#( the ending could be stronger but honestly over all

[scekrex]

This is the same Anon who requested Lucifer’s Ex! Reader and I loved it <3 <3 and I’m really glad your interested in the angst fic 😭😭

One thing I disliked (?) about the finale, is that the Angel’s just LEAVE Adam’s body in hell. Like, no attempt to get it back up there, just “we’re gone, peace out 🫥✌️” So what if Reader, after being informed by Sera or Lute about Adam’s death, he quickly rushes down into hell to get his body (or honestly he just doesn’t believe that he’s dead yet)

When he gets there, he finds Adam and just breaks down. (imagine Reader putting his hand on Adam’s cheek and wiping away the blood, just like how Adam did with Reader’s tears all the way back in Eden 🥲) I’m also assuming this is literally as they’re rebuilding the hotel. So randomly they just see a portal open in the sky and assume its like reinforcements, only to see a single Angel come down and start crying over Adam. Everyone is just confused cause no one knows who the Reader is except Lucifer. (And probably Vaggie or Charlie -depending on how much she knows about her dads past-)

I’m not sure how I’d want it to end, but I thought maybe Lucifer tried to comfort Reader (not sure about that or if Reader just sees him, your choice), only for him to blow up at Lucifer and just unleash all his pent up anger and sadness at him. About how he just keeps ruining his life and how he thought he could finally be happy with Adam. (Just really getting into the nitty-gritty of it all) And after he’s done he just takes a deep breath, silently walks back to Adam, picks him up, and flies home. Leaving a completely silent Lucifer behind him.

Seriously, I loved Part. 1 so much! Even if it was short, I found it to be just enough for the overall theme of it!! Hope you have a great rest of your day <3<3

First: I'm glad you liked the first part despite it being short <3 Second: nah because that bothered me too, like why didn't Lute carry his ass back to heaven?? Excuse me? She took his halo, might as well lift this gigantic fuckhead up and fly him back to the pearly gates.

Part 1

You're dead to me, stop saying my name like beetlejuice

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt/no comfort, major character death

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You stared at Sera in disbelief, it couldn’t be true, she must be lying, there was simply no way for her words to be true. “No,” you mumbled to yourself as you turned your head to seek confirmation in the assumption that Sera was lying. But the white haired woman stared at the tiled floor in silence, she didn’t even dare to meet your eyes once. “You are joking,” this time you spoke up louder, clearer, stronger, convinced that the people in this room were all lying to you and that Adam would bust those office doors open any moment to greet you with the most horrible pick-up line heaven had ever heard. But the doors stayed closed and Sera lowered her head, “I’m afraid that is not the case.”

You fully turned towards Lute as your voice started to fill with the anger you were feeling, the hatred towards her and the other exorcists was audible, “So you just left him there?” Sera slowly walked up to you, her hand came down onto your shoulder in a sad attempt to try and calm you down, you tore your body away from her touch in an instant, taking one step closer towards Lute. The lieutenant remained silent though, not a single noise left her throat and you wondered if she was even breathing. She also continued to stare at the floor and for a moment you thought that something that came close to regret reflected in her eyes, but it was gone too quickly so you weren’t sure. “Answer me,” you growled as you towered over the exorcist. Sera had backed off, she had noticed that there was no use in trying to calm you down, that her attempts would only feed into your rage. “Yes, Sir,” her voice was quiet, submissive even. It was so unlike Lute to submit this easily, in all the years you’ve known her she had never done something similar, she had always had a cocky comment waiting on the tip of her tongue, just like Adam.

That was enough though, you turned around, your back was facing the lieutenant, and snapped your fingers to make one of the oh so familiar golden portals appear. They had always tasted bittersweet, even before the exterminations. Hell was no place for angels to visit, no matter the reason. Heaven was made for your kind, hell was to keep the sinners burning, why in God’s mighty name would an angel leave heaven on its free will to pay hell a visit? Well, in your case the answer was love. Sera watched as the portal opened, it revealed a view down onto Charlie’s infamous hotel. There was golden blood everywhere and in the distance you saw the golden wings of your lover. They had truly left him there, probably wounded and helpless, unable to make it back home on his own. “Y/N you should not-” you tuned Sera’s words out, nothing that she could say would stop you.

You spread your wings and flew through the portal, heading straight downwards to where you had seen Adam’s wings gleaming.

Lucifer’s eyes widened as yet another portal opened, would they send another army? Was the battle about to continue? But then his eyes landed on you and he knew that danger would not follow a creature as peaceful as you - you would not lead an army in Adam’s name. Though you didn’t believe in Charlie’s idea of rehabilitation, you also disliked the exterminations. Lucifer had always seen you as a neutral-good in-between. But why were you paying them a visit, you had ever set foot in hell before after all. “Dad?” Charlie asked as she came up next to him, her eyes just as focused on you as his were. And while his daughter’s eyes were filled with confusion, his own held love.

You were quick to land next to Adam’s body, he was not moving, didn’t even look up to see who was there, who was trying to save him. The ground felt hard underneath your knees as they hit it forcefully due to your legs giving out but you could not bring yourself to mind, not when Adam was not moving and not breathing either. His body was laying in a puddle of his own golden blood, your hands grabbed him firmly, pulling him close to you so that his head was resting in your lap as you gently pushed the sweaty hair out of his face. Your thumb wiped the blood from his cheek and despite your senses telling you that he was gone for good, you hoped he would open his beautiful golden eyes and look up at you, maybe make a cocky comment. But that didn’t happen. It didn’t happen immediately, it didn’t happen ten minutes later. You felt his body growing cold and wrapped your wings around the both of you in order to keep it warm - there was surely no point in doing so though. Adam was gone and he would not return. Tears fell from your eyes onto his soft skin, you no longer found yourself able to hold them back, not when the one you love was gone without any way for him to return.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice spoke from behind you and your body flinched at just the sound of it - Lucifer. Of course he would play a part in this, he always played some sort of part whenever you lost something. Out of reflex you pulled Adam’s corpse closer to your body, his face was now resting against your chest, the blood of his seeped into the fabric of your once pure robe, it stained the white feathers that covered your wings and it stuck to your skin, none of these things you cared about. His blood on you was the only thing you had left of him. “I’m sorry, I-” you interrupted the devil without bothering to look at him, he was not worthy of being the center of your attention, not after what he had done, what he had taken from you. “Leave,” you simply said, the pain was not hidden, it reflected in your voice, in your tears and in the way your body clung to Adam’s. But like always Lucifer didn’t listen, he stepped closer, you felt it in every inch of your bones. When he dared to rest his hand on your shoulder, you tore away from his grip just as you had from Sera’s touch earlier. “I said leave, don’t make things worse,” that earned you the attention of Charlie, Lucifer's little duckling, “What does he mean, dad?” You heard how the devil sighed deeply - so he had not told her about you, why should he, you two had just been a thing for only God knew how long before Lilith had been created. Nothing important, a nice experience, that’s what you were to Lucifer. To Adam on the other hand you had been everything and he had been everything to you as well.

A kiss was pressed to Adam’s forehead before you gently put his body back on the ground and got up to face the king of hell and the man involved in Adam’s death. “Oh has daddy never told you about his ex boyfriend?” your voice sounded sweet yet broken, you wanted Lucifer to go through the same kind of pain that you were going through. The pain he had once again caused. Charlie frowned at you, turned her head to look at Vaggie who had just joined the group. “Y/N?” she asked, sounding quite surprised. That surprise left her eyes when she spotted Adam’s blood on you though, her facial expression turned sour and she added, “He got what he deserves.” The short, blonde man seemed to disagree with the former exorcist, yet he did not voice his disagreement. Coward. Instead he once again tried to offer you comfort as he opened his arms, inviting you in for a hug. Looking the devil up and down you huffed angrily, how dare he?

“You have some nerves, Lucifer,” you started, hatred was dripping from your voice as you rounded the fallen angel, you kept one eye on Adam though, making sure that none of the filth down here dared to touch the first man. “First, you tore my heart apart, left me to bleed dry just to get it going with the woman that Father had made for Adam,” you pointed to the brunette in anger, that day Lucifer had not only hurt you, no even worse, he had also turned both of the women created for the first man against the one they had been made for. He had hurt Adam and in your book that was way worse than what he had done to you. “And now that I had everything I ever desired, a loving and caring partner that I was planning my future with, you had to show up and ruin my life once more,” despite his former rank, Lucifer was shorter than you and therefore allowed you to tower over him as the volume of your voice only rose, “Every time you show up you ruin something, you’re no good, a failure and you deserve to burn in hells everlasting fire, I hope the flames eat your heart just like they devoured mine.” You watched as the devil lowered his head, making himself appear even smaller than he already was. “You ruined everything good, you had done so ever since the start of creation, I hope Father punishes you for your behavior,” you raised your wings in order to make yourself appear taller as Vaggie and Charlie rushed to Lucifer’s side. You were done here, you had said everything you had wanted to say.

You walked back to where Adam’s corpse grew colder and colder, effortlessly lifted the first man up. Suspicion clouded your mind for a moment when you weren’t able to spot Adam’s fallen halo on the dirty ground, had Lute taken it? A question that you would ask her later. You firmly held the dead angel as you pushed yourself off the ground and headed back to the golden portal that was waiting for you to return home. But there was no home for you anymore, the person you had called home was dead in your arms, killed by the devil and his sinners. They had taken everything from you and you swore that you would return this favor one day.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[okay-babe]

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon &lt;3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

#alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #.writes #requests

[whaledenwtf]

Hello! This might be a weird request but what about Gale, Halsin and Astarion with a s/o who's super cute and friendly and overall just a gigantic sweetheart who also happens to canonically be horrifyingly powerful. Like potentially even more destructive than Gale and the orb. Enemies who know their lore turn and run just at the mention of them and their name strikes fear into many hearts but then the camera pans over and it's this short sweetheart of a person. Literally this post basically

Thank you so so much, I really love your writing! Also Happy Holidays sweetie! ☺️

I love this idea!! I made it headcannons so it wasn't too long to read! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please ask more, I love writing things for people <3

REQUEST HERE

Headcannons: Astarion, Gale and Halsin with a super cute friendly S/O who's horrifyingly powerful

Warnings: None, this is just indulgent FLUFF, Minor Spoilers for Act 1 and for Gale and Astarion's Lore

Astarion

You were always sweet with Astarion, and only made him feel comfortable and safe.

After he told you he was a vampire, you accepted him despite everyone else telling you not to!

When you told him you could beat Cazador, he didn't believe you at first because of your sweet nature.

The first time he realized you were a legend was when you guys raided the Goblin Camp to save Halsin.

You initially told everyone your name was Tav, so nobody really knew who you were.

Every Goblin met their end with a swing of your weapon, gutting them before they blinked.

It scared your companions, honestly.

When you got to Minthara, you told her your name was (Y/N), and she backed away from you.

Astarion was confused until Karlach, Wyll and Lae'zel spoke of your legendary moniker.

Wyll may be known as the "Blade of Frontiers" but you were known as "The Walking Death" and that was thrilling for Astarion.

Every monster, creature and being met their demise when face to face with you.

Astarion was a slave for 200 years, only knowing the bare minimum from Cazador. But knowing you were on his side, and under his thumb, that thrilled him!

Once you apologized about lying to your companions, they all welcomed you in their arms, especially Astarion.

As he slowly falls in love with you, he realizes that he likes knowing his significant other is not only powerful and showed no mercy, but showed him life through another lens.

You show him that love doesn't make someone weak, but stronger.

You're powerful, and having you by his side makes him feel unstoppable as well.

He is very grateful for you. You will pull him from Cazador's clutches and stay with him through it.

Despite your sweet nature, you kicked ass. You saved everyone you could, which annoyed Astarion. But he loved you despite it, and always will.

After all, why would he run away from the first good thing to happen to him?

Gale

He was also confused about who you were right away. As a scholar he spent most of his time in books, rather than the battlefield.

Honestly, his mind was distracted between the Netherese Orb in his chest and Mystra.

When you pulled him out of the portal, he was struck by your kindness.

Then he was struck by your beauty when you fought valiantly for your companions.

He was excited seeing someone so powerful near him, and honestly fell harder.

After telling you what Mystra did, you told him you'd kill her.

He laughed you off, until he saw what you could do.

Now he's worried he won't have a goddess to worship.

Your battle prowess is astounding, and he can't help but admire you as you shout commands to your companions.

You always were gentle with Gale, soft touches and sweet nothings between you two.

He always finds it difficult to associate you with your title.

"The Slayer of Man and Beast" he's heard Lae'zel and Shadowheart call you.

You always chuckle and tell them "soon you'll have to add gods to that"

Now he's even more worried about his goddess

Over time, he considers you his goddess. After all, you've protected and respected him much more than Mystra ever had.

When he tells you about the Netherese Orb, you shrug him off.

"Nothing will keep me from you, not even a bomb."

Wow

When you two are alone, he caresses your muscles and your hands. He's in love with the idea of his significant other being this battle-worn individual set to protect him

Throughout your adventure, you remind him that you would protect him with your life.

"All for little old me?"

"Nobody will stop me from protecting you. No monster or goddess."

Man you really hate Mystra for hurting Gale so bad.

You dream about smiting her and protecting Gale in your arms.

While adventuring, you always keep Gale by your side. Everyone teases you for it until you shoot them a warning glance.

You're so so good to him. You take hits for him, heal him in battle, and heal him in the privacy of his tent.

"You're too good to me." He muttered once, eyes closed.

"You've never been treated right. It's my personal duty to make sure you never doubt yourself ever again." You replied, kissing his eyelids.

He just fell harder.

Halsin

He actually knew who you were before you saved him.

When you said your name, he bowed his head in respect.

"An honour to put a face to the name" He said to you.

You told him you loved how big and safe he was.

"You're the one who would keep me safe, little one."

He wasn't wrong. You've saved him multiple times throughout your adventure.

You were very sweet with Halsin, always leaning against his arms and closing your eyes when you sit together in camp.

He found it amusing, seeing such a feared individual be so innocent and kind with him.

In his 350 years of existence, he's never been so captivated by someone like you.

When he tasked you with eradicating the Goblin Camp, he enjoyed seeing the fear in Minthara's eyes when you said your name.

Despite being a druid, he knew that with life also came death. He accepted your past.

He found the juxtaposition of your personality endearing.

One day, he was in wildshape lounging around as a bear. You laid on him and spoke about different topics regarding your life.

In that same day, he saw you obliterate 20 goblins on your own.

He never thought he'd be aroused by someone killing goblins, but you did that.

You also knew all the spots to scratch when he was a bear??

Yes that's the spot. Right behind his ears.

He liked seeing the way you treat your companions with such kindness.

You showed respect and compassion to those who you find deserve it. You helped people find safety, and feel safe.

It was beautiful, the way you showed such love to those who were close to you.

He always compared you to the ocean.

"Why the ocean?" You asked him once.

"You can be calm, bring peace. But you are also wild, strong in the most beautiful way." He replied.

He enjoyed the way you blushed.

One time, you asked him to wildshape and you rode him into battle. Nothing is scarier than seeing (Y/N) "The Tempest" riding onto a bear.

Even your companions were scared

Ever since then, you always did it. It was like couple bonding, somehow??

Gods, he loves his little tempest

Hope this is as enjoyable for you guys to read as it was for me to write!!

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 gale #gale x reader #halsin #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #headcannons #reader insert #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate halsin #baldurs gate gale

[diejager]

I’m adding to this idea. Thank you @kyozzy-kenta for helping me build on this concept and @artemeow for the Usernames!

Fans Cw: sex work, prostitution, porn, jerking off, strap on, lesbian sex? Sex collabs, fuck machine, unprotected sex, P in V, sex toys, tell me if I missed any.

Part 1

The tension between them both grew thick after that altercation, while Soap wasn’t as timid about his kinks and quirks, as proud about as the tattoo of Scotland’s flag on his ass, Ghost was a private man, preferring if his nightly activities stayed a secret. Despite that tense atmosphere, knowing that they both watched you made them closer, like two children keeping a shared secret that no one else knew. That giddy feeling of it happening behind closed doors.

It had its benefits. Whenever Ghost was deployed - it so happened that he was often called away, pulled from the solitude of his room and the comfort of your live stream to lead or cover a team during the Op - Soap would would mark down the one’s he missed for him, so that he could wholeheartedly enjoy in his own office or room. He would do the same with Soap, saving them on his phone for future needs, much like he did with every streams he’s watched while pumping his hard cock, shuddering lowly when he pressed his thumb on his sensitive head and gripped it tightly, edging himself for a stronger release at the end.

Soap wasn’t shy about sharing his favourite pictures or his favourite video from your wide library of content, he liked sharing them with Ghost, showing his Lieutenant which one turned him on so bad that he came in his pants or the ones that had him coming so hard that he couldn’t stop himself from dreaming about you later that night. Ghost, albeit hésitent at first, ended up letting Soap listen to the things that drove him mad, be it calling his username Ghostie or calling him sir, coming at his order, listening to him or looking so devastatingly tempting. Honestly, anything you did would get them hard, cock pressing against their pants, an uncomfortable pressure and want to jerk off at their screen.

One thing they loathed, a singular opinion they both agreed to, were the collaborations you made with other sex workers. The only reason they watched it was because you were in it, getting your mind blown away by someone else (Soap and Ghost always wished it was them rather than other fuckers). Soap remembered watching you being eaten out, your sweet, sugary cunt being lapped by a busty woman in pink lingerie and hot pink dyed hair. She had you moaning and mewling her name, fingers gripping her hair and hips bucking into her face. Then she fucked you, strap around her that pushed a vibrator to her clit and spitting filthy words at you, letting people watch your face screwed up in pleasure.

You didn’t discriminate, you simply collaborated with people that you fancied, that you had a mutual relationship with, friends to friends with benefits. Once you had a fair-skinned woman, pleasuring her and letting her order you around, calling her your master and letting her degrade you down to her kitty, playing the role of a sassy but obedient pet. Another time, you had a rich, caramel skinned man, his brown tint gleaming gold under your light as you rode him, his hands holding your hips as you bounced over him, facing the screen to let them see your fucked out expression and the white ring around the cock that disappeared into your tight snatch. It was as arousing as it was loathsome.

In this one, however, you were alone, bucking your hips back to the silicone cock driving into you, it’s base wrapped around the moving arm of the fuck machine, black and slick from all the times you squirt out. You had a camera pointed at your cunt, your patrons watching your wet and engorged cunny swallow up every, rough thrust of the machine’s wheel, and another one staring right at your face, breasts swaying in their loose, blue corset, a pretty lace that wrapped around your stomach and pushed your boobs out and accented your hips.

It was late in the night by the time you started streaming, around 9pm, so everyone was in their room, getting the privacy they needed to beat their meat at you. The walls were thick enough that neither of them could hear each other moan and groan, the wet sound of their cocks breaching the tight grasp of their fist. Ghost liked to pump himself slowly, easing himself into a safe where he could easily imagine that you were taking him, pussy taking his cock so well and gifting him those sweet sounds that drove him mad with need and possession. Soap went at it fast and rough, taking his habit into his bedroom with his hand jerking frantically, wanting to milk himself dry at the image of you, eyes rolling back into his head and moans slipping from his tongue.

JohnPrice gifted you 100$.

Your pout slowly grew into a small smile, eyes droopy with an appreciative, but still fucked out expression.

“Hi, daddy, it’s been a while,” you mewled out those words, eyes rolling back when you jerked, slick gushing out of your cunt, “Thank you for your gift.”

JohnPrice: Always a pleasure, sweetheart.

Ghost froze, his hand gripping the bae of his cock, musky bush prickling his hand. He didn’t know Price had an account; he didn’t know Price paid for you; it had to be another John Price, but how many John Price were British men? Without a second thought, he quickly looked up at your highest paying donators, the same name popping out in third place. He didn’t know what to think of it, how to feel about it.

You called him daddy. What else didn’t he know about your involvement with his team? How deep did you reach go?

Part 3

tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort

#cod mw2 #x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #sex worker #+18 content #Sex worker!reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap x reader smut #soap x reader #soap x you #soap mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #soap smut #cod mw2 smut #ghost mw2 smut #mw2 smut #price modern warfare #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price smut

[l1tw1ck]

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #bottom male character

[animekpopsimp]

The Strawhats React to You Being Shy but Very Strong

Luffy

Luffy first met you when you were just trying to go about your day

He was in the middle of a fight and he had accidentally bumped into you

Normally, you didn't like confrontation but you were getting annoyed

Luffy was shocked when you ended up punching one of the pirates who was trying to attack him

You sent the man flying, and he was amazed

When the fight was finally over, Luffy begged you to join his crew

Though, as soon as things calmed down, you were embarrassed that you had drawn attention to yourself

At first, you refused his offer, just wanting to live a peaceful life

Though, deep down you did want to explore what was beyond the island you called home

Luffy kept asking you to Join him, impressed by your strength

Finally, you gave in, admittedly tired of the mundane existence you had gotten used to for so long

Luffy would keep asking how you got so strong, but was surprised when you told him you were born with it

You admitted that people treated you poorly because of it, so you learned to keep to yourself

You can bet he's encouraging you to open up and always reminding you that your strength isn't a bad thing

Zoro

He doesn't notice your strength when you first join the crew

He notices how shy you are, but he doesn't question Luffy's decision to have you be a part of their group

However, when the two of you are surrounded one day, he finds out why his captain was so impressed by you

He watched in shock as you helped him take down the men surrounding you, not even using a weapon

It didn't take long for the both of you to win the fight

He wanted to say something about your fighting skills, but decided to wait until you got back to the ship

He thanked you for helping him, and complimented you on your abilities

You were touched since most people feared you because of your strength

You found a new friend in Zoro, and he respected you

Nami

Nami admittedly didn't think much of you at first

She didn't know what you were capable of, but that didn't matter

The two of you became fast frieds

Though, one day when the two of you were exploring the newest island the crew had found, you encountered some marines

Nami was worried since she wasn't sure how well you could handle yourself in a fight

However, she was surprised when you started beating up the marines

They could barely manage to get a hit in on you

Once the fight was over, you both ran back to the ship

She told you how cool you looked when fighting

You were honestly a little embarrassed by all the compliments she was giving you, but appreciated them none the less

Nami asked you to train her since she wanted to improve

The two of you became close and you helped her out a lot

Ussop

He %100 looks up to you

Ussop tries to make up stories to impress you

You listen, even if you know they aren't true

He asks you to train him, hoping he can be as tough as you

Also, he will hide behind you during fights, begging you to protect him against stronger enemies

You're often the one encouraging him to be brave, even if he doesn't want to

He tries his best so you won't be disappointed in him

You're like a big sister to him in a way

For that reason, he feels really close with you, especially since he doesn't have any family he's close with

Sanji

This man thinks you're the coolest woman in the world

He thinks you're beautiful and on top of that you're strong

He's simping hard

Compliments you all the time, he just thinks you should know how highly he thinks of you

When it comes to social situations, he's always there to back you up

When it comes to fighting, he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself

Though he will keep an eye on you during fights, just in case

If you do get injured, he always makes sure you get treated, no matter how small of an injury it is

Sanji's in love

Chopper

Chopper already looks up to pirates

And in his opinion, you're one of the coolest ones he's met

He watches you fight with an awestruck look in his eyes

He's amazed that someone so shy can be so strong

He'll ask how you got that strong, and is surprised to hear that you were just born that way

He's upset when he learns that people treated you differently because of it

In his eyes you're just a normal person who happens to be super strong

He relates to being treated badly by people around him, so the two of you bond over that

#anime #x reader #anime x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #anime x reader headcanons #x reader headcanons #one piece x reader headcanons #headcanons #luffy #luffy x reader headcanons #luffy x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x reader headcanons #nami #nami x reader #nami x reader headcanons #ussop #ussop x reader #ussop x reader headcanons #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x reader headcanons #chopper #chopper x reader #chopper x reader headcanons

[junowritings]

What about romanced Astarion reacting to the normally goody-goody Tav revealing that they stole the special potion from Araj before they left. He discovers this because Tav gives it to him as soon as they are out of sight from the blood merchant.

Oh I absolutely love this idea. Though writing this made me realize I need to put Astarion in my party more often. Went off on a bit of a tangent but I do hope you enjoy~!

=======

♡ Oh, the things we do for love, ey?

♡ Astarion plays nice with others in the interest of survival, and he’s made no attempts to hide that fact from you since you had really begun to bond. You on the other hand are akin to a bleeding heart, all too often going out of your way to do what you thought was right even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way as a result. At the beginning that attitude seemed pitiful - he figured it would simply end up getting you killed later down the line. And yet you’d rise, time and time again making an example of the morals that you set and surviving every encounter stronger than before. Even if your morals didn’t always align, he respected that tenacity.

♡ Even after you’d managed to worm your way into his very heart, the pair of you have butted heads more than once on the matter; at the high and mighty goody two shoes act that you face the world with. All of the reminders about doing good deeds for the sake of being good, not stealing from just anyone nor going behind others backs rummaging through personal effects for answers or loot. Not to mention all of that time spent helping others and listening to their plights as though they were your own. Honestly, darling, you really do make things harder on yourself by playing into other people’s sob stories. 

♡ Astarion never suspected that the encounter at Moonrise tower could have changed anything.

♡ He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you leave the room together after dealing with Araj, but that’s because inside Astarion is absolutely seething. A familiar feeling of disgust he’d longed hoped to quash down burns a hole deep within his chest, opening old mental wounds as though freshly torn asunder upon his flesh. He’s mad at that damned drow; the way she looked down upon him, using honeyed words that he knew were a damn farce because for fucks sake he’d been using the same tactics for well over a century. That look, that calculated appraisal as Araj gauged what the vampire spawn could offer her in exchange for her potion made his skin crawl, all too familiar with the look that spoke volumes of his value - as a means to serve her own whims and not an actual person.

♡ And then, when he’d shown reluctance, she’d turned to you, as though you’d reign him in and get him to bend to your will like some fanged pet you kept on a tight leash. Far from the truth, of course, but the lack of autonomy that Astarion felt watching the pair of you converse about him as if he wasn’t even there had him clenching his teeth hard enough that the ache in his jaw persists long afterwards.

♡ There had been a swell of satisfaction when you put your foot down on the matter, nipping her demand in the bud with a firm reminder that he had already refused her request - there was no more to discuss. The drow had gotten bored after that, uninterested in further discussion with her own desires now off the table, and Astarion was all too happy to be out of there as you trailed a few paces behind.

♡ Astarion stands by his choice, but another part of him kicks himself for turning down the reward. A moment of discomfort, to give up a piece of himself for a potion that could prove invaluable was all it could have taken. He had done it before - done it for centuries to placate that vile beast he once served - why would this be any different? A transactional relationship, one that could have given you a leg up in the battles ahead, and he’d refused. 

♡ He’s still stewing in these thoughts when a nudge breaks him from his reverie, a gentle brush of your fingers against his hand as you move into step beside your partner. Your touch is warm yet he prickles as though he’s been burned, pupils akin to pinpricks as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s measuring you, for a moment. Takes in the brow furrowed and questioning eyes - not pity, concern - trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It’s a discussion for later, so Astarion dons that usual placating smile and turns to you, fully prepared to pull a spiel about that whole conversation being a waste of your perfectly good time. And then he notices.

♡ His ears perk up at a noise, the gentle slosh of something moving. Crimson eyes dart down to the source, to the hand you’d touch him with. It’s not empty - no, fingers curl tight around the corded neck of a familiar glass green bottle, and your nudge this time is more insistent as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand, urging him to take it. You relinquish the bottle to his hold, pale hands taking the glass and stirring up the liquid inside as he brings it up to get a better look. Surely this isn’t…

♡ But then sure enough you smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye that makes his own widen as you shrug.

♡ “For you. Figured she didn’t need it anymore; since she just left it lying out in the open and all.”.

♡ The laugh comes before Astarion can stop himself - loud and unabashed from the sheer absurdity of it all. You? Actually stealing something? And for him no less! And they say that romance is dead, yet here you are wooing him one stolen novelty at a time. 

♡Hells he hadn’t even noticed that you’d swiped the damned thing - had it been when you’d turned the blood merchant down? Or back when she’d had her sights set on him? He doesn’t care for the answer, not really. He’s more impressed that you pulled it off, but Astarion certainly doesn’t miss the irony of it all. His lovely partner, casting aside your usual goody nature in favor of stealing something and getting one up on the woman who’d disrespected your lover. As if he wasn’t fond enough of you already - this was just another lovely little reminder of the lengths you’d go for him.

♡ His smile for a moment is all teeth, shoulders still shaking with the last dregs of laughter - which damn if he didn’t need - as he brings his free arm to curl around your side. The kiss pressed to your cheek is quick, vibrating with the appreciative hum that passes the spawn’s lips when you lean a little into him. Once he pulls away Astarion keeps his free hand looped around your side, the other holding the bottle up and giving the contents a dramatic little shake to show off.

♡ Perhaps he’ll keep this as a little secret; or maybe he’ll spend the rest of that night flaunting this potion teasing you for your first act of casual thievery. Whatever the outcome it’s worth the grin he flashes you as he gives a conspiratory wink and declares.

♡ “Oh my dear. We’ll make a fine miscreant of you yet!”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #tav x astarion #astarion x reader #request #anon

[anantaru]

what kinks do you think dan heng has?? <3 ily yoru

cw. kink analysis, fem! reader

a/n. i love you too, love

marking

bending out of shape of your own very soul when dan heng targets your swelling cunt and fondle with your bodies in the midst of a sweat-stricken bed, with a large hand planted on your hips now, the exhaled scents of his body cling down on you as you squirm sweetly with equal parts of both pleasure and need mess up his cock.

despite it all and how you're so warm, so inviting when you take his cock until he's fully slotted in you, dan heng will still place his steadfast focus on your alluring chest only, sensually cascading his eyes over your fingers playing with yourself, where your puffy, pretty tits were bouncing at his deep ruts, and following by being utterly, most perfectly stimulated by his warm mouth.

he likes, no, fucking craves suckling on the thin skin, until your heels are desperately digging into his back so he could fuck you stronger and make you cum already, and then he'll add a layer of hickeys on your flesh too, enjoying watching how you're wincing when he grazes his teeth over the pounding spots.

your thudding skin beneath his touch, soft and hot, wet of his saliva when he continued to sensually roll his hips against yours. it's when his thumb finds the slickness of his spit to messily spread it around your erected nipples, when you heave out breathlessly, his cock twitches within your silken walls, placing new heights of awareness on your sore body that you didn’t even know existed in the first place.

his hips slap languidly against yours, cock easily slipping into you with a filthy, wet noise that made you wince and cry out his name, his dick creamy and wet with your arousal, with the sounds he made both embarrassing and hot at the same time, yet the tasteful expression you wore was one of utter fondness.

praise kink

dan heng can’t quite place a finger on what made this in particular so special to him— and it's not necessarily only you showering him with praise, because he can't help himself and be utterly vocal in bed too;

a little secret— come closer, but he's mostly louder than you whilst he's forgetting everything around himself, only focusing into every deep, slow stroke of his fat tip into your mushy insides fucking you, using you and he doesn't want to stop feeling it, he could honestly go for it for hours on end and roll his eyes back when you're viciously clamping down on each rill and vein on his dick, bouncing your hips up and down as you ride him.

if he had to compare it to something, hm, it's difficult, yes, but perhaps excitement and some sort of assurance were the words he was searching for in the end.

he heaves out through a clenched jaw, "you feel so—" while sharing sloppy kisses with you, "feel so fucking' good and—" as your wet cunt swallows him whole, rutting into his creamed up cock so fucking mesmerizingly that his eyes drop into the back of his head, his large palms branding the cheeks of your ass and fisting the skin, weakly jerking his hips up to meet your wet warmth.

"so good.. so good.. so good.." as your boyfriend babbles in half broken sentences, each of his moans breaking through his words, slowly but surely losing his mind as you slant your body down, chest on chest, your hips never giving up on tempo.

"i love you," you whisper back, lips puckered up into a smirk, sensitive and with your eyes brilliantly shining, the scent of filthy sex tangling in the air while both perspiration and sweat covers either of your moving bodies, "and you're doing so well for me."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng smut

[mrwavellswaps]

Noticing The Difference

I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.

Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.

I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.

But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.

I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.

Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.

“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”

I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…

“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”

He was straight.

Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.

And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…

He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.

I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.

“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.

After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.

Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.

But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.

Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…

“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.

“Call her bro.”

Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.

What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.

But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.

They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…

A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.

“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.

That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.

I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…

#male body theft #male body swap #magic #curse #gay to straight #identity theft #jock #male hypno #permanent #male possession #muscle theft #male muscle growth

[jennifer-jeong]

Guess who😊

As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)

Take your time dear <3

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL

ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)

[Fluff + Angst] [Xiao/Wanderer x Reader] Reincarnation

CONTENT

Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things

XIAO

When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.

No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.

Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.

He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.

He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.

But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.

Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.

He sensed you.

It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?

It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.

Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.

Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.

Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.

As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.

His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.

He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.

You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.

Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.

His heart pounded as you spoke.

“I missed you, my love.”

Instantly you were in each other's arms.

“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.

WANDERER

He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.

You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.

He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.

He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.

Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.

Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.

His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.

She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.

It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.

Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”

Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.

He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.

Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.

As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.

His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?

But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:

It didn’t matter.

You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.

He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.

Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.

“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST<3 ||

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin fluff #xiao x reader #reader x xiao #xiao fluff #xiao angst #wanderer x reader #reader x wanderer #wanderer fluff #wanderer angst #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #my asks <3 #j's silly ramblings

[grandline-fics]

Hi there! I really like your writings and I wanted to request about strawhat crew reactions to over power reader, (if its too much you can just do the monster trio reaction) even better when they didn't think the reader would be so strong. you can make the scenarios however you like! thank you and stay safe muach ❤

DESCRIPTION: You’re so much stronger than they thought

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

WORDS: 1,274

A/N:  Thank you for the request and hopefully you like what I came up with for this. I tried to make each scenario different so hopefully it works.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

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LUFFY

Luffy glared as he raced through the headquarters of their current enemy. He had dropped his guard for a moment and in that time the entire crew had been split up into fights by the different henchmen. While he had every confidence in the strength of the others and knew they would win, he couldn’t help but worry for you. You were newer to the crew but in that time, Luffy couldn’t help but feel more protective and aware of you compared to how he felt of the others. He knew that being a pirate was a dangerous life and in a way that was part of the fun of it all but he just didn’t want to see you hurt. 

It didn’t help his worrying to see that your opponent was the Boss’ right hand man, someone Luffy could sense was just as dangerous as the Boss. He’d done all he could to end his fight as fast as he could but it was hard to stay focussed and not put himself at risk. Luffy stumbled slightly as he ran through the building, feeling one injury in particular throb painfully. After he rescued you he would track down Chopper and get patched up. At least that had been the plan. 

Around him the building began to rumble as the sound of distant impacts drew closer and louder. Luffy slid to a halt just as the wall to his side burst into pieces and a body slammed against the floor in a bloodied heap. Luffy tilted his head to the side and lightly rolled the person over, eyebrows raising in surprise to see the henchman he’d been worried would hurt you lying in front of him. Had Sanji or Zoro finished their fight and helped you? 

No that didn’t seem right. None of the injuries matched his crewmate’s handiwork. This was different but he knew whoever was behind it was strong. Behind him he heard someone approach and he turned to see you slowly climbing from the holes in the wall. You’d been ready to land another blow to your opponent just incase your last attack hadn’t done the trick. You were glad to see that he was defeated but you were surprised to see Luffy there. “Hey, Luffy. You finished your fight too?” You asked with a smile while dusting yourself off from the debris. “Come on, we should find the others and get out of here.” Luffy looked over your slightly bruised and cut body and grinned happily. It seemed you could look after yourself just fine. 

ZORO

“What the hell is this?” Zoro asked as he sheathed his swords and stepped towards where you were sitting in the middle of a destroyed battlefield, your opponents and rubble cast around. You looked up from your spot to smile in greeting to the swordsman before looking around at what you’d done. “You took them all out?” He asked, unable to keep the surprise and slight disappointment from his tone. 

“Well I was going to leave half for you but I got bored of waiting and I could only toy with them for so long.” You told him with a light shrug while trying not to feel too guilty about your actions. You honestly hadn’t intended to do it all on your own. When you and Zoro had teamed up to deal with the enemy on this side of the base you hadn’t expected him to get lost the second you took your eyes off of him. You weren’t too worried about his wandering, knowing he’d get to where he was meant to eventually. Zoro looked at you silently, taking in your relaxed words. 

You hadn’t been on the crew for very long and any previous fights they’d been involved in you hadn’t really stood out to him. Yes you dealt with your opponent but he hadn’t seen you do anything on this scale before and part of him wished he had seen you go all out like this first hand.  For one thing you looked completely unharmed, maybe a scratch or two but nothing ultimately serious or painful. For another he could see by the destruction around you both and the injuries on the unconscious group you were clearly powerful. He couldn’t help but scowl and drop his hands back to his swords, he really wanted to find someone to fight, he’d been looking forward to this. You watched Zoro and lightly bit your lower lip as you fought a smile. 

“Were you hoping to protect me from the enemy?” You teased lightly, deciding to try and distract him from his annoyance at not getting to fight. As expected he tensed and looked at you in disbelief. “That’s so sweet! I promise the next enemy we find you can have them all to yourself and I’ll be your swooning ‘damsel in distress’ okay?” You asked with a grin that grew when he lightly shoved your shoulder. 

“Don’t be an idiot, it’s not like that.” He muttered, looking away from your face as you laughed. “Besides you can’t ‘let me’ have the next enemy. I’ll cut them down before you even know they’re there.” Zoro declared while scratching the back of his neck, now sensing just how dangerous you were going to be both on and off the battlefield. 

“Sounds like a fun challenge, Zoro.” you grinned.

SANJI

Sanji stood in shock as he stared out from the railing of the Sunny. Where a line of Marine ships had once been with the intent on blocking their path and taking them down was now reduced to destroyed hulls, floating rigging and debris as the officers on board clambered to stay afloat or make the attempt to swim for dry land. Every Marine no longer paid them any mind as the Sunny sailed away from them. It had been over in a matter of minutes and you were the one responsible. 

When the ships had first appeared you’d asked Luffy to throw you over and you would take care of things. You’d just joined the crew and dealing with the annoyance of a Marine blockade seemed like the fair thing to do to earn your keep. Sanji and a couple of others were about to protest, about to say that it wasn’t down to just you to deal with them but Luffy being the impulsive Captain that he was believed in you and tossed you through the air without a second thought. His faith in your was quickly proven when you destroyed the ships in your way like it was as easy as swatting an insect. When the last vessel had crumbled, Luffy stretched his arm across to pull you back to them.

While it was a positive to have another strong member on the crew, Sanji hadn’t been prepared to see just how powerful you were. He cleared his mind from the shock and approached with his usual flirtatious smile on his lips. When he’d first met you he’d been taken by how attractive you were and now that he’d seen how physically strong and capable you were, he was already falling harder for you. “That was a wonderful sight! How lucky we are that you’ve joined our crew because if you were to leave us now, I’d be like those ships back there; completely broken.” He grinned at you. 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the overly sweet and somewhat cheesy declaration from the cook, knowing that his heart was in the right place. You looked up at Sanji with a bright smile. “Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece x you #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece fic #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy one piece #one piece sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #blackleg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #monster trio #monster trio one piece

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof!Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut) Part 1 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9.3K

a/n: Be aware that it's a smut but it has a whole context, so it's long. There are changes of the next parts being more smuts, this part was assembled around how they feel in front of each other and what they make the other feel. It is important to point out that I'm not native of the language, it is likely that there are some errors, but hopefully few because I try to be careful. In addition, I hope you enjoy!

You were nervous; it was difficult to digest what he was explaining when all you seemed to notice in class was the timbre of his voice. As hours passed, his accent seemed to grow stronger and huskier, not to mention how he had taken off his blazer within the first few minutes and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest.

You found the buttons on his white shirt alluring, the warmth adhering to his skin, and the occasionally tousled hair being lazily brushed away from his eyes exuded a charm. Watching him was intriguing; at some point, you had tried to avoid such distractions, but realizing your failure, you allowed yourself to be swept away completely.

"Did you hear me?" He asked a bit louder, trying to get your attention. He hadn't shouted; he never did. You were immersed in him, yet couldn't grasp the meaning of the disjointed words he had gestured. However, the movements of his restless hands and the prominent veins when he placed them on his waist had etched themselves into your memory. If someone requested, you could depict his fingers in oil on canvas.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head, waiting for him to repeat, as he often did with everyone else. He studied you more closely, even from a distance, his hands tucked in his pockets and your breath catching slightly. He didn't often make direct eye contact with students, maybe with no one. He was somewhat reserved, and it was evident that lecturing for hours wasn't quite his natural disposition. You found the stumbling over words and how he would look out the window or shift his gaze when someone met his eyes rather appealing. You feared that you had been thinking about him for so long that you had built up an image of him beyond what he could actually be.

However, he held his dark eyes on you, offering a gentle smile, a touch relaxed as if he had expected that from you, and playfully continued, "Well, I didn't expect that from you. I must have been mistaken in thinking you're a great one." He carried on with the lecture as your cheeks began to burn. Perhaps his not-liking for you was part of his nature too.

…

You couldn't bear for him not to like you. Not until the end of the semester; you considered his subject crucial for your repertoire. He just couldn't dislike you. Some nights were spent awake, but you were certain your paper was well-written, and your readings for his class were up to date; any question he might ask, you'd know the answer to. Your seat in the classroom was always the same, out of habit. Honestly, if you had known the distraction and nervousness that Mr. Turner would cause you, you would have opted for seats further back for your own good. But now it was too late, and besides, you needed a good grade in his class.

He was wearing a light blue blazer, a shirt with a few buttons open, and high-waisted slacks, the usual attire, but it never failed to soften your senses. He looked well-rested, his expression serene, no signs of dark circles, and his hair was even silkier than usual as his fingers brushed it back. You found yourself fidgeting, imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair, touch his skin, and feel the texture of the beard that was just beginning to grow.

Realizing your mental drift, you closed your eyes tightly and buried your head in a notebook, trying to avoid looking at him. The rest of the class proceeded as usual, his voice pleasant and utterly hypnotic, and occasionally, he cracked a light joke to lighten the mood. Almost no one laughed, but you found it funny. There were only a few students, so he had no choice but to notice you.

You weren't foolish enough not to notice his eyes briefly passing over you, but you chalked it up to his duty to see if anyone needed help. So you avoided letting your brain jump to impossible conclusions.

And then there was the age difference; he was older, you couldn't say for sure how much, but the more pronounced lines on his face and his authoritative demeanor made that evident. Still, he was charming and, dare you say, a bit sexy. He had a well-sculpted physique, leaving enough room for you to describe him for hours.

"Could you continue for us?" he said, his voice distinct, making you look at him reluctantly. You didn't know it, but avoiding his gaze throughout the class had bothered him, but who was he to say anything about it unless you couldn't answer him?

You nodded, your hands sweaty; you knew what to say, just not where to find the courage. Your cheeks were already burning with anxiety. "I'm sorry," your voice was soft, and you stumbled over the first syllable. He seemed to understand. "It's okay," Mr. Turner leaned down to your level at your desk, his hands on his knees, and a somewhat encouraging smile. "I know you wrote an excellent paper on this; I know you know what to say," he said softly, turning toward you, his calm eyes and a nod of the head giving you confidence. His words made you look away for a moment, and your shy smile spread awkwardly.

Once you finished, he thanked you and added that you had done very well. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you speak, but perhaps it was just a product of your imagination. You even received a light applause from him, which didn't seem ironic. This made you feel more at ease and attentive during his classes; he was a great teacher.

At the end of class, he passed by the desks, handing out the respective papers we had discussed. Your face fell into a worried expression as you touched yours. Alex knew you deserved more, but he wouldn't make it easy for you. It wasn't his style as an educator to give out high grades easily.

Your smile disappeared in confusion; he felt a pang in his chest when he saw your reaction. He didn't say anything, just returned to his desk and said he was open to discussions. He hoped you would come to him and fight for the grade you deserved, but it was clear how upset you were about it.

Others left, content with their grades, and you still had the paper in your hands, looking between the notes. He avoided looking at you directly, yet couldn't help but glance at you from time to time.

"Mr. Turner," you sounded angelic as you approached him, your steps light as you handed him the paper. Your shirt was short, and when you handed him the paper, he couldn't help but notice the exposed skin of your stomach, which was briefly visible. "I thought I had done well; that's what you just said," your voice trembled, and as you got closer, he noticed your sweet scent. On the other hand, you couldn't focus on anything; minutes ago, you were sure you had done well, and things with him had been sorted out; he didn't hate you.

"It's not a bad grade," he said firmly, then immediately regretted it. It was brief, but for a moment, your eyes filled, and he could see how much it had frustrated you. He didn't blame you; in fact, he knew you were talented, and by the way you had written, he knew you had put in the effort. The problem wasn't you; any other teacher would have given you the highest grade. However, your grade wasn't bad; it just wasn't what you deserved and wanted.

"Do you think I can redo it? I can do better," he looked at your trembling hands and continued, "This grade is final; I can't allow you to do that." His words didn't match his tone, but you didn't notice; you wanted to rip up the paper in front of him and say you didn't need it.

You stood in front of him, disoriented, while he couldn't help but let his attention wander over you. He felt wrong, both because you were his student and because he was aware that you were over a decade younger. Still, without being able to explain it well, he found himself lost in thoughts of you from time to time, especially after having read what you wrote.

"Please," you pleaded softly as a last attempt, your eyebrow arched and your nose wrinkled in emphasis of your plea, and you looked so beautiful. "I can allow you to submit another," he confirmed, his face serious, the little furrow between his brows. Up close, you felt your breath catch as you noticed the exposed hairs on his chest. The scent of cigarettes and his cologne became more pronounced, and you liked it. Creating a new one would take so much time, but if it was your only option, there was nothing to be done.

Alex had only asked that in the hope of being able to explore more of your writing; by the end of the semester, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from letting you know that you were his number one fan if you allowed it. You had a beautiful way with writing; feelings seemed worth experiencing in your words. You nodded in agreement. "Okay, I need you to submit it by the end of the week." You didn't object; you seemed grateful, and Alex took mental note of how caring so much about that grade was something youthful; in the future, it wouldn't matter, but you didn't know that yet. Your smile, now smaller but still present, returned to your kind face, and he felt more comfortable, even dressed in his serious university professor attire. With that, he guided you to the door, his palm resting lightly on your back, not inappropriately, but gently, which caused him to blush a bit. You felt shivers run down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice, and both of you made your way to the exit. You thanked him once more, telling him that you wouldn't make him regret his decision, to which he assured you it wouldn't happen.

Your path to the next class was accompanied by a light and relaxed smile after his final words were simply, "I know you won't disappoint me; you didn't the first time," in his pleasant accent, followed by a pat on your shoulders. You felt like a fool, but you couldn't even think of trying to avoid it anymore.

…

"He's good, knows what he's doing. He follows my lead during, when I'm tired and breathless; he tilts his face and lets his nose graze my clit," your friend said casually, as if it were an everyday part of her life. Well, you couldn't relate. She was lounging on your bed, while you were on the floor with your laptop open to one of Professor Turner's published stories. As well as a valuable audiobook that was read by him between the navigation tabs, waiting for her to leave so you can have your moment of peace. You wanted to learn more about him, and your friend kept failing to get you to go out and meet new people. You were unfamiliar with the sensation of being touched, and she wanted to change that.

"I don't want to have to force someone to like me," you said, reconsidering what you had just breathed out, not wanting to sound offensive. You two were just different. She didn't mind; she just laughed. "I'll keep trying for you," and you appreciated that about her. You wanted someone in your life like that, but you didn't want it to be as insignificant as she described. She had already set you up with someone to talk to before, and the kiss was good, at least until you refused to have sex right away, which resulted in his friends laughing at you and whispering as you passed them in the hallway. You learned that sometimes it's better to wait and avoid certain situations.

"I'm okay like this, it's alright," you said, even though you weren't, but you wouldn't go through that again. She respected your decision. Your smile brightened as you saw a notification that you had received an email from Alex on the screen. You bit your lip, trying to contain your eagerness to click on it, making it something important that needed to be read slowly and appreciated. His notes on what he thought of your paper would be there, and he always made a point to highlight the positives and areas for improvement. It warmed your heart.

For a brief moment, his smile for you flashed in your mind, the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and his pointed nose following in harmony. You had to grip the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, soon having your friend's words echoing in your head. Professor Turner seemed like a good man in every sense of the word. You did believe he would treat his partners well in every way. Your friend pointed out that the boy she went out with listened to her, and you felt that he would too; both in listening and in other ways. You were sure, with what little you had learned about him, that he was observant.  There would be no need to tell him what to do, Mr Turner would understand your body and then he would not disappoint.  He could tell when a woman was tired or overwhelmed. An important one was that you also thought he was provocative, too impatient at times not to be.  You wanted to be able to know what it was like with him, even if it was through other people's experiences with him, just to get a little of that taste.  You didn't exactly feel good about the inconsistency of such thoughts. Still, you let yourself be carried away by them.

He made you wet with just his voice. If he were to touch you in that way, you were certain you would give yourself over completely. You sat up straighter, envisioning how good it would be to have his tongue on you, gentle and with relaxed moans because he wouldn't think going down on you was a bad thing or something to second-guess. You remembered how easily you could make your small vibrator slide when you were really excited, and you felt it would be the same with his fingers. They were longer and thicker than yours, but wet with his saliva and your body melting from his voice, they would be skillful.

The tip of his nose would surely brush deliciously against your clit as he savored your taste, following your cues. The beard that was beginning to grow would graze your sensitive skin, causing a slight burn that would remind you of his presence. Professor Turner would also shake his face into you, wanting to make sure he enjoyed pleasuring you as much as he did receiving. Oh, and you would love to be able to provide that to him. Unconsciously, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your friend laughed, "Are you this worked up over a notification?" She had gotten up to leave but returned when she noticed you were flustered. "Spill it, who's the lucky one?" You recoiled, shaking your head in denial, not wanting to admit that there was someone (or not exactly), but your smile was hard to hide.

"It's not really anyone," you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin, fearing you had done something wrong. She waited for you to continue. "Just an email about a paper I submitted, I got feedback on it now." She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What a nerd." Then you felt like exploring the situation further, considering that she also had a class with him but in a different subject. "Was it positive feedback at least? What subject is this for?" You mentally thanked her for asking, giving you an opening to continue.

"It's for Professor Turner's class. He let me redo one of the papers to try for a higher grade," you answered, and she raised an eyebrow. "He gave you a low grade?" The girl seemed surprised but not entirely. "This guy is impossible, what a..." She used a strong word. You didn't quite understand. While you still thought there was a chance he might dislike you, he didn't seem so harsh. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but as you thought back, you realized you had never seen him smile at any student in your class except you.

"Do people think he's bad?" You asked, furrowing your brow. Deep down, you wanted her to reassure you by saying positive things about him and making you feel normal about having this confusing crush on him. She then talked about his strict grading style, how he acted like a difficult person to talk to, and always had a stern expression. She wasn't wrong; you couldn't deny that. But he wasn't like that with you; it was different, and you couldn't explain it.

"I talked to him about my grade, and even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to redo it and submit it by email. He talks to me during class as well, asking me to explain something or asking for my opinion on what he's explaining. I think he's talented, but I can understand your point," you defended, without taking a breath, as if it were already a formulated and concrete idea in your head. You did spend a lot of time thinking about him since the first day of his class. She quickly caught on to where this was headed. "You like him, he's your type. Charming, grumpy, and writes well." Your cheeks burned. "He likes you; in my class, he doesn't chitchat with anyone, just does what's necessary. He enjoys teaching, I can see that in him, he's just not so sociable and too strict for a subject that should be straightforward. I've never even seen the guy smile." You pondered for a moment, deciding to pay closer attention to see if he treated you differently from the others or if it was just your head playing tricks on you.

You shrugged and concluded before she left, "I like him, and he frustrates me sometimes for being so strict, but I don't think he does it out of malice. He seems like a good man." She got up, laughing at how you talked about him. "Then go for it, suck his dick, choose him as your thesis advisor; I'm sure he'd love to have you under his wing." Her tone indicated it was a joke, but it sparked your imagination. He would be a good advisor, and you liked the idea of him praising your work with that pleased, bright look on his face. Alone, you opened the email. Your joy went from extreme to controlled; he could be quite harsh when pointing out the negatives, and sometimes you wondered if he did it just to be difficult. But this time, he found more positives in your writing. He had marked the parts he liked the most and written next to them why he liked them. Your heart warmed, and your stomach filled with happy butterflies. The last comment read, "You give me pleasure in reading something," and you heard it in his voice, deep and drawn-out. You felt yourself grow warm and realized how messed up you were for feeling like this. Your mouth was dry, and in the end, you saw that your grade was the highest, even with the not-so-great notes he had made.

Maybe he didn't dislike you after all. You lingered on the blurry, not much clear photo in his email signature for a while, with a stupid smile of accomplishment on your face. Then you decided to write him a thank-you, and you weren't as brief as you would have liked. The sensation of comfort taking over your body, along with your pleasant but not entirely appropriate thoughts about him causing things in your breathing, made you contemplate what could be done.

You rested your head comfortably, your laptop placed beside you. In a new tab, after opening the audiobook website, you found yourself browsing through the selection that appeared when you searched his name. If his voice was enticing in an inappropriate context, it would be even better alone, wouldn't it? Your chest tightened, knowing that it was wrong, but you weren't going to stop.

You put on your headphones, clicked on the longest one you could find, and relaxed your tense shoulders as the first whispered words filled your head. It was even better; here, you had him all to yourself, complete silence, and his voice echoing, well-recorded and clear as it guided you. He sounded precise, with deep and marked pauses, his typical breathing between phrases, and, with your eyes closed, you could imagine him gesturing and occasionally touching his nose or mouth as he spoke. Just like the gentle adjustment of the necklace and shirt that made his chest more visible and room for more of your thoughts to be explored.  In fact, that necklace coming off his soft skin on top of you in sweat would be something so pleasant.

You felt weak but in a relaxed way; it was good, pushing the voice that haunted your thoughts about him into the background. Delicately, as if any abrupt movement might break the spell, you reached for your box under the bed. The small, pink object came to life in your hand, your throat already dry and his narration causing your head to tilt slightly to the side, as if he were caressing your face. You let yourself be completely carried away as you pressed it against yourself.

You swallowed hard, leaving it there for a while, immersed in how Mr. Turner seemed to be speaking to you. Everything was slow, every syllable that came from his rosy lips was cherished. You wanted so much for it to be him there, touching you and whispering while guiding you. You were sure he would say things like, "That's it, you're taking me so well, doll," or "Look at how good you are, you're such a good girl for me." And as cliché as it might sound, you had no doubt that he would make it sound like something the gods themselves would envy.

You pulled the thin fabric aside, pushing the vibrator inside you. Your legs trembled a bit, but as expected, the small object slid in just right. Your lips parted in a satisfied sigh, whispering his last name as you closed your legs slowly and felt the tingling sensation intensify. His name never felt so delicious and engaging as your tongue rolled out to the sound and went through your lips so vividly. Your head throbbed, and you could already see him sitting at his desk in front of yours, guiding you, telling you what to do and say, teaching you tricks to make it even better (you knew you weren't very skilled).

You got louder, whimpering because you wanted your thoughts to become real so badly, and then you saw nothing but white spots in your vision. Your chest heaved, your breathing completely out of sync, and the area beneath you grew wet as you felt too sensitive to continue with the vibrator.

This time, you didn't feel bad; you felt really good, actually. Your body relaxed, his voice still being absorbed by you in a therapeutic way. Then, you imagined lying on his chest, pulling your pillow to your arms, and how he would kiss you solemnly and have his hands in your hair, giving you comforting words until you fell asleep after he had made you feel so wonderful. 

Although you were feeling good now, the following morning would be a bitter testament to how you were digging yourself into a hole with no bottom, and the light wouldn't be there to save you.

…

 Alex received your email, and a pleasant blush crept onto his face along with a warm smile. He could picture you reading what he had written, your hands between your thighs, a happy expression on your face, and all giddy, unable to contain yourself in your chair. He appreciated how much you valued his feedback, but he knew how hardworking and intelligent you were. He wanted to help you realize that you were good on your own, not just because he believed it.

He ran his hand through his hair, feeling hot from the heat. Your notification had arrived on his phone, and being a seasoned university professor, he preferred to wait to access his laptop to read and respond to you properly if needed. He tried to get into the thing that he was used to teaching, but that wasn't entirely the case. While he found it tiresome to teach subjects he liked and found interesting when no one seemed interested, he enjoyed it when you were there for him, you were the exception (the teacher’s pet). The thought made him chuckle and bite his lip. It was tiring, but he liked it, except for all the social interaction that weighed on him.

He had just returned from the market after giving two lectures, and he had exceeded his limit for social interaction. Yet, seeing your email notification on the screen gave him the extra energy he needed for the rest of the day. Just the thought of your quick exchange earlier when he passed by you on the first floor during lunch, even if brief, brought a warmth to his chest. You smiled at him, waved, and whispered a "good day" or "have a good rest of your day, Professor." He always smiled back with a hand in the air, trying to keep his face relaxed, and he actually showed his teeth. He wasn't used to all this sweetness from his students and had never found himself making an effort for it, but with you, it was worth it.

Indeed, no one but you spoke directly to him out of pure, spontaneous will. If others did, he would remain serious, with a furrowed brow, and nod in agreement. He honestly preferred it that way, with no one besides you trying to have a small talk with him. He didn't dislike his students, but he didn't like flattery and dumb questions that could be avoided if they paid attention in class.

His head began to ache, and he noticed the sweat on his body, prickling and making him feel irritated. Stress was about to come back, but he remembered that he needed to read your email. He removed his belt, sliding it off his waist slowly and soon feeling relieved. He felt even better after unbuttoning all the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off. He quickly decided between taking a shower or reading your sweet words first, considering which order would leave him relaxed for longer so he could sleep. He knew that whatever he did, thoughts related to you would still linger in his mind until he fell asleep.

He sat on the bed, pulling the laptop toward him, and although he wasn't in a hurry, he found himself restless until the screen lit up, and he could access his account. Once he did, your simple message didn't fail to soften him. The excessive exclamation points reminded him of how young you were. It was like a letter, with your polite and correct punctuation. He could almost hear your voice as he read your words.

The way you called him "Mr. Turner" never failed to affect him. Others had addressed him this way, but it was different with you. Your eyes sparkled, your smile widened, your pupils got alive, and your pleasant face eagerly awaited for him to look at you and speak to you. He thought he was too old for this, and he certainly was, but he couldn't avoid how you had invaded his soul.

You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, but he felt like he was corrupting you. He felt dirty for getting so energized by giving you compliments he knew you liked to hear and then patting your back while seeing you happy about it. What the hell was he doing? And he couldn't deny that he found comfort in how beautiful you looked when you were frustrated, your eyes seemed more tired, and your breathing uneven when you were upset about one of his negative comments (sometimes he did it on purpose).

Feeling his own chest grow heavier and his mind getting increasingly lost, he opted for a shower, even though he was aware that idealizing you wouldn't end there. Now without clothes, under the shower, with you like a curse surrounding him, he realized just how messed up he was. He couldn't avoid it anymore, even though he didn't want to. He knew there was no turning back.

The words from your email clung to him as water flowed over his hair and down his shoulders. You had shown how much you appreciated him and knew his work, the care in choosing your words to praise him, and saying that you wanted to get to him in person soon to reinforce how much you had liked his feedback, the way would like to work through them and see you unravel in front of him because he noticed that your courage in emails wasn't the same as in person. He found that so adorable.

His overactive imagination was leading him to cute places related to you, but it was sparking other curiosities in him too, even though it was about how delicate and somewhat innocent he found you (although he would never admit it that way). Soon, he felt heavy, needing relief as the water splashed over him, and he sighed in exasperation at himself. He was being as pathetic as a teenager. Why couldn't he stop?

His breathing grew rigid, catching in his dry throat, and he allowed himself to be carried away by the flow of his fantasies. His hand ran over his abdomen, eyes tightly closed, hoping that this would make him feel less guilty about it. His thumb glided over the sensitive skin, and a soft sigh escaped his lips; he felt sore and swollen despite doing so little. He continued slowly but with precision. He believed that giving you pleasure wasn't such a difficult task; you would appreciate the touch no matter what. Not that it made him want to go easy on you. He felt like he could have his hands around your waist, squeezing your soft flesh with delight while admiring your breasts, giving them gentle bites and generous suckling that would make you gasp for air for extended periods. Your hands would be cradling the nape of his neck, fingers entwined in his tousled hair. He found comfort in this, feeling that he could make you feel the same way.

He also thought that your body would respond well to his. He was convinced that you were addicted to being a good girl, and that was not up for discussion. The way you melted under his compliments, listened to his harsh criticisms, and sought to improve upon them, you would deny any chance of being labeled a bad girl. As more moans escaped his lips, with the strength of his fingers unaltered, he thought about going a little harder on you, not to hurt, but to make you think about begging him to stop. The tears that would stream down the corners of your eyes as you tried to be good for him and take him in you just right. "You're doing so well, babygirl. You’re so good to me." You would open your bright eyes to him, feeling encouraged to continue being what he needed. He would clearly notice and slow down, accommodating his fingers on your clit and making you adjust to him with soft whimpers that made you endure and enjoy it until the end.

He also liked how you would react when he stimulated you to the extreme, your sensitivity and his desire to taste your essence on his tongue. He could say that you were as sweet as his last name sounded when you talked to him in class. He would tease you with his tongue, kissing you as if it were the only time and chance he had to touch you. And you would fight not to close your thighs around him, but as you were a good girl, you would succeed in keeping yourself spread open while he exhausted you a few more times. The thought of you reaching your peak, your eyes closed, and the tears he knew would be there because you did that when you got frustrated with his opinions on your writing, and your mouth slightly open with his name escaping, made him reach his climax. A deep, raspy groan echoed through the bathroom, his head heavy, and his shoulders feeling lighter and more satisfied. He worked his hand until the last drops came out and marked his stomach just before the water could wash it away down the drain.

He felt good, guilty, but his body wasn't saying that. "Fuck," he sighed, not knowing if it was relief or the headache that would come later due to this; it was getting worse to a dimension he hadn't imagined. He would surely ruin you if he continued; it wasn't as enjoyable as he wished.

Still, he got out of the shower and found himself picturing how you would snuggle up to him, your tired body and calm eyes enveloped by his, and how he would love to tell you stories until he saw you fall asleep safe in his arms or listen to you talk about your day. He liked your voice; it made him feel good. At this point, he desired you in all these ways, from the most profane to the most adorable, for your physical and emotional well-being.

You still haunted his dreams, so vividly that he reached out for you in bed. In his imagination, he had lifted you by the waist and placed you sitting on his desk. The remaining students had left, and he could revel in how your hands were trembling and your face was so delicate as you gazed at him. You used to wear knee-high socks with longer boots, and he found it sexy yet cute. He felt like you made things your own, that you gave life to them. And then he found himself pulling at that piece of clothing, your legs spreading apart, and he had to instruct you to stay quiet before someone noticed as his fingers touched between your thighs. He caressed over the damp fabric, nodding his head and waiting for you to do the same, indicating that you understood to stay calm and quiet. The door would be closed, but the glass window could still give you away. You were facing away from it, and if you behaved, everything would go smoothly.

Alex could feel you soaking through his fingers, making them slippery. You sucked on his finger skillfully, being such a great girl, and stayed still without him having to coax you into relaxing as he went deeper. Your sighs were adorable, and he felt himself getting hard. He woke up before he could make you reach your peak and realized that the dream had an effect on him. There, he knew that if given the opportunity, maybe he wouldn't be able to fight against what he wanted to do, purely out of morality.

…

The following week, there was no class with Turner due to some unforeseen circumstances of his. However, he was still around for the week. Being as observant as you were, you passed by the same spot at 12:45 on Friday, gave him a slight wave, and although you had planned to approach him and ask how he was, you didn't. That is, until he called out to you, causing your body to freeze and your heart to race, forcing you to get closer.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, his cheeks flushed and intense. You noticed his restlessness as you got to him; it was cute, not awkward. He held a coffee and had a cigarette between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction to yours and got rid of it as soon as you arrived by his side.

"Are you good, Professor?" It didn't fail to make him nervous, but he still looked at you without understanding. "I'm sorry, I guess it's not my business; I just thought to ask out of politeness since I haven't seen you this week."

He laughed at how you stumbled over your words, and he didn't blame you; he felt the same way. The fact that he made you feel like your question was inappropriate even made his chest tighten a bit.

"It's okay, I had a routine check-up, but I'm fine," he replied briefly but nodded with a comfortable smile. He could see you swallowing nervously and how your fingers wouldn't stop moving while he had his eyes on you.

"I thought of a book for you, if you don't mind." Your eyes met his, and you seemed excited. "I really like it, and I thought you might like it too."

The idea that he had thought of you made your body tingle, and the rush of blood to your face drowned out the noise around you. You took the coffee from his hands, noticing how he fumbled with opening his bag, and the light touch of your skins made you wish for more—it was warm and soft.

He took out the book, handing it to you, and you nodded with a faint smile. You hugged the cover to yourself, avoiding his gaze for a moment. It felt insane being around him after all the things you did with him in mind. You weren't exactly proud of that. The collar of his striped T-shirt was carelessly folded, and the buttons you loved so much were unbuttoned, revealing his chest briefly. You wished you could fix it for him.

This time, he wore a dark blazer and flare jeans, and he was pleasant to look at. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "I left notes in some parts so that I can know what you think later, if you'll allow me." Then you realized that he was doing this because he knew you needed to do well in his course to get into the master's program; still, you found it cute.

"Oh, yes, I can write to you when I finish, right?" He agreed, knowing that he would be waiting for your email in the coming weeks.

"I'm glad to know you're okay, Mr. Turner," you said awkwardly, your face fervently hot, and thanked him for the book. As you turned around, you felt his hand on your wrist; it wasn't as soft as before, but it was comforting, with the fingertips firmer as he squeezed your skin. Then, your eyes met his with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to give me back my coffee, pet," he said playfully, and your knees weakened a bit. He felt pleased to be able to contemplate you in his mind.

…

The heat had taken its toll on Alex. He had left his blazer in the car and decided to visit one of the open bars near the campus. His hands rested inside his pockets as he patiently waited for his juice and water, yearning for the moment when he could finally get home and enjoy a cold beer. It was his final class of the afternoon, which meant it was getting quite late, and the students were scattered around. While the bar wasn't overly crowded, he could still recognize a few faces.

As soon as the chilled cup was placed in his hands, he caught sight of you with your back turned. You were wearing your signature knee-high socks and boots, but this time, you had opted for a skirt and a tank top, giving you a more relaxed and comfortable appearance. You looked stunning. With you engaged in conversation with a friend he had glimpsed from a distance, you were all smiles and animated hand gestures, bringing life to the scene.

Realizing he was staring, Alex chided himself and tried to divert his attention back to his juice. Yet, within a few minutes, his gaze involuntarily returned to you. Now, you were alone, engrossed in his book that sat next to you, its pages marked to indicate that you had already begun reading. A smile of satisfaction graced his lips; he had strategically placed notes between the pages for you to discover, hoping you would notice.

You sipped from an orange beverage, and Alex decided not to speculate whether it contained alcohol. However, he knew you weren't intoxicated when you suddenly turned towards him and greeted him with a friendly wave. He felt momentarily caught off guard but managed to offer a warm wave in return, nodding to acknowledge you. Your smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but notice how different you appeared outside the confines of the classroom. He longed for the opportunity to engage with you in a context that wasn't purely academic, but he was well aware that pursuing such a connection might be detrimental to both of you.

You turned back to your previous position, sipping your drink through a straw, while still sneakily stealing glances at him. Alex deliberated whether to linger a bit longer for your sake. The table you occupied was well-lit, offering a refreshing ambiance that was perfect for a summer day. The atmosphere was delightful, and he could easily imagine you enjoying such a setting regularly.

He held his bottle of water, pondering the ethical implications of sitting with you while you were alone. His initial plan was to finish his drink and then leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do that—not for his sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be fair to you. He feared the potential consequences would fall squarely on your shoulders rather than his own.

He shook his head and eventually decided to leave. As you lowered your head into his hands, he waited for a few more minutes, half-expecting you to look his way. But it didn't happen.

Then everything seemed to happen very quickly. He returned to his car, leaving behind the water and even starting the engine before realizing he had left his wallet inside. He hesitated but ultimately turned back, despite his frustration over forgetting his documents.

His wallet was still where he had left it. He retrieved it and then shifted his attention to you, curious and attentive. Your hands were fidgeting with your socks, as if attempting to wipe away sweat. A boy was seated in front of you, but your attention was elsewhere. The guy sported a smile that made Alex uncomfortable on your behalf.

Your discomfort was palpable, yet you seemed powerless to do anything about it. You turned to the side, your head moving away from the boy, and as you gasped for air, the guy's grin widened. Your elbows dropped onto your knees, and your hands moved to pull your hair away from your face. You appeared more sweaty than usual, and you felt increasingly weak.

As you realized your strength was waning, the boy signaled for someone else to assist you. You resisted, but they gently pushed you back into your chair to prevent you from collapsing. They weren't being nice about it.

For Alex, that was the tipping point. He strode over to them and forcefully removed the boy's hand from your arm. "Get away from her," his stern voice reverberated, and you didn't understand what was happening, but you knew you didn't feel well.

The guys attempted to speak over Alex, trying to explain themselves, even though there was no justification for their actions. Their chatter only served to irritate him further. He held onto you, his hand caressing your face, and your eyes were half-closed; you were clearly not in a good state.

After another remark from the boys, Alex glared at the boy with an even more intense hatred. His brow furrowed, and his tone grew sharper. "Just stay away from her; I won't let her be alone with you," he warned, making it clear that they should not attempt such behavior with anyone else either.

The boys exchanged nervous glances and silently agreed to leave, though Alex couldn't have cared less about them at that moment.

"What’re you feeling, pet?" He placed his hands on his knees, lowering himself to your level. You were dazed, your skin tingling, and you weren't sure what to say, or if you could say anything at all. Alex considered asking where you lived and offering to take you home, but he suspected you lived in the vicinity of the campus, and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to be seen with you in this state. Taking you to his own home didn't seem like a good idea either, but he did live nearby, and it appeared to be the most reasonable option.

He cupped your face in his hands, close enough to smell your scent once again. You smiled faintly, your eyes still distant but focusing on him. You were conscious, just not in the best condition. "I don't want to stay here; my head is spinning," you mumbled, not entirely sure what was wrong. It could have been due to poor nutrition or dehydration, you thought.

"Look, I'll stay with you ‘til you feel better, alright?" he spoke gently, as if soothing a baby. You nodded, his touch on your cheek making you lean into his warmth. As he thought about reaching out to your forehead with his lips, he realized where he was and quickly pulled back, rising to his feet with you leaning on him for support.

…

Alex gently sat you in the passenger seat, and you huddled in front of him, noticeably self-conscious about your attire. He chuckled warmly, pulling his blazer from the back seat. You felt cradled by his presence as he slipped the fabric over your arms and fastened the buttons around your midsection. It resembled a short dress, making you feel more comfortable, and it carried a pleasant scent. Your stomach still tingled, and you were aware that it was because of him and not whatever had happened earlier.

He rested your head against the headrest, his serene eyes guiding you, and he didn't seem regretful about helping you, despite the crease between his brows. Then he fastened your seatbelt and handed you his water bottle. Your vision was blurry, and sudden movements hurt, but he wasn't a saint, and he had a rough view of how you must be feeling. He'd been your age before, although thankfully, in his case, it had been a result of a spontaneous choice.

"I'll wait a bit before starting the car, alright?" he suggested, and you nodded. He gently led the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to drink a substantial portion of it. He wiped your chin and face with the hem of his T-shirt, and you followed his every move, your attention fixated on him. Without the blazer, he looked even better, and you lightly held his wrist. He seemed concerned, but you did it because you wanted to and felt that you could, even though you'd never been this close before. "Thank you, Mr. Turner," you said casually, as if it didn't affect him profoundly.

As he sat down on the driver's side of the car, he closed the tinted windows, feeling safer with that precaution. He still worried about putting you in danger. He waited, knowing that feeling dizzy along with drinking water wouldn't be a good combination, even though he had insisted on it to help your body recover more quickly. He could hear your calm breathing, which put him at ease. You had closed your eyes, your mouth slightly ajar, and he looked at you, allowing himself to be captivated by every detail. He carefully adjusted your hair to prevent it from catching on the seat and strands from being pulled, whispering, "You can sleep; everything’ll be alright, I promise, little one." You found yourself charmed by the pet name, involuntarily smiling, and he made a mental note that you like it. Your arms lightly touched, and with the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you drifted into a light sleep. It was strange to be in such a bad situation with an outcome that neither of you regretted. He kept the radio off until reaching your destination. He’d never drive without music. 

… 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as you realized you were leaning on him for support. Your forehead was resting on his shoulder, his soft T-shirt against your skin. He was more comforting to touch than your mind had led you to trust. He was kneeling in front of you while you sat on the bed. You no longer felt dizzy, but you were weak, with not all your senses fully present. Alex's hands delicately removed your earrings and necklaces, and it was nice to have him so close, a bit surreal. You almost believed you could be a doll with how he was treating you. He moved back, laying you down on his bed, and he smiled at you as a way to reassure you that everything was okay. You grabbed his arm, afraid he would leave. Alex quickly shook his head. "Hey, little one, I'm not going anywhere. I just need to get some water for you and something to dry your face." He sounded caring, making you want to cry because you knew this was wrong. But why did it feel so right?

"Promise?" You asked, not into the idea of falling into a deep sleep and when you wake up he wouldn't be there to call you little one anymore. He nodded, extending his pinky finger to seal the promise. The silence without him wasn't comforting; you felt like there were monsters under the bed. Still out of mind about time and space, you realized you were in his room, which made you feel even more fragile. The room had a light blue color, seemed well-lit during the day, had books scattered in an organized manner, and two guitars hanging on the wall. That made you put your hand over your mouth as you imagined how his fingers would behave playing those strings. You wanted to hug him, to let the scent and the soft chest lull you to sleep again. Your head was noisy, and you didn't like it.

When he returned, he moved in slow motion to you. He wiped your face and neck with a damp cloth, and you wondered why he was alone. He was a good man; you had thought about that before. Alex wouldn't sleep next to you, but he would stay with you as long as you needed him. He sat with his back against the headboard, looking at you for a moment. It was too late; this was no longer just a casual situation. You'd have to talk about it; you had formed a bond. Although you were scared, Alex liked it.

You asked him to lie down, and he complied. You were side by side, facing each other. Your eyelids struggled to close, but first they followed your fingers as they roamed his face. You traced the gentle lines at the corner of his eye, then the bridge of his nose. He was handsome. Sometimes you wanted to forget that he was older than you, even though you liked him that way. Your hand then touched his rough stubble, and he smiled when he saw you smiling at him. It was like a dream, like you had imagined and even better.

In an abrupt and unquestionably unplanned proceed, your hand hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt, pulling yourself closer. It was a light pull, and in the blink of an eye, your lips were on his, tender and airless. They lingered there, just touching, feeling each other's warmth and the mixing of breaths. Your hand pressed against his chest and held him to yourself, like he could heal you. You moved your lips with his slowly, warmly, and precisely, enjoying in a comfortable sigh every second of it, until he broke into a sigh of reality. He couldn't be doing this, not with you like this. Not wanting to startle you, he sealed your cheeks and nose a few countless times before planting small forehead kisses when he needed to refuse your touch. He felt guilty, but he wouldn't deny that it had been good, way better than he had fantasized. There were no words, and none were needed; both of you were aware of it. Although he thought you might not be as much, he feared you might not even remember this when you woke up.

Alex held your palm against his chest until you fell asleep. Then he got up, covered your body with a warm sheet, and left you there. Unable to restrain himself from touching your face before and stroking your hair. The next day, you would wake up, wondering if it had been a vivid dream or not. But his room would leave no doubts, with the guitars, the well-lit atmosphere, and his blazer still carrying his scent on you. You didn't know how you were going to talk to him after that, you thought about how he must think of you as a kid who doesn't know how to be in the real world. This time, however, you noticed a photo on the bedside table. He was hugging a woman while kissing her forehead. She had a neatly cut fringe and an angelic face; she was very pretty, and it made you feel insecure. She was around his age. You were wrong to be there, and then you got that the bed you were on was a double bed. You wanted to run away even though your head was pounding. Professor Turner might act like a good man, but he was still a man. Above all, you tried to think well of him; perhaps it was a divorce, right? You would have noticed the ring on his finger if he were married. He wouldn't take off the ring, would he? But why was that photo still there? You quickly got up, failing to remain composed when you saw that he had left a note and some money in case you needed to call an Uber. You couldn't just read it right away. You wanted to believe he was good, but it hurt. You felt used even though you hadn't done anything. Yet, you still felt like you wanted him around more often because you felt good with him. In the middle of class, Alex struggled with impatience, hoping you wouldn't leave without taking the note and the snack he had left for you, so you would have his number and be safe. But it didn't happen, at least not when he expected it to. 

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams

(lmk if you want to be in or out of the taglist!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

[melrodrigo]

I really love puppy love omg 😭😭 what about when puppy like reader gets really injured by someone and ends up in the clinic and tries to hide it so that wednesday wont notice? Its up to you if you wanna write it!

ty babe! i’m glad you like it

i might’ve gone a little overboard and wrote more than i thought i would, enjoy!

Okay. Maybe picking a fight with a 6’2 giant wasn’t your brightest idea.

It started in fencing class, you making your way towards Enid, for a pair exercise. Wednesday wasn’t in class today, opting instead to sneak out and work on the hyde case, she had mentioned briefly.

“Yeah dude, Wednesday is sooo into me. I can feel it. She’s been giving me so many signals.” You hear as you walk past Xavier and his hoard of friends.

You can’t help the sudden tug in your heart, and the small voice in your head that said maybe he was right.

Wednesday had been spending a lot of time with Xavier lately, but she had claimed it was for the hyde case. It didn’t help the swell of jealousy that surged through you whenever you saw them though.

Stupid feelings. Why are you jealous anyway? It’s not like you and Wednesday are together.

A voice cuts you out of your thoughts, “Totally dude, and when you finally hit that, you gotta tell me alll the details alright?”

Your face scrunches in disgust, hands on both sides of your body starting to clench into fists.

“You know I will. I swear, she’s all over me. Next time we’re alone together, it’s on.” Xavier replies, drawing an emphasis on the last word.

Nope, that’s it.

You turn sharply and bring your clenched fists up to your face, resembling the stance of a boxer.

It probably looked a little funny, since you were what, a million feet shorter than him? But you honestly couldn’t have cared less in the moment.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” You hiss, eyes hard and unforgiving.

Xavier stays quiet for a moment, then let’s out a loud laugh.

“And what are you going to do about it, huh? Wednesday’s not here to protect your ass this time.” He drawls, smirk on his crusty thin lips.

He leans in, too close for comfort and whispers, “Wednesday would never give you the light of day. You’re so pathetically in love with her, all of us can see it. But Wednesday’s in love with me.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of something good to say.

“And when we finally fuck, i’ll be sure to send you some photo evidence.”

That does it. You snap, lunging forward and grabbing his hair, pulling harshly.

“Ow! Get off of me!”

It’s hard to remember what happens next, you’re so lost in the fury and rage of it all you can barely register that you’re suddenly on top of him, pummeling his stupid face with all your might.

You grin in satisfaction as you see blood start to make its way from his lips down to his neck.

But your luck doesn’t last very long, and he manages to kick up at a certain weak spot between your legs, leaving you to stumble and hit the floor.

Groaning, you try and get up, but he’s faster. The adrenaline is fading away, and you’re starting to realize that he is in fact a lot stronger, even if you hate to admit it.

You start to lose feeling in the right side of your face, where his knuckles have collided against your skin. Bruises form so fast you almost let out a chuckle, was your skin really that sensitive?

“That’s enough! Xavier get off YN.” The teacher’s voice booms. Could he really not have cut in sooner?

“Enid, take YN to the nurses office.”

You barely register Enid and Ajax rushing over to you, taking you in their arms and dragging you out the classroom.

You smile a toothy grin at them.

“Did I win?” And then everything turns to black.

______

When you wake up again, Enid’s at your side immediately, looking down at you, worry prominent in her eyes.

“YN! Are you okay?”

You nod, only to find out that it’s extremely difficult to move your head and not feel like you just broke every bone in your body.

“I’m good.” You croak.

You look around the room, relieved to find that Wednesday wasn’t there. You don’t think you could bear the look she would give you, so full of worry and so unlike Wednesday.

“Where’s Wednesday?” You manage out, looking at Enid expectedly.

“She hasn’t come back from Jericho yet.” Enid confirms your suspicions, sounding a little uneasy.

“Xavier’s really got to watch his back, I have no idea what Wednesday’s going to do when she finds out about this, but it’s NOT going to be pretty.” She continues, eyes wide.

At that, your own eyes widen, and you try to shake your head.

“No no, Enid, please don’t tell Wednesday about this. I don’t want her to see me in this shape.” You reach for Enid’s hand, making sure she’s looking at you.

“But…”

“Please, Enid. You don’t have to lie or anything, just tell her you don’t know where I am. I’ll be good in a couple of days.” You plead.

“Alright, fine.” She mumbles, taking your hand in hers and rubbing the back in comfort.

——

The next few days are spent in agony. The pain is starting to subside, but you still look like a beat up raisin. Purple and green bruises litter your skin, but the real sense of pain is coming from the distance between you and Wednesday.

You two had grown….very somewhat close the last few months, though the both of you would never admit it.

It was extremely hard trying to avoid Wednesday, and even harder to cover the bruises on your face. One good look and you knew she would’ve figured it out.

So for the past week, you’ve stumbled into bushes, fallen over benches, and hit the corridor walls in an attempt to swerve from Wednesday many times.

Every time she tried to approach you, you’d hang your head low, never meeting her eyes.

It was going well for the most part, until Ms.Thornhill had decided she wanted people to work in pairs.

You crossed your fingers, praying to the lord that you didn’t even worship you wouldn’t be stuck with Wednesday.

But to no avail, your luck once again ran out.

“Wednesday Addams, YN LN.”

You sigh loudly and make your way over to sit next to Wednesday, still avoiding her eye at all costs.

Most of the lesson is spent in silence, both of you lost stirring in your thoughts.

Then, “Why have you been avoiding me?” Wednesday says, hurried, like she couldn’t help it from slipping.

You sigh, for what feels like the millionth time that day, and manage a quiet, “I haven’t been avoiding you Wednesday.”

It comes out so weak, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself.

“Yes you have. I want to know the reason, have I done something wrong? Maybe I said something to hurt your….feelings?” She pauses before the last word, tone turning uncertain.

You frown.

“No of course not Wednesday, I just…” You trail off.

You turn to Wednesday, determined to give the performance of a lifetime, but forget that your face still looks like a bruised peach, and you definitely shouldn’t look her in the face.

You let out a final sigh and pull the head of your hoodie down, feeling small under Wednesdays stare.

Her eyes widen a little at the sight of you, and worry fills them. You can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness at how much she seems to care, letting the emotionless mask slip for a second.

She stands up suddenly, startling you and the 20 other people in the room.

“Ms. Thornhill, may YN and I please be excused?”

Wednesday doesn’t wait for Ms.Thornhill to answer before taking you by the wrist and dragging you out.

She doesn’t say a word until she gets to her dorm, quickly opening the door and throwing you in.

“Wednesday?” You squeak.

She turns and reaches out to touch your face, thumb rubbing just the slightest on your bruises.

A gentleness she didn’t know she possessed took over, still moving her hand in small circles all over your face.

“Who did this to you?” She murmurs, and her voice is filled with such intense worry it makes you want to break down.

Your head falls down on instinct, staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting piece of art in the world.

Wednesday grips your chin and tilts your face back up, inches away from you.

Then she’s placing her hands on your waist, hands rigid, like she’s nervous.

You look so vulnerable, and she might’ve even say sort of adorable, she can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to your cheek, on top of the scar.

Your breath hitches in your throat, body stiff.

She continues giving you little pecks all around the bruises, and you relax in her arms.

After a while, she pulls away, and you grab at her on instinct. She lets you, body pressing up to yours once again.

“You never answered my question.” She says.

“Xavier. He said something bad about you, but it doesn’t matter now. This is much better.” You mumble as you dig your face in her uniform.

She tenses up at this.

“He’s going to die a slow, painful death. And not the satisfying kind.” She decides, hand wrapping around your waist protectively.

You hum, “Who cares? I just wanna stay like this.”

The two of you don’t say much after that, content in simply being in each other’s presence.

-

When you get to class the next day, you bite back a smirk when you see Xavier’s positively beaten up face.

You walk over to him, acting all nonchalant.

“Yeah dude. She’s soooo into you.”

-

A/N: I kinda really enjoyed writing that, ty anon! Wednesday’s such a sweet softie on the inside.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader

[twilightcitysky]

This post is less Good Omens- related and more personal, but there's been a lot of arguing over "representation" in the fandom the past few days. The strong feelings people express are awesome but ALSO I really want us in the community to appreciate and listen to one another.

People want to KILL queer people. There are still many, many places where it is not safe to have any identity other than cis het. Fighting that means sticking together, not tearing each OTHER apart. Allosexual, asexual, lesbian, gay, cis, trans, nonbinary, gender queer, GNC... we're all part of this community and we're stronger together.

In Good Omens, Neil Gaiman gave us a glimpse of what a world could be if people got to decide for themselves how to present and who to love without the hate and prejudice that inevitably comes along with that in the real world. I know people are questioning exactly what Crowley and Aziraphale are and how they identify, which is fine (honestly I don't know that we'll ever find out for sure. It may be something private between the two of them). But saying things like "it's homophobic" (for them to be ace), or "it's acephobic" (for them to be gay) sort of defeats the purpose of "it's a love story", doesn't it? At the end of the day, maybe it doesn't matter what EXACTLY they are. They're unapologetically QUEER and their story is for and about all of us.

It's okay to disagree. It's okay to ask questions. I mean, that's the moral of Good Omens, isn't it? We don't have to be the same; we SHOULDN'T all be the same... there's strength and beauty in our differences. But even if we don't all agree with one another, let's support each other.

I see them as gay male coded beings who have chosen that identity for themselves and would enjoy sexual pleasure as much as any other earthly pleasure. If YOU see them as agender or nonbinary sexless entities who are QPR or ace or aroace and would never have sex, I SUPPORT THE HELL OUT OF YOUR RIGHT TO DO SO. I'm in your corner and I will fight for you.

Love you all. Love that we love the ineffable love story of Good Omens, whatever form that takes, and let's lift each other up rather than tearing each other down.

#good omens #good omens adjacent #representation matters #queer community #stronger together #fandom #differences in opinion are lovely and fascinating #it does not mean anyone is wrong or trying to be discriminatory #let's be real plenty ARE #but let's us queers have discourse without the venom? #we're all on the same team #queer representation

[demonichikikomori]

Flex

Sebek Zigvolt x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.9k+ Tags: MC is Checkin’ Out the Gun Show/Suggestive

Art by 〇 on Pixiv!

I am not against Sebek Zigvolt Propaganda… HOWEVER! I wish he would use his indoor voice a little more. He... His VA speaking normally is nice. I... Ahem... This was technically made as a birthday gift for the wonderful @ruggiethethuggie since the other gift is still... Unfinished... And I'm sorry... I will finish it one day... Please accept this for now my dahling and happy birthday hehe. I would've wrote some Rizzley content but... I don't feel confident yet wwwww. Anyway, have a Hellishly Happy Birthday! <3 <3 <3

SUMMARY:

You asked Sebek to flex for you. Why? Ace said if you could get a photo of him flexing before the end of the night, he would do all of your Animal Linguistics homework for a month! How hard could it be?

“Human, what are you attempting to ask of me?!” Sebek was already shouting. His brows furrowed and thick forearms flexed beneath his black blazer as his arms crossed over his chest. Thankfully you met with him outside near the gardens so his voice wasn’t echoing through the halls of Night Raven College. “I want to take pictures of you flexing.” You responded with feigned confidence in your voice, struggling to keep yourself from warbling or looking anywhere but his face. You never actually dreamed of asking Sebek such a thing. You also never planned to speak with him unless you had to. This was brought about as a dare from Ace Trappola. If you can get a picture of Sebek flexing for you, he would do ALL of your Animal Linguistics homework on your behalf for a straight month. It sounded easy when Ace offered up the proposal. Key word: Sounded. 

Sebek was staring down at you with a face full of suspicion, his lips curling with mild disgust. You could see how sharp his cuspids were. “Why are you asking me for such a thing?! Could it be you are searching for my weak points?! I won’t let you find them! I am Malleus’ impenetrable shield!” He roared and reached for his magical pen, causing you to take three nervous steps back with your hands held up in defense. “No! No! No it’s not like that! It’s nothing to do with Malleus!” You cried out as Sebek clutched the glowing pen in his grasp. His eyes narrowed angrily as you scrambled to find an excuse. “Then why would you want to get a photo of me exposed?” He snarled with venom in his tone. You could feel your face becoming warm from the way he phrased the question. “Don’t say it like that! Just know that I need to get a picture of you flexing!” You answered and he still looked unwilling to do anything with you or for you. “It’s for personal reasons!” Still nothing. “I want to try building muscle mass and I wanted a picture for inspiration!” You shouted, you were running out of ideas and you were even more embarrassed now. Your face was on fire and you honestly wished that the Earth would open beneath you and swallow you whole. If Ace was here, he would be laughing so hard his stomach would’ve burst. You couldn’t tell Sebek that Ace sent you, he would downright refuse if he knew the truth. Sebek hesitated before tucking his pen away, a stern look replaced the suspicion and his posture relaxed. “I see. Fear not, Human! For the sake of becoming stronger, I shall agree!” He shouted and you felt your muscles relax hearing him comply. “Under one circumstance!” Damn it. He crossed his arms over his chest with a confident smile, you could see his eyes glittering with joy. “I wish to see your resolve in exchange for my photo! You shall be exercising with me tonight!” He announced and you felt your jaw fall slack. He expects you to actually exercise with him? The most you’ve ever done was a few meek push-ups during P.E with Coach Vargas. He didn’t give you a chance to refuse as he laughed and walked off, leaving you alone in the courtyard to mentally prepare yourself for tonight.

*+=+*

You arrived late, closer to 11pm since you needed to put Grim to rest before you could sneak out. The atmosphere of Diasomnia was very intimidating, along with the students who stayed within the castle-like dorm. You had only made it a few steps past the heavy, gothic door before running into something. Something very solid. Thanks to this very solid object, it saved you from Lilia trying to offer you a snack or Malleus staring at you in total silence like a freak. You were still as Sebek looked down at you with a frown.

“Human, your eyes seem to fail you! Did you not see me in front of you?!” He shouted, but made no effort to move as you buried your face deeper into his chest. His uniform was absent. Sebek was dressed in a black compression shirt, and dark green sweatpants. The Diasomnia emblem was printed in white on his left thigh. “Sorry. I didn’t see you. Honest.” You spoke into his chest, relaxing against him as you silently admired how sturdy his body truly was. His toned abdomen, his thick pectoral muscles, his solid thighs, and even his large, strong hands now gripping you by the shoulders to shove you away. As he held you at an arm's length away, snapping angrily at you for your lack of awareness, you glanced down to see he was wearing a large pair of fluffy dragon slippers. Cartoonish and cute with tiny wings and a forked, felt, light pink tongue. They were a stark contrast to Sebek’s brash personality. 

“Enough dawdling! You are late, and the Diasomnia curfew had begun two hours prior to your arrival!” He huffed as you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “I told you, I had to wait for Grim to go to sleep first.” You scoffed and walked towards the stairs with him angrily following behind you. He was scolding you the entire time for your ‘timeliness’ and ‘lack of dedication’. But you don’t recall telling Sebek you would be showing up early to work out with him. The two of you entered his room, and you had to be cautious to step over a small pile of books. He was silent, but you noticed he was suddenly flustered. “Stand over there!” He commanded, and you obeyed, taking a spot next to his dresser. 

You couldn’t help but smile as he began to tidy up his room. The books on the floor were cleared away, he hid a stack of papers into a notebook. He closed his closet filled with dark colored clothing, and he tucked his sword underneath his bed. Sebek’s cheeks were red, his face was scrunched into a scowl as he turned and pointed at you. “Now we may begin! Come! Show me your strength!” He commanded as you approached and stood before him, resisting the urge to smother your face in the valley of his broad chest. Sebek gripped your arms gently, giving them a soft squeeze before he observed your limbs one by one. He huffed as his calloused fingers slid across your skin, gliding along your forearm down to your nails. “Hm. Your health could be better, but we will make you a mountain of muscled perfection with plenty of training!” Sebek boasted with a gentle smack to your shoulders, causing you to flinch. You frowned at the idea of becoming nothing but pure muscle… Like a pro-wrestler?

“I will show you my basic exercises first, and because it is late, we will have you participate in our next meet!” He let you go before getting down to the floor. You sighed with relief, knowing you wouldn’t have to exert too much of your energy tonight. You’d need it for the long walk back to Ramshackle. “Human! Get on top of me!” He shouted, taking you by surprise as you looked down at him with your brows knit together.

He was in a push up position,.his head facing the floor as you nervously looked around. “Uhhh..?” You weren’t sure how to get on top of him. “Sit on me!” His voice was loud enough to rattle the walls and you were starting to feel flustered. “Okay, okay! Stop saying that!” You hoped that the walls were thick as you swung a leg over Sebek’s body, and slowly sat down on his lower back. Your feet were planted on the floor and you could see him slowly lowering himself to the ground, causing your legs to bend as you nervously looked towards the door. Now you were begging that everyone in the dorm was asleep. “Lift your legs, trust me to hold your weight on top of me!” He snapped, sounding agitated by your feet on the floor. “Oh my god- Sebek please talk quieter…” You whined as you lifted your legs and crossed them below his shoulder blades. He did not falter, instead, his push-ups began to quicken. 

You sucked in air with widened eyes as he continued the steady pace of his push ups. “You make an excellent addition of weight, Human! You are the perfect size for me to become stronger for the sake of Malleus!” He laughed as you could see sweat collecting at his temples. His usually slicked back hair was falling loose around his face. You didn’t think he would have such ease with a human sized weight on top of him. How heavy were the dumbbells he usually lifted?! “Your arms look far too weak to hold my weight! So, I will show you mercy tonight!” He barked with a soft grunt, lowering himself to the floor again with a laugh. You couldn’t fathom how the conversation sounded out of context. Here you are, showing up late at night to meet with Sebek, and he can’t handle using an inside voice. Saying all of these strange things so late at night, hopefully no one gets any strange ideas. You reached for your phone, pulling it from your pocket as you observed the time. You only had ten minutes to midnight.

“Sebek, we should take a quick break!” You suggested as his push ups showed no sign of slowing down. You were sure he had already done over 50 by now. “A break?! I have hardly broken a sweat!” He sounded annoyed with your request and you started to squirm on top of him. “I need that motivational photo of you, remember?!” You announced as he finally slowed to a stop. “That’s right! How could I have forgotten?!” Sebek allowed you to climb off of him, the both of you getting to your feet as your heart began to race. Sebek towered above you, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck as you lifted your phone with your face started to grow warm. 

He stood before you with a proud smile, and flexed his arm for you to behold. You quickly snapped the picture, only five minutes to midnight. You could see the thick muscular arm sporting a long vein in the photo, paired with Sebek’s very handsome and proud smile. You stared at the photo in shock, observing the outline of his chest through the tight shirt, his long sharp fangs, the crease in his eyebrows… Everything. 

His bicep suddenly flexed around your throat as he let out a hearty laugh. Your oxygen was being stolen away with each light squeeze and your face began to redden. But it wasn’t from the lack of air. “Human! We certainly must meet again for your training! With such weak arms, you’ll never become as strong as me! And a happy birthday to you. We will build your body so in the next year, we may fight properly!” He laughed as you groaned in response, your phone now dangling loosely in your fingers as you sent Ace the photo as your other hand tapped against his arm. You might pass out if he doesn’t let you go soon. But at least you won’t have to worry about homework for the next full month. 

Tagged Accounts: @ruggiethethuggie @cvlutos @candlewitch-cryptic @yandere-kou @epelorchard

#sebek zigvolt #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt x yuu #sebek zigvolt x mc #sebek x reader #hellishly. happy. birthday #sebek fluff #sebek x yuu #sebek x y/n #sebek x mc #sebek twisted wonderland #sebek twst #sebek zigvolt fluff #suggestive

[gffa]

So, I fucking loved The Living Force, I found it to be one of the most Jedi-positive books out there, and look I can't guarantee you that you'll feel the same way, this book only gets the Lumi stamp of approval, not the "you'll definitely love this as a fan of the Jedi" stamp of approval, so take that as you will. But this book took such care to give the Jedi Council members different fun personalities, that even when Saesee was a total grump, he was a funny grump and one who clearly dove right into helping people, that even when it was Qui-Gon who issued the challenge, the book showed it as an excuse for the Jedi Council members to take some time off to go do what they were choosing to do, that their good acts were their own, not Qui-Gon's. This book took such care to give moments to the Jedi discussing why they put their efforts where they did and showed that they all loved helping people, none of them felt this was beneath them for a moment, only that they felt they could help more people by doing their regular Council duties most of the time. The discussions they had weren't about castigating themselves, but about discussing where their balance should be, that their work as a Council was always seen as necessary, that they very much did need to look towards the future, but that they as individual Jedi sometimes needed a reason to do something more individual. Because of that good-faith feeling in the narrative, other things also came off really good-naturedly, like Ki-Adi-Mundi often was stilted or just did not understand the point of some of this ridiculousness, but he was never painted as uncaring, but instead very much came off to me like he was on the spectrum and that that was fine, it was part of the feeling of how each of these characters is allowed a different personality and allowed to see duty and the Force and their lives differently, that there was emphasis put on how the Council prized those differences because it helped make them stronger.

And the author clearly had an absolute blast writing Yarael and Even Piell especially, they were hilariously fun and there is SO MUCH FUNNY BANTER, like there's so much friendly teasing between characters, there's so many little moments that show these people care about each other and have fun with each other, that there's no doubt that this Council is full of life and light. I also really enjoyed Mace and Depa's dynamic, that it's clear he cared about her and still worried about her, but he trusted her to take care of herself, that Depa's part of the storyline was a bit more subdued in a lot of ways, but she was thoroughly competent and trusted to understand what she was getting into. Mace does fuss over her a bit in the end, but she's strong enough to stand up for herself and he takes it in stride because she's a Jedi Master now and knows what she's doing, that she's trusted to be right about what's going on and how this should be handled, as well as her deep care for the people she gets involved with around her.

The only real heads up I would give (other than to caution that the opening chapters might make you side-eye a bit, but I ask a little patience with the book) is that it's in a specific worldbuilding genre, that it's not really about the spiritual aspect of the Jedi Order worldbuilding, but instead more about administrative worldbuilding and the action plot. But if you're into that (and I was so into that because I love worldbuilding detail!) and into the Jedi Council being hilarious and getting time to basically take a vacation, then I hope you'll enjoy this book with me, too. I know what the interview from the author said, but honestly I felt none of that with the book, it felt like a story that really understood the increasing complexity of the galaxy around them and that there weren't any easy answers, that the future does matter, even if so too does the present, that what the Council does as a Council is vital to the good work the Jedi Order does, but that this provides them with the breathing space to balance it with their own individual ways of being a Jedi, which is simply giving them some breathing room and letting them flourish on their own!

#lumi.txt #star wars #the living force #the living force spoilers #novels: the living force