#let alone pace and feel whats not boring for the reader...

[askfallenroyalty]

absolutely wild to me that for me, i have the story laid out and the comics prepared ahead of time so it's one long sequence. but because it's posted bi-weekly, moments linger and the intended and unintended feelings of the scene last for days, if not weeks.

biggest point: tuesday and thursday work together to me in a simple scene of (set up) and (pay off). but without that pay off, you get a different impression than what i was expecting... i guess this is a microcosm of when i wrote Asriel as a total Jerkwad but I knew their true intentions the whole time. like it was easy to paint them so cruel, cause i knew the pay off was an interesting introspection and critique of capitalism and closeting/isolating oneself from loved ones and soceity.

one of these i gotta reread the story and try my best not to think about my perspective as the writer and think over how i protrayed asriel earlier on in the continue arc.

since you guys actually lived through it- what's your thoughts? did i go too hard in that portrayal? i remember at least one person thought i actually hated asriel because of this at one point afkjasdf

i should mention this chapter serves to humanize Asriel's breakdown and set up a couple aspects of their heel turn to face turn (what would that be called??) hard to explain but basically, you can see Asriel's callousness and "super villian" energy at full display but it's all painted in (what i hope) a very sympathetic and understandable light.

i reaaaally love the tug and pull "is asriel flowey? was asriel flowey all along?" dynamic of the story and i'm hoping this scene can be pointed to as evidence for either side of the arguement

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Would you do sevika x reader with tribadism? 👉👈

This is probably the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written. Ykw, fuck it!! HELL YEAHH

Times Two

Sevika x Female Reader! (Smut)

Contains: No plot, sex: scissoring and oral (r! receiving). Lips are referred to as your folds, js so yk.

A/N: another short fic sighhh + i didnt know how to end it STOPP PLS AHHHH.

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Of course your girlfriend wanted to ruin you, what else could she possibly want from your tight cunt?

Legs spread and wrapped around your girlfriend’s head, she gave you the honour of having your pussy ate out. With her tongue exploring every inch of you she let herself taste it all. Your cum was, undoubtedly, her favourite thing to eat. Morning or night she’d have to have a lick of you. So, with it almost reaching midnight your girlfriend never slowed her pace and only sucked, bit down, onto your clit to taste more of your sweet skin.

You tasted amazing, as she’d said multiple times in a row. “You always taste so good,” “could eat you for hours, baby.” She’d even humm in approval every now and then to let you know just how delicious you were.

To be frank, she was addicted to your pussy.

With your hands gripping onto hers, fingers intertwined tightly, you couldn’t help but be vocal. Sevika’s mouth was damn good at everything it did. Spreading your folds while delving into your cunt? She was a master when it came to making you cum with her tongue alone. Even the feel of her hot breath against your pooling cunt was enough to send a shiver of pleasure through you. It was like every nanometer of her had you going, had you cumming in minutes.

“S’good for me, hm?” She spread your lips apart with her flesh hand, and sucked on your clit until she was satisfied with how swollen it was. The room was filled with your moaning and the slurping noise coming from your girlfriend, who was eating you out like it was her last meal. It was the way her lips curled around your clit that had your legs shaking, had you utterly weak. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” Of course you’d cum, how the hell could you not?

Feeling the last bit of composure slip you reached your peak. Eyes fluttering shut with a cry, you let the orgasm hit. With your thighs tightening their wrap around Sevika’s head, you feel your body shake and tremble with the overwhelmingly intense pressure you’d just released. Your girlfriend only stared in awe at your sensitivity, she could watch you cum for hours and never get bored.

As breathless as your girlfriend had you, she wasn’t done. Heavily kissing her way up to your breasts she nipped on your nipples, sending you back into building the pressure you’d just released again. “You’re damn pretty like this..” with her voice a grunt, she grabbed your ankle and rested it on her shoulder while her legs stayed on either side of one of yours. Her neglected cunt was only a few inches away from your soaked one.

Sevika was gonna have fun with this one.

On her knees, your girlfriend rocked her pussy against yours and created the delicious friction she’d been craving. “Vika—.. oh god..” your mind was going fuzzy and you knew damn well you’d finish quickly again. “You like this?” Sevika, herself, was enjoying it all. Her mech hand came to hold your shaking leg, the one on her shoulder, in place as she increased her pace, she wasn’t going to stop until she got the release she needed. “It’s good.. shit, Sevi…”

And, there you were, about to cum with only a few good rubs. Your girlfriend wouldn’t hold back when it came to her own release, it was your job to provide her the same pleasure she did you. With a soft whine, “don’t stop.. please,” you found yourself delaying the, much needed, orgasm in order to please the muscular woman inbetween your legs. The muscular woman who was a whimpering mess.

Yeah, she was whimpering.

Who knew she could do such a thing; you and no one else. “It’s.. too damn good..” sevika would breath out. Fold rubbing against fold, clit rubbing against clit, your girlfriend looked utterly beautiful in the position. Her abs highlighted by a thin layer of sweat, her breats looking as gorgeous as ever, and her damn pussy. It was all pretty, soaked, and heated.

“I’m close, baby..” was all your girlfriend whimpered out before gripping tightly into your leg, her fingers digging into your flesh as she rode through the orgasm. Sevika was fast when it came to cumming, she couldn’t last as long as you even if she tried. Seeing her at her peak was a sight for sore eyes, one you’d never forget. Eyes shut, brows furrowed, and her bottom lip being bit your girlfriend looked hot. And she didn’t stop her grinding until you, yourself, were cumming alongside with her.

It lasted a good while, your hips shuddering against your girlfriend’s and you were slowly beginning to feel the exhaustion creeping in. It felt good, too good. It wasn’t just the feeling though, it was the way your girlfriend looked weak in the knees for the orgasm that ran through her muscular body. It was the way her head rolled back that had your eyes glued, had your cunt throbbing until the orgasm hit. Everything about her had you cumming harder than usual. Her naked form infront of you would definitely cause distraction, cause the butterflies in your stomach to fly wild.

[d3vilcvntz]

local slutboy taken a liking to you ?!?

top male reader x bottom character

you hated yourself for even agreeing with your friends to go into a random town just to get drunk. it will be fun they said, but now you're just dying to go home and lay down on your comfy soft bed. unfortunately for you, you can't just ditch your friends and go home because you came here with their car,no taxi around here either so you're just stuck here, bored as hell. maybe a smoke break will clear your mind a little

so here you are, standing in a random dark alleyway to smoke. well, that's your plan until a random person approached you. he's wearing a hoodie that's definitely too big for him with a face mask "mind giving me some?" he suddenly asked, walking closer to you

you stared at him for a sec before turning away "nah, this shit expensive man. rather not give it to random guy" you replied, looking at him again. he just chuckled at your response "i've never seen your face here before. you're not from here im guessing?" he asked, which you answered with a simple nod, "it's dangerous to wonder around here all alone you know. these people aren't really friendly" he said, smiling at you

"...what do you want from me ?" you responded to him quite harshly, clearly annoyed that someone disturb your peace. "nothing, i just want you" he replied almost instantly. you just looked at him like he's crazy and awkwardly laughed, brushing it off as a joke before he spoke again, "im a sex worker, im quite popular around here. you're lucky that im offering my service to you" he said, getting uncomfortably closer to you

"I'll pass, don't carry cash with me" you responded, turning around to walk away until he grabbed your arm and push you against the wall

"don't worry. i won't charge you much. how about.... you give me the pack of cigarettes and i let you hit? a good deal isn't it ?" you looked at him once again, "tempting isn't it? don't be scared now, i promise that im better than any women you've ever slept with" he whispered to your ear

you'll definitely regret this later but oh well, you've been pent up after all, being single and shit for so long. before you can even say anything, "I'll give you a tease" he said with a smile, before kneeling down and tugged on your pants "i can tell that you're big even from far" rubbing your clothed cock while looking up at you

slowly pulling your pants and underwear down, revealing your half-hard cock. "oh, look! someone's already excited even though he was acting all tough before" he teased you,slightly pushing his mask up so he can kiss the tip of your cock before swallowing it whole. getting head from a stranger in a dark alleyway is not your plan but you are not complaining at this point. i mean, he's not that bad looking now that you can kinda see half of his face, he's quite pretty actually.

he looks up to you before pushing your cock all the way to his throat. he's practically sucking your cock like it's the best meal he ever had "you're getting close?" he asked, stroking your cock

you came all over his mouth and mask after a few minutes of throatfucking him "woah.... it's so thick, you must been pent up this whole time" he said, putting his mask back on properly before standing up again "wanna try my hole next ? all of my customers love it" he teased, pulling his own pants down, revealing that he's wearing nothing under it with his own cock leaking precum "hoodie stays on though, but I'll give you a little teaser" he said, giving you a smile before lifting up his hoodie revealing his nipples piercings

he grabbed your hand to feel his body "do you like it? I've never show my body to anyone else you know" he said, giving you a little smile "anyways, lets get into the good part" he continued, turning around, spreading his cheeks apart, showing you his twitching pink hole

you pushed your cock inside him "you're so big" he moaned. slowly moving your hips to let him adjust to your cock before picking up the pace. you thrust into so eagerly "looks like you like it too" he teased, which made you pick up the pace

he's slowly losing his grip on the wall, knees shaking from your hard thrusts "shit, i can't hold myself up anymore" he said, trying to keep himself up. you pulled out your cock "huh? why did you-" you turned him around to face you before lifting him up "oh, missionary huh? i like it" he whispered to your ear seductively

you pushed your cock all the way in him which caught him off guard, his moans became high pitched and louder than before. his hands grips tightly on your shirt, "shit..the way your cum smells on my mask is so...intoxicating. and your cock too.. fuck, it's so deep"

you know that you're close when you can feel your lower abdomen grows hot, wanting to release all of your cum into him. he's getting close too, with the way he can't even speak any coherent sentences and his eyes are rolled back "please cum inside me, shit.. i need you to cum deep inside of me" you slammed your cock inside him one last time, releasing your cum as he came right after

you let him down and clean yourself up and so does he "i really wish that you'd become my regular now. nobody ever fucks me that good" he said, pulling his pants up "hey, put your number in my phone. maybe we can meet up and fuck in my dorm later on" he continued, handing his phone to you.

you gave him your number and passed it back to him "thanks sweetheart" he replied, giving you a wink. you looked at your watch and realise it's quite late, your friends might be looking for you at this point. don't want to make them suspect anything, "i need to go now, it's great meeting you..." you told him, which he replied with a smile. as he turned around to walk away, you suddenly remembered something and grabbed his arm. surprised, he looks at you and smiled "oh! are you not satisfied with one round?" he teased you before you quickly shoved the cigarettes pack into his hand "here, as we promise" you told him before walking away, leaving him standing there

he watched as you walked away, wanting to pull on your arm and tell you to stay. but he can't, he shouldn't do it. maybe he'll contact you again soon, he's taken a liking to you now ♡

a/n: this shit is inspired by a doujin i've seen lol

[nadvs]

cam girl (part twelve) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe realizes his hands are shaking as he rereads your text.

His eyes keep going over your words, standing up off his bed and pacing around his room just because the adrenaline won’t let him stay seated.

Why the fuck are you doing this to him?

i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i

Hot anger bubbles inside his chest. He immediately texts you back: what the fuck do you mean

Minutes pass. You don’t answer.

Rafe: ?????

Again. No answer.

Rafe: dont ignore me

He can’t take it anymore. He taps on the Call button. It rings and rings and rings. He texts you again.

Rafe: answer me

Finally, you respond: i dont need to listen to you. leave me alone

This has to be a cruel joke. Yet again, you’re cold to him out of fucking nowhere, after he thought you had a good time together.

Rafe recalls this morning, to the worried look on your face when you saw his black eye, making him think that maybe you see something of value past the wall he built around him.

He risked his pride by telling you that he always thinks about you, and now you’re done with him?

He texts you again: why are u acting like this

Thank fuck you respond.

You: i guess the slut got bored of you first

His body goes cold. He knows you’re referring to what one of his friends said. You heard that?

If that’s why you’re so pissed off, he needs to talk to you about it in person. He grabs his car keys and rushes out of the house.

Rafe is pounding on your door for so long that his hand is starting to hurt almost as much as it did when he threw those punches last night.

He feels himself teetering on the edge, getting close to the manic state he knows and hates.

He pulls his phone out to text you: open the door

You: ??? i’m not home

At this point, he sees red. He could break his damn phone if he didn’t need it right now. He calls you again, his jaw clenched so tight that it hurts.

His stomach tightens when the dial tone stops after two rings.

“Am I gonna have to block your number?” you say when you answer. The sound of a crowd and loud music buzzes in the background. He clues in that you’re at a party.

“Where are you?” he asks, head hanging, staring at the hallway floor.

“That’s none of your business.” He can hear a slur in your words.

“Are you drunk?”

“I can drink if I want to. I know you love to think you own me, but you don’t.”

Rafe swallows hard, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard your voice shake. Fuck. You’re crying and it’s his fault.

“Where are you?” Rafe repeats. “Let’s - we need to…” He’s stammering, anxious and unbalanced. “We need to talk… I swear, I’ll fucking wait here until you come home if you don’t tell me where you are.”

Your back is against a wall, the phone pressed to your ear. The room is loud and humid from all the bodies crammed together into one house.

You hate that you’re crying over him and you hate that he can hear it. As if his ego needs the boost.

“Why?” you finally ask, voice strained, hoping he’ll tell you what you want to hear. That there’s a part of him that cares about you.

Rafe is silent for a moment.

“Which one is it?” His chest is tight. He can’t say it now. Not over the phone.

“Neither,” you reply, then hang up. You know he’s just horny and possessive and mad. And definitely bluffing.

You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you take another shot. Time melts away from you as you get lost in the music with your friend, determined to get Rafe and his drama off of your mind.

It’s half past one in the morning when you order a cab. The alcohol has almost worn off at this point. Someone spilled a drink on you and you just want to take a shower and sleep. You have to promise yourself that you won’t give into the impulse to wear Rafe’s shirt to bed.

You exit the elevator and your heart stops when you see Rafe sitting on the floor, his back against your door, his knee raised, his head slumped.

He meant it. He waited. For over three fucking hours.

When you get close enough for him to hear your footsteps, Rafe clambers up to stand, towering over you. His eyes sweep over your face, the blue in them even more prominent in contrast to the dark bruise over his right eye.

Even though your heart, the traitor, is thumping with desire, the ache of what he did to you is louder. It was barbaric, what he said about you. What he let his friend say about you.

“Why are you still here?” you say as evenly as you can.

“You can’t…” Rafe shakes his head, frustrated. He immediately notices you’re not wearing the necklace he gave you and his chest aches. “You can’t end this.”

“Watch me,” you say with a scoff, nudging past him. You feel him behind you, hear his shallow breaths. You unlock your door and pull out your keys.

He won’t move. You turn to look at him again, feeling your lips thin in aggravation.

“Rafe,” you state. “Please. I just want to shower and sleep. Go home.”

“No,” he says stubbornly.

“Why can’t you just go find another girl to fuck around with?” you say, raising your tone.

He almost feels nauseous hearing you say that.

“Are you worried you won’t find one who does everything like I do?” you ask. “I just can’t say no, right? That’s what you told your friends.”

Rafe looks down in shame, nostrils flaring. His lips screw up in anger. He has no words to offer.

“Go home,” you repeat. You’re sure he’s just upset about losing his favorite booty call, just so not accustomed to not getting what he wants.

Rafe doesn’t budge. You’re sober enough to know you can’t continue this conversation in the hallway and risk your voices carrying into your neighbors’ homes.

Frustrated and embittered, you turn your doorknob and accept the fact that he’s not leaving without a fight.

You turn on the dim overhead light and stand in your tiny kitchen, facing Rafe with your arms crossed, as the door shuts behind him.

He steps towards you, hands sliding up your arms before he leans down to try to kiss you.

“Stop,” you mutter, shoving him off, pushing him away.

He tries again, putting his palms on your cheeks.

“No,” you snap, driving him away harder.

Rafe feels hollow. Lost. He’s fine with showing anger. It’s second nature to him. But this? This tangled feeling of yearning feels impossible to verbally express to you.

“Why?” is all he can sputter.

“I’m not letting you use me anymore,” you say through gritted teeth.

Rafe had no idea you’d react like this over the moronic shit he and his friend said. He thought you were fine with how things were. That you were detached.

Despite the rage and anxiety consuming him, the fact that you’re this angry over this ridiculous idea that you’re not a person to him, that you maybe want to be more, makes hope bloom in his heart.

“It’s not like that,” Rafe says.

“It is,” you argue. “I’m done acting like I’m okay with it. I could handle it at the beginning, but…”

You sigh. You can’t give him the satisfaction of telling him you have feelings for him. You start to get choked up again, though, your body betraying you. You can’t hide what he does to you from him anymore.

“I’m done,” you say resolutely. This man is nothing but trouble. “My contact picture in your phone is a fucking nude. I’m just body parts to you and I respect myself too much to keep this going. Just leave. You won’t change my mind.”

“I can’t… I can’t not see you anymore,” he grovels.

“You’re just mad you won’t be able to brag to your buddies about what I let you do to me.”

“No.” Rafe brings the heels of his hands up to his eyes, looking so damn flustered. “I’m not mad about that. I… Fuck, it’s…”

“What about when he called me a slut to run through? You laughed. After he said something so fucking horrible about me-”

“Wait,” he snaps, tone rising. “Just wait. Let me talk.”

“Then talk,” you say sharply, shocked by his audacity to be the angry one here.

He takes a deep breath.

“When he called you that, I…” Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. “It’s how we always talk and I - I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him to shut the fuck up. And then last night…”

He vaguely gestures to his black eye. His mind replays the rage he felt when he heard the vulgar words used to describe you. The way his fist met his friend’s jaw. Rafe walked away with a swollen eye, but it was nothing compared to what he had inflicted.

“He said something about you and I beat the shit out of him like I should’ve the first time.”

“What’d he say?” you ask after a beat.

“It doesn’t matter.”

So, that’s what happened to him last night. You’re almost touched to hear he defended your honor, but the memory of the text you saw on his phone darkens your mood instantly, reminding you of how dispensable and cheap it made you feel.

“This the same friend who texted you about all the bitches at that party?” you say bitterly.

Rafe meets your gaze.

“You saw that?”

“Yeah,” you say. Rafe realizes that was the reason for your abrupt coldness. You were jealous. He hates that he hurt you, but admittedly, the feeling of you being envious over him is so fucking gratifying.

He sighs your name. He didn’t even glance at another girl last night. Why would he? “For fuck’s sake, I texted you all night. I told you I’m always thinking about you.”

“Rafe, you texted me about how all you want to do is hook up with me.”

“That’s not… that’s not all I want,” he sighs, defeated. How can he explain that the way he touches you is how he tells you what he’s feeling? He’s so fucking bad at talking about it.

“Then why did you talk about me like that?” you ask.

“I was…” Rafe begins. He swallows hard, his eyes refusing to meet yours now. “I know I shouldn’t have said that shit but-”

“You’re only saying this now ‘cause you got caught.”

“No, it’s - it’s more than that. I-”

“You were just being honest,” you say with a shrug. “I did everything you told me to and you wanted to brag.”

“Yeah- I mean, no…” he stammers. Your use of the past-tense is so damn hurtful, the implication that you really are through with him, and before he can think to hide it, tears start to gloss his eyes. “Just listen-”

“If I’m just an easy fuck to you, then that’s fine, just own up to it.”

“Let me talk!” he finally shouts. Rafe’s head is spinning. He’s angry and anxious and close to losing his mind.

You don’t even cower, not letting him get to you. But when you realize he’s crying, too, your blood runs cold.

“Goddamn it.” He frantically brings his hands up to his head, fingers on his temples. “I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know how to- I don’t know how to talk about this fucking feeling you give me.”

“Try,” you say.

Rafe’s breath is shaky, blinking fast as he gazes at you.

“This is more than sex. I’m fucking… I’m falling for you,” he finally admits.

No words come to your mind. The air between you is thick. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Your stomach is numb.

Rafe lowers his gaze, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s worked himself up in such a panic.

He doesn’t know how or when you cracked into this side of him that he didn’t even know existed, but you did. And you’re not leaving.

“Are you serious?” you ask quietly through a shallow exhale.

“Do I need to beg you to believe me?” he says.

“Yeah,” you say with a sarcastic huff, pushing him to see where his limit is. To see if he’s being honest.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when Rafe sinks down onto the floor in front of you, his knees on your cheap linoleum. He takes your hand in his, pulling it to his warm mouth, soft lips kissing your palm.

He realizes he would rather lose all of his pride than lose you.

“Rafe,” you say, the edge to your tone completely gone now.

The shift in your dynamic is harrowing. He’s always the one in control, the one with the upper hand. Now he’s on his fucking knees for you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I’m so fucking sorry I said that shit. I’ll never do it again. You’re not just an easy…”

He can’t even say it.

“You’re so much more,” he says. There’s hopelessness in his gaze. You’re rattled with shock, your heart feeling like it’s burning in your chest.

You can’t believe it. You can’t fathom that he likes you more than just from the waist down.

“What if I stopped hooking up with you?” you challenge. “I keep seeing you but it’s nothing physical. What then?“

“That’s okay,” he says, without hesitation.

“I mean no sex,” you say. “At all.”

“Fine.”

You pout at him in endearment as relief pools through you.

Rafe is racked with the deepest form of desperation. He can’t picture a day without you. Without your smile, your humor, your voice, your smell. He fell off the deep end and there’s no fucking saving him.

Your stare is puncturing him. He’s sure he fucked up too massively to earn any sort of chance with you ever again.

But when you finally lean down to press your lips onto his, euphoria rushes through his entire being. He frantically scrambles to stand, feeling his face contort with disbelief and gratefulness and a yearning so hard that it hurts.

Rafe’s kisses are deep but fast, his big hands cradling your head, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

You pull back, looking up at him with a tiny shred of remaining suspicion that he’s not being genuine.

“Let me stay the night,” he says, voice low, lids heavy. You’re unsure that he really means he’d be with you even without the sex.

You only look at him.

“I won’t try anything,” he adds. He knows you needed the reassurance. You stare at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, resting your hands on his firm, heaving chest.

“Shower with me,” you tell him, restless to wash the night off of you. “And prove it.”

Rafe nods, your face still in his hands. Fuck, he feels like you have him wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything to keep you in his life.

“Let me do the work,” he says.

You step back, heart racing, and raise your hands over your head. His fingers quickly find the edge of your top, slowly lifting it and pulling it off of you. Your jeans are next, the denim sliding down your legs.

Rafe presses against you, leading you backwards into your bathroom. His lips press against your forehead as he unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the floor.

He’s on his knees again as he peels your underwear off. You watch his eyes trail up your bare body. He can’t hide the lust in his stare, no matter how hard he tries.

As you turn on the shower, you hear the rustle of him taking his clothes off. When you step into the tub, you feel his body against your back. Big hands skim up your arms as you turn the faucet, prompting hot water to rain down on both of you.

Rafe can’t stop himself from asking.

“Did you talk to any guys at that party?” His voice echoes against the porcelain, loud even over the sound of the shower.

You smile to yourself.

“How am I gonna focus on another guy when you’re texting me so damn much?”

“Princess,” he huffs. You laugh and turn in his arms to rest your hands on his shoulders.

“No,” you tell him. “I didn’t want to.”

Rafe smirks and leans down, but stops an inch away from your lips.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he asks.

“Hmm… fine,” you tease. “But that’s the farthest you can go.” He captures your lips in his, his mouth warm. You feel him grow against you and you pull away to look down, his cock already almost fully hard.

“Okay, I can’t control that,” he says. You meet his eyes and share the first laugh that you’ve had together tonight.

You pick up your body wash and hand it to him. It’ll drive him crazy to touch you like this and not be able to do anything about it.

“You get my body,” you say, admittedly excited to tempt him. “And I’ll do my hair.”

Rafe’s forehead crinkles in concentration as he squeezes the body wash into his palm. Your eyes are on him as he lathers the gel over your shoulders first.

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” you giggle, starting to massage your shampoo into your hair.

The sound of your laugh, the aroma in the air is so fucking nice to him. It’s so you.

His palms move up and down your arms in gentle circles. Rafe’s groin is getting tighter by the second and the fact that he won’t get any relief for it is agony. But he needs to prove himself to you.

“You ignoring my tits on purpose?” you ask.

Rafe cocks his head in mild irritation. Touching you there will only make him harder. You exhale in pleasure once his hands rest on your breasts, gently kneading.

“You can’t make those sounds,” he says, voice strained.

“I can do whatever I want,” you reply. His hands dip below the curves of your tits. You purposely moan louder than you normally would just to torment him.

His jaw tightens as he collects more of your body wash to smooth down your stomach. His hands slide over your hips, the water and soap making your skin extra slippery, and he lands on your ass.

“Massage me a bit there,” you tell him. He huffs an aggravated chuckle, then starts to rub into your flesh.

The crook of Rafe’s neck is at your chin as he leans to massage you and you plant a gentle kiss on his wet skin. The gesture makes his stomach twist with adoration.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he mumbles, running his hands up your back. You can feel him against your leg; he’s fully erect and pining for you to touch him.

“My ass is still sore,” you groan, continuing to lather the shampoo onto your hair. “You were so rough on me in front the mirror, remember?”

The memory of fucking you on the floor in his room makes his arousal skyrocket even higher. He exhales and smooths his hands over your ass again.

You tilt your head to the side as you moan. You feel Rafe’s mouth press against your exposed neck, then he grunts against your skin and moves away abruptly.

“Getting frustrated?” you whisper.

“No,” he lies.

The hot water continues to ebb down your body as Rafe squeezes your ass.

“You can get my legs now,” you mumble. He’s half-relieved, half-frustrated to have to move his hands.

Rafe rubs in circles over your thighs, his breath heavy.

“Get on your knees so you can reach everything,” you say as you wash out the shampoo from your hair. You’re testing him, ordering him around like he usually does to you, seeing if he’ll crack.

When he kneels down, you hike your leg up onto the tub, your middle inches away from his face.

“Fuck,” he breathes, wishing he could just taste you. His hands are sliding down your calves as he gawks at the beauty between your legs, knowing you’re purposely tempting him.

His eyes trail up to your face. He looks ravenous for you.

Falling for you. He said he was falling for you.

“What?” you say with a smile. Rafe only shakes his head, continuing to run his hands over your legs.

“I said kissing is allowed,” you say, revelling in this feeling of control over him.

He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are against your pussy immediately, kissing you over and over. If you tried to keep count of how many kisses he was planting on you, you’d fail in seconds.

Arousal twists deep inside you, wanting him so badly, but loving the game you’re playing.

His lips wrap around your clit and he starts to suck, prompting you push your fingers through his hair, damp from the shower, and tug to pull him off of you.

“Kisses only,” you say. “Unless you didn’t mean what you said?”

“I did,” he huffs. He roughly shoves your wrist away to get close to you again, lips puckered. You feel his fingers ghost over your inner thighs, then pull apart your lips.

“Can I spread you open, baby?” he asks.

“No,” you respond.

“Please,” he begs.

“Kisses. Only.”

He groans. You laugh.

“You got me so turned on,” you moan. “I need to just…”

You slip your fingers between his mouth and your clit, denying him any more access.

Rafe thinks this could be thing to that finally makes him lose his fucking mind. But he stays still, knees aching from the hard tub, as you play with yourself right in front of him.

“That feels so nice,” you whisper, your knees weak. You put your other hand against the shower wall, looking down at him.

“Hold me up,” you order. He grips your hips and watches you moan and writhe over him, dipping your head back.

You dip a finger inside of you, tightening and sighing.

“Fuck.” He literally whimpers the word.

“God, there’s so many things I can think about while I touch myself,” you moan. “Like when we fucked in your car? Or when I squirted on you?”

“Which time?” he mutters, trying to have any sort of power right now by reminding you of what he can do to you.

“Aw,” you coo. “Is this like when I’m on camera? You can watch but you can’t touch me?”

“Shit,” Rafe breathes. You moan, the water dripping off of you.

He has to look away at this point. His cock is so hard that it hurts. His eyes go low, seeing a bead of precum on his swollen tip. He tries to comfort himself by thinking about how he can jerk off later.

“Get up,” you say. He brings himself up on his feet, towering over you again.

You turn your back to him again and start to rub your scalp to make sure you washed all the shampoo out.

“You’re probably cold on that side, hmm?” you ask.

Rafe’s temperature is the least of his concerns.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. You run your hands down your body and pause over your ass, spreading yourself open.

“Put your cock right here,” you tell him.

“I- I can’t,” he moans.

“You can,” you encourage.

He kneels to place himself right where you want him. You let go, your asscheeks hugging him, feeling his length pressed up against you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, twitching against you. “This is… fuck…”

“If you didn’t mean that you can be with me without the sex, just say so.”

“I meant it,” he says. “But this is torture. I need to go. I’ll wait for you in your room, okay?”

“You can’t keep it together for me?” you tease. “I thought you liked me.”

“I fucking love you,” Rafe groans, making your heart flutter.

You’re done playing this game. You need him now.

You turn to face him, pulling him down with your hands cupping his neck to kiss him. He’s biting your bottom lip, kissing you hard.

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers breathlessly.

“I want to,” you say against his lips, wrapping your hand around his cock. “What do you want?” He bucks up against you, groaning.

“I wanna fuck you,” he pleads.

“Then fuck me.”

Rafe’s rough and fast as he hitches your leg up, pushing you to lean against the shower wall. He lines himself up at your cunt, stretching you so much nicer than your fingers ever could.

He keeps his eyes on you when he thrusts into you, his expression both needy and satisfied.

“Thank you,” he whispers. The feeling of him thanking you for letting him be inside you hits you like a drug.

Rafe is in heaven. You squeeze him so fucking good as he rocks in and out of you. He needs to make you cum before he does. You deserve it. You deserve all the pleasure in the world.

When he starts to rub his thumb over your clit, you’re trembling with bliss. Everything in this moment feels so damn good.

“You’re my girl,” he mumbles, his usual possessive side back now. “Say it.”

“I’m your girl,” you respond. “Fuck… I love you.”

Rafe is sure he has never felt happier in his life. His thrusts get harder and faster, and with the pressure on your clit and the hot water coating your body, you whine through your orgasm.

To him, it’s a gift watching you reach your peak. You clench around him in rhythmic flutters and he can’t hold back anymore, his cum gushing out of him so fucking hard that he sees stars.

This is the best sex he’s ever had. Because now he knows it’s more than just something physical for both of you.

He kisses you hard as his body trembles, pumping into you. His forehead is against yours as you pant together and even though he’s exhausted, he stays inside you as long as he can manage.

When he pulls out, he brings his hands to your cheeks and kisses you again.

“You meant that?” he asks. He needs to know you that really do love him. That it wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. You look up at him, his lips parted, the water dripping down his face.

“Yes,” you say. His dimples are deep in his cheeks as he smiles at you.

As Rafe helps you clean up, he’s pissed at himself that he never did this before. He hates that you had to always do this alone. He won’t ever let that happen again.

Once you’re both lying in your bed, your bedroom dark save for a streetlamp casting a dull light through the window, Rafe holds you tight.

Your cheek is against his shoulder as he surrounds you in his arms. You both remained naked and the feeling of your bare bodies pressed together like this is perfection.

You softly trace your finger over the bruise covering his eye. The one his friend left on him because of something he said about you.

“What’d he say?” you ask.

“I’m not repeating it,” Rafe replies.

“Please?” you ask. “I wanna know what made you go crazy.”

“He said I seem happier lately,” Rafe says. “And before I told him it was because I wanna… be with you for real, he said… he wants to see if he could get…”

“God,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t have to say any more. His buddy wanted a turn with you.

“But hey, I’m not gonna let anyone say anything like that about you, okay?” he promises. “I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to.”

You picture being out in public with Rafe, his arm around you. And you can’t help but ask. You need to know.

“So… are you gonna… want me around your friends and stuff?” you ask.

“Of course,” he tells you, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my girl, right?”

It’s jarring. You’re not a lower-class maid to him. Not his personal whore. Not his slutty sugar baby. You’re a woman he loves.

Legs tangled, you fall asleep together, and you adore that the worry of falling for him is now gone. Because you’re in love, and so is he, and now you can enjoy him without telling yourself you can’t.

When you wake up the next morning, you shuffle in your position to find him, but you’re alone.

Your heart drops. Could he have been faking…?

You can’t jump to that conclusion. You’re about to check your phone when you hear crinkling coming from the kitchen.

You put on underwear and the shirt you stole from him a while ago before padding into the kitchen. He’s standing over your table, removing containers from bags.

You realize it’s from your favorite nearby bistro. He ordered food for you.

“Breakfast?” you ask. Rafe looks up at you and he doesn’t understand how every time he sees you, you strike him with how adorable you are.

“You hungry?” he says.

You settle across from him at the table. You realize he must have referenced the screenshot you sent him after the first night that he stayed over, when he sent you money to order breakfast and you sent him proof of what you bought.

As you dig into your food, you gaze at him. Blue eyes meet yours. He smirks. It doesn’t feel real. He used to look so out of place in your apartment, but this feels so natural.

“We gonna talk about how much of a cuddler you are?” you tease.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Eat your food.”

You laugh and continue to chew.

“What do you have to do today?” he asks.

“I should study,” you say. “I was going to last night after work, but you know…”

Rafe looks down and his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow.

“Are you gonna keep working?” he asks. “I don’t want you to. I wanna take care of you.”

As much as he loves seeing you around his house twice a week, he’s been getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea of you having to work so hard, having to clean up after him.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “I think I need to have the independence. To know I’m working for my own money. Does that make sense?”

“With your attitude? Yeah,” he says. You laugh.

You hope the gossip between your coworkers doesn’t get any farther up the chain. For now, you want to keep your job and the steadiness it promises.

“You can’t pull me away from my work to hook up whenever you want, though, okay?” you say.

“Even when I find you in my bed?” he asks.

“That was one time,” you scoff.

Rafe leans over to place his phone in front of you. He has your contact info up. The photo isn’t what it was before, though. It’s a photo of you sleeping, cheek pressed on his chest.

He must have taken it this morning. He wants to prove you’re not just a body to him.

Your eyes study his screen and you smile, oblivious to the fact that he’s staring at you.

But then again, you never really noticed how much he looked at you whenever you came to work at the house.

He can still remember the rush he felt when he randomly found you on that damn website. You were a fucking fantasy to him, a dream that he never thought he’d get to live out.

But here you are and by some crazy stroke of luck, you found something in him worth loving.

Rafe always enjoyed having some sort of ownership over you, claiming you as his. Because deep down, he always kind of knew he belonged to you. Whether you want him or not, he’s yours.

(the end) (continuation blurbs)

author’s note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES 💘 it’s so bittersweet ending it. i had so much fun writing this and it’s because of your comments and messages 😭 i’ll be writing more fics! if you want updates, please follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications since i’ll be reblogging my work there. love you all!!!

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ GAME OVER!

♰ synopsis: in which you seek attention from your boyfriend and end up paying the price. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. gn!reader. full-nelson. rough sex. tummy bulging. creampie. angry(?)!nagi. minor degradation. cursing. ꒷꒦

“Stop it, Y/N.”

Seishiro warned you without looking up from his phone screen for a moment, his fingers still dancing across the glass with expert skill. You were lying beside him on the couch, your bare foot on his bicep, gently nudging him to throw him off his game. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted his attention, but instead, he chose to play some dumb mobile game. So, you decided to take it upon yourself to get his attention—by lightly kicking him until he paid attention to you.

“Y/N.” His typically soft tone grew a bit of a firm edge, with the slightest hint of frustration making itself known to you.

You giggled to yourself, partially in amusement and partially in incredulity, as you were surprised to hear the slightest infliction of irritation in your typically lax and impassive boyfriend, who, in his own words, “doesn’t get angry because it’s bothersome feeling negative”. Was that about to change? Were you finally about to make Seishiro angry?

There was only one way to find out, right?

You gave him a few moments of reprieve, allowing him to get sucked back into his game and forget about your little mischievous self, despite your antsy toes wiggling against his deltoid giving you away. It appeared to be working because Seishiro's eyes were wide and unblinking as they became laser-focused on his screen, even drawing the device closer to his face just as his tapping became near manic when you suddenly jolted your foot forth and even managed to push Seishiro aside for a second.

“Y/N!—”

GAME OVER, YOU LOSE!

You were so shocked that you could not even contain your laughter. You cackled maniacally as you were holding your stomach at the fact that Seishiro lost, moreover became frustrated with you.

“Haha, I can’t believe it! See, Sei? This is what happens when you chose to ignore me~.”

Though you quickly stopped laughing when your boyfriend's piercing gray eyes locked with yours, his stare was owlish and unwavering, boring fiercely into your own. What made matters worse was that he did not even look angry, but you could feel it radiating off of him in harsh waves that nearly suffocated you and immobilized you where you lay. Your breath caught in your throat as dread suddenly chilled your veins, your mouth gaping as you tried to think of something else to say in your defense, but it was futile.

“So that’s what that was, huh?” His tone was chilling, effectively silencing any rebuttal you could’ve thought to muster up. His head cocked to one side, fluffy bangs shadowing his unblinking eyes as they continued to pierce into your own.

“You just wanted . . . my attention?”

“M’sorry, m’sorry, Sei~! P-please, I can’t! I won’t do it again, I pr-promise—!”

Seishiro had ripped through your underwear, thrown you on top of him, and folded you in a full-nelson to fuck you silly before you could blink. You were choking on your own words as your boyfriend’s cock pistoned in and out of you at a furious pace, leaving you breathless with every unrelenting thrust, each one more vigorous than the last. You could feel him hitting the deepest parts within you, battering your inner walls, and pumping every last bit of his frustration with you into your tight hole.

“But isn’t this what you wanted, Y/N?” He muttered into your ear from behind you. The crazy bastard didn’t even sound breathless as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Wanted to make me angry? Make me lose my game, hm? You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, both in ecstasy and vexation, your jaw lulling open as you babbled incoherent curses through your drooling brims. The pleasure was so great, you felt so full, you could hardly think, let alone form a proper sentence! Not to mention, in this nigh-pornographic position, you were gifted the sight of not only your striker boyfriend pounding you senseless but also the prominent indent that appeared on your belly from every time his stupidly big cock reached the deepest depths within you.

Not caring for a response from you, Seishiro let out a series of soft, muffled grunts from his lips as his cock throbbed within you. “Since this is what you wanted, you should be able to take it, no?”

“B-But Sei! Your too—mpfh! Y-You’re too damn b—”

“—What? Big? You cry about that all the time, Y/N, and yet you take my cock like the pretty slut you are every time without fail.” You could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice as he spoke, pausing his thrusts for merely a second as he adjusted his grip on you, attempting to pry you open further as though you weren’t already splayed out above him. Interlocking his fingers behind your head and pushing himself firmly onto his heels, he basically growled into your ear, “So do me a favor and shut up and take it.”

Without warning, he used his newfound leverage to pound into you with enough force to make your vision go white and your toes curl in the air as he pummeled directly into your sweet spot, eliciting a series of pleasured shrieks and breathless mewls from your drooling lips. You’d be sure to apologize to your neighbors later.

“Ah, there it is. Y’gonna cum f’me?*” He grunted, his breath hot against your ear, as his cock twitched inside of you.

“Oh my god, y-yes! Sei, yes, yes, yes!” You squealed as the knot in your belly tightened.

“Hmmfh, then go on, pretty. Make a mess f’me.”

Before you knew it, you did exactly that, coming undone as you made a mess atop your sweaty and partially clothed bodies. Simultaneously, Seishiro let go inside of you, both of you breathlessly moaning in unison. Your back arched off of his chest as you felt thick, hot ropes of steamy, milky cum shoot into your depths and bloat you full of his seed. It was heavy, too, a result of Nagi not jacking off often, as he found the action to be ‘too much of a hassle when I have you’.

His grip slowly released on you, gently setting your tired and quivering legs down to rest as he lay beneath you, equally exhausted. Even as he did so, his cum still languidly pumped ropes of cum into your abused hole as it slid out of you, making a mess of the poor cushions beneath you two. You would never be able to hold it all, but as you both descended from your highs, neither of you seemed to mind.

Before you could relish in your serenity, you felt a sharp swat on your thigh from your boyfriend beneath you, who now held a small pout on his lips. “Next time you want my attention, just ask. I was about to beat my high score.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes playfully as you gazed lazily up at the ceiling. Oh right, that’s what started this mess, huh?

“Mmm, I dunno, Sei.” You drawled, your voice laced with mischief. “If you’re going to fuck me like that every time I bother you while you play, I might have to do it more often~.”

Seishiro said nothing in response. He didn’t even stir beneath you. That is, until your body was turned over and you found yourself face-down on the cushions, trapped beneath your boyfriend's weight, his thick forearm encircling your throat from behind.

“S-Seishiro—!” There was a squeal in your voice as you felt his arm tighten around your throat, pressing you hard against the cushions with his massive bulk and body weight.

“S’that how you feel, Y/N?” His voice was deep, with the faintest of growls beneath it, as he held you taut in his grasp. Between your thighs, you felt his heavy cock hardening once more as he lazily humped it against you, causing your eyes to widen. After emptying the entirety of his balls into you and fucking you into next year, he was getting hard again?!

“Maybe you still haven’t learned your lesson.”

Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely enthralled by Seishiro when he was like this, and you would most definitely be lying if you said you weren’t going to mess with him while he played again.

ⓒ vampiie 2024 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form. please do not share my work on tiktok or any other site.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pillow princess

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only, male receiving oral, riding, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rafe calls reader kiddo/kid

“rafey.” you whine, stepping into all the chairs circled around, filled with topper, kelce and some other guys you recognize as rafes friends.

“what is it baby?” he questions, giving you his full attention despite all the boys sitting around. he doesn’t care that they see him being affectionate with you. its not like his manliness is in question.

“i miss you.” you complain. you were bored sitting upstairs in your bed all alone. you knew it was boys night. first they watched a game, then sat around and talked and drank, but you wanted your boyfriend, feeling extra clingy today.

“aww, come here kiddo.” rafe leans back, opening up his arms, letting you slot yourself onto his knee. you immediately lean your head against his shoulder, snuggling your body into his.

rafe holds you tight to him, fingers drumming against your thigh as the conversation immediately starts up again. you only pay half attention to it, most being about the game they just watched, or their max bench, whatever boy stuff they usually spend the time chatting about.

your ears perk up when the conversation changes to girlfriend and sex. “man, my girl rides me like a fucking jackrabbit.” one guy laughs, making your nose scrunch up.

the rest chime in, except for rafe. you're not sure if it's just because you're there or if he prefers to keep your sex life private.

“alright, boys.” rafe says. “better get going, my lady clearly needs me.”

you smile and blush, cheeks flaring. you bury your head in rafes shoulder as he says his goodbyes, his friends filling out the door. rafe makes sure it closes behind them before scooping you up, holding you in his arms, not even questioning if you want to be carried upstairs.

“rafe?” you hum as he sets you down on his bed. “you know i would ride you if you wanted it, right?”

rafe lets out a sudden laugh, confused by your question. “what brought this on baby?”

“just the guys… talking about their girlfriends riding them. i never do that for you.” you shrug. 

rafe shakes his head. “i don't mind that you’re a pillow princess.”

you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. “i am not a pillow princess!”

rafe chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you are, but its okay. i like being on top.”

“but-but-” you stammer. “i’m not!” “okay, wanna prove it?” rafe questions, a smirk still playing on his lips, knowing exactly what he's goading you into doing.

“take your clothes off.” you challenge back.

rafe tugs his shirt over his head before pulling at his pants. he undresses quickly, watching as you stand up off the bed to take your tanktop and shorts off. 

rafe climbs onto the bed once he’s stripped, leaning against the headboard with a lazy smile on his face. you blink at his dick, still mostly soft, resting against his thigh. usually rafe will eat you out or finger you and by the time you’re ready to fuck, he’s already hard.

“come on, show you’re not a pillow princess. get me hard.” rafe beckons you over.

you finish taking off your underwear before climbing onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. you reach for his cock, taking it in your hand, starting to stroke it as you watch with fascination as he hardens right under your fingertips.

“gonna suck me off too?” rafe questions.

“maybe.” you hum. you bend down, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, suckingling as your hand continues to stroke most of his length.

you work him until he’s completely hard before letting your mouth sink lower, taking as much as you comfortably can before setting a pace of moving back to just have the tip in your mouth to taking him fully.

“such a good girl.” rafe coos, placing a hand on the back of your head, but he doesn’t force you down, doesn’t help your movements. he lets you take control like you swore you could do.

you reach down between your legs as you suck him off. you’re a little wet, but it’s nothing like when rafe fingers you before sex, so you rub your clit as you flick your tongue over his length, his moans reaching your ears.

you pull off of his cock with a pop, already feeling tired of being in control. you wish rafe would have pushed himself down your throat, showed you just how he liked it, but he just watches you as you climb onto his lap.

you stroke his cock a few more times as you position yourself properly, hovering your cunt over his dick before slowly sinking down, letting out a moan as he fills you up, stretching slightly more than usual without as much prep. 

“it feels different from this angle.” you admit, looking shyly down as you sit on rafes fat cock. you feel it twitch inside you, and you know he’s desperate for you to move from the strained look on his face.

you begin to bounce, placing your hands on his chest. you wish he would grab your waist or your ass, helping you move on his length, but he leaves it up to you as you grind your cunt down.

you already feel your legs beginning to get sore, your muscles not used to this type of motion as you already begin to slow down, ashamed at how fast you are ready to give up, so you try to power through, but to no avail.

“fine.” you give up. “i’m a pillow princess.”

rafe flips you over suddenly, pressing your back into the mattress. “i told you so. should have just listened to me, kid.”

you whine as you wrap your legs around his waist as rafe begins to thrust. “i just like this better.” you don’t want to admit that you got exhausted after a minute of writing, and you really do like rafe on top of you better, his hair falling around his forehead as he looks down at you.

“you’re so pretty baby, i don’t care that i have to do all the work.” rafe says as he pumps into you. “not when your pussy is this tight.”

you grab at rafes shoulders, pulling him down into you so you can press your lips together. rafe grabs your tit with one of his hands, keeping the other around your waist as he kisses you, tongue pushing inside of your mouth as another show of his dominance. 

“gonna cum inside me?” you question.

“of course im gonna baby girl.” rafe says, sealing his promise with a kiss as he begins to move faster, digging deeper into your cunt.

“please.” you whimper, wanting to feel rafe release inside of you. you scratch your fingernails lightly down his back, making him shiver as his cock suddenly pulses, spurts of cum shooting into you.

“oh fuck, baby.” rafe moans as you clench around him, purposely milking him.

rafe collapses to the side of you, slipping out of your cunt, leaving his cum to slide out of your pussy onto the bedsheets.

rafe breathes deeply for a minute while you also try to get your breath back before he turns on his side, kissing your jawline and neck as he brings his hand back towards your pussy, but you shut your legs, squeezing your thighs tightly to deny him.

“but you didn’t cum yet.” rafe says with a pout, feeling like he failed if he can’t get you off too.

“i’m too tired, don’t wanna.” you admit with a shrug, feeling satisfied without the orgasm.

rafe can’t help the small chuckle that leaves his mouth. “you’re too tired from riding me for like two minutes? and you tried to argue that you’re not a pillow princess?” “yeah, whatever.” you roll your eyes. “just cuddle me.”

rafe nods, pulling you in with his big arms, letting you snuggle into his chest. “i love you princess.”

the words warm you, making your cheeks blush, never getting tired of hearing him say those three words as you tip your head up, letting your lips ghost over his. “i love you too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby

[neuvilette-tea-party]

₊ ˙ ⊹Steb x F!reader₊ ˙ ⊹

Headcanons Pre-Relationship SFW

Part 2

I came to realize this format is for shorter stories? But I am an idiot and I cannot stop writing about best boy!

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

As a junior Medic, Steb is your mentor. He silently, but patiently, teaches you. 

Trains with you every day, with a scalpel or boxing gloves. 

Steb is a really good boxer and even better with batons, while you excel in Judo. 

You live life at his pace when you are in the barracks, eating when he eats, training when he trains, sleeping when he sleeps, practicing medicine when he decides it is time to teach you... You become his shadow. 

You practice incisions and stitching wounds on a dummy under his impartial but merciless gaze. He has an unconventional approach to the job himself, but no defective stitches escape his eyes. He asks you to start over each time he finds one, and even if he is instransigent he never refuse to helps, showing you an easier method or a quicker trick.  

You get better and better every day and he appears pleased with you, congratulating you with a nod and a pat on the shoulder. 

When you’re lucky you go on Patrol with him and Maddie, when you are extra lucky only him. But most of the time you are partnered with someone else and you cannot wait to come back to the barracks to train with Steb again! 

He is dead silent but extremely expressive when he wants to be. You learned to decipher every throat muscle contraction, every side eye, every blink, if he uses his third eyelids or not... Every infinitesimal facial twist speaks louder than any word he could say and you’ve gone pro at decoding every single one of them. 

Maddie gets crazy when you have an entire silent conversation with Steb with only raised eyebrows, head tilts, and nods during work. Loris just laughs his ass off at her getting more and more exasperated. 

Steb shows you all the little tricks he learned on the spot and in dire situations, what truly makes the difference between life and death under gunshots, things you do not learn in books or on a dummy. 

He had to stitch some of your wounds after an intense training session, making him softly grin while you sighed deeply, a little bit embarrassed to be so careless. 

You did not know if it was appropriate to eat fish in his presence at first, so you did not. 

He ever so slowly relaxes around you, letting you see his less stoic side from time to time. This is a rarity tho. 

Your unit as a game: the first one to assemble his weapon blindfolded, wins. Steb always beats you with the riffle but you win with the revolver. Loris beats everyone with every weapon. 

Steb keeps you under his wing for months, keeping you company during breaks, playing cards with you, watching movies late at night in the break room, arm wrestling with you when you feel feisty, he cannot beat you to billiards tho but he is good sport. Each days at the barracks you are attached to the hips, so much so that seeing one of you alone raises eyebrows. 

You earned the nickname “Mini-Steb” at the barracks for a time. You find it quite funny but Steb less so. He took the floor, a rarity, and asked your colleagues to respect your individuality and character. This was such a rare occurrence that everyone obeyed without a second word, while you looked at him with round eyes. 

He is a pretty good cook and handles spices at a higher level than any human, that’s why they put a rule in place for him not to spice the dishes himself, this is the only thing he cannot do in the kitchen, cause everyone would have a rough time. You love it when it is your turn to cook with him, Maddie finds it boring because he is even more non-verbal than usual but you love it, you try to match his pace and speed as best you can like a game. 

And because he looks pretty cute in an apron, you have to be honest. 

You discovered Steb had gills on his neck and his ribcage. You noticed the last ones when he took off his shirt during a training session to use the towel on his chest. You went immediately still at that view, completely shocked and hypnotized by that scene. You had to mentally slap yourself to manage to take your eyes off that... beautiful sight and you drank your entire bottle of water in one go, feeling incredibly parched out of a sudden. Maddies asked you why you did not finish your sentence but you could only wipe the sweat off your forehead, trying to make sense of your inner turmoil. 

Him who is usually so modest and rarely if never takes off layers in front of people... You were so unprepared but that sight! 

You both have your habits on patrol, you go to the same cafes, visit the same tea salon and always go to the same bar at the end of a shift. He always asks for a consomme while you change dishes each time. 

You notice that you spoke less and less yourself, mimicking your mentor, finding words more and more superfluous when you could just act on a matter. 

Steb baked you a cake for your birthday, without you having to remind him of the date. 

Excellent chess player, owns several books on different Chess masters that he reads religiously during breaks while also learning to play Go. He goes easy on you with other games but he will hand you your ass without any mercy with those two games. 

You learned he like to spend time in libraries and bookshops during his leaves and crossed paths with him on several occasions with his bag full of new books. 

Never took a puff of tobacco of any sort in his life and heavily avoids any smoking area. His eye twitched once when you revealed to him you tried weed once with friends in high school, but he remained silent, neither approving nor disapproving. 

Drinks alcohol only for big occasions and will limit himself to one glass only. 

Keeps his uniform immaculate, his helmet shiny and his weapons squicky clean. 

Good with cats and animals in general. Owned a bird in his childhood. 

Undisputed champion in the pool. Every once in a while someone thinks that they can outspeed him in water and is immediately proven wrong, but you get the occasion to play the cheerleader to support him each time, so you don’t complain. You handed him his towel when he got out of the pool, water trickling down his well-carved body and your eyes got lost for a second before so much skin, mouth slightly agape before such a spectacle. 

 You are Steb’s perfect assistant in mission, guessing his needs and demands in advance, handing him the correct tools without him having to ask to save your comrades’ or civilians’ lives. You move and think like a single being, creeping out Maddie. She told you you both look like possessed when you save lives together under fire like you were connected like a hivemind. You don't see her problem: you are saving lives! 

After each successful mission on the terrain, Steb pays you a drink, always wrapped in his usual mustism. You take an ale while he usually goes for iced tea or squach, making you giggle as you imagine the thought of the other patrons discovering a 6’1 ft  stern enforcer in full gear sipping sugary juice at the bar with a straw. 

But those drinks are between you and Steb only, between Mentor and Protege 

And maybe a bit more, you bust yourself hoping? 

One day Steb takes you aside in an empty room and hands you a piece of paper. Your official recommendation and aptitude certification to enter the Medic examination of the Enforcers. Signed by his hand. You look up at him with a gasp, full of hope. 

He grabs your shoulder, looking straight into your eyes. and nods with a tight smile. 

[wosohours]

not close enough - alexia putellas x reader

word count: 1854

“Alexia, I told you that I wouldn’t be able to hang out today because I needed to focus on my work,” you say in a serious tone toward the blonde standing in your doorway.

“I know that mi amor but I missed you so much. I feel like we haven’t been spending much time together because of our schedules,” Alexia gives you a cute pout as she raises two bags, “but look I brought you food and snacks and these pretty flowers you like.”

Biting back a smile you stand to the side signaling that she can come in. You knew that if you did not let her in now she would find her own way in, whether that be crawling through your window, again, or calling your mother who would convince you to let her in.

“Thank you. I appreciate it, baby,” you tell her as she speeds past you towards your kitchen.

“I just want to take care of my girl, bebé. I don’t like it when you work too much and stress yourself out,” she states while grabbing your waist to pull you into a tight hug.

“I only work so much so that I have more free time to spend with you, and also money to spoil you. You deserve to be catered to as well.”

Alexia can’t help but smile at your words as she kisses your neck. “While I really appreciate that amor, you know that just being in your company is more than enough for me.”

“I’m glad that you feel that way but I still have to work, these bills aren’t gonna pay themselves,” you tell her as you tickle the sides of her stomach, making her giggle and release you from her tight grip.

“Move in with me and I’ll pay your bills,” Alexia states. “We’ll talk about that later, but I’m not letting you pay my bills,” you roll your eyes as you open one of the food boxes she brought which was filled with some of your favorite pastries.

“We’ll see,” she shrugs, coming up behind you to take a bite of one of the pastries already in your hand.

____________________

“Thank you for breakfast, but I really need to get back to work. I have two more meetings today and then I’m all yours,” you tell your girlfriend as you pick up her plate to bring to the sink.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” she says, grabbing the dishes from your hand so she can wash them. “I’ll be fine, but if you really want to stay you can watch TV in my room or the living room,” you tell not really paying attention to her as you grab your computer and headphones.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything just text me, okay?” you tell her while blowing her a kiss from the door of your office. As you are closing the door you catch her pretending to grab the kiss from the air and place it on her heart.

____________________

Though your relationship is not even a year old Alexia can’t help but be absolutely obsessed with you. She always wants to be around you, always thinking of you, and everything she sees and does can all be traced back to you.

This feeling was so new and different to Alexia that it scared her so much that she called her mother panicking. Of course, Eli calmed her down and gave her reassurance that this was a good feeling but told her if it bothered her that much then she should talk to you about it and take it slow.

A couple of days later when Alexia sat you down and told you how she felt she was relieved to know that you felt the same way and that you were more than happy to continue the relationship at whatever pace she needed.

It turned out that Alexia did not need to go as slow as she thought. Soon after your talk she was bringing you over to meet her mother and sister and hinting at you moving in with her, but you kind of talked her out of the latter, at least for now.

You two have been nothing but in love and happy and that is all Alexia could ask for.

____________________

After about an hour of laying around your living room and tidying up things here and there, Alexia gets bored and decides to go into your room. She flops on your bed on what she has claimed ‘her side’ and lays there in silence, basking in the atmosphere of your space.

The smell of your perfume she loves so much lingers in the air making her take deep breaths. As she turns over to your side she can smell the scent of the new shampoo you are trying out in your pillow making her smile.

She looks at your nightstand to see a framed picture of you two. The same one she has at home on her nightstand. As she reaches over to grab it she notices that you have one of her captain’s armbands. Alexia laughs at the thought of you stealing it from her bag. She holds it up to take a selfie and sends it to you.

To: Mi Reina 💕

“You are a little thief.”

*sent attachment*

Alexia gets up from the bed and into your walk-in closet. She can’t help but smile at the two different spots you have cleared out, one being a drawer for her clothes, and the other being her jerseys that you have bought or ones that she has given you.

From: Mi Reina 💕

“technically I didn’t steal it. i remember being told ‘take it off of me.’🙃”

After reading your message Alexia closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a deep sigh as she remembered that intense intimate night after the Champions League Final game.

Shaking her head out of thought she sends a reply back.

To: Mi Reina 💕

“Get back to work.”

From: Mi Reina 💕

“😭sorry baby. i was just getting the facts straight.”

Alexia rolls her eyes and smiles, putting her phone in her pocket before going back to look around your closet.

She reaches up to take your favorite hoodie off the hanger and brings it up to her nose, inhaling more of your perfume. Even though she is at your house, in your room, and you are on the other side of the wall she still can’t help but feel you aren’t close enough, so she strips off her FC Barcelona Nike jacket and tugs your hoodie over her head.

Ale lays down in your bed once again, this time on your side, and when she realizes that you aren’t going to be done with work any time soon she decides to just take a nap.

____________________

After both of your meetings, you get up from your desk to stretch and check on Alexia. You walk past the kitchen and living room when you notice she isn’t there and go straight towards your room.

When you open the door you see Alexia sleeping peacefully on her stomach with her face shoved into your pillow.

“Hey baby,” you whisper quietly, as you gently rub her back coaxing her out of her nap. Her eyes flutter open and she gives you a sleepy smile. “Are you done with work?” she whispers.

“No, I am done with my meeting though and I’m taking a break. Do you want to make some lunch?” you ask her.

Alexia nods her head as she sits up and stretches, letting out a small yawn.

“I see you stole my hoodie, who’s the thief now?” you tease, making her let out a little laugh.

You grab her hand and pull her out of the room towards the kitchen where you pull out ingredients to make sandwiches.

Alexia sits at the kitchen bar where she watches you with a loving gaze. When you are done making the sandwiches you pass Alexia her plate and a water bottle.

“Are you done with work?” she asks before taking a bite. “No, I still have emails to answer but I can probably get through those quickly,” you answer.

“Can you answer them on the couch and I sit with you?” she asks.

“I could, but you might be a little distracting,” you smirk at her as you take another bite.

“I am not distracting,” she pouts, crossing her arms which makes you laugh. “You can be sometimes, but it’s not always a bad thing. I like that you always want to be around me.”

“I just love you very much. Since we met, I have always wanted to be around you,” she tells you in an almost shy tone.

You walk around the bar to turn her chair so that you can stand in between her legs. Putting your hands on her cheeks you tell her, “You’re such a lover girl. I love you so much.” She leans in and pecks your lips multiple times.

“Go sit on the couch I am going to go grab my computer and I’ll meet you there,” you tell her pulling away.

____________________

“Alexia I cannot sit in your lap and do my work,” you tell her trying to pull away.

“And why not?” she asks.

“Because I said so,” you finally get free from her and sit on the other edge of the couch where you stretch your legs out and set your computer on your lap.

“Put a match on the TV or your ‘Love is Blind’ show,” you tease her knowing that she doesn't want to admit to liking that sort of show.

“I do not like ‘Love is Blind’ Don’t tell anyone that,’ she demands like she has been caught doing something wrong.

You can’t help but let out a loud laugh at the panicked expression on her face. “Oh really? I’ve caught you watching it multiple times, and did you forget we share a Netflix account? I can see everything that you watch.”

She lets out a puff of air and you can hear her mumble a ‘whatever.’

“You literally like to tell me all the red flags you see in these people. It’s okay baby, you know I’m not one to judge,” you say, raising your hands in a ‘surrender’ position.

Lifting your computer off your lap you motion for her to come lay between her legs. Alexia immediately replaces her pout with a big smile as she moves to lay her head on your stomach. “Is this close enough for you baby?” you ask her.

“It’s okay for now, I wish I could be in your skin,” she replies.

“Um. Okay,” you whisper to yourself a little stunned.

Still needing to work you place your computer on her back like a little table.

“Let me know if it gets too hot on your back,” you tell her as you kiss her head.

Alexia nods her head as she grabs the remote to turn on the TV…to ‘Love is Blind.’

[shmpxx]

NOTHING BUT A BULLY — g.s

⛤ bully! gojo satoru x fem! reader

you’re a victim of gojo satoru and his annoying tactics, it’s hard getting away from him but probably not this time.

cw. smut. mentions of non-con(photo taking). dub-con. virginity loss. oral (f.receiving). creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. dacryphilia. breeding. public sex. overstimulation. 18+!

wc: 2k

a/n: it’s been a minute bc I’ve been picky on what i write and i got inspiration from bully!gojo fics I’ve read so I’m writing this one!

Something about you was different, in a way that gojo couldn’t stop teasing you, he could never get bored even if you wished and prayed there be a day where he grew tired of poking at you.

He purposely trips you down the hallways or acts like he doesn’t see you and intentionally shoves you with his shoulder. Makes derogatory comments about you where he makes sure you’re listening. Stealing your lunch which he probably doesn’t even eat, he just wants to make your life miserable. Slaps your books out of your hands and watch you pick them back up while he chuckles to himself, if your lucky geto would be there and help you and excuse gojo’s actions. He would also secretly takes pictures under your skirt of your panties probably jerking off to them later.

He does get a little jealous when he sees someone else talking to you, he’ll always come around throwing his arm over your shoulder or even pushing you forward.

You tried to avoid him as much as possible, when you see him you try to walk the other direction he was coming from. He always know you try to avoid him as well and sometimes he still catch you. “Trynna hide from me?” He deviously smiles.

It wasn’t that he hated you, he just loved to tease and make fun of you. He made sure of that when you were both alone in a classroom.

He had you sitting on a desk with his hand slipping past your skirt to grope your thigh and ass. He grins to himself spreading your thighs for him to get in between them as he hungrily kissed your lips. His other hand on the back of your neck preventing you from pulling away from him even though you tried, fingers tugging on his shirt for desperation of air.

There wasn’t a day where every time he saw you, he thought of kissing you and touching you indecently. Now the time has come. His sexual fantasies of you are finally coming true.

Why were you letting him do this to you? After months of bullying and torture, you were letting him do whatever he wanted and you didn’t know why.

“You don’t know how much i wanted this” He moved down to your neck, ravishing your neck not caring that even after people would see the marks on your neck only to embarrass you.

You jolt when you feel his fingers press against your clit behind the fabric of your panties.

You kept thinking to yourself, you should stop this now. You can’t have gojo satoru control you like this. Not here.

“don’t want to anymore-“ you let out.

You pull away seeing his face in a pout expression, “aw don’t be like that” He moves your panties to the side, spreading your folds apart before entering his two fingers inside and feel the stretch of your walls by the intrusion of his fingers, letting out a cry and cling onto him. Your muscles tightening around him by the weird sensation he brought you.

“Your so tight, i bet your a virgin huh? Saving yourself for me right?” He whispers into your ear whilst pumping his fingers into your hole.

His fingers curl into the right spongy spot inside you making you wail loudly, smirking to himself watching your aroused expressions.

Looking at you as you were such a inexperienced sweet thing he loves that he’s toying you like this.

he speeds his pace faster into your cunt with also his thumb rubbing circles on your clit bringing you a whole new sensation you never felt before, you feel the tears breaking through your closed shut eyes. The tingling feeling bubbling up inside you, you didn’t know what that was, afraid of it.

“No! No! Wait-” you beg with a moan, you were about to reach something. Reach something you don’t know of and you felt complete emptiness. You were confused.

His drenched fingers covered in your arousal left your hole, instead gojo hooks onto the elastic of your panties and strips them down but you stop him from doing shaking your head no.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good?” He tilts his head at you.

“I..” you didn’t know what to say, your cunt feeling in ache of touch again but realization hit you that your in a classroom doing such activities in public.

“You want me to make you feel good right?” He stills brings your panties down dangling off your one ankle.

Apart of you wanted to say no but without thinking he had you wrapped around his finger like you were entranced that you nodded yes that got him smiling from ear to ear.

“I know you feel sore don’t you? I can kiss it better” Subconsciously you leaned back onto your palms when his hands under your thighs pushed them up more for him to gain more access as you watch him dip his head between making your heart ponder at your chest.

You whimper feeling his lips giving you a gentle kiss on your clit and started off with soft kitten licks on your cunt.

His lips latching onto your clit, sucking and licking your sensitive area. The same feeling building up inside you again coming much faster than before causing you to break out a moan.

Giving him the signal to bury his tongue deep inside your walls and give you a hard suck one last time before you start feel an rippling pleasure throughout your body. You feel as if the air ultimately left your lungs and you try to catch your breath.

Gojo licking the creamy substance that came from you from his lips and your cunt, not even giving you a break to let you calm down and your clit becoming sensitive spasming uncontrollably from his tongue and your legs became like jelly. You try to buck your hips away from his mouth but you were to weak to do so. Letting out sweet sobs.

“sweet angel being so good for me” he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip leaning in to kiss you again.

Without a warning from him, you break away from his lips feeling the tip of his leaky cock rubbing between your swollen folds.

“Gojo-“ your hand on his shoulder stopping him from going any further.

“Just relax angel—if you let me, I’ll let you call me satoru” as if it were a deal for him to take away your purity.

Half of his cock disappear inside you, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as you clutch onto him for support, dipping your face into his chest and his shirt damp from your tears. It was different from his fingers, his dick was pushing aside your walls. An inch of pain engulfing you but only for a few seconds.

“Sweet thing it’s not even all the way in yet”

“Ah! Gojo! I-“ his hips slamming into you. Not giving you time to adjust his rhythm already being so rough. You can’t think other than him being so thick and how far he’s reaching deep inside you making your head spin. He was so hard too and impatient he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Please—you’re too rough” As if he would listen to you. He thrusts into you hard, skin slapping against each other, the sounds of squelching from your sobbing cunt and his cock bullying your walls you might end up in the shape of him. Your body bouncing and your breath hitching every second from his aggressive thrusts.

You wanted him to be gentler though did you want this at all? Your mind still can’t comprehend anything other than the sweet spot he hits repeatedly. You cry and whimper into his shoulder making cute noises to gojo’s ears, holding onto him as you heard him grunt and pant into your ear.

“Who knew a slut like you could be enjoying this?”

“That’s not—ah!” You couldn’t get your words out without being interrupted by each moan you kept choking out.

Gojo couldn’t get over the way you squeezed him tight every time he pushed in and out of gummy area, your hot soft walls. You were full of warmth and wetness, making his dick twitch already. Even the way you cling onto him and cry into his chest by the overwhelming pleasure was so cute.

He can even see the way you move against his hips knowing your so desperate for it and enjoying it even how many times you try to deny it he knows.

“I’m gonna cum inside okay? I want to so bad need to fill you up”

“No—don’t! ah!-h, don’t wanna-“ the familiar tingling came back again yet you felt as if you were gonna cum much harder than before. His hips hitting you faster at a brutal pace, his hand grabbing behind your lower back to pull your hips closer to his to hit deeper inside your cunt, his tip almost at your cervix you might go dumb.

“Can you imagine having kids together? wouldn’t that be nice?” Carrying a child of your bully would be the last thing you thought of.

Shaking your head no he is quickening his pace and his slams his hips on his last thrust, emptying his hot load into you as you also reached your second orgasm much harder than before, your gummy walls contracting around his girth. Your body trembles and you sob loudly tears damping his shirt at this point feeling full and warm of his cum in your tummy.

He pulled out and cum leaked from your hole dripping onto the desk. “aw your letting it all spill”

Your body goes limp and he decides to flip you on your stomach onto the desk, your ass hanging in the air though you feel as if your about to fall apart. He smiles to himself watching his cum stream from your cunt like it was his masterpiece. it was too much already but gojos hands finds your waist, you whine feeling pressure and his cum gush out, sticking his erect dick once again inside you. “I miss your pussy already and plus i want to cum inside you again and fill you up a little more, just be a good slut like you are okay?” He squeezes the plush of your ass.

“Gojo no-“

“Satoru…you earned it now and you earn a little more—hah” already thrusting inside your abused swollen cunt. It was so easy for him to slide in again and how you still feel so warm inside just how he likes it.

“Sa-toru” you moan and whine water filling your eyes and soaking your lashes. “I love it when you say my name” his voice in a raspy tone, throwing his head back, pleasure engulfing him whole. His essence oozing onto the floor.

He grabbed your thigh lifting your leg up for him to gain more access more control, you were onto your side holding onto the desk preventing yourself from slipping off. He just continues tormenting your body, reaching towards your clit and his thumb putting pressure onto it. You couldn’t do nothing but cry out, you were so overstimulated, you were weak and now his thumb adding a more electrifying sensation and you were about to achieve your third orgasm.

You would consider this torture, it was too good to handle at all once. Your head spinning, your out a breath only to make small noises.

“I’ll try to make this quick, just for you sweetheart” he continues his frantic thrusts, rubbing your clit in rough circles, your eyes roll back in too much ecstasy you were basically drowning in. He loved watching you all fucked out, his cock plunging you every second.

He finishes up and cums into you one last time, fire pooling low into your abdomen. Another warm load filling you up making you fuller, Gojo thinks to himself that this would not be the last time he will have you.

You thought gojo would change a bit towards you, that was a lie. The next day your shoes are missing and you can hear him laugh from the hallway down. You hate yourself for liking someone like him now but you can’t help it, you know he is just using you as his little toy and also messing with you at the same time. From your missing shoes to him freeing his cock and pressing it against your lips on your knees.

[merbear25]

Hey!! How is your day going? I have a request, could you do Katakuri, Crocodile, and Mihawk with a Fem S/O with a breeding kink :)

Hello! My day has been fabulous now that I was able to write such a great request. I don’t know what happened but these came out much longer than anticipated. I hope you like what I’ve written for you and wish you a wonderful day/night. 💜💜

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship

Their s/o having a breeding kink (Katakuri, Crocodile, Mihawk)

Katakuri: He was very much questioning why you would want to risk bringing a child into his family. With such uncertainty of what could come, the potential dangers that came with being tied to his mother made him hesitant to bring a child into that. 

Oh but how he adored you; there were times he caught himself lost in thought—an image of you holding his child with such affection, looking at them with nothing but fondness was painted in his imagination. Listening to you share the vision of the family you saw with him unearthed something that had remained dormant for many years: a loving family of his own.

Despite his reluctance to make such fantasies a reality, your sweet pleas and gentle touches only continued to bring such a suppressed want further into the light. You were far too perfect for this world—too perfect for him. And yet, he found himself entertaining this idea more and more often.

It wasn’t as simple as you made it out to be, but perhaps you were already aware of that. He wasn’t one to throw caution to the wind and willingly surrender himself to wicked whims. If there was a chance that he’d impregnate you, there needed to be a plan set in place. At least that way, he would be able to fill you as much as either of you wanted.

As you curled up closer to him in bed, he instinctively wrapped you up in his arms. The mutual yearning to feel both physically and emotionally connected never subsided, and in fact was heightened when you laid together—your warm bodies finding solace in each other. The temptation to have such an innocent display of affection turn into something more was an option which was never off of the table.

When the two of you were alone, the rest of the world was of no importance. Such moments with you deserved to be cherished: savoring the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you whimpered when he gripped the fat on your hips, and the soft huffs you made as he caressed you. 

You would look exquisite with a round belly; the thought crept up on him. But despite how sudden such a thought was, his fingers kneaded your soft skin and lingered on the fattier parts. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining how perfect your body was to carry a child—his child.

He slipped his hand between your thighs, teasing you as his long fingers glided against your clit. 

Leaning in closely, his voice was barely above a whisper, “You want to have a baby with me?” A question that bore part of his worries that you’d change your mind.

The vulnerability he had couldn’t be missed. “I’d love nothing more.” You let your heart guide you in that moment, allowing the sincerity in your words to console any doubts.

His lips twitched for a moment, hinting at how deeply your words touched him. Swiftly, he leaned in to capture your lips all while sliding his fingers into you. Even after the many times you gave yourself to him, preparation was always a necessity.

Your slick arousal coated his fingers, which made you appear even more delectable—ripe for his seed.

“Come here,” he breathed, pulling you into a better position.

Aligning his tip with your entrance, he eased his way in to give your body time to adjust. With your walls accommodating his size, spasming from his girth stretching you, they were eager to have him coat them. 

“Just like that,” you mused as he picked up the pace. Your hands gripped at his arms tightly to brace yourself for the increasing collision.

Raw emotions entwining with lustful urges created a symphony of shared euphoria. Your soft, sweet moans transforming into feral grunts were making it difficult not to let go right there and then. However, that need to watch the ecstasy washing over your trembling form kept him from entirely losing control.

“Want a baby?”

“Yes!”

“Want me to cum in you again and again till I knock you up?”

“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” You cried as his thrusts became more ruthless.

Witnessing that euphoric peak wrecking you, your climax covering his cock: it was more than he could bear. With a final thrust, he released deep within your womb—beads of it spilling out of you from the intense brunt.

Holding you there for a moment longer, the both of you basked in the afterglow of your shared passion. With the high subsiding, your tenderness peaked through again.

“You’re going to make such a great father.”

He cuddled you closer and cradled you in his arms, his touch never straying from affectionate. He pressed his lips to the top of your head and lazily stroked your side with his thumb.

“Our child deserves nothing less.”

Crocodile: He’d never put much thought into having a family. That didn’t mean that he was ruling it out entirely but given his line of work, it was far from the ideal environment to raise children. In spite of this, he couldn’t deny the fantasies of you filled to the brim with his cum. If that led to a pregnancy, then so be it.

Being one to hold back on diving head first into fantasies and choosing to weigh the pros and cons of any and every situation, he still had needs. He still had wants, and if there was going to be anyone suited to bear his children, it was you.

Coming to him in your vulnerable state and opening up to him about these fantasies you had only piqued his own. He mulled over how prepared the both of you would be to potentially bring a child into the relationship and decided that whatever happened would be taken care of.

You were, afterall, the one he cherished above all others. Giving into you sweet desires of starting a family with him would be an adventure he wasn’t opposed to.

With the hours he worked, however, it put a pin in the whole thing. He didn’t like it any more than you did, but there wasn’t any chance that he’d cut corners or take extra time off—your escapades would just need to be put on hold for the time being.

Being cooped up in his office all day, the moon holding high in the sky was the only indication for him that perhaps he’d been too absorbed in business. When the door creaked open, he assumed it was one of his employees. 

“It’s too late to bother me with anything trivial, you know,” he warned.

When you slipped past the mahogany door, he leaned back and smirked at your attire: a form fitted nightgown with silk fabric that complimented each and every curve which graced your body.

Leaving the doorway, you slowly made your way over to him. Your tired expression was feigned as you asked when he was planning to join you in bed.

Moving back from his desk, he patted his lap. While you made yourself comfortable, he placed his hand on your inner thigh..

 “Are you really so needy that you can’t go to bed without me?” he teased.

You let out a deep sigh, playing with the buttons on his vest. “I can’t help it if I sleep better when you’re lying next to me.”

You were such a little minx, weren’t you? Well, if you were so desperate for his attention, he was more than happy to give it to you.

His heart was pounding as he pressed his lips against yours. When you parted yours slightly, he greedily swirled his tongue against yours, which earned him a lust soaked moan.

You parted your legs, allowing him easier access to which he gladly took advantage of. The cool gold of his rings trailing up your thigh sent shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched when his fingers found their way to your folds.

He growled into your kiss. “Not even wearing panties? Such a naughty little thing.” 

His teeth grazed your neck, causing your breaths to shake. Having made you wait for as long as he had, your poor needs not being met, he shoved a finger into your weeping pussy and pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit—rubbing it relentlessly.

As you quaked and panted on his lap, his gaze grew darker. With the soft hue of the fireplace and the moonlight peaking through the window, them highlighting your features made him hungrier for you.

The rush of his fingers making you squirm when there were papers of questionable deeds scattered on his desk only made you wilder with lust.

You pawed at his dress-pants, unbuttoning them so you could feel how much he wanted you. After just a few strokes he commanded you to sit on it, which you gladly obeyed.

The girth of his full erection made you cry out. The sudden twinges as your body adjusted caused your back to arch, taking him more easily. With your movements steady and slow, a firm slap on your ass was your incentive to pick up the pace.

Your bounces plunged him deeper and deeper into you, leaving you a trembling mess. Each gasp you made, each plea for him to cum in you and give you the family you so desperately wanted was like music to his ears. 

“Don’t worry, dear,” his tone husky from his own release building. “You’ll have your baby. I’ll make sure of it.”

He gripped your hip and took control, thrusting into you with abandon. You collapsed on him, clinging to him for dear life as the sounds of his cock slapping against your wet cunt echoed in the room. When coupled with your sobs of ecstasy, both of your climaxes were just within reach.

With his final thrust sending you over the edge, his own release followed suit. As he pumped each drop into you, the soft gasps passing your lips never failed to add to your allure.

“Now, then,” he said breathlessly. “Will you please go off to bed, so I can finish up here?”

With a firm kiss planted on your temple, you knew you wouldn’t have to wait long for him to join you for the night.

Mihawk: He had entertained the thought of having a child and raising a family before but due to his reputation, it wasn’t exactly a safe environment for them to grow up in. Having a family would mean making them a larger target for enemies, as well—something that he wouldn’t want to burden them with much less himself.

However, when you and him were relaxing under the shade one warm summer’s day, you thought it was the perfect moment to share your wants to start a family with him. Hearing you explain it the way you did, watching your features growing darker to create a faint pull of seduction was eye-opening. 

Coming to the realization that you saw this as a kink was, quite frankly, off-putting. Yet, you assured him that you truly did want to have a child with him. Holding his hand in yours, the sincerity wrapping your words was enough to convince him—plus, the image of your little one pitter pattering down the hall was one he wanted to make a reality.

He did his best to set time aside for you, but it wasn’t always something he could promise. With your schedules keeping the both of you in dry spells, some improvisation became more and more appealing to him. 

When you were wiping down the counters in the kitchen, the way your hair framed your face and the concentrated expression you were wearing made you that much more beautiful. Seeing you were starting to move on to the dishes, he took you by the hand and pulled you into an embrace.

“Why don’t you let me take care of those later?”

His suave delivery got you nodding slowly. As he swayed you back and forth, brushing your hips together, there was no denying the spark that had been ignited.

With the pools of desire deepening in your eyes, he brought your hand to his lips. Maintaining eye contact as he traced your delicate fingers with light kisses, he kept track of each subtlety that graced your perfect face.

Lacing his fingers with yours, his other hand cupped the small of your back. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You look absolutely ravishing today, my love.”

His hand traveled lower down your back, taking a handful of your backside while pulling you into a searing kiss. As the kiss deepened, your control was quick to wane. With such adoration being passed to each other through parted lips and bated breath, the temptation to take you was all too inviting not to succumb to.

Never breaking your kiss, both of his hands slid up your dress. His fingers gripped the soft skin you kept hidden under the cotton fabric. Slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties, his hands roamed under your underwear’s surface. Each graze across your ass pulled you deeper into your desires, his teasing touch making your core ache for more.

Pulling away from the kiss, he kept his gaze on yours. As he reached around, pressing you firmly against him, the trembling of your legs was the response he’d been craving.

“It would seem I kept you waiting for too long,” he whispered while soaking his fingers in your throbbing pussy. “My apologies, love.”

As you shook and quaked on his fingers, he lathered your sensitive neck with nips and kisses. 

“Dracule,” you breathed. “Make me a mom…wanna have your baby so badly.” Your love-soaked sobs of devotion struck straight through to his core. 

He placed one more fiery kiss before promptly bending you over the island counter. You eagerly tugged your dress up, presenting the arousal pooling in the fabric.

Wanting to soak in devine display, he planted his hands on your cheeks, gripping them tightly, kneading and shaking them. With one swift motion, he ripped your underwear down to your knees. A trail of your wetness snapped up from it, causing him to revel at the state you were in.

Gripping his cock, he teased your opening to further hear your sweet whimpers before plunging between your sopping lips. Your body readily accepted him, already desperate for more. 

His movements started off steady and deliberate with a clear aim in mind. As he picked up the pace, the sensation of you gripping around him was proving to be a test of his self-control.

“You’re going to make such a beautiful mother.” His words wrapped around you, leaving you breathless.

The harder he slammed into you, the more the chilled countertops adapted to your shared warmth—an offer of a temporary haven to conceive the child you both so desperately wanted.

Your whimpers grew into groans dripping with euphoria, echoing throughout the castle’s kitchen. Clawing at the surface, digging your fingers into it: you could feel yourself teetering on the edge. You gasped and cursed as he hit that sweet spot at just the right moment.

Feeling you clamp around him, pulsating from the velocity of your sudden undoing shattered any remainder of control he thought he still had.

Spilling every ounce of himself into you, the image of the family you were both trying for lingered in your minds. His hands caressed your shaky form, providing a balm for the high you’d just shared.

You eased yourself off of the now warmed counter and pulled him into a kiss which spoke to your unwavering devotion to him.

“Let’s not leave such a long gap next time,” you cupped his face, and he was inclined to agree with you.

[starlazergazer]

Separated

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: You could do a story where the reader and Anakin had something, but the order tried everything to separate them, and so Anakin wasn't there when she ended up dying. That will be the trigger for him to start doubting the order, and hating them, but it turns out that a reader from another universe, who is exactly the same as his, just shows up.

Warning: Angst! Almost character death, lots of swearing tbh my bad

Word Count: 7k

A/N: Changed the request just a bit hope that’s okay but obsessed with the overall premise! I’m thinking she needs a part 2 but let me know what y’all think!

There was something uniquely terrifying about a silent Anakin Skywalker.

Everyone knew the jedi had a temper, it wasn’t something he was necessarily subtle about, there were few who had been at one time or another on the other end of it, you included.

But Anakin’s temper always exposed itself in the same way. Yelling, pacing, ranting. There were a number of times you had sat down before him waiting for him to get his lecture out of the way, letting him explode like a volcano before being able to actually have a constructive conversation with him.

You honestly couldn’t think of the last time you had seen him as he was now. Quiet, still, contemplative.

Admittedly there was a part of you that wanted to poke the bear, to say something that you knew would make him explode, force him back into charted territory so you knew how to deal with the fallout.

“I just don’t see the big deal”

Still nothing, a harsh glare boring down on you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched so harshly you could see the muscle through his skin, not a word.

“You do stuff like that all the time”

Just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he took measured, deep breaths.

You were returning home a hero, the entire hanger had cheered for you the moment you touched down, a hoard of people circling you with congratulatory hugs the second your foot touched solid ground, and still somehow Anakin had the power to make you feel like you’d failed.

This was supposed to be your moment and still somehow Anakin controlled the temperature in the room.

“I told you to turn back”

You’d stopped expecting him to speak, so thrown off by the sudden change you physically jumped at the sound of his voice, at how unexpectedly quiet it was.

“That was the wrong call and you know it”

Anakin took a deep breath at your response, his gaze cutting suddenly to the left, a moment passing as he collected himself before responding, that act alone almost making you faulter.

“If it was the wrong call I wouldn’t have made it. I told you to turn back”

“And you aren’t my reporting officer”

“This isn’t a game Y/N!”

The sudden explosion from the man would have surprised you if you hadn’t been unconsciously waiting for it, coiled like a spring waiting for Anakin to snap, waiting for him to yell, a weird weight lifting off your chest as you returned to normalcy.

“I know this isn’t a game do you?” You shot back quickly, just as loudly “He had coordinates, locations of nearly every battalion in the galaxy, information like that isn’t simply a pawn you can choose to trade away”

“Neither are you”

The response came too quickly, too quietly, too seriously for you to fully comprehend the words as he said them, your body physically recoiling at the sudden drop in temperature.

“I was fine”

“You were within firing range” he argued back, his hands coming down to rest on his hips as he glared at you “an entire separatist fleet was on the other side of that moon waiting for him to drag whatever republic ships he could towards them so they could shoot it down and you fell right into that trap”

“I didn’t have a choice”

“You had multiple” he shut you down without ever raising his voice, a single glare enough to silence you “listening to me for one of them”

“And if you had been in my shoes” you prompted “if you had been close enough to chase him would you have simply let him get away?”

“I would have-“ you scoffed before he could get the words out, seeing exactly where he was going before he got there.

“don’t lie to me Anakin Skywalker you treat risking your life as if it were a paying job”

You watched his jaw tick at your response, his words dying on his lips before he changed routs “I told you to turn back”

You let a humorless laugh bubble out of you, a frustrated hand raking across your face as you shook your head “I can’t believe you’re being so blatantly hypocritical right now”

“It’s different” his words came out so quick he seemed almost surprised to hear them himself.

“How?” you demanded more than asked, silently daring him to give you a legitimate answer you weren’t sure he could supply.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off before he could finish, a huff escaping before he took a deep breath and continued “I need you to listen to me. When I tell you what to do I need you to listen to me”

“Even if-“

“yes” he cut you off before you could get your question off “whatever context, whatever quantifiers I don’t care. Out there I need you to listen to me”

Again his tone was throwing you for a loop. Gone was the anger, the frustration, the ire. Now he seemed to be almost begging, pleading with you to listen to him, to agree, to promise something like today wouldn’t happen again.

But you had made the right call. That was what was sticking with you. You know what you did was risky, hell you could get behind even calling it a little reckless, but objectively it was the right call. You were talking about locations of every troop of clones in the republic in the hands of the separatist’s how could he not see that this was worth anything, that taking down this spy was worth everything.

“Ani what-“

“There you two are” a new voice interrupted you, the sudden appearance of Obi-wan pulling you back to the present moment, reminding you that you and Anakin were in the jedi temple, that you had just come back from a mission, that you still had duties to uphold.

“Master Kenobi” you quickly greeted the man with a small bow, watching the man you had practically grown up under break out into a proud grin as he clapped you on the shoulder.

“That was a great shot Y/N” he praised you shaking you softly “you saved the Republic today I hope you know that”

And though you could feel your chest warm with the praise you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge because of it, not missing Anakin’s small scoff at Obi-wan’s words.

Anakin was your best friend, a man you grew up beside as a padawan, a man you had been practice dueling since you could hold a saber, and you had just pulled off a major victory for the Republic. Was it really too much to ask that your friend take just a second to be proud of you.

“Thank you master” you responded warmly nonetheless nodding at him “believe me when I say it wasn’t easy”

The older man laughed warmly at your words, dropping his hand from your shoulder as he did “that I don’t doubt but believe me when I say we are all glad your maneuver paid off, what you pulled was risky”

You shot a guilty glance at Anakin only to see the man casting his gaze at the floor, arms snaked back around his chest physically distancing himself from the two of you in this moment.

“Anyways what I came here to say is that the council is looking for the two of you” Obi-wan continued on, either choosing to ignore or missing the tension hanging in the air between you and Anakin “you need to debrief before you’re free for the evening.”

“Of course master” you answered for the two of you “we will be right there”

Obi-wan gave you an appreciative nod before taking his leave, casting a questioning glance at his former padawan before exiting the room, casting you and Anakin in a thick silence you were tentative to break.

“Ani-“ you tried but he cut you off.

“Look we’ll talk later” he muttered over his shoulder, already making his way out of the room “we shouldn’t keep them waiting”

-

You could never feel comfortable in the jedi council room, something you were sure was done by design as you and Anakin were forced into the middle of the room, made the literal center of attention.

Even as you knew you were here to receive praise for your actions you couldn’t help but shrink beneath Mace Windu’s gaze.

“-you exemplified what it means to be a jedi knight perfectly today jedi Y/L/N” Master Windu droned on, his voice thankfully lacking the usual edge it had when addressing you with Anakin in the room “we thank you for your actions today”

“I was just doing my job” you responded humbly as you were expected to with a respectful nod “but I am glad to have been of help”

“Of great help you were” Master Kloon chimed in pulling your attention to him as he spoke “the republic owes you a great debt today”

You smiled politely at Mater Kloon, gaze again being drawn across the room as Master Fisto picked up where Kloon left off, a part of you wondering if they did this on purpose to disorient you “we do however have one question regarding this situation. Jedi Skywalker you tried to order Jedi Y/L/N back”

“I did” Anakin’s response was quick with an edge to his voice that had you mentally sighing, you weren’t eager to witness Anakin go up against the council today. “The spy’s ship had reached firing range of the rest of the battalion anyone who followed him was likely to be shot before they could reach”

“Called her back before she reached firing range you did” Master Yoda spoke this time, eyes planted solely on Anakin as he spoke

“She was far back from the spy’s ship, by the time she reached him they would both be within firing range” Anakin countered through gritted teeth, you watched him ball his fists at his sides from the corner of your eye.

“That ultimately however proved not to be the case as she was able to take down the spy without any harm coming to her own fighter” Mace Windu spoke carefully, clearly organizing a path down which he planned to steer this conversation.

A tense silence passed for a moment, a staring contest passing between the Jedi master and the general before Anakin spoke “a miscalculation on my part then”

“It’s a good thing she ignored your miscalculation then” Master Windu offered dryly “we do however have access to the flight com logs. Would you like to explain jedi Skywalker why you ordered jedi Y/L/N not once but five times to turn back”

“Her pursuing as she did was a risk I wasn’t willing to make at the time master”

“Even when aware of the information that ship contained” Master Windu prompted with a raised brow “every troop location of the Republics army. Are you saying you weren’t wiling to risk the life of one jedi for the fate of this war Jedi Skywalker?”

“I don’t trade in lives Master” Anakin challenged back quickly.

“One life versus the lives of billions across the galaxy the math should be easy Jedi”

“we’re here to be Jedi knights not martyrs”

“And it is your duty as jedi knights to do whatever it takes to protect the republic as Jedi Y/L/N did”

“And if she had failed? If the inevitable had happened and she was fired upon the second she came within distance? What good would a dead Jedi knight have done anyone” Anakin was seething at this point, the familiar white hot anger you had expected to be directed at you earlier finally making its appearance.

“We can stop pretending this is about just any Jedi Knight” Mace Windu’s words had Anakin physically recoiling, effectively throwing him off course having the two of you furrowing your brows “there is a reason the jedi code forbids attachments”

“Master we haven’t formed an attachment” you took this as your chance to chime in, keeping your voice light trying to dispel any lingering tension in the air.

Master Windu’s eyes took a second too long to break from Anakin’s to meet yours, a knowing silence permeating the air as if he meant to let your comment hang in it “what happened today, any possibility of letting that spy go, cannot happen again”

You furrowed your brow at his vague response, eyes snapping back to master Yoda as he spoke up.

“not a punishment this is” he chimed in softly, looking directly at you as he did so “remember that you must”

Your eyes snapped back to Master Windu “master what are you saying?”

Mace Windu’s eyes bounced back and forth between you and Anakin for a moment before landing on the latter, another small silence stretching before he spoke “Jedi Skywalker and Y/L/N going forward are forbidden from going on missions together”

A stunned silence fell over you and Anakin, your eyes casting immediately to him only to see his disbelieving gaze locked on Mace Windu “Master you can’t-“ gone was all edge in Anakin’s tone, an almost pleading one taking its place as he tried to talk.

“The council’s decision on this is final” Master Windu cut Anakin off with a single raised hand.

“but-“

“You are dismissed jedi” The doors to the council room opened behind you before Anakin could get out any more than a word. Master Windu leaving no room for either of you to plead your case.

Numbly you left the room with Anakin in tow, your brain still struggling to wrap itself around what had just occurred as you entered the hallway and stopped against the wall, Anakin not missing a beat as he started to pace back and forth in front of you.

“You have to tell me where you’re going next I’ll see if I can at least be close” he was already talking a mile a minute, almost mumbling as if talking to himself rather than you.

“I can’t even remember the last mission I did without you” you mused quietly.

“Under no circumstances can you go alone either take Obi-wan or I’ll give you Rex”

“I can’t believe the council thinks we need to be separated”

“And call me every day even if it’s just to check in”

“Ani you know I can handle myself right” Your sudden direct address of him brought Anakin’s attention back to you, his pacing halting as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“After today?” He laughed bitterly in response.

“I came back today” you countered defensively, at this point beyond tired of this same argument “not a scratch on my ship I am alive and well”

“And you almost weren’t” finally Anakin exploded on you, vein popping in his neck as he yelled, a frustrated hand tangling itself in his hair as his pacing picked up once again “you got lucky. That’s it. What you did was dangerous, it was stupid, it was risky, and it only paid off because you got lucky and I feel like I’m going insane because how can no one see that? You are only here right now because you got lucky and there is no guarantee on that a second time”

“Or I’m a good pilot” you shot back angrily “I’m a good pilot and a good jedi who trusted her instincts and accomplished the goal. Is it really that hard for you to trust in my ability?”

Anakin physically deflated at your words, the full meaning of his own hitting him for the first time as he crumpled slightly “Y/N I didn’t mean-”

“No that’s just what you said” you cut him off “I get it you think I can’t handle myself and shouldn’t be trusted. I’m not sure why you’d want to be sent out on missions with me anyways”

“Y/N please” Anakin begged softly but you had had enough, cutting him off with a shake of your head and a sigh.

“No Ani I’m done with whatever is happening right now. It’s been a long day and I’m just-“ You cut yourself off with a deep sigh, taking a second to take a deep breath before turning on your heel leaving Anakin behind as you made your way back to your room, calling softly over your shoulder “I’m done”

-

You knew who was behind your door before he had even knocked. Could feel him lurking behind it. Afterall who else would be at your room this late at night.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, Anakin just showing up at your room. Sometimes it was to apologize, sometimes it was because he had a nightmare, sometimes it was because he could sense yours. It didn’t matter really because he knew no matter what he was always welcome here, you made sure of that.

It was why he wasn’t surprised when you opened the door before he could officially make himself known. The two of you looking silently at one another before Anakin wordlessly engulfed you in a hug.

You went willingly, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around you, not even bothering to exit the doorway as the two of you stood there and took a second to appreciate the feeling of being supported by the other person.

“You scared me today” the words were mumbled into your hair.

“It was a risk I had to take” you responded softly into his chest, his arms tightening around you at your words.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off, readjusting slightly to tuck your head under his chin before he spoke again “I don’t like it when you do that”

“And you think I like it when you do” you responded with a laugh, pulling back slightly to look up at him, Anakin reluctantly letting his grasp of you go as you did so.

“I know I just-“ he sighed “I’m sorry Y/N”

“I know Ani”

Finally a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, a moment passing where neither of you said a thing simply enjoying the moment in each others presence before Anakin broke it “I mean it when I say I trust you just please, promise me you’ll be careful”

You smiled softly up at your friend, extending a pinky out to him “I promise Ani”

He smiled and hooked his pinky with yours, neither of you able in this moment to recognizing your lie for what it was.

-

He almost hadn’t answered.

That was the thought that ruminated in his head for weeks after.

You had called, it wasn’t your normal time to talk, and Anakin had almost ignored it, almost told himself he would call you back later.

Thank the maker he was never good at ignoring you.

Your face came up immediately on his hollow display, picture posed strategically to only show your shoulders and above. And even though a smile graced your lips the second he picked up Anakin could still feel it the moment he saw you. Like a punch to the gut, it suddenly hit him that something was wrong. Something was catastrophically wrong. How had he not sensed it earlier?

“Where are you?”

You had just chuckled weakly in response and any other time Anakin lived for that sound but not now, right now he needed you to answer “there’s nothing getting past you is there Ani”

“You were sent to the outer rim right” Anakin steam rolled ahead, grabbing his cloak already intending to hijack the next available ship. He didn’t care if Mace Windu himself was scheduled to be on it.

“That was two missions ago”

Your words halted him in place, Anakin freezing on the spot as he glared back at you, “Y/N”

“Anakin” Maker how could you tease him like this now? You were always stubborn and he loved that about you but right now was not the time to play with his emotions, not with all this at stake.

“I’ll go ask Obi-wan” he was talking more to himself than you at this point, mind whirling with every possible path forward.

He heard you sigh from the communicator but didn’t pay it too much mind, you could yell at him for it later, he would give anything to hear you yell at him later.

“It’s a direct shot to my abdomen” You sucked in a deep breath, gaze dropping to your torso with a grimace, looking at something Anakin couldn’t see “losing blood like this there’s no way you make it in time”

“You don’t know that” he was arguing back before he could properly process your words, his brain refusing to even allow for that possibility.

“I do Ani” you shot him a sad smile, bleeding out, in who knows where and still you were comforting him.

“No there’s got to be someone nearby, another jedi, a local, someone who can help” He was shaking his head, brain desperately clinging to any solution it could.

“I didn’t call you so you could try and solve my problems”

“So why did you call me then?” He knew he wasn’t mad at you, he knew you would know that to, but still he cringed at the way it slipped out, at the way you shoulders slumped slightly at his words.

“Do I ever need a reason to talk to you?”

And he realized then this was you asking for the only help he could give. He was planets away with no ability to reach you and you were asking not to be alone at the end. And even though it killed him he could never say no to you.

“Of course you don’t Y/N”

You smiled at that. A real smile, no undercurrent of pain or pity. Anakin found himself trying desperately to commit to the sight to memory.

“Remember when the council separated us because they thought we had formed an attachment?” You asked softly, head resting back against the wall behind you, your entire body rising and falling with each labored breath.

“Right now it’s hard to forget” he bit down the resentment, it wasn’t what you deserved.

Still you chuckled at him, wincing slightly as you did so “I think right now I have to admit they were onto something”

“I thought that was obvious when I tried to put the entire republic army at risk so that you would be safe”

A teasing roll of your eyes, a fond chuckle “shut up stupid I’m trying to have a moment here”

“I’m sorry please go ahead with your moment” a part of him resented how easy the banter came now, how easy it always came with you, it wasn’t fair.

“You’re my person Anakin” you practically whispered the words, Anakin’s heart swelling painfully in his chest at them “At the end of the day I will always choose you and for the first time I’m not going to condemn myself for thinking it”

“You picked a hell of a time for that revelation sweetheart” the pet name came naturally, he nearly choked on it as it fell from his lips.

You laughed in response, shifting positions with a grunt “Master Kloon did always tell me I needed to work on my timing”

Anakin chimed in before a silence could fully settle over the two of you, “Though I’m sure it’s obvious I will always choose you too Y/N” he took a small amount of pride in the soft smile that grew on your lips at his words.

“So what do you say after the war we leave the order?” You propositioned with a cheesy grin “You and me Skywalker”

It hurt how easily the answer came to him “where would we go?”

“I’ve always liked Naboo” How quickly your answer came made him wonder if like him this wasn’t the first time you had considered this exact scenario.

“I could get a job working on speeders” He proposed with a sad smile.

“I think I’d work at a cantina” you mused back “always thought it would be fun to get to meet people from all over the galaxy”

“It would be a good life” he could feel the truth of those words in his very bones.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, both lost in thoughts of what if, before you broke it “Thank you Ani”

“Don’t thank me” he protested weakly “not for this”

“Then for everything else”

Another short silence, a quiet plea slipping unbidden from Anakin “please don’t” he knew where you were going next.

“I have to” you answered softly, solemnly “I think it’s time to say goodbye”

“You don’t have to hang up” he protested “not yet”

“I don’t want you to see me like that” And again he was never one to refuse you anything, a final request he couldn’t say no to. “I love you Ani”

Maker how could hearing those words somehow hurt worse than not hearing them ever did.

“I love you Y/N”

A single tear slipped down your cheek and then you were gone. The newfound silence of the room suffocating him as the emptiness in his chest leached out to fill the space in the room around him.

-

The republic has fallen.

The jedi are no more.

The empire reigns in its place.

Anakin Skywalker is dead.

There was a lot you were told upon waking up from your medically induced coma that was hard to believe. A lot of news that was broken to you that was difficult to swallow. The fact that your entire life fell apart in the mere two weeks you were in a bacta tank was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be able to come to terms with.

Being with the rebellion helped, to know that despite everything there was still a group of people out there who were willing to put everything on the line for what was right. To a certain extent it felt like being home. It helped you learn to come to terms with those four impossible facts.

So now how were you supposed to deal with learning that one of those facts was actually a lie.

You had seen the trepidation on their faces when you walked into the room, the way the entire groups focus was on you the second you stepped in, it almost felt like being back before the council, you would’ve laughed if they hadn’t seemed so somber.

Now you understand why.

As soon as the words left Mon Mothma’s mouth you felt the ground buckle beneath your feet, felt the world around you start to drown out, felt your legs threaten to give out from beneath you.

You would’ve given anything to hear those words just weeks ago, would’ve wept at the thought of being where you were now, but to hear them so shortly after you had tried to heal the wound was nothing but another devastating blow.

“You told me he was dead”

The group shared nervous looks and your every doubt about the rebellion came rushing to the surface. They were no different than the council at it’s worst, wiling to do anything to separate the two of you, willing to lie to make sure you stayed under their thumb, willing to keep things from you because they believed they knew better. Why did it always feel like you were working for the wrong side?

“We believed he was”

“Bullshit” the word slipped from your lips before your gaze could even meet the speaker’s, anger flaring from your chest at the words “a fact like that, as large of that, there had to be rumors, you had to have guessed”

“We didn’t want to get your hopes up”

A bitter laugh rose to the surface, hands coming to your hair in exasperation “I was told the very republic I gave my life for had fallen, that the very group I was fighting against are now in control, and everyone I had ever known dead at the very hands of the people I had sworn to lead and you didn’t think I could’ve used a little hope?”

“We thought-“

“That wasn’t your decision to make” you countered before they could finish, eyes daring the group to say something “maker how can you not see that it was this very hubris that led to the fall of the jedi? Of the republic? Just because you think you know better-“

“He goes by Darth Vader” a new voice jumped in, your eyes snapping to the holo-projection of Bail Organa, the senator’s eyes giving nothing away but pity.

“no-“ the protest fizzled on your lips, barely enough breath behind it to properly get it out.

“The source is solid” it was Mon Mothma again, eyes practically begging you to listen. “Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader”

And for a second your brain couldn’t comprehend it, wouldn’t comprehend it. How were you supposed to reconcile these two opposite people as one? “No that doesn’t make any sense”

“I’m sorry Y/N”

“No” you protested loudly, as if yelling could get it to not be true, could get them to admit they were lying, this this was all some sick joke “Someone is wrong, someone is lying to you-“

“The information is good” another voice interrupted but you were too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even identify who it was.

“No the Anakin Skywalker I knew wouldn’t-“

“The Anakin Skywalker you knew died the day that you did” Senator Organa cut through all the noise in your head, his voice loud but not unkind as he drew your attention, the entire world seeming to fall deathly silent after those words.

“What does that mean” your voice was quiet, broken, you didn’t have it in you to care.

“It was an open secret” he explained softly, the senator façade breaking just slightly “the day you were reported to have died Anakin fought with the Jedi council, fought with Obi-wan, no one could get him to calm down, to think rationally. Eventually he made his way to Palpatine��s office, he hasn’t been seen since”

“We all knew of his distaste for the council before this” Mon Mothma chimed in “he blamed them for your death, drove him right into the arms of the current emperor”

Your mind had slowed, had calmed noticeably but still you found yourself dancing around the issue rather than actually dealing with it, your thoughts instead deciding suddenly to stick to something else.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You watched them all carefully, noticing the nervous glances they sent towards one another rather than answer “I wasn’t lying when I said you were just like the former council, preferring to sit on information until it could properly serve your purpose so what’s the purpose this time?”

Again Mon Mothma took the lead, hesitantly speaking up “he’s formed a group with the sole purpose of hunting down and killing any remaining jedi. It’s quite frankly only a matter of time before he finds you”

You furrowed your brow at this “so you’re warning me? Telling me I need to leave the base?” you shook your head slightly, not liking how either of those answers fit before it finally clicked “you want me to stop him”

“We want you to talk to him” Senator Organa corrected you “if there’s anyone who can get through to that man it’s you”

You eyed each of them skeptically, knowing as you were sure they did as well, that this question only truly had one answer “I’ve been told twice in this conversation alone that Anakin Skwalker is dead.” You took a deep breath, bracing yourself on the back of a chair “for all of our sakes I hope that’s not true”

-

Realistically you knew it was true the minute your ship touched down. Even if you weren’t conscious of it at the time you could feel that all too familiar force signature coming from the planet, seeping into your very bones.

To know it logically was an entirely different story.

You stayed hidden, following from alleyways and rooftops, you couldn’t make out the man beneath the costume but everything about him was just wrong. His gait was wrong, the way he held himself was wrong, the red saber at his hip was wrong, there was no possible way the man beneath the mask was that familiar jedi. And yet…

You couldn’t face him. You knew that. Even if it was Anakin under there you weren’t ready to find out, weren’t sure which answer would be more devastating to you.

So even though it meant failure you put your hood on and slunk away, leaving behind Darth Vader whoever he was, ready to tell the rebellion they would have to come up with another way.

You got little more than a flutter of a cape in warning before he descended upon you.

The black figure whipped around the corner faster than your brain could comprehend, having time to do little more than simply freeze in place before you were lifted off the ground by a force you were all too familiar with, invisible fingers tightening around your neck as you were lifted.

“You’ve been following-“ you got little of the figures voice through the mask before he suddenly cut himself off, the pressure on your neck easing just enough to allow you to gasp for breath, the world stilling around you as you looked out from under your hood at what was supposedly Anakin Skywalker.

The world stood at a standstill for a moment, you hovering inches above the ground, toes desperately seeking purchase, Darth Vader silently staring at you, hand held before him almost trembling. You were working yourself up to croaking out a question when his other hand raised suddenly and with a flick of his wrist your hood went flying back.

The second the light hit your eyes the force on your neck disappeared and you crumbled to the ground below in a heap.

Precious few seconds were given for you to gulp down breath before you were hauled back up by your neck again, this time an actual hand secured firmly around it as you were all but thrown against the wall, your head smacking against the brick painfully.

“who are you” even through the voice modulation you could hear the way he seethed beneath the helmet, ire barely contained by the black material.

“Y/N” you croaked weakly, clawing half-heartedly at the hand around your neck that held you in place.

His fingers tightened in response before he pulled you back and slammed your head once again against the wall, a soft groan escaping you at the impact “now is not the time for games now who are you”

“I’m telling the truth” you practically begged, unable to feel any shame in it as the edges of your vision started to black from lack of air.

“That’s impossible-“ you couldn’t really bring yourself to listen to the rest of the sentence, the only thing running through your mind was a grim acceptance that this was how you would die. Supposedly at the hands of the man you had once loved.

“Ani please”

And you hadn’t meant for the plea to escape you, barely even registered that the nickname passed through your lips. All you could focus on was the fact that after they came out into the open you had finally been released.

Again you crashed to the ground, hands splayed out to catch yourself before you could faceplant, lungs burning as you greedily gulped down air.

“Why would you-“ The words died in his throat and a strange, bitter part of you wanted to laugh.

Once you finally had better control of your breathing you sat back on your heels and looked up at the man clad in black before you, squinting slightly at the sun over his shoulder. “It’s true then”

He didn’t respond, simply looked down at you.

“take off your helmet”

“who do you think you are-“ again the urge to laugh surfaced, the way he reached for anger so readily was so similar to the man you once knew, how could you not have seen it earlier.

“Take off the helmet” He physically recoiled at the command. You softened your voice in response, practically pleading with him "I need to see your face"

Again the man before you went rigid, a tense few seconds passing in silence before he hesitantly reached up and pulled off the helmet.

The man standing before you looked somehow older than you remembered but unmistakably him, and every thought about your mission flew out the window the second his eyes made contact with your own. Your brain rejected the similarities outright, because despite being told Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one in the same you still couldn’t handle this physical evidence linking the two.

You reacted without thinking, taking a single step forward and planting your hands on his chest, roughly shoving him backwards, Anakin allowing himself to be moved without a second thought “Maker Ani what the fuck were you thinking”

His helmet slipped from his grasp absentmindedly, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest where your hands had just been as he just stared at you, eyes swirling with too many emotions for you to pin down at the moment.

“Palpetine are you serious?” You demanded more than asked, hurling the implication at him with reckless abandon “I always told you I didn’t trust him and still you-“

“You weren’t there” he cut you off and his voice was so soft, so broken it startled you into silence, your body physically recoiling back a step as he spoke “You weren’t there, and he was all I had”

“You had Obi-wan, you had Rex, you had people who cared about you Ani”

“They weren’t you” his answer back came steadfast and resolutely, leaving no room for argument, followed by a much quieter, more broken statement “they took you from me”

“No one but that weapons dealer took me from you.”

“They did” neither of you felt the need to define the ‘they’ to which you both referred “If they hadn’t kept me from going with you I could’ve-“

“You don’t know that” you cut him off, this argument feeling much to familiar “Even if you had been there we don’t know-“

“If I had been there then you wouldn’t have-“ and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, the natural end to it evidence that this was an argument he has already had with himself too many times before.

“I didn’t” you begged him to listen to you, “I’m okay. Ani I’m right here”

Your words seemed to shock him out of his own personal bubble, his eyes darting frantically around him before he seized you by the wrist suddenly, surprising you, as he started to pull you further down the alley “you need to go Y/N”

“What” the question left you on an exhale, his sudden change in attitude giving you whiplash as he tried to pull you behind him.

“You can’t be here you need to-“ he whispered quickly, frantically, almost as if the words weren’t for you.

You pulled back on your arm forcing him to stop “Ani I’m not leaving you”

He furrowed his brow at your declaration, a hand on your shoulder trying to nudge you forward still “Y/N do you know what the empire will do to you if-“

“I don’t care” you declared back, halting his movements once again, using his grip on your arm to pull his attention back down to you “I already lost you once, don’t make me do it again”

His eyes bounced desperately back and forth between yours as he set his jaw, you could practically see a million different arguments running through his head.

“Halt” a new voice broke through the tense silence, Anakin’s gaze flickering to its source above your head. You barely had time to gaze over your shoulder at the trio of clone troopers that had approached, guns drawn, before Anakin had sent the lead one flying rapidly into the wall with a flick of his wrist.

You tried desperately to hide your flinch at the noise of his armer hitting the building.

The other two froze on the spot, blasters still pointed at you, but Anakin ignored them both, hand still held aloft as he stared down at you debating his next steps for a precious few moments before he spoke.

You could see him physically morph as he addressed the clone troopers, could see him become that other man, that Darth, in the way he squared his shoulders and straightened his back, the way his voice dropped an octave, the way his grip on your wrist grew almost painful as his gaze bore down into yours

“this one is force sensitive, she comes with me”

[liveontelevision]

Quick Fix | Alastor X Reader

My first smut! This was harder than i expected 🥲 let me know what y'all think <3

Preview:

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just empty.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

•••

You became close with Alastor after appearing in the hotel just weeks before the battle on extermination day. After constantly complaining about being bored, the demon was finally sick of it. He let you sit in during his broadcasts, have morning tea with him, and eventually become a part of his daily routine. You were less whiney when preoccupied, Alastor told you, as a way to cover his enjoyment of having you nearby wherever he went. You became closer after time due to your constant questioning. He told you small things, like the type of jazz he enjoyed, specific whiskeys he liked while alive, and his plans for upcoming broadcasts.

He was too stubborn to admit this was anything beyond wanting occasional company. And you were too dense to really notice his soft blushes that would creep across his cheeks whenever you gave him a quick hug, or how he would lay his hand overtop yours when your arms were linked, or the occasional sweet smiles that he'd adorn while looking at you.

Putting the obvious feelings aside, you became incredibly concerned hearing that Alastor volunteered to take care of Adam during the upcoming war. You did what you could during the battle, mainly shielding yourself from oncoming attacks and leading exterminators to those who were equipped to land the final strike. Occasionally, you'd notice some small black and white stitched dolls running around and taking out exterminators that you didn't notice. One's that would've surely killed you. All you could do was shelter yourself from the slaughter after the shield cracked around the hotel. You didn't get a chance to even process everything until the battle had finally ended.

No one had seen Alastor for days while renovating the hotel, only appearing once the grand opening arrived. He was chipper and devious, like usual, acting completely normal (or however normal looks on a radio demon) around everyone. He would attempt to tease you, but you were quick to dismiss him, or turn your back, or simply walk away.

When chasing around Niffty one night, after she managed to steal your jacket with the smallest stain, you turn a corner and smack right into Alastor's chest. You hold in your gasp, straining your neck to look the demon in the eyes.

"Alastor! S-sorry, see, Niffty took my jacket and i think she went that way, so i starting running and-" your quick words were immediately silenced once you saw him hunch over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee, the other gripping tightly onto his chest.

"Alastor, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me! Al, please..!" You hovered around him, noticing a small stain of blood form on his suit. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears, assuming that wound was your fault. He lifted his head to see your sorry state and quickly stood straight. He acted as if he wasnt just hunched over in pain, "Come my dear, i assure you this has nothing to do with you. No need to worry your little head." He spoke sweetly, patting your head, as if the blood stain wasnt slowly spreading across his suit.

It didn't take long for you to question and pester him into letting you follow him to his room. Just for tea, he clarified. He routinely hung up his coat as he entered his room, taking a heavy seat in his chair. You refused to say anything in that moment. You had nothing to say to him. He needed to explain himself to you. You held your cup in your hands, watching him casually drink his tea, simply ignoring the large stain across his shirt. He finally let out a sigh, wanting to end this awkward silence.

"I seemed to have taken some damage during my battle with Adam. I was quick to make the right decision, and left the battle." He shrugged off the statement as if it were no big deal. "And clearly it was the proper response, I would hate to get in the way of Lucifer's battle." He hissed out the king's name, scowling at the thought of him finishing Adam off himself.

He widened his eyes in your direction, hearing the shatter of procelain. Your hands were shaking to the point that your cup fell off your lap. The sudden sound made Alastor's ears fall back for just a moment.

"Are you... fucking kidding me??" You shouted at him, standing up and huffing your arms across your chest.

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just annoyed.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

You felt a hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, pulling you to attention.

"Watch what you say, dear. You'd be a fool to question my strength, again." He spoke in a low frequency, making your heart thump. You quickly snapped away your wrist, looking at him with an unphased expression.

"Then show me. I want to see what he did." This was the first time you spoke so strictly towards him. It shocked him a bit. He groaned and sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a poorly stitched together wound that trailed from his hip to his shoulder. You tensed your entire body, feeling and looking as small as possible. Of course, you weren't the best of friends, but it still tugged at your heart strings that he wouldn't tell you about this. And as much as you hated to admit it, seeing his bare chest did make you flush.

His head fell into his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, turning his eyes away from your direction. He didn't turn back to you until he heard a small hic. Your eyes welled with tears again, and trying to hold your breath wasn't working." I-I.. i'm so sorry, Alastor, i didn't know you got hurt. I was just.. I was worried... about you." You sniffled in between your words, wiping your eyes. You suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head, Alastor pulls you in, letting your head rest against his chest. Your heart raced, worried that you'd be hurting him more and simply embarrassed to be this close to him. You looked up to meet his eyed, his smile was geniune and sweet, again. A sight you haven't seen in days.

"It's healing fine, darling, our little collision earlier simply pulled the stiches a tad, not to worry." He placed a quick kiss to your head, something you were hardly expecting.

"Was it.. scary?" You asked softly, dewy eyes still looking at him, as he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe a falling tear. He held his breath at your question. There was an obvious response. He ruined his microphone, was humilated by a frat boy (Adam) and nearly died. But he would die all over again before admitting his fear.

"Not at all! I've taken much harder hits, i told you, you have nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, repeating himself to imply an end to the questioning. You looked down at his wound, audibly wincing. Reaching your hand out, you lightly brushed your fingers against the barely scabbed slash. He was quick to flinch backwards at the sudden touch, but kept still after that. He told himself it was to help ease your nerves, but he was denying the fact that your cool hand seemed to ease his pain. You perked up, looking back to him, with a determined look on your face.

" I can sew! I do it all the time! It.. It wont be medical grade - not even close-  but youre falling apart here." You needed to help him somehow. Alastor was conflicted again, nervous at the idea of a more intimate touch, but.. still wanting it. Especially from you. He lets out a hum, and nods. Your eyes brightened immediately, making him smirk a bit more. "Okay! All i need is my little sewing kit, i think i left it in my room, let me get it-" you turned towards the door, suddenly becoming disoriented at the sigh of your own bedroom. You turned back to Alastor, who had sauntered over to your bed and plopped himself down on the side." O-Oh, sure.. this works." You let out a nervous chuckle, gathering some items before sitting next to him on your bed. As you got situated, Alastor laid his back against the bed, hands holding his head. He hummed a soft tune, trying to relax himself as much as he could in this situation. The scent of your room, your body so close to him right where you sleep. Where you would -

He chokes on nothing, before letting his gaze rest on the cieling.

"O-Okay, i know it's gonna hurt, so.. tell me if it's too much, i guess.." You try to warn him, slowly beginning to pull out the thick, coarse, thread that he had clearly used on himself. You cringe at the thought of him stiching up his own fresh wounds, but once you thread your needle, you focused quickly. You were very steady. One hand was placed on his hip, the other looping the bright green thread - the only color you had - through toughened skin. You tried not to get distracted but the numerous smaller scars that led across his entirety. Or by the raising of his chest as he breathed. The moment was so calm, Alastor clearly enjoying this sort of treatment.

"You're doing okay? Need a break? I'm just about halfway there-"

"Darling, what did i say about questioning my strength? If you ask agai-" you suddenly hit a specific spot that must have been especially tender.

"Yeah yeah, i know you can handle it, just making sure. And sit still!" You quickly dismissed his threat.

After a quiet few minutes, you gently tugged the thread, closing the wound as tight as it could be. The silence was calm, neither of you feeling the need to make senseless small talk. You finally sit up with your hands on your hips.

"Done!" You speak triumphantly, appreciating your handy work. Alastor took a moment to sit up. He hadn't fallen asleep exactly, but he sure wasn't entirely awake. He looks down and runs his clawed hands across the threaded wound, surprised by how clean it looked. You immediately noticed that he was surprised by the quality of your stitching, making you scoff and give him a teasing push." I told you i could help! It looks good, just thank me already." You scolded, rolling his eyes at his patronizing actions.

Alastor chuckles delightfully, leaning his body closer to yours.

"Thank you, dear." He spoke in a low tone, almost too close to your face. You attempted to turn your head away, but he was quick to take a hold of your chin and bring your eyes back on him.

" Is that what you want to hear? Hm? Or.. did you want me to repay you some other way?" He was clearly teasing, loving the absolute nervous wreck you were becoming.

"Yes, please." You squeeked out. The look in his eyes was confused, not exactly expecting you to give in so easily. Usually, you were so stubborn when he would treat you this way, but not seeing him for days on end drove you to nod in response to his question immediately.

"Hm. Well, since you worked so skillfully, i suppose you deserve a reward." He pulled you in, his breath heating the skin right by your ear." - And because you asked so nicely~" he murmured, making your face instantly hot. You took a hold of his face and quickly pulled your lips together, giving him no time to tease you any more than he already had. He swallowed whatever he was about to say and gave in to the kiss. He scooched closer, pulling you towards him by your waist at the same time. He pulled away from your lips to enjoy the breathless, flushed look on your face. The demon let out a low chuckle before taking your waist again and pushing your back to the bed, following along with the movement.

He found himself looming over your body, his hands on either side of your head.

"I'll be gentle, cher, not to worry." He spoke sweetly, quick to trace his hand under your shirt. He traced his claws up the center of your stomach and up to your chest, your top being pulled up along with his movement. It revealed a lovely dark red bralette with little structure and thin material, leaving very little to the imagination. He looked over you like he was ready to pounce. Alastor leaned down, locking your lips to his again. You parted your own lips, moving your tongue into his mouth. He flinched in surprise but did his best to conceal it. Your arms wrapped around his neck, running your hands through his hair, as you arched your back towards his body, longing to be closer. He shifted his position, since you had so rudely pulled him down by his neck, to sit atop your hips. The sudden sensation made you yelp into the kiss. Alastor forcefully pulled himself away and sat up to enjoy the desperate look on your face.

"My, my~ eager aren't we?" He teases, running his thumb across his wet lips.

"But you've done enough for me, my dear. Please, just enjoy the show." He had a devilish smile, pulling your bottoms and panties off you while he spoke. You clenched your fists onto the sheets, tensing from sheer anticipation. He moved off the bed and took a hold of your hips, gently palming them before quickly yanking your body to the edge of the bed. You yelped and sat up. "Alastor, be careful! I don't know if you should- i-if you should..." you covered your mouth, not finishing your sentence but desperate to not let out any noises, as he pulled your thighs apart, sitting in between them. He ran his lips across the softness of your inner thighs, leaving occasional bruises on the way towards your center.

He tantalizingly ran his tongue across your folds, somehow already soaked after the past few moments. He lapped up some of your juices, before flicking his tongue across your clit, circling the area immediately. The sharp sensitivity made you jolt, attempting to grab his hair, but accidentally grabbing onto one of his ears. He yelped, flinching at the sensation, but immediately flushing after. You couldn't help but giggle, hearing this powerful demon yelp.

He wasn't happy about being laughed at. He gave you no warning, before jutting two of his fingers into your enterance. You gasp, arching your back into his touch, hand still held tightly on to a combination of his hair and the side of his ear. He would never admit how much that fueled him. He curled his fingers slightly, but not entirely. And began to pump his fingers, but not as fast as you'd like. He knew what he was doing.

"Alastor..! Ahh-" you moaned out his name, grinding against his fingers. Powered by the sound of his name on your trembling lips, he pumped his fingers faster, placing his tongue back against your clit. The sensation when those two actions hit you, made you moan out even louder, your body squirming against his face. He took a hold of your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, to reach an even deeper spot inside of you. "H-Hold on, that's too much..! Al-Alastor i'm gonna cum, you h-have to stop..!" You quickly warn him, giving his hair another yank. He simply ignored any warnings you cried out, letting the feeling build until you lost control. You arched your back, your body convulsing as he continued to overstimulate your cunt. Your eyes watered, trying to squirm away from his grasp, but he wasn't done with you. He held onto your legs, refusing to let you get away for minutes.

"S-Stop! I can't.. mm- it's too much- Al p-please.." you start to beg, the orgasm becoming a slight pain in your stomach. He pulled away quickly, not giving you the satisfaction of letting you ride out your pleasure, which only made your breathing hitch. He went back in for a moment, running his tongue entirely across your folds, cleaning up the juices that were pooling on the blanket beneath you.

He pulled you back onto the bed, letting you catch your breath. He rested his head on his hand, humming satisified at your almost pained reaction.

"Well well.. was that too much to handle? Do you not have the strength to endure anything else?" He teased, faking a coddling voice. He swung his legs back over you, straddling you once again.

"I told you darling, even in my weakened state, you underestimate my strength." He gloated, wickedly smiling down at you. His pride let him go on like this for a moment, before you took the collar of his unbottoned shirt and yanked him to face you. You went on and pressed a heavy kiss onto his lips, immediately pushing your tongue back into his mouth, feeling the dampness that you caused on his chin. You went on like this to the point of him melting into your grasp, letting out small noises into your mouth. Once you were satsified, you pulled him back. Looking at him with sweet doe eyes.

"Alastor? Love?"

you pulled him closer, never giving him a chance to reply, lips pressed against the side of his head.

"Ruin me~" you let out in a silky voice. You released his collar letting him jolt up at the sudden boldness, looking into your eyes that had a lust he never expected to see.

He cleared his throat then shook the surprised look off his face.

"If you insist, Love.."

He tried to play off his growing excitment, but the way he hurriedly took off his trousers, immediately leaving his throbbing cock against your opening, was a clear indicator that you said all the right things. He barely gave you a chance to prepare, before thrusting his hips until he was completely inside of you. Even trying to play off the intimidating and strong act, you could still tell he knocked the wind out of himself. He was quick to begin moving, starting slow to let your discomfort melt away, then setting a hasty rhythm after. His claws dug until your hips, just enough to draw a trail of blood that ran down your thigh. The sight of it drove Alastor even crazier.

He began to lose his strength as he started to reach his orgasm. He fell forward, immediately biting into the flesh of your neck to anchor himself. You let out a stiffled yell, the combination of pain and overstimulated pleasure driving your body to cum almost instantly. You hold onto his back, nails scratching his skin. You could feel him shiver in response. He only went on harder trying to achieve his own high, which was quick to follow yours. He held your hips flush to his as he came inside of you, then after holding that position for a moment, he thrusted his hips into your already full entrance. You let out a pathetic whimper as he sat up, looking down and appreciating the mess of bruises and bites he managed to leave on your soft bust. He licked his lips, taking in a bit of the blood that seeped from those very wounds.

Alastor almost immediately stood up, coming back composed as ever. He delicately cleaned you up, before laying back down onto your bed, next to your still heaving body.

"Asshole, give me a second.." you managed to mumble at him, wiping tears from your eyes. You finally get a chance to look at him, seeing his devious smile. "Okay! Fine! I get it, youre still as strong as ever, get over it!" You yelled, knowing thats what he wanted to hear.

"Of course I am, cher! But.. i'll be more careful from now on, so you won't constantly pester me about my wounds." He spat out, clearly meaning to reassure you, even though he sounded pained to give in to you like that. You smile and give him a quick kiss before your eyes trail back down to his chest, half the fresh stitches ripped open. You roll your eyes before getting up to grab your needle and thread again.

"Oh my! I suppose you'll have to fix me up again! Be more thorough this time, dear. i'll have to thank you for this repair, as well."

[jlle-marie]

content: levi ackerman x fem!reader, mirror sex, mdni!! (1.7k)

Today was one of those rare times when you woke up before Levi, who was still fast asleep beside you. To be honest, you weren’t used to waking up first, let alone having to wait alone.

He was sleeping peacefully, his features relaxed, and his little black locks messy. After spending a long time watching him, you started to feel bored lying in bed. Carefully, you untangled your body from his and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom to run a bath in the meantime.

The bathtub was filling slowly, the water trickling in softly. You undressed at the same leisurely pace, until all your clothes were off. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you looked at your reflection, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning.

Levi was awake in no time, noticing your side of the bed was empty as the sound of water coming from the bathroom reached his ears.

Still gazing at your body, you hear footsteps approaching followed by the familiar voice of your lover.

“Love, you’re already awake? Can I come in?” His voice is low and husky with sleep.

He doesn’t need to be told twice when you tell him to come in. You see him enter the bathroom, shirtless and still disheveled from sleep. His eyes widen slightly in surprise when he finds you standing completely bare in front of the sink mirror. 

Levi watches you with a sleepy grin. “Well, good morning to you too.”

You laugh softly. “Good morning. I thought you’d still be asleep. For once you were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to disturb you…”

He looks absolutely handsome. His sculpted body enhanced by the warm morning light streaming through the bathroom window is enough to stir a longing in you.

His gaze travels over your curves, taking in every inch of your bare skin. Levi was in awe every time he saw you, there would never be a time where he thought you weren’t anything less than perfect. And he can already feel his body starting to heat up.

Levi steps up behind you and presses himself against your back. “You look distractingly beautiful,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

He looks at your reflection in the mirror and leans his face forward to nuzzle your neck, kissing the sensitive skin while his hands roam over your body.

You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck. “And what if I was planning a solo bath time, hm?” You murmur, teasing him.

He lets out a low chuckle. “Well, I'm afraid you'll have to share this time. Can't let a beautiful woman like you have all the fun to herself.”

His hands slide up to cup your breasts and his thumbs grazes over your hardening nipples, eliciting a whimper from your lips.

He smiles and leans his face forward to whisper in your ear. “It’s not every day I wake up to find my girl naked in the bathroom first thing in the morning.” His eyes are fixed on where his hands are playing, with a hungry gaze.

“It feels so good Levi,” you moan as he keeps toying with your breasts. Looking forward, your gaze flickers between the satisfied expression on his face and his strong arms around you.

Hearing you moan drives him wild, he immediately brings a hand between your inner thighs to find your wet heat. 

Levi finishes guiding you until you’re against the counter, just inches away from the mirror. He begins to stroke you in a slow and torturously amazing pace, enjoying seeing your face in the mirror and chasing his own needs.

Soft moans escape your lip as he rubs your clit, circling it. You move against his fingers, and arch your back, encouraging him to keep going.

When Levi sees your face in the mirror getting more and more filled with lust he starts to feel impatient, aching to be inside you. “You’re ready for me, love?” He asks as he presses two fingers at your entrance. Feeling them entering with incredible ease he grunts. “Oh fuck, yes you are.”

Levi withdraws his fingers from you, making you whimper at the loss. Pulling back from you, he slides his underwear down and tosses it aside.

You were so focused on your pleasure that you forgot about the bathtub you’d been filling before he joined you. When you catch Levi’s reflection in the mirror, undressing, you also notice in the background that the water level is dangerously close to overflowing.

“Levi, the water!” You gasp.

He immediately understands and turns off the tub faucet just in time.

Coming back behind you, a low, amused rumble escapes him, his chest vibrating softly against your back as he chuckles at the situation. His hard length now springs free behind you. 

“Now where were we, love?” His voice drops into a more intimate register as he nuzzles and kisses your neck.

Your breath hitch as you feel him, hardened against your backside. You grind against him, drawing a low moan from both you and him.

Levi grabs his cock and slowly slides it between your thighs. He rubs the tip up and down your soaked folds, nudging against your entrance each time. You stand on tiptoe to try and get it in.

He chuckles in your neck at your demeanor and lifts up his head. His eyes meet yours in the mirror as he slowly enters you, his other hand holding your hip. “Is this what you need, my greedy girl?” He teases, his voice strained.

“Yes…” you exhale as you feel him pushing inside you, inch by inch. You brace your hands on the counter and your gaze locks with his, the heated intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch.

Levi groans and closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of being deeply enveloped by your warmth. He grips your hips, holding you steady as he fills you completely.

“It’s so deep…” you moan, feeling each of his thrusts stretch you a little more, your hands clutch the edges of the counter for support.

He sets up a gentle pace as he admires your reflection. Pulling out almost completely then thrusting back in with slow and deliberate movements. “So beautiful, so.. fucking.. beautiful,” he punctuates his words with deeper thrusts.

Levi’s eyes are locked onto yours in the mirror as he looks over your blissful expression, hearing your sounds only make him more aroused. “I never get tired of this,” he murmurs, his hot breath washing over your shoulder.

His lips are right against your ear so you could hear every sound he’s making, ragged breaths and sometimes low, tiny whimpers as he rolls his hips against you.

He moves one hand and gently turns your chin so you’re looking at yourself. “Don’t look at me, look at you my love. Look how pretty that body is, how lucky I am,” he pants in your neck, sucking on the skin there.

Then he lets his fingers trail down your chin and across your collarbone until they’re between your breasts, while he continues to make sure he’s leaving some marks on your neck.

Feeling a wave of embarrassment at the state you’re in, your gaze falters. Slowly, you drag your eyes away from him, tracing down to your trembling body before reluctantly meeting your own face.

“Good girl,” he breathes out when you look at your reflection. “Hand on the mirror, love... brace yourself,” Levi orders, his voice thick with need.

Without hesitation, you place a hand on the mirror, the motion causing you to lean slightly closer to it. Your flushed face and glossy eyes stare back at you. But your inhibitions fly out the window as the pleasure spikes.

As you obey, Levi starts to pick up the pace, thrusting into you harder. You feel him hit a special spot deep inside you, causing your eyes to roll back and your mouth to fall open with a silent cry.

He grunts, watching your lips fall open only makes him want to taste them even more but he also really wants to keep looking at your pleasured expression. “Keep looking, watch us…” his voice muffled against the skin of your neck.

The slapping noises that fill the room mingle with your soft moans and heavy breathing. You feel your knees start to buckle and your eyes struggle to stay open. You are losing control and Levi notices it. He wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up as your knees tremble. “I've got you, love…” 

Levi couldn’t stop himself from moaning at how hot he thinks your expression looks in the mirror, how much you are a mess for him. 

The sounds become wetter as Levi’s movements take on a sloppy pace. He leans forward to place open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and cheek as he hit a particular spot repeatedly. Your orgasm crashes over you first, your tight walls convulse around him as you cry out Levi’s name. Your head throws back against his shoulder, your voice echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Oh fuck I’m—” He trails off, seeing you ride out your orgasm through the mirror triggers his own release. With a strained grunt he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his release. He holds you in place as you both ride out your orgasm.

He holds you close, his heart pounding in his chest, he stays buried inside you a moment, savoring the warmth of your body and the feeling of being satisfied.

Eventually, Levi pulls out slowly and spins you around to face him. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you slowly, as if it’s something he’s been longing to do all morning. “I love you.. I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

Breaking the kiss, he leaves you breathless before pressing his forehead softly against yours. “I’m sorry my love, your bath might be a little cold now…” he says, but his smug expression shows no regret.

You laugh softly. “Yes, I'm very upset with you, Levi…” you whisper, cupping his face as you kiss him again. Pulling back, you meet his gaze with a soft expression.

“Upset, hmm?” He grins, backing your giggling body toward the waiting bathtub. His voice is low and teasing as he adds, “Come and show me how angry you are… in the bath."

[concreteangel92]

Be Careful What You Wish For

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: Cum play, mentions of spanking, dom/sub relationship, slight humiliation kink and degradation kink (not too heavy) male masturbation, just Noah being a typical brat tamer

So this is kinda filthy even for me ahaha but it’s not massively detailed as it’s a head canon styled piece but I am working on proper detailed works as we speak so hopefully I will get those out soon.

This actually started as an idea from the other fic I’m writing but it didn’t fit into that scene properly so I decided to make it a separate piece so the thought wasn’t wasted haha and fyi the story I’m currently writing has definitely been inspired by the new tour content, that’s absolutely feeding me right now 🥵

Masterlist

•You’ve been playing up all day and winding Noah up in front of people when he’s been working

•Just genuinely being a brat because you found it funny that day

•That’s fine but Noah would 100% punish you for it when you’re alone

•You’d be face down on the counter, underwear round your ankles while counting each spank he delivers

•But what’s one more dig?

•”That the best punishment you got? I’m getting bored of it now”

•Those spanks would instantly stop

•”Is that so?”

•Oh yeah, he’s pissed now

•You’d feel Noah’s grip on your hip tighten and hear the sounds of his trousers hitting the ground

•”Spread your legs”

•Noah would have a deeper growl in his voice, clearly not impressed with your attitude, but that’s ok, he’s happy to take it up a notch just teach you a lesson

•You’d feel his fingers scissor you open with a dark chuckle “bored are we? Do you want to tell that to your dripping cunt”

•That would most definitely pull a low moan from you, now Noah loves dirty talk, but to be that vulgar is very rare, even for him

•You could feel movement behind you and hear the sounds of him groaning and skin slapping on skin

•”So my punishments aren’t good enough eh?…” You could hear his words get caught in his throat, you knew he was touching himself behind you, his other hand now not leaving your hip

•”Well lucky for you…shit….I’ve got the perfect punishment for your cocky little attitude”

•You’d keep your head on the counter, pussy aching to be touched but you know that’s not going to happen any time soon

•“Did I forget to mention….that the guys will be here…any….any minute for the afternoon?”

•Noah hadn’t mentioned that they were all coming round for a gaming afternoon, you suddenly felt a sense of fear at what he had planned

•Noah’s groans became louder as he sped up his pace, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer

•”fuck..I’m gonna cum”

•You’d feel him release onto your heated core, Noah would quickly bring your underwear back up and press the material into your folds, making sure not to let any of his juices slip out down your thighs

•You’re eyes would go wide, a choked moan escaping your lips as you now knew what his punishment was, it felt so wrong and dirty but fuck me were you turned on

•You’d hear Noah fix his clothes and then he’d grab you by your throat, bringing your back onto his chest so he could talk into your ear

•”let’s see how cocky you are walking round with my cum in your pants, and don’t think you can run away and hide baby. You’re going to sit with us until I say otherwise, is that clear?”

•”I’m in a dress, what if it…slips out?”

•You’d receive a hard smack to your ass and then Noah turned you around so he could stare down at you

•”You should have thought about that before you decided to be a brat and telling me that my punishments are boring”

•Noah grips your chin and gives you a hard kiss

•”Be careful what you wish for baby”

•That’s the moment you’d both hear keys in the door and the guys walking in with pizza boxes, Noah pulling your dress back into place and stepping away from you

•You’d do your best to walk normally and act all innocent when everyone started chatting, trying to sit without anything ‘leaking’

•Your cheeks would have a permanent blush for the afternoon

•All the while, that cocky smirk never left Noah’s lips as he stalked your every move

[theonottsbxtch]

HEAR ME OUT 🙂 charles x pianist!reader where he’s like writing/composing a new ep and his producer is like “omg you should totally do a duet with (reader) 🥰” and uh yeah just anything related to that

i can already envision a scene where charles spends most of his time in the dark alone in the studio with his piano but reader is ofc there…

go for any trope you want 🙈

MY MUSE | CL16

an: im sorry this is so long istart writing and then i can't stop. btw i want everyone to know that i was listening to that's not me by skepta and jme while writing this. completely different vibes. SEND MORE REQUESTS IM BORED HOUSESITTING FOR THREE WEEKS

wc: 7.8k

dedicated to @iamred-iamyellow & @iimplicitt

The studio was thick with the scent of aged leather and dust, the faint glow of a single, dimmed lamp casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. Charles sat hunched over the grand piano, its black lacquer surface reflecting the soft light in fractured shards. His fingers hovered above the ivory keys, trembling with a kind of frustrated anticipation, but no sound came. The room seemed to echo with a deafening silence, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall—an incessant reminder of time slipping away.

He had been here for days, isolated from the outside world during the off season. The once-comforting walls, lined with shelves of dog-eared books and musical scores, now felt like the confines of a cage. His last piece had been a masterpiece—a soaring composition that had flowed from him like water, effortless and pure. It was the kind of music that haunted you long after it ended, the kind that etched itself into the soul of anyone who heard it. But now, the notes eluded him.

Charles ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair and let out a low sigh. There was a pressure building in his chest, like a wound slowly tightening, pulling him apart. For the past week, he had been locked in this room, trying to capture the essence of something even greater than the last, but all he had managed to conjure was noise—fragments of half-formed melodies that crumbled before they could take shape.

He  stood abruptly, the sudden movement causing the papers on top of his piano to rustle, brittle with neglect. The room was stifling; the air was thick with the remnants of burnt-out candles and sleepless nights. He paced to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal the darkened Maranello streets below, slick with the remnants of a recent rain. The city outside moved on, indifferent to his struggle, its distant hum a reminder that time had no patience for his creative paralysis.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, his breath fogging it up in shallow bursts. What was missing? What had he lost in the months since his last piece? It felt like chasing shadows, reaching for something just out of grasp. Every melody he tried to shape slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, and the harder he tried to hold onto it, the faster it dissolved.

The clock struck three in the morning, the chime echoing through the stillness of the room. Another night wasted. Another night consumed by the weight of his own expectations. He turned back to the piano, his eyes heavy with fatigue but burning with a quiet, desperate need. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without something to show for the hours he’d lost.

With a sigh that felt like surrender, Charles sat back down at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys once more. He could feel the cold beneath his skin, the way the silence seemed to press in around him. His hands shook, not with nervousness, but with exhaustion.

And then, in the quiet, a single note broke the silence.

It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t the haunting, ethereal sound he had been searching for. But it was something.

His gaze fell to the pile of sheet music he had scribbled on throughout the night. Inked lines of failed ideas, crossed out again and again. With a final resigned sigh, he stood up, the bench scraping the floor, the sound too loud in the empty space. He began to gather his things, shoving crumpled papers into his bag alongside notebooks, headphones, and his laptop. The familiar weight of them didn’t bring comfort; instead, they felt like reminders of the failure he was starting to carry with him. This was meant to be a hobby but it was haunting his every move.

As he turned to leave, keys jangling in his hand, a soft sound reached his ears—a distant, faint melody. He paused, his hand hovering over the light switch, ears straining to catch it. It was coming from down the hallway, barely perceptible at first, but unmistakable—a piano, its notes drifting through the quiet night like a whisper.

Charles hesitated for a moment, then slipped into the hallway, drawn toward the sound. He moved slowly, the dark corridor seeming endless, the music growing clearer with every step. It was beautiful—achingly so. Each note was delicate yet certain, as though whoever was playing knew exactly what they wanted to say. The melody swirled and climbed, creating something ethereal, something that made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks.

He stopped outside one of the smaller practice rooms, the door slightly ajar, a soft glow of light spilling from within. The music filled the narrow hallway, surrounding him, pulling him in. He stood there for a long moment, his heart beating a little faster, a strange mix of awe and envy twisting inside him. This was what he had been trying to create—the same kind of raw emotion, the beauty that lingered long after the sound faded.

But it wasn’t his.

Charles leaned against the wall, just out of sight, listening as the music flowed through the cracks in the door. The player inside didn’t falter, didn’t stop to wrestle with the notes. It was effortless, pure. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare interrupt, afraid the spell would be broken if the other person realised they had an audience.

The melody soared, and for a brief moment, Charles closed his eyes, letting himself be swept up in it. It reminded him of why he had started this in the first place—of the nights when music had been his refuge, when it had felt like an escape, not a burden. He could feel the heaviness in his chest easing, just slightly, as the music wound its way through the silence.

But as beautiful as it was, it also stung. Whoever was playing had found what he had been searching for all this time—something he had lost.

The music came to a soft, gentle end, the final notes lingering in the air like a breath held too long. Charles stood there for a moment longer, still leaning against the doorframe, waiting for something—he didn’t know what.

When the quiet finally settled again, he stepped away from the door, not daring to break the fragile stillness with the creak of the floorboards. He glanced back one last time, his fingers curling tight around the strap of his bag. For a moment, he considered knocking, stepping inside to see the person who had played with such grace. But something held him back.

Instead, he turned and walked down the hallway, the echo of that haunting melody still playing in his head long after the door to the studio clicked shut behind him.

His following morning came in fragments—a bleary haze of sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, the distant hum of traffic muffled by the walls of his apartment. Charles stirred, his body sluggish and heavy with the weight of too little sleep. He lay there for a long moment, eyes closed, trying to hold onto the remnants of the dream he couldn’t quite remember. But it wasn’t a dream that lingered in his mind.

It was the melody.

That same haunting, angelic piano from last night, curling through his thoughts like a whisper. He could still hear it—those delicate notes weaving together, the way the melody had seemed so effortless, so perfect. It had been circling his mind from the moment he left the studio. Now, it played softly in the background of his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

Charles groaned, rolling out of bed and dragging himself into the shower. The hot water did little to shake the fatigue that clung to him, nor did it drown out the persistent tune echoing in his head. His mind kept returning to the small, dimly lit room where the mystery pianist had been, to the way her fingers had danced across the keys as though they had always belonged there.

He towel-dried his hair, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror. Dark circles under his eyes, a face hollowed by days of restless nights and creative frustration. He had some sort of media training today—something important. A meeting he couldn’t afford to drift through half-awake. But even as he dressed, pulling on his usual team shirt and straightening the collar, his thoughts were elsewhere.

The city outside was awake, the streets buzzing with life as he made his way through the crisp morning air to the Ferrari HQ. His coffee sat untouched in his hand, the steam rising in lazy spirals, but he barely noticed. The melody from last night played on an endless loop in his head, the memory of it clinging to him like a ghost he couldn’t shake.

The office was a blur of familiar faces, bright smiles, and too much energy for this early in the day. Charles moved through it all, barely fully acknowledging Carlos, the world around him dull and muffled. The media manager was already waiting when he arrived, tapping impatiently on the table as Charles sat down for their first meeting.

But even as they discussed plans, upcoming shoots, and expectations for both his and Carlos’ media presence, Charles wasn’t fully there. He nodded in the right places, offered half-hearted responses, but his mind kept wandering back to that melody. The notes haunted him, pulling his focus away from everything else, as though they held the answer to something he was desperate to grasp.

“Charles, are you listening?” Carlos’ voice snapped him back to the present.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, though his eyes betrayed him. He scribbled something on the notepad in front of him, though the lines didn’t form words—just scattered shapes, like the music notes he couldn’t get out of his head.

The meetings dragged on. Through every discussion, every pitch and presentation, Charles felt the same distraction pulling him away. He couldn’t let it go. The melody. It had stirred something in him—a frustration, yes, but also a strange kind of inspiration. There was something there, something unfinished, and it gnawed at him.

By the time the last meeting ended, Charles felt hollowed out. He hadn’t contributed anything meaningful to the discussions, not really. His mind had been elsewhere the entire day, replaying those fleeting notes over and over again. It was maddening.

He needed to know. Needed to find out who had played it, and why that music—the music he hadn’t written—felt so much like it belonged to him.

Without thinking, Charles pulled out his phone and dialled his producer’s number, pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the conference room as it rang. It was late afternoon now, the sky outside tinged with fading light. He knew he should be focusing on his own work, or on getting back to the studio, but the compulsion to solve this mystery was stronger than his exhaustion.

The line clicked, and his producer’s voice crackled on the other end. “Charles, hey. What’s up?”

Charles leaned against the window, his forehead pressed to the cool glass. “I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice low, edged with impatience. “Last night, around 3 a.m., there was someone in one of the smaller studios, playing piano. Do you know who it was?”

There was a pause on the other end, the faint sound of papers shuffling. “3 a.m.? You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Charles replied, closing his eyes. The melody drifted back into his mind, as clear as if he were still sitting outside the door, listening. “It was… incredible. I couldn’t stop listening. I need to know who it was.”

Another pause, then a small chuckle from his producer. “Ah, that must’ve been the student. Yeah, she’s been coming in late at night to practise. Studies music at the university downtown. Doesn’t perform much, though—mostly keeps to herself.”

Charles’s heart skipped a beat. The name felt unfamiliar, but it already held a weight to it, like it was connected to something he hadn’t yet fully understood.

“She doesn’t perform?” he asked, brow furrowing. It seemed impossible—someone with that much talent, hiding in the shadows.

“Nah,” his producer continued, “she’s a bit under the radar. Not really into publishing or performing her work, but, man, she’s got something special. I didn’t realise you’d heard her.”

Charles was silent for a moment, processing the information. The melody. He could see it now—something just out of reach, like the missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t realised he was trying to solve.

“You know,” his producer said, his tone shifting slightly, “you’ve been stuck for a while, Charles. Maybe you should try working with her. See what happens. It might help you find what you’re looking for.”

Charles swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. The thought of it—composing with someone else, with her—made something stir inside him. Could it be the answer to breaking through this creative silence he’d been drowning in?

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered, though the decision was already forming in his mind.

As he hung up the phone, the melody returned, softer this time, but still persistent. And now, it wasn’t just haunting him—it was pulling him forward.

_________________

The studio felt different tonight, as though it had shifted in his absence. The air was cooler, the lights dimmer, casting long, quiet shadows over the floorboards. Charles stood in the hallway again, just as he had the night before, but this time his heart beat with something more than exhaustion or frustration. There was an anticipation simmering in his chest, a tension just beneath the surface.

He hadn’t come to compose tonight. Not really. He had come for the music. Her music.

The name felt strange on his lips, unfamiliar, yet full of significance. He didn’t know her, had never spoken to her, but her music had already gotten under his skin. It haunted him still, drifting through his mind in fragments even after the long day of meetings, pulling him back here.

He moved quietly down the hallway, the same path he had taken last night, his shoes barely making a sound against the worn floor. As he neared the smaller practice room, the faint sound of the piano floated toward him, delicate and clear, weaving through the quiet.

There it was again—the same effortless, angelic melody that had captivated him before. But now, listening to it a second time, Charles felt something deeper stirring. The way she played was different tonight, more intimate somehow, as if the music had softened, becoming something even more personal. He stopped outside the door, just as he had before, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

For a long moment, he simply listened. The notes seemed to dance in the air, spinning and intertwining, building toward something both beautiful and fragile. It was mesmerising.

But then, the music stopped. Abruptly.

Charles’s eyes snapped open, his pulse quickening in the sudden silence. Before he could move, a voice broke through the quiet, soft but teasing.

“Mama always said it’s not nice to lurk.”

His breath caught in his throat. For a second, he didn’t move, caught off guard. The door was still ajar, the light spilling into the hallway, and from inside, he could make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the piano, her back turned to him. She hadn’t looked up, but she knew. She had known he was there the whole time.

Heat crept up his neck, but before he could stammer out an apology, she spoke again.

“You coming in, or are you planning to stay out there all night?”

Her tone was light, amused even, but it was an invitation all the same. Charles hesitated for a heartbeat longer, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. Then, without thinking, he stepped forward, pushing the door open a little wider.

The room was small and softly lit, just as he remembered, the grand piano dominating the space. She sat at it, her posture relaxed, fingers still resting lightly on the keys. She turned her head slightly as he entered, giving him the faintest glimpse of a smile.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, feeling a bit ridiculous for standing outside like that. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” She shifted on the bench, making space beside her. “Come on, sit.”

Charles’s throat tightened, but he nodded and moved toward the piano, his steps feeling oddly tentative. He hesitated for a second when he reached her, unsure if he should really be sitting so close. The bench was narrow, and he could already feel the warmth of her presence.

She looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “I don’t bite.”

With a small chuckle, he slid onto the stool beside her, the space between them barely a few inches. It was strange, this closeness—to sit here with someone he didn’t know, yet felt connected to through the music that had haunted him for days. Their shoulders brushed lightly as he settled in, and for a moment, the silence between them felt heavy, loaded with expectation.

She glanced at him, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. Then, without a word, she placed her hands back on the piano, her fingers moving over the keys with an effortless grace. The melody returned, soft and slow, and Charles felt his breath catch in his chest again. It was different this time—gentler, more deliberate, as though she was playing just for him.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with the quiet intimacy of the music. He watched her hands move, the way her fingers danced across the keys with the kind of fluidity that only came from years of dedication. The melody wound its way through the air, filling the small space between them, and Charles found himself leaning in, just slightly, drawn to the sound and to her.

“You play like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

She smiled, a soft, almost secretive smile. “It’s never easy,” she said, her voice low, her eyes still on the piano. “It just looks that way.”

She played a few more notes, then paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What about you? You’ve been in the studio night after night. What’s haunting you?”

Charles let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “I’ve been stuck,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “It feels like everything I try to create falls apart. Nothing compares to what I’ve done before.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she played another soft chord, the sound hanging in the air between them.

“Music’s strange like that,” she said after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “It comes and goes. Sometimes it’s easy, other times… it slips through your fingers.”

Charles nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He had been trying so hard to force the music out, to create something that could match his last piece, but all it had done was elude him.

The girl beside him shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing his. “Here,” she said, moving her hands off the keys. “Play something.”

“What?”

“Anything,” she replied, her eyes meeting his for the first time fully. There was a challenge in them, but also an understanding. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Charles swallowed, feeling a sudden surge of nerves. But her gaze was steady, encouraging, and without thinking too much about it, he let his hands find their way to the keys. The notes that came out weren’t perfect—they were hesitant, half-formed. But they were honest. He played softly, the melody faltering at times, but it was real.

She listened, her head slightly tilted as she watched his fingers move. Then, without warning, she joined him, her hands moving gracefully beside his, adding harmonies to the melody he had started. The sound shifted, growing fuller, more complete. The music filled the room, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles didn’t feel the weight of his failure pressing down on him.

Together, they played, their hands moving across the keys in tandem, creating something new. Something neither of them could have done alone.

When the last note finally faded into the quiet, Charles sat back, his heart pounding. She turned to him, her eyes soft and knowing.

“See?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier when you’re not alone.”

For a moment, they sat in the quiet, the echo of their shared melody lingering in the air like the last breath of a long-forgotten song. Charles stared at the keys, feeling the warmth of the music still buzzing in his fingertips. He hadn’t felt like this in weeks—maybe longer. There was something about the way she played, the way her music had melded so effortlessly with his, that made the creative block he’d been wrestling with seem almost insignificant.

He turned to look at her, realising for the first time how close they were, their shoulders still brushing lightly. Her eyes were fixed on the piano, her fingers resting gently on the keys, as though she was waiting for the next melody to arrive. Her presence, though quiet and composed, carried an intensity that matched the music she played—an unspoken understanding of the way music could consume you, take you apart, and put you back together.

“That was…” Charles began, but the words caught in his throat.

“Different?” she offered, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Yeah.” He let out another breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “It felt… easier. Like it wasn’t something I had to force.”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze thoughtful. “Music isn’t something you’re supposed to wrestle with. It’s like water—it flows when you stop trying to hold onto it so tightly.” She shifted her hands off the keys and folded them in her lap, her eyes now fully on him. “You’ve been pushing too hard. I could hear it.”

Her words were soft, but they carried something that made Charles pause. He had been pushing—straining against the silence, desperate to capture a piece of the magic he’d once had. Every night in the studio had been a battle, and he hadn’t realised until now that the real fight was with himself.

“You’re right,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying so hard to top what I did last time that I forgot why I was doing it in the first place.”

She leaned back slightly, still watching him, her expression unreadable. “What was your last piece?” she asked, her voice curious but not probing.

Charles hesitated. The memory of his last composition—an orchestral piece that had been his most successful work to date—felt distant now, like it belonged to someone else. It had been raw, emotional, inspired by something deeply personal, but the success that followed had overshadowed the joy he’d felt when he created it. Ever since then, he’d been chasing that same feeling, trying to recreate the magic, only to fall short.

“It was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Something personal. It came easily back then. But now it feels like I’m trying to catch lightning in a bottle, and I’m just… stuck.”

She nodded, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the piano’s surface. “I get that. Sometimes the more you want something, the harder it is to find. That’s why I don’t perform much.” She smiled faintly, almost to herself. “There’s less pressure when no one’s watching.”

Charles studied her for a moment, sensing the layers beneath her calm demeanour. She spoke with such ease about the creative process, but there was an edge of vulnerability there too, a reluctance to expose too much of herself to the world.

“Why don’t you perform?” he asked, curious now. “I mean, with the way you play, you could easily—”

“Because I don’t need to,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. “The music is for me. It’s not about the audience. It’s about…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s about connecting with something deeper, something that doesn’t care about applause or recognition.”

Her words hung in the air between them, and Charles found himself nodding slowly, understanding exactly what she meant. In a way, she had found a kind of freedom he had lost along the way.

“That’s why you play at night,” he said, more a statement than a question. “When no one’s around. It’s like…” He trailed off, trying to find the right analogy, “…the world doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at that, a real one this time, her eyes brightening just a little. “Exactly. It’s easier to lose yourself when there’s no one expecting anything from you.”

Charles sat back, processing her words. For so long, he had been weighed down by expectations—his own, his producer’s, the fans—and it had drained him. Maybe that was the problem. He had been writing for others, forgetting that the music had always been something he did for himself first. Something he loved.

She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, breaking his thoughts. “You know,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice, “you could try playing like no one’s watching. Even if they are.”

He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, leaning in just a bit, “you’re too worried about what people think of your music. But here”—she motioned to the piano in front of them—“there’s no audience. Just us. So why not stop thinking so much and just… play?”

Charles blinked, the simplicity of her suggestion hitting him harder than it should have. She made it sound so easy, but maybe that was the point. Maybe it was supposed to be easy.

Before he could respond, she slid her fingers back onto the keys, playing a few soft chords that hummed through the air like the beginning of something new. Then she glanced sideways at him, a small, teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Come on. Share the bench again. Let’s make something together.”

A spark of excitement flared in his chest. Without another word, Charles moved closer, their knees brushing as they both settled into position, fingers poised over the keys. This time, he wasn’t overthinking it. He wasn’t wrestling with the music. He was just… there.

She started first, her melody soft and fluid, and Charles followed, instinctively matching her rhythm, letting their sounds merge and flow together. The music wasn’t perfect—it stuttered at times, shifted unexpectedly—but it was alive. It had a pulse. It breathed with them.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Charles wasn’t haunted by the silence. He wasn’t weighed down by the pressure of creating something great. He was just… playing. Creating. Feeling the music as it moved through him, through them both.

As their hands danced over the keys, weaving together something raw and beautiful, he realised something that felt both terrifying and thrilling: maybe this was what he had been missing. Not perfection. Not even recognition. Just the simple, undeniable joy of creating with someone who understood. Someone who could make the music feel real again.

When the last note faded into the quiet, Charles turned to her, his heart still racing.

“I think,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I need to stop chasing what I’ve already done and start finding something new.”

She nodded, her eyes bright and knowing. “And maybe,” she said, her voice equally quiet, “we can find it together.”

The last note lingered in the air between them, and Charles felt something warm and alive settle in his chest. The music they had made together had been unlike anything he’d played in so long—imperfect, yes, but honest. Real. The creative block that had suffocated him for weeks was finally gone, or at least, it felt that way in this fleeting moment of clarity.

She glanced at him, her smile soft but distant. She seemed different now, as though the music had taken something from her as well. Before Charles could say anything, she pushed herself up from the piano bench, her fingers lingering on the edge of the keys for just a second longer than necessary.

"I've got to go."

Her words were quiet, almost an afterthought, and they hit him with an unexpected force. She didn’t give him time to respond, to ask anything, to even say goodbye. She simply gathered her bag and moved toward the door, her steps quick and purposeful.

“Wait—” Charles started, rising halfway from the bench, but it was too late.

She turned to him for a brief moment, a smile that was part mystery, part something he couldn’t quite read crossing her lips. “Don’t stop playing, tesoro (treasure)” she said softly. “You’re closer than you think.”

And then, before he could find his voice, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her with an eerie finality.

Charles stood frozen for a few long moments, staring at the door. His mind raced. He didn’t have her number. He didn’t know where she lived, where she studied, or how to reach her. She had slipped away like a melody in the night, as effortlessly as she’d come into his life.

With a sigh, he sank back onto the piano bench, running his hands through his hair. The room felt strangely empty without her, the space they had shared now echoing with the silence she left behind. But something inside him had shifted. The music they’d created still hummed in his veins, and the weight of doubt that had plagued him for so long felt lighter. Almost like it was dissolving, piece by piece.

He placed his hands on the keys, the cool touch of ivory grounding him, and began to play.

At first, the melody was slow, almost tentative. It mirrored the notes they’d played together, but now it began to morph into something new, something entirely his own. As his fingers moved, the music unfolded naturally, effortlessly. It was as though every piece of frustration, every sleepless night, every failed attempt to capture the right sound was now fueling something greater. Something real.

The notes swelled and cascaded, filling the room with a rich, haunting melody that seemed to flow directly from his soul. It was raw, brimming with emotion—a reflection of everything he had felt, everything he had fought against. But now, there was no more fighting. The music came freely, weaving together in ways that felt effortless and inevitable.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Charles wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t chasing perfection or wrestling with expectations. He was simply… playing. The music poured out of him like a long-held breath, each note sharper, more vivid than the last. The emotions he had buried—frustration, longing, even joy—flooded into the sound, and it consumed him.

His hands moved faster now, the melody becoming more urgent, more intense. He didn’t know where it was going, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about the destination. It was about this—this pure, unfiltered moment of creation.

And then, without warning, a tear slipped down his cheek.

Charles barely noticed it at first, too wrapped up in the music, but soon another tear followed. And another. He wasn’t sobbing—there was no sadness in it. Instead, it was an overwhelming sense of release, of joy, of finally breaking through. The music swelled, the room vibrating with sound, and Charles felt it wash over him. A catharsis he hadn’t known he needed.

When he hit the final chord, it echoed through the room, ringing out long after his fingers had stilled. The silence that followed was profound, heavy with the weight of everything he had just poured into the keys.

Charles sat there, hands trembling slightly, staring at the piano in disbelief. A shaky laugh escaped his throat, followed by a deep, breathless exhale. He had done it. He had finally played something worth keeping.

No—it was more than that. He had played one of the best pieces of his life.

For a long while, he just sat there, his hands resting in his lap, feeling the weight of what he had just created. Tears still clung to his lashes, but his chest felt light—lighter than it had in months. Maybe years.

He wasn’t just crying because of the music. He was crying because, for the first time in a long time, he was truly happy. 

Charles leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool wood of the piano, letting the last remnants of tension drain from him. His breath was steady now, calm. The room was bathed in a kind of quiet peace he hadn’t known in so long. He had no idea where the girl had gone, or if he’d ever see her again. But somehow, it didn’t matter.

The music was enough.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t have known—was that she hadn’t really left. Not entirely.

Outside the door, hidden in the shadows of the hallway, she stood, her back pressed against the wall. She had stopped as soon as she’d heard the first notes drift through the air, her hand hovering over the door handle but never turning it.

She had listened. Every note, every chord, every emotion Charles had poured into the piano, she had felt it too. Her heart had raced with his, her breath had caught in her throat when she’d heard the moment he broke through the wall he had been fighting against.

She smiled softly to herself, her hand finally dropping to her side as the last note of Charles’s masterpiece echoed through the studio. She had heard something in his playing tonight that she hadn’t expected. Something raw and powerful.

She turned to leave, her steps soft on the floor, leaving the sound of his triumph behind. Maybe she would come back one day, maybe not. But she knew this much—he didn’t need her anymore.

He had found his music again. And that, in itself, was enough.

As she disappeared into the night, Charles remained at the piano, still catching his breath, unaware of the quiet presence that had stayed with him until the very end.

The following days felt surreal, like a dream Charles was reluctant to wake from. After that night in the studio with the girl, his life had been interrupted by a trip to Silverstone to try out the tyres for the new season. The track buzzed with its usual energy, but no matter where he wandered, Charles’s thoughts always drifted back to her and the music they’d played together.

He had left the studio that night haunted by the memory of her delicate touch on the keys, the way their melodies had intertwined as though they’d been waiting for each other all along. He carried it with him over to England, through busy track meets and silent hotel rooms. Late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come, he would close his eyes and hear her music, as if it had lodged itself permanently in his mind.

It wasn’t just the music, though. It was her—the quiet way she had smiled at him, the lightness in her voice when she teased him, the sense of understanding that had passed between them without needing to be spoken.

Now, as Charles stepped back into the familiar silence of the studio late at night right off the plane, he felt a quiet anticipation coiled tightly in his chest. The lights were dim, the air cool and still, and for a moment, it felt like time had paused. The room was empty, and there was no trace of her—no soft melody floating through the air, no sound of delicate fingers dancing across the keys.

Disappointment stirred, settling somewhere deep. He’d been hoping, perhaps foolishly, that she’d be here. That they could pick up where they’d left off. He made his way to the piano, where the polished surface glinted in the low light, as inviting as ever.

And then he saw it—a small note left on the piano bench. His pulse quickened as he unfolded it, her handwriting instantly recognizable, though scrawled in that same casual, hurried way:

"Play with your heart, tesoro."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. The simplicity of the message was so very her. It was a whisper, a reminder of what mattered. A push, gentle but certain.

Charles set the note aside and sat down on the bench, the studio eerily quiet around him. For a moment, he just sat there, the weight of the piano keys beneath his fingers, the faint memory of their music hovering in the air. Then, without thinking too much, he began to play.

The melody started slow, almost hesitant, each note like a thought he hadn’t quite formed yet. But as he played, the music unfolded into something deeper, something more intimate. It wasn’t complicated or grand—it didn’t need to be. It was soft, heartfelt, like a quiet conversation spoken in a language only they understood.

He let go of the pressure, the constant need to craft something perfect, and instead just let the music be what it was—a reflection of what he felt, of what had been buried deep inside him since he’d met her. The music filled the room, curling into the corners like a secret. And for the first time in what felt like months, he felt at peace.

As the last notes lingered in the air, a soft sound broke the quiet. Applause—light, slow, and warm.

Charles turned, startled, and there she was, standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. She was watching him, her hands clasped softly in front of her, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with something tender, something familiar. She’d been listening, perhaps the whole time.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Charles murmured, his voice softer than the room itself.

She took a few quiet steps toward him, her gaze never leaving his. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said gently, her smile deepening. “It was beautiful.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt suspended in a kind of stillness, the last remnants of his melody hanging between them, but no words were needed to fill the quiet. She came closer, and Charles shifted slightly on the bench, instinctively making space for her. She sat beside him, their shoulders brushing softly in the small space, the warmth of her presence settling something inside him.

“Play it again,” she whispered, her voice low, like a secret shared just between them.

He hesitated for a second, but then his fingers found their way back to the keys, this time slower, more deliberate. The music that spilled out was softer now, more intimate, as if shaped by the quiet weight of her sitting beside him. She watched as his hands moved, her gaze gentle, and as he played, the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them and the music between them.

After a few moments, her fingers joined his, their hands moving together over the keys with a quiet ease. Her touch was so light, so effortless, and the sound they created was simple yet achingly beautiful—a melody that spoke of longing and connection, of words unspoken but deeply felt. There was no rush, no urgency in the way they played, only a slow unfolding of something real and fragile.

Charles stole a glance at her, his heart tightening. There was something unspoken in the air, something that went beyond the music they shared. He could feel it in the way she leaned in ever so slightly, the way her breath seemed to sync with his, the soft, steady rhythm of their playing.

When the last note faded into the stillness, neither of them moved. They sat there, shoulders barely touching, the silence around them thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her eyes soft, her smile quiet but full of meaning.

“You played with your heart,” she whispered, her words echoing the note she had left for him.

Charles’s throat tightened, the room suddenly feeling too small, too full of everything he hadn’t yet said. He turned toward her, his voice catching in his chest as he whispered back, “You make it easier.”

Her smile deepened, and for a moment, there was only the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the music they had created still lingering in the air around them. It felt like something had shifted between them, like a door had been opened that couldn’t easily be closed again.

And as they sat there, side by side on the piano bench, Charles realised that the silence no longer felt heavy. It felt full—of possibility, of something quiet and beautiful, waiting patiently to be discovered.

Together.

Charles’s heart raced, the air between them thick with anticipation. They sat in a charged stillness, so close their breaths seemed to mingle. The soft light of the studio flickered gently against her face, casting shadows that made her seem almost otherworldly. Her lips parted, just slightly, as if waiting for something—an unspoken invitation.

Before he could think too much about it, before doubt could creep in, Charles leaned in.

At first, it was tentative—a brush of lips so light it felt like it might disappear if he wasn’t careful. He kissed her softly, testing the moment, unsure if he was crossing some unseen line. But then she responded, her lips pressing back against his with the same quiet hunger he hadn’t realised was burning between them all along.

The kiss deepened, their soft breaths mingling in the quiet. A slow, intoxicating warmth spread through Charles’s chest, pulling him further in. He cupped her face gently with his hand, his thumb brushing against her cheek as their lips moved together, tentative but growing bolder with each passing second. Her hand found his, her fingers slipping between his, and she pulled him closer, as though the space between them had become unbearable.

Suddenly, the kiss wasn’t soft anymore—it became something more urgent, more passionate, the weight of everything they hadn’t said spilling over into the kiss. Charles felt his pulse quicken, his mind lost in the warmth and closeness of her. He slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her in deeper, their lips moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as the music they had created moments ago.

She shifted slightly on the bench, her body pressing closer to his, and the heat between them grew. The world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them in the dim, quiet studio, the echoes of their kiss the only sound. The softness of her touch, the taste of her lips—it was all intoxicating, a crescendo building within him.

Charles could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he didn’t want it to stop. He could have stayed in that moment forever, lost in the intensity of her kiss, in the way her hands tangled in his hair, in the way she fit so perfectly against him.

But then, as though sensing they were both on the edge of something overwhelming, Charles pulled back just slightly, his lips still lingering close to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness. They were both breathing harder, and for a moment, neither spoke.

Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with his, wide and full of something unspoken. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, and Charles had to fight the urge to pull her back into another kiss.

“Tesoro” she whispered, her voice soft and a little breathless, as though she couldn’t quite find the words.

He smiled gently, his thumb brushing over her lips before he let his hand fall away, resting on the piano between them. His heart still raced, but there was something peaceful now, something right. He hadn’t felt this in so long—this connection, this ease.

“I need to thank you, angioletto ” Charles murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

“For what?” she asked, her eyes searching his, a quiet vulnerability in her gaze.

“For inspiring this,” he said, his words soft but heavy with meaning. “For inspiring me.” He gestured toward the piano, where the notes of their shared music still seemed to hover in the air between them. “That song we played together… I never would have found it without you.”

Her lips parted, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes shimmered with something deeper, something that mirrored what Charles was feeling.

“You’ve helped me more than you know,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before you, I was stuck. I couldn’t write, couldn’t feel the music anymore. But playing with you—it’s like something clicked. You brought it back.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her smile growing, but there was a quiet tenderness in her expression, as if she understood all the things he wasn’t saying. Slowly, she leaned in, resting her forehead gently against his, and they stayed like that, breathing each other in, the world softening around them.

“I’m glad I could help,” she whispered, her voice a soft caress against his skin.

Charles closed his eyes, letting the moment settle between them, the weight of her words sinking in. He had been searching for something—chasing it endlessly, driving himself to exhaustion in its pursuit. But sitting here, with her, with the music they had created still vibrating in the air, he realised he had already found it.

It wasn’t just the music. It was her. She had become his muse in more ways than one.

He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze once more, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. And then, without another word, he kissed her again—slowly, tenderly this time. It was a kiss filled not with urgency, but with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable.

And in that kiss, Charles knew he wasn’t just thanking her for the music. He was thanking her for being the spark that had reignited something inside him, for being the light in a place that had felt dark for so long.

When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers once more, the two of them still breathing each other in, their hearts in sync. The studio was quiet now, but it wasn’t empty. The music they had shared—the connection they had formed—lingered in the air like a promise.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Charles felt whole.

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[dashitsxx]

don't you ignore me | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

summary. Maybe if Bakugo wasn't being a piece of shit to you, you wouldn't ignore and be bothered by his treatment towards you. However, you need to make him realize his actions, yet his temper always creates the most unexpected outcomes.

genre. angst. explicit smut. 18+

word count. 1.7k

warnings. dubcon. in an established relationship. adult!bakugo. hero!bakugo. citizen!reader. lots of cursing. arguments. aggressive behaviour. bitter and painful words (bakugo). communication issues. hints of possessiveness. a bit of egoistic behavior. degradation. dominance. manhandling. fingering. cunnilingus. slight choking.

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

Silence bore between the two lovers, yet it was not the quietness of peace. It’s as if one of you stands waiting to be ignited before exploding. You crossed your arms and legs as you swung your foot back and forth, an annoyed expression crossed your face while in front of you was a glaring red-eyed man staring at you with a temper much worse than yours.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Oi, aren’t you going to talk? Are you listening to me?" You only glared at him. It was his fault, anyway. So, why should you be bothered to communicate with him when he has no will to do it with you? It was always his profession, here, there, this, everywhere.

You understood him, always.

Yet it was unfair in your case; every time you asked him to do something for you, he would always reject it and prioritize his job before you. You even wonder if you were still his girlfriend or just a fucking maid. You didn't have to explain yourself with that, he should realize how he treats you. You sighed disappointedly at his response as you stood from the couch noiselessly before dashing upstairs to your bedroom. Bakugo stared at you with wide eyes, furious at your disrespect to him, especially your silence. He lets out a chuckle as he follows you. "Y/N. Talk to me, come on. What the fuck is your problem? Come on, babe. Fucking talk to me! You are making me look like a fool." Bakugo complained angrily. You pick up your pace, still ignoring him. "Stop fucking ignoring me!" Finally, Bakugo exploded.

A deafening reverberates in the bedroom as you harshly close the door. A shout followed once you entered your room. There were loud and quick strides that echoed behind the door. “Oi, Y/N! Don’t you ignore me!” Bakugo shouted aggressively. You ignored the loud voice of your boyfriend. Consequently, this made Bakugo bang on the door like a lunatic. “Hey, I am fucking talking to you! Stop being a bitch and open up the door!” He demanded furiously. 

Your jaw clenched upon hearing his words as you sit up before inhaling deeply. “Leave. me. the. fuck. alone. Katsuki. Just go and do your job by fucking other women!” You screamed back at him with a tone emphasising the words.

You stomp loudly on the ground as you heavily lay your body down on the bed. The shouts and screams by Bakugo continued as he continuously bangs the door. He can blast your door with his quirk at any moment, but despite his irritable temper, he is never reckless with his actions.

This situation resumes between you and your boyfriend for 5 more minutes until the banging stops. You waited a few moments to expect another banging, but it never came. When you feel like Bakugo has given up, you reach up to grab your pillow to place it on your face before gripping it and screaming as loud as you can.

“Asshole! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Your muffled screams vibrated through the pillow. You were frustrated at your boyfriend. In a relationship, generally, people expressed that communication is the key to a healthy relationship. You agree with that perception while hoping to experience where you and your significant other are open towards each other, with no shyness or fear present. But with Bakugo, it was the opposite. He was loud, but it meant that he never listened. There were a lot of circumstances you can name where you tried to get him to listen to you. He always wanted people to follow him, including you. You love Bakugo, but you hate that part about him. His pride was a problem to you and the relationship itself. It hinders you from attempting to be open with your lover.

Sometimes, a thought passes by saying it would be better if you weren't in a relationship. You remove the pillow from your face as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

Should you break up with him? Suddenly, a frame appeared in your view. A loud gasp left your lips as you propped your elbows. The man in front of you had a deadly grin and eyes that were blazing fire as if his stare would kill you in seconds.

"The fuck did you just say, babe?" He gritted through his teeth. Your eyes dilated upon seeing your boyfriend. Your lips shake from fright as you try to form your words, "H-how... w-what, h-how did you..."

A chuckle left Bakugo's mouth as he trapped you between his body and the bed, slowly climbing up, "Babe, you are not the one who is only living here, hmm? But I want to know what you said a while ago."

You frown upon what he said—did you say it out loud? You never meant it. It was the heat of the moment. In a million years, you never wish for that to happen even if it passes in your mind. You back away slowly, "What do you mean? I didn't say anything..."

Another sarcastic chuckle was emitted by your boyfriend as he pushed himself up on his knees and cracked his knuckles soundly. You feel shivers spreading through your body as you wait for his turn to speak. His silence was fearing you.

Suddenly, he yanked your ankles towards him, leaving you to yelp in surprise. As he climbs between your legs and then bends down to you. With that, he begins to your face with his right hand, drawing in a ticklish manner. Gently, his thumb stops at your lips. You stare at Bakugo's face, only to see him, licking his lips sensually. He unhurriedly pushes his thumb between the gap of your lips as you allow him. The push of your tongue down made your back arched, your crotch inches away from his.

"You know, baby? I admire your courage, really do." Bakugo snickers as his hand leaves your mouth to slowly slide down to your neck, the saliva trailing your chin.

"It is one of the things I love about you... however, you can't fuck with me with that foolishness of yours."

A sudden, rough placement was rubbing your clothed pussy, and you gasped loudly at the sensation. Pleasure soared through your body despite the brutish action of Bakugo. He sneered at your reaction, it was definitely satisfying to see you squirming at his touch below him as always.

His right hand proceeds to lift your shirt up to free your breasts from the confinement of the fabric, "You say you wanna break up with me, huh? What the fuck you have been drinking for you to say that?" He mocks.

As his other hand hooks your shorts and panty to the side before sliding a finger up your slit. A moan erupted from your lips, "Oh my gosh, Katsuki!" You could not reply to his mocks due to the unbelievable satisfaction that he always gives you.

"This slut can't even give an answer." Bakugo grabs a nipple by his lips, sucking it harshly before switching to your other boob. You hissed in response. Bakugo always knows how to make you shut up, it wasn't your fault you couldn't answer.

"Perhaps, I should fuck you hard to get that pissy attitude out of your pussy... and I'll make sure that you would never think about leaving me. I guess this is what you deserve after fucking ignoring me the whole day." A deadly grin formed on Bakugo's lips as he let go of your nipples.

Your eyes widen as you quickly place your hands on his huge forearms. "W-wait! Katsuki! Ah!" You moan loudly as your boyfriend inserts two of his thick fingers in your cunt, making you feel full.

Like the expert he is, he harshly thrusts his fingers with his thumb circling your clit rapidly. You suck in a deep breath as your back arches greatly. The squelch of your pussy entertained Bakugo as he felt this great pride overpowering him.

"Look at how wet you are, babe. No one will ever get you this wet other than me."

The words of Bakugo only passes through the other ear as you feel dizzy at the pleasure. While you attempt to at least decrease the sensation, Bakugo notices it as he chuckles.

He then placed his palm flat on your pelvis area, pushing you to prevent you from moving away from him, but this didn't help you one bit. It made it more difficult for you to resist the upcoming hurl around your stomach. You squirm around his hold, "S-slow down! F-fuck, Bakugo!" You plead while leaving long streaks of red marks, digging your nails.

Yet, your boyfriend ignored the pain. He only curved his lips upwards as he continued to finger you at a merciless speed. You were a mess; beads of sweat formed all around your body; hair was in a dishevelled state; and a fucked-up pleasure expression crossed your face.

As you are in bliss, you don't notice your boyfriend go down on you. Then you feel a long wet stripe along your hole, and you take a sharp inhale. "Oh fuck, Katsuki!"

A snicker left his lips as he licked your slit deliberately. His red eyes stare at you, "You're lucky, I'd be the one fucking you like this. A lot are lining up just to get a taste of me."

His thumb continues to rub your clit. "But no man will be able to satisfy you like I do. Well, I don't plan to let them either." A possessive tone was evident in his voice.

You open your mouth to retract back at him, but he laps his tongue on your sensitive bud, making you twist. You slid your hand from his forearms to grab his hair hard.

He was ruthless as he pushes your hips down to prevent you moving carelessly. Katsuki sucks your clit repeatedly. Yet, you only gave moans and whimpers until a sudden twist feeling quickly emerges, releasing in your stomach as you heave.

"Oh, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You muttered repeatedly, which made your boyfriend laps his tongue in a much brutal pace.

You shiver as you release. Your chest rises up and down as you try to catch your breath. However before you gather yourself up, a hand stops you by pushing your neck down. You cough in the process as you struggle to breathe.

He glowers down at you with intense eyes. He is portaying his dominance over you. Little by little, he leans to your ear, lips slowly tickling the small hairs.

"I am still not done with you."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33