#Part Of Your World Piano | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dcxdpdabbles · 4 months ago

Text

#holiday request

Another chapter of Alley Boyfriends, if you don't mind, I love it so much. If not, no worries. I love your work and love to reread your stuff. May your food be filling and your bills be paid!

Danny carefully adds the finishing touches to the seahorse he’s carefully designing on the surface of Tim’s mug of coffee. He’s been practicing his latte art because business has been slow at Heart Attack in secret. The previous week, he had seen Tim watching videos of strangers creating works of art using the foams of their coffee with blatant awe.

The Halfa will admit to the sight of wonder on Tim’s face when the flashier artist created swans with colored foam, and his heart gave the oddest flutters. It had been so brief but intense that Danny had feared a new power was unlocking in their living room.

Thankfully, the moment passed quickly, but Tim’s expression lingered in his mind. Danny had abandoned the piano to search somehow for videos of latte art within the next minute of that strange heart flutter.

Danny had learned how to play from Wes in an ill-fated attempt to get the ginger to date him. Danny hadn’t been able to get the ginger to be his boyfriend, but he learned a skill he enjoyed. His parents bought him a second-hand stage piano that he had used for the few years he lived with them.

It broke sometime in senior year- he thinks Young Blood had blasted him through it- and he hadn’t bothered getting a replacement. Mainly because he couldn’t be concerned, as it was a hobby he hadn’t time to participate in once he got close to graduation. It would have remained a forgotten past time had the apartment not come with the grand piano.

The sound was so much richer, with a resonating tone that bypassed his skin and sunk into his soul. Danny could not let the thing of beauty go to waste. He often found himself sitting on the bench, letting his fingers dance off the keys, finding melodies and rhythms that welcomed him home like a returning hero of a fairy tale.

He didn’t think he was skilled at it, but sometimes, when he played, Tim would move closer. His eyelids would flutter close, lying on the nearby couch and listening to Danny play with a half-smile on his face. Sometimes, Tim would fall asleep, seemingly at peace, as Danny strung through Dance of the Blessed Spirits only a few feet away.

Despite all the coffee Danny had provided him with, Tim was starting to develop a better sleeping schedule. The bags under his eyes slowly faded, and he was physically fit. Tim used their apartment building gym all the time, but his skin was gaining a glow previously not there.

He also seems much happier. Danny checked off another box of Tim being a ghost in development, with his Heart Attack Coffee being a big part of his obsession. Maybe it would not be his sole purpose when he passed, but Danny suspected that the coffee was associated with a good memory that fundamentally shaped Tim’s sense of self.

Danny didn’t like to think too hard about it. He’s gotten comfortable with death, seeing it as a natural part of life now that he spent so much time around the Death-Brought Ghosts, but the idea of Tim passing always twisted his heart into knots.

Sharp, painful knots that leave him fleeing from the dark thoughts as fast as possible. It would be years before Tim would no longer be part of this world. He had better things to do, like adding bubbles and seaweed around the seahorse and taking time to add as many little details as he could to create the scene of a lovely underwater image.

Danny finishes just as the kitchen clock- an expensive cuckoo clock that had golden trimmings, blending so well with the dark wood and gorgeous forest theme carvings that Danny had fallen in love with the second he spotted it at a street art festival that the pair had stumbled upon during a drive they took. Tim bought it when he realized Danny liked it, and it hung up that night. - goes off with a loud chime.

Another day has officially ended.

His roommate would be up soon for whatever he does at nighttime, where he vanished for hours, coming home nearly always after witching hours, exhausted and bruised. Danny would linger in the living room for a bit if he was awake before heading to his room with a half-made excuse.

Tim would then sleep for a few hours before he was up again, rushing around the apartment to gather his things and be out for his daytime work. A lot of his job he can do at home, but Tim was important enough that he sometimes had to go to work in person.

In the three weeks that the two have moved in together, Danny hasn’t been braved enough to ask what his roommate did for a living. He knows Tim held some big corporate job- where and what he did there was a mystery- but his second job was vague and downright denied at worst.

Whenever Danny hinted so much about what he was doing at night, Tim moved the subject away. He didn’t flat out deny answering Danny’s probing, as more as he danced around the question so well, Danny found himself waltzing in a different direction before he realized what had happened. Tim had a silver tongue that was wielded like a sword, sharp, cutting, and deadly.

It was mildly alarming, mainly because Danny had no idea what Tim was involved in. Something big, something likely bad. It could be the only explanation for the large amount of seemingly never-ending funds and the odd hours that Tim kept.

A boring office worker by day and who knows what by night.

He also always came back home half stumbling over his feet. There was even that one time when Tim had been half-dressed, his knuckles split, and hard anger set at his jaw. Danny had been caught up with a new show, only realizing the late hour once his roommate had practically shut the door.

The pair stared at each other. Danny bathed in the glow of the TV while Tim was shirtless and standing in the shadows of the front door. He wanted to ask thousands of questions, but Danny had only lifted the heated blanket- a gift from Tim- when he learned how affected Danny was by the cold.

Tim’s face softened as he barreled into the warmth and snuggled into the couch cushions, joining Danny in watching a Korean rom-con that the Halfa had been in the middle of. He had no idea what the plot was or who the characters were, but by the end of the third episode, Tim’s head had fallen on Danny’s shoulder so deeply asleep that he didn’t feel Danny wrapped up his knuckles or carried him to his room.

Despite this, Danny didn’t move out. He didn’t stop providing Tim with his much-loved coffee. If anything, he took his worries, boxed them up, and stubbornly turned a blind eye to the worrying signs that Tim was showing.

A door opens behind him. Tim walks out, an overnight bag thrown over his shoulder as he speed walks through the living room. His roommate is scrolling on his phone, tapping a rapid-fire response to whoever he is chatting with. Danny could see the bubble messages screen even if he couldn’t make out the words before sighing. “I’ll be out all night. I’ll probably be back tomorrow around noon.”

A pool of dread piles in his stomach, but Danny pushes it away. “Alright.”

He holds out the mug, drinking in every facial feature shift as surprise blooms over Tim’s face before it melts into tenderness when he sees the shape of the latte art. It was painstaking to learn how to make a realistic-looking one on such a problematic canvas, but Danny is happy he spent time on it. After all, Tim’s favorite animal was the seashore, so he needed to make sure it looked good.

Only a few people knew that from what Danny gathered from Tim's few mentions while working on their three notebooks. He also thinks Tim doesn’t often tell people his favorites, but Danny has been paying close attention whenever Tim reacts positively to the world around him. The way Tim’s eyes sparkled when Danny clicked on a sea documentary where the small, shaped fish had been a main feature. Danny had found it adorable how Tim seemed unaware that he would randomly blurt out a new fun fact about the seahorses in the following few days.

“When you learn to make this?” Tim asks, curling his fingers around the mug. Danny’s heart leaps in his chest at the tender warmth glowing in Tim’s eyes as he gazed at him. Coughing into his hand, he waves his hand.

“I had some time since there hadn’t been a lot of customers lately. Ever since that Dr. Freeze threat, people have been avoiding the café.” Danny ignores the guilt he feels about that.

The other day, his powers had gone out of control after he made the mistake of going too long without using his ice, and when he developed that stupid head cold, he accidentally froze the street.

One coughing session later, the entire neighborhood ran to take shelter, panicking that the rouge had chosen their homes for his newest mayhem. Thank goodness the villain had actually broken out of Arkham the previous day, so no one batted an eye at the fact the ice surrounding a single barista was in the middle of closing up for the night.

“It’s amazing, Danny,” Tim tells him, quickly snapping a picture with his phone before he takes a sip. His eyelashes flutter as he savors the flavor, this one is the original Batman theme coffee that Heart Attack discontinued.

Danny found the receipt in an older binder while doing inventory. Tim had tackled him in an enthusiastic hug the second he tried it and recognized the familiar taste.

“Thanks.” He blushes, trying not to notice that the bubbles have shifted slightly, resembling hearts instead of circles. Moving his eyes away from where the foam disappears into Tim’s lips, Danny mentally kicks himself for being weird about his fake boyfriend’s drinking.

He picks up the mug lid on the counter, turning it around in his hands while Tim takes another quick sip. There is some leftover steam milk on his lips when he pulls away, and the colorful seahorse is gone now. His core pulses, making a shiver run down his spine as Tim’s pink tongue darts out to lick away the teal green.

Danny coughs again as frost gathers on his back. Thank goodness he can feel it on his skin, which means it likely hasn’t passed through his comfortable sweater. He hasn’t told Tim about his powers, and he isn’t sure he wants to.

Gotham is an anti-meta city. Tim was as Gotham as they came. He can’t stand the thought of his roommate growing to hate him, especially for something that wasn’t precisely meta, but was the closest thing he was.

He leans forward, carefully sealing the mug. This was one of Tim’s favorites among his collectible mugs, primarily because it could shift into a traveling beverage holder.

Tim smiles at him. “I’m heading out then. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, stay safe,” Danny tells him to walk him to the front door. He stands there, feeling like he’s waiting for something to happen. But he isn’t entirely sure what that is, so all he does is lean against the wall as Tim slips on his running shoes, juggling his drink, phone, and bag. Danny smiles warmly when Tim raises his mug at him in a fast toast before he slips through the door, leaving their apartment with a soft “Sleep well, Danny.”

The wood of their door seals shut without a sound- apparently, the rich didn’t believe in noise because everything in the apartment was somehow soundproof. Tim moved like a shadow, rarely making a sound. Danny, by comparison, sounded like a bull in a china shop.

Once, when Danny apologized, Tim laughed.

“I like it, " he said while lounging in the hot tub on the balcony. Danny was on the other side, the warm water doing wonders for the frost forming at the bottom of his feet. Thankfully, the water hid it from Tim’s sight. “It’s like you breathe life into the apartment with your noise.”

“Stay safe,” Danny says to the empty apartment. “Come home tomorrow.”

He rubs his face and figures he should head to be. It was ten at night, but Tim clarified that he wouldn’t return anytime soon. He’s tired from the previous three nights when he waited for Tim to come home. Thankfully, his shifts had been moved to the afternoon, so it didn’t mean much if Danny stayed up until three am for his roommate.

He strides by his piano, running his hand along the closed case of the keys without seeing it, for his gaze is locked on the city that glows under his window. It’s been nearly a month, and he’s still not used to the view of Gotham from this height. The penthouse towers over most of Gotham, and the city seems beautiful from up here. A Decorative lie of the danger that waited in the wake of anyone down on their luck.

This place was like a Siren. Beautiful and alluring until its claws and teeth dug into someone’s skin, dragging them to the darkest depths where no one could hear their screams. He prays that whatever Tim is involved doesn’t let Gotham swallow him whole.

Danny’s fingers accidentally come upon cloth, making him snap his chin down to see what had been placed on the wood and blink at the side of Tim’s discarded sleeping long-sleeve shirt. His roommate peeled it off earlier tonight when he wanted to walk around in his shirt sleeve and flung it somewhere to take a quick nap before he left.

His fingers close around the fabric, slowly bringing it up to his face, breathing in Tim’s distinctive scent mixed with the soft lavender of his fabric softener. Danny hesitates for only a few seconds before taking off his sweater and slips on Tim’s long sleeve, allowing himself to find comfort in the familiar scent surrounding him.

He lets his sweater pool on the floor in the living room as he wanders to his room, crashing under his blankets and pressing the fabric of Tim’s clothes to his face. Eventually, he is lured to sleep, dreaming of playing in Gotham’s largest theater, hands flying over the keys at a skill level he does not possess. He moves with the music, uncaring that the seats are empty except for one.

That one belongs to Tim, who watches him perform with the same tenderness as his latte art inspired, but instead of a drink, Danny’s music causes that expression.

It’s the best dream he had in a long while.

As he dreams, he is unaware of the figure checking in on him, hanging from a grabbing hook near his window. The figure smiles when its white lens notices how Danny is curled up in a ball before it zips to the roof, their cap flaring behind them.

When they land, they reach up to link on their com "Red Robin reporting for duty. Where is Dr. Freeze's last known location? I want him caught tonight."

"Good night to you, too," Oracle responds. "Any particular reason we're in such a hurry for the capture of Dr. Freeze."

"He's making it hard for the hard-working people of Gotham to work," He huffs, knowing the rest of the bats will correctly link his complaint to his roommate.

There is a loaded pause before Red Hood grunts. "I got good news for you then. Dr. Freeze has spotted this very afternoon. Meet up at Heart Attack by Crime Alley to compare notes in an hour."

"I'm on my way."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Alley Boyfriends #Part 4 #Holiday Requests #Danny and Tim settle into living togther #Danny love launage are acts of affections #Tim is gift giving'#Is that a crush or a power bomb ready to go boom in Danny?#Danny is hiding his powers #Tim looks super sus to Danny'#The boy hasn't bothered to with Googling

1K notes · View notes

deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

Text

Let's Play Pretend - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband on Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Shocking Split! Y/N L/N Dumps Fiancé After Drug Party Scandal

Betrayal Drama! Y/N L/N’s Manager Caught Stealing Millions for Gambling

Where’s Y/N? The Singer Vanishes Amid Scandals!

“I’ve always wanted to be a singer, but I never had the confidence to stand on a stage—until my music teacher, Mrs. Walls. She believed in me.”

Mrs. Walls sighed as she watched your Grammy interview on TV. You looked radiant, glowing with excitement after winning such a prestigious award. As a music teacher with years of experience, she had worked with many talented students, but you stood out uniquely.

At first, you were the shyest student in her class, hardly speaking above a whisper. But what surprised her the most was your natural gift: a perfect pitch. You could write down the notes to a song after hearing it just once, and you picked up musical instruments with ease. She vividly remembered showing you basic piano chords; within minutes, you were playing along effortlessly. The same thing happened when she introduced the guitar.

Her fondest memories were of you standing shyly at the front of the class, yet lighting up when it came to music. She smiled as she recalled your speeches at award shows: “I wouldn’t be here without my music teacher, Mrs. Walls. She was the first person who put faith in me.”

“That’s the last interview she gave us,” the gossip channel host said dramatically, feigning concern. “It’s been three months since anyone’s seen her. Where is Y/N L/N?”

Mrs. Walls frowned and turned off the TV with an annoyed grunt. “Urgh. Gossip vultures,” she muttered under her breath. She grabbed a glass of lemonade from the fridge and walked out to her garden. She noticed her guest seemed lost in thought, staring off into the distance. It had become a habit whenever she was in the garden.

“You’re not thirsty, huh?” she teased lightly, holding the glass toward someone sitting under the garden umbrella.

The person she handed the drink to was none other than the missing singer, Y/N L/N. For three months, the paparazzi had been on your trail, but they had no idea you were hiding here—in the sanctuary of your former music teacher’s home.

Mrs. Walls still remembered the night you appeared on her doorstep, mascara streaked down your face, eyes red and swollen from crying. You looked nothing like the glamorous star she’d seen on television, but instead like a lost child searching for safety.

“I don’t know where else to go,” you had whispered, your voice trembling.

In that moment, she didn’t see the world-renowned singer. She saw the shy, seven-year-old girl who used to sit in her classroom, clutching her music notebook like a lifeline. She hugged you tightly, her heart breaking for you. “Stay as long as you need, my dear,” she had said softly, ushering you inside.

Since that night, you’d been living quietly in her guest room. The once-vibrant star barely spoke, and the silence worried Mrs. Walls more than she let on. She watched as you avoided stepping outside, terrified of being recognized. The only place you seemed at peace was her garden.

She wondered, How long will you keep hiding like this?

You took the lemonade from her hand with a quiet “Thank you” but set it on the small table beside you without taking a sip. Sitting on the bench, you leaned back, tilting your face up toward the sky. The sun was warm, filtering through the leaves of the garden trees. Through your Ray-Ban sunglasses, you watched the golden rays dance, letting them calm your stormy thoughts.

Here, in this little haven, you could pretend the outside world didn’t exist. The judging eyes, the betrayals, the relentless cameras—everything melted away in the sunlight.

You thought back to three months ago, just after wrapping up your world tour. It had been the most significant milestone in your career, a dream come true. Exhausted but proud, you returned home, excited to move on to the next chapter of your life—starting a family with your fiancé.

But the moment you landed, things began to unravel. You’d called your fiancé multiple times, but he didn’t answer. At first, you thought he was busy, but a nagging feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.

When the truth finally came out, it shattered you. Your assistant broke the news: your fiancé had been busted at a drug-fueled party. Worse, it was also a sex party.

You felt your chest tighten at the memory. That betrayal had cut deep. But it wasn’t the only one.

Later that week, you discovered that your longtime manager, someone you trusted implicitly, had embezzled your money to feed a gambling addiction. Two people you thought you could rely on had betrayed you in the worst ways possible.

One night, overwhelmed and broken, you drove aimlessly, tears blurring your vision. Without any plan or destination, you just kept going until you found yourself parked outside Mrs. Walls’ familiar home.

Even after all these years, she had always been honest with you. When you needed guidance, she gave it without hesitation. If she thought something was right, she’d say, “Go for it, my dear.” If it wasn’t, she’d warn, “No. You deserve better.”

Now, sitting in her garden, you sighed and closed your eyes, letting the sunlight warm your face. For a moment, you could almost believe you were that shy student again before fame and heartbreak had found you.

Mrs. Walls watched you silently, her heart heavy. She wanted to help, but she knew you needed to find your way back on your own.

“How long are you planning to hide here?” she finally asked, her voice gentle but firm.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked at her. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Just like this, Mrs. Walls worried about you. You knew you were taking advantage of her kindness, aware she wanted you to step out of your shell, but you weren’t ready. The thought of facing the questions, the prying eyes, and the silent judgment was too much.

Just a little more time, you thought. That’s all I need. And some peace.

But peace wasn’t always easy to come by.

"VROOM!"

A sudden loud roar shattered the tranquility of the garden. The grating sound of a lawn mower filled the air, making you wince. You covered your ears, irritation flashing across your face.

Your gaze turns toward the source of the noise. “It’s already noon. The sun’s scorching hot—what kind of madman decides this is the best time to mow their lawn?”

“Well…” Mrs. Walls trailed off, watching the man seated atop the lawn mower. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

It's her neighbor, a man who had recently moved in. He wasn’t just any neighbor—he was one of her former students. Not from her music classes, though. He’d been one of the troublemakers, a kid who lived on detention slips and second chances.

“Bucky!” she called out, her voice carrying across the garden.

The man paused, cutting the engine. The deafening noise stopped, leaving an almost eerie silence in its wake. He climbed off the lawn mower, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

You squinted, ready to roll your eyes, but then your gaze lingered for a moment longer than you wanted. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his broad chest glistened with sweat. The sun highlighted the sculpted lines of his six-pack, and every step he took radiated an infuriating confidence.

Great, you thought bitterly. Annoying and ridiculously good-looking. Just my luck.

Mrs. Walls met him halfway, handing him a glass of lemonade. “Thank you,” Bucky said, his voice low and smooth.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled your eyes. “You’re welcome for the noise pollution,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He turned, raising an eyebrow at you. “You’re welcome for cutting the grass, princess.”

“Princess?” you repeated, your tone sharp. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re out here ruining everyone’s peace, and I’m the problem?”

He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, the gesture only drawing more attention to his muscles. “Stop acting like a diva.”

Your jaw dropped. “I am a diva!”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, taking a long sip of lemonade.

“What rock have you been living under?” you snapped, glaring at him.

He rolled his eyes dramatically, his expression shifting to one of mild exasperation. What you didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t as clueless as he seemed. For the past three years, he’d been living under the radar, cutting ties with his old life. His job had demanded secrecy, isolation, and sacrifice. He didn’t have the luxury of keeping up with the world, let alone pop culture or celebrity news.

The truth was, he hadn’t recognized you—not as the world-famous singer everyone else seemed to adore. To him, you were just the frustrating woman who had suddenly appeared in Mrs. Walls’ house and made everything more complicated.

But even as irritation bubbled under his skin, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued. There was a fire in you that clashed with his rough edges, and it both annoyed and fascinated him.

For Bucky, Mrs. Walls had always been a comforting presence—a grandmother figure who offered him advice and a safe space to talk. Her home had become a haven. And then you showed up.

Now, that peace was gone, replaced with constant banter and an energy that made it hard for him to stay indifferent.

Mrs. Walls watched the two of you, her lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. Despite your usual quiet demeanor, you seemed to come alive whenever Bucky was around.

“You two are like a pair of bickering children,” she muttered under her breath.

“Excuse me?” you said, shooting her a look.

“Nothing, dear,” she replied with a knowing smile, sipping her lemonade.

Bucky glanced at you, shaking his head. “You know, for someone who wants peace and quiet, you sure have a lot to say.”

“And for someone who wants to mow the lawn, you sure talk a lot for no reason,” you shot back, folding your arms.

Bucky laughed, low and mocking. “This is going to be fun.”

“Fun for you, maybe,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the garden, though your face was still flushed from the exchange.

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but glance at his retreating figure, hating how effortlessly confident he looked. Bucky, meanwhile, shook his head, pretending not to notice you watching him.

Both of you were equally exasperated—and similarly intrigued.

Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, holding it up between two fingers with a smug grin. “Alright, princess, let’s make a deal. If it lands heads, I’ll keep mowing. If it’s tails, I’ll stop, and you can go back to your precious nap.”

You crossed your arms tightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “I hate this game,” you muttered, watching as the coin gleamed in the sunlight. He always did this—turning everything into some sort of challenge just to get under your skin.

Bucky smirked, clearly enjoying your irritation. “I know. That’s why it’s so much fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, “Tails.”

He nodded mock-seriously, flicking the coin into the air with practiced ease. It spun rapidly, catching the light with every turn before landing in his palm. He slapped it onto the back of his hand, then slowly revealed the result with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Heads,” he declared, his voice full of triumph.

“Ugh!” You threw your hands in the air, frustrated, pushing off the bench. As you stomped toward the house, the wooden slats creaked behind you, muttering, “I’m getting noise-canceling headphones.”

Mrs. Walls watched you retreat inside, shaking her head with a fond smile. She turned to Bucky, who was spinning the coin between his fingers like a magician showing off his trick.

“You really should stop teasing her,” Mrs. Walls said gently, her tone a mix of reproach and amusement.

Bucky shrugged, slipping the coin back into his pocket. His lips curled into a devilish grin. “Nah… it’s fun.”

🌷🌷🌷🌷

You peeked through the blinds, trying not to let the soft rustle of the fabric give you away. Outside, Bucky was still chatting casually with Mrs. Walls. He leaned against the handle of the lawn mower, his broad shoulders relaxed, and his expression unusually serene.

How could he be so normal and polite with her, yet every time he spoke to you, it felt like he lived to make you grit your teeth?

You narrowed your eyes, watching him laugh at something Mrs. Walls said. That face… you thought bitterly. What a waste of a perfectly good jawline and those stupid dimples.

Letting the blinds fall back into place with a soft snap, you turned away and headed to your room.

Inside, the space was dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the glaring afternoon sun. The cool, muted light was a welcome contrast to the irritation buzzing in your head. You kicked off your slippers with a little more force than necessary and flopped onto the bed, burying your face in the pillows.

The mattress was soft, and the faint scent of lavender from the room’s diffuser helped ease the tension in your shoulders. But even as you lay there, trying to block out the world, your mind kept drifting back to the smug grin on Bucky’s face and the way he seemed to revel in riling you up.

“Urgh,” you groaned, rolling onto your side and hugging the pillow close. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to forget about him.

Eventually, the steady hum of the ceiling fan and the distant chirping of birds outside began to lull you into a state of calm. Your breathing slowed, and your grip on the pillow loosened. For now, rest was the only thing you wanted—a reprieve from the relentless antics of your maddeningly handsome neighbor.

🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

The dream came fast and vivid, like a storm. You were running—barefoot, your breath ragged and your heart pounding in your chest. Behind you, shadowy figures loomed, their voices sharp and cruel. The flash of cameras blinded you, their light like fire against your skin. You kept running, your legs aching, but the ground felt like quicksand, pulling you down.

You jolted awake, gasping for air. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as your heart raced, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to your mind. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, you saw the dim, glowing numbers: 2:00 a.m.

Sleep felt impossible now. The stillness of the house, once comforting, now felt suffocating. You swung your legs off the bed and walked to the window, pushing it open. Cool air rushed in, brushing against your flushed skin and carrying the faint scent of dew and earth.

“Should I go out?” you murmured to yourself. It was late—no, it was early—and the world outside was likely asleep. It might be safe.

Pulling on a hoodie and sweatpants, you crept quietly through the house. Every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made your pulse spike, but you pressed on, determined. When you reached the door, you hesitated, your hand resting on the doorknob.

Flashes of the past flooded your mind—the crowd of paparazzi outside your apartment, shouting your name, their cameras clicking incessantly, their relentless pursuit. You clenched your eyes shut and took a deep breath.

“It’s different here,” you whispered, willing yourself to believe it. Slowly, you pushed the door open and stepped outside.

The cool grass greeted your bare feet as you stepped off the porch, the gentle night breeze brushing against your face. There was no one. No voices. No flashing lights. Just silence and the soft rustling of leaves in the dark.

You exhaled deeply, relief washing over you like a wave. One tentative step after another, you left the house, the distance growing between you and your sanctuary.

You wandered toward the park, the faint glow of streetlights guiding your way. The world felt peaceful, and for the first time in months, so did you—until the faint hum of an engine broke the stillness.

You glanced over your shoulder, your pulse quickening. A car was following you, its headlights low but its presence unmistakable. Then you saw it—a glint of metal, the unmistakable outline of a camera lens.

Shit. They’d found you.

Your heart pounded as the car crept closer. Picking up your pace, you started walking faster, then broke into a run.

“Y/N! Where have you been?” a voice called out from the car, loud and intrusive.

You didn’t answer, your breath quickening as you pushed yourself to move faster.

“Have you heard your ex-fiancé has rekindled things with his ex?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. What? Your mind reeled. You hadn’t even ended things officially, and he’d already moved on? That bastard. While you were here, broken and dealing with trauma, he was playing house?

“Is it true you gave money to your manager, knowing about his gambling addiction?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, glaring at the man hanging out of the car window. “No! I didn’t know! Leave me alone, you jerk!”

You started running again, your breath burning in your lungs, your legs aching. Desperation clawed at you as the car followed relentlessly. Then you saw him—a familiar figure jogging under the streetlights.

“It can’t be,” you whispered.

Without thinking, you sprinted toward him, your voice frantic. “Bucky! Help me!”

Bucky stopped mid-stride, his brows furrowed as he saw you running toward him. His routine early-morning jog had just turned unusual. His sharp eyes quickly took in the distress written all over your face. Before he could react, you leaped behind him, clutching the back of his hoodie and crouching slightly to shield yourself.

He stiffened, caught off guard. Then he saw it—a car slowing down, its passenger wielding a camera that kept flashing incessantly. The bright lights blinded him momentarily, and irritation sparked in his chest.

“Hey!” Bucky growled, marching toward the car. The camera flashes continued, and without hesitation, he snatched the camera from the paparazzo’s hands and smashed it against the pavement.

The paparazzo’s jaw dropped in shock. “My camera!” he yelled, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces.

But he wasn’t done. Pulling out his phone, the man began recording. “You’re a dead man! Who the fuck are you? Her boyfriend? Bodyguard?”

Bucky, his irritation mounting, opened his mouth to correct him, but before he could, you blurted out, “He’s my boyfriend.”

Bucky froze, glancing over his shoulder at you. Your grip on his hoodie tightened as you peeked around him, glaring at the paparazzo.

The man in the car stared at the two of you, his phone still recording. “This is going to be front-page news.”

Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell did you just drag me into?” he muttered under his breath.

Exciting News!

I’m thrilled to announce the release of my new book, Dad, I Can’t Let You Go—a heartfelt collection of short poems about loss, love, and the journey of missing someone deeply. This book is dedicated to my father and to anyone who has experienced the pain of losing a loved one.

Available now on E-Kindle Amazon!

Dad, I Can't Let You Go! <<< Here's the link.

Thank you for your support, and I hope these poems resonate with you.

Join the taglist 💖💖💖

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@barnesxstan

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@mrs-maximoff-kenner

@lostinspace33

@read-just-cant

@hzdhrtss

@globetrotter28

@bubblegumbeautyqueen

@mrsnikstan

@maryssong23

404 notes · View notes

music-in-my-veins14 · 11 months ago

Text

youtube

#Part Of Your World #The Little Mermaid #Disney #Piano #Music #Youtube

0 notes

himasgod · 8 days ago

Note

hello :3 i just discovered your blog, and your incredible! so i wanted to request smth for twisted wonderland! housewardens with a yuu who made music in their world & has stopped after coming to twisted wonderland? their genre is sad indie rock, like lana del ray or jeff buckley!! up to you how they find out! thank you for your time!!

Where they discover that you are a composer and singer of sad songs

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

How would the housewardens react if they somehow found out that in your world you were a writer and singer of sad indie songs, and that you stopped when you arrived in Twisted Wonderland?

It contains a bit of angst? Not too much, rather gentle. reader sings to express their feelings.

From the first day you arrived at NRC, you became a source of questions for Riddle. You weren't a troublemaker like Ace or Deuce. You didn't break the rules. But there was something that puzzled him: the way you looked at the world. As if you'd already lost everything.

Riddle noticed it when he accidentally heard you singing. It was one early morning, when he was returning to his dorm after an inspection. He found you sitting in the greenhouse, with an old guitar Cater had gotten for you. He was going to be furious, because he didn't know what you were doing out of your bedroom at that hour, but listened to you a little. The strings creaked a little, but your voice… it hurt. It was low, fragile. Like a silver thread about to snap.

“And if I ever loved, it was among the ruins, where no one listens and the sky falls…”

He froze in the doorway. Those lyrics weren't meant to be heard by just another student. They were pure confession. Riddle didn't know what to say and stepped back quietly. But from then on, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

Over time, he approached you. He asked about your world. About that music you no longer composed.

"Why did you stop composing?" he said to you one day, while you were drinking tea together in Heartslabyul.

"Because no one here wants to hear sad songs. They don't fit with the tea, the rules, or the cardboard smiles."

Riddle clutched his cup. He'd never cared about music, but with you, it was different.

"Maybe… you should break a rule," he murmured without looking at you.

It was the first time Riddle invited you to do something outside of protocol. Not because he wanted to break the rules, but because he couldn't stand seeing you suppress the only part of you that spoke without fear.

From then on, he let you use the greenhouse at night. And sometimes, just sometimes, he sat beside you and listened in silence.

Azul had always been a man of contracts and cold logic. But you… you caused him an inexplicable terror.

Not because you were dangerous. On the contrary. Because you were too honest.

In the lounge of the Mostro Lounge, you found an old dusty piano. You offered to play one quiet night, without customers. Azul accepted, thinking it would serve as a distraction for him.

He hadn't expected your songs to unearth emotions he'd sealed in the deepest corners of the ocean.

Your voice was like the sea currents that drag sunken ships.

“Everything you promised washed away with the tide… and yet, I stayed underwater waiting for you.”

Azul gulped after the first song. He didn't say anything. He just cleaned his glasses and returned to the lounge. But he started calling you more often, asking you to “practice” after closing time. He paid you with free drinks, even though you knew it wasn't for business.

It was because he wanted to hear you.

One day, while you were composing in a notebook by the aquarium, Azul approached and spoke to you, almost breathless:

"I don't understand how you can be so vulnerable without fearing being destroyed."

"Because I've been broken before. Singing is the only way I have to rebuild myself."

Azul looked at you as if you were an impossible-to-categorize creature. He wanted to understand you, he wanted to protect you…

And at the same time, he was afraid that your songs would start talking about him.

Because if you ever dared to write about Azul Ashengrotto… he knew he wouldn't be able to hide.

Leona had no patience for sentimentality. Or so he said.

When he met you, you were “that strange person who doesn't talk much and spends her time in the gardens singing depressing things.”

But over time, your melodies began to follow him, even during his naps.

Your voice drifted through the sands, like a memory he didn't want to recall.

“If the sun never rises again, promise me you'll sleep with me, among the rubble of what we once were…”

He didn't say it, but he listened. Always. And one day, after a grueling workout, he sat next to you under a tree. He didn't say anything at first. He just closed his eyes and let you sing.

“Why do you sing those things?” he asked you later, without opening his eyes.

“You seem to be carrying the weight of the world on you.”

“Because it's the only thing I have left of home. My songs were my refuge. Here… I feel like they no longer have any meaning.”

Leona looked at you then, without mockery, without annoyance. For the first time, seriously.

"You don't need a reason to keep doing what you love. The world is shitty enough without taking that away from us too."

And in that instant, without warning, he leaned against your shoulder.

As if he, too, needed a refuge.

From then on, Leona never asked you to stop singing. On the contrary, he sought you out when he needed silence. Not from outside, but from within. Because your voice, though sad, calmed him.

And when, finally, you wrote a song about him, he didn't stop you. He just closed his eyes and listened to the end. And when you finished, he murmured:

"Stay. Even if you don't sing anymore… stay."

Vil found you by accident. A recording of yours was playing in the music club. A lost file someone had rescued from an old MP3 player. When your voice resonated through the speakers, everyone fell silent. Even Rook.

“They sold me dreams in perfume bottles… but they smelled of goodbye from the start.”

Vil stood there, motionless. No one knew it was your voice.

No one except him.

He confronted you that same afternoon. Not with anger but with an unusually serious interest.

"Why didn't you tell me you wrote things like that?"

"Because everything here is for show. And my music isn't."

Vil pursed his lips, as if you'd spoken a truth he didn't want to admit. He, who lived among filters and perfection, felt your lyrics cruelly but necessarily strip him bare.

"Your songs don't need any lights. They're authentic. Brutal, even. But why let them die in this world just because they don't fit in?"

Over time, he offered you something he never offered anyone else: emotional honesty. He listened to your lyrics before anyone else, in private. Sometimes he criticized technical details, but never the soul behind them.

And when you wrote a song inspired by his constant struggle to maintain his perfect image, Vil said nothing for a long time. Finally, he murmured:

"That part where you say 'being beautiful hasn't saved me from emptiness'… it hurts. Because it's true."

From then on, he allowed you to sing for him after his private shows. Not for others. For him.

For Idia, sadness has always been a constant, like a wallpaper you don't even notice anymore. That's why, when he happened to hear one of your old recordings—filed nameless in a corner of the computer system—he thought someone else had hacked his soul.

“I'm still here, even if no one looks for me… like a dead star that still shines in the darkness.”

Idia was scared. Literally.

He avoided you for days. Not because he didn't like you. But because your music made him feel exposed. As if you were reading his darkest thoughts without asking permission.

But one day, he left you an anonymous note along with some headphones and a recording of himself.

“I'm not a poet or a singer, but this is what your music made me feel. Sorry if it's garbage.”

It was a distorted, glitchy sound file, full of static… but in the background, there was your voice, mixed with his, singing a phrase of yours:

“If you get lost, I'll wait for you in the void.”

From that moment on, a strange connection was born between you. You never spoke much in person, but he would send you remixes of your own songs, text you comments, and ideas for new lyrics. Sometimes you would share lyrics without a melody, and he would send you back sounds that felt like digital wails.

And although Idia would never admit to crying to one of your songs… he did save one in his “life.exe” folder.

Kalim was the sun. You were the rain. But for some reason, he kept looking for you.

The first time he heard you sing, he was organizing a party in Scarabia. It was all noise, laughter, and colors. Until you sat down at the piano unbidden.

“Happiness slips through my fingers, like sand underwater…”

The party didn't stop, but something changed. Kalim watched you as if he'd just discovered the sky could cry, too.

After that, he searched for you constantly. He asked you about every lyric, every note, every unspoken tear.

"Did you always feel all that? Even when you smile?"

"Smiling doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, Kalim."

He didn't fully understand, but he wanted to. He started reading your notebooks. Learning your silences. Inviting you to play in more intimate moments, away from the hustle and bustle. Even though he was cheerful, Kalim never made fun of your sadness. On the contrary, he embraced you with all the tenderness he possessed.

"Maybe I don't write sad songs," he told you one day.

"But if you need them to breathe, I want to be there to listen to each one."

And secretly, he began to compose little melodies for you. Poorly written. Out of tune. But made from the heart.

Malleus didn't quite understand the music of your world. At first, he thought it was a strange form of spell. How could a melody have so much power… without magic?

The first time he heard you sing was in a secluded corner of Diasomnia, an old tower with some gargoyles, where you went to avoid being disturbed.

“I am the last word in a story no one wanted to finish…”

Malleus said nothing. He just watched you from the shadows, as if you were a ritual he shouldn't interrupt.

Days later, he appeared before you.

"Your music reminds me of the voice of time, human. Sad. Irreversible."

It surprised you that someone like him understood something so human. But he did. Malleus understood loneliness. Isolation. The feeling of being eternal in a world that ends too soon.

"Why don't you sing so much anymore?" he asked you one night in the rain.

"Because I feel like there's no one who truly listens here."

Malleus approached, slowly, taking your hand.

"I listen. And every word of yours stays engraved in me like a spell. Don't deprive me of that magic."

From then on, he invited you to sing under the stars. Just for him. Because in you, Malleus found something that not even power could give him: a truth that wouldn't disguise itself.

A sadness that wouldn't hide.

And when one day you cried between verses, Malleus simply embraced you with his arms. You were not alone anymore.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted x reader #twisted wonderland one shot #housewardens x reader #riddle x reader #azul x reader #malleus x reader #idia x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #leona x reader #twst x yuu

291 notes · View notes

sidemari · 4 months ago

Text

• "The way I love you"•

A short compilation of each character's ways of showing they love you.

Characters included: Aphelios, Hwei, Jayce, Jhin, Jinx, Sett, Silco, Viktor, Yone (separately and in this order) x GN!Reader

Warning: Mentions of Jhin's gun in his text section, since we're talking about a criminal psychopath, lol. Other than that, it's just a silly and cute post.

Aphelios

He must admit that his favorite place in the world is when you're sitting with him on the couch or even in bed, with your back against his torso, his legs wrapped around yours and his head resting on your shoulder as you read the pages of a book out loud.

"Some things are more precious because they don't last long"* You read the sentence, letting it sink in. "Do you agree with that, Phel?"

His eyes widened, he wasn't really paying attention to the story, even though it was a classic of literature. He was just enjoying how pleasant your voice sounded.

"I bet you weren't paying much attention"

He just nodded, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment.

His hand squeezed yours in apology.

You squeezed it back, letting him know it was okay.

"Aren't you two adorable?" Alune sang in Aphelios's thoughts.

*"The Picture of Dorian Gray" reference.

Hwei

Letting you see his most secret artworks was the way he could show his love for you. Letting you participate in the creation of new pieces was also common, with him patiently guiding you through the process.

"Are you sure about this?" You asked anxiously, trembling when he put the paint-soaked brush in your hands. He just timidly smiled before nodding.

"You inspire not only my art, but my soul as well" His hand covered yours, helping you to put the final brushstrokes on the canvas. "I want you to be part of this"

Jayce

You could say this man likes to be a provider. That being said, he would do anything on his reach to make you happy.

And what usually makes you happy is a whole body massage after a full day of fiddling with trinkets and dealing with daunting equations in the lab.

You sighed in frustration as you laid down on the bed after showering, your aching muscles making you uncomfortable. His hands squeezed your shoulders gently, making you whimper softly.

"You're tense" His hands worked on the right places so you could finally relax. "Let me help you with that"

"You don't have to-" You couldn't finish your line, not when he was so efficiently taking away your pain.

"See?" He teased. "Let me spoil you a little, love"

Jhin

He allows you to play his piano, take off his mask and even hold Whisper - his gun - whenever you pleased. That was his deviant way of showing you were a slightly more important piece in his performance.

"When will you put this to good use, my muse?" He asked, playfully tracing patterns against your thigh with his gun. With the time you’d known him, you knew better than to give in to his distorted ideas.

"Preferably never" You muttered, taking Whisper off his hand and setting it aside. "I learned a new sheet while you were gone, wanna hear it?"

Jinx

She lives for cuddling with you.

It's always the peak of her day.

It feels so intimate and perfect.

Being with you, feeling the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body, the smell of your shampoo and cologne, feeling you melt against her, letting go of your worries as she hums a familiar tune, is the closest thing to heaven she could ever get.

"I could stay like this forever" You whispered, feeling her chuckle against your nape.

"Did you swap your shampoo brand?"

"Jinx…" You deadpanned.

"I'm just teasing you" She kissed your hair. "I could spend eternity with you in my arms"

Sett

This seems so obvious, but not only would he let you freely touch his ears, he would also ask you to give them the attention they need. Also, he would gladly allow you to see through his tough facade, giving you the chance to know how kind and pure he can be.

It was a funny scene, to say the least. A man of almost two meters of height, in his knees, with his head resting on your lap, confessions leaving his lips.

"This feels good…" He sighed, closing his eyes in bliss as you played with his ears. You pulled one of them playfully. "H-Hey!"

"You are really something" You mused.

Silco

Almost every night you can prepare for laying down on the couch, with your head on his lap, his fingers combing through your hair as he tells you stories about his past.

Often you fall asleep like that, with him taking you to your bedroom after he notices you wouldn't wake up so easily.

"We used to meet a lot back then, it was-" He was missing your voice responding to his comments. It was when he noticed you had fallen asleep, looking so vulnerable and precious as he played with your hair. "Guess I'll have to finish this story tomorrow"

Viktor

Brews coffee or makes tea for you every day, appearing by your side on the laboratory to help you unwind in the moments you were feeling exhausted or distressed with your work. It's his way of showing he cares about you.

"Here, have this" he squeezed your shoulders, taking your attention away from the trinkets above your desk.

"Hot chocolate today?" You asked quietly, standing up from your seat and taking the cup in your hands. "What made you change your mind?"

"It releases dopamine, you'll thank me later" He kissed the top of your head, making you sigh in delight.

Yone

Letting you in when his world was nothing but chaos was enough to show you he loved you dearly.

He had faced horrible creatures and devilish days for years straight, still, he let his guard down and allowed you to be part of his life when it was pure hell.

You caressed his hair with delicacy, soothing him after a day of battles.

"Can I hug you?" You asked quietly, your fingers now stroking his cheek.

"Please" He whispered against your lips, sighing heavily when you pulled him impossibly close, "You make me feel like I'm alive again" He muttered against your neck.

#silco x reader #viktor x reader #sett x reader #jinx x reader #jhin x reader #yone x reader #jayce x reader #hwei x reader #aphelios x reader #arcane x reader #arcane fluff

523 notes · View notes

wheneverfeasible · 10 months ago

Text

TW: brief homophobic language

Steve plays the piano.

When he was a kid, Steve’s mom made him take piano lessons. He honestly hated it, hated how strict his instructor was, hated that he had to spend hours practicing when he could have been playing with his new friend Tommy. The thing was, Steve was good at it. He had an ear for music and could pick up songs after just hearing them a couple of times, even if they weren’t piano songs. There were also brief moments that his mom would actually pay attention to him, would sit at the piano bench with him and play her favorite songs.

Around middle school his dad told him that only pansies played piano, cutting an end to his lessons and instead enlisting him in every sport he could. Steve liked sports. He was good at that too, and at first his dad paid attention to him too which was amazing, but it only lasted one season. That was fine. Steve loved sports.

Then Steve met Robin, and they laughed at how horrible Tammy sounded singing, because even all this time he still had an ear for music. Then he met Eddie, and even though it wasn’t really his type of music, he could tell how talented Eddie was whenever he heard the older boy play after the world tried to end but they stopped it.

Steve and Eddie grew closer, and sometimes Steve even attended Corroded Coffin practice if he was free, much to Gareth’s original annoyance, and the music kind of grew on him. Sometimes he’d find himself singing the songs to himself in the shower or doing chores, or tapping out chords on the steering wheel when he drove Robin or the kids anywhere.

Steve was at one of these band’s practices when he noticed a keyboard set off to the side. He vaguely recalled Eddie ranting one day about the band arguing if they were going to add a keyboardist to their group or not, but the idea had been scrapped several months ago when they couldn’t agree on the sound.

During an intermission in the practice, while the band was all inside the house getting fresh drinks (Eddie was getting his for him), Steve hesitated before moving to the keyboard. He’d never played a keyboard before, and it had been years since he touched a piano after his father got rid of theirs when he started sports. He didn’t think he’d even remember how.

Despite this, his fingers moved with assurance over the keys, not playing one of the songs he’d learned in his youth but the song Eddie and his band had been playing just before break. His natural affinity for music had him able to translate the chords into piano keys easily, and he sort of lost himself in the music he plucked out for the first time in his life.

It wasn’t until the ending notes were lingering in the air and the sound of applause began behind them that he realized the band had returned, Eddie’s eyes gleaming above a wide smile while Gareth rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Your boyfriend can join the band,” the curly haired youth said, sounding aggrieved, but there was a curl to his lips that said that he was impressed.

Which was how Steve, former King of Hawkins High, found himself as the fifth member of the metal band Corroded Coffin as its keyboardist.

It also took until a week later, after his first official practice as part of the band, for him to realize that neither he nor Eddie protested Gareth’s claim of them being boyfriends.

#Steve brought in more fans to the band much to Gareth’s annoyance #the added attention helped their rise to fame however #with Steve at the keyboard being the missing part they needed to really make it big #Gareth and Steve quickly went from frenemies to legitimate friends #not that they would ever admit to that #Eddie and Steve officially started dating soon after #the band frequently yells at them to stop flirting when they’re supposed to be practicing #Steve just flips them off and kisses his boyfriend even harder #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #corroded coffin #headcanon #wheneverfeasible #ladyxdarcy #plot thots

954 notes · View notes

phantomsies · 5 months ago

Text

𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 | 𝖆. 𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

spending the evening with a man who could have any girl he wants but he proves why it’s always been you…

producer/nepobaby armin, musician au, black fem reader, dancer!reader (reader is in Pole Assassins), soft sex, back scratching, lots of intimacy, slow kissing, oral sex (f. receiving) body worship, banter between armin and reader, missionary, creampie, slow build/burn (?)

I’ve been suffering from a severe case of armin brain rot lately and I’ve been missing the musician au even more!! this is a reupload from my patreon so if you read this, no you didn’t! 🫶🏾

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

He’d traveled the world once over…experienced a lifetime full of adventures at only a mere two decades into his life. From sailing on yachts as a child, exploring the ocean in between piano lessons and algebra courses…to making music with his friends that would touch the lives of people in every nation and becoming a household name in the process. However, Armin Artlert’s notoriety had transcended that of just playlists and edits by adoring fans. He harbored a reputation that had come to precede him throughout his duration as an artist and internet sensation. The infamous ArminHammer was notorious for two things: iconic instrumentals and his expansive roster of women. Every girl of every variety was at his disposable..models, strippers, actresses, singers, the single mom who happened to attend one of their shows and needed a good time. He wasn’t picky nor did he allow preference to stand in the way of fulfilling his carnal desires. Make no mistake, he didn’t dog his women out or harm them..hell, if anything, he made every girl he encountered feel like a princess. Spoiling them with gifts, expensive dinners and of course, the best sex you’d ever experience! To put it even more bluntly, the man fucked like a professional..he was skilled in many areas and the bedroom happened to be the top.

But perhaps, that was the issue…he was the ideal man in every essence of the word. He’d make any lady feel as if she’d met her prince charming!..

….so how could you ever believe him when he said that you were the one he’d been searching for this entire time?

How could you possibly think that you’d be the sole object of his affection when it seemed those regards could be said of any women who’d crossed his path? Honestly, there was no definite answer to convince you otherwise. Armin was aware that you’d always kept your ear to the streets and had been informed about how he operated. That was all but confirmed when your teammate and friend began dating his childhood homie. Another infamous artist by the name of EJ the Don. Much like the woman who had founded the very group you were a part of, the Pole Assassins, EJ was seen as the proverbial leader of his own collective, Dead Boys Society and although they both despised the labels, you still respected her as such.

you could also sense that Armin held the same regard for his best friend and fellow artist. He looked up to Eren and admired how focused, driven and goal oriented he was in his craft. Most importantly though, he admired the way he loved..

EJ was never known to be a romantic nor was he known to be entrenched in the dating scene, but once he began dating your team mate, he had transitioned into an entirely different man. One that was attentive, doting and even a little jealous. He was openly affectionate with her and never thought twice about it. Gushing about her in interviews, where prior, he would’ve never even mentioned a woman besides his mom. It was that complete switch that had activated something within Armin as well. What he had been seeking in multiple girls could only be found in one place and that was with (y/n) (l/n). He’d spent all this time around you and had found himself falling deeper for you than he had anyone else. Your laugh, your energy, your spirit and kind heart had all enraptured the heart of the notorious playboy. And you couldn’t fool yourself either..you’d become smitten with him just the same…however, you were guarded. You weren’t so far deluded in the fantasy of being with him that you’d soon forgotten his reputation! You weren’t perfect by a long shot either..God knows, you’d partaken in your fair share of hookups and dated a couple of athletes just to say you did. Even so, you felt a hint of insecurity. How could you ever satisfy his cravings when he’d sampled the whole platter?! That was a question you’d soon find the answer to when you decided to spend a weekend at his home. A lofty, luxurious penthouse that overlooked the city and beaches of the sunny Miami, Florida.

it was a beautiful place and one of the many pieces of real estate owned by the Artlert conglomerate. One thing you’d come to learn about Armin was that music was nothing more than a beloved hobby. As much as he poured into his craft, his financial situation wouldn’t waver in the slightest if he were to stop today. He’d grown up with billionaires for family and that generational wealth had certainly trickled down. Regardless, it wasn’t his sole identity, hence why it’d never arise in conversation. It was blatantly obvious in his lifestyle choices but he was still that innocent, nerdy, wide eyed boy he’d always been to his core. The sensitive, kind, gentle Armin that only a select few witnessed. That was the side he wanted you to see here tonight..

so as you traipsed across the marble accented floors and art littered walls of his penthouse..all the way to his bedroom, you’d realize that you were where you belonged.

“You coming to lie down, beautiful? You’ve been in there forever.”

“Just a few more minutes, I promise! I wanna make sure I’m looking right.”

honestly, he didn’t understand all of the trouble. He’d seen you fully nude and completely clothed..you were beautiful no matter the form. Hell, you could come out in a plastic bag and pair of Timberlands and he’d still be hungry for you! He loved you dearly and nothing could dare to change that fact now! But after you two had retreated to his bedroom after an evening out on the town and he’d longed since undressed, you insisted on going to the bathroom and freshening up with a shower before retreating to bed. However, there was one more

“Well hurry up, please. I miss you..” stating in a whiny tone as he flailed himself against the mattress. Arms stretched out atop the pillow as his shirtless top half grazed the sheets. His designer boxers rubbed viciously with the silk bed linen, causing a bit of friction. Outside of the glass window pane, fell heavy droplets of pouring rain to set the already sensual mood. Electronic candles flickered in the corner and soft melodies of R&B played from the mounted television. It was certainly a vibe that you could become accustomed to. Across from where he lay, sat a half empty bottle of Modavi and two glasses that had been previously filled with the liquid. You were both feeling a bit tipsy from the substances coursing your veins so it was apparent what the mood was for the evening. He couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer and fortunately for him, you didn’t keep him held up. Because it was as he was getting ready to lie back down, he’d hear the faint tapping of footsteps against the tile and be greeted with a sight that would soothe his soul and sore eyes alike…

“Well I’m sorry to keep you waiting ..” flashing him a cheeky smile in regards to his earlier comment. Instantly, his jaw fell slack and his top half arose from the bed to examine you over.

“Oh my—you look—…. damn, I can’t even talk. You got me speechless, girl.”

sending you into a fit of giggles as you showed off your ensemble for him. A sheer white, lace two piece with garters that wrapped your thick thighs, a thong that was swallowed up by those round cheeks and a bra that accentuated your voluptuous breasts..causing them to sit upright. You were glistening with oil, and that luscious brown skin shimmered in the candlelight. Those forty inches of black curls were styled into an updo atop your head, along with that diamond necklace he had procured for you a few weeks ago. Even this was a first for Armin..he’d spent his fair share of evenings with the ladies but it always involved moments of rushed disrobing and him trying to get in their pants as quickly as possible. He didn’t waste time with lingerie or fancy frills because the goal was to grant her the best sex possible. Of course, he obtained gratification from this as well..but sometimes, he craved more. More than just the act of sex itself…it was intimacy he desired. The subtle touches and little gestures that helped to curate that special moment..he wanted to take his time and give you an experience that you’d soon yet forget.

“..then I guess it was worth the trouble..” his reaction elicited a light chuckle as you veered over to the bed, crawling onto the mattress and into the embrace of your precious lover. It was warm, inviting almost…strangely enough, an unwavering sense of safety crept over you as well. All of those previous thoughts of insecurity and jealousy seemed to dissipate once his hands coiled your body. He’d pull you in a little closer, squeeze you a little tighter and when his lips finally clashed with your own, every worry that had plagued either of your worlds were mere afterthoughts.

“God, you’re so beautiful..I swear you wear the hell out of everything you put on..”

“You’re too charming for your own good, you know that? It’s gon’ get you in trouble one day.”

“I like the sound of that.”

the tender and humorous moment was shared underneath the flickering candlelight as your flesh melded into one. Sitting upright in a cross legged position, your calves coiled his lower back and your arms cradled the back of his neck. Meanwhile, his hands resided around your waist and maintained a firm grip. He could hear your sentiment but even he grew skeptical at times. He often worried would his past elude him and ruin any potential future he could procure with you. All of his other prospects were nothing more than fleeting memories now. Even for someone as confident and skilled as Armin was, he experienced any other emotion just the same..maybe even more. Regardless, you’d continue to quell his anxiety and ease any doubt in his mind that you were leaving anytime soon. With those soft touches and gentle kisses, slowly but surely, you’d melt away all that rattled his mind. Eventually, your tongues would find home within one another’s mouths, initiating a series of sloppy pecks in process. It was then that you’d also begin to feel the thin straps of that top gliding down your shoulder blade. He just wanted to make you feel the best you had in a long time and he’d take as long as he needed to fulfill that obligation. He owed it to you for all of the insurmountable love you’d given him.

“Armin…baby..”

a faint whisper escaped your now freed lips as he latched onto your neck following the broken kiss. He’d gently suckle on that deep colored flesh and leave a trail of pecks along your jugular vein, even along your earlobe…it was there that he’d merely nip at the skin and whisper into it. Which sent a barrage of tingles all over your body.

“Yes, sweetheart? Something on your mind?”

“Ahh—“ “..words, baby. Let me hear that shit.”

that lilt in his tone, a clear indicator that he was going to relentlessly tease you from here on out. You always became so anxious when he did but the buildup made the actual moments all the more worth it. “You can tell me anything you want, pretty girl. This is all for you..your space. Whatever you say…I’ll do it.” His words serve to entice you further, which took little to no effort at all. You were already sucked in with no chance of being free of his clutches anytime soon. As for your requests, it was easy.

“Just…make me feel good, please..make love to me..”

it was a definite statement; one he understood loud and clear. Now wasn’t the time to be prideful or allow his ego to cloud his perception. Rather than showing off, Armin wanted to fully submit himself to you and to the cause of giving you whatever your heart…and body desired. With that, you’d find yourself shrouded in another round of kisses, this time along your shoulder blades and eventually to those soft breasts. Gently kneading them between his fingertips, he’d circle the buds with his thumb and watch as they’d grow erect. “Mmmm..” “..that feels good, sweetheart?” Following his question with a whimpering nod as you examined his movements. He’d gently squeeze them together and massage them all over, just to make you feel more at ease. He always did love how supple and perky they were..how they sat so perfectly in your tops or dresses. He’d learned to view the female body as more than just a vessel of pleasure but instead, for the work of art it is. You were his divine masterpiece..his treasure and he wanted to appreciate every single square inch of your physique. Even the areas you didn’t exactly appreciate yourself…

“Good..I know how sensitive they are but that’s okay. I’ll be gentle.” Chuckling at your very visible reactions of having your nipples played with. It was your most erogenous area and he knew it’d only be a matter of time before you became even more aroused. That much was indicated by the way you ground your clothed slit into the mattress. (Y/N) eventually tossed your head back, rolling it onto your shoulders and emitting a sharp gasp. An expected reaction to all of the sensual friction and stimulation. None of which was lost on Armin. He’d shift a bit in his own positioning, attempting to conceal that obvious erect. This was a fine solely for your pleasure and needs. His urges could wait as far as he was concerned. He was determined to prove that he was fully and utterly devoted to you right now. The sounds of melodic love songs and pouring rain would continue to serve as the soundtrack to this precious moment. Right along with your sweet moans and his subtle grunts. You’d glance down to see the rising tent within his boxers as he began to lap all over your areolae and suckle on your brown buds. “Your tits are so perfect, angel. I love them so much..I love all of you. Every single part..” Constantly doting as he persisted..that’s when you’d reach down and grasp for that sheathed cock but he’d be equally as quick to stop you.

“Ignore it, okay? Right now is about you. I’m focused on making you feel good, just like I promised. You don’t need to do a thing.” This was what you appreciate about your man. He had such a calm, gentle demeanor. Something people would often mistake as sensitive or meek. But in the same vein, he could harness that into a dominant, masculine energy that required no assertiveness. You felt safe..secure within that space. You felt comfortable submitting yourself fully to him.

“It’s like you're everything I’ve ever prayed for..I’m so lucky.” Akin to that of a groom bedding his bride on the night of their wedding, Armin would lie his precious girl flat against the mattress and begin his descent down your body. Examining each line, touching each bump and worshiping every curve as if they were a gift from the heavens above. They certainly weren’t things that he took for granted. Especially when he finally made home with that divine center…spreading open your trembling thighs; courtesy of the gentle kisses and drawn out licksthat had been peppered all over your belly. “Mmmm…I love when you touch me like this. You always know what to do..” placing his thumbs along your pantyline, he’d rub your hips before placing two fingertips along the seat of your bottoms. “Of course, I told you…I’ll do whatever you want. All you gotta do is say it.” Naturally, the entire area was soaked and only accruing more stickiness the more he stroked your clothed bud. In an attempt to increase the friction and pleasure riddling your body, Armin would hone in on the clit and massage it until he felt you shaking in his grasp.

“Oh my God..” “Rub your nipples for me, sweetheart. I wanna see you get there so bad but I don’t want to rush..not right now.” Finally, he’d cease his teasing and peel back that thin layer of fabric, revealing your plump mound and lips, along with that swollen clit. You were practically throbbing and the second he grazed your skin, you’d instinctively contract. Those juices were already leaking before he could even think to touch or lap at the area. Meanwhile, you’d pinch and pull at the now stiffened buds on your chest, writhing in the sheets as you chewed at your lip. “You’re so cute when you make that face.” Chuckling whilst teasing the hard little pearl that had caused your entire body to heat up. “Aw, you just want that nut, don’t you, baby?” “Fuck—uh, yes..please.” Immediately shuttering at the idea of ruining such a sensual moment with profanity. However, Armin didn’t mind at all. In fact, it further encouraged him to get you there. “I know you do…I wanna give it to you so bad too..”

Normally, this was an opportunity he’d utilize to tease you relentlessly. Holding out on providing you with your orgasm, making you wait before he even made the slightest of movements…all of it in an attempt to get you riled up. Right there on the edge until you finally broke, all but pleading with him to give you what you wanted. But tonight?

“Ahh!—haaaa..yes..” “Uh, fuck…lemme taste you…please lemme eat this puss—“ his words trailing off into mere whiny drabble as his lips made home on your lower ones. Immediately, those pretty blue eyes of his were fixated on you as he delved into your center. The sounds of slurping and whimpering emitting from his mouth and only growing louder. With your legs parted on each side, (y/n) grasped the top of Armin’s head; clawing at those shaggy blonde curls whilst grinding yourself against his face. “Arminnnn…oh my gosh…right there.” Those moans would draw out into a high pitched wail. One that caused your legs to tremble and nearly retract around his head. But alas, that just wasn’t possible. With one fell swoop and only a single hand, he’d pin your thighs back and continue devouring your cunt. As his opposite one was preoccupied with stroking his own shaft. It was something about your scent, flavor and your sex that got him all aroused. Nonetheless, Armin would resume his feast..flicking gently on your clit, sucking your plump lips and even shoving a digit into your tight hole. Only coming up for air to check in on you..

“Something on your mind, pretty girl? Talk to me..”

“N—need you…need you in me so bad…oh fuck..”

although the sentence was a bit incoherent, your desires were heard loud and clear. Although Armin loved the idea of relentlessly teasing you, he also wasn’t much in the way of restricting you from your happiness either. If that was what you wanted, he was elated to fulfill the request. In what seemed to almost be a slight of hand movement, he’d maneuver and rise from where he was laying and would scoop your legs up in the process. He’d position them straight in the air and pin them together. Eventually placing them over his shoulder. “You need me? You want it that bad, sweetheart?” Cooing and questioning with a rhetorical tone. Meanwhile, he was hovering above you, positioned on his knees whilst that cock head teased against your slit. He already knew the answer and as far as he was concerned, it was yours. But he needed to hear you say it. Not just for the consensual aspect, but because it was what he’d been waiting for all along. Hearing you beg, plead and whimper for him….this entire time, he’d been so used to your independent nature, that there was rarely an instance where you relied on him. You were so far capable of handling your own, that he or no other man were truly necessary in your daily way of life. But right here…in this moment, in this bedroom and this space the two of you had curated together..

“Y-yes, please!..I need you. I can’t take it..”

he was your everything. Your one and only sole object of affection. With your gazes fixated on one another, you’d nod your head and coo to one another, whimpering until suddenly—

“Yeah?” “Mmmm…please!”

you’d feel that stiffened, aching cock glide between your warm, silky folds and remained nestled there whilst he gathered his footing. Normally, he’d take an opportunity to perhaps gloat or be cocky. Fucking you with a giant grin on his face, making your pleasure a second priority. But alas, he’d never be so arrogant or foolish right now..because only moments later, his head had rolled back on his shoulders and as he remained nestled within you, he’d release a heavy gasp. He couldn’t maintain his eye contact when you felt this good. Your pussy resembled that of a warm blanket or hug..inviting him in and never wanting to pull away. However, he’d refrain from such lewd obscenities and fill your head with more loving compliments instead. As you’d lie there, awaiting his next move, you’d feel a hand planted into the center of your tummy and his hips beginning to buck forward..gently pounding into you.

“Oh God…yes..I love the way you feel, baby. You’re so warm.. ‘s so good..”

meanwhile, all he could do was howl it to the air because he knew that if he even took so much as even a glance in your direction, his load would be buried three inches into your womb right now. He was adamant of taking his time because all of his undivided and full attention; along with every second he could spare…belonged to you. He was all yours, hopelessly to a fault. He had released fear..anxiety or the shame that came with being madly in love.

“Ahhh…Armin..right there..please don’t stop..”

“I know, baby. I know…I can feel you squeezing me, that’s your spot, isn’t it?”

it was a given..not only had your body become riddled with ecstasy but he could tell by the way you pawed at his abs that he’d reached that core. Smacking sounds had arisen from the creamy mess he’d made of your lower half. Sucking his teeth, Armin finally garnered the strength to peer down at you and once he did, he nearly lost all control and restraint. His strokes would become a little faster and stretch your tight little cunt in the process. Your legs, that once made home on his shoulders, were now pinned back nearly behind your head. A position he was certain you had no issue maintaining. Even so, it didn’t stop your from crying out to him..heaving and whimpering. He was worried that perhaps, he hadn’t regulated his own strength. But rather than an expression of pain, you were smiling!..grinning from ear to ear with tears rolling down your face. It was a sign that you were in complete climatic bliss.

“Y-yes..you're in my spot, baby. And it feels so fucking good…nobody can make me feel like this..” eventually reaching down to stroke your sensitive bud to aid in the pleasure. That gave him all the confirmation he needed to persist, even when he felt he’d reach his breaking point sooner rather than later. Breaking into a smile of his own, Armin would resume his deep thrusts, this time with a bit more speed and rhythm. His hips would roll fluidly as he pushed in and out; dragging more of your juices and secretions along with him. He felt as if he could conquer the world when you said things like that. “That’s right, sweetheart..I know it’s a lot but I know you’re the only one who can handle it..who can take this dick like it’s nothing.”

those words cause you to twitch and grip him even tighter. In that moment, he nearly faltered but it was also in that instance that the two of you established full blown eye contact and mere seconds later, your lips had met in a passionate crash. Only after you exchanged doting words.

“..I love you. I love you so much, (y/n)..”

“I love you too, baby! Oh my gosh, please don’t stop.”

the bed had begun to jolt against the wall whilst his tattooed knuckles gripped the headboard. Eventually, he’d collapse fully into your grasp, relinquishing this idea of full control and allowing himself to be a part of the moment. No need to establish dominance or submission..who was the better lover or even what past partners had done. But instead, embracing each other and becoming one. One body, one soul and one heart. You’d wrap your arms and legs around his frame as he continued feeding you those strokes..his face buried into the crook of your neck and your hands clawing his inked up back.. You’d coo into his ear, listening to his whimpers and inform him that it was okay for him to let go. That he didn’t have to hold back so that he could appear as this strong guy with tons of stamina. You took it as a compliment that he could go for that long, honestly..it was a far cry from his past hookups, that was for certain!..but so much more was at stake here than merely who reached their orgasm first. It was about sharing in ecstasy and concealing your love with a special moment.

“You wanna come, angel? You can if you’re ready, no need to hold back..”

“Come with me, please..same time, okay?”

declaring so confidently as you heaved into one another’s ears. He’d agree and mere seconds later, that speed and pace had reached maximum heights and it felt as if he were hammering into you. “F-fuck!..” “Shit!..I’m coming, sweetheart!..coming for y—“ it was in that exact moment, that it felt as if the world was shattering for the both of you. That something inside of your bodies had essentially broken and neither of you could hold back. Both of your eyes shoot wide open before they shut and you’d embrace each other for comfort. Your juices had splattered all over his cock and his warm seed had completely coated the inside of your womb.. neither of you could even function at this point. Just reduced to mindless babble and tears. He’d finally rise from your neck and greet you with disheveled hair, a beet red face and a toothy grin. Along with those fallen tears.

“C’mere..I need a kiss..”

“Of course..”

your soft features and brown eyes met his and the two of you collided with one last declaration of adornment. Lips and tongues meeting in a fit of desperation. Desperation to never be apart again. For as long as you were both of this world, you’d spend every waking moment wanting to be together. And there wasn’t a single thing that could break that.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me..I just want us to be like this forever. I love you..” and you’d cling to every single word. Knowing that they rang true, now more than ever. Stroking his head as he lies on your chest. There were times that Armin figured that he’d never find his one and only..that he was destined to be a bachelor until he left this earth and he was adamant that one woman couldn’t possibly supplement for having his fill of multiple.

“And we can stay just like this…I’m not going anywhere.”

but it was nights like this..that reminded him that he was exactly where he needed to be!

430 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 7 months ago

Text

Safe Harbor (Alessia X Singer!R)

Summary: R is a very famous singer at the end of a very long, very crazy tour. Alessia is there to take care of her.

Warmings: Established D/s dynamics. The use of Daddy, and Collars. No smut.

You knew that you were living a dream.

You knew that millions of people would trade everything to be in the position you were in.

They would do anything to have stadiums scream their name and for their songs to play on the radio for the world to hear.

You had been plucked out of obscurity after you unsuspectingly played a bar in Leeds in front of Ed Sheeran when you were 16. A year and a half later you had taken Billboard's Hot 100 by storm, broken the record for most weeks at number one by a new artist… twice, and you were opening for Taylor Swift’s 1989 tour.

That had just been the beginning.

Now you were on your 3rd world tour, selling out stadiums for yourself, with one of the best-selling albums of all time.

It was… crazy that a kid from Maidstone who barely had enough to eat growing up had thousands of people screaming your name every night, singing your lyrics back to you like they were anthems.

Your music was raw, personal. Painfully autobiographical.

Your fans picked apart every lyric, dissecting your words with obsessive precision. The heartbreak, the loss, the fear woven into every track—they clung to it like it was their story, too. Before You Go, Say Something, Thinking Out Loud—each song became a window into your soul. And they were desperate to see more.

It was why your first album had gone platinum overnight, and every album after it had debuted at number 1.

They resonated with your honesty, and that’s what made people fall in love with it.

You had expected that part.

What you hadn’t expected was that they hadn’t just fallen in love with the music—they had fallen in love with you.

The girl with the sunny personality, and the commanding stage presence. The girl who smiled brightly at every meet-and-greet, made them laugh at every interview, and always took time to meet fans, even after long days in the studio or on music video sets. They built you up as their idol, their friend, their fantasy. They flirted with you in meet-and-greets before you were 18 and treated you like you belonged to them. Like they were entitled to every part of you.

At some point, you became an enigma—Y/N Y/L/N, the nine-time Grammy winner. The infallible pop star. The face that was painted on the side of billboards, and smiling in Colgate commercials.

At some point, just Y/n failed to exist to them, and you liked it that way.

You did well to dodge their invasive questions, running interviewers around in circles, and answering fans with witty remarks to avoid answering. And over the years (and through 4 albums), you only got better at preventing the fans from learning anything of substance about your private life. The only glimpses they got were through your music, and you liked to keep it that way.

You did your best to keep it that way.

The only time you let them get close, let the world peek behind the curtain, was during the piano set of your concerts.

It was dubbed the surprise song set by the fans even though 2 of 3 songs never changed. It was where you sang your most emotional songs, and where you let yourself be vulnerable. Open. Real.

Tonight was no different. Or at least, you were trying to convince yourself of that.

You sucked in a long breath, your fingers tracing the black and white keys as the final chords of Bruises echoed through the stadium, curling off the walls and over the crowd. Their energy buzzed around you, rolling like an ocean wave.

You could feel it crashing against your chest, adding to the adrenaline bubbling through your veins.

You took another deep breath, the air catching in your throat as you tried to control your breathing enough so you could talk. So you could give your signature speech before revealing the night's surprise song.

Maybe tonight was different.

You felt more… exposed.

More… vulnerable.

This year was nothing short of a whirlwind. Eighty sold-out shows across the U.S. in the summer, followed by another thirty in Europe and the UK. Three back-to-back number-one singles—no small feat—only knocked from the top spot after 18 weeks by Taylor Swift herself.

It was amazing and incredible and exhausting all rolled together.

You dearly loved your fans, their passion, and their devotion, but you were drained.

Your eyes slid closed, allowing the bone-deep weariness to cut through the buzz from the crowd for just a second as you pulled your fingers from the keys, briefly rubbing the leather braided bracelet around your wrist as you reset for the next song.

It was the closest thing you’d had to your girlfriend's touch in nearly 2 months, and it wasn’t nearly enough. One soft touch from her would make it all melt away.

One touch and she would take away the burden of control that had plagued you since you started the tour.

You would finally be able to let go and just be.

There were only 6 songs left and then you would be with her, your lighthouse on rocky seas. Your anchor on stormy nights.

You took another deep breath.

It was the last show of an incredible year, and you had something very very special planned.

Something no one would see coming.

Your eyes blinked open as the crowd noise dipped, and you painted your signature smirk on your face as you leaned back toward the mic.

“So Wembley, how are we feeling?” You asked into the microphone, smiling widely at the roar from the audience that met you. “Fantastic,”

You brought your fingers to the piano, letting them dance delicately across the keys. They had no particular rhythm, though they were in the key that your surprise song would be in.

You wanted to avoid giving the surprise away yet.

“So you know, I was thinking about what song I was going to play tonight, trying to figure out which one would be the perfect end to such an amazing tour,” You couldn’t help the little laugh that left you as the audience got impossibly louder, cheering out an indistinguishable mix of song titles that you had yet to play on this tour. You paused for a long second, feeling their cheers only grow, popping your in-ear monitor out for effect.

It was endearing really, how into it they got (especially when you found out that they had created an entire fantasy league about what version of your outfits you would wear and what songs you would sing). They made it easy to pretend like you were having the time of your life instead of fantasizing about what you would be doing in 40 minutes.

You shook your head, popping the monitor back into your ear and your fingers returning to the keys, letting their chants fill you up, and drive you forward.

“And I was talking to one of my favorite people,” You continued, starting to pick out a tune that was a bit closer to the song you were going to play. “Now you all know I don’t normally take requests, but this being the final night of the Eclipse World Tour, and with such special guests in the audience I couldn’t quite say no,”

Your eyes instinctually found Alessia as you hit the opening chord, and though you could see her expression you could feel her gaze burning into you.

Seeing through you.

Even surrounded by people, her attention was the only one you craved.

“It’s a song I haven’t played for a long time, so I’m going to need your help.” You continued, Never breaking eye contact with her. “Will you help me tonight Wembley?”

The crowd roared in approval, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the sheer energy they projected at you. It filled your chest and fueled your fingers as you finally hit the signature piano riff that opened the song.

You flashed the crowd your signature smirk, all essence of yourself slipping beneath your on-stage persona.

And when you opened your mouth to sing the first line; it felt easy. It felt right.

Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands

Closed your eyes and trusted

Just trusted

*****

Watching you perform was magic.

It had always been magic.

Whether it was a show in Wembley in front of 100,000 people, or one when you were small with a guitar the same size as you, Alessia had always been mesmerized by you. Even before the two of you were old enough to put names to what you were feeling.

It didn’t matter that she had seen you play thousands (hundreds of thousands) of times, nor that this was not her first time attending one of the shows on this tour.

She leaned forward on the barricade separating the VIP tent from the Floor sections as you began to play the piano break.

“She’s incredible,” Leah said, leaning closer to Alessia to be heard above the crowd. “They’re eating out of the palm of her hand,”

Alessia hummed. “She is,”

The audience was glued to every move, every breath you took on stage. She was too, and so were all of her teammates.

What made it even better was that you were hers, and she got to enjoy you from her favorite seat in the house.

They hadn’t originally been slated to be in the VIP tent.

Viv had organized the tickets, picking an area on the 2nd balcony because they were the only ones left. Alessia had gone along with it, only mentioning to you that 800$ was crazy for a 2nd tier balcony ticket in passing.

You had sleepily agreed, cursing Ticketmaster and reminding Alessia of the 10-hour meetings you had endured when your fans crashed the site during pre-sale. You hadn’t said anything about it since, so she assumed you had forgotten.

You did not forget.

There had been a team waiting to escort them when they arrived, and you had made sure the tent was loaded with all of their favorites. You had also refunded the tickets, and given them away to 23 fans outside of the stadium.

You liked to do things for her. It was a way for you to serve her even from a distance, and she enjoyed telling you how good you were afterward.

She definitely had plans to do that tonight.

She leaned forward on the barrier as you got to the final chorus.

There was a reason this spot was always her favorite to watch the show from, and why she had been hesitant when they escorted her and her friends to the tent.

They were close to the stage. Close enough that Alessia could see the cracks in your carefully crafted facade.

She could see the dark circles under your eyes, and how your smile never met your eyes. She could see the slight curl of your shoulders, and how you kept twisting your bracelet tightly around your wrist.

She could see the command you had of the crowd wearing on you, and just how in your head you were.

All of her instincts told her to protect you. To wrap you up, and take the reigns so you could just exist without thinking. So you could submit and know that she would take care of you.

And sure, her teammates had caught glimpses of the dynamic between the two of you, but you both liked to keep the heavier aspects to yourselves.

It was harder for her to do that when she had watched the toll this tour had taken on you, and knew just how close you were to being able to let go.

“Is it just me or does she look shattered,” Katie asked as the song came to an end, the final note ringing around the stadium as your eyes once again closed and you sucked in air through your nose.

Alessia didn’t take her eyes away from you. “Not just you,”

She followed the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and how your fingers silently fluttered over the keys before you began to play again.

“She’s barely slept at all this week because of end-of-tour meetings,” Alessia continued as you began picking out a new tune. “And she’s been co-producing an album that comes out next month, so she’s barely had time to think, much less do anything else.”

Leah hummed from her other side. “I’m just surprised you haven’t stepped in yet.”

Alessia made a low sound in the back of her throat.

It was… complicated.

While Alessia had rules that you followed (even while you were on tour) to help protect both your physical and mental health, you both had boundaries when it came to your careers.

She understood that you had responsibilities and that sometimes you had to prioritize work to make everything run smoothly. (She also secretly relished watching you in boss mode, knowing that you would be kneeling at her feet later.)

The agreement you had was that she would only interfere under 2 conditions. First, if you crossed the Limits the two of you had agreed upon years ago without communicating with Alessia first. Second, if you asked.

“Tonight I will,” Alessia said as your eyes opened and you leaned back towards the microphone, your fingers dancing along the keys.

“Since we have the incredible women of Arsenal in the audience tonight, I think there’s one more song we have to do before continuing the show,”

The audience roared in response.

Your smile was charming, even as your eyes danced vacantly across the screaming fans in the pit next to the small stage that held your piano.

Alessia could imagine the edits that would be online later, the people swearing that your expression was solely meant for them. They would think the way you twisted your bracelet was to show them how much you liked the copies they wore.

She shook her head.

The chords under your fingers changed, shifting into another familiar tune.

North London Forever

Whatever the Weather

You pulled back from the microphone, tilting your head to the sky as the fans picked up the song all around you.

The stage lights swelled around you, illuminating the crowd as they sang for you. Your fingers deftly played the background music for the song.

She could understand why it was a tradition for you. Why you always added North London Forever to the last show of your tours, especially when you ended in London.

And my heart will leave you never

My blood will forever

Goosebumps erupted on her skin as the crowd of 100,000 sang the rest of the chorus, and pride swelled in her chest, replacing her worry for just a moment.

You wouldn’t have done a sing along if you were too far gone.

Your relationship was built on trust, and Alessia trusted that you were ok for now. She would step in when the show was over, and you were ready.

****

“Thank you London,”

The final notes of Shut Up and Dance pounded through the stadium.

You held your arms out wide, as if to physically soak in their cheers as the stage lights dimmed, leaving only one shining against your back, silhouetting you for the audience In a perfect replica of your album cover. Then everything went dark, and the platform you had been standing on lowered so you were under the stage.

“Great show Y/n,” Your tour manager, Aubrey, said as you stepped off the lift, the crowd noise barely fading.

You nodded in response, your tongue suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth to form words. it felt like you were trying to think through an old television with terrible reception, the images staticy and broken. Fatigue settled into your bones, heavy and cold.

A soft robe was draped over your shoulders by one of the production crew, and you twisted the bracelet around your wrist until the edges cut into your skin.

You focused on the pain, letting it ground you as you put one foot in front of the other and allowed your team to guide you from beneath the stage.

your security team flanked you the second you were out from under the stage, acting like a protective wall.

“You need to rehydrate.” Steve, your head of security said, pressing a blue Gatorade into your fingers.

They instinctively closed around the bottle, and Steve nudged you again to get you to bring it to your lips.

“Small sips kid,” Clint added from your other side, as the third member of your security team, Natasha, made eye contact with Steve

You tried to follow their directions, but your hands were shaking so badly you almost dropped the drink.

You felt Powerful.

You felt… floaty.

It was so… weird. It usually took you hours to come down from the high of a show, and devolve into… whatever this was.

To finally give in and call your girlfriend for help.

You had been… reluctant to bother her in the last few weeks.

She had been busy with international friendlies, and you didn’t exactly like exploring your dynamic while you were separated.

Dropping into sub space was hard for you on a good day, guided by Alessia‘s firm but comforting presence. Doing it while the two of you were doing long distance was a painful impossibility.

The few times it had actually worked were misery for you. Like your brain was made of broken glass and no one was there to help you knit the fractured shards back together.

Even with her voice on the other end of a video call, it had been brutal.

You had put it off, and put it off, and now it seemed that your body wasn’t going to give you a choice.

“I’ll be back.” Natasha said, turning on her heel as Steve shifted to shield you from the people buzzing around backstage.

You didn’t even acknowledge her, blinking slowly as cling helped you bring the bottle of Gatorade to your lips.

“Take deep breaths.” Clint said gently. “We have to get to the tunnel.”

You tried, but it was like you were under water, or sucking air through a straw.

You were crashing, and you still had to face the public one last time before you could let go.

You swallowed hard, forcing the fog in your brain away and your signature smirk on your face.

It would satisfy the people waiting for you to make your way out from behind the stage and into the safety of the stadium halls, away from prying eyes.

“Let’s go.” You muttered, pushing the Gatorade back towards Steve.

It took all of your strength just to utter the word, and you knew it would take every bit of mental fortitude you had to wave at the fans as you passed.

But it was required.

It was the least you could do for the people who bought obstructed view seats. A thing you had done for every one of your other shows. A thing fans would absolutely notice if you didn’t do it.

It didn’t matter how much you didn’t want to.

“Let’s do it.” Clint agreed, positioning his hand on the small of your back, while Steve did the same on your other side.

You straightened and squared your shoulders.

You could do this one last act for your fans. Then you could let go.

*******

“That show is incredible,” Beth said, leaning against the VIP barricade. “I don’t know how she runs around like that for 3 and a half hours,”

“A lot of cardio,” Leah shrugged. “She released a whole behind the scenes video of how she trained for the tour.”

“That video felt staged though.” Viv said. “She was very different then she usually is with us, or you Less,”

The English striker hummed. “She likes to keep separation between her professional life and her private life.”

“Makes sense.” Katie agreed. “Did you see how many people had braided bracelets in all different colors?”

“I did.” Alessia nodded, her eyes trailing across the area near the stage, looking for your personal assistant. “But they have no clue what hers actually means. You all know her, but the fans just know the idea of her. It’s easier to keep it all separated.”

It was strange that she hadn’t seen your assistant yet. That she hadn’t come to retrieve her and the team.

Chloe was usually waiting at the VIP tent to take her backstage before the last fireworks of the show had even finished.

It had alarm bells swirling in her brain.

“It’s kind of amazing how confident she is on stage.” Beth agreed. “It’s like she’s 2 different people.”

“Sometimes she is.” Alessia trailed off spotting a different redhead coming around the stage. Your security instead of your assistant.

It was hard to wrap her head around the dichotomy between your loud, confident persona on stage and the quiet girl she knew you were, and as your career grew, that difference had only gotten larger.

Her eyebrows furrowed as Natasha approached them, nodding towards her friends before meeting her eyes. “I need to borrow you, please,”

Katie whistled. “Get it Lessie,”

“Gotta get that post concert energy out,” Kyra snickered, and the tear erupted into laughter behind her.

She shot a glare towards her cackling team. “Of course,”

Natasha was a part of your personal security. She didn’t need words to convey that you needed Alessia, and you needed her now.

“Alone please,” Natasha said, her eyes flickering towards the girls who tried to exit the tent with Alessia.

The laughter stopped around them, and Alessia nodded once, turning back towards the team.

“We’ll catch up with you lot tomorrow?” Alessia said, authority that the team rarely heard leaking into her tone. “We can do lunch, or maybe Dinner.”

Leah stepped forward and nodded, knowing this was not the time to argue with her. “Tell y/n thank you for the tickets and that we send our love,”

“Go take care of your superstar,” Beth nodded towards Natasha.

“I will,” Alessia nodded, stepping out of the tent.

She meant it.

You had taken care of yourself for most of the tour. It was her turn now.

******

You didn’t remember how you got to your dressing room. You didn’t remember waving to the fans, smiling widely and sending them hand hearts.

one second you were backstage, and then you blinked and Steve was gently closing the dressing room door behind you.

You paced the room, pushing the dark robe off of your shoulders. You didn't know what to do with yourself.

It was too warm and too cold. The dress shirt you wore on stage was too soft and too scratchy. Your mind was racing too fast and moving too slow all at once.

your breathing hitched, and you brought your trembling fingers of one and to your lips to prevent the sobs threatening to bubble out. The other tugged useless at your collar, trying to get air. This was not normal. It was rare you dropped, let alone this hard or this deep.

It was like quicksand, sucking you into the chaotic spiral deeper, faster, with more force the more you tried to fight it. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, and your brain was going to rip itself apart trying to untangle them.

You were in free fall, plummeting faster than you ever had before with no net to catch you. You had put it off for too long, and now you had no choice.

You knew you needed to do something, but making the decision of what you should do felt impossible.

You were done making decisions for the foreseeable future.

The sound of the door clicking open and shut again was nearly drowned out by the buzzing in your ears, but you Instinctively turned towards the presence that entered.

The air shifted around her as she stood in front of you like a mirage, immediately capturing all of your attention. For just a split second, your racing thoughts went quiet, and you were wholly consumed by her presence. It crackled like a warm fire on a cold day, or like a lightning storm over the sea. You couldn't decide.

You didn’t want to decide.

And you knew you didn’t need to.

Alessia- No, your Daddy was here and she would take care of everything.

Her gaze swept over you, taking in every twitch of your fingers against the buttons of your shirt, and the tremble that snaked its way across your shoulders and down your spine. You felt naked, despite the clothing scratching at your skin.

She crossed the room in 3 long strides, her hands catching your wrist before you even registered that she had moved.

”That’s enough, little one.” She said, keeping her voice gentle despite the command clear in it. “You’ve done so well, and I’m so proud of you, but I’m here now.”

She carefully unwound your fingers from here they were tearing at your shirt, placing them on her hips before deftly undoing the buttons. “I’ve got you. Just take deep breaths for me, love,”

You tried, but it felt like it was stuck in your throat, trapped by the inhuman sound now bubbling past your lips.

She carefully slid the thin material of your shirt from your shoulders, and you met her eyes.

The sob you’d been holding in finally broke free, your knees weakening as the weight of it all hit you. But before you could completely crumble, Alessia’s arms were around you, pulling you into her chest. Her scent, her warmth, everything about her surrounded you like a safety net.

Her fingers tangled in your hair, and she rested her cheek on the top of your head. “You’ve done so well, you can relax now. I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere,”

Her other hand ran soothing circles on your back, easing the prickles on your skin like the world's best Aloe. “Just breathe, love.”

Her comforting touch seeped past your skin, settling deep into your bones. It eased the knotted panic in your chest, and dulled the sharp, frantic edges of anxiety that raced through you.

“That’s it little one,” She cooed, her grip on your firm and unyielding. It was tether to reality. An anchor in the crashing storm that was your mind. A lifeline when you were being pulled beneath the tide.

“You’re safe. You’re here with me, and I will always keep you safe. Just relax,”

Her voice was as steady as her grip on you. Commanding in a way that couldn’t be ignored, but soft enough that it didn’t bristle your sensitive instincts. It was a mixture that only Alessia seemed to be able to achieve. A tone she could modulate to perfectly match the situation.

You melted into her chest, nodding weakly as your tears slowed. Your entire body shuttered with each inhale, and hitched with each breath you blew out.

You were moving past the uncomfortable phase of the drop where your brain felt like a shattered glass mirror, fractured and sharp, and into the lapping warmth that only Alessia seemed to be able to bring you.

Alessia’s hands continued their slow, comforting path up and down your back, her breath even and calm, giving you a rhythm to sync your own to.

“That’s it, little one,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’ve done so well. Just let it all go.”

You whimpered.

It felt too raw, too exposed. But Alessia knew—she always knew.

Her fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes were soft, but her tone left no room for argument.

“Look at me.” She said, using a finger to gently tilt your chin up. “You’ve done so well being in charge. You’ve run this entire tour, and made so many people happy. I’m so proud of you, but you can let go now. Let me be in charge for a little while,” She capped the statement with a gentle peck to your lips.

You tried to lean in to continue the kiss, but she pulled away.

“Later,” She promised, and you nodded once, sinking back into her chest.

You understood that she didn’t like to start anything while you were like this unless it was well discussed beforehand. While there was any chance that you couldn’t consent, or feel like you could remove consent.

You weren’t sure how long she stood there and held you, rocking gently from side to side and scratching your scalp. Long enough for the storm in your chest to mellow and for your brain to slowly begin knitting itself back together, grounded in the gentle pressure of your girlfriend. Your daddy.

“Let’s get cleaned up and then we can go home,” She said, when you pulled back enough to look at her. “Do you want your collar?”

you nodded against her chest, kissing gently under her chin.

“I need a verbal response, little one,” She said, dominance leaking into her tone to help you wade through the thick fog coating the crevices of your brain.

It took you a long second to think of the words, and another to push the fog in your mind back enough to actually verbalize them.

“Yes Daddy,” You said, frowning at how horse and garbled your voice was.

she hummed, carefully maneuvering you back towards the door. One hand stayed securely wrapped around you as the other reached into the bag you hadn’t seen her enter with and pulled out your soft, brown leather collar.

You hadn’t seen it since you left for tour, and just the sight was almost enough to send you back into a drop.

“Easy,” Alessia murmured, guiding you towards the couch that existed in all of your dressing rooms. She sat you on the edge, and kneeled in front of you so she was slightly shorter than you.

She trailed her hand down your arm to the bracelet around your wrist, carefully unclasping it and tucking it into her pocket. She then brought the soft leather of your regular collar to your neck, gently buckling it closed, making sure it wasn’t too tight.

Your shoulders immediately relaxed, the full weight of her claim settling on you.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” She said, catching your hand and standing you up. You went with her easily, leaning your weight on her as she led you to the bathroom.

The way she undressed you both and got you settled into the warm water of the shower was familiar, routine even.

You could feel yourself settling as she washed your hair, and cleaned your body of the sweat from the show.

She touched you like you were delicate, but not like you were fragile, and it was everything you needed to wade back to reality.

By the time she was using a towel to dry you off, and slipping one of her old UNC sweatshirts over your head you felt almost like yourself again. Your thoughts didn’t hurt anymore, and you were more grounded then you had been.

“Kneel for me,” She said softly, settling herself on the couch, and placing a pillow at her feet.

You hummed, and did as she asked, letting her guide you to lean back on her legs.

You sunk into the warmth of her sweatshirt, surrounded by the scent of her perfume as she toweled off your hair and braided It for you.

The rhythmic movement of her fingers through your hair and the feeling of safety and Alessia that encompassed you were enough to have your eyelids drooping.

You blinked heavily at the knock that sounded on the door, and the blonde head of your head of security poking his head in.

Steve didn’t look at you, steadfastly keeping his eyes on Alessia. “Miss Russo, we have the car ready whenever you are ready to leave.”

“Thank you, Steven,” She said softly, authority still dripping from her tone. “We’ll be out in a few minutes,”

He nodded and closed the door quietly as he exited.

“You’re all done, little one,” Alessia said, rubbing gentle circles in your shoulders, as you leaned further into her, your eyes sliding closed without your permission.

They only opened when she shifted behind you, and you turned to look at her sleepily.

She smiled gently at you, unable to stop herself from leaning in and pressing a quick peck to your lips.

This was her favorite version of you, soft and sleepy, unguarded and completely trusting. It was the version that only she got to see, and she was honored that you had chosen her to be your safe place.

”Alright little one,” She said, her finger hooked into the O-ring at the front of your collar, tugging lightly as she stood. “Let’s go home,”

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #Safe Harbor Universe

516 notes · View notes