just something about him being down here, so completely in his element with his skin glinting in sweat and motor oil streaks on his face. 

He surprises you by suddenly taking your hand and twirling you around, making your skirt billow around you. You giggle as you spin and come to a halt with your back to his front. You lean your head back into his chest, humming appreciatively at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands gliding down your sides to your hips and accidentally slipping under your skirt. “Oh, sorry!” he gasps. "Your skirt was still up and…” His sentence takes a pause, making you smile. 

“Everything okay, Usie?” you ask, using the pet name you gave him on him. You turn around to face him, finding him gaping down at your skirt. “Uh,” he breathes. “W-Wha…why…why aren’t you…underwear?” 

You nearly laugh at his stutters and gobsmacked expression. “You like it?” you giggle, toying with your skirt. “I figured it’d get you away from your tinkering for a minute.” 

You lift your skirt up, revealing your bare pussy and tan lines from the sun to him. His brown eyes nearly bug out of his skull at the erotic sight. The man is totally frozen, barely moving a muscle…except for the one down under which has begun to make its appearance, protruding from beneath his pants. 

“So you wanna take a break with me, Usie?” you purr, smirking up at him. You press a hand to his chest to feel him up, but as you do, Usopp teeters backwards and falls flat onto his back. “Usopp?!” you shriek, alarmed. You crouch down beside him immediately, checking for any damage. “Are you alright?” 

Usopp stares up at you, his eyes wide like he just saw the entire Grand Blue beneath your skirt. “Y-Yes,” he croaks out. “To the break, not if I’m alright.” You sigh in relief, shaking your head at your idiot boyfriend. 

But he makes up for it by fucking you silly against his tinkering table minutes later and making you cum all over his thick cock. 

SHANKS 

“You wanna get fucked?” 

That’s the question Shanks asks you when his hand slides a little too far down your backside and finds that your skin is completely smooth. Too smooth. Usually, he’d feel the rough edges of your lace panties or a thong if you’re feeling frisky. But tonight, there is nothing. 

He should’ve known something was up. When he was walking behind you tonight to go to the bar with the crew. Your ass was jumping way too much! Not that he minded because his crew and every other male in here knew better than to look at you in such a way, but he couldn’t pop a hard-on in front of his crew mates. It was quite embarrassing. 

And now you have the gall to act like you have no idea what he’s talking about. “What, boy?” you snort, shoving at his chest. “C’mon, we’re not even back at the ship or at a hotel.” 

You go to scoot over, but the booth you're sitting in only allows you to go so far. Shanks is sitting with you thigh to thigh, hip to hip, with one arm slung around the back of the booth. Something about being protective of you. Though you like it, him being so close is starting to make you hot combined with the alcohol traveling through your body. 

Like clockwork, Shanks follows you, scooting even closer to you and not allowing you any kind of personal space. You can see that he is tipsy, his cheeks and ears flushed pink and a hooded look in his eyes. “Shit, baby,” he chuckles, “all you had to do was say that. We can leave right now and go to a bed ’n breakfast right down the way.” His hand moves from your back to your knee, squeezing it. “You didn’t have to go commando tonight, though I appreciate the gesture.” 

His hand begins to scoot up to your thigh, squeezing the thick, juicy flesh there. You can feel your body temperature rising as his hand gets dangerously close to your pussy as he sneaks it underneath your skirt. “So what made you wanna lose the panties tonight, baby doll?” he whispers, his lips at your ear. He smells of whiskey and mint gum––a combo you have come to love. 

The sound of a bottle shattering and a roar of laughter makes you realize that you’re still in public. “S-Shanks,” you stutter, gulping. You go to move his hand, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Uh-uh, baby,” he tuts. “Can’t decide you don’t want it now. You’re the one who came off the ship without your undies.” Your breath hitches as he releases your hand and goes back to scoot his up your skirt until his fingers begin sneaking between your thick thighs. “Tell me, baby doll: what was your plan tonight? To make me so hard that I bend you over this table and fuck you in front of all of the nice folks at this bar?” 

His naughty question and raspy voice in your ear makes you pathetically whimper. You then feel his fingers begin to play with your pussy lips, making you bite your lip. His other hand moves to the back of your neck to tug lightly on your hair, drawing a moan out of you. “I need an answer,” he growls. “Or I’ll make you cum right here. Don’t try me.” 

Through quivering lips and hitched breaths, you answer him. “N-No,” you whimper. “I just felt sexy tonight and I wanted to tease you.” You have to clench your teeth to avoid moaning as he begins to play with your clit, coaxing your legs open a bit to watch his fingers toy with the brown hood. 

“Well, little lady,” he chuckles, “consider me teased.” He leans in and presses a rough, whiskey-soaked kiss to your quivering lips before pulling away. “So now let me give you what you’re after.” 

That’s how you find yourself up against the wall of a bathroom stall in the bar with Shanks’ hips furiously thrusting as he pounds his cock deep into your needy, wet pussy, giving you no choice but to clench around him. Your legs are wrapped around him, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other is running through his red hair, your moans ringing out above the bar’s ruckus. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he huffs into your ear. “You wanted to be my little slut tonight?” He fucks you harder, faster, getting you both closer and closer to your explosive orgasm of the night. “Cum for me,” he demands. “Be a good girl and cum around your captain’s cock, baby doll.” 

And you do. You don’t have a choice but to do so. And when he finally cums deep inside of you, he makes sure you give you enough so it’s dripping down your thighs when you walk out of the bathroom minutes later, Shanks laughing while you’re an embarrassed, fucked-out mess. 

ACE

“Girl, don’t play with me,” he firmly says. “I mean it.” 

You blink at him, confused for a moment. all you're doing is sitting cross-legged next to him, sipping on your cocktail, looking cute and absolutely scrumptious in your yellow mini-dress that brings out the color of your skin and the deep brown of your eyes. Ace has been telling you that you look like the prettiest sun he's ever seen ever since you stepped out to join him at the club. 

“What?” you ask. “All I’m doing is sitting here.” Ace eyes you from beneath his hat, his eyes trailing down to your thighs. “Yeah, without somethin’ underneath,” he replies. Your heartbeat jumps when you realize he’s caught on. “What?” he chuckles. “You think I wouldn’t notice when I can see that ass?” 

And he can. From his angle, he has a clear view of your bottom cheeks as you sit with your legs crossed. “Maybe I was just hot,” you argue, holding back a playful smile. “There has been a heatwave for a couple of days. Plus, it makes me cooler.” 

“Cooler, hm?” Ace scoots closer to you, his hand sliding up your bare thigh. “Don’t get too cool now, darlin’,” he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down your spine. “I need you hot and bothered for this next part.” 

That’s when his hand begins to slide between your thighs, coaxing them open to reveal a sliver of your shaved, bare pussy to him. “Fuck,” he hisses, ogling at your sex. His reaction makes you flush, the idea of doing something so naughty in such a public place enticing you so. “So now what?” you purr. “You just gonna stare at it? As flattered as I am, I– oh, fuck!” 

A gasp escapes you as you feel your boyfriend’s fingers begin to toy with your pussy, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Right there in the club booth! “Hm, you’re already wet for me, mama,” he appreciatively hums, watching your face intently for your reactions. “Were you this wet when you were changing earlier, thinkin’ about me doin’ this?” 

“Ace,” you whisper, your eyes leaving his to assess the club. Luckily, everyone is too busy dancing and drinking to notice your boyfriend playing with your pussy, but the idea that someone could see turns you on even more. “Don’t be shy,” he chuckles, an evil glint in his eye. “You can let that voice out more. The music is loud enough.” 

He begins to press his finger very lightly against your entrance and you’d just about cry out in pleasure if it wasn’t for his little brother dancing up to them to the reggaeton beat playing from the speakers above. “What are you guys sittin’ down for?!” Luffy yells, drunk with his hat tipped sideways and those hips moving. “C’mon and dance with me! The music is great!”

You try to move away from Ace, but his finger sinking into your pussy stops you. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning as he begins to slowly and torturously finger fuck your cunt, gliding against the underside of your clit as he does so. “Oh, we’ll be there,” Ace reassures his brother with a smile. “Right, Y/N? You love this type of music.” 

You can barely breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, Luffy is dancing away to join his crew on the floor, leaving you and Ace alone. You turn to him, glaring daggers at him. “I fucking hate you,” you growl. 

Ace chuckles as he starts to thumb your clit, emitting soft moans from your lips. “I love you too, mama,” he coos, kissing your neck. “I’ll treat you to a dance after I make you cum, m’kay?” 

And he does both: he makes you cum on his fingers right under the table and buys you a pretty drink to go with a pretty girl like you. 

LAW 

He is befuddled. Confused. And completely alarmed. 

Because why the fuck are you just walking around his ship with no panties on? He realizes this when you first come sauntering into his bed chambers one night and sit in his lap. He’s at his desk, looking over a map and circling some hotspots to stop at for food and supplies. “Hey,” you coo, wrapping your arms around his thick neck. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleep?” he grumbles, doing his best to not admire you in your pink mini dress with the flowers printed on it and how the hem stops at your thighs. “We pull into port come dawn.” 

You hum in acknowledgement. “I know, but you’ve been sitting here almost all day. And plus, I need you in order to sleep.” You lean in to kiss along his thick neck and shoulders, cooing softly as you do. The scent of your perfume and your soft voice in his ear are enough to make him bust, but alas, he has work to do. “Well, try,” he deadpans, giving your thigh a pinch. “Now c’mon, I have work to do. I’ll be there in a bit.” 

You whine in protest, wiggling around in his lap and causing his cock to stir. “But you said that an hour ago!” you argue with a pout of your soft, glossy lips. “Come on, Law, snuggle with me!” But when he gives you one of those stern looks, you sigh and scoot off of his lap to sit on his bed, pouty and mad. 

He’s supposed to go back to his work. Keyword: supposed to. But all of that goes out the window as he watches you lean back and open your legs in the mirror behind his desk that faces you. Your eyes stay posted to his as you do so, the hem of your dress riding up to reveal your naked thighs and ass. “Da hell?” he asks, confused. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently, even as your thighs slowly move apart. Law swears he nearly has a heart attack when he realizes that there is nothing covering your pussy, revealing all of you to him. “Where the fuck are your panties?” he asks, glaring at the sight. 

“It was hot today,” you answer simply. “So I went without.” You lean back farther onto your hands, causing your dress to ride up onto your naked stomach. Law can't take his eyes off of your pussy though. It looks so pretty; so brown; so delectable.

“Were you just…walkin’ around like that all day?” he asks barely above a growl. “Without any panties?” He doesn't realize that he’s gripping the map until he hears a slight tear in the paper that makes him stop. 

You shoot him a scowl. “Why do you care?” you retort. “You weren’t payin’ any attention to me, so don’t act like you do now.” But obviously, you’re lying. You want him and you knew exactly how to get him. That’s why you made sure to skip out on wearing undies today. 

Nothing more comes out of Law except for groans and grunts of pleasure when he is on top of you minutes later, his clothes off and his hands gripping the hem of your dress as he fucks you in it. He has your legs up by your ears and his cock sunk deep into your pussy that makes such nice, squelching noises for him every time he thrusts into it.

“Now,” he huffs, staring down at your pretty face and jiggling titties, “any mouth you got for me now? Huh, little girl?” 

You don’t give him anything but a sob, your pretty face contorted in sheer pleasure as his cock strokes your insides. Law chuckles and sinks his two thick fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, right down to his knuckle tattoos.

“I didn't think so,” he groans. 

[alucards-boots]

Requests are currently CLOSED.

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IMAGINES

Imagines are ideas you have, not requests.

example: “alucard definetely likes to hoard cats into his castle every night as a form of cat ritual” or whatnot.

REQUESTS

Asking me to write down drabbles or stories down in a plot of your wish.

Ex. “May i request trevor meeting y/n?”

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𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰! 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘵, i’m 17, 𝘪 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦.. 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵?

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Rules for requesting.

DO NOT.

- noncon/dubcon

- nsfw (for now.)

- nasty kinks such as scat, zoophilia, and so on.

- do not request anything bigoted, such as ableism, racism and so on.

- any fetishes (foot fetish, you know the drill.)

- pedophilia, and similar elements.

- i wont do fics about real people nor aging any minor characters up for nsfw or suggestive unless it is simply regular age up i.e timeskip.

- no discriminatory requests or offensive and hateful ones, i believe you know better than to do these.

DO

- you don’t have to request x reader stuff, it can simply be ‘<char> playing with a kitten!’ And so on.

- i do write poly ships or any ships.

- you can be as specific as you want, do not worry about any pressure!

- yes, i do write suggestive things.

- i do angsty too.

- request as much as you like!

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This is a castlevania nocturne and castlevania 2017/2021 request blog, so feel free to give me any ideas or brainstorm, you can simply grace me with your presence in my inbox with a random imagine and i’ll join you.

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DNI/do not interact: lenore/sumi/taka fans/apologists, bigots, homophobes, transphobes, trump supporters, zionists and so on, i will not be tolerating any behavior i am against nor will i pay any mind and attention to you.

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Note.

Feel free to give me some advice or criticism about my work! But please remember not to be rude or impolite, i will ignore your sentiment if you are rude.

Do not rush me on any requests, it takes time for me, i made this blog merely to test my writing skills and of course, for fun. I have a life, i have things to do and so do you, so be patient.

And if you want to be an emoji-assigned anon, feel free to drop your emoji and i’ll refer to you as that!

- FB.

[jailbird-junkrat-writes]

°•○☆About☆○•° I used to write for Overwatch years ago under the same blog name but had something big happen in real life and foolishly deleted the blog.

You can sometimes see some of the reblogs floating around.

I'm Jailbird and I'm a huge overwatch fan. After taking a big break I am back.

(I left in 2020 and had been in and out of the game but not active in fandom)

°•○☆Tags☆○•° Jailbird jabbers - not related content/just talking Jailbird polls - polls Spicyrat - N/SFW Posts/thoughts

°•○☆Current Prompt List☆○•°

My overwatch bio and RULES below

°•○☆Rules☆○•° 1. You can request up to 3 chars at a time for headcanons. 1 for drabble/fic 2. All my readers are gender neutral and if I write notsafe fw its mostly genderlessly written. If otherwise I will always state.

3. I do write yandere and dead dove content. Will be tagged.

4. I will not write daddy/mommy kink. Age play, minors, anything racist or homophobic/transphobic etc. No form of pregnancy nor anything with anyone having children.

5. I'm 99% kink friendly.

6. I won't reply to requests that don't have a please or thank you.

7. I will only write for the following characters as of (Dec 7th 2024) Those with names in >BLUE< I am not super confident in writing but I will. Those with names in (PINK) are my faves to write about and I will prob go overboard <3 If they have a * next to them. I only write SFW with them.

Ana Ashe (Baptiste) (Cassidy) D.va * >Genji< * Hanzo Hazard >Illari < * Junker Queen (Junkrat) (Lucio) >Mauga< >Mei< * >Mercy< (Moira) >Pharah< (Ramattra) Reaper Reinhardt (Roadhog) (Sigma) >Soldier 76< * Sombra Symmetra Widowmaker >Zarya< * (Zenyatta)

There are characters I want to write for I just need to learn their canon a little more.

Note: Please be gentle with me and lore/canon. I have not been active in overwatch fandom/writing since 2020. I am doing my best with my ADHD memory brain ✌️

I am proship - I ship canon characters with one another. Love OCs and selfships. Come chat at me about these things <3

°•○☆My Mains☆○•°

I'm pretty competent at

Don't make me snipe. I'll explode.

°•○☆More☆○•° I'm LGBT+, chronicly ill and chronicly chill. ADHD haver. European. Crafter, writer, coffee consumer. Closer to 40 than 30. I have learning disabilities that I have damn well tried to overcome but I do struggle with grammar and spelling no matter what spellchecker I use but I'm doing my best.

I'm married. I actually met my wife via the first time I wrote overwatch fanfiction hahaha.

Junkrat brought us together ✌️

°•○☆DNI☆○•° Terfs - tories - minors - antis - homophobic- racist - transphobic

[atiny-piratequeen]

*cracks knuckles* Okay, here we go!

I am opening commissions for June/July!

Most of my usual Commission Rules apply, however, for this round, I will be accepting 3-4 at this time, and I will only be accepting full payments at this time. Please be aware these slots are for JUNE/JULY. If you are not okay with waiting for them to be posted, or pay in full for them, I don't think I will be able to accept them this time around.

Info under the cut

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬-(All Prices are in USD and payment will be collected either via Paypal or Kofi if PP is not available to the commissioner. Commissioners are responsible for conversions)

Timestamps/Drabbles (Below 1k): $5USD

1k-$10USD

2K-$20USD

3K-$30 USD

Etc…

꧁ Works over 5k will have an additional $5 dollars added onto the total and need to give me at least a month’s time to complete, works over 10k will be an additional $10

꧁ In the event that I cannot reach your desired minimum WC (i.e, i fall just short of 2k, etc), you’ll only have to pay up to the % of the wc I fell short of. (ex, if a comm is 2k but I reach 1.5k, the price would be $15 and the $5 will be refunded.) The same applies if I happen to write over how much you paid for, you do not have to pay for the extra words. 

꧁ All commissions from any of my personal series (for example, if you’d like to buy a commission for something in AtT’s Verse, Ataraxia Verse, or Night Shift’s verse), recieve a 10% discount (drabbles and timestamps excluded)

-Do note that any comms in established universes are n o n canon events and unless discussed/agreed upon by me, do not expect a comm to be canon in my series past the confines of said commission

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

-Most Genres (Fluff, Romance, Angst, etc)

-Smut (Commissioner must be 18 or older, absolutely no exceptions. Ever)

-Crossover Fandom Ships (You can inquire in dms which other bands I stan and I’ll let you know if I know them well enough to write the work being commissioned)

-MxM Fics 

-MxR Fics (feel free to let me know in the inquiry what the reader’s gender identity is and if there is any other personalized things you’d like for the work)

-Etc (Please check the works I have posted across this account and my other accounts for a general idea of the content I have written before and feel comfortable writing)

-**New** Anime/Video Game Fics, as long as I am familiar with the source material

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞

-Underaged Smut (No underaged idols, no underaged reader scenerios, absolutely no nsfw smut commissions to be accepted at all. Anyone who even inquires about underaged smut will be promptly blocked :) )--In the event of Anime Reqs, all characters will be 18+ regardless of canon

-Rape/Dub-Con/ “CNC” 

-Yandere Works in any capacity

-Works with a biggoted message (homophobia, transphobia, racism)

-Incest (Yes this inculdes adopted and step siblings/families)

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨

Anyone who’d like to commission me is welcome to inquire in my dms. Please keep your DMs open so we may maintain an easy two-way communication during the commission process. I am also open to using Discord as a means of communication.

 I will NOT be taking commissions through my ask box at all, if you are not comfortable with messaging me through dms or on discord, I will not be taking your comission. My ask boxes are not appropriate places to be exchanging payment information. 

Again, I do not accept nsfw commissions from minors (those under 18), please respect this and failure to do so will result in you being blocked. 

Once I talk with you on what you’d like to commission, I will send you my PayPal and I can begin as soon as I receive the payment.

Please allow two weeks minimum for commissions once the initial payment agreement is reached, as I also work outside of this and have other works to do alongside your commissioned work. 

Works 3k+ will require a minimum of 3 weeks to a month, and I will message you with updates along the way.

As the creator, I reserve the right to decline any commission request handed to me. Please be respectful in the event that I turn down your commission request, I am open to alterations to requests so that it may be more comfortable, but if I cannot write the work comfortably, it will be denied. 

All of these works, though commissioned, are still under my copyright, so reposting is absolutely not allowed. The works will be posted both here and ao3, but I still will not allow it to be reposted to other sites/accounts that are not my own

Works that are Ateez focused will be posted @atiny-piratequeen

Any non atz works will be on my multi blog @nocturne-overtures

Anime/Video Game works will be posted on @sin-hashira (Blog under construction)

Thank you so much for reading through. As per usual, reblogs are welcome always and I hope you all have a lovely day/night!