#cheeky minx

[stanislawkowalski]

How attractive Nastka is?

"89%? Hmm… makes me wonder what you'd do if you ever got close enough to see the missing 11."

[gallapiech]

A thank-u pie for pie

for lighting up my mood by your genius mickey mod😌

good luck on eating it before mirby eats up all😉

[faithinlouisfuture]

Louis Flirtomlinson was living his best life today. Those wicked, wicked eyes of his....

his eyes are literally sparkling!!! why wasn’t I born a bald man within Louis’ vicinity?!?! 😭

[plumpmacaroni]

Me - “Sometimes the lesbian fantasies win”

Gf - “Calm Down geez”

Me - “I can’t with you around you fuckin minx”

*closes door to get last word like the cheeky pop queen I am*

[heartheaded]

“What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb…” Halsin for Scanlan

𝄇𝄋𝄋𝄆 < ❝Oh? Do you mean mine, or--?❞

Of course the gnome isn't one to shy away from an offer, but even if the other meant an entirely innocent honeycomb, he's more than willing to assume otherwise.

𝄇𝄋𝄋𝄆 < ❝Because either way, I got you covered.❞

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT. ❞

— minors dni, bully! satoru x afab! reader w/ larger boobs, light degradation, titfucking, mouth/throatfucking, oral [m. receiving], is tittydrunk a thing?, spitting because gojo’s sloppy and gross </3

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ is it really my acc if I’m not constantly posting about facefucking…..

“oh, f— fuck…”

the quiet air of the desolate classroom is pierced by your gags and coughs—gojo’s doing as his cock shoves its way between your lips; the head burrows deep into your mouth, allowing his cum an easy path down your throat. his knees rest on either side of your torso, trapping you beneath him with a stiffened dick nestled snug between your spit-coated breasts, fucking himself between the shiny, slick skin illuminated by the moon’s light.

“your tits feel s’fuckin’ good.” he hisses, thrusting again and massaging the large mounds around his dribbling length. “so f-fuckin’ warm, all pretty and perfect around my dick.”

gojo pinches then tugs at your nipples, tweaking them between his fingers and it sends an intense throbbing straight to your neglected pussy. a twitch shoots up your legs behind him, moans bubbling up from your throat and gojo’s head falls back. he groans at the vibrations around his cock, ruts picking up in pace as he squeezes your tits together for a tighter fit around his dick.

his lids are squeezed shut, mind clouded over with lust as gojo gets lost in the feel of your cushiony tits engulfing him. he leans over for a second to drip another large wad of spit on your chest; it mixes with the cum, pre, and saliva already coating your breasts and his cock, in turn loudening the squelch of his stuttered movements. if gojo tried hard enough, he could imagine that this is your pussy he’s fucking, instead. so warm and wet and tight–

“c-cumming again, princess, shit.” satoru’s tip batters the back of your throat, whimpers falling out around his intruding length as he bursts again within your mouth. he only eases up as yet another high dies down, rolling your nipples under his thumbs. “there ya go, fuck. take it, take it all like my good little slut.”

satoru slips his still-hard cock from your mouth so it rests on your cheek, both of you rasping for breath. your chests heave; tears roll down the apples of your cheeks, shaky hands clutching and pulling at his shirt. satoru thumbs away a drop of cum at the corner of your lips—rubbing it over your tongue—before readjusting to straddle you, cupping your other wet cheek in his warm, messy palm.

“don’t you look so pretty right now?” he murmurs against your lips and gives you a short kiss. usually he’d take a picture, but satoru would rather commit this visual to memory than risk anyone else ever seeing you like this, including suguru.

you whine as a nimble hand tugs at your panties, opting to maneuver them down your shivering thighs rather than ripping them off entirely. he chuckles at the needy raise of your hips when a finger presses to your sopping clit, thighs clenching together around his hand.

“just listen at my pretty pussy.” gojo circles the nub and more wet sounds immediately fill the space. “soaking wet like a geyser down there. gonna squirt like one, too?”

your lips quiver. you muster up any leftover energy to cast gojo an unimpressed glare. “you– you’re so dis—ah!, disgusting.”

his cheeky grin only widens. “must like me that way, baby, or this sloppy pussy wouldn’t be leaking everywhere otherwise, hm?”

“sh-shut up and fuck me if you’re gonna do it.” you pause before adding, “satoru.”

what a manipulative little minx you are, saying his name like that knowing it drives him utterly insane. now he has to fuck you. well, not like he wasn’t going to before, but gojo’s definitely more keen on spending the next few hours splitting your pussy open if you’re gonna say his name like that the whole time. branding the shape of his dick into your walls, just like your slutty self deserves.

a few seconds pass. “please.” you whisper it with the assumption that he’s hesitating. in reality gojo’s mind is rampant of all the ways he’s going to bend and fold you over every visible surface, stuff his cunt full enough to have your tummy bulging.

satoru drowns out a vague thought: ‘i’m fucking wrapped around her finger’ before placing a gentle smooch on your lips. he doesn’t care. he likes the taste of himself lingering on your lips. “oh, you never have to beg, baby. i’ll give you anything you want.”

tagz: @anthoosies @astral-hydromancy @lcvelina @lynettess @sbgg @paradiseoflosers @kissesandmore @h-4-bib @starsharkz @sataraxia @apatauaia @savethegoddamturtles @yunymphs

[dmitriene]

plink

being a naughty little minx towards simon riley all the week, you were getting on his nerves every day, throwing little cheeky moves or unserious tantrums, making him late to many important meetings by not letting him go, rubbing against him during some calls and calling him to join you in the bed, making people on the other line grow flustered, telling him they'll call later.

and simon knows you're doing this prettily on purpose, because when one day he all but growls with a hissing undertone that you're gonna be punished once the weekends will come, you try to outsmart him, welcoming him home at the evening by wearing nothing but a simple cotton, short cut shirt in rosy color with a matching lacy, skimpy thongs that do nothing to hide your pussy, two thin strings on either side of your bare, puffy folds, revealed fully.

you paddle closer to loop your arms around his neck, peering at his lancing eyes, craning your neck to smudge small kisses against his sharp, stubbled jaw and thin lips, purring about how you missed him, as you wiggle your ass, almost twirling for him to show the present you made from yourself, but he remembers well about promised punishment, as he hoists you up.

simon makes sure you're bend over his knees, clawing at his muscular thighs as your spine arches in a beautiful curve, meeting each sharp, swift spank against your perched asscheeks, feeling the rippling sting when his calloused palm meets your burning skin, as he kneads at the supple fat, fingers rubbing across the warmed flesh, before delving down towards your sticking folds.

rubbing one finger between them, making you jolt and twitch, mewling syrupy sounds that drip from your pouting lips, growing more pitchy as his middle digit circles meticulously at your slit, feeling how you drip onto his hand with glossy strings of slick, one of his heavy hands curled beneath your chest, holding you down, as he twists his wrist, increasing the speed of his fingers, freeing his right hand to spread your ass.

making your wet folds flutter at his touch, shuddering as simon's elbow dig at your shoulder blades, pressing you further onto his knee and the plushness of the couch, leaving you helpless and keening chorus of gasping yowls, pussy squelching at the contact of his curling fingers with the oozing slick that drips down your thighs, as you rock your hips desperately, needing him deeper.

perhaps, if he'll make you cum from just toying with your soppy slit, spanking your ass enough to feel the scorching burn all the while his fingers play with your pussy, fiddling with the thin straps that trail from the thong, squeezing your folds together, you'll behave better, just like a proper girlfriend he needs you need to be.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[erinfern0]

intoxicated.

simon "ghost" riley x afab!virgin!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, afab anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: soft simon and his darling spending a cute evening together on discovering your body, slowly falling more in love with being intimate.

warnings: soft simon obsession, two cuties in love, marks, kissing, fingering, etc.

a/n: based on this request! it's longer than i expected, but i hope you don't mind.

Simon was obsessed with you, smitten, enamored. Watching you lie there, completely bare, allowing him to get to know your body in such a different way.

Before, it was just light touches and prolonged make-out sessions. He adored the way you slowly unraveled in front of him, telling him exactly what you needed. As much as he loved your guidance, he was intoxicated with teasing you with it.

“Where, baby?” his voice was hoarse with arousal as you toyed with the hem of your t-shirt. Simon's fingers made tiny shapes all over your knees and thighs as he lay beside you on the bed, his arm resting under your head to have you even closer.

You mewled, “Simon…” as he pulled his hand away, seeing your thighs shaking in a silent beg for him to get closer to your already soaked, but clothed cunt.

For anyone else, it would be embarrassing how easily wet you get from those simple touches and his body right beside you, but with Simon, everything felt so good, so comfortable, you never felt that way.

The only thing except for the arousal that you felt was pure torture, laying down on your shared bed, watching him work you relaxed by teasing some of the most sensitive areas without touching the most important one.

“Shh, 's okay, love.” he cooed into your ear, moving his hand lower. He didn't even have to put any pressure for you to spread your legs open, draping one of them over his lap. “Where?”

Simon chuckled wholeheartedly, kissing your temple to praise you silently as he grabbed a handful of your inner thigh, just holding the soft plush of your skin in his palm.

Your mind was so hazed, almost dizzy, as you closed your eyes, feeling his nose draw familiar shapes on your cheek. You couldn't make up a coherent sentence in your head, so you just wrapped your much softer fingers around his wrist, pulling him toward your center.

As soon as his warm palm rested on your slicked panties, putting barely any pressure, allowing you to gasp hazily from his warmth. “There.” you choked out, a playful smirk on your lips as you opened your eyes again.

Simon's pupils dilated, catching your gaze. Dark browns now looking almost perfectly black, staring at you with so much affection it almost made you cum right there, like this.

“Cheeky little minx.” he groaned, his fingers gently playing with your folds over the cotton of your underwear. His voice made you gasp again, fingers tightening their grip on his wrist in an attempt to make his moves faster.

Simon just hummed into your hair, nuzzling his face into it as he moved your panties aside, collecting your arousal on his fingertips to spread it all over your swollen, twitching, aching clit.

Your hips started grinding against the sheets as if they had a mind of their own, adding to the pleasure coiling in your lower stomach. That's when you felt his lips leaving kisses in your hair and moving lower, to place some more on your neck.

The stubble on his face and the way it rubbed into you made you giggle, your free hand playing with his hair. Your actions, especially the way you tugged on his ends, made him groan into your exposed collarbones as he left marks on them.

“You're drivin' me wild.” he muttered while pulling his stiffened arm from under your head to kneel right between your thighs. His hair was a true mess, shaped as you played with it before, and his cheeks were flushed.

Towering over you, Simon leaned down to catch your lips, erasing the playful smile you had. The kisses felt hungry and sloppy as he swallowed every single one of the little moans that left you when he added another finger to soothe tight circles over your clit.

Your legs tightened their hold on his hips when you felt his bulge, pressing into your inner thigh. As your hand reached down to tug on his belt, Simon moaned into your mouth from how much you were tempting him.

His fingers slipped down your slit to circle your entrance. You pulled back from the kiss, cupping Simon's face to see his eyelids fluttering, brows furrowing in confusion.

Such a simple tease made him crave more of you, lips quickly following yours, but you turned your head with a chuckle. That little laugh of yours caused shivers to run down his spine, his head nuzzling in the valley of your breasts with a groan.

He didn't let your actions go unnoticed, his finger slowly easing its' way into your slick entrance, caging him inside with the greedy clench he loved so much. The soft, subtle wave of his fingertip pushing against your g-spot.

His lips latched onto your nipple, sucking at teasing it by grazing his teeth over it before adding another finger. You threw your head back with a sharp inhale.

Simon's head instantly jerked up to see if you were all right. His worry made you yelp in frustration as he stopped moving his fingers in and out of you. “You 'kay there, love?” he rasped, hiking up to make eye contact with you.

Grinding your hips, you nodded your head, catching your breath right before he moved his fingers again. His thighs were tensing underneath yours, trying his hardest not to grind too much against you. This was all about you.

Watching you trust him so much, lying bare and gasping so cutely every time he hit that sweet little spot that made you see stars. You moaned his name, tugging on his hair as you came.

Your choked gasps, tiny sobs and twitches of your thighs, and that tight fucking clench made him drunk, intoxicated with love and admiration towards you. His kisses on your tits turned into light pecks and nibs over your smooth, sweat-covered skin as he pulled his hand away not to overstimulate you too much.

Licking your slick from his digits, Simon slowly soothed your tired thighs with his palm, chuckling as he wiped your arousal away with his wrist. You exhaled deeply, pulling him in by his shirt to connect your lips again, tasting yourself off his tongue.

Your hands traveled under his shirt, teasing the toned muscles under your fingertips as he rested on top of you, supporting his body weight on his forearms.

It was soft, quiet, and warm, the way he held you, embracing you with not only his body on top of yours, but also his calming scent made you feel drowsy. His soft hums against your chest helped you sync your breathing with his, playing with his hair again.

It was perfect this way. Taking things slow and gentle, with someone you truly loved. You didn't need words to know just how much you two were intoxicated with each other. Falling asleep in each other's arms after such a wonderful time spent together was always the best way to end the day.

masterlist | request info

[ellecdc]

This is my first ever time requesting and i feel a tad nervous about it. Since i don’t know how the whole thing works.

Okay so i've seen in your previous posts that you said you don't write for barty jr as a central character but imma request anyways and maybe just maybe i'm lucky and you do end up writing this request (no pressure tho sweetie)

Basically a Ravenclaw reader x reg x barty. Reader is a total sweetheart but also very witty, playful and sassy in a sweet way. and marauders are also involved in the fic. (Maybe reader is neighbors with James or maybe she's beasties with rem. I don't mind. you decide that.)

Your moonwater x reader one shot was so cute and i’m just craving more of your writing.

Anyways thank you and also if you don’t want to write for barty just replace him with another character or just ignore this whole request. 💗

🤨🤨🤨🤨 I wanted to say no on account of I really don't know that I want to write for Barty BUT....you're just too cute and I love you too much and I didn't want to say no to you on your first request [which: thanks so much for bestowing me with such an honour]. 🤨🤨🤨🤨 cheeky little minx, I bet you did that on purpose 😉

So I present to you, for possibly the only time ever on ellecdc.... poly!bartylus x Ravenclaw!reader

CW: Barty jokes (?) about wanting to kill people - very on brand for him

“Reggiiieeeee.” Barty whined as he walked into their shared dorm room where Regulus had been reading due to the fact that Barty had taken up residence in the Slytherin common room, making reading nearly impossible.

Regulus stifled a sigh and offered a begrudging “yes, my love?” as Barty belly-flopped onto the bed and muttered something (unintelligible) miserably into the velvet quilts.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Regulus asked, deciding to bookmark his place and give his boyfriend his undivided attention (anything less could end up being detrimental to both Regulus and Barty’s safety).

Barty lifted his head with a pout on his lips to look at Regulus. “How mad do you think Y/N would be if I killed Potter and his friends?”

Point proven. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Regulus deadpanned, causing Barty to groan and roll onto his side.

“It’s just she’s always spending so much time with them and they’re all so annoying. And I don’t want to tell her to not hang out with them” (that was a lie; Regulus has heard Barty tell you that the Marauders were 'no good company to keep' well over hundreds of times) “so, I thought it’d just be better if they...disappeared, you know?”

“What have you done?” Regulus groaned darkly, causing Barty to chuckle.

“Nothing! Nothing...” yet. 

“You do realize that your hit list includes my brother, right?” Regulus asked.

Barty looked at him like he was sort of stupid. “Uhm...duh, it’s called hitting two bludgers with one beater-bat. Do keep up.”

“Barty, you are going to scare her away...” Regulus pressed. “...you’re kind of scaring me away.”

Barty’s groan nearly turned into a shriek as he threw himself back down onto the bed in defeat.

“Fine. But when we’re trying to enjoy a nice moment with Y/N and Potter and his cronies interrupt, it will be all your fault.” 

And with that Barty got up and stormed out of the dorm room. Regulus sighed in relief and pulled his book back out.

So, when the three of you were wandering around Hogsmeade (i.e., you and Regulus were walking hand-in-hand whilst Barty followed, balancing precariously on the stone walls of bridges as well as some fences lining various properties (much to the shop clerks and homeowners’ chagrin), pausing to pet every cat he could find and seeing how many times he could skip stones in the pond [the answer was none, he kept throwing them too hard]), Regulus got proven wrong (somehow), and (even more importantly) Barty got proven right when Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus showed up.

“Hey guys!” You called cheerily, and Regulus was almost ashamed to admit that your sweet smile and kind voice cancelled out any chagrin that the appearance of his brother caused him.

“Hello gorgeous! Baby bro.” Sirius called with a wink, causing Regulus to roll his eyes.

“Can I help you four!?” Barty nearly screeched as he showed up seemingly out of nowhere, all but standing directly in front of you like he was trying to shield you from the sight a particularly horrifying broom crash.

“Barty...” You chided jovially, gently nudging him aside. “They’re just saying hello.”

Sirius looked rather chuffed that you had defended them. Regulus didn’t like that one bit.

“Okay, well hello. You can leave now.” Barty shouted.

“Oh, lighten up, Junior.” Remus called with a smirk. “We’re all friends here.” 

Barty scoffed. “I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than be friends with Gryffindor’s.”

“Ew.” Everyone else said in response.

“Come on, my sweet, beautiful, angelic, lovely, smart, wonderful girl. I don’t want you or our beautiful day to be tainted by such scoundrels.” He cooed at you like you were some toddler on the verge of tears from having dropped your ice cream on the ground.

You groaned a little bit but acquiesced, allowing Barty to turn your body in the opposite direction.

“Sorry guys. I’ll see you tomorrow for our study date!” You called over your shoulder, to which Barty quickly counteracted with a “no you won’t!”

“You know, love,” Regulus murmured into your ear, “you’d probably save him a little bit of grief if you at least didn’t call it a date.” 

“Perhaps. But look at him now.” You whispered back conspiratorially. “He’s holding my hand and talking a mile a minute about how much of his dad’s money he wants to spend on us at Tomes & Scroll’s.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smirk at that. 

A Ravenclaw may have been smart enough to come up with a plan like this, but only the influence of your two Slytherin boyfriends would have made you cunning enough to pull it off. 

AN: I don't know how I feel about this one bit

[daenysx]

6.45am with James please? <3

6.45 AM | JAMES POTTER

"i need to go." james says, his words are true but his voice betrays him. "let me go, you minx."

you wrap your arms tighter around him. "please, just five more minutes. i promise i'll get up with you and make you breakfast."

his cheeky smile turns into a fond one in a second. "baby, i can make myself something to eat. it's early, you keep sleeping."

"can't sleep without you."

you are undeniably tired and james is so warm under the sheets. he has amazing hands, he rubs your back so well, he has everything you need for sleeping like a baby. unfortunately he needs to leave for his early practice with the team. if he can leave you here, that is.

"okay." he finally agrees. he can tell the coach a tiny, white lie. "but only five minutes. then i'm leaving."

"i love you." you snuggle closer to his bare chest. "so much."

you kiss his chest more times than he can count. he melts, fuck, you're so adorable, he loves you. he's so in love with you, it makes him forget everything else, like how mad his teammates will be at him for being late.

it's okay. james can handle a few comments of him being a sleepy head if it means he can keep you like this. soft and beautiful, your sleepy eyes and warm cheeks. how bad would it be if he gets breakfast on his way to hold you a bit longer?

"angel." he whispers, you hum. "i need to go now. you stay here, okay? it's raining, you'll be sleeping well."

"wait, breakfast-" you try to lift your head.

"i'll take care of it." he kisses you to silence your worries. "i'll come back early. text me if you want cinnamon rolls from the cafe you like."

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[ninibeingdelulu]

Seeing you wearing his jersey…

ft. meguru bachira, oliver aiku, michael kaiser

Bachira :

A brilliant flush instantly paints Bachira's cheeks crimson when he notices the oversized #8 jersey swamping your slight frame.

Those big, expressive eyes go comically wide, lips parting soundlessly for several moments too stunned to articulate a single word.

Finally, he lets out a strangled gurgling noise that might resemble a muddled "C-c-cute!" Had anyone fluent in the Bachira language been nearby to translate.

The flustered, messy-haired striker wrings his hands together, completely undone in the face of your open appreciation for him. Multiple incoherent blatherings spill out as he angles his face down to try (and fail) to mask his furious blush.

Despite his sputtering, Bachira can't stop sneaking awestruck, smiling peeks at you wearing his kit - utterly endeared by your simple, heartfelt display.

Oliver :

Oliver quite literally has to do a double-take upon first laying eyes on you sporting his infamous #2 jersey. Those kaleidoscopic teal orbs go wide behind stylish red rims.

"Oh? Isn't that a rather unexpected fashion choice, love?" The mischievous striker waggles his eyebrows suggestively as he saunters over.

Already you feel those long, skilled fingers drifting beneath the loose fabric hem - skating up the sensitive skin of your sides as he leans in with a wolfish grin. "Though I certainly can't complain in the slightest...".

Oliver bursts into peals of rich laughter at your squirming protests, tugging you flush against his toned body so he can admire the way his kit looks draped across your curves. "Cheeky minx - I absolutely insist you keep wearing that for me.".

His thumbs trace delicious circles against the small of your back as he nips at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Maybe then I'll behave...".

Michael :

The German emperor's heterochromatic eyes flash with blistering intensity as he surveys you through the lens of his unshakable focus.

Even dressed so haphazardly in his iconic #10 jersey, you've captivated Michael's full, eerily still attention in a way few things ever manage.

He stalks towards you with leonine grace, jaw locked and shoulders thrown back imperiously - every inch the untamable apex predator.

Only once Michael towers over you does his gaze smolder with something darker than cursory appraisal. That scorching look sears a white-hot trail over your body, setting nerves alight .

One calloused palm cups your jaw in a borderline punishing grip, tilting your face back as he searches your eyes for something indefinable. When he finally speaks, it's in a low snarl that raises goosebumps.

"Just make sure you know whose name you're wearing across yourself, mein juwel..."

Michael's ferocious claim settles like a brand over your lips in a toe-curling kiss that leaves you shaken and utterly his.

[tan1shere]

Babydoll

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: enjoy whores ;) - had to get this out asap because it turned out SO yummy imo 😋

Summary: Seeing the rolling stone interview and what your girlfriend had said, when you get hot and bothered by it you end up infront of that mirror as she makes a mess of you.

Warnings: smut, rough billie hehe - but also slight soft dom cuz I cant escape it !, fingering, eating out. Just filthy filthyness ! As per <3

Masterlist

Your eyes were wide slightly, reading your phone screen. Billies rolling stone interview had finally come out and you had read most of the stuff before hand, until you reach a certain part.

“TMI, but self-pleasure is an enormous, enormous part of my life, and a huge, huge help for me,” she says. “People should be jerking it, man. I can’t stress it enough-

Eilish likes to masturbate in front of a mirror. “Partly because it’s hot, but it also makes me have such a raw, deep connection to myself and my body, and have a love for my body that I have not really ever had,” she says. “I got to say, looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking ‘I look really good right now’ is so helpful. You can manufacture the situation you’re in to make sure you look good. You can make the light super dim, you can be in a specific outfit or in a specific position that’s more flattering. I have learned that looking at myself and watching myself feel pleasure...

Your face blushes as you continue to read.

Your eyes expand, you most definitely weren't expecting that. Even though you knew that about your girlfriend it wasn't really talked about often. She might of mentioned it once or twice, But now you were reminded of it. Thinking about it..-

"Whatcha reading." You then hear her behind you from your spot on the couch. Your phone stumbles out of your hands, turning to look at her as you grab it again. "W- oh, nothing important." She didn't believe you for a second. "What're you hiding huh?" Her sexy smirk appears making your legs cross tighter. She leans over going to grab it but you move so she can't. "You cheeky minx what is it." She looks down into your eyes, her head tilting. Wow she was intoxicating. Like a drug.

She notices you being distracted and snatches it from you. "Hey!" Her eyes read over the screen, a evil grin plastered on her face. She looks back up to make eye contact with you. "You're reading that part hmm." You feel the words slipping from your brain, not answering. "Enjoying the thought?" You subconsciously squeeze your thighs again. Shrugging. "Come on pretty girl, jus me. Know what you're thinking." She says placing her hands on the back of the sofa, leaning down to your level.

"What am I thinking.." She hums to herself, getting impossibly closer to your face. "You're thinking about me touching myself infront of that mirror in our bedroom." Your mouth goes dry at the intensity of this moment. "Having nothing but you on my brain and how fucking hot you are." Her voice was low, causing the tiniest noise to come out of you. When you realize you did your eyes widen. "How cute." Her mind then gets a great idea, her fingers grazing your chin. "Why don't I show you exactly how I do it, care to be the test dummy? Babydoll."

Your head moves up and down, about to lean in to kiss her but she moves back. Smirking down at your whiney reaction. "Naww. Just let me play with you then you can get all the kisses you want." You stand up with a slightly annoyed sigh. Her hand instantly goes for your neck in a warning manner, noticing your eyes rolling just after you breathed out. "Don't make me regret saying that baby." You nod gently, biting your lip slightly at the way her hand grabbed your neck. She lets go heading into your shared room. Her hands reach for your shirt instantly pulling it off, moving to your shorts next.

One of her hands skillfully unclasps your bra, letting it fall down your shoulders having your breasts spill out. Her hands then pull your underwear down, and there you were completely naked in the dim room. She bites her lip, looking over your entire body. She then goes to sit on the bed, opening her legs and bringing her knees up. Patting the spot infront of her. "Come sit." You do as told sitting against her front, looking into the mirror infront of you both.

"This is going to be fun." She smirks.

Her hand gently cups your face again moving it so you're looking in the mirror. "You'll look at yourself, watch my hand. Watch your face. And if you don't. Well. I'll just deny you. Ok baby?" You nod slowly, but her hand slowly moves around your neck. "You wanna answer me properly angel?" You gulp. "Y-yes, look at myself. Got it.." Her mouth moves to your ear. "Good girl." Her hands then move to rest on your knees, getting you to spread them more showing off how wet you already were as it glistened.

Your breath starts to pick up as her hand moves down your thigh, inching impossible close to where you so desperately need her. You absent mindedly move to spread your legs more, having your head rest back on her shoulder. She smirks at you in the mirror, maintaining eye contact. Her fingers touch your clit slightly, having your mouth fall open at the feeling. She watches. You watch, slightly understanding what she meant about feeling hot while doing this. But the fact she was the one doing it was even hotter.

You watch her finger move down to your entrance watching as it disappears inside you. A tenderly moan rips from your mouth, you wanted to look away shut your eyes but you remember what she had said. You got this..

Or you didn't, cuz as she speeds up and inserts another finger. Your body starts to squirm feeling your eyes shut in instinct. "Uh uh, open." She snarled in your ear. You do open your eyes again, still feeling your body tremble. "B-Billie.." You breathe out, watching her bite her lip again. "Watch my fingers baby. Watch how they slide in you so effortlessly." You whimper truthfully not being able to handle such pleasure this was bringing you. "Bill i-" "Watching it disappear and sooo deep too." You moan properly now, louder than you had done before. You throw your head back against her shoulder as she speeds up.

"Come on sweetheart." She says, trying to get you to focus. Her hand makes contact with your jaw getting your limp body to look. You look at how fast she's going watching her fingers. You for some reason didn't particularly want to look at yourself. Did you feel embarrassed for how pathetic you may look right now. "Come on baby, give into the pleasure. This will only work if you look at yourself ok?" Your head partly nods. You go to look shyly blushing as you look at yourself. But your head gets thrown back onto her shoulder again as you let out the dirtiest moan.

She didn't like the fact you weren't looking, grabbing your face and getting you to look at her directly. "You don't wanna behave and look? Lay on your back head facing the mirror." You turn around going to do so as she forcefully brings you closer. Having your legs draping over her shoulders, your cunt infront of her face. Your head spins as she manhandles you like she always does. Your were nothing but forced to look at yourself now. "You'll look, and if I see you don't I stop. Clear?" "Mhmm. Clear." She just needed you to relax. You begin to look at yourself, still unsure.

When you suddenly feel her tongue flat on your pussy. Your eyes roll back as she starts off strong immediately. Her pace fast, looking directly at your face in the mirror. "Relax my girl." She could sense you were still unsure giving more softer instructions. "I promise it'll feel good." You breathe out slightly averting your eyes to look at yourself. Your head tilts a tad, finding her to be correct. The way your eyes were droopy, your lips plump and red. You truly looked good. Your hair cascaded over the edge of the bed beautifully.

Your arms slowly move to dangle over the edge of the bed too. Having them rest there elegantly. You understood this now, you really did. "Mm, fuck." You soon moan out, keeping an eye on yourself then moving them to watch Billie. "Feels so good." She smirks against you, fucking you with her tongue. Craving the taste of you like a wild animal craves its prey. She then feels you clenching around her tongue, sending her crazy. She speeds up just a bit more, eventually moaning beautifully into you, it was just slightly whiney and needy, desperate to taste you. She knows how much you love the way she moans so she teasingly does it again.

Then she growls. Feeling your thighs trap her, God she loved whenever you did that. You were close, she felt it right on her tongue. You grip the sheets near your head, bunching it in your hands as you feel it arriving quicker. "Billie!" You scream out as you're shooting your juices into her mouth. She ate it good. Making sure she got it all. Her head slowly moves from your shaking form. Looking at your fucked out expression in the mirror.

"I'm your babydoll." You then say tiredly.

"Fuck yeah."

[megistusdiary]

CAN YOU DO ARLE X READER IN SUNDRESS W NO PANTIES????

considering this heatwave we are getting, i think i can manage this 😁

oh sundress season my beloved. i ♡ women

(nsfw utc - tw wlw content, thigh grinding, fem!reader)

"it's practically boiling outside." you huff at arlecchino as you walk into her office.

she merely hums, seemingly unaffected by the heat as her nose stays buried in her work. "it must be. even the children refuse to play outside these days."

she finally looks up at you, nearly dropping her pen when she sees what you're wearing. it's her favorite dress: the soft blue one that flares out when you walk or spin. the perfect combination of summery and elegant.

she sets her work down, beckoning you to her side. "you look beautiful." she knows the material is light and airy, probably the main reason for your choice. though, a selfish part of her wants to believe it was for her to look at.

"you think so?" you grin, knowing just how much she enjoyed this dress. you do a little spin, letting her see your thighs before you sit on her lap.

her hands snake up your thighs, and you shiver, biting your cheek, anticipating her reaction when she discovers-

"nothing under your dress?" she comments. "feeling cheeky today, aren't we?"

her clawed hands grab at your hips, squeezing your ass and settling your body on hers. "you know you love it." you grin, gasping when she spanks you.

"behave." she warns, nosing at your neck. "you're getting ahead of yourself with that attitude."

she feels you rubbing against her thigh, instead holding you firmly down so you cannot move at all. "not fair." you pout, garnering a scoff from her.

"you being a little tempting minx is what's not fair. you seem to have forgotten i'm supposed to be working." she sighs, shaking her head. "what to do with a disobedient little thing like you? what would satisfy you?" she grips your jaw, squeezing your cheeks.

you grind against her, her other hand loosening its hold as she allows you to rub your cunt on her thigh. you know you're probably leaving a mess, but you just can't help it.

she tugs the top of the dress down, allowing her to see your chest, humming appreciatively at the sight of your breasts. "such a pretty girl." she kisses your cheek, enjoying your desperate whines while you chase the friction from her pants.

arlecchino bunches your dress up your hips, allowing her to see you pathetically rutting against her. it embarrasses you, to say the least, but she doesn't seem to care.

she encourages you to make a mess for her, if only to have an excuse to discipline you later on. but, surely, that is part of the fun, is it not?

[shalomniscient]

greetings gamers. my return to this webbed site approaches so i just wanted to say thanks for sticking around !! *throws arle fluff smut at y'all*

cw. [NSFT UTC] gross amounts of fluff, praise, creampie, kinda lazy morning sex yk notes. this is kind of selfship adjacent but can be read as a normal readerfic as well taglist. my comrade in arms of arle fluff nation @e-hibiscus 🫡🫡🫡

“dearest.”

arlecchino’s voice is barely above a whisper as she tries—and fails—to sit up on the bed. the cause? your arms wound tightly around her waist, and your face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“hm?” you respond with a lazy hum, snuggling even closer to her, if possible. your body is soft against her firmer one, and her hands rest placidly on your waist. she could simply move you, it wouldn’t be difficult at all for her, but she doesn’t. she can’t seem to be able to find the heart.

“i have work to attend to,” she reasons with you. “you know this.”

you breathe out a giggle against her neck. “okay. go, then.”

not surreptitiously at all, your arms get ever so slightly tighter around her, and she sighs. “beloved…”

“what?” you ask innocently, a self-satisfied, cheeky grin on your face. it’s such a lighthearted expression on you that she feels her conviction tremble in its presence. she has long mastered anger and sorrow, but the love you coax out of her still seems to be as wild and free as the day it was born.

“i cannot leave if you do not let me go,” she says, and you shrug, eyes twinkling with mirth. you lean in close, close enough that she can feel your warm breath spill across her own lips.

“then don’t,” you offer simply, and she rolls her eyes, but the slightest hint of a smile twitches at the corners of her mouth.

“you and i both know reality is far more complex than that,” she argues gently. the sunlight streaming through the windows only grows stronger by the minute, illuminating your lovely face in shades of gold. “my schedule does not allow for such leisure.”

your smile turns a twinge enigmatic, almost mischievous, and arlecchino’s eyes narrow. “doesn’t it?”

“little minx," she growls, but there's no bite to her tone. "what have you done?"

“managing your schedule is part of my duties, you know. and as your excellent adjutant, i made a few executive decisions on your behalf regarding your work-life balance.”

“‘a few executive decisions’,” she echoes, raising a brow. “i’m quite certain that is above the pay grade of mere adjutants, my dear.”

you roll your eyes at that, a teasing pout forming on your lips. “would you much prefer i make them as your wife, then?”

“immensely,” she agrees, and you laugh again, and arlecchino feels a swirl of butterflies come to life in her belly. how strange, that such feelings can be inspired in the soul of someone like her.

how beautiful, too.

“so will you stay?” you ask eventually, your tone hopeful, and she cannot find it anywhere in herself to deny you. not that she would want to, anyhow.

“it seems that i will,” she concedes. a free day is rare for her, and a free day to spend all with you even more so. she will not squander such an opportunity. “i am all yours, today.”

you beam at her then, and oh, not even the sun rays filtering in through the windows could even hope to compare to the brightness of your smile. you reduce her to a moon caught in your orbit, able to do nothing but reflect your radiance with a small smile of her own, one that only you could ever see.

your lips fit perfectly against her own when you kiss her, slow and sweet, as if she were something to savor. it sends thrills running up and down her spine, her cold blood starting to run hot. you must have noticed her reaction, because when you draw back, there’s a hungry glint in your eye that arlecchino is all too familiar with.

“i missed this,” you confess against her skin as your lips trail kisses down her neck. “missed having you.”

“we are hardly celibate even during work, my dear,” she chuckles, delighting in the way your teeth sink into your lower lip as you recall all the times the both of you had lost yourselves in each other at various places that normal people would certainly never dream of.

"that's different," you say, almost petulantly, and arlecchino runs a hand through your hair as you continue to reverently kiss your way down her body. and in a sense, she understands. desperate fucking between meetings in hidden hallways against cold walls or hard desks can certainly be enjoyable, but there is admittedly something special about this slower pace. perhaps, she muses to herself, as she lets the sensation of your lips over her skin wash over her, this is the love-making authors and poets write about.

her fingers wind tight in your hair and you squeak as she tugs you back to her lips so she can kiss you again, hungry and wanting. she has you properly straddle her hips, the fabric of her nightshirt ridden up to reveal the smooth muscle of her stomach. your hands trace the contours of her abs as you plunder her mouth, your tongue teasing the pointed tips of her canines and making her growl into your mouth.

"eager little thing," she murmurs when you draw back for breath, eyes half-lidded and dangerous in a way that makes your blood sing. her hands fall down to your hips, squeezing ever so slightly, and she delights in the way you're so soft under her touch. you take the opportunity to tug your own nightdress over your head and toss it over your shoulder, allowing her a stunning view of your bare upper body. and from where you're sat, low enough on her body, you can feel the twitch of her hard cock against your ass, still restrained by her sleep shorts.

you grin at her words, a hand reaching behind you to palm her through the fabric. the muscles in her jaw jump and flex as she grits her teeth. "pot, kettle, don't you think?"

"get on with it," she huffs, nails digging into your flesh ever so slightly as you tug her shorts down and free her aching cock, already dripping pre-cum. you look down lovingly at her as your fingers daintily wrap around her, exerting a delicate pressure as you pump your hand up and down. her eyes nearly flutter shut as she leans back into the pillows, the crosses of her pupils growing as she looks up at you.

as you continue to stroke her, she takes the liberty of rubbing her thumb over your stiff clit through your underwear. you jolt and squeak against her, surprised, though she keeps you firmly in place with her other hand. in doesn't take long for you to start rocking your hips, grinding against her hard abs and her thumb. your breathing deepens as pleasure ebbs through you like a tide, drawn and released by the gravity of your husband, your moon.

once she feels your slick drip through the now ruined fabric of your underwear and onto her skin, she stills your hips, and coaxes you to rise a little. you obey, and her dark hands push the fabric of your panties to the side while yours aligns her to your eager cunt. you gasp when the tip pushes in, the feeling of her stretching you out pleasurable in a way unlike anything else. you brace your hands on her chest and she coos at you as you take more and more of her.

"just like that, sweetheart," she murmurs, watching as more of her cock disappears into your tight heat, "so good for me, aren't you, sweet thing?"

you practically collapse onto her when she bottoms out, your hips now flush. your cunt clenches and squeezes and arlecchino has to resist the urge to fuck into you. she needs to let you adjust first. so she wraps her arms around you as you shiver on top of her, your face buried in her neck. her warm hands run up and down your spine, gentle, comforting, until your breathing evens out.

"ready?" she asks against your temple, and you whisper out your assent against her skin. arlecchino hums at that, shifting her legs to plant her feet flat on the bed. she offers you a soft, affectionate, "good girl" before she's pounding up into you, her strokes slow but deep, tip pushing up against that sweet spot inside you every time.

you can't do anything but tremble and moan. your whines and whimpers of fuck, so good, baby, so fucking good and right there, right there makes her go near delirious, rational thought slipping from her with each second. it doesn't take long for you to start clenching tighter around her, and she knows you're close. and you tell her as much, between breathy moans.

"'m close, baby, so close," you stutter out, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. your expression is pinched into one of pure pleasure, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes screwed shut. "oh, fuck--i love you, just like that, fuck, i love you so much--"

arlecchino groans as you babble your professions of love, her blood warming in her veins. not scorching like a raging flame, but still just as bright--like a hearth. "i know, sweetheart, i know," she mutters, driving into you harder with each thrust. "cum with me, sweet girl. can you do that for me?"

you nod eagerly, rocking your hips to chase the feeling of her cock dragging along your sensitive walls. arlecchino pulls you down by the neck with one hand to crash your lips together, while the other toys with your stiff clit through your thoroughly ruined panties. you whine and whimper into her mouth, and she swallows each noise eagerly, greedily.

"i love you," she breathes out, a hand on your cheek, thumb stroking the ridge of your cheekbone gently even as she pounds into you. "my sweet girl, my wife, my sun."

she kisses you again and then seats you firmly on her cock, her tip mashing against that spot inside you and pushing you over that edge. you practically wail into the kiss as your body tenses and trembles with each dizzying wave of pleasure. the force of your cunt bearing down on her pulls arlecchino along with you, and she groans as she cums, spilling ropes of cum into your squeezing cunt. her arms around you hold you close as you drift through both your highs until you come back down, panting against her chest.

she takes your hand, limp as it is, and brings it to her lips to kiss your knuckles. "take your time and rest, dearest," she hums, tilting your chin up to look her in the eyes. her gaze is soft, affectionate, but there's a hint of danger in them that makes your throat go dry in a good way.

"after all, thanks to you we have all the time in the world today, don't we?"

[ludicdoll]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: smoking, sexual tension, farleigh being yet again an arrogant cunt, fingering, littleeee bit of degrading but for the most part there’s praise, farleigh’s slightly toxic, dom farleigh, situationship type relationship

synopsis: you and farleigh share a cigarette on the staircase.

a/n: farleigh lives in my mind rent free 24/7, for my bby @uch3na

there’s something so chilling and unnerving about the saltburn corridors at night, everything appeared so much more closed in. felix would usher you to come to saltburn with him every summer, and you always declined. however, this year you gave in. you constantly got lost within the house, always walking loops around the castle. unfortunately, you couldn’t sleep and felt antsy—so you decided to explore the manor. as you slowly creak open your door, you poke your head out and look around. when you’ve confirmed no one is awake, you tiptoe across the polished floors, bumping into several obscuring objects in your way due to the darkness. you walk past a room before stepping back and looking through the cracked door.

the lamp was still on inside, and it only occurs to you when you gloss over the posters on the walls that it’s farleigh’s bedroom. you immediately step back, afraid he would catch you in his door. but you realized he wasn’t in his room at all, in fact he was behind you staring you down.

“what are you doing?” his voice is low and sultry which causes you to jump back and yelp, holding a hand up to your chest. “holy fuck, farleigh—you scared me.” you whisper, worried about waking up the cattons. he’s sitting on top of one of the many staircases in the home, a cigarette between his fingers (as always)

“you stalking me or something?” he asks with a raised brow. you cross your arms, not impressed by his joke. “no, i was just—” you trip up on your words for a moment, distracted by his intense glare. “i couldn’t sleep.”

farleigh looks at you up and down, a thin line of smoke flowing out of his mouth. “so you decided to come to my room instead?” of course, he flipped the narrative to make it seem like you were purposely looking for him. his voice was laced with arrogance, a smirk plastered on his lips. “you cheeky minx,” he mutters as he draws out another exhale from his cigarette. you roll your eyes, tugging at your sleep shorts that were a little bit too small to your liking. farleigh’s eyes darts down to your smooth legs, an intrigued look on his face. the blue moonlight lit the side of his face perfectly, just enough for you to make out his expression shifting.

you dig the balls of your heels deeper into the cold floor, slightly nervous from him examining you. you walk over to the railing, sitting down on the step next to him. farleigh leans over to your shoulder, offering his cigarette to you. you stare up him for a moment before taking it from his fingers, sighing when you feel the cold menthol flavor on your tongue. “you sleep in those clothes?” he asks with a soft judgmental tone while sliding his hand across the soft fabric of your shorts, almost groping at your ass. you groan, rolling your eyes in response. “i didn’t know i packed my old clothes. they obviously don’t fit me, farleigh.” you smack his hand away, turning to look out of the large window. the view of the garden is enchanting and gorgeous, almost beautiful enough to distract you from farleigh inching closer to you.

“mhm, yeah. you look sexy in it though.” you snap your head at him, brows slightly raised from his confident remark. he looks at you funny, shrugging his shoulders innocently as a way of saying “what?” your friendship—well, situationship with him was definitely something. you hated that term, situationship. it felt so condescending to you, just like a more loose term for fuck buddies. farleigh didn’t like when you got too friendly with other guys, he made that known to you because every time he caught you with another boy, he would take you back to his dorm and fuck you dumb. but, for some reason when he would talk and flirt with other girls, you weren’t allowed to do anything about it. and as much as you wanted to tear away from the grasp he had on you, you simply couldn’t. you’d find your way back to him eventually, and he knew that.

ever since you arrived at saltburn, farleigh has made sure that he annoyed you in every way he could, keeping you on your toes as much as possible. for example, during breakfast this morning his hand kept riding up your dress, fingers dancing across your panties teasingly—and during events, he would bounce his leg up and down with you in his lap, his knee rutting up against your pussy. the way he would tease you drove you insane because although he touched you, he never fully went through with it. he didn’t fuck you, finger you, or eat you out even though he would initiate the heavy situation.

“what are you thinking about?” he asks, his chin resting on your shoulder. he’s looking at you, chestnut eyes burning into yours. you hum, passing the cigarette back to him. “just about how much of an ass you are.” you reply with a bitter tone. farleigh tilts his head to the side and you feel him breaking into a smile even though your head was turned away. “it’s not funny.” you groan in annoyance. his hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you close. “it’s a little bit funny.” your leg bounces up and down, a nervous habit you had developed from all the stress you endured at oxford. it’s silent for a while, the sounds of crickets chirping and the soft patter of rain outside filling the long halls. “you keep teasing me, far.” you mumble, ashamed at how needy you sounded right now. he chuckles lowly, kissing your neck. “how so?”

his voice is quiet but somehow it still makes your insides turn and your thighs close tighter. farleigh seems to notice this slight movement and it gets a rise out of him. he smirks mischievously before shifting over on the stairs, moving so your back was now pressed against his chest. “c’mon then. tell me, princess.” he whispers in your ear. his voice is smooth like velvet, yet low and coarse. you watch as a layer of smoke evaporates over your head, then he puts his cigarette out against the cream colored tiles. “elspeth will freak if she finds your ashes on the floor.” you rasped in an attempt to advert the conversation. farleigh clicks his tongue, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. “i’ll just blame it on felix.” you feel the warmth radiating off of him, a slight tent in his pajama pants against your ass. farleigh presses a wet kiss on your neck before peppering a few more down tenderly.

“farleigh,” you breathe out. you let out a small moan, lulling your head back on his shoulder. he looks down at you with predator eyes, a half-lidded stare boring into yours. you moan out his name again, trying to get his attention but his hands are roaming further down your body. “farleigh, not here.” you whisper. he groans, letting out a quiet growl. “yes here, just be good f’me, baby.” you watch as his large hands settle on your hips, his fingers probing at the band of your shorts. slowly, he pulls them down your legs, sliding his fingers between your folds against your clothed pussy. you gasp softly, shifting in his arms nonstop. “you’re soaked through your panties. you like me that much, huh?” he taunts arrogantly.

you felt so sensitive right now, yearning for his touch. he continues to spread his big hands across your stomach, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt. you twitch from anticipation, needy and desperate in his hands. “oh god, stop it.” you hiss. he pokes his head up, lips parted slightly. “uh-uh, say please.” his hand stops traveling down and you whine in response. a quiet groan escapes your lungs when you realize farleigh wants to hear you beg for him. of course, you’re just as stubborn as he is so you stay quiet at first—trying to prove to him that he didn’t have as much control over you that he thought he did. “say it.” his voice is a bit louder now, more clear with a harsher tone. you bite down on your bottom lip and scoff at his demands.

“i know you’ve been touching yourself to me.” this makes you freeze, and your bratty attitude drops for a split second. and while yes, it was true—you didn’t know he knew about it, which was even more embarrassing. your face heats up quickly, your body feeling like jelly against his large frame. “imagine how much better i can make you feel.” his voice is driven with lust, eyes dark with ardor. you turn your head away, rubbing against his hard dick with a pout on your face. you sigh out of frustration before whimpering a quiet “please,” but he still doesn’t seem satisfied. “what did you say?” he asks hauntingly—his hand resting on your chin and moving your face so you’re looking up at him. you feel your insides coiling in anticipation and frustration all at once. he was such a bitch but you liked it.

“farleigh—” you go to protest.

“nonono, let me hear it.” he interrupts. “please,” you beg instantly, you can't wait anymore, you need him now. farleigh grins, planting a kiss on your parted lips before pulling off your panties down to your ankles. you wince slightly from the cold air hitting your bare skin, gasping when his thumb circles your swollen clit. his fingertips ghost past your dripping slit, drawing a quiet cry from you. his touch is slow and sensual in a way that makes you dissolve further into him. you think that if his arms weren't holding you up, you'd fall right down the steps. his finger probe at your wet hole, sliding it in with a lewd squelching sound. your back arches slightly, hips stuttering upwards against his slender hands. you whine and cry out softly as his finger curls up, sliding in and out of your cunt mercilessly. you try to keep quiet, terrified of felix walking out of his room and seeing farleigh fingering you into oblivion.

“let me hear your pretty little voice, baby,” he mumbles into your neck. you shake your head, pressing your lips into a thin line to suppress your moans. then, farleigh dips in another finger, stretching you out. you pant and sigh, running your hand up to his face then to his curls. you softly tug on them, grinding against his fingers with a stuttered jerk of your hips. “fuck, you’re such a bitch.” you whine. “you love that, don’t you?” he chuckles back in return. you don’t have to see him to know that he had a wide grin plastered on his face right now, you can hear it. although the summer heat was decently cooler at night, the air seemed hotter around you now. your skin is coated in a thin layer of sweat, lips wet and red from you biting down on it. you throw your head back as soon as his thumb grazes past your sensitive clit again. farleigh sighs at the sight, seeming to get off from you whining and tearing up under his hold.

farleigh pushes his fingers deeper inside your walls, running his other hand on your waist up to play with your tits. your shirt slightly slips off your shoulders which causes you to shudder from the tickling feeling. farleigh keeps his deliberate pace, taunting you. he breathes in your scent, lining wet kisses along your shoulder with ease. “farleigh, go faster.” you moan out, he clicks his tongue, narrowing his head further into your neck. you groan, “please,” and he obeys surprisingly. his fingers speed up as his hands massage your breasts softly—drawing a choked sob from your throat. eventually, his hand from your chest moves away back down to your clit, rubbing at it roughly. your breath hitches, back arching into him. you slowly feel a overwhelming sensation over your body, dazing you out like an intense high. you can barely keep your eyes open when he starts spitting out dirty words into your ear. “such a slut,” he sputters out, “you’re lucky you’re fucking gorgeous.”

you roll your hips into his hand, increasing the pleasurable ache between your legs. farleigh sees your desperate attempt and decides to rapidly slide his fingers in and out of you at a more ragged pace. you mutter a string of curses, his name following after in a lewd moan. your hand reaches down to his, trying to stop his intense motions. in an instant, farleigh grabs your wrist and presses it back down against the floor. now, his hand is on top of yours, holding it tightly. you try to close your legs but you realize his legs are over yours, trapping you down. you couldn’t wiggle your way out of his grasp either, he was far too big and strong.

farleigh watched as you squirmed and cried, his fingers performing a vigorous rate against your dripping pussy. and for a moment, everything goes completely blank. it feels like you’re drifting for a second, stars glazed over your eyes. it feels like a rope being split inside your body, you squirt all over his fingers witha piercing moan—a moan loud enough to wake up the entire house. “oh fuck!” you cry out. you try to catch your breath, basking in the silence. farleigh hums, satisfied with your reaction. you feel your gummy walls spasming around his long fingers, “you’re such a whore, y’know that?” he asks. you roll your eyes, the hand in his hair falters back down to your abdomen slowly and you lean your head away from his arm, staring down at his hand still pumping in and out of your pussy slowly. farleigh pulls his hand away from your hole with a pop. you hear him licking at his fingers behind you loudly. he wants you to know that he's a fucking perv. and as much as you want to hate it, it only makes your knees weaker.

his other hand that is on top of your much smaller one loosens, but he's still making sure your fingers are intertwined with his. farleigh untangles his legs from yours, tilting your head up to make eye contact with him. he smiles, eyes glinting from the moonlight. he kisses you, a delicate and tender kiss at that—you taste yourself on his tongue.

when he pulls away from your soft lips, he looks at you up and down. he bites down on his bottom lip, a slightly depraved look on his face. you turn away shyly, grabbing your shorts and underwear from the stairs, stumbling slightly forward. as you get up, you feel an abrupt slap on your ass. you look down in shock, frowning at farleigh underneath you. he grins widely, leaning back on his hands to get a better view up your loose shirt. your face quickly heats up at his lust-driven stare. you pull down your shirt to cover your butt then carefully step past him to find your way back to your room. in the far distance, you hear him laughing.

“goodnight!” he shouts out. you wince at how loud he was, patting the back of your hand against your forehead to wipe off the faint sweat on your skin. you no longer felt the need to go wander, you were just tired.

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Three: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, menstruation, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, murder, serious illness, needles [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you SO much that he’s disgusting about it. He’s extra delusional. Anakin doesn’t love drama HE IS the drama. He's still a massive Perv [diary entries from Ani] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: June 27th

I came to the diner tonight, I love to see you wait tables. You’re so kind and sweet, even to the assholes and shitheads that don’t deserve to breathe your air. Your beautiful smile, those pretty eyes and how you bat those long lashes, that bell-like giggle you pull for those nasty old men’s jokes.

I know it’s not real, but it’s fun to watch you pretend baby. And just as fun to listen to your annoyed retelling of your night when you get home. Gods I could just listen to you talk for hours. Watching your face change as you speak, the acute movements of your eyebrows and lips that tell me how you really feel.

You’re just like me, more than you know.

I ordered some coffee, sat at the bar one of those red spin-y stools, and listened to your sweet lilt tell lie after lie to your customers.

You’re a busy, busy girl aren’t you princess?

Sorry for the messy writing, it was difficult not to laugh as I wrote these little white lies of yours.

1. Saving up money for a car: true, but doesn’t get you good tips

2. This is your second job and life on your own is just real hard: I’m amazed that this one works as well as it does, really pulling on those old lady heartstrings huh?

3. ‘Sorry guys, I’m just- having a hard day. You understand right?’ *sniffle* the only thing those guys understand is the masculine urge to stop a girl from crying and if shoving a few extra bills under their dirty plate makes your day ‘better’, they’re gonna do it.

I don’t know how you continue to use that one on those poor fools, it’s always the same few guys too. They really think you’re something special huh?

You are of course, very special. But they don’t know you like I do. They don’t know that you’re full of shit. I know for a fact you had a really good day. I was there.

You cheeky little minx.

4. Your mom is out of work and you’re helping her out: your mom is out of work, but you’re definitely not helping her out. She wouldn’t take your money if you offered it. (You wouldn’t offer it over your dead body.)

Can’t blame you for this little lie though, your mom really is a piece of shit. Exploit that bitch all you want, she deserves it. I’ve seen those nasty posts she made about your friend. All that because he’s gay?

Oh no! It’s contagious! It’s the vaccines! Gluten!

Come on lady, it’s 2023.

5. you’re getting married! I fucking wish. But, not yet princess, you won’t need to worry about anything when it’s time for that. Thats what I’m here for, I’ll make sure you get everything you want.

6. ‘It’s on the house honey.’ I was so jealous hearing this one for the first time. You’re just absolutely rotten aren’t you? Refills are free.

You’re perfect for me and you don’t even know it.

Diary Entry: June 28th

Angelic. Cherubic. God-kin.

A biblical beauty if I’ve ever seen one.

The way your hair creates a halo around your face. Tendrils gracing the soft contours of your cheeks, the twitch of your nose when you shift just alittle too much and a strand tickles it. The subtle pull or purse of your lips that tells me you’re deep in the land of dreaming.

Sleep is one of the most basic human needs. It’s not meant to be as glorified as you make it, but somehow you do.

It’s intimate. They way your breathing slows and your body melts into the soft hands of sleep. It’s an event that I’ve been graciously given the opportunity to witness.

It was so, so, so worth waiting for.

SleepyTime Tea, a cute name and of course perfect for my purposes. You drank a cup almost every night. It’d been on my mind for a while and I figured… it couldn’t hurt to open it up and help you get an even better sleep.

Now that I’ve had the privilege of seeing an angel at rest… well I don’t think I could ever witness anything more breathtaking.

Except for maybe your sweet little pussy.

I checked and double checked the measurements on those sleeping pills I promise. I would never ever hurt you sweetheart. I was so anxious, trying to make sure I got the mixture perfect.

It worked like a dream. Didn’t it?

Damn right it did. Worked well enough that I was able to tuck your hair behind your ear and kiss your forehead before I left.

I also did you a little favor or two as well while I was there. It wasn’t a completely selfish visit.

I replaced an old beat up scrunchie, it was past time for you to retire it in my opinion. Now it’s serving a better purpose: squeezing the base of my cock while I fuck my fist to the sounds of your desperate moans, both of us needy for a never quite satisfying finish. If only I had the courage to open that door.

You need a man sweetheart. You need me. Those toys of yours just don’t hit the spot for you do they? Hurts my heart that it takes you so long… and I know it’s not on purpose. I can tell the difference.

Nothin’ can mimic that sinful feel of flesh on flesh.

I took out your bathroom trash, I know you hate doing that. And maybe I accidentally knocked your toothbrush off the sink.

Sue me.

But I promptly rectified the issue, I just so happened to notice you were out of brush-head refills a few days ago and came prepared. You’re welcome baby.

I also purchased the same brand of brush that you have.

Reduce, reuse, recycle.

Date:

June 29th

You woke up, rolling out of bed at 9:30. An absolutely ridiculous time to be awake on what was meant to be a lazy stay at home day. But alas, you are a good friend, and good friends go through with their plans.

Even if you made those plans a month ago and completely forgot them.

Your cat laced it’s way through your legs while you stood on unsteady feet. You’ve really gotta stop with the caffeine, it’s definitely not normal for someone as young as you to wake up with the shakes. But you’re a creature of habit and an absurd amount of sugar and caffeine were included in those habits.

Staying true to those habits you made your way to the bathroom across the hall, absentmindedly grasping at air for a few seconds before realizing your toothbrush wasn’t where you always left it. With a frustrated groan you looked around and saw that someone… or rather something had knocked it into the floor.

“Boogie!” You turned around and made your way to the living room, interrupting her morning routine by scooping her up and forcing her to face the music.

“How dare you.” You whispered, trying to pull out a stern voice. “I don’t have any new tooth brush heads. What am I supposed to do you little shit?”

You bent down, picked it up and popped the replaceable head off, tossing it into the… empty trash can? When did you take out the trash?

Whatever. Focus. “You better hope I have a spare regular one.” You shot a nasty glare at your cat who sat unbothered on the bathroom counter.

You searched through the cabinet below the sink and through all the drawers and found none. Not even that travel one from last year’s vacation. Finally you opened up the medicine cabinet-mirror combo and was pleasantly surprised but also annoyed, to see that you did actually have a replacement.

“Well shit.” You scoffed, “I should’ve just checked there first.”

Next on the list was a giant tumbler of coffee and a hit of your vape for breakfast. Delicious.

You searched in the catch-all drawer in your kitchen for a hair band, not finding any of the small black ones you settled for a stray scrunchie that lived in this drawer specifically for circumstances like this.

Grabbing the light blue silk scrunchie you went to slide it on your wrist and gather your hair but stopped mid movement. No sharpie mark. You could’ve sworn last time you wore this it had a sharpie mark on it from being trapped in the drawer with a cap-less marker. Weird, but not weird enough to care about.

With your caffeine withdrawal taken care of and your morning duties finished, you slipped on some tennis shoes, grabbed your small backpack and walked to the gym two blocks away. Your wonderful and lovely, much more active friend had invited you to a yoga class to meet ‘someone who isn’t a lazy bastard’.

Which… doesn’t really make any sense considering your last boyfriend liked to lift weights but couldn’t bear to lift a finger to help you.

But you love Luke, and Luke loves to play matchmaker. So you’d suffer through this with a smile. It couldn’t hurt and it might be fun, if all else fails at least you got to hang out with your friend and giggle at him drooling over the ‘guy with this sexy scowl, big broad shoulders, oh my god he’s so soft but like in a buff way it’s insane.’.

“Lukey!” You jogged up to him where he was waiting for you outside the gym.

“You’re late.” He stated sternly despite the little smile curving his lip.

“No I’m not. It’s 10:20.” You scoffed.

“Yes and class starts at 10:30.” He retorted.

“I’m not sure if you know this, but 20 comes before 30.” You said feigning concern as you touched his forearm while walking inside.

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, “I mean you’re late to meet this guy I was telling you about!”

He shoved you gently past the various equipment and to a smaller room with mirrors along one wall. He very conspicuously pointed toward a younger guy with… a mullet?

“You’re joking.” You gasped. “Luke I swear to god you’ve gotta be kidding.” You squeaked smacking his arm.

“What?!” He squealed, pulling his arms up to his chest and curling in on himself. “Stop I didn’t invite you to kickboxing! Ow!”

“A dude with a mullet?” You glared at him.

“Wait till he turns around, the mullet will be forgiven I swear.” He said, holding up his hands in an offering of peace.

That peace treaty was immediately ripped to shreds when Luke loudly dropped his metal water bottle on the hard floors, a smile that could beat the devil’s smirk on his face.

The guy whipped his head around, eyebrows raised in concern, soft greenish tinted blue eyes taking a moment to glance over you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, a soft accent lacing his voice as he walked over to you.

Is it strange to say that a man with a mullet is… graceful? Yes, it is.

“Oh yeah, everything is fine.” You answered quickly, not missing the snicker that Luke made when he kicked the water bottle over to you.

You bent down and picked it up, holding it with a grip that would surely snap your officially ex-best friends neck in half.

“Here let me take this for you.” The blonde haired stranger said, reaching out for your backpack and for some reason you let him take it.

He just… exuded a calming energy. No wonder he likes yoga, he’s probably the most zen person you’ve ever met. Everything about him was soft and comforting. His voice, his beard, even his knuckles as they ghosted across your arm when he grabbed your bag.

“Th-thanks?“ You said in a statement that sounded more like a confused inquiry.

You followed him and Luke inside, the blood draining from your formerly flushed cheeks when he unrolled your yoga mat in the front row. What kind of cosmic curse has Luke unleashed? You shot him a look to burn through brick but he just seemed giddy as if you weren’t planning on disposing him in the sewer after this.

“I’m Ben, your instructor. Luke told me you’d be coming today, he mentioned you’ve never taken a class like this before?” He looked over at you, an understanding smile on his face.

THE INSTRUCTOR?

“R-right yeah. No, I’ve never taken a yoga class before.” You shook your head and introduced yourself in return, holding out your hand for a hand shake and being utterly shocked at Ben’s reaction.

“I’m a hugger, hope that’s alright darling.” He laughed softly, enveloping you in a warm embrace that could smelt iron. It certainly made you malleable, maybe even alittle bit melty.

The kicker though? A kiss to the side of your mouth.

You blinked at the audacity, did he just-? But as he pulled back you realized it wasn’t a creepy thing… it was a friendly thing. He just greets everyone that way because he’s a genuinely kind person. You knew that to be true because he turned and did the same to Luke, ending his with a firm pat to his shoulder.

A little green monster clawed it’s way through your stomach at the sight, but you drowned it quickly with the use of your knowledge as a sane person. You don’t know this guy. Luke brought you here because of this guy, he’s not after him, he’s after Beefy McBeef in the corner. You don’t know him, you’re purely getting jealous going off the fact that he is pretty and the realization that you’re not special.

You spent the rest of your time thinking peaceful thoughts to chase away the images of Luke’s tiny pea brain being squished betwixt your fingers for this horrible idea of his, while failing many attempts to mimic the variety of poses and stances Ben showed the class.

Even Beefy McBeef was doing better than you, and you could definitely see why Luke had his sights set on him. Masculine, but not in an intimidating way. He’s right, he’s soft but buff.

After class ended Luke insisted on dragging you over to Ben to say goodbye.

“Thanks, I enjoyed the class.” You said awkwardly, forcing a polite smile.

“Oh I’m so glad, I was hoping you would.” Ben said, a bright smile on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I’d love for you to come back next week.” He said sincerely, reaching out to give your arm a gentle squeeze that made your mouth dry.

“I’m not super sure that yoga is my thing, but I’ll definitely think about it.” You smiled, surely he’s just being nice. Like he was earlier.

“Well if yoga isn’t your thing, I’m sure we can find something that is, hmm?” He chuckled, ripping a scrap of paper from his class schedule and scribbling his number down.

“O-oh.” You blushed. That was the smoothest pickup line you’d ever heard… you couldn’t even be mad about it. “Thank you, I’ll… text you later?” You said unsure about your own words.

“No rush darling,” he gave you a warm smile that matched the softness of his hand that took yours and pressed his lips to your knuckles.

When he pulled back he’d somehow snuck the slip of paper into the palm of your hand, he left you there buffering. You turned slowly to look at Luke who was standing there with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Your turn.” You said sternly, nodding toward Mr. McBeef.

“No.” Luke said with an air of finality, scooping up his bag and spinning on his heel toward a few of his class friends.

Luke so kindly helped you make a fool of yourself. It’s only fair that you return the favor. You marched over to Beefy with a sweet smile.

“Hey!” You said, introducing yourself to him.

“Hey little lady.” He chuckled, taking your hand for a handshake, his palm dwarfing yours. “Names Han.”

“Han. Suits you.” You added with a small smile.

“So, Han. You know Luke?” You said, nodding in his direction.

“Y-yeah I do,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervousness you didn’t expect. “Why?”

“Luke is- he’s alittle shy.” You said in a hushed tone. “He’s been talking about you an awful lot.”

“Me?” Han questioned, a downturned grin creeping up his lips as his eyes darted between you and your friend who’d migrated across the gym.

“Yeah, you.” You laughed, “he’s got a massive crush.” You gave him an accomplished grin.

“H-he does?” He gulped, starting to get red in the cheeks. “He’s hardly ever spoken to me.”

“Like I said, he’s shy.” You reminded him gently. “You should go talk to him.”

“Yeah… I will.” He smiled, standing up and placing a kind hand on your shoulder.

“Go get ‘em Beefy McBeef.” You said in a tone so normal that he almost didn’t notice.

“What did you call me?” He laughed.

“Beefy McBeef.” You shrugged, unable to hide your devious smile. “that’s what Luke calls you.”

“No he doesn’t.” Han laughed, big and hearty, Luke turning his head with a jealous scowl until he realized he was laughing with you and it morphed into a mask of pure panic.

“Oh yes he does.” You said firmly. “Can you do me a favor?” You asked.

“Sure babe.” He laughed, still recovering.

“Introduce yourself to him as Beefy McBeef.” You said with pleading eyes.

“Seriously?” He laughed, almost a giggle if you could consider a guy like him a giggler. “What’d he do to you?”

“Just trust me when I say he deserves it.” You said sincerely.

“Can do.” He shook his head with a snort and made his way over to Luke.

“Hey, Luke.” He said, a slight tease in his tone. “Just wanted to introduce myself.” He stuck out his hand and watched with amusement as Luke struggled to comprehend what was happening.

Good. You thought. He deserves alittle embarrassment after the way he forced you into conversation with Ben.

“Beefy McBeef.” Han said, struggling to contain his laughter as he shook Luke’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

You watched from behind a nearby pillar as Luke turned fire truck red. He frantically searched for you until he spotted you with a massive grin and waggling fingers.

“I’ll kill you.” He threatened but there was no real malice in his voice.

“Sure you will Lukey.” You said with a laugh, running over to the wall where you’d propped up your bag and tossed it over your shoulder. Blowing Luke a kiss as you walked out of the gym.

After returning home you showered and sat down on the couch, resigning yourself to rotting on the couch. You’d done your good deed for the day, two actually:

1. attending a social event

2. helping Lukey talk to Han

You’d also done your one terrible deed for next few months. It’s never intentional that you do something bad, except this time it was. But was it really all that terrible if it got Luke what he wanted? Nope.

Add that to the good deeds list then.

3. embarrassing Lukey while helping him talk to Han

All’s fair in love and war.

Speaking of potential love and possible war, you rummaged through your bag to fish out that phone number, you even dumped out all the contents and searched your clothes as well.

It was no where to be found and you were actually kind of bummed about it. You can’t go ask for his number after all that, that’s just… embarrassing.

Shit.

Diary Entry: June 29th

Sweetheart.

If I knew you didn’t love Lukey, I’d have been scraping him off the sidewalk right about now. That little twerp was trying to set you up with someone else.

I know it’s not his fault. He’s being a good friend, he just wants you to be happy. He doesn’t know about me and that’s okay, it’s all okay.

But god, could he have picked a worse guy? I mean… really?

*Ooh look at me and my beautiful luscious locks.* GAG.

I could tell he was making you uncomfortable so I got rid of that little paper as quickly as possible. I would’ve hated for you to have the reminder of that fucking creep. The way he kissed your hand? What the hell was that?

So, I slipped it out of your bag and stayed around to listen to your sinister revenge plot.

I’ll say it again baby, you’re more like me than you know.

Ps. Beefy McBeef? Please.

Diary Entry: July 1st

I’m not an unreasonable guy baby. Really I’m not, but you’re on your phone so much. It just really bugs me you know? We don’t spend quality time together like we should.

I want you to dance around and sing. I want you to lay in the living room floor and color. I to watch you suck ass at MarioKart and laugh when you get frustrated and scrunch your nose.

I want to watch you read so I can read aloud to you, with my e-book copy. I want to watch The Witcher with you, I love that show. Shits cool as fuck, sword fights are so awesome I’ll ignore the fact that you only watch it for Geralt.

He’s not real and I am. So fuck it, can’t hurt to fantasize. I’d be one hell of a hypocrite if I said you couldn’t.

Anyway, sorry I’m rambling.

Are you okay? You’re just… quieter. Is it something I’ve done?

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I think I’ve figured it out sweet girl, I did some online research and replayed some footage. You’ve not been taking your birth control like you should. Come on baby you gotta remember to take it on time alright? Skipping it and taking it out of routine will mess you all up and we can’t have that.

I’ll try my best to remind you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You know me, I’m always worried.

Just… I’m gonna need to borrow your phone so that I can install some software for you. I’m just alittle concern that you’re hiding something from me princess. I just want to make sure you’re okay.

Diary Entry: July 2nd

That SleepyTime tea is a lifesaver.

God I just feel so relieved knowing that I can monitor you. I swear it’s not in a weird way, I just needed to make sure you were in a good headspace you know?

Your search history is so funny. I makes me happy to know you’re just as goofy as me. It also makes me happy that you’ve not searched anything concerning.

Your socials are clean. Your camera roll is full of cute pictures of you and your friends, as well as a few of your ex that I swiftly trashed for you. Maybe just a few naughty ones in the hidden album, don’t worry I didn’t stare. I’ll have plenty of time to do that in person.

Your texts are mostly dry. That’s a good thing though, that means you have more time for me. Even better? No dating apps. Good girl. Those are terribly dangerous, they should require a background check for users, you never know what kind of weirdo is on the other side of that screen.

I’m proud of you babydoll. You’re such a good girl, my good girl.

I’ll help you stay a good girl too. Your phone is mirrored to my laptop, so I’ll be able to see everything you see. No room for mix-ups or miscommunications between us this way.

Communication in relationships is so important.

Which is my reasoning behind the new phone software. You understand don’t you doll? I mean, I can only tell so much from your diary. You like to write and that’s amazing, it’s a great outlet and you should keep up with it. You’re the reason I started my own journal. You were so right when you said ‘it sorts my thoughts and soothes my heart’.

I never thought I’d be a journal guy. Look at me. Self care king.

Diary Entry: July 3rd

I have the most amazing news princess, after careful research and a very thorough deep dive into all of your neighbors, I’ve come up with the perfect solution to our distance issue.

Did you know that the old man across the hall from you is a widow? Poor guy, 10 years without his wife. They were married for 53 years. 53.

That’s the goal baby. That’s the kind of love I have for you.

If Alan Jared Nelson is anything like me, he’s miserable without Gloria Anne. Just like I’d be miserable without you.

He’s sick you know? He’s on a wait list for a liver, has been for 2 years. Isn’t that just the worst kind of hope? It’s cruel really.

Why give the man and his remaining family the hope of a ‘few’ more years, knowing damn well the guy is old enough that he might turn to dust they minute they cut into him. Why put him on the list at all? He’s 92. No one is giving him a liver.

The liver disease he’s diagnosed with is a doozy too, it’s aggressive, painful, and necrotic. He’s in constant pain. He’s got a port for morphine.

Do you know what kind of horrible pain a person has to be in to get a morphine port? Excruciating.

Alan has lived a long and beautiful life. Between the heartache of loosing his love and the debilitating disease he suffers from… it would be a mercy to lay him to rest don’t you think?

He’s a patriot through and through, he was in the army reserves. Now, that’s not my cup of tea but good for you Mr. Nelson.

America’s birthday is a good day for a guy like him to die isn’t it?

Date:

July 4th

Anakin counted the windows over and over, repeating the number in his head as he quietly trekked up the creaking rusted fire escape on Mr. Nelson’s side of the building. Not only was tonight a poetic release of this man’s long and happy existence, it was a very good cover.

Majority of the city was busy watching the fireworks at the celebration in the park, including you. Anakin had ensured you’d left before he even considered walking over to your building. He couldn’t bear the thought of committing a heinous, though arguably merciful, crime in the vicinity of such a pure form of radiance.

As expected the din of booming explosions and crackling sparks masked the noise of the quiet power drill Anakin used to remove bottom piece of the outer frame of the out-dated window. Internally cursing the fact that you lived in such an old building, there’s absolutely no way that these windows are up to code. It might make this task easier, but it made him a nervous wreck to think someone could break into your home in under a minute as long as they brought a drill and a magnet. The process was almost silent, you wouldn’t realize anything was amiss until it was too late.

Once the piece of frame was laid aside Anakin used the heavy duty magnet to coax the loose curved clasp that held the window shut, out of the hoop that it rested in. He sighed, thinking he should definitely complain to the super once he moved in. The ease of breaking and entering wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

Sure it was a wonderful thing for Anakin, there would be absolutely no trace of the break in. The man is old, there would be no autopsy, there are no outdoor cameras on this building or the one next to it. This unit is tucked into a well hidden alleyway and no one saw him walk this way. But his worries were based on thoughts of you and your well-being.

Anakin sprayed Wd-40 along the tracks of the metallic frame and waited a moment before wiping off the excess, hopefully ensuring a silent entry.

The moment of truth arrived, Anakin lifted the window just a hair to test it. Finding it whisper quiet despite its age as he opened it and stepped inside.

The interior of the home was just as you’d expect, family pictures, a fridge covered in cards and handwritten reminders. An obscene amount of carved wooden trinkets and the forever mysterious wooden fruit that seemed to adorn the tables of many an old folks homes. Apples and roosters strewn about the space in the form of paintings, lampshades and oddly detailed itchy blankets.

A gorgeous abalone jewelry dish held a silver pendant, trapped beneath was an intricate lace cover that seemed to be made specifically for the coffee table they rested on. Upon closer inspection Anakin determined that it was tailor made. Gloria Anne Nelson must’ve been a talented craftswomen, the quality of work was amazing.

Alan’s display of his wife’s work, her jewelry dish and her favorite engraved pendant… he’d made an altar for her and probably didn’t even realize it. He’d even placed a tall, thick white candle next to the abalone dish. It left Anakin with a lump in his throat, imagining the horrible loneliness this man must feel.

He stood up from his crouched position and took a breath, smoothing his shirt to iron out his emotions. There would be time for proper mourning and reflection later.

He walked toward the short hall that housed Alan’s bed room and bathroom, but stopped short when something on the wall caught his attention.

A calendar depicting a summertime scene of a lake and a small fishing boat was tacked to the wall above the dock for his home phone, a small note pad and pen resting beside it.

A small smile turning the corner of his lip, the sight bringing a fond memory of his grandmother keeping a set-up very similar to this. Must be a universal old person habit.

He stepped closer to read the writing in the small squares and came to the realization that this calendar was not up to date. This calendar was from 2013, ten years ago.

Anakin knew from his deep dive into the Nelson’s life that Gloria had passed on July 16th, but he didn’t realize that July 4th was the anniversary of Gloria and Alan’s first kiss.

She’d kept up with that anniversary for the entirety of 53 years. Poetic.

He took a look around the kitchenette and living room again. Really and truly looking this time, not just glazing over the bigger items, the things that caught his eye. This time he looked at the in between.

He wished he hadn’t. He wished he hadn’t cared enough to pay attention, it was something he’d never forget, an achievement he’d strive for for the rest of his life.

Alan’s home was a shrine.

A neatly kept time capsule full of warmth and fondness. It oozed from the very walls of the space. Gloria had never stepped foot in this space, but she dominated every inch of it. Her devoted husband had rebuilt his life in her image, even in death he worshipped her just as Anakin worshipped you.

A heavy weight settled in Anakin’s heart, this was the right choice. This confirmed it.

He quietly entered the bedroom, Alan’s C-PAP machine humming with a rhythmic flow of air, in, *scish*, *puftk*, out. It was soothing in a strange way, or maybe it was just a relief from the suffocating silence that compressed Anakin’s lungs when he was absorbing the space past the door.

He kneeled at the edge of the bed, pulling a small tube of lidocaine from his jacket hoodie pocket, along with a pair of gloves that he quickly donned. Wincing at the snap of the latex against his sweating palms, but the man continued his peaceful slumber, unaware that it would be his last.

He lifted the corner of the blanket and grimaced as he placed a small dollop of the cream via his index finger between Alan’s fourth and fifth toes. He didn’t even flinch.

Anakin kept the time on his watch and waited until the ointment did it’s job to numb the tender flesh. Fishing a small needle meant for insulin injections from a ziploc bag in pocket. Drawing a bit of air into barrel before carefully pricking the soft skin, holding his breath as his victim twitched.

When he stilled Anakin gently pushed the plunger and created a pocket of air in a vein that would soon end this poor souls life on earth. He withdrew the needle and stored it and the gloves in the ziploc bag, returning the blanket to its previous position.

He should’ve left then, but morbid curiosity had a tight hand around his wrist. Urging him to stay and wait out this event to its completion. So he tugged up his hood and stood motionless.

No one should be alone in their last moments. The least Anakin could do is provide silent support from the darkened corner. He counted the seconds on his watch until the man’s fingers twitched and his throat visibly tightened as a gurgled ball of air left his lungs. His eyes opened, wide and terrified as his body acted of its on volition.

Wrinkled hands weakly pawing at the C-PAP that was fitted over his head, Anakin watched his chest heave and collapse rapidly, the swell of his ribcage caving in on itself with each labored breath.

He’d heard of the ‘death rattle’ before but had never considered it to be anything other than a wives tale, until now. Alan’s choked coughs and gasping breaths reverberated in his chest and rolled up the stretch of his esophagus, coming out in a groan muffled by his lolled tongue.

He brought his fist to his chest in weak thumps, while his other reached over the side of the bed in the general vicinity of the night stand. It’s incredible what the human brain is capable of during such critical moments of stress. Anakin watch with a fascination that went beyond curiosity, wondering how the hell this guy was aware enough to try to grab the phone laying there.

Alan let his head fall to the side and his fading eyes blurred, but didn’t miss Anakin’s figure. To him, he was just a silhouette of midnight black. For some reason Anakin noticed a bit of the fear leave Alan’s tired eyes, softening as though he was accepting his quickly approaching end.

He stopped struggling, stopped reaching for the phone and instead held out a shaking hand to Anakin as though he wanted him to take it.

What kind of monster would deny a dying man?

He stepped forward on silent feet until he clasped the man’s wrist and felt his weak grip on his. The leathery skin was clammy, sickly to the touch and it made Anakin’s stomach churn.

“Death?” A small creaking attempt at the word eeked out of Alan’s lips.

“Yes sir.” Anakin responded. Was it true? No. But was it a lie? Also no. He was and he wasn’t.

“A-about…” the old man heaved, spittle flying from his mouth. “About damn time.”

Anakin was usually quick on his feet with his quips but this man’s nonchalant attitude, his welcoming of his fate was unexpected.

“Sorry Mr. Nelson.” He chuckled. “I’m a very busy man.”

He laughed. A rare occasion if not the only occasion that someone’s dying breath was a laugh. Anakin’s brow pinched together, wetting his lips with his tongue before chewing the inside of his cheek as he watched the life drain from his eyes.

Once his hand went slack and limp Anakin gently laid it across his chest, checked for a pulse and found none. He patted the old man’s shoulder and turned to exit the room, he didn’t look back and he didn’t take another breath until he set foot on the fire escape and the window was shut. Making quick work of closing the clasp and reassembling the metal frame.

He took a shaky breath and checked his watch. Bewildered by the passing of time. He literally couldn’t comprehend it, pulling out his phone to confirm. The times were indeed matching.

Three minutes and 57 seconds.

He was only inside for three minutes and 57 seconds. He felt like hours of his life had flown by, he felt both aged and more alive than he’d ever been. The only thing he could compare this feeling to was… the feeling he got because of you.

He’d done a good thing.

Alan said so himself, the man was ready, beyond ready to embrace death. Anakin had done him a favor by taking his life returning his soul to his soulmate.

It gave him a warm feeling in his chest. He thought maybe he would feel sick, he almost did, until he didn’t. He decided not to question his contentment, instead pocketing it to tuck away in the recess of his mind that he stored his more unhealthy thoughts and experiences in.

He liked that about himself, his ability to compartmentalize at will. He liked to be neat and tidy, it was only natural that his mind mirror that. He knew that it was just his mind’s creation; his mind didn’t really look like a neat room of filing cabinets.

He had one for childhood memories, one for his favorite happy memories, one for his mother, one for his friends, one for his work life, one for his home life. But the two most important things housed in the confines of his skull were the golden pedestal holding the beautifully crafted, one of a kind ceramic vase he poured his love for you into; and The Pit.

He didn’t like The Pit. His inner self kindly transported the things that belonged there via a lockbox and unceremoniously tossed it over the edge at a safe distance. Even the figment of his imagination in this scenario was too afraid to peer over the edge of the chasm. He’d never heard anything hit the bottom, if he got too close he would fall, and fall, and fall, and fall, and fall for eternity.

Then what would you do? Suffer through a sad existence like poor Mr. Nelson?

No. He can’t let that happen. He won’t let that happen. You’re to precious, too pure, too good to experience anything but radiant joy.

He breathed in relief as he found himself suddenly outside his front door, he’d traveled on autopilot.

He showered and tucked himself into bed, exhausted and drained emotionally. But not too much, not enough that he could neglect his duties. He checked the tracker on his phone, pleaded to see that you were abiding by your unspoken agreed upon curfew. Home before 2:00am. Always.

It was only 12:30. Good job princess.

He waited, following the little blue dot to the larger red one and switched over to the live camera feed and witnessed you chatting happily on your phone as you trotted up the stairs.

He thanked his past self from this morning and grabbed the laptop from his nightstand and patiently waited for the mirror image of your phone updated.

Luke. It was just Luke making sure you got home safe; maybe Luke wasn’t too bad after all. He wasn’t a threat to Anakin in anyway and he was concerned with your well-being. Not as much himself of course but enough that Anakin could throw a smidgen of respect his way, it’s nice to know he already has something in common with your best friend.

He did his routine night-time walk through of your device, seeing that you’d turned on your alarms for the next day already. He smiled fondly, his sleepy girl.

He turned up the sound on your bedroom camera, plugging up his phone and putting the laptop on the night stand. He placed his phone next to his head and listened to your breathing slow and relax.

He loved this. Sleeping with the sound of your soft snores and mumbled sleepy words. It was an intimacy that he craved to manifest into the flesh world.

Soon he would.

Someone please tell me that if you’ve waitressed/known a waitress who’s done shit like that?? If not I just told on myself for being a big fat liar.

Part Four

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