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yanderenightmare · 7 months

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Bakugou Katsuki

TW: NSFW, yandere

gn reader

You’re attracted to Bakugou for many reasons – he’s tall and ripped and handsome and a bit of an asshole – but really, what you like about him most is that he doesn't seem like he’d be too much trouble. And you mean that in many ways.

You’ve been in relationships before, and none of them have ended on good terms – always leading to deep upsets and disappointments. You’d come to the realization that boys, on any level that wasn’t purely sexual, were something you didn’t really need or want at the moment – which is why Bakugou, in all his disinterested glory, was just perfect for you.

He’d fold you in half in filthy places like the locker room or bathroom or in his smoke-steeped car – making your heart beat from the thrill without that nagging feeling of being underappreciated because, well, you didn’t really care. He wasn’t your boyfriend and you weren’t committed to each other in any serious way, so there really weren’t any grounds for standards or expectations – it was just sex – carnal ball-clapping sweaty sex – pure and simple and just what you needed. No more, no less.

You didn’t go on dates or meet each other's parents or give each other chocolate on Valentine's Day or any other presents on any other holiday – you didn’t even hang out aside from seeing each other at parties and sometimes in the school hallways. He’d cock his head with a grin, and you’d smile coyly up through your lashes, and you’d meet in the handicapped bathrooms between classes to get drilled over the sink with your face smudged against the cool mirror.

It's only when he starts knowing things about you that you grow a little stiff with your arrangement - things he couldn’t possibly know from you as you’d never cared to speak about your private life. And sure, some of those things he could have easily found out through your social media standing – which already makes you feel a little iffy – but there are other things he’ll slip out, specifics about your interests and classes and whereabouts and the stuff you do with your friends – stuff you’re positive you’ve not posted anywhere.

When you asked him about it, halfway jokingly with a somewhat nervous laugh, he’d only quirked a brow and brushed it off, insisting you’d been the one that told him. And you, despite being sure he’s lying, decide to believe it anyway. Because what the two of you have right now is still good – much better than any other fuck-friend you’d had before. Katsuki makes you so wet, and he's always so able to just pound your orgasm right out of you.

If payment is small talk, you can humor him.

But then the sex becomes a little dull. Instead of his fist wrapping tight around your throat, he’s now sucking gentle love bites into the skin. And he no longer has his hand in your hair, forcing your face down against a cold surface with nails digging into your scalp to keep you still while fucking you fast and selfishly from behind.

Both his hands are instead holding you around the waist, keeping your body skin-to-skin against his chest as he gently lolls you on his lap – so slow you can’t even feel your heart – so slow you’re still breathing through your nose. He hasn’t slapped your ass once, and it’s beginning to get a little sad.

You want to tell him that you want him to fuck you like he’s a dirty cop and you’re a criminal resisting arrest – and not this old married couple shit. But you also don’t want to be rude.

However, after all the one-sided heart-to-hearts he’d sat you through lately – spending more time chatting than making you cum – you were left feeling a little awkward, honestly. And between that and how he’d started texting you goodnights at eight-thirty – you were afraid he’d lost his original raw sex appeal.

He’s become so pedestrian in your eyes he might as well have been wearing glasses and a sweater vest.

You let him finish without saying anything – but you can't deny you’re happy when you feel him finally blow his load.

Dismounting him, you jump to your seat in the car and pull your underwear back up without a word.

It’s silent while he lights a smoke and rolls down his window – his hand coming to rest on your thigh after.

You look out your own window, your face in your palm while you think. And then talk. “I think… we need to stop.”

He's a little busy with his cigarette, but still, he answers, casually. “Stop what?” Smoke goes out his mouth and up his nostrils, then out again.

“This.” You answer. “Fucking.”

The hand on your thigh stirs and you catch him shifting his head to look at you, but you don’t return the gesture – keeping your eyes fixed on the puddle peppering with raindrops out on the empty parking lot the two of you’ve often spent time burning rubber drifting donuts before making the windows steamy.

“Why?” He eventually says. Flicking the spent filter out onto the wet pavement. Rolling the window back up and leaving the both of you in a way too tense silence of muted rain.

You sigh, leaning back against the headrest. “We’re not strangers anymore... It’s just getting a little boring.”

He taps another cigarette up from his box but doesn’t light it – just rolls it around in his fingers with his head bowed. “Boring, huh?” He repeats. And then there’s a pause.

A hefty pause. A silent one that lasts a little too long and makes you forget the subject in favor of thinking about other things – like, had your roommate done the dishes this time, or were they still on the counter?

“What if I lock the car and drive us off a cliff?” He breaks through your thoughts, and this time, it’s you who turns your head. Looking at him while he still fingers the same slim roll in his hands – mumbling to it, it would seem. “I’ll laugh, you’ll scream… and maybe I’ll light this cig’ while we’re in the air…”

He sighs – as though what he’d just said was not what he’d said – then copies your action, letting his head fall back to rest against the leather – his face blank and his breath steady.

“If you fuck someone else, I’ll break their face.”

This time you blink when staring at him – face riddled, doubting what you were hearing come out of his mouth. “You what?”

“If- you fuck- someone else…” He repeats slowly. “I- will break- their face.” He says it so calmly you’re still unsure whether you heard him right. “Understand?” He asks – chin cocked up while glancing at you from the corner of his red eyes. “I won't stop punching until their teeth are on the ground and their eyes are so bloated and bloody they can no longer see who it is that’s throwing the hits.”

You blink a few more times. Stunned into a stupor, picturing it with parted lips without any words escaping them.

He rolls down the window again and puts the smoke between his lips.

And while he lights it and blows the roof full of grey, you’re still hung up on the image…

Maybe Bakugou wasn’t as boring as you thought.

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princessbrunette · 2 months

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frat!gooner!rafe is weird and icky.

occasionally he’ll follow you into the bathroom at his place, crowding you from behind with his hands on your hips so you don’t shut the door in his face as he eases you into the room to do your business. you’re used to him, unbothered as ever as you innocently pull your panties down and pee in the toilet, the watchful boy stood before you with a wide stance in grey sweats and parted lips, staring at the little pudge of pubic meat that peeks from between your legs.

the sound of your tinkle fills the room as you swing your legs, looking up at him curiously. “cute… can hear how tight you are just from the sound…” he has no shame in the way he says it, looking down right at you as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. for something said in such a flirtatious way he sure was off putting at times. “you ever like… pee’d… pee’d on a dick while its fuckin’ you?” his voice is rasped, drawled, like he’s already horny at just the mere thought. you shake your head.

“only ever had sex with you, remember?” you blink dolly eyelashes up at him and he nods, fixing the backwards hat on his head.

“oh shit, yeah. aha…”

only later on he’s following you back into the bathroom to see what else you’ll get up to. it’s later in the evening, and you’ve headed to brush your teeth. when you’re minding your business, the tall fratboy looms over you and takes the toothbrush from your mouth, taking over for you.

he grasps your chin with his fingers, seemingly concentrated as he works the bristles over your teeth. it’s seemingly innocent at first and you even giggle, in which he responds with a distracted ‘hm’ with a smile. but rafe being rafe, he gets carried away fast— making sure to really scrub at your tongue until you’re grasping at his wrist with wide slightly panicked doe eyes and a furrowed brow, toothpaste frothing and drooling out your mouth at the corners as you gag on the plastic device.

“yeah… fuckin’ sexy even like that.” he mutters to himself, before he’s had enough of it and lets go, leaving you coughing and wiping your mouth, departing with a slap on your ass. “hurry up n’ come to bed already.”

he’s also the type to randomly start jerking off whilst the two of you are watching tv. it’s nothing special, you’re rewatching gossip girl and when rafe gets disinterested — he puts his hands down his basketball shorts, thumbing at his cock until it’s hard. he leans his head back, staring at the ceiling in a daze as he does so, and you only notice he’s doing it when he pulls it out, jerking it at its full stiffness.

“rafe!” you widen your eyes, startled. he licks his lips, completely unfazed by your reaction.

“what?” he has the audacity to sound mildly irritated by your surprise. “s’a very normal thing, alright?”

“you just caught me off guard.” you pout, head tilting in curiosity as you watch the way he works his fist over himself, unable to help yourself from mentally taking notes. he looks at you, chest rising and falling with slow deep breaths as he touches himself, and after a few seconds he speaks.

“well are you going to keep staring or do you wanna help me out here? this dick won’t suck itself, fucking unfortunately.”

you shuffle closer, huffing out your nose with a frown. “you know i’ll always help.” you argue at the insinuation and he presses his lips together in a smile, both arms now resting along the back of the couch as you lower yourself between his legs.

“thats why i like you sweetheart. me n’you are just the same, isn’t that right?”

#rafe cameron prompt #fratboy!rafe #frat!rafe #gooner!rafe #tw piss

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lucilleslore · 6 months

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➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who comes back to the capitol a bit meaner and colder than when he left. who greets you off the train with a rough kiss to your lips, a possessive hand splayed over your lower back but with eyes empty of emotion.

➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who starts to zone out when you’re speaking to him, who doesn’t come to bed at night. who drags his eyes hungrily over your skin one minute but completely ignores you the next.

➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who starts to see you as his property - his pretty little doll. he sees you as a way to boost his image, better his reputation. he’s got a doting, pretty little wife at home, he can’t be that bad?? so he drags you out, picks out your dresses himself, introduces you to all the right people and watches with a smirk as you manage to win them all over with your charm. no doubt they come to like you better than him but he finds he doesn’t care all that much, especially when you’re so under his thumb.

➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who always rewards you for your efforts when you get home. who lets you grind your messy little cunt down on his cock until you can’t speak. he watches you a while, engrossed in the way you suck him in but when he’s approaching orgasm he leans back, shuts his eyes. he finally, finally lets the quiet take over. shuts his mind off and focuses on you and the pleasure, just for a few minutes at least.

➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who’s sleep schedule is terrible. who stays up all night plotting and working and you, who wake up intermittently feeling empty and needy. you pad into his office, just his shirt and some socks on and he immediately knows what you want. glances at you for a second then turns his attention back to what he’s doing. then he’s patting his thigh if you’ve been good and you know the drill. soon enough you’re sinking down on him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your whines. ‘don’t move, be a good girl for me and just sit still,’ coryo would always warn. ‘can you do that?’

➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who suddenly has no time for your capitol snobbishness and attitude. who cuts you off when you’re ranting about something unimportant and silly. who tells you to grow up if you don’t like what the cook made for dinner, if you’re complaining about how the lawn was cut, how you don’t like the flowers. but postpeacekeeper!coryo does care about your gossip. he has this unending need to know everyone’s secrets and so when you start telling him the latest scandal or one of your girlfriends latest dirty laundry he gives you his undivided attention. lets you sit on his lap whilst he listens, traces patterns into your bare thigh.

➸ postpeacekeeper!coryo who gives you a messy kiss when you give him something really useful. who grabs your cheeks and tells you how brilliant you are. he’ll push you down on his desk, hike your skirt up and give you your favourite reward. he can’t deny that the eager sounds you make as he kisses at your swollen little clit are music to his ears.

➸ but postpeacekeeper!coryo really can’t stand it when your bratty. he’s not much of a punisher - in his opinion - he just bends you over the nearest surface and uses you. occasionally bites the skin at your shoulders, tells you what a messy slut you really are, just there for him to take his own pleasure and that’s what he does. he fucks you until you can barely stand, until your wetness and his cum are dripping down your thighs and then he leaves you there. doesn’t let you cum, pulls out if you even make a sound and waits until you’ve incoherently rambled out an apology to push back in. it’s barely even punishment in his eyes.

➸ so all in all postpeacekeeper!coryo is hot and cold. all in obsessed with you for a while, disinterested for a few weeks after, then the cycle repeats but he does keep you satisfied. even if you are just his pretty toy, another piece on his chessboard to win the capitol <3

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #- !concepts!

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munson-blurbs · 5 months

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Eddie Munson x Shy!Reader

Summary: Max and Lucas are tired of their friends silently pining over each other but never making a move, so when the Winter Formal rolls around, they take matters into their own hands.

Warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluffy fluff

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Happy anniversary to the love of my life, @corroded-hellfire 💚 one year ago today, we met in person for the first time, and my life has been infinitely better ever since. Thank you for being my best friend. I love you more than Dustin loves his Weird Al shirt. Red, this fic is for you.

Divider credit to @saradika

“Kill me now.”

Three words uttered by none other than Max Mayfield, sliding her lunch tray onto the table and sitting down with an irritated sigh.

You look at her with an amused grin. “What is it this time? Bombed a pop quiz? Got detention for flipping off a teacher—again?” Her brazen, flippant attitude provided many entertaining moments, so long as you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

Max shakes her head, spearing a limp macaroni noodle with her plastic fork. “I wish.” She holds up two tickets to the Winter Formal. “Lucas is dragging me to this bullshit. ‘All the other basketball guys’ girlfriends are going,’” she mocks him in an octave much lower than his actual voice, “so I guess that means I have to follow suit.”

Bringing a hand to your heart, you jut out your lower lip in mock-pity. “Oh, no; your boyfriend wants to show you off at a school dance! How will you ever survive?”

Max doesn’t miss a beat. “You could go, too,” she says, blue eyes pleading. “Keep me company when the guys inevitably bail to get wasted in the woods.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need a date,” she insists, reading your mind before the words can leave your mouth. “I’m telling you, Lucas is gonna ditch me as soon as Jason and Patrick show up.” She takes your hand between both of hers. “Please? I’ll even tell Ms. Kelly the lengths you went to for your poor, troubled freshie.”

You exhale, knowing that she doesn’t need to go to all of that trouble. You’d started off the school year as her peer mentor, but just a few months later, you two have become close friends. “Fine, I’ll go,” you acquiesce, laughing when she pumps her fists victoriously. “But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

You return to your own lunch, completely missing the mischievous look that graces her freckled face.

Unbeknownst to you, a similar discussion is had at Hellfire Club later that same afternoon.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. “Nice try, Sinclair, but I wouldn’t be caught dead at some lame dance.”

“Seriously,” Jeff smirks from his position across the table. “He’s never been to a single one in his ten years of high school.”

Eddie flips him off casually. “It’s only six, asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m not dressing up in some penguin suit to drink unspiked punch with a bunch of shitty people.”

“C’mon, dude,” Lucas says, his tone bordering on a whine. “If you don’t go, I’m gonna be stuck with the jocks all night, and they just wanna suck face with their girlfriends.”

“And you don’t?” Gareth quips.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Not in front of everyone. And I don’t need a front-row seat to their performances, either.” He turns his attention back to the Dungeon Master. “Look, I’m desperate. Mike’ll be visiting his grandma and Dustin’s grounded because of his D-plus in Spanish.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “What about Huey, Dewey, and Louie over here?” he asks, gesturing to the three remaining club members.

Their collective responses are jumbled excuses; Eddie swears one of them says he’s going kayaking—in mid-December in Indiana—but he doesn’t bother to sift through their lies. “You owe me, Sinclair,” he declares, pointing his forefinger at the underclassman. “Big time.”

The next few weeks leading up to the Winter Formal are spent meticulously making plans. For someone who seemed so disinterested in this dance, Max is paying careful attention to each detail.

You walk out of the dressing room in a velvet emerald green dress that hits just above the knee. Max is beaming as she adjusts the off-the-shoulder sleeves and smooths down any creases.

“You look really nice,” she says, nodding her head. She’s trying to temper her enthusiasm, but you can sense her excitement. “I can’t wait to tell Lucas.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lucas? Why would he care?” He’s a nice kid—more in tune with emotions than the average fourteen-year-old boy—but that doesn’t constitute an interest in your fashion choices.

Max’s cheeks burn as red as her hair. “Uh, well, seeing you happy makes me happy, and seeing me happy makes him happy, so…everyone’s happy?” she finishes lamely. She clears her throat as if expelling the awkwardness from the conversation. “Anyway, let’s buy this dress so we can look for shoes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You’re not fully convinced, but you brush it off and steel your nerves to ask a question. “Is anyone else gonna be there that we know?” You really want to know whether Eddie Munson is going to be there, but you can’t say the quiet part aloud.

“Probably,” she shrugs, a bit too quickly, but she’s pushing you back behind the curtain to change before you can inquire more.

“Why does this stupid tie need to be green?” Eddie asks, sifting through the store’s selection with Lucas by his side.

“Uh, Christmas colors,” Lucas stammers, fumbling for a decent explanation other than the contents of his secret phone call with Max earlier today. “And, y’know, red is way overdone, so…” he trails off lamely, going back to the display table and hoping Eddie drops the matter.

They find exactly what they’re looking for—not without Eddie complaining about putting in too much effort just to be a third wheel—and make their way over to the food court. Eddie makes a beeline for the Pizza Hut when he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit, Sinclair; we gotta go,” he says urgently, clapping a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and steering him away from the fast food.

“What the hell? I’m hungry!”

Eddie shakes his head, curls brushing against his shoulders. “Look, man.” He discreetly points to his left, where you and Max are giggling at the Orange Julius. “We can’t let them see us.”

“Dude, she’s like the nicest person ever,” Lucas rebuts. “Even Max likes her, and Max pretty much hates everyone.”

“That’s not the problem.” Eddie rakes his ringed fingers through his hair, wincing when he snags one on a knot. “The problem is that she’s gonna be all, ‘hi, Eddie; what’re you doing at the mall?’ And I’m gonna be all, ‘just picking out a tie for the Winter Formal.” And then she’ll go, ‘oh, who’s your date?” And then I’ll have to say, ‘I don’t have one; I’m just playing babysitter to some freshmen like a goddamn loser!” He hops back and forth to indicate each character change.

“First of all, ouch,” Lucas quips, “second, go hide in the bathroom if you want, but I’m getting something to eat.”

Eddie exhales an exasperated sigh, giving in and schlepping over to Pizza Hut, one of the few times in his life that he’s trying to be inconspicuous.

You pull into the school parking lot on the night of the Winter Formal and shift into park before killing the engine. Max is bouncing her leg up and down in the passenger seat, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask, mistaking her excitement for anxiety. “You know that Lucas would think you look beautiful even if you showed up in a potato sack.” You furrow your brow. “Where is he, anyway? Why didn’t he come with us?”

She mumbles something about not wanting her mom to ask any questions about the relationship, and you take them at face value. Her eyes light up when she spots her boyfriend walking into the school alongside…Eddie Munson?

“Eddie’s here?” you ask in a hushed whisper, feeling sweat prickling under your arms. You’ve been nursing a massive crush on him for ages–one that Max is very much aware of. And now he’s here, dressed in a black suit with his hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. “Max, why didn’t you tell me? Who’s he going with?” The idea of him slow dancing with someone else has your stomach turning.

Max just shrugs. “I don’t think he had a date.” Too casual, too blasé–she knows something. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She swings the car door open enthusiastically, leaving you shell-shocked in your seat.

“Maxine Mayfield!” you hiss, using her full government name to drive home your bewilderment, but she just skips ahead. Damn your heeled shoes, slowing you down before you can catch up to her. When you finally do, she just grabs your hand and tugs you towards the guys.

She poorly feigns surprise, jaw dropping as she exclaims, “Eddie? What are you doing here? Oh, my gosh, this is such a coincidence!” She pulls you closer, smiling far too wide. “Lucas and I both brought our upperclassmen friends! What are the odds?”

“Yeah, so weird,” Lucas says, not as loud as Max but just as transparent. He looks at Max before regarding you and Eddie. “Okay, well, we’re gonna go dance–bye!” The two of them scamper off, leaving you alone with Eddie. If their stilted dialogue wasn’t evidence enough, the way Eddie’s tie perfectly matches your dress certainly clears up their intentions.

Eddie speaks first, shoving his hands in his pants pockets and nervously swiveling his body. “I, uh, think we’ve been set up,” he says with a small, awkward chuckle. “I swear, it wasn’t my idea. Not–not that it’s a bad thing, I just meant, like, if you’re uncomfortable with this, I don’t wanna be held responsible.” His cheeks burn red. “Shit, I need to stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with your own kind laugh, “we might as well make the most of it. Get some punch and make fools of ourselves out there?” You gesture towards the gym’s makeshift dance floor; the band has just started playing Journey’s “Faithfully.” Eddie’s nods, following you to an empty space, and you timidly drape your arms over his shoulders. Taking care to avoid an inappropriate touch, he rests his palms on the small of your back.

His voice is low when he murmurs in your ear, “you look really beautiful tonight.” He clears his throat and speaks again. “You always look really beautiful, though.”

The two of you sway to the music, swapping shy smiles and fleeting but longing glances. As the song ends, you look over your shoulder. “We’re being spied on,” you report, noting the way the two younger kids are watching you from across the room. You consider your next words before eventually deciding to go for it: “Did you talk to Lucas about me as much as I talked to Max about you?”

“Probably more,” Eddie laughs, bringing you a bit closer. “But I’m interested in comparing notes.”

You nod, staving off any lingering nerves. “Maybe after the dance, we can split a burger from Benny’s and discuss?”

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he says; you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I’d like that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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yandere-writer-momo · 18 days

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Yandere Short Stories: Not the Same

Yandere Surgeon x Ex-Fiancée Fem Reader

TW: medical malpractice, horror, obsession, yanderre themes, unhealthy behaviors, blood, gore, murder, etc.

A loud, frustrated scream ripped through Darius’s throat before various surgical instruments clattered to the floor. This experiment had been yet another failure…

“You’re supposed to sweetly ask me how my day is!” Darius screamed at his patient who held their arms over their head in a fetal position.

“I-I didn’t know-“ The patient screamed when Darius stomped his foot into their back side over the fresh incisions. Loud, pained wails left the patient’s throat as they crumbled to the floor. Apologies bubbled through their throat.

“She would have never made such a mistake…” Darius sighed as he turned to his scalpel. That’s right, his darling fiancée would have gave him a big smile and rushed into his arms… she’d never be so uncouth.

Darius grasped a scalpel from off the floor, his gray eyes reflected off the shiny surface. There was only one way to fix such a grave mistake he’s made…

Darius swung his fist into the patient, the scalpel now deeply imbedded into their eye socket. One last, pathetic wail left their lips before they laid in a pool of their own blood on the once pristine floor in a grotesque halo.

Darius rubbed the small bit of blood that splattered on his face with disgust. This wasn’t the same… it wasn’t her. This failure of an experiment could never compare to his perfect fiancée… his (your name).

“I wonder when you’ll come back to me…” Darius softly whispered to himself, his eyes studied the pool of blood in disinterest. “How many more of your little dates do I have to mutilate and dispose of until you become mine again?”

Darius thought for a moment before he studied the corpse’s ears in interest. Maybe he should send his beloved a little present? That should get the ball rolling.

Darius yanked the scalpel out of the patient’s eye before he sucked in a breath. This was all for her own good… he’d make her see that he was the best choice. By force.

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stairain · 7 months

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Friendly Competition.

Spencer gets a little too cocky and thinks he can please you better than a toy, so you take it upon yourself to crush his ego.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, Dom Reader, Mommy kink, vaginal sex, degradation, begging, fake disinterest, self-doubt, crying, creampie, mating press, sex toy, all consensual.

WC: 1.4K

“You know I can do so much better than this Mommy, please..”

Spencer pleaded, nimble fingers trembling as the vibrating bullet in his hand was practically driving him crazy. You were sitting in front of him as he knelt before you, and he was just barely holding it against your dripping folds at this point, desperate to prove to you that you surely didn’t need this stupid toy to please you.

“Because I don’t need you right now, Spencer. You’re lucky I’m even letting you do this for me.”

Truth be told, you knew he could do a better job than the toy shakily pressing against your clit, but shattering his ego and rendering him useless was always worth it anyways.

The man let out a pitiful whine, jutting out his bottom lip in a defeated pout as he continued to circle the toy against the taunting bundle of nerves he so desperately wanted to taste for himself.

He felt his chest growing heavier and his mouth practically watering at the sight of the slickened silicone that pushed the wet folds of your cunt around in his face. It was almost torture at this point.

And not even a minute had passed before he was whimpering out again and begging you to just give him a chance.

“M-Mommy please.. Let me do it..”

Clicking your teeth and sighing deeply, you roll your eyes and give into the need that was pumping through the veins of his cock and brain alike. There wasn’t a hint of amusement or content in your voice at all, but it was more than a relief to hear the word, “Fine”, slip out of your mouth.

Within seconds, Spencer had discarded the vibrator and was leaning over you on shaking elbows, mouth agape as he let out hot puffs of air between the two of you. One hand was holding up his entire body while the other was shakily grabbing himself at the base of his throbbing cock, messily running it up and down your pussy.

The entire time he was psyching himself up, you had a look of disinterest plastered all over your face. Eyebrow cocked, lips downturned, it looked almost as if you had better things to do than be filled to the brim by the quivering man above you.

Sure, you were far more aroused with just his tip rubbing up against you as compared to the harsh vibrations of the toy, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. It’d inflate his ego and get to his head, and no one likes a cocky boy.

The brunet was almost in shambles by the time he finally mustered up the courage to sink into you, and it felt almost heaven sent, the way you sucked him in and molded around his shape. There was a crude squelching sound when he bottomed out, both of you being far too wet, and he almost choked on the lump in his throat at the sound alone.

“F-Fuck.. Mm–”

He whimpered softly, his thighs were shaking and his balls felt so full it almost hurt. It took almost everything in him to not finish right there, if he did he’d feel foolish for wasting such an opportunity.

Lifting his head to look at you, his heart dropped and his eyes widened in surprise when he found you didn’t look like you were enjoying this nearly enough as he was, if at all. You had an expression plastered on your face that just screamed, ‘Are you done yet?’, and it made his confidence crumble in his chest.

Maybe he wasn’t doing good enough? Not going as fast or hard as you needed, maybe that’s all it was. He didn’t want to even think about the possibility of not pleasing you like you deserved, especially when you were reacting so much more to that stupid toy he hated using so much.

His hips began to thrust faster than before, slipping in and out of you with ease that made his head spin. And he could feel himself reaching the spot inside of you that you usually love, but right now it seemed like you weren’t even paying attention to him.

Now he was going harder, if faster wasn’t working, surely this would. His thin hips crashed into the insides of your thighs, balls slapping crudely against the plush fat of your ass, it was too much for him but seemingly nothing for you.

He’d had cum by now if not for the shame that was building up inside of him, he was far too distracted by the way you just weren’t responding to his rough thrusts to let himself finish.

His cheeks burned with embarrassment and his lips quivered as his words were dying in his throat. Swallowing and looking at you with teary eyes, his voice is no louder than a shrill whisper as he pathetically begs you to, “P-Please do something”, and you just laugh in his poor little dejected face.

“You said you could do better, I’m waiting, Spence.. If you’re done, I’d like to use the toy again.”

And he just about cried in that moment, never had he felt so degraded in his life by you, and desire the feeling of his ego and confidence being crumbled before him, it only made him want to do better for you. He absolutely needed to prove to you that he’s better than any toy you could ever buy.

Abruptly grabbing your ankles, he hiked them up to rest on his bony shoulders and practically folded you in half. Leaning over your body and pushing his cock deeper inside of your warm walls, he pressed your knees against your chest and huffed against your neck.

“Please, Mommy.. Just wanna do good for you..”

He whispers huskily against the sweaty skin of your throat, wet tongue poking out of pink tinted lips and licking up the side of your neck to the curve of your jaw. His hips pistoned his dick impossibly faster into you, jackhammering his length as deep as your cervix would allow him to.

You bit your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from letting it slip just how close you were, because despite the fact you were in charge and always were, he was positively ruining you right now. The leaking tip of his cock was stamping brutally against your sweet spot, and it no longer became possible to hide the tremble in your thighs that gave away the way you were about to burst.

Smiling evilly against your jaw, sharp canines bare and sink into your flesh, making you break your composure and moan out involuntarily. Spencer’s body goes into overdrive at the sound, and he snags the skin of your ear, only to desperately whimper into it.

“Tell me how good I’m doing Mommy, pl–oh fuck–please..”

His hand reaches down to rub against your sensitive clit and you almost lose it, throwing your head back and sighing loudly. Your thighs close instinctively, but with how fast his hips were bucking up against you, they were spread wide open in an instant.

“F-Fuck.. My god–You’re doing so good, baby..”

You groan out and squeeze your eyes shut as you can feel your orgasm not so subtly creeping up on you. Spencer whines out when he feels your cunt clench around him even tighter, feeling as though he was being forced out of your walls with how fixed around him you were.

“Look at me, Mommy.. Please look at me..”

He begs you desperately, not being able to bring himself to finish inside of you before you gush around him like he needed you to. And as soon as your blissed out eyes met his that were dripping with tears, your jaw dropped open in a choked out cry as you came around his cock.

Sticky fluids of your release leaked from around his length and left a creamy ring around the base that almost had him fainting. His thrusts turned frantic and sloppy, and wanton sobs forced themselves out of his throat as he pushed himself as deep as possible and flooded your cunt with ribbons of thick, warm cum.

Your eyes crossed and rolled into the back of your head at the feeling of him spilling his cum and fucking it into you. He did his best to gracefully collapse against your sweat slicked body. The both of you panted in unison as you laid in silence for several minutes, which were absolutely necessary after absolutely defiling each other.

Spencer raised his head from your chest, and with brown curls sticking adorably to his forehead, he almost too bashfully asks you, “D-Did I do good?”.

Scoffing in amusement and rolling your eyes, you pull his head back down against you, running your fingers through his sweaty hair and sarcastically muttering, “I think I’ll keep you around.”

#spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer

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murdrdocs · 7 months

Text

INTERVIEW 013

with. finnick odair

includes. fem!reader, husband finnick, filming, kitchen sex, domesticity, oral (fem receiving)

→ kinktober masterlist

It started out as the definition of domesticity.

There was a package in the mail, sent from Katniss and Peeta, addressed to ‘The Odairs’ in Katniss’ handwriting. Seeing the joint name made you giddy, but reading the letter from your closest friends made you giddier.

They’d congratulated you on your recent marriage, praised the ceremony once more, and had enclosed an old video camera for both of you to document your newlywed endeavors on.

While you had cooking and home decorating selected as ideas for ‘newlywed endeavors’, Finnick had gone a different route.

The camera sat in his hands as he kissed at your neck, his free hand teasing at your waist.

“C’mon, sweetheart. It’ll be fun,” came his promise, spoken lowly and close to your ear in an attempt to get you to give in. You were closer to doing so than you would like to admit, just the thought almost enticing enough to make you put the knife down, slide the vegetables out of the way, and give Finnick what he wanted.

Almost.

You refused to give in without making Finnick plead just a little more.

You hummed, fauxing disinterest as you brought the knife down in another audible slice against the wooden chopping board.

Finnick continued. “We could look back on it. You could see what I see; How pretty my wife is.” The term made your heart flutter, still not used to being the wife of Finnick Odair. His hand at your waist circled around to your front, pressing flat against your stomach and pulling you flush against him so you could feel the semi he was sporting beneath his joggers.

You couldn’t help it anymore, your head lolling back to rest against Finnick, your skull connecting with the taut muscles all along his body.

“What d’you say?” You could hear the self satisfied smile in his words.

You end up on the counter top, any food you were prepping pushed all the way to the side to make room for you. Your legs spread, Finnick’s head between a pair of plushy thighs, your abdomen tensing and relaxing as you controlled your breathing. You caught it all on camera, the object pointed down at your husband who licks and sucks along your cunt like it’s his favorite pastime in the world.

Which, he’s told you as such.

The muscles in his shoulders flex as he nudges the back of your legs with them, arms circling around your thighs to press his fingertips into the flesh.

Your legs have lifted a bit, spreading you open even more.

Finnick presses his tongue flat, letting it relax over the expanse of your cunt as much as the muscle can reach. He licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, repeating the pattern back and forth until you can’t take it anymore. When you whine, the sound desperate and pathetic, he gives you more.

The interlude of teasing has completely passed, Finnick going back to devouring you like he knows how. He releases one of your legs to use two digits inside of your greedy walls, cunt swallowing them up as Finnick pumps in a fast paced rhythm.

He focuses on your clit and the surrounding area with his mouth, eyes opening to look up at you. Through the camera, the green is a little grainy, slightly dulled, but you can see the intensity behind his gaze all the same.

His cheeks flushed, the tip of his nose glistening, blonde wavy hair all over the place from your grip. Your hand finds the strands again as your orgasm approaches, the camera leaning off to the side just a little.

Finnick pulls away from your cunt and you cry out as you stare down at him in shock.

He tuts, jerking his head towards the camera. “Keep it on me, baby.”

You quickly bring it back, taking Finnick’s smile as a form of praise as he goes back down. Just as quick, you’re close again, back arching and muscles tightening.

Your hand slips from Finnick’s hair, nails scratching at his shoulder as it flails around. Finnick, always knowing exactly what you need, offers his own hand to ground you, both of your fingers quickly interlocking like opposite ends of a magnet.

When you cum on Finnick’s tongue, it’s so loud that the tiny microphone in the camera struggles to pick it up.

Watching it back, Finnick teases you for it, his cock sliding in and out of your walls as he fucks you from behind, lips against the shell of your ear as he promises he can make you cum louder here and now than he did then.

#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑 #finnicksworld!#finnicktobr!#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut #finnick odair

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luminoustarlight · 8 months

Text

Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker

What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?

A jealous Anakin Skywalker.

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]

the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!

and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.

Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.

Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect?

As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.

The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major.

You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words).

If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.

“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.

“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet.

“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.”

You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?”

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?”

“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.”

You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.”

“There’s only one thing my heart desires.” A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact.

You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?”

Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.”

And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?

You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”

“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.”

You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.”

“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.”

“So, get out,” you instruct.

“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?”

“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set.

Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch.

“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen.

“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough.

Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.”

You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?”

“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?”

“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?”

“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.”

You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.”

“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own.

You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.”

“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out.

The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood.

“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.”

You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you.

“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up.

Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you.

“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.”

You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it.

“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.”

You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?”

“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.”

“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.”

You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?”

“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter.

“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?”

“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk.

He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you.

“Hey, man! Watch it!”

“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!”

“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?”

Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently?

When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops?

“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!”

“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself.

Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff?

“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.”

“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.”

Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?”

“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.”

“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.

“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.”

“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.”

“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.”

“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest.

Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.”

“Are you her boyfriend or something?”

“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder.

“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh?

“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.”

“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-”

“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.”

You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”

“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street.

It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering.

“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank.

“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?”

“So what if I am?”

You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate.

“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed.

Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper.

“What?”

“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.

“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?”

“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect.

The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur.

“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting.

“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out.

“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.

“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.”

Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off…

“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“Huh?”

“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?”

“So many things,” Anakin smirks.

“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?”

“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester.

You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back.

You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans.

You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?”

“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile.

“You love me.”

“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”

You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?”

“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it.

“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt.

As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut?

He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.”

You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.

Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool.

“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?”

You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.”

“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.”

“Is it the prettiest?”

Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs. “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”

With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.”

You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.”

Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive.

Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!”

“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?”

“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.”

“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.”

“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.”

“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.”

“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”

“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick.

When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap.

“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.

It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?”

“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-”

“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.”

“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.”

“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips.

Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.”

You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load.

Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly.

“Why not?” you blink innocently.

“You know exactly why.”

You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand.

Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear.

He loves you.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)

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ilyhaitanii · 1 month

Text

baby it’s your birthday! ft. jing yuan, nanami, zayne & caleb

nsfw. it was my birthday a few days ago so i wrote this little drabble. also as a thank you for 400 <3

JING YUAN:

jing yuan is somewhat lazy when he puts his lips to your cunt. not to say he’s disinterested— far from that. the general simply prefers to take his time with you. he kisses every curve and crevice of your torso, hands smoothing over the expanse of your waist. his hands rub up and down the sides of your hips, squeezing the soft skin every now and then. his lips wrap around your nipples, twirling one bud at a time because he knows it makes the other so impatient.

jing yuan’s lids flutter shut, enjoying the feeling over your skin. he feels your try to climb onto his lap, but he keeps his hands on your hips sturdy. he doesn’t allow you to bend a bit to hold onto him for support. you stand between his legs, completely helpless. you squirm under his touch, trying to wiggle your way out of his grip, but jing yuan doesn’t back down from a fight quickly. he quickly turns you around, allowing his lips and hands to adore your back.

his kisses are slow, he almost sucks on the skin around your neck, watching the way you twitch at the ticklish sensation of his lips kissing up and down your spine. his hands smooth the dimples of your back, kneeding the plushy skin of your ass with his big hands. whenever you whine and complain, jing yuan is quick go hush you with kisses and slips his fingers into your mouth. his heavy fingers press down on your tongue, effectively silencing your noises.

“easy there now, little one. your patience will be rewarded.” his baritone voice booms through you. his free hand slides down between the apex of your thighs, feeling the hot moist skin. he has to stop himself from laughing at how wet you are because he sees how your shaking like a poor little lamb. he takes pity on you, spinning you around to face him finally. there’s an influx of tears brewing on your lower lashes that jing yuan cant help but smile at.

jing yuan takes your hand in his and guides you to the bed, finally away from his desk. he sits you down at the very edge, making sure to place your heels on his shoulders. with your legs spread thanks to his broad shoulders, jing yuan takes in the sight of your sopping cunt.

“so worked up over a few kisses,” the general teases, spreading your lips apart. you can’t help but whine as your head is full of cotton. he kisses your knees and the soft cut on your calf before kissing the innermost parts of your thighs.

his tongue is slow and languid, taking in every drop of your slick. he slides his tongue up your slit, gently prodding it at your hole. however, he’s quick to circle it around your clit. when his lips leave a soft kiss your clit, you jump. he laughs again, hands parting your thighs further.

“don’t be scared, little one. i won’t hurt you.” he finally encases your clit with his lips, sucking gently on the small bud. your eyes roll back, legs almost quivering at the sudden pleasure. your head dips back, hips being pulled forward. your back arches in this unnatural position as jing yuan presses on your lower back.

his free hand slides one digit into your cunt, making way for another to join it. in a matter of seconds, he’s able to find your sweet spot and bullies it. relentlessly rubbing and curling his fingers against the spot. with the stimulation from your clit and deep inside you, your body quivers. a soft whimper of the general’s name has him going crazy. he looks up at your through lidded eyes, driving you mad.

those gold eyes hold so much emotion. so much love, far too much lust. your heels dig deeper into his shoulders as he brings closer and closer to the edge. there’s a slight impatience in his behavior now. his fingers quicken their pace and jing yuan now uses the tip of his tongue to toy with your clit.

jing yuan curls his fingers a few more times before your stomach tightens. you’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it. pleas leave your lips in a whiny tone, making jing yuan’s dick twitch in his pants. aeons, you’re to be the death of him. he presses your knees to your chest, allowing his fingers to reach to an even deeper spot. within seconds, he has you creaming all over his fingers. he quickly replaces them with his tongue, licking up any all slick that falls from your cunt, needing to feel it melt onto his tastebuds. as you lay below him, legs twitching, jing yuan rests his head on your thigh.

“shall we go again, birthday girl?” oh lord.

NANAMI KENTO:

nanami’s always been so sweet and caring. never a moment in your relationship have you ever doubted his love for you. bug hans rubs your sides, melting kisses into the side of your head as you bury your face into his neck. a deep inhale of his scent has your mind going crazy, head feeling fuzzy. your sock cladded feet dig into the sofa, pushing yourself up off his cock. you shake your head fervently, fingers trembling.

“kento- i cant. oh god, i cant,” you helplessly moan, legs shaking at his hips. kento smiles up at you, taking his thumb to rub your bottom lip. your mouth opens obediently before pressing it on your tongue. you gingerly suck on his finger, allowing you to taste his skin as he sinks you back onto his cock. theres a thin gloss in your eyes as tears bubble at your lower lash-line.

“good girl, my good girl, arent you?” he shamelessly groans as he thrusts his hips up, keeping one hand on your hips. he pulls your chest flush to his, a hand racking through your hair. “sweet girl, you there?” theres not a single thought in your head besides how good he’s making you feel. he takes his thumb that was in your mouth out and watches as a string of saliva chases after it. with a low chuckle he puts his thumb on your clit, swirling it.

when you fall onto him, hands clutching onto his shoulders, nanami takes this opportunity to move you up and down on his cock. the added feeling of his rough thumb rubbing against your clit makes your head spin. you feel like the room is spinning the closer you get to cumming. that knot in your stomach refuses to stop growing larger and stronger. no matter how many tears fall, how loud you sniffle, nanami doesn’t relent.

“i know it’s a lot, honey. you can take it, yeah?” he lets out the sexiest moan, head rolling back when your cunt clenches around him. a string of curses fall from his lips, “oh fuck- honey, you’re so pretty you know that? pretty girl riding my cock,”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving long red streaks. however, nanami stands up with his cock still in you for a moment, only to flip you on your back. with you below him and your knees pressed to your chest now, nanami slides himself right back into you. at this angle, he can perfectly bully his thick tip into your sweet spot.

at this point you’re babbling, incoherent words replace your moans as you beg for some sort of mercy. yet nanami just keeps going. his thumb never leaves your clit, rubbing the bud up and down at a fast pace. with a few final thrusts and words of encouragement from nanami, your eyes roll back and your hips follow after his. you don’t even realize it by how quickly it came, but you cream all over his cock with the sweetest mewl.

nanami isn��t too far behind you, his fingers digging crescents into your plush skin. he throws his head back, groaning as he spills himself inside you, filling you with this warm sensation. there isn’t much you feel besides nanami’s lips pressing kisses into your cheeks, wiping the tears away.

“happy birthday, my love”

ZAYNE AND CALEB:

you stand between your two childhood friends, the bottom of your dress hiked up to your waist as caleb’s fingers find themselves buried inside your cunt. zayne’s lips find themselves occupied by your back. he kisses up and down your spine, hands busy with grabbing at your skin. caleb’s fingers wrap around your nipple, making you sqeual into his mouth. zayne lets out a low chuckle when you yelp at his cold fingers twirling your clit as caleb’s fingers curl and bully your sweet spot.

“look at you~” caleb whistles as he blows cold air onto your stiffened nipple. “you’ve grown so much over the years, pipsqueak.” he teases as his teeth lightly graze your other, neglected nipple. zayne’s nails rake down your torso, causing goosebumps to break out across your skin.

you can feel zayne’s buldge pressing against your ass, and you rocking against it isnt helping him too much. caleb guides your free hand to his hard on. your fingers rub and massage the area, making him groan into your mouth. he takes his fingers away from your chest, deftly unbuckling his pants.

zayne takes this opportunity to use his hands on your chest, massaging your tits. he has you flush to his chest, biting and kissing your neck and shoulders. all you do is grind your ass against him and helplessly whine. your mouth is wide open, begging for something to soothe your oral fixation.

“can’t go one moment without something in your mouth, huh?” zayne jokes, his fingers slipping into your mouth as they press on your tongue. his thumb and ring finger secure themselves onto your jaw, tilting you to face him. his intense eyes has your cunt gushing around nothing. you whine at the empty feeling, before caleb hushes you.

“shh. you’re a year older, yet even less patient. sometimes i think you grow more impatient as the years go by.” you pout at him, but you just look even more debauched. the tears rolling down your cheeks, mascara staining your under eyes, and lipstick smudged from an intense makeout sensation with the man behind you. “here, baby. come here,”

caleb puts his hand on your nape, pulling you closer to his cock, zayne pulls his fingers out of your mouth and places it on your lower back. your kneel in front of him, your face growing closer to caleb’s cock. you eagerly stretch out your hands, but zayne’s quick to restrain you with his belt — when did it even come off ?!

“there ‘ya go, pipsqueak. gently, don’t rush. we have alllll night, dont we?” he looks up at zayne, who doesn’t bother to look at him. instead, zayne’s eyes are focused on the way your ass looks pressed against his crotch. he takes this time to undress his lower half, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock out from its restraints.

you look up at caleb with these big eyes as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock. he groans, tugging against your hair. “fuck, you’re a tease, pup.” as you lap at his tip, you giggle,

“that’s what you get for making me wait this long,” your lips press kisses up and down his length, listening to his breathy moans. zayne finally presses his cock to your cunt, pushing himself in. instantly, you can feel the stretch of his cock, despite them both having three fingers in you at the same time.

you struggle to keep quiet, letting out huffs and mewls onto caleb’s cock. he guides his til to your tongue again, pushing your head down his length. zayne throws his head back when you push your hips against him. he squeezes your ass as he pushes your head down caleb’s cock. it takes caleb by surprise as well because the older man almost jumps out of his skin when his tip presses to the back of your throat.

zayne doesn’t let go tho, he puts his weight into his knees, sliding his hips back and forth. caleb also leans forward a bit, reaching under your body to rub your clit in mean, little circles. your muffled whines make both the men chuckle. how could they not tease the birthday girl, right?

as your tongue continues to swirl caleb’s cock, you heavily breathe through your nose trying not to gag. both the men finally let go of your head, allowing you to come up for air. zayne takes this opportunity to press your back to his chest. he whispers sweet words into your ears, cold breath tickling your skin.

caleb in the meantime, is back on your tits. his fingers tug and twist the swollen buds. he also guides his cock to your cunt, trying to fit himself inside as well. you panic, trying to move, but zayne’s arm wrapped around you middle doesn’t allow for any of that nonsense.

“you can take it, love.” zayne murmurs against your skin, pressing soft kisses to your nape and shoulders. you shake your head, watching the way caleb’s cock sinks inside of you. your eyes roll back at the stretch, legs quivering.

“fuck, pup. you’re so tight,” caleb and zayne groan in unison when you tighten up.

“i cant do it. too much, caleb, please no,” there’s more tears falling down your face, but caleb kisses those away.

“you can do it, sweetie. we’ve done it before, yeah? we can do it again,” a sharp sob falls from your mouth when you feel caleb sink in further. “let’s keep that mouth occupied, yeah? that’s why you can still worry, hm?”

zayne takes the hint and slips his fingers back into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue as caleb’s hand moves from your nipples down your body. for the millionth time, he touches your clit, rubbing the bud in harsh circles. muffled moans fall from you, eyes rolled back into your skull.

“atta girl,” caleb moans, finally bottoming out inside you. he watches the way the imprint on your stomach becomes more prominent the deeper he pushes himself inside you. “prettiest thing ever,” his lips occupy themselves on your neck. him and zayne find the same spot right below your ear.

their tongues rub against one another, caleb’s sliding into zayne’s mouth. you can hear the wet noises right beside your ear as well as their groans when you gush around them both. theyre both so careful with you at this stage, following an even rhythm, making sure you’re always full.

the angle at which theyre fucking you, the pace at which theyre touching you, and hearing the both of them groaning right into your ear has you keeling. your head falls onto caleb’s shoulder as your body twitches and shudders. the knot in your stomach is so intense, you think it might even hurt.

“i can’t- oh my,” your speak around zayne’s fingers that draw circles on your tongue. he presses them down your throat, borderline gagging you. your hips sputter as you cum hard. there’s something being sprayed onto caleb’s abdomen when he slightly gasps.

you feel like you’ve had the life taken out of you as zayne’s hand comes to rub up and down your back. you can hear soft coos from both the men as zayne tugs your back to his chest. your eyes are unfocused, everything is so bleary. in the process of you coming back down to earth, the two of them have already pulled out and laid you between them on the bed.

caleb finds himself between your legs again, kissing your thighs. his cheeks and jaw are soaked in your cum and zayne is quick to lay beside him, doing the exact same thing.

“pretty girl. you came so much, look at you. squirting all over me, hm?” caleb mouths against your clit, making your hips twitch. he presses a hand on your stomach as you weakly try to push them away. zayne’s cold fingers slide back inside you.

“no more, please!” you whine, hips unable to stop moving as zayne finds your sweet spot again.

“can you do that one more time, baby?” zayne asks so politely and his eyes catch yours. you can’t look away from him as he licks up and slick on the sides of your thighs while caleb enjoys the taste of you on his tongue.

this was going to be a long night.

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