#i had this scenario in my head so i finally wrote it 😛

[lovelykil]

(older ver)

both of you stand in front of the bathroom mirror with a sweatshirt on and some pj pants, you take a long good look at that glass.

"how do you have a smaller waist than me?" You put your hands on your hips, observing. killua is fixing his hair but he is completely caught off guard by your weird question

"what.."

"how is this possible, you're literally a MAN." you cross your arms, pouting. he looks at you, scans your body, then looks back at the mirror

"maybe 'cause I actually work out when I'm supposed to." He leaves you speechless, and not in a good way.

he's running his fingers through his silver hair with a smirk as you pout.

"you're so annoying."

"who has the slim waist in this relationship again?"

[chronoghoul]

I loved ur velvette x muscular gf scenario SM ty for the food cus it fed me well 🤭 I have another one shot request cus you write so well I just had to (*≧∀≦*)

Idk if what I’m asking for is too complicated or not but what about velvette w a female reader who’s also an overlord (who’s more powerful than velvette), the two of them basically have a rivals relationship and claim they hate each other but they’re obviously in love

(Bonus points if you can make reader sassy/dominant/confident and velvette being into that) like I’m imagining dom mommy like reader in a business suit and velvette as the loud, bratty type (readers doll)

Ty for listening to me rant about my brain rot ≧﹏≦

- ✨🌷

╭﹒⊹⋆﹒ @ 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑 2024.

୨ ,, vel x dominant/sassy fem!reader, powerful!overlord!reader .ᐟ

𖦹 ｡° note : I'm always happy to see people requests again! I'm glad you loved my writing, honestly I wrote this faster because I'm extremely motivated after finding out there's no school on Monday so 😛, sorry if it seems sloppy or rushed I didn't really proof read any of this 😭 lmk if I made mistakes 𖥔 ݁ ˖.°. ⭑

﹒｡ꔫ﹒wc : ~740+

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭

The clack of your heels echoes down the marble corridor, each step resonating with purpose. Demons part around you like water, bowing or averting their eyes, anything to avoid drawing your ire. The seat of power was yours, and you'd ensured everyone knew it.

Everyone, that is, except her.

Velvette sits at the far end of the room, lounging with a casual defiance in a sprawl that somehow manages to convey boredom, confidence, and provocation all at once. The moment her eyes lock onto yours, her lips pull into a smirk—cocky and lazy, like she’s sizing you up for her next meal.

"Well, well," she drawls, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Look who finally decided to join us. The Big Boss herself." Her tone is dripping with faux respect, each word deliberately crafted to rile you.

You narrow your eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “Charming as ever, Velvette. I see you’re still living in that delusion of relevance.”

Her grin widens, and you know you’ve hit exactly where you aimed. But it only makes her eyes gleam with mischief, a dare, a challenge. “Relevant enough to get under your skin, darling.”

The word rolls off her tongue like honey, sticky-sweet and thick with mocking affection. You exhale, smoothing down your tailored suit—a crisp, dark cut that fits you like a glove. It's all part of the role, the image you’ve meticulously crafted: cold, untouchable, powerful.

Velvette’s eyes linger on the lapels of your blazer, her gaze tracing every inch of the material down to where it hugs your waist. Her stare feels like a caress and a taunt at the same time, challenging you without words.

“Like what you see?” you murmur, tilting your head, voice low and condescending. You give her a pointed once-over, letting your gaze sweep slowly, a silent reminder of the hierarchy here. “Or just wishing you could handle it?”

A scoff. “Please,” she sneers, rolling her eyes in that dramatic way of hers, but there’s a blush creeping up her neck. “You know I’m just wondering how much of that bravado would last if I ever got my hands on you.”

“Oh?” You fold your arms, letting one eyebrow lift in mock curiosity. “And how, exactly, would you plan on handling me, Velvette?”

She leans back further, arms crossing over her chest as her gaze never wavers from yours. “Depends,” she purrs, voice dropping an octave. “Do I get to see what’s under that perfectly polished armor, or are you all bark and no bite?”

The tension between you is electric, sparking with the intensity of every unspoken dare. You both hold each other’s gaze, neither willing to blink first. This is the game you play, day after day—a clash of wills, power, and something much deeper neither of you wants to admit.

Stepping closer, you let your presence fill the room. Velvette’s smirk falters just for a heartbeat, and it’s enough to satisfy you. Reaching out, you tug lightly on the front of her outfit, pulling her just close enough that she can feel the breath ghosting off your lips. She stiffens, her eyes widening briefly before she schools her expression.

“Admit it, Velvette,” you whisper, voice a deadly calm. “This little act of yours? It’s all for show. You’d break if I even touched you.”

Her laugh is a low, throaty chuckle, but there's a sharp edge to it now. She’s on the defensive. “I’d love to see you try.”

You lean in, lips barely grazing her ear. “Careful what you wish for,” you murmur, voice thick with menace and promise alike. “You’re not ready for what I could give you.”

There’s a moment of stillness where all you hear is her breath catching, her heartbeat quickening. And then, as though reclaiming the upper hand, Velvette pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. She smirks, but it’s less certain now, her bravado cracking ever so slightly.

“Maybe I’m the only one who could actually handle you, darling,” she breathes, voice tinged with something vulnerable, something genuine.

You feel a pang of something unfamiliar. But you don’t let it show. Instead, you release her and straighten, giving her one last smug glance.

“We’ll see,” you say, turning on your heel. "Maybe next time you’ll find the courage to do more than just talk."

As you walk away, you feel her eyes on you, burning into your back. And somehow, you know this isn’t the end. Far from it.