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#just the way they move and look at things and the paths the characters are expected to take feel extremely childish
neighborlystudios · 9 hours
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・﹒・ two roads
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Summary: After your father racked up a huge bounty on him from being the leader of a crime gang, you finally got the courage to kill him. However, the Ghoul arrives intending to kill him unaware the man was already dead. He gives you two options- let him have the bounty and he'll offer you protection if you come with him, or be alone and at risk for other unsavory people to hunt you down.
Warnings: 18+, suggestive content, death, blood, coercion, flirty Cooper
Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x GN!reader
Notes: H! I am now in the Fallout fandom thanks to the show. My only experience with Fallout was the mobile game Fallout Shelter lmfao played that on and off since 2017. Started a new vault tho! I got some show characters including The Ghoul >:)
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Blood dripped down the knife as you stared at his lifeless corpse, your form hunched over, breathing heavy, eyes wide and frenzied, hair sticking up all over the place, staring down at the body as the red liquid stained and soaked into the floor beneath him.
You finally did it.
He wasn't a good father, but your mother helped curb his less savory habits. Well, she was gone now.
You only stayed with him out of obligation, but as the days wore on, so did he. He was born and raised up here, however your mother was a genuine Vault Dweller who left her vault and made a new life up here.
Including dating your father.
He started a small gang purely to find the people that had killed her, and ended up becoming one of the fiercest crime gang leaders in California. There was a high bounty on him and he was always on alert. Not around you though.
It was an easy stab to the heart.
You had never killed anyone before though- but your dad was the one who had raised you to protect yourself.
How ironic.
But you weren't a killer. You weren't used to being able to take someone's life with your own hands.
Things change.
You still could have sworn time stopped as you didn't move, still staring at the corpse. Should you feel bad? Guilty? Regret? Maybe. But you didn't. He wasn't a perfect father, you couldn't care less.
You didn't know how much time had passed before you heard the creaking of the front door open and steps on the floor. Whipping your body to face the source with the still bloody knife at the ready, the thing that walked through the door wasn't what you expected.
"Well now, it seems like I was too slow this time, usually I ain't" You heard of him, who didn't? He was a cowboy, ghoul bounty hunter- and the best in the country. You just didn't think he would ever cross your path despite your parents being involved with people like him. He was more a myth to you.
"Not much of a talker, eh? You his child I assume?" Still in shock over everything, you gave him a small nod as you must still look frenzied. He chuckled as he walked closer, yet you didn't move one inch, even as he gently grabbed your wrist that was holding the knife and tossed it onto the floor, plucking it from your hand with ease. You just watched as he smirked.
"Your first kill is always the roughest, don't worry though- you'll get used to it"
"Don't kill me" You meant to sound louder, firmer, it just came out as a whisper, a plea. Shaky, you watched as he just chuckled at your weakness. You may have just killed someone, but that didn't mean you didn't feel trauma from it.
"I ain't gonna kill ya, but I am claiming that bounty. Runnin' low on caps, I'm sure ya understand" A small part of you felt a bit calmer from his voice, you liked it in a very special way, but the survival part of your brain was stronger than the hormonal part, so you couldn't fully take it. You were still in shock after killing your father, after all.
"But- but I need those caps more" His eyebrow raised as he took you in, looking up and down, and it made you shiver in a way that wasn't out of fear.
"Oh really now? How about this-" He released you, causing you to stumble back a few steps and cradle your thankfully uninjured wrist.
"You let me have the bounty and I'll protect ya, meaning- you come with me" You narrowed your eyes at the last part. Protect you?
"Against what? Against who?" He was silent, telling you that it was something you certainly weren't dumb enough not to realize. After some time, it finally hit you"
"My dad's men..."
"Are not gonna be too happy to see their leader gone, killed by his only child nonetheless" The realization made your blood freeze, chills ran up your spine as you knew exactly who would go after you first and exactly how he would kill you.
"I can survive...I'll find a way" You were lying to yourself as there was no way you could live against your father's gang, but you didn't want to be protected by a stranger- who was a ghoul not to mention.
"Ok then" He stood right in front of you and leaned down- face only inches away- and put his mouth right next to your ear. Yet again, you shivered at his closeness, tingles going down your spine and at the same time, you could sense that something changed within him then.
"Don't come crying for me when you're bleeding out shot up like a shooting range" He whispered before slightly nipping at your ear and slowly pulling away, gauging your reaction. Heat consumed your entire face as you now felt the signs of arousal present in your body. Staring at him, you felt the overwhelming sense of attraction start to fester. Fuck- was he genuinely into you, playing some twisted game just to fuck with you, or trying to further manipulate you?
"I get a cut, seventy percent" Your voice was so shaky, between the arousal and the fact that he knew exactly what buttons to push, you couldn't believe you were going along with this. With him. But his face lit up at your inference of agreeing to let him protect you.
"Fifty" You then got right up to his ear, just like what he did.
"Sixty and final offer"
Hook.
"Or else I'll take my chances"
Line.
You bit his ear, giving it a small lick before pulling away.
Sinker.
His breath hitched as he looked at you with eyes full of nothing but lust and curiosity. He then suddenly grabbed your shoulders and slammed you against the closest wall, his lips ghosting yours. Your heart was hammering out of your chest as you waited in bated breaths, arousal spiking your sex.
"Come. With. Me" He was firm, but not angry. He was more...pent up, growing frustrated with you throwing back what he was giving you. You could tell he was hard without looking down.
"Something tells me there's a specific reason you want to protect me, isn't there, Ghoul?" Despite only knowing each other for less than ten minutes, you already felt comforted in his hold, and you both knew how to get under the other's skin.
The attraction was- self assured- mutual and instant.
Neither of you could or would deny it, just never admit it directly.
Instead, it would linger in the air, charged like lightening.
"And if so?" Now that the earlier tension was gone, you could fully take in all forms of him, including his accent. That accent was old, very old, so old that had to of been from pre-war. Nobody spoke like he did.
Nobody.
"I'll pack my things" Pushing him away, you walk towards your bedroom to gather a bag when you passed by your father's body and stopped.
"By the way- what part of him did they want?"
"The head"
"Go ahead, just please cover it. I...I don't want to see it" Shaking your head to rid you of that thought, you let him do...that as you ignored the sounds of mutilation as you put your best and favorites into a backpack. You were very selective about what you brought, since you know would forever be moving around. Going out into the main room again, you were surprised at what you saw, or rather, lack of. Instead of just covering the head up in some makeshift bag, he draped a curtain he ripped off from one of the rods and laid it over his body.
"Thought you didn't want to see it again at all. Now let's go, we're wasting daylight" The ball of fabric that was now connected to his belt swayed back and forth as he exited through the front door, stopping right before he walked onto the sand after he realized that you haven't moved.
"You comin'?"
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joelswritingmistress · 12 hours
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Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 10
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Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz
Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)
Setting: Camp Crystal Lake
The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone.
Hiking was liberating that morning. Everyone was together talking and laughing under the cover of the trees, and it was a great start to the day.
Joel turned and motioned to a tree with a small, blue streak on it. “This is the blue trail,” he explained, “It's the easiest one and goes right around the lake in a circle.”
“Are there any other trails?” Vicky asked.
“White and Red,” Joel replied, “White is a little off the beaten path, and Red is the toughest. Don't take the red with the kids because you don't want to end up lost.. or in a bed of poison ivy.”
“Are we going to check those out today?” Sandra asked him.
“If there's time maybe we’ll check out the white trail.”
I glanced out toward the lake as we hiked adjacent to it. The blue trail never lost sight of the water, so it truly was the safest bet. The last thing I wanted was to get lost in the endless collection of trees - so I figured going forward I'd just stick to the beginner paths.
“Hey look!” Scott motioned through the trees and all of us stopped to see what had caught his attention.
“Tell me it's not a bear,” Teri groaned.
“No, look.” Scott continued to point, “The old cabins.”
“Camp Blood,” Mark spoke, glancing over his shoulder at Joel as he helped to wheel him over the uneven landscape.
“We're all going to get hauled in by the local police,” Ted joked.
“Just keep moving,” Joel urged. “I understand the urge to go over there but it's off limits for a reason.”
“You don't really believe in those Jason stories do you?” Jeff asked him.
“I don't believe Jason is alive, no,” Joel said, “But those cabins are decades old and haven't been maintained. The last thing you want is to be inside and the roof caves in.”
“What about outside,” Sandra asked, to which he just gave her a look of disapproval. “Okay, okay. We understand. Off limits.”
“Thank you,” Joel continued to lead the way and when he huffed a breath, Vicky offered to jump in and help Mark.
“I can take over,” she offered.
“You sure?” Joel asked.
She nodded and shared a smile with Mark. The red football jersey he wore sparked her interest and they began talking about his college football career he’d had prior to a motorcycle accident that left him in the wheelchair.
I eavesdropped a bit, feeling a bit melancholy for the way things had panned out for Mark; though his optimism regarding the situation almost immediately made me feel better. When he and Vicky shared a little hand squeeze I turned my attention elsewhere.
“Hey.” Joel slunk in beside me and we dropped to the back of the pack.
“Hey.” I smiled at him.
“You, uh.. you okay with everything that happened?” He asked quietly.
“I'm so okay with it that I wouldn't mind doing it again.”
Joel laughed quietly and eyed another blue streak on a tree as we continued to walk. “I think I can arrange something for when we get back.”
“Oh yeah?” He had my full attention now.
“Yeah.” His hand discreetly rested on my lower back and I felt a rush of adrenaline.
I bit my bottom lip and leaned into him for a moment, smirking when his hand gave my butt a squeeze and he kissed my temple. We parted from one another immediately after. From that small interaction, my world suddenly got a little brighter - and I was already in a great mood. The whole ordeal was so out of character for me but I was loving every minute of it.
On the walk back, Joel led us through a shortcut that led up to the mess hall.
“I wonder if Annie’s back yet,” he said aloud, wiggling the door handles that led inside. When he saw they were secured and nothing looked out of place, we continued on our walk back to the main cabin.
My eyes landed on a sheet of white paper by the edge of the woods and I saw a list of different foods printed inside of a spreadsheet. I was tempted to retrieve it but as the group kept pace, I chose not to stop.
“Okay,” Joel said, putting his hands together. He turned to face us when we were nearly back, “Get yourself something to drink or a little snack and I’ll get us down to the camper cabins with some paint. I’m putting two per cabin for now and we’ll see how it goes.”
“Yes, boss,” Ted said for all of us and led the way into the main cabin to retrieve some water. After a few short minutes we made the short trek through a path in the woods that led to a collection of cabins that were centered by a pair of sand volleyball courts. Joel’s pickup truck was already parked nearby and he was lugging ladders and paint cans to each of them.
“Chipmunk Bunk,” Scott read aloud as he placed a hand on the chipped, green siding.
“You and Mark can have the Chipmunks,” Joel said to him with a nod as he heaved a ladder against the side of the house.
“Chipmunks!” Mark pumped his fist.
Jeff draped an arm around Sandra's shoulders. “We can take the, uh..” he squinted his eyes until he could make out the next cabin’s wooden label. “.. The Bear Cave.”
Joel nodded. “You can work together if you promise not to wander off to Camp Blood.”
Jeff crossed his heart and Sandra put up her hand with a nod. “Promise,” they said at the same time.
“Okay.” Joel nodded and I smiled to myself when he assigned Teri and Vicky to The Fox Hole.
And then there was me.. and him.
Joel held out a hand and maintained eye contact. “Would you accompany me to The Wolf Den?”
I looked around the immediate area and smiled back at him. I placed my hand into his. “I'd be honored.”
Joel didn't waste time playfully towing me in through the cabin’s screen door. Our lips were locked the second the door slammed behind us and my shirt was thrust up over my head a second later.
“Mmm..” I moaned into his mouth when my back hit the linens of a twin bed.
“I just can't get enough of you.” Joel breathed out the words as he took a break from kissing me to take a breath.
“And the summer has barely even started,” I whispered back, accepting another intense kiss as his hand sank below the waistline of my shorts. I took a deep breath, but my lip and closed my eyes.
“Go!” I heard the word from a vaguely familiar voice outside, followed by another very familiar voice shouting, “Joeeeel.” It didn't seem overly urgent but urgent enough.
Joel stopped and pushed up onto his hands as he hovered above me. His expression was instantly bothered and as he shook his head, his eyes closed.
“What is it?” I asked quietly with a hand still snaked around his shoulders. I heard Jeff’s voice summoning Joel a second time and then a series of endless babbling from the other voice.
“It's fucking Ralph.” He climbed off of me and got himself together. “I'll be right back.”
@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137 @bbiophiliaa @littleblackcatinwonderland @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz @beltzboys2015-blog @lwfics @pedropascal111 @itscatrodriguez-thepearl
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kaaragen · 2 days
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So, I've been mulling it over, and I now have my considered thoughts on Tales of the Empire!
First Morgan and then the bit that matters.
I thought Morgan's segment was entertaining, and I liked learning about another Dathomiri clan. But for real, she's never beating the 'damn we shouldn't have killed Pryce' allegations XD. And that's the problem. The whole thing had a feeling of canon welding, as the airplane rattles apart at 30,000 feet. Perhaps most egregious is the explanation for how she met Thrawn. Apparently, she's behind his favoured TIE fighter design! Does she have any knoweldge of engineering, orbital mechanics, astrophysics or anything else that might enable her to look at a TIE fighter and say 'hey, I know how to improve that!' If she does, the show has no interest in telling us.
Then there's the whole wanting revenge thing. Why? Againts whom? For what purpose? The only thing she takes revenge on in the episodes is a forest, and what did that do to her?
Okay, now the main event: Barriss.
I set my expectations really low, so nearly anything would pass it. Acknowledging that, I'd say this was about the best I would have hoped for given the constraints of canon, Filoni and such. It was really nice getting to see Barriss being the idealist, sticking to her values and having the courage to say no when it became clear where the Inquisitorious was going. And she never fully bought into it, showing she has learned from her prior experience. As a friend pointed out, even when she choked Dante her eyes never turned yellow.
Seeing her as a Jedi Master at the conclusion also felt special, and not going ot lie, I did shed a small tear when I saw her free and at peace with herself after so long. And I love the fact that she defeats Lyn, not with badass lightsabre moves, but by being relentlessly kind and compassionate. Or, essentially, allows Lyn to defeat herself and so open the path back for her. It's a rare display, in Star Wars, of a character actually using the Force for knowledge and defence and not attack.
I loved the implication the reconciled with Ahsoka and made her peace with Luminara. And I don't mind those not being shown on screen; honestly I'd prefer they get time devoted to them in a novel or a comic, rather than 2-5 minutes in what are some already quite rushed episodes.
I'm 80% sure she's dead, and honestly I'm okay with that. She died to save a child and redeem a nobody (in meta-terms with Lyn), and there's something truly Jedi in that. There's something beautiful in that.
That said, there are two caveats.
The first is on Ahsoka. I'm getting increasingly frustrated with the way that Barriss' importance to Ahsoka is getting airbrushed out of the story. Because it is an important component. What sells Ahsoka on leaving the Order is not just the Council's lack of faith it's because she agrees with Barriss. Not in the method she chose, but in her critqiue yes. How can she not? She's just seen her good friend, a paragon Jedi in her eyes, fall to Darkness in fear of what the Order was becoming and she never suspected a thing.
And from Barriss' side the persistent question is why did she target Ahsoka and no one else? I'm starting to suspect that Filoni has worked out that only reasonable answer to this one is Barrisoka one and because he's allergic to writing relationships (a friend pointed out how much he seems to dislike physical displays of affection in his stories), but also specifically with reference to Ahsoka.
The second is on the bombing, and murder of Letta and clone troopers. Like, I'm happy that eleven years later it's been decided that having the Muslim-coded girl become a terrorist was a bad move. And I'm happy to take Barriss' gentle portrayal here as something of an apology note. But ultimately, Filoni made that decision so he doesn't get to employ fanfic rules to handwave it.
And the thing is, addressing it in the text would make the arc stronger. Because it's a fascinating flaw in Barriss' character that, for all her idealism, piety etc. when push came to shove she was too afraid to take the role of martyr and got someone else (willing or not) to do it. We need to see her grapple with that fear and work through it. We do see a strain of this (she does initially turn a blind eye to Lyn's massacre of the vilalge), but it's not really developed. Because it makes her triumph at the finish all the more important.
Barriss at the finish is not a Jedi Master because she can dance around lightsabre blades and spout wisdom laced in sarcasm (though those are cool!). She's a Jedi Master because she's transferring (so it's implied) her life energy to heal others. She's a Jedi Master because she allows herself to potentially be sacrificed to guide another back to the Light.
She's a Jedi Master because she's finally surpassed her fear and let go of her final attachment.
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ruthlesslistener · 1 year
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Curious to hear why you see Ghost, in-game, as acting like a child. (/gen, neutral tone)
It's mostly the fact that they're a very curious entity who, much like a child explores everything with their mouth, explores the world around them with their nail. Obviously how a player controls them affects their behavior, but that doesn't account for stuff outside the player's control, such as the fact that Ghost can break stalagtites/mites, fossilized bugs, and sculptures, as well as break signposts or damage architecture. They know how to control it well enough to not hit friendly npcs (or their mom, for some reason), but they'll still hit the grubs or kill Menderbug, and those moments give a very heavy sense of mistake, like they weren't sure of the connotations of their actions until they happened. They also flail about in a panic when they fall into acid, they get mad at Millibelle and the Pale King and beat them up in a fit of spite, and their fighting style compared to Hornet and the Hollow Knight is an unpracticed mess of swings and blobby spells, basically like what you'd expect from a child with a sword. They are easily fooled by things that lure their curiosity, like Nosk, and are also very, very attatched to their siblings. They didn't come back to Hallownest because they wanted to save it- they did so because Hollow called to them, and Hollow is their sibling. Coming across the Broken Vessel also seems to be very impactful to them (especially since the game encourages you to try to kill the lightseeds before they can control their corpse), and the whole sequence with Hornet in Greenpath is meant to emulate them going '!!!' and making a mad dash for her, which is very juvinile in nature. And we know that they come to care deeply for Hornet, too, because the winged nosk in Godhome takes her form, and they only do that to a bug's loved ones. They have that very linearly-focused, not-so-big-picture sort of drive that feels like how a kid might act even though we can't really see their thoughts. Which, sure, you can argue that an adult character might act like that as well, but the way that Ghost deals with things just gives off a major vibe of naiive, childlike clumsieness, especially when compared with their siblings.
(Also select npcs like Mato, Ogrim, and hell, even WL after her perception on them is challenged speaks to them in what I'd consider to be appropriate to a child. It's not like toddler talk or anything, but it's similar to how I'd speak to a very solemn 8-year-old with a sword and a mission, which helped contribute to that vibe. Not all npcs do this, but I'd def. blame the diversity of insect sizes and their eerie vessel nature for that.)
I think they're supposed to give off a mix of 'eldritch being who knows more than they should' as well as 'child with a sword', tbh. They're not in toddler territory, and they're obviously not analagous to a human child- more a kitten, really, or one half of a set of haunted twins- but they're still very much a child. I kinda think they give off that specific vibe from that one child jesus comic floating around tumblr (where he's spouting off full bible verses despite being like, six), in that they know far more than they should and have a soul older than you'd expect, but they're also like, 8. A very serious 8-year-old, but still 8.
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blacktabbygames · 6 months
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hey did you know that slay the princess is out now? did you know it's on sale with a 10% launch discount until november 2nd? do you want to spend several hours getting sternly lectured by and annoying jonathan sims?? well this is your game i think it's good and you should buy it but don't listen to me look at that 91 metascore—and for us, just a couple of lil guys make a game with no gameplay other than click dialogue options! idk must be fun
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“An existentially horrific visual novel, with an incredibly well-written plot, a beautiful score and graphics that will enrapture all senses. One of the best narrative games of 2023.” 10/10 – Voxel Smash
“There isn’t a single thing I don’t like about Slay the Princess. The presentation is beautiful, the story is fantastic and moving, the voice acting of amazing characters is done phenomenally well, and the branching paths of the story give you what feels like unlimited possibilities.” 10/10 – Try Hard Guides
“Slay the Princess will stay with you for a long time, I think. It’s absurdist and dark and haunting in a way that not a lot of games are. If you have an itch for something that’s spooky but also morally confronting and you will be thinking about it for days to come, it’s impossible not to recommend this.” A- – Player 2
Anyways more seriously truly from the bottom of our hearts thank you all so much for making this launch a world-shifting experience for us! We can't wait to share more games with you, starting with Episode 5 of Scarlet Hollow 👀
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writers-potion · 1 month
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Storyediting Questions to Ask
As You Read the First Draft:
Are there place that surprised you as you read your first draft? - Why do you suppose that is? - Is there material there you'd like to expand?
What are the character really doing in this story? - Might they have issues you haven't explored fully yet?
Look to the places that drag. - These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. - What are the characters really thinking in these places? - What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?
Imagine alternative plotlines. - How might your plot be different if ti headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? - You don't have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.
Think About Structure:
Does you story play out naturally in three acts?
Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead's world?
Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?
Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?
Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?
Does the rhythm of the sotyr match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?
Are there strongly motivated characters?
Have coincidence been established?
Is something happeing immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, onfronted with change or threat?
Is the timeline logical?
Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?
About Your Lead Character:
Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot?
A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?
Does this character avoid cliches? Is he capable of surprising us?
What's unique about the character?
Is the character's objective strong enough?
How does the character grow over the course of the story?
How does the character demonstrate inner strength?
About Your Opposition:
Is your oppositing character interesting?
Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?
Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?
Is he believable?
Is he strong as or stronger than the Lead?
About Your Story's Adhesive Nature:
Is the conflcit between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?
Why can't they just walk away? What holds them together?
About Your Scene:
Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?
Is there enough conflict in the scenes?
What is the least memorable scene? Cut it!
What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?
Does the climactic scene come too fast (through a writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it's worth?
Does we need a new minor subplot to build up a saggin midsection?
About Your Minor Characters:
What is their purpose in the plot?
Are they unique and colorful?
Polishing Questions:
Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?
Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?
Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.
Are there enough surprises?
Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?
Read chapter ending for read-on prompts
Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?
Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?
For a Dialogue Read-Through:
Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines.
In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don't give one character all the good lines.
Greate dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.
Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even emong allies?
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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pray4byron · 3 months
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What the…
HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …
PARTNERS !! (and before that!)
Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute
Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread
Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!
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Charlie Morningstar
Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…
Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.
Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc
Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.
She believes that it has its perks, which it does.
Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.
But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …
Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!
You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!
Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.
Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.
You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.
And yes, you do feel the same.
Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.
GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!
GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.
At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.
But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)
GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!
On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things
But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha
At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol
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Vaggie
When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?
Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.
Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.
The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her
Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.
So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.
When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!
Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!
GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)
You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha
At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.
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Angel Dust
Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.
But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?
Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.
Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…
One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!
And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…
Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?
And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.
“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”
And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.
The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.
“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”
The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!
Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.
BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!
And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.
Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.
And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.
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Alastor
When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.
He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.
Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.
He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.
Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!
So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.
BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.
But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.
If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.
But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.
By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.
BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.
And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.
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Sir Pentious
Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.
But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.
You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.
This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.
Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.
“Pen.”
“I like you too.”
“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”
Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…
Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!
BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!
So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?
BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!
BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!
Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!
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Husker
Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.
Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?
You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.
It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”
And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.
So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”
And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”
From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!
BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.
BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.
He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.
‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.
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Niffty
Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.
Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.
So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.
GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.
She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.
Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.
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Lucifer Morningstar
Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.
You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.
Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.
Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.
BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.
BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.
BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.
If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.
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Adam
Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…
Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).
During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…
Hey hot babe,
wanna do more than just fuck? (date)
And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.
BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.
I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!
At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)
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Lute
Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.
And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.
Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.
But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.
And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.
GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)
Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!
— END.
Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)
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Text
My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?
Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.
Steve is there to fix that.
One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.
He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.
He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.
Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?
And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").
And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"
"Eddie."
Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"
They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.
They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:
"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"
"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."
"What about a funeral?"
"It puts fun in a funeral."
"Touché."
They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."
And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.
They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.
And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."
Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."
...
Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.
Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:
STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?
EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!
STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.
EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!
And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.
But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.
"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."
Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.
Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"
Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.
The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.
Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.
No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").
Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.
The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.
Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.
But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.
The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...
Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...
"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.
There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.
And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"
The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.
"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"
Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.
"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."
Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"
Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"
"You already paid me, Eddie."
"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."
"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."
"I'm listening."
Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"
And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.
"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."
It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.
Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.
They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."
And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?
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yawnderu · 26 days
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I'm sorry but being with simon at the beginning of a relationship would be so awkward.💀
Like...
You can't take pics, you can't know about his routine, you can't know about his work and so goes on.
So or are you with him for the cock or because you have the syndrome of falling in love with strange men
>This turned into a mini character study. 😔🗣️
Good dick has taken you places you wouldn't even go to with a gun.
Simon is a kind man. Truly, he is. He's just... slightly strange. You don't know much about him other than the fact that he has served in the military— something he never even told you, you simply guessed by the dogtags he never takes off and the plethora of scars adorning his pale body, a privilege you didn't get until he realized he could trust you... for the most part.
For a man like Simon, vulnerability was nothing but a highly-desired privilege. Something he wouldn't allow himself to have ever again, hiding his face under different masks that caused the reactions he was looking for— intimidation and fear, the skulls doing nothing more than serving the purpose of representing all he was, a ghost. A man who died a long time ago, way before he was tortured by the greedy, cruel hands of Manuel Roba.
It's not that Simon doesn't love you, he simply doesn't know how to allow himself to be vulnerable. How to put down the walls he spent a lifetime building, serving as shelter from his father's abuse, nothing but a mere way of shielding the broken pieces of his soul, not allowing anyone to trample what little he had left.
... not until you came, at least. Sweet little thing, never moving away from his side even when Simon told you nothing good comes from men like him. Perhaps it's unfair, yet Simon only warned you once. Had a long chat with you about how you could do better— only for you to find yourself already tangled on his web, unable to leave even if you wanted to... and good for him, because the idea of leaving him never once crossed your mind no matter how difficult he could be.
For you, it was a test of patience and care, wanting to peel every single layer of the man Simon Riley is, yet for him, it's a new chance at life. The holy light, in a way, guiding him into a path he never found himself roaming, a path he never even thought he'd have the chance to see, not when he was such a tainted, dirty man, sins that would last him a lifetime easily forgotten the moment your arms wrap around him, holding him with such tenderness one would've thought he's made of expensive fine china rather than scar tissue and trauma.
It's not like Simon is a bad partner— quite the opposite, truly. He has a way with words, reassuring you that there'll be a time where he's able to reveal more about himself and what he does, having a scheduled delivery of flowers and food almost every day he's gone, wanting to keep you happy even when he's on the other side of the world, gaining more enemies by the day.
... And yet he is not afraid anymore. His enemies die with Ghost, by his punishing hand or that of an ally. The moment the mask comes off, he's your Simon. Yours and only yours, never even allowing himself to look at other women, he has the most gorgeous one by his side, one that loves him with all she has, making him feel like a proper lad for the first time in his life.
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scuderiahoney · 5 months
Text
Stick Around
Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics
|Age 20|
“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.
You peer at him over the top of your magazine.
“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.
“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”
You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.
“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”
“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”
The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.
Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.
|Age 5|
It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.
“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”
Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”
He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.
“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”
“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.
She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”
She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.
Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.
|Age 10|
“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.
It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.
Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”
The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.
Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.
“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”
You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”
Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.
Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.
“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.
His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.
“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”
Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.
Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”
“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”
You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”
|Age 12|
“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.
She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.
She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”
“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”
She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”
You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”
She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”
You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”
“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”
|Age 15|
There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.
You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.
You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.
Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.
“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”
“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.
“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.
Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.
“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”
“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”
He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.
Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.
“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”
Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.
Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.
When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.
|Age 18|
Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.
Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.
You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.
You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?
You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.
Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.
“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.
She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.
“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”
“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.
“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.
Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…
You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.
Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.
You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.
|Age 21|
There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.
It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.
Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-
You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“
“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”
The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”
You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.
“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.
“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“
“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”
He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”
“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”
Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”
You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.
When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.
By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.
Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.
“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”
You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.
The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.
|Age 22|
Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.
In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.
You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.
The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.
For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.
Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.
The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.
You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.
In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.
You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.
Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.
You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”
“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.
You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.
You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.
“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.
“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.
“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-
But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.
“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”
When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.
…..
Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.
At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:
#16: He peels your oranges.
#16: childhood best friend??
#16: YOU JUST KNOW
little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!
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flseur · 5 months
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꒰ 𐙚 holiday sex — jjk men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : winter dates that jjk men would take you on, and what happens after them !
⟡ characters : satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, size kink, standing doggy, overstimulation, soft to rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, praising, squirting
౨ৎ note : this started off as a genshin fic but i turned into a jjk one bc i haven’t posted anything for it in a bit
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୨୧ SATORU GOJO
❥₊ ⊹ with his apartment being right near a canal, during the winter time it was bound to be frozen over. and one of satoru’s favourite things to do, ever since he was a child, was ice skating.
so when the months got colder, and the ice was thick enough to skate on, he was excited to have you celebrate that tradition with him. he made you sit on a bench while he tied your skates and made sure that your jacket was tightly done up before taking you by the hand, leading you on the ice.
his nose and cheeks were flushed red due to the cold weather the two of you were once outside in, but also because of the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his cock.
he had you bent over the granite top of his kitchen counter, the idea of the hot chocolates you once craved long forgotten with how satoru was bullying your velveteen walls.
your slick messily coated his length, dripping down his balls as he pulled soft mewls from your throat. the thrusts of his cock were delicious paired with the feeling of his large hands grabbing at the soft skin of your hips, pulling them back to meet his thrusts halfway.
"a-ah! satoru! s'big..." your words slur, your mind was too focused on the searing pleasure your boyfriend was giving you instead of forming a full sentence.
satoru curses at the sounds of your moans, your sobs only spurring him on more. he watches the fat of your ass move each time his thick cock grinds into your pussy. his pace was unrelenting and his thrusts were calculated, each one hitting that gooey spot inside of you.
you were so perfect. pretty face with crystalline tears running down the apples of your cheeks, back sinfully arched, clothes discarded, and your cunt that satoru swore was made just for him was milking him dry.
"so perfect, baby..." he groans, "you're so fucking perfect." then one of the hands that was on your hip slithered to where the two of you were connected. his lithe fingers feathered above your clit, teasing you lightly.
"don't tease..." you sigh. your breath hitches then fades into a moan when you feel his digits begin to rub circles on the bundle of nerves.
it was all too much. satoru was too much. the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls, him playing with your clit, and his moans. he invaded your every sense and you swore you could feel him everywhere all at once.
"ohmygod... g'nna cum, fuck!" you cry out, body spasming and pussy convulsing as white, hot pleasure shoots across your abdomen. your legs were about to give out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure but satoru's strong grip on your hips is tight and his cock is still pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt.
"give me one more, baby... one more..."
୨୧ KENTO NANAMI
❥₊ ⊹ what started off as kento travelling overseas to new york for a business trip, turned more into a vacation with you accompanying him on it.
he at first was very adamant about focusing on doing the paperwork for his up and coming meeting for the company’s clientele. but when it comes to you, his workaholic demeanour faltered fairly quickly.
he let you drag him down the snowy-covered concrete paths of new york to look at the different stores, hand in hand. you stopped at different shops and bought a few gifts for friends for the holiday season, then you pulled him over to some little cafe in an old brownstone building to grab warm apple ciders, hoping it would satiate your sweet tooth.
and as the sun sets, casting the beautiful city in an orange haze, the two of you decide to make your way back to the hotel you were staying at. as the two of you unlock the door to your room, you can't help but give your husband a sweet smile. and kento can't help but kiss it off of your face.
those sweet kisses turned into something more. winter coats discarded and your clothes soon following after them, as you've now found yourself underneath kento, moaning and swallowing back loud sobs as his cock stretched out your little hole.
kento peppered open-mouth kisses on your neck as he shallowly thrusts inside your pussy. "fuck… sweetheart... stop squeezing so tight..." he groans.
"you feel s'good, kento..." you moan, fingers lacing themselves through his blonde hair, tugging at the roots.
his thrusts sped up, fucking into you at a rougher pace and you cry out.
he pulls away from your neck to look at you, god you were so beautiful. kento brings one of his large hands down to your abdomen and presses down on it, watching your eyes roll back into your head. the strained moans he was pulling from your throat were heaven-sent.
your pussy pulsed around his cock, dragging him further in. kento's head lolled back as he felt you squeeze him tight again. the hand that was once on your abdomen creeps down and rubs fast circles on your puffy clit.
he couldn't hold back his moans as he continued to fuck you senseless. you felt so good but hell, he looked so fucking hot right now, you could cum just at the sight of him.
his usual stoic facial expression was completely gone and replaced with one overwhelmed with pleasure. his skin was flushed pink all over, hair messily pushed out of his face and his abs, covered in a sheen of sweat, contracted with every rut into your messy pussy.
your orgasm washed over you with little to no warning, you grabbed at kento's broad shoulders as you shook from the intensity of it, nails digging into the skin and he groans.
"o-oh fuck! kento!" you cried out. "cum inside! please cum inside!" you were begging him to fill you up, to make you mess. and that was all he needed to hear to have him spiral into his own orgasm. kento's thrusts became irregular as his hips stuttered, eventually stilling inside of you.
"shit..." he cursed as he came, his cock twitching inside of your dripping cunt. "you're so messy..." he chuckled, pulling out watching his cum dripping out of your hole.
"says you..." you mumble, hiding a smile, "you look like shit for a serious businessman."
"haha." kento gives a sarcastic laugh then lays down on your chest, pressing kisses to your jawline.
୨୧ SUGURU GETO
❥₊ ⊹ as winter comes each year, the weather gets colder which meant that it was finally the perfect time to stay inside. so when you looked outside of your apartment and seen it snowing, you decided that it was the perfect time for you and your boyfriend, suguru, to do some holiday festivities.
"oh wow!" you gasp, looking at his gingerbread house. “a-are the windows supposed to look like they’ve been broken into?”
suguru snorts at your question, “they’re supposed to be curtains. and this,” he points at two blobs of icing that you were assuming to be snow piles, “is us. see?”
“really?” you ask, trying your hardest not to laugh. his effort at trying to make this cute made your heart swell, but he wasn’t exactly the best at executing it.
“no, i’m just fucking with you,” he laughs. “i forgot to put the metal thing on the icing bag so it just spilled out there.”
“you mean the piping tip?”
“yeah, that thing.” he smiles.
you giggle at him then yawn lightly. “do you want to go watch that christmas movie now?” you ask.
suguru nods his head, you could tell that he was getting a bit bored with decorating the gingerbread houses. so, the two of you quickly cleaned up then head to the couch.
though soon enough, you weren't paying much attention to the movie. suguru had peeled your clothes off of you, leaving searing kisses in his wake, completely distracting you from the film. as he reached lower and lower, you felt your breath hitch when he was face to face with your cunt.
"need me this badly, baby?" he teases, bringing up a teasing finger to your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of it.
and who were you to ignore him? you did need him, especially when he was looking up at you behind those long black eyelashes, and his pink lips so close to where you wanted him most.
"y-yes..." you stutter, "please.."
suguru smirks then leans in and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. his lips wrap around your bundle of nerves as one of his digits pushes into your pussy, thrusting in and out.
you choke back a sob when he adds a second, then a third finger into your aching cunt, hips grinding down onto his face. he hums against your clit, pulling back to watch you.
your face was contorted in pleasure, one hand grabbing at the cushion of the couch while the other grabbed at your own breast, pinching and tweaking your pert nipple. you were making it harder and harder for suguru to ignore the ache of his cock, begging to be freed from the confines of his boxers.
he brings his mouth back to your pussy, flattening his tongue and then swirling your clit around with it as his fingers continue to pump inside you at an unapologetic pace.
"just like that! mph!" you cry out, arching your back. you were so dizzy, the feeling of suguru's tongue in between your folds was driving you crazy.
the taste of your arousal was intoxicating to him, he wanted you to cum so badly. but he wanted you to cum, everywhere.
as your moans become higher pitched, suguru knew you were going to come soon. he angled his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes rolled backwards as you orgasmed with a strangled cry.
"i-i'm cumming! oh! fuck!" you hiccup, hips spasming against suguru's face as you squirt. your arousal coats his hand, upper arm, lower half of his face and suguru drank it all in.
"that's it, princess... make a mess on my face." he mumbles, fingers still pistoning inside your pussy. you felt yourself being hurrled into your second orgasm and it was coming quickly.
"suguru! can't! is t'much! oh my fucking god!" you sob, gasping as you cum for a second time. white flashes blurred your vision as your head spun, hips sputtering and your pussy clenched around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm.
"good girl." suguru praises you, finally removing his soaked digits from your sopping pussy. he presses a kiss to your clit before coming up to kiss your temple. "you did so good for me, baby.”
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flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.
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flametrashiraarchive · 9 months
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Hey, hun is it possible to do a part 3 of Muzan with reader with big boobs or even do a version with Kokushibo please?🥺
*runs to her laptop so fast she breaks the sound barrier*
Yup!
(I'm just gonna do Muzan for right now- I'm kinda struggling to figure out Koky's character)
NSFW below the cut.
Also, for those who haven't read it, here is PART 1 and PART 2 of the Muzan x boobs saga.
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MUZAN x boobs pt 3.
You're not exactly sure when the Infinity Castle became your permanent residence but you never seem to leave anymore.
In the beginning, Muzan would always come to your place for his titty sucking stress relief sessions, but if there's one thing the Demon King truly despises it's minor inconvenience.
So, you're lying on a plush pillow, reading one of his botany books in a cozy room of the castle when the sliding door flies open with so much force it smashes against the wall. Splinters of wood rain down onto the floor.
You don't even flinch. You're used to his tempers by now.
He's back from his trip to Asakusa and grumbling about hanafuda earrings and sun breathers
"Tits. Now."
You pull open your kimono with one hand, not even looking up from your book.
(If you wore bras before you've given up by now; Muzan just shreds them to bits anyway and those bitches are expensive.)
He moves with supernatural speed, and before you can even blink he's taken your place on the pillow and you're sat straddling him.
Then he pulls your upper half down on top of him, completely smothering him with your chest.
You're still engrossed in the book as he slowly licks around your areola, following the path of ridges and bumps before tickling your nipple with the tip of his tongue.
A shiver runs through your body but you keep reading, because you just got up to the chapter about the strange blue flowers which you used to weave into crowns at your grandmother's house when you were little and-
He snatches the book from your hands and tosses it across the room and into the fireplace, emerging from between your breasts to glare at you.
Muzan is just as shocked as you are by his apparent annoyance at your lack of attention. Why should he care if you're enjoying it or not? This is for his satisfaction, not yours... and yet...
He makes it his mission then to make sure you cannot ignore him.
He sucks your tits with such ferocity you feel tingles all the way down your spine and throbbing at your core.
Grips your wrists and pins your hands to the pillow above his head so your tits are hanging in his face; soft and defenceless against his wicked tongue.
He groans as he bends a knee to wedge his thigh between yours, applying such delicious pressure.
Kneads your tits with his slender fingers, trailing his pointed fingernails lightly around the undersides, making goosebumps raise over your skin and eliciting the first whimper.
Yess... he wants more of that.
He chuckles cruelly as he feels you grind against his thigh, his tongue unrelenting as he laps at your aching buds.
While his mouth is occupied, tugging one of your nipples between his lips and making them swell and harden, his fingers work the other; massaging, teasing, tugging until they're so puffy and dark, glistening with his saliva.
On and on it goes, until you're gasping his name amongst curses. Your grinding becomes frantic and arrhythmic, and the sweltering heat of your sex presses through the fabric of his trousers.
You're close... so... damn... close...
Then he lowers his knee, taking away the friction
(this asshole- istg)
He continues licking your nipples as you whine, taking sick satisfaction from the way you so desperately try to hump his hips, craving release.
"Beg me."
Even if you do, he'll keep up this give-and-take until you're a bleating mess.
He doesn't want your breathy "please Muzan, let me cum," he wants you sobbing.
And only when your tears come does he roll you onto your back, wedge his thigh back between yours and permit you to bring yourself release.
"Such a pathetic harlot," he whispers, his voice laced with darkness and desire as he watches you cum. "My pathetic harlot."
Strums his thumbs over your swollen nipples to make your body jolt as you come down from your high.
You lay there, whimpering and exhausted as he lowers his head, nuzzling your chest.
Is he... snuggling?!?
"What the hell happened in Asakusa?" you ask.
He simply closes his eyes and "sleeps" with one hand cupped over your breast, finally a little calmer.
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hyperfixat · 6 months
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hehe here's this 2k brain rot that @suiana's post gave me (permission proof - not a thief!)
i turned caelus into a they them not sorry. also if the formatting is odd, i’m on my pc and i usually use my phone so.
They’re back.  Again.  
March has to stifle the screams of anger she wants to let out as the shackles of stillness finally free her.  Like ice melting Caelus and Dan Heng begin to move around, continuing where they had left them stranded and abandoned, left to stay stagnant at their whim. 
The worse thing is that she can’t even complain, not for lack of desire to do so, no, no she physically cannot voice her complaints.  And March knows she isn't crazy, she’s caught the twinge of annoyance in Welt’s eyes when he unpaused; seen the ghost of a scowl on Seele’s face; even the carefully controlled hardened gaze of Dan Heng has cracked before.
The Trailblazer is the only one who hasn’t cracked, obediently stopping when they will them to do so, and ever so happy to come back at their will.  March wants to corner them and ask how and why, if they know what's going on, but alas: she must trot along with her friends at their wicked will.
Dan Heng doesn't know what you are, because surely you can’t be an Aeon.  Aeons don’t hold the powers you do, even if they did surely there would be some record of you in the archives, right?  No Aeon dead or alive has the ability to puppeteer humans, and it frightens him that there is something out there that is using him in such a way.  It embitters him, both the unknown surrounding them and the way he is treated; how his whole world is put on a pause while he remains aware.  Aware of how the breeze stills and the stars stop twinkling, how the world goes silent.  What could hold such power? 
A shudder runs down his spine as he follows the Trailblazer’s party.
Welt has witnessed a lot in his time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Himeko has witnessed a lot in her time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Bronya, Seele, Sampo, and Natasha have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Yukong, Loucha, Fu Xuan, and Jing Yuan have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf have witnessed a lot in their time.  Nothing quite like them, though.
The different paths they all walk may intervene, as their personalities and beliefs may differ but there is one truth they can all agree on.
They hate you.
Caelus doesn’t.  Rather, Caelus can’t help but love you; you gave them life and led them through their trials.  You keep them safe and armored. You help them find the words to face others when their mind goes blank. 
To Caelus you are the world.
The Aeons came to know of you when Dan Heng’s frantic searches focused on them for a little too long.  While he was scanning the records they saw you.  You were intriguing from the get go, a pretty thing, sitting comfortably as a figure in the sky. The Preservation and The Nihility, whose current forms allow for more ease with floating went as far as they could to reach you.
Yet you remain just out of reach of the Aeons.
The Abundance uses one of her many arms to steady herself as she crawls along the very fabrics of their reality to get a closer look at you.  And what a darling thing you are!  Excitement that she hasn’t felt in a long, long time, perhaps for the first time ever fills her up inside.  With a shaky hand, she motions for the other Aeons to take a closer look at you.
From there the… shall we say, worship, began.
Nanook, The Destruction, takes note of your fondness for certain characters, and what his darling likes, he likes, so when the Antimatter Legion he has blessed come across the ones you are fond of, their attacks are lighter and they lose his blessing temporarily.  Sure, he wished some of the gushing from beyond the sky was for him, but you so rarely see his face on the screen (only ever in the Simulated Universe you put that Caelus through) he can’t blame you.
IX, The Nihility, will not change in their ways, not even someone like you can shift the nihilism they embody, but, perhaps you don’t notice it, your teams deal better damage over time, don’t they?  Don’t take their blessings lightly, it took a lot to bring them there.
Yaoshi, perhaps makes it the most obvious (despite you never noticing), your favorite vessels get a wonderfully boosted health bar.  You never knew to question how Blade managed to get nine thousand hit points.
It’s hard to pinpoint who thought of it first, perhaps IX or Fuli, but the Aeons, the strongest Aeons, gathered to pull you down from beyond the sky.  Through a (top secret) ritual you find yourself being hurtled down like a meteor into the freezing snow of the Outlying Snow Plains. 
You wake to the kind face of Caelus, which is a bit odd because he’s not supposed to be so… high res.  Or real.
“Are you alright, My Lord?”  The title doesn’t immediately resonate with you, so you disregard hearing it.  When you don’t answer right away they frown in worry, hands moving to yours, gently covering them with their warmth.
“What happened?  Why am I here?”
“You fell from the sky, do you not remember?”
“No,” what sky would you have fallen from?  You tend to stay on the ground.
Caelus worries their bottom lip and helps you sit up.  “Oh.”  There’s a pause.  “Did you not mean to come here? I thought….”
“Hm?” You prod, gently encouraging them to talk.
“I thought you were coming to see me,” their face is tinged pink and facing down in their lap.  Caelus’ hands feel hot and you rush to reassure them.
“I’m glad to see you, but I don’t know how or why I’m here,” you pause, cringing internally.  “Caelus.”  Fuck, that is their name right?  No last minute changes?
Luckily their face lights up when you say it and you find yourself pressed into their soft chest, their arms around you in a bear hug. 
“You’re really them.”  A breathy, ecstatic phrase.  Their face buries into your hair and Caelus doesn’t loosen their hold until a knock at their door.
“Trailblazer!  Pompom here, requesting an update on Their Grace’s status.”  
Caelus gently detaches themself from you and opens the door to reveal the tiny rabbit-oid conductor.  Pompom bashfully rubs their hands together when they catch sight of you awake and looking at them.
“Hello, Your Grace, Pompom is glad to see you awake and healthy.”  
What a cute creature, you think.  “Thank you, Conductor Pompom.”
They let out a squeak at your words and nod.  “Pompom needs to go check in on the other passengers, but let Pompom know if you need anything, okay, Your Grace?”
“Oh, thank you Pompom.”  They hurry away, stubby feet padding quickly down the carpeted halls.  You turn your head to Caelus, “what was that about?”
“Hm?”  Their golden eyes meet yours, head tilting.
“Why did they call me those things, Your Grace?”  
“Because you are our God above Aeons.  Do you… were you somehow unaware of that?”
The words hit you like a freight train.  “No, I’m not.”  It’s all you can think to say.
Caelus sits next to you on the bed, placing a hand on your knee.  “Yes you are.  We can feel it.  You are the one that controls this world and gives us life.”
Controls this world… and gives them life… fuck, the game… you’ve been playing these sentient beings.  Your tummy hurts at the knowledge . 
“Oh, I’m— I’m sorry.”  Your eyes prick with tears, the gravity of what you’ve been doing; how you’ve dragged these people into battles for fun.  You couldn’t have know, but it doesn’t stop the guilt eating at you.
“No, no, what are you apologizing for?”  Caelus’ hands cup your face, a finger catching the tears that drip over the brim of your waterline.  Their voice drops to a whisper, “please don’t cry, My Lord.”
You suddenly feel very watched, like a million eyes are on you.  Caelus never closed his door.  You look up and catch sight of March 7th’s glare.  The intensity of it makes you flinch back, making Caelus look up, over to:
“March, don’t give them that look.”  They scold the girl, who turns the withering look to them.
“Why are you taking care of that monster?  We told you to leave them to freeze in the snow.”  The words make your heart sink.  Being on this side of such venomous words stings, especially from someone you never would have pegged to be so hateful.
Caelus bares thier teeth, a mix of offense and hurt on their face.  “And I told you I would do no such thing to our God.”
“That is no God.”  Her voice shakes as does her head, before turning around and walking away.
“Don’t listen to her.” Caelus shakes their head in disappointment. “She doesn’t understand what all you do for us.  Please don’t hold it against her.”
They, the Astral Express, do not like you.  Caelus and Pompom do, they hold you in reverence, which is better than how March, Himeko, Welt, and Dan Heng treat you.  It’s all dirty looks and only partially veiled insults.  Caelus gets into arguments with them over you.  
You hate to think that you’re harming the friendships between them, and when you brought your concern up, Caelus dismissed you saying you are worth it all.  
Yeah, there’s that.  You’ve tried to explain that you are not God, but they won’t hear you out.  :(
It’s a perfectly normal day on the Astral Express when the Aeons come. 
Nanook is the first one to descend into the Parlor Car; Caelus and Dan Heng immediately drawing their weapons, The Destruction laughs once, eyes moving to focus solely on you.
“It’s so good to see you, My darling Lord.”  His voice is low and deep, and the gold flowing freely from the wounds (?) on his arms leaves a trail on the carpet as he approaches to kneel in front of you.  From your peripheral you see Dan Heng and Caelus share a look before lowering their respective weapons.
Nanook, you recognize him from the Simulated Universe blessings screen, grabs your hand, gracing the back of your palm with a chaste kiss.  His golden eyes peek up at you from behind long lashes.
“How has the Express been treating you?  I regret not being able to welcome you to this existence, but alas the ritual took a lot out of us…”
What.
“Oh, uh,” your eyes flicker around the cabin nervously.  “I’m doing alright, th-thanks…”
“Now, now, don’t tease the poor thing,” a beautiful woman (Aeon) walks in, one with many, many arms draped in soft looking, white cloth.  Yaoshi’s eyes soften when she meets your gaze.  “Hello, Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you in the flesh.”
Caelus, Dan Heng, March, everyones’ (save for you and the two Aeons) bodies droop, posture faltering.  IX, The Nihility, has arrived.  An odd feeling, akin to that of a weighted blanket, is pushed onto your body.  It’s them, their astral, cosmic form much smaller than what should be made of their status, laying on your body like a boa.�� They don’t speak, though you aren’t  sure they could in this form.
Yaoshi’s eyes flicker with amusement, and Nanook pulls himself up.  “The others were unable to make it, but,” her gaze chills and is directed at the crew of the Express.  “We all wish to make it known that disrespect, anything short of reverence toward Our Grace, will not be tolerated.”
Welt visibly shudders at the threat, and Himeko shares a look with Dan Heng.  They need to reflect on how they feel towards you, tha much is certain.
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demilypyro · 23 days
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I have a long history of self-hatred.
Hating myself is what used to drive me. The only thing on my mind was... fixing myself somehow. Finding a way to not be so hateable anymore.... And I've found that that was wrong. Because every time I failed, every time I made a mistake, lost a friend, said the wrong thing, I would just hate myself more. And I've found that while regretting your mistakes can put you back on the right path, hating yourself for them keeps you exactly where you are. I couldn't move forward, because I didn't think I deserved to.
Something happened recently that shocked me. A let's player I'd always admired got cancelled. I'd looked up to this person for years, I admired their work ethic, their personable vibe, and especially their ability to keep their nose clean. One reason to hate myself was because I couldn't stay away from controversy as well as this person could... so much for that, right? I've gotten a lot of shit flung at me, but at least I've never trended on twitter... But in a way, that opened a new door for me. It's like they were dragged down to my level. If even that person I admired had such big flaws, maybe having flaws wasn't a reason to hate myself. And if I got so much out of content by a flawed person, maybe what I do can still be worth something even if it's made by a flawed person like me.
At risk of getting even more corny, I recently played Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth on stream, and I cried through the ending. But maybe not on the scenes other people were crying over. What had me crying, spoilers, was the scene at the end where main character Ichiban.... forgives his villain. This is a man who has wronged him, a man who set basically all the events of the story in motion, a man who caused Ichiban and a lot of other people in the story a lot of pain and suffering... but Ichiban just doesn't hate him. The thesis of the game seems to be that no matter what you've done, no matter how far you fall, you can always start over and do better next time. And that's what I cried over. If Ichiban could forgive someone this horrible, someone whose mistakes are gargantuan next to mine, then surely he'd forgive me too. And if he could forgive me, then surely I must have something to offer. I felt like he was encouraging me in my efforts to be better.
So I'm trying to be kinder to myself. I can't fix my mistakes, and I can't get rid of all my faults, but I can dust myself off and try to do better next time, and not hate myself when I fail. I can hold fast in the belief that I'm doing the best I can, and that I'll be forgiven by people who recognize my effort. I can believe that being flawed is not the same as being worthless.
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 14 —YANDERE CORRUPTION
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — dan heng, jing yuan
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, yan! hsr characters, possessive & jealous, hints of voyeurism in jing yuan's part, cowgirl, jing yuan and dan heng kinda crazy in this one idk
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𖧡 — DAN HENG
dan heng simply cannot get one minute without worrying himself sick about you— not when he was utterly frightened due to a possibility, which he was certain would happen one day, of you getting hurt in one way or the other— but you cannot blame him then, right? when your boyfriend does what he believes was the best outcome for the both of you, meaning to protect you at all times.
now, be it with him remaining next to you whenever you're tackling an appointment or idly go somewhere, whilst he will make sure to shower you with enough love and pleasure as well, which would slowly reveal his second concern and reason for his uneasiness— the thought that you'd leave him one day.
like a virus in disguise, the bothersome thought was pestering him from the cold mornings up to the silent nights— even when he's got you bouncing on his lap with practiced ease, with his rough palms scattered across your jiggling flesh to rub you over his shaft and thrust his raw cock against the spongy parts.
one might assume that the last thing someone would dwell on in a setting such as this one, was an engraved panic hidden beneath ones heart— but again, sadly, dan heng cannot help himself but continuously pester his psyche of an imagination in his mind, which was driving him into madness and guided him to a path full of unhealthy behaviors.
he presses his fingers against you harder now, the bristling tension that intertwined your moving frames rose rapidly as you whine out before sinking down on him once more, his deep thrusts in tune with your hips rolling over his shaft, the lust evident in your gaze as you look down on his flexed stomach, each rill and curve of his muscles embedded with sweat and glowing hotly as you swallow down the budding saliva in your mouth at the sight.
his arms curl tightly around your waist as you gasp at how impossibly close he had gotten to you suddenly, making it a whole lot more difficult to move yourself on him in facileness, your head clouded in a euphoric paradise that had you short of breath, especially the feeling of your walls squishing around his shaft so tight was overwhelming but didn't stop you from recognizing that something has been wrong.
"..dan heng?" your words slip out as a soft whine against his cheek as you find him in a trance, glazed eyes half-lidded with his forehead resting on your shoulder, "y-yeah?" he removes his palms from your waist to raise your hips up, only leaving the tip in and beckoning you to lean a bit forward, so it wouldn't be uncomfortable to neither of you— and he even smiles, hazily and a little frozen, giving the impression away that it was unnatural.
before you were able to respond though, he had already thrown another question at you, "you wouldn't leave me, right?" he says with a hum of your name reaching you next, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass and making it bounce under his touch. "w-what? never!" you hold yourself on his broad shoulders as his tip brushes delicately over the beginning of your insides, only teasing for now, and you knew that dan heng wouldn't move, not before you'd answer him.
his crystalline eyes serve more as a warning, his dark hair strands framing his face so heavenly that you'd never assume that dan heng would have any problems regarding being too jealous or possessive of you— yet, the moment you respond, he glazes his warm tongue over the pulsing marks on your throat, together with slamming you back on his cock and making you take him all at once.
ugh, can you be any more perfect? you just know exactly how to make him unravel and break him free from any doubt playing on repeat in his mind— with those smooth, wet movements of your hands gyrating over his hips, his breathing becoming ragged, needy, and a familiar rush of warmth touches the depths of your stomach as an orgasm finally washes over the both of you. 
it's certain, dan heng was just imagining things again, and there really was no one left walking on this planet who would threaten his relationship in any shape or form— bluntly put, at least not anymore, because your boyfriend dan heng made sure to place early preparations on such things, always one step at a time, getting rid of any threats he might encounter in his life.
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𖧡 — JING YUAN
without a single shred of doubt, you can easily discern that you were one of jing yuan's priorities, if not the most important one— you can tell by the lingering touch of gratifying proximity along your entire body when he lies himself back on top of you, sinking his hips between your thighs as they tremble around him.
he tends to observe your beauty from afar as well, coos to himself when he calls you lovely the second he catches a smile linger over your lips, or when you come home after a long day and immediately jump into the hot bathtub to take a shower— ugh, you're so delicious when you're all bare and exposed, without realizing he was there to watch it all happen in real time, taking relish by how easy you were to adore.
between seas, galaxies and the moon, the general was truly lucky, and he wouldn't want to live a day without you, nor would he let you live your life without him being in the picture— because without adornment, he was obsessed with you and if you were to see into his thoughts, you'd see nothing but your face.
now, he's easing your hips forward to make you bounce back and forth the mattress before returning to shift his weight onto one his forearms so he can press himself real snug and tight inside— your pulsing walls loading with vibrations as he grunts strongly, his dripping dick thickening and throbbing at every thrust before he adds a couple shallow hits into you, smirking ever so handsomely against your parted lips.
you felt pliant under him, fucked-out and shaky as his broad body covers and blankets you— and he kisses you then, eagerly swallows up the intoxicating, little mewls that fell from the tip of your tongue as he carries on to greedily stuff you full, his cock dripping with pre and touching up your intimate skin, his length stroking against your velvety walls in a way that constricts your stomach and has you wincing from the pressure of both his cock fully sheated in you and his large body practically luring the breath from your lungs.
it’s filthy, this entire situation was, but you find utter bliss in his cock rolling into your flexing walls— and for some reason, it felt like the general knew your body better than you did, knew you for much longer, even though you had personally just met him only tonight.
yet, with how he was fucking you, leisurely rotating his hips just the right way so he nudges against those twitching pleasure spots to leave you hanging on a rope— almost like he studied you for months on end but oh, this cannot be true!
and you quickly remove yourself from such pestering thoughts that only served as a troublesome emotion, you certainly do not require this right now— rather do you lastly come to a conclusion you believe was right, being that the ever so well respected general just had to be perfect for you.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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cozage · 7 months
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Hello, I absolutely love the way you write! Also congrats on 2k! Could I request Zoro, Sanji, and Law with a clumsy afab s/o?
Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Law Total word count: 470
Clumsy S/O
Zoro
Zoro asked you once-ONCE-to spot him. And somehow the weights, the bar, and the both of you ended up up on the floor. Thankfully nobody was hurt, but he’d take the risk of no spotter after that. 
Sometimes he’ll forget and ask you to help him move something or grab something for him. It will immediately be followed up with a “Y’know what…nevermind. Thanks though.”
You just randomly get bruises across your body. They used to send Zoro into a panic, but now he just looks at them and chuckles. “You got a new one,” he says, jabbing his finger into it and causing you to groan. 
Even though he always makes fun of you, he doesn’t tolerate other people (especially Luffy and Usopp) making fun of you when you do something embarrassing. Zoro is pretty good at reading when it’s okay to laugh and when it’s not, and he always scolds the crewmates if they cross the line. 
Sanji
You are always getting his food on you or knocking something over in some way, shape, or form. Thankfully, Sanji is always there, waiting. He has a specific napkin ready for your spills, just in case. 
Sometimes you get food on your face, but he just smiles at you and wipes it away with his thumb. When it’s just the two of you, he’ll kiss or lick it away (lil freak)
He is somehow always there to catch you when you fall. Always. It doesn’t make any sense. He just knows, and suddenly he’s next to you, steadying you as you stumble. 
When the two of you walk through uneven paths, like cobblestone streets or forests, he always holds your hand and walks in front of you. You have a tendency to always walk through spiderwebs somehow, so he leads the way and clears them out for you. 
Law
Law has gotten very good at putting up a room and shambling you away quickly whenever you are in danger. Very good.
He very often leaves random unimportant things (like paperclips or books) on soft surfaces during the day so he has something easy to swap with you if he needs to. 
If you’re in the lab, he has a designated place for you to sit. Far, FAR away from the glassware and other chemicals. He used to let you help, but he learned very quickly that while you tried your best, it was better to have you observe. He swears you’re cursed because his experiments are always significantly more difficult when you’re around, even if you aren’t involved. 
He just about has a heart attack whenever you’re standing on a high place or doing something dangerous. He doesn’t tell you not to do it and he doesn’t scold you, he just stands and watches, waiting to catch you if you fall.
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