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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

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after hours

boss!anakin x secretary!reader

synopsis: since you slept together, anakin, your boss, has been acting pretty much normal around you. on occasion he flirts with you and leaves you little gifts. but you start to question if he sees you as little more than an office plaything.

w.c: 1.2k

highlights: {minors dni} requested anonymously, sexual content and themes, power imbalance, infidelity mentioned, explicit language, brief mentions of domestic abuse

Every single shift after you made the terrible decision of sleeping with your boss, you find a purple rose on your desk. And you have collected enough to make a bouquet which stands in a tall glass right beside your computer. Neither of you have had much time to talk about what happened afterwards. He’s been caught up in his work, and you’ve been caught up in managing his life and coffee orders.

Every time he passes your desk to get to his own office, he flashes his smile and gives you a little wink, letting you know that he hasn’t forgotten what happened. But you don’t know why he seems uninterested in talking about it. You’re too afraid to bring it up to him because… well, he’s your boss. And you’re not exactly sure of where you stand with him anymore. The dynamics of your professional relationship is just as fucked up as you had been on your desk only last week.

God, it’s embarrassing to remember how many documents were destroyed in the hurricane that had been desperate sex with Anakin. You wonder how long it had been since he’d fucked because he acted as though he was deprived. Considering his tumultuous relationship with his beauty queen wife, it all added up though. He needed a release. And you held your legs wide open for him.

It wouldn’t surprise you if he sees you only as a quick fuck, an office plaything to entertain himself with when his wife is upset. Each time you imagine that likely reality you chip off a piece of your self-image.

When he walks through past your desk this morning to begin the day, Anakin stops at the entrance to his office and turns to you. “Mind staying late today?”

You narrow your eyes at him slightly. “Why?”

He freezes for a moment as if he didn’t expect you to question his authority. “Well…” he crosses his arms, “Work stuff.”

You give him a sigh. Something is up. You can tell by the mischievous grin he wears as he looks at you. “I promised I’d meet my friends for drinks later.”

He opens his door a little wider to reveal his liquor cabinet. “I’ll make you one.”

“Are you asking me to have a drink with you?”

He gives you a shy smile and closes the door behind him. He knows you won’t chase after him. You’re too afraid to stand up to him. The dynamics have shifted even further in his favor now that you’ve slept with him.

You hit your hands against your face. You stupid, stupid girl!

Most people had left by five o’clock. The forty-floored skyscraper is a ghost town. As you wait at your desk for your boss to finish up, you swear you can hear yourself think. You nearly scream when he opens the door because you were lost in your thoughts completely. He waves you in, and he’s holding a red drink in his hand.

That’s your drink. A cosmopolitan. How’d he know that?

He hands it to you as you walk in. It’s love at the first sip. Apparently, the famous CEO is also a cocktail expert.

“How is it?” he asks.

You sip slowly, pacing yourself. “Good. Thank you.”

Anakin offers you his office chair, burgundy, shiny faux-leather, and rolls across the floor as if it’s ice. As heat rushes to your cheeks, you accept his kindness and sit, crossing your legs daintily.

He steps over to his personal bar and pours himself a glass of wine. He swirls it around in his glass a couple times before taking a big sip. Then he turns to you again.

“So,” he mutters.

You smile. “What work stuff did you wanna go over.”

Anakin stands in front of you as if to purposefully occupy your entire view. He takes another sip before finally answering.

“Fine. You’ve got me. Not work stuff.”

You mask your surprised expression by sipping on your own drink. Honestly, you don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s stupid, but you don’t want to assume it’s to talk about your intimate encounter though you wouldn’t mind trying it again. You’ve started wearing matching lingerie every day to work.

“I was hoping…” he hangs his head as he grabs your hand, “we wouldn’t be a one-time thing.”

“What are you asking for, Anakin? Sex?”

With a grin on his lips, he glances up at you again. “You. That’s what I want.”

You set your glass on his desk with a white clink echoing through. “Just me?”

“Just you,” he repeats. “All to myself.”

“You know, I could have a boyfriend,” you say standing up, facing him.

“Well… I hope he doesn’t mind that you’re going to be working overtime…” he pauses and sets his drink beside your glass, “almost every night.”

Of course, his arrogance shouldn’t turn you on like it does, the presumptuousness of his assumption that you’ll be spending every night with him. But it works on you. His unbreakable confidence in everything he does amazes you, and you fall harder somehow. You throw your arms around his neck, and he leans your body back, his hands cupping your ass, and he kisses your deeply. His lips taste of sweet wine and the cigars he smokes sometimes. You chase his tongue into his mouth. And he likes it.

His hands start to lift the edges of your pencil skirt, seeking you. You push back to stop him. You want to take this slowly. Not like last time. Last time was messy and fast. You were swept away by the most animalistic passions.

This time you want to savor him. Savor his touch, the way he feels against your skin, the taste of his body, and the scent of his cologne.

You start with his tie, pulling it down from the back of his neck. It’s blue silk a little darker than his eyes. You unbutton his white dress shirt, slowly revealing the skin beneath decorated by curly hair. Against your fingers, it’s downy soft. You nuzzle his chest with your nose and with your mouth and with your tongue.

He rolls his shirt off and it falls behind him to the floor. Next, you deftly tackle his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it through the loops. The metal clatters on the hard floor, but you don’t stop.

In your last encounter, all he managed was to rip your panties off and unzip his fly. He could hardly wait to get inside you. And it had been a tight fight, even with his attempts to ready your body.

This time you fully undress each other and fully embrace your natural states during this intimate meeting. Anakin admires your body, rubbing his hands up and down the sides of your hips, savoring your breasts.

You like this softer side to him. The life he lives has hardened him. You have to be cutthroat to survive. And you know he’s done things he’s not proud of.

But you know his heart. And right now, his heart is for you.

He’s looking down at you in the same way he used to towards his wife. All you can hope for is that his feelings for you will last.

add yourself to my taglist!! @princessswifie @doblasftcisco @multifandermissesanakin @jadegmfu @coldkiss @mysteriouslydelightfulcloud @karei009 @anda-the-valkyrie @vinushkka @avoxzy @edclynns @ter-luer @anakinniesluv @purelevna @forets-noyees @zvjezdapadalica @anisgirl7 @reine-lalune @ssskywalkerrr @anakinsbbgirl @sweetcheesecakesblog @rozastarz @moonlight-kr @anonymous1996s @luvanaise @ziggystarduzzt @gwdnsqal @lonelywitchv2 @tembud @obsessedrebel @c-losur3 @just-here-to-readd @slut4ani @abaker74 @anakinbbg @ellebunnie @sandymorgan12 @ultraviolenceticket @emotionallybruisedx @ririszn @itsoneofusworld @pheonixfucu @kittycai

#loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin imagine

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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months

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anakin skywalker knows your body inside and out. He’s attuned to you in every way that’s possible… possible to a Jedi demigod. Conceived in equal parts Force and human blood. He knows you through and through. When your bodies come together, those special hours few and far between that you share with only him, you lose yourself to him. Your obsessive and faithful lover. His supernatural senses understand every little need you have, leaving no wanting place along your body unscathed by his passion. He marks you as his in places you can't possibly cover. The bruises are a mystery to everyone but you. and yet... that's enough for him. Because he knows every time you see the red and purple markings along your otherwise flawless skin, you'll think of him, the one who holds your heart in the shadows, the only one who calls you his.

#divider by @mewryn #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely ani thoughts #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin drabble #anakin imagine

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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months

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finnick odair runs the tightly woven string over his palms and through his fingers and ties it into knots, efficiently making a fishing net with his own two hands. You sit on the pier together, your feet dangling off the edge and over the dark waters. Intently, you watch him in admiration for his handiwork. You know that you could never keep up with him though you both grew up in District 4. He’s just very good with his hands in ways that you are not. Those are the same hands and long, nimble fingers that work magic inside you and touch where no one else has. Watching his hands and fingers move, bend, and manipulate the string into knots isn’t quite enough to tempt you to beg for him to take you there… right here, right now. But it is enough to make your heart race and your soul drown in memories of all the times he’s held heaven in his touch.

add yourself to my taglist!!

#divider by @mewryn #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely finnie thoughts #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick #finnick x reader #finnick smut #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #thg finnick #finnick imagine #the hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick odair drabble #finnick drabble #sam claflin #the hunger games

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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months

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divine temptations

no angels could beckon me back, it's hotter than hell where I'm at

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

series synopsis: blessed with unmatched beauty and wisdom, anakin still longs for more, the things he’s forbidden to have… like you. for angels and humans are forbidden to mate. as a guardian of heaven, his duties keep him away from the realms of earth, away from you. seeing you wholeheartedly worship his creator, leaving him unnoticed, his envy consumes him. and he's determined to risk it all for your devotion.

series warnings: {minors dni} dark content, heavy religious themes and imagery, inspiration taken from christianity and catholicism, sexual content and themes, anakin has a corruption kink, reader is in a convent, virgin!reader, undetermined historical setting, fem!reader & use of she/her pronouns

table of contents:

111 | 222 | 333 | 444 | 555 | 666 | 777

@ejs398 @anakinsgirlfriendreal

#best viewed in dark mode :)#divider by @4ngelic-wh1spers #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #fallenangel!anakin #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

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tangle of strings

pianoteacher!anakin x student!reader

synopsis: mr. skywalker has been your piano instructor since you were fourteen years old. from the moment you met, you knew he was the one. he never expressed his feelings for you vocally, despite all the time you spent together. but after you turn eighteen and prepare to leave for college, he changes his tune.

w.c: 6.9k

warnings!! {minors dni}, dark content, grooming heavily featured, sexual content occurs after the reader is 18, p in v, fingering, oral, fem!reader, gentle dom!anakin, sub!reader, "loss" of virginity, jealousy, religious themes

the content you consume is your responsibility ♡

The piano is the only thing Mr. Skywalker told you that he loved.

He was never spotted with a girl or anyone for that matter in a romantic sense. He was always single, which never made sense to anyone in your small town because he is handsome. He’s always been handsome. His yearbook pictures from high school proved it.

When you would go over to his house for piano lessons, he would show you many things from his life, like his award cabinet, filled with every trophy and certificate he’s won from piano competitions or his yearbook photos. Those photos were one of the first things he showed you. It was one of your first memories of just you and him.

Mr. Skywalker takes a big stack of books off the shelf in his library all at once. Using his strength to balance the dusty books on his arms, he brings them to the reading table where you sit. He takes off the top one and opens it up before you.

Eventually, you find his picture. You cover your mouth as you giggle. He had thick glasses making him look like a nerd. But he was cute. So, undeniably cute to you. You wish he could be the same age. You would want to be his friend. You would want to kiss him.

If you were the same age, he could be yours.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he muses, his large body looming behind you as he looks over your head to gaze at the picture. “I used to be the kid everyone picked on. When I’d get home, I would write a song about how I was feeling. Some of those songs inspired the ones I play at my shows.”

When he talks, you gush. His warm voice is safe. He’s the kind of person you could tell all your secrets to.

And you did tell him everything you couldn’t tell your parents. You’d tell him your deepest secrets. Like the boys you crushed on. Or your new feelings of lust towards them that caught you off-guard as a teen. He understood you like no one else in the whole world. He was the first to know about your first kiss when you were sixteen. And he seemed… jealous when you told him.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you say. “One moment, we were talking and laughing. And the next thing I know, Drew is pushing me down on the bed to kiss me!” you squeal. “But don’t tell my parents. They’ll think I’m a whore.”

Mr. Skywalker pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I always keep your secrets. Drew is the boy in your history class, correct?”

You nod, amazed that he would remember. The last time you spoke of Drew had been several months ago. But he always pays attention to even the smallest details. That’s how you know he cares.

“I don’t know if he’s good for you,” he mutters, noticeably bitter about something. “Does he really know you? I think… he doesn’t. He’s probably just trying to use you.”

Mr. Skywalker is much older than you. And wiser. So you take his advice to heart. Maybe you shouldn’t see Drew tonight after all.

“How many times have you been kissed?” you ask him, your voice all innocent. Although your motives were anything but pure. While you might have just shared a kiss with Drew, there is one man who is truly the object of your greatest desires. You just haven’t found a way to tell him.

He shakes his head. “You know I’d rather talk about you.” That’s what he says when you pry too deeply into his private life, which only adds to your secret obsession

Anakin has always been the one thing that rivals your obsession with your instrument of choice. And it’s the only secret you kept from him all through high school because you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about you.

Even if the small touches, the secret looks, and long hugs seemed to indicate otherwise. You were too afraid to ask him what it all meant. He never gave that kind of attention to anyone else.

And as an awkward teen, you were furious that you couldn’t express your love to him directly. You kept telling yourself that you would when you’re older. When you turned eighteen, you would confess to him.

Since you couldn’t tell anyone, even him, about this secret, you’d use the piano to share your soul, to put your feelings out into the atmosphere. When you play, no matter where you are, you feel him sitting on the bench beside you, watching over you.

He taught you everything you know now. He’s the reason you chose to major in Piano Performance in college to the great horror of your parents. But what did they expect? They watched you sacrifice your youth for excellence in your craft. The nights were filled with pools of tears, cries, and screams as you played until you got the part, section, or note just right.

When your fingers rest on the ivory keys, you feel him and nothing else. He’s your muse in every song you write.

The piece that won you a full scholarship to your dream university, you wrote it while thinking of Anakin. Your beloved piano teacher. Your closest friend. Your secret love.

He’d been in your life for so long, giving you lessons when you first showed an interest in music. How could you not love him?

He went to the same church that your family attended every Sunday. He played piano sometimes during worship service if the music minister was out on vacation or fell ill. Church was how your father met him, and they became good friends. He often came to your Sunday lunches.

Your mom always cooked fried catfish or fried chicken because that’s what your dad wanted. Mr. Skywalker, as you called him back in your high school years, would eat two plates of food. He’d say things like “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in years,” even if he was at your house just last week. You would laugh the loudest at his jokes. As you think about them now, you realize they weren’t funny, but you’re in love with him so it doesn’t matter.

After lunch, your parents would take care of the food and dishes, giving alone time with him. Like a young pup, you’d follow him outside on the back porch where you’d sit side by side on the creaky old swing.

“Do you cook or bake?” he asks you.

You haven’t the slightest idea of why he’d ask such a thing. You still lived with your parents. Your mom does most of the cooking. Your dad grills sometimes. “No. I get scared that I’ll burn myself.”

Suddenly, he reaches over for your left hand, the closest one to him, from your lap and holds it between his great palms. “Cold,” he whispers. He massages your fingers to revive them. “I wouldn’t want you to burn your hands. They’re so perfect… for playing.”

Anakin looks down at what he’s doing to you and his expression sours. At the time, you don’t know why. You wonder if you said or did something he doesn’t like because the mood changes instantly. He drops your hand and pats your thigh.

“You have piano hands, remember?” he reminds you. He smiles at you, and you feel secure again.

That’s exactly the thing that you always tell him. His hands spread out further than a whole octave, while you struggle to hit the two octave notes simultaneously without pulling a muscle. His fingers are long, and his palms are wide. You can’t compete with that.

You wonder what other things he’s good at with hands like those.

For the entirety of your high school existence, you pined and pined after him. He was always on your thoughts every minute of every day. You never grew sick of daydreaming about him. And on occasion that was reflected in your grades though you maintained a high GPA regardless. Every week was just your going through the motions of life mindlessly, only waiting for two short hours out of the week on Friday which was when you took lessons with him.

You lived solely for those two hours in which he gave you piano lessons free of charge. He said it was because you had such potential, but still to this day, you like to think he reciprocated some of your feelings even before he actually made a move on you.

For those two hours, you would sit right up against him on the leather cushion of the piano bench and play for him whatever pieces you were working on or things he assigned you from the previous week. He was never harsh with you even when you weren’t getting something.

You throw your hands on the keys, striking a dissonant chord that makes you both wince. Mr. Skywalker instantly pulls your hands away.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said with concern. “I promise you’ll get this. It just takes time. I know you practice too much as it is.”

“I want to be good! I want to be a star!” With that, you break down instantly and cry. He never minds when you cry in front of him.

“One day, you will be. I believe in you,” he soothes you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head as if you belong to him. He hugs you. “We can try again when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” you say, leaning against him to hear the echo of his heart. His heartbeat is sensual to you, even at sixteen. You can’t explain it. These stupid hormonal feelings you have for him are so wrong. But when you look up into his passionate eyes, you see the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. You have to marry him. You have to.

From the time you were five, you were afraid of thunder and lightning. Terrified by it actually. The fear is still with you today. But it was so much worse in middle school and high school. You started taking lessons from Anakin when you were fourteen years old. And you were still such a child then. You remembered the time it stormed so hard during your lesson that you had to spend the night at his house because it was too dangerous for your mother to come pick you up. But that also meant you couldn’t hide your abnormal fear of a thunderstorm from Anakin.

He had this giant plush rug under the piano. When you asked him about it, he said that it caught the sound. At the tail end of your lesson, the night you had to stay over, lightning struck close to his house and spooked you so much that you shrieked and slipped under the piano, curling up on that soft rug like a scared puppy.

Anakin was such a sweetheart because he followed you there.

“Hey,” he whispers, rubbing your back, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You cry into your arms, hiding your face. “I know! I know it’s stupid of me. I just—”

“It’s not stupid. We all have different fears.” After he says that, he lies on his back beside you. “But I won’t let the storm hurt you, okay. We can stay here all night.”

And that you did. You cowered under the grand piano in his parlor all night long. That was the first time you ever cuddled with a boy, only he was a man almost twice your age. But that didn’t bother you. And it seemed not to bother him. He let you hold onto him through the night and squeeze him a little harder when you heard thunder. It has been one of your most precious memories of your piano teacher.

You had always known Anakin could be a little jealous. Any time you would mention your school friends the air would get tense, as if he didn’t want you to have anyone else in your life but him. He never said that, but he didn’t have to. There was always rage somewhere beneath the still blueness of his eyes, but his rage was never directed towards you until you told him that Drew wanted you to be his girlfriend.

You were seventeen. And you were so excited to have your first boyfriend even if you weren’t in love with him. At least people might not tease you for still being a virgin because it wouldn’t be so obvious. Anakin never did make fun of you for your innocence. He always said that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready or for the right person.

Immediately after you share the news of your official relationship with Drew, he freezes and closes the lid to the piano keys.

His jaw is tight. His voice is tense. “Maybe... we should be done for today.” He doesn’t even acknowledge what you said, as if he’s afraid to.

But you have no one else to celebrate with. Drew is a secret you keep from them because he’s not involved in church. “Did you hear me?” you press.

He grinds his teeth hard, and you hear bone against bone. Anakin nods. “I did.”

You nudge his arm. “Well?”

“Well what?” he snaps bitterly. He turns slightly to glare at you. “You know how I feel ab—about him.”

You roll your eyes. Anakin is a dramatic guy sometimes. “Drew isn’t that bad. He can be sweet. And he’s going to take me to prom!”

Anakin rises off the piano bench and pats down his black slacks. “So, you don’t care what I think then?” He’s staring down upon you with overwhelming disapproval. The muscles of his arms bulge when he crosses them over his chest.

Palms against the leather cushion, you hold yourself up. You notice yourself trembling when you realize that he’s not teasing you. He’s very upset... with you. Why would he be—does this mean—does he feel something after all?

“Of course, I do, Mr. Skywalker.”

“I told you not to get close with him!” he shouts. You’ve never heard him raise his voice at you. “He has bad intentions. He’s just a dumb kid. What does he know about loving you?”

You start to sob. “I’m sorry. I thought you might be... happy for me?”

He scoffs. And it sounds like you disgust him right now. “I don’t want to hear about him ever again. I don’t want to know anything about your little boyfriend. Do. You. Understand?”

Having him speak to you that way made you feel like a little girl. And you hated that feeling more than anything else. You knew that you were innocent, and you hated yourself for it because it made you feel inadequate to love the man you really wanted.

But now you’d do anything to have that innocence again. You didn’t realize at the time how free you once were. Growing up was harder than you thought it would be. It almost broke you.

You were lucky to have someone like Anakin to build you back up again, even if he was the one that tore you down that time.

After he yelled at you, you rushed out of his home as quickly as you could. The silence lasted a day. And then he drove to your house and knocked on your door. He held in his hands a bouquet of white roses and on his lips was the apology you were waiting for.

Nothing changed between you after that. Until your next birthday came around.

Up to your eighteenth birthday, your interactions were mostly harmless. But when you turned eighteen, an official adult, the tension between you had changed. The energies you both entertained shifted and became... dare you say... sexual to a degree. Anakin seemed to treat you a little differently now that you were fair game.

To celebrate your eighteenth birthday, he was there. In fact, he was the only one you insisted that mother invite. Not Drew or any of your school friends. Just Anakin. And he had to be there because he really was your one true friend. You couldn’t imagine celebrating your birthday without him. He was always a guest at your birthday parties, but he gave you a special gift this year, one so unforgettable that sometimes you hear it clear as day.

Anakin wrote you a piano solo. One that was simple, sweet, and addicting. You told him to play it again and again. After cake and presents, you made him teach you how to play it. You were very proficient now, and often could play things just by hearing them once. But the chords he chose for your song were unique and shouldn’t have meshed so well together. But they did. Just like you and him. Unlikely friends. Star-crossed lovers in your head.

The two of you stayed at the piano all evening, messing around with the song. By the end, you both had figured out how to layer the notes and chords in an even more perfect duet. Playing piano with him was almost the best birthday gift in the world to you. But it was not what you wished for.

You wished for a kiss.

But that would mean you’d have to tell him how you felt. And you were terrified. As an adult, now you could. It was more empowering than you thought it could be.

But you never did find a chance to tell me on your birthday. You were too afraid to ruin your night with a love confession. You know he would do the right thing and reject you, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming for the impossible.

When you walked him outside to his car—you insisted—your secret birthday wish came true. Not in the way you expected. But a kiss did happen. Your piano teacher kissed you on the cheek. Your face burned the whole night through. You couldn’t sleep because you wanted to know what it meant. He had never used his lips to touch any part of you before.

Physical contact had always been an important part of your bond with Anakin since the beginning. There were always the hugs that lasted just a little too long. And he seemed to always find an excuse to hold your hand. But he was your piano teacher, and the hand-to-hand contact always felt necessary and never strange.

But following your very special birthday, you found him staring at you a little longer, a little more deeply, and he seemed to always find an excuse to touch you, not in a sexual way but in a way that led you to believe the attraction wasn’t one sided.

He’d tuck your hair behind your ears, brush the side of your arm, and sit impossibly close to you that you swore you could almost hear his heartbeat. Anakin had never been hesitant to touch you before, but if there were any boundaries before, they were forgotten by him. And you enjoyed it. His new attention made you feel special and wanted. And that was all you ever wanted.

You began to touch him too. And seek physical attention from him. You would nuzzle his arm. Slip your fingers between his. Tap your shoes against his. He’d always notice, and he always hugged you or kissed your cheek in response.

You two were getting closer than ever before. Sometimes... you would barely touch the keys, getting lost in conversation. At this point, Drew and any other boy you were interested in before might as well have been dead. There was only room in your heart for Anakin.

And you had discovered a way to tell him without using your fragile words.

You sit on the bench waiting for him to get off the phone with his mother. She called him shortly after he let you in. About ten minutes later, he comes back.

“Sorry. I was worried she was in trouble,” he says, taking his spot beside you. “Now, where were we last week?”

“We... didn’t really go over anything.”

He bites into his full lower lip with a mischievous look in his eyes. “What are you paying me for then?”

You laugh because you’ve never once paid him for his time. You nudge his thigh with yours. “Honestly, I don’t really think there’s much more you could teach me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh really?”

You nod. “Actually, I’ve been writing something for you.”

His jaw lowers, and his mouth hangs open slightly. “How long have you kept this secret?”

“Since my birthday.”

He slips his arm around your back and rests his hand on your hip. “I’m impressed. Show me?”

You gulp heavily. That had been the plan today. It is ready for him. He’d never judge you even if it were bad. But you know that it’s not. You know that he’ll know what this piece means. He knows you too well. He’s too perceptive of everything. You wrote it in his favorite key, C minor.

With your hands a little shaky, your fingers glide softly across the piano and press down powerfully in chords. Through music, you profess your love. Anakin sits beside you and waits for you to finish. When you do, he’s waiting, staring with tears thickening his dark eyelashes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything, but you know... he knows how you feel.

You tug on his shirt, drawing him closer. A war of heart and mind reflects on his face. He’s doubting what he wants. His resistance is half-hearted. It isn’t long before he scoops you up in his arms and kisses you. This time his mouth is on your lips, wetting them, and tugging them apart to fill you with his tongue.

Drew was never this good. His mouth was sloppy and tight. Anakin kisses like he’s done this a thousand times before. And he kisses like he wants you. Like he’s wanted you for such a long time, despite how wrong you both know that is.

He holds you down in his lap, and you hug him tightly, carding your fingers through his dreamy hair. You start to feel lightheaded because you haven’t been able to breathe, but you don’t want to stop him. If you stop him, he might think and realize that he doesn’t want you anymore.

But you’re dying. Turning blue. You tap his shoulder. And he stops devouring you. His lips sparkle when he smiles. “Too much for you, baby?”

You sharply inhale, finally catching your breath. You shake your head. You want more. You need it. More isn’t even enough.

You spend the whole lesson entangled with one another until your mother comes to pick you up.

For the next month, that’s all you did. Kiss and kiss and kiss. Breathe and breathe and breathe. And kiss some more. You wondered why he was waiting to take you to his bed. You wanted that with him, but he never asked you to go that far. He seemed afraid. Even when his affection was overflowing in passion as you always knew it would be, it was clear that he was holding himself back. Did he need you to tell him what to do?

Your make out sessions extended beyond just your lesson time. Whenever he would come over to your house, he would go upstairs with you to your bedroom, and you’d end up tangled in the sheets. Though with every item of clothing on. Your parents never suspected anything was happening to their young, virtuous daughter. They trusted him completely. And so did you. You would have done anything he asked of you no matter the risks.

Even at church, he’d find a way to get you alone. In the girl’s bathroom. During the preacher’s sermon.

Anakin lifts you onto the sink and spreads your legs out so that he can fit between them and get close to you. Thumb under your chin, he tilts your face up to his. He grins before going in for a kiss.

Your lavender baby doll dress rides up your thighs as he inches closer. He presses up against the crotch of your panties. The dampness is cold against your tender flesh. His erection only grows as the friction between you builds, your bodies rubbing against each other in a clothed attempt to satisfy yourselves sexually.

And now you’re glad you waited and didn’t mess around with Drew like he wanted when you were together. Because that means Anakin could be your very first.

He freezes up when you try to unbuckle his big belt. Anakin looks at you strangely, almost disturbed by your actions.

You lean to his ear and whisper, “I. Want. It.” You had thought your seductive voice would be enough to cast him off the edge of all hesitation, that he’d bend to your will and give you what you want.

But all you did was kill the fire.

Head shaking, he backs away. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

And you didn’t see him for nearly a month after that. But you don’t regret what you said. You were tired of just endless make out sessions. It seemed so immature, and you knew you were ready for something real.

All of those memories, those beautiful capsules of your favorite times with Anakin, are the reason you find yourself on his doorstep, a quarter till midnight in the pouring rain.

Complete desperation.

You took your moms car without permission just to drive over despite the threat of a storm. And you’re still deathly afraid of them. But you came anyway. Because tomorrow, you’re leaving for college. You might not get another chance to fix things. Death would be better than living another moment without him.

“You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls, Anakin.”

The door is barely cracked open, just enough that you can see his pale face. Dark circles surround his rainy eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, not even making eye contact.

Thunder echoes behind you. The wind blows your hair around. Leaves rustle, filling the silence between you both. It’s going to storm soon. You had been stupid enough to drive to his house just before a storm. But you couldn’t take not knowing what had happened to him and why he was dodging your calls.

The eyes that used to linger a little too long won’t acknowledge you even as you stand in front of him.

“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you!” you nearly scream. You’re so afraid that he’s not only pushing you away but also ejecting you from his life completely, as if the memories you share can be erased. He’s engrained in almost every memory you have.

“It can’t happen. Go away.”

He tries to close the door on you, but you stick the toe of your right shoe in the crack before it shuts.

“Please… please don’t do this.”

Anakin’s eyes are bloodshot as if he’s been crying. “What I want isn’t right. I can’t do it. I don’t know if I could live with myself after.”

Does he really hate me so much? Is that the truth? Perhaps it’s your naivety, but you won’t let him go so easily. You have suffered in silence for nearly a decade, pining after him, waiting for him to reciprocate the depth of your feelings. Your hands shake as you reach out to him. If he would just… hold your hand like he used to, then maybe everything would be alright.

Your fingertips brush against each other. You feel the spark instantly, and it travels down your spine, leaving you wanting to touch him more.

“What about what I want?”

Anakin blinks several times before he speaks. It’s as if he didn’t consider your feelings in this decision. “You’re… not in a position to see things clearly. You’re—”

“Don’t say it!” you exclaim, squeezing your fists. “I’m not a child. I’m all grown up. And you know it. You see it.”

Anakin sighs a long time, his eyes scanning down your body. “Of course, I see it. But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Though you can never overpower him, you still try to force the door open. “Just let me in. We can talk. Just let me talk to you.”

Anakin’s frown is firm, and his stillness enforces that he’s not backing down. “I don’t know. If I let you in… if you cry… I’ll want to hold you. Then things might happen. I don’t know if I can control myself around you.”

Hugging yourself, you gaze upwards, into eyes that finally meet yours. His eyes reveal his mourning, his grief, his lust. It’s the latter that sends shivers through your body. The knowing that he wants you is more than you can take.

“I don’t want you to.”

There.

You said it.

You have told him exactly what you want. And if you hadn’t made it painfully obvious before, he knows now that you’re no longer thinking like a little girl.

Following a sigh of defeat, he backs away from the door, and you move in.

All the lights are off in his home. He must have been sitting in the dark like a vampire. The piano lid is open. He never left it open unless he was actively playing.

Anakin strides across the room to seat himself on the piano bench. He taps the spot next to him. “You’re right.... We should talk. Talk. Nothing more.”

Sitting beside him here feels like the most natural thing in the world. Here, you’re not afraid to speak from the heart. He’d never judge you even if he disagrees. But you’re not so sure he disagrees this time.

He wants you too.

“I couldn’t let you go back. I can’t believe you drove in the rain.”

You shrug. “It’s just rain. The storm hasn’t—”

The windows flash like they would in a horror flick, and thunder comes after. With a whimper, you grab onto his arm.

“I can drive you back home once we talk,” he says emotionlessly, gently pulling you off him.

But you double down and grab his arm, tugging him back again. “Don’t push me away.”

He doesn’t do it again. He stills. And sighs. “That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

With your chin resting on his sleeve, you look up at him, wide-eyed. “Just kiss me like you always do. And don’t think about it.” You stretch your arm out and fiddle with the top button of his dress shirt. “I’m not thinking.”

His chest rises and falls with his breaths. He doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his shirt.

When you rise on your knees, you’re at eye level. He’s so much bigger than you even now. He makes you feel so small. Holding onto his arm, you lean close and peck his clean-shaven cheek. He winces as if you pricked him with a needle.

“Angel, I shouldn’t.”

You kiss him again, closer to his lips, almost tasting him. “It’s me. Don’t you want me?”

Finally, he turns and looks in your eyes. Then at your mouth. “Don’t tell anyone. You... understand how this might look. What they might say about—”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” you whisper. “What’s one more?”

You finish unbuttoning his shirt for him. Taking care of him feels good. You run your fingertips down his chest and his abdomen. His bare skin. It’s soft and warm. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist.

“Cold hands,” he murmurs. He takes your hands between them. He rubs his hands over your fast to warm them with friction.

“Sorry.”

Still rubbing your hands, he stands and leads you to the back of his grand piano near the flashing window.

Any other time, you would be trembling in fear because of the loud storm, but tonight you’re trembling because of the new feelings bubbling inside you. You’ve never been so aroused before.

“Can I hold you?” he says as pulls you into his embrace.

You can hear his steady heartbeat and feel it pumping right against your sensitive ear. Your piano teacher holds you against him and tangles his talented fingers in your hair. He sniffs your neck before taking a bite. His teeth pinch your flesh, and his tongue soothes you. The pain he leaves in several spots along your neck means that he’s marked you as his.

Your own heart is racing at lightning speed. You can’t think. In his arms, you’re helpless to his whims. You need him to tell you what to do. All you want is to please him.

“I’ll do anything,” you whisper to him so weakly you question if he hears you.

Anakin slowly unzips the back of your dress. “Consider this a teaching moment.” His voice doesn’t sound like it usually does. The undertones are sultry and possessive. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to—” He stops to pull down your dress, and his eyes wander over your pretty body. You wore transparent lace underwear and a matching bralette. He can see everything you hide from the rest of the world.

And he tells you, “You’re perfection.”

That makes you want to kiss him so badly. You try to lift yourself to reach his lips, but he’s too tall.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I want you to lay down first.” He guides you under the piano.

You lie down on your back atop the giant rug. Instantly, relaxation takes over as you remember all the times you used to lie here with him, hiding from the storm. Never did you think this would be the place where you’d give yourself to him. This must be meant to be.

He follows you after fully undressing. His body is every inch a man’s. His size makes you feel so small. He runs the risk of crushing you with his weight.

Lying on his side, he looks down at you, watching his own fingers running under the elastic of your lacy panties. “Take these off and spread your legs.” He whispers kisses to your cheek. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Nodding, you do as you’re told and wiggle out of your underwear. He snatches them from you and crunches them in his hands before throwing them over his shoulder. You proceed with fanning your legs open. The air is frigid as it touches you.

Anakin is looking where no one else has. “I’m so proud of you for waiting. Saving yourself just for me.”

You gasp as he kisses you between your legs. He kisses you there for a long time. It feels strange and wonderful. The feeling building inside you makes you moan and your toes curl. You feel so good your body aches. You hear your own heartbeat. You breathe but can’t find relief. Nothing soothes the need inside you but his mouth, his lips, his tongue. And before long you hit the breaking point, pleasure storming through your body from your place beneath him. Your cries are dampened by the thunderous sounds outside, but he hears you. He stops to look at your face. Making eye contact with him heightens the vulnerability of the situation. The intense way he looks at you burns. He notices every little change in your expression.

Anakin knows he made you feel good, but he still asks, “Did you like that?” He brushes the wild strands of hair away from your face. You know you’re precious to him. He sweetly kisses your forehead. “I like your taste.”

Your cheeks are seared by that comment. You cover your eyes, not wanting to let him see how he’s affecting you. “I did like it.”

“Do you want to do more?” He kisses your lips this time, and you taste yourself. “I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready!” you lift your head up and cup his cheek. “Don’t make me wait longer. I’m leaving tomorrow.” You bite your lip, knowing how dangerous what you’re about to say is because of who you’re saying it to. “Do you really want some college guy to be the one who gets me first?”

As if trying to reject the image you gave his mind, he closes his eyes and tightens his jaw. “No,” is his short answer. From the way his lips are pressed together, you know he wants to say more, but he’s saving you from his own selfish anger.

“Me either.” You rub his cheek with your thumb. “Anakin,” it feels right to call him by his first name instead of Mr. Skywalker, “I’ve waited for you. I always knew this would happen.”

He chuckles lightly. “I never gave you permission to use my name. Don’t forget—” he grunts as he slides two of his fingers between your slick folds and pushes them inside, “your manners, young one.”

These same fingers were the ones that rested atop yours when you were first learning to play piano. They pointed to the right key when you played the wrong note. They pointed to the sheet music to guide you along for all these years. They held your hands when they were cold.

And now he’s using them to teach you something new. But he’s just as skilled at fingering you as he is with music. You’re like his new instrument. He’s plucking all the right strings in just the right way to make you cry out for him. With your body pliant, he controls when you come. He doesn’t make you wait for it. He uses his thumb too and nudges until you come. It’s wetter than the last. And he instructs you to lick his fingers off when he’s done.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks again. “Don’t hate me for asking.” He hangs his head a little.

What he doesn’t understand is how insatiable he’s caused you to be. There were so many times you thought you might explode from how desperately you wanted him. But now it’s okay if that does happen.

“Keep going. Please,” you beg. You’re not ready to stop. You’ve waited for this moment since you were fourteen years old. If it were up to you, you’d live here forever.

“If that’s what you really want,” Anakin moves from lying at your side to settling himself between your legs.

“It is,” you reassure him. Holding onto his neck, you pull yourself up a bit. “Can you kiss me too?”

He grins before pushing you down, his large hand spread out over your soft stomach, and he chases your lips as you fall. You’re partially distracted by his mouth as his cock slides inside you. You had expected it to be more of a challenge, all things considered. Throughout high school, your friends always complained about how much it hurt their first time. Some girls bled too. And that had scared you, which is one of the reasons you never took Drew up on his many offers of a “good time.” Deep down you knew he wouldn’t treat you right. But Anakin clearly is experienced with having sex. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as you thought he had been all those years.

This being your very first time, it does sting when he fills you completely, his bony hips pressed against yours. You feel the tightness and the stretch. But you enjoy how it feels. You’re so close to passing out just because this is as close as you can get to someone.

Anakin rocks in and out slowly. Maybe he can feel that you’re tired. He’s being gentle with you despite how much he wants to rail your cunt to shreds. You can tell when he’s holding himself back. He has that weary, pained look in his rainy eyes. A part of you wants to tell him that it’s okay. Let go. But you both know that you couldn’t handle the full extent of his lust.

“Can I come inside you?” he asks before sinking his teeth into a bruise along your neck.

Short of breath, you answer, “I said... anything.”

“Okay,” his shaky voice whispers. He buries his face into the curve of your neck and moans your name into your skin. He pulls your hair gently as he finishes, his heat spreading through your core. It’s so much that you feel it leaking out.

After, he holds you there all night long. He doesn’t let you leave. And you wouldn’t want to escape.

The three words he says to you as you leave his house the morning after, you realize that he’s lied to you all the years you’ve known him.

The piano isn’t his only love or his only obsession.

It’s an outlet, and yet a mask for his sin nature which you understand more deeply than any other girl ever will.

He’s kept his real obsession hidden from everyone but you.

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

divine temptations | 222

you're such an angel, and i'm gonna hurt you

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

synopsis: after the meeting with the high council, anakin is imprisoned publicly to shame him. in his hatred for your guardian angels, he destroys them, causing chaos to overcome both heaven and earth.

w.c: 2.6k+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, heavy religious themes and imagery, inspiration taken from catholicism primarily, sexual themes, corruption kink, light sexualization of the reader as a nun, fem!reader & use of she/her pronouns, attempted sexual assault {mentioned}, rape {mentioned}

table of contents | 333 {coming soon}

The memories of his assault of your vessel were visceral and disturbing weeks after the event. Your neck was left bruised, and it ached for several days. Sometimes, you couldn’t sleep because every time you closed your eyes you were sent back to that moment where you were at your weakest, helpless against that tree. Almost raped. Almost.

Almost is a taunting thought

You believed that, since you hadn’t been defiled, you shouldn’t be bothered by the occurrence for long. You shouldn’t have these nightmares of being raped over and over again. You shouldn’t feel vulnerable. You would simply return to your beautiful life here at the convent, your sanctuary. A place where you never have felt unsafe or threatened in any way. You loved the women here, and they loved you.

The last time you were vulnerable like this was your past life when you were a part of the world, before you had found the monastic way of life. Never did you believe you would have to feel pain like this again.

Hatred lights the path of the fallen. But you hate that man for what he wanted to do to you. How could someone be so wicked?

And every time you thought of his face, you cried and sometimes wished for death. These were thoughts that haven’t scathed your mind since you entered the convent. But perhaps contact with that despicable man left you tainted. Maybe you needed to be cleansed and prayed over, bathed in the holy waters.

What other recourse did you have?

When you explained to your sisters why you required the service, they were more than happy to pray over you. They prepared the bath for you too. Sister Agnes remained with you the entire time to help guide your prayers. The water must have risen an inch from your tears. After the bath, Sister Agnes walked you back to your private chamber.

She broke into a sob. “Oh, my dear,” the elderly woman wiped her tears, “We shouldn’t have allowed you to go near the road alone.”

You drew her into a hug. Of course, they should have sent you with another. But all you could say to the heartbroken woman was, “Don’t worry about it. I feel much better now. Our Lord protected me.”

Sister Agnes cried harder when you said that. The new expression upon her wrinkled face was one of relief. She truly believed you. And you were happy that she would not share your pain.

You bid her goodnight and went inside your room to pray. When you wanted to feel closer to the Creator, you opened your window to let the moonlight in and knelt before your window seat, setting a pillow under your knees, a makeshift prayer bench. While it was not the proper way in which to address Him, you were not so sure He minded.

For the first few minutes, you sobbed, thanking Him for the lightning that only struck your assailant and not you. The electricity only touched your skin momentarily. It was as if there had been a barrier between you and Death. You should have both died from the lightning, but only that man did. The miraculous occurrence saved you from an even greater pain.

But the thought did little to comfort you. Why you? What made you so special that you deserved a supernatural rescue and so many others didn’t? The thing that should have brought you to your knees in gratitude and praise of your savior made you... question everything, including how heavenly justice worked?

Although, the whole incident could have been some cosmic joke.

And despite spending the whole day in prayer with your sisters, you felt the same. You were still terrified about what happened. So much so that sleep was an impossible feat. During all your time at the convent prior to the horrific event, you embraced solitude and found contentment. But this night, you wouldn’t have hated companionship, someone to hold you tight and tell you that you were safe here.

“You can’t say that, Anakin! Do you understand the gravity of this situation? Do you?” Obi-Wan had never shown his anger so outwardly before. Anger marked his brow, his furious stare, his clenched jaw, and his haunting tone.

Anakin could sense his fear, despite the rage his friend used to hide it. They both understood that what Anakin had done was enough to have him sent to hell for all eternity. Their father was not so lenient of the angelic hosts as he was of humans. The humans were free to sin, and forgiveness was offered to them at every turn. And yet somehow, they still missed the chance to ascend to the heavenly realms. Most chose to trade their vaporous lives for eternity. And the Creator allowed it because of free will.

“But it’s true, Obi-Wan. There’s nothing you can do,” Anakin said emotionlessly. The chains of light were clamped tightly round his ankles, keeping him grounded. Nothing can break them except for the Creator’s Will.

He was chained to the platform right outside the chambers of the High Council, like he was an animal on display. And to the rest of the heavenly host, Anakin was a creature of anomaly. Seraphim were respected for their unbreakable devotion to Him above all else, yet Anakin wished for nothing more than to leave his place of honor. He wanted to be able to visit the Earth realms. He wanted to seduce you.

“I will try to change his mind,” Obi-Wan said to him with all hope. “He is more understanding than you give him credit for.”

With that, Obi-Wan disappeared. His wings were so quick that he moved almost at light’s speed. And Anakin was alone again in his humiliation. But he didn’t mind because now he could give you all his attention. He watched you as he always did. But this time he was not pleased by what he saw.

Never had he seen you so unhappy. He’d never witnessed you cry for anything but joy. The visions you saw in your sleep. You believed they were nightmares, but he saw the demons torturing your mind as clearly as he could see you below. Your good-for-nothing guardians were evidently too busy to cast them away. Anakin would do that for you, but he was in a bad place as it was. Interfering with your life again wouldn’t be prudent. If the Creator did not eliminate him, Obi-Wan certainly would. So, this time, he did as he should, and he merely observed from a distance, watching you cry your eyes out and writhe in pain only felt by your spirit.

The more he watched the heavier his own spirit weighed. If your guardians had served you faithfully, then you wouldn’t be left understandably traumatized from the event. It was almost too hard for him to watch you this way. But he couldn’t leave you alone like this. Even if you didn’t know he was there. He couldn’t let you out of his sight.

And as your pain grew deeper, so did his hate for those who failed in their calling to protect you. Unlike the other angels, Anakin struggled to contain his hate. No one who harmed you was free of his wrath. Certainly not your guardian angels.

The heavens erupted into chaos. Anakin had lost himself to his own wrath. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. He had been punished for saving you from being violated, and those who failed in their duty to protect you were left completely unscathed. And for someone who already, secretly despised the entire heavenly host and whose hatred was like a forgotten thorn in one’s side festering for ages, obliterating your five guardians in one hailstorm of fiery rage was as simple as taking a breath for him.

Instantly, he was reprimanded by the Creator directly. In a single moment, ejected from the heavenly realms, banished to dwell upon Earth until the end of time. Hell, where he would now spend eternity, was his final destination. The mercy of the Creator saved him from being sent there first. Earth was to be his Sheol, a temporary hell.

But did they forget that his interests lie only with you. Did they fail to notice that this might be what he wanted all along? Even if he only had until the end of time with you, he knew that it would be worth it. Though you were unaware at this time, nothing would keep him from you. The laws of heaven no longer applied to him. He was free to torment the earthly beings, though that wasn’t nearly as alluring as possessing you.

Banished from Heaven and sent to Earth, he lost his heavenly title, and his name was written among the fallen. He kept his beauty in full, but now as an angel of light. And despite having wanted this to happen, being reprimanded so heavily over what he saw as the right thing to do irked him. And the pain that he felt you living through as a result of your guardians’ inadequacy ignited his fury in ways devastating to the Earth.

His rage awoke nature’s spirits. Thunder, Lightning, Rain, and Hail terrorized the inland villages. He disrupted the seas, wreaking havoc on coastal cities, leaving them destroyed in his wake. And nothing was put in place to stop him.

The voices of the High Council rang in his ears as they pleaded with him to end his madness. But Anakin was drunk on power, the lack of restraint he now possessed, for the fallen were given domain over the Earth for a time of unknown length. He didn’t believe in redemption. His thought was why not enjoy it here. The earthly realms were to be his last Heaven.

For weeks, the destruction by Anakin’s fury continued.

Obi-Wan was sent to stop and contain him. But Obi-Wan believed, perhaps foolishly, that Anakin’s heart could be changed.

The cherub appeared before him, glory to glory, withholding nothing. And yet the majesty of the fallen one was still unmatched.

“You know why I am here,” Obi-Wan announced, wielding his fiery blade, directing its point to the enemy.

Anakin could not cower in the presence of the threatening blade. That was beneath him. “Do I?”

“Given more time, Earth and its surrounding realms will be destroyed. This lust for power has consumed you.”

He was not blind to his own faults. But under his own authority, he could do as he pleased. Destroying this realm would be good. Nothing good has come from mankind. Not in his eyes. From his view, he could see the suffering humans enacted upon each other and upon the Earth, the very thing which provides them life. The only good in this world was you. And he had plans to sweep you away. Far away.

“The one that you love. You’re going to kill her. She will hate you.”

Anakin gave him a biting glare. If Obi-Wan knew... then that meant so did He. And the rest of Heaven. “I’d never hurt her. I can see her now. She’s sleeping. She doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“What do you think will happen when you destroy her life? Everything and everyone she cares for? You don’t think that would hurt her?”

“Obi-Wan, you have no idea! Did you see what happened to her? What almost happened? I live through her pain. I want to save her from evil. Can you not understand?”

The cherub refused to back down. His blade was still held high. “This is not up for debate. I have been sent to put an end to your insanity one way or another.”

Anakin smiled wickedly. “Oh... by killing me?”

“That depends on you, my friend.”

Anakin did not understand.

“Our Father wishes to offer you a deal. He has changed his mind on your punishment. But...” Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head, “only if you put an end to your anger now. It is not the Creator’s Will for the Earth to be done away with yet.”

In order to declare his interest, Anakin immediately paused his merciless pillaging of the surface. “I am listening.”

In return, Obi-Wan sheathed his blade of fire. “He knows how strongly you care for this human.” His voice was coated with disgust for the lesser being. “He knows exactly what she means to you and what you’re willing to give up for her. In his divine grace, He is willing to make an exchange with you. Give up your dominion over this realm, and he’ll allow you to be her guardian, though not an angel. But your eternal status, depends on how well you serve her.”

This offer was... merciful.

Beyond what Anakin knew he deserved. Not only was he being offered a chance for redemption, but he was being offered the one thing he craved most in the entire universe. As your guardian, he would have unbridled access to you and your beautiful mind. At his discretion, he could even appear to you, making his existence known to you.

Being known by you...

The thought of that was more than even he could process in all of his great understanding.

He was used to being veiled from you completely. Contact had been forbidden. But with this offer, you would be in his grasp. He could travel between dimensions and allow his glory to be witnessed by your perfect gaze. Anakin could not stop his curiosity at what it might feel like to be seen by you. Would he prefer it? Or would he dislike the contact? His intuition whispered that he would like it very much and that he might even find it addicting.

How could he say no?

“I... accept.”

Obi-Wan did seem surprised in the slightest. “I see. I will inform Him of your decision. You will feel weakened very soon. I understand that... you wanted this. But I don’t understand why. You-you, Anakin, held the position of the highest honor. Why would—”

“I never wanted any of it. I wanted to be free to pursue my singular interest.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I would be cautious in your new role, Anakin. More than ever before. Because this is a test. Did you believe that you were truly going to get everything you wanted without a cost? If you serve her faithfully all her life, an eternity with us is yours. But the temptations you will face as her guardian, I’m not sure you can handle it.”

“What?” Anakin spat. “Protecting a human is practically a mindless affair. That’s why it’s given to the lowest of all angels.”

“Realize that even that group is superior to where you stand currently,” he added humorously.

“I won’t be able to physically harm humans in this form. So, don’t worry. I won’t kill anyone.”

“That was not the temptation I was referring to.”

Anakin realized what his friend meant. So he quipped, “Lust is a human feeling.”

“Is it?”

“What do you mean, is it?” Anakin said mockingly.

“Do not be quick to assume anything. You’ve never been in the earthly realms before. It’s much different. You may find yourself desiring things that seemed unnatural to you before.” Obi-Wan turned, signaling his departure. “Remember the laws of Heaven. Despite your fallen state, if you wish for eternity in Heaven, where she will most certainly end up, you must abide by our laws.”

Eternity in Heaven with the one he craves. There was hardly a better fate in mind even if he never ascended to the honor he once claimed.

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

cashmere, cologne, & white sunshine | 𝟙

money is the anthem, god, you're so handsome

dilf!finnick x nanny!reader

synopsis: you arrive at the odair estate for your final interview with finnick's mother mrs. odair. when she offers you the job on the spot, you're so surprised. quickly, you learn that the children might be a challenge for you, but finnick's support and kindness is enough to cheer you on. it seems he even wants to get close to you...

w.c: 2.7k

highlights: {minors dni} extreme wealth, nepotism, children & childcare, flirting, a hint of suggestive content near the end, slow burn romance, power imbalance

table of contents | 𝟚 {coming soon}

You had never considered yourself to be the kind of person who falls for their employer. Not even coworkers. Out of the myriad jobs you picked up here and there to finance college and now grad school, never once did you develop romantic feelings in a professional setting.

But the Odair Estate... is an experience, one dreamed up by a romance novelist with its white rose greenhouse, angel water fountains, and vintage cars. And inside, gold and marble, crystal chandeliers, and winding staircases. And yet the majesty of the home could never blot out the brilliance that surrounds the man who resides here. In your gaze, a halo of light outlines his silhouette. You can’t be the only one who sees it.

He draws you into this fantasy world. A world of sweet pleasure and romance.

Finnick Odair draws you to his arms, to his lips, to his love—all so effortlessly.

“Smith! Come here! You’re going to get jelly all over the furniture!” A handsome man half-dressed, only in a pair of khaki slacks, sprints down the stairs to chase after a small blonde boy with a smear of grape jelly across his cheeks and hands.

You couldn’t help but steal a glance, even during your interview, when you heard the low, melody of his voice. You see the urgency upon his sharpened features as he dashes after the boy, Smith, you assume, who looks to be four years old. Smith leads the chase into the parlor where you are being interviewed.

The greying woman, Mrs. Odair, across from you almost lunges from her loveseat to capture the tiny boy between her two delicate arms. She picks up the child in her arms and seats him on her lap. On the side table is a box of tissues, and she recruits several to wipe the sticky jelly off his face.

“Smith,” she scolds lovingly, “Nana is talking. You are being quite rude. Did you even say hello?”

Smith crosses his arms and pouts his lips, blowing air through them. He looks at you with these big, bright-green eyes surrounded by thick, doll-like lashes, finally acknowledging your presence.

“Hi,” Smith sighs.

“Hello,” you say back.

His nana grounds him, though holding onto his shirt as he tries to scamper away. “Be good!”

A manly laugh to your left startles you. “Smith isn’t interested, Mom.”

You gaze over your shoulder to watch the man crouch down to his son’s level. “Come now, Smith. You have to get ready for school. I’m already late for work!”

Nana snorts. “Finnie, Daddy understands!”

He gives her, who you assume is his mother, a firm glare. Then he looks to you and smiles. You like his crooked teeth. He offers his hand, and you shake. “I’m Finnick. Thank you for coming to interview with us.” His hand is a little calloused but very warm and very strong.

“Thank you for having me,” you say back, on autopilot because ever since he stepped in, the rest of the world, including your own thoughts, have faded into the background.

He smiles again. “Of course. I typically would be a part of the process, but I’ve got to take Smith and Ruby to school now.” He waves. “Nice to meet you.”

He turns to his mother and mouths something to her with the same smile on his face. You wonder if it’s about you. And you wonder if it’s something nice. You haven’t exactly done anything to offend them... yet.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say a little too late because he’s already walking away with his back turned. You doubt he hears you.

Once Finnick and Smith are upstairs, Mrs. Odair looks back down at her clipboard and continues the interview. Your background is flawless of course. The agency cleared you. You’ve yet to have a single encounter with the law, though you speed often when you’re late to work. To Mrs. Odair, you explain why you are interested in the job, how you need to save up for graduate school for next year’s applications. She seems impressed with your academic successes and your determination to pursue higher education.

While the interview went well, you didn’t expect a job offer on the spot. As you got up to leave, you step over to shake her hand, and she says, “You are taking the job, right?”

The next day you drive back to the estate to begin. Mrs. Odair promised to show you the ropes of taking care of her two precious grandchildren Smith and Ruby the first week of your employment. And you were glad she did that first day. Smith, who you learn is five years old, is more than a handful. Ruby is eight and loves only her daddy.

You park your dated Prius—the paint has finally begun to flake off—on the stone road between the three-tiered fountain and the concrete pathway to the manor. At the door, you rang the bell once, and the butler answered.

He says, “Good day, Miss,” and he shows you to Mrs. Odair’s room.

She’s sipping tea and reading the paper. When she notices your arrival, she stands to greet you. The butler disappears without a sound. It’s impressive.

“So glad you are here. And so punctual!”

“Of course,” you say. Never would you show up late on the first day. “I studied the children’s schedules you sent over last night.”

She claps her hands twice. “Marvelous, dear! When do the children need to leave the house for school?”

Put on the spot, you shift a little. Geez, she’s testing me already.

“Seven-forty-five at the latest. But preferably seven-thirty.”

She smiles. “Good job! We should probably wake the children now. I’ll go up with you today. Wouldn’t want to scare them.”

“You did tell them that I would be here today, right?”

Caught up in her own musings, Mrs. Odair must miss your question because she starts to ramble on about the greenhouse as you leave her guest room. She tells you she’s only staying here for a while because the old nanny quit. There’s bitterness in her tone as she mentions the former employee, and you wonder what exactly happened.

On your way to the stairs, you catch a glimpse of Finnick alone at the dining table for breakfast. He’s also reading the paper like his mother did. His brow is furrowed as he reads. It’s a mystery what he finds so interesting on that paper. He’s so oddly invested.

The stairs creak on your first step, and he looks up from the paper. His smile is immediate and dazzling. “Mother!” he calls. “You didn’t tell me she was here.”

Mrs. Odair rushes into the dining room. “Darling, I didn’t want to interrupt your morning routine.”

Finnick rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ah yes.” He waits for a moment and says, “I haven’t had a routine since the moment Ruby was born, Mother.”

She shrugs. “Maybe with this beauty’s help, you’ll have one.” Mrs. Odair pats your shoulder. “Come along. The children are slow to rise.”

As she drags you along, you can’t help but look at Finnick. He’s ungodly pretty. It almost hurts to look at him. And you find it strange that he’s looking back at you with a vivid curiosity. You chide yourself for ogling him like that. One, he’s sky-high out of your league. Two, he’s employed you. Three, he might not be single. Usually, the second reason to not crush on him would be enough. But your previous bosses have never looked like Finnick.

As you ascend the stairs, the walls are covered in family photographs. They’re clearly arranged by the time they were taken. When you arrive at the second floor, the photos are black and white. Mrs. Odair moves fast for someone her age, and you’re panting as you try to keep up with her. Your vision is slightly blurry when you reach the top.

“Smith’s room is...” she pauses, staring at you, clearly expecting you to recall from the floor plan of the house she also sent you along with their schedules.

You close your eyes for a moment. “First door on the left?”

She claps for you. “Such a smart girl!”

You smile, unsure how to respond to such a compliment.

Entering Smith’s room, the thick curtains are closed, and it’s because of the seashell nightlight that you can see at all. The boy is lying on his stomach on top of all the bed sheets but his head at the wrong end.

“Smith,” his nana calls.

Easily, Smith wakes. He rubs his eyes and sits up. He stares at you for a long time.

“Who’s she?” he asks, pointing right at your face with his tiny index finger.

“This is your new nanny. Isn’t she lovely?” Mrs. Odair gushes about you. Her support is endearing. But you’d be lying if you didn’t find it disconcerting.

Smith crosses his arms. “No!”

“Isn’t she pretty!” Mrs. Odair exclaims to Smith.

“I miss Herbie. Bring him back!” Smith shrieks. “I don’t like her.”

Wrinkled hands on her hips, Mrs. Odair hangs her head in momentary defeat. “Smith, I am so disappointed. You are being very rude.”

The child crosses his arms and sticks his tongue out.

She grasps your forearm. “I’m sorry about Smith. I promise he will come around.” She moves around to his bureau. “I can show you where his uniforms are and the proper way to dress him.”

You watch the elderly woman chase Smith around the room for a minute or two without breaking a sweat. She finally snatches him up in her arms and holds him down on the bed. He restlessly wiggles, trying to get away, but she is strong. Somehow, she manages to dress Smith and she scolds him for behaving dramatically.

“Smith, Daddy will be very, very upset when he hears of your actions.” He remains unfazed, as if discipline is a foreign concept to him. “Now, go down for breakfast.”

When his nana opens the bedroom door, he sprints out like a racehorse. You blink and he is gone.

Mrs. Odair turns to you again and sighs. “He’s a handful. Just like his father.”

“It’s quite alright. He won’t be my first difficult case. I just hope he warms up to me. My last family never did.”

“That’s wonderful for us. We desperately needed a nanny!”

Promptly, she leaves with sudden, passionate intent. And you follow her anxiously.

“What happened to the last one?” you ask.

“Ruby is much easier than Smith,” she halts at a room near the end of the second-floor hallway.

Just when you think that she didn’t hear your question, she says, “We do not speak of him.”

Stomach dropping, you step back and swallow. “Oh. Oh, please forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend.”

She scoffs. “He’s not worthy of a mention.” Mrs. Odair quickly breaks into her granddaughter’s room, as if to escape the topic.

Ruby’s room is a true girl’s room. You hardly step past the entrance before you are frozen over in wonder.

Cherry red must be Ruby’s favorite color. Everything is cherry red. The armchair by the column window is topped with cherry red velvet. There are red roses on each nightstand. Her headboard matches the armchair. The curtains match too. Her frilly duvet stands out in ivory lace embroidered with clusters of little cherries.

Ruby’s long red hair fans out over her pillows. She’s a sleeping angel. And you hate to see Mrs. Odair wake her.

Her brown eyes flutter open when her nana taps her on the shoulder. She looks up and her freckled lips smile widely.

“Good morning,” she whispers and stretches. Quickly, she notices you and sits up to talk. “What’s your name?” She has the slightest hint of an English accent.

You reply, hesitantly inching closer to the bed.

Mrs. Odair gets in the way of your conversation, picking up her granddaughter to dress her. She’s eight years old. By this time, you were responsible for dressing yourself for school.

In a few minutes, she dresses Ruby in her private school uniform. Together, you all go downstairs to fetch Smith, and then Mrs. Odair takes them outside to the car where the driver will escort them to school. Once the children leave, Mrs. Odiar pulls you aside to discuss your other duties while the children are away.

Rummaging through the cabinets is not how you planned to spend your afternoon, but you were told to treat the estate just like you would your home. It’s completely new territory to you, much like a castle with so many secrets you’ve yet to uncover. Today, you’re only trying to find the tea. A cup would do you well. Your thoughts have been a little more unorganized than usual. There’s much you must learn about Mrs. Odair’s standards for childcare. She seems to be more involved than the father, which bothers you.

“Left door. Top shelf.”

You glance over your shoulder.

There he is. Smith and Ruby’s father. You scold yourself for already having an opinion about him. You haven’t even known him for a day.

“Excuse me?”

He smiles. “The tea.”

You can’t think to respond in an intelligible way. How’d he know you were looking for the tea?

“Make me a cup while you’re at it.” He looks at you steadily. “If you don’t mind.”

Pulling the correct cabinet open, you see the boxes of tea neatly stacked on top of each other. You select a black tea and pour boiling water over the bags in porcelain mugs. They steep for four minutes.

You pick at your cuticles and glance out the window. Finnick sits at the table on his laptop, typing frantically.

Once the timer goes off, you walk over to the table to hand him his cup of tea. He doesn’t immediately register your action, but when he does, he offers you the biggest smile.

“Thank you. I do appreciate it.” He closes the lid to his laptop and pushes back the chair next to him away from the table with his foot. “Sit. I would like to get to know you.”

Shaking ever so slightly, you situate yourself beside him. He smells of luxury cologne, too expensive for your tastes. In your previous jobs with the agency, the families never were too interested in developing a personal relationship with you.

Finnick rests his chin on an open palm. “You’re really a lifesaver. Work has been a nightmare, and with Herbie gone... I’ve had to also look after Smith and Ruby more.”

For a moment, you narrow your eyes in judgement.

“Before you form opinions about me, let me say, they are my greatest joys. However, working a job that requires eighty plus hours in a week and two kids isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

You set your cup down before you. “Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

Finnick massages his brows. “That’s an understatement. Dad won’t be around forever. I’m to take over the family business. I’m planning to make a lot of changes when that happens. For Smith and Ruby’s sake. They might not want this.” Finnick quickly covers his mouth. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

You shrug. “I think I might understand. You want them to have a choice.”

Finnick nods. “Don’t tell my mother. You’d get me in trouble.”

You laugh together.

“Snitches get stitches.”

Finnick laughs again. “And disciplined.” He hides his expression as he takes a sip of tea.

Though you don’t quite know what he means by that, you laugh at him anyway. “I don’t think Smith likes me very much.”

“He doesn’t like many people. He’s like me in that regard.” Finnick looks at you. “But I know that if you stick around his feelings will change.”

“I hope that’s true.”

He leans close to you. Your senses are suddenly overwhelmed with his fragrance and his golden warmth. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

You giggle. “What?”

“Smith likes anyone who will play hide-and-seek with him. That and chocolate chip cookies are the way to his heart.” Finnick pats you on the shoulder. His hands are massive. “Besides, I’m on your side. I’ll put in a good word.” He winks at you, and your heart drops in your chest.

This is... bad. You really shouldn’t be having these feelings for your employer. But his charming nature is hard to resist. He must have lots of girlfriends.

“Thanks,” you whisper, too caught up in your own worries to recognize that he’s flirting with you.

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loveliestlovelygirl · 2 months

Text

cashmere, cologne, & white sunshine

it was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight

dilf!finnick x nanny!reader

series synopsis: after the death of his beloved wife, finnick has embraced the role of single dad with two kids. he works full time at odair corp., a shipbuilding company that has been owned by his family for seven generations and made them millionaires. having lived in extravagance his whole life, he has few worries. however, finding a nanny to take care of his children while he's at work or sailing has been one of them. but he remains hopeful that you might be what he's been looking for... in ways that even he is unprepared for.

series warnings: {minors dni} classism, extravagant lifestyles, private jets, extreme wealth, nepotism, slow burn romance, power imbalance, sexual content

table of contents:

𝟙 | 𝟚 | 𝟛 | 𝟜 | 𝟝

#divider by xiaoswrld #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #dilf!finnick #finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick smut #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #thg finnick #the hunger games finnick #finnick x you #finnick x y/n

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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months

Text

one of his girls

finnick odair x gn!reader

synopsis: stuck in a long elevator ride with finnick odair himself, he promises to save you a dance at the capitol party. with him, you become the center of attention instantly. the guests watch in envy, most of them wishing they were you. but finnick has his own motives for his pursuit of you.

w.c: 2.2K+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, implied sex trafficking, alcohol, capitol party, social hierarchy, sexual content, lack of aftercare

Finnick’s suit jacket is navy but darker. Something like a midnight blue. The fabric is shiny, so shiny that you can faintly see your reflection on his bicep.

“Pretty.”

Startled that he would speak to you or even notice that you were standing beside him. You are a nobody compared to him. “T-thank you,” you stutter. His voice is enticing in a way. Not deep. But unapologetically masculine and yet soft at the same time. It haunts you. Any reply you could fathom would be but nonsense.

He chuckles. His smile is big. “Oh, I meant my suit.”

Suddenly, the elevator you are riding in together seemed even smaller. You can’t escape your embarrassment. It suffocates you entirely. Completely mortified by your assumption, you hang your head to hide your building tears. Why do I have to be such an idiot!

The hundreds of people at the party above would kill to be in this elevator with him. And you choose to act a fool.

When Finnick turns your way, you glance up just enough to really view his outfit. His shirt is made from a sheer black fabric, and his jacket is left open. You can see every ripple along his abdomen. You curse yourself for noticing.

“You are too though.” He leans down a bit to meet your eyes. “I just like this suit, don’t you?”

“Yes, it… becomes you.”

Finnick gives you a satisfied smirk. “Ah, my first compliment of the night.”

You cover your mouth to laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be drowning in them by the end.”

“If only that weren’t true,” he notes, leaning against the back wall. “It’s hard being loved by all.”

You laugh again. While everyone goes on and on about his incomparable beauty, they’ve never mentioned his humorous side. But you wonder if maybe there is some truth to his statement. Maybe he doesn’t like being in the limelight so often. He’s always a main attraction at Capitol parties. Everyone tries to go home with him.

You admire Finnick’s makeup. The coal liner that brings out his green eyes. And the gold flecks on his pink cheeks, matching his golden hair. “You really do look pretty, Finnick,” you say to him.

He nods. “I have to. The scandal I would cause if I were underdressed. You know me, always the attention whore.” He says that with a hint of disgust that maybe he didn’t intend for your ears.

The elevator comes to a stop before you have a chance to ask what he meant by that. Finnick waves to you.

“I’ll save you a dance, darling.”

Everyone fiercely fights for Finnick’s attention through the batting of eyelashes, assaulting him with compliments, and insincere kisses to his golden cheeks. You watch him accept their adoration with gracious elegance that only he has. When they flirt with him, he flirts back flawlessly, without skipping a beat. From this outside view it seems to come so naturally to him. It looks like he thrives when he’s adored. Most people wouldn’t know how to handle the attention. They would suffocate from the weight of it all. But not Finnick Odair. You figure he’s seen so much in his life that nothing phases him. Nothing at all.

While he’s in the center of the room, you draw near to the sidelines. You nibble at the food and sip white wine. Finnick has been too busy the entire night entertaining guests that he has no time for enjoying a meal. You hope he ate before.

From the dessert bar, you watch him dancing with a loudly dressed man with green hair. The way their bodies move together is fluid. Finnick can dance. In fact, he’s very skilled with the way he controls his partner all in the rhythm of the music. Perhaps your envy causes you to avert your gaze, and you walk around to the opposite side of the bar so that you no longer have to watch. You know that your encounter in the elevator meant nothing to Finnick. His calling you pretty means nothing. He flirts with everyone he can.

You lose yourself to chocolate and your self-effacing thoughts. And you don’t notice when he sneaks up behind you. When Finnick’s hand touches your shoulder, you nearly jump.

“Hello, Finnick,” you mutter, not turning to look at his face.

“I noticed you were watching me.”

You shrug. “Everyone was. He seems… fun.”

“I don’t care about everyone.” He steps around you and wedges himself between you and the bar. “Are you…” he leans in, staring at you suspiciously, “jealous?”

“Of him?” you balk at his presumptuousness. “You—”

“He’s obsessed with me,” Finnick scoffs. “And I hate him. But…” his lips ghost your ear, “he’s close to our beloved president.” He steps away from you after he says that. “But that’s just between you and me.”

A little stunned that he would share a private detail of his affairs with you, you’re caught at a loss for words. “I have no one to tell.”

His fingers slip between yours. “Don’t you? You frequent these gatherings.”

Quickly, you remove your hand from his. “My mother insists that I make an appearance. She’s working on marital arrangements for me as we speak.”

Finnick nods. “I see. I suppose it was a little self-assured for me to believe you came for me.”

“Plenty do.”

Turning his face toward the crowd, he watches them dance and laugh, drink and eat. “It’s true. They know they might get something from me.”

“Your reputation precedes you.”

He looks back to you and centers his gaze upon your eyes. “You don’t act like them. You don’t gorge yourself on extravagant pleasures as they do. You’re not from the Capitol, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m from a lesser district. I was adopted.”

“I pity you. You would have been better off back home.” Finnick reaches behind you and grabs a drink. He leans back to swallow. “I count down the days until I can go back to mine. But… it’s uncertain when I will be allowed to go back.”

You look at him quizzically. “Allowed?”

He smiles cheekily, acknowledging that you heard him correctly. He means for you to know that. “You should dance with me,” he says, abruptly changing the subject. He grabs your wrist with his big hand, his grip so strong that you could never overpower his might. His strength is god-like, a formidable weapon in a fight. But with you… he uses his strength gently.

There is no use denying him his wishes. Finnick pulls you along to the middle of the dance floor where you both quickly become the center of attention. The faces that never bothered to give you a second glance are staring at you unashamedly. But it’s all because of the man who holds you in his arms.

They’re jealous of you… for once.

Finnick leads you in the dance, both arms about your waist and holding you close to him. His cologne warms your senses. His scent is potent and tempting, and you only wish to get closer to him. But with where you stand right now, that’s quite impossible without taking off all your clothes.

You hold onto his neck as you sway to the beat of melody filling the room. He moves your body in time with his. You follow his lead completely. Being in the spotlight magnifies every flaw you can conceive of for everyone to see and tease you for. The blinding light of Finnick’s stardom no doubt makes it worse. No one looks pretty standing beside him.

You press your face against his suit jacket to hide yourself. You can’t take it anymore, looking all around the room and seeing all those judgmental expressions directed toward you. Holding onto Finnick keeps your grounded. He makes you feel safe. As you dance you begin to understand why so many obsess over his attention. Regardless of whether or not it is genuine, it feels that way. Every touch, every look feels real. And it makes you crave more. More of him. And it’s disgusting how quickly he’s made you harbor lustful feelings towards him.

Every time he looks down at you with his mesmerizing gaze, he gives you fuck me eyes. Every single time.

Like now.

You pull at the collar of his jacket and giggle. “Finnick… you can’t look at me like that.”

He lifts your chin. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” His tone is playfully cautious.

“You might make me fall—” you stop, shaking your head, backing away one step to put distance between your bodies.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. Tonight. I’m all yours.” He pulls you back in a spin, leans in close to your ear, lips grazing. “A favor you might… repay one day.”

“What kind of favor are you asking for?” You can’t believe you’re considering his offer. But there’s something about him. How can you resist the pull? You’re only human.

“I know who you are. I know you have a house in your district 7. I need a haven and transportation to the location. Until the storm blows over.” Finnick tells you these things with a big smile on his face.

“Storm? What storm?”

“I’m leaving the capitol. Very soon. You’re the last piece of the puzzle.”

You laugh at him as if he’s crazy. “Why would you want to leave the Capitol, Finnick? You can have everything you want.”

He turns serious for a moment. “I don’t want everything. I just want to go home. I have a connection in your district.”

“Okay,” you say. “I can make arrangements for you.”

Pulling you in closer, Finnick’s eyes drift over your lips. “So shall we head upstairs?”

You interlace your fingers in his and give him a nod. This is not how you expected the evening to turn out. Not at all. Your little interaction with Finnick in the elevator wasn’t meant to lead to this. But he pursued you… and his reasons are clear to you now.

When you’re alone with him in one of the upstairs rooms designated for illicit activities, you look around the four walls that surround you. You’re here while they’re stuck beneath you. You’re where the rest of them long to be.

Alone with Finnick Odair.

He pours you a drink and brings it to you. You sip at the sour liquid while he watches you.

“Look into my eyes, sweetheart.” He’s looking into yours, his irises almost as dark as emeralds in the dim lighting. Rolling back his shoulders, his suit jacket hits the floor. You see his skin through his sheer shirt. You’re sure that’s the point of it. He wants people to look at his body.

It worked on you. Easily.

Under the glitzy chandelier, crystal droplets catch the light and enhance his glow. Finnick slowly reveals himself to you, undressing to please you. The darkness in his eyes is alluring, and it draws you to him. The low lights, the incense burning, and the alcohol in your hand are meant to seduce you, as if having Finnick all to yourself is somehow not enough.

His expensive clothes are left behind when he approaches you. His long arm pulls you close, and he holds you against him, his body warm and comforting.

“My drink,” you say, “it spilled.”

Finnick takes the glass from your hand and drinks what’s left. His adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He tosses the glass somewhere, and it lands in a crash.

“Someone will clean that up,” he notes, taking both your hands and leading you across the room. “Just focus on your desires.” He grins ear to ear. “Focus on me.”

With the way he looks tonight, that’s the easiest thing in the whole world. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you throw yourself into his arms, and Finnick gracefully catches you. And for the first time, you share a kiss with him, two worlds colliding for a moment and an eternity all at once. You feel hazy in wonder. The maneuvering of his mouth pulls and demands the greatest pleasure from you. Never have you been kissed this way before. From the rumors you have heard, few rival Finnick Odair as a lover.

Together, you collapse on the sofa, your body on top of his, your lips never breaking contact. You kiss him all over his face, leaving lipstick prints on his cheeks and forehead. Finnick turns swiftly and pulls you under him, holding you down with his bodyweight and warmth. His skin against yours feels so right somehow, despite the situation. The excitement sparks across your skin, every place he touches with his hands, his fingers, and his mouth as he sucks on the pulse point of your neck.

He unzips the back of your outfit and traces down the ridges on your spine. At the same time, you pause to gaze into the other’s eyes. In that moment, you know you’re thinking the same thing, and soon you find yourself tangled in silken bedsheets.

You’re naked under him. This is the first time you’ve been intimate with someone you barely know. But you feel safe with him. He’s gentle, warming you up first before he truly makes a move. It’s skin on skin, two beating hearts, nails digging into flesh and leaving red marks. The echoes of his smooth voice reverberating in your ears, over and over. Over and over. When he’s inside you, you suddenly discover an insatiable side to your own desires. Passion takes over your body, and you can’t get enough of him and the little freak he’s unraveling in your soul.

The bed shakes and creaks, and in a fleeting glance, you look out from under him, you wondering if the pictures on the wall would crash down over you.

You grasp at his skin, the sheets, the headboard, in attempt to hold out, to let this last a little longer. To enjoy him because it’s unlikely that, once he makes his escape, you’ll see him again. Not like this, at least.

You cry when it hits. That rush, crashing into you like a wave. Finnick backs off soon after, giving you space. You’re not even sure if he felt the same.

You lie there for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling. And eventually he leaves you without another word or loving touch. You know that this was all a favor, but you can’t help but fall a little for him. Everyone does.

But you’re just one of his girls. A means to an end.

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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months

Text

divine temptations | 111

say yes to heaven, say yes to me

fallenangel!anakin x nun!reader | lore 🪽 | playlist

synopsis: anakin, a seraph, has lost himself to his obsession of you. with every moment he can, he watches over you as you attend to your daily duties around the convent. and day by day his desire grows. when your guardian angels fail to protect you, anakin believes he has no choice but to intervene, breaking numerous heavenly laws in the process.

w.c: 2.2k+

table of contents | 222

The crux of his obsession began with your voice. Harmonious and pure. Passionate and sweet. The soft vibrato and splendid timbre of your voice could be heard above all the clatter from the realms of Earth. The melodies you sang haunted him from the rise of the sun to the white shadow of the moon. And while he needed not sleep, he found no rest as he smoldered in his selfish desires for you. After he had fulfilled his duties for that day, when he was alone, he remained perched in the Heavens watching over you, drowning in the beauty of your voice, and lusting for your human touch.

His name was Anakin. And day after day he watched you, wishing he could descend to the realm which held your precious life. But that was a boundary that he was forbidden to cross. He was confined to be a guardian of the Heavens, not of Earth. To him, it was a cruel, cruel fate. Watching you from above, lightyears of distance between your realities, was as close to you as he was permitted.

An angel of his status, chosen to protect the thrones of the deity, a seraph, should give no eye to the realms beneath him nor find solace in the voice of human girl. The way that you had captivated him was unnatural and unholy. If anyone found out he entertained himself with you, he might be marked with shame by the highest councils, until he repented publicly. Though he might never obtain such a position as his ever again. As it were, he found himself considering these things, as if shame might be a solution to making contact with you.

He'd prefer to be your guardian angel than a guardian of his own father. He wanted to serve creation rather than its Creator. And that was sin. He could not deny this secret was a source of guilt. And it would not be long before the all-knowing Maker noticed how far from perfection Anakin had fallen.

But he wasn’t afraid of the fall. He wanted to connect with you in a deeper way than this parasocial existence. He wished to be your guardian angel. But you had many. Someone so beloved by the Creator had five guardian angels. And he hated each of them with equal rage.

Hate was dangerous. It was said that hatred lit the path of the fallen. And if it were true, then he had already doomed himself the moment he began desiring you.

He watched you as you prayed in the chapel, kneeling on the bench and making the Sign of the Cross, touching your beautiful skin with your fingertips. Contentment marked your face, and he felt it in your soul. It was only a feeling he had when he listened to your voice pray and sing with such grace and beauty. In your dainty hands, you held the rosary beads and began to say your prayer. Holding the first bead between your fingers, you whispered Our Father to yourself. Day after day you’d repeat the same prayers with equal passion. Your love and faithfulness to the one who gave you life was unmatchable. You had sacrificed much to serve him, cutting off your family and material possessions entirely to live a humble life in the convent. Your prayers never revolved around your desires, only for others. You often prayed for your sisters. Never for yourself. Anakin often wondered if you had any dreams of your own at all. Despite all his abilities, he could not hear your thoughts. He only heard what you said aloud to yourself.

As you worked with your hands in the garden, you often sang psalms of praise when you thought no one was around to listen. You sang softly, the most beautiful melody which would stain his thoughts day and night forever. He would hear you even when you were silent; the barriers of all the heavenly realms echoed with your voice, to his ears never ceasing. But perhaps, it’s only because he desired you so.

His obsession was different than that of men. Though not immune to your divine beauty, his craving for your touch transcended that of sexual pleasure. Sex is something created for humans to enjoy with other humans. His being was never made for intercourse with mankind, and he viewed it as a simple animalistic action. A way to express desire, but to him it was lacking in true passion.

What he felt for you was true desire.

He wanted to consume you.

Corrupt you.

He wanted you to desire him, crave him, lust over him, with every atom of your body and with every piece of your soul. He wanted to see you overturn your religious convictions and worship him instead. He wanted your prayers, your psalms, your whole heart.

Was that too much to ask?

Forbidden was what it was. Sacrilegious even. And enough to get him cast out of the heavenly realms forever.

But the longer he wished for you, the more he thought that it might be worth it. There was nothing he wanted more than you. And only you. He wanted to live out the rest of eternity adored by you. That would be enough.

But you were unaware of his existence. Which awakened rage within him strong enough to tear galaxies apart.

He could see you, but as long as he remained in his dimension, you would never be able to see him or know that he existed. He was forbidden to show you his glory, to share his voice, and to touch your skin. It was never meant to be.

And yet he still found a way to make contact, against all heavenly odds.

You were plucking red apples from the orchard trees close to the road. It wasn’t a common route from the convent to the market, but some used it. Anakin had finally caught a break from the council meetings with the Thrones and Cherubim and sneaked away to see you. He hated that your sisters sent you out alone where you could be harmed.

Your five guardians flitted around you in a circle. He knew that they would do almost everything in their power to keep you safe. Everything except actually physically intervening. For you, there would be no limits in how far Anakin would go to protect you. He would break every earthly and heavenly law.

For you.

And only you.

When you had filled your basket with apples, you climbed down the ladder to rest. You leaned back against the tree and looked up at the sky. If you had eyes to see the other dimensions, you would have been looking right into his eyes. His heart swelled with pride, knowing that you shared a connection, even if you didn’t know it yet.

An older human male was steering a small buggy pulled by two horses. Anakin had been watching him for miles coming down the road. Your guardian angels seemed to be unconcerned about his approach. And they could hear the thoughts of humans, which meant that you were likely safe.

But there was something about that man Anakin didn’t like. Perhaps it was only his proximity to you. He was jealous of anything that was closer to you than he.

You sang to yourself softly, and Anakin drew as near as he were permitted just to listen to your voice.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said to you. He had gotten off his buggy and walked over the road and a stretch of grass to meet you at the tree.

Anakin held himself back somehow, though if he saw fit, he could scorch the man from the inside out until he returned to dust.

You looked up at this stranger standing over you, and instantly, your eyes widened in fear. Anakin assumed it had been a long time since you’d spoken to a man. It was natural for you to be afraid. You thought you were all alone.

Anakin only watched the interaction transpire.

“Thank you,” you said back, your voice trembling.

“Would you sing a song for me?” the man asked.

“I think… that you should leave. This is private land, sir.”

A sane person would have backed away and said his goodbyes, but he didn’t. And Anakin knew instantly that he should have trusted himself to know this man’s intentions for you. This despicable creature kicked the basket from your lap and grabbed you, holding you by the throat against the tree trunk.

Your guardian angels had failed you. All five of them. Were they not paying attention to his evil thoughts? How had they missed them? They held the power to influence the thoughts of men. They could have convinced him to turn away and leave you alone.

But they didn’t.

They were going to let this man defile you.

Anakin watched them scrambling around, trying when it’s too late to change this man’s heart. But they could do nothing to interfere with free will once man had decided.

And Anakin thought that to be a stupid law. One meant to be broken.

With a singular motion of his index finger, Anakin sent lightning from the clouds, lightning that struck this man and stopped his heart. He was burned and scarred instantly and fell back, turning to ash.

You screeched and cried and sobbed, crumbling to your knees in a shaking mess. He wished he could comfort you, but he had already done enough to ruin himself entirely. But it was worth it to keep you safe. This was as close to you as he had ever gotten. The electricity from his lightning bolt just buzzed your skin. And he felt it. He wanted you to feel him in some way.

Your guardians looked up at him all at once with fire in their eyes. Anakin smiled and gave them a wave. They were angry and picked him up. He could not overpower them when they were together.

They carried him to the high council and dropped him in the center of the chamber. Anakin did not need to explain himself; they already knew what had transpired.

“Need we remind you of the law of free will? The law given to humans by our Creator?” the Throne of Reason, Mace, said. His eyes were full of judgment and understanding at the same time.

Anakin picked himself up and stood, stretching out his layers of feathered wings. “I could not stand by and watch her be harmed.”

Mace closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. “You are in dangerous territory, young one. You know that what you did is one of the greatest of sins. To interfere with man’s will—” Mace pressed his lips together, “in such a physical way. Using the Heavens’ power against mankind. Anakin, you killed a man today.”

This was all such a waste of time. He knew what they were going to say. How they would interpret his actions. But why was no one speaking of that human’s sin. Rape. Raping a young maiden. That wasn’t worthy of a discussion? It wasn’t worthy of being mentioned?

“What about him?” Anakin asked defiantly.

Obi-Wan shot him a warning glare from where he sat. Obi-Wan was a cherub, one that was usually too busy attending to the wishes of the Creator to attend the high council. But Anakin did not doubt that his friend’s presence was needed today.

“The human?” Mace did not appreciate the diversion from Anakin’s sin.

“Yes. He was going to hurt her! And they—” Anakin pointed at your guardian angels, his entire being catching fire from his rage, “they weren’t going to intervene in any real way. They failed to listen. If I could hear the thoughts of men, I would have done something before he laid a hand on her.”

“Your obsession with this human is… concerning. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Why are your thoughts on the Earth realms? Need I remind you that your duties are the greatest in all of Heaven?” Mace said.

“But they could have done something!”

Disapprovingly, Mace shook his head. “You can’t know that. Only the Creator does. And it is not your place nor mine to judge men. That is for the Principalities to determine. They enact rightful punishment on humanity. You are not to interfere.”

Obi-Wan spoke up, coming to Anakin’s defense. “He is young. Neither you nor I can say that we haven’t made mistakes.”

“It wasn’t just a mistake. He broke the law. He overstepped his boundaries. He killed a man.”

“In his eyes, he was protecting her.”

Mace sighed. “She does not need him for that.”

Anakin stood there for a long time, drowning in their criticisms. His chest felt heavy, and he couldn’t hear himself think. He couldn’t hear you. All that he could do was worry for you. He knew the human mind could not erase trauma. It would remain with them for good. Tears streamed down his face at the thought of your pain which you did not deserve.

“I don’t need to listen to any of you! You have no authority over me!” Anakin announced without shame. Seraphim were of the highest order.

“I was not the one who called this meeting,” Mace said sympathetically. He looked above.

There was only one who held authority over him.

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