#So I’d have to pay for it out of my own pocket and… my pocket’s kind of small. I’m a freelance animator.

[crtter]

Now I’ve gotten many an American on this post talking about how they’ve driven longer than this (about 19h) before. Which is funny, because I never said it’s an impossible trip to make! Just one I had yet to do it myself. Bit out of the way, y’know? It’s not unheard of for a person from, say, Texas to have never been to New York to see the Statue of Liberty, is it? But it’s not like people over here don’t go on trips this long or even longer, though! It’s pretty common, actually. In fact, check this out:

We’re about the same size! You’re the big guys from the north and we’re the big guys from the south. I often say that the town I’m going to move to in the future is “a quick trip away” from the city I live in right now but it’s actually five hours away, heh.

That being said, though: We’re talking driving here, you silly goose! Bringing up planes is cheating. Of course 1000 km is nothing if you’re flying there. It’s like three hours. Barely enough time to see a movie. I’ve traveled like 11000 km by plane before (my dad lives in Saudi Arabia). In fact, I’ve been to Disney World in Florida myself! it’s the number one international travel choice for Brazilians, apparently. Warm enough so we don’t keel over and die of exposure AND Mickey’s there.

”How come you’ve never seen the Amazon rainforest if you’re from Brazil?” big country

[tiaa28]

High On My Best Friend

Warning: Smoking weed, Smut (his dick is pierced, fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, pet names, ass smacking. Lmk if I missed any)

​​Summary: You've been best friends with Rafe for as long as you can remember, but one night you threw caution to the wind and crossed a line.

WC: 5K

Part 2

A/n: This fic was originally posted with a different person but my bestie convinced me to change it Rafe...so here it is<3

Sending a quick text to let him know I was here, I shove the phone into my back pocket and trudge down his long ass driveway. Normally I’d give more of a heads-up just in case he had company over–but not tonight. I needed some clarity, and the only way I was ever able to get that feeling was through him. So if he’s busy… he can just get over it and let me sulk in a corner or something. 

Without bothering to knock–because I know he wouldn’t hear me anyway. Music and smoke hits me like a train when I open the door and step inside, making sure to lock it behind me. 

“Rafe?” I call out, tossing my bag onto the foyer table and peeling my jacket off of my arms. I glance around the massive living room, kicking my shoes off and hanging my jacket on the coat rack before wandering further into the room. An open bottle of beer is on the coffee table, surrounded by baggies of pre-rolled joints.

The bottle is still cold as I grab it, so wherever he is, he hasn’t been gone long. I take a long drink of the beer, fighting the urge to cringe at the taste and fall down onto the middle couch cushion. “Rafe…” I sing, observing the staircase to make sure I don’t see him coming. “If you don’t want me to smoke without you, tell me now.”

Another few seconds of silence, and I grin to myself as I sit up straight. Placing the bottle between my legs, I reach for the baggie of prerolls. 

“Don’t fuckin’ touch my shit.” 

Beer splashes on top of my thighs, soaking through the jeans as I jump at his voice. “Warn someone next time, Rafe!” 

“Warn someone that I’m watching them steal my shit?” He scoffs, and I push my hair from my face as I stand from the couch, setting the now empty bottle. “Makes sense.” 

“Don’t be a dick,” I groan, smoothing my hands over my thighs in an attempt to get as much beer off of me as I can, “I would’ve paid for it obviously.” 

He steps closer to me, and I finally look up at him. My lungs deflate and my words are stolen as I take in his bare chest. “Fuck you. You never pay.” He rolls his eyes, “What’re you even doin’ here? Didn’t you have a date or something?” 

I groan and he laughs, “that bad?” 

“I’m here at two in the morning and not with him–isn’t that obvious?” 

“Thought ya missed me.” He pouts his lower lip, leaning in closer and has my breath catching in my throat. I freeze as he reaches his hand towards me, letting it hover over the curve of my hip. “Give me my shit.” 

I hadn’t even realized I was still holding the baggie until he ripped it from my hand and carelessly tossed it back onto the coffee table. “Could you at least get me a towel or something to clean up your beer?” 

“The beer you spilled, you mean?” 

My eyes are trailing across his bare chest, trying my best to memorize each muscle. I’ve seen him shirtless countless times but… I haven’t really noticed how defined he is. “You fuckin’ deaf now?” The music dies as he cuts it off, presumably from the phone in his hand, “you need a towel? Here.”

Without blinking, Rafe is pulling the towel from around his waist and tossing it at me. My eyes have a mind of their own as they fall down his body, and disappointment floods my chest when I see the boxers riding low on his hips. Rafe hums my name teasingly. 

Picking the towel off the ground at my feet, I roll my eyes. “Not much to see anyway, Cameron. Quit being a dickhead and come help me.”

“Tell me why you’re at my house and not with that dick, and I will.” 

“He was an asshole.” I shrug, wiping the towel on my thighs before squatting down to the small puddle at my feet. 

I keep my eyes trained on the floor as he approaches me, “you fuckin’ with me?”

“Rafe,” I laugh, looking up through my lashes, “he didn’t do anything to me, it’s cool. He just wasted my time so I left as soon as I had the chance.” My gaze travels down his torso, lingering a second longer than needed. Jesus Christ. “Alright, got it.” I stand up, swallowing roughly, “can you put some fucking clothes on? It’s weird.”

He rolls his eyes and turns away, walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Why’re you bein’ fucking weird?” He calls out from upstairs.

Maybe because I just wasted three hours of my night on a guy who didn’t care–or know how to–use his dick properly and I’m fucking frustrated and horny. 

I hear him rustling around in his room, and my mind wanders to what he’s picking out to wear. Would it be those grey sweats that hang low on his waist? I’ve only ever seen the band of his boxers when his shirts would ride up.

Oh my God. Why am I thinking about this shit? This is my best friend.

“I’m not being weird,” I argue, running my palms down my face. “I just wanted to smoke before going home, but if it’s a problem I can leave–”

My words are cut off as he makes his way back down to the living room, still shirtless but now sporting a pair of red gym shorts. “Oh, so you’re just usin’ me, huh?” 

“No–”

“And to think I was goin’ to be nice and bring you something to change into,” his lips wrap around the now lit joint, inhaling deeply, “but you can sit in your beer covered jeans now and think about how shitty you are.” 

I finally spot the folded sweatpants in his hand, right before he’s tossing them at my face with a smirk on his lips. His brow quirks as he watches me, “well?” He leans against the casing of the staircase with his hip, “the faster you get changed, the faster you can smoke. Hurry up or I’m smokin’ without you.” 

Maybe it’s the lingering smoke in the air, or maybe it’s the couple of shots I took to make it through my god awful hookup, but whatever it is, it has me unbuttoning my jeans as I hold his eye contact. 

He doesn’t make it subtle as his eyes rake over my legs, taking in every bare inch as the jeans pool around my ankles. The joint finds his lips again, taking in a long pool of smoke but not inhaling into his lungs. A waterfall of smoke falls from his lips, and he quickly inhales it as he pushes off of the stairs. 

Oh shit. I reach for the sweats behind me, letting my fingertips ghost over the fabric for a second. No, you know what? Fuck it. If games is what he wants to play, I’m in.

“Make yourself useful and grab me a beer since you spilled mine.” Rafe comments, brushing past me to fall onto the couch and propping his feet onto the coffee table in front of me.

“Dick.” I huff, taking the joint from between his lips and wrapping mine around it.  He smirks as I wait for him to move his legs, “say please.” 

Rafe drops his feet and motions me on. Just as I pass by him, his hand connects with my ass roughly. Gasping in a small breath, I look over my shoulder to find him grinning widely at me. “Please, sweetheart?” He tilts his head slightly, feigning the best innocent expression he could possibly muster. 

I blow the smoke towards him before sauntering towards the wet bar. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t bother acknowledging it. There’s something gratifying about knowing someone who looks like finds me alluring. 

“Did I interrupt any plans for you tonight?” I ask, pulling open the mini-fridge and bending at the waist to search for the beer. 

It’s an excuse to show my ass more considering the bottles are on the top rack, in front of everything else, but Rafe isn’t complaining, so I’m not stopping. Cool air bites at my skin as my t-shirt bunches at my waist, and I’m actually fucking thankful I wore a good pair of underwear today. 

They were new, specifically bought for tonight—which hopefully won’t be a waste now—and did nothing to actually hide anything. Black, seamless nylon hugs my curves, the band reaching just above my hips with a high cutout to expose my outer thighs. 

“Can’t ya tell?” He laughs, “was about to have a huge party. Loads of people, fuck ton of drinks.” I hold the necks of the bottles with one hand, taking a hit of the joint as I walk back to the couch, “Don’t be stupid, c’mon.” He pats the cushion next to him and takes the extended bottle. 

Rafe reclines into a more comfortable position as I plop down next to him, draping my legs over his lap. “Loads of people? Good joke,” he scrunches his brow and twists the cap of his beer off, “you know I’m your only friend who can stand to actually be around you.” 

“Always so nice.” He teases, letting the butt of the bottle rest on the arm of the couch, shaking his head softly. “Here.” 

He passes the joint as I toss my cap onto the coffee table, “I am nice. It’s why you keep me around.” 

“True.” He shrugs, taking another drink and taking a deep breath. “So your date—”

“Nope.” I cut him off, shifting closer so my chest is barely touching his shoulder. I carefully sit my drink down on the floor beside me. He watches intently as my lips circle around the rolled paper, the flames catching in his eyes as I inhale. Leaving it burning inside the ashtray at my side, I scoot impossibly closer. 

He holds my gaze as I reach for his jaw, pulling our faces close together. I can feel his muscles tense against my body, but he willingly ghosts his lips against mine. Rafe’s hand runs along the expanse of my leg, his fingers splaying over my hip bone. Both of our lips part as I slowly blow the smoke into his mouth, and he easily takes it.

My skin burns as the tips of his fingers slink under the band of my thong, biting into my skin with need. “I don’t want to think about him.” I whisper, not pulling away as my lips brush against his with every word as Rafe whispers my name. 

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say my name like that, “What are you doing?” 

“Whatever you'll let me do.” My heart is beating against my ribcage, rapidly beating as Rafe groans, deep from within his chest. “Tell me you don’t want this—that you don’t want me—and I’ll stop.”

Fingertips grip onto the flesh of my hip before I’m being lifted from my position and pulled down onto his lap. “Sweetheart,” he hums, brushing some of my hair behind my ear, “we both know I’ve been dreamin’ of this night for years. Let me make you feel good, let me fuck that other guy out of your mind.” 

The hand on my jaw travels down my neck, coursing down my neck to my abdomen, leaving a fire burning on my skin at the wake of his fingers. Rafe’s other hand guides me closer to his body, our chests meeting as his hand drifts lower. 

A small gasp forces its way from my lips as he dips his below my underwear, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Slow, careful circles of his fingers have my heart nearly beating from my chest. “Have you been this wet since you got here? Why didn’t you say something sooner, sweetheart? I could’ve helped you, sweet girl.” 

My forehead falls against his as he speeds up the circling of his fingers, applying more pressure as I fight for my breath. I close the distance between us, forming my lips to his. Rafe swallows every pant and moan I give him, his own rumbling deep from within his chest. “Good, there ya go. Use my fingers, baby. Make a fuckin’ mess all over me.” He praises as I grind my hips down against his hand. 

Rafe takes the opportunity of my parted lips to slip his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like beer, and the remnants of smoke lingers on our tongues. “Please?” My voice is airy, and whiny, a tone I’ve never used with a guy before. 

“Mmm, please what?” He teases me, gripping my ass with his free hand so roughly I know there’s bound to be indents. “Tell me what you need, baby.” 

His lips travel to my neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of my jaw. “I want you to fuck me. Please.” 

I can feel him smirk against my skin, and if I weren't already on the cusp of cumming I’d tell him to fuck off—but he feels too good. “Since you asked so nicely.”

“Raise up.” He taps my ass, and I struggle onto shaky legs. Rafe removes his hand from my underwear, leaving every inch of me buzzing, but he’s quick to jerk them off of my legs and replace them with his hands. “You’re unfuckingbelievable…” he mutters, catching my eyes as I hold onto his shoulders for support. “Ya sure this is what you want? Gotta tell me now, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, yes—yes I want you.” I nod, reaching down between us to pull his shorts off. Rafe lifts his hips, making sure to keep a hold on me, and kicks them off. It’s like a game of who can get undressed quicker; he is tugging at his boxers as I pull my t-shirt off. 

As soon as the shirt hits the floor, Rafe pulls me flush against his body. Our chests are pressed against one another’s, and we’re stealing each other’s air. “Fuck…” he groans as I grip onto the base of his dick, smoothing my palm up and down slowly. 

His head meets the back of the couch roughly, his fingers digging into my bare hips. “Just like that, sweetheart… fuck.” 

Leaning forward, I press my mouth to his neck as I keep the steady, teasing pace of stroking him. I can feel his pulse underneath my lips; bounding and quick. “That’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He breathily praises, his hand travelling up the expanse of my back. His blunt nails rake across my skin, until cupping the back of my neck and forcing my lips onto his. 

With his free hand, he pulls my hand from around his dick and places it on his shoulder, letting that hand trail down my curves with hunger. From below, he raises his hips while using the grip on my hip to guide my own. “Ya ready, sweetheart?” Rafe asks against my lips, a low, desperate tone lacing his voice. 

“Yes, please. Fuck me.” I whisper, my entire body on fire with anticipation. 

I don’t think I’ve realized how long I’ve waited for this until just now. 

Slowly, Rafe lifts my hips slightly. His eyes stay glued on mine when he lines himself up, and slowly guides me down onto his dick. Both of our lips part, silently gasping at the feeling of him inside of me. “Holy fuck, oh my god.” I moan as I settle down onto his lap, taking him all the way in. 

Every inch is a delicious pain, stretching me and filling me like I’ve never felt before. Rafe steals every breath I offer, his lips never more than an inch from mine as he allows me time to adjust. “Raf—what—.”

“It’s a piercing.” He answers my broken question, a sly smirk on his lips. “It’ll feel good for you, I promise.” 

That much I didn’t doubt. I could already feel it hitting my g-spot from just sitting. I haven’t moved an inch, and my stomach is tightening beyond belief. “C’mon, sweetheart… you good for me to move? I’m goin’ fucking crazy here.” 

I nod my head a bit too quickly, and Rafe lets out an airy breath. “There’s my good girl. I’ll go slow, okay?” 

Rafe holds me in place as he lifts his hips even further into me. “Jesus Christ…” he groans, keeping the slow, torturous pace. In and out, incredibly deep with each thrust. A small gasp leaves my lips as he uses the hand at the nape of my neck to pull my body to sit straight. My hands land on his chest to support my weight, “wanna see your face as I fuck you until you’re screaming my name.” 

“Yeah, god—yes. Anything.” 

He gives a devilish grin, and suddenly thrusts into me. It’s rough, it’s deep. It’s mind-numbing. “Feel how deep I am, sweetheart?” He stutters, choking on his own moan. Rolling his hips, I nearly collapse as his piercing rubs against my g-spot continuously. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” 

I nod, and he releases the hold on my hair. It takes everything in me not to fall forward as he holds my hips a bit higher, pounding into me at a much quicker pace. Using the flesh of my ass, he pulls me down to meet every movement roughly. 

All I can hear is the sound of our mixed moans and grunts, the slapping of skin on skin. “Rafe—,” his name is broken between breaths, whiny and as desperate as I feel. “Kiss me, please?” 

He responds immediately. His mouth finds mine, passionately and hungry. They move in tandem, tongue and teeth clashing with desperation. 

I can feel myself clenching around him as he keeps the same rhythm, not once deterring from the pace he created. He only pauses when I start grinding my hips down onto him, lifting and dropping down with intent. With each moan he gives me, I make sure to settle down until he’s completely inside of me. “Get up.” He instructs, desperately trying to stand with me still sitting on top of him. 

Without question I’m standing, only to be quickly bent over the arm of the couch. He guides my face down onto the couch pillow carefully, stepping behind me so I feel him against my ass. “You fucking beautiful… have I said that before, sweetheart?” 

I shiver as his fingertips dance down my spine, palming my ass before smacking each cheek roughly. He smooths over the sensitive area when I hiss out, “You can take it, can’t you?” I nod against the pillow, allowing him to step between my legs and line himself up again, “Atta girl.” 

With another smack on my ass, rougher than before, I don’t have time to react before he’s thrusting inside of me again. “God damn.” He grunts, “how does this feel for you?” 

“Amazing. Unbelievable.” I answer honestly, chasing my breath as he pounds into me again. “Like that, right there.” 

Rafe listens, keeping the same pace as he continuously hits my g-spot and reaches deep inside of me. His chest presses against my back as he bends slightly over my body, a soft kiss to my shoulder. The gentle gesture is accompanied by a sharp jut of his hips, a cry emitting from my lips at the feeling. 

“There ya go,” he praises, slamming into me again, “Let me hear how good I make you feel, baby. You can do better than that. Don’t hold out on me now.” 

His name falls from my lips like a prayer as I spasm around him, and my mind goes completely blank as my body burns with pleasure. Rafe moans loudly as I come, holding onto my hip so hard that it will definitely leave marks tomorrow. 

Our moans meld into one, a beautiful, delicious harmony that has my stomach fluttering. Rafe pushes my hair from the side of my face with one hand, holding my eyes as his thrusts become sloppy. “You’re so beautiful—fuck.” 

Lips parted, jaw unlocked as he shoved into me, bottoming out. He looks like a piece of art; perfectly sculpted, his jawline, his arms, chest, lips, eyes. The pleasure clouding every inch of him has me shivering, and he hisses out. “Shit, oh my god.” He chuckles breathily, falling limp on top of my back. “Stop clenching around me like that sweetheart, or I’m going to lose my mind.” 

“Good.” I hum, smiling into the pillow. 

We lay like that for a minute, before Rafe finally stands with a groan. “I’m gonna pull out now, you okay?” He waits for my nod and then slowly, teasingly, pulls out of me and steps away. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” 

My entire body is on fire as I watch him disappear. Tense and relaxed all at once. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before. Like my mind is hot-wired but also exhausted. 

Rafe reappears with a rag in one hand and a smirk playing on his lips. “Look at you… a complete mess.” He pulls his lower lip between his teeth as he walks back towards me, circling the couch to stand behind me. “Spread your legs, baby.” He instructs, his voice softer, void of any teasing or cockiness. He helps me separate them with a hand on my inner thigh, and I hear him sink to his knees. 

“Shit.” I hiss as the cool rag touches my still sensitive cunt. 

“Sorry.” He murmurs, “I’ll be gentle.” Keeping his promise like before, he is easy. With soft touches and delicate swipes of the rag, I’m melting further and further into the couch. 

All too soon, he is standing again and kissing my ass as he comes up. “Step into the sweats.” He helps my otherwise useless legs into the soft material and pulls them up until they’re settled on my waist. “You good to walk? We can crash in my room—if you want.” 

“Aren’t you a cocky fuck? I can walk.” I huff, holding back a groan as I stand straight. He hands me the t-shirt with a smirk. “Stop smilin’.” 

His cologne envelopes me as the material falls over my torso, and I fight back the urge to take a deep inhale. Rafe motions me forward, biting back his smile by turning away and making sure the joint is stubbed out and the beers are cleaned up. 

I don’t even think I take three full steps before stumbling into the wall. Rafe laughs, a full bodied one that has my own lips curling up at the corners. “You done bein’ a brat?” He asks, coming up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist and picking me up, “let me help you.” 

“You wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t a brat.” I counter, wrapping my legs around his waist and he hums in agreement, guiding us up the stairs and to his room.

“You’re right.” Flicking on the light, he places me into the bed. “But still… wouldn’t hurt you to just shut the fuck up sometimes.” 

Rafe climbs in, hovering over top of me. “You’re an asshole, did you know that?” I circle my arms around his neck, raking my nails across the exposed skin lightly. 

“You never fail to remind me.” He presses his forehead against mine, falling down onto his forearms so our bodies are flush against one another. “Do you want me to stay here with you? I can sleep in another room if you…” 

“Rafe.” I whisper, “stay. I don’t want you going anywhere else.” 

He searches my eyes for a moment, finally deciding that I’m being honest with him and a small smile graces his perfectly shaped lips. “Okay.” 

Our lips meet, much softer and slower than earlier tonight. Something is different now, open and honest. Maybe he’s been wanting this, too. 

After a few minutes, he parts with a dopey smirk. “Get some sleep, sweet girl. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Rafe wraps his arms around me when he rolls off, pulling me inside his side. 

“You better be.” I grin, slipping my leg between his. His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he tucks his chin on top of my head. “Goodnight.” 

“Night.” He mumbles, lifting the cover over us and relaxer further into the bed. 

-

It’s been thirty minutes of us lying here. My back is to his chest now, his arm resting on my stomach. I’d think he was asleep if it wasn’t for the small circles he’s drawing on my skin. He hasn’t said a word, and neither have I, but the silence isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It’s… nice? 

Usually, we’re both bickering back and forth, but this is different. 

His alarm clock on the table next to me fades into a blur as I slowly blink, my eyes heavy with sleep, replaying what we did in my head…over and over again. Rafe repositions behind me, pulling me in closer, his lips ghosting on my exposed neck. 

I lay completely still, trying my best to keep my heartbeat regular as his hand trails lower down my stomach. His fingertips tease the band of the sweats, causing goosebumps to rise. 

Rafe presses a kiss to my pulse point, grazing his fingers deeper under the fabric. Against all efforts, my muscles tighten. “I know you’re awake…” he mutters with his lips pressed against me, “I can feel your heartbeat.” 

“What’re you doing?” I ask breathless, fidgeting as his hand disappears under the sweats completely. 

“Nothin’, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” His breath is hot against the side of my face, “do you want me to stop?” 

My legs part on their own accord as I roll onto my back, “Stop what? Thought you weren’t doing anything.” 

He props himself on his elbow, leaning over my body and pressing his lips to mine. He slowly circles his fingertip over my clit, eagerly swallowing my moan into his mouth. I hold his face as his tongue traces over my bottom lip, in the same moment he dips his finger further down my cunt. “Oh, sweet girl, why didn’t you tell me you were layin’ here like this?” 

“Didn’t want to bother you.” I groan, arching my back as he presses his finger inside of me. 

“Look at me.” He whispers, pulling away from my lips with a serious expression painted on his face. “You never,” he rocks his finger back into me, harsher and deeper, “bother me. I’m fuckin’ honored you’re like this for me.” 

Rafe pushes my legs further apart, trapping one under his and pressing it into the mattress. “How is this?” He asks, curling his finger and using his thumb to hold pressure on my clit as he thrusts his finger into me. “Need more, baby?” 

I nod, breathless and desperate. Rafe pulls his hand from me, holding my eyes as he licks his fingers, humming out in pleasure at the taste. I kick the sweats down, opening myself further for him. “Good girl,” he mutters, pressing a wet kiss to the corner of my jaw. “Yeah? Is that better?”

Two fingers rock into me, curling and hitting my g-spot with each thrust. “Yes, fuck.” I moan, my back arching again as he circles my clit with his thumb at the same pace that his fingers rock into me. “Feels amazing.” 

My stomach tightens, a white-burning trailing up my spine as he dips deeper into me. Rafe presses a kiss onto my collarbone, keeping his mouth glued to my body as he moves further down and settling between my legs. 

Glancing down at him, he has a smirk on his lips as he kisses my inner thigh, staring at me and watching my reaction. “Oh, fuc—,” my words are cut off when his tongue replaces his thumb, flicking and circling it around my clit with his fingers still thrusting in and out of me. 

He moans against me, the vibrations running deep through my body. “Shit, Rafe.” He forces my leg down with one hand as his lips close around my clit, my entire body jerking with each suck. 

“You’re unbelievable.” He groans against my cunt, sliding his tongue further down and dipping it inside of me as his fingers trail to my clit. His eyes flick back up to me, mine already trained on him. “You like watching, huh? Dirty fuckin’ slut.” I clutch at the sheets and nod a bit deliriously. “Good. Keep those pretty eyes on me.” 

He picks the leg up that he had been holding down, angling it further to the side so he has better access to me. I hook it around his shoulder, and he smirks against me, using my hips to pull me closer to his face. 

My entire body shakes as I cry out, moaning and whimpering his name with each breath. He holds me in place as I attempt to close my thighs around his head, urging on my high with soft licks and gentle sucks. “Such a fuckin’ perfect cunt.” He praises as I come undone on his tongue. 

As I fall back down onto the mattress, my entire body is on fire. Sweat glistens on my skin from the small bit of moonlight pouring through his curtains, and Rafe crawls up my body. Circling my arms around his neck, I pull our lips together in haste. I hum at the taste of me on his tongue, and my mind buzzes with a feather-light freedom I’ve never felt before. 

For the second time tonight, Rafe is rolling off of me and pulling me into his side. We’ve cuddled before—it’s inevitable when you’ve been friends for as long as we have—but it’s never crossed the line past platonic. There’s been a few drunken nights where our hands would roam each other’s bodies when dancing, but nothing ever came from it. 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart.” He murmurs, his accent thick with sleep. A soft kiss to the side of my head, he pulls me tighter into him. “M’glad you came over tonight.”

“Me too.” I smile lazily, snuggling my head into his chest. 

I feel weightless, and heavy all at once. Like everything has clicked into its rightful place and I’m where I’m meant to be. My mind is clear and hazy, and that’s when it hits me—

I’m high on him. 

On my best friend. On Rafe fucking Cameron.

[dcxdpdabbles]

#Holiday Requests your blogs are the sole reason i visit tumblr in the first place. Thank you for feeding my dcxdp brain rot the appreciation is very much reciprocated and i’d like to humbly request a continuation for Jason’s Doll or Mr. Flavor!

After the smear campaign had been dealt with, Tim took time to carefully convince his employees that Scarecrow had somehow dosed the whole building in Fear Gas; that way, they would return to work once he gave everyone a month off with pay to "clean out the vents".

He did not want people to walk away thinking Danny the doll was by any means haunted. It would undo every last attempt to fix Jason's image, which he had carefully constructed.

In a city like Gotham, being dosed with gas was so common that no one batted an eye when Tim called them back. Many of the employees were overjoyed by the paid vacation.

The young CEO had even gone as far as to spread rumors that no one really saw the alleged doll, causing people to assume there was mass hysteria. Everyone was happier this way.

He felt like he could finally relax after weeks of meticulous planning. He went into work assuming the only stress he would experience would be the typical CEO kind.

Then Jason, needing a favor, marched into his office within the first hour.

Tim stares at the doll sitting on his office desk, feeling the blood drain from his face as his brother happily chatters.

"He usually likes to sit by windows. Don't forget to clean him with a damp, warm cloth; his clothes are machine washable." Jason said, laying out some of Danny's tea cup sets. Apparently, his brother had been shopping. "Danny usually has his tea daily at one, but if you're working, I'm sure he'll understand. He can wait."

"Jay..."Tim started feeling Danny staring into his soul. He knew a soul existed, but that didn't stop the thing from being unnerving. Was Danny made entirely of Fear Gas? "Are you sure you can't take Danny with you?"

"I want to." Jason sighed, tracing the fabric of Danny's hair. "But we aren't sure if space travel will worsen Danny's chances of recovery. Normally, I wouldn't take any jobs outside Gotham, but Roy needs help."

Danny's head jerked as if the porcelain neck of the doll had broken, the little head falling to the side, facing Jason. Familiar whispers of hell fill the air, making Tim's stomach drop.

He leans further into the plush of his office chair, wanting to get as far away from Danny as possible while Jason smiles.

"Thank you for understanding, " he tells Danny with a fondness usually reserved for lovers. Tim might have found it sweet if it had not been that he was terrified of Jason's undead boyfriend.

"Please don't leave," He whispers, uncaring how pathetic his voice sounded.

"You're going to find Tim." Jason laughs, shaking his head. "Danny says he likes you!"

Tim's eyes slid over to the doll, feeling himself jump a little when he realized he had turned in his direction. Without a sound. Without Tim, for all his training, even noticing the movement.

There was a moment when he felt like something with sharp teeth grinning at him. The sensation came from behind his left shoulder, and he jerked around, hand flying to his hidden expandable staff in his left pocket. Nothing but the cream color of his wall stares back at him.

He slowly turns back to his guest, Danny, quite suddenly right in front of him, sitting on his laptop. Its slightly watery eyes- painted with the effect- were mere inches from Tim's nose.

The sensation of being watched by a predatory grows. A whimper leaves Tim's lips against his will just as Jason checks his phone and shoulders his travel bag. "Alright, I have to head out. Artemis is on the way here to pick me up. Thanks again, Tim."

"No." He whispers, unable to look away from his own reflection in Danny's eyes. He looks petrified. "Don't leave me here with him."

"Bye, Danny. See you in two weeks." Jason grabs the doll's head in a quick one-arm hug.

A scratching wail from down the hall makes Tim nearly fall over, but Jason only blushes as he leans closer. "I love you too."

Before Tim can find the courage to throw Danny back at him, his brother is up and out the door. Soon, his office is left in utter silence as the duo observe one another.

Tim only dared move an inch once Tam knocked on his door. "Morning, Tim. You're nine o'clock is here; I sent you the required documents for the meeting, and is that a doll?"

Her voice trails off from her typical professional pitch to the one he is used to hearing when the pair reminisce about the time they ran from assassins together. It's far more casual, with just the hints of judgment that Tim can appreciate because it means she's not above calling his bullshit out.

"This...is Danny," He hears himself introduce. "Danny, this is Tam."

His PA cooks one hip, raises a brow, and gestures at the desk where the doll sits. "I thought the rumors about the haunted doll resulted from the night job misunderstanding?"

"No. I worked to cover them up."

Tam rolls the information around in her head before looking at her tablet with a wide smile. "You do not pay me enough to handle haunted dolls. I have to be in conference room 103 in five minutes. I have to check on our coffee orders."

"But Tam-"

"No." She slams the door close. The click-clack of her heels echoes as she struts away, and Tim is left staring longingly at the blurred windows of his glass doors. He looks back at Danny, who has moved again.

This time, the cold porcelain is pressing into his left cheek because Danny is suddenly there. Standing on the arm of his office chair and leaning on Tim's face.

The scream that ripped out of his throat had the security running to his office and Tam dialing the Bats in ten seconds. It didn't help that the scream had traveled through the vents, echoing into the building as every employee looked up from their cubicle with a jump.

"What was that?"

"A little girl go hurt on level seventy-four."

"Isn't that the CEO's floor?"

"Must be one of the thousands of kids the Waynes bring to those charity events."

[whyyousoloudfor]

TikTok Prank.

Warnings: fluff

Word count: ????

Peaking your head into the kitchen, you see Lewis’ back is turned causing you to smile mischievously. This is perfect for the little prank you have planned for him. It’s a trend on TikTok you’ve seen girls try on their boyfriends and you thought it was hilarious, so why not try it on yours. You step into the kitchen, unlocking your phone camera before propping it up against Lewis’ water bottle that’s study enough for the phone to not tip over. You make sure the camera is angled perfect then press the record button. Lewis’ is so focused chopping up vegetables for dinner and softly singing to the music playing in the background, he barely knows what’s going on behind him. You sneak up to him and snake your arms around him from behind, your cheek pressed again his t-shirt clad back.

“Hi baby.” You say sweetly, tightening your around him, snuggling into him. He slightly jumps, startled by your actions then relaxes in your touch putting down the knife to gently grab one your hands bring it up to his soft lips. “Hi, my sweet girl.” He responds back in the same tone. He places my hand back down and resumes chopping the veggies. You bite down on your lip holding back your laughter for what you’re about to say next. In a serious tone you say, “Honey, we have to talk. I have something to tell you.” You remove arms from around him and wipe your palms down the legs of your jeans before placing them in your back pockets. He drops the knife on the counter again turning around to give you his undivided attention, his facial expression laced with concern. Looking down at your feet, you avoid looking up at him because you know if you look, you will feel bad enough to back out of the plan. Lewis takes a few steps towards you, cupping your face in his hands making you look up at him. His eyes intensely watch you as his thumbs stroke your cheekbones.

“What’s wrong, baby? You pregnant or something? Somebody died?” He pauses for a moment. “If it’s about your leftovers you had in the fridge, it wasn’t me, it was Roscoe!” You both burst out into laughter. “Poor Roscoe, it be your own dad. But no, it’s none of that.” You say, getting back into character. “Then what is it?” He says, removing his hands to grab both of your hands, intertwining y’all fingers.

“I can’t pay the mortgage this month.”

You stare up look at him waiting for his reaction. His eyes are focused to the view behind you through the large glass slide door that leads into the backyard. He stays silent for a few second, his eyes cut back to yours narrowing with his head tilted slightly. “What did you just say?”

“Babe, I can’t pay the mortgage this month. I’m sorry.”

His head jerks back and drops your hands placing a tattooed hand over his heart. He’s offended. “Angel? You? Pay a mortgage? Be so fucking for real.” You try to hold back a giggle, watching him start to pace and forth around the kitchen. You walk up to him grabbing his hand to bring him back into the camera. “Lew, I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his waist again resting your chin on his chest. “Sweetheart…” he starts. “Do you even know what a mortgage looks like? Do you even know what a damn bill looks like? Don’t embarrass me, baby.” The answer to that is No. You don’t know what any of that shit looks like and you don’t want to. Lewis wouldn’t allow it anyway. He continues his rambling, “I’d rather mop the fucking ocean than let you pay any bill around me, don’t piss me off, Y/F/N.” You reach up to cover his mouth with your hands before he goes any further. You couldn’t help but break character and burst into fits of laughter.

“It’s a prank, baby! Off TikTok.” You say hunched over as you continue to laugh and point at the phone recording on the counter. Lewis looks over at the phone. He brings a hand up to his chest letting out a sigh of relief, pulling you in to him by your waist. He plants several kisses on your forehead then mumbles, “Angel, toktik almost got you knocked out.” You smile, leaning into him as you feel his lips on your skin. The prank was a success.

“I know and it was worth it, your reaction was priceless.”

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave your thoughts, comments and feedback in my inbox. I’ll even take requests.

[oceantornadoo]

staring problem (john price x f!reader, same rank!!)

the visiting weapons specialist was droning on and on, fifteen minutes over his allotted time slot. you should have been paying attention, at least taking notes, but that was hard to do with john price’s glare seeping into the side of your face.

you chanced a side glance and there it was again, steely blue eyes tracking your every movement. his posture uptight and perfect, hands collected in front of him like a king on a throne. he was poised to strike and you dreaded it, could tell by the way his body charged up like preparing for war. like you were the mission.

“thank you for that informative presentation. we’re dismissed for the day. captain, i’d like a word.” he refused to name you under the guise of professionalism, a worse sign. you packed up your belongings as everyone left, hiding shaking hands under the table as you fiddled with your pockets.

“c’mere.” you shook your head no, instead slumping backwards in your chair, eyes trained on the ceiling. john sat back too, content to watch you let down your captain’s mask in front of only him. “captain…” “don’t captain me, john. it’s not going to work.” you scoffed. “you’ve got a staring problem, you know. thought i had something on my face the first twenty minutes of that presentation.” he hummed in thought. “come over here an’ fix it.”

you stomped over, purely out of frustration rather than flirtation. you tried to stop a good foot away, a respectful distance between two captains, but he reached out and tugged you in by your belt loop, trapping you between him and the table. he didn’t let go once he got you there, a heavy hand resting on your hip, his finger twisted in your belt loop. what an arrogant, presumptuous man.

“y’ve been avoiding me.” you tried to look down to your boots but instead made eye contact with his lap, strong thighs straining under woven fabric. what a terrible view. “i’m being a professional.” he squeezed your hip. “is tha’ what friday was? professional?”

“this isn’t very professional, john.” you whispered, almost knocking over the half-empty bottle of whiskey as you straddled him. he pulled you in closer until your pelvises kissed, his eyes dark in the moonlight of his office. “‘s alright, sweetheart, we’re off the clock.” he leaned in to kiss you but you stopped him with a hand to his chest. “no- no kissing on the lips, okay? i can’t, i’m sorry.” he frowned, then leaned in again, lips touching your neck in a sorry imitation of a first kiss.

“friday was a mistake. we were drunk and alone, right?” he moved his chair closer, your legs trapped almost uncomfortably so as he put himself in your line of sight, furrowed brow and well-trimmed beard. “we weren’t drunk, sweetheart. bit fuzzy, but not drunk.” you weren’t sure how to respond to that, arms akimbo at your sides as you planned a way out of this conversation. his free hand grabbed your own, brushing over your worn knuckles before bringing it to his face, entwining your fingers in his beard.

“i like your beard, y’know.” the admission rolled off your tongue easily like the two glasses of whiskey before it. “y’do?” you nodded solemnly. “can i tell you a secret, though?” your eyes flicked up at his, your best impression at being seductive without looking it. “can tell me anything.” his tone made you pause. it sounded like a vow, proud and unwavering. “the recruits make fun of it. they call you captain chipmunk.” he raised an eyebrow and it sent you giggling, scooting closer to him on his office couch. “‘s that why you had them running extra laps yesterday?” you bit back a smile. “maybe.”

you felt like a goddess on an altar, john your willing supplicant. your hand in his beard was like a leash, and he gave you control easily. “can’t believe y’ve got a man like me begging, sweetheart.” you scratched his jaw out of pure curiosity and were rewarded with his closed eyes, an invitation to study him without pressure. you traced his early crow’s feet, dark lashes and smile lines, a few silver hairs in his beard. “begging for what?” he opened his eyes, all blue and wanting. “another friday. another night in my office.”

“hips up, sweetheart.” you whined at loss of his warmth on yours. john laid you down on his couch, unbuttoning your pants with reverence. “up now, there we go. there’s a good girl.” he leaned into the juncture of your thighs, beard scratching you gently as he kissed your scars and stretch marks and every piece of skin in between. the sweetness of it was too much, the aching in your core too much to bear. “john, i need you.” he chuckled, callused hands tugging down your underwear. you swore he moaned, low grumbling as he kissed around your pussy, ignoring where you needed him most. “patience, baby. been waitin’ a while f’ this.”

you pulled your hand away, sitting back on the table as you folded your hands neatly in your lap. “john, i can’t. i-“ the conference room door openly suddenly, subordinate voices filling the room. you cringed inwardly at their view: the female captain spread for her male counterpart, a walking stereotype. it didn’t take a genius to guess who you were, even from the back, based on john’s presence. “out. now.” you made to leave at his command but his strong grip forced you back down, that ever present hand at your waist. the sounds of your intruders slowly faded, but you swore you could hear your name echoing through the halls. you dropped your head to your hands, practically shaking at the thought of even more rumors being spread. never mind you were a captain and worked hard to get where you were - any association with a male colleague was a hit to your reputation. you heard john stand, moving your head to his chest, a gentle hand cradling the back of your neck as he stroked the skin there.

“that’s why, john. i can’t be your captain in the daytime and the girl warming your sheets at night. there’s too much at stake for me to risk it.” he was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. you took the time to soak up the ease of his presence, probably for the last time before he rejected you, cheek pressing into the hardness of his body. warm and powerful, a honed machine capable of so much damage, wrapped in soft murmurs and even softer touches. predictably, he pulled away, untethering himself from you. you wrapped your arms around yourself, preparing for impact.

“think i started us off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.” he tilted your chin up, forcing your eyes on his. “should’ve taken you out on a date first.” wait, what? “took the coward’s way out with the whiskey. i should’ve let y’ get dolled up, nice restaurant, the nine yards.” you moved back, out of his reach again. “what are you saying, john? you’re confusing me.” his voice grew bolder. “‘m sayin’ i want you in every way, not just in my bed.” oh.

“i’m not a nonchalant person. i need a lot of attention.” he nodded. “good thing i’ve got a starin’ problem.” you frowned. “but i’m also busy. you can’t expect me to give you all my time.” he huffed. “i’m a captain too, love.” you pulled him in by the belt loop. “and im not going to put out just because of friday. i need seduction.” his hands landed on your hips again. “got years of experience f’ you.” you locked eyes again, finally without any pretense between you.

“y’ gonna give me your lips? not gonna hide again, are you, sweetheart?” you snorted. instead of answering, you tugged him down towards you, capturing his lips with your mouth. the kiss was soft and sweet until you wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him into your embrace. he squeezed your hips hard, preventing you from bucking into him. “eager, are we?” you shut him up with another kiss, hard and unwielding. “i think i’m already tired of you, john. you’re very presumptuous.” he pulled you in closer, hands moving under your ass as he tugged you up. “never done with you, love.”

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Nine: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, nude vids/pics, rape mentioned (somnophilia), gen. sexual content, Panic/Anxiety Attack, forced nudity [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin/Ghost having thoughts?? Unselfish ones?? Luke can’t stop roasting/sassing you [diary entries from Ani] [texting/letters/notes]extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: August 10th

I think enough time has passed. I think you’re ready to see Ghost again.

I thought it would take longer for you to recover, but as always, the little fawn in you is curious as ever. Quick to forget fear and ready for the newest challenge.

You’ve responded so well to everything. I’m very proud of you.

I’ve been keeping up with my visits, still cleaning, still watching, still following and protecting.

Now that you know of Ghost, I’ve started completing my tasks. I don’t have to leave anything halfway finished, the dishes are done everyday along with the vacuuming and dusting. I even mop twice a week.

And change the cat litter, which might I add, is disgusting. (Worth it though because I love that little menace.)

I thought for sure you’d run and tell me that you didn’t think the alarms I installed weren’t working, but you didn’t, you just repeatedly tested them yourself. It was very loud, very annoying and I know you could hear the woman down the hall banging her pots and pans together to fight back with her own noise. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to make sure the alarms worked.

They do work, I wouldn’t have installed fake ones, that would be stupid. I’m all for keeping you safe so… what’s one more safety measure?

I just know that they can also be very easily disarmed. Even through the inch and a half thick wooden door to your apartment. A piece of sheet metal (credit card sized) and my handy dandy super strength magnet works like a charm.

You’re such an odd bird. You haven’t told anyone, I don’t think it’s really even crossed your mind too much either. You’ve begun to pretend the cameras aren’t even there. You just go about your normal day to day life and occasionally squint and stare at random objects.

You never actually go check them out though. Is it all for show? I think it might be.

I think you like being watched. I bet it makes you feel safe doesn’t it? Knowing I’m always there for you?

——————————————————————————

You know what the best part of all this is?

Ghost will let me love you in the way that is natural and normal to me. I just hope that you’ll be willing to accept that we are one in the same.

Ghost can comfortably do all the things that I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to scare you, but it really was difficult not to leave you things. I’m so glad that you brought that up in your list of questions because it gave me the opportunity to act on it without you flipping out.

Do you like them? I love leaving things for you. Especially little notes.

Ghost has been kind enough to stay out of your way when I’m around, but I can resist making you squirm occasionally. Remember when I left you a note, KNOWING I’d be coming home with you later that day?

Oh babe. It was so oddly intoxicating to see the way you reacted when I got back home and pulled up the footage. You snatched up that slip of paper didn’t read it and didn’t toss it in the trash, didn’t put it in your pocket.

You shoved it in your mouth so I wouldn’t see it. Freak.

I saw it all chewed up and gross in the bathroom trash. You didn’t read it. I know you didn’t. So I’ll have to get alittle more creative.

Don’t ignore me.

DATE

August 13th

For the third morning in a row you woke up to a text from your own cellphone number.

‘Sleep well deer?’

Idiot. Can’t even spell. So finally on this third day, you sent a text back and corrected him.

���Dear*’

Immediately a response buzzed through.

‘No.’

No? What does he mean no?

‘Little doe. My deer. 🦌’

Oh great, so stalkers use emojis and he’s given you a nickname. How cute.

You laid back in your bed and tossed your phone aside, hands covering your face as you rubbed the sleep away.

The longer this went on, the more insane you felt. This wasn’t normal, of course it’s not normal. So why are you allowing it?

You could ask yourself that a million times and you’d never find an answer.

You could throw away every flower he brought you and they’d still keep coming. You could burn every piece of paper in the city and chew every pen until it’s broken beyond repair and he would still find a way to write you a note.

You could swallow every word he writes, throw it up, flush it, whatever. It’s just going to pop back up. Gross and soggy with an amendment attached and in your panty drawer.

You thought maybe it was an important one. So you read it. Quickly discovered it was semi-important, Ghost just wanted to remind you that he loved you and he was proud of you for continuing to drink your tea even though you knew it was drugged. Once you’re out of it, he’s going to set the pills out next to your birth control. So he ‘doesn’t have to fool with measurements anymore’.

The addendum to the note was tucked inside the original:

‘Good girls swallow.’

You could ignore the trinkets, the jewelry or the pretty stones and shells. But he would just move them to a different spot and force you to eventually set it in your jewelry box along with all the others.

He’s not been bold enough to come around with Anakin in your home. The nights that Anakin sleeps over, there are no gifts, no cleaning done. No disturbances.

But Anakin doesn’t deter him completely.

He’s left you one note at Anakin’s apartment, the first time you’d slept away from your own home in ages. Ghost had the audacity to slip a note into the pocket of your shorts while you slept in the same bed as Anakin in his apartment.

It didn’t say anything, no words, just a heart in red ink. Like he just wanted to remind you that he was there and you were his whether you wanted to be or not. Anakin or no Anakin, Ghost didn’t care.

It’s been horrible lying… omitting the truth to Anakin. Sometimes you feel like blurting it out, but something always stops you. Morbid curiosity maybe. Or maybe you just like the thrill of it, that little shiver of adrenaline you get every time he makes himself known.

It would all stop if you told Anakin. Neither would quit until he’d hunted the other man down and gotten rid of him.

They’d kill each other.

——————————————————————————

Anakin worked tonight, so you had plans to meet up with Luke (sans his pet leech) for a late evening dinner. As much as you loved Han and appreciated everything he did for Luke, how happy he made him, you really just wanted some time alone with your best friend.

So you were thrilled to receive a text around 1:00pm from Luke:

‘Don’t be late. I’m dying to catch up babe.’

You quickly opened the message but before you finished typing, a voice message popped up in your notifications, sent from your number.

You abandoned the chat with Luke and opted to open the voice message instead.

‘I’m coming home.’ then a long pause, ‘have fun with Lukey.’

That scratchy filtered voice; you’d yet to hear it over the phone and this being the first time… it sent you right back to the very first time you watched Scream. That icy chill that snuck up the back of your neck, the tightening of your chest… you felt it now, just not because of fear.

You felt it because you were excited.

——————————————————————————

“Okay, seriously what do you keep looking at?” Luke prodded, snatching your phone and sliding it into his jacket pocket.

“Nothing it’s just-“

“My phone is on ‘do no disturb’, because I have missed my buddy, my pal, my best friend.” He paused, his pointer finger jabbing the table between your plate and his.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I haven’t even unlocked it! It’s just sitting there.”

“True, but the obnoxious tapping to check whatever it is you’re hoping for is getting annoying.” Honesty, brutal or not, was Luke’s love language.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in my pocket.” You agreed, holding your hand out palm up.

“No ma’am. This is mine until the check comes.” His answer was definitive, no room for argument there. “What’s so important anyway? I know Anakin is at work.”

“It’s just work stuff.” You huffed.

“Oh? What’s so pressing at the diner?” He scoffed, “got a big shipment of ketchup coming in? Are you ‘on call’?”

“Luke.” You rolled your eyes at his jab. “No and yes. I am ‘on call’ actually. Sara’s son has been sick.’

Not a total lie, he has been sick. Poor guy. But her husband was home with him and he was being well looked after.

“Okay? That’s your problem how?”

“God you’re so negative sometimes.” You sighed. “Her babysitter hates vomit. If he throws up Sara will have to go home.”

“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. “I’m eating.”

“Okay? That’s my problem how?” You said mockingly.

“Really? Like for real that’s why you keep checking your phone?”

“Yes really.” Giving him a look that screamed duh’. “Her baby sitter is the 14 year old girl that lives next door to her. Do you really suggest leaving a 14 year old in charge of a vomiting 2 year old? When that 14 year old is disgusted by puke? That’s a recipe for disaster.”

It would be a disaster, her sitter is 14. She just happens to be on vacation with her mother right now. Hence the temporary stay at home husband.

“Okay, first of all, 14? Isn’t that alittle young?”

“No? I started babysitting when I was 12.” You shrugged.

“Fine.” Luke sighed. “Here.”

He slid your phone back to you and propped his chin up on his fist. Watching you check it one last time before turning on the sound and putting it in your back pocket.

——————————————————————————

‘I’m walking home now!’

You shot off the text to Anakin after saying your goodbye to Luke at the restaurant. You’d refused his offer to walk you home, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment building knowing that Ghost would be there.

Six minutes later he replied:

‘Good girl.🥰 let me know when you get there safe.’

‘Will do💕’

And you did, the moment you stood outside your apartment door.

‘Made it! See you tomorrow💕’

You waited in the hall to receive his response. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of this door, and you didn’t want to chance it.

‘Perfect. Sweet dreams doll!’

Your hand poised at the door knob, you inserted your key to discover your door was already unlocked. You very slowly opened the door, but saw no one in your kitchen or living room.

But your bedroom door was closed, boogie hadn’t meowed as loudly as possible and sprinted to you, demanding to be fed. He did say that they were good friends. So they both must be in your room.

Would it be wise to lock your door? The few precious seconds leaving it unlocked would save if you needed to run… no, no. Just lock it. Doorknob. Deadbolt. Chain.

‘Just stay calm’

You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag to the floor, walking quietly across the carpeted living room to pause in front of your bedroom. A soft yellow glow shone beneath the door, your lamp must be on. You could hear your tv playing something, not quite sure what it was, but it had the all too familiar cadence of a horror flick.

The audacity of this man astounded you.

When you pushed open the door, he was laying in your bed, shoes off, legs crossed at the ankles, propped against the headboard, arms behind his head. He looked like he belonged there. As big a contrast as it was… your soft, pink, feminine room and him. All black, the mask. He just looked so comfortable.

Your cat, the little traitor, was curled up on his chest. It was kind of sweet. How could such an inherently terrifying scenario seem so normal?

Ever so casually he tilted his head toward you, his right hand raising from its relaxed position to lazily give you gloved finger waggle for a wave.

“Have fun?” The filtered voice drifted over to you.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, glued to the spot.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He laughed. “I would come pick you up, but it’s illegal to move a sleeping cat.” He gestured to boogie who had still not moved from her human pillow.

You couldn’t help but laugh, eyebrows raised in an expression of awe filled shock. This was too weird. Too normal. Too scarily alluring.

Yet you found yourself at the edge of the bed, not really knowing how you got there to begin with.

“Sat you some pajamas out.” He said dismissively, the mask fixed onto the tv screen. “Figured you’d wanna change.”

“Huh.” You snorted, seeing that he had.

You expected to see one of your lacy lingerie sets. But he’d chosen something much more modest that you would’ve ever imagined. Loose, thin, stretchy fabric pajama pants, the matching cropped tank top, and fuzzy socks.

“Um. Thanks?” You said awkwardly, picking them up and turning on your heels to change in the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled.

“To the bathroom?” You scoffed, looking over your shoulder at him.

“You can change in here.” He wasn’t offering. He was telling you.

“No way.” You shook your head. “No I’m not-“

“C’mon little doe.” The filtered voice left little room for change in tone, but you could tell from his body language that it was a challenge.

“Ghost. No! I have Anakin I don’t-.”

He laughed. “I don’t care.”

“Well I do.”

“Mmm… not enough. You’re letting me be here. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t mention me to anyone at all actually.” He pointed out.

“Well that’s not-“

“Hush.” He snapped, making you stall. “I’ve seen that pretty little body of yours plenty of times. What’s one more?”

“But-“ your face was so red hot that you could feel the heat spreading down your neck.

“What? I’m not gonna get up.” He said plainly. “I’m comfy right here where I can watch you.”

“I don’t… this isn’t right.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He scoffed. “Nothing about this is ‘right’. But you’re letting it happen, yeah?” He said and got just a nod from you in response.

“That’s it.” He moved his arm to point two fingers at you, “get on with it sweetheart. I wanna see my girl.”

“I’m not your-“

“You were mine first.” He snapped.

“Well, that’s not very fair.” Your voice shaking. “I didn’t even know you were…. I didn’t know about you!”

“That might be true.” He growled, “but it’s your fault for being so ignorant.”

“I-I don’t…” you felt like you were on the verge of a tantrum. This man was outrageous, coming into your home uninvited, being a fucking perv, acting like he owns the place, and now he’s calling you ignorant?

“Do you realize how stupid it is for you to argue with me about the morality of all this?” He asked, going back to his former relaxed state.

“You. Are allowing me to be here. You had all day to call the cops if you wanted to. But you didn’t.” That smug little bastard laughed. “I’ve been here for over two hours. You knew I’d be here when you got back.”

“That’s not-“

“I’m not finished.” He held up a finger and silenced you. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine and you will continue to be mine.”

“I don’t care that you are pretending to be appalled by the situation you are in.” His voice was even and unyielding, he was so confident in his statements.

“You know why I don’t care?” He asked, tilting his head toward you condescension oozing from every pore.

“Why?” You squeaked.

“Because I know, without a doubt, that if I were to stick my hand down your pretty pink panties; you’d be wet right now.”

How did he know what color your underwear is? Better question: why is that the first thing you thought of when there were much more pressing matters at hand?

“That’s not true.” Your voice sounded hollow.

“It’s not?” He laughed. “Show me then.”

“What?” You whispered, eyes bugging out of your head.

“Do it. Prove to me that you’re not soaked.” He snickered.

“That’s not fair you can’t just-“

“You’re not running are you? You haven’t said no, you haven’t come over here and smacked me.” He interrupted.

You stood there with your jaw dropped, you needed a dustpan and broom to sweep up your shattered facade of denial. How could you dispute that?

“Fine!” You shouted. “Fine. I’ll just change in here.”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He growled. “You’re awfully bold for a spoiled brat.”

“I am not a-“

“When will you stop disagreeing with me?” He laughed. “You know it’s true. I’ve spoiled you so much that you’ve rotted to your core. You weren’t always a brat, but you are now. You like being spoiled don’t you? Being taken care of, being treated like a princess?”

“Your little boyfriend does the same thing doesn’t he?” He snickered. “Spoiled. Brat.”

“You’re just a little girl who needs a man to hold her hand.”

“You’re being mean.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“The truth is hard to hear isn’t it little doe?” He said, his voice going back to its nonchalant, flat tone.

You couldn’t argue. He’d been right about everything and it’s difficult to argue with someone who throws fact after fact at you like he’s doing. So you took a deep breath and closed your bedroom door.

“Atta girl.” He nodded. “Show me.”

So you did, you turned around and began undressing, you could feel his eyes on you, soaking up the display you were crafting for him.

“Turn around.” His voice alittle quieter, the voice box crackling.

Slowly you complied, swallowing your fear and embarrassment. You kept your eyes closed, it made you feel the slightest bit better, I’m the way a kid would think ‘I can’t see you so you can’t see me’.

“Gorgeous.” He breathed out.

Behind your eyelids you swear you noticed a change in lighting, briefly, but enough to take note of. Your eyes snapped open and saw him holding up his phone.

He’d taken a picture of you.

“Ghost, no! Delete that right now!” You squealed, quickly getting dressed in your fresh pajamas.

“Cool it.” He waved you off. “Just gonna add it to my special folder just for you. See?” He turned his screen toward you and you inched forward.

He wasn’t lying. He scrolled through over one hundred images and videos, some of you in public, some nude, some of you sleeping. All in a folder titled ‘little doe’.

“These are for me.” He said simply. “They’re not going anywhere so don’t worry about that.”

“But these…” he turned the screen back to himself and tapped twice, scrolled and then tapped again before flipping it around.

The images in front of you made you nauseous.

You, spread legs and wet cunt, up close.

You with your hand being held up by Ghost, your fingers buried deeply between your folds.

A short video of your pussy being lovingly stroking by a leather glove. Another of one long digit pumping into you slowly.

A picture of your lips wrapped around his cock.

“S-so you did… you did touch me?” You recoiled.

“No.” He said flatly, before you could protest he laughed.

“You loved it.” He snickered. “Never let you cum. I wanted you to be needy for me.”

“Until… until I saw you.” You whispered.

“Mhm, that’s right.” He nodded. “Took care of your poor swollen pussy properly that time.” He cooed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“You’re sick.” You breathed out. “That’s disgusting… you-“

“Call the cops.” He said gesturing to your phone laying on the bed.

“What?”

“You heard me. Call ‘em.” He snorted. “If I’m so sick and disgusting and you’re soooo horrified by my actions; call the cops. I’ll wait right here.”

“Are you gonna send those to Anakin?” Your voice wobbled as you ignored his challenge. You both knew you wouldn’t call.

“Not if you’re good.”

“Are you gonna hurt him?” You asked quietly.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He scoffed. “I want you all to myself, but I want you to choose me. I’m not gonna go all Dexter on your boyfriend.”

“You promise?” You sniffled. “Swear it?”

“Pinky swear.” He said confidently, holding out his hand with his little finger raised.

For some reason you took it. You believed him. He hadn’t gotten up and forced you to do anything, he stayed right there the whole time. He had yet to share those pictures with Anakin. A million other twisted reasons you’d started to accept that this was becoming a new normal. A thousand other things that pushed you to believe him.

He’d only bruised your self image with his cold, hard truths about you. That’s not a crime. That’s a reality check.

“Good choice little doe!” You could practically hear the beaming smile on his face behind the plastic mask.

“Now come up here.” He patted the spot next to him. “I don’t like seeing you upset, I’m sorry.”

He was apologizing? He was apologizing.

“You’re sorry?” You repeated in shock.

“Of course I’m sorry. You’re on the verge of tears and I’ve caused it.” He said, holding out his hand palm up for you to take.

“I’m not a monster.”

You hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing into bed beside him. You sat a safe distance from him at first but he lolled his head to the side in what you assumed was a dramatic eye roll and tugged you to his side in a one armed swoop.

The action had you frozen. This was it. He was gonna hurt you. You’d been naive and stupid and he was going to violate you, this time while you were conscious, you’d remember it this time.

“Relax.” He soothed, tucking you comfortably against his side, his bicep behind your head as a pillow and his gloved hand on your side in a way that was almost comforting. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered, what the fuck is happening?

“No, it’s not okay. I could’ve been more gentle with my words.” His opposite hand rubbing his knuckles across your cheek lovingly.

You were quiet for a moment, debating on the course of action you should take. You were in fact very much allowing this to occur. Would it be so horrible to try and enjoy it? He was warm. He smelled nice and familiar, the cologne… you must have a subtle memory of it from all the times he’d been here while you slept. He was comfortable. He was surprisingly kind.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“Before you get comfy.” He spoke quietly, the voice box crackling from his low voice, “you didn’t take your pill.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.” You moved to get up, pink cheeked because once again he proved that you were in fact helpless without him.

“Don’t get up, I have it right here.” He chuckled, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you the pill packet and a thermos. “Tea.”

“Huh.” You stared at him. Gods this was so fucking weird. “Well… wow okay.” You huffed out a laugh and took your medicine with a sip of your tea.

“Tastes different.” You said, handing the packet back to him.

“Mhm. Yeah I poisoned it.” He said nonchalantly, making you almost choked on your second sip.

“You what?” You shrieked, waking up the cat who bolted from his lap.

“Aw look what you did,” he groaned gesturing to the empty space with a few stray cat hairs.

“You- are you serious?” You started to almost hyperventilate. “Should I make myself throw up?”

Why are you asked the man who poisoned you that? Like he’d tell you.

“No, that would be a waste of good tea.” He snorted. “I put cinnamon in it you idiot.”

“What?”

“Cinnamon.” He repeated. “It’s just cinnamon. It was a joke.”

“That’s not fucking funny!” You shouted, smacking his shoulder.

“Ive already told you once.” His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw firmly. “Do not. Raise. Your voice. At me.” He growled.

“I believe you meant to say ‘ha-ha, ghost that was funny. you got me!’” He snickered and released your jaw, soothing you with his hand now gently raking through your hair.

You were stunned. Absolutely shook by his quick turnaround, this should be terrifying. This man can be so gentle one moment and the next he’s speaking to you like he’s ordering you to lay down at the guillotine. It wasn’t terrifying in the right way. Not the type of fear you should be feeling at his unpredictable actions.

You weren’t scared of him at all. But yourself? Yes. Who is this girl? Why is she… why do you like this? It’s scary because you’re not scared. It’s horrifying because you want more. It’s terrifying because you’re morbidly curious about what he’d do if you acted out again.

You shook your head and picked your jaw off the floor, deciding the best course of action was to just tuck yourself back under his arm and watch whatever movie he had paused when you entered the room.

Might as well. You’ve already come this far.

Date

August 14th

When you woke up the next morning Ghost was gone. Your home was devoid of any trace of him, no note, no gift, no messages. Nothing.

He had hardly moved while you sat with him, the only consistent movement was the gentle twist and twirl of one long lock of your hair around his finger. It was repetitive and soothing, just like the calming rise and fall of his chest.

How could he be so calm? So off guard?

You could’ve turned on him at any moment. Ripped off his mask and saw who he was, grabbed your lamp and wacked him with it. Punched him in the nuts and ran.

But, to be fair, he could’ve done the same to you. Yet you stayed there, albeit anxious and on high alert for majority of the time spent with him. Despite the fact that you knew he carried a weapon, even though you were well aware of what he’d been doing to you all this time, even after he’d manhandled your face when you smarted off to him.

It must be a twisted form of mutual trust.

Or you might just be delusional.

Either way, it was wrong and you knew that. You intentionally got naked in front of another man, while he laid on the bed your boyfriend so sweetly makes love to you in. You fell asleep in the arms of this man. Not just *any* other man, the one who has been stalking you relentlessly for months.

You’ve cheated on Anakin. If he knew, it would crush him. It would break apart his big, soft, velveteen heart. Your betrayal would rip a hole right through the middle and slice up the fabric so badly it couldn’t be sewn back up without ending up smaller, weaker, and deformed.

What could you do? Was there anything to do? Telling him to his face… the thought of it soured your stomach so badly you thought you might form an ulcer.

Telling Ghost to fuck off and leave you alone wasn’t an option either. No matter what you did, the precautions you put in place; he would find you. Not only would he find you, but he wouldn’t allow Anakin the privilege of breathing anymore.

You couldn’t tell Luke. He’d lecture you until your ears bled while he dragged you to the nearest police station. Then Luke would be in danger, Anakin would know, and Ghost would still be your problem. And if Luke didn’t believe you, he’d ship you off to the long term care loony bin.

Your sister? Of course you couldn’t tell her either. She has her own family. Ghost already knows where she lives, he’s told you so.

He knows everything about you. Your family tree, your friends list, your schedule, your medical information, banking account, he has complete access to your home, your phone…

You are a canary in a cage and he is a cat pawing at you through the metal bars.

It’s only a matter of time before one of those claws nicks you. A feather or two might come loose, open up a weak spot on your frail body. The next swipe might draw blood, maybe it won’t. Or maybe he’ll be lucky enough to bat you to the bottom of the cage.

It’s hard enough to escape when there’s someone always watching. When there’s a lock on the door. But to attempt to flee with broken wings? You couldn’t hobble your way to safety anyway. Bird cages don’t have doors at the bottom, they’re halfway up. They don’t have horizontal bars. You can’t climb.

You are stuck.

It’s up to you if you want to be trapped there intact, or if you’d rather wallow at the bottom in pain.

——————————————————————————

Maybe you should just break up with Anakin.

Ghost said he wouldn’t hurt him, but how long will that last? How long until he gets tired of waiting? Should you ask Ghost again? Just to make sure? Make him sign a fucking contract?

Maybe it would be best if-

“Sweetheart?” Anakin whispered softly, waving his hand in front of your face. “What’s going on? I’ve been standing here for almost a minute.”

Anakin was here.

“What?” You whispered back, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings.

The diner. You were at The Bluebird. You were working. A glance to the clock told you that you’d been here for over two hours, a quick scan of the tables and the counter proved that you hadn’t neglected any customers. Your notepad and pen were in your hand, there was money in the tip jar.

Anakin was here.

“Hey, c’mere.” His voice soft and concerned.

He gently took the pad and pen from your hands, put an arm around your shoulder and held your hand as he led you through the kitchen. Not an uncommon occurrence, Anakin was well known to everyone at the Bluebird due to his frequent visits to see you. He often walked with you out through the kitchen to sit on the curb with you while you took a break and he smoked a cigarette.

“Vigo, I’m taking her out back.” He said quietly, speaking to the dishwasher.

“I was about to call you man.” He spoke back in a hushed voice. “She’s been actin’ like that since she got here.”

“Yeah? Well next time don’t wait to call.” Anakin grumbled, scowling at your coworker.

The heat of the afternoon sun soothed over your skin, making you painfully aware of the cold sweat lacing the back of your neck. You blinked and it felt like it was the first time you’d closed your eyes in hours. Your mouth was dry, your teeth felt cold and your brain might’ve been better described as soup.

Anakin sat down on the curb and pulled you down with him. Placing you sideways between his legs, your arms immediately threw themselves around his neck and you curled up into him.

“Jesus baby.” He whispered, the wind getting knocked out of him at your aggressive tackle.

“An-” You started to sob before you even finished his name.

“W-what’s wrong?” You could feel his heart beat quicken beneath you, hear it pounding in his chest. He was feeling real, true panic.

“Hey, hey talk to me. Breathe.” He tried to soothe you by petting your hair, rocking you gently, kissing your forehead… anything, anything he could think of and nothing was working.

You were sobbing so loudly that Anakin was glad there wasn’t a back parking lot. If someone wanted to see where this horrible wailing was coming from they’d have to walk all the way around back, thankfully most people didn’t care enough to do such a thing.

Unfortunately though, your coworkers did care.

The back door creaked open and you could hardly hear the conversation over your own tears.

“Anakin!” Vigo whisper shouted. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t do this!” His voice angrily gritting through his teeth. “What happened today?”

“Nothin’ man! I dunno!” Vigo squeaked raising up his hands in surrender. “She just clocked in like that, no cryin’ though. She’s hardly said a word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Anakin grunted, “I’m her emergency contact for a reason you idiot.”

“Hey? Don’t get mad at me!” Vigo scoffed. “I figured she was in a funk because of you, why would I call if I thought it was boyfriend troubles?”

“Jesus- did you even ask her?”

“What?”

“Oh my fuckin’-“ Anakin took a breath to regulate himself, one arm firmly holding you while the other was wildly gesturing as he spoke. “Did you ask her what was wrong?”

“No?”

“Are you stupid? God just fuck- go back inside before you end up crying on the ground too.” He snapped at him, huffing as the back door shut behind a quickly retreating Vigo.

“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He whispered, petting your head and squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry, that probably didn’t help did it?”

“N-not really.” You hiccuped out a laugh.

“She speaks.” He gasped, “want me to yell at him some more? I’ll do it just say the word-“

“Anakin-“ you snorted, wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. “Aw shit sorry.”

“You think I’m worried about alittle snot?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’d lick it out of your nose like a cow if you’d let me. C’mere I’ll prove it.”

He stuck out his tongue and flicked it at you, chasing your face as you squirmed away from him. Despite to horrible ache in your lungs and the scratchy feeling in your throat, Anakin had a way of making everything better. Even if it was accomplished by making a fool of himself.

You laughed in spite of trying to catch your breath, fighting those awkward stalled inhales with a the goofy little giggle only he could force out of you. He relented finally when you gave up struggling, opting for a kiss on the tip of your nose rather than his tongue up your nostril.

“Wanna talk to me now?” He asked quietly, his playful attitude tucked away and replaced with seriousness.

“I don’t know Ani.” You sighed, feeling horribly conflicted. “I just want to go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.” He said, not leaving room for argument. “But I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Please? Please I don’t wanna talk about it.” Your eyes already filling back up with tears.

“It’s nothing really! It’s okay.” You pleaded with him, “I’m just… I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and it’s all overwhelming.”

“That’s not okay, don’t say it’s okay. You just wailed like a banshee.” He said sternly. “Talk, let me help.”

“I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scoffed, “Im going nuts. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking I’m insane.”

“Princess.” He said, his voice cracking with pain. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“W-what if hypothetically…” you whispered. “It’s only hypothetical okay?”

“Okay. Imaginary scenario, let’s hear it.” He nodded solemnly.

“Hypothetically, if I was having… nightmares of someone being in my house. What would you say.” You whispered.

“Hypothetical nightmares?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Well… I’d suggest that maybe you… go to therapy? See if you can find the root of the problem.”

Therapy? To find the root of the problem? That would work if you didn’t already know where to find the problem: in your apartment at any given moment. Hell, he was probably there right now.

“Are you having these dreams because of that night at the bar?” He asked softly, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “You know we didn’t see anyone put anything in your drink. No one left at the same time as you but your friends.”

“Now like I said before, just because we didn’t see it on camera… it doesn’t mean that no one slipped something in your drink. Stuff like that unfortunately happens all the time.” He sighed.

“I know.” You nodded, your eyes wet and sad, you knew you weren’t drugged there. You were drugged in the security of your own home. “I know, I think maybe I was just alittle more tipsy than I thought I don’t-“

“Hey, no… it’s okay.” He soothed you. “I believe you.”

“But there was no one who followed you home from the bar. I can say that with 100% certainty okay?” He said sternly.

“Ani but-“

“Look at me.” He said sharply, his voice turning soft again immediately after. “No one followed you home. I watched that video a hundred times over from every angle possible. No one else left the bar until about 17 minutes after you and your friends left.”

“Now don’t get upset baby okay? Listen I know, I know that it scared you shitless.” He said in a pained way, his face not quite matching his tone of voice like he was having a hard time trying to decide how to respond.

“Which is perfectly valid. It’s totally okay to be terrified if you saw something like that.” He soothed you, squeezing your upper arms. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen, I would never say that. If you say that you saw something, I believe you.”

“But, just because you saw it… doesn’t mean that it was truly there. Those kind of drugs can really fuck with your head baby.” He said gently.

“I know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes and hiding against his chest again.

Gods… this man. He really was one of a kind, not just any man or person in general for that matter, would respond so well to such a strange temporary delusion. Your past boyfriends would’ve run for the hills. But not Anakin. It was clear he wasn’t deterred easily, he was your personal emotional support pet leech.

It was strange, feeling so comfortable like this with someone you hadn’t known for very long. After this conversation you thought maybe it would be okay to tell Anakin the truth about it all. He’d handle it perfectly well wouldn’t he?

But, you can’t risk putting him in harms way. You wouldn’t know if Anakin would be safe without first speaking to Ghost. If Anakin was your pet leech… Ghost was the the neighborhood street dog who’d decided your porch was the safest place to sleep. Who would be heartless enough to kick the poor thing out without a proper meal first?

That’s the problem with strays. Give them a scrap and they’ll love you for life.

Diary Entry: August 14th

Jesus baby I’m sorry. I thought things went well last night, I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I really didn’t. I guess you weren’t ready to see Ghost after all.

That’s my fault, I apologize. I should have known better.

It’s just… you seemed kind of excited for it you know? I thought we had a good time. Was the stripping down in front of me what freaked you out so much? Or seeing the pictures? I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have, that was too far, too fast.

I see now that I made a mistake and I plan to rectify it as soon as possible. I’m going to give you a choice, one that I really don’t want to give you. But I will for the sake of your sanity.

I’ve been selfish for too long.

I’ve not truly considered your feelings on the situation, I’ve taken your response at face value and never attempted to dig farther than that. It won’t happen again I can assure you of that. Ghost will still be Ghost, but perhaps just a bit more considerate of your opinions and boundaries.

You must understand though, it’s hard to deal with this for me too. I know it’s not fair to compare our separate sides of the situation like this, but it’s true. It’s painful to watch you get so upset over something I’ve done, knowing I can’t really resolve the issue. I don’t know how to help, or fix this.

I’ve dug myself into a hole. A Pit if you will.

How could you ever forgive me now? After all this time that I have been so stupidly self-centered… I imagine it would be unlikely that you could find it in your immensely kind soul to forgive and forget my transgressions.

Maybe not though? I do see you as a godly entity, my own personal deity. If I leave enough at the altar, bow at your feet for long enough, serve you unconditionally… maybe then you would see that I have discovered the error of my ways. You could see that I am truthful in my pursuit of repentance.

Date

August 15th

Anakin drove to the opposite side of the city to purchase your apology gifts from Ghost. He knew well enough that Luke never had a set schedule, Han was always at the gym and you were at book club. There was limited space in time and even smaller proximity of location for him to safely collect the supplies he needed.

If someone saw him buying a dozen red roses and told you about it without his knowledge… well there goes Ghost. It’d be real hard to explain that away.

So he went to the florist, chose the most beautiful bouquet he could find and tucked it away in a large brown bag with tissue paper over the top so he wouldn’t accidentally bruise the petals.

He strolled down the side walk to another small mom and pop store, just to browse through stationary and cards. Ghost needs to be alittle more classy in his opinion. Maybe if his notes are on nice paper and written in plain black ink… that could ease the discomfort of it. It’s probably not super welcoming to find a ripped scrap of paper with red ink scrawled on it now that he’s come to think of it.

It was amusing to him before, but after your display of emotion, he’s feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. There was no reason to go the extra mile on stupid little things like that.

So, pretty grey paper and matching envelopes join the bouquet.

Now he just has to find something else. It can’t be chocolate or something generic. It has to be something meaningful. Something thoughtful to solidify the sentiment behind his offer for you. Something that will push you to make the right decision.

——————————————————————————

Anakin walked into your apartment, and went straight to your bedroom, it was time for Ghost to set up his apology present.

The big red bouquet was carefully placed in the center of your bed along with the pretty stationary propped against it. Your name carefully and neatly written in **black ink** on the envelope.

Your other gift, had turned into two. A small black box accompanying a short and squat black gift bag with grey tissue paper.

He was proud of his staged display, so proud that he couldn’t wait for you to see it. He was itching for you to get home, he needed to know what you’d choose. He was dying to see your pretty face light up with joy at his thoughtfulness.

So against his better judgement, he snapped a picture of himself standing at your bedside. The photo taken from a high angle to capture just the corner of your red rose bouquet, with himself taking up majority of the frame. His mask tilted to the side and his free hand held up a gloved peace sign.

He’d wait to send it.

He wanted to see your face when the message came through.

Anakin was prepared to be patient, but he didn’t have to be patient for long. He got the notification that there was movement out front of the building, he pulled up the live feed from the stairwell camera on his laptop and excitedly jolted up out of his seat before sitting back down quickly to scoot his seat back up to the table.

He rubbed his hands together and practically combusted from the inside when he confirmed it was you. His fingers moved quickly to send the text message and just as he thought you would, you paused and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bit of panic and maybe a bit of excitement. But mostly, Anakin was saddened to see fear. You were scared, but so brave as he watched you sprint up the steps. He shook his head and let out a deep breath, pulling up the split screen of all the cameras in your home.

You burst through the front door and slammed it shut, tossing your bag aside. Anakin turned up the volume just a bit and immediately realized that was a mistake because you yelled directly underneath the kitchen camera. The audio crackled as you shouted out for Ghost, Anakin realized then that you must think he’s still inside your home.

‘Just missed me.’ He texted quickly, watching you check your phone quickly and let out a sigh of relief as you muttered under your breath.

He thought you might text back, but why would you when you knew he was watching at that very moment?

“Hey!” You said, spinning in place, your eyes darting around to scan the room. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you!”

You rushed over to the living room window and down to the alley below, then up the fire escape, your gaze traveling over to the next building’s roof.

‘You won’t see me unless I want you to.’ He texted back.

“Jesus.” You muttered, rubbing your wrist anxiously. “I guess you want me to go to my room huh?”

‘Yes please.’

“Fine.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes as you walked over to the bedroom door, flinging it open quickly just incase he was still hiding out.

Your eyes drew to the center of your bed, the roses, the bag and box, the envelope. If the situation weren’t so strange you might consider this a romantic gesture. But it’s not, it’s not romantic and you shouldn’t want to open the gifts and sniff the pretty, sweet smelling flowers. You should want to call the police and have them haul the shit off for evidence.

“What’s all this for?” You asked alittle quieter than before, holding up your phone to read the text as it came through almost instantly as you knew that it would.

‘Letter.’

“Letter? That’s all?” You scoffed, “you did all this for a letter?”

‘It’s important.’ The response came quickly, followed by a second in rapid succession. ‘Gifts first.’

“Okay… alright. Gifts first.” You sighed, pulling your hand back from where it was inches away from the grey envelope.

The small box seemed like a good first thing to open, easy enough to snap shut if you didn’t like what you saw inside. Tentatively shifting the lid back and forth you wiggled it free and lifted the small square of padding to reveal a very nice, very ornate, obviously hand crafted hair-pin with a silver rod for the pin.

You gingerly lifted it from the box and held it in your hand to examine it, walking over to the window to open the curtains and see it more clearly. Smooth, black ceramic, gorgeously curved and curled silver fittings. But the most intriguing, the most breathtaking part of it, was the delicate lines and the daintily carved cameo in the center of the ceramic oval.

A woman standing under a willow, with a fawn at her feet.

You wanted to hate it, but how could you hate something so beautiful? How could you pretend to be unappreciative of something that clearly took time and effort to find, it wasn’t just vintage, it was antique. The fact that he’d searched for and seized the jewelry was a feat in itself.

You gingerly laid it back in its box, almost too afraid to hold it. Afraid of its fragility, afraid of what it stood for, how it made you feel. The tiny claws of emotion ripping at your throat stole your voice, you could only hope that Ghost couldn’t see your face from where you were standing or he would clearly see what he’d stirred up inside you.

You picked up the small bag and lifted the tissue paper gently, hoping it wasn’t another emotionally draining surprise.

It wasn’t draining, but it sure as hell was a surprise.

“What’s this?” You snorted, turning the bag over and dumping out a few cat toys.

You waited, checking your phone periodically but got no response. You knew he was still watching, so why wasn’t he answering? Sighing you shook your head and opted to take a look at the toys.

A felt kicker toy shaped as a bloody knife. A couple of fluffy spiders, eyeballs with bells inside, and a little vampire bat that was almost too cute to be a cat toy.

“Thanks.” You said quietly.

It was infuriating how well he knew you, he knew how to crawl into your brain and make you want more. How could you not when he did things like this? Thoughtful, well planned gifts, including your pet too. He knew that your cat was your baby and he’d taken the time to befriend her, cared about her enough to buy her things.

It made it all the more irritating that his choice of toys was just alittle funny. But you’d die before you admit that seeing the knife made you crack a grin.

Finally you decided it was time to open the envelope, as soon as you did, you understood why he’d asked you to open the gifts first.

LETTER

Little Doe,

I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. The hurt I saw, the words heard… I felt it in my soul when I watched you crumble.

My purpose is to love you, my job is to keep you safe, my goal is to make you happy. I’m only doing one of those things, it’s selfish of me to love you the way that I do. I know that.

What I’ve done is wrong, I’m aware. I can’t justify or explain it to you. Just know that the long and short of it is love, it’s not a normal love, but it’s mine and I’m giving it all to you.

There’s no way you’d understand the lengths I’d go to, the things I would do for you. You’d never comprehend how deeply I adore you. That’s okay. It’s hard for me to understand myself too.

The hairpin, it’s the goddess of the hunt and her fawn. I thought considering it all, it would be more than suitable for our situation.

You’re a saint, a deity, someone worth the labors of worship.

Goddesses aren’t meant to be touched, held, loved corporally. They’re meant to be imagined, a comforting presence that you feel all around you, bowed to in hopes of receiving grace. I’ve tried to go beyond the altar to reach you and for that I’m truly sorry.

Please, please take my offerings.

I love you, I need you, but I don’t deserve you. No one deserves attention from the heavens, especially not me. But if you are listening, if you’re willing, I’ll try my best to be the perfect follower.

So I’ll ask for a boon from my goddess:

Grant me passage on the road to repentance, or take my hand to walk through the valley.

You sat on your bed in silence for a long while, your cat coming to join you and accept the gifts left for her excitedly. It brought you a moment of peace to watch her waller around and smack the eyeballs across the floor.

So the overwhelming weight of the thin grey sheet of paper in your hand felt even heavier when she scampered off with her brand new bag toy hanging from her mouth like a fresh kill. She’d left you alone and undistracted again. Just you, your thoughts, and the suffocating silence surrounding you, the creeping tingle on your neck that told you he was still watching the cameras.

He was waiting.

So you sighed and crawled off the bed with your bouquet in tow, cutting the stems into the kitchen trash can and filling a glass vase with water to display them on the counter.

The grey paper followed you from room to room, seat to seat, from one hand to the other as you read it over and over. You could recite it by memory, it was burned into your retinas, you could still feel the indents of his pen on the paper long after you’d sat it aside, the smell of the paper dye singed your nostrils and didn’t leave even after your shower.

You thought you could clean yourself, wash your hands of the problem both literally and metaphorically.

No amount of scrubbing could rinse your brain well enough to wash away the thousands of jumbled words swirling around. You’d been trying to formulate one, just one, coherent sentence for a response. But each time you made progress, you changed your mind on the decision, you scrapped the idea, sent it to the shredder and recycled it into a slightly different, just as illegible mess.

He’s giving you an out. Take it.

Who cares if he still watches you? He won’t interfere. He won’t show up for visits, he won’t leave you gifts or notes.

He’d left you with an offering. A little piece of himself in exchange for your so called ‘divine intervention’. He was asking for the hand of god to stir the pot and serve it too. At least, that’s how he saw it.

For you it was just an awkward toss up of a bunch of jumbled pros and cons.

On one hand he was offering you freedom. Opening the bird cage and giving you the option to escape but clipping your wings, ensuring you can’t go too far.

He’d still watch, just not make an appearance… keep himself hidden like before.

This would also solidify Anakin’s safety, which you valued highly. You’d be free to have your beautiful blossoming relationship, without the worry and stress from the Ghost that haunts your apartment.

On the other hand he gave you the choice to join him in some capacity. To walk through the valley with him; would he walk two steps behind? Two in front? Or side-by-side?

It’d give you the opportunity to explore this stranger you’ve discovered living inside your mind and body. That weird itch that only Ghost can scratch, the thought of him alone just doesn’t do it for you anymore.

You’d have the chance to see who is under that mask and that was more intriguing than anything. You felt like the more you spoke to him, the more you watched him in person… maybe you’d be able to narrow it down to a few people. That might be worth the risks that come with allowing him to continue visiting.

So, you swallowed your fear and closed your eyes. A few silent moments later you spoke aloud, assuming Ghost was still listening.

“I’ll walk with you.” You said slowly, tasting the words as they left your lips. “On two conditions.”

‘What are they, deer?’ His response came instantaneously.

“You leave my friends and family alone. You swear on your life they’re safe and that includes Anakin. I mean it, I’m not fucking around about it okay?” You said confidently. “I already feel guilty enough, don’t make it worse for me.”

‘Guilty?’

“Yes guilty! I have a boyfriend, who I really, really like.” You said, feeling exhausted from the complexity of your choice. “This isn’t fair to him!”

“But it’s… it’s not fair to me either!” You said frustratedly as you blew out a long breath of air through pursed lips. “I deserve to know who you are! You’ve been watching me for god knows how long and I haven’t even heard your real voice.”

“And… and it’s not fair for you either.” You admitted quietly.

‘Why?’

“You’ve been… mostly harmless. Kind.” You confessed, considering saying more, much more. “You’ve been helpful. Despite everything you’ve done, you obviously care about me. I can’t ignore that especially now.”

‘Mostly harmless??’

‘Why ‘especially’ now?’

“You’re joking right?” You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head and trying to stifle a laugh of indignation. “You… well I mean it feels wrong to call it what it is. But- you.. you know what you did!” You crossed your arms frustratedly.

‘Ah… the extracurriculars.’

“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.” An expression of, strangely enough, amusement, crossed over your features. “What it is… well you know what it is.” You sighed.

“But for some reason… I don’t want to call it that.” You said quietly.

‘Hm. I’ll remember that.’

“I’m sure you will.” You huffed in spite of yourself, because if you were honest you’d be telling him you liked it. Your body liked it, your brain liked it, asleep or not, he’d affected you in ways you were unsure you could get with anyone else. Including your sweet and precious boyfriend, he’s too tender and loving.

“Second condition: you promise me that you’ll eventually tell me who you are.” You said firmly. “I deserve to know.”

‘I accept.’

“Okay then.” You sighed with relief and a bit of resignation. “You still have to warn me if you’re gonna be coming to visit though!”

‘Yes ma’am.’

“Ew. Add that to the list. Never call me ma’am again.” You snorted and it rolled into a full laugh when you finally looked up and caught your own gaze in your bedroom mirror. You were sitting in your room alone, speaking aloud, having a fully fleshed, seemingly one-sided conversation.

If anyone were to walk in on this scene playing out, they’d think you’ve lost your mind.

Maybe you already have.

Part Ten

The pendant that inspired the hairpin! I forgot to add it in sorryyyyyy

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 1@mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrott @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[m0nsterqzzz]

word count: 3k

- Liar Liar - 

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

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You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

 All is fair in love and music though.

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[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x reader - everybody’s favourite

Sorry for requesting something so soon after my Wanda ask... But all I can think of is like Hotchkiss with reader who just absolutely spoils him and jack because their like a CEO or something and want them to have the best. And one day they send Hotch to work with a gift for Spencer after a hard case (maybe a book he's been looking for but can't find). So the team get a little jealous and want to meet her. - @azeal-peal 💜

Looking at your phone, you smiled at your lock screen and went back to looking at the people you were sat in a meeting with.

“How about we take a small break?” You asked.

“Your boyfriend calling?” Someone chuckled.

You laughed softly, standing up as you grabbed your phone.

“Actually my boyfriend is here, and we’re in no rush to finish this project, I trust you all. Go take a few hours, we’ll meet back just after lunch.”

Everybody seemed happy with this arrangement, and you quickly tidied a few of the papers away, setting them aside and picked up your papers.

Heading to your office, you set them on the desk, then walked back outside, making your way across the office.

You saw him before he saw you, and you grinned from ear to ear as you walked closer.

“Hello sweetheart.” You greeted.

Hotch turned around, a smile gracing his face as he saw you.

He opened his arms and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him wrap his own around you and you pulled him down for a kiss.

Letting him go after a minute, you played with the hairs on the base of his neck.

“I just got back, Jack is at school so I thought I’d come see if you’re free.”

“I’m always free for you my darling.”

Hotch chuckled a little bit, letting go of you he held his hand out and you took it, letting him lead you back to his office.

He gathered your phone, your keys and your wallet for you, putting them into the pockets of his blazer, then held out his arm.

You looped your arm with his, making your way down to the parking lot.

“I was thinking about jacks trip, and I want to get him some new clothes for it, oh and a new suit for you, we have an appointment with the tailor.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I’m going to do it. So, suck it up and tell me about your case.”

Hotch nodded, opening the car door for you, and you got in.

When he was in the drivers side, he began to tell you about the case on the way to the tailors.

He explained how hard the case was for Reid, and what had happened, the fact that Reece had been hurt, and he’s really struggling with the fact he was hurt.

You listened carefully as he talked.

“The poor kid has it hard.” You sighed.

“I know, but honestly he’s one of the best agents we have, if not the best agent. I just wish there was some way to boost his confidence in himself.” Hotch sighed.

“Give it time, I imagine life has been hard for him because of how smart he is, and we know this world isn’t too kind to people who are different. Just keep supporting him Aaron and let him know you’re there for him.”

You guided your boyfriend into the tailors and over to the man who was waiting for him.

While they were measuring up a new suit, you were flicking through some others, looking at the colours and designs, then you made your way over to the accessories.

You found a nice, though expensive watch in the glass case.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Another man asked.

“Absolutely, though I was wondering if you have something a little less flashy and more work appropriate. My boyfriend wouldn’t be able to wear this to work.”

The man nodded his head, pulling out some watches.

“Some of these are more expensive due to their unique design, but they would be more appropriate for a working environment if you didn’t want it to be easily damaged.”

You looked through them, and you looked at a pure gold one, small intricate designs carved into the links of the watch.

“I like this, I’ll get this one. He’s currently getting a new suit fitted so I’d like to wait for that before paying, I’ll probably get him a few more ties as well. Something that says professional, but can be used for formal meals and such as well.”

He nodded.

“We have a few I think you’ll like them.”

You carried on picking some stuff up for Hotch, then waited by the counter for him, also getting yourself a new watch since you wanted a change.

When Hotch had his new suit fitted, it was brought over and he stood next to you.

“(Y/N) no, you can’t. This is all too much and it has to be expensive.”

You grinned a little bit, handing over your bank card.

“Oops, too late.”

He sighed, giving you a small smile as he shook his head and he leant forward, kissing your forehead.

“You’re too good for me…” he whispered.

“I’d say it’s the other way around sweetheart, oh, and before you go to work tomorrow I have something for you to take it.”

You never told Hotch what it was, but you did go pick it up later on that night before heading back home.

Jack was happily trying on all of his clothes, and you handed the box to Hotch with the instructions to give it to Reid first thing in the morning.

And he did, when he got to the office he waited for Reid and made his way over.

“(Y/N) wanted you to have this.”

He set the box on the desk and Reid furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Oh? The mysterious rich partner has a gift for the pretty boy?” Emily asked.

They all walked over to watch as Reid opened it.

He set the lid to the box aside, and he picked up the note that was neatly placed on the top.

“What’s it say?” Rossi asked.

“It says to always believe in myself.”

He set the note aside and picked up the very old book.

“It’s a first edition of a Russian novel I’ve been looking for…” he whispered.

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Garcia gasped.

“Damn, that must’ve cost a lot.” Morgan whistled.

They all nodded in agreement and Hotch just chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.

“They don’t care about cost, to (Y/N) they just want everybody to have the best.”

“Seriously Hotch, we have to meet them this isn’t fair.” JJ laughed.

Everybody immediately started asking him and begging him to be able to meet you.

They’d all heard about you, they knew about you from being the CEO of a large company, they’d seen photos of you and seen interviews of you thanks to Garica.

But they hadn’t had the chance to meet you, and they wanted to meet you, finally get to see the person who keeps gifting them all expensive gifts

[cameronsprincess]

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/drudyslut/739556685075611648

Rafe dating pogue reader and she and her (maybe she still lived with her family too) are moving houses/apartments and she’s like “rafe will you help me/us move?” And he’s like “sure?” And after moving boxes and furniture all day he’s like “I’m never letting you move stuff again. I’ll just pay someone. This was too much work” and then one of the first things they do once she makes her bed with sheets and blankets is fuck...

he’s such a cutie, willing to help then later on saying “yeah fuck this next time i’m paying someone”

CW: smut! 18+ established relationship, rafe’s a lil sweetie but also whiny bc manual labor, unprotected sex, praise.

note: this has been in the drafts since January (LMAO) and idk if i even like it but here ya go. likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

You’d been waiting on this day for so long. Finally getting to move out of your parent’s house, and live on your own. You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t going to miss them, of course you were, but living on your own meant getting to do whatever, whenever. It also meant you could have your boyfriend over whenever you wanted without the fear of your parents coming home and interrupting whatever it was you and Rafe were doing.

Your parents weren’t too fond of the idea of you dating a Kook. The Kook prince at that. But they didn’t know Rafe like you did, no one did. Not even your friends understood your infatuation with the eldest Cameron child. But not even the snide remarks and insults your friends and family made about Rafe made you leave. You loved him. And he loved you.

You’re sitting on your bed, swinging your feet back and forth as your eyes scan the length of your childhood bedroom. Boxes are scattered all around the room, the walls bare from removing all of your pictures and posters. You finally had everything packed, and now, all you needed to do was get moved into your new apartment.

Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your shorts, you pull up Rafe’s contact, pressing call and placing the phone between your shoulder and face. It rings once. Twice. And finally, he answers.

“Hey baby, what’s up?”

You smile. “Hi, Rafe. I was wondering if you could come help me? I have all my shit packed, but no way to get it moved into my new apartment.”

There’s a long pause. His silence making you wonder why it’s taking him so long to make up his mind. You are his girlfriend after all, he should want to help you.

He finally speaks after a beat of silence. “Sure, princess. I’ll be over in thirty.”

Your smile widens. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too, princess.”

You hang up the phone, deciding you could use a quick snack before he arrives, and making your way into the kitchen.

-

Thirty minutes later you’re lying in your bed, scrolling through TikTok when you hear a knock on the front door. Smiling to yourself at Rafe’s arrival, you hop out of bed and make your way to the door and swing it open.

“Hi, princess.” Rafe says, the smile you love so much gracing his face.

You step into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Hi, handsome. Thank you for coming to help me.”

His hands grip at your hips, pushing you back so his blue eyes are on yours. His eyes scan the length of your face for a minute before he speaks. “Of course. I’d do anything for you, baby.”

You can’t contain the wide smile that spreads across your face, butterflies explode in your stomach at how sweet Rafe was with you. Letting out a content sigh, you grab his right hand and begin pulling him into the house and to your bedroom where all of your stuff was.

“Okay, so I really just need help with my bed, dresser, and desk. I can fit most everything else in my car, and your backseats…”

Rafe exhales deeply, his eyes slightly widened when he looks over the expanse of your room. He brings his left hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Fuck. I should have just hired someone to do this.” He says admittedly.

You frown. “Baby, if you don’t wanna help I can always call JJ and John-”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. I’m going to help you baby, you just have… A lot more than I remembered. I guess it looks like more while packed all up and not placed in its respective places throughout the room..”

You smile up at him. “Yeah I guess so. I really don’t have all that much..”

Rafe dips his head down toward yours, placing his lips on yours softly. “I love you. Let’s get you moved.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “Oh, and never say you’ll call those fucking pogues to help you out again. As long as you have me, you have my help, and I don’t want you hanging around them more than you already do..”

-

Three hours, and many boxes and pieces of furniture later, you and Rafe had finally gotten all of your stuff moved into your new apartment. The two of you are laid in your bed, his right arm tucked under your waist while his left is draped over the top of your waist. His left hand rubs slowly up and down your side, his face buried in your neck as he whispers softly against your skin. “I love you, but never again. Next time you move, I’m hiring people to do that shit.”

You giggle, turning onto your side so you’re face to face with him. “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to help baby, but I’m happy you did.”

He tightens both of his arms around your waist and rolls onto his back, bringing your body with him so you’re laid on top of him. You place both of your palms on his chest, pushing yourself up so you’re straddling his hips.

His hands rest on your hips, his fingertips lightly scraping at the exposed skin of your sides, a trail of goosebumps rising. “Will you stop that?”

You frown. “Stop what?”

“Acting like I hate helping you. I don’t.”

Sighing, you say. “I know you don’t hate helping me, Rafe. But I know you didn’t enjoy that.”

He smirks. “I didn’t. But you know what I will enjoy?”

The feel of his cock hardening beneath you has you gasping. You playfully smack his chest. “Rafe Cameron. You’re such a horny bastard.”

His darkened over eyes find yours as his smirk widens. His fingers dig into your hips, pressing your clothed pussy into his now hard cock. “Only for you, princess.”

A squeal comes from your lips when he lifts his body, tossing your back onto the freshly made bed. He grabs at the hem of his black T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head and tossing it to your bedroom floor. Your hands fly to his defined abdomen, running your nails down the soft, yet hard skin.

“You wanna play, baby?” He asks, his voice is low and raspy, making arousal pool into your panties.

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding your head as your eyes find his.

He smiles widely, quickly popping the button of your denim shorts before working the zipper and sliding the fabric down your legs. He moves to your shirt next, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor with his shirt and your shorts.

You’re left in nothing but a red, lace set. Rafe’s eyes take in your entire body, making you squirm underneath his stare. “Rafe.” You breathe out. “Please, touch me.”

He smiles widely, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties and sliding the lace fabric down your legs. His fingers dance across the skin of your lower belly, making a shiver run through your body and your breath hitch in your throat.

He runs his fingers down the expanse of your stomach and down to your inner thighs. His fingers brush across your aching clit and your hips buck upward. He begins sliding his fingers slowly through your wet folds, gathering your arousal on his fingers before he removes them and brings them to his lips. You watch in awe as he sucks on his index and middle fingers.

He hums in appreciation. “So wet, so sweet… And all mine.”

You watch as he quickly strips himself of his khaki shorts, leaving him in a pair of black boxers. Your right hand goes to palm his hard-on through his boxers, pulling a low groan from his throat.

“So fuckin’ needy, baby.”

He slides his boxers down his legs and his hard cock springs free, pre-cum already leaking from the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight of his long and thick cock.

Rafe firmly grips the base of his cock, stroking it softly before he lines himself with your entrance. He slides his swollen tip through your soaked folds and you whimper, hips bucking wildly with need for him to be inside you.

He slowly pushes the head in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. He grins, pushing more of himself inside your wet cunt. He groans when he finally pushes all the way inside, your warm inner walls clenching around him tightly. “Feels so fuckin’ good baby, fuck! I’ll never get enough of this sweet pussy.”

You whine when he slowly pulls himself back. His right hand grabs at your left leg, lifting it and placing it over his shoulder, allowing him better access to thrust himself in side you. A sharp gasp falls from your lips when he slams himself back inside you, his head hitting that sweet spot inside you.

Finding a good, quick pace, Rafe slams himself in and out of your soaked pussy, the squelching sounds of your cunt and skin slapping skin bounce off the walls of your small bedroom.

You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him further into your body as he continues his assault on you. “Ffffuck, Rafe! Please! Harder!” You cry out.

A low growl rumbles through his chest, his hips picking up in speed. He harshly slams in and out of you, hitting at your g-spot with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby! ‘M gonna fucking cum all inside this pussy, you want that? Want me to fill your greedy hole up with my cum?”

You whimper, chest rising and falling rapidly as a warmth spreads in your lower belly. Your pussy tightens around his cock, squeezing at him tightly as your release nears.

“Yes! I want all your cum, Rafe! Please!”

You shout out a string of curse words followed by his name, legs shaking uncontrollably as you come undone around him.

He harshly thrusts one more time, his dick twitching inside you as he comes undone right behind you, filling your pussy with his cum.

“Fuck! Such a good fucking girl. My fucking girl” He coos as he thrusts two more times, fucking his cum deep inside you.

He drops your left leg onto the mattress and collapses on top of you, his breathing uneven. He rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms tightly around your body and pulling you into him, leaving a kiss at the top of your head. “I love you, princess.”

You smile, your heavy eyes fluttering. “I love you too, Rafe.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r

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[fluffyomorashii]

I live across from a bar grill type restaurant so decided to walk over to have some drinks and bar food since I would be alone and something to do! It’s raining slightly but I just put on a hoodie and black leggings and jog across the street. No big deal! (|||⇁_⇁)

A little over an hour and a half passes and I’m two alcoholic drinks in (and they weren’t afraid to pack these drinks with Hella alcohol!!) I was well tipsy now and had to pee 30 mins ago, but seeing that home was literally a minute walk away I decided I’d like to pee in the comfort in my own home lol.

I pay and leave exiting the door and stop.. it’s not raining anymore it’s more like the fucking sea was falling from the sky, the wind was making it worse and so cold.. immediately all the water and the sudden cold temperature aggressively reminded me I really really had to pee.. I braced myself and put my hands in my hoodie pocket so stuff in between my legs, waiting for intense wave to pass

Once I had control I put my hood on and immediately started running across the parking lot running up to the sidewalk and immediately I’m soakedddd the rain was coming down HARD I could barely even see!! I had to stop at the sidewalk to wait for the cars to stop and it felt like my bladder was spiking filling up times 10.. I was I was shifting side to side my thighs pressed together, when finally, the red light came on, and the cars stopped.

I fucking flew across that road and passed the first house, and then there was my house right there!! Ignoring going the long way up the driveway I cut through the yard mud and water splashing everywhereee. I ran up the stairs to the small little square porch we have at our front door that thankfully had a small square roof over it. I took only a second to breathe then went right to action-

Scrambled to take off my muddy soaked shoes as I quickly reached into my pocket to yank out my keys- yanking my phone out accidentally and it fell to the ground bouncing, almost falling off the porch. I quickly cursed and crouched down to grab it, when I found myself awkwardly crossing my legs as I crouched pushing the heel of my foot into my crotch as I felt an intense pressure in my bladder.. (¬////¬)

I could tell I peed a tiny bit because I felt warm while the rest of me was cold, and that feeling didn’t help.. all the being drunk, rain splashing around me, being soaked, the cold giving me intense bladder warnings I couldn’t deal-.. I realized ..oh my God I can’t…I’m-..I’m gonna pee….

I shot back up and immediately a sudden fast pee stream noisily released, splattering quickly between my legs, mixing with the rain sound.. I was panicked by how fast the emergency to accident happened but also let out a shaky sigh as the intense bladder warnings slowly faded as my legs became warmer and warmer.

I looked up, and even though the rain was so thick I’m sure no one could see anything, I nervously turned away to face the door, and looked down watching the rapidly growing puddle slide off the porch and down the stairs.. when I was just left with a few trickles down my legs I slowly reached for my keys and unlock the door. Thankful I had black leggings and thankful the rain was so intense the Wet spot was too hard to see anyway! (っ- ‸ - ς)

[windowsandfeelings]

Have you cried in an airport terminal this morning? Do not recommend it!

FUCK. AETNA.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hello again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tension remains. It feeds into your anxiety. An impatience that needles in your chest. You want to get this done with. You want to go home. But each time that desperate yearning tweaks, you remember that you won’t be going home. Not right away. You’ll be going back to Andy’s. 

He holds the door for you again as you enter the pharmacy. You roll your tank with you, reminded by the squeaky wheels of the constant companion. It’s like a part of you. It keeps the parts of you that don’t work from failing completely. That thought makes you feel even smaller. 

Again, you walk down that middle aisle. The pharmacist greets you and Andy together. He replies as you stay quiet and browse the lozenges lined up under the window. 

“I don’t think we have her insurance on file,” the pharmacist says as he puts in the amount owing. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just give us a receipt and we’ll make a claim.” Andy assures. 

“I have...” you reach into your belt bag and sift around. “Here.” 

You pull out the card you keep on you at all times. There will still be a copay owing. You don’t have money on you. Your mother is always sure to swipe her card with a tut. 

“Um, I don’t... I don’t have the credit card,” you mutter at Andy. 

“That’s fine,” he steps closer, pressing against you. 

The pharmacist keys in your insurance number and hands the card back. You accept it with a sheepish smile. Your chest is tight and your cheeks are scalding. He taps the enter button and looks at Andy. 

“Five bucks, left over.” 

“Even?” Andy says lightly as he reaches into his back pocket, “no problem.” 

He opens his wallet and plucks out a bill, handing it over. You sink down in shame. You can’t even pay a couple bucks for your livelihood. The pharmacist hands over the stapled white bag with the receipt and script attached.  

Andy takes it and reads the label as the pills rattle inside. His eyes narrow as his gaze turns pensive. He clucks his tongue and offers you the bag. You thank him and hug it against your side. 

“I’ll get mom to pay you back,” you assure him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves you off. “Like I said yesterday, I want to help out.” He gestures you ahead of him. You turn and head back toward the front of the store. He’s only a step behind you, trailing like your shadow. “Hey, do you think you could do me one favour?” 

You approach the door and grab the metal handle. The bag presses against it in your grasp as you try to pull it open. It’s heavier than you expect. Your pills drop and hit the floor. You gasp but before you can retrieve them, Andy scoops them up. 

He hands them over again. You look at him and frown, “what?” 

He opens the door and lets you through first. He follows again. “Did you want to write down all your appointments for me? I’d like to put them in my calendar. Just in case.” 

“My... appointments?” You echo as he points you toward his car. 

“Sure. Your mom must be stretched thin as it is. Might be why she gets a bit snappy. If I can help a little...” 

“You-- you don’t have to,” you murmur. 

“I want to,” he opens the passenger door. He hauls up your tank, dragging it from your grasp, and sets it in the SUV. “Must be hard, living in the hospital.” He offers his hand. “Your mom says you don’t have any friends.” 

Your eyes glaze at once. You’re humiliated. What else does your mom tell him for him to think you so pathetic? You grab his hand and heave yourself up into the car. 

“Thanks,” is all you can muster as you untangle the air tube and get your seat belt in place. 

He gently shuts the door and goes around to the other side. You squeeze the bag and look out the window, ignoring Andy as he gets in the driver’s seat. He doesn’t say another word as he turns the engine and patiently waits to pull out of the spot. 

He idles at a stop sign and flips on the stereo. You flinch and look over as the station titles flash across the display in the middle of the dashboard. He stops on a Current Hits station. 

“Bet you like this stuff,” he says as the sultry pop plays. 

You’ve never heard this song. You focus as you try to make out the lyrics. 

‘Say you can't sleep, baby, I know 

That's that me espresso 

Move it up, down, left, right, oh 

Switch it up like Nintendo’ 

Your eyes widen as you pick up the innuendo. You shift in your seat and lean into the door. You grip the handle of the tank tighter. 

“I don’t know this one,” you eke out. 

“Really? I heard this girl was really popular.” 

“Um, I’m not sure.” 

“It’s not bad, is it?” He taps his thumb so the volume increases. “I’ve heard worse, for sure.” 

You wallow in the rhythm and the lyrics. You can’t relate much to them.  

‘Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya...’ 

You try not to be prudish. It isn’t that sex stuff scares you or that you think it’s wrong. You just don’t know much about it. You don’t have the experience. You never had the chance to. It’s just a mystery that makes you feel stupid. 

“I like it,” he bobs his head, “what about you?” 

You shrug, “she has a nice voice.” 

You stare out at the streets as he drives on. The music doesn’t get much better. It seems like every song that’s popular is about... that. You zone out and let the words blur together. 

The car stops and the sudden lack of motion makes you dizzy. You sit up and undo your belt as you peek out at Andy’s house. You hope your mom is awake. She’ll probably want to go home. 

You get out before Andy can grab you or the tank again. As helpful as he is, it’s a bit suffocating. You don’t want to tell him so because you know he means well. Besides, after everything he’s done, it would be rude. 

He patiently trails you to the front door. You watch him punch in the door code, reminded of the coincidence that they perfectly align with your birth date. Does he realise? He would’ve had all your info to file the case and all that. You shake off that memory. You’re still recovering from all that. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks as he pushes the door open and steps back to let you inside. 

“Nothing, just... thinking of... stuff.” 

“The case?” He guesses easily. 

“Maybe,” you enter and stop to slip off your sneakers. 

“Did I tell you how good you did, sweetheart? You know, it’s a lot for most people but you really were so well-spoken,” he praises. 

“Mm, oh thanks, I guess,” you mutter. 

Before he can reply, your mother’s voice calls from the second floor. “Andy, is that you? Oh, my head.” 

She appears at the top of the stairs. She’s in a robe that’s too big for her. Probably his. She keeps her hand against her temple as she leans on the banister post. 

“There you are. I didn’t know where you’d gone.” She mopes. 

“Like I said, we just went to get her script,” Andy states flatly. 

“You were a rather long time,” she counters, swaying at the top of the stairs, “I missed you.” 

“Hm, well, it was a bit of a wait,” he says curtly. 

You inch away from Andy and your mom sneers in your direction, “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” 

“All good,” he assures, “it’s after noon. You should get dressed.” 

“Mm, yes, I suppose,” she sniffs. 

“I’m... I’m going to go to the guest room, make sure I have everything,” you utter. 

Andy sighs. “Sure, I gotta get back to work. Gotta make a call.” 

You climb the stairs as your mother disappears with a stomp. She isn’t happy with Andy’s dismissal. You go down the hall as a door slams. You go into the guest room, happy to hide there, knowing you already have everything with you. You’ll wait there until she’s ready to go. 

You stare out the window. That song is stuck in your head. The beat is good and catchy. Still, the lyrics make you squirm. 

The door swings open behind you. You cough as you face your mother’s blustery entrance, “what did you do?” 

You blink at her cluelessly, “mom?” 

“Yes, obviously you’ve pissed him off, so tell me, what did you do? I told you, I’d get the pills.” 

“I didn’t-- he said—he wanted too--” 

“Oh it’s never your fault,” she hisses. “After everything we’ve done and you just keep taking, don’t you?” 

“Mom, he only... we went to the pharmacy.” 

“You could wait. You’re not running dry on any of your precious pills. Like an addict.” 

You frown. The meds you take aren’t addictive, even if you are reliant on them. If it was up to you, you wouldn’t choose any of this. 

“No, I didn’t--” 

She storms towards you and grabs the belt bag around your waist. You squeal as she rips open the zipper and reaches inside. She tosses the contents onto the floor. 

“I’m missing a bottle of Xanax,” she snarls. “And you’ve been so spacy, haven’t you?” 

“Xanax?” You gulp, “no mom, I didn’t-- I wouldn’t.” 

“I’m not stupid. All you do is sit around and feel sorry for yourself and now you’ve got Andy doing it too.” She snarls and jerks by the belt bag, your air tube slipping off your ears. You cough and push against her. 

“Mom, please, not here. When we get home--” 

“So you took them!” She accuses. 

“No, mom--” 

“You’re such a lying little bitch,” she snarls. Her eyes flare like a snake’s. When she gets like this, she can’t stop. “I didn’t raise you to be a thief.” 

You struggle with her, trying to get her hands off the belt. When you can’t free yourself from her grasp, you push on the clasp and release it. She stumbles back as the bag comes loose and you stagger at the sudden release of tension. You fall back against the window sill and whimper. 

“I swear, mom, I didn’t take anything,” you plead and shield yourself behind your hand.  

She looks at the slack bag in her hand. She considers it as she tightens her hold on the empty pouch. She pulls her arm back and swings it at you. The plastic clasp hits your forearm, leaving a welt there as she reels back to lash again. 

“Danica!” Andy’s voice roars through like thunder. You falter and slip down to your knees. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Your mother’s face drains and her eyes round like a deer. She lowers her arm and straightens, her expression smoothing over as she faces him. “Honey,” she purrs softly, “I was just helping--” 

“No, I saw what you did,” he crosses his arms as you sit on your feet, breathless against the wall. 

“Look, honey,” your mother nears him, “she stole from me. Antidepressants. Do you know how dangerous that is? It could affect her other medications.” 

“So you’re beating her with a belt?” He challenges. 

She chokes and shakes her head, “no, it’s not—I'm just so stressed. I put so much into taking care of her and now she’s messing around with pills--” 

“They are in your goddamn purse,” he comes forward and tears the bag out of her hand. 

“What, no. I checked--” 

He snarls and grabs her wrist, dragging her out of the room. You gape after them, stunned and confused. This can’t be real. 

You grab your tank and use it to push yourself to your feet. You limp after them as he harshly marches her down the hall. His feet bang on the stairs, making you flinch with each step. Your mother whines weakly and begs. “Andy please, you’re hurting me.” 

He lets go as he gets to the front door and he grabs her purse from the table against the wall. He reaches inside and takes out the orange bottle. He shakes it in her face. 

“Don’t talk to me about hurting you,” he barks. “After what I just saw--” 

“It’s a misunderstanding,” your mother issues a brittle laugh, “sweetie, tell him, I didn’t hurt you.” 

“You’re laughing?” He grits. “Danica, get out of my house. Right now.” 

“You have to listen--” 

“Go. Now.” He raises his voice and you shrink back, terrified. His anger is like a storm. 

You mother huffs and drops her head. She turns and straightens her posture, “fine. Come on, let’s go.” 

She snaps her fingers at you. You grip your tank tightly at your side and wheel towards the stairs. She’ll just take this out on you at home. 

“Are you insane? She’s not going with you,” he insists. 

“She’s my daughter,” your mom snarls. 

“She’s your victim,” he retorts and grabs her arm. She whines and smacks him across the face. He recoils and brings his hand to his cheek. 

She pants heavily. His jaw squares as you feel his wrath roiling from the second floor. He’s quiet as he shoves the pills back into her purse and picks the whole thing up. He pushes it into her chest. 

“Go.” 

“Andrew, my car--” 

“You’re a fucking adult. Figure it out before I call the cops.” 

“The cops—Andrew, you can’t--” 

“Oh, I can’t? Because I will have a protective order by the end of today,” he snips. 

“I have guardianship--” 

“I can have it revoked,” he growls. 

She huffs and puffs again, “Andrew, please, you don’t understand--” 

“Get.” He takes a step back and opens the door. “Out.” 

Your mother shakes her head and turns to look up at you. “Dear, please, tell him--” 

You just stare, paralysed by the scene. This can’t be real.  

She snivels and wiggles her nose, crying without tears. She faces Andy again, “she hit me first--” 

“Out.” 

She cringes and snarls, fluttering her fingers in his face, “you’ll see, honey. She’s a burden you don’t want.” She flicks her fingertips at him and scoops up her heels. “You better call the police fast before I do.” 

No sooner than she steps out of the door than Andy swings it with a shaking slam. You peer down at him as your head wobbles. You fumble around for your oxygen, shaking as you bring it over your ears. He faces you and slowly climbs the stairs. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go get your things together.” 

[boredmadamoiselle]

You know where to find me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: Charles is out to dinner, enjoying the evening with friends until he gets a naughty text from you. What is he going to do... to you?

Warnings: Smut. Masturbation. Teasing. Charles a little possessive maybe? English isn't my first language, so it might contain some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration. 

As Charles was out to dinner with friends and you had stayed home, you had decided to clean your apartment and ended up tidying up your closet as well. While improvising a fashion show and pretending to be a model in your bedroom, you tried on some clothes you thought you had lost or that no longer fit you. 

You were rearranging the lingerie drawer when you found an old red bodysuit you had bought some time ago and for some strange reason never used. It was time to fix it, you thought. 

The red color reminded you of Ferrari and of Charles. He loved seeing you in red, that’s why you wore that color often – both on and off the track –, it was your way to support him. So you were sure Charles would love that bodysuit on you, especially the part where he would take it from you. Just the thought turned you on immediately. 

You looked at your phone. It was nearly midnight; it was time for Charles to come home and take care of you. It had been, in fact, several hours since Charles had left the house, he had probably had enough fun, now it was your turn. 

After putting the bodysuit on and taking a quick look in the mirror to fix your hair and put on some makeup, you got on the bed and took a few pictures with your phone. 

Satisfied with the result you sent a message and some pictures to your boyfriend and waited for his response. 

-

Charles was listening to his friends chatting when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He couldn’t help but smile seeing that it was you. He opened the notification without hesitation. 

Hey, amour. How is it going? Hope you’re having fun. 

Look what I found. 

The text was accompanied by some pictures. 

“Fuck”, Charles whispered as he opened the first image before remembering where he was and with whom. 

He looked up from his phone and looked around. Luckily his friends were still engaged in their previous conversation, so no one was paying attention to him. 

He went back to looking at the picture you had sent him. His mouth watered at the sight of you on your bed in front of the mirror with almost nothing on but a red lace bodysuit that left little room for the imagination. But the things he imagined doing to you were many. 

He texted you back. 

Y/n, please... Don’t.

You were quick to respond. 

What? I thought you would like it

You know you were playing with fire and that later you would suffer the consequences, but you couldn’t help but teasing him now. In the end you knew it would be worth it. 

That’s the problem, Y/n. I loved it… But I’d rather you without 

As he imagined slowly taking off the bodysuit from you and your naked body under his, he received another message from you. 

Well… you know where to find me😏

If it was up to him, he would have already got in the car and would be on his way to you as fast as he could. 

Baby, I can’t leave yet

Please

You loved to see him beg even though you knew you would regret it later when the roles would be reversed. Since he was going to make you pay, you wanted to enjoy yourself while you could. 

I get it, Cha. But I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist. Maybe I should take the matter into my own hands while I wait for you? 

His erection, already hard, was pushing against his pants. 

Y/n, don’t you dare…

Charles was still writing when you texted him back. 

I'll stop writing now. My fingers have better things to do. Have fun, see u later 😉

Your message left Charles speechless and unable to answer. That was pure torture, he thought. How could he enjoy the rest of the evening if all he could think about was you and what you were doing right now? Did you stand by your words and were you taking care of yourself?, Charles thought. The image of you touching yourself and moaning kept playing in his mind, driving him crazy and also a little jealous. He wanted to be the one making you feel good and hear you screaming his name over and over again. 

The more he thought about it, the more impatient he became and wanted to get out of there. The air inside was getting hotter. He loved his friends and spending time with them, but at that moment he could only think of you. He desperately wanted you. It was amazing the effect you had on him, even from a distance. 

He looked at his watch impatiently, it was past midnight. They had been there for several hours; his friends wouldn't mind if he left. At most he would have invented some excuse, for example that he was tired. He looked at his watch again, it was time to go home for him… to get back to you.

-

After your last message, you had waited for Charles a little. You hoped your words had had some effect on him but seeing he didn’t arrive, you got bored in the end. You were still turned on by the conversation you had had with Charles. You closed your eyes and started to think about your boyfriend and the things he would have done to you if he had been there. 

Your hands slowly moved towards your pussy. As you rubbed your fingers over your panties, pressing them over the fabric, you could feel the cotton soaking through, making you shiver. 

You moaned, your bodysuit soon pushed to the side and one finger inside of you, getting all wet by your arousal. You whimpered at the contact, imagining it was Charles doing that to you.  

As you picked up the pace and pushed another finger between your wet folds, you were starting to feel your own arousal become nigh unbearable. You tilted your head back as your hips thrust to meet your fingers. 

You didn't hear the front door close or the footsteps approaching the bedroom. 

You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You were almost there when someone grabbed your hands, pinning them over your head and stopping you from reaching your orgasm. 

You instantly widened your eyes. 

“Charles! You scared me to death!”, you screamed. 

Charles smirked and looked at you with desire as he was above you, holding one knee between your legs and pressing on your pussy.

“Yeah, baby? This is what happens when you get caught doing something you shouldn’t.”

You weren’t really scared; his words were actually turning you on even more. 

“This is what happens when your boyfriend doesn’t show up on time. You are a racing driver and are so slow?”, you challenged him. 

Charles would never admit it but he loved it when you acted like a brat, it excited him.

He remained silent as his eyes wandered over your body and gently stroked you with one hand. He licked his lips and his cock hardened at the sight of your wet and naked cunt. He was dying to be inside you but he knew he needed to be patient, he wouldn't let you win so easily. 

“I was about to come, Charles”, you sighed, pretending to be frustrated. 

Charles knew it well. He had already been there for several minutes enjoying the show when he politely interrupted you. At another time he would have gladly watched you pleasure yourself and allowed you to finish the work but not that day. You would only come when he let you. 

His fingers caressed your slit, teasing it and collecting your wetness while you winced and moaned as you were still sensitive. He gently flicked your clit, sending shocks down your spine. His fingers dug into you, without much resistance. You began to slowly move your hips but Charles had other plans for you and pulled his fingers out, putting them in his mouth to taste you. 

“Only good girls are allowed to come. Have you been a good girl, chérie?”, he whispered looking at you and wearing a cocky smile, his face a few meters from yours before to kiss you roughly. 

You could feel all his desperation and desire in that kiss. He wanted you too. 

He walked away from your lips. “I don’t think so. You are just a little slut who couldn’t even wait for his boyfriend to come home.”

Before you could reply, he started to move down, kissing down your neck and chest, biting a little, sucking a little more, making you gasp as he got to one of your breasts. 

He was touching and kissing you everywhere except where you needed him the most and that was driving you crazy. You knew it was your time to beg. 

“Please, Charles… I can be good for you, let me show you”, you said in a trembling voice. 

He looked up at you. “I don’t know if you deserve it. You should rather be punished, don’t you think?”

At those words you knew you had a long night ahead. You nodded at him as you couldn’t wait to be punished. 

That night, in fact, you had to wait before coming as Charles teased you a lot but several hours and orgasms later it was worth it… three times.

[see-arcane]

With a total of 1,176 votes tallied, the preferred plushie poll winner with 28.8% of votes is…

What a close one! Jonathan came in with 27.7%, the mysterious Mr. Morse with 24.9% and, delicious irony of ironies, London Dracula with 18.9%. Rest in pieces. Now, what does all this mean going forward?

First, just to reconfirm: I will absolutely be looking into the costs for having more than one plushie character produced at a time. For all that Mina has the top spot if it comes down to a solo run, Nobody Wants to Separate the Gothic Horror Soulmates, even as wee little plushies. It hurts my heart to think of. Mina and Jonathan deserve to sit side by side on everyone’s pillow. Just as Quinn Morse deserves to haunt the pillow next to theirs while casually throttling and carving London Dracula into pieces. For enrichment.

But beyond that, some other key things:

How is this getting done?

Sadly, I was not a cool enough kid for Makeship to greenlight a collaboration with me. Tragique. But while I was sitting around waiting for them to get back to me, I had time to browse around for other options. During that sniffing around I dug up a couple of promising manufacturers—one of which has some really neat options for not only plush toys, but all sorts of bric-a-brac like stationery, shirts, bags, cups, et cetera—and I plan to reach out to them for quotes to start with. Nothing really gets to move forward until I can nail down prices and the amount of X plushies to be made.

I am more than a little hesitant to tell anyone MAKE ME 1000+ PLUSHIES, PLEASE, THE TUMBLR POLL SAID THEY’RE GOOD FOR IT. These aren’t as simple as print/make-on-demand products, so I need to be careful estimating the amount of folks ready and willing to drop money on the little guys. But I will keep everyone updated on the numbers regardless!

Sooo is this a crowdfunding thing or an investment or what?

Don’t know yet. I am still between jobs at the moment—reminder to check out my Ko-Fi if you want to drop me a buck or commission some art!—but if this is something I can safely drop some of my own money in with the guarantee that it will let me do better than break even, I’ll do what I can out of pocket. However, if the cost of making something of good quality turns out too steep, I’ll start looking into stuff like Kickstarter and Backerkit and so on. I want to be sure I’m not gutting anybody’s wallet to pull this off and I want to be double-sure that what we’re paying for isn’t some flimsy throwaway junk. We are all here on the same Dracula book club starving artist site, so It Has to Be Worth It and not a money-sink for anyone.

Got it. Any other info to spare?

For the plushies specifically, this is when I’ll start:

Polishing up the current four designs into cleaner illustrations with different angles to provide for mockup samples with whoever I pick to manufacture with. If I get stuck on something—(which is likely)—I may throw up another poll to bug everyone about palettes and fashion choices. I have a few more designs I haven’t dropped yet for Epilogue Harkers, a non-Bloofer Lucy, and keychains that I’d love to share too!

Eyeballing materials. I’m already picturing a very close-cut cloth for the build and clothes, but I need to decide on filling too. Stiff overstuffing to hold a pose versus softer/lighter plush for floppy cuddleability. 

Poking at other character roughs, ala the Suitor Squad, the Weird Sisters, Van Helsing, Renfield, and Baby Quincey. And if all of those go well…

…maybe some designs for other favorites in the public domain playground. (Looks meaningfully at Clarimonde, Carmilla, Victor Frankenstein and the Creature, the King in Yellow, too many others.) ((But that’s all far-future stuff at the moment.))

Cool! But you also mentioned something about other merch?

I did.

Because goddamn do I want some Dracula-themed stationery. Journals! Memo pads! Pens! Every day we don’t have these things with the Harkers’ mark upon them is a victory for the forces of Count Dracula’s document-destroying evil. Likewise for shirts, totes, mugs, keychains, face masks and other things that could use some novel-flavored goodies. Hell, I’ll probably even get on with making stuff for The Vampyres to link on my website too. Because I am. Maybe behind on that. By several months.

Anyway.

I’ve got to start working on some designs for those too while the plushie process is progressing. Pray that my carpals don’t get tunneled.

Nice! Sounds like your plate is pretty full. So that’s it, right?

:)

Arcane?

:3c

Arcane. I need you to tell me this is all you’re working on.

>:}

Arcane.

Please stand by.

I have a little treat brewing for the Dracula Dailiers and @re-dracula folks in honor of a very special day for our good friend Jonathan Harker.

[ravennaortiz]

Who were you talking to? I'll let you know when you've learned your lesson. Feels like Jax . The dark possessive Jax that would grab you by the throat and slam you against the wall to prove a point and make sure you were paying attention. Requested by @privatetruths. As always 18+. Prompt from my yandere prompt list.

Lesson

Too say Jax Teller was furious when he roared up his driveway was an understatement. Not a single thing had gone right and he just wanted to shower, eat and fuck. Yet he knew with how you hadn’t responded to his text or answered his call earlier that you were either wanting to argue or were fucking around. Hearing you giggling in the kitchen had him seeing red as he heard you say stop it in a flirty tone.

Jax tore wild eyed into the kitchen looking for whatever poor soul you had brought to his home. “Whats wrong with you” you asked with a hint of annoyance after ending the call and putting your phone in your hoodie pocket.

Before you could react Jax had you slammed into the wall, hand on your throat as he held you up so just the tips of your toes touched the floor. You yelped and clawed at his forearm barely hearing the words he growled in your ear. “Who were you talking too?” demanded Jax as he loosened his grip enough so you could speak.

“No one baby. Just a friend” you croaked out. You were relieved when he lowered you to where your feet were flat on the floor.

“Give me your phone” demanded Jax as he held out is other hand.

Slowly you pulled your phone out and gave it to him. Jax pressed his thumb to the screen and when nothing happened his face slowly turned back to yours. Brow raised and his eyes curious as he gave a low dark chuckle.

“I just” you started to explain but Jaxs grip tightened choking off your words.

“Am a whore” stated Jax before rearing back and spitting in your face.

The warm glob hitting your cheek before sliding down to your lips. Snaking your tongue out you pulled his spit into your mouth as he watched you. Without a word Jax yanked you over to the table. Using one hand he knocked everything to the floor with a strong swing of his arm. Slamming you onto the table before his hands moved to his belt and jeans. Once his hardened cock was out he man handled you so that your head hung over the edge of the table. Grabbing your jaw he forced your mouth open before shoving his cock all the way in.

You choked and gagged around him. This position leaving you no way to breathe well. Jax smiled down as he started thrusting in and out of your throat, balls slapping your forehead and his hands gripped tightly around your throat making it feel even tighter around him.”Wanna play like a little whore? I will treat you like a little whore babe” he growled as he slammed into you one last time after a few minutes and just held you in place as you thrashed around and clawed at his arms leaving thin red scratches.

“I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson” you sputtered as you gasped for air. Lips swollen, face and hair a mess of drool, sweat and makeup.

Jax chuckled as he patted your cheek before spinning your body on the table. “I’ll let you know you’ve learned your lesson babygirl” he cooed as he ripped your shorts and panties away from your body. You whined as the cold air hit your dripping pussy. “You like when I’m mean and rough huh?” asked Jax as he slapped your pussy making you moan and bite your lower lip as you nodded. “Gonna be a good girl now? Count daddy’s spankings for him. I’d hate to have to start over” he stated as he delivered another slap making you gasp out as you screamed the word two.

Later

“Need anything else love?” inquired Jax as he filled your wine glass and set a little platter of cheese and fruits on the stand by the tub. You shook your head as you grabbed a piece of cheese and popped it into your mouth. “I love you, ring the bell if you need anything” murmured Jax as he gave you a kiss on the forehead and stepped out of the bathroom.

Want more Jax? Click here

Want to make your own request? Click here

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Six: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, NONCON (somno), mask kink (Ghostface), sex toys, knife, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, forced oral, forced orgasm, drugging [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is such a good 👻 even without all the stabbing. He’s getting cocky with us. Some bitch tries to flirt.[diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 12th

I feel alittle bit bad… but not really, for lying to you. I don’t actually have work tonight. It just seemed like the most logical thing to say you know? So… apologies baby, that wasn’t very nice of me.

To make up for the lie I was about to tell you, I slipped a pair of your panties from your laundry basket, you were awfully dazed after I used that little line I stole from one of your books. It was really, really cute how you fawned like that. Those big beautiful doe eyes looking up at me like I’d just told you that you won the lottery.

I guess you kind of did, or at least my version of it. I had a lot planned for you tonight and tomorrow night. You’re getting your reward and then some.

So with your pretty little lacy panties in my pocket I went upstairs and immediately got to work. Now, I know this probably sounds just a smidgen gross but I promise I’ve tried it out on some of my own clothes until I got it right. You won’t even notice.

It’ll be just like your pillow okay? That small, harmless piece of me helps you sleep at night and, well, I want you to feel that secure all the time. No matter where you are. I want you to have a piece of me.

So, you know that strange little extra bit of fabric in the crotch of all your panties? That no one really knows the purpose of? Well I’ve discovered the perfect purpose.

With a small flat paint brush I’m going to dot my cum along the seam on the inside of that pocket.

Like I said, I’ve tried it out. You won’t even notice, it won’t get all crusty and gross like you might think okay? It’ll only be alittle teeny, tiny, bit of it.

So, I’ve tested it on my things, but not yours. I didn’t want to test it on the dirty pairs I’d borrowed from you because well… those are mine and they won’t be going back into your drawer. Ever.

That’s why I snatched up this pair. To test it on the real thing. And when I tell you this is the best idea I’ve had in a while I mean it. It’s perfect. I’ve already got everything set up.

Those dirty panties are really gonna help me out while I pump my cum out into your favorite new coffee mug.

The second you leave for work I’m headed over there to carefully apply my love to every pair of undies you’ve got. I just know how much you enjoy it, I mean you only ever use the pillow I keep fucking, so I’m doing something right… right?

You little freak. Needing my cum in your panties so you can feel safe and comfy even without me there to hold your hand. We’re not quite there yet and that’s okay, because we have these subtle ways of loving each other don’t we?

Date: July 12th

If the little bell above the door chimes *one more time* and it’s not Anakin, you might scream. It’s 7:20, doesn’t he have to clock-in at 8:00ish? What if he didn’t actually mean it? Was he just being nice? Have you read this situation completely wrong? Have you-

**ting-ting-ting**

You could’ve gotten whiplash from the speed at which you swiveled your head toward the entryway. A flood of relief rushed over you when you saw the familiar bright face that belonged to your dreamy eyed neighbor.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said, his voice low and smooth. He didn’t hide the way he drank in your appearance, or at least what was visible behind the counter.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, blush dusting across the bridge of your nose.

“What’s a guy gotta do for a slice of butterscotch pie?” He crooned, hopping up on the red and chrome barstool nearest to you.

“Say please.” You smirked.

“Please princess, may I have a slice of pie?” He grinned.

You produced a pre-cut slice in a small to-go container from the icebox behind the counter. Sliding it across the counter to him with a fork laid across the top, you missed the small frown on his lips when you were startled by the bell again.

“Sorry. I’ll be right back.” You said hurriedly.

You rushed to the booth where an older man, one of your regulars, slid into place. He always ordered the same thing. Coffee and the daily special, so you were back in front of Anakin in no time at all.

“Hi.” You smiled, letting out a rushed breath.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said, his eyes soft and warm. “Tryin’ to get rid of me already?” He teased, tapping the to-go box with the fork.

“What? N-no of you course not.” You shook your head vehemently. “No, I just wasn’t sure if you were coming and I thought-“

“Wait,” he stopped you, plucking the pen that was still tightly gripped in your palm and replacing it with his fingers. “You thought I wasn’t coming?” He asked.

He looked hurt, deeply hurt, at the notion that you would think he would miss a single second of being in your presence. His hand cradled yours in the way that gentleman in movies held the hands of women they fancied, right before they bring their knuckles to their lips for a kiss.

“Well, it’s just- it was later than I thought.” You said anxiously, feeling silly that you’d doubted him, beginning to quickly over explain yourself. “I just know you’ve gotta be at work at 8:00 or something and I was worried you were running late and wouldn’t make it and I was gonna take it home to give you tomorrow or…”

You stopped, seeing a big grin gracing his pretty face.

“Shh, s’alright darlin’.” He chuckled, “take a breath.”

You blushed, how does he always make you so flustered? He must think you need coddling. Maybe that’s why he’s so sweet to you. He’s seen how utterly hopeless you are and he just feels the need to coddle you.

“Sorry.” You said quietly.

“Baby, look up here.” He commanded in a gentle but firm voice, snapping his fingers twice and you immediately met his gaze. “Atta girl.”

“Now listen to me.” He said softly. “Don’t you ever doubt that I will show up for you. Okay? I’m a man of my word, always.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your head practically empty as a dizzy feeling wracked your brain.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now. Tell me how you know what time I go to work.” He smirked.

“What?” You squeaked, not even realizing you’d said that aloud. “Oh my god I’m sorry, I just… just a lucky guess- I mean I see you leave pretty often around that time so I just assumed…”

“Pretty girl, you’ve been creepin’ on me haven’t you?” He teased, his smile only growing as he watched your face pale and reheat within seconds.

“No! No, god no Anakin!” You squealed grabbing both his hands. “Jesus, you must think I’m crazy. It’s- I sit next to my window to read around that time and I’ve just noticed you walk past.”

“Well I’ll make sure I start waving in your direction okay, princess?” He chirped, his face seemed to boast that he was absolutely giddy at this new information.

“I promise I haven’t been- god that sounded so weird I’m sorry.” You whispered, utterly embarrassed by your own admission. He’d never speak to you again.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He chuckled, squeezing both your hands. “I’m just teasing sweetheart. You know that don’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” You nodded, internally trying not to scream at yourself.

“Sorry.” You whispered, pulling your hands away because your palms started to feel clammy.

“Shh. Don’t worry about it.” He said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just thought it was cute that’s all.” He smiled.

“Cute?” You repeated, your face reddened to the point that you began to feel hives sneaking up your neck.

He shrugged in response, lifting both hands up as well. A little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned over the counter and snatched your order pad from your apron pocket.

“There’s a table in the corner that’s been glaring at you for the past minute and a half.” He tilted his head in their direction. “Go take a minute for yourself. I’ll get it.”

“Wait but you-“

“I’ll get it.” He interrupted.

“Anakin-“

“What did I just say?” He said sternly.

“You’ll get it.” You responded quietly, eyes wide at his response… and the swirling storm of heat that pooled in your lower stomach.

“Good girl. Go.” He gestured dismissing you with a wave of his hand before turning on his heel.

Diary Entry: July 12th

Oh my sweet, sweet little girl.

I just love you so much I want to scoop you up and tuck you in my pocket.

You’ve been watching me. You little sneak. I purposefully don’t look up at your window when I leave and come home from work. I know you’re sitting there, I just didn’t know you were aware of me walking past. I don’t like to look up there because, well, I’m me. I’d get distracted. Horribly distracted and terribly late to work.

That’s why my head is always down, eyes scorching holes into my phone screen as I watch you, watching me.

You are so much like me. So much.

You’re just perfect for me princess. I’ve never found someone or even dreamed of finding someone who could appreciate me like I would appreciate them. That must be why it took me so long to find you, good things come to those who wait.

Waiting for you has become one of my favorite things.

I waited and waited and waited. I researched, gathered and collected, stored, filed and tucked away every minuscule detail of your life I could get my hands on. All before I let myself step foot in your apartment.

Then I waited some more. Waited until I could move in next door. Waited until I could finally let you see me.

Now I needed to wait for tomorrow.

For you to get your little drink and watch me like I watched you at the diner. Then when you get home, you’ll crawl in bed. All snuggled up in your comfy new sheets.

And it’ll be your turn to wait.

Ps. Did you know that Amazon sells pill moulds? I forgot to mention it earlier. Your SleepyTime tea won’t be enough, for this visit. I’m really lucky they have one that looks almost identical to Tylenol. I’m also really lucky that you’re oblivious enough not to question how ‘your’ bottle of Tylenol got placed conveniently next to your birth control to encourage you to take it.

I’ll make the quick switch and I’ll change them back asap.

Don’t worry, I’m not mixing drugs that shouldn’t be mixed. It’s perfectly safe to take your SleepyTime Trazodone Tea and Estazolam. I would never put you in danger. I even accounted for the fact that you always take two.

It’s real handy that I’ll have a whole bottle of ‘Tylenol’ just in case I need to pull out this trick again.

Date: July 12th

The moment you got home you practically sprinted to the shower. Not because you felt icky from work. Not because it was hair wash day. Not because you just needed to get clean.

You needed a good cold shock to your system.

The icy water pelted you like hail. If it weren’t for the chattering of your teeth and the blood rushing to your ears you swear you’d be able to hear the water sizzle and evaporate against your scorching hot skin.

Anakin had ruined you. Absolutely ruined you.

You hardly know him. How can he make you feel like this and you’ve only spoken to him for maybe an hour in total. That’s insane. You’ve interacted with him for maybe an hour or two if you take into account the times you’ve passed each other in the hall and said hello.

It’s like he knows you down to your very soul.

He acts like he was put on earth to serve you; like it’s his only reason for existing. If you were told that every thing he does, he does for you… you’d believe it wholeheartedly.

He speaks to you like he needs you to hear every syllable and know deep in your heart that he is very fucking serious about everything he says. His voice is tailored to fit your needs perfectly. He can be soft spoken and comforting. Kind and understanding. He can be firm and unwavering, serious, stern.

His voice can also be deep, rough, gravely. It can grip your attention and hold you under his thumb in a way that no man has ever done before. It’s sinful really.

He touches you like you are a precious, fragile relic meant to be coveted and kept safe. Handles you like the finest silk, like he knows each and every thread you’re woven with. Those hands, they feel so familiar.

‘He’s loved me in a past life.’ You thought to yourself. ‘That’s the only explanation.’

How else could your body light up in recognition at the firm but gentle caress of his guitar-calloused fingertips along your arms?

He looks at you and sees you.

He sees what you’ve kept locked away from everyone, maybe even the things you yourself can’t see.

You let yourself ponder over the very real possibility that you’ve gone insane. This is crazy. You’re acting like you’ve lost your last marble and you can’t catch it before it rolls under the fridge to be lost forever.

What if it’s all in your head?

What if none of these feelings are reciprocated and you’ve imagined it all? Could you really be that daft?

You shook your head and turned the shower off, stepping out and wrapping yourself in a big fluffy robe. Letting yourself drip-dry in front of the mirror while you desperately try to warm yourself back up. All the while still being painfully aware of the ache between your legs that never fully goes away. Not since the first time you felt it in his presence.

It wanes when you’re away from him. It barely dwindles to a quiet lull when you try to fix it yourself. It’s become an itch that you simply cannot scratch. It’s an incessant nagging reminder that Anakin is slowly consuming you and that he’s completely unaware of it.

It’s gotten to the point that sometimes when you wake up in the morning, it feels like you’ve been toyed with. You’ll wake up with panties soaked with arousal, so much so that the fabric sticks to you. Your nipples feel sensitive and raw. You swear you can feel the ghost of warm hands much larger than your own exploring your flesh.

You’ve come to the conclusion that your body is begging for you to give it what it needs.

You’ve all but given up on masturbation. You’re certain that nothing, not even the most luxe toy on the market could give you what Anakin could.

His cock is the only thing that can sate that horrible tug of desperate hunger you feel in your core.

Until you can have him it seems that you’ll be going to bed hungry and waking up starving.

Diary Entry: July 13th

I should win an award. I have worked so fucking hard on self control and god damn you tested me last night.

I was gnawing off my own fingers trying to quiet myself enough to hear your soft desperate pleas for release. You poor thing, if it hurts me so badly to wait that long to cum… I can only imagine what it feels like for you.

Almost an hour of it.

I could hear it baby. How wet you were for me, the sound your delicate little fingers made when you slid them down beneath your panties and as deeply into your needy little hole as you could.

It just wasn’t deep enough was it, princess?

Twice tonight you’ve tried and failed to give yourself an ounce of relief. If anything you’ve made it worse.

I walked home from ‘work’ (aka the 7/11 because I needed a snack and for you to see me now that I knew you were watching) and listened to your first try, I promise I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy like that. That’s the whole reason there’s no visual to the camera installed in your room. Audio only.

Audio that I always make a point to survey, along with footage from the other cameras, on my way home from work. Gotta keep updated you know? See what I’ve missed.

Anyway, that time you gave up relatively quickly. Must’ve decided to wait for me to get back huh? I saw you. Sitting in the window, watching me watch you through the screen.

Funny that a few minutes after I’d locked my front door I got the notification that your bedroom door had been shut. And I suppose it could’ve been a coincidence that when I pulled up the live audio I just so happened to catch the rustling of your sheets and the soft sigh escaping your lips as you starting in on your second attempt to pleasure yourself.

Of course I couldn’t let you do it alone. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t join my little princess in the bedroom any chance I got?

The pitiful noises you made broke my heart.

You tried so hard didn’t you sweetheart? All that work and you didn’t even cum. It made me hurt for you. I felt ashamed that I finished and you didn’t.

I provided solid, albeit silent and unseen, support while you worked. I wanted nothing more than to burst through your door and help you. To let you take what you needed from me.

I could be your toy. I’d be still, I’d be good. I’d let you use me until you’ve gotten your fill.

You deserve it after all the selfish teasing.

I’m sorry that you’ve been left so needy.

I’m not sorry that I did it though. How could I be sorry for the way I can make you squirm even in your sleep?

Remember what I said about killing two birds with one stone? Well, let’s make that a quad-kill okay doll?

Date: July 13th

You were giddy with excitement, you woke up in the best mood. You flitted to the kitchen and made yourself a cup of coffee in your brand new favorite Hello Kitty mug, then plopped onto the couch to call Luke.

“What are you doing tonight?” You asked the second you heard the call connect.

“What I don’t even get a hello? A goodmorning?” He scoffed.

“Hello, Goodmorning. What are you doing tonight?” You asked, meaning to sound sarcastic but you were too blissfully happy to sell it.

“Probably me.” You heard a gruff, sleepy voice crackle from a distance on Luke’s end of the line. Han.

“Jesus what’s wrong with you?” Luke snapped in a hushed whisper.

“What?” Han asked as though he truly didn’t understand what Luke was referring to.

“Sorry. Anyway.” Luke cleared his throat and you swear you heard Han chuckled and the rustling of sheets along with a dull thud and groan coming from Han.

“Lukey don’t kick your boyfriend.” You sighed, “now both of you shut up.”

“I need you to come to the bar with me tonight. You know for moral support.” You said, a giggle slipping through. “Anakin came to the restaurant for pie yesterday and he wants me to come get a drink at The Cerulean tonight.”

“So, he asked you out?” Luke questioned skeptically.

“Well no,” you said slowly. “Not exactly. He’s gonna be working… he just wanted me to come say hello cause he came to the restaurant…” you trailed off.

“We saw each other at the laundromat yesterday.” You started to explain. “And we realized we never told each other where we worked, and then we both realized we’d actually been to each other’s work… he even served me a drink at the bar. I finally remembered where I knew his face from! I thought he looked familiar.” You said proudly.

“So, you saw him at the laundromat. Invited him to the Bluebird for pie, he’s returning the favor by asking you to come see him at the bar?” Luke repeated.

“Yep. So you’ll come with me?” You asked, a grin spreading across your lips.

“Fuckin’…” He groaned. “Of course I’m coming with you are you stupid? You think I’m letting you go to a bar alone?”

“Oh I just love you.” You cooed, so so relieved he’d agreed.

“You better.”

🖤🖤🖤

With your hair pulled back in a loosely curled bun, you slipped into a cute little lilac slip dress that fit you just right. Some heels to match hastily strapped on you timidly walked into your living room and did a little spin for your best friend and his pet leech Han.

“How’s this?” You asked, gesturing to your outfit Vanna White style.

“Perfect.” Luke said with a grin. “Hot.”

“Really?” You asked as a small shy smile crossed your mouth.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He asked seriously.

“No.” You giggled.

“You look gorgeous. Now take me to meet this little boy-toy of yours.” He said, standing up from the couch as Han dutifully follow behind.

“He’s not little. He’s actually pretty tall.” You said nonchalantly.

“Do you have to have an answer to everything?” He scoffed.

“For you? Yes.”

🖤🖤🖤

You walked up to the bar, Han and Luke trailing closely behind you. You didn’t see Anakin. When you turned around to pout to your friends you were surprised to see Anakin standing behind you with his hands in his barkeep’s apron.

Luke watched the exchange with narrowed eyes and his lips pulled up in a “hmm” position. Like he was scrutinizing every last movement and word said. Maybe he was wrong about this guy. Maybe you were right and he really was all you’d painted him to be.

“Boo.” He grinned.

“Ani!” You said excitedly clapping, not even realizing you’d dropped a nickname for him.

But he noticed. He noticed and it almost brought him to his knees. Though instead of passing out and throwing up like he felt that he was going to, his hand came up to your bicep to glide down the back of your arm and bring your hand to his lips. Brushing those plump pink lips across your knuckles, all while deeply, intensely, staring into your eyes.

“Hey princess.” He smiled, then broke eye contact to address your friends and leave you to buffer.

Your turn to faint.

“You guys with her?” He asked politely, giving them a once over know that he was in front of them, up close.

“Mhm.” Luke answered. A polite smile on his lips as he stuck out his hand. “Yeah I’m Luke, this is Han.” He nodded toward him and Anakin introduced himself in return, shaking their hands.

“Look, I told Trev I’d be taking a little break to hang out with you all for a bit.” Anakin said, pointing at his work friend. “He’s happy to oblige until he gets sick of handling it by himself.” He grinned.

Conversation flowed between the three of them easily and you thoroughly enjoyed watching it play out. No one you’d ever crushed on had ever won Luke over, but Anakin was definitely cracking the concrete wall Luke built in his head to protect you.

You didn’t even feel the need to speak, you were comfortable and content just to listen. Anakin made you feel included even if he wasn’t speaking directly to you. Every so often he would tap his sneaker against the side of your heel, he’d be talking in depth about something with Luke or Han but staring at you like you were the only person in the room.

You wished he would grab you and pull you closer. But he was too respectful, too… traditional? Was that the right word? What else would you call someone who you’ve come to believe is practically courting you.

That’s what this is. You know it. You’ve seen it, read it, consumed it in enough forms of media to know that he is testing the waters and waiting for you to accept his offer.

This is the modern version of a promenade about the park.

The sweet words. Gentle touches. Occasional obvious flirts. Cutesy nicknames. Only meeting you in public, allowing you to oblige it on your terms. Offering his help in anyway he could. Not asking you out on a date, a proper one. He hadn’t even given you his phone number.

It all translates.

Sweet nothings whispered in the parlor. Comments that would’ve had you hiding your blush with a silk fan. Princess, Baby, Sweetheart; Precious, My Love, My Sweet. He even called you darlin’.

Courting means publicly inviting you to take his hand. Respectfully requesting you to allow him to steal away a piece of your heart. The gentlemanly way.

Offering his help with the groceries, gifting you the book. You’d accepted both and you only had one more until you’d be giving him silent permission to ask you to be his.

Yet you hadn’t even realized it until right now. Wait… did carrying your laundry count? No. Surely not. No. The others were extremely memorable. The third would be even more so, you were sure of it.

“Sweet girl.” Anakin cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ve gotta go back behind the counter. What do you want to drink? On me, alright baby?”

“Oh,” you stuck out your bottom lip slightly and quirked up the corner of your mouth in thought, “Um just surprise me.” You smiled.

“Sure thing.” He grinned, a gentle thumb graced your cheekbone before he turned on his heel and headed back where he was needed.

“I’m so sorry for doubting you.” Luke said in a low and serious tone. “Like truly I’m baffled.”

“I know.” You agreed, wide eyed at Luke’s approval.

“The woman was too stunned to speak.” Han said, trying not to smirk.

“Do not quote memes to me right now.” You giggled.

You heard the double snap of Anakin’s fingers and spun around like the obedient little thing you were. Happily taking the two small steps to lean on the bar and accept your drink from Anakin.

“Margarita?” He asked, sliding it toward you.

“Yummy.” You nodded, “thank you.” You blushed.

“Oh, ‘course.” He grinned. “Anytime doll.”

“Beer for the boys.” He said, nodding at them behind you and producing two tall foamy mugs.

“Oh thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” Han said, taking a swig.

“No big deal.” Anakin shrugged, turning back to you. “Go have fun. Find me before you leave alright?”

“Uh huh.” You giggled, “I will.”

“I know.” He patted the counter near your hand and winked before turning to take someone else’s order.

“Oh you’ve got it bad.” Han let out a rumbling laugh.

“Uh huh.” You agreed enthusiastically, knowing it was true and not caring enough to pretend it wasn’t obvious.

The rest of the night was more of the same, your friends teasing you. Stealing a glance toward the bar to see that Anakin was already staring at you with the intensity of a burning star.

“You ready to go home?” Luke asked Han.

“Mmm.” He grunted in agreement and looked at Luke expectantly.

“Go on.” Luke shooed you toward the bar to tell Anakin you were leaving. They walked toward the door to wait for you, giving you just a hair of privacy.

As you walked up to the bar, Anakin was speaking to a girl who was very obliviously trying to flirt with him.

“What’ll you have?” He asked flatly.

“What’s your favorite?” She smiled, leaning on the counter and pushing her tits together.

“If you want a recommendation go to Jess.” He pointed to another coworker who was currently mixing a drink. “She’ll help.”

“What? You think I can’t handle whatever whiskey it is that you like best?” She giggled, clearly unfazed by his lack of interest.

It made your heart swell, he was acting this way and he didn’t even realize you were within earshot. He was so busy wiping down the counter to avoid eye contact with this girl, he hadn’t looked up once.

“I don’t drink.” He said.

“A bartender who doesn’t drink?” She laughed and it sounded like a fucking cackle, you saw Anakin suck in his cheeks and turn his head to tuck his chin into the shoulder farther from her to ensure he wouldn’t burst into laughter at her.

He cleared his throat and finally looked up. The eyes you know as warm and comforting looked cast from frozen steel.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” Anakin’s voice was cold in a way that you’d never heard before and it scared you… but also kind of excited you? Like the cold wave you’d felt from his gaze once before it was gone in an instant.

Once again he’d surprised you. Just like every other time you’d been in his company. The girl scoffed and muttered something under her breath but Anakin had already left the one sided conversation and his face softened, the blue of his eyes being swallowed by the pools of black that spilled over every time he looked at you.

“There’s my princess.” He cooed. Proving without you even asking, that he had eyes only for you.

“I came to say I’m headed home.” You smiled bashfully, your hands clasped together in front of you as you rocked from your toes to your heels.

“Your body guards are walking with you right?” He asked, concern creeping in to his gentle voice.

“Of course.” You nodded, it was so sweet that he worried about you like this.

“Good.” He smiled, holding out his hand and using two fingers to beckon you closer.

You stepped forward and gave him what he wanted, your hand to squeeze gently.

“Be safe okay? I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes you’ll see me soon.”

“Thats my girl.” He flashed a bright smile, taking your one hand in both of his and kissing your knuckles. Rubbing his across your skin his thumbs creating a heart on the back of your hand when he pulled away.

“Bye Ani.” You said, making a quick escape with one last look over your shoulder before running to Luke and Han.

🖤🖤🖤

After they returned you safely to your home you went about your nightly routine. Boil water, make tea, take birth control, and oh look at that you even had the forethought to set Tylenol out as well. Pop two of those and then shower quickly, settle in for bed and before you know it, you’re so asleep that you can’t hear your front door unlock.

Anakin intently listened to the audio of your bedroom intently on his way home. From the way you were snoring Anakin knew you were deep, deep, deep in sleep. Even so, he needed to be careful, so after he showered at his apartment he crept silently into yours with a small bag in tow.

He tested your level of unconsciousness via sound before even attempting to enter your room. Just like every other time he’d snuck in. No response.

So he opened your bedroom door and gently shooed the cat out of the room. She was very unhappy about this considering Anakin usually let her snuggle in his lap when he came to watch you sleep. But he wasn’t here to watch or to get a quick fix, not even for a little bit of teasing.

He was here to play.

Armed with the necessary tools he laid them neatly on the foot of the bed after slipping on his Ghostface mask. Cliché sure, but he knew your little secret. If you happened to wake up, which was highly unlikely, he’d be anonymous and you’d think it was another wet dream.

He pushed up the sleeves of his solid black hoodie, carefully took off his sneakers, followed by his leather gloves. He hated having to take the extra measure to hide his identity just in case but it’s his own fault for having so many tattoos.

Once finished he picked up your wrist and dropped it, watching it fall clumsily at your side. Perfect. Now he could get to the fun stuff.

He peeled back the covers and took a moment to soak in your image, you were spoon feeding him pure beauty and didn’t even know it.

He’d done this before. He couldn’t help but sneak the occasional picture, but he’d never taken a picture of you completely bare before.

Tenderly he pushed your thin nightie up and over your soft breasts, taking his sweet time to caress and care for you like always, but this time he let himself touch your chest sans fabric barrier. It was something so unforgettable, seeing the peaks of your breasts rise and pebble up under his thumb. Even more so the soft sleepy sigh you let out when he lifted his mask to suck and twirl his tongue around them. Tugging lightly before letting it fall back into place so he could watch them jiggle.

His hands traveled to your hips and slid your panties down partially. He posed you, one hand on your breast, the other he placed between your legs under your panties. He stood over you and took several pictures from different angles.

Deciding his jeans were much to restricting and horribly tight across his swelling cock, he got rid of them.

Once he was more comfortable he slid your panties farther down and placed them aside. He kneeled, getting eye level with your cunt.

The most sacred part of you. Where he so badly wanted to bury his cock, but he refrained. That could wait until you were conscious and willing.

“Look at you.” He groaned, biting his lip before getting back to the task at hand.

For now, he would slide your own fingers past your slick folds, into your greedy pussy. Holding your wrist in place so that your limp hand wouldn’t fall away. He even let you have a little taste of yourself, of course capturing that on film as well.

Now that he had some gorgeous new material for the visual to go along with the pretty little noises you make when you think no one is listening… he had some new ideas to try out.

Ideas like tilting your head to the side and slipping just the head of his precum coated dick past your plump lips. His hand trembled as he clicked record, the bright white light of the flash illuminating your face. You didn’t even flinch. Your eyelids didn’t twitch, your mouth didn’t move.

The longer he rubbed his cockhead over your tongue and traced your lips till they were shiny with precum and saliva, the more confident he grew.

“Tastes good doesn’t sweetheart? Shame you can’t lick those pretty lips isn’t it?” He snickered, tapping your cheek with his cockhead to leave a sticky trail behind.

He wasn’t worried in the slightest that you’d wake up now, so he allowed himself to go just a bit further.

Pinching the tip of your tongue and opening your jaw alittle wider, he removed his cock completely. Making sure to get a good shot of untouched throat, he’d need a before picture to refer to later.

He slowly pushed back in, stopping when he hit the back of your throat. The only bad thing about you being unconscious was that you couldn’t tell him if his fat cock was choking you. So he’d have to settle for his hand covering what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

He sat his phone aside, he needed both hands for this. If he wanted to feel you moan around his cock, he’d have to give you something to moan about.

Hiking up one leg of yours and letting it fall to your side, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you were letting him treat you like a noodle. You were practically boneless… it crossed his mind to put you in the Piledriver, see how far he could fold you, but once again: you’re unconscious and you can’t tell him if you’re uncomfortable.

He had morals, lines he wouldn’t cross, rules he wouldn’t erase… maybe bend them, but not wholly change them either.

So he settled for rubbing circles around your puffy clit, already wet and needy little pussy. His hand on the back of your head to keep you still, he couldn’t have your poor brain rattling around your skull while he fucked your mouth. He loved you too much to give you whiplash via mouthful of dick.

“Oh you like that don’t you baby? Yeah you do, I can feel it.” He moaned, letting himself get lost in listening to the combined sounds of his cock in your mouth and his fingers toying with your wetness.

He slid his fingers down your slit and back up again; that’s when you made a bit of noise for him and holy shit.

His hand left your cunt immediately to keep your jaw pried open and held still while his other pumped his shaft wildly. He’d been at this more maybe two minutes tops and the vibration from that one gorgeous moan was enough to draw up his balls and scrunch his face.

He whimpered, removing his hand from your jaw, he let go of his cock and almost cried from how painfully close to cumming he was. But he couldn’t not get the first time he came in your mouth on camera. So he grabbed you by your hair and propped up your head to keep your mouth open. Straddling your chest he kneeled over you and watched through his phone screen as rope after rope of white, hot, love coated your tongue and throat.

He could’ve shed a tear at how outrageously beautiful you looked, how messy your mouth was, the drip of his semen down the back of your throat.

Anakin quickly switched over to taking photos again, he desperately needed a clear picture of your cum coated throat and god did he get the perfect image. He’d make it his screensaver if he could.

Once again tossing his phone aside he leaned over you, spitting a glob of saliva to help wash his essence down when he squeezed beneath your jaw to make you swallow.

“Perfect. Good job baby.” He whispered. “Took it like a champ.”

He squeezed both cheeks in one hand to squish your lips together. Smiling at the way you looked. Eyelids half raised from all the movement, face flushed, swollen lips.

“S’fucking cute.” He laughed, smacking your cheek twice, gently of course. Just a little love tap.

He extricated himself from you and shuffled back down to the end of the bed, between your legs where he belonged. Spreading your legs nice and wide, he took a second to just enjoy the view.

“Pretty little thing aren’t you?” He splayed his two large hands across your stomach and slowly snaked it down your abdomen, across your mound, trailing to your inner thighs to finally hook beneath your knees and lift your legs.

He needed you in the butterfly position if he were to properly pleasure you this time around. He wouldn’t tease you tonight and make you writhe and moan and hump his hand but never cum.

He’d turned you into a needy whore just like he wanted to, but you deserved a reward, he reminded himself. Because it was oh so tempting to continue that little game he loved.

“What do you think doll? Dildo or vibrator?” He asked, laying the toys one after the other between your legs to snap at photo of.

“Ah who am I kidding, you want the vibrator don’t you?” He asked rhetorically. “Here princess, get it wet for me.”

He brought the toy to your lips and rubbed it across your tongue, grinning when he pulled it away and saw the shiny string of saliva connecting to your tongue.

“Sorry you can’t have my cock sweetheart.” He said, sounding a bit mournful as he dragged the tip of the vibrator down your throat and through the midline of your body, stopping just above your clit.

“I’d love to fuck you but… I can’t do that to you.” He sighed. “You’ll just have to wait. It’ll make it more special huh?” He smiled, turning the toy onto the lowest setting.

He teased your entrance with the very tip, barely ghosting it around and around. When he finally saw your hole clench around nothing he sucked in a sharp breath and chuckled, he couldn’t help it, it was comical how badly you needed him.

Slowly, frustratingly slowly he inserted the tip and twisted. Gently thrusting it deeper and deeper until it was fully seated in your cunt. He left it there to watch for a moment, untouched and unmoved, you dripped arousal down onto the sheets below you. A beautiful little pool of sex he’d get to take home as a trophy.

“More?” He asked softly. “I think you need more don’t you sweetheart?”

He switched the setting higher, about halfway to full power and sat back on his heels watching your hips buck and your stomach tighten. A beautiful strangled moan left your swollen lips and Anakin couldn’t help himself.

“Gotta kiss that sweet mouth baby, lemme see that tongue.” He groaned, sliding the mask up just enough to suction his lips to yours to suck and pull and lick to his heart’s content.

“Fuck your mouth… tastes so good.” He whined, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling, watching it snap back into place with a wet pop.

Just as he was about to go in for another kiss he heard you take a deep inhale. He pulled the mask back into place and backed away, watching you closely for any sign that you were being roused awake.

“Don’t fucking scare me like that.” He mumbled, turning up the vibrator again.

“If you wanna cum so bad then ask for it.” He grinned.

He thrust the toy back and forth in time with his hand on his cock, loving the way your body tried to so hard to wake up your mind so you could enjoy it fully.

“Poor thing. Squirming for me.” He panted, scooting closer and seating the vibrator back into your cunt fully. “I’ll let you cum this time okay? You need it don’t you sweet girl?”

Anakin brushed his thumb across your clit quickly and beamed at the way your idle hands tried to grip the sheets beneath you.

“So close baby girl, so fucking close.” He whispered, flicking your clit just to see you jump.

He snickered and settled his thumb solidly against your puffy red button and rubbed firmly. Jacking his cock in time with his ministrations on you.

“Gonna cum…” he whined, noting the way your legs were lifting slightly from the bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, c’mon baby, fuck.” He grunted, fucking up into his fist as he tilted his head back. Spilling his cum onto the quivering canvas of your spent folds.

He slowly milked the rest of his seed out onto you and pulled the vibrator from your depths, scooping up his cum and shoving it into your greedy hole to massage into your gummy walls where it belongs.

He stroked your front wall carefully, pressing up against the sweet spongy spot that made your toes curl. The second he pressed the vibrator down on your clit your cunt spasmed around his fingers and he got to see you come undone for the first time.

“Oh shit.” He breathed out, his voice shaky as he watched that puddle beneath you become a lake as your squirt dripped over his hand and onto the fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He moaned, shoving his hand beneath his mask to slurp your juices from every centimeter of his skin.

He was too busy loosing himself in the taste of you to notice you finally fluttering your eyes open just slightly, moaning in overstimulation from the toy he’d left buzzing between your pussy lips.

“Goddamnit.” He swore, shoving his still hard cock back into his boxers and switching off the toy.

He waited, waited a painfully long time to make sure you were still stuck in dreamland before moving again. It was time to high-tail it out of there.

He clumsily shoved his things into his bag and tugged on his pants and belt. Cursing himself for getting carried away like that, for not paying attention, for almost waking you up.

Slipping into his sneakers and tugging his sleeves back down he fumbled in his pockets to find his gloves and hastily shoved his hands in them.

He stood at the foot of the bed and stared at the mess he’d helped you make on your sheets. Great. Now he really couldn’t just leave his own set of sheets beneath your mattress to change later when you were gone.

He had to do it now.

He pulled your comforter fully off the bed, your extra pillows and stuffed animals as well. The top sheet was used to quickly and carefully wipe the mess off your skin before he folded it and shoved it down into the bag.

Thinking ahead he laid the clean top sheet over the comforter so he could put both on at the same time, save a few seconds. Now came the hard part.

He popped up one corner of the fitted sheet and replaced it with the new one, doing the same to two of the other sides. He kneeled on the bed with his feet hanging off the side, careful not to get his sneakers on the clean sheets.

He gingerly laid your arms at your sides and oh so slowly rolled you over until you were flat on your back again.

Anakin held his breath and tried his very best not to laugh because of the fact that he had quite literally rolled you like a log and you didn’t even budge. He walked around to the other side and finished taking off the sheet and fitting the new one over the last edge.

After the sheet was folded and carefully tucked into his bag he tossed it over his shoulder and went to your bedroom door to allow your cat back into the room with you, she’d always snuggle under the covers beside you and you’d be awfully confused if you woke up and realized she had somehow gotten out of your room without the help of opposable thumbs.

Anakin surveyed the room and smacked himself internally. He almost left you panty-less.

“Idiot. All tore up from one little thing.” He scoffed. “Can’t believe I almost-“

He shook his head and told himself to shut his mouth, he could shit talk himself later. Right now he needed to carefully slide your panties back into place and cover you back up, maybe give you alittle goodnight kiss too.

Finally everything was in place as it should be, he marked everything off in his internal to-do list and checked his watch. He’d kept it under two hours just like planned, everything was fine, so fine in fact that he didn’t bother to be careful with his foot-falls.

The high-pitched shriek of pain Boogie let out when he put his full weight onto the tip of her tail was more than enough to wake the dead. Anakin froze, smacking the button on the side of his neck, attached to the box that would alter his voice in case he needed to speak.

“Boogs?” You sat up slowly, your body not in tune with your mind in any capacity. Funny how he could fuck you with a vibrator but an ear piercing cat wail could wake you up. Weird.

You didn’t even have your eyes open, poor thing. Anakin laughed before he realized he was making any noise at all.

If your eyes were sewn shut with sleep before they were stretched wide with terror now. You scanned the room and were horrified to see a tall, imposing figure in a… Ghostface mask?

Hot. Wait- no. You shook your head and flipped on your bedside lamp.

“Don’t fucking move.” He growled, producing a butterfly knife from his pocket and spinning it to flip it open.

You squealed but complied and shrunk back. There wasn’t much you could do anyway, you could barely hold your eyes open and your head up.

“Good.” He nodded, walking up to you basking in the knowledge that you’d be obedient in this type of situation.

“What’d you want?” You asked quietly.

“Just came to say hello to a pretty little thing that’s all.” He cooed and sat down on the side of the bed.

You whimpered and moved sluggishly away, finding it difficult to support your weight with your arms.

“Hold real still.” He soothed and for some reason you did.

You didn’t flinch or fight him when he used the tip of the knife to push your hair away from your eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” He stated calmly. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his filtered voice as he slashed the flat side of the knife in an X across the center of chest. In one fluid motion that was much more attractive than you’d ever willingly admit, he flipped out one of the dual knife handles and somehow swung it closed in the open palm of his hand by twitching his wrist quickly.

He showed you that he was putting it into the locked position, pushing the small rod at the bottom of one of the handles with his thumb until it clicked.

“You’re safe I promise.” He said. “I’ll let you hold it if you want.” He offered it in his open, flat palm but you denied it, shaking your head and quickly realizing that made you very dizzy.

“Brave one, huh?” He chuckled, pocketing the knife again.

He saw your eyes flit toward your phone and tsk’d audibly.

“Hey, I said I’m not gonna hurt you.” He reassured you. “Don’t try it okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, bottom lip trembling.

“Like I said. I just wanted to say hello.” He shrugged. “And maybe remind you that you should remember to lock your windows.” He hated to lie, but he couldn’t say he just unlocked your front door could he?

At that moment your cat jumped up and settled in his lap. He carefully inspected her tail and gave her gentle chin scratches.

“Sorry bud. Didn’t mean to step on you.” He whispered.

“What the fuck.” You whispered, unbelievable. What the hell was happening?

“Hmm? Oh yeah, we’re good friends aren’t we?” He said, patting her head. “Now, go to your mommy m’kay?” He scooped her up and put her in your arms.

“She’s had a bit of a fright.” He told your cat. “Best to keep her company.”

“Now. I’m gonna leave okay?” He said, standing up slowy, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “Count to 100.”

“What?”

“Count to 100 before you get up or try to call anyone. Got it?” He said, his tone even through the filter suggested that you should’ve just known what he meant.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your eyes feeling heavy and droopy again.

“Good.” He had to try extremely hard not to use pet names with you. He was certain you’d be suspicious immediately if he did.

“I’m going to leave through your front door, after I lock your window for you. Understand?” He said while slowly backing out of your room.

You blinked, mouth agape, still so very confused. What is this? Is this some strange and vivid dream? Maybe you should ask?

“Am I- this a dream?” You questioned, feeling stupid as soon as it left your lips.

He tilted his head and clasped his hands in front him, leaning his back against your bedroom door frame.

“Do you want it to be?” He asked in a teasing way that sounded too familiar for your comfort.

“What?” Your voice shook, you were suddenly aware of how pathetically helpless you were.

A stranger with a knife is in your bedroom and you’re just speaking to him like this is the fucking checkout line at Kroger.

He chuckled, scratching the side of his mask as if it were his cheek. “Pink book. Right bottom corner under the mattress.” Anakin nodded toward your bed.

“You- wait.” You felt sick, your diary? He was talking about your diary? How long was he in here?

“Mhm.” He nodded.

He waited for you to speak again, relaxing again the the doorframe. He let his head tilt back and knock against the wood while he crossed his legs at the ankle and unclasped his hands. Cracking his knuckles with his fingers laced together.

“Well?” He asked, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

“Well what?”

“Do you want it to be a dream?” He repeated firmly, leaning forward just a bit.

Why did you want to say yes?

“I’m not hearing a no.” He raised a hand in the form of a question from where it was tucked underneath his arm.

“No.” You shook your head, watching the room spin. “D-did you drug me?” You whispered rubbing your eyes as dancing lights flashed across your eyelids.

“Yep.” He answered nonchalantly. “Don’t worry you’ll be fine.”

“Huh.” You breathed out. If this was real life and a stranger broke into your house and somehow drugged you… why wasn’t he trying to hurt you?

It must be a dream. Sure. Yes. A dream.

“What’ll it be?” He asked “should I stay? Or should I go?”

“What do you want to do?” You wondered aloud and immediately regretted not thinking before you spoke.

“Oh you don’t wanna know.” He snickered.

“Then why’re you here?”

“You’re peaceful when you sleep.” He said casually. “I like to watch you.”

“You what?” You squeaked. “You’ve been here before?”

“How about this.” He proposed, walking back to your bed and fishing your diary out from under the mattress. “You have questions for me, I’ll answer them. Write ‘em down.”

He tossed it on the edge of the bed and reached out to you. “C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Just do it okay?” He sighed and watched you scoot closer.

He gingerly reached out as if you might bite him, you probably should. But for whatever reason you didn’t want to. He kind of felt… familiar. He didn’t scream ‘psycho killer’ instead he radiated comfort.

His leathered fingers scratched the top of your head in soothing circles. Why were you allowing this? Why were you not terrified?

“Go back to sleep.” He said softly. “I’m leaving now.”

“Why?”

“Do you want me to stay?” He laughed.

“What? N-no?” You shook your head, denying it vehemently. “Of course not.”

“Sure.” He teased. “G’night.” He straightened up and patted your head.

You watched him leave, heard him walk through your living room and kitchen and leave your apartment.

You didn’t move. You didn’t jump up and run. You didn’t grab your phone and call the cops or Luke or anyone else.

You didn’t feel scared, you thought maybe your strange acceptance of the situation was a survival instinct that would go away when the threat did. But you weren’t scared. If anything… you felt alittle lonely now that he was gone.

Part Seven

This is a butterfly knife for those of you who are unaware lol

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