#a-z drabble practice

[coconi]

A-Z Drabble Practice #16

Perhaps it's true what they say, a small voice in the back of Shadow's mind supplies. It is monotone. Clinical. Detached. It doesn't sound like him. But then again, the blood-soaked claws before Shadow's eyes hardly look like his own either.

Shadow doesn't remember what happened. He doesn't need to: he stands unharmed before a faceless body on the ground — still warm, still writhing, still fighting — ready to deliver the final blow. Recognition lies somewhere far beyond reach. Affection farther still.

It is better this way.

Perhaps it's true what they say: the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

(Previous) (Next)

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING WELL-BEHAVED !!! OSCAR P. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: sometimes, the quietest people in public made the goodest boys in bed.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, sub!oscar, praising, p in v, oscar being overstimmed and potentially on subspace, drabble because i haven't written in a while oml

note: pardon me, i'm just milly rocking into 2025 rn. this season was in shambles i needed to write something beforehand.

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

‘stay still.’ 

two words that she repeated over and over again, but oscar was far off the ground as of this point that he wasn’t sure what those words meant. 

“stay still,” she murmured before catching his earlobe between her teeth, her hand reaching behind his head and tugging on his hair like she owned him.

oh, she owned him as much as he did her. but right now, he was a putty being molded into a good boy that he was.

“m-my god,” oscar stammered, his brain foggy with desire and desperation to feel her touch.

“shhh… stay still,” she said before clambering up his lap and sinking down on his cock- his well-loved cockthat she couldn’t get enough of when it came to riding it. “ah, god.”

“fuck yes, baby,” oscar whimpered hoarsely, his eyes squinting whenever he felt the beats that made a rhythm between the pair of them. she didn’t have to sing to create quite a masterpiece. “god, this pussy of yours, baby.”

“you like that?”

“fuck- yes, honey,” oscar said needily, “need this cunt so bad.”

“yeah?” 

she supposed that the quietest people in public made the most vocal men in bed. she wasn’t sure. oscar was always vocal in bed, and almost domineering. but he was never… submissive.

not until now.

“god, fuck me,” oscar cried out in a groggy voice, “yes, yes, ride me, baby. ride me. please, baby, please.”

“good boy,” she crooned, her hips allowing her to ride oscar like she would a horse. his cock had never gotten soft from their previous rounds; oscar was that horny for her. “good fucking boy, baby.”

“yes, ‘m your good boy,” oscar said, his mouth practically drooling as soon as she pressed her two fingers into it. his mouth swirled around those fingers, coating them wet. “mffh- mfhm-“

she never was once the domineering type. but if her beau acted like this more often…

yeah… perhaps she’d fuck oscar like a good boy that he was more often.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne @marknolee @xylinasdiary @anotherblackreader

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

[amuyyi]

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it. 

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.) 

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man. 

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add! 

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them. 

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream. 

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…” 

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness. 

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this  played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And aren't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth. 

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

[throwawayhero]

could you give more hcs or a drabble about bakugou with a crush on reader!! pls i feel like ur fics are the closest ive seen to canon... i need more

No problem, and thanks! I try to make them seem canon, but sometimes it's difficult T-T. Just realising now that a few of these sound stalker-y and I'm sorta regretting writing this but oh well. I hope this is satisfactory!! c/w; social media au, buzzfeed, eminem (idek), karaoke, not proof read

!Katsuki who unintentionally catches himself playing with his hair while talking to you. Not in an obvious way (that's what he thinks at least), but more so absentmindedly fiddling with his side burns and such. It's kinda funny when he accidentally curls them and leaves them like that for a while. He also has a habit of playing with his baby hairs on the back of his neck.

!Katsuki who "accidentally" managed to copy your handwriting style down stroke for stroke? He doesn't really know how it happened, to be honest. He just noticed it one day during a group project after Jirou pointed it out to the two of you. You found it funny, but he found it outrageous and claimed that you had been the one to copy his handwriting.

!Katsuki who allowed you to tag along on one of Kirishima's and his study sessions. He beat the shit out of Eijirou and was gentle with you, more or less. He wouldn't hit you of course, but he certainly wasn't scared to yell. At least the first time. The look you gave him made him writhe with guilt, so he shut the fuck up out of embarrassment.

!Katsuki who heard you talking about a band you loved and decided it was his god given right to go through their whole discography and criticise it in his own time. But turns out, you have good taste, so he keeps to himself about it. "Accidentally" bought a spare ticket to their next concert and offered the spot to you. No big deal, right?

!Katsuki who did extensive searching for your socials, scrolling through his friends friends following, mutuals, and genuinely just word of mouth. When he did find your accounts, he stalked the SHIT out of them. When you requested to follow him, he freaked out and accepted straight away. He didn't follow you back until a week later, "just to be safe".

!Katsuki who unironically took one of those "Do I have a crush on my friend?" quizzes when he started to feel things towards you. 100% went down a rabbit hole on buzzfeed. He wanted to call his "crush" ANYTHING other than what it was. Mentioned it to Kirishima once and was left even ore confused than what he had originally been.

Unrelated but he just looks like he would listen to Eminem. Probably gets a good chuckle out of the whole "You gonna cancel me, yeah? Gen Z me brah?!" thing. Don't ask me to explain why I think this, it just makes sense.

!Katsuki who more often than not is watching you out of the corner of his eye. Not in an overly-creepy way, he's just "aware of his surroundings". He says that to anyone that mentions it, which is literally just his paranoia.

!Katsuki who secretly loved the fact that you hung out with him and his friends almost daily. Because then he wouldn't have to initiate hangouts and look as desperate as he really was. It gave him a plausible excuse to absorb every single opinion you uttered. It gave him an excuse to get even closer to you.

!Katsuki who freaked the FUCK out when everyone (besides the two of you) got sick and couldn't do the bi-weekly hangout everyone had played a part in organising. The group had settled on doing karaoke, so you can imagine how it went down with just the two of you there. Although, the two of you did make an amazing duet. (No one was really sick, Mina just mentioned Katsuki's behaviour and put 2 and 2 together. She also wanted to see if he would take initiative for once.)

!Katsuki who went out of his way to make changes to his hero costume that he knew you would like. Small details here and there, for both style and practicality. While it was cold he would use the neck warmer to hide the smirk that creeped onto his face when he saw you checking out his new look. He also started to make himself look nicer in general, indulging in a bit of jewellery (stud earrings, a ring or two, and a silver necklace), nicer shoes, wearing the uniform properly and such.

!Katsuki who has your number pinned in his contacts, as well as giving you your own message & ring tone sound. He has everyone but you, Kirishima, and his parents on silenced. He also has your contact saved as a nickname he assigned you without you knowing with a heart emoji. It's simple, but endearing.

[wendichester]

𓂃⋆. writing schedule

ever since starting this blog, one thing i can pride myself in is in being consistent with my posting (˶˃⤙˂˶) unfortunately, because life outside of tumblr has been absolutely chaotic, i can't continue with the tag list. it's too big and i have to comment the rest of the list and sometimes, i don't have the time. it's not practical anymore. so, i created this post so you know exactly when to check my blog for new posts .ᐟ

sun-fri at 10:03 am ˋ°•*⁀➷ original drabbles with the winchester brothers saturdays at 10:03 am ˋ°•*⁀➷ castiel drabbles everyday at 17:57 pm ˋ°•*⁀➷ request drabbles

from today onwards, i will no longer continue to tag people in my posts. i hope i can still count with your support ♡ྀི ₊ to be notified whenever i post, activate my notifications .ᐟ

✶ ᶻ z .ᐟ PS. GMT+1 time

[torawro]

WHEN BLADES CLASH, SO DO HEARTS. ( r. z. )

roronoa zoro & bounty hunter!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman who is on the thicker / curvier side but you do not have to imagine it that way ! you are free to imagine the reader how you wish. canon divergent au (lowkey implied post-timeskip -> zoro is still a bounty hunter and never became a pirate). bc it's canon divergent, zoro will have both eyes (i know, i know). mentions and descriptions of alcohol consumption. canon-typical violence (i.e., mentions of weapons). light(ish) descriptions of blood & injuries. so much [sexual] tension between reader and zoro that it's palpable. contains sexually explicit content including smut (descriptions of it from an omniscient pov). gets kinda poetic at the end but y’all already knew that was coming. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 4.8k

notes ━━ ! my first published one piece fic on my blog . . . you'd think the first one would be about law since my current theme revolves around him but alas, this swordsman was prominent in my mind…i did lose motivation at some point but i still pushed through. this fic was originally something i drafted up to serve as the prologue for a much longer fic i'm writing (no hints, sorry < 3). and i thought writing this purely for contextual purposes would help with that longer story, but in the process it just turned into something else all on its own skskkskks so this is a modified version of that blurb. obvs this is also my first time officially writing for zoro so i’m a little nervous and to be honest, i’m not sure if i even like how this turned out…..regardless, i hope i portrayed him well enough (pls be gentle with me) >< also wanna dedicate this fic to naj, a mutual of mine who became a friend, but unfortunately deactivated her blog some time ago. she's been helping me with this drabble and the longer story i plan to write and i really appreciate her. reblogs + commentary are GREATLY appreciated ♡!!!

SHAKING OFF THE GRAVELLY SAND that haphazardly clung to the fabric of your pants, with little effort and practiced precision, you swiftly returned a large metal rod back into a black carrying bag before swinging the straps over your right shoulder. Rolling your arms to relieve some of the tension that resided in them proved to be a little painful, leading you to conclude that you most likely pulled a muscle somewhere when fighting the unknown men who had just attacked you. 

Said men were now lying unconscious on the ground, hardly breathing and within an inch of their lives. 

You didn’t kill them ━no, of course not ━ that would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, you were well aware that your energy would be well-spent elsewhere, like searching for the next poor soul that had a bounty looming over their head. You were like a hunting dog, the scent of your next target set in front of you by the wanted posters littered around in each city or island you traveled to. Much like how the grim reaper awaited in the shadow of someone who stood inches away from the gates of death, you too would bide your time until the right moment to strike.

You took pride in the fact that the glint of your weapon would be the last thing that reflected in the eyes of your target.

The end result of your fight, if you could even call it that, was as chilling as the evening breeze that was brought forth by the wading waves of the ocean. You have made your mark on the flesh of these men, reopening some old wounds and creating new ones that would certainly scar forever. On levels of the skin and of the spirit.

With a heavy sigh, you adjusted your bag again as you walked towards the cluster of little lights nestled beyond the trees, within them existed this main island’s largest town. Your facial muscles didn’t so much as twitch as the pointed heel of your boots dug into the skin of your unconscious assailants— thinking nothing of their drowsy, muffled grunts of pain or the stark contrast between stepping over doughy bodies versus stepping on the hard earth.

The waxing crescent moon only slightly illuminated the dirt road as you made your way to the populated village, occasionally swatting away a fly or two. Soon enough, the mouth of the semi-dense woods opened up to reveal a wide gravel road. Across the opening was a bridge that stood over a flowing stream, and beyond that was the town. It was a cluster of buildings of varying heights lined up neatly street by street.

Lamps hung on every corner, street pole and ledge that would allow it, bathing all that rested under them in a pale yellow glow. It was quite pretty at night if you were being honest; and judging by its looks and atmosphere, you were sure that they’d have a nice inn around somewhere.

But first, a drink. And some food, you added as an afterthought, but mostly a drink. Your body could use a bit of external help to unwind after spending the last few days at sea.

It didn’t take you all that long to find out where the town’s bar was located, and you wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the double swinging doors. The clacking of your boots against the wooden floors upon entering the establishment were more or less drowned out by the chatter of the rugged-looking individuals who more or less made themselves at home.

And yet, despite the dozens of conversations that bounced off the walls of the tavern, the stares of everyone whose line of vision you crossed seemed to be louder. Much louder than any fit of raucous laughter or profane shout that surrounded you.

Your ears were even able to pluck out a few conversations. Hushed inquiries of familiarity, musings of what could possibly be in that bag dangling on your back, how the pants you wore emphasized the fat of your ass just right━ all things you let roll off your back and pretended not to hear. 

If it weren’t for your more reserved nature, you would have slashed that the throat of the man who made that salacious comment the moment it left his dried lips.

You took a random seat at the bar, not really paying attention to who sat on either side of you. Placing the cowboy-style hat you wore next to you and your belongings at your feet, you patiently awaited for the bartender to make her way down to where you sat. 

As you waited, you crossed your legs, one fleshy thigh over the other, absentmindedly twirling one of the bulky silver rings that encased your middle finger as you wondered what drink you were in the mood for today.

It wasn’t until several moments later, when your body and mind stilled enough, that you’d take notice.

Something felt . . . weird. ‘Off’ was probably a better word for the strange weight that suspended itself over your muscles. Whatever it was, whatever feeling or presence you sensed, it had your fingers twitching towards your bag laying idly against the table. And it only continued to linger in the air as the minutes dragged by.

The sound of the barkeep’s voice pulled you back into the plane of reality and away from the realm of your overactive mind. “What’ll ya be having tonight, honey?” She was an older woman, probably around the age of fifty but looked much younger, had deeply tanned skin, and peppered black and white hair that was pulled into a bun and rested at the base of her neck. 

“Hmmm . . . whatever your best cocktail is, I’ll just have that.” 

With a nod and an amused smile at you allowing her to have free reign, the barkeep turned around, set a shaker aside, and got to work preparing a drink of her choice to serve to you.

Then, something flashed in your peripheral vision.

It was so fleeting that you could have easily dismissed it as nothing had you not been on somewhat high alert already. It flickered in the reflection of the metal canisters that sat along the back wall of the bar. And whatever it was managed to startle you enough to jump start the pulse in your chest into a panicked overdrive so fierce that you heard it in your ears.

The frantic beating of your heart  never showed on your face, however━ your expression remained neutral. It needed to be for a woman in your line of work. Perhaps especially because you were a woman in your line of work.

Without any warning or indication, the cold sensation of polished steel licked and nipped at the warmth residing in your neck. The sharpened end of a blade rested on the jugular of your throat, pressed firmly enough that if you moved forward even a little bit, a stain from your blood would surely blossom on the katana.

“You…” a deep male voice spoke, sounding rough and rugged all around its edges. The rest of the pub seemed to fall silent at the man’s utterance of that one word, rather than his blatant display of threatening you with a sword. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes were the only thing that moved. Slowly, with a frosty gleam underlining your gaze, your eyes landed on the sword’s master, his name immediately flashing in your mind. His reputation as a bounty hunter sent a chill down the spines of both marines and pirates alike. Residents all over the four seas feared his name, and his name alone could cause people to question if the threads of their lives would be severed by the piercing edge of his sword.

“Roronoa Zoro….” Your tone was leveled and held an air of disinterest as you talked. You spoke as if you were tasting the very syllables of his name, taking the time to roll each combination of letters against your tongue. They tumbled from your lips with a smoothness you weren’t entirely opposed to━ it was almost pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself.

A practice you didn't normally engage in.

Upon identifying the swordsman aloud, a short wave of hushed gasps from the customers surrounding you filled the air. With speeds that almost seemed abnormal, the long metal pole resting in your black bag suddenly ended up in your grasp, one end of it hovering several inches away from Roronoa's neck; such speeds even caught the mint-haired swordsman off guard. “Getting a drink, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”

Before he could even part his lips to reply, the piercing shing! of steely iron being brandished cut through the thick tension that settled in between you. A long and heavily curved blade abruptly emerged from the blackened rod in your right hand, and oh so conveniently arced around Roronoa's neck, momentarily silencing him. 

The weapon you carried was a scythe, one with a retractable blade meant to disarm your opponent’s perception and therefore hinder their judgment. A scythe that was reminiscent of the tool Death used to carry out his grisly duties of executing souls and dragging them to hell.

In this position with the scythe’s blade practically wrapped around his throat, if need be you could swiftly behead him, or at least mutilate him; judging by how quickly he unsheathed his katana, his reflexes were pretty sharp. Still, the potential ease of killing Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro— in addition to the mild bewilderment reflecting in his eyes and the patrons’ silent gasps once they pieced together who you were— caused your lips to tick upwards, but your countenance remained otherwise stoic.

“And I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason. That, or you just couldn’t get enough of me during our last battle, and you tracked me down for more.”

Your previously dry tone had somehow morphed into one with an airy lilt, followed by a quiet chuckle that bubbled in your chest when you saw Roronoa's brows twitch and deepen with ire at your subtly teasing words.

You were referring to the last time you saw the swordsman on some obscure island that took root in the Grand Line; an island whose name currently escaped your memory. With you being a bounty hunter as well, your job was the only reason why your paths have crossed so often, and why you have come to know Roronoa on a more personal level such as this. Each time your gazes clashed, it would always result in an inevitable battle, which indirectly fanned the flames of an unspoken competition between the two of you.

If his current expression was anything to go by, this bar may very well be your next battlefield. “You lost that fight, remember?” He emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of his blade a little further into your neck, the increased pressure causing your eyebrow to all but twitch, “Or did I hit you too hard last time we fought, and now you’re suffering from long-term memory loss?”

The edges of an insufferable smirk curled at Roronoa's lips— one that conveyed his confidence in his abilities and matched the glint in his eyes that began to grow hungry for a brawl. And now, the corners of your own lips broke into a small, amused smile— or perhaps it would be more accurately referred to as a sneer— and you responded by mirroring his earlier movements.

Pressing the sharp end of your scythe into the back of his neck, the blade was met with the resistance of the corded muscle residing there, and your gaze eagerly drank in the brief glimmer of pain that was but a ripple across his arrogant expression.

“I didn’t lose that fight. It was a draw, at best. Seems like you must not remember the excessive blood loss on your end. But anyhow, tell me something pirate hunter…” You uncrossed your legs to stand up and took one step closer towards Roronoa, careful not to let his sword further nick your skin even though it was already dangerously close to you, “How many bounties have you collected since we last saw each other? Three? Two? One?”

Your voice descended further into a teasing whisper, and Roronoa's indignation only grew with each number you hurled at him.

The samurai didn’t take your tone lightly, and perceived your step forward as something of a  challenge, one that his nerves and heart and bones pleasantly vibrated to the sound of. So he too took a step forward, away from the piercing curve of your scythe that hung behind him like a shadow.

Roronoa was a little taller than you were, so meeting his gaze meant angling your neck upwards whilst he simultaneously moved his face an inch closer to yours.  “You think you’re hot shit, huh? Try five, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared involuntarily at his bold claim, and something . . . something warm prickled underneath your skin at his referral to you as sweetheart. For some reason, that word━ especially coming from his lips━ was a bit harder to ignore compared to other comments about you from this bar's patrons. And what they said was far more conflicting than a simple term of endearment; even if the 'endearment' in question was so obviously meant to be condescending.

“Is that right? You think you're such a badass, don't you?"

"That's 'cause I am."

Roronoa's mocking sneer was punctuated with a step forward into your space this time; any closer and the front of your clothes might graze each other. The swordsman pushed the boundaries once more by adding a little more force onto the grip of his katana, enough to finally break the bonds of your umber tinted skin.

A barely decipherable noise of amusement and veneration rumbled in his chest when your blood dripped on the length of his sword, but your reaction was nothing more than an involuntary clench in your facial muscles.

"Yeah?" You questioned him with a glare and a tilt of your head in the direction of his blade that uncomfortably sat at the opening of your skin. The tightness in your voice was meant to goad him, but it also contained the sparks of a challenge━ and of something else you didn't want to identify━ that ignited in the pit of your stomach with an increasing amount of fervor.

"Yeah." His voice descended a little lower into a place that killed the next sentence on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes then narrowed as you held Roronoa's taupe gaze, his overconfident words floated in the silent air between you like a speck of smoldering ash, ready to burst into something more intense and fierce the moment it touched the ground.

Then you shifted your cold gaze elsewhere, opting to let it lazily roam around the room. Everyone was staring at the both of you with uneasy expressions and anxious stares. You could tell that even at the slightest movement from either you or the swordsman would cause the panic bubbling beneath their skin to flood forth in waves.

If there was one thing about you, you preferred to be to discreet. It made your job a whole lot easier, and more enjoyable in the long run.

A hummed vibrated behind your plump lips and your glare returned to his. "Let's take this outside, swordsman. I'd hate to ruin this nice lady's establishment with scuff marks and your blood."

Roronoa huffed a scoff, the amused smirk from before uncurled into something more animalistic. "That's funny. But sure, I'm down. When I defeat you and spill your blood on the ground, it'll make perfect fertilizer for those little plants I saw outside."

You huffed at his cocky attitude and accompanied it with a roll of your eyes. Your stare pierced him for a moment longer before you rescinding it, along with your scythe that was still outstretched towards him. The mint haired swordsman followed suit after another beat or so.

"That's about as likely as a fish growing legs and walking on land." Your voice was thick with sarcasm as you fished out a cotton pouch from your bag; it was small in size, but heavy with Berry. As you slipped out a couple of bills to pay for the drink that sat idly forgotten at your seat, another hand forcefully placed several bills down on the counter.

That hand belonged to Roronoa. You had to force yourself from letting your irises linger too long, or else you'd start thinking about how rugged, calloused, and veiny it looked.

With a newfound general annoyance at both him and yourself, you proceeded to present the bills to the bartender, who looked as if she was one muscle twitch away from ducking under the table behind the counter. You offered something similar to a sympathetic smile to assuage whatever she was feeling.

"Don't bother." Roronoa called out.

When you turned around to greet his voice, he was sheathing the sword that he previously drawn and made his way to the entrance of the pub.

"What are you talking about?" As you inquired, the swordsman still allowed his back to face you, hardly pausing to properly address you.

"I said, don't bother." he repeated in a stern tone, as if that was going to elucidate exactly what he meant, "Now come on. I'm itching to cut you down so I can go lay down."

And without adding anything further, Roronoa eventually exited the bar and disappeared behind the doors.

You were starting to lose count of how many times you narrowed your eyes at the green-haired man, but your stare━ both equal parts vexed and confused━ rested on the doors he had just walked through as if glaring at them long or hard enough would summon him again.

With a sigh, you turned back to the thin stack of Berry he left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. You weren't sure what he ordered or how much of it, but it look like quite a bit of money he'd just randomly tossed next to you.

Was he insinuating . . . . that he paid for both of your drinks? Could this be what he meant when he told you not to bother, because he already covered it? Such a gratuitous act of kindness, something seemingly so simple caused that weird fluttering to bounce against the walls of your stomach again.

Picking up your bag, you continued to poke and dissect his actions in an attempt find meaning in them as you tipped the barkeep, once more ignoring the stares of nearly every person in that building as you left.

The moment your heeled boots dug themselves into the ground, your peripheral vision was bombarded with something being swung in your direction at high speeds. Before you could even process what it was, you instinctively leapt out of the way, your neck jerking backwards to further avoid the object.

A grunt filled your ears, already knowing the origin of the sound. "Nice reflexes."

You exhaled an exasperated breath of air, turning your gaze to meet that of the mint-haired swordsman who had begun to unsheathe a second sword out of the three scabbards hanging from his hip.

"Can I at least breathe first? Set my stuff down perhaps?" You asked wryly, almost unimpressed, but you didn't waste any time removing the straps of your bag to set it down on a nearby barrel, still cursing the pirate hunter under your breath all the same.

"Didn't know you were that eager to eat dirt." The familiar hiss of your scythe's blade erecting from the rod sent a pleasurable chill up your arms. You held your weapon tightly at your side, your grasp around its length tightening ever still when Roronoa began to square his stance. Even when you were several feet away from him, you could still clearly see the crease in his brows becoming more prominent; he began to resemble some kind of beast.

But that glimmer in his eyes held no real fire in them━ at least not the one that would lead to anger; one could even say it was one of wild excitement. The swordsman already knew his thirst for a worthwhile fight would be sufficiently quenched once more.

"Shut up." With a grunt, Roronoa pushed off the balls of his feet to launch himself into a powerful sprint towards you. It was clear he wanted to close as much distance between the two of you as quickly as possible. His movements were reminiscent of his brief display of swordplay earlier in the bar, where he was one swipe away from slitting your throat.

He was fast, but the gritty and often dangerous nature of your job honed your reflexes to be faster.

Your spine bended as you briskly leaned backwards to dodge the double swipe of Roronoa's katanas. The sound of the sharp blades cutting through the very air around you. With it only inches away from your nose, it was enough to replace the blood pumping through your veins with pure adrenaline.

Using the momentum from your quick dodge, you allowed your back to curve into a bridge and kicked upwards into a backflip to move out of the way━ the corners of your lips twitched into a satisfied grin when you felt your foot collide with his jaw and chin.

Once you were upright again, you wasted no time lunging forward in a sprint, you body much lower to the ground than Roronoa's was. Your plan was to slash his legs to throw him off balance, but that plan quickly evaporated like smoke due to his quick recovery and immediate realization of what you were doing.

"Tch." Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in annoyance when the swordsman was able to leap in the air in time to avoid your attack. He was high enough that you had to crane your neck to see. With that much height, the next blow was sure to be one with quite a bit of force behind it.

"Two-Swords Style, Nigiri...." The swordsman's orotund voice descended far from where he was suspended in midair, and you braced yourself for his next attack, "....Tower Climb Return!"

The following clash of piercing steel against metallic iron was deafening, swallowing up any other noise that reverberated around you. The sheer impact of Roronoa's attack created a thin ring of dust that encircled both your figures and violently buzzed against the pole of your scythe.

You gritted your teeth to remain footed into the ground, but the force was too much, and that shit-eating grin nearly unfurling at his lips was too annoying. It shook the steadiness in your legs and caused you to tumble back by several yards. By steeling your thighs and calves you willed yourself not to fall, huffing with effort and frustration.

It hadn't even been that long since you've last fought Roronoa, could he really have made noticeable improvements in a short amount of time?

Regardless of the answer, you weren't about to allow him the chance to prove himself.

The both of you then darted at each other again, your motions a bit more cutthroat this time, and a newborn determination to strike down the pirate hunter further fed the burning adrenaline that coursed through your body.

Reaching your arm backwards, you performed a horizontal slash that Roronoa parried almost instantly. With effortless control and graceful dexterity, you reached both arms behind your back and twirled your scythe between your fingers, shifting the weapon from one hand to the other, and attempted to cut him again.

He blocked that attack as well, the tip of the blade just inches away from his left eye. You saw something moving fast in your peripheral vision, and immediately jumped backwards to avoid the katana that was about to release your intestines from the confines of your stomach.

It was always a pain fighting Roronoa because he wielded multiple swords at once, which means battles with him were more drawn out than they needed to be.

You lunged at him once more, and began to administer a barrage of horizontal, vertical and diagonal slashes in rapid succession. Your constant switching from one hand to the other, in addition to its length and the impressive control you exerted over your limbs, you were able to create a variety of fluid, long and short-range attack patterns, barely allowing Roronoa enough time to parry.

The moss-haired swordsman was keeping up with the relentless flurry of your attacks quite well━ for a short while at least. Roronoa lost himself in his own inner monologue of searching for an opening wide enough to immobilize you, and before long, a red cut blossomed on his semi-exposed chest, the injury lazily drooling blood.

The amount of cuts both deep and shallow began to increase, tearing his skin asunder under the weight of your blows. Your scythe repeatedly made contact with the elongated ha of his katana as well as his tanned flesh, but it wasn't enough to deter him completely.

It should have been though, but the many encounters you've had with Roronoa reminded you that he was no ordinary man.

Within that bombardment of the numerous slices and projectile slashes of your scythe Roronoa had found a millisecond of respite, and used that brief pause to leap backwards and put some distance in between you two.

You weren't able to hear the aching cry from the muscles in your arms until after you halted your attack, but the adrenaline flickering in your gaze still raced around your irises unceasingly. Roronoa's own gaze was hard and unyielding, glistening with something you couldn't discern from where you stood. But even so, your body somehow knew to feel like malleable putty under his stare; it's as if it was instinctual.

And again your blades clashed against one another, a steady rhythm rose from the cacophony of noises that were generated from your battle with the swordsman. Your laborious breaths became synchronized with each other, heavy and full of effort. The thin splatters of blood became homogeneous with each other as the both of you took turns cracking each other's skin open. Your limbs moved about and against his in a deft fashion and every nerve in your body reacted to his.

So much so, you didn't even realize when it happened.

Your duel with Roronoa had been in the forefront of your mind entirely that you hadn't actively processed the moment when your ragged breaths turned to breathy pants. Nor did you realize the moment it was no longer a scythe and katanas clashing, but wet lips and warm extremities instead. That same glint that shimmered in your eyes all evening never faded even then; it still twinkled through the murky mist of lust that clouded yours and Roronoa's vision.

Whenever your eyes collided with that of Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, an inescapable battle would always ensue━ it was tried and true, and it felt more like a promise. It was also true, although not externally expressed, that your fight with the mint-haired man was one that neither of you even wanted to evade.

With each brawl you learned something new about Roronoa, and you were repeatedly met with the reality and veracity of his skills, his reputation full-force. And when your brawl eventually led to the languid but hungry removal of each other's clothes, you learned more about Zoro, and the emotions hiding underneath his taut and rugged body. This learning curve was both all-consuming and tenderhearted, and you couldn't help but shiver at the fact you were the only one who could witness it.

And what good is a fight if he didn't learn from and about his opponent as well? Each new thing he unearthed about you was an incentive to further indulge your soft and fleshy curves, and observe how they seamlessly molded with firm, corded muscle. Completely unexpected, Zoro had become utterly fascinated with the warmth that resided under your icy, expressionless glare.

And when Zoro peeled back a new layer, when his lips hovered over an uncharted area of your skin━ hot, breathy, filled with groans of expletives intertwined with your name━ when the grip of his calloused fingers and his heavy cock simultaneously dug deeper into you, one leg dangling haphazardly off his shoulder, when your bodies meshed just like that, you moaned━ you knew you didn't want to stop fighting with him.

Again and again and again with each thrust, each roll of his hips, each sightless grope of your body, you knew you would gladly continue participating in this unspoken competition. You'd proudly don cuts and bruises if it meant you and you alone could have Roronoa Zoro like this. You'd keep at it with enthusiasm if it meant that your hearts would always collide so wholly with each other, not being able to tell where his ended and yours began.

( # ) @icy-spicy @godjo @tetzoro @triangularz @pookiesatoru

[kaciidubs]

telling pillow princess hannie to top you, and so he sits there dumbfounded, unsure of where to even start. as he’s desperately fucking into you, he’s whining and begging you to take the lead again, because it’s just soooo difficult and tiring for him to do all the work </3

PLZ MAKE THIS A DRABBLE / MINI FIC

Nonnie, your brain is AMAZING for this! I'll turn it to a short drabble for now, but perhaps in the future it could expand it into a mini fic! ❣️ ❣ Warnings; Pillow Princess! Jisung, Fem Mean Dom! Reader, decryphilia, begging, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, slight feminization, mommy kink ❣ Additional tags; Han is referred to as Jisung, Sungie, and more, Reader is referred to as Jagi, and Mommy

Telling pillow princess! Jisung to top you would go something like this...

"Y-You want me to what?"

It wasn't that he hadn't heard you clearly, no, not at all, but the words you said almost sounded foreign to him the first go around.

"Fuck me."

Yep, that's exactly what you said.

Of course, he'd wanted to get into your pants the second he came home, his brain going dumb as any and all thoughts centered around you, you, you - but he didn't want the lead, he wanted to be used as per usual.

Jisung was submissive through and through, and though he had spikes of switch tendencies, they all usually ended with him begging to fill you or be filled; body resting beautifully on the crumpled sheets of your shared bed - your dirty little pillow princess.

"I... But... I wanted you to-"

A disinterested hum floated through you as you laid against the bed, taking his place amongst the pillows and blankets, "That's strange, I don't remember asking you what you wanted, Sungie. I told you to fuck me, did I not?"

He whimpered, his already hard dick jumping between his legs at your harsh tone, "Y-Yes, mommy."

"Well, then," you parted your legs further, inviting him toward your glistening cunt, "come and do as you're told, princess."

He tried, truthfully he tried, but the minute his tip sunk past your walls, he was doomed; body shivering with restraint as he tried to think of how to start without fully crumbling to his desire of chasing his orgasm.

Did you want him fast? Slow? Should he have eaten you out first? No, you didn't ask him that - you would've sat on his face without even mentioning it. God, you were so tight, how was he supposed to do this?

"Jisung, if I wanted to cockwarm you, I would've done it myself."

"'M sorry, I just-" An airy moan fell from his pink lips as you purposely clenched around him, shaking hands seeking refuge on your hips, "F-Feels too good, Jagi, I don't know-"

"Move."

He looked up at you with teary eyes, pouting in hopes of coercing you into changing your mind about putting him in control, "Jagi-"

"Move, Jisung."

Heeding your command, he delivered a shallow thrust, eyes fluttering as a wave of pleasure shot up his spine, before he repeated the action again, and again, and again - eventually working himself up to a slow, unevenly paced flow.

Your fingers tweaked at your nipples to provide yourself further stimulation as you watched your adorable sub worked himself into an overstimulated fit.

It was too slow, it was too sporadic, he couldn't fight his full instinct of burying himself to the hilt in order to give fuller strokes and he couldn't take it. He didn't want your guidance, he wanted you to use him like a toy - fold and bend him to your liking and take as much of him as you desired, he was good for it, after all.

"Mommy?" He was defeated, and it didn't even feel like a full ten minutes of him topping, "Mommy, please, I-I can't do it."

A disappointed sigh escaped you, though from the way you were practically dripping around him it was obvious you weren't truly dissatisfied - you loved watching him crumble.

"Are you that much of a needy slut to even take what you want from me? Even after I offered myself up to you so nicely?" Tilting your head, you sized him up with a sharp gaze, "You can't even get yourself off without begging for my help, can you? What a shame, I shouldn't even let you come."

Jisung let out a sob, shaking his head frantically, "N-No! Please, mommy, I need it - I need you!"

Deciding to spare him further turmoil, you nodded your head to the side, "On your back, princess."

Pulling out of you with a whine of disdain, he quickly flopped onto the empty space beside you and watched as you pushed yourself onto your knees; throwing a leg over his lap to straddle him with ease.

"Just so you know," you huffed, hovering above him and watching as that familiar spark glimmered in his eyes, "I'm not stopping until you're dry, you hear me? You want me to use you like the little sex toy you are, fine - I'll use you."

[Unedited]

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

A Deal | Vox x Gen Z Reader

A/N— Decided to turn my little drabble into a little series of one-shots based off of ideas I come up with and any requests y'all may have for it 💅🏻 ALSO a huge thank you to @writteninlunarlight-years for the idea that inspired me to kickstart the series! It's very much 'enemies to lovers' core (kinda, I guess?), but I have no idea how far this will go lol. Hope everyone enjoys this — sorry it took so long :)

Warnings: Reader is implied female, Valentino existing, mentions of souls being owned, reader is close to being an overlord

Word Count: 1,724

Summary: You were a growing threat — and what better way to keep an eye on said threat, than to have you start living under the same roof as three of the most influential overlords in Hell? This is only the beginning. . .

Since your arrival to Hell, things had been nothing short of interesting — from your offers that couldn't be refused, all the way to the demon's that warily approached or backed off when you were near.

It was quite the spectacle.

You were quickly rising within the ranks of Hell, from a mere sinner to damn near an overlord — for all the souls you claimed in a few short months. It was noticeable — your social climbing.

What you hadn't expected was two overlords reaching out in the same day, both itching for some sort of deal.

You'd heard whispers of the feared Radio Demon and practically laughed at the thought of people being scared of him — sure his smile was off-putting, but other than that, you didn't really see the hype.

So when he approached you outside of the Café you'd began to frequent, striking up casual conversation as if you were old friends, you quickly understood what was going on.

He was powerful. You were becoming more powerful. He offered guidance and you knew there was a 'but' coming.

When it dropped, you sighed, before sipping on your warm beverage.

"I can offer you guidance, and in return, I want your soul as a pledge of undying loyalty, my dear!" He made a hand motion, as if he planned on writing your name in the stars — could you even see the stars from Hell?

"I'm sorry — but other than guidance, what do I get out of it? I've done well on my own for the last six months."

Protection. Respect. Free housing. It had almost been tempting — especially the free housing, especially in that economy. . . But in the end, you had told him that you'd think about it.

In reality, you wouldn't.

Giving up your freedom for half the shit you could get on your own? He had you fucked up.

Then there was Vox; the wide open rival of Alastor. You'd actually seen him around, having been in a couple clubs he was coincidentally visiting at the same time.

When he approached you, it was three hours later and you were actively sending a message to the group chat of demons whose souls you owned, over Sinstagram. You were simply reminding them of the consequences if they took the food that CLEARLY had your name written on it.

You didn't care that you were sitting in a restaurant — if any of them touched that leftover sub quarter, you'd kill them, and not in a funny or ironic way. You'd actually kill them double dead with no return. 

When you looked up, he questioned your business with 'the fossil' and was met with a blank stare rather than words.

He clarified that he meant Alastor.

"Oh. I don't have any." You replied simply, reading the few messages that popped up on screen.

At the revelation, he was pleased and began listing off all of the things he could provide that Alastor 'would fail miserably at'.

Money. Protection. Respect. A sounding board for ideas. Anything your heart desired. All at a small cost of being under his surveillance almost 24/7.

That snatched your attention away from the two demons who began arguing in their native languages. Did you understand them? Fuck no. Would you be translating that later? Abso-fuckin-lutely.

"And what's in it for you?" You asked the TV demon. You didn't like the thought of being under surveillance and having little to no privacy, but his deal had already been sweetened by Vox not wanting your soul.

"Power all the way around. With my influence, you can be a billion times better than that staticky prick. You'll practically have demons begging on their knees."

"Tempting." You admitted.

"What do you think?"

"Eh, fuck it. Why the hell not?"

From there it was a flurry of events — you remembered eating, but then you were leaving with Vox and then quickly found yourself in a meeting room with the other Vees and shit you had to sign, stating that you wouldn't spill any details of the inner workings of any of the three companies.

Who did he take you for?

Once you read each document thoroughly, making sure it wasn't a contract for your soul, you signed your name on the tablets screen and sat back in your seat, pulling out your phone to begin translating the argument from the beginning.

"Great! Ground rules — our private spaces are off limits unless we explicitly tell you otherwise, that includes bedrooms, offices, and basically everything that isn't a —"

"Uh-huh, got it." You mumbled — snorting at the beyond creative insults that began to flood the screen in English.

"Listen—"

"It's my nap time, TV boy. If you can put this conversation in a text, do it." You sighed, stretching your limbs. They popped as you stood — who showed these fuckers how to make gifs of each other?

Oh.

You did. HA!

"You know I can kill you, right?" Vox questioned, his claws digging into the table.

"So could a really motivated duck — or a Canadian goose. Those things are straight out of Hell, Box."

"It's Vox." He growled.

Ooh spicy. "Whatever —"

"Can you be serious for five minutes?"

"Ok boomer."

His screen glitched and his claws dug further into the desk as he stared at you.

Velvette barked a laugh and looked away from her phone long enough to see Vox on the verge of malfunctioning, a smirk slipping onto her face. "Can we keep her? I like this one."

"This one's more tolerable than the last." Valentino mused, blowing his smoke into the air. He leaned forward in his seat, uncrossing his legs. "And we don't even know her name."

"The name's Y/N. Don't wear it out." You winked before turning around and exiting the door you had been ushered through, however long ago. The moment the door closed, you heard Vox angrily talking with Velvette and Valentino, who were much calmer than the TV overlord.

Oh, this will be fun. A good idea, for sure.

Thirty minutes later, when you were in the room Vox had told you was yours, both Velvette and Valentino followed you on Sinstagram before adding you to the Vees official group chat.

Your first week living with the Vees went by rather quickly — of course, you respected their privacy as requested, spending most of your time in your room or the common areas which mostly consisted of the kitchen, living room, and game room.

Still, you'd managed to piss Vox off three more times, and got Velvette and Valentino to join in without trying.

Velvette quickly picked up your terminology, calling Vox a boomer at any given opportunity. It pissed him off to no end. Valentino had only done it twice, mostly because they both spent a lot of time working and only interacted with Vox when he had the time to.

Within the first seventy-two hours, you noticed the weird obsession Vox had with Alastor and you sarcastically quoted a scene from a movie at dinner that night.

"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?"

And he had looked at you weirdly, pausing mid rant. Later you had to explain to the other two that it was from a movie — and who Agent Romanoff was.

Vox avoided you mostly, which you chalked up to him thinking you were annoying. Good.

By the end of the first month, Velvette had you chilling with her while she worked, usually with you being the sounding board for her ideas.

More often than not, you had good ideas.

That little fact prompted her to throw you a sketch book, telling you to get to work.

You were getting paid to be there, so whatever.

When you weren't with Velvette, you were declining Valentino's countless invitations to sit with him while he worked — you wanted nothing to do with that. Porn wasn't really your thing, even when you were alive, but you had a bunch of friends who were super into it.

Instead you went out alone, claiming you were getting lunch for yourself. You'd get lunch, after making a few deals with wayward demons who would thrive under your influence.

That one particular day, you hadn't noticed either presence behind you, until a fight broke out, causing you to turn around to see Alastor and Vox going at each other's throats — and not in an interesting way.

You somehow broke it up just after Alastor cracked Vox's screen.

"Why the fuck are you here?" You bit out harshly, directed at the two overlords who now stood three feet apart like scolded children, neither pleased to be there.

"You left without saying anything." Vox crossed his arms.

"You hadn't reached out, my dear." Alastor hummed, distastefully glancing over at the TV demon.

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Listen, get the fuck over yourselves! At this rate, I answer to Velvette, not the two of you boomers. Got it?"

Alastors eyes began to twitch as static filled the air, whereas Vox's cracked screen glitched as you walked away.

Later, when Vox approached you, you noticed that his screen was fixed. That was good.

"Got a minute, [Y/N]?" He questioned.

You looked up from the sketch book in hand and nodded, mumbling 'sure' as you closed it. You were tired from the long day.

So his next question caught you off guard.

"Why do you do this to me?"

"Do what?"

"Why do you purposely piss me off? You get along with everyone else, yet you call me names and disrespect my entire existence. Why?"

You sighed, not really having a real answer. "That's just the way I am, how I've always been. . . And in my defense, I call everyone names. . . Not just you. So, don't think you're special, Box—"

"— Vox —"

"I'm a bitch to everyone, just most don't realize it because their bitch scale broke a long time ago. Now, go. I have shit to do that doesn't involve stroking your fragile ego."

Vox wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he was going to keep a closer eye on you. What was so different about you?

You were close enough in biological age to Velvette, yet while there were similarities, there were so many differences. . . He wasn't sure what to think about any of it. Especially with you climbing up the power ladder.

[dinozarr]

brainrot of simply pussywhipped!gojo me thinks..

† part two.

𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 . . . who wants nothing more than to eat you out religiously. he doesn’t do it simply just to pleasure you, but also because he’s just that obsessed with your throbbing sex. he loves the way your kneading thighs wrap around his head so desperately. how every time you try to pull away and lift yourself from his vigorous tongue, he just pulls you right back down to lick every last droplet of juice that spread across your folds.

⠀⠀⠀⠀he will gladly lie down for hours on end, having you hit numerous orgasms with tears practically embedded into your cheeks. even when you’re doing calming activities such as reading a book in bed, or watching your favorite show; gojo is right there between your legs just slurping up all the juices you leak out. it’s obviously consensual because the man will not lay a hand on you until he hears a bold lettered “yes” come from your mouth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀every time you two do missionary his hands are always placed on your waist with his hips curling ever so diligently that has your eyes rolling so far back that you swear you can see the light. your back arches off the bed with ease, satoru’s opposite hand sliding it’s way to your lower back while he hovers over you and watches how you take every inch of him so well. it was like the universe hand crafted you solely for him and his dick alone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀the way he slides in and out of you with ease, each vein that trails down his sides caressing your walls so deliciously. how his throbbing tip pokes your cervix every few moments, causing that spine chilling knot to form in the depths of your stomach. it doesn’t help when he firmly presses a hand down on your lower abdomen to feel himself inside of you, your hands instantly going to grasping at his wrist with a slight chuckle tumbling from his lips. he watches as you whine and cry from the pressure, his bottom lip tugging between his silver lined teeth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ “atta girl.” he murmurs softly prior to leaning down and catching your lips with his own, his hips picking up the pace just so he can feel your hands press against his chest with your mouth falling open ajar.

NOTEZ : erm !!! hope you guys liked this lil shit cause i have nothing else to post atm and i don’t like how my writing is turning out for the noritoshi drabble so i’m gonna fix it in the morning. anyways ENJOY🫶‼️

ᶻ z Z ! © TAKST4Z — all rights reserved. mature discretion. please do not plagiarize or steal any of my works or graphics.

[ravenquills]

Please Invite Me Again | Amit Thakkar x MC

summary - You accompany Amit to the Astronomy Tower to do homework together, but your blanket is so soft and your sweater is so warm... z z Z

warnings - fluff, drabble, GN!MC

notes - Felt so eepy and uninspired today. Started writing 2 Ominis thingies but not happy with em.... Quick Amit flavored sweet treat before bed because he's the easiest to write for me and I luv him 💙💙💙🥰🔭🌠

word count - 692

At first, Amit refused to let you join him for his astronomy homework, insisting it was too late and too dull. But your charm quickly won him over. After insisting that you’d enjoy doing anything as long as it was with him—along with making use of your well-practiced puppy eyes—he relented.

Even though it was only the beginning of fall and the nights hadn’t turned truly cold yet, you were always cold. You ascended the stairs of the Astronomy Tower with a blanket draped over your shoulders and a pillow clutched to your chest. Beneath the blanket, you carried your book bag over one shoulder and wore the softest, warmest sweater you owned.

Amit chuckled at the sight. “You look as if you’ve brought your whole bed with you!” he said, amused. He invited you to sit beside him near the telescope he was working with. You settled down on the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest and leaning against the railing, your blanket providing a bit of cushioning against the hard floor.

As you had predicted, the air this high up quickly turned much cooler as the night deepened. You were glad to have brought your blanket, which you wrapped more tightly around yourself. Amit teased you about how cozy you looked, clearly a little envious  that he hadn’t thought to bring a blanket as well. You teased him back, playfully offering to share, but he declined.

The blanket served as the perfect shield against the gentle but cold winds that swept through the tower. Having completed more than half of your own work, you set it aside to watch Amit as he continued with his. He alternated between looking through the telescope, consulting his book, and charting something on a scroll. He explained that he was doing homework weeks in advance. “That way, I can spend more time on leisure stargazing instead of assignment stargazing,” he said with a grin.

Feeling the warmth of the blanket and the softness of your pillow, you began to feel drowsy. Resting your head on the pillow against your knees, you leaned against the railing and drifted off to sleep. 

Amit was about to call you over to look at a hippogriff flying nearby, but he stopped when he turned to look at you. The sight of you sleeping soundly, with a peaceful expression on your face, tugged at his heartstrings. He reached out to move a strand of your hair back in place, accidentally grazing his finger against the soft skin of your face. Hesitating for a moment, he gave into his thoughts and gently ran the back of his finger down your cheek to your jaw. Holding his hand beneath your chin, he brushed his thumb lightly over your soft, slightly parted lips. The sight of you like this, with his hands on you, made his imagination run wild with thoughts that would later fill him with guilt.   

Amit quickly withdrew his hand when he felt you stir and shift in your sleep. He scrambled to look busy as you rubbed your eyes and slowly woke up. 

“I’m sorry to have kept you out so late…” he said, glancing at you with an anxious smile, trying his best to hide his nervousness. 

As you both headed back to your dormitory, Amit insisted on carrying your bag. When you reached your destination, you took the bag from him, and as a thank you, you pulled him down for a quick peck on the cheek. 

Amit’s eyes widened in surprise as he stifled a gasp, his hand flying to the spot where you had kissed him, his cheeks growing redder by the second.

“Please invite me again,” you said with a smile, looking back at him as you walked away. Amit stood still for a moment, replaying the moment in his head, his earlier thoughts of you rushing back. Practically skipping back to his dorm, he was overjoyed and overwhelmed with his newfound feelings. 

The next day, Amit approached you and eagerly asked if you’d join him at the Astronomy Tower again. This time, he made sure to bring his own blanket.

[miniimapp]

4☆TOWN - Gingerbread Shenanigans

Gen ;; Fluff - Drabble/Short Story

Warnings ;; None

Proofread + Edited ;; Grammarly coming in clutch once again

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 5 OF THE CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN AND DAY 25 OF ADVENT !! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE <333

i do hope you've enjoyed these short stories and have had a wonderful christmas,, enjoy !!

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

“Gingerbread time!” yells T as he slides down the hallway into the kitchen.

Already waiting by the countertop, Jesse dramatically rolls his eyes, causing Tae Young to stifle a giggle and quickly cover it with a fake cough. They’d spent the morning setting up the kitchen, organising all the necessary tools - bowls of icing, bags of sprinkles, gum drops, candy canes, chocolate buttons - and putting a station together for each member to build at. 

Bounding over to the kitchen table, where the stations were set up, T grins at the others. “Nice work you two, looks very orderly, like something straight out of some baking show!” he compliments. “But where’s Z and Ro?”

“Probably writing together somewhere,” Jesse answers, placing down some protective table covers just in case. “If you don’t mind grabbing them for me, try the bean bags.”

“No problemo, Jess, be back quick as lightning.” T calls, already speeding out of the room.

Soon enough everyone is gathered around the table, suiting up for the kitchen in matching ridiculous aprons, T and Jesse even donning some comically absurd chef hats that towered over their heads.

Clapping his hands together, T's excitement and anticipation practically radiating off him in waves. “Alright, alright, enough waiting around already! Let’s get this show on the road!” His voice has a commanding edge as if he’s about to lead hoards of gingerbread soldiers to victory.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “If you wanted less waiting around you could’ve helped out instead of masking us do all the prep work, you know.”

“But you do it so well.” T returns in mock admiration.

Tae Young cuts in, a mischievous grin already spreading across his face as he announces confidently, “I’m ready to let the games begin. But don’t think I’ll let any of you get away with boring houses, I’m putting together a full-on gingerbread palace.”

“Challenge accepted,” Z replies, eyes narrowing playfully. “Don’t think I’m going down without a fight.”

Robaire scoffs haughtily, “This isn’t about pure technical skill. It’s about imagination, and clearly, I’m the only visionary at this table.”

The table bursts out in a series of eye rolls and snickers, all used to Z and Robaire’s tendency to take any and all perceived competition far too seriously.

“Boys, boys, let’s not forget this isn't a competition,” Jesse tuts, falling back into parental habits as if he were wrangling his actual kids.

“Maybe not for you,” Z counters, a slight edge to his voice, “I’m here to win.”

“What about you, T?” Tae asks, his tone goading, “You got any winning ambitions?”

“Nah, man. I’m just here to slap an edible house together and then feast, no time for competing. I’ve gotta be thinking about the best flavour combos.” T replies solemnly and perhaps too genuinely for some store-bought gingerbread house kits.

“Okay, okay, I can guarantee there’ll be no competition if we don’t get round to actually making the houses,” Jesse counters, putting an end to the discussion. He reaches for one of his house’s walls when he notices no one else is moving. “Go on then.”

As soon as the words tumble from his lips, the table dissolves into a mad flurry of gingerbread house construction, with members already laying claim to certain sweets and stealing them away to their stations to keep for whenever needed.

Starting first, Jesse takes his time assembling the foundations of his house, measuring each wall and securing them with just the right amount of icing to do the trick. Having made gingerbread houses with his kids almost every year since they were born, Jesse’s built up a knack for the assembly of each part and a step-by-step method to creating a simplistic yet perfectly acceptable gingerbread house. In the end, he’s left with a neat, distinctly homemade gingerbread house that feels strangely nostalgic.

Similarly, Z also takes an orderly approach to his building. His house is all clean edges and symmetry like it’s been lifted right off the instruction manual. Even his candy decorations are meticulously placed in pleasing patterns, with perfectly spaced M&M’s forming neat lines and edible star sprinkles arranged carefully on the roof. He may be the only one in the room taking this entirely too seriously, but that’s just how Z rolls, and he’s more than okay with that.

Robaire, on the other hand, was taking a more artistic approach in his gingerbread house assembly, as he did in life. His house may be leaning slightly to one side, and the sides of each slab of gingerbread may not line up perfectly, but the decorations are carefully thought out and executed perfectly. The gumdrops are arranged in a beautiful swirl of colour on the roof in a hypnotising pattern that draws attention far more than any of the imperfections of his build.

After initially attempting to stick the walls together with icing, which ultimately failed, T had tried to resort to superglue before being warned that superglue is not in fact edible. Eventually, T decided on haphazardly piling the gingerbread pieces together and dumping a load of icing over them before dumpling an even larger pile of sweets on top. To all the judging side-eyes he receives, T simply grins and claims “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Tae Young, however, had somehow managed to craft himself some upward extensions and a whole new semi-detached tower out of the sweets laid out on the table, transforming the ordinary gingerbread house into a castle just like he’d promised. There’s a light layer of frosting slathered all over the house, mimicking paint, candy canes used in all the corners as support beams, and gumdrops acting as bushes surrounding the building. Despite the added weight, his foundations don’t wobble or shift an inch.

Noticing everyone’s finished, T leans back, wiping his hands on his apron. “Alright, time for the gallery. Line ‘em up, boys.”

Everyone at the table stands up simultaneously, arranging their gingerbread houses into an orderly line, completely juxtaposing the chaos of the table around them. 

“Alright, we’ll get my midnight snack out the way so we can move on to your little contest, yeah?” T offers, already stepping up to present his ‘house’.

Receiving no complaint, T gestures lovingly to his pile with a large grin. His creation is, at best, abstract, being only a pile of broken gingerbread slabs, fat dollops of icing, and a large helping of sweets dumped over the mess. “I don’t expect any of you to understand the enormity of the beauty you see before you, but worry not, I shall forgive you for your ignorance and allow you to gaze upon it either way.”

Robaire snorts, barely holding it together through T’s dramatics. “You sure that’s not just a pile of whatever you’ve been craving for the past couple weeks?”

Ignoring Robaire, T moves on. “Anyway, now onto the real reason you’re here… the contest.” Pretending to hold a judge’s clipboard, T struts around to line the boys up as well in front of their respective gingerbread houses.

“Who’s up first?” T asks.

First looking around for any other volunteers, Jesse steps forward. “I can go.” Cool and collected as ever, Jesse presents his gingerbread house with confidence. “I’ve kept it pretty simple, classic, if you will,” he says, with a small, approving nod of his own handiwork, “Can’t go wrong with the basics.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Tae comments, clapping for Jesse’s house.

“I'll go next,” Robaire volunteers as Jesse steps back into the line, walking up to show off his creation. He gestures to his colourful masterpiece with pride, despite its leaning walls. “Feast your eyes, everyone. You won’t be seeing art like this again in your lifetime.”

“Not bad,” Jesse compliments, “Definitely a great use of colour.”

Robaire grins at Jesse as he steps back into the line, Z popping out without a word to present his gingerbread house next. He gives it a quick once-over, checking its condition as if he hasn’t seen it for days, detecting no faults he goes on to speak. “Here is mine.”

Jesse whistles lowly at it, impressed by the precision and clear thought put into the house.

“Looks like it was made by a robot,” T whispers loudly, supposedly under his breath despite everyone hearing it.

“Thank you,” Z replies shortly. He always becomes more withdrawn when he gets into competition mode.

“And finally, contestant numero four is Tae.” T announces, gesturing grandly to the table, “Step on up.”

With a proud little grin, Tae bounds over to the table “Behold, losers,” he announces, gesturing towards his palace with great flair and gusto, “Read it and weep.”

Z rolls his eyes as T pretends to swoon, dramatically swooping, “It’s the gingerbread castle of my dreams!” he cries.

The group erupts into laughter, then stands in a line, admiring their work. While it’s clear none of their houses are particularly exceptional - except maybe Tae Young’s, which was definitely something - it doesn’t matter. There are no judges, no prizes, just a group of friends enjoying themselves during the holiday season.

T turns to the group with a grin. “Alright, time for the final decision… we’re all winners here!” he declares excitedly.

With everyone’s gingerbread creations lined up in front of them, the laughter continues. The competition ends, but the real fun is just beginning - snacking on their hard work. With T leading the charge, they dig in, trying to figure out how much of each house they can eat without it all falling apart.

And as the last crumbs get devoured and the last bits of frosting licked from their fingers, the group settles back into their chairs, their laughter still echoing in the kitchen, content in the knowledge that sometimes the best holiday memories are made in the messiest moments.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

i hope you enjoyed <3

[coconi]

A-Z Drabble Practice #17

"Quadrant D clear."

Omega's ocular receptors dim, finishing their nightly perimeter scan. Team Dark's quarters return to darkness.

Voice modulator: off. Proceed with final step.

Moving as quietly as his metallic body will allow, Omega trudges towards the two closed doors on the other side of the apartment. He lingers by each in turn, allowing his sensors to delve and scan past them. Two sets of vitals. Stable. Within normal sleep parameters.

Satisfied, Omega enters his room and slumps against the wall amidst his few possessions: spare ammunition, polish, crane game plushes, a singed photograph…

Mission complete. Initiating scheduled stasis.

(Previous)

[fandom-trash-xl]

Random Drabble: Fish Tank - Piranha Inside

A small drabble I wrote awhile back, featuring a somewhat scrappier Z-Era Kuriza and an alternate reality where Frieza decides he can tag along for Namek, whether that's a good choice or not.

Timeline Placement: Age 762, Mid-Namek Arc

-- This is all becoming one giant mess… Frieza grumbled to himself, attempting to inebriate himself with a consolatory glass of wine. We lost the scouters, we lost Dodoria, and worse… this planet has a monkey pest problem too, trying to steal my wish… Right now, I don't want to hear a word unless it's good news-

"Papa?"

The emperor snapped out of his trance by a soft little whining behind him, his tail immediately cracking against the floor.

"Ah-! I'm sorry!"

Frieza tried to lighten his glare as he turned to face the voice- his son, Kuriza, had insisted on coming along with him to Namek, neither of them knowing that this venture would be this much of a shitshow. The father was initially apprehensive, claiming danger, but he supposed by eight the boy was ready for at least some observation experience.

During their regrouping, Kuriza sat back bored- well, now startled given the hard tail whip- leaning over one of the five Dragon Balls in the room; he was practically the same size as the orb.

"Oh, Kuri, that wasn't directed at you, Papa's just wound a little tight now." He set his glass down and kneeled down to his son's level. "There's really nothing you can help with at the moment, so if you're bored, I suppose the med bay wouldn't mind having you. Can you be out of Papa's way for just a bit? Please, dear?" There was an attempt at affection in his words, a contrast to his eye twitching.

Kuriza sighed, grumbling. "Fine."

"That's my chestnut~" Frieza left a quick peck at the center of his forehead, the boy briefly cringing from being coddled.

As Kuriza slunk off of the surface of the ball and made his way begrudgingly towards the door, Frieza added, "And if you see Mr. Zarbon return, tell him I need a word." The boy, back turned, only responded with a shrug.

I should've left him with his grandfather; he'll just be in the way…

Once out in the hall, Kuriza muffled the first relevant curse word he knew into the overfluffed collar of his navy cape. The med bay was a just as boring place to spend stewing and waiting for something to happen, if not more so. However, to his surprise, the med tank was full of fluid- and, in turn, holding a patient- with that purple grunt, Appule, attending to the controls.

Kuriza boosted himself to see over the next adjacent panel top, elbows on the counter and feet dangling above the ground. "So, who've we got in the gallows this time?"

Appule jolted at a sudden voice. "AH- Prince Kuriza!"

"Relax, I'm not laying on any of the buttons…" Sighing, Kuriza laid his head down on his folded arms. "Now, may I have the answer to my question?"

"Oh, of course. We have that Saiyan, Vegeta, in the tank right now, up for interrogation. Zarbon gave him a good beating for his mouth writing a check his body couldn't cash."

"Hmph…" Kuriza huffed, still partially transfixed on the med tank bubbling in jet columns. Watching it through glass was like watching an aquarium, albeit with less sea plants and corals… and the only creature inside being the deadliest catch: a Saiyan. "Serves him right being humbled like this, he always was a prissy little bitch."

The young prince's "vocabulary" still startled Appule, hearing such words from an eight-year-old, but he reminded himself that this was the son of a hot-tempered emperor, raised adjacent to a military barrack, so he dropped the thought and nodded. "Indeed, my prince."

However, a new wave of concern cropped up, as he noticed Kuriza inching up further onto the counter top to reach the glass pane of the tank, Appule praying none of the buttons he nearly grazed with his torso were too important. Then, as if tempting fate, he started tapping the outer dome of Vegeta's confinement, as if trying to startle a fish.

"Not. So. Smarmy. Now. Huh?" Kuriza teased with each poke, the firmness very telling, as if he had been waiting this whole time to be on top- what Vegeta had done to the boy was unknown to the footsoldier, but it may have been something as petty as calling him a "runt".

"Hey, don't do that, my prince!" Appule nearly paled, silently cursing Frieza for burdening him with this near-aneurism.

"What? I'm not gonna break it-" The prince's tail flicked a singular beat at noticing something- Vegeta's eyes had shot open, rippling the water around it. "Oh, looks like he's awake now!"

Despite Appule's accelerated fear, Kuriza remained smugly smirking. "Rise and shine, monke-" His confidence waned as Vegeta's enraged glare quickly locked on to him and more disturbances rumbled in the tank- bubbles roaring into foam, disguising a faint crackling sound…

"Prince Kuriza, get down!!"

[darkimaginativeplace]

want to do some writing practice, send in a pairing (either for a ship or for a platonic thing) and I’ll try to write a little drabble for it. It can be from either for these fandoms:

- Castlevania (Netflix)

- Jujutsu Kaisen (anime, haven’t gotten into the manga yet)

- Dragon Ball Z

- Gangsta (manga/anime)

[vampyc]

i've been doing drabbles with a plural character of mine, and i very strongly want to do more with it, but it feels like it's practically begging to be a collaborative project atm. the character has very strong amnesia (both in general and when switching), and i think it would add a lot if the perspective of the second host was written by a different person, yk?

i don't really have a plot atm, just a few opening pages that introduce the voice of the character/the setting (which could be easily changed), so now all i need to do is find a plural writer who's willing to develop a story together. e z p z

(i'm gonna have to bite the bullet and just do the whole thing myself, shouldn't be too difficult to do shifting tones by myself anyway. one can dream, lol)

[anika-ann]

Hello bestie! 🩵

For the Dirty A-Z headcanon game:

K - Kissing

O - Outdoor sex

W - Water

With any couple of your choice, you know I love them all. 😘

My GOD, the things this ask did to me 😭 Hello, indeed 💕 and thank you for participating in this ask game!

So, since you let me choose, I wanted to give y'all a peek at how Spectre and Steve's relationship will develop, but then I thought of the other pairing I love indeed and I-

Bosorka and rytier; Knight Steve and his witch!reader 😭 from the story Pomiluj me... I felt inspired✨

So. Three parts to this answer:

A playlist at the end of this ask

Lengthy answer below

AND a 2k drabble posted 🤭✨

See what you did, miss, ma'am!

Since some parts are obviously lemony (18+), I shall put it under cut)

Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

What I feel needs to be said is that any our Knight Steve loves kissing🥺😏 He loves having his mouth on his witchy lover. He kisses soft and light a lot too, but he loves to devour, getting lost in her taste and the scent of her skin, and especially likes to kiss her until he feels and tastes the change in the air, the way it grows heady and sweet, intoxicating – it’s enough to drive him insane with desire and he is all for it. He’s left marks before, but it was not intentional – when he realized, he was part startled and part so damn smug😏

He likes to feel her hands on him and when it comes to lips, it’s not much different, and lips on lips is enough to fall for her all over again. However, he especially enjoys her lips on his ear, when she whispers in old language, words he hasn’t learned yet but sound like the most gorgeous filth, loves to hear her breath hitch, voice crack when he hits just the spot; on his sternum, because that is just so sweet, you kiss him there when you lie together, a soft kiss right over his heart; on his back, between his shoulder blades, on days when she coaxes him to stay longer, not to guilt trip him (he guilts himself enough, thank you very much), but on days when she seems insatiable, lips trailing higher, to the side of his neck, hands wandering and he rarely ever says no to that (he still has duties he takes very seriously, even if it tears his heart apart and it quite literally hurts to get up an dress into pants); he loves the sight of you kissing down his treasure aril for sure; and lastly, you have a sweet habit of kissing his hands, a compliment to their softer side despite their strength💕🥺

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

Going to connect these two, because pool, bath and shower sex is not quite an option for this couple… a lake though, a slow river, well. Now we’re talking. That's what the drabble will be about 👀

Knight Steve would say most definitely no to outdoor-aka-water, because witch or not, she is still his lady, and it is enough that he’s loving her, as in is her lover, without properly wedding her, so anywhere where people could see his beautiful lady naked and--- no. However. When there’s no one in sight and the probability is insane ow they will appear… he is only human and she is. So. Damn. Beautiful. And the forest is so much of her home that it might as well be inside, yes?

I’m thinking that the first time it happened, rain caught them unexpectedly. Steve, the gentleman, the Knight he is, rushed to give her his cloak at least as she was left standing, genuinely shocked by the sudden downpour. But before he can reach her, she turns around and he sees her practically glow with awe and glee, chuckling and giggling in a way he had never seen before, smiling so wide, chest expanding with generous breaths and she tipped her head back, revelling in feeling of the rain on her skin, soaking her clothes and… Steve had never seen anything more enticing, anything so gorgeously alive. So he approached her, cloak still in hands, now soaked too the bone too, water dripping down his beard and longer hair and they looked at each other for a few beats, before he dropped the cloak and cradled her face and kiss her; had had planned a light kiss, a wordless you’re beautiful, but the moment their lips met, they started devouring, hands grasping, grabbing, shedding the completely unnecessary and completely useless heavy clothes (even if they cling to her breasts so nicely, accentuating the stiffened peaks he ran his fingers over and over before stripping you) and… well.

I'm 🫠🫠🥺 ANYWAY. EHM. Spotify link and list of youtube links for those without spotify below.

Thank you for asking, love 😭💕

Faun - Sonnereigen Faun - Gold and Seide Vesna - Pomiluj mě Ekaterina Shelehova - Savage Daughter Eivør - Trøllabundin John Lunn, Eivør, Danny Saul - Blood Will Prevail Faun - Aufbrunch Faun - Walpurgisnacht Čechomor - Zlocin (Crime) (can't find my fav version that's on spotify) Vesna - Běžela jsem lesem Vesna - Bílá laň (that version but with THIS gorgeous visual 😭) Vesna - Voda